How long does it take for the universe to shatter? How much longer to right itself? In the space of a month, the only illusion of home she has ever known grabs her wrists and flings her out its gates to navigate the tides of an alien world. It's a marriage, yes, and she should be so very happy to be shipped away to a foreign land like a crate of smelly tuna.

Ka Koubun takes charge of the preparations. Droves of attendants swiftly pack away her finest robes, her best perfumes. When her room has been stripped to the bare essentials, he raids the national archives for additional lessons for his charge.

She comes in from sparring practice and afternoon tea with Kouha and finds a mountain of scrolls dumped on her bed.

"What on Earth is all this for?!"

"As you may have heard, the country of Balbadd has undergone significant changes in the past half-decade. This calls for a last minute review on international diplomacy," he quickly explains.

No, no, no. Enough. Please.

"Why don't you rest instead, Ka Koubun? You've been very busy these past days." It's pointless. Discarded finery like her will never be of any use anyway.

A dark shadow passes her doorway, interrupting her thoughts.

"Ah, Judar-chan—"

He gives her a cold glare. "Later, Old Hag. I'm busy." He stalks away, peach in hand, some nervous habit he's been prone to as of late. Tomorrow he departs with her on some classified business for Kou. And then it will be the last she'll ever see of him for a long time.

A cold gust whips around in his wake, and she grips her elbows tight, bracing herself against the chill of leaves in free fall. The wind is fierce and hollow, like glaciers melting, like birds falling off their nest.

Like the snapping of guzheng strings.


"Princess, wake up! Today we set sail for Balbadd!"

Ka Koubun's voice is a buzzing in her ears, loud and noisy enough to cut short the aimless morphing of semi-nightmares. Kougyoku grabs her pillow, clamps it over her head, and digs under the sheets. This is her last morning in her bed, and she isn't ready to part with it. Just a few more minutes...I don't want to leave yet ...

Her attendant responds by tapping his foot on the mahogany floor, unfazed by her petulant groans.

"You don't want to be late for your own wedding," is all the warning she gets before handmaidens drag her into a freezing bath. They all but drown her in scented oils and scrub until the shade of her skin rivals the rose petals in the tub.

The next hour consists of applying layer upon layer of make-up onto her face. When it's over, she feels like a withered corncob grated raw and plunged into a hundred different vats of paint.

Judar saunters in with a frown. "You missed a spot, Old Hag."

"Huh? Where?" Kougyoku makes a rush for the mirror. Nothing seems out of place.

"Right here." He tugs one of her hairloops loose, earning her another half hour of sitting stiffly as her frustrated attendants redo her hair.

Just as the last pin is carefully slid into place, a palace servant arrives to usher them into the dining hall for breakfast.

The farewell meal is nothing short of a feast, but nervousness nests in Kougyoku's belly, leaving no room for more than a few morsels. Her appetite squished thin, she fiddles with her food until Koumei startles her with a reprimanding cough, causing her to drop her chopsticks.

The rest of the meal proceeds in uncharacteristic silence. Kouha's attempts at small talk are ignored. Kourin's on a honeymoon, Hakuei is all smiles but looks worried over something. Kouen is stoic as ever, Koumei is busy swatting away Judar's greedy fingers from his plate, and Hakuryuu has more on his mind than the fate of his youngest stepsister.

What a horrible start to a horrible day, Kougyoku thinks as she chokes down the the last scraps of beef stew. It's occasions like this that played tug of war with her emotions all month. If I go, if I stay — between the desert and the palace, which is the less miserable place?


"I expect negotiations to proceed smoothly," are her father's parting words before she sets foot on the carriage that will take her to the harbor.

She knows enough to get the underlying message: Don't mess up. All he sees is another piece falling into place, another nation to take over. For a brief second she pities the country she'll be exiled to.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"You are dismissed." Good riddance.

He doesn't bother to send her off, delegating Kouen and Koumei in his stead. Kouha, Hakuryuu, and Hakuei tag along and make small talk about the war in such-and-such, or the territory of so-and-so. Names she can't place and countries she couldn't care less about, an unspoken reminder that she will never be one of them, or like them, or with them. Because the last-born princess is worth a treaty and nothing more.

All too soon, the port looms into view. Time for her last goodbyes.

"Make Kou proud," Kouen says. Koumei nods, Hakuryuu bows, Hakuei gives her a wave.

Kouha pulls her into a hug. She grips him tight, fighting back tears. Of all her siblings, she'll miss him the most. Those pink braids. That eccentric personality to match her own. The words of comfort when her sisters would bully her. He's also the only one who shares the stigma of a less than ideal mother.

"Thanks, everyone, for escorting me. I shall take my leave now." With one last bow, she marches forward, head held high as her unsteady footsteps traverse the plank bridging ship and shore.

Don't look back, she tells herself.

She does anyway. The wind speeds up and the sails unfurl and she watches the empire shrink into a tiny speck and vanish into the fog over the ocean.


The royal cruise is enormous. Even with all those layers of clothes on, she and her shadow barely take up space. Was she so much trouble back in the palace that her father had to kick her out?

She peers down into the darkening waters. A huge wave rocks the ship, forcing her to cling to the railing for support.

"Seas are somewhat rough, Your Highness. But don't worry. We won't be facing a real storm for weeks," the first mate reassures her.

She fingers her hairpin, seized by a sudden impulse. She could fling herself overboard, use Vinea to launch a wave to take her home. Or she could gather rukh from the sea to sustain her magoi and fly all the way back.

But. Such thoughts do not become a princess. Whatever bravery she ever had, it must have faded along with the Kou shoreline.


Her worries haunt her in dreams. Sleep eludes her certain evenings. One day she finds herself in the Kou palace sparring with her brother Kouha. Lightning surges through her veins as they cross blades. It's raw, terrifying power, and it thrills her. He strikes, she counters, he misses, she thrusts — in the heat of battle, he gets impaled by Vinea's blade. He collapses into a sea of scarlet, gasping until the light in his eyes flickers out, and his bloodstained face is the last thing she sees before Ka Koubun shakes her awake.

"Princess, you were having a nightmare," he says, candle in hand, hair in disarray. Two maids accompany him, blinking groggy eyes.

"Did I scream too loud?"

He merely nods and orders one of the attendants to fetch chamomile tea for the princess. She empties her cup in one gulp, so fast that it burns rather than soothes her parched throat. Relieved, Ka Koubun stumbles back to his room.

At the sound of his deep snores, Kougyoku sneaks up the deck and commences solo stargazing, knowing she won't sleep a wink until dawn. The image of her brother's corpse is too vividly etched in her mind.

Kouha onii-sama... are you alright?

Lazy footfalls alert her to another's presence. So she's not the only one restless tonight. Judar-chan is awake, too. She makes her way to him and plops down to his right. She spends a minute tidying her skirts, tugging the fabric a triple dozen ways in hopes of getting rid of each imagined wrinkle. Not like it matters, actually. Judar is Judar, and Judar never cared for these kinds of trivialities. Her legs shift again and he looks away, eyes focused on something she can't see.

She wants to talk to him, but she kind of doesn't. She wants something more than this overwhelming, irritating, dreadful quiet.

"The stars are quite beautiful, don't you think so?"

A click of his tongue is the only response she gets.

"Can't sleep either?"

He grunts.

"Hey, that's the Northern Crown!"

He whips his head towards where she's pointing. "The what?"

Finally, a decent response.

"It's my favorite constellation. According to myth, there was once a princess who helped a hero navigate a labyrinth to slay a monster. They fell in love, but he abandoned her eventually. A god took pity on her and married her. When she died, he took the crown he had given her and tossed it among the stars."

"That's it? What a boring story. The monster should have crushed them to pieces and eaten them alive — then it would have been interesting."

She swallows hard. Yes, that's Judar-chan, alright. Nothing interests him that doesn't involve copious amounts of blood and gore.

"Why'd you like that stupid tale, anyway?"

"The crown...it's like a symbol of forever, that no matter what, even in death, their promise remains."

He stares at her, really stares, in that unnerving, unrelenting sort of way that turns her insides into packed snow and drives icicles into her lungs. But then this expression changes into something that might resemble a grin, albeit too dark and weighted to be one. "Want a crown of stars, Old Hag?"

"Don't be silly! There's no way anyone could produce such a thing! Stars are there to remind us that some things are beyond our reach."

The smirk on his face tells her he'll find a way to reach them someday. He's a magi, after all. Nothing's impossible.

Nothing.

"Judar-chan, uh..."

"What? Spit it out!"

Will you miss me? No, you won't. Of course you won't.

This is Judar, and some questions must remain unsaid. So she settles for something simpler, safer, something that won't break them both.

"Uh, what is Balbadd like?"

He snorts. "It's in the desert, so there's got to be lots of sand. For goodness sake, use your head, Old Hag." She's probably reading into it way more than she should, but it sounds as if...as if there's something akin to sadness in his voice. Maybe it's his way of saying goodbye.

Dead silence follows, broken only by the crashing of the ocean.

"Kougyoku," he says, slowly, for the words seem foreign on his tongue. "If that husband of yours gives you trouble, beat him up. I'll expect nothing less."

It's the second time he's called her by name. The first instance, he'd found her weeping by a heap of headless dolls torn apart in a fit of rage. That was back when she was just a girl hiding behind Kouha's sleeves.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a yawn from her companion. "Enough with this silly conversation. I'm sleepy. See ya in the morning!" Away he goes in search of a comfortable bed, leaving Kougyoku to mull over his words.

She lifts her eyes to scan the horizon. Dozens of constellations stretch from one end to another, each with its own story, its own course, its own shine. Her future's quite the opposite, uncertain as the sea's shifting waves and murky depths. But for now, it's okay.

The corners of her mouth curve into a smile.

Thank you.


A couple of days pass before they sight land. Judar whisks out his flying carpet and charges ahead. Ka Koubun escorts her down as they embark on the sandy coast.

So this is Balbadd. Nothing but desert sand...merchant caravans...peasants...camels...cacti of all shapes and sizes...an oasis or two...and...even more sand. The port is lined with fishing boats, each one brimming with the sea's bounty. The magicians in her entourage prepare a flying carpet to carry them to Balbadd City. It's a long morning of air travel ahead with only one stopover for lunch.

Sightseeing is a disappointment. Endless sand dunes take the place of mountains and not a single forest is in sight. Most houses are simple four-walled structures lacking the sophistication of Kou architecture. There's that cluster of domed buildings that might have been magnificent once, but have long fallen prey to erosion. Overall, Balbadd gives the impression of an ancient ruin halfway consumed by the very desert it stands on.

To kill boredom, Kougyoku counts the merchant caravans they pass by. She makes it to her 28th camel before losing track completely and falling asleep.


She awakens to the chaos of the market. There's nothing like the awful screeching of worn down rickshaws to disturb your afternoon nap. The carpet flies lower, bringing the bustle in the streets into plain view. Merchants everywhere. A fat, mustached man haggles his wares. A scrawny child begging for alms. Foul stench combined with the nauseating heat send her stomach heaving.

"What's wrong, Princess?" She spares him a glance, only to find her attendant's hand pinching his nose.

"Ka Koubun, it stinks! I want to throw up!"

"Whaaat? Uh...understood! You lazy wizards! Fly higher! The princess will suffocate to death in this nasty place!" he barks out.

Grumbling, the men release more power, causing the carpet to ascend. But lifting it higher means drawing closer to the sun's scorching rays, and their flimsy fabric canopy is no match for the blazing heat. They're all sweating profusely, but the desert heat's like a furnace vaporizing the beads of moisture on their skin, leaving a sticky itch. Ka Koubun inches closer to the princes and fans her till his arms give out. It's hopeless. She can feel the steam rising from their skin, sapping her strength.

"Ka Koubun...I feel like I'm about to faint..."

That is all it takes for him to explode. "Stop this madness already! Get rid of this useless carpet at once! Someone get a carriage!"

They descend and transfer to more comfortable accommodations. Kougyoku slumps in her seat, exhausted. It hasn't been half a day and already she hates this place.

"Just bear with it a little longer, my Princess. We'll be at the palace before you know it," Ka Koubun assures her.

If only she realized that "a little longer" meant three full hours in the sun.

They arrive at the palace an hour after sundown. Maids immediately escort her to her room and prepare a luxurious bath. She bids goodnight to Ka Koubun before collapsing into bed. I can't remember feeling this tired before. With a week to settle in and collect her thoughts before signing that treaty, she closes her eyes and falls into blissful slumber.


She doesn't meet her betrothed for the course of the week. The tension in her chest resurfaces; she needs something — anything to quell this anxiety before the wedding. Upon Ka Koubun's advice, she decides to pass time learning about this country. Requests for any books in the library about Balbadd culture are quickly carried out.

It's interesting, to say the least. A melting pot of various civilizations, amalgamating into a unique way of life, vastly different from the enforced uniformity of Kou.

She puts down her seventh book and prepares to look into the next pile to her left. But first, a cup of tea.

Ah nothing like good old Kou tea to calm your nerves. This country's tea can never compare.

"Himegimi, the servants have finished unpacking. All is set for the upcoming ceremony," Ka Koubun dutifully reports.

"Princess, is something the matter? You've been unusually...quiet these past days. Are you worried that badly?" He surveys the book lying on the table. The History of the Saluja Dynasty.

"Ne, Ka Koubun, are you aware that Balbadd has been ruled by generations of the Saluja clan since it was founded centuries ago? Every single ruler is listed here, including their sons and daughters. I was just thinking, father never called me by name. Not even once."

"Princess, it will do no good to dwell on such things." His voice is grave, with only a wisp of sympathy.

"Why not Hakuei, Ka Koubun? Why was I the one condemned to this cursed place?" she snaps, taking a long sip from her cup to calm her turbulent emotions. "She's Kouen onii-sama's favorite, isn't she?" Cause she's good and brave and a full-blooded royal and everything I'm not. That's why she was spared such a fate.

"I'm envious. I really am. But this is the only thing I can do for my country now. I can't afford to be a disgrace." Resolve wells up anew. She will not be a crybaby for the rest of her life. Whoever this King Ahmad is, whatever misgivings she may have towards this country, she'll face it all as a true warrior should. And maybe fate will smile down on her at last.


Her first real adventure in this strange land is a skirmish with a blue-haired boy and a blue-skinned giant. She's cruising on carpet on a tour of the city when a shower of human-sized icicles rain down.

Ka Koubun's exasperated sigh confirms her suspicions. Judar has gone to pick a fight. She arrives in time to witness her childhood companion mercilessly crushed by a headless brute. Her gaze sweeps over the fallen magi lying in a heap on the ground. Cold dread grips her heart, worse than meeting Al Thamen, worse than fighting for her life in Vinea's dungeon. Judar-chan...could he be dead?

Flashes of him parade through her mind. Him stealing her peach on their first encounter. Flying with him on her first carpet ride, his thick braid whipping in the wind. Bouts of carefree laughter, singing down hail and frost. His outstretched hand wrapped around hers, acknowledging a strength she would never have discovered on her own. Through the years he's become an indelible part of her existence, and she can't imagine what her life would be without him.

"Ka Koubun! I'll leave Judar-chan to you! You better heal him properly. We can't let him die." Reaching for her gold pin, she screams for Vinea as she faces off with the beast.

You monster! You'll pay for this!

The headless giant pummels through the vortex of water entwined around her blade, steadily vaporizing it with flaming hands. A massive fist comes swinging to her left. She dodges, weaving her water snakes back and forth. If one of those crushing blows hits its target, she'll be pulverized. Calling forth more power, she aims her weapon for her final move. Swirling torrents gush forth and pierce a fatal hole in her opponent's frame.

You're finished!

"Ka Koubun, how is Judar-chan?" Please, please, say he's alright.

"I've performed emergency care," he replies in monotone. "He's breathing, but we need to transfer him to better facilities for me to heal him properly."

"Then let's hurry."

They prepare to leave, but a flaming blast blocks the path. A boy rises in the air, riding the currents of the night.

"You impudent brat! Get out of my way!" At the least she expects him to be grateful for destroying the monster.

He refuses. The giant she cut down was his friend who only fought to protect him from the one who started the fight, he claims, pointing accusing fingers at Judar. Logic tells her that indeed, Kou's resident magi must have started the fight, but one look at Judar-chan's battered frame sends her flying into a rage. She will never, ever forgive anyone who lays a hand on him.

The battle's not yet over.

"Enshin, Entai, Engi!" Three shadows leap forth at her command. "I'll take care of this kid. You three, get rid of this rubbish at once!" Her mouth contorts into a bitter smile. What irony. In her father's eyes, she's no different from trash herself.

More figures enter the playing field. A shock of gold, a ruby pigtail. Both sides seem evenly matched. Might as well get serious. She descends and begins to coat her body with water when a strong hand halts her efforts halfway.

"And who are you?" she spits back.

It's too dark to recognize the stranger's face. He isn't clad in distinguishing robes or ornaments, but that imposing profile outlined by moonlight...that dignified voice...surely it can't be?

"King of Sindria, leader of the Alliance of Seven Seas, Sinbad."

That Sinbad-sama? From long ago...was it two years? Or three?

She's always been dreaming of purple hair. But in her dreams his face was always a blinding sun. A kind smile. Someone to appreciate. It could have been anyone else and it would make no difference, she realizes.

Now her vision has become reality and he doesn't remember her. Figures. She was younger back then.

Flustered, she beats a hasty retreat back to Balbadd palace. From the safety of the flying carpet, she takes one last look at the gathered crowd, committing to memory the faces of the people she and her men crossed swords with.

The golden-blonde with the dagger sends her a scathing glare. She glares back steadily, holding his gaze until the night snatches him away.


Two days later, she runs into that same sun-kissed gold. There has been a commotion at the palace courtyard, and she wishes to ascertain the cause.

Tradition holds that it is bad luck for a bride and groom to meet before the actual wedding. She risks it anyway, since whatever's taking place may be detrimental to the very crux of her mission here. What greets her is a throng of soldiers hunched around an empty throne. From the looks of it, there seems to be a rebellion of some sort.

First things first. "I am the eighth princess of the Kou Empire, Ren Kougyoku, King Ahbmad's betrothed. May I know who the king of this country is?"

She surveys the throne room. No one exudes the commanding aura of her brother Kouen, nor the charisma of King Sinbad. Just how pathetic can this country be?

"I am!" a voice squeaks from the floor.

There's a term for this feeling.

Revulsion.

She wills herself not to shriek. I did not travel all the way to Balbadd for this! For a split second she forgets to remind herself there's no turning back. Too much is at stake.

Just let me die instead. If Judar were around, he'd be laughing himself to tears at her predicament.

"Actually, Your Highness, we are not sure who is king at the moment," the banker interjects, his grotesque eyeball rolling in undecipherable patterns in its socket.

The self-proclaimed king curses. She's left staring blankly, puzzled by the sudden turn of events. Waves of tension loop back and forth, squeezing, squeezing, until the air tightens with misplaced hostility.

A confession rings out. The younger brother refuses to ascend the throne. That leaves only one option.

"Will you be king?" Kougyoku asks the third prince.

"No," he replies, scrambling the game yet again. All the pieces have fallen off the table; how shall they continue?

"I will not for I am unworthy," he explains.

Kougyoku is at wit's end. This man instigated the rebellion; now he refuses to be king!

"There won't be another king because the monarchy of Balbadd will now become a republic!" He skillfully lays out his plan, declares his undying devotion for his country. She'd be impressed if only his statements weren't half as outrageous.

He's either a genius or a fool. Either way, she's at a disadvantage.

If he's a genius, he'll play her for a fool. If he's a fool, then countering his ridiculous logic will only expose her as an even greater fool.

I knew I wasn't cut out for this. If only Kouen onii-sama were here, he'd know what to do.

Determination sparks in his amber eyes. She recognizes those gold flares from a couple of nights back. Same opponent, different battlefield. The fate of two countries hangs in the balance. She will win this duel of words.

It's been ages since her last truly engaging match. Something in her is excited about the outcome. Push forward, one step, two steps. If you fail this, you can never look Father in the eye again. And then, just when you think you've won, he brings out his trump card. Tables are turned, you retreat. One step, two steps. Not good.

He's presently spouting out more nonsense, as if she'll ever buy into that crap. He's messing up with her plans. He's also her only chance of escape.

She watches with gritted teeth as he backs her into a corner. But she's got another trick up her sleeve. "If Kou cannot achieve its goal through amicable negotiations, it will resort to war. Do you wish for needless bloodshed to fall upon your country?"

"What would the Emperor of Kou prefer? To raze this country to the ground, destroying everything of value or to gain a share in the profits of our lucrative trade?"

They're practically butting heads by now. He's fire, a roaring blaze that threatens to devour her whole. But she's the ocean; churn her up and her unleashed fury will engulf the land.

Forget the rules. All decorum and tact go flying out the window.

"You insolent...child!"

She hasn't strangled him yet. That's a feat. Their verbal match goes on; he will not listen to reason, choosing instead to hack away at her defense till there's nothing between them but untamed fury. She's just about ready to draw her blade and settle matters with a sword fight when a familiar voice calls out.

King Sinbad's here!

The ruler of Sindria shows up with members of the Alliance of Seven Seas, declaring Balbadd's membership and subsequent political rights.

The fiery-haired prince is quick to agree. Bested by their combined efforts, Kougyoku concedes upon the condition that Sinbad make a personal visit to Kou. That should take care of any complaints her fa—the emperor may have about the new arrangement.

With a snap of her boots, she exits the scene, towing behind a visibly shocked Ka Koubun.

She's actually relieved to be on her way. What is with those brothers? One's an arrogant fool, the other an infuriating brat. Royalty at its worst, though the younger of the two was actually entertaining. She's almost sad that their little duel is over.

"Princess, are you sure about this?" Ka Koubun's anxious and has every right to be. The Emperor will be furious when he finds out. She lost— Kou lost — and Kou never loses.

Only it doesn't feel that way.

Fine. Call it a stalemate. And in a way, you were saved. You should thank that prince.

Never mind. She'll deal with that later. For now...

"Come on, Ka Koubun! We're going home!"