“Have you ever killed someone?”

At the sudden question, Hari slowly closed and opened her eyes. In that instant, fragments of the past flashed by, staining her vision even after she opened her eyes. The burning temple of Galate, the king’s knights pursuing her as she ran through the collapsing corridors.

‘Princess, run…! Don’t worry about me and flee far, far away. I’ll buy you time. So leave this place where no one can find you, Princess.’

However, instead of following her nurse’s words, Hari swung a sharp blade. Along with it came the blood of the knight that drenched her entire body. The memories of that moment when she collapsed, trembling, before the knight with his throat deeply slashed could fall. Covered in blood, Hari blankly watched Hitais’s army approaching, breaking through the temple entrance. Unable to distinguish friend from foe, she threw away her sword and ran. She was separated from her nurse. After that, she was captured by Achilleon.

Hari took a deep breath. Sometimes there are truths that must be hidden.

“No. I’ve never killed anyone.”

“Your grip doesn’t look amateur.”

Hari put down the dagger she was holding onto the map.

“My birth mother was a dancer from the Lagonian desert. Lagonian dancers learn sword dancing from childhood. Of course, since I was taken to the palace when I was young, I never had the chance to learn, so don’t worry about me stabbing your neck with this.”

A lie. Hari had learned how to wield a sword. The matriarchal Lagonian dancers had to learn survival skills to protect themselves from strange intruders.

“But it shouldn’t matter if I can handle a dagger. It would be nothing for you to subdue me.”

“You know what’s characteristic of backstabbers? They’re the ones who don’t look like they would.”

“…”

“Of course, you might need to use that knife to protect yourself sooner than you’d need to stab my neck.”

Though she wasn’t fully aware of the external situation, she had heard from Rainan. That Duke Karnos was desperately searching for the woman who formed the imprint with Achilleon. Then suddenly, an unpleasant realization crossed her mind.

“Don’t tell me you planned for such a situation…”

“Do you need anything?”

Achilleon raised one corner of his smooth lips crookedly.

“Since it might feel stifling to stay inside all the time, I’ll grant you that much kindness.”

…So that’s it.

Does he think this trick will break my will to escape? Not a chance. Hari calmed her emotions and spoke steadily.

“Please bring me a lyre. You won’t let me go outside because it’s chaotic, and I take all my meals here, so there’s nothing proper to do.”

As if he hadn’t expected her to actually make a request, Achilleon slightly furrowed his brows. Soon, Rainan returned with a magnificent phorminx lyre made of tortoise shell and antelope horn.

“Play it.”

Hari received the lyre and began plucking the strings. Twang, ting, ting.

The rough sound like striking metal strings cut through the deepening silence. Having not played for so long, the performance wasn’t as good as she’d thought. However, Hari continued playing, regardless of the hardening expressions of her audience.

The initially off-key notes found their place and created quite a decent harmony. Hari regained her touch before long. Her delicate fingers danced over the smooth strings. The gentle touch and vibration of the strings blended like a single rhythm, filling the room. White sunlight poured like a curtain over the bowed head of Margharita. The path of light passing over her long eyelashes and crescent-like nostrils settled on the woman’s gently closed lips.

Achilleon stared intently at the woman who was creating soft sounds like threads while bathed in light. When she finished the gentle piece, the atmosphere had mellowed completely. Only after the performance that felt both long and short ended did Achilleon slowly remove his gaze from Hari. As the performance concluded leaving gentle resonance, Rainan, who had been standing awkwardly, responded with applause.

“How was it? I think my skills are decent enough.”

“It was a truly excellent performance, my lady.”

To Achilleon, who had grown up listening to royal musicians, the skill level was quite lacking. Still, it wasn’t completely unbearable. Contrary to these thoughts, Achilleon gave a twisted response.

“Don’t you think that’s too generous an assessment?”

“I thought it was good enough to enliven the mood in a plaza, even if not at the level of a professional musician.”

Achilleon stared at Hari’s serious face that showed not a hint of jest, then let out a low chuckle. The woman’s white fingers swimming like waves. Achilleon erased that unnecessary scene by briefly closing and opening his eyes, then turned away leaving a short command.

“Rainan, get her a lyre teacher.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

* * *

The conch sound announcing the start of the hunting festival spread through the summer forest full of fresh greenery. The weather, which had begun to enter full summer, was clear without signs of typhoon, and the sun beating down on the tents was hot. Hari looked around at the luxurious tents marked with family crests and the nobles dressed in hunting attire.

“This way, Lady Hari.”

Following Rainan, Hari spotted a tall man who stood out even among the nobles. It was Achilleon, already drawing the attention of many people.

A leather cuirass wrapped his broad chest, and over his shoulders was draped a chlamys embroidered with a golden ram. Below the short chiton for easy movement, his thigh and calf muscles were prominent. The straight-falling sunlight illuminated his leopard-like sleek body like a halo. Through the glittering leaves, she could see the man’s profile as he drank water. Hari quietly gazed at that target-like clear nape where blood vessels stood out diagonally.

“It would be better to enter Achilleon’s tent without drawing attention, so please bear with the inconvenience.”

Nodding, Hari finally took her eyes off Achilleon. The feeling that their eyes had briefly met must have been an illusion. Going around the bushes toward the tent, Hari discovered a horse tied to the fence. The black warhorse, massive and smooth-coated like its owner, seemed fierce-tempered. Its glossy coat gleaming in the sunlight resembled its owner’s hair exactly.

“Touch it.”

A low voice mixed with the breeze brushed her ear. Turning around, she saw Achilleon standing with the blue sky at his back. A wind carrying the scent of grass blew from his direction.

“I heard from Rainan. That you’re terrible at riding lessons. Can’t even get near horses?”

“I’m scared. I don’t want to get close to them.”

It was a beast three times her size. The terrifying dark brown warhorses of Galate that had trampled the golden sand dunes of Lagonia, the tents and furniture that had collapsed in ruins after being kicked by those solid hooves, screams and such rose over faded memories. Though it was from long ago, it still stabbed like an ambush, wearing vivid colors and sounds as if it happened yesterday.

Hari was afraid of large things. She disliked all things that broke the harmony of a coexisting world – power holders who knew no moderation. The person before her was no different.

It was then that the man suddenly approached Hari as she was about to withdraw to prepare for the main hunting ceremony. He grabbed her wrist and placed it on the horse’s belly, which felt soft like a carpet. When Achilleon’s large hand completely covered hers, Hari drew in a small breath. Purrrr, the horse shook its mane and lightly snorted. As it paced around swishing its long tail about to rear up on its hind legs, her fear doubled. When the frightened Hari tried to pull her hand away, it remained caught in his firm grip.

“There’s no reason to be afraid. Horses are sensitive animals. When the rider is tense, that anxiety transfers directly to the horse, so don’t be scared.”

A resolute voice blocked her.

“You can’t stay afraid forever.”

She felt the warm vitality of life in her palm. Hari focused on that warmth while steadying her breathing. The man was right. She couldn’t keep fearing and avoiding frightening opponents forever. If she only ran away, bound by painful memories, she would remain in place, unable to move forward.

“Close your eyes. How does it feel?”

“…It’s soft and warm.”

Was it because its owner was nearby? Despite its fierce appearance, the horse was docile.

Growing courageous, Hari slowly moved her hand to stroke the horse’s glossy neck. The texture brushed smoothly under her hand as sparkling sunlight fell upon it. With such a gentle horse, perhaps she could try riding it? It was then that the horse lowered its head and nudged her face with its nose.

“Ah.”

Achilleon laughed as Hari startled and stepped back. Her eyes, filled with transparent sunlight, were round like a small animal’s. The horse blinked, and her oddly placed apology also brought out an empty laugh.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Don’t be afraid, try holding the reins first.”

Hari unconsciously nodded. She was suddenly pulled back to reality when she felt a soft breath on her nape. Achilleon was very close, bending at the waist. The time that seemed to have stopped with the summer breeze shattered at that moment. Hari let go of the reins and stepped back, avoiding Achilleon who had come close.

“Time’s up. We’ll be late if we don’t prepare now.”

Achilleon straightened up and took two steps back. Pfft, a chuckle was heard.

“Your lace is undone.”

Hari quickly looked down. Awkwardly bending at the waist, she hurriedly tied the leather shoe lace that had come undone without her noticing, then walked quickly toward the tent without looking back.

Boom boom boom, the conch sound rang out, cutting through the hot summer sky. It was the sound announcing the start of the hunting festival.