13
Where Should We Begin?
Hooves thundered, and the sun beat down on her back; she was going dangerously fast, she knew, but she couldn't help it; not when the back roads were so smooth, and the rolling green hills stretched out so welcomingly before her.
Sayuri lifted a hand to wipe off the sweat that had gathered at her brow, other hand holding steady to her reins. Just behind her a few paces, a man called out over the sound of her wooden chariot barreling down the path, "Slow down! You're going to hurt yourself, you idiot!"
The princess openly laughed in reply. She continued to guffaw as she spurred her horses on faster, reaching up every now and then to fix the gold diadem holding her hair back.
At last she reached the orchards, and as she hopped off her chariot to let her horses rest under the shade of an olive tree, she pulled the extra fabric of her linen chiton back into her leather girdle.
Her companion neared her, and she fussed with her jewels and her diadem, making sure everything was in place. "I still don't understand why I can't wear such a short tunic like you! I might trip on it one day, since it's always so long!"
He alighted from his own chariot, his horses stopping a bit more smoothly, giving away how rigorously he'd trained them, as well as how great of a rider he was. His own diadem was glittering gold in the sun, but he ripped it off his chestnut brown hair to wipe at his own sweat as soon as he dismounted.
The look he was giving her indicated he was annoyed. He stormed up to her, crown still in one hand, "You could've lost your grip and flown off! What did I say about going too fast?"
Sayu looked at him as innocently as she could, but she had to bite back a few laughs and tried not to grin too widely—she had gone so fast because she'd known he would overreact. "And then what? Would you have missed me if I were gone, Alexander?"
The prince crossed his arms, shaking his head with exasperation. But he too was smiling begrudgingly, which made Sayuri giggle. She plucked his crown from his hands, going up on her tiptoes to replace it delicately on his head.
"The reason why you can't wear a tunic like mine," He said as his chestnut brown eyes watched her set his crown, "is because you're not a chariot racer like I am, Sayu."
He stuck his tongue out at her. She laughed at his bad excuse for not letting her wear a shorter chiton like he did.
"One day I'm going to dearly regret teaching you how to use a chariot…"
Sayuri woke with a shiver.
It was still grey in her new chambers, and she stared up at the ceiling of her rooms in the imperial palace, trying to recount as much as she could from the dream.
She remembered only the feel of the wind on her face and the sun on her skin. The rope burning through her fingers, and the delicate and cool metal of their crowns that followed.
And then: the smell of a Caeran orchard in the height of summer. The sight of her dead husband's face smiling at her as if it were five years before.
"Six years before," she said to herself quietly.
So it was happening again.
Sayuri sat up from bed, yawning. It was rather early—perhaps a half-hour before Fuu usually came with tea and her breakfast—and sighed, tossing her sheets aside and getting up from bed. She opened the windows herself, and suddenly her room was flooded with light from outside, and the whispering wind that passed through the lattices.
She stood stock-still in front of her windows as she absently let her mind run.
In retrospect, it had been a long while since she last dreamed of him, but it was not entirely unexpected. She'd been thinking of him, what with this new marriage to Kou and all, and the memory of him had simply been unavoidable. Of course he would follow her into her dreams; where once he dogged her in her nightmares, at least in this moment he'd been there in a pleasant—or so she thought—dream.
Her night visions often blurred memory and fantasy, so she could never trust herself in thinking that what she saw in her sleep was something she'd in fact experienced. It made her all the more confused come morning.
But today she was tired, only having it in her to breathe one wistful sigh.
Then Sayu yawned again, stretching. She figured she may as well go for an early morning walk to shake off her grogginess.
That same morning, after returning from sword practice and a bath, he spotted her leaving her chambers.
Normally Kouen would return to his study to look over all the reports he hadn't finished in the night before; he was always brought a fresh pile later in the morning, and he preferred to comb over every account of the military operations happening under his command if he could help it. He erred on the side of caution that way, readily able to recall and analyze whatever was and wasn't happening on the western front.
But seeing Sayuri out so early, still in her sleeping robes and without the usual crowd of attendants following her no less, intrigued him. Few in the palace would be awake right then—and that was indeed why he'd chosen this time, to devote himself to practice using his sword—and he didn't see much of her anyway, under ordinary circumstances.
In short it was an anomaly. A curious anomaly, because if he knew anything at all about her, she was organized and efficient; she would prefer to stick to routines, like he did, so as to maximize her time. Seeing her while on his way back was not routine.
He paused in his step, regarding Sayuri's retreating back oddly.
"Sayuri."
Her curtain of silver hair swayed as she stopped. She tossed a glance over her shoulder, and indeed Kouen could read the sleepiness in her expression, as she squinted her eyes at him tiredly. She turned on her heel.
"Oh, Kouen, it's you." She paused for a moment, as if her brain took more time to process such simple things as morning pleasantries when she was fresh out of bed, "Is there…anything you need?"
The woman yawned. She tried to hide the action with the sleeve of her sleeping robe, but it was too short and not wide enough, unlike her usual robes.
Sayuri ended up looking rather silly, but Kouen could not mistake the signs of the lack of sleep in her eyes that morning.
"You should be in bed." He uttered.
She shrugged lethargically. The action was so unlike her usual alert self that he blinked upon seeing it. It reminded him a bit of Koumei: "I would normally be up in less than half an hour; if I go to bed now, it would be little more than a nap. That, or I'll end up sleeping in."
And she couldn't afford to waste those extra hours; Kouen knew she was working with the trade board. They were at an impasse.
"Your request," He suddenly said. "I can help you now."
Kouen would have to put off reading those reports, but this way he would be able to spend some time with her.
Her, Sayuri, his wife—the woman who was working diligently to strengthen trade relations between her previous homeland and the Empire. Or so that was the ministers alluded to, when he happened to meet with them; they were all rather surprised by her seriousness in regard to the projects.
Sayuri's face scrunched in concentration, as her brows knit themselves together and her forehead wrinkled. Then it came to her: "Ah! That,"
She smiled. It was a simple, sly smile. It was small, and the twinkle in her eyes as she regarded him made him pause. It rid her face of all traces of sleepiness, and Sayuri tilted her head in that teasing fashion of hers: "Are you sure? I know you've much to do."
Kouen shook his head, and started walking in her direction. "We may as well do it now."
Her eyes trailed him as he passed. "If you say so."
She caught up to him with a quick step, smile still in place as they walked silently side by side.
He led her to the imperial archives, in accordance to her request the previous day. By then the sun had fully risen and a soft gold glow filled the massive library; still, he took her through the shelves slowly, knowing she would want to come back here after their visit, allowing her time to memorize the path.
No one else was there, not even the few magistrates he knew that regularly made the imperial archives their abode—truly, only he would be here at such an hour.
And Sayuri, now that he'd brought her. He glanced at her through the corner of his eye, watching her regard the cavernous room with slight awe. Her hair was still mussed from sleep and so were her rumpled sleeping robes; she'd only thrown on a thin silk overcoat, but other than that she was still very underdressed, if anyone were to find them here.
As he stopped at the section where she would find what she was looking for, he cleared out the two desks of some scrolls that had been left there by a previous reader.
"Wow," Sayuri remarked as he sat down. She ran a finger over all the scrolls and books gathered in the shelves. Some of the reading material were still in simple bamboo strips bound together, instead of paper; the annals in Rakushou was still in the process of transcribing everything into scrolls and books, because there were always new additions being made to the archive every day, and the collection of works gathered was nothing if not extensive.
"This is amazing," She turned back to him, earnest wonder making her eyes go wide. "I wouldn't have thought the archives would be so filled, especially with the empire being young."
Kouen observed her, boredly placing his chin in his palm. "The previous emperor thought it pertinent to record the happenings in court, and to compile knowledge into one library in the capital. Hence, this."
"Still," Sayuri said as she pulled out one scroll. She unfurled it before both of them, and her eyes moved swiftly up and down the text as she continued: "the amount of detail in this account is stunning. I hope everything else is like this."
She joked as she gave him a passing glance: "Your historians must be very pleased."
He nearly scoffed. "Koumei and I have been continuing the former emperor's tradition of compilation. They should be."
Her lips twitched at his matter-of-fact reply, but she turned her back on him again, and she went on to pull out more of the archived materials.
Kouen watched her grab every single thing that seemed to pique her interest, and he wondered if she intended to spend the entire day in the archives alone. When she settled in the desk across him, she lifted a brow at him curiously. "Is there anything else you wanted to show me?"
"None."
When she seemed finished with laying down all the books and scrolls she'd gathered, he stood and walked toward her desk, to examine her haul. She noticed this as she opened a new map and an old shipping manifest from one of Kou's main trading ports. Conspicuously, she unfurled both those scrolls to let him view them as well.
He could fathom what it was she was doing. When she'd approached him yesterday, she'd said she wanted anything the imperial palace had in its archives about all of Kou's docks, and any documentation of previous laws regarding the buying and selling of good in the Empire—thus she'd asked him if he knew where she could find those same documents.
Kouen had been curious about what she'd intended to do, which was why he'd agreed to her request. Seeing her sit there, fingers trailing over the map of the Kou Empire and reviewing the shipping manifests, he knew she wanted to familiarize herself with the lay of the eastern continent, as well as the history of Kou's trade.
It was pleasing, almost, to see her serious about her position as Crown Princess. It reaffirmed his belief that she would be useful as his wife, though he had never doubted it.
"Thank you," She said, and he returned his absent gaze to her, sitting before him. There was the smallest of smiles tugging on her lips, almost as if she was reluctant to express any more happiness whenever she was in his presence. Sayuri was staring at him with her pale green eyes, "by the way. I had the mind to ask Koumei to lead me here, but he's been very busy lately, it seems."
He raised his own brow at her. "Is my time any less precious?"
She laughed. It was surprisingly hearty—it wasn't a giggle or a chuckle, but a bellied laugh—and in the silence of the archives, the sound echoed in his ears. "No, but I trusted you to manage your time more wisely."
Kouen closed his eyes, sighing. That assessment of his brother's habits was razor sharp, to say the least.
"Besides…" He glanced at her, and she was looking off to the side, evidently pondering something. "...I wanted to go to the archives with as little suspicion as possible. Seeing the Crown Prince and Princess enter together would be innocuous, compared to me—a foreigner—entering alone."
"No trouble would've risen from you browsing the archives alone. You are free to roam the palace," Kouen pointed out, "as you are my wife. That alone should merit you the respect of everyone in Rakushou."
She seemed to mull over his words, which puzzled him. It was a simple fact: he would not tolerate any kind of disrespect, especially when it came to the woman who now shared his home and his name.
Then—just as he was about to say this—Sayuri nodded, eyes downcast. "I suppose so."
The princess wordlessly returned to her reading.
With his mind made to leave, he bid her one last reminder: "I expect to see you tonight."
At this her head snapped up. She regarded him with wide-eyed alarm, which surprised him.
"I…that is…"
Sayuri glanced away from him, lifting a hand to her cover face, and only then did he realize she, along with the tips of her ears poking out of her silver hair, was turning an unhealthy shade of red. It was an almost-mumble that came out of her mouth eventually: "…Of course, husband."
She was acting like he was holding a sword to her throat and forcing the words out of her mouth. It confused him—in truth he should not even be confirming her attendance for tonight; he would've thought she was mindful of fulfilling her other duties as Crown Princess.
He'd never seen her so flustered. He narrowed his eyes at her puzzling behavior, had he been wrong about her? "The Emperor and the Empress, as well as the rest of the imperial family, will be there. So you must attend."
At this point, Sayuri blinked.
Then she said, mostly to herself, but Kouen overheard: "Oh."
For a while, silence reigned.
She nodded at him, her cheeks still pink. "Yes, I'll be there. Will we be heading to the banquet together?"
"We will," He still looked at her skeptically, wondering if there would be any more lapses in her usual behavior.
Sayuri seemed embarrassed at his staring. She bowed her head. "Alright then."
It would only occur to him later in the day, in the middle of a war meeting, that perhaps she'd actually misread his words—and her reaction to it had made him question, but not enough to break his concentration, as he listened to one of his generals drone on.
Kouen waited for her in front of her chambers. Standing in front of the large and grand sliding doors was her bodyguard—the man she called by his given name, Davvid.
A magister, from the east, the Triangle. Caera, to be exact: and that was all Koumei had to speak upon the matter, which was to say, everything Sayuri had to speak with his brother.
The Crown Prince regarded him. He was a hulking man, tanned, scarred skin packed with muscle, though at the moment he was wearing the white robes of an attendant, and had crossed his arms. He carried no weapon on him, and he'd bowed respectfully enough when Kouen passed—but he was not afraid to look him in the eyes, much less grin at him like an idiot.
Davvid stood, silent. Still he bared his teeth, looking to all the world a man at his leisure, even if he was currently guarding Kou's Crown Princess. Kouen simply paid him no more mind: he was here to pick up his wife.
The doors slid open, and Sayuri appeared, wearing a crimson and white hanfu. Her hair was pulled into another elaborate hairstyle, piled high with metal hair ornaments, and his eyes easily caught her slight discomfort from the way she rolled her shoulders.
She smiled first at Davvid—then she turned to Kouen, her expression mild.
They walked silently together, like they did that morning, the both of them leading their retinue through the maze that was the imperial palace, and soon it was only the two of them being introduced at the banquet, with everyone else—nobles and officials alike—stopping to bow low at their arrival.
He offered his hand to her, and she took it; he led her to where they were seated with the rest of the imperial family, with no interruption. He settled at his place beside the Emperor, and Sayuri was seated beside him, with Koumei at her right hand.
The banquet started.
It went as all banquets did—all the while Kouen picked at his food, tiring steadily of feigning interest in the festivities.
Somehow, at some point in his boredom, his gaze had strayed to Sayuri, sitting at his side.
She had shifted closer to her right, one shoulder dipped and chin tilted downwards, her ear lent to Koumei; they were speaking quietly, tones hushed and mouths hidden by the wideness of Dantalion.
Yet: there was that teasing glint once again in Sayuri's two eyes like jade stones, the intrigued tilt to her brow, the wrinkle in her forehead as she listened to something Koumei intimated to her. Even the one eye that was uncovered by his brother's messy maroon fringe was narrowed wickedly, like the secrets they were passing each other were great things that could wholly ruin the lives of men.
Kouen lifted a single brow as he watched his wife chuckle quietly at something she'd heard. When the two of them parted, Sayuri straightened her robes with a small grin, and Koumei returned to nonchalantly sipping at his tea.
Honestly—they were no better than a pair of fishwives, and whatever fascinating conversation they shared was of no interest to him, but he did not miss the way they'd become familiar with each other. Koumei had gone to Jishou nearly two months ahead of him, but Kouen hadn't expected him to become good friends with the royal family.
There was no use dwelling on it now. Kouen focused on the two latecomers to the banquet; his eyes caught their figures sidestepping to their portion of the dais, after apologizing to the Emperor and Empress for their tardiness.
"Hakuei," He called, gazing at the young woman bowing before him. It was a habit she'd formed and never dispensed of, even after all these years—she insisted on the formalities, and Kouen had long ago learned to stop being irritated at it.
Beside her, Hakuryuu bowed. He was even more unfailingly polite (and stubborn) than his older sister. "Prince Kouen. Prince Koumei."
"It's a long journey you've made," Koumei commented, eyes flitting briefly on each of their cousins. "It is good to see that you've made it back in one piece."
Both of them straightened from their bows, and a smile Kouen knew to always be genuine alighted on Hakuei's pale face. "It's good to be back."
The smile faltered for a split second as her blue eyes glanced at the woman sitting between him and his brother. He too looked to his side, and found Sayuri curiously regarding Hakuei.
The words were admittedly still unfamiliar as they left his mouth. "This is my wife, Sayuri Jie."
She bowed again, Hakuryuu silently following suit. "It is an honor, Crown Princess."
"The honor is mine, Princess Hakuei," Sayuri's voice sounded from beside him. The tone was warm, but subdued; as if she were cautious of Hakuei and testing what kind of person his cousin and step-sister was. She need not have been so wary—though that was the way she was, calculating as he gathered his wife to be—because Hakuei was nothing if not (almost excessively) kind.
He gazed at Sayuri. There was a curve to her lips, and Kouen saw it as one of her miniscule smiles. She dipped her head, saying quietly, "I've heard many tales of your valor and sacrifice on the battlefield."
Kouen did not peg his wife to be the type to hold much regard for military exploits, but when she spoke to Hakuei, she seemed sincere. Even Hakuei was shocked at the unexpected praise, and she recovered eventually, her own smile broadening on her face, "T-Thank you, Lady Sayuri."
Hakuei gestured at her brother, who'd been inquisitively watching this exchange. "This is my brother, Hakuryuu."
The expression on Hakuryuu's face could only be described as mild, though in his wide blue eyes did he show signs of being more curious about Kouen's new wife, now that she'd received Hakuei so warmly.
"She is a lovely woman,"
The night went on, and though the banquet eased into something a little more informal and Kouen was free to leave his seat, it did not ease the restlessness he felt at parties. His mind tended to wander, thinking about all the things he could be accomplishing, instead of wasting his time at an occasion such as this; it was unfortunate that he could only skip so many of these banquets, before the court noticed and bothersome rumors would spread about his absences.
Kouen had no idea what she was talking about. Belatedly, he glanced at her. It was only her and a select few other people that he would allow to be near him while he was distracted: "Who?"
"Her," And Hakuei smiled a little impishly, eyes silently drawing to a figure at the far end of the hall. Kouen followed lazily, though he knew instantly who she was talking about when he saw her.
Sayuri was talking to someone. Countless tables and platters full of food and cups of wine and chattering nobles separated them, but Kouen could still see; his wife was so noticeable, with her gleaming silver hair and the way she held herself, tall and proud; but she liked to tilt and lean, to tease.
At least—to him she was so noticeable. Kouen looked back at Hakuei, wondering what was the matter.
"I said," She continued in her light tone, "that she's a lovely woman."
There was simply no use denying it; any fool with a pair of eyes in their sockets could see that Sayuri Jie was lovely.
He questioned, feeling impatient: "And?"
"Somehow, I'm not very surprised that she was your choice." Hakuei spoke, and her voice had turned wistful, which confused him slightly. "She seems to be enjoying the banquet, at least."
They both focused on Sayuri at her words. She was gesturing, as if in the middle of telling a story, a smile on her face; Kouen recognized only then that she was speaking to Kyouya Korechika, the Jishouan Ambassador, and the man that had proposed to her twice—and twice to no avail, if he recalled correctly.
If he also recalled correctly, the Jishouan people were fond of banquets. Raucous ones, to be precise. Kouen just sighed. "It is a trademark of her people. They're noisy at occasions."
"I'm sorry to not have been able to make it to your wedding," She said in reply. Hakuei's oval face looked at him with earnest regret, "I'm sure it was a great event. One more than worth attending."
Great was one way to put it. Kouen had simply gone through the day, as his marriage to Sayuri was another duty he had to bear.
All he said was, "You've nothing to be sorry for."
Yet still: the banquet was too somber for her tastes, but Sayu made the most of it, tasting all the dishes Koumei pointed out to her, and later in the evening affably greeting whichever noble that dared to introduce themselves to her without her husband's company.
A highlight of her night had been meeting the famed First Princess of Kou—a title she still retained, even if Sayu was now Crown Princess, and thus was above her in station—who she'd heard to be a great beauty, and an even greater swordswoman. And Captain Hakuei did not disappoint; Fuu had whispered to her that she was returning from settling a minor skirmish on the northern border, bringing along with her a company of soldiers she commanded and her actual blood brother, the Fourth Prince of Kou, Hakuryuu.
The princess had been kind enough, smiling more in their short exchange than Kouen in the entire time Sayu knew him. She smiled easily at both Koumei and Kouen, and they treated her familiarly as well. It was not exactly a surprise to begin with, knowing that the Ren family was tight-knit, more so where their war campaigns were involved.
And Hakuryuu—the silent thirteen year old obstinately staying by his sister's side—had drawn some of her interest, but he'd disappeared as soon as their introductions were over, and Sayu thought no more of him.
There would be time yet to acquaint herself with the rest of the imperial family.
Besides, she thought as she tipped her head back to sip her bitter tea, it's not as if I'll be leaving Rakushou any time soon.
She bumped into a few of the lords that comprised the ministerial board of trade, who stuck together even in their leisure time. She'd observed very early on that all of them took their jobs very seriously—and the level of devotion the Empire inspired in its subjects had both awed and frightened her.
Kyouya had been invited to the banquet as well, and seeing his stoic visage amongst the cluster of unfamiliar ones put a smile on her face. He appeared bored at the party, but soon enough joined her in a conversation about what she'd discovered that morning in the imperial archives.
"The archives are quite large, and it seems the Kou people are very thorough in their compilation and record keeping," She was narrating, reaching for a plate of tea dumplings that Kyouya automatically ushered towards her, "so it was easy for me to find what I was looking for. I'm shocked with the state of some of their roads; the only highways built in recent years seem to be regularly used by the army."
"And you're sure," Her friend replied, skepticism laced in his tone, "about the troop movements? That they occupy the roads all year round?"
Sayuri wrinkled her nose. "I'd have to ask someone about it."
Her mind had automatically jumped to Kouen because he was, after all, the general of generals, the man at the tip of the spear that was the Kou Empire's military. But she refused to say his name out loud, knowing Kyouya was thinking along the same lines as her.
"I'm not sure what you want to do. It's not our problem the imperial highways are shoddy. We've already reached an agreement with the ministers; Kou will handle transport between provinces. The Jishouan trading companies will handle transport across the East Kou Sea."
It was almost true. Except… "Maybe it isn't our problem. But there will certainly be the occasional delay in the delivery of goods, and you know it."
That was liable to happen; and occasional delay was putting it lightly. There were many roads in Kou that hadn't been improved upon in the last five decades: mountain roads, dirt roads, mud roads all in a poor state were prone to harrying traders trying to deliver their goods. At the very least it would make trade difficult, and at the worst it could even discourage it.
Sayuri imagined a porcelain merchant and his wagon making their way down a steep, rocky mountain path; one bump and all his expensive wares would be sent tumbling down the cliffside, and now the merchant would be in debt.
It was not ideal.
"What do you propose, then? Writing a report to the Emperor? Petitioning for funds to renovate the imperial highway, with the war still ongoing?"
She wrinkled her forehead, knowing it sounded ridiculous. "Well…" She mumbled, "it's something I thought the trade ministry should know, at the very least."
They weren't going to like it, though.
Kyouya said as much; Sayuri knew that if they—a pair of foreigners—reported their concern, it would come as an insult to the board, implying that they were so incompetent that they hadn't noticed something as obvious as the condition of their own trade routes.
And if she knew one thing for certain about the people of Kou, it was that they all clung to their pride. The trade board hardly stomached the presence of a woman in their meetings at first, what more if that same woman suggested they'd been overlooking something as important as the empire's infrastructure this entire time?
Thinking about it made Sayu's head ache. There would have to be a way to work around this problem; she just had yet to find it.
They moved on to lighter topics, and Kyouya commented on her new hanfu; she said it was a creation of Ruyi Qi's.
"Though I haven't been to her workshop yet," She added thoughtfully.
"I'll take you one day." The raven-haired man said in reply. Placidly, he ate another dumpling. "Perhaps next week."
Their attention moved to the side of the hall, near the front, where a great number of eyes were also pointed at. Seated at Kyouya's table, she could not see much of whatever it was everyone else in their area seemed to be watching.
Sharp peals of laughter broke through the whispers.
Sayu watched Kyouya tense, as he studiously tried to act nonchalant, but it was obvious that the boisterous guffawing bothered him.
Sensing her stare, her friend clenched his jaw. "It's the oracle," He muttered.
Her eyes widened. The oracle of Kou, the magi, in other words—
Her gaze flit over to Davvid, standing in the background. His arms were crossed as always, but he too was glancing over his shoulder to the source of the thus far unending laughter, expression as if he were trying to assess the situation.
Feeling curious herself, she looked back. The crowd had parted itself somehow, but soon another person emerged through the divide, a person she knew all too well. He seemed to be heading straight for their table, and Davvid drew himself from the shadows, waiting steadfast by her side as she smoothly stood.
"Minister Choyian," She greeted, and she'd fought to keep the interest out of her voice.
Hearing her words, the short man blinked, and looked up at her. His expression told it all; he'd clearly not been thinking about where he was going.
"Your Highness," He bowed, and it was shallower than usual, but Sayu could see that there was something on his mind; it surprised her to see him so serious and preoccupied. Choyian was usually quite genial, trying to inject humor into their meetings with a bad joke or two; he was the kind of old man that was all too happy to give people some unsolicited wisdom he'd learned about life.
Bearded lunatic was what Davvid called him. Happy old man was what Fuu, who'd been more than a little insulted, sniffed in return.
"Oi." An unfamiliar voice called out. Sayu looked behind the minister to see a circle of unwittingly curious onlookers, and nothing less than a boy with a long black braid standing at the far end of it.
He was pointing at Choyian, another derisive laugh tumbling its way out of his mouth, "Oi, I wasn't finished with you yet, gramps!"
That must be the oracle, Sayu thought with a light tilt to her head and a narrowing of her eyes, studying the boy with a white shawl draped over his skinny shoulders and a pair of long black pants swallowing his legs. The way nobody dared to speak out against the way he addressed a high-ranking minister merely proved his status as the most important magician in Kou.
"What? Lost your balls already?" The boy taunted at Choyian's back, and he couldn't have been any older than Kougyoku. He laughed again, choking on it as he bent over with his hand over his ribcage, "Man, even Hakuei's got more balls than you, and she's a girl! Your son dies and you can't even stay any longer on the battlefield than a month…"
His voice promptly dropped an octave. Like a whip his voice resounded, so cruelly young and malicious, a slender finger curved at her direction. "…whenever I look at you I'm reminded of how disappointing you are, Chen. How far you've fallen."
The princess looked once more at the minister, wondering how he'd react. This was not a situation she would deal with, no matter that she was unwillingly made a spectator—and it was clear, with the unperturbed look in Choyian's eyes, the relaxed set to his jaw, that he could handle this.
Just like that, Sayuri watched the older man blink, and once again his mouth was smiling wide. He turned back, clasping his hands in his sleeves.
"It is of no importance to me how far my star has fallen or risen," Choyian said, flippant as ever, voice mild like any other doddering old man's. "What is important is how I choose to serve the Empire, and how well I do it."
This casual brush-off of the boy's provocations did not sit well with him. If anything he seemed even more incensed, losing all traces of his cool arrogance and instead replacing it with a swift brandishing of his wand.
It was made of metal and tipped with a ruby, she noted. In the same breath, Davvid drew even closer to her—the oracle stepped forward angrily—Sayu had opened her mouth, a command to Davvid already on her lips—and a single word was all it took to stop the boy from taking his squabble any further.
"Why, you—!"
"Judar," One deep voice had called, and cut through the thick tension.
The audience suddenly had elsewhere to look at. Both Sayu and the minister glanced to the side, where Kouen emerged, Koumei only a little ways behind him.
Choyian bowed. "Your Highness," He greeted, levity in his tone. She wondered at that; it was clear the boy had been intending to harm him physically, and still he kept his composure, able to make light of all this. Her respect for him suddenly grew by the slightest bit.
Sayuri said nothing as Kouen's crimson eyes assessed the people tangled in the oracle's dispute. This unfortunately included her, but she gave him an odd stare, wondering if this was how things were.
Young magis left to run amok, she thought. Sayu wasn't sure if she should be disgusted or intrigued. She spared a passing look at Davvid, and it was obvious how he felt about the oracle: he was peering at him with a deathly serious glint to his eye.
This was obviously something they would be debating later, in the privacy of her chambers. Perhaps she could invite Kyouya for tea as well one day, so they could have his opinion on the matter.
For now Kouen was giving the boy, Judar, his unimpressed, deadpan stare. Both Kouen and Koumei seemed to speak to him, and she couldn't overhear; the oracle just tsked, twirling his wand in his fingers with all the annoyance in the world, like a child who'd just been denied his sweets.
Still: she gathered that the people who held the boy's leash were Kouen and Koumei, by the way he deferred to them. Soon enough their conversation was over, and Sayuri, Choyian, and Davvid watched as another man seemed to materialize from thin air.
He wore a white headdress, which clung to his head by a crown of thorns. A wide mustache to match his manic grin. He bowed exaggeratedly low to the imperial princes, his robes pooling on the ground with him—and with a crook of his finger, he left with the oracle in his company.
Evidently this was not an unusual circumstance either, with the way no one seemed to be surprised by it. But Choyian was watching the two figures leave with an empty look in his eyes, and for a moment Sayuri was shocked by it.
In any case it would not do for her to ignore her new husband's presence in public. She bid Kyouya and Choyian a short farewell and went over to Kouen, mind whirring on what she'd just witnessed.
"Kouen," She said quietly, before nodding at Koumei with a small smile. Sayu faced her husband, and she could not hide the wrinkle in her brow as she spoke, "I'll be heading back, now."
"Then we will both make our leave," Kouen said. He offered her his hand, and she took it with a sigh, knowing full well that everyone expected them to leave hand in hand. They bid their goodbyes to Koumei, who said he had matters to discuss with a few officials still at the banquet.
Then it was just the two of them, making their way down the halls of the imperial palace. Except not really.
Her distracted mind had turned to this observation, even as the warmth of her husband's touch seeped through her fingers. They were never really alone, the two of them, always being followed by an army of servants and bodyguards. The only privacy they would ever have was in each other's chambers, and even then, it was with the knowledge that other people would be waiting just outside the walls.
It was a wry and not entirely unexpected thing; they were both royalty, after all. Yet they were also newlyweds.
Kouen's grip was surprisingly gentle, but it did not feel as if one movement of her wrist and her hand would slip out of his. On the contrary, it was firm, but not overbearing, and his calloused fingers clung to hers.
"He's a pawn."
"A pawn with seemingly no supervision because of his status. A pawn that happens to be a magi."
"Magi are supposed to guide kings. But he's nothing but a boy."
Sayuri rubbed her head. She had nothing to say in reply. Across her, Davvid and Fuu lounged on her bed, sharing some tea and pastries Fuu had brought with her.
Only the princess was sitting upright on the bedside, feeling uneasy. Somehow, she knew this revelation would dog her all night, effectively chasing her sleep for the rest of her night away. Once her mind gripped itself on something, it often refused to let go.
Davvid sensed her thoughts, for he sat up, the older man looking at her with a lopsided smile. "Ah, don't worry about it too much, Princess."
The magister's reply seemed to confirm whatever it was Fuu was thinking of, because she also smiled, albeit more gently, from her position on the bed. She was laying back on her cushions, already in her sleeping robes, running an idle hand through her long blonde hair. "Perhaps you could write to Prince Ali, Princess."
"I definitely will be," She agreed with a quiet laugh. She shook her head, standing. She wore her sleeping robes too, and they were nothing more than two thin layers of silk, the outer robe dyed a brilliant shade of turquoise, with repeating patterns of plum trees in full blossom.
She draped a jet-black coat over her shoulders, fixing her hair with one sweep of her hands. "I think I'll go for a walk."
Before the two could say anything else, she called over her shoulder with a small grin, "I'll be staying inside Kouen's wing, don't worry!"
The palace was quiet when she stepped out of her chambers. There was a slight chill in the air, which her coat protected her against, but she still shuddered at the wind and let out a long breath.
She began her roundabout walk, nodding at a guardsman she passed by occasionally. There was no true risk for her in Kouen's wing at least, which was filled with both the guards she'd brought from Jishou and Kouen's own personal guard. Davvid had also taken his turn about the wing when they first moved here, so she knew it was also crawling with wards that would alert him to any danger.
Sayuri had her arms clasped behind her, feet stepping quietly against the cold palace floor, head lost in thought. That she'd forgotten to put on some shoes was entirely incidental; she wondered if the guards were bewildered by her appearance. Seeing the Crown Princess out and about in the middle of the night, barefoot and in her sleeping robes, would undoubtedly be a strange sight.
She took a turn in the corridor. She was nearing Kouen's chambers now, and she expected to see his household members guarding his door.
Indeed, Gaku Kin was guarding the tall doors, with Seishuu right across him.
She dipped her head. "Gentlemen."
Seishuu had a smirk in place for her. Her lips twitched at the sight. "Princess,"
Even Gaku Kin was bowing respectfully. "Princess."
She'd gotten used to seeing the two household members, because they always shadowed Kouen. Sayuri passed by them without a single strange look, which she was thankful for.
"Princess!"
She stopped, blinking. She tossed a glance over her shoulder, and saw Seishuu had stepped out of his place resting against a pillar. The man gestured across him, and she saw Gaku Kin pull open Kouen's great doors with one languorous stretch of his massive arms.
"Lord Kouen," Seishuu said, "he wants to see you."
Kouen's study was lit by the orange glow of numerous candles, and a lantern hung above his desk with the help of a stand. They cast shadows against the walls of the room, the candlelight flickering and illuminating all the scrolls, books, and maps that had been gathered in his study.
Kouen himself was at his desk, as always. But this time he stood at her entrance, going over to her almost immediately.
He too was in his sleeping robes, white with red trimming, and his red hair was held back with a loose black tie. Her forbearing husband asked, his face half-hidden in the dimness of his study, "Why are you out at this hour?"
Sayuri shed her coat first. Her husband had cropped up in the most unexpected time that morning, when they spotted each other in the hallways. He had taken her to a banquet she'd been obligated to attend in his company, and now he'd cropped up again in the night, asking for her presence in his study.
The only thing that would've made her balk even more was if he requested her company in bed tonight.
She held her coat in her arms, hugging it because it was still cold from the outside, and Kouen's study was unreasonably warm. "Weren't you the one to tell me I was free to roam the palace?"
He didn't even blink at her cheeky reply. Instead, he said, "I merely ask you as the husband whose marriage allows you to roam freely."
Sayuri huffed. Kouen was far too serious. "Well," she began with a shrug, "I couldn't sleep."
And there are many things to contemplate, she added silently.
"Don't tell me I should be in bed, because there'd be no use in it," She said.
Kouen was observing her, his intelligent stare a little unnerving. "It's a surprise you rise early if you always sleep in these hours."
The princess raised a brow at him, eyes wide and discerning. So he cared enough to make conjectures about her sleeping condition—but to what end? Their paths rarely crossed, and their schedules were too different from each other's. They didn't see each other often, and so there was no use in knowledge like that.
"Davvid has warded your entire wing with protective spells, you know," She said lightly, wondering why he was so concerned. "I should be safe if I stay within those confines."
"I don't trust him to keep you safe." He said, crossing his arms.
What, were they going to have their first argument now? In the dead of night, over a walk she decided to have on a whim?
"You should," She uttered lowly, peering at him with wide eyes. "He's a magister."
Kouen simply shook his head. He turned his back on her, saying dismissively, "It would be better if you stayed in here instead of wandering out in the middle of the night. The palace guards cannot always protect you."
"And you can?"
That seemed to stop him. But when he turned halfway to look at her, he was unfazed, and said with absolute certainty, "I can,"
The look in his eyes dared her to challenge him, Ren Kouen, dungeon capturer, accomplished general, Crown Prince of the fearsome Kou Empire.
"And I will." He finished, his tone brooking no argument. "Stay, or let Seishuu escort you back."
She glared at him. She meticulously laid down her coat on his war table, and sat down on the low go table, legs curled underneath her.
Sayu would not brood and sulk. But it was clear that Kouen, in his breathtaking arrogance, had thought he'd won that pointless quarrel. Obviously, she thought differently, but it would do her no use to bring it up again.
Husbands. Just her luck that this one was overprotective.
Eventually she sighed, and started bringing out the bowls of black and white stones from the go table's hidden drawer. Seated as he was at his desk, Kouen was keeping an eye on her too, from the way he would ever so glance at where she sat from the corner of his eyes.
Her thoughts bubbled furiously in her head—who does he think he is, trying to cage me in his chambers with him, like I'm some wild animal that needs to be domesticated—and it destroyed her concentration so ruinously that she had to take another deep, resounding sigh.
A chair slid from its place. Suddenly, Kouen was sitting across her, taking the bowl of black stones from her hands.
He looked at her. He glanced at the game board and grunted, "Were you planning to play against yourself?"
She stared back at him blankly. "Yes. Is there a problem?"
He scoffed. "So you truly aren't proficient yet."
The insult raised her hackles. "You've never played me a second time. How would you know?"
"Choyian Chen knows," He said back. "And playing against yourself is a terrible way to improve. You would know this if you were truly familiar with the game."
That he seemed to be acquainted with the minister was expected—but for Choyian to tell him of the few go games he'd roped her into (and agreed to playing out of pure politeness) almost felt like a betrayal.
Choyian Chen. The oracle Judar. Kouen.
All names that swirled in her head that night, dizzying her.
"Play," Her husband said. "Your move, Sayuri."
They played for an hour or two.
She was reluctant at first to take it seriously, but like all else, she gave way to the rhythm of the game.
In truth it was not much of a challenge playing with her. Yet it was plain that whatever had occupied her mind was replaced by her petty need to win against him. Her constant sighing had interrupted his reading, earlier, and when he realized it he'd wondered how he could ever think she would be silent in his study. He'd almost ordered Seishuu inside to bring her back to her chambers, but he'd thought twice of it.
He won each match. She was improving, though not at such a blistering rate that she could catch up to his level. Kouen had thought she would get frustrated, but diligently she continued, studying his moves as well as she could, taking apart his strategies and putting them back together again in the next game they played.
She was the first to show any signs tiring, but this was from physical exhaustion; she yawned suddenly, and mumbled a half-meant excuse me as she stood and wobbled over to the doorway that connected his bedchamber.
Kouen caught up with her, sighing as he went. "The Empress is holding a hunt tomorrow, in honor of Hakuei and Hakuryuu's return to the capital. We're expected to attend—"
He looked up, and when his eyes landed on his bed, he spied his wife collapsed over it.
Feeling his eye twitch, he neared the wide bed, standing over Sayuri's tired form.
"I know," She yawned loudly as she was rubbing her eyes. Her bright silver hair was splayed against the dark hues of his olive green sheets. "I know."
Kouen eyed her questioningly. "You won't wake early enough for it."
She closed her eyes. When she spoke, her voice had grown small, quiet.
It was only two words, but resignation and acceptance reigned in her tone and her weak limbs. "I know."
It felt like she was speaking of something else.
Kouen pursed his lips—then breathed another long-suffering sigh.
"I will take care of it."
He turned to march back into his study, "Sleep."
Notes:
The chapter that wouldn't end. lol. Long notes for a long chapter:
(1) I'll make it clear, since I was conflicted about it before, but I've now made up my mind; this is less a romance story, but more of Sayuri's personal story, and Kouen just plays a pivotal part in it. If there are canon characters who have less of a role than you expected, or if I outright neglect canon characters in favor of my OCs, it won't entirely be a coincidence. Hence why Kouha or Gyokuen or Kougyoku don't even appear in this chapter that much. It's up to you if you want to continue reading this fic, but truthfully I'll just carry on writing this fic as I have been before.
(2) Ages, for those that may be confused: Sayuri (24), Kouen (25), Koumei (23), Hakuei (18), Hakuryuu (13), Kougyoku (14), Kouha (15), Judar (15).
(3) About dreams: sometimes something happens to you, or you think about something the entire day, and it ends up extending into your sleep, with your brain trying to process it the events through a dream. That's according to my psychology class, anyway, and not the only reason why you might be having a dream. The dream is also because I absolutely want to avoid using flashbacks as a plot device at all costs, tbh.
(4) Judar: sorry if I disappointed you with his appearance here, because he seems rather villainous, I swear I don't regard him as a 2D cutout. He's just...complex, like everyone else is in Kou.
(5) Hakuei: so, the manga extras really hint at something going on between Hakuei and Kouen. It's affecting my portrayal, obviously, because I can't disregard the connection between the both of them there, and I can understand why there would be a connection in the first place.
So yeah. Thank y'all for reading! Hello to all the new followers of this story, if you've any inquiries, just say it in a review or a PM! Thanks to all the lovely people who've penned me a review last chapter - it's been fun responding to them.
As always, constructive criticism is highly appreciated, so if you've any comments, just write me a note :-)