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Arnold watched through one of the palace’s windows as an envoy of carriages pulled into the courtyard. The emperor had announced to his sons that he’d procured another hostage bride—nothing unusual there. What had been unusual were two things: she was not a princess, and she was only fifteen.
Theodore had thankfully managed to keep his face blank in the presence of their father, but the minute they were out of the emperor’s sight, he had shuddered.
“She’s my age! My age! How can he even think of-…how? How?!”
Arnold hadn’t bothered answering his brother. What could he have said? Instead he kept his own thoughts to himself and walked away from Theodore as coldly as ever.
Still, the fact that his father had chosen this one…well, “chose” was not quite the right word for it. From what Arnold had learned, this bride had been offered up to his father from some insignificant country. She had originally been the fiancée of that country’s crown prince, but “in pursuit of diplomatic relations,” the prince had graciously handed her over to Galkhein.
Or so his father believed.
Arnold’s informants had reported that the crown prince had found a woman he preferred to marry, and so wanted to end his lifelong engagement to the Duke’s daughter who had been his fiancée.
If his father found out the truth, he wondered how long she would live.
In any case, Arnold was curious to see what kind of horrid woman a crown prince would willingly hand over to the warmongering emperor of Galkhein.
Arms crossed as he leaned against the wall next to the window, Arnold watched the procession of carriages come to a stop. A few imperial knights moved to surround the carriage with the hostage.
Arnold’s brow furrowed. It was unusual to have this much security for one woman.
One knight moved to open the door and the others shifted, on guard. When the door opened and nothing happened, they seemed to relax a bit.
It was almost as if they had expected her to attack.
Instead, a delicate head of coral pink hair peeked out from the door, and then the woman slowly descended from the carriage. Her dress was fine enough, and her posture and demeanor were near perfect.
Her fettered wrists ruined the illusion.
They’d had to restrain her.
Arnold’s curiosity was piqued. Normally brides arrived in three ways: Starry-eyed, timid, or crying.
None had ever had their wrists bound.
As the knights surrounded her and began ushering her towards the palace, Arnold noticed the very slight limp she was attempting to hide. She kept her head high and back straight. Her expression was resolute.
She looked like someone maintaining their pride as they headed towards their own execution.
Exactly like the bride of Galkhein’s emperor should look.
Though he knew one could not base one’s opinions on first impressions—especially looks alone, and from a distance at that—Arnold couldn’t fathom what sort of heinous act she must have committed, or what sort of horrid personality she was managing to hide. She appeared like any other noblewoman of good standing, so sacrificing her to Galkhein made no sense.
He supposed time would tell.
******
Oddly enough, the time came sooner than he’d expected.
It was still early enough in the year that night fell shortly after the evening meal, so his father wouldn’t have yet had the time to visit his new bride. Arnold had been returning to his office when movement outside the window caught his eye.
It was coming from the tower where the emperor kept his hostage wives. More specifically, it was coming from the outer walls of the tower. Arnold stepped up to the glass to take a closer look.
He wasn’t imagining it. There was a thick rope with multiple large knots dangling from one of the high windows. Hanging from the rope and slowly moving downward, was a tiny person in a simple dress.
Arnold sighed, wondering if it would be worth the effort to confront the escapee. Since no one had tried before—at least not out the window as this one was doing—he decided he might as well satisfy his curiosity and figure out why she’d been offered as a hostage.
Dismissing his knights, Arnold made his way to the outer wall nearest the tower. Her descent had been slow, so he made it in enough time to watch her reach the end of her makeshift rope (bedsheets, he now realized) and wondered if she was regretting her decision as there were still a few meters between her and the ground. She was swinging lightly, face turned downwards, and then she swung herself a bit harder before letting go of the rope.
Arnold jerked forward on instinct as though to catch her, his eyes wide in surprise. He hadn’t thought she would purposefully fall the rest of the way, but she did, managing a slightly awkward roll with very little sound.
The small woman stood from the ground, shaking out her hair (now brown, Arnold realized) and brushing off her dress. She was still favoring one leg as she began moving forward, but she stopped in her tracks. Arnold wondered what had caught her attention just before her wide, green gaze turned to land directly on him.
Amused, Arnold stepped out from the shadows and watched her flounder for an explanation. He also noticed she had reached to her side as though to draw a sword, but had stopped when she remembered she was unarmed. That she would have drawn a sword on his father or the imperial knights if she’d had one spoke to both a great foolishness and admirable bravery.
Deciding she was at least mildly entertaining, Arnold spoke first.
“The emperor won’t be by this way for a few more hours, but the imperial knights will be along in a few minutes.” Arnold watched her gaze jump warily between him, the outer wall, and the possible routes of the knights. “I wonder how you had intended to escape before they came by.”
She frowned. “I could have been up and over that wall by now if you hadn’t scared me half to death.”
Arnold huffed out a laugh. “With your injury? Doubtful.”
Her frown deepened as she looked down, lifting up her skirt enough to show a tightly wrapped ankle.
“It’s just a broken ankle,” she muttered before dropping the skirt and looking back up at Arnold. “I could have ignored it long enough to get over the wall at least.”
Arnold had the brief thought to ask if the knights that brought her in had broken it, or if she had done it while attempting to escape. It didn’t matter, though, because in the end she was walking- no, jumping and climbing with a broken ankle. She was either an idiot or reckless. Likely both.
“I can tell what you’re thinking,” she said, her gaze and tone flat. “But I’m not stupid. I’ve been trained to ignore such pain. Believe me, dancing in high heels with a sprained or broken ankle is a lot more painful than this little bit of exercise. Now, if you are not here to stop me or return me to his Imperial Majesty, then please step aside.”
She certainly had nerve, that much was clear. Yet she still spoke with respect. It was a bit strange. He sighed and turned to head back into the palace.
“Once the knights see your makeshift rope, they’ll alert the emperor and spread out in search of you. There’s no way you can run or hide from all of them. Not outside these walls, anyway.”
“You don’t know that! I could-“
“However,” Arnold cut her off, turning to give her a sharp smirk. “If you hide within the palace, you may just stand a chance.”
“...‘Hidden in plain sight,’ you mean?” She sounded both impressed and unsure.
“If we don’t leave now, though, there won’t be time to get you into a maid’s uniform before they start the search.” Without waiting for her response, he began to walk away, keeping his pace slow.
It took a few seconds, but she finally hobbled to catch up to him. He led her to one of the staff doors near a kitchen, ushering her inside. Turning to the nearest maid, Arnold asked her to quickly bring a spare uniform. The frightened maid couldn’t do more than nod before running off.
When Arnold glanced back at the hostage bride, she was eying him strangely, as if attempting to figure out just who he was. He had removed his jacket earlier in his office, and the plain, white shirt he wore had nothing to signify his rank or importance. Instead of answering her unspoken question, he opened a door that led into a closet of cleaning supplies and gestured for her to enter.
“You should have enough room to change in here, but be quick about it.”
She swallowed nervously but then hardened her expression and gave a sharp nod. The maid returned with the uniform and Arnold took it, dismissing her. She practically ran away.
He turned back to the hostage and handed her the bundle of clothes. Seemingly out of habit, she gave a quick curtsey as she took the proffered items before closing the door.
Despite the circumstances, she remained polite. Such an odd woman. Or perhaps she was just well-trained. Either way, he had yet to really see a reason to discard her as her former fiancé had done.
A commotion in the halls alerted Arnold that the knights had noticed her escape. Soon his father would be notified.
The man was no fool. He would certainly demand the palace be searched just as well as the grounds and surrounding areas. Arnold hoped he wasn’t disappointed in the bride’s undercover performance as a maid.
When she stepped out, Arnold decided she may just be good enough to fool the emperor after all.
Her now-brown hair was tied up in a simple tail and mussed a bit. She had wrinkled up the uniform and tied the apron crooked to give the appearance of having been working all day. Without looking in Arnold’s direction, she hurried over to the fireplace and shoved her fingers into some of the loose ash on the hearth, rubbing it into her cuticles and under her nails. She then swiped at her cheek and forehead, brushing her hands off on the apron. Glancing around, she headed over to a bucket of water and quickly dunked her hands in it, drying them hastily on the apron and then wiping her face with the apron as well.
When she turned back towards Arnold, he was impressed by her again. She looked exactly like he’d seen several maids appear before—dirty from work but neatened up as best as they could. Arnold himself might not have recognized her if he hadn’t been there for the transformation.
Then, she changed again, right before his eyes. At first he couldn’t quite figure out what she’d done, but the more he looked, the more he got it. She had dropped the perfect posture of a court lady, bringing her shoulders forward and dropping one just a bit on one side. Her head was now slightly tilted downward, and her eyes were just a little wider, radiating nervousness and fear. Even her mouth was held differently, a bit tight and drawn instead of relaxed.
“Well?” she asked, her voice now timid and coming out with a bit of a squeak. “Will this do?”
Rather than admit that she could fool him and he’d seen her up close, he turned to leave.
“I assume you know how a maid would act. Blend in until the search in the palace is over. We’ll figure out our next move after that.”
“Right,” she answered in her normal voice. “Oh, I didn’t have a chance to say, but…thank you very much for your assistance.”
He hesitated at the doorway, then turned to level a cool glance at her.
“Don’t thank me just yet,” he said, wondering how she would interpret his words. There was still the possibility of her being found out, but she also had no idea who he was or what he was planning. She simply bowed, just as a maid would, and he left.
New maids were common in the palace, so none of the other maids and workers should think her out of place. The maid who’d brought the uniform was probably too afraid of Arnold to ever mention the odd errand to anyone. The imperial knights that brought her to the palace would be looking for a coral-haired noblewoman with exceptional mannerisms, not a dirty, brown-haired maid with poor posture.
If she was able to pull this off…Arnold smirked.
******
The emperor was in a foul mood and Arnold was trying hard to not let his amusement show. There had never been a single bride that had attempted an escape and managed to evade the knights for this long. Of course, none had ever gone out through a window. Nor had any attempted their escape before even meeting the emperor.
It was highly amusing.
Though the emperor wanted to immediately raze the bride’s country (Hermity, Arnold had been reminded during the emperor’s tirade) to the ground, his advisors pushed for finding the hostage bride first, then determining if punishment for the country was warranted—or if it should all just fall on the girl’s head.
As Arnold figured, the emperor wanted to sweep the palace just as well as the hostage’s likely escape route, calling for all palace staff to gather in the audience chamber immediately for inspection. Arnold’s eyes had actually passed over her twice before he spotted her in the crowd, but he made sure to keep his gaze moving after confirming she was there.
Imperial knights who had been part of the envoy bringing Rishe (he had also learned her name during the tirade) to the palace were systematically inspecting each staff member. They tugged on hair, lifted skirts (did they think she was hiding under someone’s uniform, or were they looking for wrapped ankles?), and glanced at hands. Rishe managed to look just as scared and uncomfortable as all the other maids. Her inspection was over even faster than some of the others’.
When the imperial knights finished their searches of both palace and staff, the workers were ordered away and the knights moved to expand the search outside the palace.
“Whether she is found or not, Hermity will pay the price for this insolence,” the emperor glowered. Arnold’s eyes cut over to the irate man. He had to choose his words carefully.
“If she is found, this escape attempt could be used to force Hermity into whatever agreements we demand. It is no longer enough that we have their hostage, since she is the one that has insulted us.”
“If the brat is found.”
“I have a request, in regard to that.”
******
When Arnold stalked back to the kitchen where Rishe had likely returned after the inspection, he found her on hands and knees, scrubbing the floor. For a moment he simply watched her work, but she had somehow noticed he was there and scrambled to stand.
“My apologies, Crown Prince.” She was still using her disguised voice, and had obviously figured out who he was now that he had donned his court jacket and had stood next to the emperor. Arnold wondered how she would have addressed him in her normal tone.
“Are you capable of styling a lady’s hair?”
Rishe blinked slowly, but her confusion lasted only a few seconds.
“Yes, your Highness.”
“Then let’s go.” He turned and walked away, trusting her to follow.
She hid her limp well as he led her to an underused wing of the palace. A small group of maids had gathered in front of one of the doors as ordered, each holding various articles they’d been sent to retrieve. As they walked up, he spoke to Rishe over his shoulder, loud enough so all the maids could hear.
“Grab whatever is necessary to outfit a noblewoman.” Arnold opened the door and stepped inside. “The rest of you can return to your chores.”
All the maids—including Rishe—were baffled, but scrambled to comply. A small pile was quickly amassed into Rishe’s arms and then the other maids bowed and scurried away.
“You can drop all that off in there,” Arnold said, gesturing to another door as Rishe shuffled inside. Closing the door behind her, he watched as she turned a wary gaze over to the smiling Oliver before nodding at his words and quickly moving to the indicated room.
When she came back out, she bowed just as a maid would, awaiting the next order.
“You can drop the act, as well. He already knows.”
She looked up, confused.
“I’m not sure what you mean, your Highness.” Her voice was still that of a maid.
Oliver laughed and took over from there.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Rishe. My name is Oliver Laurenz Friedheim, attendant of my Lord Arnold Hein. I understand your caution, but please know that this room has been thoroughly checked, and there is no one else here but the three of us.”
Arnold hid his amusement as Rishe glanced over at him as though making sure it wasn’t a trap. She must have decided it was safe as she straightened up, returning to her proper posture and mannerisms. Then, she dipped into a perfect curtsey and spoke in her normal voice.
“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Prince Arnold. Lord Oliver. I am Rishe Irmgard Weitzner.”
“My! I see now how you managed to evade the emperor’s knights. I’m most impressed, Lady Rishe.”
“I could not have done it without Prince Arnold’s help,” she demurred.
“I’m not sure my Lord is capable of teaching someone how to look and act like a maid,” Oliver said, amused. Arnold didn’t bother with a response. “In any case lady Rishe, has my Lord explained why you are here?”
Rishe blinked and glanced over at Arnold.
“He only asked if I could style a lady’s hair.”
“I see. But he did not say which lady you would be attending?” Oliver was trying not to laugh, and Rishe was becoming more and more confused.
“I would be glad for any information in that regard,” she said, looking back and forth between Arnold and Oliver.
“My Lord, if you would, please?”
Arnold sighed. Oliver was obviously having trouble keeping his amusement out of his voice.
“You’ll be styling my wife’s hair,” Arnold said to Rishe. Her face made a complicated expression, and though her eyes shot over to Oliver—who’d had to turn away and cover his mouth—she quickly looked back at Arnold and tilted her head.
“I was unaware that the Crown Prince of Galkhein had been married.”
“That’s unimportant,” he shrugged. “The point now is that you’ll need to get re-dressed before I can introduce you.” A suspicious choking sound came from Oliver that Arnold ignored, holding Rishe’s gaze. “Everything you put in that room is for your use now. We’ll wait out in the hall while you change.”
Rishe had opened her mouth as if to protest or ask further questions, but Arnold had already grabbed a shaking Oliver and dragged him to the door, closing it behind them with a quiet click.
“Really, my Lord,” Oliver said, still lightly chuckling and wiping his eyes. “You’re too cruel.”
“The sooner she finds that out, the better.” Arnold crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. Oliver took the time to compose himself, managing to get his laughter under control by the time the doors opened again.
Truthfully Arnold had thought it would take Rishe longer to get dressed, since a lady’s gown was more complicated than a simple uniform, and she had no maids to assist her. Yet as she stepped out, there was no sign that she’d had any difficulties.
Her hair was a little damp (back to its normal coral color; she must have washed out the dye), but she’d used the wet hair to her advantage in forming a simple yet elegant updo. The ends of her hair were already drying, curling up a bit at the edges, which only added to the overall look.
The dress was a spring green color and lacked much of the gaudy ornamentation of many noble ladies’ gowns, but was still obviously of high quality and fine workmanship.
Rishe once more looked like a Duke’s daughter, rather than a maid or palace escapee.
She was grasping some of the skirt fabric in her fingers.
“Are you certain this gown isn’t too fine to meet your-“
“Lady Rishe, you look lovely!” Oliver stepped up to her. “This color certainly compliments your hair as well.”
“Ah, thank you, but it’s not like I chose-“
“Shall we, my Lord?”
Rishe looked both vexed and confused at Oliver’s interruptions—his intent, Arnold was sure. Pushing away from the wall, Arnold began to walk.
“My Lord informed me your ankle was injured, Lady Rishe. Does it trouble you now to walk on it?”
“I will need to rest it soon, but I am still able to ignore it, for the most part.”
In other words, Arnold thought, she was in great pain but still able to hide it. He could just make out her limp from her footsteps.
“How did it become injured, if I may ask?”
Rishe was silent for a moment.
“I…may have attempted to run away a few too many times on the trip into Galkhein.”
That didn’t quite answer the question, but Oliver didn’t pry.
“I see. Well, perhaps you will soon be able to rest and allow it to heal.”
Rishe hummed. “Perhaps.”
“Lady Rishe?”
Her footsteps had stopped, and then Oliver’s, so Arnold also stopped to look back. Rishe was a step away from Oliver, eyes darting about the walls.
She had caught on faster than Arnold thought she would.
“Your Highness,” she began, but then paused. Her hands were clenched in fists in front of her skirts. It took a moment, but she finally looked up into his eyes. “Your Highness, if I may…I know I am in no place to ask for a favor, but if I could…if you could at least…” She closed her eyes and let out a huff of air, then took a deep breath and calmly looked back up at Arnold. Her gaze was cold. “Give me your word that you are not returning me to the Emperor.”
Arnold’s gaze narrowed, but where others would shy away at his look, Rishe met it with her own ferocity.
She probably realized she should have requested his guarantee much sooner. Still, she had been brave enough to ask now, in the middle of the palace halls.
Arnold had to hold back a smile.
Without breaking eye contact, he answered gravely, “I am not returning you to the emperor.”
Oliver managed to keep his face neutral this time. Rishe didn’t seem to want to believe him, though.
“I give you my word: you will not be given back to the emperor.”
Usually he wouldn’t repeat himself, but even with the redundancy she looked dubious. After a few more moments, her gaze finally fell away and she nodded, continuing forward. Oliver returned back in step with her and Arnold finished leading the way.
Despite his word, he noticed Rishe becoming more tense the further along they went. When they slowed in front of a large double-door with two imperial knights standing in front of it, she was forcing her breathing to sound normal.
The knights opened the doors and Arnold stepped through. Rishe hesitated only a moment before following.
“So, you found her.”
The emperor’s gaze was baleful, his eyes honing in on Rishe and narrowing the longer he looked. Arnold would have loved to see what expression Rishe was making, but it would give away his amusement. He wondered how she would handle this situation with no input from him.
“That you found her this quickly makes me wonder if you had a hand in hiding her.”
Arnold gave nothing away in his gaze, but before he could answer, Rishe stepped forward. She curtsied, just as smooth and flawless as before, then stood back up…only to drop into a bowing kneel. Had her skirts not hid her legs, she may have looked exactly like a knight kneeling before his lord. The effect was slightly lost in the puddle of fabric, but the intent was obvious, even before she placed her hand over her heart.
The emperor’s eyebrow rose.
“I have caused you great distress, your Majesty, and I fear my shameful actions have insulted you as well. I offer you my most humble and sincere apologies for the commotion I have caused.”
“‘Distress?’ ‘Commotion?!’”
Arnold was slightly unnerved by his father’s anger, but only because it was underlaid with confusion—an unusual combination from the already-unstable man.
“Yes, your Majesty. In my desire to sate my curiosity, I fell back into a most shameful habit of my childhood. I wished merely to explore the gardens. Instead, my unannounced disappearance caused a panic, wasting a great many valuable resources and everyone’s time in the effort to locate me.”
Had Arnold not been witness to the entirety of the evening, he may have been tempted to believe Rishe, her words sounded that sincere. Indeed, the emperor looked as though he couldn’t decide whether to behead Rishe or ask her if she were sane.
“You expect me to believe you were only ‘exploring the gardens’ when you left the tower by climbing out the window on a rope made of bedsheets?”
“Yes, your Majesty. That was the childhood habit I mentioned. My parents denied my requests to visit our own gardens, and so I developed the method which you saw employed this evening. I feared that asking permission or using the stairway—like the proper lady I was raised to be—would meet with the same denial I had become used to back home, and so I allowed my bad habits to take over my good judgement, and therefore caused you many problems.”
The emperor’s eyes narrowed. They all knew she would have been met with a locked door at the very least, and denial of such privileges for certain. Her story insinuated she never even bothered to check the door, and therefore didn’t know she wasn’t allowed to leave the room at all. It was certainly a clever cover, but Arnold wondered how much longer she could keep it up. His father would not let this go until she either convinced him she was just that stupid, or she faltered and he had reason to behead her.
“Just how did you expect to climb back up, then, when your makeshift rope was a few meters short of allowing you to reach it again?”
“Ah, that, I’m afraid, was a clumsy misjudgement on my part. My bedroom at my family’s manor was only on the second story, and so I was not used to calculating the length necessary to reach a longer distance. It was not until I had reached the end that I realized my mistake, but had not the strength with which to pull myself back up at that point. I was so tired from the difference in distance, in fact, that I’m embarrassed to admit that I…fell asleep.”
“Fell…asleep…”
Arnold almost wanted to laugh at the face his father was making. The entire story was so ridiculous that it was believable. She was still young enough that reckless actions would not be unexpected. She had been raised as a noblewoman, so the lack of strength and subsequent fatigue made sense. The only part her story didn’t explain was how the knights hadn’t found her once they began their search. “Falling asleep” explained not hearing the knights as they searched, but how would she explain not being seen?
“Yes, your majesty. I was quite soundly asleep when Prince Arnold woke me, and informed me of the trouble I had caused.”
Ah, she was foisting that part of the story onto him. His father’s eyes shot over to him, as if daring him to lie for her. Luckily, there was no need to lie.
“I found her next to the bushes, not but a few steps away from her ‘rope,’” Arnold said. Realizing the truth in Arnold’s gaze and words, the emperor’s eyes next shot over to his imperial knights. The knights were bowing their heads and making their apologies. They wouldn’t have done more than a cursory glance at the area, since the assumption was that she had run away. There was no way for them to prove she hadn’t been there all along.
When the emperor was done glaring at his knights for doing their jobs so poorly, he turned back to the still-kneeling Rishe with an almost disgusted look on his face.
“Get up.”
She struggled the tiniest bit, probably due to her ankle. When she fully stood, she kept her head bowed.
“You were brought here as my bride,” the emperor said, and Arnold could see Rishe tense. “But I have no need of a spoiled and reckless troublemaker. Instead, you will wed my son and heir, Crown Prince Arnold.” His father looked at him with a cold glare. “As we agreed, she’s your problem now.”
With that, the emperor and his knights left the room. Only Arnold, Rishe, and Oliver remained. Rishe had gone very still after the emperor’s last words. Arnold let an icy smile stretch across his face as Rishe’s head slowly turned to look at him. Her eyes were wide with disbelief.
“I told you not to thank me,” he said, voice low. “And I did not give you back to the emperor, just as I’d promised.”
“No, yes, but you- but this is-!”
“You would prefer to marry my father the emperor?” Arnold raised a brow. “Or be killed by him for your insolence?”
“No! No, that’s- but-!”
She had spoken so eloquently to the emperor but was now reduced to jumbled mutterings. He had to admit to himself that her fluster was quite entertaining. Nodding to Oliver, who then began to head back, Arnold stepped closer to Rishe.
“But, you said you had a wife!” she finally managed to squeak out.
“I said you would be styling my wife’s hair.”
“Yes!”
Arnold reached up and tugged lightly on one of her loose locks of coral.
“Well, didn’t you?”
Her eyes widened even more, her mouth falling open in shock. She couldn’t seem to formulate a response. Arnold’s smile softened, more teasing than mocking.
“I can at least promise not to lock you in a tower. You’re free to do as you please—within reason. Though I suppose the first thing is to take care of that ankle.”
“Wha- Your-! Your Highness!”
Arnold had reached down, hooking one arm beneath her knees and the other around her shoulders, lifting her up. Rishe’s face turned a rather bright shade of red.
“Your Highness, what are you doing?! Put me down!”
She flailed a bit, trying to loosen his hold, but only succeeded in making him pull her tighter to his chest.
“Stop squirming. It isn’t unusual for a husband to carry his wife, especially when she’s injured.”
“Wha-! But-! We’re not married yet!”
Arnold’s smile was victorious.
She had said “yet.”