Daphne: "Here is the second chapter! Enjoy!
Kero: "These are becoming really short, you know! You should talk about interesting things, before you start the story!"
Daphne: *sigh* "Kero, there is pudding for you in the kitchens-"
Kero: looks exited "Pudding! Yay!" Flies out of the room
Daphne: "Thank heavens! He has been bothering me all day! Anyway, please tell me what you think of the second chapter! I really like to hear from you! By the way, this chapter starts with a chapter from Sakura's book again, but after this, there will be no more of it."
~*~*~*~
Refuge
By: Daphne Li
Chapter 2.
~*~*~*~
As they walked down a new, more lighted hallway, Samirah tried to ignore the fact that Cornea was glaring heatedly at her. Instead, she watched every door they passed, so she would know just where to go if there was any need to get something for the prince.heaven forbid!
"These are your rooms. Put something suitable on, and meet me out here in ten minutes." Cornea commanded, turning on her heal and leaving Samirah to her own devices. With a sigh, Samirah entered into the room and looked around, gaping. It was huge! She had never seen a bedchamber this large!
The room was dim, but from what she could see, it was painted white with blue trim. The bed was a four-poster, hung with blue drapes and it boasted a fluffy blue comforter. There was a huge wardrobe near the end of the room, and there was a fireplace across from her bed. On the other side of her room was a mirrored vanity and a pink pouf for her to sit on. Near the fireplace was a bookshelf, full of books with interesting titles, that she vowed to read later, if possible. Right now, she had best be getting into that new dress.
She sighed and began to dig through her new wardrobe, trying to find the right dress. Finally, she picked out a light pink gown and slipped it on. It was a pretty dress, not very fancy, but lovely in its cut, with a full- skirt and puffy pink sleeves that reached to her wrists. It had a high waistline, and a modest squared neck. When she was through, she quickly walked over to her vanity table, picked up a brush, and quickly brushed out her hair, securing it back in a low ponytail with a light pink ribbon. She realized that she still had a few moments to spare, so she sat down on a chair in front of the cold fireplace and thought over how she had come to be here.
Samirah could remember nothing of her distant past, though the nearer past was not so hard to forget, though she would have preferred it. She had worked for a rich merchant during the first few years of her life, but he had sold her to a sailor, who was headed out to sea. The sailor, who's name was Franz, had been kind to her, and she had grown to love him like a father. However, he happiness was not long-lived. When she was eleven, their cargo ship was attacked by pirates, and Samirah had been kidnapped.
The pirates had sold her to an inn keeper, who Samirah found cruel, dirty and horrid. He used to beat her and he always smelt of old whiskey. Samirah had worked for him until she had turned eighteen. Then the inn went into bankruptcy and the innkeeper had been forced to sell her. Samirah had been quite happy to escape the man.until she was purchased by the king's soldiers.
When she found out that she was to be a birthday present for the prince, she had been horrified and would have ended her life then, if she had had the chance. Unfortunately, there was nothing then, or now, to perform the deed with, so she would have to suffer though this next hardship in her life as well. Damn those pirates! If not for them, she would still be happily living with Franz.
"Are you done yet, wretch?" Cornea's annoying voice broke through her thoughts. Samirah groaned softly, and then rose to follow the irate woman. Cornea lead her to the next doors on the right and flung them open, pushing her inside.
"Good luck." The older slave sneered, softly closing the door behind her. Samirah shivered and walked into the room that was dimmer than hers. Here she was, facing her horrible fate, and all she could think of was how rude Cornea was! With a soft groan of annoyance, dread and terror, Samirah entered the room further, searching for some sign of the man that was to be her master.
There came a soft sound, like a sigh. Samirah's head jerked over to a corner of the room, where there resided a window seat. And in that seat, sat the form of a tall, broad-shouldered man. Samirah shuddered and dared not make a sound.
The man shifted, and moved more into the light coming from the window, so Samirah could see him. He had midnight-black hair, that was cut Paige-boy style, and he wore a rich wine-red doublet, over a white shirt. His knee- breaches were red as well, and in his lap rested a pad of paper and a quill. She couldn't see his face, until he turned it thoughtfully towards her. He had deep, midnight-blue eyes, and a smooth pale face, that was quite unlike his fathers in every way. Samirah caught her breath, and worked hard not to frown at him; even though he seemed nice, you could never tell from the outer shell. Somehow, he seemed to know just what she was thinking, because he stood up, gently setting down his things in the process, and bowed deeply to her.
~*~
Carlondon sighed as he entered his room and collapsed on his window seat. His father had just informed him that as a twenty-first Birthday present, he had bought a lady-slave for his son. Carlondon was disgusted, and nearly informed his father so, but quickly caught himself before any harm was done. His father never liked it when his children went against his word.
"Poor girl." Carlondon thought, violently hoping that the girl wouldn't be like his father's lady-slave, Cornea, who willingly gave herself up and considered it an honor. Ha! Some honor! Carlondon felt sorry that anyone had to go through such humiliation at this. He even felt embarrassed that his father believed that he was that type of person.
"Oh, well. I will treat her as I see best." He mussed, pulling a quill and his drawing pad out of a drawer that resided under his window seat. This was Carlondon's one passion.drawing. He loved to draw landscapes and sunsets, and sometimes even people. He never allowed his father to know about his talent, but his mother and sisters knew quite well about it, and had even allowed him to occasionally draw them.
'You should never suppress a person's talent. You never know where it may take them.or you.' His mother sometimes quoted, when they were alone. Carlondon admired his mother very much, and she seemed to understand him well enough. Slowly, Carlondon sketched out an image of a cloudy day, where the clouds were just overtaking the sun, and hiding its light. Seagulls flew about, as if there was a high wind, and the gray of the clouds was ominous. He shifted, to get better light from the sun outside, and as he did, he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye.
With a start, Carlondon turned to see a young woman standing near the door, an unreadable look on her face. Carlondon nearly caught his breath as he gazed at the beauty in front of him. She had long, light-brown hair, and intelligent blue eyes. She was clad in a light pink dress, that suited her well, and her hair was pulled back by a pink ribbon. She was petite, but she had an air of strong-will about her, that pleased him. Finally, after staring at her a few moments, he regained his voice and bowed to her.
"You must be Lady Samirah. My father told me to expect you. I am Carlondon, and you may call me by that, if you wish. I hate formalities." He explained in his rich, well-trained voice. He saw her jump, obviously she was not expecting him to speak, and her eyes flashed with shock for a moment, before becoming unreadable again.
"Thank you.but I couldn't possibly." She said softly, curtseying to him. Hmmm. Even more strong willed than he had first thought. But he knew why she was acting this way.
"I will not hurt you. I am not like my father in that way. I prefer to respect women, rather than belittle them. Now, I trust that you have been shown your rooms, but I would like to tell you that the gardens and libraries are for your use as well. You are also welcome to go into the town, if you so desire, but I will require that you take my most trusted soldier along, just in case. I will order for a maid to come up to your rooms, and she will be at your disposal. You will have your meals in your room with her, if you so please. Have you any questions?" He asked, carefully watching her face. Her eyes had begun to gleam with amusement.
"I am glad to hear that, you are very kind, yes, I would like that, that sounds nice, and no." She said, answering to everything that he had said. For a moment, Carlondon was struck into a shocked silence, but then laughter burst out of his lips and he nearly doubled over with it. Her face split into a trembling smile.
"You are funny! I like that. Pray tell, what is your full name?" He asked, straightening up and grinning at her. She looked at her hands.
"I do not know. The only name that I have ever known is Samirah. It was on a necklace that was found in my possession when I was sold the first time." She answered, opening up at bit more. Carlondon frowned.
"You were sold? How many times?" He asked. He face fell a bit.
"Three times, I believe. First by a merchant, when I was small. Then a sailor. Next was an innkeeper and last was.you." She said. His frown deepened.
"You mean that you have never really had a happy life?" He asked sullenly. She smiled a bit.
"Well, when I was with the sailor, I was quite happy. He treated me like a daughter, and I loved him very much.but then the pirates kidnapped me and sold me to the innkeeper." She said, her face turning neutral again, though he had seen a flash of pain in her eyes when she had mentioned the kind sailor man. Carlondon smiled. At least she had had a bit of happiness during her miserable life. Perhaps he could rekindle that joy. He pointed to a nearby chair, indicating that she sit on it.
"Now, I want us to really get to know each other. You have told me about you, but now, I will tell you about myself." He said, sounding much like a young boy. Samirah smiled and sat down, listening as he began:
"My mother is a kind woman, quite unlike my father in every way. She has this air about her that simply makes you love her."
~*~*~*~
*Back in Sakura's bedchamber*
Sakura looked out the window and sighed. She had been trying to concentrate on her book, but found that the uncertainty of the day was too much for her. Her father had announced at breakfast that the slaves would be arriving that day, and several wealthy business owners and town's people had already shown interest in the new 'slave market'. This news had done nothing to increase Fujitaka's, now dwindling popularity with his son, daughter and niece, but he still firmly sat upon his decision.
With another sigh, Sakura smoothed the wrinkles in her full-skirted, green silk dress that had white lace running along the top of the neckline and the bottom of the sleeves and skirt. A white sash was tied around the waist of the dress, and the ends of the sash fluttered down almost the whole length of the skirt. Tomoyo had made the dress for her, and had insisted that she wear it. Her waist length auburn hair was left down today, since she had no plans of leaving her room for a while, and it waved down her back like a silken sheet. A sudden noise broke through her thoughts, and she looked up to see her cousin entering her room.
"This is not right. This is not right. This.." Tomoyo repeated, as she walked into the room, unconscious of the fact that Sakura had begun to stare at her funny. She paced back and forth, her head in her hands, causing her auburn haired cousin to frown in confusion.
"What is not right?" She asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer. It was worse than what she had expected.
"Uncle has brought some of the slaves here. Here! To this very palace!" She moaned, causing Sakura to jolt up off her window seat and the book to fall from her lap.
"What?! Here, now? Why?"
"He said we needed more workers, ones that could be disciplined if they disobeyed orders and such." Tomoyo sighed, collapsing onto Sakura's bed. Sakura's eyes flashed. Her lips pinched together. Her hands clenched into fists, until her nails impaled the soft flesh of her palms.
"How could he? How could he say things like that?" She hissed, walking out of the room. Never, in all of Tomoyo's eighteen years, had she *EVER* seen Sakura this angry before. Even though Tomoyo could not see Sakura's pink aura, she was sure that it was very dark and angry right now. Tomoyo followed her cousin down into the lower palace area, and to the hallway just outside the throne-room, where King Fujitaka now stood, conversing with Touya and two of his best soldiers, Yamazaki Takashi, and Yukito, one of Touya's best friends. Three other young men, Hikotaro Omata, Yusuo Miyazawa and Matoo Ukawa (a/n: these are real Japanese names!), who were also soldiers for her father, stood in the background, listening carefully.
"Father, tell me that Tomoyo was joking." Sakura said in a deadly serious voice, as she halted behind her father. Fujitaka spun around to look at his shockingly calm daughter.
"What do you mean, darling?" He asked in confusion. Sakura let out a sigh.
"I mean, you wouldn't have possibly allowed any of those poor people to come here." She said softly, her voice still echoing off the walls of the hall and into the throne room. Fujitaka shifted uncomfortably.
"And why wouldn't I?" He asked. It was then that the horrid reality hit her full force.
"NO! Father no! You couldn't! You wouldn't! They are people too, to be treated with kindness and respect! You have no right.."
"I have every right! They are our enemies, and you are not to feel any compassion for them! They are not your concern! You should be worried about finding a husband and settling down..not how we treat these *slaves*." Fujitaka boomed. Touya, Yamazaki, Yukito, and Tomoyo all looked apprehensive. Sakura, however, fell back as though he had slapped her. Her cheeks turned pink and her eyes filled with tears. Immediately, her father regretted his rash words, but there was no time to apologize, for Sakura had taken flight. She rushed out of the hall and into the throne-room, with only one thought in mind. Get away from her father, NOW!
Tears blinded her, and unable to see where she was going, she tripped and fell onto a reclining couch that stood at the other end of the room, her sobs ringing out like sweet pleadings for comfort. How could he be so cruel? Marriage? How was she supposed to think about a thing like that, while something completely new and alien was going on around her? How could he say that? Gradually, her soft sobs became deep gasps of air, as she tried to regain her breath. She lay prostrate on the couch, her head buried in her arms, and her shoulders heaving with suppressed sorrow.
As her raging feelings calmed, she became aware of things around her. She realized that she had run into the throne-room and that the couch that she was in, was right by the huge french doors that led to the balcony. Outside, the day was calm and sunny, and the birds were chirping lovingly, as though they meant to comfort the distraught girl.
Sakura smiled weakly as one blue-bird flew right past the window next to her, chirping happily. But then Sakura sensed that something was not right. Although everything outside seemed fine, it was inside that something was wrong. The throne-room was too quiet, as though someone had whisked all the life-force out of it. It was silent but an alarming feeling told Sakura that she was not alone in the room. Slowly, as though she was trying not to frighten something away, Sakura lifted her upper body off the couch and rested the palms of her hands on the cushions. Then, as if she were electrocuted, Sakura jumped off the couch and her head wiped around to face the far end of the room, with a gasp.
There, standing in the shadows of the room, stood dozens upon dozens of men, women and even some children. Some wore ragged clothing that seemed to have been made from old potato bags, others wore would-be rich clothing, that showed that they had once had some amounts of money in their pockets. Some gazed back at her in curiosity, others, in open loathing. Others refused to meet her gaze, and simply stared or glared at the floors.
Sakura, however, was frozen in her position, unable to move, speak, or even breath. So this was where her father had brought the slaves! To this very room! And she had never even seen them! Granted, she had been to distraught to notice their presence at first, but now, she gazed at them with hidden horror, and open curiosity. How foolish she must have looked, rocketing into this room, sobbing as though there was no tomorrow! What an impression to make on their first meeting..or was it?
Several of the 'slaves' had been near to breaking away from the guards who were guarding them, and attempting to kill the King, but when Sakura had entered the room, almost all of them had lost their taste for blood in the wonder of seeing this beautiful, angelic girl sobbing so broken-heartedly. And yes, they had heard everything that had passed between the king and his daughter, which had improved her appearance in their eyes even more. Still, some of them were skeptical.
Still Sakura stood, too shocked for words. Her wide green eyes passing over several interesting people. There were three girls nearest to her, who were staring back at her and shaking. They were all wearing dirty, silk dresses, which was a sign that they had once held some rank. Then there was the two young men of about twenty, who were looking at her with something near admiration. Then there was the baby.the baby that couldn't have been any older than a few weeks. It was being held by an older woman, who was rocking it gently and looking apprehensively at the princess.
Then again, there were four other girls, who's ages were ranging between twenty-one and twenty-four. Last of all, Sakura's eyes caught on a young man, with chestnut hair, about her own age. He was gazing at the floor with such loathing, that it almost frightened her into movement. Suddenly, as though he could feel her looking at him, his eyes looked up and met hers. Sakura's heart nearly stopped. The loathing had not left his face, but she found herself drowning in a pair of cold, emotionless pools of amber. She didn't know it, but her emerald green eyes widened, and she got an almost confused look on her face. He held her gaze steadily, almost as though he were probing into her for information. Though she could see nothing beyond the cold hard amber, she had a feeling that they were hiding something very importent~like a secret, or something of the sort..
"Sakura, leave this room at once!" Came a harsh voice. Sakura jumped and tore her eyes from the boy, to meet her father's eyes. The King stood in the far doorway, his face shrouded in shadow, but she could tell that his face was a thundercloud. She also knew that he expected her to leave by way of the door behind him, but little did he know just how much anger she still held for him. She frowned slightly, and then turned on her heal. She walked over to the immense french doors and pushed them open, letting the sunlight burst into the room. She then walked out onto the balcony, and disappeared down into the gardens without a word.
No, Sakura had *never* been this angry before. And though she felt that she had reason to be, she made a mental note never to allow herself to get this upset again. It really did nothing to improve the headache that she had had before this whole ordeal. With a sigh, she ambled down one of the garden paths, her thoughts jumbled and confused. But one thing stood out. The image of that young man who had stared at her right back, as though he was not afraid of her..and now that she thought about it, he probably hadn't been at all!
~*~*~*~
Kero: "These are becoming really short, you know! You should talk about interesting things, before you start the story!"
Daphne: *sigh* "Kero, there is pudding for you in the kitchens-"
Kero: looks exited "Pudding! Yay!" Flies out of the room
Daphne: "Thank heavens! He has been bothering me all day! Anyway, please tell me what you think of the second chapter! I really like to hear from you! By the way, this chapter starts with a chapter from Sakura's book again, but after this, there will be no more of it."
~*~*~*~
Refuge
By: Daphne Li
Chapter 2.
~*~*~*~
As they walked down a new, more lighted hallway, Samirah tried to ignore the fact that Cornea was glaring heatedly at her. Instead, she watched every door they passed, so she would know just where to go if there was any need to get something for the prince.heaven forbid!
"These are your rooms. Put something suitable on, and meet me out here in ten minutes." Cornea commanded, turning on her heal and leaving Samirah to her own devices. With a sigh, Samirah entered into the room and looked around, gaping. It was huge! She had never seen a bedchamber this large!
The room was dim, but from what she could see, it was painted white with blue trim. The bed was a four-poster, hung with blue drapes and it boasted a fluffy blue comforter. There was a huge wardrobe near the end of the room, and there was a fireplace across from her bed. On the other side of her room was a mirrored vanity and a pink pouf for her to sit on. Near the fireplace was a bookshelf, full of books with interesting titles, that she vowed to read later, if possible. Right now, she had best be getting into that new dress.
She sighed and began to dig through her new wardrobe, trying to find the right dress. Finally, she picked out a light pink gown and slipped it on. It was a pretty dress, not very fancy, but lovely in its cut, with a full- skirt and puffy pink sleeves that reached to her wrists. It had a high waistline, and a modest squared neck. When she was through, she quickly walked over to her vanity table, picked up a brush, and quickly brushed out her hair, securing it back in a low ponytail with a light pink ribbon. She realized that she still had a few moments to spare, so she sat down on a chair in front of the cold fireplace and thought over how she had come to be here.
Samirah could remember nothing of her distant past, though the nearer past was not so hard to forget, though she would have preferred it. She had worked for a rich merchant during the first few years of her life, but he had sold her to a sailor, who was headed out to sea. The sailor, who's name was Franz, had been kind to her, and she had grown to love him like a father. However, he happiness was not long-lived. When she was eleven, their cargo ship was attacked by pirates, and Samirah had been kidnapped.
The pirates had sold her to an inn keeper, who Samirah found cruel, dirty and horrid. He used to beat her and he always smelt of old whiskey. Samirah had worked for him until she had turned eighteen. Then the inn went into bankruptcy and the innkeeper had been forced to sell her. Samirah had been quite happy to escape the man.until she was purchased by the king's soldiers.
When she found out that she was to be a birthday present for the prince, she had been horrified and would have ended her life then, if she had had the chance. Unfortunately, there was nothing then, or now, to perform the deed with, so she would have to suffer though this next hardship in her life as well. Damn those pirates! If not for them, she would still be happily living with Franz.
"Are you done yet, wretch?" Cornea's annoying voice broke through her thoughts. Samirah groaned softly, and then rose to follow the irate woman. Cornea lead her to the next doors on the right and flung them open, pushing her inside.
"Good luck." The older slave sneered, softly closing the door behind her. Samirah shivered and walked into the room that was dimmer than hers. Here she was, facing her horrible fate, and all she could think of was how rude Cornea was! With a soft groan of annoyance, dread and terror, Samirah entered the room further, searching for some sign of the man that was to be her master.
There came a soft sound, like a sigh. Samirah's head jerked over to a corner of the room, where there resided a window seat. And in that seat, sat the form of a tall, broad-shouldered man. Samirah shuddered and dared not make a sound.
The man shifted, and moved more into the light coming from the window, so Samirah could see him. He had midnight-black hair, that was cut Paige-boy style, and he wore a rich wine-red doublet, over a white shirt. His knee- breaches were red as well, and in his lap rested a pad of paper and a quill. She couldn't see his face, until he turned it thoughtfully towards her. He had deep, midnight-blue eyes, and a smooth pale face, that was quite unlike his fathers in every way. Samirah caught her breath, and worked hard not to frown at him; even though he seemed nice, you could never tell from the outer shell. Somehow, he seemed to know just what she was thinking, because he stood up, gently setting down his things in the process, and bowed deeply to her.
~*~
Carlondon sighed as he entered his room and collapsed on his window seat. His father had just informed him that as a twenty-first Birthday present, he had bought a lady-slave for his son. Carlondon was disgusted, and nearly informed his father so, but quickly caught himself before any harm was done. His father never liked it when his children went against his word.
"Poor girl." Carlondon thought, violently hoping that the girl wouldn't be like his father's lady-slave, Cornea, who willingly gave herself up and considered it an honor. Ha! Some honor! Carlondon felt sorry that anyone had to go through such humiliation at this. He even felt embarrassed that his father believed that he was that type of person.
"Oh, well. I will treat her as I see best." He mussed, pulling a quill and his drawing pad out of a drawer that resided under his window seat. This was Carlondon's one passion.drawing. He loved to draw landscapes and sunsets, and sometimes even people. He never allowed his father to know about his talent, but his mother and sisters knew quite well about it, and had even allowed him to occasionally draw them.
'You should never suppress a person's talent. You never know where it may take them.or you.' His mother sometimes quoted, when they were alone. Carlondon admired his mother very much, and she seemed to understand him well enough. Slowly, Carlondon sketched out an image of a cloudy day, where the clouds were just overtaking the sun, and hiding its light. Seagulls flew about, as if there was a high wind, and the gray of the clouds was ominous. He shifted, to get better light from the sun outside, and as he did, he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye.
With a start, Carlondon turned to see a young woman standing near the door, an unreadable look on her face. Carlondon nearly caught his breath as he gazed at the beauty in front of him. She had long, light-brown hair, and intelligent blue eyes. She was clad in a light pink dress, that suited her well, and her hair was pulled back by a pink ribbon. She was petite, but she had an air of strong-will about her, that pleased him. Finally, after staring at her a few moments, he regained his voice and bowed to her.
"You must be Lady Samirah. My father told me to expect you. I am Carlondon, and you may call me by that, if you wish. I hate formalities." He explained in his rich, well-trained voice. He saw her jump, obviously she was not expecting him to speak, and her eyes flashed with shock for a moment, before becoming unreadable again.
"Thank you.but I couldn't possibly." She said softly, curtseying to him. Hmmm. Even more strong willed than he had first thought. But he knew why she was acting this way.
"I will not hurt you. I am not like my father in that way. I prefer to respect women, rather than belittle them. Now, I trust that you have been shown your rooms, but I would like to tell you that the gardens and libraries are for your use as well. You are also welcome to go into the town, if you so desire, but I will require that you take my most trusted soldier along, just in case. I will order for a maid to come up to your rooms, and she will be at your disposal. You will have your meals in your room with her, if you so please. Have you any questions?" He asked, carefully watching her face. Her eyes had begun to gleam with amusement.
"I am glad to hear that, you are very kind, yes, I would like that, that sounds nice, and no." She said, answering to everything that he had said. For a moment, Carlondon was struck into a shocked silence, but then laughter burst out of his lips and he nearly doubled over with it. Her face split into a trembling smile.
"You are funny! I like that. Pray tell, what is your full name?" He asked, straightening up and grinning at her. She looked at her hands.
"I do not know. The only name that I have ever known is Samirah. It was on a necklace that was found in my possession when I was sold the first time." She answered, opening up at bit more. Carlondon frowned.
"You were sold? How many times?" He asked. He face fell a bit.
"Three times, I believe. First by a merchant, when I was small. Then a sailor. Next was an innkeeper and last was.you." She said. His frown deepened.
"You mean that you have never really had a happy life?" He asked sullenly. She smiled a bit.
"Well, when I was with the sailor, I was quite happy. He treated me like a daughter, and I loved him very much.but then the pirates kidnapped me and sold me to the innkeeper." She said, her face turning neutral again, though he had seen a flash of pain in her eyes when she had mentioned the kind sailor man. Carlondon smiled. At least she had had a bit of happiness during her miserable life. Perhaps he could rekindle that joy. He pointed to a nearby chair, indicating that she sit on it.
"Now, I want us to really get to know each other. You have told me about you, but now, I will tell you about myself." He said, sounding much like a young boy. Samirah smiled and sat down, listening as he began:
"My mother is a kind woman, quite unlike my father in every way. She has this air about her that simply makes you love her."
~*~*~*~
*Back in Sakura's bedchamber*
Sakura looked out the window and sighed. She had been trying to concentrate on her book, but found that the uncertainty of the day was too much for her. Her father had announced at breakfast that the slaves would be arriving that day, and several wealthy business owners and town's people had already shown interest in the new 'slave market'. This news had done nothing to increase Fujitaka's, now dwindling popularity with his son, daughter and niece, but he still firmly sat upon his decision.
With another sigh, Sakura smoothed the wrinkles in her full-skirted, green silk dress that had white lace running along the top of the neckline and the bottom of the sleeves and skirt. A white sash was tied around the waist of the dress, and the ends of the sash fluttered down almost the whole length of the skirt. Tomoyo had made the dress for her, and had insisted that she wear it. Her waist length auburn hair was left down today, since she had no plans of leaving her room for a while, and it waved down her back like a silken sheet. A sudden noise broke through her thoughts, and she looked up to see her cousin entering her room.
"This is not right. This is not right. This.." Tomoyo repeated, as she walked into the room, unconscious of the fact that Sakura had begun to stare at her funny. She paced back and forth, her head in her hands, causing her auburn haired cousin to frown in confusion.
"What is not right?" She asked hesitantly, afraid of the answer. It was worse than what she had expected.
"Uncle has brought some of the slaves here. Here! To this very palace!" She moaned, causing Sakura to jolt up off her window seat and the book to fall from her lap.
"What?! Here, now? Why?"
"He said we needed more workers, ones that could be disciplined if they disobeyed orders and such." Tomoyo sighed, collapsing onto Sakura's bed. Sakura's eyes flashed. Her lips pinched together. Her hands clenched into fists, until her nails impaled the soft flesh of her palms.
"How could he? How could he say things like that?" She hissed, walking out of the room. Never, in all of Tomoyo's eighteen years, had she *EVER* seen Sakura this angry before. Even though Tomoyo could not see Sakura's pink aura, she was sure that it was very dark and angry right now. Tomoyo followed her cousin down into the lower palace area, and to the hallway just outside the throne-room, where King Fujitaka now stood, conversing with Touya and two of his best soldiers, Yamazaki Takashi, and Yukito, one of Touya's best friends. Three other young men, Hikotaro Omata, Yusuo Miyazawa and Matoo Ukawa (a/n: these are real Japanese names!), who were also soldiers for her father, stood in the background, listening carefully.
"Father, tell me that Tomoyo was joking." Sakura said in a deadly serious voice, as she halted behind her father. Fujitaka spun around to look at his shockingly calm daughter.
"What do you mean, darling?" He asked in confusion. Sakura let out a sigh.
"I mean, you wouldn't have possibly allowed any of those poor people to come here." She said softly, her voice still echoing off the walls of the hall and into the throne room. Fujitaka shifted uncomfortably.
"And why wouldn't I?" He asked. It was then that the horrid reality hit her full force.
"NO! Father no! You couldn't! You wouldn't! They are people too, to be treated with kindness and respect! You have no right.."
"I have every right! They are our enemies, and you are not to feel any compassion for them! They are not your concern! You should be worried about finding a husband and settling down..not how we treat these *slaves*." Fujitaka boomed. Touya, Yamazaki, Yukito, and Tomoyo all looked apprehensive. Sakura, however, fell back as though he had slapped her. Her cheeks turned pink and her eyes filled with tears. Immediately, her father regretted his rash words, but there was no time to apologize, for Sakura had taken flight. She rushed out of the hall and into the throne-room, with only one thought in mind. Get away from her father, NOW!
Tears blinded her, and unable to see where she was going, she tripped and fell onto a reclining couch that stood at the other end of the room, her sobs ringing out like sweet pleadings for comfort. How could he be so cruel? Marriage? How was she supposed to think about a thing like that, while something completely new and alien was going on around her? How could he say that? Gradually, her soft sobs became deep gasps of air, as she tried to regain her breath. She lay prostrate on the couch, her head buried in her arms, and her shoulders heaving with suppressed sorrow.
As her raging feelings calmed, she became aware of things around her. She realized that she had run into the throne-room and that the couch that she was in, was right by the huge french doors that led to the balcony. Outside, the day was calm and sunny, and the birds were chirping lovingly, as though they meant to comfort the distraught girl.
Sakura smiled weakly as one blue-bird flew right past the window next to her, chirping happily. But then Sakura sensed that something was not right. Although everything outside seemed fine, it was inside that something was wrong. The throne-room was too quiet, as though someone had whisked all the life-force out of it. It was silent but an alarming feeling told Sakura that she was not alone in the room. Slowly, as though she was trying not to frighten something away, Sakura lifted her upper body off the couch and rested the palms of her hands on the cushions. Then, as if she were electrocuted, Sakura jumped off the couch and her head wiped around to face the far end of the room, with a gasp.
There, standing in the shadows of the room, stood dozens upon dozens of men, women and even some children. Some wore ragged clothing that seemed to have been made from old potato bags, others wore would-be rich clothing, that showed that they had once had some amounts of money in their pockets. Some gazed back at her in curiosity, others, in open loathing. Others refused to meet her gaze, and simply stared or glared at the floors.
Sakura, however, was frozen in her position, unable to move, speak, or even breath. So this was where her father had brought the slaves! To this very room! And she had never even seen them! Granted, she had been to distraught to notice their presence at first, but now, she gazed at them with hidden horror, and open curiosity. How foolish she must have looked, rocketing into this room, sobbing as though there was no tomorrow! What an impression to make on their first meeting..or was it?
Several of the 'slaves' had been near to breaking away from the guards who were guarding them, and attempting to kill the King, but when Sakura had entered the room, almost all of them had lost their taste for blood in the wonder of seeing this beautiful, angelic girl sobbing so broken-heartedly. And yes, they had heard everything that had passed between the king and his daughter, which had improved her appearance in their eyes even more. Still, some of them were skeptical.
Still Sakura stood, too shocked for words. Her wide green eyes passing over several interesting people. There were three girls nearest to her, who were staring back at her and shaking. They were all wearing dirty, silk dresses, which was a sign that they had once held some rank. Then there was the two young men of about twenty, who were looking at her with something near admiration. Then there was the baby.the baby that couldn't have been any older than a few weeks. It was being held by an older woman, who was rocking it gently and looking apprehensively at the princess.
Then again, there were four other girls, who's ages were ranging between twenty-one and twenty-four. Last of all, Sakura's eyes caught on a young man, with chestnut hair, about her own age. He was gazing at the floor with such loathing, that it almost frightened her into movement. Suddenly, as though he could feel her looking at him, his eyes looked up and met hers. Sakura's heart nearly stopped. The loathing had not left his face, but she found herself drowning in a pair of cold, emotionless pools of amber. She didn't know it, but her emerald green eyes widened, and she got an almost confused look on her face. He held her gaze steadily, almost as though he were probing into her for information. Though she could see nothing beyond the cold hard amber, she had a feeling that they were hiding something very importent~like a secret, or something of the sort..
"Sakura, leave this room at once!" Came a harsh voice. Sakura jumped and tore her eyes from the boy, to meet her father's eyes. The King stood in the far doorway, his face shrouded in shadow, but she could tell that his face was a thundercloud. She also knew that he expected her to leave by way of the door behind him, but little did he know just how much anger she still held for him. She frowned slightly, and then turned on her heal. She walked over to the immense french doors and pushed them open, letting the sunlight burst into the room. She then walked out onto the balcony, and disappeared down into the gardens without a word.
No, Sakura had *never* been this angry before. And though she felt that she had reason to be, she made a mental note never to allow herself to get this upset again. It really did nothing to improve the headache that she had had before this whole ordeal. With a sigh, she ambled down one of the garden paths, her thoughts jumbled and confused. But one thing stood out. The image of that young man who had stared at her right back, as though he was not afraid of her..and now that she thought about it, he probably hadn't been at all!
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