The Dance of the Butterflies
Part Four of Chapter Three
Mashiro Blan de Windbloom ascended the staircase with the confidence that was typical of her countenance. The ballroom lights grew dim, revealing the spotlight that followed after her. And the clamor of the many dozen overlapping conversations which had reverberated in the room became a hush of curious whispers. When she faced the mass of guests, most of who had crowded around the foot of the staircase, she did not expose a twitch of discomfort. Yet it wasn't just the party guests she was bound to address; the strategically situated camera crew ensured that her address would extend to the whole kingdom.
The young Secretary of State couldn't help but wonder how the queen could maintain such calm. It wasn't just the camera she faced; leaders of great nations, republics and principalities were among the crowd of guests that looked up from the foot of the staircase. Masaru felt more than a little unnerved by the young queen's demeanor. Although he was going on twenty-nine years, he was still considered young and inexperienced by most courtiers and politicians, but the queen, who was still very much the teenager, had garnered respect by personality alone.
"Impressed, are we?"
Masaru looked up beside him to the owner of those words; and there stood Meister Shizuru Viola and Garderobe Headmistress Natsuki Kruger. He recognized them immediately as they had both been present at his appointment to Secretary of State just weeks prior.
Meister Viola smiled politely.
"It's just that she's not afraid. Not in the slightest. And so young, too. This must be a result of royal breeding," he whispered.
"I wouldn't say that," Meister Viola replied.
Masaru was not convinced.
"Any brat could be a monarch, Secretary Pitzer," said Meister Viola. "But only a precious few can be leaders."
But the Secretary of State had little time to dwell on those words.
"Thank you so much for coming," Mashiro began, and the ballroom stood still with silence. "Many of you have traveled from great distances just to be here on my behalf, and many others have chosen to embrace this day as a day of significance; for that I am humbled and honored."
Arika followed Aoi into the darkened ballroom just moments after Mashiro began her address. In spite of standing high above the spectators, under the pressure of lights and cameras, Mashiro remained the picture of serenity and propriety, and Arika couldn't help but to swell with admiration of the queen's temperance.
The crowding guests listened closely, hanging upon every word as Mashiro addressed each present leader. Subtly expressive and intelligent, she spoke of interdependence between nations and bridging cultural differences wedged by cultural constructivism. But her political address was brief.
"This is after all, a birthday celebration, and not a political campaign." She laughed softly and a ripple of chuckles resonated from the crowd.
"So I thank you again for accepting me into your lives." Mashiro said as she brought her address to a close. "And you can trust that I will continue to serve this kingdom, not just as a monarch, but as a citizen in civil service to the crown and its people, who are the true pillars of this nation…" She spied Arika and Aoi in the crowd.
"…and with that in mind, I'd like to take this opportunity to honor an extraordinary citizen. Someone who is the embodiment of strength and compassion, who is loyal and just but not afraid to raise questions. And whose childlike view of the world never fails to keep me grounded, even when she's being a pain in the neck." Mashiro paused briefly and nodded.
Aoi immediately took her cue and nudged Arika forward, out from the crowd of guests. Arika stumbled awkwardly toward the staircase, nearly slipping on her heels when a blindingly brilliant spotlight beamed upon her. A murmur of laughter rose from the crowd as the startled Meister struggled to regained her balance. She narrowed her eyes up the staircase to her queen who was aglow in a stark white beam of light, much like her own. She was like a dream.
"Arika Yumemiya," Mashiro said as she extended her arm toward her. "This honor is for you." With that said, Mashiro took a few steps back and took hold of a braided gold rope tassel, before giving it a strong tug.
A third light illuminated the upper walls behind her where a strategically placed large red velvet curtain conspicuously hung over a canvass. With a yank, the curtain came cascading down and flopped heavily to the floor, revealing the painted portrait that had been hidden beneath. It was a thing of utter beauty, and perhaps that was why the guests were agape with silence. The silly face they were accustomed to was splayed before them, yet there was nothing silly or childish of the face they saw. Eyes gazing downward and lips slightly parted, behind her a flutter of fallen feathers encompassed her, each paint stroke in a variant shade of gold.
Arika was likewise still with shock, unable to fully reconcile the portrait before her with her own self image. That can't be me, she rationalized, it's too beautiful.
Her eyes met Mashiro's, burning with questions, but Mashiro only smiled back and motioned for her to join her. And yet, Arika remained dumbstruck. She couldn't say how long she remained frozen at the foot of the staircase; she felt so detached from time. Yet somehow she was making her way up the staircase, and she soon realized that Mashiro herself was guiding her up the stairs by the hand, their fingers firmly entwined.
When they reached the top, the applause grew louder, and with some prompting from Mashiro, Arika took a humbled bow before the crowd of guests. With a quick glance to her hand, she realized that Mashiro had not yet let go, and she felt all the more relieved for it. Arika had never been one to be shy and withdrawn, but she felt more than a little humbled by the honor she was receiving. She did not feel so deserving; in fact, she felt somewhat guilty.
"It's okay," Mashiro whispered in her ear, her warm breath making the hairs on her neck stand on end. "I'm right here."
Arika's throat went dry and words failed her. She took a breath then something between a sob and a laugh got choked in her throat.
"Thank you," she finally managed. Anything more or less would have been just as inadequate.
"She's beautiful," Duke McAllister remarked. "But it seems wrong somehow."
"Oh?" Mashiro replied. "How do you mean?"
The pair stood just feet away from the canvass; around them a few party guests strolled along the marble floors of the second tier. The ball had resumed following the unveiling, and the guests were once again clamoring in multitudes of conversations. Arika had regained her composure and was presently engaged in conversation with several friends from her Garderobe days. Once the camera crew had bagged away their equipment, Duke McAllister quickly made his way to the young queen, eager as always for her company.
"Her expression is too delicate and soft," he answered. "Not exactly the symbolic pillar you spoke of. But more importantly, it's not an expression anyone could image on a girl who is hardly the picture of solemnity."
"No, it's not," Mashiro concede. "But it's not wrong."
The duke raised a brow. "You had it commissioned, then, to your specifications?"
Mashiro couldn't deny the rise at the corners of her lips. She was exceedingly amused by the young duke. "You are fairly insightful, aren't you?"
"So?" He pressed on.
"It was a photograph," she conceded. "I gave the artist a photograph that I took of her last summer. She never even realized I took it, she'd been so distracted."
"And the feathers?" He probed.
"The feathers?"
"In the painting. Perhaps there was some pillow play involved," he suggested coyly.
Mashiro furrowed her brows in disapproval and stiffened.
"It's not like that between us." Mashiro replied tartly. "She's a friend. A dear friend; and I'd prefer that you didn't go around making any kind of unwarranted insinuations about the nature of our relationship."
"Like the thing between you and the Zipang prince?" Duke McAllister realized he was being rather cruel; however it was far from his intentions. In fact, it was a subject that he had been meaning to bring it up for quite some time. "Or is that nothing too?"
Mashiro's lips parted slightly with surprise, then a wave of fury came over her. She stared coldly into the duke's eyes, all traces of amusement completely drained from her face. "I don't see how any of this is any of your concern," she said. Her voice quivered with rage as she began to lose control of her emotional restraint.
A melancholic smile formed on the duke's lips. "It's not, really," he answered. "And yet it is. I had hoped that you might consider me. I still hope, actually."
"What are you talking about?" She demanded, her face flushed with anger.
"Mashiro, you can't be so naïve as to my intentions. I am talking about what everyone is talking about in the kingdom. We've been dancing around this matter for months now, although I realize that you've mostly been avoiding it." he replied.
"I haven't—"
"You have," he cut her off. "Don't get me wrong, I understand your feelings. I do. But Prince Takumi is no more than a girlish dream. You're still new to all these complicated feelings, so you probably don't see it so clearly. I had hoped you'd realize it sooner than later to avoid the pain that is sure to come, but-"
"That's enough, Tate." Mashiro snapped. "You're not so much older than me that you can talk to me like you're some wise sage. You don't know what's inside my heart."
"Is that so?"
Mashiro stiffened and looked away, refusing to answer any further, afraid she might burst into some childish tantrum. The duke was quick to pick up on her posture. Without a word, Mashiro had ended the conversation; but the duke was not quite finished yet.
"The reason Prince Takumi has been delayed," Duke McAllister began, hating himself for what he was about to do. "Is not because he has to address legislature, as you have been lead to believe. It is because he is in session with his cabinet members to address objections over his recent engagement to a commoner."
Mashiro hadn't been prepared for the duke's revelation. She responded with absolute disbelief, calling him a liar and a social climber, but the look of regret in his eyes made her realize that he spoke the truth. That was when the tears came pouring down her face. She was shocked at first, unable to reconcile herself with her sudden aching grief. When she accepted it, she buried her face in the duke's chest and grabbed onto his jacket with clenched fists like a small child. Calm came to her only when Duke McAllister's arms came around her in a comforting embrace.
To the few party guests who had born witness to the couple's embrace, it seemed that perhaps the circulating rumors about their queen's secret engagement to the duke were true. Queen Mashiro appeared to cling rather passionately to the duke.
"Perhaps we should dance," the duke suggested as he unassumingly wiped the tears from her cheeks, realizing that people were beginning to take notice of them.
Mashiro nodded and he took her by the crook of the arm as they made their way down the stairs and to the ballroom floor. However, no one was dancing and there was no music to dance to. The duke flagged down the Windbloom Captain who'd been standing guard nearby. He whispered into the middle aged man's ear and the Captain hurried off to the Orchestra maestro. Within moments a waltz began resonating within the hall and the surprised guests immediately took to their cues and cleared the dance floor for the queen and the duke.
Arika made her way through the crowd of guests that massed around the dancing pair. She found a clearing and stared unobstrued at the couple. A soft lit spotlight shown over them as the ballroom slowly dimmed. Mai Tokiha and Shiho Huit, who had just arrived, came up behind Arika as they pushed their way through. A waiter squeezed by and elbowed Shiho in the ribs. She gasped loudly but was surprised that the waiter had continued on without as much as a pardon. Her eyes narrowed with resentment as they bore through his back and she fought back the urge to spiral him through the roof.
"He's a good dancer," Mai pointed out. "Even by courtly standards."
It took Shiho a moment to realize that Mai was referring to the Duke of Gristholm. Arika ignored Mai's comment and looked on somberly, a tightness forming in her chest.
"Yuuichi never liked to dance," Shiho uttered just above her breath. Her face was as solemn as Arika's.
"Yuuichi?" Mai asked.
Shiho shook her head. She hadn't intended her words for anyone but herself, and was surprised to realize that she had spoken them out loud.
"Nobody, really," Shiho replied tactfully. "Just someone I used to know."
Behind them the guests murmured with excitement at the possible implications of the dancing couple. Arika tried to tune out their voices, feeling more and more irate by their incessant chatter. Her jaw involuntarily clenched and the temples of forehead dully ached.
"I don't like it," Arika muttered.
"Hm?" Mai gave Arika a questioning glance.
"He's too tall for her."
Queen Mashiro and Duke McAllister could not hear the excited whispers of the guests over the orchestra's song. The duke was relived for that although he knew very well that the guests were likely talking about them. Mashiro was noticeably calmer and the redness in her face had subsided.
"Tate," Mashiro said softly.
"Yes?"
"I'll think about it."
Mashiro looked the duke in the eyes and was met with a look of warmth.
"Thanks," he replied. "That's all I ask for."
They finished their slow waltz as the music came to an end and gradually pulled away from each other. The duke took Mashiro's gloved hand in his and gingerly pressed it against his lips.
"Mashiro, we have this custom in my country," he told her. "Whenever a first son is born to a royal family, the mother's family name is substituted for his given name. Only those closest to him will ever know his true given name."
Mashiro twisted her brows with confusion.
"Tate, why are you telling me this?"
"Because I am a first born son and my true given name is Yuuichi. I needed you to know this."
After the queen and the duke's waltz, the dance floor was swarming with pairs. Nina and Sergay Wang were among the dancers along with a rambunctious Mikoto who made it her duty to ensure that Nina and Sergay did not enjoy a moment without her presence. Anxious to join the guests on the dance floor, Aoi asked a flustered Sakomizu Cardinal onto the dance floor. The captain turned red with embarrassment but accepted the invitation.
Duke McAllister disappeared from the ballroom floor and Arika presumed that Mashiro had gone along with him somewhere beyond the prying eyes of the guests. But that was not the case. Just as Arika began to take a tentatively sip from her champagne flute, a pair of warm hands pulled at her waist from behind. Champagne spilled from her flute and splattered down her chest and a small shriek escaped her lips.
"Mashiro!" She was surprised to turn and find Mashiro standing before her, grinning broadly.
"Just the person I was looking for," Mashiro proclaimed distractedly as she turned to a passing unsuspecting waiter and snatched an unopened champagne bottle from the silver platter he carried.
"Here," Mashiro said as she thrust the bottle to Arika. "Hold this while I grab another."
Arika didn't know what to make of Mashiro's unusual behavior. Three years ago it wouldn't have been so terribly unusual for the queen to behave so unruly, but now it was downright out of character.
Mashiro nabbed a second bottled and took Arika by the hand.
"Let's go!" she said as she dashed forward and a perplexed Arika dragged behind her.
The festivities went on without them but they were hardly missed as alcohol was generously poured throughout the rest of the night. Mashiro led Arika into her chambers and pushed the door closed behind them. She took the champagne bottle from Arika's hands and set it down on the dresser then pulled out a corkscrew from the secret compartment in her dress, which she had stolen earlier from the kitchen. As she did so, the red pebble slipped out her pocket and clinked onto the floor, rolling across the marble until it was stopped by Arika's heels.
She picked up the pebble and was startled when it began to shimmer as soon as it made contact with her fingers. She eyed it closely, wondering where and how a battery could possibly fit into such a small sphere.
"What's this?" Arika asked. Mashiro looked up as she struggled to twist off the cork from the bottle.
"Hm? Oh, that. It was a gift from Mikoto."
Arika was still trying to make sense of it when Mashiro popped open the bottle of champagne. The cork shot up the ceiling and pierced through the light, effectively rendering it dead. The girls gasped in surprise but the room was not cast into darkness as they would have expected. The shimmering pearl had cast them in a pulsing red glow.
"Oh. It's a night light." Arika surmised.
Mashiro laughed and poured champagne into paper cups.
"Here," she said as she handed Arika a cup. Arika accepted it and took a small sip, still not certain what she was doing in Mashiro's room or what to make of the queen's sudden easy attitude.
"Did something happen?" Arika asked nervously, unable to meet her eyes.
"Lots of things happened," Mashiro replied nonchalantly. "It was a busy night."
Mashiro gulped down her drink and plopped down on the edge of her bed. The warmth of the champagne spread across her chest and down her belly, she felt light and heavy all at once.
"It's warm," she said then walked to her dresser and pulled out her favorite pair of satin pant pajamas. "I'll be right back," she said as she headed into the adjourning bathroom.
Arika stood stiffly still holding onto her cup and the glowing pearl in the other as she contemplated leaving for her room when Mashiro called her over.
Arika pushed open the bathroom door and found Mashiro with her back to her and holding up her hair.
"Can you help unzip me?"
She nodded and put down her cup on the counter. With hands trembling, Arika pulled cautiously at the zipper to avoid having any of the silk caught in the teeth. She was also feeling warm and wondered if perhaps the small sip of champagne was the culprit.
"Is that good?" Mashiro nodded and let the gown drop to her feet. Before she had turned around, Arika had already made it out the door, champagne in hand.
"I have another set of pajamas in the dresser," Mashiro called out as she changed. "Why don't you go ahead and change into them. There's no point in going all the way back to your room just to get your pajamas. This way we can get started on our girls' night, ne?"
By the time Mashiro reentered the room; Arika had lit the candle on night stand and already changed into the queen's pajama shorts and top. The top turned out to be a snug fit and Arika wished she had bothered with the trip to her room after all. As embarrassed as she was, Mashiro hardly seemed to notice.
"Come on, let's celebrate," Mashiro said as she poured more champagne into their paper cups. It wasn't long before the girls had polished off the bottle and were giddy drunk, although Mashiro kept insisting otherwise.
"You are so drunk," Arika insisted. Mashiro lay face up and sprawled on her bed, her eyes closed, but clearly still awake.
"No. No. Just lightheaded. See? I'm fine." To prove her point she tried to push herself up into a sitting position but her arms could not bear the weight. "Arika, get off me. You're heavy," Mashiro bemoaned. This only incited laughter from her friend.
"I'm not even near you! See, I told you. You are so, so drunk!"
Mashiro plopped her head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, ignoring Arika's drunken laughter.
"I thought it would feel better," the queen said somberly.
Arika's laughter died away and she crawled her way across the bed to Mashiro.
"Something did happen tonight, didn't it?"
Mashiro closed her eyes. She couldn't bring herself to talk about Takumi. After all, he had been nothing more than a fantasy; Tate had been right about that. Takumi had never been hers for her to lose, but it hurt all the same.
When Mashiro didn't reply, Arika began to wonder if she had fallen asleep. She moved closer and whispered softly in her ear.
"Did he propose?"
Mashiro opened her eyes and gazed into Arika's anxious face.
"Yes," she replied. "Sort of."
Arika didn't know what to make of that answer. How does someone 'sort of' propose? She thought about it for another moment until she remembered the conversation she had with the duke earlier that day.
"What—what did you tell him?"
"I said I'd think about it."
Arika shouldn't have been so surprised and yet she was. The room was suddenly suffocating and she found it difficult to breath. Mashiro must have noticed because she asked her if she was alright, but Arika ignored the question and asked one of her own.
"Do you like him?" She was far too cowardly to ask if she loved him. She wasn't sure why, but felt that an affirmative answer to her unspoken question would create a wide gap between their friendship. Why can't I be happy for her? She's my friend.
"I don't know," Mashiro answered after a moment of pondering. "I don't not like him."
The candle on the night stand went out, burnt to the end of the wick. Arika searched the bed for the 'night light' rock that Mikoto had given Mashiro. Mashiro quickly caught on as to what she was doing and began to search too, her head much clearer than it had been just minutes before.
"Ah, I found it!" Arika proclaimed needlessly. As soon as she made contact with the pearl it began to glow.
"Think it'll stay lit in water?" She asked her tipsy queen. Mashiro shrugged, but it was all the prompting Arika needed. She popped open the second bottle of champagne and dropped the pearl inside before Mashiro could protest. Miraculously enough, it stayed lit.
"Arika! That wasn't very clean," Mashiro pointed out, but Arika ignored her protests and took a swig directly from the bottle.
"It's okay," she replied as she passed the bottle to Mashiro. "It's alcohol, so it's self cleaning." She sat cross legged on the bed next to her.
The queen stared dubiously at the bottle before tentatively bringing it to her lips and taking a sip. Feeling courageous, Mashiro took a second drink, this one much longer than the first, but she had tried to swallow too much at once and it spilled down her pajama top. Arika laughed and stole the bottle back to take her turn. Unbeknownst to them, the glittering pearl was fizzing and rapidly dissolving in the champagne, but the glow was no less brilliant once the pearl had completely dissipated in the alcohol.
"I'm glad you're here," Mashiro confessed. "I'm feeling better already."
"Yeah?" Arika uttered as she subconsciously moved closer.
"Uh-huh." Mashiro's eyes lids fluttered and her torso swayed. She leaned forward and rested against the sitting Arika. Until now, Arika had been feeling just as drowsy and lightheaded as Mashiro, but as soon as the queen pressed herself against her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders for support, Arika was jolted wide awake.
"The room is spinning," Mashiro mumbled so close to Arika's ear. The meister trembled nervously as Mashiro's hot breath tickled her neck.
"Mashiro," Arika said, nudging her shoulder. "Mashiro, wake up. I need to get to bed and you need to get under the covers."
Mashiro eyes fluttered open and she used Arika's shoulders to push herself up. Arika's alcohol blushed cheeks grew redder and she instinctually leaned forward.
"Mashiro," she whispered. Mashiro had not yet realized just how close Arika's face was from hers. When she looked up to reply, she had done no more than part her lips to speak when she felt Arika's lips against hers. There was no time to think. Arika's kisses were warm and soft, so soft they tickled her lips. Mashiro kissed back timidly, unsure if she was doing it right. Then Arika's arms came sliding down her back and pulled her into a tight embrace.
Her kisses grew urgent too, her lips more demanding as she coaxed Mashiro's lips apart and suckled her lower lip. Mashiro silently obeyed, just as caught up in the moment as Arika was. Her body grew warm as a dull ache formed at the pit of her stomach.
Their lips parted and Mashiro struggled to catch her breath. Arika pressed her back against the mattress and kissed her again, tasting the inside of her mouth as her hands slid down to her hips and crawled back up her back, warm fingers against naked flesh.
Mashiro slid her hands up Arika's bare shoulders and down her back. I never knew kissing could be so nice, she thought, wondering if she was dreaming. Without a second thought, she slid her legs up and hugged them around Arika's waist.
Arika felt an electric jolt in her hips and pulled back, startled and confused. She searched Mashiro's face and was sobered by her queen's swollen lips and heavy breathing. What am I doing? She pondered as she grew consumed with self-loathing. Even as she bereated herself, she couldn't help but contemplate the flavor of the queen's lip balm. Peaches, perhaps?
She leaned forward once again, entranced by the inviting lips before her; her desires fumed once more as soft fingertips traced along her jaw and down the jut of her chin. Mashiro smiled back, the warm glow of alcohol difussed in her eyes. In her drunken state, Arika appeared to radiate a warm golden glow, much like the painting that hung high above the ballroom; and as she closed her eyes one last time before giving into sleep, Mashiro could have sworn she saw a pair of brilliant golden wings protruding from Arika's back.
They didn't bring it up the next day, or any day after that. Arika's hair was a mangled mess at the breakfast table and she spent the entire meal complaining about her massive hang over. Mashiro played along, feigning a headache and professing that she could not remember much after her greatly talked about dance with Duke McAllister.
Does she not remember? Mashiro wondered, but she could discern nothing from Arika's childish behavior.
Don't let her remember. Is all Arika hoped. And if she does, let her think it was a bad dream.
It was just minutes after noon when the duke entered the ballroom. He found the queen at the top of the stairs staring up at the portrait, just as he had found her yesterday.
"You wanted to see me?" Tate said, skipping the usual greetings.
Mashiro nodded, trying to find the words to speak.
"Is this about your answer?" he asked, feeling uneasy. He had expected the queen to give his request some lengthy consideration and hadn't expected to hear from her for another week, at the very least.
"Tate," the queen proceeded cautiously, intentionally avoiding calling him by his true given name. "I can't. Not right now."
"Something else has happened, hasn't it? Something's changed."
"You could say that" Mashiro replied. "I received a dose of truth last night, and it wasn't what I thought it was going be."
The duke looked up and appeared to gaze upon the painting as he tried to collect his scattered thoughts. Mashiro bit her lower lip nervously, not knowing what else to say.
"I'm very fond of you," he said after stretch of silence. "You're genuine when it comes to your kingdom and your people. You care in a way that most leaders don't. When you make mistakes, you don't hide from them or cast them onto others, you wear them like a badge of honor." He took her hand in his and gently stroked. "Last night you said Arika was the embodiment of strength, of loyalty and compassion; I see those exact same things in you in nearly everything you do. You are my ideal."
"But you don't love me," Mashiro told him and gently pulled her hand away.
"No," he replied. "Love isn't always a privilege for people like us. Even Prince Takumi won't be able to escape that fate. But there is fondness. I don't think we value it as much as we should."
"Tate, I still can't say yes."
He nodded, consigned to her answer.
"You can call me Yuuichi," he said. "That is, when we are alone."
Before Mashiro could object, the duke pressed a finger against her lips to silence her.
"It's okay," he told her. "Above all else, I am still your friend."
He left shortly after that but Mashiro stayed behind, unable to tear away from the thoughts that plagued her mind.
"A truth," she said out loud, gazing at the portrait and pressed her fingers against her lips. "But only one."
And one was all it took.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I didn't edit before posting, so sorry for any mistakes. The last three scenes didn't come out as I had planned, so let me know if it worked for you or not. Also, I won't be posting anymore chapters at least for 6-8 weeks due to pressures to get my thesis done.
So now, go ahead and review. Tell me what you thought. I'm a bit anxious about this chapter, so your feedback would be appreciated.