Chapter 4

"And yes, I would love a cup of tea," she added, coming through the door and finding that – yes, she could fit very easily. It was a bit odd though, going through: being small on one side and large on the other and nothing but a spell in between.

"Milk or lemon?"

"That depends entirely on the tea," Haru answered, taking a seat by the fireplace and laying her bag down by her feet. "Some blends need milk, others benefit from lemon. What flavour of tea is it?"

"My own personal blend," answered the doll, handing her a cup and setting out a tray of customary additives on the coffee table that sat neatly between the two fireside chairs. Milk, lemon, sugar, and more hot water – in case it was too strong or became cold. "I even grew the leaves myself."

Haru breathed in the scent of the scalding hot drink, and appreciated the pattern on the cup while she waited for it to cool to a temperature that wouldn't burn her tongue. It was delightfully painted, but it wasn't the traditional floral or repeated pattern around the rim that is the usual of teacups. Instead, it was men playing cricket, wearing the whites of a test match.

Prepared to accept that the tea might have cooled enough for her to drink it safely, she tasted it. Surprised, she tasted it again.

"The finest tea that I have ever tasted," she declared quietly. "All it needs to be the very best, I think, is a drop of milk," the young woman added, adding the prescribed dose of cool white liquid. Tasting the now slightly altered drink, she sighed, closing her large brown eyes in contentment. "Perfect," she said.

Baron smiled. He didn't need to know anything else about her; she had just proved to him that she was a lady of taste and refinement whatever else she may also be.

Of course, while he didn't need to know any more, he very much wanted to.

"You said you saved a cat prince," he began. It was safe conversation starter – her reason for coming to him, and would not be considered prying. "Might I ask, why, how and which one?"

Haru smiled over her teacup.

"Of course," she answered, a gleam in her eye at the slight tease. Normally she wouldn't be so playful in conversation, normally she wouldn't converse, but his accent made her want to talk, so that she could hear his voice again. "But would you mind if I answered in the reverse order? It will make more sense I think."

He nodded in acquiescence, and Haru began the tale.

"It was Prince Lune. I was heading back home with a bag full of brand new paints, when I saw him looking up and down the street – the way children are taught to look out for traffic – then, he started to cross. I see an ambulance come screaming down the street, and I know the cat is going to get hit if he doesn't move fast, but he's still just trotting calmly across. So I run, grab him by that bit of skin at the back of his neck, and we're on the other side of the street just as the ambulance whips past. As for why I did it… At the time it was just: I'm not going to let that dumb cat get itself killed by a vehicle meant for saving lives. It's a long thought for a split-second decision I suppose, and not incredibly delicate, but that's all it was. I wasn't going to let something stupid turn into irony for the ill-bred."

Haru leant back and took another sip of tea. That had been more long-winded that she was used to, and she had been screaming people's ears off earlier in the day. It felt almost like a lifetime ago, that it had all happened. Perhaps it was the soothing, slightly otherworldly feeling of sitting in the interior of The Cat Bureau.

"You seem to have had quite the day, Miss Yoshioka," Baron said, also relaxing into his high, wing-backed chair, though his emerald green eyes danced with contained mirth. "What ever will you do, now that the excitement of it all has been escaped?"

"I'm an artist, Baron von Gikkingken. I need peace, not excitement," Haru answered. Completely straight, not stern or laughing; she hadn't noticed the mirth in the eyes of her host; she was too busy staring at the dancing flames in the fireplace.

"A painter, yes? You said you had just bought some paint when you spotted Lune," Baron replied, continuing the conversation, leaving his private joke for a private moment.

"That's right. I had to leave my work behind, the king broke through my front door and I had to climb down from my bedroom balcony."

There was sadness in her voice, a longing and regret, much like there had been in Baron's when he had said that the people had forgotten about him, and he understood.

"If you like, we can retrieve some," he offered. He had put his tea down and moved to wrap two gloved hands around one of hers.

"That's very sweet, but no. His majesty has probably already taken them all hostage, and if he hasn't, then my neighbours will raid my house for their favourites. I always mean to make gifts of them, or sell them, but then I just pile them up and… No, let them be taken out into the world. Besides, it would be too risky for me to go back," Haru answered, turning her attention from the fireplace to his very green eyes. His very green, very sincere, very kind and earnest eyes.

He nodded his understanding.