The Villainess Enjoys a Carefree Married Life in a Former Enemy Country in Her Seventh Loop

“Would it be better if I arranged for you to have some new maidservants at your side?”
It was a question so unexpected that Rishe could only blink.
When she did, Arnold continued.

“When the candidates for your maidservants were being gathered, Oliver advised me. Rather than choosing young girls from the commoner class, it would be better for your sake to select older ones of noble birth.”
(Oh, that’s right…)
Rishe’s maidservants—Elsie and the others—were ones she had personally approved.
But she’d heard that they had been assembled in the first place by Arnold’s instructions.

“Your Highness Arnold, why did you call those girls to the castle?”
Arnold, gazing toward the ceiling, slowly closed his eyes.
“…I thought you might end up isolated in that castle.”

“Isolated?”
Rishe blinked again, and his calm voice continued.
“Ordinarily, a crown princess should be attended by ladies-in-waiting of proper lineage. But if I arranged for the wrong noble daughters, they might look down on you, a fiancée from a small country.”
From Galkhein’s perspective, Rishe’s homeland was extremely small.
And she had come here nominally as little better than a hostage bride. At the very first evening party, many noble ladies had treated her with open hostility. So Arnold was probably right.

“In that case, it was safer to gather attendants without power. Fortunately, in the imperial castle there was precedent of hiring daughters of ruined houses as maidservants. There was already a record that commoners worked diligently, so it wasn’t a difficult arrangement.”
(…That must have been Diana and the others. Thanks to their efforts, Elsie and the rest were able to be summoned as candidates.)
She thought she would thank Diana properly once she returned to the castle, even as she kept listening to Arnold.

“I also thought that you wouldn’t care about the status of the people around you. So I gathered ones of close age, inexperienced but easy for you to be comfortable with. But…”
Arnold opened his eyes again, quietly, and looked once more at Rishe.
“It seems such people become, in your eyes, ones you feel you must protect.”

“Ugh…”
He must be referring to how she had put on a brave face before the maidservants, pretending not to be afraid of ghosts. The memory made her squirm and knit her brows slightly.
“So that’s why you ask whether I should increase the number of maidservants?”

“That’s right. At the very least, I should have provided a few who were older than you.”
His words carried a shade of apology.
Clutching the unused pillow of the two on the bed, Rishe answered.
“Even if my maidservants had included an older lady, Your Highness would still have ended up sleeping in this room.”

“…Why?”
“Because…”
She buried her mouth into the pillow she hugged and mumbled.

“…There’s no way I could let anyone but Your Highness Arnold see me like this…”
“—…”
He looked startled, and Rishe hurriedly sat up.

“Ah! But that doesn’t mean I don’t trust anyone else! The maidservants, the knights, even Lord Oliver, they’re all so dependable. Prince Theodor also lends a hand! But, it’s just that…”
She trailed off, flopping face-down into the sea of the bed.
“…The only one I ever feel like asking this sort of thing from, somehow, is you, Your Highness Arnold…”
“….”

She couldn’t explain why she felt that way.
Rishe knew that if she ever asked for help, anyone would reach out to her. But whether she had the courage to show that side of herself was another matter. Earlier, when Arnold returned, she had found herself hoping he would listen to her fear.
“…Maybe. Maybe it’s because Your Highness Arnold’s sword is stronger than anyone else’s in this world…”

“Pft—hah.”
He laughed as though it amused him.
“Perhaps I should have focused on training the swordsmanship of the knights I assigned you, rather than searching for additional maidservants.”

“N-now that you put it like that, it feels like sword strength has nothing to do with it!!”
Yet even as she protested, something struck Rishe.
“…Was assigning those knights to me truly for my protection?”

Her escort was always two knights, rotating among six.
They had originally been Arnold’s personal guards, surely with duties of their own before she arrived. And lately, there were talks of lending knights to the nation of Koyol.
She had heard there were only about fifty guards in total—quite few for the crown prince of a great empire.
There should have been no surplus of manpower, yet Rishe’s escorts were never reduced. That had puzzled her.
Arnold gave her a teasing look.

“What, did you really think I set them on you to watch your every move?”
“…Yes. And yet, despite how often I slip past their eyes, I’ve never once been scolded for it…”
Ordinarily, no one would bother assigning exclusive knights to someone just living inside the castle.
So Rishe had assumed they were there not to protect her, but to report her every action to Arnold.

But now she realized that wasn’t it.
After all, just before, Arnold had said, I thought you might end up isolated in that castle. And his brother Theodor had told her as well, Within the castle, many are enemies of my elder brother.
“Your Highness Arnold. You needn’t go to such trouble on my account…”
“I know you can defend yourself.”

Taking in her words, Arnold said—
“That’s exactly why I do it: to show everyone else that I would even assign my own guards to protect you.”
“….”

His tone was quiet.
Yet the words were firm, and beneath them Rishe could feel the weight of truth—that castle was enemy ground for Arnold.
“By the way, I hear you ordered the knights to strengthen security.”

“!”
He had changed the subject without warning, and she stiffened.
“‘Stringing threads in the hallways, with bells tied to them’—was that it? If an intruder trips them, the bells ring. For someone so frightened, you acted rather calmly.”

“Uuugh…”
Arnold was right—she hadn’t just sat and trembled.
Strictly speaking, she had trembled while asking the knights to help her. Rationally, it was highly likely that what the maids had seen was a living human.
But still.

“J-just don’t tell me the results, please!”
“…You don’t want to know?”
“Because if no °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° bell rings despite all the traps, then it makes the ghost theory more likely…!!”

Arnold narrowed his eyes, watching her with puzzlement.
“And yet, if you got a report when it was a person, that wouldn’t be so bad.”
“But until that report came, I’d still be spending all that time thinking it might be a ghost…”

Which was why it was better if she believed she would never hear any results either way.
(And if the ‘person’ the girls saw wasn’t a ghost or a normal human, then the bells wouldn’t ring regardless…)
Though Arnold still looked doubtful, at last he sighed softly.

“Very well. If something happens, I’ll deal with it myself.”
(…Even though Your Highness Arnold doesn’t believe in ghosts.)
That much was obvious from his every word and action.

(And yet he doesn’t dismiss my fear, but listens properly.)
How reassuring that was.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“….”
“I wish… I wish I could be of some help to you, even a little…”
She said it, recalling Harriet’s words.

If I cannot be of use to the country, then not only my life, but my very birth has no meaning.
But Arnold’s reply was gentle, kind.
“It doesn’t matter. Before the moon slips behind the clouds and darkens the night, go to sleep.”

“…Yes.”
“You’re not afraid of the waves, are you?”
“Not with you here, Your Highness…”

As she answered, drowsiness swept over her.
(The Arnold Hein here beside me is nothing like the future emperor he will become. …And Lady Harriet too, now…)
Her thoughts dissolved slowly, and she drifted into sleep.

 
****
The next day, after dressing, Rishe and Arnold once more prepared to meet Curtis.

After breakfast, escorted by Arnold, she entered the guest chamber where “Curtis” rose from his chair to greet them.
“Good morning. Despite my late arrival last night, thank you for the courteous reception.”
“Arriving safely is all that matters. Though this castle is small, we’ll ensure you lack for nothing until your departure.”

“Your consideration humbles me. I am deeply grateful for Your Highness Arnold’s thoughtfulness.”
His greeting was flawless. His short golden hair was slicked down with just a touch of pomade.
His straight posture, his calm bearing, even his slightly troubled smile—he was Curtis to the life.
Except the eye color could not be disguised.

(Lady Harriet must have noticed too…)
But when Rishe glanced over, Harriet, as always, kept her head bowed deeply.
“By the way, I hear I have caused terrible trouble for my future sister-in-law.”

Playing Curtis, Raul looked down at Rishe with a wry smile.
“I have brought a female knight from our country. From here on, her protection will suffice. Thank you for protecting my sister, Lady Rishe.”
“Not at all. I very much enjoyed being able to spend time with Lady Harriet.”

“Still, there is no denying that you bore a dangerous burden. I only hope nothing ill befell you.”
Oh, there had been danger—caused by none other than Raul himself.
And he knew that, feigning ignorance. Smiling brilliantly, Rishe replied—
“There were no problems whatsoever, Your Highness Curtis.”

“….”
An intrigued look came her way.
Though his expression was calm, the interest in it was clear. He was the image of the real Curtis, and Rishe felt a flicker of surprise.
“…But truly, I am impressed. That Lady Rishe, a duke’s daughter, should have knowledge of swordplay.”

“Hardly. I am still but a novice in training.”
“You are too modest. Might I honor you with a kneeling greeting?”
At that request, Rishe immediately thought of Raul’s aim.

A kneeling greeting meant the form of pressing a kiss—or at least the semblance of one—to the back of her hand.
Kyle had done the same recently, but that had been a custom of Koyol. In Sigwell, such greetings were not everyday practice.
(He wants to touch my hand and assess my sword calluses.)
Perhaps, like Leo before, he suspected a decoy crown princess.
To be honest, Rishe had no desire to give Raul more information. But as a “prince,” his request could not be refused by someone of her standing.

Rishe was about to nod when—
(Hyuh!)
An arm slipped around her waist, making her almost yelp from the ticklishness.
She clapped both hands over her mouth and looked up at Arnold beside her.

“…Your Highness Arnold.”
He had drawn her against him, his eyes cold.
With that expression still fixed, he looked straight at Raul and spoke.