The instant that her slippered feet left the stones of the courtyard, San knew that she had reached the point of no return. She strode into the royal residence, radiating an outward confidence that she didn't feel, the gaze of soldiers, servants, and her own guard –– led by Ganzo — all on her. San supposed that she could have have looked more awed at her surroundings –– which were quite impressive, all high ceilings and paneled walls — but instead her eyes were dead set on the path in front of her.

Tonight she would eat dinner. With a man.

What's the matter, you've eaten dinner with people before. She narrowed her eyes slightly. That's different, that was with Ashitaka. She huffed a breath when she realized, and what is so different here? They are even both princes!

San strangled the traitorous thoughts and took a reassuring breath. She was San, daughter of Moro, a guardian of the Forest. She could handle this.

Her small party—Ganzo never allowing more than three feet of distance between them—approached a small arrangement of servants blocking their path. San paused haughtily, and the head servant bowed to her.

"Princess, welcome to the Palace of House Yamasaki. Please, Your Highness, wait here while we inform Master Aiko of your arrival."

San raised an eyebrow. Beside, her Ganzo stepped forward. "You would inconvenience the Lady further? We walked across several courtyards before reaching this building, plenty of time to send a message." The large man's tone was not harsh or loud –– quite an accomplishment on his part–– but rather a growling menace. The servant seemed unperturbed, but San could almost smell the anxiety that exuded from him.

The servant gave another bow, this one smaller. "The Prince had retreated to a private place to prepare for this evening. I apologize. We will move as quickly as possible."

Without further pause, the head servant snapped his fingers and another servant, who looked to be not much older than a child, took off into the depths of the palace.

Ganzo seemed prepared to continue, but San met his gaze and held up a hand. He stepped back reluctantly, and San nodded curtly to the servant. "Thank you."

Those assembled bowed again, and retreated, if only to escape Ganzo's glower. San straightened, trying to let some of the tension out of her back, and gritted her teeth when her efforts were insufficient. Human princesses didn't stretch in public. She shivered slightly. It was not very cold, but this dress was thin, allowing every gust to chill her further. She hoped there would be warm food.

And then there was the matter of this whole situation. She forced back another shiver.

"Milady, may I speak?"

San looked to Ganzo, who had spoken in a low rumble. "Yes, what is it?"

"You are afraid."

San's eyes widened, taken aback at the bluntness of his words. He delivered them in a factual manner, and San realized that they were firm to the point where she could not convincingly deny it. San remembered one of the things she'd grown to like about the gruff man:; he never said anything that was not absolutely his mind.

It was a welcome change. San inspected the area, finding it relatively uninhabited; the closest ears too far to truly overhear their conversation. So she decided to be curious, and nodded. "Yes. I am."

"May I ask of what?"

"…Yes."

He shuffled once, sending his armor clinking, as if he were considering his words. "What are you afraid ofr?"

"I fear what I'll say. I fear what he will say. And…" The next words were hard in coming, and she did not know why she was confiding them in Ganzo, of all people. But they came, regardless. "I have no one to guide me."

Ganzo's brow furrowed, as he thought over her words carefully. Then he faced her. "My lady, you have spoken many times with Lady Eboshi. I doubt this pup of a prince will be a threat to you."

San blinked up at him, and then, against her will, a surprised laugh burst from her mouth. "Well, if you put it that way…"

Ganzo shrugged, his standard scowl lessening in intensity. "And if he does end up being a threat to your Ladyship…" He reached down and took the scabbard of a katana lightly in hand, thumb stroking the edge of the circular tsuba. The deep anxiety welled up in San and emerged in the form of laughter, and before she could contain it, something in Ganzo relented, and the smallest trace of a smile lit up his features.

San forced her mouth shut and looked up at him in amazement. She had never seen the grumpy old veteran like this before. He seemed… happy.

"Whatever did Eboshi tell you and the others last night?" San queried, remembering catching hints of conversation from the women before they had set out with Eboshi.

Ganzo's smile, if anything, became more pronounced. His small, intense eyes were no longer dark and glum, and he squared his massive shoulders. "She trusts me," he stated simply. Ganzo's gaze left her, and he faced forward, holding himself proudly. San knew that she would get no more information out of the man, and decided to leave him to his happiness, shaking her head wonderingly.

"Princess!"

San's eyes shot up, seeking the source of the cry. Aiko himself was hurrying towards her group, a host of servants and a pair of Kazekata trailing behind him. He was not quite out of breath, but San could tell that he had hurried all the way back from wherever he had come from. Aiko was dressed impeccably, wearing a gray and green coat over a white undershirt, the short garment showing the slim bootlike shoes beneath.

He approached her, slowing slightly, a nervous smile bright on his face. The servant made to say something, but Aiko simply spoke over him. "Princess, I'm sorry for keeping you waiting;, and welcome!"

She nodded graciously, hiding a smile behind her hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Ganzo's eyes narrowed slightly.

"It is fine," she said. "We did not wait long."

He stopped in front of her, took a visible breath, then bowed to her. She returned it, summoning serenity once again as she rose.

"Please, Saisana, come with me." He held out his arm, and after a second's thought, San took it.

"I will," she stated.

They walked together down the hall Aiko had come. Behind them, the dual groups of followers kept their distance from each other, Aiko's servants walking softly, the clanking of Ganzo's armor muffled distinctly by the huge brown jinbaori he wore. San could almost feel the tension between the large man and the pair of green-armored warriors.

"Your guard is impressive," Aiko said, and San nodded. She was surprised at this topic.

"Yes, Eboshi lent him to me. Captain Ganzo is quite loyal."

He chuckled, not quite hiding his anxiety. "Forgive me, I was referring to all of them –– what with their firearms –– but yes, the good Captain does seem quite protective of you. I was expecting the Kage, if I am being honest."

Ashitaka. Of course he would think that. "Well," she said," I suspect he has other duties to attend to."

"You two seemed quite friendly."

"He can be pleasant enough," San stated coldly. Why was he pursuing this topic? To soften the words, she added, "When he doesn't have the face of a stone, that is."

Aiko laughed, and San found herself smiling as well. They rounded a corner, San's eyes wandering over the ornamented walls and ceilings: not a single fixture was plain to the sight. Aiko drew in an audible breath, and he moved as if he wanted to look at her, but was hesitant to do so.

"How… did you get your hair to change that color?" he queried.

San looked to him. "A special dye, made by my people. It is used only by the royal family and their attendants."

"Fascinating," he breathed. "Does it signify anything?"

They came to a pair of double doors in the hallway, and they opened as Aiko and San approached. A surprisingly small table sat there, empty,

"Yes..." San fought to remember what Eboshi had told her, realizing that she didn't have enough time to remember. So she began talking. "It signifies the, erm, heavenly beings and the light that they give us." Mind working furiously, San continued as Aiko gestured for her to sit. "We of the royal family represent order and radiance to our people, and must always be worthy of their respect and attention. That is why we dye our hair is this color."

"That is very admirable." Aiko sat as well, paying full attention, and San fought back a breath of relief. He had not questioned further. "We have a similar belief, in that our family is descended from the Sun goddess." He grinned ruefully and shrugged. "Although I'm not sure how much I believe that, given that my grandfather was the first Emperor of this particular Dynasty…"

San nodded and smiled politely, unsure of how to reply to that. Silence stretched on, and servants began to carry food in on platters. The smell followed them, and San's stomach rumbled audibly. She fought back any expression, and Aiko looked like he was suddenly biting back a smile. "I… hope the food will be to your liking."

One of the servants, an older woman, suddenly looked to San and whispered, "I should hope so too ––His Highness helped make it."

San smiled in surprise, looking to Aiko, and he reddened slightly.

"Himino…"

The woman's smile widened, but she nodded and respectfully backed away.

Aiko sighed and raised a hand to his forehead. San tilted her head curiously. His dark eyes met hers with an air of resignation. "Ah… well, yes. I may have… assisted."

San leaned forward slightly, smiling expectantly.

He sighed again and began. "When I was a child I realized that I had a bit of a penchant for food. Making it, I mean. I wasn't allowed in the kitchens as a child, but –– well, I always thought it was a meaningful way to… help with things. After all I've been given, I found a heartfelt way." He gestured to the plate before her, which was laden with fish, leeks, and oysters piled on a white bed of rice. "Please."

San smiled and took a bite, chewing slowly. It was surprisingly good.

"Do you like it?"

San swallowed. "Yes," she said –– his eyes seemed to light up at the word. "Very much."

"Oh, I'm glad!" The prince leaned forward a little. "Food means... memories to me. Actually, the first time I attempted to make this dish, I botched it terribly ––the fire was large enough that my father almost found out." He chuckled and San found herself joining him. " It's quite the story." The prince raised a long-necked vase. "Would you like some sake?"

San nodded, settling back as the prince poured the clear liquid into the tiny glass at her side. She took another bite as Aiko smiled at her from across the table. This whole ordeal might be less painful than she had first thought.

…

Ituse walked beside Eboshi and Toki, her sandals clacking on the stones of the walkway. The sun was sinking behind the ramshackle roofs of the canal district, leaving an orange haze over the unfamiliar surroundings. Ituse did not look around her, however; she trusted Eboshi's sure path. She also did not allow her eyes to scan for threats, as the Lady had stated that it would draw undue attention. She was instead focused within herself ––, and on what Eboshi had chosen to tell them.

The woman she knew as Eboshi had grown up here, among these narrow and winding streets. She had been a child, a sister, a daughter. Titles that Ituse had never realized could apply to the woman that had forged a home from the hard stones of the West.

Ituse looked up at Eboshi, who was dressed simply, with a straw hat covering most of her face. It was ironic that it was now, when the woman was wearing a disguise, that Ituse knew the most about her.

When she knew the most about Saryu Nokurashi.

The story had not been long. She, Toki, and Ganzo had listened to their leader, wide-eyed and attentive as she had related to them the tale of her life, with all its hardships and surprises. The mystery that had been the Lady Eboshi –– a mystery that Ituse never thought would be uncovered –– had been. And nothing seemed to have changed.

No, she corrected herself. Much had changed. They were going to meet the Lady's family, for one, which was an odd idea by itself. There was also a new peace in the Lady's eyes, which was something almost foreign to Eboshi.

Ituse shook her head, recalling her surprise. And Ganzo had been happy! Afterwards, he had been smiling, his eyes full of gratitude –– a stark contrast to the women's expressions of shock.

But the greatest change had been that Ituse felt… a sort of burden on her. The burden of a secret. It was not an entirely unpleasant feeling, but Ituse was still unsure as to how it had affected her.

She shook her head and cast her eyes about, noting how few people there were out on the streets at the moment. A canal ran beside the path, a low wooden boardwalk adjoining the water, scattered with the occasional dock and a variety of small boats.

"So this man we are going to see, he is your brother," Toki stated, as if in clarification, and Eboshi nodded. "He has a child?"

"Yes, but he is unmarried. It is a sensitive subject, and I advise you not to pursue it."

"And this is where Chen is staying, right?"

"Yes."

Ituse puzzled over this for a moment, mulling over the logic in her head. "So he knows then," she said, looking up at Eboshi. "Chen. About your life."

Eboshi looked to her, her eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes." The word was a warning, but Ituse did not heed it.

"And he knew… before we did."

Eboshi huffed and made a motion akin to a bird ruffling its feathers, but did not reply.

Not letting this go, Ituse pressed forward. "When did you tell him? For that matter, why?"

"And how did he take it?" Toki joined in excitedly.

Eboshi sighed, eyes closing, and Ituse realized that the woman was calming herself. "It… what we spoke of is none of your business."

"It is entirely our business!" Toki exclaimed, and Ituse grit her teeth with the effort of not shouting at her co-captain to shut her mouth. "My lady, we only have your best interests at heart, and if you have some sort of connection with some sort of man ––"

Ituse bit her lip as Toki's eyes brightened in realization.

"Wait, m'lady, you told Chen that––"

"Toki," Ituse began, too late; Toki's face had already split in an excited grin.

"Oh milady, you ought to have told us!" she exclaimed, beaming.

Eboshi's mouth pursed into a tight line. "There's nothing to tell."

"I mean, as far as men go, Chen really isn't half-bad––"

"Toki." Eboshi's tone was strained.

"––and believe me, we both have plenty of experience for you to draw from," Toki continued, gesturing wildly with her hands. "But you have to let us know of these things! We––"

"Toki!" Eboshi snapped, sweeping out her arm, as if to stop the woman from continuing her ecstatic monologue. "That will not be necessary." She lowered her voice before it rose any higher than a brisk tone. "Toki, Ituse, it is not that I do not trust your experience, only that it seems that you don't trust mine. This is not the first time I have dealt with, well, a man, and—" She paused suddenly.

Ituse and Toki, eyes wide in suspense, listened intently. A faintly familiar voice rang out above the dim sounds of humanity settling down for the evening –– the sound of it was coming from the canal beside them. It was a pleasant voice, male, singing something inaudible at this distance. The sparkling waters of the canal drew the gaze of the three women, and as one, they approached its edge curiously.

A boat was trundling down the canal. It contained two occupants, one strumming a samisen melodiously while the other was… Ituse's eyes widened. The other was Chen, singing! His vibrant baritone moved through the evening air, drawing eyes and ears, and Ituse remembered just how good of a voice the man had.

He was singing a love song, one that Ituse remembered from her childhood –– one that the boys back in her home village would sing to the girls. As far as she could recall, it served the double purpose of entertaining the girl and impressing the parents, given the relative tameness of the lyrics.

Ituse looked back at Chen, who was closer now; she could clearly see the laughter that he was just barely holding in check by means of his determinedly loud singing.

Ituse studied the second figure for a moment. His face was hidden under a wide straw hat, but even sitting she could tell that he was a tall man, keeping his balance carefully in a cross legged position. He played the string instrument with undeniable skill, matching Chen's vocal prowess with ease. So this man was Eboshi's brother?

Then Ituse's sight was drawn back to Eboshi. The woman's eyes were wider than Ituse had ever seen, fixed unblinkingly on the slowly drifting boat and its musical occupants, and her mouth was a thin line, pale even under her layer of makeup.

Ituse nudged Toki at the strange reaction, and the two women shared a glance of fascinated horror. Beside them, Eboshi stepped forward, taking a slow, deliberate breath; her cheeks were now flushed red from the effort of restraining what looked like intense anger, but the glowing ears, Ituse noted, were something new. Huffing, Eboshi strode down the stone walkway, following the progress of the small boat determinedly. She stalked down the wooden steps leading to the water's edge, her face a vivid shade against the pale evening sky.

Ituse couldn't help but stare –– she'd never thought she'd see the woman blushing, of all things. With a sort of strangled noise, Toki clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from gasping aloud, as she, along with Ituse, finally realized exactly what was going on.

The Lady was embarrassed.

Ituse and Toki followed her belatedly, shoes clacking on the road. Eboshi had walked all the way out over the water and onto a short dock, the owner of the dock –– who looked to be a rather surprised fisherman –– scurrying out of the way at her approach. Chen continued to sing despite Eboshi's clear reaction, and he even stood up for some reason, forcing the musician to stop his playing in order to steady the small craft. As the boat approached the jutting dock, Ituse could almost see the beads of sweat rolling down Chen's face with the effort of staying upright in the face of Eboshi's glare.

The boat neared the dock, slowing gradually, and Chen's voice began to lose bravado until the sung words were barely audible to Ituse. The side of the boat lightly scraped the dock as it came to a stop, until Eboshi and Chen were nearly eye-to-eye, Eboshi having been granted several extra inches of height by the dock. He finished the song with a perfectly placed falsetto, then smiled roguishly up at his silent audience. The musician was frozen in place, fingers still above the final chord, his posture perfectly still, as if he wasn't even breathing.

Then, in a flash of motion, Eboshi pulled her arm back and shoved Chen right out of the boat. His cry of surprise was cut off as the canal enveloped him enthusiastically. Eboshi, not waiting for the splash to finish its course, stepped carefully into the boat and sat down, facing the musician. She gestured for him to take up the oar that lay beside him, and the man set down his instrument carefully and did as she directed.

Chen surfaced with a gasp, tossing his darkened hair frantically, seeking the retreating boat. Catching sight of it again, his arms pinwheeled and he swam after it with cries of indignation. Eboshi called to them then, her loud voice carrying over his splashing. "Girls, just follow the sounds of wet fool; I'm sure he'll lead you in the right direction."

Ituse, speechless, looked at Toki, whose mouth was hanging open. The boat passed out of sight, and it was several seconds before the frantically swimming Chen also followed it around the corner.

Silently, Toki met her eyes, and choked once, bursting into peals of laughter. Ituse, not able to hold it back any longer, joined her until they both were on the ground, uncaring of who saw them.

"We… we should…" Ituse gave up as the laughter renewed its assault, but somehow she managed to stand, pulling a gasping Toki up with her. "Have to follow…"

Toki took a deep breath, only barely managing to hold back further amusement, and then words burst from her in a shout that was surely loud enough to carry a fair distance, perhaps, even, to the retreating boat. "If that isn't true love, I don't know what is!"