iv. Multi-colored Carnations

Thalia leaves Wistalia Castle on a bright morning, when the midday heat has not yet quite hit.

You do not see her off.

Instead, you are in your office, brooding over paperwork, and if you brood more over other things than over the contents of the contracts in front of you, then nobody notices.

Probably.

Okay, so Mitsuhide and Kiki notice. It is hard to hide anything from them, even if you wanted to. Mitsuhide has the annoying ability to tickle information from you, and Kiki – well, she probably draws it out of Mitsuhide. You think. Or she compensates not knowing you as well as Mitsuhide does with a frankly scary intuition that blends perfectly with Mitsuhide's strategic planning. In that way, and so many more, those stupid knights of yours are perfect for each other. Except that, of course, Kiki will have to marry a nobleman or someone who would benefit her family, and that Mitsuhide probably will not ever marry because he is so stupidly focused on you. Great. So it is not only you who is going to end up in an arranged marriage, but your knights, as well. Maybe, one day in the future, you can mourn all those lost opportunities collectively.

But maybe, you think, this has been a lesson, too.

Your brother has always treated life as such; whenever there was something you could not overcome, he would find a way to teach you. Or to make you see the lesson in the events; the message to understand and remember in order to not let anything like that happen again. For some time, So what did you learn from this, Zen? had annoyed you so badly you had distanced yourself from your elder brother. But as you grow and gain experience it becomes clear what his intention was. It is impossible to forget that you love him, even if sometimes you wonder whether he loves you, too.

"Zen. It only took you a day to notice, this time. You are getting better."

Sometimes, though, you want to punch him, especially when he pulls stunts like that.

"This is not a game, brother! Just let me know when you are back!"

Izana Pax Wistalia, First Prince of Clarines, chuckles. "But that would not be as much fun, would it?"

You fold, sighing.

"Lord Haruka tells me you have been working hard."

He has? Well, now that is a surprise. Lord Haruka seems to have made it his life goal to keep an eye on you, and the results have been less than flattering in the past. The old eagle eye has no sense of humor.

"And your reports have been concise and helpful. Your advice shows you would have dealt well with the situations in Raxd and Oriold. You should have taken stricter measures in the case of the deserters, though."

"I was of the opinion that they had been punished enough–"

"Give them a finger and they take the whole hand, Zen. You will be present when they will be brought to court next month."

"Yes, brother."

There is a lesson buried here for sure, like always, something your brother wants to show you; wants you to understand. But right now, you cannot feel anything else but the sudden, breath-catching absence of something you have carried around all summer, something you were not even sure was real and yet felt like it was suffocating you slowly and gently. Now–

Now, you can finally breathe again.

When you say it, you realize you mean it with your whole heart. "I will do better next time, I swear. You will not regret placing responsibility on me, brother."

Of course, Izana goes and destroys the moment within seconds, because elder brothers are like that. "Now run off. I am sure you have a lot you want to catch up on. And give my regards to Mitsuhide."

You glower at him, but it is possible that it lacks your usual venom.

"I will take my leave, then. Brother."

You are almost out of the door when his voice rings out again, soft this time. When you turn back, astonished, he does not smile. But his eyes are bright, and the warmth pooling somewhere in your chest is astounding.

"Good job, Zen. You did well."

Mitsuhide and Kiki are waiting when you leave your brother's office. They fall into step wordlessly, following you, reading the mood and not saying a word.

You know they are indispensable to you, have been since long already. But it is in moments like this one – when you feel depressed and ecstatic, confined and free at the same time – and they just are there and are quiet with you. It is moments like this one that make you realize how much you have come to rely on them: Kiki, always following quietly, serene and calm as the surface of a lake. Full of hidden depths, her warm kindnesses all the stronger for their rarity. And Mitsuhide, walking at your side and a step behind, always there, always loyal, Mitsuhide who would die for you, who wears his heart on his sleeve and his single-minded determination in his heart. Mitsuhide, who you trust with your life and everything you are.

Mitsuhide, whom Thalia had preferred to you.

(Second Prince, always and forever.)

Thalia. Thalia Namassos with her green eyes that shone with the sincerity of her smile. She'd been beautiful, she'd been perfect, and she hadn't been anything you could ever hold onto. The truth of is it simple, and devastating: she had not loved you, had been in love with someone else. But she also would never have been yours, in no way possible. And the thought… Hurts. It presses down onto your chest like an invisible weight, contracts in the confines of your rib cage and makes it so, so hard to breathe. These are not butterflies, these are stones of grieving acceptance and shredded shards of denial that you will carry with you until you learn to live with it. Maybe, maybe, one day it will turn into a warm, fond memory, but that day is far off and you refuse to think of it. The pressure is ever-present, each breath agony.

Maybe tomorrow.

Mitsuhide: who looks at you with an odd mix of emotions in his eyes, half regret, half guilt and something else you cannot decipher. But it is Mitsuhide. Being angry at him is like being angry at yourself. The sorrow in your Sword's face mirrors the sorrow in your own heart.

You punch him, without warning.

Usually, Mitsuhide flinches, and folds, and huffs. It is for appearance, mostly, and you appreciate it when he does it. But he does not just stand there, today, but catches your fist.

"Stupid idiot!"

And smiles at your insult.

"Your schedule has opened up, now that Prince Izana is back," he offers, apparently out of nowhere, but of course he knows exactly the right thing to say and to do. "It has been some time since you last inspected Raxd…"

"You could also visit Celeg again," Kiki adds. And, because she is as cold as ice: "I am sure Mitsuhide would like to return to his home base again, too."

The ghost of emotion that flits across Mitsuhide's face makes you smile.

"Indeed," you nod. "It has been some time since I've been there, too. I'm sure my Royal Brother would appreciate an update on their status."

Kiki's face is impassive, as always. "I think that is a very good idea."

"Great!" You stretch your arms over your head, feel your shoulders strain. The pressure on your chest does not lighten, but. Maybe. Tomorrow. "We'll be leaving tomorrow at dawn."

"Maybe he won't be there," Mitsuhide mutters. "Maybe he's out."

You exchange an amused glance with Kiki. "Maybe."

Your heart still aches. But you have them, at least.

Celeg is beautiful in the morning light.

But then, Celeg is beautiful no matter the time of the day or the season. Kiki and Zen would laugh at you, but this is the place that feels even more like home than the place you were born in.

Zen, finally able to leave the castle after almost a year of confinement, is like a different person. Calm, relaxed and even funny, the few times he speaks, he seems to have left all his anxiety and depression behind. Only now and then, on your early-morning ride, his melancholy simmers through his mask. This is the prince you got to know, the one you found underneath the layers and layers of dutiful devotion, polite strength and iron composition: the prince with his endless optimism, boundless energy and a loyal streak as wide as the kingdom he is second to the throne to, with his honest nature and his open feelings that encompass everything and everyone and that make him so utterly beautiful. The prince you learned to love. The prince you have sworn to follow, no matter where and how.

"Are you coming, Mitsuhide?"

Zen and Kiki are waiting, bright-eyed. They do not look similar at all, but to you, they are two sides of the same thing that you've vowed to protect with the last beat of your failing heart.

And aren't you poetic today?

It is Celeg, you think, the sight of the place that had been your refuge from the day on your parents abandoned you, somewhere on the plains. The place where you learned to fight. The place where you carved out a small place for yourself, which led you to Castle Wistalia, which led you to Zen. The place that formed you so you could find what you finally have found. Granted: much, much later than you had hoped to, but forever. Your home.

It is with Zen.

Serving him is what you do, what you wish for and what you are. Some people have reasons to live: you have a life to protect.

It is this that Celeg reminds you off.

You smile, and continue on to where your prince and your partner are waiting.

"What took you so long?" Zen asks as you reach them. "Did you commune with the view, or something? I can have someone paint a picture of the garrison and you can put it up in your room and look at it whenever you feel like it."

"We've got time," Kiki says, and first it sounds like she is supporting you, and then you see the tiny smirk playing around her lips. "Sometimes, Mitsuhide simply is a bit slow on the uptake, after all."

"Like he never realizes when someone is in love with him?" Zen asks, sarcastically.

The silence that follows is… painful.

In it, you can hear the wind in the trees, the cry of a bird of prey in the distance. Your own, frantic heartbeat. Now. Nobody except for Kiki had said anything, and you had hoped – But no. Of course he knew, Zen was not stupid. In fact, you would have been the stupid one if you had thought, even for a second, that he had not noticed. And he has every right to be angry, even if it is not logical, has every right to hate you just for being there. So you steel yourself, lift your eyes to look at him–

And Zen looks like he wants to disappear.

Oh.

Your face twists into a pained grimace as your mind changes gears within seconds. "Are we already joking about this?"

Zen looks like he wishes he had never opened his mouth and you hate it, hate it, there is no way he should feel guilty about this, he should be the one angry at you-

And Kiki – Kiki, the traitor, wonderful, amazing Kiki – Kiki laughs.

And slowly – slowly, slowly – the terrified expression on Zen's face fades, replaced by a smile. A small one, twisted, too, flush with pain and insecurity and heartbreak. But a smile, nonetheless, and you could weep with joy at its sight.

"I have no idea what she sees in you," Zen says, his voice cracking slightly. And your heart contracts with love for this brave, strong boy who picks himself up again and again, no matter what, and soldiers on: royal, indeed. "Of the two of us, I definitely am the better-looking one."

Kiki nods, her face impassive, but something flashes in her eyes and your heart… twists. "I agree."

"I do not know what this is about," Vice commander Lugis voice says, behind you.

You pretend to be surprised.

You do not need to pretend the dislike that flashes over your face but you temper it, melt it down until it is just slightly too warm to be comfortable, harmless and just barely bearable.

"But if the Prince and Lady Kiki agree that Sir Mitsuhide is wrong, then I agree with them, of course."

Zen looks like he wants to laugh, and that way, all of this is worth it.

The morning sun greets you.

But it does not carry the desperate heat it carried just a few weeks back anymore; is just strong enough to warm your skin and paint the gardens and the white marble walls of Castle Wistalia, and. It is a new day, and that… is good.

A smile, a greeting.

"Good morning, Kiki!"

Mitsuhide is a morning person. Zen is absolutely not. You… You don't know what you are, exactly. There is still so much you need to figure out, so much to learn: small things, like the food you like and the things you enjoy in your pastime. And the larger things; the things that define you. The things that you are. Because this has eluded you, so far: you still feel like you are a loose collection of other people's hopes and expectations, ready to fall apart at any moment. Lady Kiki Seiran, future heiress, daughter, marriage interest. Puzzle piece in a game of power and wealth. You are a woman, a future mother, a pretty face, a womb to carry the heirs of one blood line or another. Sometimes, people even see more than your face, your body and your status; Hisame, in a way, even acknowledged your intelligence and your swordsmanship. But nobody has accepted you as unconditionally as Zen and Mitsuhide have.

Your partner is not deterred at your refusal to answer.

Two years and he knows you, probably does so better than your own father. It is strange how it happens; that people go from strangers to acquaintances to – partners. Oh, and there it is again: that knowledge, bone-deep and final.

If it will be anyone, you think, it will be you, Mitsuhide.

You are not quite ready to deal with what that means, and what it will change. Probably everything. Perhaps nothing.

"I am on my way to the training halls," he continues, and your strides synchronize. For each one of his, you need almost two steps, but inexplicably, it works. He probably never notices. "Are you going there, too?"

You nod. He beams.

"Fancy a spar?"

It feels like you have not squared off in a long time.

This summer was so full of training and work and even after the Crown Prince returned, the few outings from the palace – an inspection of the Western border, a quick trip to visit the homes of the Lords of the Council – feel like they were ages ago, and far too short. Already, the wind is cool on your heated face, the first leaves turning gold and red. But the humid summer heat, the night breeze from the ocean and the heavy scent of the wisteria – those are the things you want to remember, want to burn into your memory and then forget it all. These days with Zen in the halls of Castle Wistalia, in his office; the sound of the pen and rustling pages the only things heard. And nights of sitting at the open window of your room, enjoying the cool breeze, or meeting up with Mitsuhide after hours to review and discuss the plans for the next days. These are the things you will remember when you are back home, bound to Evergreen Manor and imprisoned in your duties as the heiress of the Seiran family: this summer spent with the two people you love most.

"Weapons?"

"Your choice."

"Swords."

He grins at you, a reckless, familiar grin that makes your heart beat speed up and your blood rush faster.

"I will beat you today."

You feel a smirk stretch your lips, uncalled for and not unwelcome. "You can try."

A ritual; a game. An endless challenge. Two years ago, when you first came to the palace, you fought when nobody could risk losing. Now, you are almost equal; in one year, you suspect, you will be able to fight for hours without anyone gaining advantage. But that does not matter, anyway: you do not fight Mitsuhide for the sake of victory.

Today, too, you spar.

Fighting Mitsuhide is like dancing, like flying: flashing steel and singing swords, eternity enclosed into the space that is made up of the two of you only. Minutes compressed into heartbeats. In your hands, the worn leather of your sword feels alive; the air tastes like crystals in your lungs, clear and brilliant. You could spar with him forever: Mitsuhide. He smiles, ferally–

"Oh no! PRINCE ZEN!"

A soldier's voice cuts through the silence and Mitsuhide falters, a mere heartbeat, the fraction of a second–

"Go, Kiki!"

And you dive through your partner's defense and sweep out his feet from under him.

He springs back within seconds, looking both indignant and sheepish, casting a glance to his right. "That's not funny, Zen!"

The second prince is watching you from the window ledge, his legs stretched out in front of him. And he is grinning, widely. "You should have seen your face!"

Mitsuhide, unable to hold a grudge, grumbles. "I don't understand why Kiki goes along with this."

And.

Your heart. Just. You would give it away, except - you cannot. It is his already.

You have the dim notion that this will hurt, someday, that the soft warmth you feel pressing against your rib cage will turn into something vicious, painful and cold. But right now, it makes you smile.

"A victory is a victory," you say, desperately trying to keep your face straight.

Your partner looks at you, sighs. Looks at Zen, looks back at you. Sees both his grin and your poker-face, and sighs, again.

Smiles.

"Okay. So what's the plan for today?"

Your prince looks at Mitsuhide with an expression of vague shouldn't you be the one knowing this. "Shouldn't you be the one knowing this?"

Mitsuhide sighs again, and Zen laughs.

If you need to be anything, you think, distantly, you might as well be this: the Kiki they know. The Kiki that lives and breathes with them, in this castle, this time. The Kiki who shares the days with them, the duties, the work – but also the laughter, the happiness. You can be her: the Kiki they know; and treasure. You can be this person with everything it entails: the work and the fun, the good and the bad. This is who you want to be.

Who you are, for now, at least.

With that one smile and that one laugh you feel your heart expand, feel it rise towards the sky like a bird in flight; soar over the ocean and into the blue. And, for the first time in your life, you hope that it will never return.