A/N: Hello! I am truly sorry for how long it has taken me to update. I never imagined it would take me a whole eleven months, but I lost interest in writing for a while and nothing I produced was worthy to be published.

So, thank you for your patience! I hope you enjoy the chapter.

allyelle~

I thought that spring must last forevermore,

for I was young and loved, and it was May.

—Vera Brittain

.:. 14 .:.

Seiji Komori adored weddings. He adored the love, the smiles, the merriment! He adored casting the tie between two souls, being the matchmaker for a happy, long, prosperous life. Years later, he would often see the product of his matches sitting in his school room, or his church. It was a rewarding job, and nothing had made the old clergyman happier than conducting the vows for his only child… however the fate of the union.

He did not feel dissimilar now, flicking through the pages of his sermon. The May sunbeams came in magic hues through the stained-glass, warm against Seiji's fingers. Apple blossoms littered the church yard like confetti, blackened scraps trodden throughout the aisles. A broom was Sora's constant companion, sweeping and sweeping until his hands blistered.

The wedding of Master Shu and Lady Mirai was the event of the year. No expense had been spared; the village was blooming with colour, the sweet scent of flowers refreshing all stenches of life. For the past month, Seiji had been the ear to gushing wives, weeping maidens and to grumbling labourers. No greater delight, envy or effort had been invested into the people since the wedding of Lord Karl Sakamaki and Lady Christa over two decades prior.

Master Shu was a good man, and he would be glad to see him finally wed. Yui had expressed her delight on her last visit, and Seiji wondered whether she would make an appearance. He was one of her oldest friends and there was nothing more she adored than the celebrations of May Day.

The spectacle of his daughter's letter faded, like winter melts into spring. Other gossips took its pedestal, but still she remained the girl with the scarlet letter, the whore, the wild thing in the woods. But May was a time for forgiveness, for new beginnings, and for hope. She deserved to bathe in the sunshine after a cruel winter, no matter her sins.

"Dearly beloved," Seiji began, his voice booming in the empty church room. "We are gathered here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this man and woman in holy matrimony…"

The streak of sun was nearing central, cutting his body in half.

Midday; it was almost time.

.:.

Five months had passed since the birth of her daughter and Yui Komori had settled into a mundane routine of early starts and late nights. She attended to the whims of Eve, visited the market once a week, made pennies from her needlework, and from the warmer weather, took daily strolls through the forest. It was a wonderland in spring; green leaves canopied above their heads, allowing spots of light to shine through; flowers shook off the cold and sprouted beneath their feet; the riverbank bubbled, and orange fish leaped.

Eve had grown and fattened, making her mother's arms ache. Her face was bright with new personality, her teethless smile full of mischief. She had begun to crawl and grab, and her curiosity was often dangerous. Sora found entertainment in teaching her words, and she would mirror in strange, yet similar sounds.

Spring was always a time when Yui was at her happiest. She no longer shivered when the sun vanished from the sky, the world was rich with colour, and her belly was frequently full with the fruits from the new harvest. This year, however, she could not relax. Many months had passed since her visit to the castle, but nothing had occurred—no punishment, no threats… everything was calm. She was playing a waiting game, always sick with worry, always trying to silence her beating heart. It was torturous.

Suddenly, there was a series of drumming thumps followed by a sharp cry; Yui exhaled and opened the door.

"Subaru," she said, weary. "Please do not knock so loud. You will wake her."

Yui rushed to the cot to calm her screaming, red-faced child.

Subaru hovered in the doorway and scanned the cottage: across the piles of unfinished needlework on the rocker, its hinges squeaking in the open-door breeze. The unmade bed, the dishes stacked underneath the cupboard ready to be washed in the stream. Yui's frock was splotched in baby-stains, her long hair hastily thrown into a spilling bun. Subaru, meanwhile, had spent his morning being bathed, groomed, dressed, lectured on his behaviour and given a list of rules to abide by for the ceremony.

"Oi. You plannin' on going looking like that?"

Yui retreated from the cradle and looked down upon herself. "Sorry?"

Subaru closed the door, wishing he had the ability to slouch lest prise the buttons from his waistcoat. "The wedding," he elaborated, but gathered no response. "Fuck. You're coming, right?"

Yui grimaced and busied herself in the kitchen. "No, no, I am not. It would not be wise." She turned and strained a smile. "But do not let my absence dampen your day, Subaru. A wedding… oh, what a wonderful occasion! I wish them every happiness."

"Yeah, well, I didn't come to check," he scoffed. "I just wanna get this over with. Here—"

Out of his saddlebag he withdrew a bundled cloth; the fabric was dampened by the hot steam wafting delicious smells of custard and candied-apple. A pie, freshly stolen from the castle's oven.

"Thank you…" she murmured, though she possessed no appetite.

Subaru grunted and stepped to the door.

"Wait!" Yui exclaimed. He turned and eyed her, uneased by her rush of panic. "Did… did he…"

"What? Spit it out. I haven't got all day."

Yui gave another tiny, fractured smile. "Nothing."

Subaru hesitated before he spoke. "He ain't happy about this, y'know. Marriage… is just another bar for our cage. Or," he smirked, "another nail for our coffin, depending on the bitch."

The door slammed, and Yui cringed at Eve's budding shrieks.

.:.

A hooded figure wove through the market-streets, the late-spring heat high and rippling the festival's colours. He walked with slow and aimless footing, uninterested in any of the wares thrust at him.

Shu Sakamaki was wanted in the tavern, for a groom-to-be should be guzzling wine, flirting with whores and making merry during his last hours of bachelorhood. Yet, each second felt closer to eternal incarceration. He would rather be alone, unknown and forgettable, listening to the ballads of lutes.

"Come get ye flowers! Daffodils, roses, tulips!" The flower-merchant beckoned at a wealthy gentleman and his sulking wife. "You, sir! Won't you buy some of these pretty wares? They're sure to make your lovely lady smile!"

Shu tugged his hood downwards and stared at the tiny blue clumps of forget-me-nots.

"Here," Yui Komori had once said, on a May Day during their youth. She gave the merchant a penny and a smile and plucked a single bud. "They match your eyes, and now we match a little, see?"

She stretched and tucked the flower behind his ear.

Yui was once the village treasure, and most years, crowned the queen of May, sitting on her throne of blooms and throwing bashful kisses to all who could catch them. He had liked to watch her cast her ribbon and dance around the maypole, round and round, smirking at the occasional glimpse of thigh. Yui had worn her hair long, half-braided and woven in a rainbow of flowers. Her dress was thin and as white as a pearl; she was goddess-like.

"Won't you dance with me, Shu?" she had asked, flushed and beaming, kindly rejecting the offers from many young men.

"No…" he said, pushing a reluctant, cursing Subaru to dance in his place. "I can see your legs much better from over here."

Her expression was forlorn, but at the time, he hadn't cared. Dancing was bothersome and the celebrations were noisy. He had taken shade in an awning and watched from afar. If he had known the girl's freedom was impermanent, would he still have refused?

Suddenly, Shu could feel the heat of another's eyes. Strange, he thought, for a man concealed beneath a cloak. Nevertheless, he turned, expecting Subaru to have seen through his disguise, but it was not.

There Yui Komori stood, a decade wearier, with a face as grave as stone. All of that unbridled freedom was gone; her hair was scarfed and tied, her dress heavy and brown. She was not the spirited, frolicking creature he once knew.

"Shu—"

"You should not have come," he snapped.

"I should not," she replied, her body jerked closer by the bustling crowd. "But I wanted to see the flowers. It has been a long winter."

"There are flowers in every inch of this street," Shu said, "and still you do not smile."

She smiled, then. "Forget-me-nots," she said, purchasing a bunch. She tucked one into his breast pocket and handed him the remainder. "You are a kind man, Shu… show her some of it."

Her hand lingered on his breast, hesitant, as though the fabric was the skin of a poisonous fruit. The infant she carried stared up at him, blinking, its limbs fighting to escape the swaddle of blankets. Perhaps it was envious of the vibrant flowers he beheld. He offered them, but Eve thrashed them away. No, she was curious about the rose-coloured jewel circling his pinky finger.

"You have no need for such a thing anymore," Yui muttered, prising Eve's hand away.

Shu sighed. "Stupid woman… has the pollen damaged your brain? One does not wear a wedding band on their pinky. So," he drawled, "I'll wear this crude thing… a while longer."

"It is not right!" Yui protested.

Shu, finding no interest in extending the argument, turned away. "If you are done admiring this fickle sight, take the child and leave." His voice was cold. "I do not want you here."

His words stung not because of their cruelty, but because of the memory it triggered.

The night before her own wedding, Yui Komori recalled being fiercely afraid. She lay in bed, ruled by her thoughts. This is the last time I shall sleep alone. My sleep shall be secondary to my husband's desire. I shall be with child within the year, and I could be dead like my dear mother.

Yui could stand it no more; she slipped to the floor and pulled on garments at random. Choked with tears, she ran to the only place she knew. The forest, with its soothing, nocturnal whispers and trees huddled together like kin, the air was still. Yui slumped down to the floor, dirtying her nightdress in a puddle of leaves. She had made her choice to marry, but decided to allow herself a night to be afraid; a night to wail for her freedom and innocence.

The leaves crunched, startling her.

"They say brides are to weep on their wedding day," a voice droned. "This is… premature."

Yui's mouth worked, but could make no answer. She could scarcely decipher the man in the dark-green blackness, but she could recognise that voice anywhere. Shu Sakamaki, rarely horseless, towered over her, his clothes reeking of all the smells familiar to the tavern: smoke, perfume, ale. He took up a seat against the opposite tree.

Neither spoke for a time, but his silent company calmed her.

"Talk, woman," he finally said. "Or I will head home and leave you and your cries to attract the attention of a bear. He will not be as good a listener as I."

Yui swallowed. "I… I am afraid," she murmured, wrapping her arms around her knees. "What if Reiji is unkind to me? I have heard all sorts of wedding-night horrors from the ladies about town… Oh, Shu, I have never even been kissed! I wanted it to be… special."

Yui blushed once she had finished. Aloud, her fears were child-like. No woman in this world could hope to live a fairytale. When had she convinced herself that she, a mere peasant, could do so? She had brought this anguish upon herself. But… her father was happy, and that was all that mattered.

Shu stifled a laugh. Frowning, Yui leapt to her feet.

"Shu…!"

"Come here," he commanded, and she stumbled over, ripping her stockings on an upright branch. She knelt before him. "You claim to be an innocent woman, but you came here seeking my lips, didn't you?"

"I did no such thing—!"

"Hah…" he breathed, and Yui could detect the sour stench of alcohol on his breath as he arched forward. He touched his palm to her cheek, his lips grazing the hollow of her hand. "A kiss…" he whispered, "is a lord special enough?"

Her insides were wild, her skin hot, her heartbeat drumming in her ears. Shu clasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger, running the pad along her lower-lip. Close, she could see the navy glimmer of his eyes and the moon-cast shadows dancing across his features.

"Are you still afraid?"

"Never of you."

He kissed her, tentative and tender, a kiss not fuelled by the ache of desire, but by the transient joy of beholding something soon to be lost forever.

They separate when salty liquid runs between their lips. Yui, ashamed of her weeping, darts her eyes away. Shu had not calmed her, after all. His kiss had driven her mind into further unease.

"P-Please," she implored, trembling, "do not come tomorrow. I do not want you there."

He had tempted her with a kiss and so he could tempt her resolve.

She wriggled the rose-quartz jewel from her finger and returned it to him, placing it in his palm like a pearl on the tongue of an oyster.

.:.

The church bells chimed after midday, its ringing travelling to the furthest corner of the village. Lord and Lady Sakamaki were married. Yui Komori heard the echos of laughter, clapping, and the burgeoning ballads of lutes from the alleyway where she hid, but what she could not escape was Eve's relentless weeping.

"I know, my darling," Yui soothed. "...I know."