The Dance of the Butterflies

Chapter 6

When Masaru Pitzer learned that Meister Shizuru Viola had arrived at Windbloom Castle for the express purpose of meeting with Arika, he became unsettled and restless. In spite of the school's close ties to Windbloom, Garderobe Academy was still very much an independent institution, and it was precisely because of those close ties that he perceived the school as a threat.

"Garderobe should be kept at arm's length," he mumbled to himself. Never mind that Aoi was alone with him in his cluttered office. She held a silver tray to her chest, slowly inching her way to the door whenever Secretary Pitzer turned his back to her as he paced erratically.

Just as her fingers grazed the door knob, Pitzer stopped and looked her, scanning her up and down, as if he'd only just become aware of her presence; an idea was already forming in his mind. Aoi froze, almost afraid to breath. There was something predatory in the way he looked at her, so much so, that the tray she firmly held against her chest was not enough to subvert the violation she felt in his penetrating gaze.

Her face flushed red and she wondered if the rumors surrounding Masaru Pitzer, alledging him as the Peeping Tom of the Women's public baths, had any truth to them. After all, there had been witnesses who'd sworn up and down that it had been him. Never mind that they had all been drunk and professing that a giant cat, nearly human sized, had also scurried off into the night, leaving a trail of expensive and delicate lingerie.

"You were there, weren't you? " he proclaimed, inciting her to jump. "In the meeting between Meister Shizuru and Yumemiya?

Aoi bit her lip, fearful of the uncertain consequences that her simple response could elicit, but ultimately there were only two possible answers to his question.

"Yes," she replied and held her breath as she waited for the sky to fall.

Tate McAllister briskly strode through the marbled hallways, the clatter of his boots matched by Shiho Huit and Captain Cardinal as they followed behind. Shiho had no problem matching his pace, but Captain Cardinal struggled with breath as his legs pushed on stiffly.

"You-your Grace," said the Captain as he sought for a balance between words and breath, "It's quite a surprise...to have you here so far ahead of schedule. We weren't...we weren't expecting you and your entourage for a…for another two days."

"My entourage will be arriving on schedule, but recent events have demanded that I press ahead with our proceedings." Tate replied, not once bothering to look back.

The Captain eyed the Duke's companion, puzzled by her presence. The girl had not been included as part of his entourage and her presence had yet to be explained. Her identity was not all that much of a mystery. He recognized her easily enough as a Meister of the Cardair Empire and as a former classmate of Arika Yumemiya, but as to why she was traveling as the Duke's companion, let alone his sole companion was anybody's guess.

Shiho had been solemnly silent for the most part. Tate's impending negotiations with Queen Mashiro and Windbloom's Council and her part in the coup of the Gristholm sovereignty had left her rather subdued. And yet the prying eyes of the stogy Windbloom captain were irksome enough to stir up her contemptuous nature. She grit her teeth and fought back the urge to mouth off and make some kind of disparaging remark because she was beyond that. Or at least she was trying to make believe that she was. Instead she matched his ogling eyes, a stiff smile formed upon her lips. Captain Cardinal smiled back awkwardly, pausing for a fraction of a second as he was left unnerved by the Meister's expression. Her lips may have been smiling, but her eyes clearly wanted to cut him up into little pieces.

I'll have to steer clear of that one, he mentally noted, suddenly recalling Arika's absurd remark the last time Shiho Huit stayed at Windbloom Castle, warning him to watch out for any voodoo dolls and to steer clear whenever she put on her crazy eyes. It dawned on him that perhaps Arika's warning had not been so unreasonable after all.

As soon as they entered the Council Room Captain Cardinal excused himself and started for the Royal Office. He signaled down two passing guards and ordered them to keep watch outside the Council Room and resumed to his destination. He felt uneasy, the whole situation with Duke McAllister's unannounced early arrival had him on edge. Something's changed, he concluded. Like many others, he'd also heard the rumors circling the circumstances of Grand Duke Solise's dethroning and grimaced at the prospect of their veracity.

It is a passionate dream, but feels more like a nightmare. She is disoriented and can't understand how it came to pass that a girl, ripe and bare with the scent of peaches on her skin, straddles her on white silken sheets. Her velvety legs are clasped tightly against her waist, and in the haze of her dream, she realizes that this sexual being has her pinned to the mattress. She tries to make out her face but the sun is brazen and her eyes are weakened by the morning glare.

Her captor pulls a metal pin from her own hair and her locks come cascading down her neck and shoulders and over her delicate small breasts. Arika wonders why she has not noticed them before. Despite their smallness, they are curvaceous and inviting. Her breath catches in her throat and she is overcome with longing and a tightness in her groin that she cannot explain.

"Mashiro," she gasps softly as the shadows drift away and the sun drapes over them like a warm blanket. Arika feels the caress of a cool breeze upon her bare chest and is only vaguely aware that they are no longer on a bed in the Queen's chambers, but in the eastern gardens on a bed of flowers.

Mashiro plucks a yellow dandelion from the grass and teasingly trails it along Arika's firm stomach; she groans instinctively and resists the urge to pull her in her arms and roll on top of her. Instead she waits, curious to see what this girl, who has confined her with her lovely legs, will do next. The wait isn't a long one; Mashiro leans forward, closing the gap between them, her hair tickling Arika's sensitive cheeks.

Her lips close in and Arika is roused by the warmth of her queen's pulsing breath as it warms and tingles her lips. Their eyes close as mouth touches mouth, brushing ever so softly but not quite a kiss.

"Tate," she whispers as she takes Arika's lips in a deepened kiss.

Tate? Arika pulls away and the haze around them grows dense. She searches Mashiro's face but is confused by the stark lust gleaming in her eyes as she whispers his name once again.

Why? Why do you call his name? Can't you see me?

She reaches for her queen, stroking her face with large strong hands and realizes that they are not her own, nor are the arms, torso, chest...she runs strange hands over her face, over his face.

"Tate?" Mashiro looks on with quizzeled eyes.

No, I don't want this! Not this...I don't want...

Arika sprung forward as she woke, slipping off her bed and landing face first onto the rug. She gasped from the shock of the impact; her nose spasmed with a thousand microbes of pain, spinning her in every direction as tears welled up in her eyes.

Oh God, oh God, oh God.

She pushed herself up to her knees and squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself from the pain by counting the seconds until the ache had subsided enough for the tears to stop flowing. Gingerly, she touched her nose, but even such a delicate application of pressure sent another sharp spasm searing through her nasal cavity. She cursed herself and grit her teeth until the pain lulled once more.

"Tate?" Mashiro's voice resonated through her thoughts, her serenely doleful cyan eyes were engraved in Arika's mind. She sensed a longing in them as well, which troubled her to no end.

When she looked at me like that...when she...was she longing for him or for...

It was pointless to dwell on it further, there was nothing to be gained from a dream. Nevertheless, the fear burrowed inside her, refusing to unburden her thoughts. For a moment she dared to wonder if that nightmare had truly been a dream feeding on her unfiltered insecurities. Doubt came pouring from within and she grabbed at her chest, half afraid at what she might discover. But there was never any need to worry. No amount of dreaming could will away a bust of her size.

A spark of relief ignited within her and she took to her feet, making her way to the floor mirror. The face gaping back at her, sleepy-eyed and blood smudged across a broken nose, was clearly hers. She touched her cheek and it was smooth as a peach, not coarse and brittle as his had been. And yet, it had been that face that made Mashiro look upon her so.

This face...if only...

She pressed her hands and forehead against the mirror, careful not to hit her nose.

Just what is it that I'm looking for? What do I want?

"Arika?"

Aoi stood at the doorway, her face lit up with more than a little surprise to find Arika awake so early in the morning. It was just minutes after eight, but the walls of Windbloom castle were unaccustomed to the Arika's noisy clatter before eleven.

Arika barely responded; a mumble escaped her throat but not a single muscle had winced, and Aoi couldn't help but wonder if Arika was awake at all. It wouldn't be the first time she had caught her sleep walking. The last time it had occurred she had nearly strangled Secretary Pitzer in his sleep.

"Arika?" she repeated in a soft voice, well aware of the fragile state of sleepwalkers.

"Hmm?"

Well, she's responding...somewhat...so she must be awake. Aoi closed the door behind her.

"Mashiro asked that I wake you," she continued cautiously. "She wanted me to bring you this," she held up a garment bag but Arika had yet to acknowledge her. "She had it especially tailored for you. To wear for the Gristholm Joint Council. It's very military sheik. The latest in military fashion, no more froufrou ruffles getting in the way of combat...Arika?"

"There is no meeting," Arika grumbled flatly. "The Joint Council isn't on the agenda for a couple of days."

"You're right. It wasn't on the Agenda for today. But it is as of this morning, Duke McAllister arrived early. He's waiting in the Council Room."

"He's here?"

"Yes. And Her Majesty needs you to be at your best in the next twenty minutes."

Arika pushed herself away from the mirror and clumsily turned around, her bare feet nearly tripping over each other.

"It's happening? Now?" There was no masking the distress in her voice, but Aoi was far more distracted by the blood smudged across the bridge of her nose and dripping down along the curve of her upper lip.

"Goodness! Arika, what happened to you? Are you okay?"

"Just fell," she answered dismissively, far too dumbfounded by the news Aoi had laid upon her. " Are you serious...about what you said?"

"Yes, yes," Aoi replied anxiously as she draped the garment bag over the nearest chair and hurried to the bathroom. Arika followed glumly behind, her feet dragging on the marble floors, smudging the blood as it came tricking down.

The sound of drawers and cabinets rattling as they were opened and closed shut, briefly filled the room before Aoi emerged with a first aid kit.

"Arika, you're dripping!" Aoi proclaimed as soon as she noticed the trail of blood smeared on the floors. "Here, take a seat and tilt your head back," she said as she guided the dopey eyed girl back to the chair and gently leaned her head back.

Arika rested her eyes, hoping that when she eventually did reopen them, she'd have wakened to discover that this was all one ridiculous dream. But that was unlikely; the feel of Aoi's hands on her face as she cleansed away the blood with disinfectant was all too real.

"Wait!" Arika gasped sharply as moistened cotton swab was polished along her nose. She clung to the chair as her body bolted upright in pain.

"You know," Aoi mused as Arika rigidly panted and trembled, "I don't think we're gonna get you ready in twenty minutes."

Nearly two hours after the conference began and Mashiro continued to steal glances toward the door. Masaru Pitzer had been droning on for no more than fifteen minutes as he addressed the trivial details of the property inheritance contracts. Arika had once sardonically remarked that all sound emitted from Secretary Pitzer's mouth would be better served if it were bottled and sold to insomniacs world wide.

It had hardly been an appropriate remark, particularly because the man had been in the room when she said it, but even after she chastised Arika, she couldn't help but agree with that assessment. And to think that there was still the matter of military presence and control to be discussed. Tate must have caught on to her distraction because he smiled sympathetically and playfully rolled his eyes at the long-winded State Secretary. Mashiro broke into a smile but quickly suppressed it when Secretary Pitzer cast a questioning look in her direction.

Where are you? She hadn't expected Arika to be on time but she had hoped that the special circumstances regarding this meeting would bring out the punctuality in her. Her stomach tensed with nervous queasiness. Two hours was more than just a little late and it was becoming apparent to her that Arika was not going to show.

She pulled at the Meister ring on her middle finger and twirled it. The ring came off far more easily now after she had shed the last of her baby fat. Unlike Arika's early leap into womanhood, Mashiro had remained a late bloomer well into her late teens. The differences between them used to gnaw at her whenever they stood side by side. Mashiro looked like a child whereas Arika was quickly becoming the symbol of burgeoning sexuality. Although the gap between their differences was slowly bridged over the years, it would certainly never close; as such she would always harbor a tinge of jealousy in her heart.

As it dawned on her that the man sitting across from her would be her husband in just a matter of weeks, she couldn't help but wonder what he thought of her. Does he think I'm beautiful? I'm not voluptuous like Arika or demure like Aoi. Will he find me disappointing when we...when we...

But it was difficult to imagine their bodies entwined passionately. Doubts came trickling to the surface, causing ripples in her resolve. I'm making the right choice, aren't I? I know that he doesn't love me...and I don't love him, but we need each other, and I really do like him...

"You're doing the right thing," Arika's voice chimed in her thoughts. But it wasn't a construction of her imagination. She had spoken those very words to her yesterday inside the gazebo, just as the sun sank into the horizon. The wind had picked up as the night air cooled, and Mashiro crossed her arms for warmth.

"I'm scared," she'd confessed. She must have sounded like a frightened child to Arika because she was very much aware of the rising timbre in her voice; how it trembled and sharpened in pitch. She bit self-consciously on the inside of her lip and fixed her eyes on the setting sun. Orange glint reflected off the pond around them, and it hardly seemed like water at all.

"Mashiro, about the...the thing with Gristholm," Arika began tentatively, slowly, as she sought after the right words. "I think, I think that the right thing isn't always the easiest thing to do. Sometimes...a lot of the times, it's the hardest."

The queen was struck with an near overwhelming sense of surprise. Arika had never looked more somber and resolute, yet she unexpectedly composed. She was the picture of serenity and resolution, and as much as she found comfort in it, it frightened her even more.

"You almost looked like an adult when you said that," Mashiro replied, the knot in her throat swelling. "Where did you learn that?" She chided awkwardly as she wetted lips and swallowed stiffly.

"I learned it from watching you," Arika replied simply, no pretension in her voice. There was a majesty to her poise and Mashiro could help but admire her form. The sun turned her hair into a fiery red, almost gold, and Mashiro was drawn to her like the proverbial moth. Even the blue in her eyes burned with the cool flame of the setting sun.

"You shouldn't worry, though," Arika went on. "You always do the right thing in the end. It's what you do,"

"I do, do I? You haven't always thought so."

"That's because I didn't understand. I thought that we had to do right by each person. But making choices like that...you just can't see the big picture; but you...you can and you do. You do what needs to be done, and I figure that's gotta be the right choice."

"But if we're just talking about me and not the big picture?" Mashiro replied, daring to indulge in a moment of selfishness. "It's not, is it?"

"I wouldn't say that," Arika replied. She seemed so certain and Mashiro resented her for it. How can she be so sure when I'm at such a loss? But it was more than that; not once, had Arika looked her way, and right now she needed her to see her.

Why won't you look at me?

The flickering flames died in her eyes as the sun completely disappeared into the earth, and with them any urge that might have pressed Mashiro into pursing the questions that burned in the back of her mind.

"Maybe, you're right," she replied.

Arika arrived, stumbling gracelessly through the door as she struggled to see around edges of her oversized nose guard. Her breath was heavy with urgency and her mind was too distracted to catch the door fast enough before it slammed behind her. Not the most memorable of entrances, but certainly attention grabbing; far more than could be said of the endlessness of Masaru Pitzer's speech. Most everyone welcomed the distraction, but the State Secretary had only condemnation in his eyes.

"Well, I suppose this is as good a time as any to stop for a break," Secretary Pitzer announced. "We still have a month before the actual ceremony occurs; no need to rush through all the details in just one day," but the tightness of his lips as he forced a smile suggested his desire to press forward with proceedings as quickly as possible; an insinuation that was not lost upon Arika.

The room quickly cleared but she caught a glance of Tate McAllister as he choked his laughter, which had clearly been aimed at her. He wasn't the only one; several members of the delegation honed bemused smirks on their lips as they exited the conference room.

"So this is why you were late?" Mashiro exclaimed incredulously with only the slightest discernible trace of relief, as she advanced toward her from behind.

Arika swirl around, but grimaced as pain inflamed her nose and pulsed around her eyes.

"Sorry. Aoi wouldn't let me leave until the doctor got a look at me," she explained apologetically. "But it doesn't look like I missed much."

Mashiro simply shook her head, too exasperated to say anything more. The conference room had finally been cleared with the exception of Secretary Pitzer, who lingered gawkily near the doorway, but as soon as he caught Mashiro's eye he ducked out without pause.

"So, one month, huh?" Arika declared awkwardly, fidgeting with the nose guard straps.

"One month," her queen echoed.

Arika's head felt light and heavy all at once as the pain medication gradually began to take effect in her bloodstream.

"Are you alright?" Mashiro asked as she closed the space between them. Tears had silently made their way down her cheeks. She reached a hand toward Arika's tear-stained face, but her friend pressed her hand away.

"It's okay," she replied. "The medication hasn't completely kicked in yet. The pain, it...it hurts."

"It must really be broken, then."

Arika nodded.

So many things are breaking.

Author's Note:

I realize it's been a very long time since I last updated this story, unfortunately personal and familial troubles kept me at bay, but now my concerns are mostly behind me.

I would like to apologize for my unforgiveable delay, most especially to those who have been following this silly story of mine for so long. So here it is.

Reviews and comments are always appreciated and welcome.