1: The Banished Princess (Lelucia's Point of view)
Perhaps it was just my imagination, but on the day when my mother died, I woke up with a strange queasiness in my stomach and an unsettling sense that something just wasn't right. It was early spring and I had just turned ten the previous December. I went about my day as usual: breakfast with Nannaru and Mother, etiquette lessons with Lady Alstreim, general education lessons with my tutor Earl Georg Samwell, and then some free time, which I had hoped to use playing with Nannaru. I loved my one and only precious baby brother more than anything. That day, however, my half-brother Clovis la Britannia visited Areis Villa, and I was expected to go spend time with him.
This task vexed me, because Clovis was easily my least favorite out of all my numerous half-siblings. He was spoiled, bossy, rude, prideful, overly concerned with his looks, and not even half as smart as me. Despite being six or seven years my senior, he still acted like a petty child. During this visit, Clovis bullied me into playing sword-fighting with willow sticks out in the gardens. I was soundly beaten, with several scratches and a light bruise. For revenge, I made him play one round each of chess, poker, and battleship, winning every match easily. Clovis grew red with embarrassment and frustration, and soon after, he told me I was free to return to my mother and brother.
It was that time of the afternoon when everyone seemed sleepy and everything in the villa seemed quiet, with everyone busy at their work. I searched the third and second floors of the miniature palace, hoping to catch Nannaru and Mother. A maidservant informed me they had had just left the nursery room a few minutes ago, and were on their way downstairs for a walk in the garden. I hurried to try to catch up with them. I walked down the second floor hallway, leading to the balcony-like landing which was connected to entrance chamber below by a set of stairs with red carpet.
That's when it happened. Mother and Nannaru were walking down the steps. The sound of gunfire mingled with the sound of the shattering stained-glass windows on the first floor. Then my mother's scream and Nannaru's cries joined the cacophony of horrific sound. Lady Marriane vi Britannia was shot down before my very eyes. She tried to shield little Nannaru with her body, but I learned later that both of my brother's legs were shot.
The gunfire stopped and my mother lay unmoving on the stairs with blood gathering under her and dripping down the steps, making the crimson carpet even darker red. Nunnaru, half crushed beneath her, had gone silent in shock, staring at nothing with eyes and mouth wide open. Below, on the first floor, seven-year-old Anya, the daughter of Lady Alstreim, passed out. The sudden, bizarre attack was just too much. As for me, I stood at the top of the steps with my ears ringing, my heart thundering, and my thin body visibly trembling. A scream ripped out from deep in my lungs, quite involuntarily. I didn't even know I was capable of screaming so loudly. Then the scent of blood clouded the air, and I started to feel like throwing up.
After that, Lady Alstreim and the servants came running, but I don't remember much else. The rest of the day was a blur. I know I ran to the medical building, and barged into Nannaru's room where the nurses and Doctor Evans were preparing to operate. I remember my father arriving and telling me to leave Nannaru's side. He must have also told me that my mother was dead, but I don't remember that part. I felt far removed from reality and from the people bustling around me. At the end of the day, Doctor Evans came and told me that Nannaru would never walk again, and that she couldn't see either.
That night, I was coddled and comforted by servants and nursemaids, but I yelled at them all to leave me alone. I lay down in my bed like usual, but didn't sleep for a single moment. I was awake all night, crying. Even as a small child, I had a ridiculous sense of pride and the desire to be perceived as strong rather than feminine. This time, however, I cried my heart out, not caring if the entire palace heard me. Even the greatest of poets and the masters of human psychology have trouble finding words sufficient to describing the misery and emptiness of sudden bereavement—especially the loss of one's mother.
When the sun started to rise, I climbed out of bed and found that I couldn't cry anymore even if I tried. The sadness was still there, but it was pushed to a secondary position in favor of a different emotion: a raw, powerful, and childish emotion: rage. I was infuriated. Even if she had started as just another consort, Mother had been the current Empress at that time. Father loved her that much. Or so he claimed. How, then, could he let this happen? Hatred for my father boiled in the dark pit of my heart.
My relationship with the Emperor could not be called a loving one. Though he often came from the Britannia Central Palace to the Villa at Aries to see me, my mother, and Nannaru, the great man always stayed emotionally distant. I have only a few vague memories of ever seeing him smile. He criticized Nannaru and I harshly, and expected us to understand things that were way over our head. He also tried to beat respect into us, both figuratively and literally. That only made me respect him less. Worst of all, after that initial check on Nannaru in the medical building, he did not come to visit his youngest son. Not for two days, while she was still in the intensive care unit. That anyone of my own flesh and blood could care so little about Nannaru was unthinkable to me. He didn't seem to be grieving my mother, either.
Everyone around me told me that it would be several days before I would granted an audience with the Emperor, Charles zi Britannia. Order, etiquette, and respect for the Emperor could all go to hell, I thought. Thus, two days after my mother's death, I walked into the throne room unannounced, interrupting a meeting between my father and an entire crowd of courtiers. When I barged in on the royal proceedings that day, I looked at my father with hot animosity and not the least bit of deference. I started by saying that Lady Marianne had passed away, and my father immediately asked, with contempt in his voice, if that was "all" I had come to say. As if he didn't care. As if it meant nothing.
"Bring me the next courtier," Charles said to an aide. "I have no time to play with children."
"Father!" I screamed, running up toward the dais with a murderous light in my eyes. Two guards barred the way with terrible spears, or else I would have gone up even closer. "Why did you not protect Mother?" I demanded. "You're the Emperor, are you not? You're the greatest man in the country, are you not? You should have been able to protect her! And you could have at least visited Nannaru!"
"I have no use for the weak," Charles stated simply.
The anger on my face gave way to a look of astonishment, of disbelief. "The weak?" I repeated.
"Yes. That is the true nature of the Royal Family." My father stared down at me unblinkingly.
The rage came back all at once, a feeling so powerful it made me shake visibly. I was not usually a violent person, but for the first time, I wanted to hit my father. I told him in a ragged voice, "If that's how things really are, then I don't even want the right to succeed the throne. I've had enough of it! I won't succeed you or get into any more family conflicts!"
Charles vi Britannia then said, "You are dead." After a pause, he went on. "You have been dead since the day you were born. Who gave you the clothes you wear on your back? Your home, your food, and even your life? I am the one who gave all those things to you. In other words, you have never once been truly alive. And yet," his deep, strong voice rose to a shout, "and yet you show such insolence!"
When he stood up suddenly, I was so frightened I stumbled backward off the dais and landed on my rump. I didn't even have time to be embarrassed about the squeaky gasp that had escaped me, because he continued,
"Lelucia! A dead person like you has no rights. I sentence you go to Japan with Nannaru. As a Princess and a young Prince, you are good trading materials."
Our talk then came to an abrupt end as my father signaled one of the guards. The armored spearman lifted me bodily off the ground by the collar of my red cape. I kicked and screamed like a wild animal until the guard literally threw me onto the stone paving outside the throne chambers. I could hear the court, behind me, laughing.
Part of me realized I might be able to undo this terrible situation if I begged and apologized enough, but I have never been that kind of person. So what if father's word was final? So what if my brother and I had been banished? We would be given to the Japanese Government, because Britannia was currently negotiating with that country, trying to get its Sakuradite resources. Mother would not be there to protect us. We wouldn't even be able to speak the language at first. But so what? I was confident I could still protect Nannaru. And if even Lady Marianne could be murdered in her own home, then it was no safer here than in Japan. Even being banished and used as a political tool sounded better to me than staying in the same city with a creature as brutal and pitiless as my father. I hoped I would never return. I decided then and there that I hated the Britannian Royal family, and I was ashamed to be part of it.
****Line Break****
Several months had passed and spring rolled into summer. By mid-July 2010, Nannaru and I had more or less settled down at the Ashford family's large house in Japan. Mr. and Mrs. Ashford lost most of their good standing with the Britannian court and were losing their fortune too, but nevertheless, they had loved Lady Marianne, and wanted to help her children. They gave us a temporary place to stay and provided food and clothing. Naturally, I felt sincerely grateful, but my gratitude was mixed up with the shame I felt for relying on others yet again, and so my honest feelings didn't show. I prefer to hide how I actually feel most of the time. The habit started after my banishment and is still with me to this day.
The Ashfords worked together with the Souri-Daijin of Japan for a plan that would keep Nannaru and I from being targeted by people who might want to kill us or kidnap us for ransom. The adults explained that my brother and I would be taking on the false last name of Lamperouge to cover up the truth of our royal heritage. It was the Ashford family's plan, and the Prime Minister agreed to it so long as Nannaru and I stayed close by and agreed to try to plead with our father in the event of an invasion. Of course, no amount of pleading from his sons and daughters could ever change the mind of Charles zi Britannia, but we decided to wait and let the Souri-Daijin see that for himself in due time. We didn't know that the Britannian invasion of Japan would be starting in only month. We had no idea how savagely they would attack and subjugate the Japanese; we mistakenly thought Japan and Britannia could be allies.
Even though I was only ten, I thought about politics and war much more than most children my age. A good deal of my thought was also consumed with Nunnaru, who couldn't walk or see, and had to rely on others for everything. Sometimes, it was unbearable to look at him, because I felt that what happened was somehow my fault. Or maybe I thought that I should have begged my father for mercy after all, just for Nannaru's sake. That way, he wouldn't be at such a loss, so alone, and so far away from home. I don't know exactly what I was thinking, but I was angry and depressed. One day, I couldn't stand it anymore and set off for a long hike in the woods behind the Ashford Estate. I have never been an outdoors person, so this was quite out of character for me. Of course, I ended up hopelessly lost.
After walking around most of the day and growing increasingly confused as to how to get back, I came across another child my age. He was about average height and weight for his age, but his arms, though thin, were finely toned, and his excellent balance and command of motion was apparent from his footing alone. His hair milk-chocolate-colored hair looked shorter and spikier than mine. His eyes were forest-green, and from his expression, one could tell that he was indomitably stubborn. I thought he looked concurrently adorable and intimidating.
"Excuse me," I said, breathlessly running up the trail to meet the boy. "Do you know which trail goes back to the Ashford Estate?"
At once, the boy glared at me. He thrust out his chest and put his hands on his hips. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded. He was speaking Japanese, but I had learned a lot of the language very quickly, as children often do. "This is Kururugi property! Do you think you can just go wherever you want? You're trespassing. There should'a been signs along the trails. Can't you read?"
I felt annoyed at his obvious bellicosity, but I tried to sound as pleasant as possible. "Actually, I'm from Britannia. So I did see some signs, but I couldn't read the kanji. I got lost and I was hoping..."
"So you're a Britannian, huh?" the boy interrupted, taking a bold step closer to me. He spat on the ground. "Disgusting. You must think you're better than everyone else. You must think Japanese people are like apes. That's what Britannians are like."
Backing away nervously, I managed to say shakily, "I—I don't think insulting me was c-called for. I didn't mean to trespass. And I don't think that way about the Japanese."
"That's what you say." The obnoxious boy was squinting suspiciously at me like I had demon horns on my head. "But you look to me like you think you're some kind of princess. Well. Maybe everybody just did what you told them, and answered all your questions, back in Britannia. But that's not how it's gonna be here. I bet you've never been in a real fight, not even with other girls. Hmph. I'm warning you, I'm learning three martial arts plus kendo."
The conversation wasn't going in the direction I had hoped for. "I want to settle this in a civilized way," I told the boy with an uneasy smile. "Let's start over. What's your name?"
"My name? Hmph! Rude." The green-eyed kid moved closer to me, drawing himself up to his full height, and cracking his knuckles menacingly. "In this country, if you're going to ask someone's name, you give them your name first! Don't you Britannians know anything?! It's like you're asking for a fight. If you were a boy, I'd just hit you."
"You seem pretty angry regardless of what I say," I observed. Of course, boys his age had plenty to be angsty about, especially if they were naturally prone to aggression. "So if it will make you feel better," I offered, "you can hit me. I may be a girl, who grow up in a Britannian palace, but I've been hit before. I've never felt very girly. In fact, maybe it would be better if you just thought of me as a guy."
The simple-minded boy took my words quite literally. He proceeded to punch me in the gut, temporarily taking my breath away, and making me fall down onto the dusty trail. It was the first time I had been winded and knocked completely off my feet.
"I knew it." The boy clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Just one simple, straight punch and you go right down. You don't even know how to break your fall. I was right; you've never been in a real fight." He gave me his hand and pulled me up. His face was reddening; perhaps he had acted impulsively, and now regretted it. But he said, "You asked for that, so don't you dare start crying."
"I don't cry," I replied, trying to save what was left of my dignity. "Not in front of other people, anyway. So? Do you feel better, now that you've hit me? To show you I'm not like other Britannians, I'll tell you a secret. Even though I'm a Britannian Princess, Lelucia vi Britannia, I actually hate that rotten country. I hate my family too—all except for my little brother, Nannaru."
Those words made the boy's attitude change abruptly. First he looked shocked, and then he blushed deeper red than before. He scratched at his hair, stammering, "Wait, wait. I'm... I didn't realize... ugn. Listen." He straightened up and unclenched his fists. "I'm sorry for hitting you and being aggressive. I'm Kururugi Suzaku, the son of the Souri-Daijin of Japan. My father told me some Britannian royalty would be coming because they were banished. He said they aren't like other Britannians, but I didn't believe him. Also, I know Mr. and Mrs. Ashford. The Daijin is on good terms with that family. They're working together so you and your brother will be safe here in Japan. So, um... now I see that you're real... and you really are a banished princess... and... Again, I'm sorry." He ended his rant with a growl of, "But you did kind of ask to be hit!"
"Hahaha!" My laugh was genuine, despite the pain lingering in my stomach area. "I know I did. To be honest, sometimes I hate myself because I'm related to the Emperor Charles." It was much easier to be truthful back then, when I was only ten. Besides, I didn't think I would ever see this boy again, so telling him my true thoughts could do no harm. "Sometimes I want to hit myself because of it. But I can't even throw a real punch. I guess what I'm saying is I was looking for someone to hit me."
"That's messed up." When Kururugi Suzaku made statements like that, he was always completely convinced he was right, beyond a shadow of a doubt. "Now listen. You're a girl, and a skinny little stick of a girl, too. But that doesn't mean you can't defend yourself. Many martial arts were created for people who are at a strength disadvantage. Why don't you come visit the Dojo? It's only half a mile from here. I can teach you how break-fall at the very least. And if you keep coming back, I'll teach you some self-defense that even someone like you can do."
"I'm... I'm really grateful." It's true. I was appreciative, but more than that, I was embarrassed about what I had to say next. I was exhausted and dizzy, and my stomach hurt. "But I'm afraid..." I tried desperately to find words. "Well... you see… I've already walked for what felt like miles, and I'm lost. The Ashfords are probably worried about me, and I'm worried about leaving Nannaru alone all day. I'd love to visit the Dojo—maybe tomorrow—but for now, I have to get back to the Ashford Estate."
"Hmm. It's a longer walk back to the Ashford's than it is to the Dojo. And you look ready to faint. Ok, Princess." Suzaku opened the canteen that hung by a strap over his shoulder, and offered me a sip. The water was lukewarm, but still extremely refreshing after hours and hours of no hydration. When I finished drinking, Suzaku took one of my arms and placed it over his shoulders, supporting my body with his. It took half the weight off of me, and I felt strangely giddy. "I'll help you get back," the boy stated. "There's no way I could let you go back alone the way you are now. Don't be embarrassed, Princess."
"Could you please stop calling me Princess?" I requested, happy but blushing red as a tomato. "It's humiliating. And, it's also supposed to be a secret. I have to take on a new name and pretend I was never royalty. Just call me Lelucia. And I'm sorry, but I can't let you do this much just for me. All you need to do is tell me which way to go. I'll be fine."
"Don't be an ass," said Kururugi Suzaku, beginning to walk forward as he supported me. "This isn't an especially big favor. It's just common courtesy. We're very polite and helpful in this country, you know. We don't trample all over each other like the Britannians. Of course I'll help you, Princess. If it makes you feel better, think of it this way. I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it because of my pride as a Japanese person."
Like I thought, he was stubborn. "I suppose I can't argue. …Um, thank you, Kururugi-san."
"You can call me Suzaku. It means Phoenix. Pretty cool, isn't it, Princess?" He added the last word with a grin and a wink, clearly teasing me.
It was dark when the two of us finally reached the Ashford Estate. I invited Suzaku in for dinner, and Mrs. Ashford said he should stay the night. The boy called his father and got permission to sleep over. The two of us, plus Nannaru, shared the same room, each of rolled up in traditional Japanese futons. Nobody thought it was weird for us all to sleep in the same room next to each other because, after all, we were only ten (or six, in Nunnaru's case).
I was so tired from the day's excursion that I felt like falling asleep as soon as I hit the futon. As I drifted off to sleep, I suddenly realized this was the first time I had slept in the same room with anyone besides Nannaru. I thought it would annoy me, but strangely enough, I actually enjoyed it. I felt safer this way, somehow. And I knew I would be seeing a lot more of Suzaku in the days to come. I went to great lengths to hide the absolute joy I felt during those first few days together; for the first time in my life, I had made a friend, and it was someone I liked being around.