~Martyr before Maiden~

Chapter 3:

Whispered Identity

Truth be told, Yumemi had not always the object of her father's scorn.

There was a period, once upon a time in her life, where he would put aside his work for her. He would lead her out into the centre of his study, place her bare feet on his leathery soles – before he lead the both of them to move in a rhythmic pattern, hands intertwined and a genuine smile upon his lips. They danced to their private orchestra – her childish hums and his gruff, but hearty choruses.

That smile. That true smile. It was one she sorely missed, despite her 'rebellious' and 'uncaring' nature towards her peers and family, as her father sought to put it.

"Keep your dreams alive, Yumemi."

Those words used to give her such innocent hope, her heart couldn't help but believe in them. Her mind may have said otherwise, but to a child, logic is second-best. Back when flower crowns were worth more than twisted metal and rammed-in jewels.

"-memi, Miss. Yumemi!" Her thoughts were cut off by a frustrated cry, as Yumemi sighed deeply.

Right. The reception of the two worlds this evening. She'd completely forgot. Or at least, purposely tried to not remember.

"You need to stop daydreaming, Miss... one day those dreams of yours are going to get you in trouble!" Her maid scolded with a smile, Yumemi merely chuckling.

"Honestly... right, Miss, please raise your arms up!" Complying, the golden sash was tightened around her waist, constricting her breathing and beautifying her figure into a slim, curvy set of lines.

Truth be told, she hated the formal dress her father had picked out for her to wear for the evening. Not hand-picked, she assumed, it never was. It didn't apply to her tastes at all – scarlet red, cascaded down to her ankles, the sleeves down to her wrists. Golden hems with flower patterns (she guessed lilies) sewn on the bodice, and the entire right-side of the leg of her dress with much larger golden patterns.

Not to mention, the bodice seemed to dip down just a little lower than usual. She knew the symbolism behind that.

Her skin had been waxed and stripped of any fine hair – moisturised so it was soft to the touch. Her face was smothered in creams and powders. Her lashes thick and black, her lips and eyelids the same colour as her dress. She looked more like rare merchandise to be sold off than the daughter of an aristocrat.

"But what is life without a little fantastical thinking?" Her hair was now dry, freshly-dyed to that same plain brown, pulled back into an elegant bun (clipped with a red rose-pin).

Her new maid – Rebecca – always did such a fantastic job with it, never judging her. At least, not outwardly. If she was the discrete type, then Yumemi reckoned she should have a career in acting, not in serving a household.

"If you're going to continue with that way of thinking, why not become an artist?" She suggested, adding the finishing touches to her apparel. Her gloves were golden, satin and thick. "I don't see why you have to wear gloves all the time, you know!"

...Right. She forgot this maid was new here.

"Personal preference. I dislike my hands." She explained.

"Ah," Rebecca nodded in understanding, "however, I do wish to paint your nails at some point! I used to paint my mother's nails all the time, actually! She did love them... anyway! Would you allow me to do so at some point, Miss. Yumemi?"

Such an innocence... Yumemi couldn't help but feel pity. However, she would rather allow pity to consume her than to let another scar to her heart be had.

"I'm sorry, Rebecca, but I..." She shook her head, "I can't let you. I'm sorry."

Dismayed. That was the one word that summed up her face. Either that, or disappointed. Both of those words were like a drug to Yumemi, now. "I see. That's fine, please don't apologize!" But she did have to. Sorry didn't always make things better, but somehow, it helped her.

"At least..." There was no point arguing.

"Anyway, I suppose tonight is rather exciting for you, isn't it? Meeting all these well-known aristocrats..." If that could be called exciting, "hearing all about the other world..." Like she hadn't already, "and," a slight smirk, though playful in teasing, "even meeting your possible future spouse! I've heard he is a General, such a well-famed, respected military figure..."

...What?

"Pardon?" Her voice was firm.

"O-oh..." Rebecca began to feel her throat clog up. She'd assumed that she would know... "I, uh, well..."

"What did you just say? Possible future spouse? General? Other world?" Her voice got louder, "where did you hear of this?" And why was I not informed?!

She shrank in her work shoes, feeling very small, "I-I was told by some of the workers down on the bottom floor... a-apparently most people kn-know about it..."

"Most people?!" Yumemi's voice raised even higher, strained by her throats desperate attempts to be calmer, "why was I not informed of this? Why was I last to know? Again! I swear..." She sighed deeply, beyond hurt and annoyed.

"I-it may have just been a rumor, and they got confused, Miss. Yumemi..." It was a weak offer at trying to make her feel better. Yumemi didn't take it.

"Rumors in this house are always true, Rebecca. We have no reason to lie, only to cover up the most important details.

She stayed silent.

Yumemi clenched her gloved fists, before marching out of her room. Her gaze was like firelight – red, dangerous, like her scarlet dress. All she needed was a sword, and she would almost look like a martyr, rather than a maiden.

"M-Miss Yumemi, I don't think-"

Her head whipped around, eyes slit and deadly. Rebecca gulped audibly. "I'll keep quiet about you being the one who told me, as long as you say nothing further to stop me."

"Y-yes, Mam."

And with that final warning, Yumemi marched off, shoulders swinging angrily. Oh, did she have a few words to say to her 'daddy dearest'. Rebecca stayed very still, almost quaking in her shoes.


Despite being a general of the highest rankings, Rui was not one to keep up-to-date with current political affairs.

True, he was good friends with his King, not to mention those he chose to associate himself with would earn him more than a plump position within the rankings of those who ruled the nations. His paycheck was also something to be admired and envied.

But for all that glamour and fortune, if those who were his supposed 'body-guards' could not even inform him of the state of his fellow comrades, then why should he even bat an eyelash at the way they twisted people into false pretences of hope and justice? He scoffed. Munto often tried way too hard to appeal trustworthy. Oh, how utterly pitiful

"General Rui!"

Ugh. Rolling his eyes and putting out the but of his cigar, he stood to attention, "how may I help you?" It was a firm answer. Laced with a patronizing undertone.

"We have arrived. Please take care when going to your quarters – someone will be there to guide you, until this evening."

The door closed with a soft 'click', the contraption whisking away, as he began his brisk walk through the halls of what he could only assume was the crown court. The reception was only around an hour or so away... god, how he hated their formalities. Too fickle. Too sugar-coated. But then again, the meetings were so controlled anyway...

It had only been around ten minutes, admiring some of the foamed portraits of politicians and royalty on the wall, when he heard a stern, but hushed voice.

"General Rui?" Glancing around, his eyes remained uninterested.

The girl who had poured his drink earlier. Her posture told him polite, her eyes told him to be annoyed. "Yes? Can I help you?"

"I will be your guide to your chamber. Please, follow me." She gestured at him to follow her, to which he did not. She'd been on the transportation with him! How could she possibly know the way? This was off. Rui knew suspicious figures, women were no exception.

"Hold on a minute." She stopped, as he folded his arms, "you were the one who served me my drink, back on the transporter. How in the name of the Heavens above do you know your way around here? And how can I even trust you?"

She bowed to him (though looked like she was grimacing as she did so), "forgive my sudden indecency. My father is Take Ono – a senator of this land. He sent me over a means to assure your safety upon arriving in this land. I could not reveal my identity, as it was critical to my task to keep it hidden."

He raised a brow. She could lie quite well, he'd give her that. Almost too well, as if she'd been... trained. "Why did they not send a member of their military, then? That would make much more sense."

"Secrecy, General. You would not expect a woman to be working undercover to make sure your safety is the highest priority, especially the daughter of a senator, would you?" Another good question. But one he had the answer to. If she were a member of his squadron, he could see a few enjoyable banters between the two.

"So then, why do you hold a weapon? That would most definitely show your identity." She opened her mouth to protest, "and don't say it was for any 'surprise attacks'. I had plenty of men there that I have worked with for years."

"But-" Her façade was slipping.

"And for that matter, why were none of my men not informed – everything to do with my safety goes through Ormond. If anything, you could be a mercenary, sent to end my life. So no, I will not follow you."

He ended his speech, his bombardment of flaws within her 'plan' to whatever she was... well, planning. She looked down hesitantly, biting her lip. He smirked.

Seconds passed them by. Looks like he'd won this argument.

With a slight victorious smirk, he was about to head off toward his chamber (or at least, hope to find it before something else weird happened) – before a slow, daunting clapping sound was heard from her, followed by a rather... patronizing chuckle.

"Well done, Rui."

Her voice was deeper, this time. More assertive. It almost spooked him.

"...What?" He glared back at her. He didn't particularly care for the disbandment of his title, more of the tone he was addressing him with. "What do you mean?"

"You figured me out. Quite intelligent, as the rumuors say. I was such a fool to underestimate that brain of yours." Her bandanna fixed, the golden hooped earrings dangled. They caught a glint of red. "But perhaps, that argument can be seen both ways."

"What are you on about, you fool?" Okay, so he wasn't one for witty retorts. Or insults.

A lop-sided smirk, she twirled her twin daggers up in the air from two concealed holders from her thighs, before catching the handles with familiar accuracy. He took a tentative step backwards. She slowly walked towards him, his steps in perfect beats to hers, until his back was against the wall.

She pressed the tip of her blade to his chin, the point hot with anticipation, the metal cold with deliverance from this world. "Let me see your mistakes, shall we?"

"My mistakes?" He spoke up. Not that he hadn't been in these situations before.

"You gave me the name of one of your superiors, that is usually kept secret. Ormond. A unique name, so should not be that hard to find." He swallowed. "You know enough about human culture, when you haven't been here before. I could use that as a means to frame you for any raids on this palace. And with the name you have given me... I could use that as a way to make it seem the Heavens were planning an attack on this world."

"Then go ahead and do it. Begin a war you humans cannot win." Why not kill me now?

"I don't wanna." She grinned, taking a step back.

"What?"

"See, I was gonna kidnap 'ya, y'know, for leverage and ransom money – but you're pretty smart. You'd figure a way to get out. So, I need you to do something for me. I'll spare your life in return."

What the hell was with this girl's ways of thinking?

"And what makes you think I won't just kill you instead?" He readied his sword – only to find it missing. Frantically, he patted his belt line – only to look up at the snickering figure. The woman – who he would affectionately dub as a twelve year old boy with eyelashes thicker than his skin – was holding it in her grasp, smirking. He frowned. "Give that back."

"One condition."

"Give it back to me."

"You don't show I've been here. I'll be at the reception tonight, among the crowds"

"What does that have to do with me-"

"And being the 'fragile woman' that I am, I could just use you as the reason as to why I rebelled – because I was forced by a rather forceful General. My father would get angry at you, saying this was a way for you to show your disrespect to humans. So don't doubt my ability to ruin your reputation just like that," she clicked her fingers.

His mouth hung open. He had underestimated her intelligence. Or she had just gone to someone to look into the future and record everything he was going to say, therefore coming up with a witty response. He chose to believe the latter.

"You honestly expect me to just..." Rui began, in a rather dark and threatening tone, but soon realized she was the one with leverage. It appeared his neck was at ends with the noose, and she was the one tugging the rope. "...Fine. Now, give me back my sword."

She tossed it back to him. It appeared she was a woman of fair word. One redeemable factor point.

It soon went back into his belt, as azure eyes met with an ash gaze. What was that look? ...It was the look of loss. But what loss? The loss of a weapon? Friend? Loved one? Missed opportunity?

They broke it mere seconds later.

"Well then!" She smirked, "I'll be seeing you, General." It was almost taunting. She turned on his heel, when he placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked startled – he was... fast. "What?"

"Your name. What is your name?"

"...Huh."

"It's a question. Just answer it." He sighed.

She raised a brow, "you want to know the name of the one who tried to kidnap you? Are you an idiot or 'sommat?"

"Just answer the goddamned question, ingrate." Rui snapped, causing her to glare.

"Who the hell are you calling- gah, you know what, never mind." She shook his shoulder away, shuddering a little. As if he was a plague. Consuming her. She walked to the edge of the hallway, near the window. Her feet on the windowpane, she glanced back. "I am known as the One Protector. Try to figure that one out! Hah!" Poking her tongue out at him, she slipped out the window, unseen by anyone. Rui's eyes widened, dashing forward to see the broken body that lay on the grounds below... only to see none. There was nothing but the whisper of the winds.

She'd gone. Or hidden.

He leaned against the wall, breathing deeply. Who in Heaven's name was that? If she was a robber, why did she not steal his sword? Why did she leave, just because he was smart enough to see through her blatant lies? And... how did she have so many high connections? How could she see the threat of war to be played with like a game? Her father was Taki Ono, or was that just a cover-up?

It was all way too confusing. But the one thing he did know was – he was in deep trouble. She'd assessed him in the space of one conversation, and threatened to break his name with just a few choice words. He could cover it up, but he knew how the human world saw women. No equality, not really, unless they were the victim of an attack. That's what gave her the upper-hand.

He drew his sword, trying to forget the encounter in the beauty of the blade. Long, silvery sheen, with the inscription of Wind in some native language only his Grandfather understood. He never taught him.

The Magical Beings – the inhabitants of his world – once had a supreme language, quite poetic, centuries ago. But it had been replaced with the human language. His native tongue, destroyed. They could wield elements, with their energy Akuto. Now all management of that energy went into keeping his people alive.

He withdrew his blade, placing it back into the worn-out scabbard.

Rui's footsteps went unheard, though they were heavy-footed, echoing around the empty hallways.


"-FATHER!"

The door slammed open, Yumemi's eyes full of anger. He did not bother to look up from his work, not even when his teenage daughter stalked towards him, an almost feral look on her face. "Can I help you, Yumemi? And please , try to keep it down. I happen to be rather busy-"

"Busy arranging my wedding plans, I assume?" To that, he did bother to look up. Her gaze was focused and intense, but also slightly hurt (to which he did not pick up on) "Why was I not informed of this? Why do you feel it necessary to keep me in the dark about my own future, father?" She folded her arms, brows furrowed.

Only reorganizing his papers, he sighed at her naïvety. "Your reputation is broken."

That hurt. "And? I am aware of that. So just tell me, why-"

"And we need to fix it when you hit maturity. It is not yet confirmed you will be wedded to him, if he approves. So, make sure to put on a good impression for tonight." His words were so cold, as was the study. The curtains were drawn.

"So I'm just... merchandise? To win over the other side?"

Now he looked up properly. She sounded almost like a distressed child.

"Understand. I am doing this for the benefit of the family. You should take that into consideration." She flinched. "They have plenty of experienced-"

"-I understand." Just a simple acknowledgement of understanding. If he bought that up, then she couldn't refuse.

Clammy hands and a weak smile.

She hated that sight. Detested it with every fibre of her being. Bowing, her eyes were distant. "Forgive my intrusion, father. I shall leave you be, now." And with that, she turned, her feet light, dainty, respectful of not creating any further disruption.

Her father sighed deeply as she closed the door, only a slit of light from the keyhole pointing at his eyes. He put his head in his hands. His papers had newly acquired creases.


A/N: Pay attention to that last scene. It has fuuuuture hints! And, yeah, sorry for the lame-ass chapter, it was going to be longer, but the next chapter will be LONG! Long and filled with first meetings and mysteries and DADDY issues and EXPLOSIONS. So I hope you enjoy!