Chapter 11: Even if we aren't allies, we don't have to be enemies

Oliver moved into a deep, sweeping bow. "My sincerest apologies, my lady. I have been unaccountably rude to my lord's consort. My behavior was unacceptable."

Rishe shook her head. "Please don't, it's fine."

It wasn't unreasonable for the prince's closest attendant to be wary of strangers. But it did make her curious.

"How long have you worked for Arnold? Have you always been a valet?"

"I trained as a squire, actually," Oliver replied. "But I was injured and dismissed from the order. His Highness took me into his household soon after. I have served him for nearly a decade."

"Then maybe you can answer this," Rishe said. "Why is Prince Arnold so very intent on making me his wife?"

Oliver hesitated, as if weighing the pros and cons of speaking, "To be quite honest, I was as surprised as you were. He's always insisted he had no interest in marriage. But the sight of you in Hermity has changed his mind. Apparently."

So not even his attendant understood his motives. Rishe remained at a complete loss.

"If I may, however?" Oliver mistook Rishe's confusion for anxiety and added, "I have served Prince Arnold for a long time, and never before have I seen him so happy. When he is with you, he laughs. His smiles are sincere."

Rishe was taken aback. She'd figured all of Arnold's laughter and teasing was at her expense. His own private jokes.

"Are you…unhappy with him?" Oliver ventured. "With his looks, His Highness is exceedingly popular with the ladies of the court, you know."

"I'm sure he has many admirers." She paused. "Would you really call the way he acts around me 'happy'? To me, it seems more like a cat with a mouse."

Oliver laughed. He didn't deny it. "I am pleased you understand His Highness so well. Oh, I nearly forgot. Here."

He held out a sheaf of three documents. "This is the guest list for your wedding. His Highness bids you look over it."

"Thank you," Rishe said, pleasantly surprised. She hadn't even needed to ask.

She gave it a quick glance, quickly identifying the most prominent and powerful names.

King Zahad, Prince Kyle, Princess Harriet. And from the Kingdom of Domana, we have Lord Jonal attending as the representative of the king. No surprise there.

More than a wedding guest register, this was a list of key people from the countries Arnold would go on to antagonize. Even before the murder of the king and the start of the war, there must have been a trigger—a sea change in the affairs of state. Everyone on this list was most likely involved.

King Zahad. I hope we can be friends again like in my first life. Hmm… Prince Kyle is rather frail. I hope he isn't working himself too hard. He has a strong sense of responsibility—he'll attend the wedding even though it'll be a long trip.

The sight of these names filled Rishe with a longing for those lives, for the people she'd once known. And sometime in the very near future, they would all be Galkhein's enemies.

If I take matters into my own hands, perhaps I can salvage some of these relationships before they sour. Even if we aren't allies, we don't have to be enemies. Anything to stave off the outbreak of war.

Oliver had no idea what was going through Rishe's head. Brightly, he continued their conversation. "The ceremony will be held in three months' time. All preparations must be complete by then. And now…we need to discuss tonight's party."

"Tonight's what?"

Oliver stiffened. "Did His Highness not tell you?"

"No, he most certainly did not! There's to be a party?"

"Ugh, not again!" Oliver dug his knuckles into his forehead.

Rishe put two and two together. She hesitated, then said, "So there is one, then. As you must know, His Highness is trying to stamp it down without telling me."

"I'm sorry," Oliver replied. "He should have mentioned it to you. You don't need to attend, but he will. At least, I hope he will. I think I managed to convince him."

Rishe sympathized with Oliver. Under normal circumstances, it would be unheard of for the crown prince and his fiancée to fail to appear at a banquet.

"Don't worry, Oliver. I'll go."

Oliver let out a sigh of relief. "Really? Thank you so much, my lady. I'll put finding you a maid at the top of my to-do list."

"No need." Rishe smiled.

"I can prepare for the party on my own."

This maid-selection process made Rishe uneasy. After witnessing that exchange between the servants in the garden, she imagined quarrels breaking out all through the palace. And she doubted the disputes would go away even after they decided.

Oliver frowned. "But won't dressing be difficult without a lady's maid?"

She shook her head. "I can do my hair and put on a gown by myself. I brought dresses and cosmetics from home. Don't worry."

Rishe ignored Oliver's stunned look, already reevaluating her cleaning plans.

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