Chapter 1- New Business

(June 1st)

"We're officially done with old business," my father announces setting down our financial report. "Time for new business." His fountain pen looms over a pad of stationary.
"I'd like to make a suggestion." My mother is a wisp of a being, threatened by even the most quant of breezes, but her voice can be heard over all.
I fold my handkerchief in my lap carefully and tuck it away. Our quarterly family meeting is always a relaxed occasion.
"Proceed." My father lifts his flute of summer strawberry champagne.
"Eevee has just turned sixteen and it's time she accepts suitors."
My father sputters his seasonal drink over his trim beard and the cherrywood tabletop. I pass him my handkerchief.
"Thank you darling." He dabs at his face. "I suppose the time has escaped me. What say you Eevee?"
Surprised, I am unable to say much. I consider myself very fortunate to have a father who cares about my education and has allowed me so much freedom, but I did not expect this much leniency upon the subject of marriage.
"Well?" my mother presses, her grey eyes piercing. Many of my dear friends from the academy were married quickly and with little warning or regard for their individual preferences or sensibilities.
"Thank you father for asking. I would like to meet suitors, but since I am your only we should wait for the best offer…"
"Rubbish," my father barks, "You two are my whole and only precious possessions. Everything here belongs to you two. I want only that you'll be looked after with kindness and perhaps a rivaling pocketbook."
"Oh Father!" I toss myself into his arms for a firm hug. The watchmaker goes red but accepts my affection. "I can wish for nothing with a father as kind as you."
"Then it's settled. I shall let your grandmother know your accepting suitors and she, your mother and you shall manage them. By next quarter you can personally report your options and discuss as a family your next move."
Elated and unable to focus I toy with just about everything as we continue talking over our investments.

(June 8th)
My grandmother, Lady Helena Druid, is my father's older sister. Upon arrival she has to dip her head through the door to make room for both her nearly six foot stature as well as the wine velvet top hat overloaded with peafowl feathers and bright orange dried hibiscus flowers.
After she's put away her one exceedingly large suitcase in one of our guestrooms she finds my mother and I enjoying some jasmine tea in a nook overlooking our modest rose garden. My mother and I are quite proud of it, because instead of hiring a florist and gardener we donned our straw hats and leather gloves and set out to plant all we need for arrangements and to perfume our cosmetics.
"I hope you two do not mind starting now. I'm much too excited to wait any longer." Grandmother sets a charming cream colored briefcase on the table.
"Not at all," my mother approves.
Grandmother Druid takes her seat across from us, pulling out papers and pens and stamps. "Where to begin… Eevee, is there anyone you have in mind?"
I have been to a good share of celebrations, balls, and garden parties where I have met men, but none have really stuck out as potential romantic partners. I also can't remember which are married.
"I have met many good men but I viewed them not as suitors but brothers, uncles, and friends. I don't have any particular fondness for any of them."
"That's fine dear, it's more exciting with a clean slate anyway. I've been talking to all the other ladies my age," she laughs, "and we have many young men to discuss."
I smile. I never thought I'd have such a big role in my own marriage. Grandmother thumps a list of names out onto the table.
"Do you have any qualms against marrying a widower?"
"No."
"Kids already?"
"Maybe not. As long as they are younger than me."
"You're not very picky." Gran laughs again. "I was hoping to narrow it down somewhat."
"Is that bad? I'm sorry."
"No dear. Let's just skim and you can cross out anyone you don't like. We'll do the same and then we'll discuss, alright?"
I do as I'm told. The ninety-three names are accompanied by net worth, titles, previous marriages, children, occupation, and family. Some even have a portrait print or sketch.
"You were very thorough," I compliment. I cross out seven names with certainty. My mother pouts when she peeks over my shoulder to see I've crossed out Uchiha, but I stand by my decision. I don't want connections with the kind he does business with. Too dangerous. My pen pauses when I reach the next name. Sabaku, Gaara.
"The king's on here?" I look up at Grandmother.
My mother flips through her own pages before she lands on the daunting name.
"I wasn't sure. He's just now your age. I wasn't positive what your opinions are on the new king, they're quite mixed…"
"He's a good leader." My mother nods. "But a monster nevertheless." My family shares this sentiment. When the last king died and the prince returned no one was ever optimistic. There were so many tales of slaughters around him when he was a child. Since he became our ruler there's been improvement to the aquifers, plumbing became an easy fixture for the poor to acquire, and there's been a movement of greenhouses sprouting up behind hospitals and schools. There's even been a new program to better educate doctors about foreign medicine.
"I… I have nothing against meeting him. I like his eyes," I admit.
"But he's a demon," my mother objects.
"She likes his eyes," Grandmother teases, shrugging it off. "It's a long shot he'll even accept a letter about meeting anyway."
"Fine."
By the time we've crossed out any no's and I've agreed with their choices, we still have forty-five names.
"Enough for now. Let's just see what's prepared for lunch."

After everyone has long fallen asleep and cicadas are chirping I loom by my bedside candle going through the pages again now that I have some privacy. After being narrowed down all the remaining men seem promising. From my dear friend Uzimaki's wolfish smile to Hyuga's gentle intensity. Kakashi's a little older but never married and we've always had good conversations. I've had the pleasure of meeting most of these men briefly.
Those teal eyes though… When I turn to his page I'm filled with the need to see them in person. I want to watch emotions pass through them, have them on me.
I've seen drawings and paintings of the king all around, but the artists always seem to have some sort of vendetta. To make him look fierce and powerful to scare away foreign inclusion. They draw him as he's seen, not as he is.
Realizing I've been staring, I tuck the papers back into my nightstand.

(June 12th)
My grandmother is quite secretive as she collects each day's post. We've agreed upon having a garden party since it's a beautiful summer and we've put so much effort into our new bushes and saplings. We've invited the family and my friends to keep me comfortable with however many of the forty-five men on our list will show up. With still almost a month left, I'm not too nervous.
"Can't you at least give us a clue to how many there will be?" my mother begs between sips of her tea.
"No." Gran smirks. "It's more fun this way. Besides, knowing could make Eevee anxious."
"Not knowing may make me more anxious," I counter.
"Let's just say that so far our turnout will be impressive. Who knew men liked beautiful young women?"
"We'd better go plant some poppy's. You're driving me to insanity!" My mother sets her cup down and whisks away to the sunroom to collect her gloves.
"I'll join you." I rise but am stopped by Grans thin hand around my wrist.
"Is there anyone in particular you're interested to know if they're coming?" Her tone is low and secretive. She's giving me a chance to get one free yes or no?
I shake my head. There's no point in asking, he won't come. The king would never come to the modest manor of a watchmaker just to meet a teenage girl. He's no doubt busy and neck-deep in postage. Probably has a harem or the like already. The thought makes me sick but I can't tell anyone about my childish wish. She lets me go to join my mother.

(June 14th)
With the addition of poppies and then calla lilies the garden has become a decent amount of work. We don't mind, but father has also commissioned for a new portrait of me. It set in with him I could be leaving soon to be married. Mother assured him there's still plenty of time while I'm courted and then wedding planning. Then mother got overly excited because we had yet to pick a dress for my party.
"I'm quite fond of my pink one," I'd said, but my grandmother has tssk'd and my mother shook her head.
"We'll have a new one made."
"Spare no expense," my father agreed.
All these activities have filled my days. Posing for my portrait after breakfast until tea, then gardening until lunch, then a fitting.
When it's time to make decisions the seamstress has drawn a quick croquis of my body. My mother and grandmother each take out a pen while I thumb through fabric.
"Calf length." my grandmother draws a line. "It'll be hot."
"But no low neckline," my mother adds, "a delicate square neckline perhaps below the collarbone?" my mother suggests. She draws it out.
I search through dozens of tubes but none leave an impression. They're pretty, but on me? I don't know.

"Sleeves?" the seamstress asks. "Puff sleeves are very…"
"Too first ball," Gran shakes her head.
"Since it's such an important day and summer, I'll allow short ones," my mother informs.
My fingers leave the yellow into the green. A mint green catches me. I pull it out.
"Perhaps..." Gran starts drawing. "Something like this?"
I spot paying attention when I pull a teal then a turquoise.

(July 10th)
Before I know it it's the day. It's still dark when my mother and gran wake me. After a bath in flowers I sip tea too nervous to eat. My mother is brushing my hair, my dressing maid sent to fix up my table in the garden. Gran returns, tucking a red envelope in her pocket.
"What's that?" I ask. The first light of the morning dances across my mirror.
"Just some last minute business. Nothing for you to worry about." She blows out the candles one by one and secures all the curtains open.
"I think I'm going to be sick."
"Eevee, we'll be there the whole time. You don't have to speak to anyone you don't want to. Your friends are already here. If we notice you need a break or are alone we'll point one of the girls in your direction."
I take a deep breath. "Let's see this dress."
"That's the spirit!" Gran twirls to get it from within the garment box. A bloom of teal emerges. It's youthful with bows at each shoulder but elegant with a high waist and full shirt.
"It's perfect." My eyes water.
"Every man will be fighting to get close to you. You'll be a picture of beauty and grace!" Gran declares dancing it around.
"Let's just fix your hair and you can put it on."
"Very well." I dab my tears with my handkerchief.