Puits d'Amour

by A Hidden Path

A royalty/bakery AU starring Yamato as a crown prince and Sora as a café owner. When Yamato is sent from one country to another to begin his training as crown prince, he is displaced and lonely. He enters a café for pastries from his home country and meets Sora, who exudes comfort and welcome. Yamato x Sora, includes all of the Chosen. Cover art by llamavillana.

1. Princes of Amity, Pt 1

Puits d'Amour

Princes of Amity, Pt 1

Yamato sat on the grass, surveying the coast far below and the green fields descending towards it. His wolfhound, Roncier, rested his head on his outstretched arms, content after their extended ramble.

From this height, Yamato could map their walking path from his family's castle down sloping hills, some neat and cultivated, others overgrown and bright with wildflowers. Familiar trails lined the landscape, often protected by short stone walls. The sea rolled in the distance, waves sighing as they rushed the shore.

He sipped from his travel cup, a metal vessel in a leather case with a carry strap. What little remained of his coffee was stone cold after his morning walk, but he appreciated the caffeine. Besides, it gave him an excuse to linger, and he was loathe to return to his family's clifftop estate. He felt for the harmonica in his pocket, a comforting bit of cool metal, but couldn't bring himself to play it.

Sighing, he stroked Roncier's coarse fur. The wolfhound lifted his head and regarded him with deep brown eyes. The excess of gray hair about his face granted Roncier the wise, steady air of an elderly gentleman.

"We'll have walks in Hakone." Though he spoke to Roncier, Yamato was reassuring himself. The royal palace that would soon be his home was located in Nagano, Hakone's capital city, a crowded, metropolitan area in a faraway country. The palace was surrounded by sizable grounds, including gardens, parks, and building complexes from various eras. It wasn't as if he'd need to roam the city streets for a walk.

But no city park could compare to the Côtes-d'Armor, Autun's coastal countryside, where dawn blushed against the sea as the gray morning mists burned away.

Roncier twitched when Yamato's stomach grumbled. Although he brought a hunk of baguette for himself and dried meat for Roncier, nearly three hours of wandering had expended their fortifying effect. Still, Yamato remained seated, staring at the green hills that would soon be so far away. In late summer, the wildflowers rioted, dotting the coast with color. Their sweet scent wafted, far stronger than the smell of salty spray from up here.

The nearest town, a well-preserved village built three to four hundred years ago, lined a river in the distance that fed the sea. Some days, Yamato ventured there on foot or by car. The locals were accustomed to him and his brother, and treated them almost like any other member of their community- if a bit more accommodating and polite. Yamato valued that more than he could articulate.

The town's streetlights glistened against the water when Yamato's walk began in the small hours. But it was nearly eight now, and they blinked out as the sun rose, slow and steady, from the sea.

The summer day was warming, and there was movement among the hills, people going about their business, ambling specks in the distance. Sighing, Yamato rose and turned to his family's estate. The collection of buildings was above him, nestled into the hillside, surrounded by trees. Though he was fond of the place, his tone was heavy as he said, "Come along, Roncier. Let's go home."

The dog rose, tail wagging. Home meant breakfast, a generous serving of meat in broth for one beloved and blessed wolfhound. Roncier fell into stride beside him as he approached the castle and estate purchased and renovated for his mother, once the second-born princess of Autun, following her marriage to Yamato's father, the king of Hakone.

It was strange and distressing, the sensation of returning to a place that would soon be a memory, a home that would soon cease to be home.

XXX

Yamato and Roncier passed through the estate gardens, an expertly planned and maintained collection of floral delights dotted with ponds, fountains, and sculptures. The flowers were laid out around walking paths formed by pebbles, planted to guide amblers through turns that showcased the finest views. With knowledge unfamiliar to Yamato, the gardeners utilized plant height to display multiple depths and colors with each flower bed. Tragically, he barely regarded the blooms as he followed the sound of voices and laughter through the garden. Where there was good cheer, his brother was sure to be, certainly enjoying it, likely causing it.

Sure enough, Takeru lounged on a large blanket in an open part of the garden, surrounded by gorgeous platters stocked with breakfast offerings. Maids in simple black dresses and white aprons sat at ease with him, laughing, chatting, and offering Takeru more of everything. Their pleasant voices uttered such phrases as, "Your Highness, would you like another pastry? Coffee? More tea?"

Laughing, Takeru pressed a hand to his stomach. "I've had more than enough! And I can fix my own tea, thank-"

A small scuffle broke out as the girls lunged for the teapot and service tray. "Oh dear," Takeru said, although his grin suggested that he knew this would happen. It always did- princes rarely poured their own tea, even if they wanted to.

The girls prepared his tea, playfully arguing over how he preferred it. "Never mind me," Takeru said, all smiles and bright eyes. "Have you ladies had enough to eat?"

After some dignified dithering, the girls accepted Takeru's offer of pastries, breads, and jams meant for royalty. Yamato paused, appreciating the cozy, comfortable sight, pleased by his brother's generosity and consideration. He would have quietly passed them by, but Roncier approached, fond of people and likely hoping for handouts.

"Roncier!" Takeru cried, all delight.

The change was instantaneous. The maids jerked in the direction Takeru faced and froze when they saw him. Yamato forced a grin and waved, but the girls shot to their feet, most of them awkwardly trying to place cups and pastries out of his line of sight.

"Please, don't mind me," Yamato began.

"Good morning, Your Highness," one of the older maids ventured. "We'll get out of your way. Please, enjoy your breakfast. Shall we feed Roncier in the kitchen?"

"There's no need to-" Before Yamato could finish his sentence, the girls retreated, with Roncier happily trotting beside them, drawn by their repetition of, "Eat," the word he was trained to associate with feeding time.

Yamato approached Takeru's blanket and swallowed a sigh. "I didn't want them to leave..."

Takeru offered a commiserating grin. "Skiving off with the second prince is one thing. With the crown prince? That's another."

Yamato took a seat on the blanket. "I won't scold them. If you're enjoying their company, then they're doing a good job, as far as I'm concerned."

"We know that," Takeru replied. "But if you wanted them out of this house, they'd be gone in a second."

"I'm not unreasonable!" The frustration in his voice made the corner of Takeru's mouth edge upward. Yamato tsked, then closed his eyes and tried to picture the countryside as it looked a few minutes ago, down to the lighting and the color of the wildflowers.

Gradually, he calmed. When he opened his eyes, Takeru pushed a platter of pastries towards him. "Saved you these. Coffee, too."

"Thanks," Yamato grunted. Despite his unimpressed tone, his heart lightened. He was starving, and to him, hot coffee was ambrosia. Even better, there was no one here to trip over themselves in their haste to pour it. Yamato reached for the cup Takeru offered him, a glazed blue mug- extra large, in deference to his love of coffee. A press filled with dark liquid waited to the side.

Yamato busied his hands with the coffee and accouterments as he watched Takeru nibble a fruit-filled pastry with his periphery. As usual, his brother took infuriatingly small, interspersed bites, a necessity for someone who spoke often, but knew that talking while chewing was not an option for a prince.

Although his attention was on his food, Takeru said, "What are you looking at?"

Yamato snorted, nearly sloshing cream over the side of his mug. "My annoying kid brother."

"Ha! Fair." Takeru grinned, all good humor, golden hair, glittering sky blue eyes, and dimples. These were courtesy of their mother, but the playful attitude was all his own. The lad was thin, still not entirely filled in at age twenty-three, with hair as scruffy as a prince was permitted to have, much to the delight of young ladies and the despair of everyone else.

"Coffee?" Yamato asked, hoping to get more calories in his brother via the cream.

"I have tea," Takeru replied. Yamato pushed the cream towards him, but Takeru ignored it.

Silence hovered over the blanket, and slowly, Yamato became cognizant of the natural sounds around him: birdsong, the shuffling of small critters, the soft hum of bees working among the flowers. Normally, Yamato relished quiet and the sounds of nature, but the shift in mood from convivial to strained was too stark for comfort... Especially when he knew he had caused it.

He fortified himself with a draft of rich coffee, savoring scent and taste. Then he murmured, "Maybe it would be better if you were the crown prince. You like people, care about them. And they like you in turn."

Yamato was wincing before he finished speaking. He was the first-born son of Ishida Hiroaki and Anne, affectionately known as Nancy to family and close friends. Naturally, he was the first choice for heir apparent, but his family allowed younger siblings to rule if everyone was in agreement. Even now, since Yamato had yet to officially receive the post of crown prince, Takeru could be promoted over him.

In so many ways, Yamato would prefer to be the second-born. The political world was treacherous, a dance of hidden meanings and agendas skulking beneath courtly manners. He was loathe to enter it- but even more so to send Takeru, especially in his stead. As Takeru pointed out, there were a million differences between being a prince and the crown prince, right down to the way servants reacted when you entered a room while they were relaxing.

If Yamato could win freedom for Takeru, he would. But that didn't mean he was enthusiastic to be king someday- or confident that he would rule well.

Takeru's smile faded, and suddenly, he looked older, almost like someone else entirely. His light blue eyes held Yamato's darker ones. "I don't think that's true."

Yamato stared, waiting for more. Takeru drained his teacup before continuing, "I do seem to get on well with people. I hide my emotions better, too." Yamato grimaced, realized he was showing his feelings, then struggled to manufacture a neutral expression. Takeru's snort suggested that his attempt was lacking.

"But you're great in a crisis, better at handling difficult situations. And you're so intelligent and disciplined. You pick up everything from instructors like it's nothing."

Although he was deeply pleased with the praise, especially from someone much more inclined to tease, Yamato replied, "You're just as smart."

Takeru flashed a grin and shrugged. "At subjects I like, sure. Can't be bothered with the rest."

Yamato raised his eyebrows in acknowledgment. If he applied himself, Yamato was convinced that Takeru could learn anything. But his brother was selective about where his efforts went- a perk secured for him by his status as second-born.

"I'm better with people and social undertones-"

Yamato snorted. "Which benefits a king-"

"But that just gives me opportunities to help you. I've told you, Onii-chan, we're a team. I'll go to important meetings with you and tell you what I think. I'll give you whatever advice I can, whenever you want. I'll write your speeches and tell you what makes the nobles and Parliament members tick. And I'll go to Hakone with you, if you just say the word."

"Takeru..." Yamato swallowed hard. He focused on the pastries Takeru set aside for him. In general, Yamato preferred quiches and plain croissants to sweeter offerings, although he was not without weakness for certain childhood favorites. He selected a croissant and ate a section as he mulled over his response.

"We both prefer Autun to Hakone."

Takeru's brow furrowed with thinking lines as he crossed his arms. "I don't understand why we were made to spend so much time here, knowing we'd live and rule in Hakone as adults. Why make us love Autun, only to send us away?"

Yamato focused on the buttery flavor, on the texture of delicately layered pastry that melted in the heat of his mouth. "To serve as symbols of amity between Hakone and Autun," he droned, quoting the statements from news articles released when they were relocated. He still recalled them nearly word for word, having scoured them as a boy, desperate to know why his parents sent him and Takeru away. "So we won't forget our mother's country while ruling our father's. So we'll belong to both. And if we love Autun, we won't wage war on her, like our grandparents did."

He failed to bring up that that both sets of grandparents were lost to war and political unrest before he was born. Everything he said was factual, but he was avoiding the most difficult and significant reason the princes of Hakone spent the last sixteen years living in Autun. A truth born of war and distrust, which separated two boys from their parents for most of their youth.

With a petulant air, Takeru replied, "I know that. But this is home."

"So you should stay here as long as you can," Yamato countered.

Takeru's irritation faded, failed, giving way to a quivering lower lip. He had always cried easily, and was, in Yamato's opinion, stronger for it. "But- You're home, too. We're a team. We've always been together, you and me. And Roncier."

Yamato took another bite, more to clear his throat than satisfy his stomach. He was touched, but the quaver in Takeru's voice was more than sufficient to choke him up, too. "Yes," he grunted. "But our parents allow us to live here, without political obligations, until our graduate schooling is complete. Don't waste a day of that, Takeru. Not for anyone."

Takeru quickly looked away. The shimmer of liquid in his eyes hinted that he was more upset than angry. "I know. But I don't… want to be alone."

Though he needed to stay calm, Yamato's eyes blurred along with his brother's. The princes were rarely physically alone, not in a house filled with servants and visitors of noble blood or wealth. But the people who called them by name, not by title, were few and precious.

Though it cost him dearly, Yamato summoned a stern, gruff tone. "Finish your semester, at least."

"It hasn't even started!" Takeru protested.

"It will shortly after I leave," Yamato pointed out, aware that his reasonableness was all the more obnoxious when juxtaposed against his brother's outburst. "Have fun at school. Read books, shout at people over literature, write poems about… summer falling to autumn, or whatever is it you do."

Takeru's watery smile seemed to attract the tears forming in his eyes, making them spill free. "I do enjoy that," he admitted. Yamato's heart compressed as the delicate skin around Takeru's eyelids turned pink.

"I'm sorry," Yamato muttered, fixing his gaze on a platter of pastries. "I'd much rather be with you. But knowing that you're happy is all that makes this bearable."

At last, Takeru ceded to his tears and wiped them with a linen napkin. "You'll call, right? And write."

"I'll call," Yamato promised. International calls were incredibly expensive, so writing was more practical, but what was the point of being a prince without some perks?

"And write," Takeru repeated, golden brows furrowing. Yamato sighed.

"You know you're better at keeping on top of letters than I am." Truthfully, although he often felt awkward when starting to write, once he got into the rhythm of translating thoughts to words and hand motions, his letters ran just as long as Takeru's. Furthermore, phone calls had to be arranged, and could not be repeated once disconnected. A letter could be perused any time, whenever a heart ached to connect to the writer. In truth, letters were precious things.

But because he had an image to maintain, Yamato grumbled, "Fine."

Sensing that he was gaining ground at last, Takeru brightened. "Can I have Roncier while you're gone?"

"No!" The horrified objection slipped out before Yamato had fully processed the question. Takeru's despondent expression was marred by his snort of laughter.

"But I'll be alone," Takeru wheedled. "You have Jyou-san. I want Roncier!"

He knew his brother was being a pain in the ass for the fun of it, one of his chief occupations. Still, Yamato's shoulders snapped up. "He's my dog! Just say the word if you want your own!"

Takeru shook his shaggy head. "Roncier is the best! Who wants some other dog?!"

Through sheer force of will, Yamato forced himself to acknowledge that his brother was just having fun with him. "You just don't want to train one."

Takeru shrugged. "I wouldn't have to. You're the one who chose to do it yourself instead of leaving him with a trainer as a puppy."

Instantly, the calm he established shattered, and Yamato struggled to respond through grit teeth. "Because he's my dog." Training Roncier wasn't terribly difficult, as he was intelligent, loyal, and eager to please. Mostly, it required dedication and discipline. But any time spent with his wolfhound, a creature who adored him and had no sense of what a prince (or even a king) was, was treasured. Yamato slunk away with Roncier for far more training sessions than he needed, roaming the countryside with his wolfhound at his side and a harmonica in his pocket.

"Fine," Takeru ceded at last, lifting his hand in a dramatic gesture of defeat. "I guess I'll be alone, then."

Although he was joking, Yamato still felt a twinge of guilt. "You'll be surrounded by girls, as always, and screaming at literature club."

The corner of Takeru's exaggerated pout twitched up. "True. But I'll miss you. I'll come to Nagano for Yuletide."

"The parties are far better here." Yuletide was the chief holiday in Autun, but was barely acknowledged in Hakone. Some of Yamato's fondest memories came from that season, when his mother was sometimes freed from her duties of state in Hakone to celebrate with her family in Autun: her oldest sister and the Queen of Autun, her younger siblings, and especiallyher sons.

"True," Takeru admitted. "But if we ask, they'll deck the palace halls."

Yamato pictured the stately palace in the capital city of Nagano decorated for a foreign holiday and grinned. "Ah- That would look better here, too."

Takeru waved a hand impatiently. "I don't care about that! You, Mom, and I can make pastries together in any kitchen."

This time, Yamato conceded with a nod. "We'll make plans in a month or two."

"Pfft! You'll see me when you see me- and you won't see me coming!"

Yamato chugged some coffee, but it failed to ease the twanging in his head. Exhausted, he sighed, "Takeru, please."

Takeru's grin faded. "Have you eaten enough? Here. I asked the pâtissierto make these." He handed Yamato a plate that was pushed aside, out of his line of sight. A single squat, cylindrical pastry occupied it, drizzled with caramel, and Yamato's mouth watered. Generally, he avoided sweets. But the puits d'amour, a laborious pastry his mother made with them on special occasions in their childhood, was an exception.

"Thank you," Yamato said, with feeling. Takeru grinned as he passed the plate off.

"I figure they won't be easy to come by in Nagano." Yamato nodded. He enjoyed Hakone cuisine as much as Autun fare, if not more so. But some delicacies could not be had in either place, especially without his mother's recipes.

Yamato picked up a fork and opened the pastry. Raspberry compote oozed out, Yamato's preference over the vanilla cream variation, owing to the tartness. He savored the sweet, tangy, fluffy pastry as Takeru monologued about his upcoming semester at the country's leading university in Lyon, Autun's capital city.

Soon, he'd board a boat to Hakone. But today, he ate his favorite pastry, gazing out on the coastal countryside of Autun while his brother's voice filled his ears.

XXX

Yamato entered the estate's castle and asked a servant to send Roncier over. Although renovations on the castle began just before his parents' marriage, the architecture and decor were designed to match its original age and the style of the surrounding estates, some of which were hundreds of years old. Thus, the walls facing the exterior were made of stone, with dramatic wooden beams in the ceiling. The flooring was mostly tile, lavished with fine rugs. Floor-to-ceiling rectangular windows in wooden frames showcased incredible views of the countryside, ending, as all things do, in the sea.

The approach of footsteps drew his gaze to a hallway off the foyer, and Yamato turned, expecting a servant with Roncier. Instead, Kido Jyou hurried in, somehow looking both disheveled and impeccably put together. Yamato noticed the notebook in his hand and the pen poking out of his blazer's breast pocket and fought against grimacing. "Everything's fine, Jyou," he began, knowing the words would fail to preserve him.

Jyou paused just long enough to cock a disbelieving eyebrow at him. Then, he began a monotone monologue about travel itineraries, packing lists, and god knew what else. Surely not Yamato, who wasn't listening.

As usual, Jyou was neatly dressed, despite the early hour and the relaxed air of the countryside. He wore a bespoke blazer made to his measurements, a creaseless button down shirt, and tailored pants held in place by suspenders. His notebook was a luxury brand encased in a removable leather cover engraved with his name.

Jyou was a year senior to Yamato at twenty-seven, tall, wide in the shoulders, and slim in the hips. His black hair was cut in a professional, neat style. He had a long, thin face and dark eyes that often alternated between kindly and stressed behind thick glasses.

Roncier appeared from another foyer opening, and Yamato knelt to pet him as Jyou droned on. When he began listing the nobles who would be aboard their ship to Hakone, Yamato decided that enough was enough.

"Jyou," he snapped, cutting his friend off mid-sentence. "Are you sure you want to go?"

Jyou was so stunned that he actually stopped talking, which would have been a victory under different circumstances. "Yamato, what- What are you talking about?"

Yamato stared into Roncier's calm eyes, wishing for a portion of his peace. "I won't drag you to Hakone if you'd rather stay here."

"Your Highness," Jyou hissed. Yamato shuddered, would have bristled like a cat if he could have. He glowered up at Jyou, who was checking the empty foyer.

"No one's going to report me to my parents for complaining." Yamato stood with a hand braced on Roncier's back.

There was a dull fwap as Jyou slammed his notebook shut. "Shall we discuss this in your private quarters, Your Highness?"

Yamato nodded, but kept his impressive scowl on display. The use of his title by a friend made his skin crawl. Phrasing suggestions as polite questions, as if being direct with a prince was too bold, was also off-putting. Still, he knew Jyou would speak to him normally in private. And, more importantly, he knew Jyou had a point.

Wise rulers, future and current, did their bitching behind closed doors.

The group moved to Yamato's private rooms on the second story, a suite facing the sea. Each prince had their own bedroom, bathroom, dressing area, sitting room, and study. Even by royal standards, this seemed unnecessary to Yamato. Takeru spent most of his time at the estate in either Yamato's quarters, the library, or rambling about the place, charming or bothering whomever he pleased. They easily could have shared one suite with two bedrooms. Although he was unlikely to admit it, Yamato preferred having Takeru, Jyou, and Roncier in his immediate vicinity.

There were benefits to Takeru having his own space, however. Yamato was less likely to knock over a pile of books, step on an important paper that was, for reasons best known to his brother, on the floor, or upset an inkwell this way.

Yamato sat on the tufted sofa facing the stone fireplace. His sitting room was masculine, with simple furnishings that allowed the features of the room and the views through the windows to shine. Roncier sat on the plush dog bed near his feet. To his relief, Jyou sat beside him, a return to normalcy.

"I know there aren't many people you can complain to," Jyou began. "I'll always listen- in private."

Yamato nodded, accepting the scold, mostly because he was grateful to have someone who would scold him. "Thank you. I know you're right, but…"

Sighing, Jyou directed his gaze through the windows. The sea lapped against the shore far below, with the forest between the cliff and ocean filling the space between. "I understand," he said. "We've been happy here."

"You can stay," Yamato said quietly. "If you want."

There was a long pause, but Yamato couldn't bring himself to look away from Roncier. He focused on the sound of the dog's panting and the muted crackle of the fire, left to die as the morning warmed. "I don't follow," Jyou said at last. "My job is to help you. Frankly, you need me."

"Your job isn't to babysit a prince." Regrettably, Yamato didn't realize how sour his tone was until he finished speaking.

Staring him directly in the eyes, Jyou interwove his hands and leaned forward. It was such a perfect picture of paternal disapproval that Yamato was hard pressed to suppress a grin.

"You're pouting, Your Highness."

Any desire to smile evaporated. "Yamato," he snapped. "My whole life is about to be upended because of my title. Use my damned name."

Jyou's mouth slacked open as his brows pressed against his eyes. In a tone of concerned bafflement- the Jyou special- he observed, "You're truly upset."

Yamato released a ragged breath and flopped against the sofa. "I always knew I'd have to permanently move to Hakone someday. And it isn't as if I'm taking up political duties yet. It's just training for the crown. And yet..."

He tried not to look, but the view beyond the windows beckoned. Yamato stared at the place he considered home and breathed, "I'll never have this life again."

"It was wonderful," Jyou said. A glance indicated that he, too, was staring at the coast.

Yamato couldn't bear to respond. He met Jyou in this very building when they were lads of roughly seven and eight, before the princes permanently relocated here when Yamato was ten. Jyou was the third son of the Kidos, a noble Hakone family who owned and ran a distinguished hospital and medical school in Nagano for generations. Jyou was introduced to Yamato as a suitable companion, given his family's nobility and wealth. When they clicked- something of a rarity for Yamato- the friendship was encouraged by both families.

"I wish I were a noble son," Yamato murmured, admitting an old desire out loud for the first time.

"Er-" Jyou stared, eyes screwed up in confusion, before clarity hit. "Ah- Not a royal son, you mean."

Yamato didn't bother confirming. "If I weren't a prince, we could travel the world. Takeru, too. Find what we want to do for ourselves, and do that."

Jyou released a wry laugh. "Travel, yes. But finding your own path? Rare for a noble. There's too much tradition behind the bloodline, and family resources come at a price."

Yamato tipped his head, not quite following. "I thought you enjoyed medical coordination."

"I do," Jyou agreed. "And I'm fortunate for that. You know my oldest brother will inherit the hospital, and the second will inherit the medical school. My parents didn't know what to do with me when I was small."

Yamato lifted an eyebrow. "Is medical coordinator not impressive enough?"

"Compared to chief of medicine?" Jyou countered, cocking an eyebrow right back. Yamato winced, allowing the point. "That's why they introduced me to you. The future king's private doctor... Now there's a title fit for a Kido, even if it isn't accurate."

"Close enough," Yamato shrugged. Jyou grew up devouring the latest medical publications, listening to his father and older brothers, and attending seminars and lessons at the medical school. He was robustly educated on the human body and its various failings.

Unfortunately, he fainted when he saw blood, and none of the many attempted intervention methods helped. Jyou was fit to advise Yamato on diet, exercise, internal medical needs, and recovery, but he couldn't tend to injuries, assist with the birth of royal children, or participate in surgeries.

Jyou's soft smile was strained. "I'm lucky. Impossibly so. Because you took me in as your assistant, medical adviser, and medical coordinator, I have the prestige my family demands, and my own income, independent of them. But that doesn't happen for every spare noble child- and it makes me reliant on you, instead of them."

Yamato snorted. "You said yourself that I need you. We both know you're right." Which was true; Jyou coordinated his schedule and kept him abreast of important information about politics and key figures in Autun and Hakone.

But far more pressingly, and less likely to be said, Jyou was family. Yamato rarely saw his parents, who fulfilled political and state duties in Hakone, his father's country. In a world where everyone feared or desired the power and wealth he would some day inherit, Takeru and Jyou were his only absolute allies.

"Then why the talk of sending me away?" Jyou asked. Yamato studied him, and Jyou stared back, his gaze resolute, but not challenging. Was Jyou curious, or genuinely upset? Jyou was typically easy to read, a straightforward sort. But when he was calm enough to provide a mixed, complex reaction, things got more muddled.

Yamato hesitated, suddenly unsure. He wanted his friend to be happy- but what if he actually did convince him to seek his own path, independent of him? "Sometimes, I'm not sure that you understand the value of your medical coordination work."

Jyou's background provided him with extensive medical connections and education, while his role as Yamato's personal assistant granted the Kidos access to Autun's medical world. Jyou's organizational and analytical skills, attention to detail, and ability to foresee the needs of both individuals and organizations, paired with genuine kindness and desire to help, placed him in an unprecedented position. Jyou took it upon himself to meet with local hospitals, health care officials, and nobles in both Hakone and Autun, sharing news and advising personnel on how to best run their facilities. He also reported back to Yamato, who was rarely able to leave Autun since relocating there, about the going-ons in Hakone.

Yamato knew that Jyou saw himself as his valet or personal assistant. But when Yamato looked at Jyou, he saw a young man who was already utilizing his unique background and skills to influence and improve medical care in two countries via his connection to the prince with networks in both places. Furthermore, Yamato already relied on Jyou for honest advice. One day, Jyou would influence Hakone through Yamato's respect and trust for him. It was a privileged position- but also a difficult one.

"You could make a career as a medical adviser for hospitals and practices in Hakone and Autun," Yamato pointed out. "You already have the connections and groundwork in place to support yourself. And if you need money to get started, I'm sure I could convince my parents that funding you would be worthwhile."

Jyou clasped Yamato's knee. When Yamato looked at him at last, he saw that familiar, raw concern in his eyes. "Yamato... Why are you saying all this?"

How could Yamato respond? It wasn't that he didn't want to share his feelings with Jyou. He just… wasn't sure how. Frustration rose, another sour note in a horrible symphony of emotions. He gave up trying to explain how he felt, an impossible feat, and focused on the immediate situation. "So far, being royal and noble has been fun. Lots of classes, tutors, and events, yes. But then, there's..."

He lifted a hand, indicating the beautiful room and the lovelier view through the glass. The princes worked hard on their lessons and had many social obligations to fulfill, but their parents encouraged them to enjoy themselves and develop their identities while they were young, before taking on the full duties their bloodline entailed.

"But now... Now it will be politics and duty. I don't want to drag you into it."

Jyou's hold on his knee tightened, then went slack. "Is that all?" Jyou sighed. "Stop your dramatics, Yamato. I grew up with you; I know what I'm getting into. I'm exactly where I want to be, and if I weren't, I would say so."

"Is that so?" Though his tone was dour, Yamato smiled. Functionally, he and Jyou were brothers, growing up in the same homes, sharing whatever lessons applied to them both. But, unlike Takeru, the younger sibling that Yamato doted on and protected, Jyou was a peer. He couldn't navigate the treacherous world of political intrigue without Jyou in his corner.

"Stop," Jyou replied. "I know you're all bark and no bite."

Yamato was relieved enough to let that remark slide. He opted to change the subject. "Does it bother you? Splitting your time between two countries."

"Hmm..." Jyou's gaze averted as he stroked his chin. "I lived in Nagano before we were introduced. I suppose I think of Nagano as home... But now, thanks to you, I have friends and colleagues in both places, and I enjoy them both. I don't mind relocating to Hakone."

Yamato absently rubbed Roncier's head as he gazed through the windows. "But you've always preferred it here," Jyou continued.

"I'll never rule here," Yamato replied. "My mother's older sister is Queen of Autun, and she has children. Everyone employed in this estate is wary of displeasing the princes, but the townspeople see us as any other noble, more or less. In Hakone, I always feel like people want something from me, or are maneuvering around me, hoping to curry favor."

"If only they knew that leaving you alone would work far better."

Yamato grinned, even as his insides twisted. What he really wanted was more people who saw him as Yamato, not the crown prince.

"Maybe the people of Nagano will get used to you as you spend more time there?" Jyou suggested. "Like they did here."

"Maybe..." But Yamato doubted it. The princes had their mother's Autun features, which made them attention-grabbing in Hakone. That seemed enough to other them, even without the title of prince.

"Maybe you'll meet new people," Jyou bravely ventured.

"New nobles," Yamato drawled. "Magically materializing from the ether." It felt like there were millions of nobles, but in reality, they were a tiny fraction of Hakone's populace. And believe you me, I've plastered on fake smiles to meet every god damned one of them.

"I'm trying to help you, Yamato."

Though Jyou's tone was exasperated, he smiled. Comforted, and grateful for it, Yamato replied, "You already did. You mentioned having things to go over with me?"

Jyou blinked, a brief pause before his expression crumpled, aghast. "Were you not listening in the foyer?!" Yamato smiled, with precisely zero remorse.

"I can't believe you!" Jyou produced his notebook from an interior blazer pocket and opened it with an ominous crack of leather. "Have you even started packing?!"

"Don't know. What have you decided I'm bringing?"

"Unbelievable!" Jyou cried, even as he flipped to the packing list he had written for Yamato. This time, Yamato listened, and was thankfully permitted to offer input without push back.

Yamato wasn't interested in returning to Hakone, or in being anything but himself. But this was his reality, and at the very least, he had Jyou's support and the ability to ease the burden on Takeru.

He ignored the tension skulking in the recesses of his mind, that tiny voice that whispered, Will that be enough?

Author's Notes:

Glossary

Autun: Fictional country loosely based on France. Yamato and Takeru have lived here without their parents since they were ten and seven, respectively.

Côtes d'Armor: Fictional coastal countryside region in west Autun where the princes live (while not at Lyon University).

Lyon: Autun's capital city, home of the country's most prestigious university (Lyon University), where the princes attend.

Hakone: Fictional country loosely based on Japan. Yamato and Takeru were born here. Yamato is the crown prince of Hakone, and will someday be her king.

Nagano: Capital city of Hakone, location of the palace, Café du Ciel, Nagano University, and the Kido medical school and hospital.

Café du Ciel: Sora's café in Nagano

Ishida Hiroaki: King of Hakone

Ishida Anne, diminutive "Nancy": Queen of Hakone through marriage, previously the second-born princess of Autun

Ishida Yamato: crown prince of Hakone

Ishida Takeru: second-born prince of Hakone

Roncier: Yamato's wolfhound (his name means "Bramble," he is a Good Boy and an Irish wolfhound, or rather, an "Innisfree wolfhound")

Innisfree: Fictional country loosely based on Ireland

New Hope: Fictional country loosely based on the United States

Notes about this story

-This story is loosely set in the 1930s, but I'm not stressing over it. I'm especially not worrying about having characters speak like they might have in various countries at that time. The characters will wear a mix of traditional Japanese and Western garb.

-The resemblance to real countries is also loose. For example, Japan has an emperor, Hakone has a king. The method of ruling/power distribution in Hakone is also unique and fictional, as we will see in later chapters.

-Because this is an AU, there will be some characterization changes caused by changes in character circumstances/backgrounds compared to canon.

-The cover art was done by LlamaVillana on Tumblr, thank you so very much!

-The story is also available on AO3, where I am also ahiddenpath. The AO3 version features stock images and my art, so please check it out!

-This story started as a simple, indulgent bakery/royalty AU, but grew an entire life and will of its own while I wasn't minding it. Oops? It developed into something ambitious, and I'm so pleased to share it with you! It's been an enormous labor of love, so please do leave a comment if you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading!