Maxi followed the princess’s gaze over the wall. A violent gust blew over the steep slopes and sharp peaks of the snow-topped mountains. The princess swept her untamed hair out of her face as it twirled in the buffeting wind, never taking her eyes off the horizon.
“Everyone always said that Anatol was infested with monsters. I guess I was expecting grimmer scenery, a land of demons.” When she began strolling the length of the wall, Maxi followed beside her. “But the village is peaceful, and your markets are flourishing. I must admit, I’m quite surprised.”
“Mercenaries and…merchants flock to Anatol…during the spring,” Maxi mumbled, knowing she was not truly knowledgeable, just repeating what she’d heard.
The princess stroked her chin, seeming deep in thought. “I can see why Riftan is so attached to it. It must have taken enormous effort to bring prosperity to a land that’s been neglected for so long.”
Something ugly twisted in the pit of Maxi’s stomach. It was as if the princess were flaunting her closeness with Riftan. The sudden urge to yell at her—to tell her to stop acting so familiar with her husband—momentarily overcame Maxi. Surprised by her own viciousness, Maxi bit her lip to contain her impulse. A burning flush of shame crept to the tips of her ears for her pettiness.
“R-Riftan…has been working…d-day and night without rest…for the sake of Anatol.”
“It was the same during the campaign. No one ever saw the man rest. We all called him Mago. Some days it was hard to know whether the men feared him or worshipped him. Or both.”
“Ma…go?”
“A mythical creature that never sleeps, never tires, believed to have a hundred lives.” Agnes’s smile turned bitter. “The Temple Knights of Osiriya gave him the name after watching him rush headlong into danger time and time again, as if he were invincible.”
Ruth had already told her of Riftan’s recklessness, but Maxi’s heartstrings still knotted at the thought. She hunched her shoulders to fight off the biting cold.
Princess Agnes studied her with calm blue eyes. “I’ve always wondered what the Mago’s wife would be like. Whoexactly it was that he threw himself into the dragon’s fire to return to…”
At a loss for words, Maxi wet her parched lips. The statement hadn’t been a criticism, yet she could not help but feel she was being judged. She knew she didn’t deserve to be the wife of such a lauded knight. The princess undoubtedly knew it, too. Maxi could not bear to see her own pathetic reflection in the princess’s sapphire eyes and turned abruptly away, knowing rudeness would now be added to the tally of her faults.
“Th-The wind…is cold. We should…return to the castle, Your Highness. Th-There are also matters I must attend to….”
“Of course.”
Princess Agnes gazed over the Anatolium Mountains one more time before descending the stone stairs. Maxi watched her for a moment, then hurried after her, eager to be free of the storm of anxiety raging in her heart.
—
At sundown, the servantsclimbed ladders to light the chandelier inside the banquet hall. Braziers replenished with fresh coals burned around the room, and the tables were laden with a sumptuous feast.
Maxi sat next to Riftan at the head of one of the tables. The princess and her retinue sat across from them, while the royal knights took up the rest of the seats. Once the pages had served each guest with fragrant wine, Riftan raised his golden goblet.
“We welcome you to Anatol.”
Everyone raised their drinks in unison.
The princess lifted hers, full to the brim, and gave Riftan an elegant smile. “We thank you for your warm welcome.”
“You must be tired from your long journey, Your Highness,” bellowed an old knight. “Please enjoy the feast.”
The princess laughed and brought the goblet to her lips, cuing the rest of the party to begin the feast. Maxi took a bite of bread and glanced around the crowded table. The royal knights who had accompanied the princess appeared to be well acquainted with the Remdragon Knights, judging by their amicable banter. Even the princess forwent formalities when addressing the knights whom Maxi had taken months to get to know.
It seemed that Princess Agnes paid little to no mind to any of the etiquette and decorum expected of a noblewoman. It took Maxi aback, even after spending all afternoon with her. Even sitting amongst men much bigger than her, the princess held her own, not seeming intimidated in the slightest. She laughed loudly, smacking the shoulders of the knights as they jibed each other, her voice boisterous and provocative just like theirs. What surprised Maxi most of all was how little it seemed to faze the knights.
The princess was in the middle of a lively conversation with her neighbor when she abruptly turned to Riftan. “I would like to inspect Anatol as soon as possible. Could I trouble you for a tour tomorrow, Sir Riftan?”
Riftan took a sip of wine and replied coolly, “I will have Sir Ursuline show you around, Your Highness.”
“Tch. Ever so stonehearted, I see. Don’t think you can cast me aside so easily just because you are lord here. I have traveled to the end of the earth to come see you.”
“I do not recall making such a request of you.”
The royal knights’ expressions darkened at Riftan’s impertinence, and Maxi nervously studied the princess’s face. Such discourtesy toward the royal family would not be tolerated, even from a knight famed across the continent. Instead of being outraged, however, Princess Agnes burst into hearty laughter.
“You haven’t changed a bit, Mago.” She turned her beguiling smile to Maxi instead. “Then could I trouble you to be my guide, Lady Calypse?”
