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

Leaving the rest in Elsie’s hands and asking Tally to return tomorrow, Rishe changed into another dress before stepping outside.
With a bright smile, she brushed past the head lady-in-waiting’s protests and took Harriet’s hand, leading the bewildered girl right where she had intended.
“Eeehh…”

That place was—on horseback.
Seated in the saddle, Rishe held the reins while embracing Harriet from behind, guiding the horse at a slow walk up a grassy hill.
Harriet, seated sideways, clung to the pommel with both hands, her frail voice repeating—

“I—I’m riding… I’m riding a horse…”
“I hear that in the Western Continent, women do not ride horses, is that right?”
Perched atop the gently plodding horse, Rishe spoke brightly.

“I had wanted to bring you to the top of the hill, but it rained this morning. A carriage might get stuck in the mud, so with the slope ahead, I chose a horse instead.”
“T-to think that on this continent, women even ride double… with another woman!?”
“No! Even here, women rarely take the reins themselves.”
She said it firmly, still smiling. Harriet’s lips opened and closed soundlessly.

“Normally a man rides in front, and a woman sits sideways like you are now. Riding in a dress is troublesome otherwise.”
“B-but then… how can you do something like this so easily, Lady Rishe!?”
Her ears flushed red as she asked.
Her hands never left the pommel, yet surprisingly, her body was steady, her back straight, eyes darting curiously at the scenery.

(…Is Lady Harriet… excited?)
Realizing that, Rishe smiled.
“The dress I’m wearing now has a slit, so I can mount astride.”

She let go of the reins with one hand and lifted the soft skirt.
“And I’ve layered plenty underneath, so even if it parts, it won’t be indecent. No need to worry.”
“Wow…”

“L–Lady Rishe, Princess Harriet!!”
The head lady-in-waiting, following on foot behind them, pressed her hand to her brow.
“I wondered whether to ignore such impropriety for diplomacy’s sake, but this is too much! Even now, it is not too late! Young ladies, this is far too unseemly! I will have a carriage prepared at once—please dismount immediately!”

Harriet flinched. Rishe glanced back to see the princess’s maids all sharing the same disapproving look, and even the women knights acting as guards seemed doubtful.
“…”
Rishe looked again at the crown of Harriet’s head before her.
From the rear saddle she could see only the girl’s whorl of hair, bowed now in apparent disappointment.

“Lady Harriet.”
“Y-yes!”
Rishe leaned down and took one of Harriet’s hands from the pommel, guiding it around her own waist. Then she whispered against her reddened ear—
“Hold tight. I’m going to run.”

“Eh—”
She tightened her grip on the reins, matching the horse’s breathing, and urged it forward in a burst of speed.
“Eeeekkkkk!”

Sensing Harriet’s clutch around Rishe, the well-trained horse charged eagerly up the slope.
“Princess Harriet! Lady Rishe!”
“I’m sorry, Madam Head Maid! You can scold me later—please, only me!”

Their escort’s cries quickly faded. Harriet, who at first had shrunk into herself, slowly raised her face to look ahead.
“A-amazing… we’ve come this far already…”
What had seemed a distant cape was now right before them.

Rishe laughed in the brisk wind.
“There was a horseback scene in The Adventures of Cradiate, wasn’t there?”
“Y-yes! The day before Gene set out…”

“The illustration was so beautiful, I couldn’t stop staring at it. To print such fine lines is only possible thanks to [N O V E L I G H T] Sigwell’s bookmaking.”
Praised, Harriet’s cheeks colored as she glanced back.
“They’re all so far behind…”

The cape was rimmed with a small grove, offering cool shade. There Rishe halted the horse, dismounted first, then helped Harriet down. After stroking the horse’s head, she tied it to a branch.
“The sea breeze is cool, isn’t it?”
“….”

Harriet gazed, entranced, at the view.
From the grove atop the cape, the coastal town below gleamed in the sunlight. White seabirds wheeled above the deep blue ocean.
“…Lady Rishe, you seem like someone who can go anywhere.”
Holding back her wind-tossed hair, Rishe looked at her.

“To be like you… what a dream that would be…”
Then Harriet’s eyes widened, and she shook her head violently.
“I-I-I-I’m sorry!! Someone like me—how dare I say such a thing!”

“…You mustn’t become me, Lady Harriet.”
“Eh…?”
Rishe gave a wry smile.

“The places I long to go are not the same as what ‘anywhere’ would mean for you.”
“T-that is…”
“So where is it you would like to go?”

Harriet caught her breath as though she’d heard something inconceivable.
Rishe, gazing down at the sea, went on—
“For instance, where I want to go now is somewhere beautiful.”

“Beautiful…?”
“Fields of sunflowers stretching to the horizon. Forests carpeted with crimson leaves. Shores where shards of drift ice gleam like jewels in the morning sun…”
She narrowed her eyes, recalling past travels.

“I want to show such things to a certain someone.”
What face would Arnold make, seeing such sights?
Perhaps he would be intrigued—or perhaps declare them meaningless. Then they would journey again, seeking more beautiful things together.

Someday, such a journey would be wonderful.
“My wish and yours are surely different, Lady Harriet.”
“I…I…”

“Won’t you tell me? Not what anyone else expects—but who you want to be, and what you dream of.”
“….”
In a voice like one dreaming, Harriet murmured—

“…Who I want to be…”
Her lips pressed tight. She fidgeted with her fingers, then, with sudden resolve, blurted—
“I—I must…! Um! I’ll… I’ll return to my maids!!”

“Ah!”
And off she bolted.
Rishe did not chase. The women knights had already climbed halfway up the hill, and save for one unusual presence, there was no sign of intruders. She would be safe, so long as she didn’t trip.

Still, Rishe watched anxiously—until a voice drifted from the trees nearby.
“You really are beautiful, the more I see you.”
“….”

Rishe sighed.
The voice above carried laughter, unhidden, amused by her reaction.
“That fluffy coral-pink hair, those big emerald eyes—adorable. No wonder that fiancé of yours glares daggers at me.”

“…Compliments you don’t mean only make me uncomfortable. Stop it.”
Once, he had been like a bad friend to her in another life. Even if he didn’t know, for her, it felt only wrong.
“I expected you’d approach more discreetly.”

She looked straight up into the branches.
There was no “Prince Curtis” there.
Clad in a black robe, crouched on a limb with his chin propped on his knee—

Hair a burnt brown, roots grown out in their natural orange.
Narrow red eyes, sharp and assessing.
It was unmistakably Raul, the hunter she knew.
“And yet, you’re not surprised at all. I was looking forward to hearing you scream.”

“…How distasteful.”
She said dryly. Raul, perversely delighted, smirked wide.