CHAPTER 5
Her new position was a welcome change and Takara found herself thoroughly enjoying the work. She no longer spent her days in the kitchen; she was now an interior decorator, though her focus was on the floral arrangements and more specifically Izana's.
She was attempting to put him from her mind. Word of Haki's visit spread like wildfire and she knew the engagement was nearly set in stone. The woman would not come all this way for a pleasure visit. In all likelihood the official announcement would be made and Takara felt the need to rid herself of her small fondness before it happened. It would not do to be bound by the heart to a man who was to be married.
He was making it difficult to forget him though. In the last two days he'd sent her gifts that she tried, and failed, to refuse. A robe made of silk and a hair ornament, both lovely but nothing she required.
Izana would not take them back, claimed that her insistence was an insult to his character and sent her away dissatisfied. She feared that she would mistake this attention, that she would begin to see feelings that weren't there and hope for impossible things, but nothing she'd said dissuaded him. She supposed this was his way of expressing friendship and decided to do her best with his demonstrations of friendly affection.
She could never allow herself to forget that this was simply a difference in upbringing. His generosity was an admirable trait, but it meant nothing except that he regarded her fondly and that was just a mark of friendship. If she'd been able she supposed that she, too, would have given him keepsakes; as it was she'd decided to return his kindness with something hand made.
An embroidered handkerchief, she could manage that much. She'd never had much opportunity for indulging in leisure activities like that, her handiwork was more in line with patching trousers and reattaching hoods to capes, but she'd done her best to stitch a tree and small flowers. Certainly it wasn't elaborate or expensive, but she thought it appropriate. He would not misread her feelings with a gift as simple as this.
The thought of giving it to him made her frown though. Despite telling herself that it meant little she was acutely aware that she'd never given a present to anyone. This was the first time and it seemed she couldn't help placing significance behind the action.
"It does not matter," she murmured, shaking her head. Whether she felt more, or felt nothing at all, her circumstances would not be changed. She did not match Izana in any way; though she'd yet to meet Haki she knew the woman was well liked by those in the castle and, from the way the workers spoke, it seemed she was fondly looked upon by the entire kingdom.
Takara's eyes watered as her thoughts moved forward, into the future. She would not be able to stay, she knew she wouldn't. It would be best to begin planning her departure sooner rather than later.
The things she told herself notwithstanding, she recognized that her tender feelings for Izana would grow if she remained in his presence. He was too interesting, too beautiful a person, and to know that he would marry another was more of a burden than she could expect to bear.
For now she had her place and she would put away her pay, prepare to leave and live on her own once more. Even so, she did not think she could leave Wistal immediately. Clarines had proven to be a safe country and Wistal... Well, she'd never felt so comfortable before and Shirayuki's presence, though they were not close, helped to put her mind at ease. The red haired woman had been successful in this country, surely she would be able to do the same.
With those thoughts in mind she tied off the final thread and cut the string. It was finished. Two days of stitching and she didn't think she had much to brag about, but it was the best she could do. Now, she just had to get it to him.
Her work hours had shortened and yet her pay remained the same. It was a strange idea to her, but no complaint would pass her lips. It was good to broaden her horizons with different occupations, especially considering that she would be on her own once again, likely sooner rather than later.
Takara shook her head. The idea of leaving would not be uprooted, but dwelling on it did no good.
She left the lodging house to wander the grounds. She'd found this was the best way to meet with Izana; it seemed that if she strolled long enough he would eventually appear. Whether it was coincidence or his own spies sent to watch her she didn't know, but she wouldn't have put the former past him.
Izana was someone she could not easily describe or understand. In many ways she thought him cold, perhaps capable of making ruthless decisions, and yet his friendship meant the world to her. How was it possible to be so complex as that? She was almost frightened of him, but at the same time felt a mystifying sense of confidence that she need not fear him.
That was wrong. She should have been terrified of him and the way he'd taken hold of her heart, yet there she was hoping he would find her once again, so she could give him a gift she'd put time and effort into creating.
There had to be something wrong with her. No one of sound mind would pursue any type of relationship with a would-be king whom everyone knew would soon be engaged to a beautiful, kind, intelligent woman. Haki, whomever she was, sounded like the perfect match.
Again Takara was reminded of her need to leave. She tried not to think of it, dwelling on so sad a prospect couldn't be healthy, but it seemed that with every passing moment it became more imperative that she take her leave permanently.
/~/
Izana did indeed find her as she walked the garden. He thought it amusing that she'd not realized her tendency to move in view of his office window; he would not tell her of this for fear she would think herself a disturbance and stop taking that path.
Instead he pretended that it was a happy accident, as though he'd not been unproductive for the last several hours and whittling away his time wishing she would come to him.
It was the wrong way to feel and he knew it, but he could not help the warmth that grew in his heart or the softening of his eyes when he caught sight of her. Truly he loved her and this feeling would not be gotten rid of; he did not want to do away with it, even if it were possible. Though he compared it to his love for Zen, the way he felt for Takara was brand new and would never be duplicated. He was certain that he would not love this way again.
He'd sent the guards away before he reached her side, something he didn't tell her, and together they strolled along the stone walkways without any clear destination.
He would have taken her hand, wanted to pull her beneath the bare tree and hold her close once more, but the knowledge of their reality forbid it. She was not to be his, though he desperately wished she would choose to be. He would not deny her.
Whatever she wanted he would give to her. Did she realize that? he wondered. Did she know how completely she owned him?
He wanted to tell her, more than once during their walk he thought of saying it. When she nearly tripped and he caught her by the elbow the words were on the tip of his tongue. When she thrust her gift toward him, blushing madly and refusing to meet his gaze, he nearly crumbled and confessed. When she left him with a smile that did not reach her eyes his hands twitched, aching to reach out and pull her back.
He resisted, but did not know for how long he would be able to endure. It was torturous to have her there, right beside him, yet unaware of his feelings and how did she feel?
He had to know. He would tell her.
This could not go on.
/~/
She felt uneasy.
Izana had sent her a note, different from those she'd received before. Instructions he'd given, but they seemed strange to her. What good could come of a clandestine meeting in the dead of night? None. Surely there were more appropriate times available.
She sighed. His schedule was known to be hectic and tightly packed, yet he'd never asked this of her before. He had moments when he wished for them, so why was she creeping through the grounds feeling like a thief who was sure to be caught?
Takara would have screamed had he not covered her mouth. Out from the darkness his hand reached, securing itself over the lower half of her face and her jerk of fear cut him to the core. He laughed anyway, but he honestly felt bad for scaring her so dreadfully.
"You- you-," she panted as though she'd just finished running a mile. "You-!"
"I'm sorry."
"You aren't!"
Her violet eyes were wide, angry and upset, but he thought she'd never looked more beautiful and, in light of the decisions he'd made, did not try to stop his hands from putting themselves on her cheeks to cradle her face.
"I am sorry."
Takara had little more than a second to process what he was doing and then his lips met her forehead. She felt that she could hardly breathe. What was this now? On top of everything else he did this to her?
The words left her mouth without permission. "I will mistake your feelings." To her horror she heard her voice waver and felt moisture collecting in her tear ducts. Crying would be unforgivable! She refused to cry!
"You will not for I will make it impossible."
They would not be overheard, whatever was said would stay between the two of them. He'd made certain to position the guard in such a way as to keep them far from this place. No one knew he was meeting Takara, that he was about to speak things that may well be better left unsaid.
For her part Takara was inconsolable. She'd resolved not to cry, but the tears were falling despite her silent resolution. Was it happiness or sadness? A mixture of both, she decided, but despair was quickly becoming the predominate emotion. Whatever he said next would not change their circumstances.
"Izana," she could hardly speak his name.
"-denka."
"Eh?" she pulled back slightly, only to find that his tightened grip wouldn't allow it.
"If you want to leave, address me properly."
Her face grew hot, tears vanishing in the wake of this new annoyance. "That is deviant behavior!" she accused.
"What exactly, if you don't mind telling me darling, is deviant about demanding respect?"
'Darling'. That sounded far too wonderful; this was impossible. "That isn't for respect, it's, it's... Because you're perverse!"
He couldn't fully suppress his laughter and her discomfort made it all the more difficult. He was forced to muffle the sound with her hair. When he regained control of his voice he said, "There is nothing perverse about– Well, perhaps that isn't true," and held fast when she jolted. He could imagine the look on her face. Aghast, surely. Perhaps a tiny bit pleased, though she would never admit to it. "What is true is my love for you."
He felt the change in her posture.
"Ah," his tone was one of sorrow, resignation. "You do not believe me."
She felt the tears returning to her eyes. "I have heard the same many times before."
"Have I not shown you how I feel? Have I not expressed my love for you in actions?"
"You may think so," she paused, blinked away droplets that insisted on forming. "And yet you will marry another." She could hardly speak the words; his silence was answer enough. "Yes. See? As many before desired, so too do you. To keep me while legally bound to another."
"I will never force you to do anything, not even stay. I would humble myself, bow before you and beg you to change your mind, but I would not use my power to keep you. It is my duty to be wed."
"So it is, but I will be no party to adultery. Will your wife not expect to be loved by her husband? If and when you take a bride I will leave." His grasp slackened, allowed her to break away and step back.
"You would reduce me to pleading? I am many things, but a liar is not one of them. If you intend to leave I will make a fool of myself before whomever may be present!"
"Izana, you of all people know that words are not enough. Gifts are nothing. I will not be made a fool of and no woman you marry deserves that fate either. To be looked upon by everyone as a mere mistress, to be seen as an unloved bride... No. I will have none of that."
"Why must it be known?" Even as the words left his mouth he knew that it would be impossible to hide such a thing for long.
"How could it not? Are you no better than the vile men who've tried to have me, who would put me away, hidden from view to visit when they felt the stirrings of desire? I should hope you are not. But, if you are, then you are not the man I thought you were."
He could say nothing to stop her, could not find the strength to reach out, as she left. It was as she'd said. He was asking the worst things of her and he could not fault her for speaking the words. What she said was truth, but it cut him deeply.
He'd confessed his love and she'd not told him how she felt.
/~/
Takara spent the night in the throws of desperation, her mind alternating between extremes. She was tempted to pack her things, leaving behind the gifts Izana had given her, and run. Another side, one she could hardly stand to acknowledge, wanted to compromise her beliefs and remain.
It was imperative now. She would leave as soon as she was able, giving herself no chance to make such a terrible choice as that. She'd meant what she said; she refused to be the intruder in a marriage. She would not sink to those depths.
Haki did not deserve that, no woman did, and she wouldn't allow her heart to get in the way of her head. Whether Izana truly loved her or not didn't matter, he would marry the head of the Academy District. She could hardly begin to think of his reasons for suggesting something so improper and considered that his 'love' may well be simple lust.
That was painful, but it could be true.
Whatever the case she would not remain much longer and for the few days she stayed she would not see him. She would do her work and nothing more.
Night passed into morning and Takara spent the hours planning her departure. Upon the start of the work day she told her supervisor that she would soon be leaving her post permanently. The surprise was visible, but she was not questioned and her request was accepted.
Upon finishing the day's labor she made a return to the kitchen where she was met, with much enthusiasm, by Suzuki who was devastated to hear that she would be leaving. Takara managed to get away with a promise from Aio-san of a letter of recommendation.
That was all she was waiting on. The moment that note came into her possession she would leave and she'd given strict instruction that word of this was not to spread. Even Suzuki was persuaded, by the seriousness with which she implored, to remain mum.
"I wish you would not, Takara."
Tearful eyes played on her heartstrings, but she would not be moved.
"I must."
/~/
Izana was experiencing an acute case of heartache. He'd not seen hide nor hair of Takara for two days, had not received a missive from her in the usual way, and he couldn't find it in himself to open a dialogue. He'd said his piece, such as it was, and he could do nothing but wait for her to speak to him again.
His abstraction was well hidden. His work was completed to it's normal perfection and the plans for Haki's arrival were moving forward. It had been announced to the staff that his coronation was to come and plans were being made. This visit of Haki's was formal, not to technically announce an engagement, but it would serve as a step in that direction. When she appeared with himself and his family following the enthronement, the people would know that she was to be his wife.
He did not want it, yet could see no way around the plan. Haki was everything that the wife of a king should be. Not noble, but held in high regard and conventionally beautiful. They got along well enough. His people would be glad to call her queen.
And yet she was not the one he desired and he admitted that it had become impossible for him to love her; Izana doubted that even friendship could be achieved. Would she forgive him this? How could she, when he could not forgive himself?
Forgiveness was not something he could ask of her; he would never deserve it.
He sat alone in his office as the hour grew late and the air cooled. He didn't notice it as he began to shiver, the fire had long ago died out and he'd not had even the will to light the oil lamp upon his table. Instead he sat, wallowing in his misery, until the doors burst open.
He stood in shock, prepared to draw his sword, when he recognized the one who'd entered. "Mother!" he could not contain his surprise. "You were not to arrive for two months yet."
The look upon her face silenced him and he could do nothing as she ordered the fire lit; the others were then sent away with the wave of her hand. The woman in question wasted no time with pleasantries. "How could I keep away when my first born was in such suffering that he wrote to me, telling me of his pain?"
His face colored in embarrassment. He'd hoped the letter failed to reach her, that it had somehow been destroyed, but his silent pleas for mercy went unheeded.
"Izana," she stepped forward. "You will listen to me now without interruption. I will believe nothing that comes out of your mouth if it is contrary to what you wrote. I felt honesty in those words and, my son whom I love you, are being a fool." She held up a hand when he made to speak. "No! You will be silent. To what purpose do you pursue this girl when she has told you that she will refuse you? Why do you torment both she and yourself this way? You fail to see the truth, Izana. You, and Takara, will labor under depression should you continue this path. Is that what the people of Clarines deserve?" She noted his change of expression; it was subtle, but to the eyes of his mother it meant everything. "To have a king who is not in love with his queen, who will always pine for another? Do you think you can do your best work under those conditions? I do not. I know you cannot, though you would try." She shook her head and stepped forward. "Izana. You are making the wrong choice. I understand the way you are thinking, but you have made an error in judgment."
He could hardly accept what she was telling him. He understood that the words she spoke were true, but he'd told himself differently for many weeks.
"Izana," she recalled his attention when she realized that he was working to deny what she'd said. "It would be wrong to marry Haki. I know it was planned, at the time it seemed like a wonderful match, but if she is not the one you love then do not do her the disservice of being wed to a man who can never care for her properly. I'm sure that you feel duty bound to marry someone of status, but to what purpose? That is not one of our laws." She reached out, put her hand to his cheek. "You have no excuse and you must do what is right. I'm sure you're concerned about the reception of the people, but what would make them happier? To see their King well loved or to know that he is missing another?"
She had pulled his hollow arguments away and there was nothing he could say in his own defense. His mother had always been direct, she never minced words, and he knew her judgment was sound.
This would be an unpleasant conversation to have with Haki, but he saw now that it must be done; in fact, he wondered how he'd been so blind. In the light of his mother's honesty his own dark plans seemed all the worse. How could he have thought Takara so weak as to cave to his pleadings? She was of strong mind and her convictions were not easily altered. She would never be with him if he insisted on marrying Haki and he'd been an idiot to hope otherwise.
That was bad enough, but to have misjudged his people so abysmally was just as horrible. They would not begrudge their King's happiness if he married the one he loved, however they would find it difficult to stomach a man who married one while spending his nights with another, as they should.
All in all he'd been a complete moron.