Author's Notes: Well, it certainly has been a while since I updated this story hasn't it? Not too long I hope, though I have trouble believing that half the year has already passed us by. Just where does that time get to? Enough ramblings, enjoy! Constructive Criticism is always welcomed.

Ceteris Paribus

Chapter Nine: Love Few, Trust None

Takeru sighed deeply at feeling nearly like himself again for the first time in days. He hadn't been able to get up off the settee for longer than he had been entirely comfortable with, but both Mako and Genta had stilled his movements with a look. And while he might have been willing to put up with Genta's disapproval, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to test Mako's. She was stronger and more intelligent than she appeared to be, and held a great deal of power in this place – even if she refused to use most of it.

Ever since his quiet admission to her when he had first woken up, neither he nor Mako had attempted to speak to each other. He suspected it was largely from Ryunosuke's watchful eye as her throat healed than a lack of curiosity. On the contrary, her eyes all but burned with unasked questions and Takeru was still trying to steel himself for the fast approaching day when he knew he'd be confronted with them. The only problem was he wasn't sure how he would answer.

Takeru found that he was…uncomfortable with the idea of lying to her, even if he largely suspected that that keen mine and sharp eyes of hers would detect the falseness in his tone before he could get more than two words out. He couldn't explain it but he felt almost guilty at the thought of lying to this princess – even if she was his enemy. It was becoming starkly obvious that she had enough troubles of her own to deal with. Perhaps he just didn't feel like adding to her burdens? He refused to think of the other reasons – the plethora of feelings and motives he just couldn't seem to find answers to as of late.

And those were dangerous thoughts.

One false step here could spell the doom of them all – those inside the castle and without. He couldn't – wouldn't – risk all of those lives for one woman.

Entire nations were at stake, personal feelings were not allowed to overshadow those by even the slightest degree.

He sighed again as the elegant script arose in his mind's eye once more. Ever since Genta had shown him that note, Takeru had felt a lead weight drop into his stomach. 'Get close to her,' the note had read, followed by a brief and succinct explanation as to why in case he got it into his head to protest the order, something he would have done had he not seen the logic behind it. The orders hadn't come from an underling nor had it been written by a messenger of the court – the only reason he hadn't disregarded it at first glance.

"You know me too well," he mumbled to the memory before stifling a groan as he made to stand from the makeshift tub that had been placed in the first Princess' rooms.

Takeru had definitely been in need of a through wash after his illness, but as a marked slave no one was allowed to give him much aid in the matter. If he wanted to be clean he was expected to drag himself down to the slaves' quarters and wash up there. Mako had put her foot down on the matter when it had been suggested to her by Genta. When Takeru's childhood friend had asked if she planned on bathing him herself she had flushed a lovely shade of red before calling in the large copper tub and having it filled.

As the First Princess of the Court – and a rather odd princess at that, no one seemed to even so much as blink at the strange request. And as she didn't seem to make outrageous requests on principle, those loyal to her must have known there was a perfectly reasonable, valid purpose to her wish and had it carried out at once rather than the dragging feet some servants were known for.

Takeru bit back a wince as he dried off the still sore area around his newest wound – it was healing remarkably well, but the still tender skin protested at his rubbing.

He studied the clothing that was supplied to him as he began pulling on the layers. It was simple and unadorned by any kind of decoration, but he suspected it was made of a more decent material than most that walked the streets in the market of this kingdom. The navy blue material should have been oppressive in this heat but it breathed extraordinarily well and the uncomplicated design of it made dressing with his still healing arm easier than his own native clothing, which involved several layers and intricate knots.

He had just tightened the chords along the waistline of his trousers when a polite knock sounded at the door before a flurry of red and gold silk swirled into the room. He froze with his hands on the tunic top that still lay upon the table, glancing over to see wide brown eyes meet his own.

Mako stood frozen just within the room, her eyes locked on the half-dressed man standing in its center. She had assumed he'd be done with his bathing by now, and while she had been correct in that assumption, it was alarmingly apparent that she should have waited just a few more minutes for him to dress.

She felt a flush creep over her cheeks as she dropped her eyes in embarrassment. "I'm sorry!"

Mako cringed at her squeaking voice. She sounded like a flustered child! What was wrong with her? It wasn't like she hadn't seen a man without his shirt on before. Many of the Ladies had their slaves do their bidding in nothing more than ragged undergarments.

She approached him haltingly, her eyes flickering up as fast as she looked away, unsure where to rest her eyesight. "I apologize for interrupting," she continued. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Genta mentioned something about you maybe drowning in the tub if you went through your energy levels too quickly. I am sure it was a jest but…" She bit her lip and studied his face, searching for any signs of weariness. "You are alright?"

Takeru nodded, the dark navy tunic top still clutched in his hands. Genta, he frowned inside, knowing his friend was probably doubled up somewhere in laughter at his own prank. He refocused on the young woman next to him and realized with a lurch that she was much closer than he had thought. She was frowning at something intently on his back. He turned his head slightly to see, but couldn't make out what she was looking at so fixedly. All he could see was the red, sheer material of the veil she wore on her head, the gold embroidery delicate and smooth without being gaudy. He felt his muscles lock when her hand rose up as if to touch the bare skin of his back.

Mako's breath caught in her throat as she realized that what she had thought was a strange shadow on Takeru's back was a scar. When she had peered closer she was horrified to find that his back seemed to be littered with them. Some were obviously battle scars, once deep and jagged but had been healed proficiently, leaving behind clean, light marks on the skin. But some of these marks seemed fresher than the others – more recent, still pink and almost angry looking.

She felt nausea rise in her stomach and her hand rose to hover just above the offending marks. She knew what they were from, where they were from, even if she didn't know the exact methods that had been used to contrive them.

"So many," her voice came out in a stunned whisper as her fingertips followed the angry roadmap up his back and towards his shoulders. Her eyes located a line that was still shining bright in its healing, one that started at his shoulder and traced down to his elbow. This time her fingertips gently grazed over the top of the newest line, tracing its path from its beginning to end.

Takeru couldn't suppress the shiver her touch brought to his skin as her cool fingers ghosted over his wound.

Mako jumped as if she had been shocked by lightning, whirling around as fast as she could to cover her heated cheeks with the palms of her hands. "I'm so sorry!"

Flustered, Takeru fumbled with his new clothing as he struggled to get the tunic on as fast as he could, exceedingly grateful for the long sleeves that were common for the men here so that his scars were completely covered. He made a small coughing noise to let her know he was finished when she didn't turn back around.

Mako peeked over her shoulder, her veil covering most of her face as she glanced back at the now clothed man behind her. She met his eyes with a faint flush before turning back around, her skirts shifting gracefully with her every movement. "I was wondering," she hesitated, suddenly unsure. "That is, if you're up to it of course… I thought you might want to get some fresh air."

Takeru watched her steadily, his head tilting slightly in question.

"You have to be feeling rather cooped up in here – I don't think you've been out of my rooms since you were first brought to them, and after being laid up for so long you must be itching to stretch your legs a little." Mako could feel herself rambling, a feeling she wasn't accustomed to and wasn't entirely sure she liked.

"I thought slaves weren't allowed to wander about here."

Mako's eyes widened in surprise at the deep voice that met her ears, a sound she hadn't heard often before and was startled to realize she had missed. Her smile grew, unable to suppress the feeling that raced through her veins as it dawned on her that this was the first time he had truly spoken to her directly.

"Yes," she nodded. "However, they are allowed to go where ever their…mistresses permit." She flushed as she stumbled over the terminology. She fiddled with the simple gold band around her wrist, twisting in back and forth in a sudden fit of nerves.

"I won't force you to go," she promised. "If you do not feel up to it, or if you would rather keep a low profile here in my quarters I would understand. However, you are more than welcome to join me on my walk. I have a place that I go to that is generally quiet and unpopulated by others in the palace; it would give you some fresh air and sunshine that would aid in your healing."

Takeru felt a wry smile tug at his lips. "After the introduction your father made of me in front of your entire court, keeping a low profile is highly unlikely while I remain here."

Mako's ears picked up the meaning behind his words, meeting his eyes in a guarded, wary understanding but neither commented further on the subject. Both knew that there were only two options for him – to escape or to die here. Neither knew which outcome would come to play, only that her father wouldn't ignore his presence for too long, especially if the battles turned ill for her country.

"I…apologize for the manner of your introduction," she said instead. "I am embarrassed to admit it, but I honestly paid little attention to your presentation at my coming-of-age ceremony. I was more concerned about other matters. It was wrong of me; everyone deserves to be noticed."

Takeru felt an eyebrow rise at her admission. "Don't most princesses ignore their slaves until they are needed?"

"I believe you have been here long enough to know that is not always the case," Mako countered. Her smile was quiet, her eyes tired.

Takeru nodded slowly, feeling the supple leather around his neck follow his movements. "Thank you," he began slowly, searching for the right words for this oddest of conversations – a high-born princess outright apologizing to a slave for something she had not even done herself. "I am grateful for having some freedom back, if only in movement." He held up his arms, the lack of clinking metal echoing silently in the quiet room.

Mako nodded, accepting his gratitude without words. She honestly was having difficulty in finding the right things to say. This conversation was so…formal, an exchange between royals of equal footing in mannerisms, even if nothing about their situation indicated such. She was still not entirely convinced he was who all said he should be – she wouldn't believe it until he told her such, and she wasn't completely positive she'd believe it then either.

His stance was defensive, stiff, his eyes were still guarded. He was hiding much, guiding her to more questions for every one she garnered an answer to. Of course, she wasn't entirely being honest and open with him either…

She smiled to hide her thoughts, her hands folded in front of her elegantly. "All this formality has my feet itching to leave these cramped quarters, would you care to join me in relocating to a brighter, more open space, Takeru?"

Takeru hid his amusement at calling her personal rooms cramped, but he could agree that their awkward decorum had made the walls seem to creep in closer than he was entirely comfortable with. Before he could give his actions too much thought, he bowed in the style of his courts, his hands placed firmly at his sides, dipping forward from the waist, "It would be my honor, Princess."

When he met her eyes again, his body tense as he awaited her reaction he found her face to be lit up by a true smile, acknowledging his actions with a deep nod.

"The pleasure would be all mine," she returned, feeling a thrill go through her at recognizing the bow as one from Caelestis Via. She beckoned with her finger and he drew closer as she slipped something out of a concealed pocket within the folds of her skirts. Dangling from her fingertips was a small, silver medallion hanging from a silken chord, a tiny etching finely carved across its surface.

Takeru studied the etching closer, "A bird?"

"A flower actually, though it does look like a bird in flight, doesn't it?" Mako's smile deepened. "I saw a drawing of it once in one of Ryunosuke's books when we were younger and I couldn't get the image out of my head. I took it as my own personal symbol when I was declared old enough to have one." She didn't add that being "old enough" meant that she had survived childhood without perishing from illness or deliberate attempts on her life from both within and outside the court.

"It's called a Habenaria radiate," she elaborated. "I think in the common tongue it means a 'White Egret Flower.'"

"Sagiso," Takeru whispered, finally recognizing the depiction.

Mako looked at him in question.

"It's the name for it in my home country," he explained, his voice quiet.

It was Mako's turn to look surprised.

Takeru shook himself to banish the sudden homesickness that set in and focused on the item itself instead. "What is this for?"

"Those who serve their Ladies wear the symbol of their mistress when walking about the women's Inner Sanctum alone," she explained. "It lets everyone know they have permission to be there, especially if they're male." She eyed him sternly. "I don't plan on letting you wander around on your own – too many would be quick to take advantage of you – but in case we ever get separated, you'll have it for protection, or what little it will grant you if you're not immediately recognized." She slipped it gently around his head to settle it about his neck, tucking it into the collar of his tunic.

Takeru touched the small medallion through the fabric of his clothing, more than a little stunned that this woman before him kept offering aid and protection when he should have found nothing but spurn, pain and humiliation in this household.

Trust her Take-chan, Genta's words echoed back in his ears.

"Thank you." Takeru's voice was humble as he watched a quick smile alight in her eyes before she motioned for him to follow her out the door.

After so many weeks inside Mako's quarters, Takeru found the sudden open halls to be too spacious. Too easy to hide an enemy behind, one that would be quick to take advantage and dispose of them all too quickly.

He wondered if he was becoming paranoid.

Takeru kept a respectful distance from the First Princess, following behind her at a few paces, but always within her eyesight. The bright red fabric of her skirts danced along with her graceful footsteps, the golden embroidery catching the rays of the sun and making the fabric glow warmly. He marveled at the tops the women wore here – the lack of sleeves would have been downright scandalous in his country. The only time a woman bore her shoulders to a man was if she were his lover, unless she was a woman of the night, then her shoulders were meant to deliberately draw the eyes of a man, beckoning them inside with a sultry smile.

Takeru blinked the image away before his traitorous thoughts could lead him too far down a path he dared not venture.

Mako turned her head slightly to check that he was still close behind her and her small, quiet smile hit him like a sudden punch to the gut. His footsteps never faltered but he felt his heart trip and he cursed himself for acting like a boy who had just caught sight of his first forbidden woman.

A tiny voice in his head wearily acknowledged that for all intents and purposes, Mako was a forbidden woman. He couldn't afford her affections – in more ways than one in his current state – and the women of this court were actually trained in the arts of promised passion and false words.

He began to wonder who was crazier – the order from the note to get closer to such a potential woman, Genta for telling him to trust her, or Takeru himself for wanting to do both of his own free will, even when a loud voice inside his head still cautioned him against it, to not dive to readily nor too deep.

Takeru was so lost in his thoughts that he nearly crashed into Mako when she halted suddenly just inside a high-arching doorway that led out into dazzlingly sunshine. Fortunately, long-trained instincts were paying more attention than he and Takeru managed to stop his steps just short of embarrassment and mockery.

He noted that Mako's posture had gone absolutely rigid even as her face appeared to be perfectly serene.

He heard a false, sugary greeting as a small group of Ladies paused momentarily in front of Mako. They didn't give the pretense of a smile; their sneers shoved their noses into the air as if they smelled something strange. And their cold, beady eyes did nothing to hide their contempt as they took in Mako's form before quickly glancing at her traveling companion and dismissing him just as quickly – he was fundamentally beneath their acknowledgement.

"Why, hello Princess," a woman in a hideous shade of orange smiled derisively, not even bothering to grant Mako the proper bow afforded to her title. "What brings you so far from your cave? Surely you're not bored with your new companion so quickly?"

The three women behind her snickered openly.

"Perhaps she's trying him out in a new location," the woman standing next to her mocked. Her outfit was such a vivid green it almost hurt to look at where the sun shone on it, casting a sickly hue to her skin.

"Now Ladies," another began, her tone playfully scolding. "Maybe she simply wants to humiliate him further – in front of the entire Inner Sanctum. And afterwards she would invite us all to share him; he can't be a total loss, even if he is our country's enemy, if she would keep herself locked up with him for so long." Takeru wondered if the tremendous amount of gaudy looking jewelry she wore around her neck gave her a backache at the end of the day.

The last woman, one who appeared to be with child, let out a horrified gasp. "Where are his bindings? He's your father's sworn enemy Princess. He needs to remain locked up!"

"Now, now," the woman with the overstocked necklaces chided. "We wouldn't want our dear, delicate First Princess bruising from her play, now would we?" She gave the women with her meaningful glances. "Those heavy chains would leave very obvious marks wouldn't they?" She none-too-subtly gestured at Mako's neck where she still hid her healing bruises behind a red gossamer scarf.

Takeru discreetly watched Mako from the corner of his eye, feeling anger racing through his veins. Where these Ladies suicidal or just plain stupid? Mako was the First Princess – she ranked over all of them and could have them punished for their brazen, undignified comments. And he honestly couldn't say that they wouldn't deserve whatever she deemed fit.

Mako however seemed as calm and composed as ever, her features perfectly controlled as she let their insults wash over her like fleeting summer rain.

When they didn't get the reaction they were hoping for, the orange colored woman switched tactics. "I think Father did her a favor. This new one must be refreshing for her after having only that servant of hers that's been following her around like a dog since we were children. She has him trained so well, it was time she practiced her charms on a new piece of filth or else her skills might fade."

The woman whose dress made her look nauseous laughed in a high, irritating pitch. "She's probably lent that dog to the little horse brat so she can finally get in some practice of her own. You know she'll need it if she has any hopes of being married off one day."

"Lady Aaliyah," Mako's tone was composed but held an edge of steel in it. "I do hope you're feeling well today." The woman in green stopped laughing in her confusion. "You look positively ill. Perhaps it is simply the grotesque coloring of your clothing, but I'm concerned your frequent dalliances with the guards upon the Western Gate may have given you trouble that will be hard to hide from our Father. I'm sure you could explain away your morning sickness with a mild illness, but the weight gain will be hard to hide for much longer unless you're betrothed soon. I warned you to take your tea."

Mako shifted her gaze to the pregnant woman. "I understand you are new here and so the weather is not what you are accustomed to Lady, so allow me to forewarn you. Stuffing your dresses with padding will not keep the King's hands off you for very long, and will only serve to make you overheated as the summer's heat increases."

Sharp brown eyes turned to the woman in orange. "I would worry about your own skills Lady Laela. How angry will Father be if you do not live up to his expectations when even the servants laugh about your ungainly advances?"

Takeru watched in fascination as eyes that were usually warm and inviting now reflected cold flint as they lit upon the last woman in the now mortified group. "I wouldn't share pig slop with you Kamilla, let alone another human being. You go through more slaves than the rest of the women in this sanctum combined."

"That's Lady Kamilla to you," the woman snarled.

"I'll call you a lady when you begin to act like one," Mako stated evenly. "You can dress in all the tremendous amounts of gold jewelry you like; it won't blind others to your cruelty and malice."

Takeru tensed as Lady Kamilla's eyes narrowed in hatred, her hand twitching like she itched to either hit the First Princess or get her hands around her neck.

"They're slaves," the woman hissed. "They're below even the filthiest, most dire peasants in our kingdom. That one," she pointed at Takeru with a sharp nail, "is the sworn enemy of our country! He and his men have killed countless numbers of our people."

"Have we not killed countless numbers of theirs as well?" Mako's brow rose delicately. "Or are you suggesting that we are losing this war?"

The woman twittered behind the two at combat with each other – what Mako suggested was grounds for treason in this kingdom. To suggest that they were losing was on par with proposing that the king was weak, that he was unfit to lead the wars, let alone rule.

People had been killed for less.

"You're supposed to humiliate him Princess, not heal him!" Lady Kamilla snapped, her cheeks flaring in color.

Now Mako's other brow rose to meet its twin in surprise. "I had no idea you preferred your men sick and feeble Kamilla. What unusual tastes you have. I, however, prefer someone with a little more stamina."

Lady Kamilla's jaw worked to form a retort but nothing came out but a strangled sound of rage.

"Good day Ladies," Mako gave full courtesies to each as if they had all been simply talking about the weather. She beckoned for Takeru to follow as she led him out into the marvelous, inviting sunshine.

"For your sake I hope someone is watching your back for you Princess," Lady Kamilla had apparently finally found her voice. "Next time you're caught unawares, it'll take more than a flimsy scarf to hide the damage."

"Keep walking," Mako whispered as Takeru gave a cautionary glance back to make sure the enraged lady wasn't coming for them with a hidden knife. He was slightly relieved to note that the group of women appeared to be content to stay in the shadows, their piercing glares the only things aimed at Mako's back for the moment.

Takeru cleared his throat, unsure where to begin.

"Not yet," Mako's whisper was more urgent. "If you don't want anyone knowing you've broken your vow of silence, wait until we're further in."

Takeru swallowed his burning questions as he kept pace with Mako, her strides calm and unhurried as she led him through a bright, open courtyard and into a lush, green garden.

The temperature instantly seemed to drop and he relaxed slightly in the cooler air – glad to be away from the intense heat that had begun to burn the back of his neck. He followed alongside her silently until they reached a quiet, secluded garden tucked in a back corner behind a wall of flowering jasmine, a small water fountain burbled merrily in front, blocking the view of the arched entrance from the outside.

Not until they reached an old magnolia tree within the hidden garden did Mako finally halt, releasing a deep, long breath before turning to face Takeru.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted," she began. "I hope I didn't embarrass you." She frowned slightly. "I know it was childish, but I don't tolerate insults against my friends and loved ones in my presence."

Takeru studied her. "Your words were in reaction to what they said about others? Not about you?"

Mako sighed. "I know I should watch my tongue – that it's unbefitting of a lady, but when they talk about anyone I care about…I just get so angry."

If that was Mako angry, he was almost afraid to find out what she'd be like if she was infuriated. Even in her anger she had remained seemingly cool and collected. He wondered what it would look like to see her fury unleashed and pitied the fool who dared to try.

Mako took in deep, steadying breaths, willing her anger away, willing the bite of cruel words and even darker threats to the little box in her mind she shut them in tightly to study later. Not now. Not here. Not in front of others.

"Those women seemed intent on causing you harm."

Mako waved his worries away. "Most of them are largely harmless. The only things they can fling at me are insults."

"What about that last one? Kamilla?" He crossed his arms over his chest as if daring her to argue against what had been an obvious, open threat.

Mako shrugged, keeping a firm grip on that box locked inside her. "I wouldn't put it past her to have hired that assassin, or any of the others who have come before." She seated herself gracefully on the soft grassy area around the old magnolia, leaning her back against the soft bark with a quiet sigh of peace. She peeked over at Takeru to see him still standing in the same spot, frowning down at her.

She raised a brow at his stance. "Are you concerned for me O' enemy of our country?" Her eyes were teasing even as her words reminded him sharply of their positions.

"You show a distinct lack of regard for your own safety," he deadpanned. "You'll protect others' reputations before your own, heal those who are your kingdom's foes, and worry more about the health and well-being of those below your station than allowing yourself to heal."

"Shouldn't all those who are born to one day rule a country?" Mako's quiet voice hit Takeru harder than if she had yelled. His arms dropped to his sides.

"I'm not suicidal," she continued in the same soft voice as her gaze traveled away from him to stare off at something only she could see. "I have no intentions of dying anytime soon, not in this place."

Takeru shot her a sharp look as he shifted closer to where she was sitting.

Her lips lifted into an exhausted smile, her voice dropping to just above a whisper so that he nearly missed her words. "If I didn't care about those under my protection…I would have left a long time ago."

"Why not take them with you?" His tone was just as quiet.

Mako's smile was weary. "I can't take an entire country with me now, can I?"

He watched her silently for a long time, hundreds of thoughts racing through his mind before he finally dropped down beside her in the cool grass.

"Once you're healed I'll take you up into the tree," she told him, drawing her knees closer to her chest and wrapping her slender arms around them, tucking in close to herself. "When you're up there, no one can see you; no one can find you unless they know where to look for you. For a few perfect moments you know what it's like to feel safe in your own home…"

Takeru took in her world-weary eyes, the exhausted slump of her usually perfect posture. He leaned back against the tree's trunk and breathed in the light perfume of jasmine as it floated by on a faint breeze, letting the relaxing quiet fill in the silence.

He started slightly when her head dropped on to his shoulder and he bit back a smile as she fought to keep her eyes open.

"Tired?" He teased.

Mako smiled, her ears catching the playful tone of his voice. "Just resting my eyes for a moment," she told him. "Let me know if you see any assassins or horrible ladies headed our way. We should be safe for just a few more minutes at least, especially with the tree to our backs."

Takeru took a moment to marvel that even half asleep she had still positioned them in a manner to be forewarned of any unwanted visitors, while affording them as much protection as she could in the given moment before she nodded off completely.

"Sleep," he murmured, shifting slightly so that she could sleep comfortably on his shoulder without waking with a twinge in her neck. "I'll watch over you."

Mako mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep, a tranquil smile softening her features.

Takeru felt her unguarded smile and sudden trust in him deeply unnerving.

He found his sudden and fervent urge to protect her in this sudden vulnerability frankly terrifying.

His court demanded he get closer to this young princess.

Genta had urged him to trust this odd, strong woman.

And Takeru knew with absolute certainty that he had no trouble following either of them in their insistent desires.

He was also just as sure that the more Mako's trust in him grew, the more profound her devastation would be when he used it to their advantage.

Betrayal stabs deeper in the back than any assassin's knife.