Seamlessly, she changed direction. She raced for the balcony, where she ran into something at full speed.
“Bwargh!” Rishe let out a very unladylike grunt, staggering a few steps. She looked up to see what she’d bounced off of. “Oh…”
An exceptionally handsome man stood in her path.
He had refined, patrician features and cruel, thin lips. He was slender yet powerful; even through his clothes, Rishe could tell his body was well conditioned. His jet-black hair covered his ears, creeping down to the nape of his neck. The tips of his locks bounced with his movements. They looked to be soft to the touch.
From head to toe, he was a pleasure to look at—but what held Rishe’s attention were his eyes. They were long in shape and impossibly blue, but they possessed a blade-sharp intensity. His gaze was clear, beautiful, and cold as ice. His eyelashes cast shadows on his striking face. He was a work of art.
Currently, this work of art was staring her down with a look that could kill.
He laughed. “You barreled right into me. For a moment, I thought I’d been attacked by a wild boar.”
It was an exceedingly rude thing to say to a stranger, but as luck would have it, this man was not a stranger. At least not to Rishe.
“What are you even doing here?” the man went on. “The party is in the—”
Rishe interrupted him with a wordless shout of dismay. The man drew back, reflexively reaching for his sword. He composed himself with visible difficulty. “Who are you? You look like any noblewoman, but your manner is…”
“Emperor Arnold Hein!”
The man’s eyes widened. He didn’t mistake her surging contempt. Rishe had crossed swords with this man. Recently. He was the one responsible for ending her sixth life.
He must be a guest at the banquet. It makes sense.
Arnold Hein was the scion of a military nation not far from Rishe’s home country of Hermity, the one in which they now stood. Their kingdoms, so recently at war, had brokered an ostensible peace, and the two ruling families met from time to time. Crown Prince Dietrich’s engagement party would be one such occasion. He’d gathered elites from far and wide to introduce to his beloved Mary.
The man eyed Rishe with rising curiosity. “You know me? This is my first time in Hermity.”
Uh-oh. Rishe pasted on a smile as her mind spun in circles. This man was dangerous. She had to avoid entanglements with him at all costs. Five years from now, Arnold Hein would invade Hermity.
He was an extraordinarily skilled swordsman and, with a powerful military at his back, was destined to conquer kingdom after kingdom. He had done as much in her second, third, fourth, and fifth lives. In her sixth, Rishe had faced him in battle herself and died by his hand.
We never had a chance. That war was lost before it began.
Arnold’s brilliance lay not in his swordplay but in his skill as a tactician. He set countries up for conquest and knocked them down, swallowing them one by one.
I know him, but he doesn’t know me. We haven’t met in this life. I need an excuse fast.
Rishe curtsied slowly. “My name is Rishe Irmgard Weitzner. We’ve never been introduced, but I’ve heard of you.”
Arnold donned an amused smile. “You plant your weight like a trained swordswoman. Your center of gravity is perfect.”
“You exaggerate,” Rishe demurred. “That was simply a curtsy to an esteemed guest.”
“I must have misheard, but I swear you called me ‘emperor’ just now.”
Rishe froze.
“My father yet lives,” Arnold said. “I am simply a crown prince. Why would you call me that?”
“Uh, um…” Rishe floundered for an answer.
She’d made such a foolish mistake. Arnold’s gaze cut right through her. It felt like he’d see through any lie she told right down to her soul. She remembered this from the battlefield—how his attention alone felt like a sword thrust.
But why even bother to lie? They’d never meet again, so who cared what he thought of her? Sure, she harbored a hard feeling or two over the recent slaying, but there was no point complaining about it to this Arnold. Calling him the emperor was boorish, but Rishe was in the process of being forcibly exiled. Why play at diplomacy?
She took a deep breath and bowed low. This was not the curtsy of a noble lady but of a servant bowing in supplication to her master.
“My humblest apologies, Your Highness. I was in a rush. Such a rude slip of the tongue.” She raised her head. “My ex-fiancé just annulled our engagement, so I’ve got a lot on my mind. If you would excuse me.”
“He annulled your engagement?”
At that, Rishe turned and fled.
This unexpected run-in with Arnold had taken up valuable time. She threw open the door to the balcony and hiked up her skirts, kicking off her shoes in anticipation of jumping into a tree. Looking down, she realized the ground was far closer than she’d feared.
Excellent! I can just drop into the garden!
Arnold, who up until now had been rendered speechless, shook himself out of his fugue as Rishe clambered over the railing. “Hey!”
Rishe’s moonlight-silver dress flowed around her as she leapt. The lawn was soft, but the fall was still far enough to risk injury.
Weight evenly distributed on the soles of my feet, roll to transfer the impact to my shins and thighs, then onto my hips and my back.
She landed safely, rolled nimbly in her dress, and popped back up. Her hair was covered in leaves.
I need to hurry up!
Bracing against a nearby rock, she used her weight to snap the heels off of her shoes. There. That would make running a little easier. Satisfied, she slipped them back on and made haste toward the family estate.
✦ ✦ ✦
Up on the balcony, Crown Prince Arnold of Galkhein watched the spectacle play out from beginning to end. He gazed at the girl with the coral hair. Her appearance was that of any young noblewoman, but she moved like a well-trained knight. She’d leapt from the balcony and landed skillfully, showing no signs of distress at her ripped dress or disheveled hair. Instead, she’d knocked the heels off her shoes and dashed away.
Also, she had called him an emperor.
Playing it all over again in his head, Arnold broke out into a rare chuckle. As his shoulders quivered with laughter, his attendant approached him from behind.
“There you are, Your Highness. What are you doing out here? I’m aware you don’t desire a wife, but beginning the search would be wise… Er, Your Highness?” The attendant’s eyes flew wide. His bored and scowling master was laughing. “Did something happen?”
“Oliver, ready my coach. Wait, no. That will take too much time. Bring me a horse.”
“At once, Your Highness. Might I ask why?”
Arnold didn’t respond—he just grinned like a hungry wolf catching scent of his prey.