Author's Notes: I'm baaack~! :D I do apologize for the ridiculous wait, but there honestly wasn't much I could do at the time. I've had to move three times in less than a year, and that leads to notes getting buried and misplaced for different lengths of time. (Yes, I'm old-fashioned and write most things out by hand before typing them up for posting later). Anywho, I'm determined to sit my bum down and finish up these last few chapters! As always, Constructive Criticism is always welcomed.

Ceteris Paribus

Chapter Fifteen: Friendship Caught on Fire

Mako frowned as she studied her partner in front of her.

For his part, Takeru simply stared back at her in befuddlement, trying to figure out what had brought upon her sudden mood change.

She had been jumpy and tense the last few days – they all had. It was expected after the King's untimely entrance. Takeru suspected that the loss of Kotoha's constant companionship was also gnawing at her frayed nerves; he knew Chiaki had become increasingly prickly with each passing day, confined to this room, unable to fulfill his duties as well as being separated from the girl who lit up the room like the sun itself with her smile.

But Ryunosuke and Genta both had been seamless in their duties – traveling back and forth between the two while still carrying out their assignments flawlessly, if not without the slightest show of exhaustion. They were figuring out a system, a way to rework their plans to keep everything running smoothly and covertly just as before.

When he finally couldn't take her scrutiny anymore, Takeru spoke up.

"What's wrong?"

Mako jumped at the sudden question and he bit back a sigh. She flushed slightly at her actions, though more for getting caught staring than anything else. "I don't like them," she answered.

When Takeru only lifted a brow in question, she explained further.

"The manacles," she indicated with a graceful wave of her hand. "They're rubbing your skin raw."

Takeru glanced down at his wrists, noting the red, irritated skin peeking out from the edges. He'd be lying if he said his wrists, ankles and neck weren't sore, but compared to other injuries he'd acquired over his life, they were nothing more than an annoyance that he could easily push into the back of his mind.

"I've had worse," he reminded her, wishing he could take the words back an instant later when he saw the wince on her face.

Takeru reached out his hand, the merry clinking of chains announcing his movement, and gently cupped her cheek, making her look at him once more. "I'm okay," he told her softly.

Mako held his hand to her cheek with one hand, the other she gently laid her cool fingertips across the inflamed skin and watched him start, then relax slightly at the touch. She couldn't hold back her soft smile. "I'll ask Ryunosuke for a balm, all the same. It'll help."

Takeru nodded quietly, opening his mouth to reply when a sharp rapping came at the door.

Immediately the couple broke away, but halted when they recognized the voice on the other side.

Mako visibly sagged back into her chair when her aforementioned childhood friends strode briskly through the doors. She placed a trembling hand over her pounding heart and sighed quietly, "thank heaven."

Takeru shot her a tight smile as Ryunosuke bowed low before her.

"Hime," Ryunosuke's tense tone had Mako sitting up straight in her seat in an instant. "I came to warn you as soon as I heard – there's a new servant who has been assigned to bring your refreshments. He will be arriving shortly."

Mako felt a thrill of terror lance through her before a surge of anger followed swiftly behind it. "The King's doing?" she asked, knowing the answer full well already.

Ryunosuke straightened from his position, his face grim. "I'm afraid so." He glanced quickly over at Takeru. "Genta heard it straight from the kitchen's mouths."

Takeru frowned but nodded in acceptance of the information. He knew the king would plan something like this soon enough, but it didn't mean he had to like it. Things were already complicated enough without a spy directly from the king thrown into the mix.

"Are you ready Hime?" Ryunosuke's voice was quiet, trying to be soothing though he knew how desperately the next few hours needed to go off without a hitch.

Mako felt her nerves flare, swarms of butterflies taking up residence in her stomach. A muscle in her back, one just below her neck pinched sharply from the sudden tenseness of her shoulders. Mako sunk her head into her hands, trying to push back the fear. "No," she whispered. She breathed in deeply for a moment before sliding her hands back down and meeting her friend in the eye. "But we don't have a choice."

The sound of metallic jewelry sliding against itself accompanied a warm, bracing hand on her lower back and Mako looked up to see Takeru trying to smile at her comfortingly.

"I'll be with you every step of the way," he assured her. "Just like Genta showed us."

Mako nodded, too afraid to open her mouth to respond less her nerves get the best of her.

Ryunosuke did his best to avert his eyes from the tender affection between the two, still more than upset at the development, but less so than the heaping pile of muck they were all currently neck-deep in. It grated at every instinct he had in protecting her, but if he was honest with himself, there was a tiny part of him now that was both relieved and grateful that Takeru could be there for Mako in a way none of them could any longer.

There was a quiet knock at the door that made Mako start, but Takeru's firm hand kept her mostly steady. She nodded to Ryunosuke to let the man in, looking at Takeru once last time before bracing herself to hurriedly step out of his semi-embrace.

She gasped slightly when he leaned in and kissed her chastely on the cheek before quickly making his way over to stand as unobtrusively as possible against the far wall.

Mako stood in a momentary daze, shaking out of her own head only when she heard the door opening and Ryunosuke's voice speaking to the person on the other side.

On silent, quick feet she settled herself on her settee, propping the book she had left there up on her knee and fixated her eyesight on it, even if she wasn't taking in a single word. She tamped down on her flush with all her might and schooled both her body and facial features into a relaxed position as Ryunosuke announced the newcomer and gestured for him to enter.

Mako purposely ignored the new servant, her appearance seemingly cool and unflappable to the man who brought in her tray of afternoon refreshments. It wasn't hard to play this part – she didn't feel the need to be cordial to the king's lackey. Especially when she could feel him watching her every minute movement with intense interest.

She was tempted to roll her eyes at the obvious display, but then again, her father was never known for his subtlety, why should she expect his loyal followers to be any different? Instead she concentrated on the book in front of her, turning the pages almost lazily, as if she was quickly growing bored with the activity.

Mako waited until the servant had finished his work, Ryunosuke watching him intensely the entire time.

No one was fooled; everyone knew he was a spy sent in by her father to ensure things were "going as planned." Anyone else would be stupid to try an assassination against Mako right now. Everyone was too high on alert, including herself, to try and get near her. Every person from the King's many wives, to their children, to the lowest servant had heard of her father's intrusion into her quarters.

It was a good thing Mako had developed thick skin a long time ago or the smirks and whispered voices as she passed by them in the halls would have sent her running for cover instantly.

Swarms of butterflies erupted in her stomach as she braced herself for what she knew she had to do next, while the witness was still present. She just had to remember Genta's words; she had to pretend like she was on display amongst the other Ladies – to act the same way here as she did then.

Her eyes flicked to Takeru's, his eyes meeting hers as if knowing exactly what was going on in her mind.

The barest of nods from him and Mako braced herself internally, steeling her heart and mind.

Mako rose sinuously from her seat, her face saying she hadn't a care in the world, before sauntering over to Takeru with a graceful sashay of her hips. She kept her expression intent on Takeru, but out of the corner of her eye she could see the servant glance over at her.

With a sultry smile she stopped in front of Takeru and reached out with a hand to gently stroke it up his arm.

This feels so stupid, she groaned on the inside, tamping her blush down with every ounce of willpower she owned.

All our lives depend on it, she reminded herself. Sell it until the idiot watching us believes it!

Mako sidled closer until her chest was flush against Takeru, one of her legs sliding out from beneath the confines of her skirt to brush purposely against his, inviting him closer.

"It's that time," she whispered, appalled inside that the words were even leaving her mouth as her hands traveled up to his face, urging his head down as she rose up on tiptoe to capture his lips with hers.

Instantly, just as before, Mako felt that unseen force pull her closer to him at their touch.

Time stood still for one breathless moment, willing her to leave the world and everything else in it behind.

She felt eyes boring into the back of her head and Mako was jolted back to reality with a crashing force, just barely managing to catch herself from jerking away in embarrassment from the public display. Ever so slowly she broke off the kiss, leaning back as she did so, so that Takeru appeared to be chasing after her lips as if he couldn't seem to get enough.

She grinned as if she had just won the game and looked into Takeru's eyes.

Her heart slammed against her chest at the look there.

Sweet heaven above, she felt her knees going weak at the intensity of his stare, the hunger that lingered there. He's a greater actor at this then I'll ever be. How does he make it look so real? So convincing? I feel like an idiot, dancing around here, but he's making me look like I've practiced this every moment of my life since I was old enough to be taught such!

She made her grin widen further and grasped Takeru by the hand, pulling him behind her with an eagerness that belied the intense nerves and embarrassment coursing through her veins. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stopped abruptly at her door, spinning on her heel to lean against its solid frame and pulling Takeru close once more.

She lost herself in the sensation of the warmth of his hands resting on her hips, stroking warm circles, unable to suppress a shudder as his fingers occasionally brushed at skin as her top rose higher, her own arms reaching up to encircle his neck and draw him close. She guided Takeru's head away from her lips and directed him to her neck where he began planting butterfly-like kisses as he traveled down to her shoulder.

Mako could feel the trembling in her limbs, her legs ready to collapse out from underneath her any second from the heat that was surging through her at every delicate brush of his lips against her skin.

She knew she was supposed to be the one leading this dance. If the spy thought, for any reason, that Mako was not firmly in control of this situation, the words would be whispered in her father's ear faster than she could blink and Takeru would be ripped from her side before sunset.

So with tremendous effort Mako reached up to stroke Takeru's hair, as if encouraging him on as her eyes sought Ryunosuke's in the room.

It was all she could do not to break the entire scene in a burst of laughter at the unabashed shock that registered on his face.

Ryunosuke stood frozen in place, his hand hovering just above the book he had been about to pick up from the table. His eyes looked like they were ready to pop out of his head and his jaw had nearly dropped to the floor.

Her eyes darted to the spy in her room, noting that he too was watching the display in much the same fashion.

Intensely grateful that the spy appeared to have missed Ryunosuke's reaction, Mako stared at her childhood friend until he met her eyes.

She smiled in supreme confidence, her eyes filled with a knowing twinkle. "I think I'll be occupied for quite some time." She bit down hard on a gasp that threatened to break from her as Takeru found some spot on her neck that left jolts of what felt like lightening traveling through her system.

She waited until she could breathe past the sensation, covering the moment by turning to place a kiss on the top of Takeru's head, looking for all the world like a proud mistress indulging in her pet's whims.

"Be sure to keep my tea warm for me," she told Ryunosuke with an audacious wink as her free hand fumbled for the door, all but falling inside as the once solid support gave way beneath their weight at its sudden release.

She didn't see Ryunosuke's awestruck nod as Takeru all but kicked the door shut behind them.

The instant the door slammed shut firmly they froze, hearts pounding in their chests, arms still embracing once another from the show they had put on in the other room.

Ever so slowly they untangled limbs and chains until they stood in front of each other, breathing heavily.

Mako finally gave in to her shaking legs and fell with a thump right to the floor, her hands immediately moving to hide her face as she flushed a brighter crimson than ever in her life. Her groan was muffled by her hands but audible all the same.

"That was mortifying," she whispered. "Having them stare at us like that."

She heard the metal clinking of chains as Takeru moved to kneel in front of her, his fingers tenderly easing her hands away from her face. She flushed harder when her eyes met his.

"If they couldn't stop watching, then you did it right," he assured her. "The spy will be off as fast as his legs can carry him to tell his king the 'good news.'" Takeru's face was carefully blank. "Your father should be well pleased at your performance."

Mako's eyes fell to his hands still holding hers. "I think your reactions to my advances were probably what convinced them the most. I don't know how you were able to act the part so well. I felt like I was stumbling through every motion; it had to be too obvious I was making it up as I went until you started to play your part."

Takeru cleared his throat suddenly, unable to look at her even though she too had averted her eyes. "I was simply following your lead," he tried to assure her. "You were….very convincing."

Too lost in her own mortification, Mako missed the earnest insistency in Takeru's voice.

They glanced at each other shyly, both feeling the power of their bodies' reactions to the other, but only hearing the words of pretend spilling from their lips, that every moment had been strategized, played out like a fool's theatre for their willing audience.

"What do we do now?" Mako's voice was quiet. She watched as Takeru joined her on the floor, making himself as comfortable as possible within the confines of his chains.

He gazed about the room, his eyes making note of every detail.

"This is your private quarter then?"

Mako nodded, amazed that a blush could still form after all the color that had filled it already. "My personal sanctuary," she told him in a soft voice. "Only Ryunosuke and Kotoha have ever been permitted inside before."

Takeru's eyes caught on the simplicity and comfort of her room, every item there because she had personally chosen it for its meaning or its usage. It was a room that spoke of someone who wasn't into frivolous necessities, but still admired the beauty and aesthetics of the decorous items that were there.

His eyes widened slightly at a silken scroll hanging in one nook, it's bold, elegant script all too familiar, sending an intense pain of nostalgia lancing through him.

Mako saw where Takeru's eyes had fixated and she smiled softly. "My mother brought it with her from her home," she told him quietly. "It was one of the few things that she carried with her – a small piece of where she was from."

Takeru turned to her in astonishment. "Your mother was from Ten no Michi?"

Mako nodded. "It was an arranged marriage, one of Father's first I think." Her gaze wandered over to the beautiful scroll, the familiar ache of loss and comfort seeping into her as she stared at it. "It was hoped that he could form an alliance between the two countries, but mother passed away when I was very young." Her eyes darkened. "They claim it was an accident."

"You don't believe them?" Takeru asked softly, checking himself before he tried to reach out to grasp her hands in his, to give her some comfort. He reminded himself that what had transpired in the other room was nothing but an act and kept his arms firmly in place in his lap.

"No," her voice was a whisper. "I wasn't very old, I can't see her as clearly as I would like, but she was a delicate, graceful person. Ryunosuke's mother told me once that my mother had been rather fragile since birth, but her beauty had caught my father's eye nonetheless and he had insisted on no one else but her for the marriage alliance." Her eyes darkened, her expression stiff in distaste. "You've seen how quickly my father acts towards those who do not please him."

Mako started slightly at the whisper of fingers along her cheekbone, gently tracing over the fading mark of her father's anger. She smiled forlornly, indulging in the touch as she closed her eyes to better feel the sensation.

"From the rumors and whispers I have gathered, he came to her chambers that night and I never saw her alive again."

"Do you know what happened?" Takeru's voice was curious but gentle, his tone saying that she didn't have to answer him if she didn't feel like it.

"He got angry and hit her. She wasn't strong to begin with, hadn't braced herself for the impact… She slammed into something hard, hitting her head as she fell, and never got back up from the floor."

Chains rattled in the silence that followed her words before a warm embrace encircled her, holding her close. Her arms reached out automatically to draw in the comfort he was offering, ignoring the way the chains dug into her chest and arms as the hug tightened.

"Do you know what the words mean?"

Mako shook her head against his shoulder.

Takeru was quiet for a moment. "In your tongue it would say something akin to, 'Love without friendship is like a shadow without the sun.'"

Mako contemplated it, turning the phrase over in her head. "I like it," she decided before frowning. "I suppose my mother never had the chance to live it herself."

Takeru played with the fringes on her veil. "Most political marriages are chosen for what each side gains in the contract, not because the pair is in love. Many arranged marriages are completed at birth."

She pursed her lips, knowing what he said was true – it had happened to all of her siblings and it appeared that she would be no exception should her father get his way, but it didn't mean she had to like it. "What about you?" She ventured. "Were you promised to someone before the war?"

Takeru shook his head. "My position at home is…delicate," he hedged. "There have been no arrangements made yet."

Mako heard the ominous "yet" ring loudly in her head but shook the feeling away. What did it matter if he returned home after leaving this nightmare of a place to find that he had been promised to someone? The odds of her ever stepping foot outside the palace walls alive were slim to none at best. Why be jealous of some faceless, nameless person who would be alive and waiting for his return? It was what he deserved.

He deserved to be with someone who was thriving far from this place.

With those thoughts she gently began to pull herself from Takeru's embrace, biting her lips against her body's protests at the lack of warmth and comfort he so willingly offered.