Sure enough, the woman couldn’t continue speaking right away. She stared at the ground, chewing her lips, then muttered quietly.

“I don’t know exactly where, but he said it’s in Rothe. The Count told me.”

“Rothe is vast territory, and there’s more than one monastery.”

“I’ll get a carriage and search around.”

“You can barely speak the language. How will you get a carriage?”

“I can say a few necessary words. And I have jewels. Buying someone to drive a carriage, at least that much—”

“You’d be lucky if they only took your jewels. Can you protect yourself?”

When he pressed her relentlessly, grinding her down, the princess lost her words again. She must know full well how absurd her plan was. 

Sure enough, she looked at him with resentful eyes, then suddenly started dropping tears. More and more. Reingart truly had nothing to say.

“I… I worked so hard to escape…”

The sobbing princess covered her face with both hands. Reingart let her continue crying. He found it curious how those tiny hands could cover her entire face. 

Eventually he waited until those hands wiped away the moisture flowing down her cheeks, until her tear-filled eyes looked up at him again.

“Please… can’t you just let me go?”

“I cannot.”

“You could just pretend you didn’t see me. This doesn’t concern you anyway—”

“Even if I let you go, you’ll be caught before the day ends. When the Count discovers you’re missing, he’ll send out men, and no matter how diligently you walk on those legs, you can’t outrun cavalry and hunting dogs. Getting caught and dragged back is only a matter of time.”

He stated the obvious facts dryly, waiting for the woman to change her mind. 

What if she kept being stubborn? Would it be acceptable to drag her back by force? 

Reingart’s eyes swept over her arm, which looked smaller than a handful, then he quickly dismissed the thought.

Though she was a war prisoner and spoils of war, officially she was the Countess. As a knight, he couldn’t lay hands on his lord’s wife so carelessly.

When that thought struck him, irritation suddenly surged, and Reingart looked down at the woman with furrowed brows. His gaze went to her lips again, which she was chewing until they turned red. 

Was that a habit? The moment he sighed inwardly, words flowed from those lips.

“Then… kill me now.”

Pale blue eyes looked at him. It was their fourth time making eye contact.

“Can you do it swiftly?”

“……”

“You can kill people, right? You’re a knight.”

Speaking rather firmly, the princess glanced at the sword strapped to his back. Watching that obvious gaze, Reingart tried to figure out what was in this woman’s head. 

If he wouldn’t let her go, kill her now?

This princess of a fallen kingdom apparently hadn’t even considered that he could simply hoist her up like luggage and drag her back to the castle. Did she still think of herself as a princess? That he wouldn’t dare lay hands on her?

Ridiculous. When she’d picked up a maid’s clothes and run away.

“I can kill you, but I can’t promise it won’t hurt.”

When he replied coldly, the woman flinched. For some reason, Reingart wanted to make that face contort even more.

“Even healthy men scream in agony when they die. Even when you cut off the head, the breath doesn’t stop immediately, so they suffer in pain with their neck half-severed. If I had an axe, I could cut through the neckbone in one blow, but as you can see, the only weapon I have right now is a sword—”

“Stop, stop it.”

The princess squeezed her eyes shut and hunched her shoulders. She seemed to be imagining how it would feel to have her neck half-severed. So she didn’t want to die painfully either. 

Sneering silently, he let his gaze rest on the woman’s white, slender neck. With a neck like that, he could probably cut it in one stroke, but what Reingart needed to present to his lord was an intact wife, not her head.

So he decided to end this pointless argument.

“I’ll keep quiet about meeting you here. So don’t worry and go back.”

Of course it was a lie. He would report the full details of this incident to the Count. Since he couldn’t protect his son, bringing back his wife would make a pretty decent gift for his return after a year. 

So Reingart needed to coax this woman—the Countess of Rothe—and take her back to the castle.

“…How can I trust you?”

Looking down at her suspicious face, he didn’t answer. Silently turning his gaze, he bent down and picked up the bonnet that had fallen on the road, brushed off the dust, then held it out to her. He waited patiently until the hesitating woman took it. 

Hoping she would believe his lie.

The conversation broke off and silence flowed. Reingart held the reins, waiting for her to move first. 

The princess stared down at the bonnet in her hands, then finally put it on her head with what seemed like resignation. She really had no other choice. Except to blame the misfortune of running into him.

Reingart watched as the woman slowly concealed herself inside the bonnet. Watched as she tucked her long, curling, abundant blonde hair into the white cloth. 

Even after meticulously hiding the last remaining strand, the woman didn’t move easily. Reingart couldn’t read the expression on that hidden face.

“I’ll trust you. Your promise to keep it secret.”

Even when the small voice flowed out, he didn’t respond. Perhaps that was why the woman had covered her face first. Because she knew his words were lies. To hide that she was pretending to be fooled while knowing the truth.

The woman soon turned and started walking toward the castle. Reingart followed behind her, holding the reins. 

Following proper etiquette for a lady, he fell back two steps, then closed the distance to walk alongside her. Since she was wearing a maid’s clothes now, it was right to make her look like a maid.

Walking side by side like that, he took a deep breath.

On the road toward the castle, there were still only the two of them. The midday sunlight was still dazzling. Pointed cypresses and fig trees. 

Pomegranate flowers like flames. Reingart kept his gaze on them as he walked silently forward.

“What’s your name?”

When the woman who’d been walking silently asked, he paused briefly before answering shortly.

“Reingart.”

Reingart. 

The woman murmured, seemingly etching it into her mouth. The awkward pronunciation grated on his ears, but he said nothing. 

It was better to refrain from conversation with a prisoner. If you loosened the bonds out of unnecessary sympathy, you’d face trouble.

“I’m Annette.”

He knew. The only princess of Kingsburg. King Delmas’s one and only daughter. The woman who’d been most noble across the entire continent.

Annette.

Since he didn’t respond, the conversation broke off again. Reingart walked steadily with his mouth closed along the dry dirt road. 

With each step he took with shortened strides, light footsteps followed behind—tap, tap. Thud, thud. 

Listening to that sound, he breathed in the gradually warming early summer air.

It was June. His favorite month.

***

Right up until passing through the castle gate, Annette schemed about escaping. 

Should she grab a handful of dirt and throw it in his face? If she ran with the resolve to die after that, could she shake him off?

She pictured it endlessly in her head, but each scenario was nothing but foolish imagination. The man walking beside her was at least a head taller than her and had a sturdy build.

Whatever Annette did, even if wings sprouted from her back and she flew away, he seemed like he could easily grab her ankle. She was already overwhelmed by the man’s thick, long arms and enormous hands.

Grab dirt and throw it in his face? Run with the resolve to die? Those weren’t things a coward like Annette could do.

Stealing someone else’s clothes and secretly escaping was the maximum courage she could muster.

Annette had spent over a month preparing for today. Just secretly stealing clothes the maids had washed and hung out required multiple attempts.

The reason she could succeed in escaping was because no one in Rothe Castle paid her any attention. No one spoke to the Countess who lived obediently like she was dead. 

Four months since being dragged from the convent and married. By now, everyone here was accustomed to treating her like she was deaf.

Annette had resolved to escape because of something the Count said one night after finishing his liaison with a maid, like he was doing her a favor.

“If you keep being good like this, I might let you see your brother. Since he’s in my territory.”

Her brother was in Rothe.