-VII-

Facade

What flourishes must fade, or so it goes in Asterye

The marble floor echoed a dusty cold air against Sabo's shoes as he paced back and forth in the Prince's study room. A little less than a week in this Kingdom, and none of his supposed plans or even hidden arrangements were going right. Karasu and the other officers had not arrived at the port with the suspected body of the Prince for two nights now, and the Princess had stopped escorting them altogether.

In her stead, a short man with the appearance of both wisdom and age introduced himself as the King's closest aid. Not only did he escort them to the King for a brief meeting, but Marquess Hartnet had also orchestrated numerous encounters with the King's council throughout the past few days. Grateful for such opportunities as he now had a clearer picture of the Kingdom, the absence of the Princess seemed quite peculiar. He questioned whether she was intentionally being kept away from them or if she chose to avoid him after his request.

And what did she mean by a curse? Was she a devil fruit user? A nation filled with all sorts of natural resources would also signify a high percentage of devil fruit users.

"Is something the matter?" Inazuma asked, peering up from his seat.

"Nothing, no..." Sabo scrunched his face and turned to the table filled with the latest newspapers and invitation cards for the missing Prince. "Have we heard anything yet from Baltigo?"

"Given the present circumstances, no. All our communications are currently on hold."

Sabo's eyes travelled the candle-lit room, alert. The three of them were engaged in countless meetings with various hefty nobles throughout the day, learning existing issues plaguing high society, the ports and the veiled concerns of the Prince's coronation, which was now in talks of being cancelled altogether. Of course, Marquess Hartnet had hinted at such revelation and reminded them of the top-class secret to be kept within themselves.

While the King rested in his chambers due to illness, his obnoxious aid, Marquess Hartnet, ensured that all the issues they were presented with had no real value for their hidden mission of securing another nation in their liberal cause.

It was without a question that the King was buying time. Why else would the revolutionaries be engaged in such tedious meetings filled with only gossip and futile whispers of social gatherings?

Then again, most remained oblivious of their existence as the nobles had believed they were foreign visitors from a distant Kingdom from the North Blue invited to the upcoming coronation or ambassadors aiding with guiding the ports.

Feeling the bitter restlessness creeping up within him, Sabo dragged himself back to take a seat and fiddled with the countless reports of every noble and key figure of the nation. He remembered Betty's and Dragon's warning to return if things were to turn south, but his mind was still far too preoccupied with Karasu's most recent communication. The Prince was clearly out of the picture, and with the absence of the Princess, Sabo couldn't shake off that lingering sense of unease and that there was more to this nation than what was reported in Baltigo.

Besides, Karasu, out of all the officers, would easily show signs if something emerged through his crows. Sabo then turned his gaze to the windows where Jiron had stood to keep an eye out and stared at the setting sun that had finally faded into the horizon. Later, he'd try and discreetly venture out to the harbour again, for the time was in their favour.

"We have another week to figure something out."

A knock on the door disrupted his loud train of thought, and almost immediately, Sabo rose from his seat. Could it be...the Princess?

As Jiron walked over to the door, there was a quiet build of anticipation at the guest. But, as he reached out to welcome the guest, the door forcefully slammed into his face. Jiron blinked and stood there momentarily in a daze.

"Good evening," Marquess Harnet announced loudly with a smug smile on his wrinkled face, ignoring Jiron at the door.

Sabo closed his eyes and inwardly sighed, a little wave of disappointment crossing over him at his earlier thought. Maybe, it was better this way. The Princess was never supposed to be part of their mission in the first place.

"As I promised earlier, I have these letters from King August detailing his upcoming plans. With the arrival of the convoys that set out with the Prince, he will inform high society of the cancellation of the coronation before the rumours turn sinister and hopes you will continue to assist in protecting our ports."

While Inazuma nodded sharply in agreement, Sabo started to lose patience with the political meddling of the King's aid and had hoped to speak with the poor man before his inevitable end. "And King August will not meet with us?"

"Oh, I'm afraid he's still ever so poorly," the Marquess drawled, lips tightening. "Especially with the recent revelation. It has brought back some bad memories, but do not fret. King August has agreed to assemble a new central group of ministers based on your recent judgements."

Once Marquess Harntet handed over the letter, he approached Sabo and whispered, "And this invitation letter here is for you—from the Princess."

Sabo perked up and narrowed his eyes at the odd smile on the Marquess' face. He opened his mouth to question his intention, but Marquess Hartnet had already turned his attention to the door.

"Then I'll see you all at tomorrow's luncheon."

Jiron quickly closed the door after he had left and shot Sabo a confused stare, "What does he mean by that?"

Sabo shook his head in disbelief and instead reluctantly opened the invitation letter. He quickly skimmed through the single-lined sentence and deepened his frown at the simple message before him inviting him to The August Revival. Flipping the invitation card over to the other side, he was met with... nothing— a blank page that left him somewhat baffled.

"Another ball? Count me out!" Jiron grunted over Sabo's shoulder and held his hands out in defeat, "I swear these nobles and their need to celebrate every other day."

"Well, there's only one invitation card," Sabo affirmed, reading the other letters with mild interest, "I won't stay too long."

He, too, was not keen on attending such an event after their previous one earlier this week, but Sabo also couldn't deny the perks that came with such an event. Perhaps, with this invitation, he'd uncover if the Princess kept her distance due to his proposal or sought him out to inform of what conspired in the King's chambers.

Walking along the convoluted halls, the sweet scent of baked banquets mixed with flower fragrances wasn't prominent initially to Sabo; instead, the muffled sound of music and laughter dazzled through the castle ground.

At first, Sabo had considered accepting the invitation and asking one of the guards to escort him to the front entrance. However, he quickly discarded the very thought as he soon realised that the invitation was meant for a much smaller party and hated being welcomed in a way that would attract unwanted attention.

"When was the last time we were engaged with preparing such a grand festivity in the annexe?"

He waited and concealed himself behind the castle wall as two maids were idly chatting. If he wanted to slip into the hall unnoticed, Sabo had to ensure his identity remained anonymous since he could see from a little block away the guests were not wearing masks this time.

While the guards and a few maids had oddly appeared to be friendly towards his presence with an air of smile and familiarity every time he strolled past them, Sabo could sense their existence was not welcomed by the pompous nobles.

"Think of it as a prelude to the coronation. I'm sure things would be much busier then compared to now."

Was the King planning to continue the coronation?

"I know, but the Princess has never hosted a soiree."

Or was this a way to appease the other noble families and establish the stability of the Royal family?

"Well, I'm sure it'll go well. Whatever could go wrong with hosting such a small party?"

"You're right. Let's quickly take these back to the lobby."

Sabo took out the invitation card, once again, contemplating whether to go to the front entrance and slip in that way or follow the maids to another entry at the back. He followed the maids from behind and took another turn, keeping an ear for any onlookers until the pungent smell of sweet perfume prickled his senses.

From the corner of his eyes, adorned from head to toe in the most extravagant red dress, the Princess stood by a footman and her maid at the back entrance door. Her head kept peering to either side of the long-vacant corridor as though searching for something.

Sabo shifted away from the wall and waited until he could get a better view. The Princess's usual free-flowing hair that snaked down to her waist like a trail of vines had now been kept in a delicate braid. She appeared... different. A little more intense than her usual bored demeanour, and yet, instead of focusing on her seemingly flawless cover, Sabo caught on to a paper, and a white transponder snail passed along to the maid.

There was a sense of impatience radiating from her glances, and while her expression was an unreadable puzzle, Sabo saw this as a chance. With a flick of his finger, he sent a short flicker of a flaming bird in her direction for a second, hoping it would capture her attention.

Just as the small flamed bird quickly diminished into the late evening breeze air, the Princess caught his gaze and turned away.

"You shouldn't be here?"

Taken aback at her curt tone, Sabo drew his brows together and took out the invitation card, "Is this not from yourself, Princess?"

There's a tightness to her face as she ushered the maid and footmen to return to the ballroom, "No."

"No?" He repeated with a frown.

Once the backdoor was closed, the Princess leaned against the wooden door and lightly cleared her throat. Her fingers clung tightly to the polished brass door handle, "I mean, yes. I did at first. Until—I realised Navy agents in the ballroom, and since it's not a masquerade ball but an event to welcome me back..."

She kept quiet and stared up at him with a glint of caution in her amber eyes. Sabo nodded at what he had presumed the Princess was alluding to. He would stick out as a masked outsider to the nobles and a wanted man in the eyes of the world government. To think that she'd given thought to his position impressed him a little. The idea that someone of her calibre would be attentive to their surroundings wasn't too peculiar.

The soft melodies and laughter reverberated through the walls, diverting the Princess's attention.

"Either way, we can't speak here," she looked around the corridor to see if anyone was close, then touched her thin silver necklace and took a deep breath, "So, take this."

The Princess removed one of her many necklaces embellished on her and clasped her hands as if sending some form of a final prayer, leaving behind a part of herself before handing the thin locket to him.

"With this, you'll be able to track the royal family," she clarified, holding onto the locket, "And just to let you know, the King, accompanied by those agents, will be at the eastern harbour. Tonight. All I know, at least for now," she lowered her head and tugged at his elbow to come closer, "He was summoned to the Holy Land."

And suddenly, a surge of awareness washed over him as everything made sense now. His unease that he couldn't shake off, a part of him fearing the turn of the mission, Karasu's whereabouts, the King's refusal to meet him as if he were stalling and most importantly, the distinct inkling of suspicion that overcame him the past few days.

"Thank you," he whispered, dropping his head in gratitude and squeezing onto the necklace clutched in her hand, "Thank you, Prince-

"Arielle?"

The curious sound of a lady's voice tore the two apart almost immediately as if they had committed a scandalous sin in broad daylight.

"Livia?"

Not knowing if he should leave, Sabo moved his gaze between the interrupter and a terrified Princess and remained a respectable distance away from her.

The lady strutted nearer to the two and waved her pink fan over her face. Her watchful gaze stared at the Princess in disdain, "And here I was, wondering if you had fled back to your chamber, but you're still here?"

"Of course. Thanks to you, there's no reason to repeat past blunders, and besides, your father would be saddened at such a failure occurring in his name."

With a trace of warning laced beneath a frigid smile, the Princess set herself in front of Sabo like a shield, "Though we all know, as the host, it is my duty, the operation behind the scene is just as perfect."

Sabo's eyes darted back and forth at the odd combative exchange between the Princess's veiled anger and twitching smile to the lady's direct smugness.

"And that's why your rendezvous with this gentleman is displayed so scandalously without a thought," she sneered, narrowing her sharp blue eyes at Sabo, "Don't take it personally. I am not accusing you of anything, for the Princess has always lacked the proper etiquette in almost everything."

The crippling tension only seemed to grow larger the longer the two kept staring at each other, silently analysing the other for any weakness.

Sabo gulped as he found himself in a situation where a swarm of guilt replaced the previous tense weight on his shoulders. The Princess managed to provide him with much insight, and in return, he was about to ruin her reputation and a night dedicated to her. A trace of flame sizzled within him, threatening to flare out and yet, with the Princess's back to him, it was difficult for him to discern her facade, let alone make a move.

"Such presumptions would seem as though you're tarnishing the royal name in front of His Royal Highness, Prince Aster's guest," the Princess stated, craning her neck to the side and refraining from ever turning back, "Aster would not be pleased."

"And like I said, I am not blaming—

"But, such misleading accusation could stain his guest's integrity and goodwill as he had only informed me of a message the Prince had sent."

The lady's eye widened at the lies slipping out the Princess's lips. Her previous sharp scorn was now overtaken by fear. At this point, stepping in would be futile as the Princess somehow managed to think in a way that allowed her to have the upper hand with only a few words. So, he studied her movements from behind and noted the air of certainty. Was she an acquaintance? Or perhaps a distant relative, as they were wearing identical dresses in different colours?

"A message from His Highness?"

The Princess stepped forward slowly, heels struck an even beat across the cold marble floor. "I couldn't possibly share such confidentiality with you now? But, as his fiance, I suppose you should be aware..." When she finally closed the distance and invaded the lady's space, the Princess held out her arm. "Come, let's return to the hall."