Author's Note: Hopefully it wasn't too long of a wait/cliffhanger for you. ;D Haha Enjoy! Constructive Criticism is always welcomed.

Ceteris Paribus

Chapter Seven: Lie to Me

Mako hugged her knees to her chest, watching from her corner of the room. She closed her eyes and turned away as hot tears trailed down her cheeks. Kotoha sat next to her sister, stroking her hair in an attempt to soothe her, murmuring empty reassurances.

Genta and Chiaki were holding down Takeru's limbs as Ryunosuke applied topical medication to the arm wound, causing the wounded man to jerk at the touch. All three men had tight features as they worked on their patient. Ryunosuke sanitized a sharp, thin needle in a candle's flame before lacing it with a chord of clean, strong thread. He nodded to the two others and they clamped down on the unconscious man with grim determination on their faces.

Mako covered her ears with the palms of her hands, feeling like she was going to be sick when the sounds of pain filled the room. Kotoha's arms wrapped around her tightly, keeping her centered and protected as best she could. She brushed her fingers lightly across Mako's face, drawing aside the hair she had hidden under when it was over.

"It's okay Mako, he finished," Kotoha soothed, her voice nearly inaudible. Mako just shook her head in answer. Kotoha's face was full of empathy. She knew that it was still far from over, but she had hoped to have given her sister some comfort.

"What about the poison?" Genta was urging.

"And why the hell aren't we getting a proper healer in here?" Chiaki demanded.

"They won't come," Kotoha's answer was quiet as Ryunosuke concentrated on his work.

"What do you mean they 'won't come'?" Chiaki demanded.

"He's just a slave now, whatever he was before," Ryunosuke stated blandly, his brows furrowing as he added the symptoms up in his head, knowing that he was racing against time.

"But he was wounded protecting your sister," Chiaki insisted to Kotoha, ignoring Ryunosuke's comment, as he gestured wildly in Mako's direction. "Doesn't that count for anything?!"

"Not here it doesn't," Ryunosuke muttered. Chiaki's look was incredulous; only able to sputter nonsensically in response.

"Aren't they concerned that the First Princess of the Court was nearly murdered?" Genta asked his face grim.

Kotoha and Ryunosuke exchanged quick glances, something unspoken passing between them.

Genta watched with a sharp eye. "You mentioned before that this wasn't the first time…"

"Mako," Kotoha glanced quickly at her sister. "She's…well, she's not a stranger to attacks on her life."

"Why doesn't she have a personal guard then?" Genta asked, confusion riddled across his face.

"There were but after the third one died protecting her…" Ryunosuke answered quietly as Kotoha held her sister tightly. "Hime refused to let another die for her again."

Chiaki's eyes all but popped out of his head "Three?!" he glanced quickly at the woman being comforted by her little sister. "What the hell has she done to have so many after her life?"

Ryunosuke shrugged nonchalantly. "She's the First Princess, she's the daughter of the king, her country is in the midst of a civil war against the other half of the kingdom, she stood up to the wrong Lady…take your pick, the list goes on." He stood suddenly and hurried across the room before delving deep into an ebony chest that lay all but unnoticed in the far-corner, picking out various crystal bottles seemingly at random. "It doesn't take as much as you'd think around here."

"Ridiculous," Chiaki muttered to himself. "This place is so screwed up."

Genta gave Chiaki a discreet look of warning when Kotoha shot a puzzled look Chiaki's way in response. Right when she opened her mouth to comment Genta interrupted, his voice tense. "I think he's getting worse."

Takeru was now beginning to slowly thrash about in pain, his movements becoming more pronounced as the seconds dragged on.

"I know," Ryunosuke's voice was strained. "I'm working on it."

They looked up to see him mixing together different phials into a larger one.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Chiaki asked, doubt laced in his tone.

"My mother trained me before she passed," Ryunosuke answered tightly. "I've continued to learn ever since." He turned to give Chiaki a brief glare. "As I've told you before, this isn't our first experience."

"You said three guards died," Chiaki bit back. "That's not exactly reassuring."

"Ryunosuke's saved more though," Kotoha's voice was quiet. "Or we managed to get them to a healer fast enough."

Chiaki looked like he had been slapped in the face. "How often has this happened?!"

"More often than we'd like to recall," Ryunosuke's tone was bitter.

"Ever since Mako and I were little," Kotoha answered quietly. She tried to shrug indifferently, but they could see the tense set of her body and the tight lines in her face. "Ryunosuke knows what he's doing."

"I don't think I want to know," Chiaki muttered quietly. Genta nodded firmly in assent.

"Got it," Ryunosuke announced with tense relief. "We should be in time."

Mako turned in Kotoha's embrace, her expression anxious, not daring to let herself hope just yet.

"Should be?" Chiaki asked with raised brow, scowling when Genta elbowed him to be quiet.

Ryunosuke hurried back over to Takeru whose moans of pain were becoming more audible. "He needs to ingest this orally."

"Huh?" Chiaki's confusion wasn't hard to miss.

"We need to get him to drink it," Ryunosuke re-explained through clenched teeth, asking for patience from the heavens for the second time that day.

"Oh."

Mako gently disentangled herself from Kotoha's embrace, her jaw firmly set. Kotoha looked at her sister curiously.

"Someone needs to get him to open his mouth," Ryunosuke argued as he delicately held the crystal glass close.

Genta and Chiaki exchanged shrugs before trying their hardest, but their actions only seemed to aggravate their patient more, causing fresh bouts of sweat to break out all over his body, his head moving side to side, alternately avoiding or breaking their grasps.

"We don't have a lot of time left," Ryunosuke informed them, his voice taut with tension.

"We're trying!" Chiaki argued. "It's hard trying to keep the rest of him still and get his damn mouth to open at the same time."

"He's clenching his teeth together," Genta informed the room in general. "I don't think it's going to work this way."

"We don't have any other choice," Ryunosuke urged.

"Mako?"

They looked up to see Kotoha on her feet, hovering just behind her older sister who was making her way across the floor.

Mako dropped to her knees next to Takeru's head and held out her hand in Ryunosuke's direction.

"Hime…" Ryunosuke's tone held a warning. Mako glared up at him in return. With a resigned sigh he kneeled down beside her and she retracted her hand for the moment. Genta and Chiaki watched, holding down Takeru's shaking limbs as Kotoha hovered above them, biting her lip in nervous anticipation.

Mako gently lifted Takeru's head onto her lap, wincing when he hissed a painful bout of air between his teeth. Her thoughts whirled wildly, panic lending instinct the greater pathway. She bent low to his ear, stroking his hair away from his face as she did so, trying to send some form of comfort to his unconscious form.

"Takeru," she whispered, so low that even Ryunosuke who kneeled beside her couldn't hear. "I know you're in pain," she told him, ignoring her own as her voice box protested its sudden usage. "This will help," she urged. "Please, you have to take it."

She took the crystal bottle from Ryunosuke's hand when he offered it. "You have to trust me," she pressed. "You saved my life. Let me save yours." Steeling herself for what she knew she had to do, Mako dropped her fingertips to his shoulder and pressed gently on his aggravated wound. Takeru gasped in pain and Mako seized her chance, draining the bottle herself before pressing her lips quickly against his.

A stunned silence reverberated through the room as Mako forced the antidote into Takeru's mouth from her own. The four watched in fascination as, by some miracle, Takeru swallowed and Mako slowly released his lips.

"So…" Genta attempted to break the charged silence. "Did it work?"

Ryunosuke gaped at Mako for several more minutes before Genta's question finally registered. "I – I think so," his voice came out higher than he meant it to and he cleared his throat before continuing. "It should," he amended. "We've done all we can for now." He tore his eyes away from Mako to look at Genta's questioning gaze. "It's all up to him; he'll either be able to fight it off or he won't."

Genta nodded grimly, slowly relaxing his grip on Takeru as the tremors began to fade.

Chiaki too cleared his throat, looking everywhere but at the princess in front of him. "So, uh, this place needs to be tidied up a bit." He glanced over at the all but forgotten dead man in the corner. He sighed quietly and stood. "I'll take care of him."

Ryunosuke stood too. "I'll help."

Genta studied Mako for a long moment. "So what do you think Princess? Should we move him somewhere else? Make him more comfortable?"

Mako slowly drew her gaze away from the face of the man lying in her lap. She nodded once, firmly. Between the three of them they managed to move Takeru's unconscious form to her favorite settee, making him as comfortable as they could. Kotoha rushed off into Mako's private room to gather some blankets while Genta stood and rubbed the kinks out of his neck. Mako sat on the floor next to Takeru, watching the slightly uneven rise and fall of his chest as if the sheer power of her will could keep each breath coming.

Genta looked down at Mako with an ironic smile, recalling the conversation he had just had earlier that day with Ryunosuke and shook his head. He squatted down next to her and boldly placed a hand on her shoulder.

Mako's eyes darted first to his hand than his face, questions and a returning wariness warring against her anxiety and sorrow for dominance on her features.

"He'll be fine," Genta tried his best to reassure her. "He's a strong one."

Mako's eyes narrowed in suspicion rather than relief.

Genta's smile grew as he watched her puzzling the pieces together slowly in her head. Her gaze flashed to Takeru's before returning to Genta's in sudden understanding and his grin grew larger. She all but glared in response, her body tensing up immediately.

Genta kept his voice low. "I know this is asking a lot of you – that trust is in short supply right now and with good reason." He nodded to Takeru and she watched him warily. He held her gaze. "I told you before. I've traveled a lot, been in numerous occupations of varying statuses… I've met a lot of people."

Mako read the undercurrents in his words.

"Just – just let me request that you watch over him, Princess." His eyes were intense and pleading. There was no deceit in his eyes and Mako felt some of her tension leave her. "That's all I ask."

Mako nodded but gave him a look that clearly read that they would discuss this further when she had full use of her voice again.

Genta's smile was broad and genuine. "That's fair," he assured her. "An even trade then." He stood when Kotoha came rushing back over, blankets spilling out of her arms. "Thank you Princess," he bowed respectfully before backing away, leaving behind a thoroughly curious Kotoha as he turned to help Chiaki and Ryunosuke clean up the mess left behind from the tussle.

Mako regarded the smiling man with a steady gaze before a quiet noise from Kotoha had her turning to help her sister tuck Takeru in as best they could. When they were both satisfied, Kotoha left her sister to watch over Takeru as she helped to put the room back in order.

Mako watched them for a few moments, part of her feeling guilty for not helping, but the larger part refusing to budge from her current spot. She eventually turned back to her charge and simply watched him breathe for a long time.

Timidly, she reached out a hand to run through his hair in a soothing gesture, wondering at how soft it felt beneath her fingers. Her eyes drifted to his lips and she recalled with a blush how they had felt against hers, even in that moment of desperation. Unconsciously her other hand rose to her own lips, tracing the lingering warmth there.

It was in that moment that Ryunosuke looked up from his corner of the room and paused at what he saw. Many thoughts raced through his mind the longer he watched, the most prominent of which was hope – a fervent hope that they wouldn't all live one day to regret this.

Looking back on it all later, Mako knew she could pinpoint the day that everything had changed as the day that the assassination attempt had been foiled by one of the last people she would have imagined. She also knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that had Takeru not been there, she would have been dead long before Kotoha or Ryunosuke had been able to reach her.

She knew this but was confused by it. Why would Takeru, a slave, someone who had neither loyalties nor obligations toward her, risk his life to save her own? It didn't make any sense.

If all the rumors were true than, next to her father, Takeru had every right to hate her, to take advantage of that situation and make his escape.

Her mind produced question after question for which she had no answer.

With her damaged voice from the strangulation hold, Mako was on strict orders to not speak or strain her voice for at least a week, if not more. Besides, the one person who could answer all of her questions was still lying unconscious upon her settee.

She sighed quietly as she dipped the cloth in her hands into the cool water basin at her feet, wrung it out as best she could, and replaced the one on Takeru's forehead. She frowned slightly, noting the previous head cloth's warmth.

Takeru had a fever, one that had Mako fretting endlessly, but Ryunosuke assured her it was a positive sign.

"It means his body is fighting off the poison," he had told her each time she had given him an anxious look. "As soon as the fever breaks, it will just be a matter of when he decides to wake up."

Mako was ready to throw the warm cloth across the room in frustration, but managed to contain herself by focusing on the patient in front of her. Her eyes traced his features as her mind wandered.

She felt fortunate that Takeru had someone else as invested in his well-being as her. Genta was now all but a permanent fixture in the room when he could steal the time away from his other duties. If Mako wasn't watching over him, Genta almost certainly was. Often they would be sitting in tense silence as they watched their charge.

Mako knew most of the tense atmosphere was coming from her. Genta was concerned about Takeru's health but was confident he'd be "right as rain" soon; it was Mako's suspicions and wariness that had both of them on guard.

Ryunosuke never let Mako out of his sight now unless Genta or Chiaki was in the room with her. She didn't mind. He always got like this until enough time had passed for the initial fear and panic from the latest attempt to fade into the background. She knew the cycle by heart now. It didn't bother her as much as it probably should.

Kotoha would normally be hovering around Mako like a buzzing bee, but Mako suspected her absences had a lot to do with her new guard. She would have to keep an eye on the two, monitor the situation from a safe distance, but from the way he looked at her sister, Mako was beginning to feel that there was no one better that she could entrust her sister with. She was grateful to Chiaki too, for keeping Kotoha distracted and busy, getting her out of the rooms to enjoy the day rather than being coped up with her for endless hours with nothing to do but fret.

She started slightly when she heard a noise coming from the other side of the room, her eyes flashing in anxious anticipation. She relaxed slightly when she saw that it was Genta entering, a tray balanced neatly in his hands. She hated to admit it, but perhaps she was a little more wary after this last attempt on her life – she'd never admit it to anyone lest she be the cause of more anxiety, but the would-be assassin had gotten much closer than any of his predecessors.

"Hey Princess!" Genta called out jovially. "How's our favorite patient doing today?" His grin only widened when he caught Ryunosuke's eye roll.

Mako shrugged in response and gestured toward Takeru.

"No change then?" Genta's face fell fractionally.

Mako shook her head.

"Tsk," Genta shook his head with a mischievous smile. "How anyone can remain sick with such a beautiful woman by their side every day is beyond me." Mako flushed. Ryunosuke paused in his work to look up with a warning glare. Genta stood over Takeru with his hands on his hips. "Maybe he's faking it so that he can keep you near," he flashed Mako a cheeky smile. "Or maybe he's hoping for another kiss – that might wake him up in a hurry."

Mako's cheeks burned a brilliant hue.

"Watch it," Ryunosuke growled. "You forget whom you're talking to."

Genta waved Ryunosuke's protests away. "Aww, come on. It's all in fun." He eyed Takeru with a considering expression. "Take-chan was always –"

Ryunosuke's hand jerked and knocked some of his work onto the floor, cutting Genta off in surprise. Mako threw the two of them intense looks of curiosity as Ryunosuke gaped at the other man.

"What did you call him?" Ryunosuke asked incredulous.

Genta frowned for a moment before he realized what he had said and became suddenly sheepish. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It's a nickname," he admitted reluctantly, giving Ryunosuke an apologetic look as Mako looked on, more than a little confused. When he turned to her, he caught the raised brow of question and sighed gustily.

"I…I've known Take-chan a long time," Genta admitted, watching Mako's eyebrows fly high into her hairline in surprise. His body tensed, suddenly vastly unsure. "It's a nickname I gave to him when we were kids."

Mako studied the young man before her for a long minute, his posture rigid. Ryunosuke sat at his table, shoulders tense, watching the scene unfold before him with an intensity that rivaled Mako's.

She let her eyes drift down to the unconscious man beside her, searching his blank face before searching Genta's tense one once more.

Her shoulders suddenly fell slightly, but from what, neither man in the room could discern. Eventually Mako simply nodded at Genta's admission in acceptance. She stood up slowly, handing the damp cloth in her hands to Genta before making her way to her private rooms and shutting the door behind her firmly.

Silence reigned in the room she left behind.

Genta turned to Ryunosuke guiltily. "Sorry," he apologized in a low voice. "It just slipped."

Ryunosuke was fuming. "Unbelievable."

Genta tried to shrug it off. "She already knows I know Takeru outside of this place."

"What!?"

"She found out," Genta purposely left out the fact that he had told Mako himself. "She would have figured out more eventually."

Ryunosuke looked torn between face planting into the table or throttling the man.

Mako sat on the floor, her back against the door as she rested her head against the warm wood and sighed quietly to herself.

What were you expecting? She asked herself. You already knew he knows Takeru somehow; meeting him as children isn't such a stretch.

But knowing him for so long, another voice inside her argued. That was…unexpected.

Her eyes drifted to the door behind her. But why am I so surprised? She wondered. I know next to nothing about Takeru, except for the rumors and the stories my father has spouted far and wide. There will be more secrets and surprises to come, if they're ever unveiled. She frowned slightly. It's not like secrets around here are anything new. This place is riddled with them. Secrets and lies and deceits.

She felt her body sag against the door as she rubbed the palms of her hands across her eyes. I'm just so tired of it. I'm tired of watching my back all the time, tired of wondering which new person who enters my life will be concealing a knife in his or her hands to stab me in the back with…in words or in deeds.

She let her mind drift, thinking back over the last few days as her eyes wandered over her room, over all the things she knew inside and out, the familiar and comforting.

Her fingers traced over the bruising on her neck absentmindedly. She had started wearing silken scarves around her neck to hide the marks. She had grown tired of everyone's stares after the first day.

Thinking of the ugly, tender area had her remembering the act itself and she blanched at the memories. She didn't want to think about those right now, but something else kept tugging at her, forcing her to relive those moments.

Her eyes widened in a flash as her mind recalled what she had heard during those panic-stricken moments. She had heard a voice. A voice that had called out to her, reaching to her as she fought to breathe. A voice that she had only heard once before.

Takeru, she realized. He had called out to her, called her name when he had realized what was going on. She felt a warmth bubble up inside her. He called me by name, not by title. She felt a ludicrous desire to smile from that thought. It was quickly followed up by when he had shielded her with his own body, warning the assassin not to touch her. Mako hid her face behind her hands as it warmed, though no one was around to see her flush.

She dragged her hands down, her eyes peeking out from behind her fingertips as she also recalled Takeru's weight atop her body, his warmth seeping into her from their close contact.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Mako berated herself. This isn't the time to suddenly discover you have…desires. She felt her blush deepen. This is ridiculous, she moaned. You're just confused, that's all. Takeru saved your life and you don't why. You're grateful but confused. She told herself. It's the confusion, that's what it is. Don't be going and mixing it up with…other things. Her mind flashed a memory of her lips on his and Mako groaned in dismay. Apparently she was tired of lying to herself as well, her mind stubbornly pulling up the memory of his warm hand firmly holding her steady when she had almost lost her balance reaching for a book.

Don't go down this road, Mako. She told herself sternly. You don't have the time to get…involved with someone. You have enough on your plate as it is. She hugged her arms tightly around her as she remembered her coming-of-age ceremony. This is what your father wants. You can't forget that. Don't give him the satisfaction – don't show him that you'll dance for him like a doll on a string, bowing down to his every whim and will.

You drew that line in the sand for a reason. Those – those touches, these feelings, whatever they are, they cannot be. You will not let them be. You can't afford it. She relaxed slightly under the return of calm, cool logic. Your father just wants you to play around, wants you to humiliate yourself and Takeru – whoever he really is.

You can't let more people get close, she reasoned. You can't risk putting more people in harm's way. Ryunosuke knows what he's getting himself into, and Kotoha – Kotoha has someone else watching out for her now. This is good. This is how it should be.

Besides, she told herself. Even if these…feelings are… She didn't allow herself to venture further in her examination of them. Takeru has probably only been acting without thinking. She nodded gently to herself, holding back the wince it caused her. You see someone fall, you automatically reach out to help. And when he saw the assassin… well, if it had happened right in front of him and he had done nothing, it would have meant the end of his life right there and then, for being a possible co-conspirator.

That's what it is. She convinced herself. Survival. Seeing the next morning dawn and being able to feel its warmth on your face. That's all it is. There's nothing more to it.

Mako's face dropped into her court mask as she persuaded herself to believe her own thoughts, ignoring the part of her that was afraid of what she might do if the truth she needed desperately to believe really was nothing but more lies.

That's all it is…