A/N: Happy Saturday! Let's get right into it. I haven't made any progress on Chapter 15 today and I'm so freakin close to finishing, I mean I stopped right before The Wedding, that close. Thanks to Zain for the review! I swear Kanade was made for the role of Da Vinci based on that scene alone. And you just know when Naoi says "let's say... God..." all doubtfully, a part of him is thinking "wait that's me!" I had a lot of fun with this chapter so it hope this one can boost your week too.

Enjoy!

[Chapter 7]: Wealthy Benefactor

The Marquis Ooyama was a shy and average-looking youth. With his small stature, messy brown hair, and innocent childlike eyes, even in his courtier status he was easy to underestimate.

And in tennis, that was usually his opponent's downfall.

Prince Ayato mildly wished he'd been given fair warning about Ooyama's skills – other than the smirk Hinata had given him before he handed out the first tennis ball. But despite the idiot's amused looks from the sidelines, Ayato thought he was getting in a few good hits. The problem lay in the fact that Ooyama was adept at knocking them right back with remarkable speed and precision. He barely had time to wipe the sweat from his brow.

Not one to be outsmarted, he followed Ooyama's eyes to the side wall just before a serve, and darted up to lob it back when it ricocheted. It rebounded off the wall onto Ooyama's side and the marquis rushed to meet it, smacking it back directly at Ayato with unexpected force. Lunging for it, the prince didn't even let it hit the ground.

Each swing had the crowd of mostly women exclaiming feverishly from the balcony and the seating area. Considering how fast the word had spread of his canceled engagement, he suspected many had come to personally congratulate or console him after the match.

But was she one of them…?

A tennis ball smacking against the stone wall above his head shook him back into the present. He should have been watching for that! Cursing under his breath, he scrambled to catch up with the ball as it soared to the other corner of the court. His racket made contact but his focus came at a cost – he didn't notice the court boundary until he'd crashed sideways through the netting and into his shrieking audience.

A sea of chattering courtiers surrounded him, squealing and trying to "assist" him as he rolled off the royal guard he'd knocked over. Ayato reddened furiously and stumbled to his feet, flinging off the tangled netting while the ladies continued to giggle and gush. Perhaps it was fortunate if the countess had missed the match after all… not one of his finest moments.

After retrieving his racket from the guard, Ayato brushed himself off and stepped back onto the court with as much dignity as he could muster. The idiot Hinata was grinning at him. He rolled his eyes and prepared himself for Ooyama's next serve.

Except Ooyama didn't have the ball. He smiled politely and pointed over his shoulder with a nod. Curious, Ayato glanced behind him.

Waiting patiently in front of the window netting, ball in hand, was the ever-smirking Hisako Fukuda. She held it out to him like a piece of forbidden fruit.

Hm. She certainly knows to make an appearance, he conceded, and allowed himself to be lured over amidst the crowd's gasps.

Ayato could admit she was something of a vision, which became clearer as he slowly approached. A wine-colored velvet dress hugged her slender build, and her fringe was pulled back with the rest of her golden brown locks in a beaded hairnet, revealing more of her seductive silver eyes. And going by her neckline, that wasn't the only thing she was revealing today.

"You're looking well, Hisako," he said, taking the ball from her.

Hisako coolly raised an eyebrow, then met his gaze with a coquettish smile. "You're welcome to look, Your Highness."

Ayato chuckled nervously and rejoined Ooyama on the court. Hisako was an attractive woman, but there was something else about her he couldn't put his finger on. Something that didn't match up. Something in her eyes.

Or maybe it was just that they weren't Ehana's.

While the Fukudas contentedly forgot their financial troubles in favor of the tennis match, Yuri and the Iwasawas were at the marketplace tending to their stand. Shiina was cooing after her wooden animal sculptures that sometimes fetched a small price. Beside her, Masami sang softly to the chickens while she readied the fruit display.

The sounds heartened Yuri as she sifted through corn kernels and shoveled them into canisters. They were the bright spots of market day. On a great week, Masami's voice would drift out like a siren call and draw in a sizeable crowd of eager customers. But to Yuri, these were sounds of peace, and good company. She smiled to herself as the chickens clucked back, then dumped another cup into the canister.

But presently there came the worst sound she dreaded to hear on market day, a sound that made her very soul curdle.

"Yuri Nakamura," purred a raspy, rumbling voice from behind. "You get prettier every week."

Her name falling from his sour tongue sent a tremor of disgust through her spine. "And you, Mr. Tomita, are wasting your flattery," she said sharply, plastering a cordial smile on her face.

Daishi Tomita strolled up to the stand with his lackeys, forever reeking of cigar smoke and whiskey. A wealthy goateed lecher, Tomita was an unfortunate regular at their stand, so Yuri knew from experience that the hunger in his beady black eyes was not reserved for the cornmeal.

"What a pity your soil's the best in the province," he said, curling a lip under his cherished handlebar mustache, "and yet… so poorly tended."

"We have limited resources, sir," Masami said, her tone falsely chipper as she came up next to Yuri and wrapped a protective arm around her. She'd clearly had enough of Tomita's shameless leering. "But we always do our best."

"Anything I can do?" Tomita asked, not taking his eyes off Yuri. Masami was a known beauty, but she was all of twenty-four; Yuri had a sneaking suspicion he liked them younger.

Shiina, who'd been glaring from her woodwork display, joined the girls with a whittling knife still in her grip.

"I suggest you bring it up with the baroness," she warned, "and stick to shopping."

"I'd rather discuss it with Yuri if you don't mind," Tomita replied, watching Shiina's blade with some wariness as Yuri started shucking corn. "I may be twice your age, dearie, but I'm well endowed…"

Yuri made eye contact and violently broke off the corn husk in one hard snap. One of the lackeys gulped.

"As evidenced by my estate," Tomita added innocently.

Having had enough of him for the day, Yuri turned away, desperately hoping he would get bored of playing cat and mouse with her soon enough. Shiina acted as shield and guided her towards the fruit display. Unfortunately, the resolute stench of smoke and musk followed closely after.

"I've always had a soft spot for the less fortunate," the man continued, licking his lips as he towered over her. "You need a wealthy benefactor, and I need a lady with spirit."

Yuri feigned a curious glance over their stock, then smiled brightly and lifted a basket. "No spirit. How about some prunes?"

Tomita snarled, his jaw clenched in an impatient scowl.

"No," he said through his teeth. "In fact, I think I'll pass for this week. Perhaps in that time you'll remember that without my generosity, your pathetic little farm would cease to exist." He spat the threat like poison, and caught her eye with a meaningful eyebrow raise. "So I'd be very, very careful if I were you."

With one last sneer, he gestured to his lackeys and skulked away from their stand, disappearing into the crowd.

Once he was gone, Masami made a small sound of disgust.

"Can you believe that guy?" she muttered. "If he didn't buy a bushel of vegetables from us every week, I'd… spit on him."

"I think he'd enjoy that." Shiina sat down and started whittling again, this time more furiously.

Yuri stood in one spot, staring at the place where Tomita had been. The loathsome bastard was gone, but so was his business. And his threat lingered. Though she hated to admit it, he was absolutely right – it was his patronage that practically funded their estate. Hinami wouldn't be pleased that she'd insulted their best customer. Or at least, that's how she would take it.

In fact, how far would Hinami go to take Tomita's side? Would she argue that it sounded like a good business deal? Would she be willing to hand over one of her young and able-bodied servants… her own stepdaughter?

She had a bad feeling she didn't want to know the answer. But hopefully she would mean a little more to the baroness than that.

If there was one thing Prince Ayato would've traded for in this world, forsaking his crown and the power it carried, hands down it would have to be the talent of hypnotism.

He'd thought so even as a young boy, when he was playing in the ruins with his brother and would've done anything for a way to convince his bullheaded father to let them stay for five more minutes. Or, when he was older and Hinata would catch him trying to sneak out, he'd begrudgingly return to bed and dream of lulling him into a trance where he was a dog and a torch was his beloved bone. With an ability such as this, he could even successfully trick his father into extending the five day search for a bride.

Of course, while he'd long desired this power and wished for it to be real, never once did he voice it out loud. King Kimito would only chastise him for the millionth time about keeping his head in the clouds and always dreaming up impossible things.

But presently Ayato thought that hypnotism must in fact be possible. Because he was now strolling through the marketplace with Hisako by his side, and he hadn't the foggiest idea what had compelled him to do this.

It wasn't just that he was inexperienced in the art of courtship. Especially with his entourage at their heels, which incidentally did nothing for his nerves. Nor was it an issue with her looks. She'd been granted a warm and simple beauty in life but she knew what to do with it, what features to accentuate, how to carry herself.

However, there was a certain… tension between them, one that made him painfully aware of the endgame here. He couldn't tell if he was the only one picking up on it. When he'd been with Ehana yesterday and the day before, he had also felt tension. But it was exciting – and at the same time oddly comfortable. Walking with Hisako was neither of these things.

As it was, despite her casual elegance and alluringly husky voice, it was hard to get to know the girl very well. The most she had to offer was polite small talk and airy chuckles at his feeble attempts at humor. Not exactly a spirited conversationalist, as apparently it was his job to talk and hers to demurely agree. Maybe offer a saucy comment he didn't know what to do with.

Honestly, he was terrible at this.

If she sensed the awkwardness as well, she didn't show it. She merely smiled and kept by his side, basking in his company. Or the attention of the onlookers. Because he was the prince, and she walked like she knew she was born to be queen. Going by the way her smile did not reach her eyes, that was almost certainly what this was.

But at least it would be a marriage of his choice.

He'd be a fool to expect anything more at the beginning, anyway. For now he had a few days to break the ice. An attendant, possibly sensing his floundering, handed him a silver tray filled with chocolate-covered squares and nodded to Hisako. Ayato took the hint and turned to present it to her.

"Here," he said, trying to sound like his usual confident self. "You've never tasted anything like this before."

At first Hisako seemed like she was going to reach for one, then there was a small cough and she looked questioningly at the baroness. Recovering with a smile, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth.

Ayato nearly recoiled with displeasure, shooting a bemused glimpse at Hinata who was of course grinning and waggling his eyebrows, like: What are you waiting for? Feed the lady!

Hesitantly, he took a small square from the tray and passed it through her lips. She sighed in bliss, chewing and savoring. Yui eagerly tried to help herself as well but the baroness snatched her hand in mid-air.

"Don't even think about it," she muttered under her breath. Yui whined sadly and backed off, throwing longing looks at the tray.

Meanwhile, her elder sister was still relishing in the taste. Ayato furrowed his eyebrows as he watched her. How long did it take to eat a wafer the size of his thumbnail?

"Do you… like it?" he asked after a moment.

"Like it?" Hisako echoed, swallowing. "It's positively sinful. What is it?"

He felt himself relax as they started walking again. "KeyKats," he said, handing the tray back to his attendant (Hinata quickly intercepted). "The Tobans keep sending bricks of it..."

And for a minute or so, Hisako listened politely while he blathered on about their variety of flavors to kill the silence. Then as they rounded a corner and weaved through a few produce stands, her eyes lit up for the first time that afternoon.

"These are our servants, Your Highness," she said to him, gesturing ahead with a smile.

"Really?" he asked, utterly relieved at the change of subject. "I'd love to meet them."

She escorted him towards the center booth, where a young woman with chin-length magenta hair was packing corn into canisters while she hummed a pretty tune. Her eyes lifted and caught Hisako's at first, but grew large at the sight of the prince. Her hum dying in her throat, she sharply elbowed the middle-aged navy-haired woman shucking corn next to her until she glanced up as well. The same ruby eyes widened in shock.

He wasn't too offended by their reaction; it seemed he had that kind of effect on her family's servants. At least they weren't reaching for the apples just yet.

"Good day, ladies," Ayato said carefully, attempting to put them at ease with a disarming smile.

A lot of good it did him. He'd barely taken another step before pandemonium ensued. There was a gasp and a flash of magenta hair, and then feathers and corn went flying everywhere as a chicken catapulted into his face in a hurricane of flaps and indignant squawks. Ayato yelped and stumbled backwards into Hinata and Hisako trying to shield his face from claws and corn cobs.

"What are you doing?" the baroness exploded, hastening to the scene. "Trying to scare the prince to death?!"

Hinata and the guards managed to steady Ayato, who pulled himself together and stared at the two grey-clad servants in a lingering state of bewilderment.

"We were just startled, is all," the younger one said, blushing rosier than her hair.

Ayato blinked a few times and then squinted suspiciously. If he was truly so frightening, it seemed to him a bit of a delayed reaction. And then… come to think of it, he could've sworn the servant he'd seen out of the corner of his eye was wearing blue, and had hair a darker shade of magenta.

Maybe it was the lighting, but…

He stepped forward, still brushing a few seeds and dirt off his coat, and silently counted them. His head was still spinning but that was supposed to make him see more people, not less.

"Were there just the two of you?" he asked, brow furrowing slightly.

The elder of the two gave a solemn nod. "And the chicken, Your Highness," she added as an afterthought.

Ayato closed his eyes and rubbed at his temple, loosening a feather from his hair. He wouldn't press the matter; Hisako looked mortified enough as it was. Meanwhile Yui, who had somehow gotten her share of KeyKats, was discreetly licking chocolate from her fingers while she watched this play out.

He wasn't interested in making a scene, so he elected to graciously dismiss it as a mutual scare and move on. Whatever it took to end the tense staring match between Hisako and Masami (as the baroness so shrilly addressed her).

But he did wonder, as they continued their trek through the marketplace, if it was the apple girl he had seen for a flicker of an instant. If she'd taken one look at him and fled in terror – a reasonable response in itself. Then again, it could also be as simple as him losing his mind.

Which, as of these past few days, was slightly more plausible.

A mild evening settled on the Nakamura estate, in temperature and in energy. The Fukudas had returned home in excellent spirits, and much to the relief of Yuri's conscience, there was no physical reprimand towards the Iwasawas for the incident at the marketplace. According to the baroness, the rest of the afternoon had gone swimmingly with the prince, and the incident had only made her darling daughter shine brighter as it had given them something to chuckle about.

Sure enough, Hisako saw the humor in the situation, and she'd been teasing Masami for almost two hours now. The entire day had put her in a dreadfully perfect mood.

"Is that your idea of self-defense, songbird?" the girl said gleefully, shadowing the younger Iwasawa around the dinner table with a spring in her step. "Throwing chickens at the prince?"

Yuri spared Masami one last sheepish grin as she headed to the stairs with an armful of firewood. The grin grew wider as she distinctly heard Masami mutter out of the corner of her mouth, "Well, perhaps I wondered if His Highness was interested in kissing something fowl…"

Hisako uttered an outraged gasp. "What did you say?"

There was a musical laugh and some innocent humming, and then quick scampering sounds headed in the direction of the kitchens.

"Come back here! Hey songbird, I'm talking to you!"

Positive that Masami could hold her own for now, Yuri managed to swallow her smile as she climbed the steps to her stepmother's bedchambers. It wasn't hard when her thoughts drifted to the incident in question. Today had been an extremely close call. Her heart had pounded for eons after she collapsed behind a corner and waited for the prince to leave.

She knew she'd said he and Hisako deserved each other, but she… she never thought he'd actually…

Shaking her head, she took a deep breath and rapped her knuckles tentatively on the wood of Hinami's door.

"Enter!" Hinami's voice called out with a merry trill.

Yuri balanced the wood in one arm and pushed the door open, then gave the woman a polite nod on her way to the fireplace. "Evening, stepmother."

"A very good evening it is." Hinami sighed in happiness. She was lounging on her bed with her long brown curls free from its headdress, awaiting their nightly brushing. "Oh, what a day! You should have seen them, Yuri. Anyone with eyes could tell it was a smart match. And poor Ayato didn't know what hit him… I dare say Hisako had him eating out of the palm of her hand."

By the sounds of it Hinami was talking just at the concept of an audience, so Yuri quietly let her ramble as she set the wood on the fire. Behind her, Hinami fell back against the bed with another joyous sigh like a child whose shooting star wish had finally been granted.

"We must press for a quick engagement!" Her hair blanketed the edge of the bed, and candied eyes began to shine. "Shibuya at Christmas. Can you imagine?"

Was that a real question? Yuri turned around more fully and forced a smile on her face.

Hinami's expression lost its glow as she also realized who she was talking to.

"No," she conceded, releasing a slow breath. "No, of course you can't."

Her own smile fading, Yuri rubbed awkwardly at her arms. The extra logs did nothing for the added chill in the air.

Hinami pushed herself off the bed with a sigh.

"My mother was hard on me too, you know," she said, gliding gracefully over to her vanity chair and sitting down. Motioning to the brush, she splayed out her hair and closed her eyes. "She taught me that cleanliness was next to godliness. She forced me to wash my face at least twenty times a day…" she paused for a reminiscent laugh, "and yet, it was never clean enough."

Wiping her soot-covered hands off on her apron, Yuri took the brush and silently set to work. But as she brushed, she did listen. Hinami had never spoken of her own mother before. It was hard to think of the woman as a child, let alone a daughter.

"But I was very grateful to her. She wanted me to be all that I could be." Her voice grew quiet as she gazed thoughtfully into the crackling fire. "And here I am, a baroness. And Hisako shall be Ayato's queen." She closed her eyes in silent pride. "There's no man better for her."

Such confidence…

Yuri began brushing more vigorously, only for Hinami's hand to take her wrist in mid-swipe. She guided Yuri around to face her, then gently brought her to kneel so that she was at eye level.

Stunned, Yuri couldn't look away. Her stepmother's eyes had always matched Yui's in color, but this was the first time they'd been as gentle.

"Pity you never knew your mother," Hinami said softly. "There must be so much of her in you. Inside and out."

Yuri blinked, a lump forming in her throat at the baroness's unexpected sentiment. What did Hinami know of her mother? She herself barely knew the woman, though she dared to use her name. It was enough to blanket Yuri's grief in a layer of guilt.

"I wish I remembered what she was like." Her voice cracked.

"Yes. But we must never feel sorry for ourselves, must we?" Hinami said, raising a prim eyebrow. "No matter how bad things get, they can always get worse."

"Yes, ma'am." Yuri averted her gaze, starting to mentally berate herself for falling for that. But then Hinami took her chin in her fingers and turned it back to her, studying her face some more.

"But your father..." Hinami softened again. Maybe it was a trick of the firelight, but Yuri might've sworn she saw the woman's lip quiver slightly. "Sometimes, I can almost see him looking out through your eyes."

Emotion prickled in Yuri's chest, the warmth traveling to her cheeks as her face broke into a smile.

"Really?" she whispered. She couldn't remember the last time Hinami even spoke of her father, let alone so affectionately.

"Yes, well…" The woman's voice wavered as she ran a finger along Yuri's cheek. "Your features are so sharp, and… masculine. And, well, to be raised by a man…" Retracting her touch, she clapped Yuri on the shoulder. "No wonder you're built for hard labor."

She stiffened at her touch, searching her stepmother's face for traces of what might've been there.

"Did you love my father?" Yuri asked quietly. Hinami bit her lip.

"I barely knew him," she replied, and gave a wave of her hand as she looked back at the fireplace. Her eyes grew distant again. "Now go away. I'm tired."

Nodding in resignation, Yuri bowed goodnight and numbly showed herself out.

So that's that, then…

The prince would marry Hisako (which was sensible, really), the baroness's dreams would come true, and Kaishou Nakamura and everything about him would be nothing but a ghost to her. As it always had been. The manor could go to Yuri, where at least she could keep him alive in the pages of her books and the toil of his fields. And all would be as it should be.

Yuri sat down at the hearth with a sigh, scratching Mamoru behind the ears. Feelings never solved anything, anyway.

It would simply have to do.

A/N: Don't drag me about the KeyKat thing XD As always, let me know if you spot any errors or inconsistencies! FFN loves to randomly mash two words together for some reason and I don't always catch it.

Until next time!