FOR A FEW DAYS after her kidnapping, Rishe recuperated in her nice, fluffy bed. She kept her gardening work to the bare minimum, left the maids' training to Diana, and ate plenty of nutritious food. While she did fill out order forms to merchants and continue her nail polish business plan from bed, she mostly just slept. A lot. With the help of a medicine she'd created herself, she fully recovered within five days.
After receiving a clean bill of health from the palace physician, she paid a visit to a certain room in the castle, feeling tense.
"Enter."
Steeling herself, Rishe stepped into her fiancé's office. "Good day, Your Highness. I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to see me."
Arnold stopped writing and slowly set his pen down next to his papers.
"This is the first time you've ever called a formal meeting."
Rishe was an utter ball of nerves. Her plan, which had been in the making for a long time, was entering its final stages. For the sake of the maids who had escorted her here—and for herself—she had to perform her duty.
Everything will be fine. I've done the best that I could.
Arnold returned her uneasy look with a composed smile. "What could this meeting be about, I wonder? You're far too anxious to have come solely to see your fiancé's face."
"You've seen right through me," Rishe said. "Let me get straight to the point, then."
Arnold's attendant, Oliver, threw her a cautious look. She took a deep breath and, after letting the tension sufficiently build, declared, "Your rooms in the detached palace are ready!"
Arnold's brow furrowed. "What?"
Even twisted in a grimace, his face was handsome. Rishe couldn't help but notice as she explained, "You have an office on the second floor and a bedroom on the fourth—the top floor. I apologize for the long wait."
The chambers had, in reality, been ready a short while ago, but she hadn't wanted Arnold present until her maids were master cleaners. Taking care of the crown prince when they were still learning their jobs would have been unnecessarily stressful.
"You've got a study and a place to sleep, so feel free to move in to the detached palace anytime! If you'd like, I can escort you there right now."
Rishe's enthusiasm did not lessen Arnold's natural sullenness. "That's why you came here to tell me?"
"Yes, that's right."
Arnold sighed. "Then what were you so nervous about?"
"Nerves are natural! Do you know how hard my precious maids have worked for this day? This is like a graduation exam for them, so of course I'm nervous, too!"
Rishe knew how hard the maids had all worked to make it this far. Their days began early in the morning, and they assisted each other whenever they could.
Once the maids finished their tasks, they studied reading and writing to put that knowledge to use in their next day's work. Rishe had done all the final checks; the windows were polished to a sparkle and the sheets were pristine. So great was their improvement that their teachers—the senior maids like Diana—were moved to tears.
"Despite my nerves, I am confident that the rooms are of the highest quality. Please, I invite you to come see them."
Arnold sighed again and rested his chin in his hand. "I thought you wanted to live by yourself in that palace."
"Of course I don't! I want to live there with you, Prince Arnold." That was the whole point of a detached wing—to distance Arnold from the main palace, which was far too big for Rishe.
This seemed to surprise the prince, but then his expression softened into a smile. "I see."
Arnold's gaze almost convinced Rishe that he knew her true intentions.
"Another amusing scheme, I presume."
"P-perish the thought!"
He was exactly right, in a way. Maybe he really could read minds. Rishe felt her panic rising; if Arnold grew suspicious, he might decide against moving in to the detached palace.
As she fretted, Arnold stood up. "Very well. I'll go along with your little plot. After all, you've already improved one thing for me."
"Huh?" Rishe sputtered. "I have? Improved what?"
"My mood. Let's go."
Rishe glanced at Oliver in confusion, but he just bowed his head, wearing a wry smile and mouthing the words, "Thank you."
I guess His Highness was in a bad mood before I came in?
Somehow, his mood had lightened. Wondering what could have possibly caused that, Rishe hurried to catch up.
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"…And this is your bedroom, Your Highness." Rishe told Arnold, standing beside him at the door.
Several maids watched anxiously from a little ways down the hall, likely wondering what he thought of the office he'd just seen.
Rishe caught their eyes, smiling and nodding. The maids' faces lit up, and they grabbed for each other's hands. Rishe's cheeks flushed with pleasure at the sight, and then she opened the door.
The color blue dominated the bedroom, which was perfectly neat from one corner to the other. Arnold's would-be bed featured a deep azure canopy, tightly fitted sheets, and fluffy pillows. A round, amber-colored desk sat beside it. A finely woven rug lined the floor, a high-quality piece that muffled Arnold's footsteps to silence and bore not a speck of dust.
"What do you think? It's a fine room, isn't?"
"Yeah."
Arnold's honest praise delighted Rishe. "I consulted with Oliver and decided to give you the bare minimum of furniture, so when you move in, you can bring your own bookshelves and whatever else you might want."
"That works. Still, I'm surprised."
Arnold stood in the center of the room, looking around with a great interest. "This place hasn't been used in years. I'm impressed you did all this in just three weeks."
She giggled. "Aren't my maids great?"
"Very impressive, indeed." Arnold turned to look at her. "You took new hires and trained them up, correct? They've prepared a palace for the royal family. With the crown prince himself acknowledging their skill, they'll never have trouble finding work again."
"Exactly right," Rishe said. "With that assurance, they need not ever worry about their futures."
"And that's not all they'll gain."
Rishe tilted her head. "?"
"Pride," Arnold explained. "They'll feel pride for a job well done. That may not be a necessity for survival, but there are times when it can keep you alive."
Slowly, Arnold lowered his eyes. Rishe couldn't say for sure, but he seemed happy. He gazed at her like he was looking at something important. "You've got a talent for making people feel proud of themselves."
Rishe had no idea what he was talking about. She stared back at him, dazed, until his shoulders began to tremble.
"Heh…"
A puff of laughter escaped his lips. "Is that any sort of face to make when I compliment you?"
His amusement made her sigh. "I was just trying to see if you were teasing me or not."
"You wound me. Those were my heartfelt thoughts."
"How sad. Well, even if you didn't mean it, I'll happily accept your praise."
She'd take a compliment from this incomparable man anytime. Arnold's eyes widened, and Rishe smiled, pleased to get back at him.
"By the way, did you notice? This room gets the most sunlight in the entire wing. If you open the window, there's a very pleasant breeze. It's the perfect place to nap."
"I don't often find myself returning to my bedroom during the day, unfortunately," Arnold said. "You should have kept this room for yourself."
"Oh? The best room in the house, for a hostage ? I'm planning for a life of ease here; taking this room would be going too far. A shiftless empress-to-be shouldn't have such nice things."
"Shiftless…? " Arnold looked dubious but ultimately did not comment further.
"Come to think of it, your room's just next to this one, right?"
"Yes. I figured having our rooms close by would be easier on security."
"That's easier on me too," Arnold agreed. "I might catch wind of your antics before they become a problem."
"Oh, I have no more antics planned, just lazing around from now on. Well…"
Rishe paused. "Maybe one or two."
"Don't be stupid," Arnold said softly, exasperated. "You can do as you like as long as you don't put yourself at risk anymore, okay? "
"I'm sorry."
Feeling repentant from the scolding, Rishe recalled something she wanted to ask him. "By the way, Your Highness. Speaking of antics, allow me to beg your permission."
"For what?"
At Arnold's wary question, Rishe flashed a sunny smile.
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