Chapter 5

Shirayuki dashed into a smattering of trees. She had no idea where she was headed, only needing somewhere to bawl her eyes out in peace without any prying eyes to speculate on the cause of her distress. The sedate woodlands decorating the wider grounds of the palace were rarely traveled, and so it was in that direction she had blindly run towards after jumping out the window and sprinting from the pharmacy building. She burst into a clearing and almost wanted to laugh at the sight of a familiar courtyard, the very same one where her ill-fated romance with Zen had begun.

How ironic.

She sniffled and meandered over to the bench, taking comfort in the familiar sturdiness of the stone as she drew her knees up and buried her face. She squeezed her eyes shut and quietly cried, allowing the shame, humiliation, and heartbreak to pass through.

'This is all a misunderstanding.'

His words smashed a gaping hole into her heart. She had thought—what had she thought, exactly? That he was going to declare his undying love for her and propose on the spot? He would never marry her, could never marry her, and Shirayuki was a fool for even beginning to think otherwise. Just becoming Zen's duchess had seemed a monumental task.

A pharmacist and daughter of a disgraced nobleman becoming the Queen? Ha!

The fact that he returned at least some of her feelings meant nothing, as it was abundantly clear that all she could be was his mistress. Which she would not do, no matter how much she loved him. Some women were willing to do it, and they certainly weren't lesser for it, but she knew she wouldn't be able to handle it; wouldn't be able to watch him marry another woman, wouldn't be able to watch her children jockey against the legitimate heirs for their father's attention and hope that any titles conferred on them would be enough to keep them safe from the bloodshed of a succussion crisis.

No, she refused to play that game.

"Stupid, stupid girl," she whimpered into her leggings.

"What happened?"

Shirayuki looked up at the sudden voice and smiled despite herself. "Obi."

Her best friend peered at her from his perch atop a nearby tree, a concerned frown marring his features. He dropped from the branch and walked towards her. Looking her up and down, his gaze paused at her neck and the disheveled buttons of her coat. His eyes narrowed, growing so icy it nearly took her aback. "Has someone forced themselves on you?"

She blinked before registering his meaning. "Oh! No! I…" She felt heat creeping up her neck. "It was consensual."

His entire body seemed to deflate in relief. He sat down next to her and rested his hand on his chin. "So, Elder Highness made a mess of things again, didn't he?"

She started. "How did you…?"

He leaned back on his hands and gave her a teasing smile. "I've seen the way you look at him. You've only ever looked at one other person like that."

"Am I that obvious?" Anxiety roiled in her belly at the thought of her silly feelings being so blatant.

"Only to anyone who knows you well," he reassured, though the words were far from comforting.

She put her hands over her reddening face. "This is so embarrassing."

He patted her head with a sigh. "I take it that the pharmacy's ridiculous scheme to lock you two together and hope for the best didn't work out?"

She glared at him through her fingers. "You knew and didn't warn me?"

Obi shrugged. "I couldn't think of a better plan that would dissuade them." He donned a cat-like smile. "Looks like it worked at least somewhat, if that massive spot on your neck is anything to go by."

Shirayuki squeaked and placed a hand over where Izana had bitten into her skin. The memory of his teeth grazing her sensitive flesh still burned her insides. She crossed her arms, focusing on her ire in order to block out the memory. "You sound as if you want me to become his mistress."

"Mistress?" He titled his head. "Who said anything about that?"

"What else would I be?"

"The queen?"

The absurdity of it all made her laugh, an ugly sarcastic sound that boomed through the clearing. "You don't seriously believe that, do you?"

"You really think he doesn't want to marry you," Obi mumbled, seeming to talk more to himself than to her. He placed his forearms on his knees, leaning forward and piercing her with a probing stare. "Tell me exactly what happened."

She told him the tale, omitting the more intimate parts for the sake of her own sanity. Obi scrubbed his hands over his face. "I never thought I'd find someone worse at this than Zen. It must run in the family." He looked at her, his gaze pointed. "Look, its obvious to everyone that your madly in love with each other. Just talk to him"

"I have."

He rolled his eyes. "No. He said a handful of words to you, none of which showed his intentions. He was probably flustered. Hell, I would be flustered if Mitsuhide of all people walked in on me."

The words made sense, and Shirayuki almost always trusted Obi's judgement on most things. But that persistent fear remained lodged in her heart. What if she dared to hope, only to be correct in her initial judgment? She remembered how hard it had been to confess to Zen, to put her feelings in his hands and hope for the right outcome, even if she didn't truly understand what that would be. She knew exactly what she wanted from Izana, and chances were better than not of him not being able to give it to her.

She leaned onto Obi's side, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm scared."

"And since when has that ever stopped you, hm?" He replied lightly, wrapping an arm around her. "I know your stronger than that. You know your stronger than that."

Shirayuki clenched her hands. Where had this cowardly girl come from? Since when did she let the opinion of aristocrats sway her actions? She sat up straight and banged her fists on her knees. "This is ridiculous! I'll make him tell me what he wants and be done with it."

"That's my girl." He grinned, smacking a flat palm on her back.

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"You embarrass yourself in front of the entire court?"

She smacked his shoulder with a huff. "Not helping."

"I know exactly when you should do it, too."

His voice contained a long familiar mischief, and was almost too afraid to ask. "When?"

"The betrothal ball is only a week away, correct?"

The spit caught in her throat. "You cannot be serious?"

He winked and gave her a lopsided smile. "Absolutely, my future queen."