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“My Husband Arnold, come look!” Rishe called out from the crowd, excitement clear in her voice, “please come look at this!”
There was a large festival happening in the town square to celebrate the reign of Galkhein’s new Emperor and Empress. The ceremony was to take place on the couple's wedding anniversary in two days. Along with the normal festivities such as food, drink, music, and accessories, merchants from all over the world traveled to sell their wares in the streets to join in the celebrations of the land and foreign and sovereign dignitaries came to the empire to pay their respects before the coronation. And that was what had caught Rishe’s attention most of all.
Rishe was in the midst of fawning over a strange triangular device with objects pointing out on each side of the tool. Arnold gave a quick glance over the object, unsure of what made it so important. But if it made his wife happy, then Arnold didn’t have a word of complaint.
“What is it,” Arnold asked, brows furrowed slightly.
“It’s a sextant. It helps one navigate the seas by determining the angle between the horizon and celestial bodies such as the Sun, the Moon, or even the stars,” Rishe explained happily as she held the device up to her eye.
“I can buy it for you,” Arnold offered, but as always he was met with a stumbling denial.
A tired sigh escaped his lips. He should have made another bet with her that he knew he’d be able to win. Maybe that way he could get Rishe another gift without her constant refusal.
Arnold knew that it wasn’t her fault, from what he garnered the blame laid fully upon the kingdom she was born in and the people who claimed to have raised her. But still, he wished that she would simply accept the gifts he offered without the fear of a hidden quid pro quo.
Arnold continued to watch Rishe move from stand to stand, staying at her side and listening to her excited rambling with each item that caught her eye.
“Oh my! Do you smell that, Your Highness?” Rishe exclaimed as she all but vibrated in excitement. Arnold worried she’d somehow combust.
“Perhaps: there are a lot of scents in the air,” Arnold answered with a shrug.
“I’ll be right back, Your Highness; I’ll retrieve us some lunch.” Rishe proclaimed before promptly disappearing into the crowd. Surprised, Arnold tried to catch her wrist, but she was already gone.
“Tch.” That girl, Arnold lamented. He really should get a leash for her.
Resigning himself to navigate through the crowd to find his excitable wife, a small stand caught his eye. It was simple compared to the others around him, which were far more obnoxious.
“Why hello young man, would you like to view our wares?” An older woman asked, giving him a soft, wrinkled smile.
Arnold didn’t respond, choosing to silently study the merchandise. It was a stall of small trinkets: mostly antiques ranging from clips, earrings, broaches, mini vials of perfumes, and so on. Nothing immediately stood out, and Arnold was about to turn away when something in the display’s corner caught his eye. Two small, ornamental golden butterfly hair clips with miniature blue gems embedded at the tips atop both the wings.
Arnold hesitated. He didn’t want to force Rishe to own, let alone wear, anything that she didn’t like. It was always why he asked if she wanted him to buy something for her first; yet she always refused.
He recalled a certain moment: that day when she had demanded he put the ring he had gifted her on her finger. Details came back in pieces: the vibrant gleam in her eyes, the lingering scent of flowers on her hair when she’d leaned down, her fiery vow that she would always wear and cherish it. He had figured that she would tire of wearing the ring soon after and give up on her vow, but he should have known better. Even after all these years, she still wore that ring everywhere she went.
“Those clips are one of a kind,” the elderly woman informed him, breaking Arnold from his thoughts. “They had belonged to a noble lady before she passed away who had them specially crafted from Coyelles. Her daughter said she had no use for such simple trinkets as the sapphires were duds, and sold them to me.”
“And what of the edging, is it real gold?” Arnold inquired, picking up one of the clips and inspecting it like he had seen Rishe do on multiple occasions.
“Yes, the frame of the butterfly is real gold,” the woman said proudly.
“Hm. What’s your price?” Arnold asked, carefully setting the clip back into its cushioned box.
“30 gold pieces.”
Had Rishe been close by, he might have bargained, but the spark of her presence was drifting further and further away. Arnold shrugged, handing the merchant the amount asked, figuring it was a fair enough price—just as long as he didn’t tell Rishe the actual price if she asked.
“Who are they for?” The woman asked, a sly smile on her lips as she took the box off the stand.
“My wife,” Arnold stated, unsure of why that mattered.
“Would you like it wrapped?”
“No, just the box will do.”
“Very well,” the woman nodded, simply tying it with a small bow of red silk. “It was a pleasure doing business with you,” the woman smiled, waving him off.
“Likewise.” Arnold nodded before turning away without another word, tucking the small box into his pocket.
Now to find my elusive wife, Arnold thought to himself, holding back a sigh.
It didn’t take long, and in the end Rishe found Arnold first. She emerged from between two stalls and beamed when their eyes met, prancing up to him with a hop in her every step.
“My Husband, try this,” Rishe cheered, shoving a stick covered in meat and vegetables that were dripping with a strange sauce into his hands.
“What is it?” Arnold questioned, brow scrunching in distaste, pinching the stick carefully between two fingers. It seemed messy.
“The vendor says that they're called ‘Kabobs’, they’re said to be a very popular food in Halil Rasha. I’ve only tried the sauce on it once many years ago, but I remember that it was one of the most delicious things I’ve ever tasted! Won’t you try it?” Rishe asked, tilting her head slightly—the picture of innocence.
“You can try mine first if you’d like,” Rishe added, lifting her stick towards his lips.
Arnold didn’t have the ability to deny his wife, allowing himself to take a small bite of the offered cuisine. He had admit, something from Zahad’s country was actually good—not that he’d ever admit that to that man’s face.
“It’s good,” Arnold admitted with a slight nod. Rishe’s smile at his words was so bright that he couldn’t stop himself from giving a small one of his own. How she was always so happy and able to view the world with such wonder, he would never understand.
It was obvious to Arnold that Rishe hadn’t lived an easy life, and while he hadn’t pried, he often wondered if she lived a life similar to his own. There were only so many ways one could know the proper way to detain someone, and be able to talk about it with such conviction and foresight: it was highly unlikely she hadn’t experienced it first hand. The look in her eyes when she set herself in her resolve, stone-cold and unyielding: it was a look he had only seen in the eyes of battle hardened veterans. Chillingly enough, it was the same set and hollowness he often saw in himself.
“Should we keep looking around?” Arnold asked, knowing that his wife had a hard time standing still—especially in a market—for too long.
“Yes! We can eat these as we walk,” Rishe nodded, moving forward through the crowd waiting for Arnold to follow.
_________
The day of the coronation swiftly arrived. Arnold sat in a chair near the lit fireplace as he waited for his wife to exit their room. He had been sent away so that the maids would be able to “make Her Majesty look absolutely majestic—more lovely than she’s ever looked before—with no distractions!” How he was considered a “distraction” Arnold was unsure, but he accepted it without complaint, trusting the maids with their work. They had never let Rishe down before, and he doubted they’d do so now.
Arnold fiddled with one of the clips, watching how the fire would catch on the facets of the glass gem. He hadn’t yet given her the clips, and still wondered when the right time to bring it up would be.
The quiet echo of Rishe’s door opening was the only warning Arnold received as he tucked the clip back into his suit coat pocket, stood, and walked calmly towards the staircase with Oliver looking absolutely gleeful behind him.
When Arnold looked up he couldn’t help the way his breath caught in his throat.
Rishe slowly descended the stairs with three maids trailing behind carrying the edges of the dramatically long train of her navy blue dress. The gold detailing covering the gown glittered in the light, highlighted by the darkness of the skirts, making the ensemble feel delicate despite the thick layers of her skirts. In its center was Galkhein’s crest, the eagle striking to the eye perched atop the two swords that stood in sharp relief to the falling petals that framed the design. It gave no room for doubt of where her loyalties might lie.
An embarrassed smile crept up Rishe’s lips as she tilted her head slightly, the jeweled ornaments decorating her hair catching in the light as the loose curls that framed her face fell so perfectly across her cheeks, Arnold wondered if it had all been scripted.
As Rishe neared the last few steps—skirts flowing around her feet, her normally gentle features sharpened by the use of cosmetics, the gentle tinkling of jewels that covered her from head to toe accentuated her every step—Arnold held out his hand; a strange sort of joy sparked in his heart when she gracefully took it.
“Hello, Your Majesty,” Rishe greeted with a teasing curtsy, her action stiff through the tightness of the blue and black bodice.
“And that title will soon be yours as well.” Arnold nodded, eyes softening the longer he looked upon his wife dressed fully in the colors and symbols of Galkhein.
“Yes, we should leave before we’re late. I apologize if I caused us to be behind schedule.”
“You are the empress, you can never be late.”
Rishe’s brow furrowed slightly, disbelief clear on her features. “I do not believe that’s how time works, Your Majesty.”
Arnold simply shrugged, pulling her slightly closer. Calmly, he smoothly removed the clips from his pocket before running a hand through her hair. While the loose curls looked lovely, he knew that they would get in her line of sight if she were to fight. And while he had no intentions of being forced into any form of swordplay, he knew Rishe would not be fully at ease with this. As she was distracted by his touch, gaze focused solely on his eyes, Arnold placed the clips in her hair: carefully pinning the curls to the side.
Arnold smirked down at his wife, noticing the slight flush of her cheeks that hadn’t come from the cosmetics that colored them.
“Shall we be off then?” Arnold asked, ignoring the glances he received both from Oliver and the maids.
“Of course!” Rishe exclaimed, her emerald eyes returning to their sharp vigil.
Arnold let out an amused huff before turning and walking out the villa doors with his wife in hand to the cathedral where they would be officially crowned the Emperor and Empress of the land.
_________
Rishe all but collapsed in their bed when they returned home, her train pooling over the floor in a veritable sea of shimmery fabric. Her chest rose and fell in short pants, restricted by the corseted bodice of her dress.
“That was more exhausting than our wedding,” Rishe sighed, the strain clear in her voice.
“Is that so?” Arnold asked, side-stepping the overflowing lake that was her train as he moved to sit beside her on their bed.
“I don’t understand how you can continue to do paperwork after such an event.”
Arnold shrugged. Most of the paperwork he brought with him merely needed to be glanced over. Rishe let out another breath, closing her eyes, then pushed herself semi-upright with a sigh.
“If you need to rest, you should do so,” Arnold murmured, tracing his knuckles down the curve of her cheek.
“I can’t properly rest in this,” Rishe objected.
“I could help with that.” Arnold offered, with a mischievous smirk. He touched the soft fabric of her sleeve, and drifted up to her shoulder.
Rishe’s face flushed bright red, quickly swatting his hand away as she sat up fully in the same fluid motion. The heavy fabric of her skirts rustled and slid, showing a few inches of her legs.
“Knowing you, you’d just end up tearing it. And after the seamstresses worked so hard on it, I couldn’t bear such a travesty happening to this dress,” Rishe replied haughtily, well used to her husband’s jests after four years of marriage.
Arnold let out a huff of laughter. “Should I call your handmaid then?”
“Yes.”
Arnold stood from the bed, leaning over his wife so that he could place a tender kiss atop her brow before circling around the hazard that was her dress to get to the door.
Elsie awaited outside the door with a patient smile as she waited to be summoned. Arnold gave the girl a soft nod as he left for his office. There was always more work to do, even after a day like this. He was certainly caught up, but he preferred to remain ahead if possible.
Time seemed to pass at a languid pace. He was only pulled from his focus when he heard a gentle knock at his door, and by then it had passed from mid to late evening with stars peaking past the clouds.
“Enter.”
“Your Majesty,” Rishe greeted with a warm smile.
She was dressed in her nightgown, hair carefully unbraided, drifting freely around her shoulders. All traces of makeup had been removed, and though her feet were bare she moved as gracefully as a cat on the prowl. Arnold couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed upon noticing the clips he had gifted her missing. He wondered if she thought them part of the ensemble the maids had prepared for her.
“Rishe,” Arnold nodded.
Rishe glided across the room, moving to stand beside him rather than in front of his desk. Her hands were held close to her heart, one fisted around something he was unable to see.
“What do you have?”
“Well,” Rishe began shyly, “I just wanted to ask you about these…” she mumbled, extending her arms and opening her palms to reveal the small clips.
“Ah. You don’t have to keep them if they are not up to your standard.”
“No!” Rishe objected swiftly, “I think they’re beautiful! I just-...I was just curious what you were thinking when you bought these for me?”
Arnold glanced down at her left hand where the ring still rested. “They matched your ring.”
Rishe’s face brightened into a large grin as she stared at the clips in her hands. “And why butterflies?”
“I can’t reveal all of my reasonings,” Arnold smirked, casually crossing his leg and leaning against his right fist.
Rishe chuckled softly, already half-expecting his cryptic answer. “Thank you. I find it interesting to know why His Majesty would gift me something out of the blue, even though I have refused so many others.”
“.....”
“Just knowing that you thought of something so sweet just to match the ring you gifted me makes me so happy. I’ll treasure it forever.” She held the clips close to her heart once more, a content smile resting across her gentle features. “Please don't buy me too many things!” She quickly added.
Arnold couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips at that. “Ah, but we can’t let our wealth stagnate.”
“You can spend it on other things.”
“None of which will bring me such joy as I feel now.” Arnold stood from his desk, approaching his wife before gathering her in his arms. Shocked, Rishe quickly returned the hug, rising to her tiptoes to lean against his shoulder.
“Happy anniversary,” Rishe whispered in the silence that had enveloped them.
Arnold placed a chaste kiss atop the crown of Rishe’s head. “The most joyous day of my life,” he murmured, his warm breath tickling the tip of her ear. He couldn’t help but notice the scent of flowers that wafted off her skin.
A light flush colored Rishe’s cheeks, but she didn’t mind. Wrapped in her love’s arms, Rishe couldn’t think of a better way to end the day no matter the chaotic events surrounding it.
“You looked striking today,” Arnold murmured.
“I could barely breathe for most of it,” Rishe chuckled softly.
“I’m surprised you could walk all that fabric trailing behind you.”
“Yes, well the designer and seamstress explained thoroughly how it would represent not only Galkhein’s, but my own power and status in the world as well.”
“Then they succeeded. No one in their right mind would doubt you now.”
Rishe giggled softly at his words, the joyous sound echoing in Arnold’s ears.
Not for the first time since he had met Rishe did Arnold come to the realization that he was the most fortunate man in the world.