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alpindale

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light-novels

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Arnold took his hand from her neck, cupping her cheek instead. The moonlight shone through the stained-glass window, casting the shadow of his lashes over his face. He brushed his thumb against the corner of her eye.

“You have the gaze of someone ready to die for what she believes in, who will fight for it with every last breath. You look like…someone who still believes life is worth living.”

Rishe found herself unable to move. All she could do was look up at Arnold.

In her eyes, Arnold seemed to be gazing past her, to wars fought long ago, far away. Perhaps he was seeing the faces of the people he had killed.

“Having to end the life of someone like that,” he said, “is what I fear most in the world.”

Rishe didn’t say a word. So, he was afraid. Sometimes. She knew it. She’d known it all along. No matter what the past contained, or the future held, the man who stood before her was not a merciless killer.

“I…” Rishe swallowed, finding her voice again. “Sometimes, I feel like I don’t belong in this world anymore.”

It was an incoherent confession, but she said it anyway. She didn’t know how else to answer his question.

He waited for her to continue. Rishe pushed herself on, adding lies to the truth she couldn’t offer him. “I’ve had dreams of…watching myself die. But I’m not dreaming now. I’m here, breathing and alive. But despite knowing I’m awake, I am still very afraid sometimes.”

“What are you afraid of?”

Rishe breathed out. “That—that I’m already dead. That my life ended in that instant and this world is nothing but an endless dream.”

As soon as she spoke, Rishe felt a hard pressure on her chest. What’s this I’m feeling?

Instantly, it clicked: She wasn’t lying. Deep down, there was a part of her that believed this. She didn’t want this life to end in death. Her seventh life would be the one she survived. She wanted to do her best to keep on living.

But she’d thought that in her past lives as well. She’d lived through the second and third, the fourth, the fifth and sixth life—always with that truth lurking in the innermost depths of her heart. No matter what she did, in five years, it would all be over. Perhaps this world wasn’t even real. And once her thoughts drifted in that direction, all she felt was paralyzing fear.

Stop it. Rishe squeezed her eyes shut. The fear means nothing. I’ll turn it into strength. It doesn’t matter.

Fear crept up on you faster the longer you stood still, so she looked up at Arnold again.

“I’ve made up my mind,” she told Arnold. “I don’t care if this life is a dream or if I’m destined for some awful end—I won’t run away.”

“Rishe…”

“I’m not what you think,” she said. “I’m not a warrior. But I am resolute in my determination to be your wife.”

Destiny would likely never lead her down this path again. After living her life over and over again, she’d experienced firsthand how difficult it was to force events to play out identically. She had to do her utmost now. To stop the war, to save herself.

And to save Arnold, who might not desire a future soaked in blood after all.

“That’s why I want to understand your heart,” she added.

He let out a short scornful laugh, almost inhuman. His hand slid from her cheek down to her chin. With his other arm, he drew her close by her waist.

Then a pair of soft lips met hers.

Rishe gasped into his kiss, mind struggling to keep up. An eternity seemed to pass before he drew away. He whispered, “You’re a fool.”

But his voice was gentle, full of sympathy, as if he were trying to persuade a child. And it was with a distinct note of loneliness that he said, “You don’t need to be resolute to become my wife.”

(2) chapter number given is likely out of range: 0

Chapter: 9

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

THE EVENING AFTER the incident at the chapel, Rishe was hurrying about the small kitchen of the detached palace. However, she wasn’t preparing food. A sweet, floral smell attracted the attention of a nearby maid, who sneaked up to peek.

“My lady?! What in the world—”

Piles and piles of flowers covered the table. Rishe gave them a little awkward chuckle as she plucked the petals off wilting roses. She had asked Elsie and the other maids to buy up as many unsold bouquets as they could from florists across the city.

“Sorry for the mess. I’ll be sure to clean them up, don’t worry.”

“Erm, sure, but that’s not why I’m surprised!”

Rishe hadn’t stopped with roses. There were orange gerberas and purple gentians. A mass of pink petals was already simmering on the stove.

“Oh! Are you going to dye something?” the maid asked, her face lighting up.

Rishe smiled at her. “I can’t tell you yet. But as soon as I’m finished, all of you will be the first to try it. Of course, I won’t force you if you don’t want to.”

“I’d love to help!” the astute maid answered. “I’m not sure with what yet, but I’ll be happy to.”

“Thanks.”

The maid returned to work, surely wondering what Rishe could possibly be brewing in the pot.

The girl seemed confident, but Rishe doubted she’d ever guess what the bottle sitting on the corner of the table contained. She began to clear up the leaves and stems. Maybe I should let this simmer a bit longer. I’m all done with the petals now.

Rishe sat down, rechecking a piece of paper containing all the information she had copied from various documents during a morning spent cooped up in the library. The population distribution for the imperial capital of Galkhein. The shifts in economic conditions. The state of affairs in surrounding areas and information detailing merchants and tourists. She sank into thought.

Based on this, I’ve come up with a deal to offer Mr. Tully. But I’m not completely happy with it.

She still had five days to go. Her samples should be finished by then, and the information she’d gathered should be enough to assure him of a potential profit, and to come up with a way for calculating interest rates and other such things. Although she was sure of her victory, she wasn’t satisfied.

All of this is publicly available information. She looked again at her writing. The fiancée of the crown prince should know so much more.

Rishe felt that keenly while reading the documents. She knew that Arnold had amassed political power as a result of his various feats during the war three years prior. The first thing he’d done was allocate reparations from other countries to purchase products from rural areas for a huge lump sum.

Although Galkhein had won the war, the victory was only felt by an elite few. The soldiers who fought, the blacksmiths who forged their swords, and the apothecaries who had made medicines for the front lines had all lost their jobs. Many of them sought work in the city—and when there was none to be found, they lived in the slums.

Meanwhile, the countryside had suffered from a labor shortage even during the war. There was no money to pay the wages of the men returning from battle, and the population continued to decline. Productivity in farming and fishing villages went down, heralding a huge spike in food prices nationwide.

Arnold had been taking measures to prevent that.

He used reparation funds to buy up crops and seafood. Once those industries were flush with cash, the jobless workers would begin to return to the countryside. According to the recent travel permit records Rishe had pored over, the strategy seemed to be working—the majority of permits had been granted to those traveling to the countryside to farm and for other similar reasons. People were returning home to find jobs. The supplies Arnold had bought up were offered to the destitute at subsidized prices, filling their bellies.

He’d invested a huge chunk of his own wealth in his scheme, and to show for it he had Galkhein’s increased productivity and rising birth rate. That meant an increase in tax yields and morale.

Rishe had learned all this solely from the documentation. This is the sort of thing you’d never learn from living outside of Galkhein.

The scene from the previous evening continued to play back in her mind. How Arnold had said, “You don’t need to be resolute in becoming my wife.”

What did that even mean? She couldn’t bring herself to ask him. The look on his face was too desolate, and too familiar.

That was exactly how he looked when he killed me.

There were so many things she wanted to know, but she’d held her tongue as he walked away. All she could do was replay the night over and over, remembering how he had kissed her. Rishe flinched at the memory, pressing her forehead to the table.

There wasn’t any deep meaning in that. How could there be? She had to stop thinking about this; she had far more pressing matters to attend to. Rishe squeezed her eyes shut and stood up, giving her cheeks a light pat and shifting her focus back to what was important.

First things first, on to the next step. I need to finish this!

She took the pot off the stove, straining the boiled petals from the liquid, letting them cool down as she readied another pot. Once the petals were no longer scalding hot, she wrapped them in a cloth and wrung them out.

Next, she picked up the glass bottle on the table. Inside was a clear, viscous liquid from the sap of a common tree. She mixed it together with the flower dye, taking care not to form bubbles. Once it was a uniform color, she poured the liquid back into the bottle, rocking it from side to side to settle it. That gave her a small vial of deep pink.

Rishe opened another glass bottle, dipping a small prepared brush inside. The contents were a milky color, made by mixing the sap of various herbs. Carefully, she smoothed the mixture over her nails. On top of that, she painted on the pink color, making sure there were no bumps.

Ten seconds later, the liquid began to feel hot. She waited several minutes, being careful not to do anything with her fingers. When she finally touched her nails, she found the lacquer glossy and hard. It set just as she was hoping.

Perfect. Rishe gazed at her rose-colored nails with satisfaction. The hardened sap shone like gems on her fingertips.

This was a substance Rishe had invented during her life as an apothecary. She’d used this concoction to strengthen the cracked nails of the injured. It was made of the sap of the common collini trees, mixed with three kinds of crushed herbs. The lacquer solidified in just a few minutes.

I need to experiment with other flowers to make sure the colors come out and how well they harden, she was thinking to herself when Elsie appeared.

“My lady, I thought I told you to take a break.” She had been checking on Rishe all day and was thoroughly displeased to find her still in the kitchen. “I’ll make you some tea, then you should sit down—”

She stopped, apparently having noticed Rishe’s nails. Her eyes lit up like stars. “They’re so shiny!”

Rishe couldn’t help but chuckle at her adorable squeal of excitement. “You’ve come at a good time.” She’d had a feeling Elsie would like this.

She instructed Elsie to wash her hands thoroughly and sit down across the table from her. After making sure that Elsie didn’t have any open cuts or wounds, Rishe went to work. She dipped the brush into the milky-white liquid, explaining how it worked as she painted Elsie’s nails.

“In a country far to the east, they have a culture of dyeing their nails with flowers. If we use this strengthening ointment for your nails below the pigment, the dye should last for a while, even with your cleaning duties.”

Curious, Elsie asked, “Do you mean it makes your nails stronger? Mine break so easily.”

“This should help with that. But the best remedy for brittle nails is to eat balanced meals rich in plenty of meat, fish, and legumes. Nails are a part of your skin. What’s good for your skin is good for your nails.”

“Meat, fish, and legumes,” Elsie muttered. “I’ll remember that. My family is poor, but I have my wages now!”

“You mentioned your family has fallen on hard times.”

Elsie nodded. “Even when we do buy meat and vegetables, it’s only enough to feed my younger brother and sister.”

Rishe had learned about Elsie’s family back before Elsie was her maid, when she’d mentioned why she needed this job so badly. It was all for their sake.

I know the capital city contains slums—one of the knights from our journey mentioned it after the bandit attack. He told me he was from a poor district. Rishe painted more base coat onto Elsie’s nails. Doubtless Arnold’s measures aren’t enough to save everyone. His policies have been so unpopular, some people have tried to block them.

Having finished the base coat, Rishe brought out the dyed sap polish. Elsie was transfixed, letting out a little coo of admiration as she watched. “It’s so beautiful. I’ve never seen anything so glossy and pretty.”

Elsie liked dressing up. She seemed to enjoy choosing Rishe’s gowns and doing her hair. She was so deft with her hands that she’d likely be excellent at applying polish on her own.

Rishe said, “I only have pink right now, but tell me what your favorite color is. I’ll give you the bottle when it’s finished.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly accept something so lovely.”

“On the contrary,” Rishe said. “You should most certainly accept. For my sake too. Seeing all of you wear my creation will make me happy.”

“My lady, I…”

Rishe let out a breath of relief as she finished with Elsie’s right hand. Mistakes with the polish were hard to fix. “What color would you like? We could do the pale blue of forget-me-nots or yellow of sunflowers. There’s also red, orange, pink, or purple. Your skin is so pale, I’m sure any color would look good on you.”

Elsie gazed at Rishe in wonder. “Oh.” Tears welled in her eyes.

“Elsie? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Rishe panicked a little. Did she have a cut that Rishe had missed? It wouldn’t be good for the liquid to seep in.

Elsie shook her head. “No, it’s just…” She blinked away her tears, stemming the drip of the pearl-like droplets. “I’ve never worn something so pretty before.” She couldn’t seem to hold herself back. “My siblings always came first. Whatever money we got a hold of was spent on essentials.” Her quiet voice was strangled down to a whisper. “I’ve never had anything to dress my hair, and my clothes have always been worn hand-me-downs from the boys. This maid’s uniform is the first thing I’ve had that’s mine.”

Rishe remembered just how upset Elsie had been over her dress getting stained at their first meeting.

“I was overjoyed to officially receive this uniform when you took me into your employ. I never thought I’d actually be allowed something so beautiful of my own.”

Elsie wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. “I’m happy, my lady. I promise. I don’t even know how to tell you how happy.”

“Oh, Elsie.” Rishe gently patted the girl’s head.

“I’m so happy!” Elsie sobbed louder.

Right then, Rishe understood what it meant that all her maids were working for their families’ sakes. No doubt they were like Elsie, pushing aside their dreams and aspirations.

Thanks to the insights from my current life, I now know what this business deal with Aria has been lacking.

***