Next up is the church, so I should—
While she was making plans in her head, Arnold put his pen down and studied her. "I see you've got your scheming face on again."
"Heavens, no! Perish the thought!"
Rishe donned a smile and veered the conversation off-topic. "Oh, I have one more thing to report about Coyolles's technology, Prince Arnold!"
Giddy, she pulled a small velvet box out of her bag.
Arnold could guess what was inside. "It's finished, then."
"It is."
Inside the box was the ring Arnold had bought for her. A craftsman from Coyolles had presented it to Rishe this very afternoon.
Rishe hadn't seen it yet either—it was still inside the box. She figured if she was opening a present, she should do it in front of the one who gave it to her.
"I promised to show it to you as soon as it was complete, didn't I?"
Arnold didn't respond.
"I peeked at the design a little while ago, and it was gorgeous. I'm sure the finished product is—"
Before she could excitedly open the box, Arnold called her name as if to stop her.
"Rishe."
Rishe looked up and found him staring straight at her.
With the same blank look he'd worn earlier, Arnold quietly said, "You don't need to put it on and show me."
Rishe's heart thrummed in her chest. She suddenly found she couldn't look Arnold in the face. She hung her head, trying to hide the no-doubt pathetic look she was wearing.
What is this feeling?
She found herself squeezing the ring box on her lap, confused by the welling emotions. Why was she suddenly overcome with sorrow and loneliness?
"By that, you mean…?" Was all she managed to say, trying to mask the hoarseness in her voice.
Why did she feel so miserable? Normally, she was perfectly happy to appreciate the things she liked on her own without letting anyone else's opinion bother her.
"I believe I told you the only thing I wanted to do was buy you the ring."
Even after that, she still couldn't muster the courage to look at him. Her heart hurt so much she feared she might never be able to look at him again. And a crown princess who couldn't even stand the sight of her husband had more to worry about than whether she was suited for the position.
What do I do?
While her thoughts spiraled, Arnold spoke up again. "I have no right to ask for anything more."
"Huh?"
Rishe's head snapped up. Well, there was that worry gone. She was looking at him fine.
When their eyes met, Arnold abandoned his pen and leaned back in his chair.
"You should wear what you like. I'm not going to force you to wear anything just because I gave it to you."
"Oh, Prince Arnold…"
"That goes for the wedding as well. Wear whatever you want without worrying what anyone else will think."
When Rishe heard that, she finally understood what Arnold was trying to do: respect her wishes.
Normally, a crown princess wouldn't be given anywhere near this level of freedom. She was only a duke's daughter, but Rishe had been taught from a young age that some things had to be prioritized over her own desires.
Even now, Rishe couldn't stop herself from thinking that way sometimes. It had happened back in the jewelry store, when she'd considered their wedding and her position as the crown princess over her own preferences.
But Prince Arnold is saying that he respects my wishes. That I need not force myself to wear this ring, even if he bought it for me.
Arnold was always like this. Whether it was dressing like a man or studying alchemy, he allowed her to do as she liked.
He's not just indifferent or thoughtless. He's actively supporting my desire for freedom.
The thought should have made her happy.
I should be glad. I know it's asking too much to want more, but…
Rishe found herself muttering sulkily, "No…"
"What?"
Even she thought she sounded immature. Arnold was surprised—he hadn't expected her to react like that. Shocking him was rare, so Rishe revealed the truth, despite her desire to keep it a secret.
"Do you remember how I chose the ring finger on my left hand when they measured me?"
"Yeah. I asked you why, but you didn't tell me."
"In my country, when a couple is married, the husband presents the wife with a ring. It's a tradition that began with the first king and queen. The ring is always worn on the left ring finger."
That was why Rishe had chosen that finger. When she told him, Arnold frowned for some reason.
"Even someone like me respects that tradition."
She'd probably just said something she shouldn't have, but she couldn't stop herself all the same. Driven by some obstinate feeling, Rishe stood, holding the ring box.
"I want to wear this ring for the ceremony, and I'll choose a dress that matches it! You say I don't need to, but I plan to wear it all the time!"
"Rishe, calm down."
"I-In fact, I wanted to put it on right away, but I held myself back and came here first!"
Rishe stomped over until she was right in front of Arnold's desk. He swallowed nervously. "So…please put it on my finger right now, Prince Arnold."
She set the box down in front of him and thrust out her left hand.
Arnold knit his brows and said, "I'm not wearing gloves right now."
"Ugh…"
When she'd first met him in this life, she'd made Arnold swear not to lay a finger on her, and he'd been diligently upholding that promise, wearing gloves to parties and other such places.
Right now, however, his hands were bare. Rishe could see the flex of tendons under his skin that gloves would normally hide.
"You don't need them."
Telling him that was embarrassing, but it was easier than saying, Go ahead and touch me skin to skin.