Rishe's fingertips twitched, and she opened her eyes. Unmoving, she said, "Shouldn't you be seeing to your duties?"
"More hidden depths, I see." Came a voice tinged with pleasure.
Rishe straightened and turned. There was Arnold Hein, leaning against the door to the balcony. "You seem able to sense my approach no matter how far or how hard I try."
"You're quite naughty, aren't you? You've been making your presence known little by little, emanating threat, to see how quickly I catch on."
"So you noticed that as well." Arnold joined Rishe on the balcony. She tensed, but all he did was cast a curious glance at the view. "What were you looking at?"
"The city." Rishe was hardly going to tell him she'd been looking at nothing, merely ruminating on her mother's overbearing advice. The view from the balcony was spectacular, though.
"What's that over there?"
"You mean the library? The state invested funds to expand it. We have books from all over the world."
"Really? You have a library that big?" Rishe's eyes sparkled with delight. She pointed out another building. "What about that spire? It's beautiful."
"The church and clock tower. The bells ring out the hour."
"Ooh, how wonderful! And it looks like there's a rather big market there too?"
"Yes, the largest market in the city. Carts line up in the early morning. Most of the offerings are made fresh every day."
"Amazing! And what about that pretty mountain over there?"
Rishe tried and failed to contain her excitement. She couldn't help but imagine what seeing all these places up close would be like. The grand library, the beautiful church that told the time, and the morning market with fresh, delicious food—she wanted to experience it all.
Seeing Arnold's bemused face, she said, "What?"
"I'm just wondering where all this interest is coming from," he said. "You were so reluctant to come, yet here you are, brimming with curiosity for my city."
"Well…" She trailed off, unsure of how to respond.
What should I say? Should I just tell him the truth?
This wasn't a secret, but talking about her hopes and dreams to the man who had killed her was a little awkward. A strange self-consciousness settled on her, her cheeks heating as she mumbled, "Because I've always wanted to."
Arnold looked at her keenly. "Wanted to what?"
"I've always wanted to come here."
During her life as a merchant, Rishe developed her single dream to visit everywhere in the world. That dream was cut tragically short when only one country remained: Galkhein.
In each of her consecutive lives, Rishe's priority became staying alive. Every time, without fail, just as she found her footing, the world was plunged into chaos. She never had the chance to see Galkhein. This betrothal was her chance.
"It's probably why I agreed to marry you," she added after a moment's hesitation.
Arnold swept a tepid glance over the city. "There's nothing here worth seeing."
"That's not true! The places you just told me about sound amazing! Your citizens are clean and happy, your knights are proper and kind. Oh, and another—"
Rishe broke off enumerating Galkhein's charms as Arnold turned to look at her. His face was impassively calm, but something seemed to pass by underneath, like a shadow in deep water.
"I'm sorry," Rishe said. "Did I say something odd?"
"I'm just amazed you could be so unaware of yourself."
Wh-what a rude thing to—
"I've never met anyone like you. No one has ever spoken to me the way you do. I don't know any girls of your class with the knowledge or the physical abilities you possess. Noblewomen don't concern themselves with such things."
Rishe, there is no need for you to think for yourself.
She frowned. "Perhaps you're right, but everything I've learned is precious to me. No one can take my skills away—I value them with my life. Some may say that my knowledge is worthless, but it makes no difference to me."
She turned from the balcony, fixing him with a piercing gaze. "I'm the one who decides what I value."
Rishe had clawed free of her mother and father's indoctrination a long time ago. Man, woman—it didn't matter. She could do anything. Being queen was not the culmination of her life; she wouldn't trade her freedom for anything.
Arnold matched her intensity. "You're right." He gently cupped her cheek in a one hand, swiping his thumb along the line of her jaw, smearing dust.
"Live your life here however you wish. I vow to do my utmost to protect you."
"Huh?"
His vehemence took her by surprise. Arnold had every right to demand she act the part of a proper consort. This was a political marriage; Rishe was essentially a hostage, after all. Yet here he was, cosigning her misbehavior.
Moreover, he was all but swearing to defend her from the consequences.
"Why?"
"You know why. I'm enamored with you." Arnold fed her the same line. "I know you said you don't care about other people's approval, but I like your asymmetrical talents. I don't find them useless at all."
Rishe didn't know how to respond.
"I thought I'd already made that clear." He took his hand back, drawing away, stopping just on the threshold.
Arnold turned back to a stunned Rishe and said, "Let me know if there's anything you desire. I realize I just broke our agreement—the one about not touching you."
And with that, he was gone.
Shaken, Rishe sank to the floor of the balcony. I can't predict him at all! Just what is Arnold Hein planning?
The quiet of evening fell over the imperial capital of Galkhein.
**************************************
"Mmm."
Sunshine streamed through the window as Rishe roused from sleep. She rolled over, basking in the morning light. The wall she expected wasn't there, and the bed seemed larger than usual. Taking advantage of it, she stretched out as far as she could.
Was this her chamber at home? Or maybe she was a merchant again, spending a night at the desert king's palace. Perhaps this was her bed of straw from her life as a maid? Her memories met and interwove as she drifted into wakefulness.
When Rishe finally opened her eyes, she grew even more confused.
Light blue curtains surrounded the bed, thin enough to allow sunlight to pass through. She pulled them aside to find herself in a bare room devoid of furniture and carpet.
Oh, right. She didn't need to report for morning training, tend to her herb garden, prepare breakfast, or see how the bottles she had brewed overnight were coming along.
Realizing that, Rishe buried her face in the pillow. "So soft," she murmured.
Judging by the position of the sun, it was about six o'clock in the morning. She was pretty sure she had gone to bed around midnight last night.
I slept for six whole hours?
Rishe couldn't believe it. Generally, she was used to getting about four hours of sleep. On bad days, at the height of an emergency as a knight or apothecary, she wouldn't even get that much.
I've got nothing but cleaning on the schedule today. Hostages can sleep in, right? At least a little?
Excitement suffused her at the thought, but that was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Lady Rishe, are you awake? It's Oliver—Prince Arnold's attendant."
Rishe sat up with a start. "I'm awake!"
Oliver continued to speak through the door. "I apologize for bothering you at such an early hour. I'm here with a delivery."
"Just a moment!" Rishe slipped out of the bed, dressed quickly, and tugged the bed's canopy closed.
She opened the door to find Oliver standing in the hallway with a polite smile.
He apologized again. "This was the only time I could slip away from His Highness's office. I'm glad to see that you're already dressed."
"Not at all." Rishe paused, stepping back to allow him inside. "Oh my. You look exhausted."
Oliver grimaced. "Is it that obvious? We've been climbing through mountains of paperwork, but never mind me. His Highness has been working around the clock."
Rishe thought back to yesterday, how he had come all the way out to the balcony. He should have used that spare time to sleep. "He's in high demand, isn't he? He was even working on the trip over."
"He finished all the work he brought along with us," Oliver confirmed. "Now he's dealing with everything that piled up during his visit to Hermity."
"Oh." Rishe grimaced in sympathy. He may have killed her in a past life, but she wouldn't wish the bureaucracy of kingship on anyone. "It's a shame he had to put his work on hold to attend a silly engagement party."
"No matter. That party was how a committed bachelor finally found a bride."
His smile was sincere, but Rishe knew better. She spread her arms. "Go on. Shall I spin around so you have a better view?"
Oliver blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"You're looking me over like I'm a horse for sale. If there's anything I can help you with, please let me know."
Oliver's brows went up. He let out a little breath of resignation. "His Highness was right. You do possess the keen perception of a knight. Of course, I'm purely an amateur myself."
I'd say this was a merchant's sixth sense, rather than battle intuition.
This wasn't the first time Rishe had caught Oliver looking at her. It reminded her of the way her noble customers would examine a product, assessing worth and authenticity. Or a merchant weeding out potential merchandise from a wide array of choices.
In other words, he was appraising her.