Arnold's surprise lasted only for a moment before he grinned and shot back, "The sound would be a deterrent, but archers aren't much of a threat. Every single one of them are obsessed with knightly virtues. They're only good for support. They're not well trained, and there's a limit to how accurately they can shoot."
"Ugh… I guess you're right."
"I investigate my targets beforehand, but I've never pulled my troops back from mere archers."
As far as Rishe knew, only the eastern continent valued archers' skills. Without at least a foundational level of respect, few if any would master the art in Galkhein. In her life as a knight, Arnold hadn't been intimidated in the least by their archers. As the side being invaded, she wished he'd learned to practice caution.
"If your palace is a battlefield, then you're on the defensive," Arnold said. "An inferior position. How would you handle that?"
"Well, if you were the enemy general, I'd purposely create a break in our defensive line, drawing you in."
"Oh? You'd invite the enemy inside?"
"But you'd be too cautious," Rishe went on. "You wouldn't charge straight in, would you? I could win if I could maintain my resistance of the siege; my main directive would be to never give the enemy the impression that my position is inferior. I'd make you think I was lying in wait instead of fleeing; I would show myself to you openly."
"Interesting."
In the dancing lights of the fireflies, Arnold put his elbow on the balcony railing. "Your most crucial detail would be the number of troops. The south side of the palace is the least defensible. What would you do there?"
"I'd be forced to utilize the environment. Set traps, for instance…"
Arnold had no end of battle tactics with which to oppose her. Rishe thought and made suggestions, and Arnold quickly tore through them. Watching the beautiful lights, Rishe felt her frustration building.
"Is there some endless spring of battle tactics inside of you, Prince Arnold?" Rishe asked him at last.
"I wish. Tactics naturally sprout from people's weaknesses."
"Weaknesses…"
"Even when attacking a fortress—a campaign that can lead to massive casualties—you can easily exploit an enemy's weakness. Capture the country's women and children and slaughter them in front of the castle walls, for instance, and the enemy soldiers will run out on their own to save them. Ideas like that aren't hard to conjure up."
Wide-eyed, Rishe blinked. She couldn't read any emotion from the prince's profile as he gazed at the fireflies.
"You hate war, don't you?"
Arnold furrowed his brow and looked down at her. "A normal person would have the opposite impression, I believe."
"Really? I don't think someone who likes war would look the way you do now."
She smiled at him, and his frown deepened. Rishe's eyes trailed after a firefly as it drifted closer. The bead of light blinked, faintly illuminating Arnold's hair and features. Rishe could almost see stardust in the prince's blue eyes. His azure irises, so like the sea, fixed her in place and stole her heart even more than the wondrous glint of the fireflies.
Rishe found herself muttering, "You really do have beautiful eyes…"
She'd said it without thinking, but it seemed to annoy him. Arnold's gaze fell, calling attention to his long lashes. "These eyes match my father's." He said, voice unsteady. "They're proof that I am the emperor's son. When I was a child, there were times when I wanted to gouge them out of my skull."
"Oh, Your Highness…"
Arnold looked at Rishe and spoke to her quietly, sincerely, as if these were simple facts. "They aren't 'beautiful.' Don't look at them like they hold any value."
His words lanced Rishe's heart. Arnold looked away from her, gazing out into the firefly-lit darkness toward the capital city. In the daytime, they could see the city streets from their balconies, but now all was silent and dark.
"On the day you arrived, you told me you'd always wanted to come to this country."
"Yes. And when I went down to the town, I realized what an amazing place it was."
"I can't value the same things you do. I see the lights of insects as the fires of war, and the town you fondly gaze down upon sometimes disgusts me." Arnold sucked in a breath. "Maybe it's because I have my father's eyes. Or maybe he and I are one in the same at our cores. Either way, it's unsightly."
Arnold wore nearly the same neutral expression he always did, but Rishe could sense the emotions simmering beneath his words.
"Do you remember when I treated the knights with an antidote on our journey here?" Rishe asked him, and Arnold looked back at her.
"You extolled their virtues then, Your Highness. And you only knew those virtues because you observed them up close, right? Everything else you see is the same way."
Slowly, she went on, "Are the lights you see in the distance the fires of war, or are they the beautiful glimmer of fireflies? Your perspective isn't an immutable thing passed down to you from your parents but something you build up by experience. All you need to do is learn. You have plenty of time to see the beauty of this country, to learn about wonderful creatures like fireflies."
Rishe held Arnold's blue-eyed gaze as she spoke, hiding the pain in her heart with a bright smile. She fervently held back from patting his head like he was a child.
"I'm sure you'll find plenty of beauty and things you value in the future."