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

Chapter 38: I'm here to settle this

"What?"

Arnold glanced at the door. "See? She's decided to join us."

"What the hell is wrong with you? You're being absolutely ludicr—"

Bang!—

The door flew open with a bang. Theodore let out a shout.

That door was locked. He was sure of it. Nevertheless, it was standing open.

"No. No, that's impossible."

In the threshold stood a girl with coral-colored hair. She had a dagger in her hand and was spreading out the ragged skirts of her dress.

His brother's fiancée—the beautiful Rishe—looked at him, smiled, and hooked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Good evening, Prince Theodore. I'm here to settle this."

Theodore shrank back. "This can't be happening!"

Don't tell me Elsie was moved by her kindness?! But that still doesn't make sense. I put Hugo and his men at the door. They would never betray me, or allow Elsie to either!

Rishe ignored his sputtering, her gaze shifting to the right. "Prince Arnold."

It was almost awkward, the way she said his name. A furtiveness to her expression. Theodore knew these two hadn't seen one another since that night in the chapel. He didn't know what had happened between them, but Arnold was regarding her coolly.

"I'm sorry for my idiot brother ruining your night," Arnold said.

"Oh, it's all right."

"Theodore was just telling me about the room where he locked you up. Did you jump out the window? Or just make a hole in the wall?"

"I have no idea what you mean! I left through the door like any normal person would."

Arnold laughed. "You left like 'any normal person' would leave a locked cell watched by armed guards."

Rishe looked troubled but less nervous than before. Not that any of that mattered to Theodore.

"Who the hell are you?!" He clenched his fists. "How did you get here? How did you escape?!"

"Prince Theodo—"

"Someone must have betrayed me. That's the only explanation! What was the point of doing all that if—"

"Your Highness. With all due respect, I'd love to offer you a few words of advice." Rishe's face had gone cold.

Theodore flinched away at her intensity. He couldn't help it, even if she was only an ignorant noblewoman—someone the same age as him.

"Advice?"

"First of all." Rishe put up a finger. "Don't let a prisoner of war out of your sight. You mustn't leave them alone, even in a locked room. If you can't be there yourself, post guards inside the room with them. At least two."

"Wh-what are you talking about? Prisoners of war?" He blurted. A normal noblewoman would never say something like this. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Second." Rishe raised another finger. "Always search your captive for weapons more than once. If you have an underling frisk a prisoner, you should do the final check yourself."

Rishe moved toward him, nonchalant, crowding Theodore up against the wall.

She flipped her dagger from hand to hand.

Where had she even gotten that?

"Honestly, you shouldn't leave them clothed—strip them completely. That way they won't be able to hide any weapons or tools to aid their escape. This is especially important if the prisoner is a woman. If she's indecent, she'll feel she can't run away, and she'll be afraid to try." The words fell from her red lips with a casual air, as if this was only common sense.

She then held up three fingers. "Third. You neglected to bind my hands and feet. When you do bind a prisoner, make sure they're in handcuffs and that the base of their thumbs is tied off with a durable rope. As for their ankles—I imagine this goes without saying, but it's best to fasten them to a pillar or a bed, something solid."

Her long-lashed eyes pierced Theodore. Her face was as pretty as a doll's but alight with something fierce and fearsome. He couldn't look away.

"But even with all of that, it's still half-hearted. Do you know how best to ensure someone can't run away?" Rishe leaned in.

"H-how?"

"You break their arms and legs."

Theodore swallowed hard his own saliva.

Was she serious?

His back hit the wall, Rishe leaning in close as she said matter-of-factly, "Those three actions are a sure thing. Broken bones, secure bonds, everything confiscated. Oh! And always post guards in groups. That's the only way to guarantee your prisoner won't escape you. Or...probably won't. You have to prepare for any eventuality."

What in the world is wrong with this girl?!

Theodore recognized the look in her eyes. He would never forget it. He'd seen it in the eyes of wounded soldiers when he'd treated their injuries on the front lines.

"Escaped enemies will have information about your position and the makeup of your army. They will endanger you and your allies. Civilians. You must always do what is necessary to ensure a captive can't slip your grasp."

Oh, wait. I was wrong.

She had the eyes of a solider standing on the battlefield, sword in hand. Just as he was sure of it, Rishe asserted, "That is what is required when you capture an enemy."

A chill ran down Theodore's spine.

Rishe, who had no idea what she was doing to him, smiled bashfully. "At least, that's how I learned it from a book. You went too easy on me, considering you were trying to threaten Arnold with my well-being. You even told them not to be rough with me."

"How did y—"

"I know, I know, I'm talking too much. But I still haven't told you the most important thing. I will be keeping how I escaped a secret—oh?!"

A big hand grabbed Rishe by the shoulder, pulling her backward. Behind her stood Theodore's brother, Arnold, looking consternated.

Rishe looked up at him. "Your Highness? "

"Why are you giving the person who captured you a flawless method of keeping someone restrained?" Arnold asked as he draped his jacket over Rishe's shoulders.

That was when Theodore noticed that her dress wasn't just ragged—it was torn all the way from waist to hem.

Rishe looked flustered. "Your Highness! You mustn't! I'm fine; please keep your jacket on."

"I'm not cold. You wear it."

"But your scars..."

Before Rishe even spoke, Theodore's gaze had locked on Arnold's shoulders.

What are those wounds?

On Arnold's body were countless scars. They were old, but he could tell they had been deep.

When was he injured? I had no idea that happened to him. He must have been hiding it. But she knew about it.

That was when Theodore understood.

She really is better than me.

He clenched his teeth. He doesn't tell me his secrets. He doesn't trust me. I know that, and yet...I can't help how I feel.