7th Time Loop: The Villainess Enjoys a Carefree Life Married to His Worst Enemy!

Chapter 7: I'm looking forward to see how you'll surprise me next

Rishe pushed the blade against the soft skin of her inner arm. Blood welled up, along with the sharp sting of pain. Nothing compared to her injuries sustained during her life as a knight, though.

Arnold did not share her nonchalance. "What do you think you're doing?!"

He grabbed for her arm. She stepped out of his grasp. Was blood truly so shocking? She didn't have the time to worry about it. Clutching the overfull bowl, Rishe hurried back to the knights.

"Don't worry. This isn't poison," Rishe said. She demonstrated as much by drizzling it with a spoon over her own fresh wound. It stung. That meant the ingredients were working.

"This is crushed liquori grass, luqua flowers, and carilya nuts. I'll swallow some if that's what it takes to prove it's safe." It was horribly bitter; she hoped it wouldn't come to that. "The paralysis will last for days. Please make up your mind quickly."

"Make up our mind?"

"Will you allow me to cure the poison? Or would you rather drag paralyzed soldiers all the way to Galkhein? I suppose you could waste His Highness's time searching for a hunter's settlement to use their antidote." She smiled serenely.

"It makes no difference to us. Right, Your Highness?"

In the end, Rishe applied the antidote.

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The recovery took a few hours. While they waited, Rishe picked herbs in the same meadow she'd been gazing at with yearning from the carriage. A fortuitous turn of events. She found anti-inflammatory herbs and flowers to ease sour bellies, ingredients for curing headaches, and mushrooms for inducing slumber. She wrapped them all up in a handkerchief.

In the meantime, Arnold dispatched a messenger to this region's lord, making arrangements to deliver the apprehended bandits. After coordinating with Oliver, he drifted over to Rishe.

"I see your interest in flowers is mercenary, rather than ornamental," He said, surveying the heaps of herbs gathered on the bank of the pond. He sat down beside her.

When he didn't say anything more, Rishe went back to work plucking leaves from plants with valuable stems. The leaves had no medicinal effects, but they did make a decent broth. Slumber mushroom spores were a nuisance unless dried; they were spread out beside her in the sun.

I wonder, would he be annoyed if I attached herbs to the roof of the coach? That would be unusual adornment for a crown prince's retinue, but it wouldn't hurt to ask.

Rishe realized, quite suddenly, that Arnold was looking at her. At her hands, specifically. He sat cross-legged with his chin propped on his fist, staring her absently, like a kid watching a column of ants march by.

What is so fascinating about herbs?

Their eyes met. "Am I bothering you?" He asked.

Rishe shook her head slowly. "Not at all. I was just curious what caught your eye."

"Nothing specific. I was just thinking how very unusual you are." He was smiling again. "I'm looking forward to see how you'll surprise me next time."

Like I'm some sort of rare pet he bought to entertain him. She didn't like that.

Nothing she'd done was at all remarkable—normal tasks performed by a normal person.

"I didn't make that antidote for your amusement."

"I realize that." The instigating smile faded from his lips. "You know, those knights you coerced into taking your home-brewed medicine were all born in the slums."