Hopefully this was enough to set something into motion.
After this conversation, she was certain—Arnold himself was the reason she hadn't yet been introduced to the royal family.
Let's see…Prince Theodore, four sisters, the empress, and the current emperor. I want to speak to him the most.
But without even a basic introduction, that seemed like it'd be a long way off. She turned this over in her mind and remembered Arnold's orders from last night: Don't talk to my brother.
Clearly, neither of them thought favorably of the other. But that wasn't rare for siblings, was it?
Why would Arnold warn me? He might have been afraid Prince Theodore would harm me. Or perhaps he fears Prince Theodore and I will join forces and conspire against him. No, maybe it really is to keep Theodore from doing something nefarious to me.
Why would Arnold prioritize Rishe over his own brother, though? She looked back thoughtfully at the knights as they followed her down the cloister between her wing and the main palace.
"Tell me, do the princes get along well?"
The answer was obvious, but the knights looked shaken all the same. "M-my lady, I'm afraid it is not our place to judge such matters."
"I suppose not," Rishe hummed. "Then were you ordered to make sure I stay away from Prince Theodore?"
"It is not our place to say," he repeated.
Their evasion was answer enough, and Rishe felt a little guilty manipulating them. "My apologies, I know it's an odd question. I'll arrange for a ration of spirits to be sent to the barracks this evening."
"You're too kind, my lady!" One said eagerly.
"We're all grateful for your refreshments," said another. "Everyone always talks about how remarkably well you seem to understand us."
She laughed. Of course she understood them—she had firsthand experience with the knightly mind.
Regardless, I do need information. If they won't speak openly with me, I'll be forced to use another method.
A familiar voice drifted over from around the corner: "Arrange for the troops. I'll contact you shortly about the organization of the platoon."
Oh. Rishe rounded a bend and found herself at the training grounds. There, she spotted Arnold. He was speaking with a man on the verge of old age. Rishe remembered him—he was a count who worked in military affairs. She'd met him at the banquet.
The count stood with two knights, facing Arnold with an air of discontent.
"With all due respect, Your Highness, this large allocation of troops hardly seems necessary. Expending so much of the treasury to protect the common population will displease the nobility."
"The nobility have their own private armies," Arnold said. "And we already provide them the financial means to maintain those armies. If they still think that's not enough, let them complain."
"Your Highness, I beg you to reconsider. Your father will surely disapprove."
Arnold's glare was chilly. "Enough. You've made your opinion known. Just follow my orders."
"Urk!"
Rishe could feel the force of Arnold's enmity from here; it made her gasp even though she was nowhere near. Such a palpable tension in the air. Almost numbing. The knights accompanying her grew noticeably nervous.
Arnold looked over. Across the distance, their eyes locked.
He's practically challenging me to see if I have anything to add.
A bit unpleasant, if you ask me.
Rishe had nothing. From where she stood, Arnold's judgment was sound. She just wanted to show her support. She took a moment to decide how best to convey that, before raising her fist and clenching it, twisting her features into a slightly overblown scowl. Give them hell, Your Highness!
I hope he catches mydrift.
Despite how deadly serious Rishe had been, Arnold frowned.
Oh no, he didn't get it? Darn. Hmm, what's another way to show I support him?
She racked her brain trying to come up with another idea, but all it did was elicit a sigh from the prince. Then he cracked a smile.
So gentle was his expression that it instantly put Rishe on guard. If she had been wearing her sword, she would have reflexively drawn it. In her defense, it was probably the emotional whiplash. He had seemed so toweringly angry with the count, and now he looked like he didn't have a care in the world.
Why in the world is he looking at me like that?!
The suffocating tension had drained from the training grounds. Arnold's expression was smooth as he said to the count, "I shall send out a missive if and when the nobility cause trouble."
"A missive?"
"We need to persuade them that protecting the common citizens of this nation is to their benefit, yes? By offering them military strength, and sending those knights out on patrol to keep the people safe, that should bring about a difference in their final tax yields."
"Er, will it?" The count looked confused.
"If the people can focus on their work, tend to their families, and raise their children in an environment with ample public security, then the nobles will be thrilled when they receive more in taxes," Arnold explained patiently.
The count opened his mouth to object, then hung his head in dejection. "By that logic, you may be able to quell the voices of dissatisfaction."
"Then I'll go ahead and calculate how much it will take to persuade them. Dismissed." Arnold turned on his heel and walked away.
Rishe heaved a great sigh when he was out of sight. Her shoulders ached from the tension.
I'm not sure what happened just now, but I'm glad it seems to be defensive instead of warmongering. God, it's incredible how much destruction beautiful people can cause with a single look.
Glancing at the knights, she saw they were smiling for some reason. They were odd smiles, rather fond, and directed her way.
She cocked her head in bemusement.
At any rate, I need to look into Theodore and Arnold's relationship. I hoped to work on my business proposal today, but that will have to wait.
With that, Rishe went off to gather intelligence and information needed.
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