A/N: I originally meant this to be a series of drabbles but somehow it's become a sort of chaptered fic. :S

Anyway, for whatever it's worth and for whoever is still reading this or even remembers this story, here's chapter 4. :)

Comments, suggestions and concrit are highly appreciated.

Thanks!

Other than the slight tightening at the corner of his mouth, which was imperceptible to an untrained eye, Seiran did not so much as blink. He casually turned to the table by his bedside and idly began picking things up and examining them.

"What a silly question; Ojou-sama, it is common knowledge that the exiled prince is dead," he replied dismissively. Forcing a chuckle he continued, "And how could you possibly confuse me with royalty— especially you who know my past intimately," he stated matter-of-factly.

Seiran was glad that his back was turned to his mistress otherwise she would have easily uncovered the truth behind his lies.

Before she could even think about the propriety of her actions, Shuurei grabbed hold of his arm and forcibly turned him to face her.

Against his will, Seiran found himself staring into a pair of dark and searching eyes that roamed over his visage intently.

"You're lying to me," she whispered in disappointment. "Why? Would it be so terrible for me to find out your secret?"

Seiran kept his face totally devoid of expression and met Shuurei's piercing look with relative equanimity. "I'm not lying Ojou-sama," he responded automatically, his retainer's smile sliding faithfully into place.

Heat raced to her cheeks, tinting them crimson. Shuurei's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Stop it, just stop it!" She stated fiercely. "You say I know you best— then submit to me now. For once, do away with the half-truths and deception." She demanded almost belligerently.

"And what good would it do?" He asked slowly in a voice devoid of emotion. "Should I choose to entertain this ridiculous notion of yours and decide to humor you— and admit that I am indeed the exiled prince— what good will it do? He enunciated carefully.

Seiran stared down and took in chocolate eyes that were suddenly cloudy with confusion. While part of him ached to see Shuurei unsure and uncertain, there was too much at stake for him to give anything away— not even if it were for the sake of that which was most precious to him.

"Will you persist in this foolishness Ojou-sama?" he asked quietly. "As a court official you are well aware of the precarious state the Kingdom is in. Ryuuki… no, the emperor," her corrected himself and continued on. "The emperor needs your loyalty and unwavering support more than ever."

Shuurei had remained mute and rigid in his hold, and again it pierced his hear that he could not protect her from the maelstrom that was quickly descending to ravage the capital.

"This Kingdom needs peace, a time to heal and prosper. There is no room for hesitation and indecision, much less the resurrection of a long forgotten prince."

"This is not some fairy tale with a neat and happy ending," he ended gently. "You do understand that don't you, Shuurei? Nothing good will come from chasing phantoms."

After a few moments, Shuurei relaxed against him and rested her forehead against the center of his chest. She desperately wanted to lash out at him and at the unfairness of it all. How could her Seiran lie so beautifully to her face? She clenched her fists tightly to keep them from trembling.

"And if I don't?" She asked huskily.

Seiran started at the sound of her voice and looked down in surprise. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Don't what Ojou-sama?" he asked uncertainly.

"If I don't understand," she clarified. She moved a step back and looked up into his face, trying to read the darkness shadowing his usual clear and steady gaze. "Help me understand Seiran, make me…" she implored haltingly.

"How can you continue denying your heritage when you can clearly see that our country is falling apart?" Shuurei ended on a choked sob.

Seiran felt the dampness of his mistress' tears on his skin in mournful accusation. More than ever, his lack of power and inability to protect her were made painfully evident with each scalding drop.

Tightening his arms around her, he murmured words Shuurei thought she'd never hear.

"I don't know," he husked brokenly, I don't know."