Co-written with miss mika namariya! We own nothing. :)

Kyoko and Kuon headed back to the Prince's chambers with Sir Hoppington by themselves. Kanae had gone to settle some bets and collect her winnings from the fools who had bet against Kyoko, and Sir Kijima was busy telling his version of the morning's events to anyone who would listen about how the knight nobly and graciously dueled with the Prince's bodyguard and how he held his own against the best personal guard in the kingdom, despite his heart's chivalrous protestations about holding a sword against a woman.

Throughout the rest of the morning, Kuon couldn't help stealing looks at Kyoko. Instead of disappearing into some cranny, Kyoko was instead sitting on the floor in a corner, carefully polishing her sword. The Prince was aware that he was supposed to be reviewing the pile of documents on his desk, but instead his eyes kept drifting away from the paper and towards Kyoko. Normally, when his bodyguard was visible she was moving around, patrolling, her eyes constantly scanning around. It was almost odd to see her so still and focused, her hands running a polishing cloth over the sword's handle in a way that was almost reverent. When she looked at the stone set into the handle, Kyoko's face had a soft, wistful smile that both melted Kuon's heart and stabbed it with jealousy. The sword was clearly something special to Kyoko. Was it a gift, perhaps? From the mysterious Princess Rosa that Kyoko had mentioned earlier? The Prince wanted to ask, but couldn't quite bring himself to interrupt the focused young woman. And before he could muster up the courage, Kyoko sheathed the sword and gathered up her things before summoning the royal guard to watch Kuon while she made lunch.

When she returned to the Prince's chambers with a large tray, the sword was nowhere to be seen. Kuon sighed internally, resigning himself to asking about it obliquely over the next few days. Perhaps she'd let something slip. It was hard to say with Kyoko. Getting any personal information out of her was tricky, and if she did say anything, it was just as likely to confuse Kuon as it was to inform him.

"Admit it," Kyoko said as she uncovered dishes and placed them before him.

"Admit what?" Kuon asked, brow furrowed in confusion. He looked at the lunch plates.

"You didn't think I would win, did you," the bodyguard said. "You didn't think I could actually beat him."

"I have no doubt about your weaponry or combat skills; I know you're very competent," Kuon said.

"Liar. I saw how nervous you looked on the sideline."

"You wouldn't like it if I tried to fight someone twice my size, either," Kuon grumbled.

"Sir Kjima isn't twice my size. He's not even as tall as you," Kyoko pointed out primly. Kuon couldn't help straightening up at the comment. Kuon was quite tall, most certainly taller than Sir Kjima by a few inches, but it wouldn't exactly have been princely behavior to point such a fact out himself. "And I wouldn't like it if you tried to fight anyone," Kyoko continued. "I am here to protect you."

"I appreciate that," Kuon said. "But you know, I'm not exactly helpless. I can defend myself well enough." Kuon poked at his lunch. She made it sound as though he was incompetent with a sword. After watching the display this morning, Kuon also wanted to duel Kyoko. Or at least, have a practice bout. Her swordsmanship was better than his, but the prince was curious how long he could hold out against her. He hadn't forgotten about the first time they'd met and she'd bested him (quite thoroughly). He still fantasized— er, thought about it— often. Kuon decided he wanted a rematch. And the fact that he could suggest barehanded and (respectfully and carefully) wrestle and pin her to the ground had also crossed his mind. Kuon forced his mind back to safer places, realizing Kyoko was still talking. She had taken his spacing out as offense and was busy apologizing.

"-er. Not that I think you couldn't take care of yourself!" Kyoko said. "But you know, you are a prince and must fight with honor, and assassins would not—"

"If you keep talking about all these hypothetical assassins, you actually will offend me," Kuon interrupted.

"P-pardon?" Kyoko stuttered.

"It's a bit rude, frankly. Just how many people do you think wish me dead?"

"I—"

"The way you speak about assassins, you make it sound as though half the kingdom wants me gone. I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I thought we were past that." The prince shook his head sadly. "You might not believe it, but not that many people are out to kill me. I'm actually pretty popular," Kuon joked, looking up from his meal to smile at her.

Kyoko hadn't seen the Prince smile like that before. It was sweet and friendly and sarcastic and slightly crooked, and for the briefest second Kyoko felt a strange flutter in her chest.

"I— I never said they had a good reason for wanting you dead!" she squeaked.

The guard began to apologize profusely, but Kuon waved it off.

"It's fine. I know you just want to do a good job. And should the need ever arise, I know you'll do your best to protect me," Kuon said seriously. "But you're also my subject, which means it's my duty to protect you, too. Understood?"

Kyoko opened her mouth to protest. After all, it was her duty to die for him, if it was required, and it was a duty she would willingly do. But something in his gaze stopped the words before they rolled off her tongue.

"Yes, your Highness."

"Good." The Prince smiled, and the serious atmosphere dissipated. "How about a walk? I think I saw some daffodils around the pond that would make a nice addition to Sir Hoppington's tank."

*** LINE BREAK***

Kuu grinned as he strode down the hallways, waving to anyone he passed. This was wonderful - he had to talk to Julie about it right away. She would be overjoyed! He burst into the parlor, practically singing.

"My love! I've got incredible news - oh, hello, Lory, you old warthog!" He grabbed his old friend up in a hug, almost making him upend his teacup. He let him go and danced over to kiss Julie. She returned the kiss enthusiastically, despite the fact that it scattered the papers she had been poring over.

When they broke apart, she asked, "What's the news, darling? What's got you so excited?"

"Our boy is in love!" he boomed.

Julie's eyes were as wide as Lory's saucer. "He told you?"

He spun her around. "He didn't need to! His face said it all!" He set her down, plopped into the chair next to her, pulled a tray of snacks towards himself, and started telling her all about the duel for Sir Hoppington's honor. "And when she took the frog from him, our baby blushed! Not to mention the way he was watching her. I swear, Julie, his heart was in his eyes."

Julie leaned in closer to her husband. "Do you think," she began cautiously, "do you think she could be…?" The queen couldn't finish the sentence, hope swelling up inside her and making her throat catch. Kuu gave his wife's hand an encouraging squeeze, knowing without words that he and Julie were thinking the same thing.

"I think it's a definite possibility," he replied softly.

"It would be so wonderful," Julie said. Tears of happiness threatened to spill from her eyes, and Kuu gently brushed them away with his thumb.

The King and Queen had prayed for years that their son would find his True Love. They did everything in their power to help: allowing Kuon to wander the capital city in disguise in hopes that he would run into his fated True Love in the market, or spot her amongst the crowds that so often traveled through the city. When the young prince became a squire, his parents had bought him a magnificent horse and encouraged their son to go riding through the King's Forest.
The year he turned sixteen, Prince Kuon had rescued not one, but two young noblewomen (one from a wild boar and the other from nearly drowning in a river), and yet both times instead of falling madly in love, the Prince had seemed almost indifferent to the young women. For Kuon's eighteenth birthday, Kuu had thrown a lavish, completely over the top, three-day masquerade ball and invited practically every young eligible lady in the kingdom. It had been their Majesty's hope that a mysterious maiden would make a dazzling late entrance and dance the whole night away with their son. But Kuon was too well-mannered to allow himself to be monopolized and instead spent every night barely managing to dance one minute with a partner before a new young woman would tap his shoulder and ask to cut in.

When the masquerade ball failed to produce a royal wedding, the King's councilors began to despair that the future monarch would ever find his True Love. After all, the Minister of History and Culture had pointed out, not everyone found their Perfect Match. It was unfortunate for the Kingdom, but plenty of Monarchs had ruled justly and wisely without the blessing that their True Love bestowed. Prince Kuon was smart, kind, and hardworking. Even without his Perfect Match, Prince Kuon would be a good King, the Minister of Finance had remarked offhandedly. Just perhaps not a great one.

Kuon had tried not to take his romantic failure (as he privately thought of it) to heart. His parents did their best to comfort him. Kuu told his son not to be worried — after all, he hadn't found Julienna until he was twenty-three. The King and Queen assured their son that his True Love was out there. She was just running late.

Lory had been strangely quiet about the results (or lack thereof) from the masquerade. The Duke had helped plan the affair, which made sense since inviting half the kingdom to a massive three-day costume party was just another week at the Takarada estate. But when the Prince was still single at the end of the affair, Lory had not seemed disappointed or even surprised. If anything, the Duke had seemed almost satisfied by the results.

With his uncannily keen intuition about the rules of the Universe, Lory had his suspicions about Prince Kuon and Kyoko almost since the day he first met her. So it was with great delight that the Duke now sat in the royal study, watching the King and Queen begin to realize what he had already seen coming practically a decade ago. Lory watched eagerly as the scene before him unfolded, snacking on some popped corn he had imported from across the sea.

"His bodyguard," Julie realized, since Kuu had not actually said who the lucky lady was once during his story. "You're talking about his new bodyguard!"

"Yes! She just seems so perfect for him!" Kuu enthused.

"I know," Lory said smugly from behind his teacup.

"I mean, absolutely perfect! We couldn't have imagined better for our little boy!"

"And you haven't even tried her cooking," the duke chuckled. "It's almost like I hand-picked her or something."

"Yes! Almost exactly!" Kuu, like his son, was never good with subtlety. "What are the odds that she would be exactly what our boy needs?"

"One in a million, maybe less. Truly, what would you do without me?" He took a sip of his tea.

Julie let out a happy little sigh. "Oh, I can't wait for them to realize it."

"Uh." Lory set down his teacup.

"The people will LOVE her," Julie continued.

"Wait, what do you mean, 'uh?'" Kuu's royal brow furrowed. "Lory…" he said slowly, putting the pieces together, "she does know why she's here, right?"

"So she has ONE miiiiiinor flaw." He cleared his throat. "She kind of… truly believes that this was a bodyguard position, nothing else. She competed for the role to be the one to guard him solely out of a sense of duty, not as a chance to get close to him. So she, well, doesn't realize that she's most likely his True Love."

Kuu was in tears. "What?"

Lory nodded solemnly.

"We have to make her realize, right now." He gestured wildly with his arms. "What if I die before I get to meet my grandchildren?"

"That's my line, dear heart," Julie said, putting a soothing hand on his arm and handing him a pastry with her other hand. "Besides, isn't this so much better? If she doesn't care about getting close to him just because he's the prince, she can come to love him for himself!"

"Tha's true," Kuu mumbled around a mouthful of pastry.

"True Love takes its own course, even through the densest of forests," she said sagely before getting her own pastry.

"Dense is a good word," Lory said, picking up his teacup. "A very good word."

Kuu swallowed his pastry. "How dense are we talking? Like, pound cake?"

He shook his head sadly.

"Cheesecake?"

Lory winced.

"She can't be as dense as fruit cake."

"I think we need to drop the food metaphors, love," Julie said, handing him another pastry.

"I would never drop food."

"Focus, will you?" Lory snapped his fingers at his friends. "He's been lamenting his love woes to a frog!"

"So she's just a guard?" Julie asked with a sigh. "Nothing more?"

"What about True Love?" Kuu lamented to his pastry. "How will our boy ever be able to sit on the throne without her? I couldn't be half the king I am without you, Julie."

There were certain benefits to any kingdom where the monarchs were united by True Love. Knowing the country couldn't be threatened by Sleeping Curses or Hundred-Year Winters provided a certain base level of political stability. While it would be impossible to measure the power and positive effects of True Love with any kind of scientific accuracy, even the most cynical person had to acknowledge that couples that were a Perfect Match had a certain je ne sais quoi about them. It could never be proven that King Kuu and Queen Julienna's True Love was directly responsible for the uncannily long period of peace and prosperity that had graced the kingdom since the royal wedding, but it couldn't be disproven, either.
It was generally accepted by the populace that there was something special about True Love. Those lucky individuals who found their Perfect Match had an undeniable spark. But whether it was because of the magic of True Love or the goddess of fortune or simply the comfort and happiness that came from finding a soulmate was a discussion generally left to the most esoteric philosophers and drunk university students. Also, Lory Takarada. (What else would the academy study?)

"If only she knew," Julie sighed, and bit into a pastry.

Unbeknownst to them, Kyoko's team had been listening in on this conversation, as they did with all talk in the palace. One of them shot back to Kyoko to relay this information, which she understood about as well as could be expected of her.

"I see," Kyoko said, once her helper had repeated the conversation. "I need to be MORE than a guard!"

The helper nodded. For once, their mistress was seeing the obvious!

"I have to help him find his True Love for the prosperity of the kingdom! A sacred mission has been entrusted to me!" She shook her head to herself. "No wonder Duke Takarada made those trials so extensive! This is the most important role someone like me could ever play!"

Her assistant face-palmed and flew back to its post.