Puits d'Amour
Duty, Pt 1
Yamato dithered outside his parents' parlor in Nagano Palace. Even for a prince, it wasn't wise to keep a king and queen waiting. And yet…
It could be worse. What if they summoned me to the throne room? Yamato managed a wry grin. His parents set this meeting in their living space, meaning that it was not formal. This was merely a talk between estranged family members, held in a luxurious suite in a palace. Absolutely normal. Banal, even.
Nagano Palace was opulent, especially in comparison to the family estate in Autun. That was built to his mother's tastes, and while it boasted luxuries beyond the grasp of all but the wealthy, it was comparable to other family homes among Autun's nobility. The palace and its grounds, in contrast, were said to be worth more than the rest of Nagano's real estate combined. It boasted rooms that could fit entire two-story apartment complexes. There was also a second palace, about five centuries old, which housed staff members, museums, archives, and a variety of public spaces.
Yamato allowed himself the double kindness of chuckling and ignoring the strained nerves beneath it. Before he could overthink things further, he corrected his posture and entered the parlor.
His parents looked up at the sound of his approach. Yamato tried to ignore the awkwardness of being watched as he traversed the cavernous room, where each footstep echoed. His parents could do little about the ostentatiousness of the inherited palace, a place of tradition meant to evoke awe, but their tastes seemed to be sophisticated and subtle. Their decor and furnishings allowed the quality of the architecture and the view into a gorgeous, private garden though a glass wall to shine. The walls and floor were in soothing wooden tones, and the brush art of trees and simple landscapes completed the calming vibe.
The king and queen sat on separate low-to-the-ground sofas, reading what was likely reports. At last, Yamato was close enough to bow, first to his father, the ruler carrying the Hakone royal bloodline, then to his mother.
His father, Ishida Hiroaki, placed his report aside and smiled. Hiroaki was a hale man in his early forties, fit and generally regarded as handsome. He had brown hair, a masculine face with a firm, defined jaw, and brown eyes that were often serious and difficult to read. Now, though, they softened and warmed with his smile, and Yamato found himself smiling in turn.
"It's so good to see you, Yamato." He turned to his mother and nodded. Although he shared his father's body type, broad in chest and shoulders and slim elsewhere, his colorations came from his mother. Ishida Anne, called Nancy by her family, was fair, blond, and blue-eyed, with the focused, piercing mien of an exceptionally intelligent person.
"It's good to see you, too." Yamato knew he was echoing, which could sound unenthusiastic, but his emotions were too riled to avoid it. As children, both he and Takeru had wished for their parents, vocally at first, but privately after years of attendants and tutors telling them to be strong, because Hakone came first. Would he even be here now, if it weren't to attend to the needs of Hakone?
"Take a seat. How is Takeru?" Nancy asked.
Yamato realized that he was hovering between the two sofas, somewhat awkwardly. He wasn't sure if choosing one sofa would insult the other parent, so he sank onto the armchair between them.
Which left him with his second little dilemma: discussing Takeru. What was he supposed to say? Well, he cried when he saw me off, because we rely on each other so much in your absence. I resent that you called me away from him, and I miss him more than I can say.
A charming response, if ever he heard one. Yamato didn't intend to pitch this conversation into the commode, but he wasn't inclined to lie, either. True, rulers were supposed to be accomplished liars, but he had little patience for that. After a pause that likely announced how carefully he chose each word, Yamato replied, "He was upset to see me go. He sent letters the day we departed and gave a few to Jyou without telling me, to dole out over the voyage."
Yamato swallowed hard and looked abruptly away from his parents, unable to continue. While he was sulking away his final days in Autun, terrified of leaving and starting his training for the crown, his brother was bent over a desk, writing letters to cheer him up and keep him company while they were apart. Only now was Yamato pulling his head out of his ass enough to realize that he hadn't considered Takeru's needs as much as Takeru had considered his. And he was supposed to be the elder brother, the future king! But what could he do now, from so far away?
"It must be so hard on him," Nancy murmured, cupping her cheek. "We'll arrange to bring him here as soon as his semester ends, if he wants."
"He's also free to study here, of course," Hiroaki added. "And he can return to Autun for school breaks, if he misses it there."
"I'll tell him." Yamato suddenly realized that he was the in-between for his parents and his brother; Takeru's actual family, communicating on behalf of distant relatives.
Hiroaki heaved a hefty sigh- Yamato nearly felt the slap of it, and the exhaustion beneath it. "I hope we can all be together soon, although we won't take away Takeru's choice of where to live while he's studying. And your mother and I want to catch up with you, but we have meetings and events today. I'd like to schedule a private dinner at the earliest opportunity."
"I'd like that." Yamato's words were forced, stiff, unaccompanied by a smile. His hands tightened, so he spread them flat on his thighs. If this wasn't a chat, then it was a business meeting. But why was he upset, when he had guessed that from the start?
"I'm so sorry," Nancy murmured. "But we'll make a proper evening of it, likely towards the end of the week."
"Were you able to read the reports and dossiers we mailed you?" Hiroaki asked.
Well, there wasn't much else to do on the ship. "Yes," Yamato said, a wise substitution.
"Perfect. I know you've been kept abreast of politics and information on Parliament members, but learning about the nobility is a must, too. I know you'll pick everything up fast. You always have."
"We're so fortunate," Nancy said, "and so proud of you boys. Your marks have always been exceptional, with so much praise from your tutors."
"Thank you. Takeru is better with language." Yamato had no reason to suspect that his parents favored him, although certainly, their hopes hinged on his future more than Takeru's. Still, he always propped Takeru up whenever he could, so that the second-born wasn't overlooked. He hoped Takeru didn't feel second best on top of second-born; but if he did, Yamato knew he wouldn't say so.
"You've both outdone yourselves," Hiroaki said, with a wonder that made Yamato want to believe him. "Thank goodness you inherited your mother's intelligence."
Yamato didn't know what to say to that, so he was relieved when his mother made a modest joke. Even among the most powerful families in Autun and Hakone, he and Takeru were considered formidably accomplished. They spoke several languages, had robust history backgrounds, and were strong in the sciences and philosophy. They also had extensive training in more princely arts, like psychology, military tactics, economics, politics, and, of course, etiquette. Yamato hated that last subject, which was unfortunate, as it was vital, and never had the decency to sod off.
"We wanted you boys to have normal lives for as long as you could," Nancy said. "But now that you've fulfilled your higher education..."
Nancy hesitated and glanced at Hiroaki. "It's our hope that the time when you take the crown is far off," he said. Yamato nodded, almost imperceptibly. Hiroaki and Nancy married, ascended to the throne, and had children young, filling a void in carriers of the royal bloodline following wartime casualties. It was likely that Yamato would be their current age or older when they opted to step down. In that sense, the pressure on his shoulders was far less than it could be.
"It's important that your training start, but it won't take the bulk of your time, as your education did," Hiroaki said. "You did well living in Autun, representing the bond between our countries there. But now, we want you to make a life here, to get to know your country and your people."
"We know you prefer less populated areas to cities," Nancy continued. "We have various residences for you to take breaks in, and Takeru is welcome to join you during his school holidays."
"We're told you boys love the Côtes d'Armor," Hiroaki said. "It's our hope to introduce you to places you'll grow to love here. We hope you'll apply yourself to your training, as you did your education, but it's our equal hope that you make a life you love here."
Yamato hesitated. Frankly, this all sounded far more relaxed than he had anticipated. With a regrettable trace of suspicion, he asked, "What does this training entail?"
"Some of your lessons will continue, more or less," Hiroaki replied. "Chiefly the ones pertaining to the crown."
Somehow, Yamato knew that included etiquette- which he called upon to suppress a scowl. Hiroaki continued, "You must also come to know important people: several advisers, key figures, noble families, and so on. You need to have relationships established and know whom you trust when you take the crown. We'd also like you to attend Parliament during the more noteworthy sessions as a spectator."
Like Autun, Hakone did not have an absolute monarchy. The king or queen, whichever spouse carried the Hakone royal bloodline, had a guaranteed seat in Parliament. The other Parliament seats were filled via general election. The person who married into the family or other Hakone royalty handled any state events that overlapped with the Parliament member's political obligations.
So, even if he attended Parliament, Yamato would not have any direct influence until he became king. Still, others could, would, and already had tried to curry favor with him. His family's wealth and power was such that a persuasive person could subtly impact the country through him, if he wasn't mindful.
"So I take lessons and attend select Parliament sessions." When he received confirmation, Yamato continued, "What about the remaining time?"
"Whatever you'd like, within the guidelines you're already familiar with," Nancy replied, referring to the general code of conduct for the Hakone royal family. "It's important to us that you boys connect to both countries and have something of your own outside of your duties. Speaking of..."
Nancy hesitated, and her hands rushed together, fingers interlocking. The wariness in her eyes, the slight trace of a wince, unsettled Yamato. "Please understand, this isn't an order. We're simply broaching the topic."
When she faltered again, Hiroaki intervened. "We aren't interested in pushing you or your brother. But, as you've noticed, your mother and I have always been overwhelmed with royal duties. We had the misfortune of losing our parents young, and I'm an only child. The more members of the royal family there are, the more people we can spread royal duties between."
At last, Yamato's treacherous hands clenched the expensive silk of his nagagi, creasing it. "You want me to wed."
"The last thing we want is to force it," Nancy hastened to reply. There was a poignant pause, and Yamato's gaze fell to the rug beneath his feet. His parents had a political marriage, united young, before they knew themselves or much of anything beyond their duties. He couldn't imagine spending his life at war with a nation, then marrying that nation's royalty as the ink dried on a peace treaty.
He had the impression that his parents respected and cared for one another, and that they were committed to leading Hakone and keeping the peace between Hakone and Autun. But they didn't seem to be in love- at least, not as Yamato understood love.
"I hope you won't find this invasive, but reports imply that you haven't dated much." Despite Nancy's enviable delicacy of tone and expression, Yamato's cheek twitched.
"I... suppose not." Truthfully, Yamato was baffled by the concept of navigating romance as the crown prince. He knew he was permitted to date, within those aforementioned guidelines of princely conduct. But what exactly did that look like, in practice? It seemed to him that reasonable young women would run away screaming at the concept of becoming queen one day- and he wasn't looking to wed an unreasonable person.
"We married to seal the peace," Hiroaki continued. "And we both would make that same choice, if we could somehow turn back time. But our dearest wish is for our sons to have their own lives, as much as possible. All we're saying is that, now that your education is complete, we consider you of reasonable age and position to wed. Do you have any interest in that?"
How the hell was he supposed to respond? All that saved Yamato from explosive anger was how damned astonished he was. "I... can't say I've thought of it. Takeru and I focused on our education."
When they weren't learning, Takeru mingled with nobles, or, better yet, the people of the nearby villages. Yamato walked and took various creative lessons, especially music. Of the two of them, Takeru was far more likely to have quiet romances budding. He was more personable and open, more carefree- and less burdened by duties, or so Yamato hoped.
"Think about it," Hiroaki said. "If you'd like to be introduced to potential matches, let us know."
And, at last, irritation emerged victorious from Yamato's warring thrall of emotions. With more antagonism than was wise, he drawled, "And what if I meet someone while I'm making myself familiar with Hakone? Or am I expected to wed a woman from Autun? That would be more difficult now."
With composure Yamato begrudgingly admired, Hiroaki remained unperturbed. "We don't need another marriage between our countries. Date casually, at first. Find out what you're looking for in a partner, enjoy yourself-"
Within the guidelines, Yamato thought, a second before his father said it.
"If you become serious about someone outside of a royal or noble family, we'll discuss it. For now, the important thing is to enjoy life in Hakone and adjust to the political environment here."
A paused followed, signaling that his parents had said everything they intended to on the topic of his marriage. The next move was his, but Yamato hesitated. A significant part of him would much rather not say what was on his mind- or, more pressingly, his heart. After all, why should he have to chase down a relationship with his parents? But then, why should he deny himself something he wanted to pursue, if possible?
His voice was rough, embarrassed, conflicted, and borderline aggressive because of that emotional turmoil. But what could he do? "Will I be able to spend much time with you?"
Frankly, Yamato viewed Hiroaki and Nancy more as the king and queen than his father and mother. He wasn't thrilled to be starting his training, but he was living in the same building as his parents for the first time in sixteen years. Was this his chance to get to know them? Or would his real family remain just Takeru and Jyou?
Yamato saw the flash of pain in both of their eyes, a brief hint before their extensive training masked it. He regretted causing it, but if showing interest gave him the chance to be close to his parents... He had to try, right?
Hiroaki looked haggard, with a tightness about the mouth that bordered on bitterness. "It's been hard on you both. It's hard for us, too, mostly knowing you through reports."
"I- I can tell you about myself." Yamato was irritated to have been reported on for so long, but more eager to reach out to his parents, to bridge that gap. Just a few years ago, he might have allowed his resentment to bar him from pursuing what he wanted. Perhaps there was even more merit to his parents' plan of allowing their sons to mature before thrusting them into the political world than Yamato realized.
Nancy scooted down her sofa, moving towards him. Yamato stared as her hand closed around his and clung with surprising force. "We'd love that." The way her voice shook made him look up- and he was unprepared to see the tears shining in her eyes, eyes identical to his. "And please, Yamato- Please know, of all the many things we've sacrificed for Hakone... The distance from our children was the most difficult to bear."
"Why were we sent away?" The room blurred, and Yamato willed the moisture in his eyes to stay where it was. He had waited sixteen years to ask that question, although he couldn't name what he had waited for. Courage? Or perhaps age and experience, to be on more equal standing with his parents? Or was a face-to-face encounter, a way to demand a real response, what he needed? Regardless, Yamato still wasn't sure that he was ready. He interwove his fingers, trying to hide the shaking of his hands.
There was a pause, a shift. Yamato noticed the sudden rigid set of his parents' upper bodies, the way they looked at him without looking at him. "It was a show of good faith," Hiroaki began, wooden and toneless, like a student reciting a memorized answer. "Hakone gained her Queen and the mother of her heirs through the treaty and our marriage. It was only fair that Autun receive something in return."
That's horseshit. "I'm not sure I follow," Yamato substituted. Perhaps he was better at etiquette than he gave himself credit for.
"I told you he's too sharp for that." Nancy's smile was tight, forced. "The blunt truth is that the feelings between our countries didn't change overnight."
Everything snapped into place, although frankly, Yamato had sensed this truth long ago. With cold, hard calm, he observed, "We were hostages to the peace."
"That's not the only reason," Hiroaki sighed. The light of humor previously shining in his eyes had gone out. "The other, the one you've likely been given most often, is that we want the next generation of Hakone royalty to love both places, to have a robust sense of both cultures and peoples. That was, and remains, true. But... Yes."
Nancy's gaze was unfocused, and still wet. "Tensions were high following the war. Instead of helping, the marriage made my siblings, especially my elder sister, the newly-crowned Queen, fear for my safety. So when your father and I wed... It was decided between the countries that our heirs would be educated in Autun once they were old enough to part from us."
Yamato knew all of this; the cold truth of it was a hunk of ice in his stomach for years. So why did the room go frigid as his hearing distorted with a high-pitched keening? He clenched his hands and turned his eyes to the rug, too woozy to look up. "Will Takeru be allowed to leave?"
Logically, Yamato knew he couldn't protect Takeru better than the personal royal guards already stationed at the Autun estate. He had experience in both Autun and Hakone weapons and martial arts, but it couldn't compare to the accumulation of daily training over years. The only thing he could guarantee in regards to Takeru's safety was that if Yamato saw a threat coming, he would die first.
But emotionally… Yamato wanted to push off from the chair and rush to the nearest ship like an arrow. Fear whispered atrocious suggestions: Now that the crown prince had returned, was the spare forfeit?
"Of course," Hiroaki sighed. "Any reservations over the relationship between the two countries are long past. We've had a mutually beneficial friendship for years, and both countries are flourishing."
Try as he might, Yamato was too distressed to respond. His face was hot, although he couldn't say if it was because of his riled emotions or his embarrassment over being so afflicted. "Yamato," Nancy murmured, leaning towards him. "Sweetheart, don't worry. Things were… strained for years after the war, but your aunt adores you both. She's told me so much about you and Takeru in letters and by phone. She would never allow anyone to hurt you in her care."
Yamato forced his diaphragm to move, working air in and out of his lungs. His mother had a point. He and Takeru were often invited to summer trips and visits to royal Autun estates as children, spending time with their maternal cousins. While the presence of the Hakone princes in Autun had a political weight and purpose, the Queen of Autun never made Yamato feel less than welcomed. Slowly, his entwined fingers relaxed, and reason returned. And with it, he retorted, "That was a hell of a thing to ask of you. And of us."
"It was," Hiroaki agreed. "And it is. We pray that you and Takeru will never be in this position with your children."
Yamato drew a hitching breath. Although the man and woman in the room with him almost felt like strangers, although these revelations hurt, he was able to see the things his parents sacrificed for Takeru and him. They gave them the best of everything, especially when it came to their educations. And it was clear that they had always taken pains to ensure that their sons would have more freedom, more chances at lives of their own, than they did.
And yet... He and Takeru were so lonely for so long, despite the presence of friends and favorite staff and tutors. The memories of his earliest days, of family trips, baking with his mother and Takeru, and being tucked in and read stories, were like a scrapbook, a separate volume from the rest of his life. It was buried in deep storage, but available if he searched the attic and blew the dust off the pages.
"We need to leave soon," Nancy said gently. "And I think we could all use a moment. But there is one more thing we wanted to say. An insulated ruler cannot serve his people."
"I know," was Yamato's mechanical response. "You've said that many times." Hell, it was practically their sign off in letters.
When his father laughed, Yamato's expression lightened, almost despite himself. With a warm voice and expression, Hiroaki said, "That's because it's so true- and because we both wish we had more time with our people before taking the crown. We want to encourage you to go among them, with the proper precautions."
In contrast to Hiroaki's warmth, Nancy smiled in a knowing way that made Yamato tense. "Waltzing in through the back of a café might not be the most sanctioned approach, however."
Yamato's surprise was sharp, but brief. "Ichijouji-kun. In my defense, the alley was blocked off. No one could enter from the back."
"We're not upset," Hiroaki said, still grinning. "In fact, we asked Ichijouji-kun to bring us pastries from the café, since you enjoyed yours. We've been meaning to try some since the Autun-themed businesses opened about a year ago, but time often gets away from us. You know we have the finest chefs available here. Those pastries were comparable."
Nancy's head tipped as she considered. "Better, I think. They had that homemade feel that ours lack, and I don't mean that they weren't professional quality. I mean that... They had the warmth that food has when someone prepared it with love."
Yamato found himself picturing Café du Ciel's kitchen, the clear golden light, the irresistible scents, the comfortable feeling of happy people working together… And a young woman who pressed his favorite things into his hands when he was feeling lost, overwhelmed, and clinically undercaffeinated.
He had to clear his throat and yank his mind back to the royal parlor, feeling out of sync with his surroundings, the way one does when they look up from reading a book. "I think so, too. I intend to go back."
"Good," Nancy said. "Inform the guards ahead of time, and we'll work out a way for you to go there without causing a crowd." Yamato blinked, surprised. Despite using his parents' mantra about being among the people to excuse his café excursion, he had expected a gentle reprimand, not active encouragement.
"We know you like to walk," Hiroaki continued. "Ideally, you'll be able to roam the city someday without being approached, like you could in the Côtes d'Armor. But that will take some time, I'm afraid. The novelty of a prince doesn't wear off overnight."
"We need to leave, Hiroaki," Nancy said. "Sorry to go so soon. We're so pleased that you're home, Yamato."
Hiroaki stood and squeezed Yamato's shoulder. "Welcome back. We'll arrange that dinner as soon as we can."
"Goodbye," Yamato replied. "Good luck with your events."
He rose and left the room with his parents. When they were gone, Yamato wandered back to his quarters and sank onto a chair in his private study.
His head was overcrowded with feelings and impressions. One was that Ichijouji Osamu had to be more than an average attendant, if the king knew him by name. Regardless, he already had the impression that Ichijouji was too sharp for that, too educated- and too ambitious, too eager and hungry. Sighing, Yamato jotted a note to ask Jyou to investigate him. He couldn't blame Osamu for tattling about the café, as he was just doing his job, but it would be helpful to know exactly what his job was. The real one, not the one on paper.
As for the rest...
Roncier soon wandered into the study, drawn by Yamato's presence. "Do you want a walk, old friend?" Yamato asked. He'd work his feelings out through his legs, and then...
And then, he had a call to place with his brother. Reason informed him that Takeru was fine; after all, news of an attack on him would quickly come to the palace by phone. But emotion ruled, as it regretfully often did.
Yamato couldn't be at peace until he heard Takeru's voice.
Author's Notes: Being crown prince is tough! And next chapter, we'll see that being an iemoto heiress isn't easy, either!
I changed Natsuko/Nancy's hair to match Yamato's, and I also tried to make Nancy and Hiroaki look about the same age (in my opinion, Hiroaki looks far older than Natsuko in canon). Yamato's parents are in an extremely difficult position :( I'm glad Yamato is old enough to bear that in mind when he reacts to decisions they've made.
Please look forward to a similar scene with Sora and Toshiko next time! I love you and hope you're doing well! Please do let me know if you enjoyed the update 3