ii.
The carriage driver lets him know with a brief knock that they've arrived at his manor, before pausing to ask if he's awake.
"I am now." Toushirou grumbles, stretching his legs. He blinks blearily through the darkness, remembering slowly that he is not alone. "One moment." He says, brushing back sleep-mussed hair from his forehead and reaches to draw back the curtain, moonlight spilling through and illuminating a servant's face. Hanatarou's, if he's not mistaken.
He turns back.
The princess sleeps, small and curled like a wild cat. She looks very young. He hesitates, faltering on the idea to wake her, and then decides it is better that, than to have her be confused the next morning.
"Karin." Toushirou says, and she doesn't stir. He tries again, louder. "Princess."
It seems cruel to call her that—to address her by her former title. But it's her birth right, to be loved and adored, and yet the people who were meant to love and adored her preferred to take it away, to cast an iron crown and twist it to bind her wrists.
Perhaps he pities her, to go so far for one cherished memory.
He's a fool with a sentimental heart. Someone told him this, and he agrees. He doesn't know her at all. Why should she remember him? They had only met once, when they were very young. It was only a vain thought.
And yet, she is still a princess to him.
"Karin." Toushirou says, the syllables of her name sharp like thorns caught in his teeth. He leans over to touch her shoulder, shaking her as gently as he can. "We're here."
She makes an unintelligible sort of noise, and he refrains, falling back into his seat as her eyelashes flutter open. There's a trick to the slant of ivory light that skims her skin, and it reveals the creases to her clothes, the unconscious flexing of her muscles, rapid blinking as she regains consciousness.
A wild cat prowling in a starless night, Toushirou muses.
"Where?" Karin asks, breathing slowly, and he waits for a moment of recognition. Distrust settles on her shoulder as she become more awake.
"Home." He answers simply, knocking once, and the carriage door opens.
She frowns, but steps out of the carriage, accepting his extended hand. Toushirou's too tired to tell her that there's always a spare guestroom available. Hanatarou will tell her, regardless, already beginning to lead her to one of many.
"Princess." Toushirou says, and she stops. "I meant it when I said you're safe."
It's too dark to see if she reacts, other than walking into his manor.
Toushirou stays where he is for a while, overcome by nostalgia, of all the summers he spent here as a child. It's been too long.