Hello again! Chapter five flowed out of me way faster this time so that's good! I'm really excited for you all to read it.
A big thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited or reviewed!
Disclaimer: Bleach and all of it's characters belong to Tite Kubo.
Warning: This is a mature story with adult themes.
Lets jump right in!-
My armor was stifling, I could feel sweat pooling at the nape of my neck. Though, with all the bodies pressed into the small stone room, I suppose I should be grateful I still had air to breathe.
Vladimir- my mighty blade- felt heavier than usual. As casually as I could, I rolled my neck. I, perhaps, should have picked a subtler weapon for today, or maybe I should have strapped the blade at my waist instead of along my back.
A skinny man, who's bones seemed near to piercing through his skin, bowed and left a basket filled with bread at the bottom of the throne steps, before retreating quickly. And as I watched him sink away, I wondered if he'd gone days without food to supply that small amount of offering.
And my complaining, suddenly, seemed like that of a spoiled child.
A woman, with a too straight nose and sunken in eyes simply stepped forward and sent a flirtatious look at the king, whom nodded, before she slipped back into the crowd, no doubt waiting to give her offering in a more private setting.
Disgust boiled in my gut before I banished it away.
My legs ached but I stood straight. How much longer could this go on? It had already been two hours of people offering what little they could, crops, money, the clothes straight off of their backs, but sometimes all they had were their lives.
The King had little usage of the old but a few had offered up their children. One young girl, who should pray that the king needed a new maid, I couldn't stomach the alternative. Plus three strong men, had already been given as workers but one small nod from me in my father's direction saved them from a long life as servants. Tomorrow they would become mine to train and shape into soldiers. Now whether that life was a long one, depended entirely on them.
Very few women were cocky enough to offer themselves to my father. Many knew how very particular the king was when it came to his women. To give the offer and be denied, with no substitute to put forward, did not end nicely for them. But Clark seemed to be in a pleasant enough mood and had turned no donation down, whether it be a sack filled with gold or a half rotted apple. The cities less fortunate, seemed to be having the most fortunate day of their lives.
"I have use of you, my dearest Heir." Clark stated over his shoulder, his attention still completely fixed on the string of people leaving gifts at his feet. "Word has reached me that there is a merchant selling stolen Southern pearls in the lower rim. He has stemmed a great profit from his efforts."
A child, barely at the age of learning to walk, held the hand of his mother as she set one single copper coin on the bottom step, and I held my breath but my father allowed her to shrink back and begin her bowed decent back into the crowd.
But it was the child I watched, and the child who watched me back.
"What is it you need done?"
He laughed under his breath, as he raised his hand to rub his chin, "I could care less about the South and their hurt pride, but I doubt this newly rich merchant has been paying his far amount in taxes. And I don't like being stolen from."
The child, who was still being pulled away, lifted his hand in a slight wave, his childlike acknowledgment of my attention.
"Devon has already been notified, and has done the necessary recon. You two will finish it tonight. And why don't you pick two of your underlings to accompany you, have them see what will be expected of them."
The boy's mother, having noticed his far away stare, having looked back to see me, observing her son, yanked him against her. To shield him from my view. "Leave it to me, Father."
A tall man, who was probably suffocating in all his thick layers, stepped forward. "Please, accept these jewels from the Eastern continent of Bellator." His voice dripped with power and echoed off the stone walls.
It was so rare of them to speak.
I studied the man as he set the jewels and rubies at Clark's feet and kneeled before the throne. Handsome, if not a bit chubby. His hair, a solid, honey gold swept down to his broad shoulders. And though he kept his eyes downcast, I knew they would be the same piercing grey as my own.
Eyes of the Beautiful Inoues.
I could feel the judgmental looks thrown in my direction as the man spoke again, "They are the most stunning of all Bellatonian jewels." I kept my face neutral- bored- as my father leaned forward besides me.
"Is my daughter not stunning to you, Kisuke?" Clark purred. The room went as silent as the grave, as Kisuke looked up, his eyes jumping from my face to the smile on Clark's. He recognized the taunt for what it was.
"Very much so. She is, Your Highness, a true gift to the Inoue name."
My dear uncle Kisuke knew how to play the game. Claiming me to the Inoue's could only be seen as an honor to everyone in this Court, but to my father, who sought to claim every living being, well he took the slap to the face as if it were a lover's caress.
A small, ever fleeting, wave of liberation swept over me. Such a small comfort; Of knowing Clark would never fully own me, not when a bastard child has always been saddled with the mothers' name.
But I also knew how to play this sadistic game. And so, pouring a fake distain into my voice, I said to my uncle, "The fiery blood of Madoc has long since purified me of any lesser blood. I may have the name of flowers, Lord Kisuke, but I have been dipped in fire and coated in gold." Clarks approval was evident as he slumped back in his throne, feeling no need to add to my statement.
Kisuke looked up at me from his kneeling position and I nearly flinched as I felt the full weight of his attention, his eyes so like my own- like my mother's-
I was Orihime Inoue of two royal bloods, and I would not cower.
I straightened my spine, rising my chin slightly higher so I could stare down my nose at the Lord. His eyes showed emotion I could no longer feel as he drawled, "And so you are a golden flower wrapped in thorns."
Before the words could pierce my armor, the throne room doors were thrown open, crashing against the stone walls. My instincts had me reaching across my shoulder for Vladimir but as my eyes adjusted to the blinding light, my hand dropped.
The Lord of the North was striding casually toward my father, a look of mischief on his stubby face and Kisuke had the good sense to merge into the crowd as the king rose from his throne. Clark met his lifelong friend half way and they clasped arms."My friend, I'm glad to see you arrived with little delay."
"The virgin thighs of Davana herself couldn't keep me away."
Clark's booming laughter shook the room, "Then what a strong man you are."
As if remembering their surroundings, the men unclasped their arms, and I realized, perhaps a second too late, that I should have moved with the king when he greeted his friend. For now his back was open to any attacks, to be given by any of his loving subjects. But Clark was already making his way back up the throne steps before I could move even an inch.
"So, Luca, what have you brought me today?" My father sang as he settled back into his gold plated throne. My eyes instantly went the all the offerings strewed across his dais, things we didn't need, things he'd probably throw out.
Lord Luca, mockingly bowed his head, before slapping his hand on his companions' shoulder. I started, having looked past the man's very existence. I looked him over, and couldn't find a single reason for him to be over looked. His hair, a light brown color with a redish hue, was cut short around his ears, yet grew long atop his head. His eyes were steady and clear and they darted around the room, taking in the faces of everyone gathered. He was handsome- strikingly so.
Though, he wasn't a fighter, considering his posture. I knew with only a look that I had several options, most centered around his legs, to pick from if I wanted to knock him on his ass. He had height though, which would make the length of his arms a deadly trap for someone as small as me…
"I have perhaps the greatest offering of all, the offering of young love."
But his legs were long and he seemed unbalanced just to be standing still, all of his fidgeting marking him as completely uncomfortable, so getting him moving would up the scale in my favor.
"I offer an alliance between our two kingdoms,"
His eyes met mine, they were a peculiar brown-almost black in their darkness- with a ring of pure silver around his pupil and I felt as if I had met him before, the encounter blurred at the edge of my memory…
"with the marriage of my son, Youngest heir to the North, Ryley Vilantrio, and your daughter, the Enforcer of Law, Orihime Inoue."
And then, utter silence.
I lived in silence. I drowned it in from the moment I awoke, hearing the voices of those around me in dull hums- a world heard in slow motion- as I walked through life in a silence of my own creation.
But this silence was different. It was heavy- thick. Not even a whoosh of breath or a shuffle of fabric as someone moved... nothing. And I feared that the whole room could hear my heart hammering in my chest because of it. That they could somehow smell my absolute horror.
Somewhere, in a far away world, I was vaguely aware of my father speaking but the words were lost to me as I sank deeper into that silence.
I kept my face as bored as always- though war was raging inside my aching head. I looked to Ryley once more, to find him already staring, and then, like a bucket of ice cold water thrown over me, I finally recognized him.
We had spent six months in each other's company when we were 14, barely a year after I'd won my trials- defeated my brothers and secured my life. It was a long held tradition for the two heirs, closest in age to train together when they reached maturity. And being the first female Heir in the history of The Golden City, I had felt a need to prove myself.
Poor Ryley had never stood a chance.
If Ryley had been born to my father he would never have lasted infancy, he knew only of comfort and luxury. When we first met he'd been nestled into his mother's side- his cheeks pink with warmth; as I shivered from the two weeks' journey to his kingdom. Clark had thought it would be good exercise for me to walk the whole way, while he sat comfortably in his warm, dry carriage.
Ryley's mother had kissed his head and pushed him encouragingly toward me. The fool had taken my hand to kiss as if I was some fair maiden. He'd taken one look at my dirty skin and cringed but had not dishonored me by dropping my hand.
He had cringed. At dirt…
Least to say, our time together was not pleasant after our training had begun.
He had anticipated stolen kisses and warm winter love, and I'd given him dark bruises and fractured joints.
I was supposed to marry a man who cringed at dirty finger nails? I was expected to see him, not as my equal, but as my king? Clark would never approve of such a spineless male sitting on his throne with me only sittng beside it. I was the leader of his armies. I was the Enforcer of Law, the Princess of Destruction- I could not be forced to marry. I could not be used for such outdated tactics.
But when Clark threw a look over his shoulder and I saw the sneer on his face, I knew not only that I could be. But that I would be.
Clark stared at me for a few moments before I realized I was expected to respond. I knew I had no choice, I knew to deny this would be to covet death. He knew it too. He wanted me to feel it, the weight of his absolute power. As if he hadn't killed enough of me.
I thought my fingers might break by how tightly my fists were clenched but I nodded once, quickly, if only to get his eyes away from me. And his sinister smile grew as he turned forward once again, his arms thrown out as he announced, "Then let it be so! The Gods themselves seem to smile down on us today, my friend."
Luca threw an arm around his son and laughed.
"And who knows," Clark began with a wicked, evil tone. "maybe my daughter will make a man of your son yet." I forced a sinful smile onto my face as the room boomed with laughter.
Past the smile, past the mask- I couldn't breathe. I was suffocating.
I had done everything he'd ever asked of me. Had covered my hands in so much blood for him. My teeth clenched, and I thought I might be sick, right there, in front of the entire city- in front my father and my newly betrothed.
An emotion I so rarely let myself feel bubbled in my chest.
Don't you dare break in front of them.
Marriage wouldn't be the end.
I could be the bride of a man I didn't know and would never love. I could leave behind my armor and weapons for gowns and party planning. I could shut my eyes as he was over me and birth children I could only pretend to love. I could trade one form of slavery for another. And I could sacrifice every part of myself I had managed to cling to all of these years.
Because I would be breathing, everything I'd ever done was to secure my next breath- secure just one more second, minute, hour of my worthless existence.
I met Ryley's unique eyes, and in them I could almost see the forming of words, as he tried desperately to convey something, but I paid no mind.
I had already plunged myself into the icy waters of hopelessness, where I could remain numb forever.
.
.
.
And there it is! The cliffhanger of the century!
Now, for those of you who desperately want to know where Ichigo is- Just be patient. This is, after all, Orihime's story.
And as all ICHIHIME shippers know, Orihime is a badass with or without him.
But he's coming ;)
Please leave a review if you have any insight!
Till next time-