The Villainess Enjoys Her Seventh Life as a Free-Spirited Bride (hostage) in a Former Enemy Country

Chapter 117.1

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―――― That’s not Prince Curtis.

****

In her fifth lifetime, the man who led the group of hunters to which Rishe belonged always wore an elusive smile.

His features were generally sweet and well-sculpted, with a slight hunch to his eyes.

He would stare at other people, but he had an exquisite way of shifting his gaze, and his behavior was somewhere between friendly and familiar.

His hair was a common chestnut color, and he kept it cut short and unkempt. He was tall, but not noticeably so, and he was thin and bony.

From his appearance, he was around his 20’s. The women, for the most part, liked him and accepted him as a close friend.

But he lied too much.

“Hey, Rishe. You’re looking pretty again today.”

He often smiled and shot light-hearted remarks like this.

His chestnut hair was not his real hair color. It was actually blonde, almost orange, dyed with a special potion.

His hair, which he said was “habitual since birth,” was damaged by dyeing.

Even his age doubtfully matched his appearance. He interacted with a lot of women, but none of them were sincere in their relationships.

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“Me? I don’t really like any of them.”

To top it all off, none of the names he used were his real name.

Then, with the same smile on his face as when he jokingly picked on Rishe, he gave his men bold instructions.

“Has the prey noticed the siege? Oh well, it’s no big deal to get this far….If we can finish the hunt before they escape, we win, right?”

Before Rishe and her companions, he introduced himself as “Raul.”

He behaved in an ungainly manner, and followed the hunters around, heckling them in any situation.

And yet, he was also a man with an unimaginable work ethic.

“――Raul!”

When Rishe returned to the hunting lodge and took off her hood, she was astonished to see Raul up and about.

“You’re not planning to go out hunting in that state, are you?”

Rishe’s premonition was right on the money, and her companions looked troubled. Raul cowered and lamented deliberately.

“What’s the matter with you, Rishe? We’re like a family, so when we come home, we should say ‘I’m home’.”

“Don’t you dare try to change the subject! I told you not to move for a while, you have cracked ribs.”

“Don’t worry. Rishe’s painkillers are working, so I can do anything now.”

Raul chuckled as he put on his hunting jacket.

“That’s our goddess of luck. You’ve improved your bow quickly; you’ve gotten used to the forest; and you can refine medicine! I really think we got a good find five years ago.”

“Raul, I should have told you that painkillers are meant for recuperating, not for forcing yourself to move.”

“Maybe if you told me to hang in there, I’d feel a little better?”

“All I want to tell you is to go back to sleep until your injuries heal, Chief.”

When Rishe squinted at him, Raul seemed happy for some reason.

Rishe sighed in a huff at the circumstances where humor was unclear.

“…Look here, Raul.”

“Dude, there’s a big game, am I right? There’s no way I’m going to sit around and wait for my prey to come to my hunting grounds.”

The smile was somewhat frivolous, but only the eyes were tinged with sincere emotion.

“I am, in spite of my appearance, very loyal to the Sigwell royal family.

“…”

Raul said, and looked straight at Rishe.

His eyes were a deep red.

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***

“――Still, I can’t believe that His Highness Curtis brought me so many books!”

Rishe, who sat next to Arnold, exclaimed as she stroked the cover of a stack of books.

They were sitting on a sofa together in a newly prepared room on the south wing on the fourth floor of the castle.

As Rishe sipped her tea before going to sleep, she picked up a book that was given to her as a “souvenir” and flipped through it.

Both had already bathed and changed into their nightgowns.

Arnold, who usually covered his neck, seemed to wear comfy clothes in bed, and even his collarbone was visible under his unbuttoned shirt.

“Look at this, Your Highness. Even the fine design on the cover is printed very beautifully.

Rishe commented with a smile, to which Arnold replied indifferently.

“Right.”

At first glance, he seemed indifferent, but he also had a book in his hand. If he really wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t have even picked it up in the first place.

I’m gradually learning more about His Highness Arnold, too.

And so Arnold said as he flipped through the pages.

“They’re not too badly damaged for having been transported by ship.”

“I’ve heard that they are very particular about the paper they use to pursue ease of storage. It’s fun to learn about the art of bookmaking in the Sigwell Kingdom just by holding one in this way!”

Rishe looked into the distance after that remark.

His Highness Curtis is not him, though. He’s a fake…

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