Saya sat in a chair by a mirror as a pair of strangers fussed with her hair and makeup, her rigid stillness not just out of a desire to aviod getting a mascara brush jabbed in her eye, but also due to the subtle tenseness that had gripped her body since early that morning.
Aka and Ruka were standing around, waiting for their turn in a separate nearby guestroom as Yuki entered, wearing what looked like a pale blue and white, floral print classic lady's suit, only with a long, flowing skirt.
"I love your dress!" Ruka commended.
"Yeah, it's way hip!" Aka added.
"Oh, thanks, I'm told it's hot off the runwa-" Yuki's voice trailed off as an object on the table caught her attention. It appeared to be a small jewelry box of black ebony, inlayed with an intricate mother of pearl image of a large bird, appearing somewhat like a peacock, only with a curved beak and talons.
"The crest of our clan," she murmured quietly.
"Did you say something?" Aka asked absentmindedly.
Yuki's tone and expression suddenly became more casual. "What a pretty box!" she exclaimed as she lifted the lid. Her eyes widened as a tinkling melody began to play, she immediately recognized the first few bars of her ancient lullaby, the tune Saya referred to as Diva's Song. Her eyes fell upon the contents of the music box, a pair of necklaces each with a thick, rope-like gold chain, and a shimmering, princess-cut red gem in its pendant.
"They're our mommy necklaces," Ruka explained, as she pulled one of them out and clasped it around her sister's neck.
"We only wear them at super-special occasions," Aka added as she did the same.
Yuki stared blankly at the gem around Ruka's neck.
"Hey, obaachan..."
Yuki was silent and continued to stare.
"Hey obaachan," Ruka repeated.
She finally looked up. "Oh, you mean me?"
"We've been wondering, and we're not asking you to actually do this or anything, but would it be possible for you to -" Ruka paused and fingered the pendant around her neck, "to bring our mother back by putting your blood on these stones?"
"We're just asking out of curiosity, of course," Aka added. "We know that to actually do it would be a really bad idea, our uncles told us about her – her problems. We would never dream of really doing it, but for the sake of argument, would it be possible?"
Yuki thought for a moment. "I'm afraid not, I'm fairly sure that it only works if you have all of the remains, from what I understand, her remains were destroyed in the bombing of the MET," she sighed. "Where did you get those necklaces anyway?"
"Our uncle Nathan gave them to us on our twentieth birthday," said Aka.
"What ever happened to him anyway?" Ruka asked rhetorically.
The attention of the mother and two maids shifted toward the door as Saya entered, though still in her slip and chemise, her hair was now done up in an elaborate bridal coiffeur, held in place by several decorative combs, each with a few miniature fresh roses wired to it. The veil had yet to be affixed.
"Aka, Ruka, they're ready for you now."
The girls paused to admire the hairdresser's work of art on their way out.
Saya gingerly patted the side of her hair. "It's got so much hairspray on it, I feel like I'm wearing a motorcycle helmet."
No sooner than the twins had exited, Yuki turned to her daughter. "Saya, there's something I need to talk to you about."
Saya giggled. "Are you going to explain 'the naughty thing in the naughty place' again?"
Yuki smirked. "Of course not, a woman in your condition already knows all about that!"
Saya's eyes widened. "How did you -"
"A mother has her ways," Yuki declared smugly.
Oh yeah, I guess it figures she would know, since it was originally instigated by Natha-Fred-whatever.
"Now Saya, I know you and your husband to be will be departing immediately after the wedding, and I guess you'll probably be travelling until the babies are born, so there's a few things I must explain, in case I don't get a chance later… Our gestation period is approximately one-hundred and twenty-five weeks."
"I don't think Diva was pregnant that long."
"I know, from what I've been told, her children were removed from her body, and were born prematurely due to the trauma of sensing their mother's death."
Saya thought back. They did come out of the cocoons only minutes after she died.
"However, if you carry the babies to term, they will be born vaginally, the cocoon-like placenta will dissolve internally."
"Oh."
"And I should also mention that when you lactate, it won't be milk."
Saya gave her mother a blank, confused stare for a moment, before grimacing in disgust.
Yuki laughed. "Damn! You really do think like a human! Come now, it isn't milk that our kind needs in order to grow strong!"
Meanwhile, a Chevalier approached the door and reached for the knob, only to find his wrist in the painfully firm grip of his elder brother, dressed almost identically to himself, save the white rose in his lapel.
"Now you really shouldn't be here," Freddie said sternly.
Solomon let out an exasperated sigh. "Nathan, can't you mind your own business for one minute?"
The ancient Chevalier grinned mischievously. "Surely you can see how out of character that would be, and please don't call me by that name in public, I would like to avoid drama, seeing as it's rude to take attention off the bride."
"Regardless, I need to speak with Saya. I believe it's important, and it cannot wait until later."
Freddie groaned. "Fine, but make it quick, it'll be a scandal if anyone other than Yuki finds out that you went to see her right before the ceremony."
The elder of the two brothers vanished as Solomon knocked at the door.
"Come in."
He opened the door and felt his breath get caught in his throat the moment he saw her. Visibly bashful and nervous, blushing and slightly made up - she looked just like she did the night they met. He felt his heart swell, and his lips tightened into a smile.
"Solomon!" she squeaked, her hands flying over her chest in an act of instinctive modesty.
He was momentarily confused by the gesture, until he realized that technically, she was in her underwear. He chuckled at her bashfulness, needless to say, he had seen her wearing much less, not to mention the fact that her slip and chemise covered more of her body than her ordinary street clothes.
"I apologize, but you did say 'come in.'"
"Sorry, I thought you were Aka and Ruka," she murmured timidly, her eyes briefly fixing on his red boutonnière.
…
There was a single long-stem red rose in a clear vase just outside the bedroom door. A promise of things to come.
Saya stood in the sitting-room of the hotel suite, attempting to settle her nerves in preparation for what was to happen behind that bedroom door.
She had actually devoted a large amount of thought to her apparel, after all, what does one wear to an occasion like this? There were too many factors to consider, in particular, she had to maintain the appearance of apathy, for Haji's sake. Originally, she had settled on simply wearing her regular clothes, but had subsequently decided that their removal would get in the way of the expedience she was hoping for.
Her now waist-length hair was gathered in a loose braid, and she wore a white cotton nightgown, pink ribbon woven in and out of the eyelet lace round its color, gathered and tied in a drooping bow in the center. Over it was a blush-pink silk robe, the same garment that Haji had brought to cover her immediately after she immerged from the Miyagusuku tomb. Beneath that was only skin. She had reasoned that the sooner she was naked, the sooner it would be over with.
She was nervous, but she had a hard time placing why. She was fairly sure it wasn't the act it self. Actual intercourse wouldn't be especially foreign to her, simply the next step in a progression she was already familiar with. She and Haji had become experts in the subtle art of making love without making love, and had spent the past few months of her peaceful life at Kai's house, acting like lovesick teenagers, making out in every shadow, constantly sneaking off together, never letting any prolonged period of privacy pass without fooling around. But even in such moments, there had been obvious limits, all of which would have been broken long ago if there were not so much at stake, but of course, Haji was nothing if not supremely patient and respectful, in all areas of their life together.
After a brief, and indeed rare moment of introspection, she realized that Solomon was most likely the cause of her uneasiness. As oblivious as she often was to such things, she knew he loved her, after all, he had told her several times, and seemed to take every possible opportunity to remind her. Somehow, that made the arrangement even more awkward than if he had been an indifferent stranger.
She hadn't even allowed herself to think about the possible aftermath.
Saya took another deep breath as she opened the bedroom door and waded into the dim, flickering light of the bedroom.
Her eyes traveled around the room, over two enormous bouquets of red roses, and dozens of lit candles.
She blushed at the thought that all this was for her and was slightly startled when she noticed Solomon standing in the shadows.
"Good evening," he said with a subtle, cordial bow. He wore an especially nice black suit, a red rose in his lapel, and suddenly she felt underdressed.
He slowly made his approach, and it was a few seconds before she noticed what had changed. "Your face!"
He chuckled. "Your mother and stepfather paid me a surprise visit earlier, I think you can guess the rest." He reached down for her hand, grasping it gently by the wrist and bringing it up to his face, pressing her palm to it's left side. "You see, good as new," he said softly.
"Oh," she paused and smiled. "I'm – I'm glad you're better now."
He chuckled again. "Not as glad as I am, to be sure. I was getting quite sick of that hat and umbrella."
The conversation came to an uncomfortable halt.
"Did you set all of this up?" she asked, suddenly desperate to revive the conversation and delay the inevitable, but unable to help feeling stupid as soon as the words left her lips. Idiot! Of course he set it all up!
"Yes, you deserve no less," he said with a smile, "however, that -" he gestured to an object propped up by the bedside table, "is not my doing."
It was her sword, conspicuously placed beside the right edge of the bed.
Haji must have put it there, she thought. He must still not trust Solomon not to hurt me.
This wasn't quite the truth. It had been some time since Haji had realized that Solomon would never intentionally harm her. The sword had been placed as a precaution, in case Solomon tried to abduct her again, a very real contingency in Haji's mind.
The conversation had stagnated yet again.
Solomon walked across the room to the table and uncorked the bottle of wine.
"Kai mentioned that you liked this particular vintage," he said as he poured a sophisticatedly small amount into the glasses, offering one to Saya.
Her fingers closed around the cold stem of the glass. Just this once, please let the wine actually effect me! That is exactly what I need right now!
He raised his glass. "To our daughters."
Her face flushed at the bold statement, timidly raising her own.
He put his glass to his lips and smiled at her for a moment, before chuckling softly. "I've never seen someone blush after only one sip."
She averted her eyes bashfully as he continued to grin at her.
"I'm sorry, I seem to have embarrassed you," his smile widened even further, "It's just that - you are adorable, in every sense of the word."
The blush faded as she took in the remainder of the glass.
His amused smile faded to an expression of sympathy and concern. "What can I do to make you feel more comfortable?"
She suddenly realized that the conversation only seemed to be intensifying the already emotionally charged situation.
"Can we just stop talking?" she blurted.
Oh god, that didn't come out right! she thought as she caught sight of the triumphant smirk on his face.
Her thoughts raced as he made his way toward her.
Don't back away, that would just be stupid. I have to get this over with, so I can forget all about it. Just pretend he's Haji. That'll make it easier.
He stood toe to toe with her for a moment, staring down at her with worshipful pasture-green eyes.
"Saya-"
The sound of it alone took her breath away. Somehow, as he said her name with those sweet, lyrical, longing tones, she knew he wasn't just speaking a word, he was professing his love for her. She didn't realize that the same had always been true with Haji, but he had never been particularly good at expressing himself with spoken words, let alone expressing their hidden meanings.
As Solomon took her in his arms, Saya's thoughts raced back to the only other time he had held her this way. It had been at his New York apartment, just after his attempt to kiss her had been foiled by a hostile, yet classically feminine rejection. That night, she had felt a wave of panic as he grabbed her wrist, thinking there were only two things he might do, depending on what his true motivation was in bringing her there and in her mind, there were only two possibilities. First, that all this was an act of psychological warfare, that he meant to torture her emotionally until he dealt her an untimely execution, or alternatively, that he was genuinely trying to seduce her, that this womanizer had such a profound lack of self-restraint that he would even try to make it with his arch-nemesis. If the former was the case, then surely being slapped by her would bring out his murderous intentions, and if it was the later, then this would certainly be a logical time for him to force himself on her. She couldn't have been more shocked a moment later, when she found that she was neither being strangled nor sexually assaulted. In fact, she found her self in a staunch but gentle embrace, that he was holding her with the tenderness and affection of husband after a long absence, as if his intentions toward her were so true and honorable that he could actually be satisfied with such platonic contact.
And now she found herself in the same arms as she had that night in New York, and found herself thinking the same thing she had back then.
Perhaps he truly loves me.
The embrace she now found herself in only differed in that this time, her arms had found their way around him as well.
…
"I know I probably shouldn't be here, but there's something I needed to give you now, as it wont do you much good after the ceremony."
With a flick of his wrist, he produced a blue rose, a peculiarly small bloom for a non-miniature cultivar.
"I heard a rumor that you were lacking in something blue."
He continued as she stared down at the bloom. "This was the only thing I could think of that might suit the occasion, so I drove down to Bordeaux, last night."
"But that must have taken hours -"
"I don't sleep Saya, least of all last night."
He held the flower out a little further and she still hesitated.
Does he really want me to wear a blue rose? Does he really expect me to take the past so lightly?
"Diva is dead, Saya. This is just a rare flower," he paused and lowered his eyes, "But if you don't like it…"
For all the evil a blue rose symbolized in her mind, after all the trouble he had gone through, there was no way she could refuse in good conscience. "Alright." Other than the color, I guess it does fit in with the other flowers in my hair.
He smiled as he placed the tips of his fingers on her chin, tilting it back slightly, and placing the rose over her ear, just as he had the night they met.
…
She felt his fingers on her chin, tilting her head back, eyes closed in anticipation of the first kiss of the evening. Warm lips closed softly against hers.
Just pretend he's Haji. She attempted to conjure his image in her mind so as to turn it into a barrier between her and her lover.
But hard as she tried, Haji just wouldn't form.
This wasn't Haji. She was actually surprised at how different he felt, his warm hand now on her cheek, his slightly fuller lips, the surprising comfort of not having to stand on her tiptoes to reach him, not to mention his completely different approach to kissing. No amount of imagination could turn this man into her fiancé.
Her lips remained completely unresponsive as a strange sense of culpability washed over her.
I didn't come here to enjoy myself. I came here so I could become pregnant.
Solomon slowly slid his hand up her back to her neck, his face sinking down to allow for a deeper contact, attempting to draw her in, but to no avail. She seemed entirely unwilling to kiss him back.
She could hear disappointment in his sigh as their lips parted.
He took her hand and gave her the deep, weakening stare that had always at least partially succeeded at withering her resolve in the past.
"Saya, you remember the night we first met, don't you?"
She nodded slightly, wanting to look away, but unable to.
He smiled suavely. "When we danced, how did you feel?"
"Why are you asking me this?" she quickly countered, her tone expressing irritation, her look expressing a subtle sense of regret.
"Because I would like to hear your answer," he said with absolute sincerity. "Please tell me."
She finally forced herself to look away. "I don't know, I was happy, I enjoyed it, I guess."
He smiled broadly. "I thought so," he paused. "I would imagine that some might think it strange that you seemed more willing to be intimate with me then, when I was a complete stranger, than now, when we have known each other for years."
She gave him a melancholy glare. Solomon always did have an uncanny talent for rubbing the truth in her face.
He smiled again. "But in our case, that's completely understandable." He paused. "Both of us have had complicated lives and complicated alliances, but what passed between us that evening was so beautifully simple. There was no betrayal, no guilt, no vendetta."
He reached out and gently held her chin between his thumb and index finger as he leaned closer until his face was less than an inch from his. "It was just a man and a woman together, enjoying each other's company."
He closed the distance between them, his approach almost agonizingly slow, intentionally allowing the suspense to build, cunningly forcing her to realize that she wanted his lips against hers.
The final millimeter closed into a languid, yet authoritatively firm kiss.
Their lips snapped apart as he leaned away from her slightly.
"Let tonight be like that," he whispered, his lips still so close that they ghosted over hers as he spoke.
His words echoed in her mind as he delivered another devastating kiss, his arms snugly around her, pressing their two bodies together as if they could never be close enough.
Just a man and a woman together, enjoying each other's company.
It could have been what he said, or it could have been her own body's long dormant instinct to reproduce, but more likely it was a combination of the two that finally caused her to give in and abandon all pretense of coy reluctance. All thoughts of Haji were banished to the dark corner of her mind where she kept all the other thoughts she didn't want to deal with, rammed into a willfully repressed lead ball, along with Diva, Riku, George and her deeds in Vietnam.
Solomon released her from his arms briefly, as he shrugged off his blazer, at no point breaking the increasingly compelling kiss. His hand traveled around to the back of her neck to pull the tie from her hair, combing away her braid with his fingers, allowing the tresses to flow freely down her back. Her robe mysteriously slipped off her shoulders, wafting gracefully down to the floor.
Their lips parted again, and glowing red met glowing red.
"Have you ever wondered why a Chevalier's eyes do not match those of his Queen, but rather those of her sister?"
Saya just stared at him, entranced and silent.
He pulled her even closer, his lips just beside her ear as he whispered.
"Because we are made for each other."
…
She abruptly snapped out of her nostalgic daze as Freddie entered.
"So?!" he shouted, rubbing his hands together expectantly. "Who's ready to get married?!"
Solomon sighed. "I should get going."
"Damn straight!" Freddie declared.
The younger Chevalier approached the door, and turned back towards his Queen once more before exiting, giving her the same contented-cat smile he had, both the night they first met, just before being dragged away by Van, and the night he saved her from James, just before walking away, knowing full well that he was dying.
Aka and Ruka reentered, their makeup finished, hair done in simple, elegant updos.
"C'mon, let's see the dress!" they demanded.
"Scram, Freddie!" Yuki commanded as she shoved her husband out the door.
Ruka turned to her sister. "Is it just me, or was he wearing cowboy boots?" she asked condescendingly, clearly not reading into it any farther than a confirmation of poor fashion-sense. "Seriously obaachan, you're his wife now, you're supposed to make sure he dresses properly!"
"Are you kidding? If anything, he dresses me!" Yuki giggled as she removed the garment bag from the wedding dress.
After several minutes and a good deal of assistance, the bride was fully dressed.
It was truly a masterpiece.
The gown was much more conservative than an average modern wedding dress, there wasn't even a bit of completely unobstructed skin below her chin. The tight, stiff bodice went just up over the bosom, leaving the arms and shoulders to be covered by a delicate point d'esprite lace that extended all the way up her neck, where it was topped with a large pink bow at the front, somehow reminiscent of her Koza school uniform. The sleeves were made in the "leg-o-mutton" style she had always been partial to, and then cuffed twice with pale pink ribbon, once at the wrists, and once where the puff at the shoulders narrowed. The skirt was made of flounced organza with a small bustle, accentuated by a elaborate draping pannier overskirt, and decorated with a row of pink bows down the back, and a few bars of pink ribbon just above the ruffles at the hem. Under the skirt was a pair of white leather and lace ankle-boots, so elegant that it was a shame they were hidden. Her hands were covered by a pretty pair of white crocheted gloves, complete with a small slit for the ring.
Ruka and Akahana's gowns were similar yet simplified, with a pink silk polonaise over a matching skirt. Fitting with the grand tradition of bridesmaids, Aka and Ruka hated them.
Preparations now complete, the bride and her ladies emerged from the guestroom, finding Freddie waiting just outside the door.
"Oh my god!" he squealed at the bride. "You look like a James Tissot painting, my dear! Absolutely lovely! Almost as beautiful as your mother!" he exclaimed, grinning at her for a moment before he took Yuki's arm and proceeded to escort her to the waiting car.
The bride and her maids picked up their respective bouquets from a table by the door, but as Saya clutched at her prim nosegay, something between her fingers struck her as out of place.
What is that? A loose bit of florist's tape?
Like any woman on her wedding day, she was an obsessive perfectionist, so she tilted the bouquet in order to tuck in the dangle, only to find that it was in fact one of Haji's blue hair ribbons, tied in a careful, two-looped bow around the cluster of stems.
He remembered about 'something blue' too.
Her vision blurred due to a unexpected excess of moisture, and all thoughts of nuptial trivialities vanished from her mind. Suddenly, all she could think about was her life-long friend and devoted companion of the past century and a half.
Haji.
Again, you are correct. I still haven't told you, though I am curious as to which way you feel it's leaning, and your thoughts as to this timeline, I'm kinda out on a limb here…
Incidentally, her gown is actually loosely based on a James Tissot painting, "The Gallery of HMS Calcutta."
More flashbacks and the moment of truth, still to come...
Thank you, reviewers!