Amaryllis
Chapter 2
The marketplace wasn't a crowded jumble of noises and smells. Uniform stalls lined the big streets. Merchants waited with their hands folded, smiles in place. They only spoke when spoken to.
The sterility felt very wrong.
A market, as she remembered it, was always overflowing. With smells: Meat roasting on spits, bread baking stuck to the sides of hot ovens. Spices from faraway lands, mingling with spritzes of perfumes from oddly-shaped bottles.
The only thing stronger than the smells were the sounds. Merchants yelled over the bleating of goats, squabbling with their neighbors if they offered a better price. Their children shrieked with laughter and chased them around the legs of adults. Running under the tables and sending displays askew when their feet caught on the cloth.
"I'm afraid this will be much smaller than what you're used to," Sasuke had warned her on the ride down to the city. They had carved the infrastructure into the sides of the mountain. The roads spiraled up the sides of the slope, with the city trickling down the incline. These roads were paved, and there was rumored to be running water in even the smallest houses.
It struck her as odd that the castle was so far-removed from everything else. She was so used to the marketplace waiting just outside the walls of the palace. Voices calling "Lady Sakura" so clearly when she was young. And then "Your Grace" when her mother and father were no longer there.
She remembered the hushed whimpers that rose in the streets when news had arrived of her parents' death. White flowers spilling into the waters around the palace. The endless chorus of thousands of bells swaying in the wind. The entire city was shrouded in her mother's favorite color: a deep purple fit for a queen. She didn't remember much of those days apart from being held in her aunt's arms and the way her cousin's clammy hand tightened around hers as the empty pyres burned bright.
"What sort of place is Plumeria?" asked Sasuke, pulling her from her memories.
Sakura was already smiling as she thought. The busy city of Plumeria was where she had grown up. It sat at the bottom of the Southern Tea Isle. Its port rarely sat empty as vessels filled with tea and silk set out to the far corners of the world. In their place, merchants came in with grain and vegetables from the mainland. Others came from greater distances, ships groaning with spices and textiles in a dizzying array of colors.
The Haruno family had found a home on the island after a long journey across the ocean from the east. She had grown up hearing the story a thousand times.
The island nation had struggled to fend off the attacks of the vicious mainlanders. Its people had called the land 'Aiga' then. And their peaceful fishermen were no match for the pale invaders with their heavy metal suits and their great beasts that trampled them with hard feet. When the Haruno's arrived, they came with spices in a dizzying array of colors and smells. They brought tea leaves, which grew beautifully in the tropical sun. They also had something that they called 'gunpowder' that made it very easy to make the men in metal suits stay far away.
The Haruno's and the islanders formed a partnership. The islanders' way of life would be preserved, and their foreigners found a home after many months of travel.
The story went on, and the details of how that small noble family had become a duchy of the Forest Kingdom was long and complicated. In the end, all that mattered was that the Southern Tea Isle supplied the entire kingdom with tea leaves and high quality silk. As the secrets to silk production were jealously guarded, no one had ever come close to producing fabric of such quality. The Haruno family's coffers grew as noble ladies clamored for gowns made of the precious material.
Around this time of year, the hills would be filled with the bright green leaves. Workers would be bent over in the rows, plucking the harvest and placing it in their baskets. In the afternoons, the air would fill with the aroma of roasting tea. All the while, the rush of the ocean waves would beat against the coasts of the island. The tides pulling boats home as fishermen rinsed and folded their nets in preparation for the following day's work.
There were no words to describe her home. She had tried and failed countless times. To call it "beautiful" was an insult. It was busy but never rushed. Peaceful but never silent.
"It's perfect," Sakura finally managed to say.
The capital city of Plumeria was built on the water. Each building was held up on wooden supports. And the ones that could afford stone used that instead. The white-washed homes sported red or blue roof tiles. And a series of wooden walkways connected one building to another. During high tide, boats pulled up right beside homes, bobbing on the salty waves as people yelled out their greetings. Just recalling the details made her feel like she could taste salt in the air again.
When she glimpsed Sasuke's face, she suddenly pitied him for not carrying the memories of such a place inside of him. And so she painted a picture for him.
The clear waters of the sea reflected everything from the palace to the sky and the clouds above. On calm days, it looked like the palace sat on a great mirror. None of the great works of art could do the place justice, she claimed. And Sasuke simply nodded.
Sakura had grown up wandering the stone halls that were cool even on the hottest days. Admiring the ethereal glow of the white stone in the torchlight. The islanders didn't really believe in doors because they blocked the path of good spirits who came bearing fortune. Instead, there were large archways from one room to the next. And when more privacy was needed, white curtains were hung up. Whenever a strong sea breeze swept through, the curtains billowed and waved like the skirts of so many dancers. Giggling, Sakura had spun through the fluffy fabric, marveling at the sun-warmed dance partners they could become.
The smell of the salty sea clung to her hair and clothes no matter where she went. Barefoot and breathless, she tiptoed the halls and squealed with laughter when her father caught her sneaking around after bedtime and threw her over his shoulder. She remembered drinking sweet coconut water and biting into mangos with the juice dribbling down her chin. All the memories piled together, filling her with warmth even on the coldest nights on the mainland.
Sasuke blew out a long breath. "That… sounds amazing. I've always wanted to see for myself. My tutors always called in one of the great wonders of the south," he commented. And then he cast the approaching market with an odd look. "I'm almost ashamed to be bringing you here now. This must seem like a joke to you."
Sakura laughed. She barely watched as Kaze ambled down the steep path. "It's true. Everything seems small in comparison to a port city," she answered. "I miss it so." Her laughter trailed off, turning into a sigh. She turned in the direction of that distant home, imaging those rushing waves and the smiles of the people who welcomed her back.
Sakura's first memories were of an island filled with people who she loved and who loved her in return. Mother was away often, because being Queen was a difficult job. But Mother sent her love in messages often. And when Mother was home, Sakura never left her side. Clinging to the end of her dresses, snuggling up in her lap in the throne room.
One foggy morning, during one of the long periods of Mother's absences, Sakura had woken to the urgent voices of men echoing through the halls. The room was dark. She opened her mouth to call for her father. But then she heard the voices again.
Blanket draped around her, she snuck out to see what was going on. The end of the blanket dragged along the tile as she padded out of her room, out into the misty morning. She navigated the familiar walkways with ease, straining to listen over the roar of the ocean waves. Eventually, she found her father sitting in the throne room, white hair messy from sleep. But his dark eyes were intense as he listened to the men. His right hand gripped the armrest, knuckles popping out. Left hand under his chin to keep his weary head up.
Sakura stood in the doorway, watching. Waiting until her father noticed her. It never took him long. He held his hand out to her.
"Your Majesty, the reports from the border have been growing more urgent. We desperately need you back in the capit-" one of the men insisted. The talk cut off when Sakura ran through their legs, bare feet sleeping against the stone floor. She sat in the crook of her father's powerful arm so he could lift her into his lap. It was the world's safest and most comfortable place.
"Continue," Father prompted.
Sakura knew it wasn't polite to interrupt adults. She patted the back of her father's hand once. And then she watched his stubbly chin, waiting. When he finally bent his head down to listen, she whispered in his ear.
"Is something bad happening?"
"In a way, sweetheart," he answered with a brief smile.
She gripped the front of his shirt. "Is Mother alright?" She couldn't help but worry. It had been months since she had last seen her mother. And there were bad people in the world who wanted to hurt her. That was why there were the good guards at the palace to keep them safe. But what if the good guards hadn't been strong enough?
Sakura's gaze rose when she felt her father's hand, clumsy and big, stroke her head.
"Your Mother is fine. You can stay and listen if you're very quiet," he suggested.
And as Sakura stared up into his tanned face, she loved the way the corners of his eyes crinkled. The way his silvery stubble shown in the lantern-light.
"I'll be very, very quiet," she promised.
"Good girl," he said.
Sakura remembered dozing off. Because when she opened her eyes again, they were standing at the dock. The sun was already rising over the waters. She blinked, slowly focusing on the men running back and forth lugging trunks and barrels onto the ship.
"Daddy?" Sakura mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
She felt her father shift her in his arms, the blanket still draped around her. The thick green and teal tassels brushed against her hands. And though he usually reminded her to call her "Father", he didn't correct her this time.
"Yes, Sakura," he replied.
"Are you leaving home? To go to the border?" Sakura queried. His eyebrows rose.
"You were listening," he mused. And then he let out a heavy sigh. "Yes, dear. We're going to the capital. It'll be our home for now," he answered. Sakura's forehead puckered.
"But this is the capital. Plumeria's the capital, isn't it?" Sakura said, confused. She was even more confused by the way he chuckled.
"It is. But I meant the capital of the entire kingdom. We get to live in an even bigger castle in Leaves. And that's where your mother is. Isn't it exciting?"
"I do miss Mother," Sakura admitted. But then her shoulders drooped.
"What is it, Sakura?" her father asked.
And then Sakura peeked up at him again. Because her father was always so kind and never raised his voice. She hoped it wouldn't hurt his feelings to say what she was thinking. The way he smiled at her made her think it would be alright.
"Whiteriver Keep is ugly," she admitted. Because the place where she lived was so pretty, day or night. The castle in the capital was not a beautiful place. It was a castle with fortifications and siege weapons. Fortresses were big, hulking things meant to fight wars. Even from a young age, Sakura understood that there was no beauty in something like that.
"And that means I have to leave Auntie behind. And then Sasori can't come either. So who will I play with? And who will help Shizu fold bedsheets? Or pick the flowers to put in Mother's room?" Sakura fretted.
Her father let out another sigh. He patted her back. "Sasori will come to visit often. And I'm sure you'll make many friends. There are so many people who can't wait to meet you," he comforted her. Sakura's frown eased a little as she took in his words. She met his gaze to slowly nod. He smiled.
"Come. We'll have breakfast while they finish preparations," he boomed in a cheerful voice as he turned to take them back to the palace.
"Watch out, General," she heard Sasuke say. His voice pulled her back to the present.
Sakura looked up. She found Sasuke's hand hovering near her elbow, like he couldn't decide whether to touch her or not. And then she spotted a man rumbling down the road in a cart piled high with cured meats. They moved to walk closer to the buildings. The man tipped his hat to them in thanks as they passed.
"Wasn't there a special word for the market where you come from?" Sasuke questioned. They paused to peek in at a stall selling fresh berries harvested in the mountains just that morning. Sasuke handed the woman a coin. She passed them a tiny basket filled with fruit in return.
"Bazaar," Sakura replied. The sound rolling off the tip of her tongue. Sasuke muttered the word beside her, stumbling over the foreign sounds as she took a bite of a strawberry. It was sweet, the juice rolling down her chin. Sasuke laughed at her before he offered her his handkerchief.
They perused through the other wares. There were trinkets from foreign lands and books labeled in unfamiliar languages. There were bracelets made from smooth jade beads, which she hadn't expected to see so far west. There were also bolts of fabric that claimed to be made of silk. But her nose wrinkled as she passed her hand over the rough weave.
What surprised her most was how no one called Sasuke by his name. Some of their gazes lit up with recognition, but they simply addressed him as "My Lord". She gathered rather quickly that Sasuke kept his identity as a prince hidden, likely for security purposes. Although she was unsure of how subtle he was with two guards trailing after them.
At noon, Sasuke took her to a tavern for a meal.
"My mother would faint if she could see us here now," Sasuke whispered as they settled at the wooden table. It was a clean little establishment, with a bard crooning in the corner, and just one drunkard slumbering at a table in the back. The bartender eyed them with suspicion as they walked inside, but that was the standard behavior for any bartender.
And then he smiled a secret, conspirator's smile. "I hope it's to your liking."
"You will never see me turn down a tavern stew," Sakura assured him. And Sasuke's expression brightened a little.
Sakura raised an eyebrow as the two guards sat at a separate table.
"Too good to sit with us?" She commented.
The larger of the guards jumped out of his seat. "No, ma'am. It's just not proper, ma'am. How can commoners like us sit with people such as yourself?"
The smaller guard nodded along with his partner.
Sakura took those words in. Thinking. She crossed her arms across her chest. And then the corners of her mouth turned up. "Proper. Yes, while I appreciate your concern, you've missed one detail."
Both of them looked at her now.
"Propriety dictates that an unmarried woman should not be dining alone with an unmarried man. Rumors spread about them. I would feel much more at ease if you were to sit with us. For my reputation's sake," Sakura said.
The two guards glanced at each other. Silently mouthing words and gesturing with jerks of their head. This went on for a long time before they got to their feet and moved to join her. Sasuke watched the exchange, but his face betrayed nothing.
"Forgive me, sirs. I'm having trouble remembering your names," Sakura greeted them as they sat.
The larger guard bolted to his feet again. "I beg forgiveness, ma'am. We never gave them. I'm Juugo."
The smaller guard bowed his head, both hands planted on the tabletop. "I'm Suigetsu."
Sakura dipped her head toward them in return.
"Thank you for accompanying us today, Suigetsu, Juugo. It puts me at ease to know that you two are here," she stated.
Juggo's face began to turn a shade of red similar to his hair. Suigetsu coughed, his gaze flickering from Sakura to his companion.
"Well, if rumors are right, I don't think you have much need for us. Word gets around, you know, General," Suigetsu said with a nervous laugh. Sasuke's eyebrows rose. And then they pinched together.
"You are speaking to an esteemed guest of our kingdom. I will not have you sour her stay with frivolous rumors," Sasuke's voice whipped out, suddenly sharp.
She waved a hand, drawing Sasuke's attention once more. "Oh no, please. I rarely get the chance to hear of my reputation. Usually it's whispered when I'm not around. I'm terribly curious," Sakura insisted.
"Um…" Suigetsu hesitated, wary eyes darting to Sasuke once more. But when Sakura nodded, Suigetsu grimaced and spoke again.
"Well… they say not to make an enemy of you, General." And then he spotted Sasuke's expression and added, "I think it's a compliment, really!"
"They say you slew a hundred men on your own at the Battle of the Deadlands," Juugo spoke up. Quietly.
Sakura wasn't smiling anymore. "What else?" she prompted.
Juugo met her eyes as he uttered: "They call you The Heartless…. But you don't seem like you are."
And just as suddenly, Sakura's smile returned.
"Rumors are not called facts for a reason. It wasn't a hundred men, and I wasn't on my own," she corrected him. As if he hadn't said the second part at all.
She regaled them with the true story of that particular battle. And when Sasuke asked for more, she told them of other adventures and campaigns. Of swords clashing and sparks flying. Of the roars of the soldiers as she shouted for their support. She noticed that the bard had gone quiet, and the drunk in the corner was awake, watching them with bleary eyes.
It was easier to remember it like that anyway. All glory and triumph. Not the way those memories really lived inside her head. Echoing with the screeches of the crows as they feasted.
After lunch, they returned to the city to finish their tour.
The capital city of the Mountain Kingdom was called Ispolin. It was built into the southern face of the mountain, carved into the stone. Goliaf Castle sat on top of it, with a clear view of all the miles of forest that coated the faces of the mountain range.
Ispolin was a bit larger than Plumeria. It owed its prosperity to the mines carved deep into the mountains. Workers ripped iron ore from the insides of the tunnels, carting them out to be processed and sold. It was no surprise that the Mountain Kingdom was also famous for its weapons and strong armor. Mines further to the north were also known for harvesting aquamarines that were coveted by all its neighbors.
"This is lovely craftsmanship," Sakura remarked as she picked up a sword at the blacksmith's stall. The blacksmith himself was hard at work inside his workshop. She could see him standing by the heat of the fire, muscles gleaming as brought his tools down on what looked like the beginnings of a sword. The older man watching the weapons on display also glanced back at the blacksmith. He gave a vague grunt of approval before he turned back to Sakura.
"May I?" Sakura requested. The old man gestured to the wares with a nod.
She picked up a sword. Her gloved hand tightened around the simple hilt. The iron was lighter than she expected. She raised it to admire it in the light. The blade glinted when she turned it at just the right angle.
"Excellent balance. And such beautiful attention to detail," she murmured.
"You've got a fine weapon yourself, M'Lady," the old man noted.
Her leather scabbard hung from her belt, as it did almost every day. She carried a falchion, sharpened to a deadly edge on one side. It was light enough to be used one-handed, and that gave her the advantage of speed. A smaller version of this weapon was what her father had used to first teach her to defend herself. And this particular blade had been a gift from her Aunt a few years ago.
"Can't really put a lot of weight behind it, though," he then observed, squinting at the shape of it.
An odd smile appeared on Sakura's face. "Weight isn't necessary. A few well-placed cuts can bring anyone down. Don't you agree?" she quipped in return.
And then she set the weapon back in place on the display. The old man turned quite pale as he bowed
They went on walking. Sasuke eyed Sakura. "I thought you were a bit young to be a General," he confessed.
"Thought?" she repeated without looking at him.
"Thought," was all Sasuke said in response.
Sakura glanced over her shoulder at him. "I knew there was a reason I liked you, Prince," she declared before she hurried on ahead to the next street.
As they perused the wares in various stalls, Sakura began to notice a pattern. While many stalls sold jewels that had been polished and cut, few merchants sold any real jewelry. At best, the gem hung from a simple chain. She made a note to herself. This was something Sasori would love to know.
She stole a glance at Sasuke, who met her gaze with a nod. "Ready to go?" he asked.
They rode back up to the palace late in the afternoon. The guards parted ways with them along the way. Bowing far too many times as they did so.
"I apologize about the state of the fish. I can speak to my father about finding something to suit your taste," Sasuke offered.
"It's alright. No sense in crying over something I can't have yet," Sakura waved him off with a laugh.
And then Sasuke's forehead wrinkled. "Before I forget, I never got a chance to ask," he added. Sakura nodded.
"I was thinking about what you said. About reputations. What do they say about me?" inquired Sasuke.
Sakura squinted up at the sky. She could see clouds gathering on the horizon. But they were far enough that perhaps the storm would miss them. Kaze's ears perked up, as if he were listening for the storm too.
"Well, you're known as somewhat of a heartbreaker," Sakura admitted.
Sasuke's mouth puckered. Like he was trying to decide whether to be offended or not. In the end, he gave a shrug, saying, "You have two options. Either you're cruel and the woman leave crying, or you're kind and they don't leave at all."
"How terrible it must be," she retorted.
"It is. I've had them follow me to every social event of the season. Some threaten to kill themselves if I won't marry them. One woman even crawled into my bed at night. It's unbearable."
"Well, find the least insane one and just marry her. People like us don't love, Prince. We breed," snorted Sakura.
"Breed?" he repeated, face contorting.
Sakura ran her fingers through Kaze's mane. The horse tossed his head, ears twitching. And then he glanced up at her. She smiled and rubbed her palm along his neck in apology for bothering him.
"A ruler must be intelligent and charismatic. Level-headed and just. Beautiful as well. People don't follow ugliness," she listed. She met Sasuke's gaze with a pointed look.
"We are better than the common folk. Our carefully-curated pedigree guarantees that," Sakura added. A smile flickered across her face before she whistled. Her horse broke into a run, dashing along the path. Leaving Sasuke to watch the swish of her perfect ponytail as she galloped ahead of him. As he opened his mouth to call out to her, she looked over her shoulder at him, suddenly smiling again. As if that conversation had only happened in his head.
Supper, that night, was an exercise in self-control. As Sakura struggled not to roll her eyes.
"A party?" Sasuke repeated.
Naruto's fork, heavy with roast meat, froze on the way to his mouth. He tried to meet Sakura's gaze, but she wasn't looking at him.
Sitting at the head of the table was King Fugaku, holding up his glass so a servant could fill it with more wine. Queen Mikoto sat to his left, chewing silently like any good lady should. To his right, in the seat of honor, was Sakura. Who ran her tongue along the edges of her teeth, listening. Her eyes barely flickered upward toward the king at his sudden announcement.
"Just a small one. To welcome our guests," Fugaku said before taking a sip of his drink. Mikoto nodded.
"A wonderful idea," she agreed. And then she turned to Sakura.
"General, please don't worry about your attire for the evening. I will have my personal tailor sent to your quarters tomorrow. He can work his magic in time for the festivities," Mikoto assured her. Sakura, who had lifted her goblet to her mouth, pulled it away to return the smile.
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Sakura replied.
And as the focus of the conversation turned to Naruto, Sakura's eyes finally met Sasuke's across the table. She rolled them. Hard. Sasuke choked on his wine a little as he tried not to laugh.
"A wonderful idea," Sakura repeated after the meal was over. They had retreated to one of the lounges that no one ever used. There were a lot of those. It was a large castle.
"No. It's a wonderful idea," Sasuke corrected her, mimicking the pitch of his mother's voice. Picking up his cup of tea, he turned to face the window. He stood there, back perfectly straight as he sipped. Sakura sat with her right leg crossed over the left. She picked up her own white cup painted with red flowers. Her eyes glittered as she eyed him over the rim of her drink.
"Is it the dancing you hate? Or the nobles?" she asked.
"The artifice in general. The dancing I could also do without," Sasuke confessed. And then he pivoted on his heel to look at her. "Although I'm more worried about you."
Sakura's eyebrows rose as she set her teacup down on the table.
"Do you think that I speak with such candor everywhere I go?" Sakura challenged him. She examined a fraying thread at the bottom of her shirt. There was a dagger strapped to her thigh everywhere she went. She pulled it out of the sheath to carefully sever the stray strand. The blade slipped back into its sheath with a small click. Her gaze then lifted back to Sasuke leaning against the window. Steam rose from his cup, curling and twisting against his chin before dissipating.
"Well… I suppose that explains why you keep mentioning being stabbed," muttered Sasuke.
Eyes popping open, Sakura threw her head back and laughed. Sasuke chuckled too. Hooking a finger into the high collar of his black vest, he loosened his tie just a bit.
"But you do hate nobility, don't you?" he then insisted.
"I don't hate based on social standing," Sakura retorted. But as Sasuke lifted his cup again, she added, "Though I do hate idiots. And I've noticed somewhat of a correlation between the two."
Sasuke lowered his cup.
"This is what I'm talking about. If you said that during the ball, one of my great-uncles would die of a heart attack right then and there."
"…And?" Sakura prompted. "Has he not named an heir yet?"
Sasuke blinked several times. He let out a sigh. "I really hope that you're not lying, and that you're not like this with everyone," was all he said.
It was Sakura's turn to sigh. "You'd think with all the education nobles are given, they'd have some shred of common sense. Some of them do-" Sakura paused to gesture toward Sasuke. He dipped his head. "But many of them don't understand anything outside of drinking and hiring expensive whores. Those are the ones I hate."
Sasuke's eyebrow rose. Just the right one.
"Whores?"
"The more exotic, the more expensive," Sakura confirmed.
Sasuke cleared his throat, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. He went to take another sip of tea and found his cup empty. He set the cup down a little harder than necessary.
"Well, back to the topic at hand. Prepare yourself. My mother's tailor is… talkative. I would ask that you not strike him dead," he said with a touch of humor.
"I would never harm an unarmed foe," Sakura promised. Her hand over her heart as she spoke.
Sasuke's eyes widened. Sasuke was quite unbothered as she drank the rest of her tea.
Soon, it was time to retire for the night. No matter their closeness, people would talk if the two of them were seen spending too much time together. Especially after sunset.
"Your br- cousin has asked for a tour of the palace tomorrow morning. I don't suppose you'd accompany me," Sasuke offered.
"I would prefer not to," she retorted, face turning stony. "The bonds of our friendship are not yet so deep that I would subject myself to such suffering. Sasuke nodded, as if he had been expecting such a response. And then he tilted his head.
"Yet? Would you, eventually?" he wondered.
"It depends on how well you behave yourself," declared Sakura. She got to her feet.
Then I'll see you for lunch tomorrow," she then said before she headed back to her apartment.
Her quarters were empty and quiet. There was no mail waiting for her. Sakura changed out of her clothes and left them in a large basket by the door. Moegi or Haku would take them to be cleaned in the morning as they dropped off breakfast. Her uniform hung in the otherwise bare armoire. She had only worn it for her first day in the castle. But she had still glimpsed one of the maids taking it out to air in the sunlight and brushing it so dust wouldn't settle on the white fabric.
In the morning, Sakura was one of the first to rise, as usual. The stable boys had her horse brushed and saddled up by the time she stepped out to greet them. The guards saluted with their spears as she rode past on Kaze. It had all become part of her routine during the several days that had elapsed since her arrival.
But that day, as she followed the path, Sakura found her thoughts drifting. Their usual quick ride turned into an hour. And then more. Kaze wasn't complaining. He was used to marching. They both were.
Moegi greeted Sakura in the foyer when she returned. "Welcome back, General. Did you enjoy your ride?" Haku also bowed, hands folded in front of her.
"What? Oh… yes, did," Sakura answered. Tucking her helmet under her arm, she strode off down the hall. Moegi and Haku followed on her heels. They had learned her pace by now. They could match her steps without bumping into her or lagging behind.
"What time is it?" asked Saura as they neared the stairs.
"It's almost 9, General. Prince Sasuke sent a message begging your forgiveness," Haku reported.
Sakura climbed the first step. Paused. "For?"
"For inviting Prince Naruto to lunch, General."
Sakura let out a long sigh. "Please send word to Prince Sasuke that he should beg harder," she finally replied.
A smile tilted the corner of Haku's mouth. Moegi quickly covered her lips to hide her titer.
"Ah, and before I forget. Tell the kitchen that I'd like tea to be sent up to my room at night as well. Something herbal if possible," Sakura told them. Haku, who had the better memory of the two, hurried off to deliver the message. Moegi continued on behind Sakura.
"Pardon me if I'm overstepping my bounds, General. But is something troubling you?" Moegi ventured as Sakura reached out to open the door. Fingers lingering on the handle, Sakura turned her head to look at the girl. She was fresh-faced, always so eager to please. Her eyes glittered at the smallest forms of praise.
"I didn't sleep so well last night," Sakura replied.
"Ah! That's why you asked for the herbal tea!" Moegi realized.
Sakura smiled. "Clever girl," she said as she stepped into her quarters.
It was only later, after she had bathed and dressed, that Sakura could even think of the truth. And even then, she took up a pen, dipped it in ink too many times. Trying to gather her thoughts into words that would mean something more than just nonsense.
Dear Sasori,
I've been tossing and turning at night again.
She scribbled it out.
I wish I could tell you that my thoughts
Scribbled.
I'm scared.
Her pen stopped moving. The tip of her nib dug into the paper for too long and left a blot. It spread, blurring out the word. She crumpled the paper up and shoved it into her jacket pocket. She could have one of her maids burn it. Or better yet, she could find an excuse to walk past a fire and burn it herself.
A rush of disgust swelled in her chest as she remember the physician's words when she had first returned from the battlefront.
Yashamaru's hands were always a little too cold. She held very still as they pressed to her throat. He counted her heartbeats. And then he checked her eyes, scrutinizing her pupils. Every so often, he jotted something down in his notes.
They could hear laughter in the distance. The waves lapped at the beams supporting the room. Yashamaru let out a soft sigh. He brushed his hair out of his eyes.
"As I suspected, Lady Sakura. You're in excellent physical condition," he declared.
Yashamaru was a distant relative of hers. The light-colored eyes signature of their family made that obvious enough. Sakura found herself staring at them without really seeing. She traced back the lineage to place him in her family tree. He was the brother-in-law of her second cousin's father. So that made him… her… first cousin… once removed?
His mouth was still moving. She wished that she didn't hear the words coming out of it.
"But I've seen this before. It's stress from the war. You just need to rest."
"I have been resting," Sakura grumbled.
It had been nearly a year since she had returned from her successful campaign on the western border of the kingdom. She had been hailed as a hero. Her battered regiment had marched into the city in a shower of flower petals and applause. There was even a parade, complete with music. She remembered sitting on Kaze's back, ears ringing and her head barely nodding whenever people spoke to her. There were many soldiers who just stood there and wept. What cruelty to celebrate the hell that they had just barely managed to crawl out of.
In the name of reconstruction, she had stayed in Whiteriver Keep. She oversaw the distribution of soldiers and supplies to the scorched areas of the kingdom on the mend after the war. There were still small pockets of surviving enemies to clean up. Some groups she sent just to help people rebuild their towns. If possible, she asked that soldiers be sent as close to home as possible. And for their commanding officers to turn a blind eye every now and then if some slipped out in the night to be with their families.
Three years of battles and travel had taken a toll on her. Sakura's first days back in the castle had been difficult. Servants there had never bent over backwards to please her. And as she jolted out of nightmares, often drawing a weapon, the few who had once served her began to steer clear of her quarters entirely. Every shadow was an enemy. Every sharp noise was the scream of an innocent. When she closed her eyes, a battlefield of ashen corpses stared at her. Sometimes the bodies demanded to know why they had died and she had lived. She never had an answer for them.
It was her Aunt Kushina, the Queen Regent, who had recommended a change of scenery.
"You've always liked Plumeria. And the the sea air might be good for you," she had suggested. Part of her had suspected that it was a trap. But another part of her didn't care. She ran home- to her real home. Where she was welcomed with open arms. Where smiles were real and where when people said, "I love you" and "I care about you", it really meant something.
"You haven't rested. I mean here," Yashamaru persisted, touching two fingers to his temple. As Sakura stared at him, he reached out to touch her temple too.
"Your wounds are healing on your body. But not in there. You need to relax a little," he went on. Sakura's eyes narrowed. She pushed his hand away.
"Alright. Then why don't you try watching your commanding officer's decapitation? And then witness his body torn apart by beasts? Or, why don't you go see enemy soldiers set fire to entire towns? And then see how easily you can relax at night," she spat. Yashamaru recoiled a little, like she had burned him.
"Actually, you know what might be fun? Why don't you find orphans who survived by eating the bodies of their siblings and parents? That should help you rest a little, don't you think?" As she spoke, Sakura could hear her voice catch. She clenched her hands into fists.
"You try having all those thoughts in your head, Doctor. And then see how well you relax," she hissed.
And when she met Yashamaru's gaze, she was almost sorry for lashing out at him.
Slowly, he closed his eyes. Let out a deep breath through his nostrils. When he opened his eyes again, he offered her a wan smile.
"All the same, you need to sleep. The dead need not rest. You do," he insisted.
Sakura's mouth tightened before she confessed: "I'd rather not sleep. My dreams are unkind."
"Moon tea, then. To force sleep despite the dreams," Yashamaru responded.
A shaky sigh left Sakura's mouth. She touched the back of her hand to her forehead. Trying to gather her scattered thoughts in her even more scattered brain.
"This is common. Soldiers returning from war always struggle to adjust," Yashamaru told her.
"Some of them seem fine," Sakura protested.
Yashamaru shook his head. "Some of them are liars, then. Or at least better actors than you are," he corrected her. And then he got out of his seat.
"And I'd hate to offend you more than I already have, but it must be said," Yashamaru then added. Sakura glanced at him, already wary.
"You've left the battlefield. Stop dragging it around with you," he said.
Sakura's expression hardened. She got out of her seat.
"Will you drink the tea?" asked Yashamaru, following her with his eyes.
"Prescribe it," she ordered. She got to her feet and walked off, hands clenching and then unclenching with every fall of her boots against the path.
It had been almost four years since then. It had taken a long time for her to even begin to be able to pretend that things were getting better. The staff in her palace had worked tirelessly to nurse her back to health. None of them complained about the broken dishes or the sleepless nights. They greeted her with smiles each morning, answering her listlessness and anger with compassion. Sakura knew for a fact that they had been the ones to save her.
Still, the nightmares returned every once in a while. It was worse when she was away from home. If the doctor was correct, which he usually was, stress was to blame.
Her nights in Ispolin were spent tossing and turning more and more. Flashes of blades and the booms of cannon fire filled her ears at night. When she jolted awake, sweat dripping down her face, she wondered how a phantom sound could seem so real. Why her scars still ached like her wounds were fresh. Clarity only returned to her with the rising sun, after she had managed an hour or two of sleep to soothe her aching brain.
Kneading the heels of her hands against her eyes, Sakura sucked in a deep breath. Inhaling. Exhaling. Calming the noise in her head.
She let her hands fall to the desk.
There was no point in telling Sasori, she finally decided. He would worry and abandon his duties to come see her. And then he would insist on taking her home right away. There was no point.
Her eyes drifted to the books sitting on the edge of the desk. There were so many interesting titles in the library. His Majesty the King had invited her to explore it at her leisure, even if Sasuke was not with her. When she had mentioned this to Sasuke, he had nearly spit his tea in her face. Half-choking, he had let her know what a huge honor it was. Sakura had suspected as much. But then again, what use was a library when most people didn't know how to read?
With the King's permission, she had begun borrowing a few books at a time to read in her room. Haku and Moegi trimmed the candle wicks to make sure that they were steady enough to read by. During the many occasions that she suffered through a sleepless night, having a book was a small comfort. These particular books were about the accomplishments of some of the Mountain Kingdom's famous tacticians. It was dry, but informative. The texts even suggested a few strategies that she had never imagined.
There was still time left before lunch. She stared at the books for a long time before she made a decision. She scooped the up in her arms and carried them to the other wing of the castle. It was a long walk, but she didn't mind it at all. Keeping her muscles busy distracted her mind a little, too.
As she pushed the double doors open, she thought she heard a noise. She hesitated in the doorway. Free hand sliding down her leg toward her dagger as she waited. She counted to ten, holding her breath to hear better. When it was silent, she let the doors swing shut behind her.
Sakura remembered where she had pulled these books from. It was a testament to how infrequently people entered this place that the empty spots in the bookcase were still there. Where the lonely spines had slumped to one side in the absence of their neighbors. Sakura squeezed them back into place. She skimmed her fingertips along the bindings as she walked past.
As she drifted to another section, she began glancing over the titles.
History, philosophy, religion. She couldn't even begin to imagine how much this room was worth. Each book was handwritten by a scribe. Bound with fine leather. It was, frankly, a bit stupid to let her, a stranger, have free rein of this place. Surrounded by what was essentially piles and piles of gold.
As she moved to a new shelf, she heard a heavy thud. Sakura peered around the corner. Itachi stood frozen, a sheepish expression on his face. A book lay on the floor.
Her eyes traced the bottom of his shadow all the way until they reached the bottom of his dressing gown. It was a thick robe the color of the night sky. The hem shimmered with silver thread. It reminded her of the sheen of polished armor.
"That sound I heard earlier… Was that you, Your Highness?" she queried. When her eyes reached his face, she found his cheeks turning pink. It was easy to tell. He was so pale.
"… I wasn't expecting company. This place is usually empty," he said in response. And then he fidgeted with his dressing gown a bit. It was a beautiful garment. Although the fabric was a bit heavier than she would have expected in warmer weather.
This was only her second time seeing him, but Sakura could see that he truly hadn't expected to see anyone else. His hair was loose. She could tell that he had thrown his robe on without even checking a mirror. Half of his hair was tucked into the collar of his clothes, while the rest fell down his back. She rested her palm against her heart, bowing from the waist.
"My apologies, Your Highness. I was unaware that I was intruding on your personal space. I'll take my leave then," Sakura said. But as she turned, she heard him say: "Wait."
She turned back to him.
"Yes, Your Highness?" she responded.
His forehead wrinkled. His gaze seemed to search for his next words. And when his eyes finally met hers, she was startled by how much lighter they were than his brother's.
"If I'm not mistaken, you're a princess yourself. There's no need for you to bow to me," he pointed out.
Sakura opened her mouth. Closed it. Head tilting a little to one side, she scrutinized his expression. When she decided that he wasn't being condescending, she finally spoke.
"I was led to believe that someone such as yourself would have received the finest education in foreign affairs. What a shame," she sighed. And then she gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes as she added: "Please excuse me." She bowed once again before she turned and left the room. The heavy door closing with a bang behind her.
Sakura was out on the terrace for lunch as she had promised. But when Sasuke showed up with Naruto on his heels, he hesitated. The look she gave the both of them over the rim of her teacup seemed like a warning.
"Fetch some milk. It appears that the General's tea is bitter," Sasuke said to the nearest servant. The woman bowed before she hurried off.
"Good afternoon," Sasuke then greeted her.
"Good afternoon," Sakura replied, perfectly polite. If not for her her sharp gaze.
Sasuke and Naruto exchanged looks. When Naruto gestured to the seat across from Sakura, Sasuke gave a quick shake of his head. He settled beside her, instead. Where, at the very least, he wouldn't have to look her in the eyes each time he looked up. Naruto mustered a grin as he settled in that spot instead.
Sakura set her cup down in the saucer. It barely made a sound.
"Hi, Sakura. You must have been up early. Did you go horseback riding?" Naruto greeted her, keeping his voice light.
"Yes, Your Highness," was all she said. Her eyes met his, daring him to ask another question. Naruto's smile sagged, as did his shoulders. He fumbled to find another topic of conversation.
"Have you been adjusting well here? I like their food," he ventured.
"I can eat just about anything, Your Highness."
"Oh…. Well, what's your favorite thing you've eaten here?" Naruto struggled on.
"I don't have favorites, Your Highness. As long as they're not rations."
Naruto seemed to give up after that second failure. Sakura's eyes were cold as she let the conversation fizzle out that way.
Sasuke grimaced before he took a sip of his tea.
"Is your tea bitter as well, Highness? The milk should be here shortly," one of the servants whispered. Sasuke just nodded.
The milk, along with their lunch, arrived not long after. Naruto perked up a little at the steaming slices of ham. He seemed most excited to have something to do instead of fidgeting in that silence.
Sakura watched, arms folded across her chest, as Naruto helped himself to the food.
"General… we haven't known each other for long. But… I'd like to request something," Sasuke finally spoke up.
"Yes, Your Highness," Sakura said, turning her face toward him.
She found him with his lips mashed together. He coughed into his fist once before he requested, "Can you please stop making it so uncomfortable here? I don't think I could eat a single bite with you sitting there like… that." And with the last word, Sasuke gestured at her tense posture.
Sakura looked down at herself. And then at Naruto, who was nibbling at a roll, peeking warily at her with the look of a child who had recently been scolded.
She exhaled through her nostrils. Uncrossed her arms. Took a deep breath. Let it out.
"You're right," was all she said.
She could feel their eyes on her, waiting for the rest of the apology. Because that's what usually happened in a situation like this. There should have been an explanation. Or at the very least, an excuse. But while Itachi's comment had dug a sharp finger into an old wound, it had reminded her of something she had learned as a child. Sitting on her Aunt Kurenai's lap as the smoke from her pipe tickled her nose.
"You are a princess. And you will be a queen. Do not apologize."
Sasuke gave another fake cough. He shook out his napkin with a snap and laid it in his lap.
"Well… Prince Naruto and I visited my family's mausoleum. Unfortunately, he seemed not to have enjoyed the tour," Sasuke tried to change the subject. Naruto wrinkled his nose.
"Why have dead bodies just laying there? They should be buried," Naruto protested.
"Sometimes, people don't have the luxury," Sakura told him in a quiet voice.
But he went on: "And, I mean, people rot. That's disgusting. No one wants to see that. And the smell! They're better off staying out of sight."
By now, Sasuke had caught the look on Sakura's face. The tightness in her shoulders. The way her mouth flattened, lips pressing together. It took a few seconds for Naruto to feel her stare burning into the side of his face.
"Like I said, Your Highness, burying the dead isn't always an option. Religions and traditions differ- even from village to village in the same kingdom. The condition of the land and soil could also be a factor," she enunciated. And then she looked Naruto in the eyes, her voice going flat.
"Sometimes we have to carry the bodies through the mud. Stinking and rotting all over our uniforms. You see, the soil in the south is too wet, too swampy. The bodies don't stay buried for long," Sakura explained. Her voice measured and as calm as if she were discussing the weather.
Her stare pinned Naruto in place. He didn't move. His face had gone very white. Sakura was quiet. And then she nodded several times.
"But perhaps you're right. Keeping the dead out of sight is comfortable for people like you, isn't it? And of course, it's all about what you prefer," Sakura added.
A bead of sweat made its way down the side of Naruto's face. Then another. And it must have been sweat gathering in Naruto's eyes too.
Sakura turned her head toward Sasuke, suddenly smiling again. "I apologize for Prince Naruto's lack of tact. He's had quite a sheltered upbringing. It must have been an honor to visit a sacred place like your family's crypt."
Sasuke's gaze flickered to Naruto. Back to Sakura. Because Naruto's mouth was open, one hand reaching toward Sakura. She should have been able to see him out of the corner of her eye. But she kept her eyes trained on Sasuke instead.
"Well… I had no idea it would be interesting to you. Would like me to take you after lunch?" Sasuke offered. And then his gaze skimmed over to Naruto again. The sudden sharpness there made Naruto lean back a little. Mouth pulling into a smirk, Sasuke added: "I didn't have the time to pay my respects properly. I would love an excuse to return there."
Sakura caught on to his game. She hid her smile behind her teacup.
After the meal, Sakura spent the rest of the day following Sasuke around the palace grounds. They had explored much of it already. But the mausoleum was a new adventure.
The underground crypt was dusty and draped in cobwebs. There was a strange charm to it nonetheless. Monstrous carvings of stone lions filled the walls. Statues of more lions stood guard at the entrance of each room. They went through several rooms, climbing deeper and deeper into the ground. It occurred to Sakura that this would be an excellent place for Sasuke to kill her if he wished. When she pointed this out, he looked horrified.
"Why would I do that?" he hissed, rattling the lantern in her direction.
"Cleanup would be easy. You could just leave the corpse here," Sakura went on.
Shaking his head, Sasuke laughed as he led them on. Sakura's smile dropped as soon as his back was turned. It didn't seem like that was his plan. For now, at least.
The dried bodies of past Uchiha nobles lay on stone slabs, like exhibits in a desiccated museum. The founder of the Uchiha dynasty, a king named Madara the First, lay in the largest chamber. His body was so old that the thick cape of velvet and fur he wore had partially rotted away. Or perhaps it had been eaten by moths.
Sakura lingered by the slab. Sasuke stood beside her, holding the lantern up so that she could peer into the dried face. For an instant, Sakura could imagine the grace that must have embodied that shriveled face.
"On the island, they believe that people are reborn. If their spirits are given the proper rites," Sakura mused. The light moved. She began following Sasuke out of the chamber.
"Do you believe that as well?" Sasuke's voice drifted back to her.
Clasping her hands behind her, Sakura shook her head.
"I sincerely hope not. I hope that this is it. I'm exhausted by the thought of having to do all this again," she sighed. She heard Sasuke's feet scrape to a halt. She stopped too.
Sasuke had started to climb the staircase to the outside. He had turned to look at her. The lantern casting just his throat and bottom of his face in warm, orange light.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're a very sad person?" he queried.
A smile bloomed across her face.
"Only the ones that really know me," she responded.
That night, as Sakura prepared for bed, Haku knocked on her door. He handed her a letter. It was still cool. A messenger had probably just brought it through the castle gates. She patted Haku's cheek, grateful for how he was always running for the smallest things she requested. Fighting to bring her hot water while it still steamed. Ironing her clothes twice to make sure that they hung just the way she liked.
Haku's eyes went wide. He touched his cheek, gaze wondering as it followed her around the room. Sakura plucked a cookie off the tray on her desk. She placed it in Haku's mouth and gestured for him to sit. She could hear him moving as she slit the envelope. When the unfolded the thick, creamy paper, she smelled salt.
Dearest,
I've been rather occupied, so please excuse the lack of correspondence. There were pirates lingering around the southern waters near the island. Both the Counts urged diplomacy. So naturally, I ignored such foolish counsel.
I gathered a small fleet. We destroyed their schooner with little challenge. We found them transporting children. Slaves, I hope. Anything else would be worse to imagine. The criminals are currently awaiting judgment in the cells by the docks. I suspect that a few hangings will be in order. You know my opinion on pirates. I'll be glad to see them swing.
I write this sitting in the port of Plumeria. The Regent asked for my presence at Whiteriver Keep. I spewed some nonsense about overseeing our family's lands in your absence. He was very apologetic in his response. He seems to have forgotten that you've named Gaara as your proxy. Or perhaps he does not understand what a proxy is. The poor man must have headaches all day.
My little birds tell me that you have been having a grand time in the Mountain Kingdom. Not that I doubted you, darling. Strengthening ties to our neighbor to the north is key, as you already know. But I will needlessly remind you to be careful.
I've enclosed something for you. A small token to keep you safe when I'm not there.
Thinking of you always,
Sasori
Sakura needed to burn the letter. The jab at the Regent's intelligence wasn't something she wanted anyone else to see. She could imagine Sasori rolling his eyes as he penned the insult. And then she could imagine one of the Regent's followers bellowing about treason until they turned purple in the face.
As she unfolded the paper the rest of the way, something fell on the rug. She stooped to grab it. It was a piece of fabric. She recognized the feeling of the high-quality silk only her island could produce. It was a soft shade of lilac with a snake curled around a staff stitched into the center. When she unwrapped it, she found a pair of earrings. They were made of gold. Sparkling pink tourmaline dangled from the wire. She shook them. She could see the slosh of something liquid inside the crystals.
There were many codes that the Haruno family used to communicate. Aunt Kurenai had made sure to teach them every one that she knew. This included using images that others would just see as decorations and patterns to send messages. In this case, the embroidery indicated that this was an antidote. Aunt Kurenai wore a similar pair each day. The top of the jewelry was designed to detach, revealing an opening at the top of the crystals. She had only ever had to use them once, and not on herself.
Sakura slipped the hooks through her ears. She slept with them on that night. And that night, her dreams weren't of clashing swords and blood misting through the air.
Instead, she was lying in a hammock by the beach. Swaying in the strong ocean wind. One foot dangling. She heard her father's voice, rising and falling in murmured words and laughter. The night was cool, but she was so comfortable. Wrapped up in something soft that smelled familiar. And she was safe.
It was the first time in a while that she had felt that way.