Amaryllis
Chapter 6
A knock at her door interrupted Sakura's reading.
It wasn't Haku because Haku sat in the corner of her room, folding fresh towels. And it couldn't be Moegi. Because the two attendants had developed the habit of whispering "General" outside her door. If she was sleeping, their soft voices wouldn't rouse her. If she was awake, she would reply. It was a good system. Because she had spent the large part of the last few weeks napping throughout the day.
There was another knock.
"Yes?" she replied.
"Do you like peonies?" came Itachi's voice.
"Peonies?" she repeated. Just to be certain that she hadn't misheard.
Haku got to his feet, taking a cautious step toward the door. He waited until Sakura nodded before he crossed the room. He pulled the door open.
Prince Itachi stood in something other than a dressing gown and slippers. The crisp black shirt and tailored grey pants seemed odd on him. It was a little jarring to see him standing there dressed like that. She was so used to seeing him wrapped up in robes.
He brandished a large bouquet of flowers. The rounded petals were a delicate shade of light purple. He seemed unsure of what to do with them for a moment. And then Haku held his hands out. Itachi placed them in the servant's arms. Haku brought them over for Sakura to inspect. "I'm sorry. I should have sent word ahead of time. This was all a little impulsive," Itachi confessed. And the blank look on Sakura's face probably did a good job of conveying her surprise.
"Oh…. peonies," Sakura finally understood.
"I thought it would be fitting. They symbolize healing," Itachi informed her. Sakura laughed.
"Then I could certainly use them. Although, if I'm honest with you, I've received enough flowers to last a lifetime."
She looked down at the flowers. Touched the petals.
"Still… thank you," added Sakura. She then glanced at him. "You look well," she observed.
Itachi nodded. "My physician finally gave me permission to leave my room. I'm on the way to lunch with my father," explained Itachi. When he stood up straight like this, he didn't look nearly as frail as she remembered him.
"Well, then I'm honored that you used part of your good health to visit me. Despite appearances, I'm also well. I went for a walk this morning," Sakura responded.
Karin had removed Sakura's stitches about a week ago. As long as things continued to progress smoothly, Sakura was allowed light activity. So no horseback riding and no combat. Kaze sulked whenever she visited the stable, laying his head on her shoulder, giving her big, teary eyes.
In the month since Sasori's departure from Ispolin, Sakura had gone through all the moon tea he had left behind. A few days later, a package arrived from Plumeria. Moon tea, dried fruit, and her favorite nightgown sat nestled in a bed of banana leaves. They sat on her desk, giving her a whiff of home whenever she walked past.
Letters continued to pour in and out of Goliaf Castle. Sakura had purchased the contracts of several messengers based in Ispolin. They ran messages exclusively for her. And in return, she made sure that they were rewarded handsomely for fast deliveries.
It took about a week for a letter from Goliaf to reach Whiteriver. And several days more than that for a letter to reach Plumeria. Still, the responses were surprisingly prompt. It seemed that word travelled quickly back home.
Ino's normally smooth, elegant hand was jagged as she scrawled a reply. She asked after Sakura's health first, as was polite. And then expressed her devastation that Sir Sai was not the noble knight all the court ladies claimed him to be.
What use is a handsome face when is unable to perform his only duty?
Sakura could imagine Ino sniffing as she wrote that critique. She went on to inform Sakura that she would continue to eye the knight, however.
Given that Mother and Father will likely marry me off to some ancient Count, I will at least allow myself to look upon a handsome face now and then. I don't believe the goddess will strike me down for that.
Ino's letter was not entirely light-hearted gossip, however, She went on to update Sakura on internal affairs- things that only a high-ranking family like Count Yamanaka's family would be aware of.
The Queen Regent remains unsurprisingly silent about the matter of your injury. The entire court is abuzz with gossip. Some have accused you of working with the Mountain Kingdom to eliminate Prince Naruto. Otherwise say that it was staged so that you could gain favor with the Uchiha family. The speculation that some of these creatures indulge in is truly amazing.
Mother threw a garden party last week. Lady Hanabi had the gall to ask me if I knew when Prince Naruto would become king. Her mother made a big show of appearing horrified. But one can tell that that's the sort of conversation that surrounds her at home. Mother laughed and said that it's because she's just a child. But she's nearly 12. Father was already preparing me for marriage at that age.
Be well, Sakura. Be well or I fear what will befall us all if you are not.
Ino did not sign her name. The red wax stamped with a bush clover was more than a signature. It was the symbol of the Yamanaka family. And Ino's seal, in particular, looked a little different from that of her mother or father. That was how it was in every family. Hours and hours were spent by private tutors to educate noble children of these minute differences. Sakura was no different in that aspect.
Sakura, hand on her cheek, sat staring at the letter for a long time. And then she set it in the stack to burn. In truth, most letters she received nowadays went into the fire.
"Power breeds nosiness. Better to leave your secrets in your head," Sakura remembered her mother once telling her. Pointer finger pressed to her lips, the Queen had smiled. And even though it was just advice, Sakura had giggled and copied her mother. It was like they were sharing a secret.
The next letter she burned was from her Aunt Kurenai.
Should we locate the mastermind behind this plot, I will offer his head to you.
The vindictive streak in their family was nothing to scoff at. Sakura almost pitied the man or woman responsible. Her aunt was very creative and equally unforgiving.
Among the letters she kept were some from Sasori. In the few where he didn't openly slander other nobles, he kept her up to speed with the goings-on at home.
When I returned to Sami, Mother gave me an earful about not causing trouble for you. A traitorous cousin of ours chimed in that causing trouble for you is one of my finer talents. I would defended myself against such a base accusation until I imagined how much you would laugh upon hearing that.
I would add here how I hope you are recovering well. But you and I both know that you are impossible to kill. So I will simply express my confidence that you are healthy and causing mayhem by the time this reaches you.
Though Sakura had smiled throughout the letter, when she reached the final paragraph, that smile faded.
By the way, a little bird delivered some information the other day. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that they move so quickly. It seems you've gathered some good people. One of your informants wonders whether that boy was the intended target. I find the question a bit odd, but not impossible. Another bird suggested to check for poison. Although that seems a bit of a dead end, considering that you seemed fine. I will, obviously, have my people do some searching as well.
All my love,
Sasori
The letter was creased from how many times Sakura had unfolded and refolded it. Sasori had obviously tried to keep the mood light with his jokes. But the matter she had entrusted to Colonel Hyuuga was no laughing matter. If he was as smart as she thought he was, he would have asked her three Lieutenant Generals for help in his investigation.
It had crossed her mind that perhaps this assassination attempt wasn't actually an assassination attempt. There were too many possibilities for her to be able to make any sort of decision. There was no rush, however. Even if she never learned the truth, she would get her answers. She always did.
Before crossing paths with the assassin during the summer festival, Sakura had sparred with Sasuke a few times. It kept her skill from growing too dull. Pampered prince or not, Sasuke had clearly receive tutelage from the best masters in his country. And he was a good student. With his competitive streak, Sasuke began to pick up on her suggestions. He lost every match, but he never seemed truly upset at the outcome. Someday, she thought, he would become a splendid sparring partner.
By the time August rolled around, the physician approved Sakura for more rigorous exercise. Sakura proposed a spar to Sasuke over lunch. His dark eyes sparkled as they flew to her.
"There's no rush," she chuckled as she watched him rush to finish his tea. He winced as he burned his tongue. They finished their meal and promised to meet in an hour, giving them enough time to dress and find each other outside.
The courtyard behind the castle was paved with smooth tan stone and it even had steps leading down to the royal gardens. The round fountains draped artfully with ivy made the courtyard a popular place for the young noble ladies to have late afternoon tea. The western wing of the palace provided shade against the summer sun, providing the perfect refuge for people afraid to tan their delicate skin.
Sakura's afternoon spar with Sasuke drew attention, as always. The noble ladies of court, who spent most of their days eating pastries, drinking tea, and gossiping to one another, flocked to the courtyard whenever Sakura and Sasuke drew their swords. They sat whispering to one another behind their fans. The only reason they didn't chatter out loud were the looks of ire they drew from both the General and the Prince.
There was still some tightness in her back. The pain made her reflexes just a little slower than normal. Sasuke drew blood once. When he recoiled, she barked a reprimand at him not to hold back. When he drew blood a second time, Sakura graced him with a smile. She managed to nick his right wrist before the match ended.
Before Sakura could suggest a rematch, Sasuke lowered his blade.
"How did you do that?" he wondered.
"Do what?" asked Sakura, dabbing her forehead with the back of her hand. Haku ran forward with two clean towels. Sakura thanked him as she used that to wipe her face instead.
"You almost bent your blade. It was under mine. And then it was suddenly on top," Sasuke struggled to describe.
"Ah. That." Sakura finally realized what he meant. She handed her towel back to Haku. And then she took a step toward Sasuke. She turned to the side so that he could see her form. She extended her arms, gripping her falchion in one hand.
"You need to relax your wrist," she instructed him.
Later that afternoon, they met again. This time in a salon. Running her fingers through the ends of her damp ponytail, Sakura settled in the chair across from Sasuke's. Moegi moved around pouring their tea into elegant white and red cups. She slipped out of the room, leaving them with hot tea and a platter of pastries stacked high between them.
"What will you do once the summer ends?" questioned Sasuke as he picked up his cup. The fragrant steam gathered around his face as he blew on his drink. Sakura dropped a cube of sugar into her own cup but left it alone to cool off for a bit.
"I'll head home- to Plumeria. I need to rest," she answered.
"What will the weather be like during your travels?" Sasuke went on to inquire. He never seemed to grow tired of hearing about the island. After some thought, Sakura dropped another cube of sugar into her beverage but didn't move to drink it.
"We usually get some strong storms during the summer. And it tends to rain a lot in the middle of the spring. But it should be fair around then," Sakura told him. Just because Sasuke didn't look satisfied by that answer, she added, "There should be a large silk harvest when I return." When Sasuke's eyes lit up, she explained.
Silk was a violent and time-consuming business. The worms that had been carefully fed and sheltered all their lives were boiled. They brushed the outside of the cocoons to unravel the delicate threads. Deft hands worked what seemed like endless hours to take the wispy strands and turn it into thread. Which was woven into cloth.
This raw silk was then handed off to the artisans who extracted the juices from shellfish to dye the silk purple. Other plants and chemicals painted other bolts of fabric a rainbow of colors. Light blue was Sasori's favorite. Sakura preferred white, with a dash of red every now and then to honor her family's crest.
The finished bolts of silk sold for high prices that could feed a family many times over. And despite all the hard work, the dyeing houses were always filled with laughter and chatter. Fingers stained green and yellow waved to friends. Women often brought their children to work, teaching them, even from a young age, what combinations would produce the most beautiful colors. Women without husbands could survive and even prosper this way. Sakura adored these women with their skins forever dyed a mosaic of bright colors. Loved the way that they could tell who had dyed what just by the particular shade of the fabric. Loved that they held themselves with such pride as they worked.
They sat in a pleasant silence as Sasuke took in all the descriptions. Sakura sipped her tea and bit into a strawberry tart. Sasuke seemed lost deep in thought as he picked up a muffin. Ripped off the top.
"I'd really like to see that someday," he mused.
"…Perhaps someday you will. I wouldn't mind you coming for a visit. I'm sure your parents would love to see you strengthening diplomatic ties between our families," Sakura suggested.
Sasuke's eyes widened. "Really?"
Sakura merely nodded, taking another sip of tea.
After a long moment, Sasuke's expression shifted. "Oh, I almost forgot. Have you heard the news about tonight?"
Sakura shook her head while reaching for a crustless sandwich. She peeked between the slices of soft bread. It looked like it might be a savory sandwich. She took a bite.
"Apparently my brother is feeling well enough. So you'll be formally introduced to him at dinner tonight," Sasuke drawled, his eyes rolling.
"Really," she replied without any real inflection in her voice.
When Sasuke was silent, she tried to urge him to keep going. "You did mention once that you two are not… close."
Sasuke grunted his affirmation. Elbows on his armrests, jaw set. As Sakura observed his posture, she realized that that was the look of someone who had had to hold his tongue many times over.
She took pity on him. Which was why she asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
His rant tumbled out of him.
"When my father and mother had their first child, the entire kingdom celebrated. A boy. A handsome boy. And they named him Itachi. Raised him to be king," Sasuke began. His mouth twisted in a smirk. "They had me three years later. Ever since I was a boy, it was made clear to me. My brother would be king. I was just a prince."
To her surprise, Sasuke added, "I was alright with that, you know." He looked up at her. "I never wanted to be a king. I just wanted my brother to spend more time with me. I wanted my father to say 'good job' instead of 'your brother is better at this'."
And then, Sasuke recounted how his brother's health had taken a sharp decline. He could no longer practice sword-fighting as he always had. Strain of any sort sent him into an attack that robbed him of his breath. Sometimes he even coughed up blood.
"I thought, that if he was sick, perhaps my parents would start to see my accomplishments. Realize that I could do things on my own," Sasuke recalled. He shook his head. "Instead, if I was with my brother when he suffered an attack, it was my fault. Why wasn't I looking after my brother? What had I done to aggravate him?" And the times when Itachi lay sick in bed, his parents fawned over their sickly heir. Sasuke was left in the hands of his tutors and the servants for weeks at a time.
"Once. When I was eight, my father told me to stop being so selfish."
Sakura couldn't help but shake her head as she listened. She empathized with Sasuke more than she was comfortable with.
"You wouldn't be so angry about this if this was all something in the past. What's so bad about things now?" Sakura queried once Sasuke had fallen silent. Sinking low in his seat, Sasuke spared her a brooding glance. Clearing his throat, Sasuke crossed his arms over his chest.
"Well… a couple years back, parliament met and decided that having an heir to the throne with such unstable health was too risky. At the same time, my father is unwilling to set my brother aside completely. So as of now, there is no real heir to the throne," Sasuke explained.
Sakura blinked hard as she pieced together the state of affairs that Sasuke had presented to her. She had heard rumors about something like that back home, but she hadn't realized just how serious the situation was. Weighing the details in her mind, Sakura only spoke when she had had enough time to gather the right words.
"…Crown Prince… but not…" she mused.
Letting out a sigh, Sakura leaned back in her seat.
"A crowned heir to the throne who may or may not be the true heir. Disappointment. Uncertainty. This is all beginning to sound like my autobiography," commented Sakura. The appraising look Sasuke shot her over his drink betrayed very little.
Many minutes passed before Sasuke spoke again. He set his cup down in the saucer. "I really enjoy your company, Sakura. For your wit, among a host of other things. And that made it very easy for me to decide to hate Prince Naruto when he arrived."
"I thought it was because of his stupidity," she snorted. Sasuke smirked right back at her.
"Of course, that does play a part. But that face you made whenever anyone brought him up. That was what made my decision."
"What face?" she wondered.
"That face… like you're trying very hard not to cry. So you pretend to be angry instead," he slowly replied.
A chill ran up her spine. "You presume many things about me, my friend," she said.
"I do. But it's also because I've practiced the same face in the mirror many times over," he assured her. And then, Sasuke smiled at her. "I've decided that I'm on your side. And I hope that you're on mine."
Sakura could read between the lines. "Are you asking me to support your bid to the throne should it come to violence?"
"No."
The simplicity of his response baffled her.
"No?" Sakura repeated.
"No. I'm just asking you to be my friend. Because I think we understand each other better than others might," answered Sasuke.
"Friendship isn't free. Not for people like us," she pointed out. That was a lesson she had learned a long time ago. And apparently, so had Sasuke. She could see it in his eyes as he looked right back at her.
"I'm aware. But I'm not strong like you. I don't have the motivation or the courage to try to seize the throne. So it's alright if you think I'm a coward. I just need someone who understands," he confessed.
"I might not," she warned him.
"That's alright," replied Sasuke. His eyes crinkling as he smiled. Only this smile was different. It occurred to her later, that this was probably the first time Sasuke had actually smiled at her.
After tea, Sakura had some time to herself. She returned to her apartment. Sasuke walked with her. She was long past the point in her recovery where walking was difficult. The gesture was nice nonetheless.
As Haku opened up the doors, Sasuke's gaze fell on the white porcelain vase sitting in the foyer.
"Flowers," Sasuke observed in an appropriately neutral tone.
"Yes," she responded. "Peonies. They were a gift."
"Huh," Sasuke said, noncommittally. Letting her know that he wasn't interested the slightest.
Now, sitting at her desk, Sakura could see the vase through the open bedroom door. Her eyes drifted over and over from her unfinished letter to the petals.
Sakura was no stranger to receiving flowers. Just last month, she had received baskets upon baskets of blooms. And the cloying fragrance had filled the hospital room until she, unable to stand the headaches anymore, had Moegi and Haku dispose of them to be made into compost for the Queen's gardens. There had mostly been carnations of varying colors. Some vibrant wildflowers had also appeared, probably picked from the sides of the mountain. As if that added labor was intended to impress her.
The peonies were different, though. Sakura had never been handed flowers like that before. More women gave flowers to her than men did, and even then, they were always brought by a messenger or someone's lady-in-waiting. Even Sasori had never arrived with a bouquet in his arms. She didn't know what to call this feeling that sat in the bottom of her throat. But she didn't like it.
She was grateful when Moegi came to help her dress for dinner. The girl's chatter helped her keep her mind off things. Haku was normally the quieter of the two. But Sakura couldn't help but read into Haku's expressions as he glanced at her.
The two attendants guided her down to the Grand Hall. Sakura knew where it was by now. But it was still nice to have footsteps with her as she walked down from her apartment. Haku brushed off her shoulders and straightened one of the medals on her jacket.
Haku's eyes met hers. He opened his mouth, like he was about to say something. But then his gaze flickered over Sakura's shoulder. He closed his mouth. Smiled.
"Enjoy your dinner, General," he greeted her with a bow. Moegi also bowed before she took her leave.
Sakura took a moment to square her shoulders. She took stock of her expression. It needed to be just arrogant enough. It wouldn't do for her to slouch into the room looking like a scolded dog. When she nodded at the servants flanking the door, they pulled them open.
There was a long wooden table in the middle of the room. Seated at the head, of course, was King Fugau. To his left sat the queen.
"My apologies for my tardiness, Your Majesties," Sakura greeted them.
"Please, General, no need for an apology. Our sons are even tardier," the king said with a wave of his hand. Sakura dipped her head. She glanced around the table, pretending to notice just then that Naruto was missing.
"Will Prince Naruto not be joining us?" she asked, even as she made her way to the table. A male servant rushed to pull out the chair to the right of the king. She sat. Keeping her hands out of the way as various servants filed in and out to spread a napkin across her lap. To bring a glass. And then wine to fill the glass.
"Unfortunately, Prince Naruto has sent word that he has taken ill and will be unable to dine with us this evening," the queen said as the doors opened. Sasuke walked in, already looking like he didn't want to be there. Just behind him followed Itachi. His eyes scanned the room. When they fell on Sakura, an odd expression crossed his face. Like he wasn't sure of what his face was supposed to be doing. When Sakura smiled, he returned the expression. He almost seemed relieved.
The king and queen greeted their sons as they settled at the table. Sasuke sat to Sakura's right, even though no one had told him to. And that left Itachi to sit on his mother's left. Sakura could feel the scrutiny already.
"Ah, General, we don't believe you've been introduced to our eldest. This is our son, Prince Itachi," Fugaku spoke up.
"We're actually already acquainted, Your Majesty. We met by chance in the library," admitted Sakura. Mikoto's eyebrows rose. Sakura also noticed how Sasuke was staring at his brother. It wasn't a friendly expression.
"So, Sasuke, I heard you and the General had a pleasant spar today," Mikoto quickly changed topics as the food began to appear, steam still rising from the platters.
Sasuke stole a sidelong glance at Sakura, who shrugged. Sasuke nodded.
"Well, I'm glad to see that Sasuke has been treating you well, General. I can't tell you how many times he's sent honored guests home in tears."
Sakura already had an idea of how this conversation would go. So she was unsurprised when halfway through the second course the queen said, "It makes me wonder, General. Sasuke is of a certain age. If you two are so compatible, closer ties might be something to consider."
Sakura barely batted an eyelash. "I thank you for your consideration, Your Majesty. But my circumstances are such that marriage will not be possible until certain… affairs are handled."
The delicate words didn't hide what she was talking about. Mikoto's eyes sparkled with curiosity.
"Oh, of course," she said in a tone that indicated otherwise.
When dessert was cleared from the table, the king got to his feet. The queen took his arm. They thanked everyone for the pleasant meal. And then they left.
Sakura stared after them. Even when the doors had closed and they were no longer in the room. Leaning back in his seat, Sasuke said nothing. Itachi sat swirling his glass around and around, even though there was nothing inside.
Sakura motioned for more wine. The servant filled all three of their glasses.
"Well… that was stressful," mused Sakura.
Sakura stole a sidelong glance in Sasuke. Sasuke missed this, because he was busy glowering in his brother's direction. None of them spoke again. Only when Sakura finished her wine and stood did the odd silence break. The two men rose, too. Their chairs scraping across the floor was a welcome sound.
"I'm afraid I must bid you goodnight, Prince Itachi," Sakura said, her palm over her heart. Itachi nodded, the confusion apparent on his face.
Sakura then looked over at Sasuke. "Come with me," she ordered.
At her approach, the servants pulled the double doors open once again. Sasuke tossed his napkin onto his plate. He avoided looking at his brother as he hurried after Sakura.
"Where are going?" demanded Sasuke.
"The garden," was all she told him.
Now that he knew the destination, Sasuke took the lead. He walked tight-lipped as they made their way through the empty corridors. They emerged out a set of doors, finally arriving at the terrace. Sasuke hurried down the steps, hands in the pockets of his trousers.
Sakura paused at the top of the steps. Her stare traced the tense outline of his shoulders. But Sasuke gave no indication that he even noticed that she was falling behind.
"It's difficult. Isn't it," she called.
Sasuke froze halfway down the steps.
"What is?" he retorted, not looking at her.
"It would be easier if you really hated all of them. Your brother. Your parents."
She saw Sasuke clench his hands into fists. She knew that she was right.
"You should pay closer attention, Your Highness. While your royal father certainly supports your brother, it seems like your royal mother favors you," she advised him.
"What?"
Before Sasuke could press her for more information, Sakura waved. "I'm off to bed. I'll see you tomorrow. Be in a better mood by then," she requested.
She took her time heading up to her apartment.
It wasn't uncommon for a king and queen to disagree on a future heir. From Sasuke's story, it was obvious that the king still wanted Itachi to be his heir. But from the queen's needling, Sakura could see that she had some plans for her younger son. Whether that was for him to take the throne, she wasn't sure. But this was all valuable intelligence she would have to share with her family when she returned home.
Arriving at Goliaf a week and a half before Naruto had been no happy coincidence. Her excuse had been that she preferred to travel alone. And that it was faster if she moved alone. Both things were true. But coming first had proven to be a critical advantage. Despite what Sasuke had said, she suspected that he felt close to her because she had dug her claws into him first. Behind his bone-headed clumsiness, Naruto was actually quite likable and good at making friends.
Back in the Forest Kingdom, the nobles fawned over Naruto. They indulged his whims, laughed at all his jokes.
"You should really just push him and his parents off a cliff before you turn 16," Sasori had once advised. When she had remarked on his lack of discretion, Sasori had yanked her sleeve up to reveal an array of half-faded scars and bruises.
"Look at what you do. Do they even know how to appreciate the depth of your sacrifices?" he had spat. "Things will only grow ore complicated the longer you let them fester."
"I should have listened to his nagging," Sakura huffed under her breath as she climbed the staircase up to her apartment.
There was a nagging soreness in her right shoulder that had irritated her ever since early that morning. Maybe a hot bath and an early night would resolve that problem. Hands in her back pockets, Sakura strode leisurely along the halls. As she rounded the corner to the corridor where her room was, Sakura spotted an odd thing.
There was a person splayed out on the floor. As she drew near, Sakura recognized the clothing and the hair. After a quick look around, Sakura found that no one was hovering nearby. She turned Itachi onto his back, pushing his hair out of his face. She watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest. And then, to her surprise, his eyes opened. Grasping her arm tightly, he sucked in ragged breaths.
"I'm going to have to move you, Prince," Sakura warned she put her arm around him. Despite his gasping, she forced him to sit up. Rubbing her hand in circles on his back, she breathed deeply and evenly. She felt his hand clench the front of her jacket as he struggled to take in shaky breaths. But gradually, his breathing began to match her own.
"There, there. Everything's alright," she murmured. Slowing. Slowing. Sweat dripped down Itachi's face and neck as he sucked in a deep breath. Until, bit by bit, he breathed when she breathed. She smiled at him.
"There we go, Prince. See? Everything's fine," she continued speaking.
By the time his breathing had eased, Itachi slumped against her. Sakura looked up as she heard a door open. Drawn by the noise, two heads poked out. Both Moegi and Haku gasped. Haku's head disappeared back inside, while Moegi threw herself out into the hallway, fussing and fretting as she tried to figure out how to help.
Sakura pulled Itachi's arm over her shoulder before she coaxed him to his feet. She steadied him as he faltered to one side. Eyes sliding shut, he rested his head against her. She looked over at Moegi, waving her arm. Moegi pulled the prince's other arm over her shoulder. Together, they helped him shuffle a little further down the hall. Until they reached the open door to Sakura's apartment.
When they walked inside, Sakura nearly ran into Haku, who was running around. He pulled her cloak from the closet, folding it in frantic movements.
"You need to go before they see you, General. It's dark, so you need to move quickly," Haku was whispering. And then he froze in his tracks as he saw that Itachi was on his feet.
"Oh… you didn't kill him," Haku remarked.
"Haku, what have I done to make your first assumption that I had murdered a prince of this nation?" Sakura questioned. Haku turned bright red.
"Nothing, General! I was just… he was on the floor. And you were there. And my first thought was…. what if you get caught? I wouldn't want you to get in trouble…" he mumbled. Moegi laughed as she helped Sakura pull Itachi into the guest room.
Haku, still flustered, did his best to tend to the prince while Moegi helped Sakura bathe. Seated on the edge of the tub, Moegi rinsed the bubbles out of Sakura's hair. As Sakura twisted to lather up the soap in her hands, Moegi flinched. Sakura caught the motion out of the corner of her eye.
"Does it hurt, General?" the girl asked as she eyed the long scar on Sakura's back. A fleeting smile flashed across Sakura's face.
"Do you pity me?" she asked in return. Moegi hesitated for a moment.
"No, General. I don't know why you did something like that. You're a princess too. You're just as important as Prince Naruto," Moegi replied. The transparency in her response made Sakura laugh.
Sakura was still young. And a vast majority of her injuries healed quickly. But on her body was still a catalogue of scars from all the times she had broken a fall or just failed to dodge a blade. For Moegi, who had probably grown up serving nothing but sheltered noble women, the marks on Sakura's body were probably horrifying in some sense.
Letting out a long sigh, Sakura scrubbed the rest of the soap off her body before she stood. Moegi retrieved a towel and handed it to Sakura.
"I will let you in a secret, little one. Ladies still bleed blood," Sakura said with a sort of finality. When Moegi looked at her questioningly, Sakura simply smiled and held her hand out for her clothes.
By the time she emerged clean and dressed from the bathroom, Haku was busy folding and sorting the clean clothes he had brought up from the courtyard. The sheets had spent the day drying in the warm sun and they smelled fresh. Sakura stood watching Moegi and Haku work before she dismissed them for the night. It was late and they were undoubtedly tired. She stood in the doorway of the guest room, watching Itachi sleep for a while before she decided to take a seat. She had plenty of time to kill.
"You're in my apartment," Sakura said as soon as she saw Itachi's eyelashes flutter. His eyes then opened very quickly. When he tried to sit up, Itachi winced and fell back against the pillows with an expression of defeat. He turned his head to the side to find Sakura sitting in the armchair in the corner.
"You collapsed in the hallway. With this," she added, gesturing to the book she had found lying on the ground. Itachi stared at the book, his face turning a little pink.
"See? This is why we're the Bedridden Nobles' Society. Look what happens when we try to act out," Sakura pretended to scold him. Itachi smiled, despite the fact that even his ears had turned pink.
Itachi blinked a few times as he looked around the room. He had been inside these quarters before. But the yellow floral wallpaper was unfamiliar to him.
"The guest room," Sakura explained before he could ask.
Itachi then turned to look at her again. At this point, his ears were so red that Sakura began to worry they would burst into flames.
"…Did you carry me?" demanded Itachi.
Leaning back in her seat, Sakura nodded. Face in his hands, Itachi heaved a deep sigh. Though his ears were no less bright, when Itachi peered out at her between his fingers, the smile that Sakura gave him was neither condescending nor smug.
"Thank you…General," he finally said.
"Sakura," she corrected him.
"Sakura," repeated Itachi with deceptive calm. But even as he turned his head to look out the window, his ears burned bright red.
June and July in Ispolin had been mild and sunny. Though it was much cooler here than what she was used to, Sakura took in the crisp mountain air with satisfaction. It was humid down south, and though she would not admit it out loud, that stickiness was part of the reason she liked to be away from the capital during the social season.
August, however, brought sudden rains to the mountains that caught Sakura completely unawares.
One morning, during her usual outing with Kaze, water spilled from the sky with little warning. It was as if someone had split the heavens open to begin dumping buckets of cold water down. Sakura guided them into an area of the woods sheltered by some cliffs. But as the minutes passed, the rain showed no signs of letting up. Kaze nudged her shoulder. His silvery mane was a mop against his head and neck.
"Poor thing," she cooed. She pushed his mane out of his eyes.
"Let's head back. The sooner we return, the sooner we can get you dried off," Sakura sighed after some thought. Mounting her steed, she urged him forward into the downpour. Though Kaze seemed reluctant to reenter the cold, he obeyed. Soon, they were sloshing up the mountain paths. Mud sprayed each time Kaze's hooves pounded the ground. Even without looking, Sakura knew that Kaze's belly and legs would be completely brown.
By the time they ran through the gates and to the stables, Sakura was shivering from the cold. The stable boys ran halfway down the path to greet them. They led Kaze, who was dripping with thick mud, into the wooden building. Though there were insistences that Sakura get inside to dry off, she pushed them aside. She shed her jacket and rolled up her sleeves. She helped the stable boys fill a big pot with clean water and heat it over flames before dividing it into buckets. They poured the warmed water over Kaze, repeating the process over and over until his natural white coat began to peek out through the muck.
They washed him, dried his coat, and brushed him. Sakura combed Kaze's mane until it shone against his clean body. When she fed him a cube of sugar, Kaze nuzzled her cheeks and throat until Sakura pushed him away laughing. And then they had to wash his face all over again to get the muck off.
Only when Kaze was cleaned up and fed did Sakura leave the stables. She ran through the rain to the back of the palace. When she walked into the kitchens, Moegi, chopping up potatoes for lunch, bolted upright. Pushing her way past the cooks, the little redhead took Sakura by the hand and pulled her out of the noisy clanging and chopping and into a smaller hallway. Moegi then ran off, grabbing her skirts to keep herself from tripping. All the while, the girl shouted for Haku until there was a distant yell in response.
Soon, both Moegi and Haku returned armed with towels and blankets. They fussed around Sakura, wiping her hair and patting her dry. But mud had caked onto her boots and breeches. After wiping off the bottoms of Sakura's boots as best as they could, the servants bundled Sakura up in several towels. Moegi filled a laundry basket with all of the linens they had used, along with Sakura's sopping jacket and gloves. Haku stayed to help Sakura up to her room.
They walked in relative silence, save for the occasional chatter of Sakura's teeth. But as they travelled through the narrow but clean halls of the annex building and into the palace itself, Haku continued to steal glances back at her companion.
"Is something wrong, Haku?" Sakura asked between shivers.
"No, General!" Haku immediately exclaimed. His cheeks tinged pink as he realized he had been caught staring. But then his round eyes found Sakura again. He had encountered people before who hated being questioned. They saw it as a sign of disrespect. But the General seemed to like his questions. When she lifted her eyebrows at him, Haku decided to ask anyway.
"I was just wondering, General, why didn't you just leave your horse to the boys and come in quickly? The stableboys would have done their job. And you could fall ill delaying like that," Haku queried. Sakura could see him picking and choosing his words for fear of insulting her. But Sakura nodded to herself. It was a fair question.
"Kaze's been with me since I was a little girl. He's not just a horse to me," Sakura patiently explained. Haku slowed a little, falling back to walk beside her rather than lead her.
"Your mother was the Queen of the Forest Kingdom," Haku stated. His words, however, held another question.
During her month at Talast, Sakura had spent a lot of time with Moegi and Haku. And though they were indeed her servants, they felt more like younger siblings bubbling with curiosity. Moegi's mother was also a servant in the castle while her father worked in the basement of the castle feeding the furnaces that warmed water for the entire structure. And Haku, Sakura learned, was an orphan. A distant relative had introduced him to someone, who had then found him a job as a servant.
Sakura had also shared much about her own life. She spoke of her friends scattered throughout the kingdom. She spoke of Plumeria and of the staff there. Answering any questions about the weather or the food there. But one subject that Sakura rarely touched upon was her parents.
"My mother was the Queen of the Forest Kingdom. She was also the Duchess of the Southern Tea Isle," Sakura affirmed with a smile.
"And… your father was the king?" Haku tentatively went on to ask. Sakura shook her head.
"My father was the King Consort. King Jiraiya of the Forest Kingdom. And its General as well. And Duke of the Southern Tea Isle, if I want to be accurate," Sakura listed off. She then glanced over at Haku.
"Quite a mouthful of titles, isn't it?" she said. Haku nodded.
"Are you wondering what a consort is? I don't believe you have that sort of thing here," Sakura continued. Haku nodded even harder, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
"A consort is the spouse of the king or queen. It's all about succession. My father wouldn't have been next in line for the throne. Not that he would have wanted it anyway," she explained.
"Was your father noble as well, General?" pressed Haku. His eyes shone lIke the rapt audience at a particularly enrapturing play.
"My father was originally heir to a Marquess' house. He passed his lands to his younger brother when he married my mother. He said it was too much of a hassle to manage all of his titles. My uncle was overjoyed. Otherwise, he would have inherited nothing. Anyone besides the first son in a family subsists on scraps, essentially." Sakura let her words trail off as she realized how bitter she sounded. She hadn't meant for it to leak out like that. Staring straight ahead, she finished the rest of the walk in shivering quiet. And she was thankful that Haku didn't ask any more questions.
When they made it up to Sakura's apartment on the third floor of the western wing, Haku immediately went into the bathroom to draw a hot bath. He set out clean towels and a robe, as well as slippers before he gestured into the room.
Sakura stepped into the bathroom. She paused at the sink to wash her hands. Stopped.
She thought of how the boy had reacted the other night. When he had assumed that she had assassinated a prince in the palace. He didn't scream. He didn't run for a guard. His first instinct had been to pack her bags. To help her escape undetected.
"Haku," Sakura said as she stared into the mirror. In the reflection, she could see Haku pulling clean clothes out of the armoire. He froze at the sound of her voice.
"Yes, General?" he replied. He stopped what he was doing. Hands folded in front of him.
"Is there a reason why you're disguised as a girl?"
"Yes, General."
"Is it a reason you can easily tell me?"
"No, General."
There was a pause.
"It's… complicated. And I was told never to share the secret. Not even Moegi knows, General," Haku explained with clear reluctance.
Sakura studied the boy's face for a moment. His features were so delicate that it was no wonder his disguise fooled everyone else.
Putting her hand on his, Sakura smiled down at him.
"Then I will guard you secret, even if I don't know what it is. Everyone is entitled to a few secrets every now and then," she assured him.
Haku's smile was one of pure relief.
Light yellow cakes were piled high in the kitchens. The sweet smell engulfed the entire palace. One of the chefs stood at the counter, whipping something in a bowl until it sat in fluffy white peaks. As she dipped her pinky into the edge to taste the frosting, there was movement in the corner of her eye.
"Those aren't for you, My Lord!" the woman admonished as she resumed whipping. Shoulders slumping, Sasori leaned against the counter with his elbows. He stared longingly at the sweet pieces of cake. The vibrant color gave them away as passionfruit. And as he stood gazing at the food, the chef let out a long sigh and handed over one of the smaller pieces to the man.
"Wonderful as always. What's the occasion?" questioned Sasori.
The look the plump woman shot him was somewhat insulting. Leaning in towards him, she said in a loud whisper, "My Lord, have you forgotten? It's the anniversary of Lady Tsunade and Lord Jiraiya's deaths."
Sasori immediately felt like an ass. His fingers, which had been slowly inching their way over to another cake, returned to his side. Then he took a step back from the counter and took a long look around the kitchen. Indeed, the other chefs were all occupied with preparing their own sweets. The late Duchess of the Isle had liked sweets well enough, but her husband had been well known for his insatiable sweet tooth.
It seemed fitting that during their memorial day, the altar was stacked with pastries, then.
Still, sneaking one last piece of cake, Sasori slipped out of the kitchens. Feet bare, he padded down the sun-warmed walkway until he reached the throne room. Gaara sat in the large chair, his hands clasped under his chin as he stared at the commoner kneeling before him.
"So, My Lord, I would like to request, humbly, of course, that you check your records. I swear to you that I have paid my taxes," the old man insisted. Gaara mulled over this for a long moment. And then he turned toward his brother standing to his left.
"Kankuro, confirm this man's testimony. If his claims are true, bring in this tax collector to be disciplined. Lady Sakura would not have her people being cheated," Gaara ordered.
Kankuro was a few years older than Gaara. Stocky and tan, he resembled his brother very little other than the reddish tinge to his hair. Black kohl rimmed his eyes. A single strip of thin leather hung from his neck with an hourglass hanging upon it. And despite the fact that it was his younger brother giving him orders, Kankuro only nodded before he left the room to carry out his task.
"The Lord Regent will see that your issue is addressed. You may take your leave," Temari spoke up from Gaara's left.
Temari was five years Gaara's senior. With sandy hair tied back in ponytails and eyes a vivid shade of teal, she was known all around the island for her beauty. Skin bronzed from hours in the sun, she sported impressive muscles to testify to her years of training. While her youngest brother was acting lord and her other brother was training to take their father's place as the treasurer, Temari leaned toward less bureaucratic pursuits. Famed for her physical strength and fighting skills, she had spent a few years at sea, serving in the navy under her cousin Sasori before she returned home. Nowadays, she spent her time as guard and advisor to her youngest brother and that seemed to suit her just fine.
The old man bowed deeply before he hurried out of the throne room. In the lull between people, Temari shifted her weight and then sighed.
"I could use a vacation," she muttered. Gaara eyed her briefly before he sat up in the throne.
"You should take a week off. Go sailing around," Gaara suggested.
"That's completely boring unless Sasori is there. And you know he's not going anywhere right now," retorted Temari.
"Are you saying that he doesn't trust me enough to leave me on my own?" questioned Gaara with a tinge of humor.
"Don't feel bad, little brother. Our cousin doesn't trust anyone that isn't our lovely Lady," Temari assured him.
Sasori chose that moment to make his entrance. Hands tucked behind his back, he strode up to them with exaggerated swagger in his step.
"Are these whispers of slander I hear?" Sasori demanded in a mockingly stern tone.
"Whispers of you nagging, more like," Temari muttered not quite under her breath. Kankuro rejoined them, flashing a grin at Sasori as he reclaimed his place at Gaara's left.
"A letter arrived from Lady Sakura this morning," Temari announced as she held out a piece of paper. Gaara accepted it and began reading it out loud.
To my dear family at home,
I'm ashamed to admit that, for the second year in a row, I will not be able to make it home for this year's anniversary of my parents' deaths. And as regretful as I am, I am somewhat comforted to know that everything will still be handled by all of you. But please do not forget to make those passionfruit cakes. Those were my father's favorite and I'd hate to see this day go by without some being made in his memory. They are always in my hearts, as are you, and I would light a thousand candles if only distance would permit.
In other news, it has come to my attention that there has been some fighting over who is allowed to use my private rooms and gazebos. Let it be clear that as the acting regent, Lord Gaara has the final say over who is permitted to use these places. And I would also like to note that the monthly donations to the orphanage and women's shelter should not be neglected.
I miss home more and more with each passing day. As of now, I believe that I will be back in time for autumn. I send only my love until then.
Sakura
Sasori exchanged worried looks with Gaara while Temari and Kankuro crowded around to get a look at the letter. Sasori wasn't sure about Gaara, but he had received his own letter from Sakura earlier that week. And her tone had been just as positive and uninformative. In fact, the generally small amount of letters he had received from her in the past weeks was worrying. But Sasori also knew that if he barged in to check on her a second time, Sakura would thrash him halfway to hell before he could get a word in. She hated it when anyone hovered over her shoulder.
"This doesn't sound like her at all. Are you sure this is from the right person?" Kankuro complained. Temari squinted at the message.
"Well, if I were Lady Sakura and I was staying in a foreign country with people I don't trust, I wouldn't exactly go around saying whatever I wanted," Temari pointed out to them.
"The letter was sealed. And what would anyone get out of her letters? She never writes anything scandalous," countered Sasori. But Gaara shook his head.
"The point isn't that there would be anything scandalous to find. The point is that someone is looking. Letters can be resealed with a little bit of heat," Gaara said. Bristling at the thought, Sasori clenched his hands into fists.
"What do we do then? How can we help her?" wondered Temari. Teeth grinding together, Sasori turned on his heel.
"Nothing. You do nothing. I've got some letters to write," Sasori uttered in a low voice before he stormed out of the throne room. His cousins stood watching his retreating form with concern.
"Did you know," Sakura said as soon as she entered the library. Itachi sat at one of the tables, wrapped up in a thick robe. He offered a smile at her entrance but said nothing.
"Did you know that roses don't have thorns? They're called prickles," she announced as she sat down across from him. Placing her latest book on the table, she slid it over to him. Itachi raised his eyebrows as he leafed through the thick pages.
"That seems a touch ironic for you to discover considering that your family's sigil is a rose," he remarked after a moment. Shutting the book, he met her eyes with another smile. His attempt to tease her was endearing.
"Well, it seems ironic that a man with weak lungs to have a fan for his family's sigil," she rebutted. A look of surprise crossed Itachi's face, and for a moment, Sakura wondered if she had crossed a line. But then Itachi's expression returned to normal and he began to chuckle.
"I'm guessing that you're unaccustomed to being poked fun at," Sakura said. Propping her chin up in her hand, she raised her eyebrows at him.
"Observant," he answered.
"Do you feel well now?" she queried. Itachi's hand rose to touch his throat for a moment.
"…The attacks have become less frequent but my physician believes that it has to to do with an anxious disposition. He believes that if I stress myself, they occur more frequently," he admitted.
"Stressing yourself? Such as carrying a book across the castle to my room or sitting through an awkward family dinner?" quipped Sakura. They both laughed at that. Leaning back in her chair, Sakura tucked her bangs behind her ear.
"Then, I have a question for you, General," said Itachi in such crisp and measured words that Sakura couldn't help but suddenly be a little wary. Still, she folded her arms over her chest and nodded.
"I've been doing some research on your family. And according to the histories, it was your mother's mother and then your mother that succeeded the throne before you," he began. He indicated the book he had been holding in his own hands. Sakura didn't say anything but kept her eyes fixed on him.
"And so naturally, it should be that you were crowned on your 16th birthday and ascend the throne just as they did. And yet…" Itachi trailed off but the implication was clear. Sighing, she motioned for the book and he slid it across the table to her. With brusque motions, she flipped to the back index of the tome where there were pages upon pages of complex family trees. She searched until she found the simplest one recording only the most recent generations of the Haruno family.
"This," she said, pointing to her father's brother, "Is the main reason why I haven't ascended the throne."
"The Regent? Isn't he supposed to be a simple placeholder?" asked Itachi.
"That, my dear Prince, is complicated. You may be better versed in the theory and terminology of politics. But I simply know that once you put a man on the throne, it is very difficult to get him off," declared Sakura. Rather than being deterred by her bitter tone, Itachi seemed curious. Eyes bright, he leaned in toward her.
"What do you really want the throne for? Is it your birthright? Or something like pride?" he inquired.
Slowly shutting the book in front of her, Sakura closed her eyes. Her lips pulled up into an empty smile. When she tilted her head to look at Itachi, she let out a short huff of laughter.
"What a silly question," she answered. His forehead wrinkled.
"It's both, Prince. It will always be both," she clarified after a long moment.