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Chapter : 12
“Don’t leave Frisia’s side. Not even for a single moment.”
“Yes. Understood.”
“And make sure she’s dressed in clothes that won’t draw attention. Those are the conditions.”
“Yes.”
Hatz and Ron continued their conversation, but Frisia no longer heard any of it.
She could go to a festival! Just thinking about it made her feel happy. She had already been thrilled with that brief outing during the day—so a market held at night?!
Her heart felt like it was already pounding fast with anticipation.
“How about you come along as well, Young Duke?” Ron suggested.
Hatz pointed with his chin at the stacks of documents piled on his desk.
“As you can see, I’m busy.”
Frisia covered her mouth and carefully got up from her seat, heading for the stairs. She felt like she might burst out laughing. When she went down to the second floor, the maids were still there.
“We’ll wash you, Your Highness.”
“Okay!”
Normally, the maids’ attentions felt bothersome and burdensome, but today they felt light. While bathing, having her hair done, and changing into pajamas, the smile never left her lips. For the first time, she found herself liking Hatz.
She was happier than she’d ever been with any gift she’d received before.
“No.”
“Why?”
“There’s no way that’s okay, no matter how you look at it!”
“But I like this?”
“Haa…”
Ron and Frisia had been bickering for quite a while. In the end, sighing, Ron brought her in front of the mirror.
“You’re really planning to go out dressed like this?”
“Yeah.”
“I know you have unusual tastes, Your Highness, but this is not okay!”
“…….”
Ron was unusually firm today. He looked tired from trying to stop her, but Frisia didn’t care. Instead, with an elegant gesture, she swept her hair up from the nape of her neck and spun around in place.
Her hair fluttered in the light breeze, and the light brown skirt that reached just over her knees puffed up softly.
“What’s wrong with it? Doesn’t it suit me?”
“That’s a maid’s uniform!”
Indeed it was. Frisia was wearing a neat, comfortable light brown maid’s dress. She had borrowed it from a maid who had been hanging laundry.
“Ron, this is really comfortable. It feels like I’ve discovered the item of my life.”
“Item of your… what?”
“Anyway, I’m wearing this.”
“Sigh… where did you even get this…”
At Ron’s muttering, the maids standing near the door froze without moving a muscle. Frisia adjusted the buttons that reached up to her neck and straightened the small frills. The maid’s dress was a plain brown one-piece, except for the white ribbon at the collar and the apron.
But to Frisia, it was the best outfit possible. No corset, a perfect skirt length—everything was optimized for moving around. While she admired herself in the mirror with a satisfied expression, Ron beckoned one of the maids over.
“At least take off the apron.”
Seeing that Frisia didn’t look like she would give up, Ron made this small concession. But Frisia widened her eyes and cried out.
“No, Ron! The apron is the highlight of a maid’s outfit!”
Ron shot her a cold look.
“If you want to go out like that, you’d better at least remove the apron.”
“…Tch.”
Seeing Ron’s blazing eyes for the first time in a while, Frisia handed the apron over to the maid. Ron went out with another maid and came back holding a black cape with a hood.
“At least wear this. Commoners may not know your face, but there’s always a ‘just in case.’”
“Just in case what?”
“If someone figures out who you are, dressed like that they’ll just think you’ve been kicked out and are completely broke.”
And on the off chance that someone might target her again, she needed to be concealed as much as possible. That was probably why Young Duke Hatz had set those conditions.
“I don’t really care about that.”
“I do. I don’t want Your Highness’s image to be seen that way. Absolutely not.”
“Okay, okay.”
If she pushed any further, it felt like Ron might enlist ten maids to strip her forcibly. Better to compromise before he truly lost his temper.
Frisia put on the cape, hid even her pink hair under the large hood, and changed into low-heeled boots. And for today, instead of a carriage, she rode on horseback with Ron toward the night market. The time was already between late afternoon and early evening, with the sun slowly sinking.
Boom! Bang! Murmur, murmur.
The constant sounds of fireworks and people’s voices rang noisily in the air.
“Wow…”
Frisia froze on the spot.
“What’s wrong?” Ron asked after handing the reins to the groom.
“There are… so many people here. Ordinary people.”
It was different from the last brief outing with Hatz. Instead of nobles in glamorous dresses, there were truly ordinary people everywhere. A lump rose from deep in her chest. This place was nothing like the heavy air of the imperial palace. Lively flute sounds, dull drumbeats, and cheerful music echoed all around.
A tall man performing ball-throwing tricks, a boy playing a lute-like instrument, a kindly woman with a warm smile selling sweet butter-roasted peanuts, a man pouring drinks into horn cups, people handing freshly baked bread to children… there were so many people. Everyone was smiling brightly. It was truly a festival.
Suddenly, Frisia thought of her past days—spending most of her time inside the palace, staring at walls and gardens, quietly enduring a suffocating, doll-like life while wishing for the novel to end quickly.
Strangely enough, seeing the free 모습 of the people in the market made her feel alive. This was real. She forced herself to hold back the overwhelming emotion that threatened to bring tears to her eyes.
“Ron! Call me ‘Free’ here. Like you said, it’d be troublesome if my identity were discovered.”
Frisia suddenly grabbed Ron’s hand. She planned to run across the long market road lined with tents. But Ron gripped her hand tightly and didn’t move.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking of running here?”
“Yeah!”
“I’ll tell you in advance—you’ll get hurt. Don’t.”
“I still want to try it.”
“I know you’re happy, but please hold back.”
Frisia pouted and scrunched up her nose and brow as hard as she could. She just wanted to try it once. A scene you often see in movies—the heroine running hand in hand with the hero through a festival, almost like dancing through the crowd.
She’d only wanted to recreate a scene that suddenly came to mind, but Ron was so rational. Come to think of it, Ron and Hatz were alike in how naggy and interfering they were.
“Then let’s play a game.”
“Sure. What do you want to play?”
“Archery.”
“…There’s no such thing here.”
Ron’s grip tightened. Archery, of all things… his head filled with thoughts of how he had to stop her.
“I saw one over there.”
“No.”
Ron shook his head gravely. Just as expected. Frisia let go of his hand and ran straight to the archery booth.
Clack! She placed a gold coin on the stall.
“Mister, I’ll play this!”
“A gold coin?”
“I don’t need change.”
“Haha! Bold young lady! Alright, I’ll give you six arrows!”
The bearded man with a hearty laugh took the coin and placed a wooden bow and arrows on the counter. Ron, who had followed after her, tried to stop her urgently, but she was already holding the bow and striking an awkward pose.
“Hey! If you touch me now, I’ll get hurt.”
Threatened by Frisia, Ron hesitated, worried she might injure herself. Meanwhile, the man kindly pointed out the target.
“See it? Right there, there. Just aim for the red dot in the middle.”
“Don’t worry.”
Frisia winked with one eye, squinted with the other, and pulled the bowstring taut. The red dot…
Whoosh! She released her fingers, and the arrow flew. And the arrow…
“Huh?”
The man’s eyes widened, and the children nearby froze with their mouths agape, bread forgotten in their hands. She’d clearly aimed for the red dot—but the arrow was stuck in the tent canopy overhead.
Why? Didn’t arrows fly straight? Did it require some special technique? As she tilted her head in confusion, Ron took the bow from her hands.
“Free…”
“That’s weird.”
“For the sake of other people’s lives, please stop.”
“Then you do it.”
Frisia handed the arrows to Ron.
“Mister, there’s a prize if you hit the red dot, right?”
“H-huh? Yeah, there is. Here.”
“I want that!”
Ron looked at the prize Frisia was pointing at—a small wooden rabbit figurine.
With a resigned expression, Ron picked up the bow.
“Wait! Men have to step back ten more paces and hit it five times in a row.”
“What?! That’s unfair!”
“What do you mean unfair! You look like a trained knight—you should manage that.”
Unlike Frisia, who puffed up her cheeks in protest, Ron calmly stepped back ten paces. Without hesitation, he took his stance and drew the bowstring.
The arrows flew and struck, five shots in rapid succession. Every single one hit the red dot perfectly.
“Wooooo!!”
“Amazing!!”
Clap clap clap! Ron was showered with applause from the crowd that had gathered. Frisia could only stare in amazement. She’d been the one to have him trained at the palace, yet she hadn’t known he was this good with a bow.
She thought he was only good with swords and martial arts—but archery too? Ron was ridiculously talented.
“Here you go.”
“Thank you!”
While Ron was surrounded by people, Frisia grinned broadly as she accepted the rabbit figurine. It was a very cute wooden rabbit with shiny black eyes.
After that, she played many more games—apple bobbing, guessing words while covering her ears, downing a huge horn cup of drink in one go, shouting as loudly as possible, and more. After making a full round of the market, they reached the plaza in the center of the city.
Before they knew it, night had fallen, and fireflies filled the fountain with light. People were sitting around it, and Frisia sat down near the fountain with Ron.
The gypsies dancing beautifully among the fireflies looked like fairies. The dark space, the night sky sparkling like it was raining starlight, and the cool air—Frisia gazed at the scene with dazzled eyes.
“It’s so beautiful…”
Watching the fireflies sparkle and fly around like jewels made her feel as if she were dreaming.
“Your bangs are completely wet.”
“So what?”
Frisia looked up at Ron with a beaming smile. Though he must have been tired from chasing after her all evening, Ron smiled gently at her.
“Your Highness, you look truly happy.”
“Yeah. I had so much fun today.”
“Shall I tell you a secret?”
“A secret?”
Ron whispered into her ear.
“The Young Duke will be here soon.”
What? Hatz? But he said he was busy.
Frisia stared at Ron, but without another word, he simply turned his gaze back to the fireflies. Then—
Thump, thump, thump, thump. Drums sounded, and people began standing up one by one. The gypsies, who had been dancing slowly like ballet, sped up their movements to the rhythm. As the music quickened, crowds gathered around the fountain, laughter spreading as everyone began to dance enthusiastically.
Frisia jumped to her feet.
I can’t dance, but I can at least clap!
She tried to move to the outer edge so as not to disturb the dancing couples, when someone bumped her shoulder.
“Ah!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, miss!”
It didn’t seem intentional—the apologetic voice sounded rushed. But Frisia lost her balance and bumped her head into someone’s chest.
“Are you okay?”
That voice was…
“Hatz?”
