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Title: Variations and Adaptability

Inspired by: Chapter 13 of the Manga Akagami ni Shirayukihime

Characters: Izana Wistalia, Lord Zakura

Wordcount: 1359

Rating: General

"I was most regretful that I wasn't able to attend the test this afternoon." I took the goblet from the tray and downed half of its contents in one thirsty gulp. The diplomats from the exotic land of Gabral occupied most of my time today, preventing me from attending the test given to the visitors from Juris Islands, let alone sneak a quick look.

Lord Zakura waited for me to finish my drink before answering, "The test was conducted in an unusual setting, but it was a success." He nodded solemnly.

"Indeed." I concealed my disappointment. I was looking forward to sneaking out during the commencement of the exercise; alas, my plans were thwarted and I was forced to endure a boring afternoon of exchanging merchant information with the Gabral party eager to trade their wares with our country. My mind was filled with nothing but brass scales, copper kitchenware, animal skin rugs, exotic fruits and silk fabrics that would please the ladies of the kingdom.

"How was Zen? Any problems during the exercise?" I placed the goblet down and picked a few bites of sharp cheese from the silver platter with a cheese knife.

"As predicted, Viscount Blaker did not disappoint. He voiced some of his sentiments about the unfairness of the trial, what with the royal pharmacy apprentice being roped in by the island girl to receive the message from the bird."

"So, did Prince Zen decline the viscount's request?" I stood next to the window, my eyes trained on the horizon. The blue skies are beginning to turn darker as the sun prepares to set.

Lord Zakura shook his head. "I was expecting Zen to decline his request." He hesitated a little.

"Go on," I prodded him to continue.

"Your brother agreed with the viscount's request. He must have been quite confident to let the viscount go and do as he pleased."

"Confident you say?" my eyebrows raised, "Pray elaborate, Lord Zakura."

"That viscount must have thought that girl, who's said to be Prince Zen's good friend, seems easy to take advantage of," he replied disdainfully. "Such nerve!" he added.

I gave a hearty chuckle. "I think that just means Zen left the whole matter in the care of his guards and that girl, as he trusts them well enough." I played with the hilt of my sword resting against my hip. Sunlight filtering through the large windows of my office made the precious stones glitter. One thing I have surmised since I met Shirayuki: when it comes to proving her integrity, she can be as unyielding as a rock. I can only imagine what that young woman did during the trials: put the arrogant aristocrat in his place.

"The only thing is, he probably hasn't been able to decide how he can protect what he wants to protect." Turning towards Lord Zakura, I gave him a matter-of-fact look.

He answered back with a knowing smile, immediately grasping my hint. "Is that because he is having a hard time trying to decide just how much she means to him?" He nodded. "But once he has found the answer to that, it would come naturally to him what he has to do to protect her."

I tilted my head and pondered his words. "Hmmm…"

I lapsed into silence.

Lord Zakura took this opportunity to take his leave. Bowing low, he murmured his salutations and wished me a pleasant evening. I nodded my dismissal, murmured to him about paying Viscount Blake a warning visit, before grabbing the nearest thick tome I was perusing earlier and began to flip through the pages. But when I heard him close the door behind him with a click, I ceased my reading and dropped the book on my desk with a heavy thud.

The paragraphs I had read earlier never registered in my mind. Instead, I kept thinking back on what Lord Zakura said about the depth of my brother's affections toward Shirayuki.

Obviously Shirayuki was held in high regard by Zen. But he had not experienced the first pangs of love and heartache yet, and I was concerned about how he could handle himself. A lot of people get hurt when it comes to loving someone. And Zen would be no exception to it.

I, myself, had some reservations about such deep emotions. It was something I always felt was exclusive for people other than me. I could not afford to let my heart rule my mind, so to speak. I've seen my own mother experience a long, heart-breaking mourning period after losing my father to an accident. There was a lot of talk around us that she was not fit to rule the kingdom due to her emotional state; and as the next heir to the throne, I was too young to support her then, never mind Zen who was but a toddler.

I was a silent witness to my mother's struggle to recover; those many days and nights of melancholy. Thank the heavens she managed to pull through. And I made a resolution with myself that I did not wish to experience the same anguish she felt.

Hence, I was dubbed an iceman behind my back. My lack of emotions toward the opposite sex suited me well. I only needed to perform my duties and serve the people. And even if duty called for a royal marriage, I promised myself I could only be civil towards my future consort, produce the heir and govern until my last breath; nothing more, nothing less.

And yet, deep down, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy towards my brother. As the second prince, he might be in line to the throne, but once I married and sired my own offspring, his claim to the throne would be pushed lower in favor of my eldest child. Zen Wistalia need not fear the pressure of being a King. It was my burden alone, and the line that would spring from my offspring.

I glanced down from my window. From my vantage point, I could see my brother was taking a stroll down the formal gardens with Shirayuki, probably escorting her back to the Pharmacy and Healing wards. His three aides followed behind, a little slower, giving him enough privacy to enjoy the young woman's company. But as soon as they reached the steps, he bid her a quick farewell. She waved back at him, and he turned away towards his aides. Quickening their steps, they headed back to the direction of his private apartments, where, without a doubt, he would be busy preparing a report for my review tonight.

Shirayuki continued to stand on top of the steps where my brother left her. She sported a fragile quality to her: hair flowing gently in the late afternoon breeze, hands clasped behind her back. My eyes were drawn to her wistful expression. She looked calm, even unguarded, and I found myself relaxing a little.

Such an open and honest expression she had. I felt a little conflicted about how my feelings towards her were. I did not feel a lot of hostility towards her like I used to. The resolve to remove her from my brother's life had begun to chip at the edges.

Shirayuki turned to make her own way back, but she paused, lifting her head up towards the direction of where I stood.

My breath hitched. My heart gave a skip.

For a few seconds, our eyes seemed to meet. Involuntarily, my hand lifted and rested against the warm pane of glass separating us, along with the vast expanse of formal gardens in between.

And then her eyes seemed to lose focus. The flowering trees surrounding seemed to reflect the shiver of anticipation coursing through me; the branches gave a shiver, showering her with some of their loose petals.

My breath fogged up the glass. I did not even realize how close I was to the window, nose almost pressing tight.

I frowned, watching her body grow smaller and smaller until it disappeared. Whatever emotions I felt when I saw her, I found myself afraid to give them a name.