Inspiration . . . it's a funny thing, ne? When it comes, it comes like a broken faucet - once it's turned on, it just keeps flowing, and there's no turning it off.

Chapter 6

Demando regarded the imperial man uncertainly out of the corner of his eye. He wasn't sure how he felt towards him, but he was edging towards dislike. Princess Serenity had introduced the two princes to each other earlier, her face all aglow with maidenly modesty. Endymion had been courteous, Demando indifferent. Now they were at dinner, and although the gracious princess had not forgotten Demando and sat him next to her at the royal table, the White Prince of Nemesis couldn't help but to feel left out. Everything the princess did, from the movements of her hands, to the soft tone of her laughter, seemed to be for the Earth Prince. Every now and then, she would turn and mention something to him kindly but then returned her much sought-after attention to her betrothed.

Luna and Artemis were also there. The feline woman whom had failed to notice the prince earlier had also been introduced to him, along with her companion, the similarly white haired young man by the name of Artemis. Both were faithful servants and close friends of the Queen's. They spoke politely with Prince Demando, inquiring about events on the Moon Kingdom while they had been gone.

"Who's looking after your kingdom now, Prince Endymion," the Princess asked pleasantly, her voice filled with chimes.

"My generals are supervising. I'm afraid I had to call three of them back from here, but they were all agreed that it was of the utmost importance I should keep my promise to you." He smiled charmingly and sipped his wine, a good-looking man.

Serenity beamed.

Demando frowned undetectably in confusion. Her smiles and sing-song voice had always lightened his heart before. Why now were they weighing it down? He did not guess that this unique happiness of hers was due to the Prince Endymion's presence, and that this very reason was what made it hurtful.

* * *

Demando, alone in his room, cranked up the music box and let it play.

He had received a letter from Saffir, asking if he had made any progress. His time in the Moon Kingdom was nearing an end, and his people wished to know what help he would bring back with him.

"Nothing," he spoke to the emptiness and let the music die away.

* * *

The Queen's birthday was honored annually with a ballroom celebration. It was not of her instigating. Each year, the palace buzzed and began preparations of its own will to show gratitude to their beloved sovereign. It was nearing the end of summer.

Princess Serenity still attended to her friend, the prince from Nemesis, but now her time was chiefly spent in the company of Prince Endymion. If he had liked, Demando could have demanded attention from her, in his own subtle way, and he new the princess would not have declined. She was a loyal, sacrificing friend. But Demando knew she wished to be with Endymion, and he didn't try to take her from him. What would have pleased Serenity would have been if they could have all interacted together, but of course, the fair cheerless prince would have none of that.

One day Endymion asked her, after Demando had excused himself from Serenity's presence upon the Terran's arrival, "Why do you try so? He doesn't seem to like us."

Unexpectedly, her head turned to him sharply; eyebrows lifted sadly, yet protectively, a mother in defense of her depraved child, "He does like me, I know. I don't understand why he refuses to relate to other people, but he's had it hard – don't blame him."

"And why not? Those Nemesians are always looking to start trouble, especially with Earth."

"And so would you, if you were in their position," she said sternly, disturbing both herself and the prince at how bluntly she spoke to him.

The Prince raised a single curious eyebrow.

It was true Endymion was here now, but she had made a place in her life especially for Demando, and his growing absence was beginning to bother her, despite herself.

On the Queen's birthday, Serenity came to Demando in his chamber.

Entering after he held the door open for her, she spoke to him directly, in the way she had become accustomed. "Won't you come to the celebration tonight, Demando-sama? I rarely see you at all anymore, and you'll be leaving soon." She was genuinely going to miss him.

Demando started. For the first time it occurred to him that leaving the Moon Kingdom meant leaving its princess as well. He turned the knowledge over in his thoughts, wondering how he felt about it, while outwardly he sat down and resumed his solitary game of cards, saying nothing.

Serenity walked over to a window and flung it open. "Why do you shut yourself up in here? At least let in some fresh air," she scolded gently. When she turned back to him, he was slouching, reclining in his chair with his left foot resting on the low table before him, the same arm on his leg, holding a hand of cards. He was gazing at her intensely.

His stare made her uncomfortable. "Demando-samma?" She shifted feet and looked at him plaintively.

That instant, he was jolted by the acknowledgement that he was going to miss her dreadfully.

"Demando!"

"All right." He flicked a card down onto the table and replaced it with another one.

"All right what?"

"I'll see you tonight," matter-of-factly.

She sighed victoriously. "I'm glad. If you don't find me right away, come after me. I'll be with my friends or Prince Endymion."

* * *

The dancers were blurs of satin colors on the marble ballroom floor, a garden of flowers blown violently in the wind. All the princesses were there: Mars, Jupiter, Mercury, and Venus. (Neptune had left a while back.) Luna and Artemis were there as well, along with all the other servants, nobles, and courtiers. The Moon Queen sat on her slightly elevated throne, when she wasn't standing and greeting the guests. A constant waltz was playing. Dinner had been earlier that evening, but Demando, not feeling hungry, had forgone the meal.

He took in the celebration stoically. He was not one of those characters that people could ever feel sorry for when he was alone, save maybe Princess Serenity; for he stood poised and erect, proud and cold, as if his solitude was exactly what he preferred. For the most part, it was. He had come to accept either the company of Serenity or no one.

Through the swirls of dancers he caught sight of her: twirling and twirling, the prince from Earth her partner. Although sometimes she could actually be a bit clumsy, the Princess Serenity excelled in dancing. Her prince, as well, was practiced in the art. They made an exquisite pair.

The music faded to a stop. The dancers slowed. Prince Endymion took his princess by the hand and led her out through one pair of many double doors that opened onto the white, starlit balcony. The summer night air was uncharacteristically chilly.

Demando hesitated, turned to go, then stopped. She had instructed him to go find her, that she would be with Prince Endymion. He had said he would, and Prince Demando was a man of his word. So reluctantly, he doubled back and followed in the direction the couple had gone.

He crossed the threshold of the glass-paned double doors and stopped to look around. He saw the Princess and the Prince standing off to his left, leaning on the railing of the second-story balcony. Again, he hesitated. It would be awkward for him to interrupt. But the fidelity to his promise once again took precedence. He moved towards them.

Princess Serenity was gazing at Prince Endymion, her back turned to Demando. They were painfully close. Demando's pace slowed. He saw Endymion lean down toward her, enveloping her fragile form in the warmth of his cloak. The woman also seemed to be reaching up to him. Demando stopped completely, unnoticed by the royal pair. Before his eyes, Serenity and Endymion shared their first kiss: soft, innocent, and as pure as a spring rainfall.

Demando turned abruptly around and left.

* * *

Many hours later, on that the same balcony in that area that sprawled before the private apartments of the palace, the forlorn, lavender-eyed man leaned with his elbows resting on the railing, a half-emptied wine glass in his right hand. He knew of alcohol, it's seductively comatose symptoms, and how to find false comfort from it. On Nemesis, he was constantly sipping at the liquid whenever he could get his hands on it. Now he intended to drown out his own existence.

The jealousy was new to the prince. The pain was all too familiar.

It was the early hours of the morning, but the muffled sound of the birthday celebration drifted continuously from the opposite end of the great structure.

"Prince Demando!" She appeared like a ghost. Princess Serenity was just heading to her bedchamber after a long night of dancing. "What are you doing here? I thought you would come to the party."

He looked at her, his eyes dull. He found it hard to focus on her form, but he didn't need to see to know who was speaking. Her presence was as evident as air – felt, known, if not ever truly seen. Then, he turned his head away, engulfing himself in the depth of the tear-spattered night sky.

She studied him closer. Then comprehension lit up her features. "You're drunk . . ." she said softly in revelation, to him as much as to herself.

"So I am," was his succinct reply. He started to lift the glass to his mouth for another sip, but Serenity was faster. She dashed the cup out of his hand before he could touch it to his lips one more time, and placed it on the railing, far out of Demando's reach.

"Come with me," she sighed disapprovingly.

She carefully placed his arm around her shoulders for him to lean on her; he allowed her to lead him into the warmth of the palace, and guide him in the direction of his chamber in the guest wing. The girl, like her name, offered him serenity.

The young woman marveled at how the solemn prince miraculously retained his sense of poise and uncanny grace even in such an indisposed state. Why men became intoxicated, however, was beyond her imagining. Rational persons of the female species often avoided such idiocies.

Upon reaching the hallway, Serenity moved away from him and said, "Now go to your room and have a good night's sleep. I'll forgive you for not coming tonight if you promise not to drink any more for quite a while."

He took in a deep breath, lethargically, processing her speech with his slow mind and nodding. Then he looked at her, brows furrowed in uncertainty. "Could you . . . kindly point me in the direction of my room?"

Serenity stroked his arm sympathetically, then held it in her own, gently leading him. She took him into the room, steadying him with her body, the door closing shut behind them.

Earthlight flowed in through the chamber, casting malformed shadows across the tiled floors and hand-crafted furniture of the unlit room. The scent of late summer flowers drifted in on the cool breeze. The windows and balcony doors were still ajar from when she'd opened them earlier that day. Guiding her charge to the bed, she turned him round slowly, placed her hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him down so that he was sitting.

Demando looked up at her, aglow in the dim light. He could feel the warmth again, being generated from their proximity, and he found solace in it and in her living aura – it worked far better than the alcohol. He knew that she had to go and that at any moment she would glide away and leave him there. But she was so close, so close. He wanted to keep her.

So he did what any other normally functioning male would have done in his position. He reached up and around her in a timid embrace and swiftly, yet tenderly pulled her down to meet his lips. He kissed her, but she did not kiss him back.

She pulled away softly, almost immediately from his bitter taste, hands still resting on his shoulders. "Demando," she said carefully, perplexed. She pronounced each word precisely, reminding herself as well as him, "You're not feeling yourself." She was right and wrong.

Backing away slowly, as his arms dropped away from her, she whispered "Go to sleep now. You'll feel better in the morning."

As if on cue, Demando lay down on the bed in one continuous movement. He watched her as she left the room, closing the door softly behind her. He was alone.

* * *

Princess Serenity expected that he would wake up the next morning and not remember anything, like most men. But Demando was not most men, and in his state of intoxication he remembered everything, down to the minutest of details.

But it was not his way to explain himself or bring up his own actions, so he never mentioned the incident, (why would he?) and Princess Serenity, to his unacknowledged relief, treated him much the same.

It was a slip of self-control, that was all. It didn't matter, he scolded himself. He was always, always his worst critic. And how could it matter, anyway? What did a kiss have to do with anything? He was a man, and he had instincts, and that was all. But it wasn't all. He couldn't shake off the awareness that the kiss was somehow relevant to the way things had become between them. It had to do with his needing her, but he didn't know why. How had he ever allowed himself to become so dependent on such a giddy, damned, frivolous waif? Because, because she was his deliverance, his savior from himself. She had become a part of him now, an extension of his own soul; like Saffir, only different. He knew also that she felt a connection with him that was at least somewhat similar . . . And yet, oh Kami – she had not kissed him back!

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Aaaccckkk! The angst! T-T Somebody lend me a straightjacket before I overdo it. Geez, this fic is going to take longer than I thought . . .

Aren't you proud of me for including Sailor Neptune in the last chapter? I'm not really fond of the outer senshi, and Neptune is my least favorite, so I challenged myself to write her in. *holds her breath and prepares for Neptune-fan-bashing* Never fear. The outer senshi will be appearing in more significant roles towards the end of the story, so stay tuned.

~me

(well, saying Suki is a little repetitive, don't you think? I am obviously the author of the fic . . .)