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Chapter : 8
When Frisia turned around with a startled expression, Harts was standing there. As always, he was dressed neatly in his uniform. He stood at a slight slant, looking tired, rubbing his neck as he moved.
“Uh? What happened?”
“What do you mean.”
“I thought you went with Ron…”
“I came back halfway.”
“……”
Harts’s sudden appearance caught her off guard. She had thought he wouldn’t return until late at night, so seeing him standing right in front of her made her heart pound unexpectedly. Frisia stared at him with wide eyes.
“…?”
Harts also stopped moving and stared straight back at her. Unaware—or perhaps aware—Frisia was looking at him with a faintly flushed face.
Does she want something?
After thinking for a moment, Harts tilted his head.
“What’s with that expression?”
“What expression?”
At Frisia’s prim and aloof tone, one of Harts’s eyebrows twitched.
With her cheeks dyed apricot-red, she dares answer like that?
Suddenly, he felt like teasing her.
I want to fluster her.
Harts strode toward Frisia, bent at the waist, and brought his face close to hers, staring straight into her eyes. So close their lips almost touched. His hair brushed against her forehead.
“You’re not trying to seduce me, are you?”
His gaze calmly traced the line of her hair, nose, lips, shoulders… then rose again to meet her eyes.
“Or were you hoping to see me?”
Harts smiled—brightly, with the gentlest smile in the world.
“No way!”
Frisia stepped back quickly and turned around.
“Ugh.”
A short, low grunt slipped out.
Huh? When she turned back again, Harts was covering his face with his palm.
“Did you really have to hit my face with your hair…”
His expression, scrunched up from being struck by her long, flying hair, clearly said it stung. It hurt, but more than that, he looked quite flustered. Seeing such an innocent reaction for the first time made Frisia laugh without meaning to.
“Pfft.”
“…You’re laughing?”
“Well, who told you to get so close?”
“It’s because you were making that kind of face.”
“What kind of face was I making?”
“……”
She really has no idea about herself.
Instead of answering, Harts swept his hair back with his large, elegant fingers. Frisia avoided his gaze and started walking through the garden again. Harts followed, soon falling into step beside her.
“What were you doing?”
“Thinking about life.”
“What kind of thoughts.”
“About why I can’t leave this house.”
“…?”
Frisia stopped and looked at Harts.
“What on earth did you say to the gatekeeper?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why won’t he open the gate?”
“The gate? Oh, ah…”
Only then did Harts seem to understand. He gave a small nod.
“Where were you trying to go?”
“Into town.”
“No.”
“I want to go out.”
“You can’t.”
“I said I want to go.”
Frisia kept voicing her complaints. As the conversation grew sharper, the warmth Harts had shown earlier cooled into something icy.
“You’re saying you want to go into town alone, without Ron?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Then I’ll sneak out in the middle of the night.”
“Don’t be stubborn.”
“Stubborn?”
“……”
“Open the gate.”
Frisia clenched her dress tightly with both hands. Her lips pressed together.
Talking like this made her feel wronged. Why did she have to ask permission for something as simple as going out? Was it just because he was her fiancé? Why was he trying to protect her so much? She couldn’t understand it—no, she didn’t want to understand. There was no reason. Her own father had abandoned her, and after leaving the imperial palace, why did she have to live trapped like this? There was no reason she couldn’t live freely. And yet… why?
At Frisia’s words, tinged as if she might cry, Harts said nothing. He simply stared at her, as though deep in thought.
“I get how you feel.”
Harts let out a short sigh.
“But you still can’t go alone.”
“Haaah…”
Frisia sighed too. So it really wasn’t going to work.
“Then go with me.”
“…What?”
“Wait in the lobby. I’ll get ready and come out.”
Harts went back into the mansion, leaving Frisia standing there alone.
Really? He’ll go with me? After acting like it was absolutely impossible just moments ago—really?
“Pfft.”
Whatever. She burst out laughing. An outing! Finally, she’d get to properly see the world outside the palace.
Frisia paced the lobby with an excited heart. After a while, the servants brought a carriage pulled by two black horses to the front. It was a luxurious teal carriage trimmed with gold. Soon, Harts appeared, fully prepared with a sword at his side, and a servant opened the carriage door.
“Come here.”
Harts held out his hand. She lightly placed her hand in his and climbed into the carriage. Harts followed, and once the servant closed the door, the horses began to move.
Clatter, clatter. The carriage rolled forward slowly.
Creeeak. Thump. At the mansion gate, the gatekeeper naturally bowed to Harts and opened the gate.
That gatekeeper! Opening it so easily…
Frisia glared at him through the small carriage window and clenched her fist at him. When he flinched in surprise, she felt oddly satisfied. Once outside the gate, the carriage picked up speed.
“Where do you want to go?”
“Where I want to go?”
“Yeah. Anywhere in mind?”
Frisia pointed toward the mountains.
“As long as we don’t cross those mountains.”
Harts followed the direction of her finger with his eyes.
“Assuming we don’t cross them, anywhere else?”
“I’d be fine just looking around town.”
“Just the streets?”
“Yes.”
Frisia answered with a bright smile. Harts snorted as if amused.
“That’s modest.”
Modest for you, maybe. I’ve never even had something that modest. Being unable to go anywhere, living trapped inside the palace—how could you understand that?
The carriage sped along, and before long, Frisia’s mouth fell open as she gazed out the window. Neatly brick-laid roads, houses with tidy brown roofs made of wood and stone, colorful flowers in every window, rose vines wrapping around the buildings—everything was perfect.
A street bathed in warm sunlight, overflowing with green. It looked like something straight out of a fantasy game.
“It’s amazing…”
She hadn’t known the city was this beautiful. As they passed through a district of mansions, a wide river appeared, spanned by a graceful white arched bridge. The water shimmered emerald as it flowed.
“It’s so pretty…”
Seeing Frisia practically glued to the window, as if enchanted, Harts stopped the carriage. He suddenly opened the door and stepped outside.
“Get down.”
“Huh?”
“What are you so startled for?”
“Is it okay to get out?”
“Oh, were you planning to just look from inside the carriage? If you don’t want to—”
Seeing her confusion, Harts started to close the door.
“No, no! I’ll get out!”
She had assumed she’d only be allowed to look from inside.
Frisia quickly grabbed his arm. When she stepped down from the carriage, a gentle river breeze greeted her. It was refreshing—the first river breeze she’d felt since leaving the palace.
The river flowed on the left, and tall trees with lush green leaves stood in a line on the right. Harts and Frisia began walking along the riverside path.
Everything was great, except for one thing.
“Why are you wearing a sword?”
“I always carry one outside.”
“Isn’t it heavy?”
“Not really.”
Judging by the clinking metal sound it made, it seemed quite heavy. She couldn’t understand why he insisted on carrying a sword in such a peaceful place.
Oh well. Frisia shook her head lightly and kept walking.
“What do you like?”
“Pardon?”
“…Hah.”
Harts let out a tired sigh.
“What’s wrong?”
“Why do you and your knight always make me repeat myself?”
“Oh, sorry.”
You keep saying unexpected things, that’s why.
“I asked what you like.”
“Um…”
“Oh, and not jewelry. I already know you like jewelry.”
…That’s not true at all. I don’t like jewelry one bit.
But Harts seemed firmly convinced she was obsessed with gems.
What did I like again? Since coming here, did I have anything I liked? Back home, I liked riding bicycles, watching dramas, watching movies… but none of those existed here. If anything did exist—
“I like books.”
I don’t read them much, but I like them, so it counts.
“What are you good at?”
“Are you interrogating me now?”
“I’m just asking.”
“Cooking. I’m good at cooking.”
Which was a lie. In reality, I can barely fry an egg or make instant ramen. But Ron had eaten my pork belly so enthusiastically—let’s call that cooking.
“Cooking?”
“Yes.”
“You’re saying a princess went into the kitchen?”
“……”
Well, not really. I’ve never actually been in a kitchen. Looks like a continuity error there.
Feeling a twinge of guilt, Frisia looked away.
“I don’t understand.”
Harts looked at her with a puzzled expression. As they continued walking, a wide lawn opened up ahead. Many people were sitting there enjoying picnics. As soon as they arrived, countless eyes turned toward them.
“…What is this?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“They’re not all people you know, are they?”
“I don’t know them, but they probably know me.”
“Must be nice to be famous.”
At Frisia’s sarcastic remark, Harts lifted one corner of his mouth in his usual arrogant grin.
“Not as much as you.”
You never lose, do you!
Frisia puffed out her lips, then quickly composed herself. The whispers and stares made her uncomfortable. Hearing the word “Rotherin” drift by, she found it hard to lift her head and hurriedly turned away. As she walked back, practically blocking out the sounds, Harts spoke again.
“Is there anything you want to do?”
“No.”
Why does he keep asking so many questions?
She closed her eyes and waved her hands dismissively, then suddenly stopped, struck by a thought.
“There is. Something I want.”
“Say it.”
“Let me go out freely.”
She spoke with sparkling eyes and an excited voice. But Harts turned his head away.
“That’s not possible.”
“Then don’t ask!”
“Not right now. Other than that, I’ll grant you anything.”
What else could I want? Even if I have nowhere to go, isn’t locking me up at home obsession? Is this man obsessed? Why won’t he let me go out?
Frisia started walking faster. After only a few steps, she stopped again and turned back toward Harts.
“Then let’s go to a party.”
“A party?”
“Yes. Peach’s exhibition in a few days.”
“Oh, that.”
Harts nodded indifferently.
“I got an invitation. I want to go.”
“No.”
Harts stood there with his arms crossed, leaning crookedly. How could he be so irritating? She really wanted to hit him.
“What? You said you’d grant anything!”
“That doesn’t count. I hate unnecessary gatherings like that—”
She was seriously considering pretending to trip and smacking the back of his head when Harts trailed off and hesitated.
“No. Cancel that.”
“…?”
“We’ll go.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
How can someone’s mind change back and forth in thirty seconds? But whatever! She could go to the party now.
“Thank you, Harts.”
Frisia smiled brightly at him.
They returned to the carriage and headed home. As they passed a bakery with the smell of bread drifting through the sunset-lit street—
“Stop. For a moment.”
Harts suddenly halted the carriage and got down.
“Wait here. Don’t come out.”
“I won’t. Afraid I’ll run away?”
“No… just wait a moment.”
He went somewhere, then returned a few minutes later. Climbing back into the carriage, he placed several brown paper bags on the seat across from her.
“What did you buy?”
“Chocolate powder.”
“Chocolate…?”
Frisia stared at him in surprise.
“Why chocolate all of a sudden?”
“You can’t drink black tea.”
Harts answered curtly and closed his eyes, looking tired.
