Puits d'Amour
The Stray Prince, Pt 1
Yamato walked the palace grounds with Roncier, wearing a linen jacket against the early morning chill, a whisper of the coming autumn. He inhaled deeply, longing for the clean air of the Côtes d'Armor, tinged with the scents of wildflowers and the sea. He wasn't sure how to name what he smelled instead. Plants, perhaps? The growth and decay of a forest? Not unpleasant, but not home.
He feared that the Nagano Palace grounds would be groomed and polished: flat lawns, rock gardens, ponds, and pretty little foot bridges. To be fair, that description fit a good swath of them. But a dense forest surrounded them, where he chose to wander, away from any nobles enjoying the gardens and staff tending them. The forest was out of place in the heart of a city, insulating the royal family from the outside world.
And an insulated ruler cannot serve his people. Yamato tipped his head up, gazing at the treetops. Any sparse, sluggish sunlight was blocked by mist. The forest was old, a glimpse of what was here before humans claimed the land for a sprawling city. It must have been impressive once, vast and venerable, ancient enough to suggest an impression of watchfulness. But today, it was reduced to a privacy buffer. Decent spatial memory and navigation skills, with a compass for insurance, were all he needed to return to the lawn.
Yamato leaned against a tree trunk, a sturdy spire at his back, and closed his eyes. The woods weren't that active; any reasonable creatures fled to wilder places. What remained were scavengers, animals that found ways to benefit from humans. Though he could see, smell, and touch the forest, it felt strangely artificial, like a chunk of wilderness lifted from its home and dropped here. Not nearly as soothing as he had hoped.
Roncier's nose touched Yamato's hand, and though it was cold, he didn't startle. "What will I do, old friend?" Roncier stared up with wise, gentle eyes, clearly listening- maybe even understanding, or so Yamato half believed. "I don't generally get much free time."
Yamato was not invited to spectate today's Parliament meeting. None of the connections he was meant to foster were available. In short, he was free, but had no idea what to do with himself.
Jyou suggested brushing up on documents, but he spent two weeks doing that on the ship, thank you. He could explore the palace, but any passing nobles would try to talk to him. He wanted to feel more familiar with the palace, Nagano, and his new life before any tête-à-têtes with strangers- and their unknown agendas. Or worse yet, their unwed daughters.
He could roam the city, but what if he drew another crowd? Maybe he could blend in with a hat? Surely not, right? Still, his parents said he could go out if he took the proper precautions... And he already knew where he wanted to visit.
His stomach rumbled, reaffirming the point. "Let's go, boy." He and Roncier moved through the misty forest like shadows, wandering back to the world of men- a much shorter journey than Yamato desired.
XXX
Sora cleaned her station after a busy morning of baking. At six o'clock, she had already been working for hours. Waking so early was difficult, but she enjoyed the still, silent window before the world rose, and watching daylight gradually strengthen and shift colors.
The kitchen was in full swing, warm from the ovens and lively with chatter, laughter, and the sounds of stand mixers and dish washing. The scents were tantalizing, shifting from the sweeter smells of pastries to more savory bread aromas. When she first opened the café, Sora assumed that those scents would eventually grow less tempting. Sadly, that had yet to occur, and she struggled to ignore the heavenly mix of cinnamon, bread, and sugary glaze from the cooling cinnamon rolls.
There was a soft knock on the back door. Blinking, Sora wiped her hands on her apron. She wasn't expecting a delivery this morning...
Excitement struck, shivering down her spine. Sora rushed to the door, aware that Meiko and the other bakers were watching. She opened it and found herself face-to-face with a prince, wearing what looked to be an expensive linen jacket and trousers. He wore a narrow-brimmed straw hat with a sapphire ribbon around the base. Touching the brim, he murmured, "Good morning, Takenouchi-san."
Regrettably, Sora required a few seconds to process this. "Good, good morning, Your Highness. Would you like to come in? Oh- Hello, everyone."
The back door opened to a delivery alley, a stretch of grass with a cobbled, one-lane approximation of a road. A handsome stone wall blocked the lane from the view of the next row of businesses. Two men stood by a parked car, dressed in the blue kimonos of royal attendants, not the navy coats and trousers of guards. One looked familiar, with dark hair, spectacles, and beautiful blue eyes. Sora's mind tickled, struggling to place him.
The familiar man held a leash connected to the largest dog Sora had ever seen. Dogs were uncommon in Nagano, as the city was crowded and living spaces were tiny. She occasionally encountered small breeds, under ten kilograms or so. This creature was easily eighty centimeters tall at the shoulders, and had to weigh at least fifty kilograms. The size of him, the misty color of his fur, and the way he calmly gazed at her instilled a dreamlike sensation.
"I'm afraid I have to travel in a group until things… settle down." The faintest grimace passed the prince's face, there and gone. "Would you mind if my attendants ordered and ate outside? Roncier won't come in, of course."
"Roncier," Sora murmured. She understood casual Autun phrases, but wouldn't fare well in an actual conversation. She couldn't say the dog's name the way the prince did. He made it sound so lovely, both with his fluency and his full, pleasing baritone. She called another greeting to the attendants, whose eyes slightly widened. After a pause, the man Sora swore she knew bowed, and the other followed.
Sora stepped aside so the prince could enter. "Of course. I'd love to meet your dog sometime, if that's alright."
He stared at her, but didn't seem displeased- just surprised. "You're welcome to. People seem more wary of dogs here than in Autun. Most people give him a wide berth."
Sora's expression likely went wonky as she struggled against laughter. Of course people were wary of Roncier! If he stood on his back legs, he would tower over almost everyone. Somehow, the prince's failure to see that was endearing, as if it could never occur to him that someone might be afraid of his pet. "We don't see many. And if we do, they aren't so impressive."
Pleasure lit his face, brightening those dark blue eyes. Sora couldn't help but stare. Even stiff and distant, as in his picture in the newspaper, or uncomfortable, as he was when he first burst into her kitchen, the prince was handsome. But when he was happy… Now that was dangerous. "He is that, isn't he?" he said- and the warmth in his voice was just as hazardous.
What was Sora supposed to do with the knowledge that the future king struggled to walk through a crowd, but was as eager as a child to show off his pet? There was only one option: to tuck it away for safekeeping. If all else failed in conversation, she could ask about his dog.
But for now, he likely wanted breakfast. "What can I get you? Please, take a seat."
Sora led him to a corner of the kitchen, where she had stationed a stool beneath a counter in case he really did return. She pulled it out for him, and he sank onto it. "Thank you. I'm sorry for the trouble. You're the owner; you're far too busy to take orders."
"Not at all," Sora lied. Still, she couldn't thrust a prince towards a bemused university-age employee without warning. "What would you like?"
After some back and forth on the menu, Sora delivered his order to Mimi and Ken, who were working the register and the coffee station in the main room, respectively. At this hour, the café was swamped, but not many people lingered. They were popping in for fuel and hurrying back into the world, so most of the customers were waiting in line. Many knew each other, and were chatting.
The royal attendant she almost recognized was leaning against the short edge of the coffee station counter and laughing with Ken. The resemblance between them struck Sora with dazzling force. "You must be brothers!"
Ken's smile warmed when he saw her. "Sora-san! I'm so glad to be able to introduce you. Meet my older brother, Osamu. He works at the palace."
Osamu bowed once more. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Takenouchi-san. Thank you for taking care of my brother."
"He's a delight," Sora replied, and was rewarded with an embarrassed noise from Ken. "You work so close by! Feel free to visit, I'm happy to treat you every now and then."
"You're too kind." Osamu was as handsome as his brother, but Ken's smile was more pleasing. Osamu's was stiff, and failed to reach his eyes. Sora assumed he was shy. After all, Ken needed time to grow accustomed to everyone.
She hastened to complete her task and leave, giving the brothers space. "I hate to interrupt, but can I put an order in?"
"Making coffee for a prince?" Osamu leaned towards Ken, smirking. "No pressure, Kenny."
"He seems kind," Sora said, noting the way Ken's hands froze on a grinder. "And can we please refrain from drawing attention to our guest?"
This last was aimed equally at Mimi and Osamu. Mimi's mouth fell open at the word 'prince' and seemed primed to start squealing. She reigned herself in with visible effort, but whispered, "Can I deliver it? Please?"
"Sure," Sora replied, grinning. "I have to get back. Remember, it's important not to broadcast this."
With that, Sora returned to the kitchen and approached the prince, who was watching the bakers. "Can I offer you anything in the meantime, Your Highness? Would you rather eat outside?"
He tore his gaze away from Meiko at a standing mixer, scowling. Sora couldn't know what he was frowning about, but he gave off a self-conscious impression. His shoulders were set tight, and he avoided meeting her eyes. "I'm afraid of drawing a crowd. I know it's troublesome, but..."
"Not at all. You're welcome here, although…" Sora was proud of her kitchen and employees, but… Well, this was a work space, not exactly the environment she imagined a prince taking a meal in. "I apologize for the… setting."
His face wiped clean of expression, shifting to a manufactured neutral. "It's a first-rate kitchen, and I'm the one barging into it." Sora fought the urge to wince. They both seemed out of their element, unsure how to handle one another- and the vast distance between their social ranks. And, as an iemoto heiress, Sora was far closer to his caste than most people. How would Meiko, for example, handle a direct talk with him?
But Sora's personal mission was to provide a comfortable place for everyone to gather, so she pushed through the uncertainty and smiled. "Then please, make yourself comfortable. I'm afraid I have to get back to work."
"Of course. Thank you."
Sora returned to cleaning while Meiko kneaded dough (with her back conspicuously to the prince) and other employees prepped pastries. She found herself fretting. Did the prince want quiet, or did he expect her to entertain him while trying to work? The debate closed when he asked, "May I ask how long you've been running the café?"
She exhaled softly. Talking and working might be challenging, but at least the tension was broken. "A little over a year, now."
His eyebrows rose, and Sora swallowed a laugh. Surprise sat strangely on the scowly prince. "Really? It feels so comfortable here, I assumed you ran it longer. I'd love to have a look around when things quiet down."
"I'd love to show you around." Sora didn't need royal approval to be fiercely proud of her café, but wasn't it nice to have it? Warming to her subject, she added, "I suspect it feels so cozy because this place was a home before it was a café. No one lived here for years before my mother and I converted it, though."
"May I ask what made you want to open an Autun-style café?"
"Hmm..." Since the prince was looking for conversation, Sora followed cleaning with pastry decoration. She moved a tray closer to him and began artfully drizzling melted chocolate over pain au chocolat.
"I've always enjoyed baking, and Autun pastries are considered the best in the world. I love watching someone eat something I made. And I suppose… I like comforting things, and comfortable people."
When time passed with no response, Sora's gaze flicked away from her work. The prince was looking at her- through her, more like. He seemed to be processing, which made her nerves prickle. What was there to analyze about her answer? Did he deliberate so much over everything?
"Your pastries are amazing." Even as he complimented her, his expression remained neutral, edging towards frowney. "My parents had some brought to them after I visited-"
Sora's hand jerked, splattering chocolate onto a pastry with a wet plorp. She stared at the glistening pile of hardening goo, then at him, then quickly back at the mess as her cheeks went volcanic.
"I'm starving," the prince said mildly.
"You don't have to eat this!" Sora snapped. She couldn't serve a prince a reject pastry! "And I got the impression that you prefer pastries that aren't as sweet."
And he smiled- what a time to finally smile, damn him! In a tone so serene that it could only be read as teasing, he said, "Everyone wants sweets sometimes."
The last thing Sora wanted to do was hand over the pastry, but what choice did she have? Arguing with a prince was even less desirable. She grabbed a plate from a clean stack and placed the pastry on it, then brought it to the prince.
"Thank you," he said, grinning. Frazzled, ignoring the way her pulse fluttered at the gleam of boyish mischief in his eyes, Sora retreated to her counter and tray.
"You're, you're welcome." Did she dare ask? How could she possibly not?! "Did, um..."
With a lightness that made Sora want to kick him, he replied, "My mother said your pastries were even better than the ones from her chefs."
And suddenly, Sora's ears were ringing, drowning the sounds of the kitchen. She coached herself through one breath, then another. When she was reasonably reassured that the oxygen situation was under control, Sora placed the pastry bag of chocolate on the tray with exaggerated care. "R-really?"
The prince nodded as he took a bite of pain au chocolat. Sora gripped the edge of the counter to spare herself the absurdity of performing a giddy little jig in the middle of a busy kitchen. She wasn't interested in royalty, but they did have access to the best of everything. If they truly enjoyed her pastries... "Maybe it's not so bad, having a prince around," Sora joked.
Instantly, her buoyant mood chilled, aghast at her friendly jab. The prince blinked, his mouth fully of dripping pastry. He swallowed, then leaned against the counter, roaring with laughter. Sora stared, and was willing to bet that everyone in the kitchen joined her. Even if she had said that to a friend, not a powerful person who could retaliate if they took offense, the joke wasn't that funny.
"P-pardon me," Sora said when he quieted. "I was out of line."
The prince wiped a glob of chocolate from the corner of his mouth with a napkin, flushed and still smiling. "Not at all. It's refreshing." He dropped his volume, and Sora found herself shifting closer. "Just between us, nobles and royalty are exhausting- and royals more so."
Sora tried to smother her laugh with a hand, but it slipped free- and now she had to wash before touching the food. The prince grinned, clearly aware that she was amused. "You're not what I expected from a prince," she observed as she washed up.
He lifted a single golden brow. "I can't say you're what I expected from an iemoto heiress. I'm surprised you're able to run the café on top of those duties."
Sora scrubbed her hands and lower arms in warm, soapy water. "I suppose you're right," she murmured, unsure how to feel about that. There were times when she wished she fit the image she had of the daughter who would one day succeed Toshiko. In her mind, that person was a younger version of her mother: hard-working, creative, disciplined, elegant, with a sharp business mind, connected to hundreds of powerful people, with nobles eager to enroll their children in her coveted personal lessons. In contrast, Sora felt like an unruly child who selfishly wanted to follow her own passions.
The prince's expression was serious, but he wasn't scowling. Considering, maybe? "I didn't mean to offend. I'm impressed."
He seemed sincere, so Sora managed a rueful grin. "No offense taken. Regardless, I can hardly complain after talking to a prince like that!"
"I enjoyed it." His earnest expression and the way he leaned forward caught Sora's attention and pushed thoughts of her own insecurities aside. "Speak freely to me. I won't take offense to a joke." His mouth twisted as he considered. "Well- It might seem like I did, but…"
Color pooled in his cheeks, and he tsked and broke eye contact. Sora caught herself staring and forced herself to continue decorating pastries. Her impression of His Royal Highness, Ishida Yamato, was all over the damned place. One moment, he seemed standoffish, quiet and prone to scowling. The next, uncomfortable and out of his element. Then, his royal manners took over, all politeness and etiquette, or good humor transformed his face.
What was she supposed to think when the future king seemed so damned lonely? Sora couldn't recall anyone practically begging to be included in friendly banter. And had he been purposely offering tidbits about himself- his dog, his attitude towards nobility, his temperament- all along?
I wonder if he doesn't have many people to talk to? And he doesn't seem fond of the class of people around him. Sora knew from her mother that navigating the whims and attitudes of influential people was exhausting, a particular fatigue that could not be elicited from any other irritant.
Sora's hands worked as her mind churned. The prince's expression and body language had shifted back towards frowney and closed off while she hesitated over a response. She completed a few pastries before he said, "You mentioned the importance of repeat business last time. Do you see many customers from the university?"
Ah. Changing the subject. Wanting to help him along, Sora replied, "Most of my customers and employees are students. Some of them visit almost daily. Seeing so many customers who are friends, or who become friends here, makes for such a nice atmosphere."
"I see..." The prince's gaze went unfocused. Sora finished a few more pastries while he mulled over... Whatever he was thinking. "So the café is an important part of the community."
Traces of heat warmed her face. "I, I suppose so," she replied, hoping she didn't sound too pleased- either with the compliment, or with herself.
The prince wiped his hands on a napkin, cleaning away traces of chocolate and grease. Then, he placed his hands on his knees, as if to brace himself. "I want to be among locals my age, and to get to know the area. I'm not sure where to begin, or how to do so safely. But if Café du Ciel is a hub for regular customers about my age..."
Does he want to make friends? The longer the prince spoke to her, the more Sora was starting to see a lonely man who was new to the area, and wasn't sure how to assimilate. Which was likely even more intimidating when he was a future king in his capital city. What would she do if she had to start over somewhere new- especially when everyone had so many expectations for her?
Still, regularly hosting a prince- especially a newly returned one- in her café was no small task. It wasn't prudent to take on responsibility for his safety, and she had a business to run. It was wiser to say no, she knew that.
And still, he looked at her, hopeful, but slightly wincing, likely aware that he was asking more than she could give. But if she didn't, who would? And wouldn't it benefit everyone if the future king was connected to the locals, at least to a degree?
But while Sora's mind deliberated, making a case for helping the prince, her heart had already decided. "I can't control customer behavior," she began, and waited for his nod before continuing. "But most of our customers are friends. I can ask them to give you space and keep your presence quiet. Most will likely listen, but I can't guarantee it."
The prince slid towards the edge of his stool, looking eager, but unsure, as if he didn't quite believe what he was hearing. "I can bring a guard or two, at least until things calm down."
Sora was hesitating over her response when Mimi appeared, carrying coffee in a blue glazed mug and a plate with a generous portion of brioche and jam. "Hello, Your Highness!" she chirped. The prince blinked and nearly squinted. Sora grinned, aware that Mimi's personality was so bright that it took a moment to adjust.
"Hello, miss..." If possible, Mimi's smile widened.
"Tachikawa Mimi, Your Highness!" She placed the plate and mug on the counter and stepped back, still beaming.
The prince scowled, as if struggling to remember something. "Pardon- Are you the heiress of the Tachikawa company?"
Ah. I guess he would know. Tachikawa was a common surname, so Mimi was often able to avoid being recognized as heiress to a wealthy local family. The Tachikawas distributed one of the first commercially available ready-to-use home radio units roughly a decade ago, launching them into riches. They were developing phonograph record players and records, a new and exciting addition to the world of music recording and distribution. Additionally, her father owned a radio station, producing music, entertainment shows, and news channels.
Sora was uncomfortable when her privilege was revealed, but Mimi was chipper as ever. She raised a hand, like an eager student in primary school. "That's me!"
"Are records sold nearby? They're difficult to find." The prince's eagerness was all the more charming when contrasted against his resting scowl. Smiling, Sora took note of another of his interests.
"We sell them at our headquarters! Come visit, and I'll give you a tour, Your Highness!"
"Where is that?" Sora found his intense gaze a bit intimidating before, but now, it was too funny. Had he forgotten that he wasn't able to walk about freely in his poorly-concealed excitement?
Mimi described the location of the public-facing Tachikawa building, which offered tours and shopping, but ended on, "If you're ever free after my shift, I'll take you there myself!" Sora watched, awed, and shared a disbelieving glance with Meiko. How could Mimi speak so freely to a prince? But it shouldn't have surprised her; Mimi was Mimi was Mimi.
They chatted until Mimi excused herself to return to the register. When she departed, the prince said, "I shouldn't keep you from your work. I'll eat and leave. Is there a convenient time for us to discuss what needs to be done before I visit the café?"
You, personally? Not an attendant? "My shift ends around ten, Your Highness. Would you like to come for lunch? I live upstairs; we can talk there, if you'd like." Cleverly, Sora gave herself time to frantically clean for a royal guest.
The prince nodded. "I'd appreciate that. And, of course, I'll pay you for your efforts. I recognize that this is an ask."
Sora nearly deferred. "Everyone's welcome here," she said slowly. "And I think introducing you to the community would benefit everyone. But yes, it will take man power to manage your request. I'll explain the situation to my staff and ask if anyone is willing to take this on."
There was an approval in his serious expression that Sora didn't quite understand. "Exactly. I don't want to burden you or your employees."
"A note of warning, though." Sora paused, waiting for him to look a bit nervous, before continuing, "Most Nagano University students come from noble families, or at least wealthy ones. So maybe avoid mentioning how annoying nobles are in the future."
"Fair." Yamato grinned, and suddenly, Sora caught herself. When, exactly, did she start thinking of him as Yamato, and not just the prince? "I hope I haven't offended any nobles in this room."
There was a general chorus of, "No, Your Highness." The playfulness abruptly cleared from his face, and Sora's cheer vanished with it.
He hates the deference. Gathering her courage, Sora braced herself to tease a prince. "Well, you did say that royals were even more annoying."
And, like magic, Yamato's smile returned. "Also fair. And this coffee is delicious. A student made this?"
"I'm told pressed coffee is popular in Autun, so while we are fortunate to have the newest machines, I asked Ken-kun to prepare it that way. Everyone loves what he makes."
"I do prefer pressed. And you made the brioche?"
Sora accepted Yamato's compliments, then returned to work as he ate. When he finished, he rose, picked up his hat, and left payment on the counter- far too much again, by the look of it.
"I'll see you at noon?" he asked, and Sora recalled that the excess money might be appropriate, after all. Just what was she getting herself into?
But she no longer had the option of backing out, so she replied "Yes. Have a nice morning, Your Highness."
He said goodbye to everyone, placed his hat back on his head, and took his leave.
After a long stretch of silence- actual silence, no movement or mixing or anything, a rarity in a kitchen- Meiko inched closer, returning to her normal station after scampering away when the prince arrived. "Are you really going to have lunch with a prince? In your house?"
And suddenly, Sora's knees were shaking. She backed into a counter for support and cupped her forehead. "Gods help me, I am."
Meiko's aghast expression coaxed a tiny smile from Sora, despite everything. "Do you- do you need help? Cleaning, maybe?"
Breathing, maybe? "I, I might take you up on that," Sora nearly wheezed.
"Maybe you should sit," Meiko suggested. She fetched the stool Yamato had used and offered it to Sora, who sank onto it.
"He paid for trays of loaves," Sora muttered. If the prince was always this generous, then helping him have a secure place to spend time and meet people would be profitable- if she survived it. But how could she encourage customers to interact with him normally?
"I can't believe you spoke to him so casually," Meiko replied, as if reading her mind.
An icy sensation crept up Sora's cheeks. "Do you think I was out of line?"
Meiko shook her head so hard that strands of hair slid out of her bun. "No, not at all! I think he was happy talking to you. It's not my place to say, but… Didn't he seem kind of lonely?"
Sora blinked, so stunned that she momentarily forgot her prince problem. "I thought so, too," she admitted. It felt odd, somehow, to suspect that royalty had issues, or that non-royals could be privy to something they were thinking or feeling. And yet… Well, clearly Sora wasn't the only one who sensed that Yamato seemed lonesome.
Meiko brushed Sora's knee with her fingertips, so softly that she barely felt it. "I think it's a really nice thing you're doing. I bet His Highness will feel comfortable here, like everyone does."
Like I do, Sora heard, although Meiko didn't say so directly. Sora smiled, reassured that maybe she could handle this, after all. "Thank you, Meiko-chan. I wasn't sure I was doing the right thing, so I really appreciate that."
Meiko was often shy and overwhelmed, especially when she first started working at the café. But slowly, over time, she grew more comfortable with everyone, and they began to know her as a kind, earnest person. She graced Sora with her sweetest smile and said, with total confidence, "If anyone can help someone feel at home, it's you."
And suddenly, Sora's eyes were wet. She swallowed hard as her chest warmed and tightened. "Meiko-chan... Everyone creates the atmosphere at Café du Ciel together. So I'll be relying on all of you, okay?"
Sora meant to deflect, to point out that the café was cozy because of everyone in it, but Meiko nodded, looking serious. "Of course. We'll do whatever we can to help you."
"Thank you." Slowly, Sora recovered, fortifying herself with deep breaths, and with the comfort inherent to the place she and her friends made together.
All they had to do was pull one more person in. How hard could it be?
Author's Note: Soon, Yamato will be a regular figure at Café du Ciel, so we should start to meet more cast members! Hooray! And it only took… 38,000 words! Lord!
I experimented with a short, visually evocative scene here. I also tried to create a feeling of Sora "othering" Yamato by thinking of him as only "the prince," until she slowly began thinking of him as an individual. This is meant to communicate the difficulty of his situation- poor guy! I'm also interested by this more "princely" and polite Yamato, and how he flails from "a prince robustly trained in etiquette" to "irritable/emotional Yamato" at the drop of a hat, hah! What an… interesting lead he is, lol!
I'll see you in two weeks, when Sora and Yamato have a one-on-one to plan Yamato's visits to the café! Thank you so much for reading, and please do leave feedback! Take care, my dears!