AN: To the anonymous reviewers, could you put in your email please? Who knows, I might want to respond.
Okay, so this chapter took a little while, but I still think it's pretty timely. Yepp…
And a thank you to MoonlightGlow89.
Disclaimer: Digimon not mine.Chapter Eight: Fallen For You
Miyako was livid. Three weeks had passed since Sora's little vanishing act and now the girl was nowhere to be found. Miyako stormed down the corridors, sending glares and yelling at anyone and everyone who dared to get in her way. She forced open the door to her bedchamber and the metal knob met with the wall in a thunderous boom. Not bothering to close the door, Miyako ran to her four post bed and threw herself upon it unceremoniously, grabbing a feather pillow and screaming into the cushioned muffler.
Where the hell is that damned servant!
After Sora wasn't anywhere to be found for two days and all the other servants swore on everything they had that they were not informed of where the redhead had gone, Miyako had gone into Sora's little bedchamber and promptly ransacked the room in a fit of rage. If Sora didn't return to the mansion, Miyako wasn't going to give her a home to return to.
As much as she hated to admit, the mansion needed Sora. The young woman single handedly took on the jobs of three servants. Janine and Samuel were safe—for the time being until Sora returned. And when she did, Miyako would be sure to teach her what the word pain meant.
§
"No."
"Lady Sora, I insist."
"No Prince, I insist."
Silence.
"You're merely jesting, aren't you?"
More silence.
A small group of servants in the palace were crowded against a single mahogany door, each with an ear against the strong wood barrier.
"What do you reckon is going on in there?" One whispered.
"Haven't got an inkling." A gruff voice answered.
"Is this the maiden that the Prince is mad for? Lady Sora?"
"Doesn't sound like she's particularly fond of him."
"Don't be daft. Lady Sora is a wonderful lass, she's kind to every living thing."
Dim laughter was heard.
"I've never heard the Prince laugh like that."
"Maybe the rumors are true—he's in love," another servant offered, careful to keep her voice low. "And Lady Sora is such a vision, they go together well."
"He does spend his days there now—"
"Not just his days, every waking second I hear—"
"Every night!"
The servants stopped abruptly and turned to face the lone girl who had just spoken.
"Perhaps not? Just a rumor then," the girl quickly offered.
The first servant spoke again, "You don't suppose…"
"No! The Queen wouldn't possibly allow it."
"The Queen doesn't need to be informed."
"Lady Sora is much more dignified than that."
"Is he going to propose? It'll be a grand wedding! She'll look ravishing in a bride's dress."
Before the sentence could be finished, a scream came from inside the room and the huddle of servants rushed into the room to defend their lady's honor. They stood by the door, unsure of how to interpret the scene.
Sora was pressed against the wall with the Prince locking her in place with his arms, a dangerously gleaming scissor in his right hand. The couple stared at the small group that had gathered by the door. The servants stared back.
Yamato was the first to move. He cleared his throat loudly and moved away from the wall, cheeks tinted a light pink while his ears flamed. "I uh… we were… what is the meaning of this!"
Cassandra, the middle aged woman who had grown fond of Sora during the weeks that she tended to her, rushed to the Lady's side. "Lady Sora, you really shouldn't be favoring your bad leg like that—"
"Oh don't worry Cassandra, I've had weeks to find my strength. I assure you I'm fine," Sora replied, her eyes never leaving Yamato's. The Prince lowered his lashes, unhappy with the way Sora glared at him. "Thank you all for erm… coming to my aid… but there's really nothing to be bothered about."
"Is there anything you need?" Cassandra pressed, running a tentative hand through her slowly graying black hair.
"No—"
"Yes. Cassandra, did it arrive?" Yamato cut in, receiving one of Sora's bewildered looks at his secrecy.
The servant's dark eyes lit up. "Oh yes and it's absolutely beautiful."
"You know where to put it?"
"Of course Your Highness."
Yamato smiled. "Thank you." Suddenly remembering the rest of the mob who were all staring curiously at him, he cleared his throat again. Loud. Too loud. He started coughing as the unwanted audience filtered quietly out of the bedchamber.
Sora went to Yamato's side as soon as the door clicked shut and kicked him at the shin. He wheezed wildly in the midst of his coughing and gave her a playful glare. "Sora… what… was that… for?"
She crossed her arms over her chest. "For causing a scene."
"Me?"
"You."
"All I wanted was to give you a haircut like I promised."
"All you wanted to do was ruin it further!"
"You never know unless you try."
"Prince, as wonderfully handsome you are, there is no possible way I would allow you to fashion my hair."
He grinned widely—dangerously handsome. "Why my dear Lady, I had no idea you felt that way. Do not worry, I find you deliciously beautiful," Yamato replied, enjoying the way Sora's skin flushed.
In the total three weeks of Sora's stay in the palace, the two had grown to be inseparable. Yamato was always the first thing Sora saw in the mornings, and the last thing at night. They joked happily with one another, and behaved like the best of friends. But while Yamato fell more in love with Sora, the quick-witted woman was slow to discover affection.
"Your silver tongue won't work this time. You're not coming near me with those." She tilted her head towards the scissors in his hand. Though the sight of them unnerved her a bit, nothing seemed dangerous in Yamato's hands.
Yamato raised a brow. "My silver tongue? My Lady, you have not yet discovered what—"
"Not another word!"
"Then you will let me trim those lovely strands?"
"Never."
"You leave me no choice."
He advanced. Sora pressed backwards until she felt the wall touch. She shook her head, this was exactly where they were moments before the mass invaded the delicate privacy. "What are you going to do?" She asked hesitantly, fearing the answer.
Yamato gave a feral grin, a look that never failed to give Sora a hurtling case of the butterflies. "You say my silver tongue won't work. I intend to prove to you otherwise."
He was close. Closer than close. Yamato's hands came to rest on either side of Sora's head once again, his deep cobalt pools drawing her in. Looking away wasn't an option. Moving away was unquestionable. Sora stared back at the Prince, making no move to stop his slow descent, and relishing in the soft sandalwood scent that he always smelled of. Heavens, she was trapped.
Yamato couldn't break away from those mesmerizing dark rubies staring back at him. He had started the joke with every intention of showing her just how much his silver 'tongue' could do, but now he was captive to the double edged sword. Who could've ever guessed that being this close to her would drive him to the limits? Yamato wanted to touch her, hold her, and most of all, he wanted to kiss her senseless.
So close, he could feel her breath on his lips. So close.
Their lips barely grazed before Sora suddenly came to her senses and turned away quickly. She squeezed her eyes shut, afraid of looking into his eyes only to become lost once more. "Okay! I surrender!"
Yamato almost cursed under his breath. "Good. Now be a good Lady and take off your dress," he joked, testing just how far he could press his luck.
Sora stared at the prince, not completely hearing his words. Yama is different… she mused. It was like an alternate personality, a jokingly flirtatious youth as compared to the stoic and serious heir to the throne. One side drew her in like a magnetic pull, mostly focused on her lips while the other side made her want to slap him—and then kiss him.
She blinked. Did Yamato just tell her to take off her dress?
§
Sora didn't know how he did it, but Yamato was definitely full of surprises. She fingered her barely shoulder length hair, trimmed to perfection. Glancing at the blonde adjacent to her on the piano bench, currently concentrating on the musical ivory keys of the instrument, Sora couldn't help but smile warmly. He really was perfect.
They were in the music room of the colossal palace, a room that Sora gradually grew familiar with during the consistent visits. Yamato had insisted passionately that a recovery was not complete without some proper 'healing music' as he called it. So day after day, week after week, Sora and Yamato meandered through the labyrinth of halls to reach the serene room. During the first week, Sora had required assistance to stand, but she now stood very ably on her own two legs, though the small limp couldn't be helped.
Sora blinked, finally realizing that the music had long since faded away. She turned to her side and found Yamato staring intently at her. "What is it?"
"You had that look on your face again."
A fiery brow quirked. "What look?"
"The faraway look."
"What faraway look?"
"The look that tells me you're thinking about something else."
"I'm always thinking about something else."
Yamato frowned and gave her a look askance. "Very well Lady, come with me."
"Why?"
She received a lopsided smirk. "Why must you always interrogate me so?"
"Where are we going?"
"To the gardens."
"The gardens?"
"Yes, haven't I always said I'd take you to the gardens? I think you're up for the walk now."
Sora blanched as a sudden thought of Marianne, Samuel, and Janine flashed in her mind. She missed them dearly. "Yes Yama… let's go to the gardens."
He watched her carefully, knowing perfectly well what she was thinking of. A long sigh escaped his lips; it was only a matter of time before reality came crashing down on her. When it did, Yamato was sure that she would insist on returning to the mansion. He wouldn't allow that. He couldn't allow that.
§
Sora inhaled deeply, savoring the honey like aroma that surrounded her. The flowers were in full bloom, their lovely array of colors opening up to the couple like an earthly rainbow. She raced up and down the narrow paths, turning this way and that in order to greedily take in all of the natural beauty. "It might sound stupid if I say it now, but… it's beautiful." Sora turned to the prince.
Yamato gave her a lazy, I'm-too-sexy look before returning his eyes back to the distant horizon of the field. They walked in companionable silence, with Sora stopping once in a while to admire the different specimens. He watched curiously as she bent down, reached out her hands, and then sprung them back towards her body before they ever touched the delicate plants.
He gave her an amused look. "Why do you keep doing that?"
Sora smiled shyly and looked down at her hands before clasping them together behind her back and running further along the path. Ruby eyes lit up as a pond came into view, loosely surrounded by lustrous willow trees, their light tendrils flowing freely in the breeze. Excited as a small child in a world of candy, Sora spun around on her heels with her short auburn hair flaring out like a delicate fan and waved eagerly to Yamato.
The prince laughed and strode up the path willingly, following the large slabs of slate, which gradually formed into a neat trail. "What can I do for you, Lady Sora?" Yamato said as soon as he was within earshot and bowed gracefully.
Sora grinned impishly. She absolutely loved it when he called her Lady. Rather than have it be a formal boundary, the title sounded more like a loving pet name when Yamato spoke it. Only when Yamato spoke it. Reaching out a slender finger, Sora pointed to a small stone bench conveniently placed under a gargantuan willow. "Can we?"
Yamato gave her a devilish smirk and nodded, his cobalt eyes reflecting nothing but pure happiness. He strayed behind Sora as she gaily skipped up to the shaded bench and plunged down in an unladylike manner. She turned to the pond and took in the breathtaking view of lily pads on the glossy surface and various greens. It was an oasis, much like the spring in the forest.
On the far side of the pond, the trees thickened with crawling ivy. Amidst the shadows stood a large statue of a winged creature, one that Sora could not make out. She sighed happily and leaned back with her arms outstretched behind her. Closing her eyes, Sora basked in the light breeze until something velvety brushed against her skin.
Peeking an eye open, Sora's breath hitched in her throat and forced both eyes to widen. Yamato stood before her, offering a single full blooming white rose in his outstretched arm. Sora smirked, nothing was dangerous in Yamato's hand, let it be chef's knife, dagger, or scissors, the most harmful objects were rendered useless in Sora's eyes—but a single rose was so deadly. With a single rose, Sora decided that Yamato could sway the most stubborn women, the purest girls, the wildest females, and that's not to mention the thousands that were already worshipping the ground he walked on.
But now, it wasn't thousands of females he was soothing over with his charming boyish grin and a flower—now, it was just Sora. God, how effective a single rose was in the right hands.
She smiled widely before taking the rose from his hand, careful not to brush his fingers. If a mere flower could turn her world upside down, Sora didn't want to know what his touch could do right now.
"I figured that you wanted to pick the flowers."
She blinked. "Huh?"
Yamato chuckled and took a seat beside Sora. "You kept bending down, reaching out, and pulling back in remember?" He puffed up his chest proudly. "I figured out that you wanted to pick them."
Sora laughed softly. "You're quite slow for a famed prince."
"You can, you know—pick them, that is," Yamato said, giving her a lopsided grin in response.
She shook her head, short auburn strands flaring out as she did so. "No, I really shouldn't. You've been so kind to me, I don't want to repay you by stripping your garden."
The prince gave her a skeptical look. "Don't say that, Sora. Don't talk as if you owe me. If anything, I am the one that is in debt to you."
She pouted prettily. "I don't understand."
"You've saved me!"
"Saved you from what?"
"From the endless cycle of my pitiful meaningless days."
"Your days aren't pitiful. They're certainly not meaningless."
"Ah, but they were. I wasn't a very responsible prince, I ran from my duties and I always pitied myself, but you've showed me what a gift everything is. Some people are born with so little when I was born with the kingdom in my hands. You've had everything taken away from you and yet you refuse to give in, whereas I, I've had everything handed to me and it still wasn't enough. I'll do better now, Sora. I promise. I'll be a prince the kingdom can be proud of."
Yamato's words moved Sora and she placed her hand delicately on his arm, softly caressing his worries away. "You are a prince the kingdom is proud of. Why do you make yourself sound so selfish when you are clearly the opposite?"
"Because I am, Sora."
"I don't believe that. Not even for a second."
Yamato smirked at the young woman beside him. That's what he loved about Sora, she always saw the best in people—he frowned, what if someone mistook her good nature for gullibility? No, Sora was definitely anything but gullible, he was sure she'd be positively frightening when angered. Feeling his good mood return, Yamato shrugged happily, stuffed his hands into his pockets in an almost inappropriately leisurely manner, and leaned his head against Sora's.
She shifted and wiggled uncomfortably. "You're heavy, Yama."
"Whatever you say, Lady. You know, mother used to tell me that there was a secret passageway in the gardens that lead to the outside of the palace," he said absentmindedly as his long fingers brushed against something cool in his trouser pocket.
"Really? Do you know where it is?" Sora asked with a peaked interest.
"No, but I used to spend hours looking for it— hold still will you?" Yamato persisted as the young woman began to move again.
"What do you have as hair, hay? It's hurting me," Sora teased.
"You're fortunate to even be this close to it," Yamato mumbled. He pulled out the long linked object and examined it. "You know, after saying such hurtful things, I'm really not sure if I should give this to you…" he said softly. His fingers tangled and weaved with the light silver chain.
"Give what to me?" Sora tried to twist around in order to see what the prince was hiding from her, but his head really did prove to be heavy. So she shoved him.
Yamato fell onto the slate tiles and glared up at her. "Just for that, I'm not going to give it to you."
Sora glowered at Yamato for a moment before swiveling around curtly on the stone bench and crossing her arms. "I'm not so sure I want it anyways."
Yamato stood and laughed genuinely while he dusted himself off. Sitting on the bench again, he turned to face Sora's back and drew out the silver necklace. He looped it around her neck gracefully and closed the clasp. "I was only joking, Sora. I want you to have this," he whispered huskily against her ear.
Her fingers hooked around the chain on her chest and brought it out for her inspection. When Sora saw the intricately swirled heart shaped pendant, she recognized it immediately. "What—no, where—" a sigh followed as she finally collected her senses and settled on one word, "how?"
Yamato's dark blonde brows furrowed as he struggled to read Sora's reaction. "I bought it at the vender's that day when I found you in the markets. I thought you'd like it."
The dazzling smile, he anticipated. The tears shocked him, but he accepted gratefully. The lunge caught him completely off guard. Sora threw her arms around Yamato and clung to him, unintentionally suffocating him in her death grip. "Thank you, Yama! Thank you!"
Recovering quickly from the shock, Yamato wrapped his arms around Sora and squeezed in a comforting manner, meanwhile ignoring his need for air until it was absolutely necessary. He finally pulled away from the overjoyed woman, gasping for air and inhaling it greedily. When he recovered, Yamato looked at Sora and raised a brow, asking a silent question.
She beamed brightly at him. "When I saw it at the vender's I really didn't know what to do. I wanted to buy it, but it would only cause trouble. I didn't want to see another wearing it, but it didn't seem like there was a choice."
Yamato's expression was that of a helplessly baffled male. Irresistible and asking to be hugged.
Sora fingered the chain affectionately. "This necklace belonged to my mother. She gave it to me on her deathbed and told me to treasure it. She said it would bring me luck." Sora lowered her lashes and began to draw lazy circles with her feet. "I did treasure it, really… but soon after I began doing chores for the Inoues, Miyako found it in my room during one of her periodical raids. She accused me to stealing it and took it from me. We got in a huge argument and it ended with me getting whipped for the first time." Yamato snorted unceremoniously, prompting Sora to laugh. "It was worth it. Apparently I had frightened Miyako enough that she was much too scared to even think about wearing it. She sold it eventually, but I rather it be sold than have it be worn around her neck." Sora glanced up to see Yamato grinning widely. "What is it?"
He chuckled. "I knew you'd be a force to be reckoned with if you got mad."
Instead of slapping him or disproving the statement, Sora gave him a smile that reached her eyes. "I thought I'd never see it again. I can't thank you enough."
"No thanks needed, all in a day's work, Lady Sora." He paused and scratched his head adorably before continuing, "The vender called it the Crest of Love."
"The Crest of Love? That's original. I don't know what it is, I just know that it was my mother's and that's all I need to know." She smiled fondly, pressing hand against her chest where the pendant rested. "I won't ever lose it again. I'll never take it off!"
Rich baritone laughter filled the atmosphere at Sora's proclamation. It came to a sudden halt as Cassandra came to, running towards the couple resting on the stone bench. The middle-aged woman stopped before them, greeted them formally, and kept her head bowed. "Highness, the King demands to see you."
Yamato didn't move—didn't so much as blink as he stoically gazed out at the drifting lilies of the pond. The flowers were in full bloom, baring their rosy colored glory for all atop a glossy canvas of water. Cassandra kept her head lowered as her fingers began to twitch with anticipation of the prince's lack of response.
Sora leaned forward in order to see Yamato's face and scowled before jabbing him sharply in the ribs. "You may be a prince, but it doesn't give you the excuse to be rude," she scolded him, wagging a finger before his face while he playfully glared at her.
Yamato caught Sora's hand and touched his lips to the back of her hand. He laughed. "Yes milady, I'll keep that in mind." He stood and turned to Cassandra. "My apologies. I'll go now. Stay here with the Lady and makes sure she picks some flowers. On second thought—" he swiveled to Sora who was innocently looking up at him with large ruby eyes, "I want… hydrangeas… in my room. A lot of hydrangeas." He walked away before Sora could say a word, only turning back to give her a sly wink.
She stared at his retreating back with her mouth hanging open. What kind of… what? Sora shook her head and giggled, Yamato certainly had his charms. "Well, you heard the prince, I must now be forced into endless weeks of labor by the hydrangeas. He won't stop until his room is filled with them or the field becomes barren, whichever comes first."
Cassandra allowed herself to chuckle at the lady's playful manner. "The hydrangea fields will certainly become barren before even half of Prince Yamato's room is filled."
§
Sora sat on the soil in the hydrangea fields despite Cassandra's protest, and happily collected the multiple variations of hydrangeas the family owned. Her gown, which had been a soft rosy color before it touched the dirt, had been given to Sora. Yamato explained that while she slept through the four days, he had the dress prepared—that explained the looseness of the fit. It was nothing lavish, which is why Sora loved it so much. Plain and simple, with lightly decorated hems and wide sleeves.
"The prince fancies you, Lady Sora."
The young woman paused and gave Cassandra a bemused look. "What makes you say that, Cassandra?"
The older woman smiled knowingly and laid down the colossal armful of hydrangeas they had already gathered. "The prince rarely apologizes, much less to a mere servant. But you simply mutter a few words and he obliges."
Sora fluffed her hair and laughed, returning her attention to the large blossoming pink hydrangea she was about to clip. "It only proves he's softer person than many people have realized. I haven't done a thing."
"Lady Sora, that is definitely not the only matter and there are too many to name. I won't try to convince you but the entire palace has no doubt of his devotion to you. We can all feel it the moment we wake. Believe me Lady, it is there—"
"Cassssssssaaaaaaaandraaaaa!" A voice called out from the garden entrance. "You're needed!"
Cassandra waved back and was about to walk off before she turned to Sora and bowed. "I only ask that you do not reject him. You're a wonderful person, Lady Sora, and you'd make a fine queen."
Sora's mouth hung open for the second time that day as she watched yet another retreating back. "But I already love him," she whispered to no one. Glee filled her entire being once the astonishment faded and after clipping a few more ridiculously large hydrangeas, she collected the entire lot (which took much, much effort) and made her way carefully back into the palace.
Catherine Grant seemed to float down the palace halls as she headed in the direction of the room where the King would be waiting. He had explained that they would resolve the matter reasonably and Catherine knew that always meant her way. Of course… there was never the matter of an outside complication added to the problem. Lost in her thoughts, Catherine rounded a corner and fell onto the floor, landing embarrassingly on her bottom with a loud, "Oof," when she collided into a walking bush of rainbow petals.
Recovering quickly, the brunette stood and dusted herself off, shaking out any loose petals in her hair and glaring down at the clumsy girl who had obviously walked right into her. Sora apologized and offered Catherine an innocent smile from where she sat on the floor with hydrangeas scattered all around. Aquamarine eyes narrowed, "Oh, it's you."
"Lady Grant." Sora acknowledged the other woman and began collecting the hydrangeas.
Catherine watched the auburn haired woman collect the flowers on the floor. "So tell me, Lady Sora, what brings you to the palace?"
"Me? I… fainted in the forest and was fortunate enough to meet the prince."
"Oh, that sounds dreadful! I of course, was invited to the palace by the King. I am to marry Yamato and there is nothing that will change it. We are mad for each other."
Sora stayed silent, unsure of what to say and not believing Catherine's words entirely. But the emphasis she put on 'invited'…
"Where is your family, Lady Sora?"
"I… they are deceased."
"Oh, but where do you live?"
"…" Sora closed her eyes, "Not far."
"Not far? I'm puzzled. If you are here under the circumstances of what you claim, then you have surely healed and I don't see the point of your stay. Is there something at home you would not like to go back to? Oh my, do you have a home, dear?"
"…Yes, I have a home."
"Are you really Lord Takenouchi's daughter?"
"…yes."
"That's odd, I've never heard of his daughter. I haven't heard of any Takenouchi around these areas for ages."
Catherine sneered at Sora's silence and took a step forward, crushing a blooming hydrangea under her heel. "You know what I think?" Another step. Another flower. "I think you're a servant girl with and active imagination, an impulse to lie, and too much time on her hands. You may have everyone fooled, but not me." A brief flash of silver caught Catherine's eye and she reached down to touch the pendant on Sora's chest. "And look, now you've stolen from them too. Is that what you are? A thief?"
A scream echoed through the hall as Sora grabbed Catherine's wrist and stood. Her hand tightened around the brunette's limb, bending it back until Catherine was on her knees and their places exchanged. "I am not a thief. I did not steal from the Ishidas."
Tears meandered down Catherine's flawless cheeks as she glared up defiantly. "Then what are you? You can't possibly afford that necklace! You don't belong here! You've outstayed your welcome!"
Sora's hand loosened slowly as Catherine's words sank in. As much as she hated to admit, Catherine was right. No matter what or who she was, Sora had outstayed her welcome. The only reason why she was brought to the palace in the first place was that she was injured, but now that she had healed, she was only delaying the inevitable.
Catherine was cradling her wrist, sobbing like the spoiled girl she was. "You're not wanted here, you're not one of us." She chanted over and over. "Yamato is going to marry me so I don't see the point of your staying here! I suggest you leave immediately."
Sora stared at Catherine for a brief moment before turning and walking away slowly in a daze. She had to leave. The palace wasn't where she belonged. Though Lord Takenouchi was her father, he had passed away a long time ago and Sora was reduced to nothing but a servant. Who was she fooling? Why had she stayed so long? Even after her wounds had healed, she kept her mind away from the mansion, Miyako, Lady Inoue… Janine, Marianne, Sam… as her friends suffered, was it right of her to be selfish? No. She couldn't. Sora knew it was time for her to go… but why couldn't she?
Because of Yamato. Because she had fallen head over heels in love with the prince. The prince who was to marry Catherine Grant.
There was no reason to stay anymore.
AN: Don't worry! It'll work out, I promise! Besides that, do your really think I'd have Sora go back to the mansion? I really intended to write more but this chapter was getting much too lengthy for my taste. So you'll have to wait for the next chapter! Pretty please?
Tell me what you think, review!