I Refuse to Be Your Enemy! Volume 1 Read online

  After dinner, Alan took a stroll outside the inn with his equally young associate. They hadn’t seen each other in a while, and there was a lot to talk about. Accompanied by a single guard, they walked along, chatting merrily.

  But if an outsider had been around to overhear them, they would have overheard something quite peculiar:

  “Truth be told, it feels so suffocating to be shuttled around in a carriage.”

  “I quite agree. I much prefer riding a horse, even if it means my legs are worse off.”

  “Sad to say, but a carriage is our only option.”

  “You could share a horse with Wentworth, you know.”

  “Ridiculous. I’m not sharing a horse with another man. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m fifteen!”

  “What other choice is there, if we’re short on horses?”

  Alan grimaced as his blue-eyed companion snickered at him. Judging from their unreserved banter, one would understand them to be equals. They carried on in this fashion for some time... but right as they passed by the carriage house where the carriages were parked for the night, Alan’s associate stopped short.

  “What’s the matter, Reggie?”

  “Shh. Listen closely.”

  The other boy, Reggie, closed his eyes. Alan, too, fell silent and perked up his ears. Then, finally, he heard the sound Reggie was referring to.

  “Sausage... Cream... No, I’m stuffed...”

  There was a muffled voice coming from the carriage house—which was by all accounts empty, save for their two carriages.

  Alan’s expression stiffened. The voice was young and female, but that didn’t mean they could let their guards down. After all, if this person had managed to board the margrave’s carriage undetected, then it could be an assassin for all he knew.

  “Is she... talking in her sleep? We need to drag her out of there while we have the chance.” Alan hailed the nearby guard.

  In contrast, Reggie cocked his head pensively. “I’m not sure... If we were dealing with an assassin here, would she really risk sleeping on the job? Especially considering all the guards we have with us?”

  “You never take these things seriously,” Alan snorted. Fortunately, his companion didn’t seem opposed to tracking down the stowaway, at the very least. He turned to the guard. “We suspect someone’s aboard the carriage.”

  “Stay back. I’ll investigate.”

  The tall, dark-haired knight beckoned to the rest of his squad, who had tagged along in secret. One of them remained with Alan and Reggie, while the other accompanied the dark-haired knight into the carriage house.

  As they tracked the voice, they learned that it was coming not from the passenger carriage, but the hooded luggage carriage. The dark-haired knight attempted to enter from the back, but his body was too large, so he started shifting boxes out of the way.

  “Wait, Wentworth.” Reggie jogged over to the carriage.

  “Reggie! Don’t!” Alan hissed, as loud as he could reasonably get away with without waking the stowaway. But Reggie had already run around to the front of the carriage and climbed aboard. The dark-haired knight, Wentworth, dashed up to the front to try to stop him, but it was too late.

  Before they could react, Reggie peeked out from around the hood. Thank the heavens, he’s safe. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

  “Damn it, Reggie, don’t run off on your own! You need to act in a manner befitting of your station!”

  “Oh, I’m fine. See?”

  As he spoke, Reggie hopped out of the carriage... carrying a brown-haired girl wearing a familiar black school uniform. She looked to be a bit younger than they were.

  “I found her sound asleep in there,” Reggie grinned. “And if she’s a student from your school, then that means she’s the daughter of a noble, right?”

  Evidently, he didn’t see her as very dangerous. Alan scowled.

  “She could’ve stolen that uniform from anyone,” he warned. “That said, she certainly doesn’t look like a commoner. More importantly, how were you able to lift her without rousing her?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she’s just a really sound sleeper.”

  It didn’t add up. Surely even the heaviest sleeper would snap awake if someone grabbed them.

  “Let me take her, milord,” said Wentworth. “I need to examine her.”

  At his prompting, Reggie handed over the girl, and together they all headed back to the inn. Once they arrived back at Alan’s room, Wentworth laid her down on the bed. Still, she did not stir.

  Under the bright light, she was starting to look more and more like an ordinary heiress. Her light brown hair was healthy and glossy, and though it was a little messy at the moment, it was clear she brushed it every day. Her skin was pale from minimal exposure to the sun, and her fingers showed no telltale traces of “dishpan hands.”

  Furthermore, when they removed her boots, it became clear that they weren’t borrowed, but rather tailor-made to fit her feet. Now even Wentworth was starting to believe that she was merely an innocent stowaway.

  “If she turns out to be high-born, I’ll need you to apologize on my behalf, milord,” he said to Alan as he started to rummage through her pockets.

  From there, he produced a soft cotton handkerchief and a wallet. Its contents were fairly sizable, casting further doubt upon the possibility that she was a commoner. Lastly, from the inner pocket of her coat, he retrieved a piece of white stationery.

  “A letter?”

  “With this, I can confirm that she’s a student from your school. Take a look.” Wentworth offered the letter to Alan, who took it. Together with Reggie, he peered down at the brief message penned therein.

  The sender: Lord Patriciél. Evidently she was his daughter... but this “letter” was more of a directive, with the sort of commanding language one would use to address a servant. Apparently, a marriage had been arranged for her, and she was to drop out of school immediately. Further, he would be sending a carriage to pick her up and bring her home in time for the ceremony.

  “And to the viscount of Credias, of all people...”

  “Yeesh. She has my condolences.”

  Not only was the man old enough to be her father, but he was an infamous lecher who was rumored to keep a harem of women in his manor. Clearly this girl—“Kiara,” according to the letterhead—had escaped from the school in protest of this arranged marriage.

  Meanwhile, Alan was baffled. One would think all this patting and digging around would have startled her awake, and yet she slept right through it. Just then, Reggie sniffed the air.

  “Aha! I’ve figured it out, Alan. A sleeping-draught’s been brushed onto the stationery!”

  “What?!” Alan nearly dropped the letter in his surprise, but Reggie snatched it deftly between his index and middle finger.

  “I imagine the plan was for her to breathe in the fumes while she read it, allowing the draught to kick in almost instantly. Most of it has evaporated by now, but back when she first took it out of the envelope, I bet she inhaled quite a lot.” Reggie stared down at the sleeping Kiara, his expression stony. “It’s obvious the count was intending to take her home by force.”

  “That’s a hell of a way to treat his own daughter, don’t you think?”

  Was he really that desperate to enact this political marriage? Even the usually stoic Wentworth was frowning with concern.

  “Clearly he anticipated that she’d try to escape, so instead he decided to knock her unconscious. And by the time she woke, the deed would already be done,” Reggie surmised. “Regardless, I think it’s safe to say she’s no assassin.”

  ◇◇◇

  Blissfully unaware of the situation I had landed myself in, I continued to sleep... and sleep... and sleep... until the sun had risen the next day. As I stirred, I could tell that I’d been out for quite some time; in a sense, I was actually impressed I’d slept for so long in a hard wooden box. Perhaps I was just a really sound sleeper.

  Vaguely, it occurred to me
that this box felt an awful lot like a regular bed.

  Then I opened my eyes... and found an unfamiliar older boy staring back.

  “Wha... AAAAAAAAHHHH!”

  The scream caught in my throat, and I doubled forward into a coughing fit that brought tears to my eyes. As I coughed, the unfamiliar boy started to rub my back. Ugh... Thank you.

  Still, I needed to stay on guard.

  “Th-Thank you,” I sputtered, looking up at him. He didn’t seem flustered; instead, he pulled his hand away and continued to observe me like a scientist watching a lab rat.

  He had a head of dark hair, and he wore a dark gray, long-sleeved tunic made of thick fabric, with elaborate embroidery here and there. Judging from the blue cloak and the sword hanging at his hip, he looked to be a knight in service to a noble house.

  Having only just woken up, my mind was still fuzzy. However, a few moments later, I realized that I was decidedly not aboard a carriage. Moreover, I was in a bed in a room somewhere.

  And when I finally realized who had found me, I very nearly leapt out of my skin.

  “Eeeek! I’m really sorry for sneaking onto your carriage!”

  Sitting on my knees, I bent forward until my forehead touched the mattress, hoping against hope that they would accept my apology.

  “I did it purely on impulse, and for that, I’m sorry! I took one look at your carriage, and then I swear I heard the Goddess play her flute, so I went for it! I promise I’ll be out of your hair as fast as humanly possible! Oh, and I can pay you for the ride! I’ll give you a fat tip as a token of my apology, so please don’t press charges!”

  Terrified, I plunged a shaking hand into my pocket and pulled some money out of my wallet. But when I moved to put it on the side table, I instead tumbled face-first off the bed.

  “Whoooa!”

  There was a loud THUD as I hit the wooden floor. Reeling from the pain (not to mention the blow to my ego), I found myself temporarily incapacitated.

  First they had caught me illegally trespassing aboard their carriage, then they had carried me inside so I could sleep in a proper bed, and now I had just disgraced myself in front of them. If there was a Kiara-sized hole nearby, I wanted to crawl into it and never come out.

  The guy didn’t even crack a smile, either. Awkward.

  But just as I was trying to decide how to remedy the situation, someone started laughing.

  “Pffft... hahaha! That’s the first time I’ve ever seen a girl tumble out of bed!”

  I had assumed the dark-haired deadpan guy was the only other person in the room, but evidently I was mistaken. I looked up to find that the door was open, and two young guys were standing there.

  The dark-haired one was wearing the boys’ version of my black boarding school uniform, which meant he was assuredly the owner of the carriage I’d boarded. He gave me a blank stare as the other boy next to him cackled hysterically.

  The giggler, meanwhile, had long, glossy silver hair tied back in a ponytail, with shorter strands that fell over his ears. Likewise, his skin was nearly as pale as his hair, and his eyes, currently swimming in tears of laughter, were bright blue in color.

  As for his clothes, he wore a navy blue coat over a white collared tunic—attendant’s garb, by my estimation. After all, those knee-length coats came with large pockets designed to hold letters and other delivery items. But something about his attire struck me as almost... holy, in a way. Possibly because he was just that handsome.

  On reflex, I found myself wanting to ask “Are you an angel?” but fortunately, I had the sense to bite my tongue. After all, he was a guy; I wasn’t sure he would appreciate that sort of comparison. Still, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. It felt like I’d seen him somewhere before...

  A beat later, the dark-haired boy (whom I also vaguely recognized) jabbed the silver-haired boy in the arm. “That’s enough, Reggie.”

  “Sorry, Alan. It just tickled me, that’s all. Anyway, are you alright, miss? Can you stand?”

  The silver-haired boy (Reggie, apparently) walked over and offered me his hand. For a moment, I stared at him in a daze, then gingerly reached out to accept—

  “Reggie!”

  “Milord!”

  —but froze, startled, as the two other guys shouted in unison. Come now, I won’t bite, I thought with a frown, but then it hit me. Of course. I was a total stranger to these people. Worse still, I was caught stowing away aboard their vehicle. They had every right to suspect me of ill will.

  Thus, I decided it was best I didn’t accept his help—but before I could retract my hand, he seized me by the wrist.

  “There’s nothing to fear, you two. I believe this is a residual effect of the sleeping-draught.”

  “What are you—ack!”

  Sure enough, right as he pulled me to my feet, my knees buckled, and I slumped back to the floor. I blinked in surprise. Had all that sleep weakened me so terribly?

  Meanwhile, Reggie still held me by the wrist, though he didn’t seem interested in giving it a second try. Instead, he turned back to the other two.

  “See? Clearly this is another effect of the sedative, intended to keep her from escaping. There’s no way a lucid person would tumble face-first off the bed like that.”

  “Wait, what? ‘Keep me from escaping’?”

  I was embarrassed to learn that he’d witnessed my less-than-graceful swan dive to the floor, but more importantly, something else had caught my attention. Who was I supposed to be escaping, exactly? And what sedative was he talking about? When did I ingest such a thing? Suddenly, I found myself paranoid. Did these men do this to me?

  Just then, Alan finally broke his long silence.

  “Last night, we found you asleep in our carriage,” he explained.

  Yes, that made sense. I could remember nodding off to sleep in there.

  “So we carried you out, but you didn’t wake. Then we tried shaking you and shouting at you, both to no avail. And since you were a stowaway, we needed to take every precaution, so we examined your possessions. That’s how we came across the letter from your father... and we determined that it was laced with a sleeping agent.”

  He held up the letter I had received from Lord Patriciél.

  “What...? So he put a sleeping-draught... in the letter?” Was that really necessary?

  “Lady Kiara Patriciél, we believe your father attempted to sedate you in order to prevent you from escaping the arranged marriage prescribed in this letter. And sure enough, that is precisely what you attempted to do. However, you managed to find your way to safety before the sleeping-draught took effect.”

  “Nngh...”

  Sure enough, I’d taken one look at that letter and bolted like a bat out of hell. After all, he was only my adoptive father; there was no love between us. I didn’t much care if his plans were dashed. I was fourteen, and I was convinced that with a bit of hard work, I could make it on my own.

  At no point, however, did I suspect that the count might have laced the letter with a sleeping agent in order to take me home and marry me off by force. I suppose even he must have realized that no one in their right mind would happily agree to marry an awful lecher like Lord Credias.

  God, I’m so glad I got out of there.

  The second this thought crossed my mind, a wave of mingled relief and exhaustion washed over me, and my upper body slumped forward.

  “You alright?” Reggie asked gently, still holding my hand.

  “Frankly, I feel like passing out... but I know that’ll just create more hassle for everyone, so I’ll endure it.”

  After all, it was probably really annoying to have to carry my unconscious body—and I’d put them through it once already, so I didn’t want to make this first impression any worse.

  Then Reggie started snickering again. A real giggler, this guy.

  From there, I explained my circumstances—that the count had “adopted” me from my stepmother, and that I ran from the marriage due to my would-be fiancé’s t
errible reputation. Obviously I couldn’t tell them about my past life, so I wasn’t able to explain that I was trying to avoid being turned into a villain. Fortunately, they seemed reasonably convinced that a girl who had essentially been sold into slavery wouldn’t want to be forced into marriage.

  To be fair, this world likely had its share of horrible biological parents as well, but to them, this inhumane treatment seemed to make more sense coming from someone who wasn’t related to me by blood.

  “What on earth were you planning to do after you left the dormitory?” Alan asked, his annoyance plain as he sat across from me on the opposite bed.

  Alan was fifteen, one year my senior, which explained how we’d never met. At school, classes were grouped mostly by age and by gender. The only exception was theology class, which boys and girls attended together. Without some invested research on my part, I never would have had the opportunity to meet him.

  “Well, I figured I have enough money for carriage fare, so I thought I’d travel to a distant corner of some other territory and make my living doing... I don’t know, needlework or something.”

  “And then some kidnapper would’ve come along and snatched you right off the road,” Wentworth muttered under his breath, his expression impassive. Supposedly he was Alan’s knight-guard.

  He was absolutely right, of course, but due to a certain undisclosed reason, I was just that desperate. I wish I could be honest with them. Ugh, it’s so frustrating having to keep these secrets.

  As I awkwardly averted my eyes, Alan’s attendant Reggie spoke up. “Same difference, really. You read the letter. The count was already planning to kidnap her himself.”

  He did have a point. Either way, I would’ve been sold off to someone against my will. The only difference was that in the letter, my future owner was named outright.