Chapter 3

Her teacher was up to something, Shirayuki was certain of it. Earlier, Garak had whispered into Yatsufusa's ear, the man's face mottling in confusion and then embarrassment as their boss finished whatever she had said and handed him a note to be delivered. Shirayuki would have thought nothing of it, had her coworker not darted a blushing glance her way as he passed by and out the door. For the past ten minutes after, Garak had occasionally looked at her from over her mug, sporting the satisfied smirk she always wore when up to mischief.

"Do you know what she's up to?" Shirayuki murmured to Ryuu, who stood across from her at a work table.

He glanced up from his notes like a startled animal and bit his lip. "No idea." He looked back down at his papers, scribbling furiously and saying nothing further. She whipped her head towards the corner of the room at the sound of a smothered snort. Yuzuri sat face down at the far desk, her shoulders shaking and Suzu smacking the top of her head with a glare. He noticed Shirayuki staring and gave her what was possibly the fakest smile she had ever seen from him along with a cheerful wave.

"Shirayuki," Garak called before she could question the pair. "I have a task for you. It's to do with the wedding."

Wary, she stood. "What is it?"

"I was wondering if you could inspect the flowers. I thought I saw some spots on a few."

"I already checked on them this morning." There was no way a disease would show up on the carefully cultivated blooms within the span of a few hours.

"Do it anyway, if you please." Garak smiled blandly.

Shirayuki narrowed her eyes. What was the woman up to? "Very well."

"Go with her, Ryuu. It's good to have another opinion for these things."

Her former supervisor hesitated a moment and coughed. "Yes, of course."

They made their way into the hall and, after the door shut, Shirayuki swore she heard the frantic sound of chairs scraping along the floor.

"I wonder what the head pharmacists saw. I think we should hurry," Ryuu said, his voice just loud enough to overshadow whatever commotion she had left behind.

"Ok," she said with a confused sigh, deciding to go along with whatever prank her coworkers were attempting to pull. Goodness knew she needed something to lift her spirits. Avoiding His Majesty had become almost painful. She missed their friendship, and the thought of losing his esteem entirely had settled a melancholy over her heart that had only festered as the week drug on. Kihal and Zen's nuptials were still a ways away, so, aside from the flowers, Shirayuki had only her work at the pharmacy to distract her from her aching heart and the whispers of the palace. Everyone seemed to think there was only a platonic falling out, at least. Anyone finding out otherwise would be an unmitigated disaster.

They continued outside and down the path to the hothouse where the wedding flowers were kept, Ryuu staying suspiciously silent beside her. She hid a smile at his antics. He never could handle mischief well, and it was always funny to see him flustered in these situations. Shirayuki had to admit to being touched that her coworkers were making such an effort to cheer her. She could only hope that her mood hadn't impacted the quality of her work enough to be a noticeable problem.

They crossed the threshold of the greenhouse, and, as she always did for every routine checkup, Shirayuki relished the wave of exotic scents launched at her from the blooms. Kihal had mostly desired flowers native to her region, and Shirayuki had fought tooth and nail to grant the request, to the point of insisting on cultivating the plants herself after nearly every merchant in the capital had turned up their noses at the thought of importing "simple wildflowers" from the island. And when the royal planners had attempted to push for their own "more appropriate" selections behind her back, she'd had to go over their heads and have the king himself approve the plans. It had made her few friends and helped reinforce their opinion of her as a social climber who fell back on the favoritism of the royal family rather than her own merit. But if it meant that Kihal would have the day she wanted, Shirayuki didn't care what anyone thought.

"They really are coming along, aren't they?" Ryuu said.

She took another satisfied inhale and surveyed the room. "Yes, they've done even better than I was expecting." After two months of painstaking work and more than a little aid from Yuzuri, the collection of blooms was impressive. Vibrant pinks and reds illuminated the room, a combination of warm colors that would give the ceremony and feast a festive, cheerful air that she hoped would make Kihal feel more comfortable during the biggest transition of her life.

"You've really outdone yourself."

Shirayuki waved a dismissive hand. "Yuzuri did half the work. I wouldn't have even gotten them to sprout without her expertise." She'd had to request the botanist come all the way from Lyrias to help, though her friend had seemed more than happy to have an excuse to drag Suzu along with her for a vacation from the freezing north. Speaking of Yuzuri, Shirayuki swore she just heard the girl's hushed voice from somewhere ahead of her. "Did you hear that, Ryuu?" She turned to see him in the process of creeping back out the door.

He froze mid-step and the two stared at each other for a beat before he sprinted out and slammed the door, so loud that the bang rattled the glass paneling. "I'm sorry!"

She ran to the door to find it locked. "Ryuu what in the—" Another bang crashed through the building, no doubt from the secondary entrance on the other side of the enclosure. And then a tap on said door, accompanied by a familiar voice, one that sent her heart down to her toes.

"Miss Yuzuri? Did you just lock me in here?" His amused voice slid down he r back like a caress. "I do believe imprisoning the King is a crime of some kind."

His Majesty was locked in here. With her. Those bastards!

"Crap," she hissed and dove beneath a Hibiscus bush. If she was careful, she could run across the next aisle without him seeing and reach one of the windows on the other side. She poked her head out and peered down the row. He faced the door, hands on his hips.

"Gods its hot in here," he murmured and began slipping his coat from his shoulders. While he was distracted, she crawled across the aisle and into the leaves of some canna lilies, hoping that the sound of his rustling clothes hid her noisy dive. She heard his soft footfalls and held her breath. "Shirayuki? I can only assume they've trapped you in here with me." If she held still for long enough, he might walk past none the wiser. At least her damn hair was blending into something, for once.

"Kaw!"

Shirayuki whipped her head up at the source of the cry. Just above her, perched in an adjacent young dogwood, was Popo. "Why aren't you with Kihal?" she hissed quietly, glaring as the blue bird swayed from side to side in response. He loudly flapped his wings and let out another screech.

"He probably likes the humidity."

She jumped and nearly shrieked at his voice. She turned to see him squatting in front of her hiding spot, only a foot away. He watched Popo fly off his perch for a moment and then looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. "I must say, having a woman dive into a bush to avoid me is a first."

"I wasn't avoiding you," she stammered with an embarrassed flush.

The king chuckled and stood. "It's alright. I'm not offended." He tilted his head in consideration. "Well, maybe a little."

He was being flippant, something she learned over the years was the mechanism he used to hide his true feelings from scrutiny.

She stood and brushed the dirt from her knees, taking a bracing breath as she faced him. "Have I hurt your feelings?" She could never be anything but direct when they spoke. From their very first meeting, she had never shied away from revealing herself to him, never caring for the intricate game the nobility made of such conversations. It was a matter of survival for a king, she knew, so she never took offense when he hid from her out of habit. She grew to cherish the moments he honored her with his raw self, moments that had become more and more common over the years.

"Yes," he replied with a frown. She could think of nothing to say to his blunt answer, too hampered by guilt to formulate a response. He sighed "I'm sorry I behaved so poorly in the carriage."

"You didn't I—"

He held up a hand to stay her. "I should have made my feelings on the matter clear before you became upset."

She shook her head. "I already knew how you felt. I was a coward and didn't want to hear you reject me." She burned with shame at her feelings being so openly acknowledged in front of him. But this was a conversation that needed to happen, no matter how much she wished she could erase that night and go on as they had before. If there was any hope for their friendship, she would need to face this head on. No matter how much she cried in front of him.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

He leaned in, so close she forgot to breathe. "Do you really know how I feel?" he said softly, something dark and heady in his gaze.

She swallowed. "Ye—" He smothered the answer with his mouth. Her mind went blank. She stumbled and he wrapped an arm around her waist, his other hand cupping her cheek as his lips pressed more firmly. Everything was singing; her heart, her mind, her body. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, opening her mouth without hesitation when his tongue teased the seam of her lips. He tangled his hand into her hair and hauled her against him with a low moan, the sound shooting a jolt of pleasure through her. "Your majesty," she gasped out as his mouth left hers.

"Izana," he corrected with a playful nip on her earlobe. He buried his face into the side of her neck, his teeth grazing along the flesh. "I've always wanted to hear my name moaned from your lips."

She braced her hands on his chest, the pounding of his heart hard against her palm, and clutched the fabric of his waistcoat in her fingers as he nipped and licked a trail back up to her mouth. She pressed her thighs together against the ache pooling between her legs. His hand skimmed up her thigh, bringing the hem of her skirt along with it. She'd never gotten quite this far with Zen, but Shirayuki still knew they were headed into dangerous territory, as much as she longed to traverse it. "Izana."

"Hmm?" He fiddled with the buttons of her lab coat and palmed her breast through her dress. She forgot whatever objection to their location she had been about to voice.

"N-Never mind." She threaded her hands through his hair and pulled him back up to her mouth; her skirt inching ever higher, the front lacings of her bodice coming ever looser.

"Oh my god!"

Izana tore away from her at the sound of the voice and had her behind him before she could blink. Shirayuki clutched her bodice, heart pounding at the sight of the person standing in the now open doorway at the far end of the aisle.

Of all people to barge in on them, it just had to be Mitsuhide.