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When his father demanded that he find a hostage bride while he traveled, Arnold had bowed to accept the order, and once out of view had simply scoffed. It was a ridiculous demand, that he should marry some noble lady to maintain control of other countries. He had watched his father do such a thing countless times, with each marriage ending poorly. No, he would be nothing like his father, and that meant he would not marry.
In any case, there was no need for Arnold to marry anyone to control other countries. He was capable of such a thing on his own.
Nevertheless, though Arnold did not intend to find a bride, it was necessary to keep up appearances: and so he was forced to attend some random party in their southern neighbour of Hermity, ultimately a random and miniscule country, at his father’s demand. It was some sort of engagement party, as he had heard, meaning it was nothing of interest.
He had stalled outside the palace halls as long as possible without having to enter the party, using a nonexistent appreciation for the architecture as an excuse, but a look outside told Arnold that he had stalled long enough. If he evaded the festivities any longer it would be taken as some sort of slight between their nations. Though he didn’t truly care about trivial matters, he figured it was best to get it over with so he could make his exit all that faster.
The central ballroom was not far. Nearby, there was the soft tap of heels on carpet, approaching at a rapid pace. Arnold rounded a corner, not bothering to hurry, and so did not expect the sudden force that barreled into him. There was a shout, the rustle of footsteps, and his apparent assailant recoiled in a motion graceful enough to give Arnold pause. “Sorry…” she mumbled, taking another step back, leaving space between them.
“You barreled right into me,” Arnold chose to say, testing the waters. When he looked down, he saw that it appeared to be a simple noble girl, now clutching at her nose a few steps away. “For a moment, I thought I’d been attacked by a wild boar.”
There was no response, barely even a twitch. A little curious, Arnold pressed further. “What are you even doing here?” At that, she lowered her hand, gaze flicking up to meet his. “The party is in the—”
He wasn’t granted the right to finish his sentence. Her eyes widened in bright panic, and she cut him off, voice echoing off the walls in alarmed terror as she exclaimed, “EMPEROR ARNOLD HEIN?!”
On instinct, Arnold grasped his sword’s hilt, expecting some sort of attack or ambush with the way her body seemed to instinctively square. It was as if she was preparing for a battle. The panic had vanished, leaving tension with no hatred: caution with no fear. Eyes like hers were the most dangerous, he found. Arnold was surprised that he had even been recognized. He’d never been to this kingdom before, and knew with absolute certainty that they had never before met. He’d certainly have remembered eyes like those.
“You know me?” Arnold inquired, watching her closely for any tell. “This is my first time in Hermity.”
There were children’s puzzles formed from wooden blocks, meant to be assembled and disassembled into various shapes. As her face lit up in a brilliant smile, every bit of animosity vanishing, he thought of those delicate pieces. Arnold watched the way her shoulders forcefully relaxed; the way she seemed to resign herself as she dipped down into the most perfect curtsy he had ever witnessed. Back straight, leg bent at a precise angle, skirts lifting without so much as a rustle.
“My name is Rishe Irmgard Weitzner. We’ve never been introduced, but I’ve heard of you.” The girl—Rishe—greeted. He knew of only one way to gain such perfect footwork. It was a ridiculous idea; from what he knew of this region, women were not allowed to fight. So he pushed further, attempting to put together the peculiar puzzle that was supposed to be a simple noble girl.
Arnold couldn’t help the smile that crept up his lips, amused by this girl despite the circumstance of their meeting. He pressed further, now feeling a need to learn more about her. “You plant your weight like a trained swordsman. Your center of gravity is perfect.”
Instead of any flustered or bashful response he had seen many other women give to his attendant for such praise, he was pleasantly surprised with the way she easily played it off. She seemed to be completely unfazed by any verbal ploy he used on her. So, he switched tactics.
“I must have misheard, but I swear you called me ‘emperor’ just now.” Arnold watched as the young woman stiffened, giving him an awkward smile. He had finally caught her, it seemed. “My father yet lives. I am simply a crown prince. Why would you call me that?”
Her smile didn’t change, but her gaze listed towards the right. Then, gracefully, she bowed low at the waist and dipped her head, a sign of submission. Her hair, loose of adornments, which were instead held in her left hand, tumbled over her shoulders. “My humblest apologies, Your Highness. There is no excuse for my rudeness,” she stated serenely before popping up a second later with a face of cheerful determination, “However, I am in a terrible hurry! My former fiance ended our betrothal so I have no time to spare. Goodbye!“
Noblewomen didn’t tend to act or speak so freely. In another situation, it might have taken him aback. It was hardly the most surprising thing about Rishe, however, and so Arnold could only take it in stride as she ran past him without a backward glance.
“Ended your betrothal…” he whispered under his breath. This party was specifically for her and the prince of this nation then: but that made little sense. What could she have done for him to do such a thing? And in any case, why was she so cheerful?
Arnold turned to watch as the girl threw open the windows and pulled herself up onto the edge of the balcony. Even more bewildering was when she removed her shoes, bouncing lightly at the balls of her feet as if to gain some momentum. Was she about to…?
”Hey!” He yelled, but it was too late: she had already jumped, skirts flaring. He ran to the end of the balcony, afraid of what he was about to see. He knew that the balcony was too low for her to actually kill herself, but he could only imagine the injuries she would sustain from it.
A closer look, though, told him that the worry would not be necessary. She’d tucked her legs up and, to Arnold’s shock, she hit the ground in a perfect roll, compact and efficient. He wouldn’t consider it to be novice either, no, that was the kind of action that took many years of training and plenty of experience to master. But where she had gotten said experience was the question.
Arnold watched her lithe form perk up, uncaring of the tears on her dress and leaves that stuck to her hair. Instead, she worked efficiently, breaking the heels off her shoes before putting them back on and running deeper into the gardens without hesitation. She vanished soon enough, rounding the palace gates and sprinting out towards waiting carriages.
He rose: he had not even registered leaning over the rail. When he took a breath, he realized that his heart was racing, and that he had begun to smile. A soft, genuine laugh escaped his lips for the first time. Arnold didn’t know if he had ever felt this shocked, this… awed by anyone in his life.
Rishe Irmgard Weitzner. The name repeated in his mind. Arnold rarely considered a name pleasant, but now he was tempted to say it, just to know how it felt for himself. “I won’t let you get away,” he muttered to himself, eyes gleaming at the prospect of meeting this anomaly of a woman once more.
“Your Highness,” his attendant—Oliver—called out, announcing his presence.
“Ready my horse,” Arnold commanded, ignoring Oliver’s shock and questions as he walked past him.
He was going to find that strange girl, and if she proved herself, perhaps he would even entertain his father’s demand. There was a wonderful irony, he felt, to marrying someone whose middle name was Irmgard: The Protector. If he was demanded to marry, then it would be for his own gain. Perhaps she could become an ally to him. If not, she would make an amusing distraction that would certainly keep the courts prying eyes away from him and his plans.
Either way, it was a worthy gamble.