15

The Maddening Crowd

The figure of the Crown Princess of Kou was indeed one that was hard to miss, even in a palace full of courtiers and imperial officials that made up the court of her father and mother; here the illustrious woman was now, walking and in conversation with her bodyguard and her handmaiden, head tilted as if in consideration of something.

They were across the courtyard, at the opposite hallway, yet still Hakuei could see her clear as day—today she was not wearing the foreign clothes she seemed to prefer, the cylindrical robes with their elegant painted patterns, all held in place with the thick sash she would wear around her waist; one could say she almost looked every inch a native Kou princess that morning, for she had pulled her hair back in a bun—a single silver hairpin stuck in its middle—and gone with a stylized hanfu that spoke of Ruyi Qi's excellent craftsmanship.

Her bodyguard was speaking, and the princess seemed to be listening with great intent; soon, however, she and the handmaid chuckled good-naturedly at something he'd evidently uttered, and the three went on their way.

Hakuei considered this with a curious expression, though she could not fight the small smile that had crept on her face. She hadn't known the Crown Princess for very long, and the amount of times she'd personally spoken to her she could count on her fingers.

Sayuri Jie was still a great curiosity to her, and perhaps to everyone else in the court—when Koutoku had first laid out his decree about what they were to do on the matter of Jishou and the Triangle, he'd said bring me a bride that will give us no trouble.

Perhaps they'd all thought that they would bring back a meek woman with no will, someone who would easily submit herself to Kou; that would've easily fit the Emperor's description.

And yet: after a month and half's absence from the battlefield, last year Kouen had returned to the front lines, and briefly all was as it should've been. It was only later that night, in the privacy of his own tent and after a brief war meeting with the other commanding officers, had he asked her to stay behind and explained what was at hand. He'd been seated at the head of the war table, writing a missive, when he finished and set his brush down.

She remembered it vividly: she'd intended to teasingly ask him about his trip to the east. But he spoke first, in his cool voice: Mei and I have secured the alliance with Jishou. If all goes well here, we will return to Rakushou for the wedding in a year's time.

His engagement is a year long? I would've expected it to be months only, she'd said in slight surprise.

Kouen had lifted a brow. His?

Lord Koumei, she'd supplied immediately, feeling more confused.

Then, Kouen had simply shaken his head and called for a messenger. It was in those small moments that the idea of exactly whose engagement it was dawned upon her, and she'd been left utterly speechless.

Many more months after that, she came. Kouen had obviously resolved not to bring just anyone home to the Empire; there were whispers, and the wind had carried them all the way to the northern border, where Hakuei had been. The governor who hosted their division had skittishly inquired about rumors of the foreign princess who refused to let any man but the Emperor see her face—the mysterious daughter of Jishou that cloaked herself with a silver veil, the woman that all of Kou would one day bow to as Empress.

Seeing her for the first time at the banquet—and sitting comfortably between Koumei and Kouen, no less—had caught her off guard.

She could not imagine Kouen being married to someone weak. She'd barely even imagined him marrying to begin with, but Sayuri Jie stood with a straight spine, even if she bore on her shoulders the heavy mantle of Crown Princess; the woman held herself with pride, laughed freely when speaking to the Second Imperial Prince of Kou, and readily engaged with the ministers of the court.

That Kouen had found such a woman and brought her into the imperial family by virtue of their marriage still baffled everyone.

It was what Hakuei found intriguing, however, and remarkable. She found herself eager to get to know Sayuri Jie not only as her role as Crown Princess, but also as sister and fellow woman with (what Hakuei was sure was) her own storied history.

"Lord Koumei told me she's off to the market today," Hakuryuu murmured quietly from beside her.

Hakuei truly let herself smile this time. She glanced with some amusement at her baby brother, who'd also been watching the Crown Princess' party pass them, and was now staring at the empty hallway across theirs'. "How and for what reason did you inquire about it to our cousin?"

The thirteen year old's lips drew into a line. Then they moved to speak: "I noticed the convoy near the stables. He was there too, and I asked if he was going somewhere. I know you have a war council with him and Lord Kouen this morning."

"I see. He must have been overseeing the preparations himself, then."

"It looked like it."

It struck her as protective of Koumei, which made her grin a little; rumor had it that he'd befriended Sayuri first, before Kouen had been introduced to the princess. On the day of the hunt he'd reconvened with the rest of the hunting party with Sayuri in his party, and Hakuei had seen up close the true fondness in his eyes as he regarded the Crown Princess.

"I worry we overstepped our bounds when we personally welcomed Lady Sayuri the other day."

"Do you?" Hakuei replied automatically. "I think we did the right thing. Our family…" For a moment her face twisted in on itself, knowing what many people spoke of them. "…hasn't a reputation for being particularly kind. Shouldn't we change that?"

"I…I agree," Her brother said. The princess looked at him with a furrowed brow, worried that she herself had been a tad harsh about what she believed in. But a small measure of pride filled her when Hakuryuu held his ground, cautiously saying, "But we don't know her. And without a doubt, she barely knows us."

"True. We don't know her. That doesn't stop me, however, from trying to extend the hand of friendship."

Gently, she placed a hand on little Hakuryuu's shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. The motion startled him, and the princess took the time to say: "We will never know her if we do not try. Everyone deserves that chance, do they not?"

The boy looked away for a moment, abashed. Yet he trained his mismatched eyes on hers again, a sheepish smile on his face.

And Hakuei felt glad.

"Yes, I suppose so."

The two polished jade stones that were Sayuri Jie's eyes surveyed the scene before her with obvious surprise. She walked down a set of steps, her bodyguard and handmaid dutifully trailing behind her.

Trade minister Choyian Chen merely smoothed his robes and clasped his aging hands in his sleeves, feeling a twinge regretful to have sprung this upon the unsuspecting Crown Princess without so much as a hastily written message.

Sayuri's mask of unrelenting politeness had already slipped itself into place by the time her piercing stare fell upon him.

He expected the sight of her mask irritated some of his colleagues. She wielded her scrupulous observance of courtesy as a weapon during negotiations; she could be blunt when it suited her, but she was always infinitely mindful of ruffling the feathers of a few feeble old men that were already feeling threatened by her younger, womanly presence.

Is it because I'm female? She'd straight out asked when Chen had said a statement as impertinent and condescending as we mean no offense, Princess, but this is just not done in Kou…

She'd made a solid case of why she should've been allowed to convene with the trade ministers, couching the argument with please allow me and I know I am still young and have much to learn and I only want what's best for Kou and Jishou.

The perfect blend of practicality and politeness, coupled with a heady dose of humility…or ego-stroking, depending of course on the gentleman minister she spoke to.

The Crown Princess was, in short, a very sharp woman.

Chen bowed low to her.

"Crown Princess Sayuri," He greeted. When he rose out of his stance, she was regarding him with some curiosity, eyes narrowed. She was right to be wary of him, considering he was appearing before her unannounced. "Ambassador Korechika will be meeting us in the city. He specified a very good teahouse, one whose blends I hope Your Highness will find interesting."

"I was unaware that he had extended the invitation to you, Minister Choyian," She said. But the woman dipped her head, a polite smile appearing on her face. "I look forward to spending this morning in your company however. You could tell me far more about the city's market than the Ambassador could."

The compliment rung true in his ears, despite the reluctance and distance in her tone, and the minister smiled his remorse. He said nothing more in reply, and she graciously thanked him when he assisted her in climbing inside the carriage.

Minutes later, the back gates of the imperial complex opened to a non-descript path back into the city. Sayuri sat quiet across him, her handmaid equally silent.

The Crown Princess seemed content to survey the passing scenery, which as of the moment consisted of trees that flit by and the occasional tradesman's caravan making their way to the imperial palace behind them.

The steady clipping of horseshoes and racing carriage wheels filled the space between them. He could tell the princess was genuinely interested in the scenery, and was contemplating just how her supposed visit to a certain Ruyi Qi had been interfered with.

She probably had no idea the Second Imperial Prince had personally reviewed the logistics of her excursion, and made sure everything had been in order. She probably had no idea that her husband, the Crown Prince, had approached Chen late last night about the matter either.

It was a funny thought to have: the two eldest princes of Kou were probably the dourest men he ever knew, and to see evidence of their protectiveness over this one woman slightly amused him.

Mostly, however, it worried him. His steadily growing attachment to the new Crown Princess had alternately pleasantly surprised him, and worried him—it was never good, to feel so much for someone or something that could so easily be gone, or taken away.

Countless meetings and arguments about levies and taxes and quotas and trade routes had cemented her good intentions for both Kou and Jishou, as well as the strength of her will, in his mind—the fact that she didn't seem to care overly much for her new husband, whose company she had voluntarily and repeatedly eschewed to go speak with a gaggle of old men, only further proved to him that she was no airheaded princess seeking only to please her husband.

With enough time she would make a fine Empress one day, he'd realized early on. It was a ready admission when he thought that bringing her to Kou was one of the few good things the imperial family had done since Hakutoku's wrongful death.

And while loyalty to her had already dug its roots in his heart by then, he was only all the more aware of how that would make her doubly unwelcome in the eyes of the other forces at play in Rakushou.

Chen was certain Kouen and Koumei were aware of this. Or—he had to be certain they were already aware of this.

Hakutoku, he sighed silently, as he looked out the latticed windows of the moving carriage, every day we stray further from the path you've set. Let us do Kou right with this Empress.

The ride to the city continued to be quiet. Sayuri felt in no overwhelming mood to speak—she was wholly preoccupied with the way things had unfolded. She'd woken that day, as bright and early as she could manage, with the intention of taking a carriage with Kyouya to the city; imagine her surprise when it was not her raven-haired friend waiting for her by the stables, but an old man.

She'd had no intention at all of purposely meeting a trade minister, since her confession to Kouen. She wondered…

Less than four feet away from her, the minister stirred from whatever thoughts he seemed to be having. Choyian smiled at her, which she secretly regarded with some suspicion. Outwardly, it was easy to project an air of blank curiosity. "If you would allow me, Your Highness, to explain the arrangement that was reached for this trip we're making to the market..."

"Yes," Sayuri bid respectfully, "if you would."

The old man's beard twitched with a smile at her assent. "I was—ah—approached about the matter by your husband last night…"

She fought the urge to sigh and roll her eyes. She'd had some inkling that Kouen had somehow had a hand in this, considering it was only he that she told of her excursion to the market, last night; she'd told no one else but Kyouya. And she'd had no reason to believe her old friend would suddenly up and invite Choyian Chen out of nowhere.

Of course her husband would do something like this behind her back; being married to him for the span of these long weeks only proved that presumptuousness was well in his nature, and he was a bit like Emperor Koutoku in that respect.

But the curious question of why remained. Kouen—Kouen was not unreasonable, she also believed, and she had never really seen him overcome by any emotion other than arrogance. Arrogance that was almost valid, given that he had the annoying tendency to be exceedingly knowledgeable.

I'm yours, Kouen, whenever you need me.

I know.

She'd nearly scoffed in his face, but she instead had bid him a civil good evening and watched him leave her chambers. "Might I ask as to why my husband was approaching you about this?"

The old man next did something she had never anticipated: his eyes flickered away from hers, and his expression turned contemplative. It struck her as oddly candid, which she did not expect from a minister of his stature. "I suspect he wanted his involvement to be kept secret, but I felt he asked me to accompany you because he knew—like Your Highness mentioned earlier—that I would be able to tell you more about the market and what the economy in the city was like, in fine detail. I've only been minister for seven years, but I've been roaming the streets of Rakushou ever since I was a child. I'm sure he felt my knowledge would be of use to you."

Sayuri took a moment to process this. He felt?

This seemed like conjecture on Choyian's part, however inclined as she was to believe it. But she knew nothing of how close he actually was to Kouen, or if they were friends, or even enemies; she knew that Kouen treated the old minister with respect and that they spoke together, but she was unsure if that respect extended into anything else.

"The hour was late, however, and unthinkingly I fell to bed before I thought of informing Your Highness. Prince Koumei assured me this morning that he had dealt with the Ambassador; it fell to me to meet you at the stables."

So Koumei was in on this as well. She furrowed her brow—this was an unwelcome revelation. "Koumei was aware of this?"

Choyian's expression was that of wry amusement. "Yes. He thought your traveling party needed more guards."

"Ah, I noticed," She uttered. "There was a bit more to the lineup than usual. I entirely thought they belonged to your party."

The fact was that Kouen asked Choyian to accompany her. And Koumei had run his hands over her outing; strange as it was she could almost forgive Kouen's interference, because this was something in his character to do, but Koumei?

She felt a little betrayed.

It was at this point Choyian chose to speak again, as if sensing her slight distress: "I'm sure Lord Kouen tasked his brother with your safety. They are both busy men, but everyone knows that the Crown Prince's most trusted and most capable ally is his own brother."

And everyone knew of Koumei's obeisance to Kouen's wishes. That had always been the most striking thing about Koumei—he had the most magnificent brain, and a will that was harder than steel. Still, he wholeheartedly deferred to Kouen and recognized him as his lord brother.

Nearly everyone else was much the same, in retrospect: when they said Crown Prince Kouen they said it with the deepest well of respect; not even the Emperor garnered this much praise or devotion—Hakuei, Kougyoku, Koumei, the ministers...so many bowed to him, and for the life of her Sayuri couldn't understand.

Maybe it was because she was still a foreigner in many respects. Maybe the people of Kou knew something she didn't.

And here Minister Choyian Chen was, a most esteemed gentleman from the trade board, telling her about how Kouen had intended for his interference to be kept quiet.

She looked at him piercingly, trying to search him for the answer to the predicament he'd laid out before her. Sayuri tilted her head, unsure of what to make of this old man. The circumstances of their first meeting were still remembered vividly in her mind, but she also remembered when he bravely stood against the Oracle of Kou's insult when no one else would.

"I thank you for telling me this," Sayuri said. But no information was ever freely given, and the strange differences in his behavior told her there was something else to this man. What was he going to gain by being honest with her?

So she stayed silent. If he wanted something, he would simply have to ask for it.

The rueful smile on Choyian's face told her that he understood this. And so he spoke: "I said it because I believe you will help our nation, Crown Princess. You may not be Empress yet, but the mere fact that you did not dismiss me when I announced my intention in going with you to the city suggests that you do care about supporting our merchants, and our livelihoods."

"I couldn't have dismissed you," She uttered archly, "it would have been rude. And you had implied an agreement with Ambassador Korechika; I could not have refused your company, because it would have been an insult to my friend. Though now I know that it was Prince Koumei who dealt with Kyouya, not you, my lord."

"But Your Highness did say you welcomed me, for I could tell you a great deal more about the city than what the Ambassador, did you not?"

The princess just stared at the man across her. Was he expecting her to lie? She wasn't going to. And despite her hesitance, she had come to the conclusion that his own expertise in that area was still welcome with her.

"I will always welcome the chance to know more, if it will help me."

Their argument was now moot.

Choyian looked like he regretted the end of their discussion. He bowed his head, "That Lord Kouen did not order me to accompany you, I feel you should know. He approached me with a request, and I had simply accepted, knowing it would do good for all parties involved."

The carriage jolted to a stop. Choyian peered outside the wooden lattice of his window, and then exclaimed: "It seems as if we've arrived, Your Highness."

Before she could get another word in edgewise, he was already clambering out of the vehicle, joyfully saying, "What a wonderful day to be out. And it seems as if our arrival was anticipated—ah, good day to you."

Brows knit with confusion, Sayuri smoothed her new hanfu and let Fuu exit the carriage first. It was her handmaid's smooth hand and Choyian's wrinkled one that helped her climb down.

What awaited her was a long road hedged by wooden townhouses—clothes lines, paper lanterns, and the ever-present Kou Empire banners hung overhead. Merchants and other trading folk were clothed in stiff dark colored robes, hawking their wares from their stall; however, most of the people in that part of the market wore lighter robes in shades of blue.

They were obviously in the western market; this lane in particular seemed to concern itself with a assortments of fruits: there were plump red strawberries, cherries, peaches, and surprisingly a variety of what looked to be white mangosteens. Most noticeable however were the group of people hovering by her traveling party, openly staring at them with thunderstruck expressions in various stages of awe.

They were a blend of tradesmen and servants robed in their noble house's colors. While they readily bowed to Choyian, they stared at her with their mouths open—standing a bit to the side, the trade minister was jovially greeting some people he seemed to know.

Suddenly a handmaid dropped down in a very low curtsey, the peaches in her basket nearly tumbling to the ground in her hastiness. "Y-Your Highn-ness!"

That seemed enough to snap everyone else out of their trances, and soon twenty or so people were bowing to her in the middle of the market street, uttering a confused litany of Your Highness and Your Majesty and Your Grace's. Choyian turned back to survey this situation with some obvious merriment.

"The Crown Princess has decided to come to the western market today," The rotund old man said in a good-natured tone; the kindness in his eyes with which he regarded the common people, plus the casualness in his manner while being here told Sayuri that he was indeed very familiar with this part of the city. "We're just taking a nice little stroll."

With a chuckle, Choyian added: "Pardon our disturbance. We won't be bothering you good folk any longer."

The people seemed to take the minister's humility in stride, like he was a familiar fixture among them, and they knew how to interact with him. One of the men, who'd previously been pulling a cart before stopping to gape at her arrival, gamely said: "If you don't mind me saying, m'lord, but it's always good to see you in our part of the town." He paused—then nervously tacked on, staring at the point where Sayuri's robes met the ground, "It's an honor too, m'lady…"

"And it is an honor on my part as well," She replied in kind. The man's gaze snapped up, and they locked eyes for one moment. The princess merely grinned. "I've never been around Rakushou. It is a fine city, and I'm enjoying the beginning of my acquaintance with it."

Sayuri directed a stare at Choyian that was perhaps a tinge scrutinizing. "I'm also sure the good minister would help introduce me to the other districts as well." She looked back at the tradesman, saying with a light tone, "One hopes that by the end of the market day, they would've gotten to see the entirety of Rakushou."

Choyian bowed his head dutifully, though his smile did not wane, and instead he indeed looked happy at the prospect. He uttered, "As you wish, Your Highness. I would be glad to."

What a weird day, her mind said silently.

Sayu refrained from raising her brows at the minister's deferential manner—she just smiled and nodded at the rest of the other people still bowing, bidding them a good morning.

Their walk down the lane continued in a similar vein. Though people visibly skirted her party at first, they made sure to bow in respect. It was only when she and Choyian passed that they began to follow them.

Sayuri was unbothered by it—it was amusing, however, to be gaped and stared at how many times, and to have people excitedly gossip to themselves while she was in earshot. Many eyes lingered on her silver hair, and many more still lingered on Davvid's tanned skin and gruffly welcoming demeanor.

Choyian told her that Ruyi Qi's studio was in the next district, near to the lanes that sold textiles and contained a small dye market. They would be heading to the edge of the lane, toward the teahouse district, where they would meet Kyouya and subsequently dine before heading over to Lady Ruyi's. They would make time for the other districts, as well as the eastern market, later in the afternoon.

As they settled this, they all the while made sure to stop at as many stalls as they could; Choyian greeted the shopkeeper first and introduced Sayuri, and she would likewise courteously bid them good morning.

After, however, she got straight to business and inquiring about what goods they sold.

Usually the merchants first regarded her with amazement, as if they couldn't believe she was real and standing right before them and asking them questions, then they took a stilted moment to put together their answer to where are these from, which routes do you use, how often do you get your deliveries?—and then they would readily engage her in an exhaustive but conversation about their chosen craft, as if they were proudly eager to show her the ins and outs of their work.

This was a pattern that she knew well enough from her time in Caera.

And she could admit to herself that it felt…good, in a way, to meet the people of "her country." It felt right to be among them, speaking to them and not just the nobles and officials caged with her in the imperial palace; to hear them happily speak about their lives was fulfilling, almost, and she tried to commit to memory each and every word they uttered.

If it brought happiness to the people of the empire she was supposedly a part of now, it was an affirmation that she was surely doing the right thing, upholding her end of the marriage contract. It had to be.

The people of Kou were hardworking and proud of their livelihoods, that much she knew, but still it was plain to see that they showed true deference to the crown. Once the people she met on the street knew her as the Crown Princess they were always nervous and anxious, as if they were willing to do anything to try and please her.

They were already entering the teahouse when Sayuri had the time to reflect on this. The teahouse district was on the edge of the land, on the banks of a river that divided the eastern market from the western—it was large and sprawling, with emerald green tiles on their sloping gabled roofs, and great sliding doors and pillars of a deep crimson, holding the entire two-story structure well above the river water.

Of course the owner and proprietor of the prestigious, centuries-old teahouse had personally met them and showed them to the upper floor, which offered a beautiful view of the boardwalk on the other side of the river, and the willow trees that lined the lane.

The upper floor was also empty, save for the teahouse's lavish furnishings and one man on the far end of the room with his hands clasped behind his back, silhouetted against the brightness of the then-afternoon light.

Kyouya turned back at their arrival, his taciturn expression not changing even as his eyes roved over her figure. Once satisfied, he fixed his stare on Choyian. "Minister."

The old man was already moving toward a seat near Kyouya, fanning himself with a wrinkled hand. "Korechika. I am most glad you chose this place for our rendezvous; they always did have the best view of the Wangzi river."

"Their tea is satisfactory," Kyouya offered. He faced her again, tilting his head down, as if to properly reassess her state. Sayuri rolled her eyes at the gesture. It was abundantly clear that she was fine, after all, and nothing ill had befallen her during the entire time she was away from his side, and was instead at Choyian's.

"A stingy compliment for one of Kou's oldest teahouses," The minister retorted. But again it was good-natured, and in fact Kyouya seemed to have expected it from him, with the way her friend disregarded the declaration in favor of approaching her.

"An enlightening walk through the western market, I gather?" He asked without preamble.

"In more ways than one," Sayuri smiled. "It was a little tiring, but I learned much."

Kyouya's slate grey eyes briefly slid over to the minister both on their minds, a questioning look on his face. She nodded and said aloud, "Minister Choyian was most helpful with his accompanying me today. We're planning to visit the other districts, as well as the eastern market this afternoon, once we finish at Lady Ruyi's."

"Are you sure this is wise?"

His voice was pitched low. But this close, she could see the concerned furrow to his brow, the displeased line his mouth made. She placed a hand on his shoulder and grinned, wriggling a mischievous brow. "Yes, I'm sure. Koumei saw fit to dispatch his own contingent of guards after all, I'm plenty sure I'll be safe."

She turned away, moving toward a large darkwood table near the balcony of the teahouse. Choyian offered her a seat at its head, which she thanked him for.

"You handled yourself extremely well today," The minister commented as he sat to her left. A slight wind breezed through the teahouse, and the lush smell of the flowering willow trees on the other side of the river was carried with it. "I'm still surprised to hear that today was your first time out of the imperial palace."

A few servants and the owner of the teahouse again came up with tea trays and a sumptuous selection of foods for lunch; there were dumplings, noodles, fruits, a platter of fresh vegetables and fish. Kyouya sat to her right as he replied, "The last month has not afforded many chances in particular to visit the rest of Rakushou."

"I've spent a considerable amount of time in the last ten years 'strolling' about markets," Sayuri added. "I hope to make these trips more routine. It was nice to be out today."

She gazed at the steaming clay teapot sitting in the middle of the table. By the way the proprietor fidgeted nervously to the side, the lunch setting was no doubt the best they had to offer; he bowed deeply as he stepped forward and nervously demonstrated brewing a pot of oolong, and as he was pouring her a cup of tea, Sayuri gestured at the empty chair beside Choyian.

"Please sit with us, good sir, and let me pour you a cup for welcoming me into your esteemed establishment," She said, "It is by your grace that we have a meal to eat and a place to rest our feet after a long morning's walk."

The wide grin that split Choyian's face was hard to ignore. At her side, Kyouya dipped his head lightly, though she knew to take it as his own tacit approval.

But the owner and proprietor bowed at the waist again, uttering how honored he was. The minister gave him a pat on the shoulder, and as Sayuri poured their third guest a cup of tea, she mentally prepared a number of topics of which they could all speak about.

There would only be more talk about tea culture and the history of the teahouse district in Rakushou, but Sayuri felt that this was the rightful way to spend their lunch, and she listened in to the proprietor's chatter, her mind at ease.

Being bowed to and being treated with great reverence by the common folk would always take some time to get used to. It was akin to the first day she spent in Kou, where people flooded the streets and chanted her name as she passed them by in her palanquin—she'd never met these people, and hadn't done anything for them, but still they paid their respects, like she was some great hero. She did not deserve any of their regard, but still they offered it up to her.

She thought back to her thoughts, just as they'd been entering the teahouse: did she make them nervous and anxious because she was the Crown Princess? Did they respect her and were eager to please her because she was married to Kouen, the dread champion of the Kou Empire? Did they do all these things because she was royalty, and her station—which was far above their own—demanded their fealty?

These were pointless questions to have.

Yes, she thought to herself as she ate another dumpling. To all three.

Obviously.

But that didn't stop her from feeling an overwhelming sense of duty and responsibility. She'd often felt the same way when she was younger and had a different husband, but the conclusion she'd come to had always stayed the same: Sayuri had to prove herself worthy of her title and the esteem of the common folk that came with it.

She glanced to her right. Having Kyouya's presence at her side was calming. The stoic-faced ambassador was presently engaged with the two other men at their table, and his familiar voice full of calm reason and steady support was something she realized she would sorely miss.

But it would be unwise to depend on him any longer than she already had; he was part of the Jishouan delegation.

Sayu glanced to her left. Choyian Chen sat, happily discussing his tea preferences. The proprietor was hooked on the conversation as well, but behind both of them was a sweeping window with its covers drawn, and the tall walls of the imperial palace loomed overhead.

The sky had darkened from its original clear blue to a grey; steadily, clouds rolled in and as night fell so did the thunder and rain. It was not quite a deluge, but it was heavy enough to muddy roads and hamper travel to the palace, and thus a war council had to be canceled. Kouen took the extra time to sort out military logistics with Koumei.

The thunder rolled and boomed, and they'd had to close secure the windows in his brother's study to avoid the lights from going out.

"It doesn't bode well for tomorrow's weather," Koumei said tiredly, setting a scroll down.

"It would seem so."

"I'll make the necessary preparations. However…"

Kouen looked up at that, lifting one brow at Koumei.

The younger man was stared fruitlessly at the closed windows. And then at the candles who were running low, obviously judging the amount of time they'd passed going over military operations together. He uncharacteristically fiddled with the fan of Dantalion as he spoke, "I don't believe we've received word of Sayuri's return to the palace yet."

As if on cue, there was another clap of thunder that resonated through the dimly lit room.

"They were supposed to return sometime mid afternoon," Koumei muttered quietly, as if to himself. "Strange that they would be delayed this long."

"We're finished here," Kouen replied. "Let me handle this."

His brother nodded, smothering his yawn with his fan. But still he contemplated the tightly closed windows on the one side of his study. Sayuri was still on his mind, it would seem, and as Kouen exited the room he made sure to send in one of his brother's attendants with a cup of chamomile.

Some of the hallways were wet with the rain, but he paid no mind to them as he made the short walk to his wing of the palace; some of the Jishouan guardsmen were stationed near Sayuri's chambers, but he saw no sign of his wife, or the bodyguard she brought with her everywhere she went.

It was only an hour later when Seishuu stepped into his study and informed him of the news. Sayuri's traveling party had finally made its way back into the imperial complex, and she'd been spotted heading in the direction of the imperial archives, Choyian Chen and Kyouya Korechika in tow.

And it was only another hour later when she hadn't returned to their wing that Kouen wrapped himself in his cloak, took his sword, and headed to the archives himself.

The towering building smelt of musty scrolls and wood, and the rain only exacerbated the scent. His footsteps were silent against the aged wooden floors, and his lantern only illuminated the path a few steps before him in the archives steeped in darkness. He followed the sound of voices, and as he drew nearer, he recognized his wife's quiet, lilting voice.

"Ah well today was good, but the rain was unexpected, wasn't it? I felt bad once we arrived at Lady Ruyi's, she was worried the water would ruin my robes."

There was a clear undercurrent of amusement in her tone. Someone shuffled their feet, and a man's voice spoke: "Surely you don't plan on staying here longer, after today."

It was the Ambassador, Korechika.

"Only for a little more. I'm sure you, however, have to head back now," His wife teased. "Thank you, for accompanying me back to the palace. You didn't have to, but you did. Thank you."

A pause. And then the sound of a sigh, and Korechika's voice having gone just as quiet as Sayuri's: "…anything, as always, Sayu. Good night to you."

Kouen met him between the bookshelves just as he was leaving. The man greeted him with an intensely pensive expression, but stopped and bowed as was appropriate when he saw Kouen standing there.

"Your Highness," He uttered. The Crown Prince merely nodded, before passing him without a second glance and turning the corner to where Sayuri was.

There were considerably more lanterns in her small area, where tables were pushed up against each other and books and scrolls and chairs were scattered about. Her jet black cloak was slung over one of the empty chairs, while she sat leisurely on another chair, her bare feet thrown over the arm of her seat; her elbow rested on the other chair arm, and she cradled her cheek in her palm as she held up a piece of paper to read.

He held his burning lantern low, so he was mostly shadowed in between the bookshelves. Sayuri, it seemed, had been burning the candle at both ends, and had found something to read as soon as she returned from her excursion that day.

Kouen stepped forward. The noise startled Sayuri, as she quickly looked up.

"Oh," The princess breathed, setting the paper on the desk. She put her feet down and stood, regarding him. Sayuri pursed her lips for a moment, before greeting, "Good, ah, evening, Kouen."

It was a habit of hers to stop whatever it was she was doing and acknowledge him whenever they met. He dipped his head in reply, and she looked back at her desk, her fingers twitching.

She looked out of place in the archives that night. She wore shades of burgundy, vibrant green, and white—a lighter version of the traditional Kou colors, and in her long silver hair that was already unraveling from its bun she still loosely wore the silver crane he'd gifted her the morning after their wedding.

It was a stark contrast to the darkness and orange light the candles cast upon the archives, as well as the steady beating of the rain overhead, but here Sayuri was anyway.

She had surprised him with her declaration yesterday.

To say I am yours, whenever you need me, to your husband was not untoward, but to hear it coming from her had been strange. He had not expected her to say it—but it was something he'd known implicitly all along, and he had expected her to understand it the same way. They were husband and wife, partner and partner, belonging to each other. That was always how he'd understood it, and to have it affirmed in words was needless.

Yet still he found himself frowning at her presence in the archives that night, with the thunderstorm raging outside. He began, "You were expected much earlier."

There had been a hint of censure in his tone. Why else would Sayuri be tilting her head at him playfully, a silver brow lifted in defiance? "Did Minister Choyian not send word that we would be touring the eastern market as well?"

"I asked Chen to accompany you as a request," He pointed out. "Whatever he does is his own will."

She seemed to process this.

It seemed something was on her mind. He was familiar with the way her forehead creased ever so slightly, and her pale green eyes turned distant as she thought something through. It was a calculating expression Kouen saw on her often, even when they weren't speaking to each other.

"Can I ask…how you know him?"

Kouen sat at one of the empty chairs. It was directly across where she'd been sitting, with her cloak slung over it, and she sat down too as he absently pondered her question. Why was she asking?

"Choyian Chen served as one of the former Emperor's generals. Chen retired from his post in the army when he passed away."

"…and then Choyian was made a minister for trade after. Is that so?"

He nodded.

"I see." Her stare was far-off as she contemplated his words. But then she blinked, and her eyes were clear again, squarely locking with his. "You could have told me, though. I had fully been expecting to spend the day with Kyouya."

"I could have," The prince conceded. "I was busy,"

Sayuri instantly sniffed at his words, regarding him with faint derision. "Really?"

Kouen then added, with his own brow raised, "And I was uncertain on whether or not he was accepting. He told me he would think upon the matter."

"Yes, you asked it of him," She said aloud.

Sayuri looked at him curiously.

"Why did you?"

Was that what this was about? She spent an ordinate amount of time doubting his motives, when he bore her no ill will. Kouen never had.

"There is none more familiar with trade than a trade minister, wouldn't you agree? And I trusted Chen to point you in the right path while navigating the markets."

"Were you trying to help me?"

He stared at her, this time. The question had been asked point blank, without pause. Kouen merely smirked. She was still far too suspicious.

"Yes, of course. You are my wife, are you not? It is my lot to help you, as your husband."

And he had surmised early on how much she was interested about that sort of thing. How could he have not? She always savored teas and specified what kind of blend she served, if she offered him a cup; she exchanged information with Koumei about the food they were eating, she discussed fabrics when she met Ruyi Qi.

The obliging reply was met with silence. Sayuri, his usually meticulously composed wife who had a retort ready for any instance, seemed genuinely surprised and speechless at his answer.

He found it amusing.

"You should know by now that I am yours," He purposely kept his tone deadpan when he echoed her words from yesterday.

Sayuri's eyes narrowed at him.

Then she sourly replied, "If I'd known earlier that you had a real sense of humor, my dear husband, we would've had more interesting conversations by now."

"I would say we've done well thus far," He uttered drolly. "If that's what you wished."

Sayu tilted her head at him, as if she'd come to examine him in a new light.

She didn't deign his rejoinder with another reply, but instead she looked away, and sincerely said: "Let me thank you, then. Minister Choyian was most helpful today.

"But you don't mention Koumei's involvement."

The prince could tell it was a point of contention for her, and he seamlessly countered with: "I asked him to make sure you were well-protected. What he does is also his own will.

"The reason I'm here is to see with my own eyes that you've returned safely. My brother trusts no one else, and at this hour has probably dozed for a long nap. When he awakens he will be anxious to receive word of your wellbeing, word that I can give him."

"And what? No concern for me?"

The mock was sharp, and her eyes showed no amusement at all. But Kouen was unfazed. "It goes without saying, like many other things, that I want to keep you safe."

It was ironic that he had to remind her of all these things, because she had been the one that had been married before their own union came into being.

But, he supposed, some things were better off said.

Sayuri sighed and raised one delicate hand to her head, to pull the silver hairpin out of her hair.

The long strands tumbled around her face and she gazed at the ornament he'd given her for a split second, before tucking it into her robes and rising from her seat.

She combed a hand through her hair as she approached him, and took the paper she'd previously been reading in another. "Now I presume I owe you an explanation for why I've been here so late."

As she handed him the paper, he was afforded a closer look at it: under the candlelight, he could make out the folds in the paper and the formal handwriting of a carefully constructed business letter addressed to Sayuri.

"All the merchant houses in the Triangle know I'm a princess of Kou, now," She said by way of explanation. "Inquiring minds have been writing to me. Minister Choyian and Kyouya were in here with me sorting through it all; this is just one of the letters that I want to pass on to the minister tomorrow."

He handed the piece back to her. This was something he concerned himself little with, and it was obvious the matter was already being handled by someone competent.

"The hour is late, Sayuri."

Sayuri merely snorted in reply, gathered her papers, and began to put out the candles one by one.

Kouen rose from his seat, gathering her cloak from the back of the chair and patiently holding it out for her as she slipped her shoes on.

He had to slip his own cloak over her to protect the letters she was holding, because the walk to their wing was not entirely unhampered by the rains.

Her silver hair was stuck to her forehead, and she peeled his damp cloak off of her, offering it to him with something approaching a crooked smile on her face. "Here."

A few of her guards, who'd followed them from the archives, hovered concernedly in the background. But Sayuri's eyes were clearly on him, and he took his cloak back by the gold pauldron attached to it and folded the long fabric in his arms.

Kouen nodded, and she disappeared into her own chambers with nothing more than a simple quirk of her lips tossed at him over her shoulder. Her guards arranged themselves into place, but they nodded respectfully as he passed them on the way to his own chambers on the other side of the square hallway.

Seishuu and Gaku Kin were by his doors, but inside, it was only him in his rooms. After he made sure to send a note to his brother about Sayuri's safe arrival, he gazed at his too-wide bed sitting patiently on the other end of the chamber, waiting for him. He set aside his cloak and his sword in its scabbard.

Outside, the rain continued its harsh pounding. The thunder echoed in his empty chamber.

He blew out the last candle on his bedside table. Then Kouen laid on his side, occupying only half of his bed.

The princess had insisted on a bath before sleeping, but when Davvid came back to her bedchamber she was already changed into her sleeping robes, penning some kind of letter at a low table.

The magister read a scant few lines over her shoulder, Not much has happened thus far, though Kou itself and the Imperial Family are truly disorienting at times to deal with…

"Got something for me?" He asked with the beginnings of a grin. It seemed like she was writing something for the kid, Alihaddra—and he stifled the mental image of a ridiculously-happy-but-trying-his-damnedest-to-restrain-it Ali as he held his princess's letter in his hands.

Sayu chuckled, shaking her head. "Unfortunately, no. It's not truly an emergency if I'm just asking for his advice and writing to him about how quaint my days are, here."

The reply made him sit down before her and survey the princess critically. "Now, you're sure about this? I'm pretty sure he wouldn't mind getting a letter from you."

In fact he'd be waiting for it, his mind internally added.

The princess, it seemed, was finished with her letter as she put her brush down and waited for the ink to dry. She yawned, before looking at him with a smile. "I'm sure. Kyouya will be returning to the Triangle in a bit, so he can take the letter with him and make sure it gets into the hands of the right people."

"But that would take ages."

Sayu shrugged. Then she stood, and made her way over to her bed. Davvid followed curiously, and Fuu was also standing nearby, holding a tray with the princess's drained cup of nightly tea. "Worry not. That's the way it's always been between us."

The princess turned to him one last time, her smile frozen on her mouth. "And I'll still be here when his reply arrives. However long it takes."

Notes:

Sorry about the late update, but uni is crazy. And I just switched majors! I also stumble on a lot of interesting historical things while researching for this fic, but either way I end up telling myself while writing, "it doesn't even have to be that historically accurate...this is Magi we're talking about, remember?"

(1) Title is a reference to that novel - Far From the Madding Crowd, which in itself is a reference, hey. This chapter's a collection of POVs from different people (a "crowd"), so...take that as you will.

(2) It's kinda weird how Sayu and Kouen's married life ended up. Imo, Kouen is really busy as general commander of the entire Kou army, and doesn't really care about a lot of court functions, so his marriage is sidelined on his list of priorities. Not that either of them seem to mind...for now.

(3) A response to morpheusandmuse's anon review: [nervous laugh] thank you for your kind words! I'm sorry if Sayuri is kind of lost about her role in Kou, but in these chapters we're going to get down to the nitty gritty about it. I really do hope I don't disappoint, since I am excited to write the stuff's that going to go down next. And I can only keep my lips sealed about the rest of your wonderful review! Ah!

As always, thanks to everyone that faved, followed, and reviewed this fic - it's always a pleasure. Plus, I had a swell time reading last chapter's reviews, ahaha. Leave me a note if you've any constructive criticism, questions, concerns, etc. They're always welcome :-)