IWJACM Chapter 7

Rezet took a moment to consider.

His reason, cold and unchanged, examined this disturbance with methodical calm. Emotions stirred for a reason. They always did.

He had seen this woman for the first time three years ago. Even now, after no small passage of time, she remained lodged in his memory like a splinter. Why?

"......"

The answer came soon enough—or what passed for one. He had seen this woman during the most hellish period of his life. What moved in him now was likely nothing more than the wistfulness of encountering that time unexpectedly again.

It would be a lie to say he had felt no desire for a woman like a jewel he could never hope to hold in his lifetime.

He had been somewhat more lowly then than he was now, and in compensation, he had all but worshipped those who shone as high as the sun. Like a crow that gathered everything that glittered, indifferent to what lay at the center of the shine.

'It seems that habit has yet to leave me.'

Rezet wrapped one arm around the woman's slender waist. With careful hands, he lifted her so that her injured shoulder would not press against him, and drew her into his arms. Still holding her, he settled onto the bed.

Her sweat-dampened body pressed softly against his through the thin barrier of cloth. He ran her disordered silver hair between his index finger and thumb, slowly. The sensation was dangerously addictive.

He was doing something appalling—holding the Princess of Argan in his arms and climbing into bed with her—yet, having found sufficient reason for it, his guilt remained thin.

The woman made a faint moan and clung to him. The warmth of his body, hotter than hers, seemed to be welcome. Her legs tangled with his; from chest to hip, their bodies fit together without gap.

Rezet's brow furrowed slightly.

He had thought her so fragile she might crumble at a touch—only slenderness. But the curves that met him through cloth, the sensation of soft skin separated from him by a single thin layer, were more plainly vivid than necessary.

She had been sweating a great deal, yet from the princess rose the scent of wildflowers. As though even he who held her was buried in full-bloom living blossoms.

"Your Grace..."

He had been drawing his fingers slowly through that hair, which scattered light even in darkness—and Rezet stilled at the small whispering voice.

"You are someone I simply cannot figure out..."

"Did I wake you?"

A flicker of surprise passed through Rezet's eyes.

She had not been asleep?

The woman leaning against his chest shook her head.

When he moved to pull away immediately, she held him. Eyes still unable to open, the princess labored for breath.

"When we arrive at the capital. Your Grace."

"Yes."

"Please don't be too... displeased..."

She murmured something further, but the sound faded before it reached him. Rezet drew her slightly apart and lowered his ear to the corner of her lips.

Faint, labored breath grazed his earlobe.

"Please think of it as a last desperate struggle."

"I don't understand what you mean."

"You may think me a mad woman..."

"Please think of my worth. Just once."

Those were the princess's final words before silence took her.

Time moved quickly. Elise's cold ran another two full weeks before it finally broke.

"We can delay no further."

The moment she had barely recovered, the Grand Duke announced, with remarkable composure, that her day of execution would be brought forward.

What could she say to that? Elise had no choice but to nod.

"You'll need to ride on horseback from today. Is that acceptable?"

Until now, their travel had been accomplished by prisoner transport wagon. But with time growing short, the means of travel shifted from cart to horse.

'Should I insist on the wagon?'

But this man who had stayed by her side all this while would have already noted that her condition had improved enough for riding. He was asking because he knew.

Elise submitted without recourse.

"Which horse am I to ride?"

"Which horse?"

The Grand Duke, who had been stroking his warhorse's mane, turned to look at her. A rare flicker of puzzlement surfaced in those blue eyes.

"Forgive me."

Rezet strode toward her. His build was powerful enough to flatten someone like her with ease, and Elise found herself shrinking back involuntarily.

Then a firm arm reached her and took hold of her waist. A gesture she had grown accustomed to over the past month.

The man who had once sought permission before so much as grazing her body with a fingertip had, at some point, become this unhesitating.

It was not an unwelcome change. He still stepped away cleanly once the necessary contact was complete—that had not changed. But even so, this was something.

"Hold tight."

"Hold? Hold what—"

Before she could finish, he lifted her in a single motion.

Elise gasped. The sudden suspension made her instinctively wrap her arms around his neck and cling.

But the contact ended quickly, as it always did. In an instant, Elise found herself seated in the saddle.

A mild dizziness rose with the elevated vantage. His warhorse was far larger and heavier than the horses she had ridden in the imperial palace.

"Thank... you."

But she could manage mounting a horse herself.

Elise was thinking this when she reached for the hanging reins—and felt the horse's back shift.

She startled and turned. The solid chest encased in light armor that met her eyes belonged to the Grand Duke. He had mounted behind her.

"Face forward, Your Highness."

Did this man think her too fragile to ride alone? Not that he was entirely wrong—the most she could manage at a stretch was perhaps half a shigan. But still.

Before she could recover from the unexpected turn, a wide palm closed over the back of the hand that held the reins.

"Allow me. I'll take care of this."

"......"

It was a lean, roughened, heat-carrying hand.

She must have given this man rather the wrong habits.

Elise thought this as she waited patiently on horseback for him to help her dismount.

Surely he didn't think her a woman who couldn't even walk properly on her own?

"Wrap your arms around my neck."

There could be no other reason for him to instruct her one step at a time like this... She wasn't quite in that sorry a state.

But Elise did not trouble herself to demonstrate the perfectly adequate strength of her two legs. She yielded docilely into his arms and felt her feet touch ground almost at once.

"We'll make camp here tonight. I'll arrange a place for you to rest—please wait a moment."

"I'm fine resting anywhere."

"If you sit somewhere cold and develop a fever again, it will delay our journey."

And yet every time he produced these blunt, cold pronouncements, whatever slight expectation had quietly surfaced would melt away like snow.

The Grand Duke wrapped his cloak around her, settled her on a flat rock, and only then began issuing instructions to his knights.

"......"

Elise turned his cloak between her fingers and felt the soldiers' glances slide over her.

She had been raised never to flinch from the eyes of subjects or soldiers, and she returned their gazes without particular feeling—at which the men abruptly looked away en masse.

Not one. Several, simultaneously.

She frowned, puzzled, but not one among those many soldiers would meet her eyes again.

'Strange...'

Was she a particularly sorry sight? Elise touched her own hollowed cheek.

Well—how gaunt might she look? She had been ill for weeks on end.

As it happened, the Grand Duke was unusually long away from her side. He seemed to have more to instruct his subordinates than usual that day.

Elise heard the faint sound of water somewhere in the distance and rose from her seat.

She had barely turned, beginning to move toward the forest interior where the sound seemed to come from, when a sharp voice arrested her.

"Your Highness."

Elise startled and turned back. The Grand Duke, who had caught the sound of her movement with uncanny precision, was approaching quickly.

"Where are you going?"

The sheer difference in height and build pressed down on her shoulders like a weight.

Elise gripped his cloak, keeping it from sliding off, and murmured quietly.

"I thought there might be a lake in the forest... I wondered if I might be able to wash."

The man's blue eyes narrowed slightly—reading eyes, eyes trying to determine her intent.

Well. No guard would stand by and ignore a prisoner making a sudden unilateral move.

"I'll accompany you."

"Pardon?"

But she hadn't expected this particular response.

Elise blinked, bewildered.

"You're saying you'll accompany me while I bathe?"

"Yes."

The Grand Duke answered so entirely without expression that the shock was not Elise's alone. She watched Ruben—the Grand Duke's own knight—drop his jaw as though it might come loose.

And he was not alone. Every eye turned in their direction carried meaning.

Elise came to her senses quickly. This was an opportunity. A chance to appear more intimate with Rezet Kyrstan.

'Not bad.'

Having as many eyes as possible witness the two of them departing alone would serve her well. And had Rezet not been the one to reach for her first, this time? For the very first time?

She made up her mind at once and nodded.

"All right. I don't mind if you accompany me."

The faces of the knights, who had been watching in held breath, filled with shock that made their earlier expressions look tame.