She could hear the whispers as she passed, but Kagome refused to acknowledge them. She wasn't up on the latest fashion, but she hadn't had enough fabric from her skirt to create an elaborate bodice, anyway. The sleek ensemble would get her noticed, the ruffle on the back more so, but she'd kept the sleeves almost nonexistent to show off her elaborate up-do, currently adorned with the prince's gift.

A pair of earrings had accompanied another letter earlier that morning, this one entirely scribed by the prince, and making sure her plans to attend the ball hadn't changed. She'd placed it in a chest for safekeeping, along with the leftover materials from his sword. She usually wasn't so sentimental, but if this was the end of her fairy tale, she wanted proof it had happened in the first place.

Lifting her chin, she made her way to the inner sanctum and presented her invitation—the corner with the prince's note ripped off. The guard eyed the sword in her hands, and Kagome kicked herself for not asking permission to bring the weapon in the first place. There was no way they'd allow her to—

"The prince notified us of your arrival, Lady Kagome," an elderly attendant said, offering her a warm smile. She sensed his age and youki before noticing the emblem on his vest, branches weaving out of the shield like thorns, and she bowed slightly. "Though I would advise you to bring your gift to him directly. Some guests are prone to rumours—especially with someone so lovely."

She flushed but kept her steps steady as the attendant motioned toward the other end of the room. The king and queen stood in front of their thrones, clad in fur and hues of purple, the queen holding a fan to match. It was an unspoken tradition that each ball held a coloured theme, and every woman who had passed by her stall had mentioned that tonight was about celebrating the peaceful reign of their sovereigns.

The commonfolk in the courtyard could wear whatever they wished, though most adhered to the scheme in the hopes of getting inside, and the ballroom was aglow with violet and indigo. The prince sported an embroidered periwinkle tunic under his fur collar, gold thread lining the edges and the top of his ivory collar.

Kagome knew she was risking expulsion by not only showing up in a different colour but one so glaringly obvious and in such an unusual style. Everyone else had capped sleeves, and all the women wore gloves, but not her. Her fingers may be rough from her line of work, but it wasn't something she was about to hide. She was proud of her heritage.

The whispers increased as she approached the thrones, but Kagome couldn't have looked away if she tried. She'd felt his youki flare in response as soon as she'd set foot in the room, luring her closer like a moth to a flame. His expression was bored, but his eyes blazed, sliding over the curves her dress helped to accentuate, and she suppressed a shiver.

She had enough mind to bow as she presented the weapon, holding it up for him to inspect. "As requested, Your Highness." His gaze never left her face, his fingers barely wrapping around the hilt before passing it off to the same attendant who'd greeted her at the door.

"I shall get to work on the sheath right away, sire," the tree youkai said, disappearing through an archway to the right of the thrones.

"Aren't you going to inspect it?" she asked.

"I am sure it is of the utmost quality," the prince assured her, offering her his hand. "But I had more pressing matters to attend to." A hush fell over those closest to them as he led her into the middle of the room, the soft whisp of a waltz appearing out of nowhere before his other hand pressed against her back, and he pulled her close.

She should've regretted her fashion choice, especially with how his fingers burned her skin, but Kagome couldn't find it in herself to care. She leaned into his touch as he spun her around, others soon following, and youki teased her senses, keeping her attention solely on him.

"You look ravishing," he said, fingers tightening around hers.

"Not as much as you," she replied, flushing at her boldness. Was she allowed to compliment him so openly? With all of her mother's lessons, she'd never been taught how to behave in the presence of royalty.

"I assure you, I will not be the one they speak of tomorrow." Every time he twirled her, she ended up a little closer, but it wasn't until the edge of his cloak brushed her arm that she realized it was the same shade as her dress.

"You sent rubies on purpose," she accused half-heartedly. "You wanted me to match."

His gaze flickered to the jewels dangling from her hair. "Perhaps. Or maybe they are meant to represent the fire and tenacity within your soul."

She sucked in a breath to calm her heartbeat. "Are you always this articulate?"

He smirked. "Only with those that have captured my attention so thoroughly." His face was stern, but his tone was teasing, and Kagome couldn't decide which one to believe.

"Your Highness—"

"Sesshoumaru."

Her eyes widened in shock. "I can't call you that!" she hissed.

"Why not? You have offered me your name; now I am doing the same in return."

Blue eyes darted around the room, partially breaking the spell they'd been under as she shook her head. "I can't—it's not the same!"

"Somewhere more private, then?" His hand rested on the small of her back as he spun her away from the dance floor, the crowd parting automatically as people bowed. Kagome was helpless to follow, not wanting the night to end so quickly, and he pulled her through a pair of ornate doors and into a secluded garden, stone steps covered with ivy and moonlight.

Kagome breathed in the soft fragrance, the night air doing much to cool the heat in her cheeks but doing nothing to calm the fire within her heart. "The sword will only recognize you," she said, grappling for conversation. "Hair holds memory, so the more you use it, the more it'll—"

"I did not invite you to hear about your work," he replied, guiding her over a bridge.

"What do you want to talk about, then?" she asked, making the mistake of meeting his gaze.

Amber swirled with an unfamiliar emotion, his arm firmly clasped around her waist. "What indeed?" His thumb stroked her spine, sending shivers cascading over her skin, and she was once again left wishing there was no difference between their stations. Stealing a kiss from another working man wouldn't cause an uproar, but a crown prince—

Plum blossoms fell from branches like snow, twirling through the air like they'd been doing moments before, and Kagome was momentarily hypnotized, reaching up to catch some. "It's beautiful here," she said. Most of the gardens in the village were specifically for growing vegetation; produce needed a purpose, but the royals were known for their flowing fields of flowers.

"You are welcome to return whenever you like," Sesshoumaru replied, and she struggled to breathe with how close he was.

"Am I?"

"I would not have brought you here in the first place if you were not."

He kept talking in innuendos and ambiguities, and Kagome wanted to grab him by the fur of his collar and demand an honest answer. "I can't just show up at the palace gates and demand to see the gardens whenever I want."

Lethal claws traced the strap of her dress, sliding over her shoulder before tilting her chin. "You could if you resided on the inside. The view from my room is quite lovely." The insinuation was obvious, though only due to the heated expression on his face, and Kagome flicked her tongue out, her mouth suddenly dry.

"So making you a sword was your version of foreplay?"

"If you wish to see it that way."

"How else am I supposed to see it?" she asked, suddenly annoyed. It was one thing to accept his invitation and dance with him while knowing she'd leave with a broken heart, but she wasn't about to turn into a sexual conquest to be thrown out when he was finished. She'd thought he had more honour than that.

His lips pressed against her forehead, Kagome's eyes widening as her heart all but burst from her chest. "You can't possibly—"

"You seem so sure about what I am thinking and feeling, Kagome," he smirked. "I find actions speak louder than words." She shook her head in disbelief. Each youkai species had its own non-verbal language, and a kiss from an inuyoukai on their ancestral mark, or where it fell on their person, signified deep affection.

Hope mixed with apprehension as she looked up at him, gripping the fabric of his cloak as his expression softened. "I wish to keep you."