Chapter 63: My future bride

"Swords down!"

The short command echoed through the training grounds. Rishe and Sven had faced off, and their bout had just been called. It hadn't even taken ten seconds.

"Thank you for the match." Rishe told Sven, pointing her sword down at him.

Sven was sitting on the ground, his face pale and mouth flapping as the blade stopped just short of grazing his nose.

The training grounds were dead silent. Lawvine was probably the only one not completely blank with shock.

"What the… How did you…?" Sven choked out.

Rishe extended her hand. "Can you stand, Sven?"

"This is impossible! You don't have any stamina at all! Or strength!"

"Which is why I didn't use either to take you down."

The spectating trainees were utterly stumped. Sven shook his head, unable to stand their gazes. "How? How could I lose to you?!"

"I'm sorry if I scared you, but it's important to me not to cause Fritz any trouble." Rishe knelt and looked Sven in the eye.

"Personally, I'd like us all to be friends."

"Agh!" Sven shot up.

Rishe hadn't meant to be aggressive but had evidently upset him. She watched Sven scurry back to his companions, then backed away herself.

Fritz ran up to her, his eyes sparkling. "Lu! You were amazing, just like I thought you'd be!"

"Looks like I have been making things harder for you. I'm sorry about that."

Rishe lowered her head apologetically.

He stared at her. "Why are you apologizing? Anything I did, I did because I wanted to. Now you're making me feel like I should apologize to you."

"I didn't do this for you. It was a good lesson for Sven—if he gets into the habit of underestimating his enemies, he'll end up dead."

Fritz's eyes went wide.

"Plus, now I know that Sven has incredible reflexes. It would be a bit of a waste if Lord Lawvine didn't pay him more attention."

Their training period was only ten days long, making every moment of personalized coaching crucial. Rishe was considering all this with deep sincerity as Fritz grinned at her. "You know, you're pretty weird, Lu."

"Oh yeah, and about the way you call me 'Lu'…"

"Oh! I thought it was a good nickname. Y'know, short for Lucius. Should I stop?"

Rishe shook her head. She'd had the same nickname in her life as a knight; it was very nostalgic. "No, I like it. Thanks, Fritz."

When she smiled at Fritz, he clutched at his chest.

"What's wrong?"

Is he unwell? It didn't seem like it.

"Nothing, it's just… Um, I dunno…" Fritz cleared his throat.

"Er… Oh, that's right! We were gonna go eat in town after training today. But I guess you've got work as always, huh?"

"Yeah… I have a pretty important job to do after this."

**************************************

In the afternoon, Rishe shed her disguise, took a bath, and dressed to the nines. She put up her wavy coral hair halfway for a tidy look and donned a dress the color of soft moonlight. She wore pearl earrings and painted her fingernails light pink. Then she accompanied Arnold—who wore a cape and white gloves with his usual military uniform—to a reception room.

As they strode through the palace, Rishe whispered, "His Highness Prince Kyle greeted His and Her Majesty this morning, correct? Did anything strange happen?"

Arnold looked extremely irritated. "My father apparently granted Coyolles's prince permission to stay here for as long as he likes. Though I have no idea how long someone who can't attend my wedding for undisclosed reasons would wish to remain."

Rishe pulled a taut smile at his prickly response. Arnold was right to be annoyed; Kyle was breaking social etiquette.

That's what I find so strange about this, though.

Kyle was diligent and courteous. Rishe knew that better than most.

"Your Highness, thank you for drawing up those notes on your condition after you took the medicine."

This had happened during her life as an apothecary—right after she'd taken over caring for Kyle from her master. With his official duties over for the day, Kyle had continued to shut himself in his study, running a pen across paper.

"I beg of you, please rest. If you collapse, this will all be for nothing."

"Don't worry. I'm not pushing myself, Weitzner."

The prince, who called her by her last name, had spoken as he formed each letter on the page with care.

"I understand the pains you and your master have taken to develop this new medicine. I wish to help in any way I can. I can't cut corners."

"I think my master forgot all about those pains the moment we perfected the medicine. And if she hasn't, she surely will when you make a complete recovery, Your Highness."

Rishe's comment had been somewhat flippant, but Kyle had given her a solemn look and said, "I'll do my best."

He always interacted with me sincerely and politely when I met him in my other lives too. At the very least, he's not the type to barge in on someone without considering the circumstances of the people putting him up…

As she mulled it over, they arrived at the reception room. The knights on guard opened the door, and she stepped inside with Arnold.

Arnold would sit first, but Rishe couldn't follow suit. She may have been engaged to him, but as they were not yet married, her position was merely that of a duke's daughter from Hermity. As such, she was not permitted to sit in on a meeting between a crown prince and a foreign royal. Until the two men were finished with their greetings, she would wait in the corner of the room.

"His Highness, Prince of Coyolles, Kyle Morgan Cleverly."

Rishe fell into a bow. She would not rise until Arnold and Kyle had finished greeting each other and thus could only hear them.

"Congratulations on your engagement, Prince Arnold. I, Kyle Morgan Cleverly, have come from Coyolles in place of my father the king to wish you a blessed union."

"I sincerely appreciate you making the long journey. Your country's blessing will ensure a bright future for my own nation."

As the eldest princes of their respective countries, the two of them should have been on equal footing—but the way they spoke suggested otherwise. Coyolles was small fry compared to Galkhein.

The difference in their standings is obvious even with Coyolles's wealth of gem and gold deposits, Rishe thought. The problem was their other resources.

The country is covered in snow all winter, which makes procurement and transportation of food difficult. They burn through firewood rapidly. They can't produce enough food and fuel for their country on their own.

They had wealth, but that just made them a juicier target for more powerful kingdoms. Their tenuous position was maintained with vigorous diplomacy and political marriages. Coyolles could absolutely not afford to make an enemy out of the militant Galkhein across the sea.

Five years from now, Coyolles will stand with the rest of the world against Galkhein…and fall to invasion.

Coyolles's central issues were the fragility of both its military and its heir Prince Kyle. The fact of Kyle himself braving a harsh journey by ship to come here spoke volumes.

Eventually, the exchange of greetings came to an end, and Rishe sensed Arnold looking her way.

"Rishe."

"Yes, Your Highness."

Rishe raised her head. She paced over to Arnold—who hadn't yet sat down—and stood at his side.

"This is Rishe, my future bride. We appreciate you coming to congratulate us."

"I'm very pleased to meet you."

Rishe looked at Kyle head-on. His skin was white as porcelain and his hair was silver, almost illuminating his expression as it framed his face. His eyes were a light blue, a levity to them that belied his strong will. They were like the clear surface of a lake.

He really is like an ice spirit.

She recalled the way the girls in his own country would blush when speaking of him.