The Second Masque

"First things first – the guest list," Atobe sighed.

Yuushi made no objects as he and Atobe quietly urged their horses through the long reeds beside a pond they happened upon in their wanderings. Yuushi had expressed concerns they were trespassing, but Atobe waved his concerns off. He was Prince Atobe. All the Kingdom's lands were his lands, so how could be trespassing?

"You do know you have to invite your father, right?" Yuushi looked at Atobe out of the corner of his eye.

Atobe glared at Yuushi in the same way, his mouth turning down in a delicate pout. "Yes, I know I have to invite my father," he said neutrally, which only earned him a smirk from Yuushi. Damn the Lord and his insatiable appetite for being a smart-ass! "And I know I have to invite your father too. I'll even extend to the invitation to your dear sister," he smirked.

Yuushi turned his face to Atobe, his eyebrow's raising – the only sign he was shocked and not a little scared. He knew Atobe would go through with his threats, and Atobe intended too. He smiled back serenely at Yuushi, and the other man finally turned away, resigning himself to his punishment for being a smart-ass. Atobe only let him get with it for so long before retaliation was required.

"So, all the high ranking lords and ladies," Atobe murmured as he thought about it, nudging Kabaji as the animal snuck a reed for a snack as they plodded along.

"Don't forget to include all attending dignitaries with marriageable relatives or royalty," Yuushi cautioned.

"Must I?" Atobe wrinkled his nose.

The dignitaries were mostly pompous, egotistical brats in men's bodies. Inviting them to the ball so they could try to get him to marry people who weren't even there for Atobe to meet seemed ridiculous. But if he didn't, it could be taken as a slight to that dignitary's nation, and then Atobe would never hear the end of it. So, yes, the dignitaries were on the list – but he'd place them further back in the royal tent so he wouldn't have to listen to them chatter the entire time during dinner.

Yuushi scribbled something on a pad of paper with a piece of charcoal, easily guiding his mount with his legs. The animal was to well trained to do anything but follow Yuushi's silent signals. Atobe had always been amazed at Yuushi's ability to multi-task, but he supposed attempting to keep up with him over the years had made the ability invaluable.

"What about…" Yuushi paused to cough. "What about Sir Sakaki?"

Atobe stiffened and looked over Yuushi as if he had just admitted he planned to murder Atobe in his sleep that very night. Yuushi just leveled his own gaze Atobe, waiting patiently.

Sir Sakaki– also known as Sakaki of the Black Wood – was, for all intents and purposes, Atobe's godfather. Sakaki held no rank and no valuable title, but he held a great deal of respect from people within the kingdom, including his father. No one knew Sakaki's real age, though everyone knew he had been Shishido's teacher since he was young, which meant he was at least in his forties or older, but looked in his early thirties. Rumors surrounded him, mostly due to his high degree of secrecy. He only appeared at Royal functions he was specifically called by Shishido, and the only times in Atobe's memory those had been was for Atobe's eighth birthday (when he was formally introduced to his Godfather), and when Atobe had been around thirteen and near calamity had fallen when a slighted dignitary cried potential war. Whatever Sakaki had said or done alleviated the problem, and the Kingdom was left in peace. Outside of his appearances, Sakaki remained in his holdings towards the northeast, a dark forest to the back of his lands, commonly known as the Black Wood for its many black wood trees and old time tales of demons occupying it. No one knew what he did, though some suspected the worst of him, but so long as King Shishido made no complaints, there was nothing anyone could do.

For his part, Atobe didn't know what to make of the man. Shishido spoke nothing but praise for Sakaki, claiming it was he that had taught the King all he knew about swordsmanship and politics. Yet, the few times Atobe had met him, he was sure they wouldn't get along. Just as Shishido had his temper and Atobe had his ego, so did Sakaki carry this aura of obedience. If he spoke, he expected to be obeyed, and Atobe chaffed at that feeling.

But not inviting his own Godfather would be like a slap in the face of his own father and Sir Sakaki, which he suspected was a very bad idea indeed.

"Add him," Atobe finally agreed.

Yuushi scribbled the name down as their horses clip-clopped on.

"Now for the fun part!" Atobe grinned, though he knew the exact details of the guest list still needed to be worked out, but he would rather not think on politics at the moment. "We need to interrogate some of the minstrels in town and see if they know where the Tumbling Coin Circus is."

"The Tumbling Coin Circus?" Yuushi repeated with obvious distaste in his voice.

Atobe chuckled to himself. "Yes, the Circus! They are to be the main entertainers for the night. I want acrobats, clowns, fire breathers, sword swallowers – and elephants! We must have elephants!"

"Why elephants?" Yuushi muttered as he scribbled.

Atobe looked over at him. "Elephant rides to entertain my guests, of course! What else would I need them for?"

Yuushi clearly held back a smart-ass comment, and Atobe could only smirk at his friend. He so loved it when he dangled the man above a pit of snakes as he was now, with promises of inviting embarrassing family members to the party just for Yuushi.

"Oh, and make sure all the invitations inform guests my ball is a Masquerade," Atobe waved his hand idly. "Prizes shall be given for the best costumes, naturally."

"Excluding yourself, of course," Yuushi reminded Atobe.

Atobe sighed. "Fine, fine," he agreed, waving off the concern.

A strong wind suddenly whipped up, sending the reeds to whistling loudly, and Yuushi to crying out in alarm as the papers in his hands were ripped from his grasp. Atobe whirled, his eyes widening as he watched all his plans – no matter how rudimentary they might have been – billowing away merrily.

"After them!" he cried, turning Kabaji away from the pound and cracking his heels against his sides. He knew it was cruel, but his panic was overriding his sense of animal rights.

Unfortunately, it did not override Kabaji's. Normally a well-behaved and docile animal, he was used to handling small children kicking him, not a full-grown man like Atobe. His ears went back and he threw his head up in consternation, not appreciating the sudden pain in his gut. Atobe growled and squeezed with his thighs, the gentler form of coercion finally having the desired effect – though to late.

The wind had flung the papers into the large expanse of trees that ran along the pond, and while Atobe knew he could force Kabaji into the woods, he didn't think trying to find the papers from horseback would be productive since the animals were limited in the places they could go through said woods.

Growling his frustration, he dismounted from Kabaji swiftly and tossed the reins to the ground, Kabaji grinding to a halt and standing placidly facing the wood. Atobe thanked the gods for teaching the animal how to be ground tied as he dived into the wood, cursing as small branches scraped at his cheeks and caught in his clothing. Where were the papers?

He could hear Yuushi off to the side, combing the foliage like Atobe was. Atobe made a mental note to at least say thank you later, if he remembered, to Yuushi for not mocking him and coming to help. He knew in retrospect the act of looking for papers he could have just as easily had Yuushi rewrite the plans (the man remembered anything he wrote down), but it was the principle of the thing! He cursed as another branch scratched at his cheek, stinging more than it should have as he pushed aside bushes to see if the papers had gotten behind or beneath them.

He held back a cry of delight when he spotted one, diving for the page caught on a scraggly bush beneath the shadow of an ancient tree. He scooped up the page; a quick scan revealing it was part of the guest list pages, and folded it neatly to tuck in his vest.

Crunch.

"Yuushi, did you find the other pages?" he asked, turning to face his friend coming up behind him.

"So, these are yours then?"

The man that spoke was certainly not Yuushi.

Taking a short ride to steel himself for his meeting with Yukimura now that he was back home, Sanada waited in the shadows of the trees as he watched the two men bumbling through his forest. Both of them were dressed to well to be paupers, but from this distance their clothes might also be costumes. But that didn't make much sense either, since Sanada was not aware of any acting troupes in nearby areas. Yukimura might not keep him up to date on all Barony business, but Sanada managed to slip away to the town enough times on different pretenses to know when troupes did come in.

He looked down at the papers in his hands, the very sheets that had spooked his mount so much he had to dismount and tie the animal to tree branch and advance on foot. The papers carried lists of names and other random notes Sanada could only assume referred to some sort of party, though that was just his own guess. He recognized some of the names of the other lords and ladies of the land, and when the man with soft violet hair spotted one of the papers that had caught on foliage and practically dived for it like a hungry beggar on bread, Sanada figured they were nobility after all. That or thieves planning a heist, but that he doubted.

Making his way in a semi-circle around the violet haired man, he came up behind him, purposely crunching a pile of dead leaves beneath his boot. The man spun around, the relief on his face quickly fading as he realized Sanada was not his companion (named Yuushi, it would seem).

"You're looking for these, right?" Sanada said, holding the papers out to the man.

The man stared a moment, then quickly gathered his wits and straightened himself to his full height (which was, impressively, topping off at Sanada's chin). "Yes, they are mine," he glared at up a Sanada, his voice a mixture of upper scale enunciation and light baritones.

Sanada released the papers when the man took hold of them. "Might I ask what you are doing out here?" Sanada asked him, deciding it might be wise to be polite if the man had the ability to speak with the nobilities' rounded vowels.

The man sniffed, and Sanada caught sight of the blue-haired man approaching from the right cautiously. "I was taking a ride through my lands," he informed Sanada.

"Your lands?" Sanada repeated. "I was under the impression these lands belonged to the Tezuka Barony."

The blue-haired man (Yuushi, no doubt) slid next to the violet-haired man, pushing his glasses up. "The Tezuka Barony? I hadn't realized we'd come so far."

"Indeed," the violet haired man sniffed. "My condolences to his family. The Kingdom was saddened at the loss of a such a magnanimous Baron."

"Thank you," Sanada replied, keeping the growl from his voice. He had had enough condolences at the funeral ceremonies.

Yuushi's eyebrows rose. "Are you… you are the Heir-Baron, are you not? Sanada?"

Sanada pushed Yuushi up on his respect ladder. "I am," he replied, though if they new what his Regent had him doing they might not believe him. "And you are?"

The violet haired man bristled, as if Sanada's tone were insulting. "This is Lord Oshitari Yuushi, and I am Prince Atobe, Heir-Apparent of the Kingdom of Tenipuri."

The names came as a shock. Oshitari was the highest-ranking Duke in the country, and had even been present for his father's funeral. That his second son was here gave credence to the other man's claim of being Royal Prince Atobe. Sanada's eyes flickered towards the so-called Prince, taking the man in.

Tall for most people, he reached Sanada's chin, but for his height he was slim. His face was perfectly narrow, no doubt the product of good breeding, with a fine, delicate nose and full lips that did not look out of place upon his face. Almond eyes sparked in defiance as Sanada regarded him, a beauty mark sitting idly just beneath the corner of Prince Atobe's right eye. His violet hair was cropped short around his ears, but somehow teased into a sort of curve that gave it a noble air. Overall, Sanada was not impressed.

"Well, if you don't mind, please leave my lands," Sanada returned Prince Atobe's glare for glare. "You're officially trespassing."

The Prince seemed to choke on his own spit as Sanada's word's hit him, and was that his imagination or was Yuushi smirking ever so slightly. Shock turned to appall which turned to indignation, the emotions rolling over the Prince's face with abandon.

"I never-!" the Prince spluttered, an angry flush rising to his cheeks.

"If you wish to stroll along the pond, please ask next time," Sanada advised in attempt to soothe the Prince's rage. Sanada had been raised to believe to be polite to all, no matter your station in life. He did not hold Prince Atobe or Lord Yuushi above this basic belief.

Atobe glared up Sanada, fuming, but seemed to realize Sanada would not be intimidated by Atobe's title. His cheeks cooled and he sniffed, tucking the papers in his vest. "Come," he snapped his fingers and marched past Sanada.

Lord Yuushi hung back a moment, letting his eyes drift towards Sanada. "What sorts of flowers would you like sent to your funeral?" he asked with a smirk.

Sanada narrowed his eyes, but the Lord moved on, unfazed, to catch up to what Sanada no doubt guessed was his charge. It was not uncommon for the most powerful nobility to send their children to serve the royal family as guards and playmates, and he assumed Lord Yuushi served both roles.

He followed them discreetly to the edge of the wood, where two horses were waiting patiently, munching on the lush grass near the pond. The Prince marched up to the more dowdy of the beasts, mounting with obvious skill. Sanada gave the Prince a few more points for choosing a mount that did not attract attention to himself. The man appeared to have some brains after all. The Prince turned back towards the wood, throwing a final glare Sanada's way before urging his mount silently to turn back in the direction of the royal palace, just visible in the distance. If they hurried, they might just make it before the moon rose above the trees. It was that, or they would get lost.

Once they were out of sight, Sanada slipped back into the woods and remounted his own horse and turned to the animal back towards his home, his stomach roiling as he remember what was awaiting him there.

"You're late."

Sanada winced beneath Yukimura's stare, and Yukimura took silent, malicious pleasure in that. It was not often he managed to procure such a reaction for the young Baron, and when he did it sent a thrill down Yukimura's spine.

He stood while Sanada knelt on the tatami mats before him. For a few moments he regarded his former lover's son, then glided forward and ran a hand through his hair. Sanada made no movement, and a pity for it.

"You know what I want," Yukimura murmured.

His hand withdrew, and Sanada rose from his kneeling position. He had a good six inches on Yukimura, his gaze indifferent as he stared down at Yukimura. Silently, he stripped himself of his clothing, and Yukimura took a moment to drink in the sight of Sanada.

Tall, but well proportioned, Sanada was broad of shoulder and chest, with a flat abdomen and well defined muscles that would make any man jealous. His skin was tanned from the time he spent outside, nicked here and there with scars from falls and scratches, but that gave him a sort of roguish quality. His face was chiseled, with a broad nose that fit the formation of his face, and thin lips that only made him handsome rather than undesirable. He kept his black hair strictly cut around his ears and the nape of his neck, a difference from his father who let his hair grow to the same length, but made no attempts to tame it.

Sanada silently moved towards Yukimura's bed, and Yukimura followed as soon as he too had shed his clothing. He slid onto the bed with Sanada, running his hands over the tanned skin, always amazed at how warm the future Baron felt beneath his palms.

He leaned over Sanada's face, staring down at him, finding nothing in the dark depths of his eyes.

Ignoring the pain that produced somewhere inside Yukimura's chest, he bent his head and pressed their lips together, letting himself forget.

It was a little over an hour later that Yukimura lay in his bed, the sheets rumpled around his waist. His back was turned to Sanada as the bigger man dressed and prepared to leave, neither of them saying anything.

This was how it always was. Yukimura found an excuse to summon Sanada to a private talk, but rarely did they talk. They settled into a pattern – each undresses, goes to the bed, they have sex, and then Sanada leaves. He no longer waited for permission. He knew Yukimura's presented back as the only words of dismissal he would could.

Yukimura did not turn when he heard the door to his room clap shut quietly. He continued to lie on his side, staring at the wall where his shuttered window allowed strips of light to infiltrate his room. After a few moments of regarding the window, Yukimura rose, not bothering to dress, and opened the shutter, letting the warm sunshine beat over his skin.

His eyes drifted over the sea of green that greeted him – a lush garden that was well kept by some of the best gardeners in the Kingdom, and beyond that the forest Kunimitsu had so loved. At that thought of the deceased Baron, Yukimura turned from the window and lay back down on what had once been their bed.

He pressed his face to the sheets, breathing deeply. He could smell Sanada's scent, a mixture of sweat, hay, and something just beneath it he couldn't identify, but made him think of spices. Tezuka had smelled something like this. Tezuka had smelled of paper and ink, mixed with the subtle scent of hay and his garden. It had been intoxicating to Yukimura – he often spent his nights his nose pressed to Tezuka's neck, breathing in his sweet smell while they slept.

What would Tezuka say if he knew Yukimura was sleeping with his son? Yukimura felt some guilt each time he took Sanada to his bed, but he knew he couldn't stop.

He'd first taken Sanada to bed the night after Tezuka's funeral. Despite what he knew Sanada thought, he had dearly loved Tezuka. He had not expected to come to love the Baron as he had, but he did. His plan had been to seduce Tezuka, to secure himself a place within his household, and gain a better life for his children that they would never have otherwise. He never expected the seduction to turn into love, and to have it reciprocated.

Yukimura, to be honest, had never believed he would find someone to love in this life. Before he'd come to the Barony, Yukimura had been the son of a merchant whose business was going under thanks to his father's gambling debts. In a desperate attempt to save the business, Yukimura's father arranged a marriage with a very minor Baronet's daughter. It was a clear testament to the family's own desperateness that the Baronet agreed to the marriage, and so Yukimura found himself wed to Miss Sana Ryuma at the age of seventeen. Needless to say, their marriage was a disaster.

There was no love lost between them, and none to be cultivated. Sana was a spoiled brat, and clearly not pleased about being forced to be Yukimura's wife. As a way to spite Yukimura, she refused to take care of the matters a wife was supposed to tend to, and Yukimura refused to have a shoddily run household. He therefore picked up her slack, and avoided her as often as he could.

Their union further deteriorated when his wife decided that she would not let Yukimura into her bed, and snuck out at night to visit her miscreant of a lover. Stupid as his wife was, she took no herbs to prevent what naturally happened when they tumbled in the hay – she got pregnant. Yukimura told her father they were his, but he knew the Baronet didn't believe him.

Nine months later, this was proven when Miss Sana gave birth to twins – magenta haired twins. As if that wasn't enough to anger Sana's father, two days after the birth, Sana died. The doctor's explained it was a complication of birthing that sometimes happened with twins, but Sana's father was beyond reason. The Baronet nullified Yukimura's marriage to his daughter, and refused to accept the twins.

By rights, Yukimura should not have accepted the children either, but he saw no reason to be cruel to the children when none of this was their fault. He left the children with a wet nurse in his father's care, determined to make something of himself so the children would never suffer as he had. He would not become his father, to force unwilling boys into marriages that could cost them everything. And he would not be his wife to ignore his responsibilities.

Embittered, but determined, Yukimura set out to look for a job, one that would put him near higher-ranking lords and ladies than the simple Baronet he'd been the son in-law to. Yukimura knew he was good looking, and if he found the right household, be might be able to convince his employer to give him more benefits than a mere head of house usually got. He despised the idea, but he was willing to sink so low to make sure neither he nor 'his' children would never be subjected to the horrors of an unloving marriage and possible poverty.

It took him some time, but he finally found his place in Baron Tezuka's household. And after only a few months in his service, he found himself enamored with his Baron. Distant and cold, the man had just lost his wife, yet he carried on with an air of nobility and pride that was awe-inspiring. His voice, so low and smooth, had sent shivers down Yukimura's spine, and he often found himself staring at the Baron, drinking in his handsome profile, watching the play of his muscles as he worked alongside his people in the garden, practicing his swordsmanship, or the stables. And he was brilliant, to boot. Intelligent, Yukimura found delight in the conversations they had that did not involve his work for the Baron, and evidently the Baron did as well as he started inviting Yukimura to dinners.

Finally, they both admitted their unspoken affections over a private dinner, and consummated it that same night. Ever since, Yukimura shared Tezuka's bed and his love, wondering if he would have been so happy with Sana if their relationship had been like this.

But the fates were not kind. Shortly after Yukimura got permission to bring his two children to the Barony, Tezuka fell ill. There was no warning and no explanation. Yukimura sent people searching in vain for doctors to cure Tezuka, but every one summoned said the same. Tezuka was doomed.

Tezuka died in Yukimura's arms, silent and strong as ever, out in the gardens he had so loved. For the first time, Yukimura had left himself cry for anyone in his life. The servants, by some miracle or their own pity, had not collected Tezuka's body till he had cried himself dry. He somehow forced himself to go to the funeral, but he did not cry. He was done crying. There was nothing for it now. Tears would not bring his Baron back.

But Yukimura could not keep his grief locked up. Not willing to lash out at his adoptive sons, he turned his anger on Tezuka's son – Sanada. He and Sanada had never gotten along, but he had never counted the boy an enemy. Now he feared that if Sanada gained the title of Baron he be would ousted, and would fall back into the miserable condition his father was in, and he was not sure he could find another lord or lady to endear himself to, not after Tezuka.

If that was to be so, the Yukimura planned to make sure Sanada would live through hell. It wouldn't matter anyways, since he was sure he would be out the door even if he hadn't done what he did, but at least this way he had an outlet for his grief and pain over Tezuka's death. He immediately dismissed those servants most loyal to Tezuka and Sanada, and called in friends from the Baronet's household he knew needed jobs and would gladly serve him. At the same time, he forced Sanada into the role of Marui's, Gakuto's, and his personal servant. It was petty and vile, but Yukimura didn't care.

As for them sleeping together, than had come about two days after the funeral. Still raw from his lover's death, Sanada had entered announced into what Yukimura now claimed as his rooms to bring Yukimura his meal.

In need of a distraction from the pain and anguish coursing through him, Yukimura did something he never thought he would do – he slept with another man that was not his Baron. That first night Sanada had not argued and made love with Yukimura, and Yukimura believed it was because he too was in pain from the passing of his father. That night they took comfort in one another, letting their shared grief soothe the hurt that was gnawing at them both.

Twice more Sanada had come willingly to Yukimura's bed, but he resisted the fourth time, and Yukimura knew he had found the hell he could force on Sanada. Unable to disobey Yukimura, who was now Baron-Regent, Yukimura ordered Sanada to his bed, and Sanada never disobeyed. His father had trained him to well.

Sanada was not Tezuka – he did not have his father's touch or warmth when they bedded each other. But he certainly had strength, often leaving Yukimura feeling raw and torn (no doubt payback for what they did), but Yukimura accepted it, welcomed it even. It kept the pain of Tezuka's loss away that much longer. It meant Yukimura wasn't alone, that the memories of his time with Tezuka didn't claw at the back of his mind. They were thin rationalizations for taking Sanada to his bed and treating Sanada as he did, but they were enough for Yukimura. Anything to keep the pain away was enough of a reason.

Sighing, he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the pain and guilt eating away at him. He could feel his eyes growing hot, but he forced them back. Even alone he refused to cry.

Tears would not bring Tezuka back.