#yeah this noble lady is probably wearing a dress to this party. although actually. what if. suit

[githvyrik]

I’m that character designer they warned you about who refuses to put women in dresses lmao

[galactichen]

serenade || kai

All that you are

Is all that I’ll ever need

— Ed Sheeran

Serenade No. 1

It’s an evening of fun and dancing beneath the moonlight, and Jongin is absolutely enthralled by the atmosphere of the clinking of goblets and the shrill laughter that echoes throughout the courtyard. He lives for the nights when his family hosts elaborate parties for nobles all around the continent to gather.

Tonight was no exception.

Tonight was a masquerade, an idea he had presented to his father himself. “What a brilliant suggestion!” The King of the Eastern Isles boasted, clapping his second youngest son on the back. The idea was immediately set into motion, and not a week had passed when all the preparations were complete.

Tonight, Jongin finds himself at the centre of the dance floor, a mask tied around his head. It’s a black mask with intricate gold markings and large black feathers attached to the left side of the mask. Jongin himself dons a matching black military jacket with two rows of gold buttons from his neck to his waist. A short navy blue cape hangs over his left shoulder, clasped together by a broach that bore the crest of his country. His black boots are polished to perfection and they’re pulled to his knees over his white trousers. A rather stunning look for the third prince, if he’d say so himself.

“A masquerade was an ingenious idea,” says a voice beside Jongin, pulling the young man out of his thoughts. Jongin turns his head just enough to identify the owner of the voice. Despite the mask over the man’s face, Jongin could easily tell it was one of his older brothers. Crown Prince Minseok, he was. The crown on his head was probably the giveaway. Minseok wore clothes similar to Jongin, only his mask lacked the massive feathers and his cape was lined with fur. “I’m surprised it took this long to execute one of our own.”

“Crown Prince,” Jongin greets, bowing down before his brother. Minseok scoffs and waves his hand nonchalantly, beckoning his younger brother to rise because really, there wasn’t any need to bow down before your own brother even if it was for courtesy reasons. Or because all the nobles around the continent were gathered in the same courtyard.

“You’re really going to just bow to me in the middle of the party and give away my entire identity?” Minseok rolls his eyes under the mask, but he sports his usual gummy grin that Jongin easily reciprocates. “Anyway, enjoying yourself, dear brother?”

“Oh, very much,” Jongin eagerly responds. He glances around, taking in the glow of the torches about the border of the courtyard, illuminating the area just enough to see but not too much that it was blinding. Noblemen and women alike mingle around the duo, carrying goblets of wine as they toast and cheer in celebration of what’s to come. And like Jongin, they all wore elaborate masks to cover their faces. 

“I’m glad to hear,” Minseok says. The pair of brothers fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the party filling in between them like white noise. 

“So,” Jongin finally begins, to which Minseok responds with a raised brow. “I’ve heard some rumours that the Crown Prince has been courting a young noble lady.”

Minseok only smiles. “So I’ve heard as well.”

“You’re not going to tell me anymore than that?” Jongin asks, his voice tinged with a whine. “I’m your brother, Minseok!”

"Oh, don't you worry little brother." Minseok chuckles and leans towards Jongin. "I'll tell you later, yeah?"

Jongin scoffs. "You'd better."

Then something seems to catch Minseok's eye and Jongin doesn't miss the way his older brother's eyes light up and his grin becomes a little wider. 

"Now if you'll excuse me," Minseok says, not even sparing Jongin a glance before making his way towards whatever caught his eye, "I've got a lady to see myself."

Jongin chuckles and shakes his head to himself before turning around, but not before something—or rather, someone—collided with him.

Instinctively, Jongin reaches out and slips his arm around the person's waist, stopping them from slamming their head onto the cobblestone ground. Then when it finally registers in Jongin’s head that it’s, in fact, a lady he’s caught, his breath catches in his throat when he takes in her appearance.

Your floor-length gown is a stunner. Simple yet breathtaking. It's a deep red colour, complete with a sweetheart neckline and a bow on the left side of your chest. Your sleeves are frilled to match the frills of your skirt at the bottom, white peeking out beneath the red skirt to add a touch of innocence to the otherwise divine dress. Jongin feels his heart skip a beat when his gaze finally reaches your face, and although it's covered by a simple, white mask, he can already tell he's fallen farther than he's ever fallen in his life.

Ahem.

The sound of a throat-clearing jarred Jongin out of his thoughts and he hastily brings you back up and releases you, taking to wringing his hands in front of him instead.

"Thank you..." you say, and Jongin can't help but melt at the sound of your voice. Then it takes Jongin a moment before he realizes you’re waiting for him to introduce himself so you can properly thank him.

"Jongin," he blurts a little too eagerly for his taste. He cringes. Outwardly. Then he cringes again, this time inwardly. He bows a little, adding, "Third Prince Jongin of the Eastern Isles."

You beam at him and he breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Lord Prince. If it were not for you, then I would have found myself on the floor, writhing in pain. So, thank you."

Jongin grins easily. "Of course," he dips down into a bow again, offering a hand. You respond by slipping your own into his, and he brushed his lips against your knuckles.

The moment he releases your hand, you turn away and a surge of panic ripples through Jongin's chest. 

"Wait!" He immediately reaches out and grasps your wrist in his, grinning like a love-struck teenage boy. "What is your name?"

You smile brightly, and Jongin literally feels himself swoon. "Queen of the Highlands."

X X X

It's a few month's time before Jongin finally gets the annual invitation he's been waiting for. Not that he's been waiting for it annually, but rather it's an invitation to an annual event. Your birthday, of course.

The Queen of the Highlands.

X X X

"You've never accompanied me before to any birthday parties," Minseok says during the carriage ride towards the Kingdom located within the Highlands. They had departed from their respective home a whole month before, traveling by ship to the mainland and then by carriage the rest of the way there. At last, it would only be another hour until their expected arrival. "So why the sudden interest?"

Jongin tries to shrug nonchalantly to mask his infatuation for the Queen. "I've found myself cooped up in my study every day for the past few months. I just thought a little bit of fresh air might help."

Minseok grins, and for a moment Jongin thinks Minseok has seen completely through his facade. But then he says, "I'm glad, Jongin." A genuine smile spreads across the Crown Prince’s face, and Jongin feels his heart grow warm with affection for his eldest brother. “You know, for being the only brother willing to accompany me to these things,” Minseok adds with a little chuckle.

Their exchange ends abruptly when the carriage comes to a stop and Minseok pushes open his door, Jongin following in suit. They both step out onto the cobblestone road before the humble abode of the Queen of the Highlands, and Jongin feels his heart rate increase at the thought of you.

Jongin takes a moment to take in the scenery around them. The Highlands was a mountainous country with mountain ranges stretching as far as the eye could see. It also offered tons of rolling hills, with the capital of the Highlands actually being situated on top of a hill. 

Jongin exhales. He could get used to this view.

"Crown Prince!" calls out a voice Jongin may have accidentally grown a little too accustomed to, despite only hearing it a couple times back at the masquerade a few months prior. "I’m glad you could make it."

As Jongin appears on the other side of the carriage where the voice and his brother were, he catches sight of Minseok brushing his own lips against the Queen’s knuckles. A twinge of jealousy tugs at Jongin's heart, but it's gone as soon as he remembers that Minseok's heart has already been given to someone else. Minseok stands and steps aside, and Jongin feels butterflies in his stomach just looking at you. 

You’re wearing a simple floor-length sky blue dress, the sweetheart neckline exposing a little bit of skin. A long, darker blue cape is fastened around your neck, held together by a brooch bearing the crest of your own kingdom. Your hair is pinned up, and Jongin swears he’s never seen another woman more beautiful than you.

"You must be the Third Prince.” You smile at Jongin as he approached. “I’m pleased you could make it this year.” 

Jongin immediately drops down to one knee and accepts your hand in his own, pressing his lips against the back of your hand in greeting. "Lady Queen," Jongin echoes, rising and releasing your hand. "I am honoured to have been invited to such an event."

You laugh brightly. "I pray your trip here was pleasant?"

"As it is always, Lady Queen," Minseok answers. A couple servants that had accompanied you to receive the two men maneuver about the carriage, eventually ushering it away to the stables, leaving the three of you and the remaining servants to head into the castle on foot. “The seas were calm as we sailed across, and the travel here was scenic and undisturbed as it should be.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you say. 

Suddenly a servant comes rushing out of the castle entrance as you approach. She glances around until she spots the Queen and scurries over, whispering something supposedly urgent into your ear.

“My apologies, men.” You turn to Jongin and Minseok with a little sheepish look. “It appears I have an urgent matter to attend to. I wish I could show you to your chambers where you will be staying, but it appears that I will have to leave you under the care of my servants.”

Jongin feels his heart sink a little at your words.

“Not a problem,” Minseok replies. “Being a ruler comes first, Lady Queen.”

“Shall I see the two of you for dinner tonight? The rest of the guests should be arriving sometime tomorrow.” You smile broadly, glancing between the two men.

“Of course, Lady Queen,” Jongin cuts in before Minseok could say anything, earning a surprised look from the older man for it was rather normal for the Third Prince to hang back and let his older brothers do all the talking. “It would be our pleasure.”

“Wonderful. I shall see you tonight, then.” And with a simple curtsey from you and a bow from the men, you walk through the doors first, leaving the men with the servants.

X X X

Jongin is exhausted, to say the least.

It’s the evening of the following day, and he’s ready to curl up into a ball and sleep for an eternity already, and the event he’s traveled all the way here for hasn’t even happened yet because it’s scheduled for the next day.

But he’s stuck here feeling out of place in a room full of guests who’ve come all the way to attend the Queen’s birthday party as well, and he can’t even retire to his chambers for the night because it’d be considered rude according to Minseok. The worst part is—he couldn’t seem to find you amidst the crowd of people. Not that he was actively seeking you out like a predator or anything, but he was just… curious about your whereabouts.

Jongin sighs. He’s standing beside Minseok at the moment, the latter currently engaged in a conversation with a Lord from… was it the Northern Isles? Jongin quickly glances over at the man. Navy blue coat… Red cape… Then he finally spots the brooch bearing the crest of the—yes, Jongin was right: the Northern Isles.

“Yes, my father is doing better now,” the Lord was saying when Jongin finally tunes into the conversation. “I will be sure to let him know.” He pauses for a moment before continuing, “So what brings the Third Prince to a gathering like this? Never have I seen the Crown Prince with one of his brothers on an outing before.”

“People change,” Minseok answers for Jongin. “I’m just thankful it’s for the better and I actually have company this time around. Makes the trip more bearable, yeah? And what about you, Crown Prince? None of your brothers have decided to come with?”

Ah, that’s right, Jongin thinks to himself. He’s not a Lord, but the Crown Prince of the Northern Isles: Luhan. Jongin mentally sighs. He should’ve recognized Crown Prince Luhan as he is one of Minseok’s close friends, but alas, it’s been a long day and Jongin is tired out of his mind. Or at least that’s what Jongin keeps telling himself.

“They all have their respective affairs to attend to,” Luhan replies. “Yifan is busy taking care of Father and Zitao is still training the new soldiers. I only happened to be free to attend this year because my meeting with the Western Isles was canceled due to some issues arising in their country.”

“Hm, that’s unfortunate.” Minseok frowns. “I do hope the trading route situation gets resolved. It would be a shame to lose out on their supply of copper.”

“My apologies,” Jongin suddenly interrupts, “if I may, I’m going to step out for a little while. It’s a bit stuffy in here and it’s making me awfully nauseous.”

Minseok and Luhan glance at the younger male and both nod simultaneously.

“Of course, go ahead,” Luhan says first, gesturing with his hand. “I don’t mean to keep you here or anything.”

“Just don’t get lost, yeah?” Minseok grins.

X X X

Soon enough, Jongin has found his way into the courtyard of the castle. 

It’s not as large as his own courtyard, but still large enough to hold quite a party. The castle walls loom over him, boxing in the courtyard with its lovely architecture. Trees cast long, dark shadows across the courtyard, and little lanterns light up the various pathways that lead to and fro. In the centre of the courtyard is a raised marble platform, intricate designs engraved carefully into the stone. 

Jongin stops in his tracks. Is that music he is hearing?

He begins to follow the sound of an instrument: gentle plucks of string that ring through the evening air like a voice beckoning him towards it. Like a vocalist singing a song for its lover, the instrument’s voice is captivating, romantic, and enchanting. It’s not long before he reaches the centre platform where the source of the music is, and his breath hitches in his throat the sight before him.

It’s you, the Queen, who is playing the gayageum. You’re kneeling at the centre of the platform, the instrument laid out before you on your lap, and your eyes are closed as you pluck away at the strings. Jongin takes in the sight, and he feels himself falling for you even farther than before (was that even possible?). His eyelids flutter shut as the music pulls him into a trance-like state, and he can feel his feet itching to move, itching to dance. But he restrains himself. Not now.

Suddenly, the music stops.

“Lord Prince,” you say, and his eyes snap open and his body goes rigid.

“Lady Queen,” he exclaims, immediately dropping into a deep bow. “My deepest apologies, I didn't mean to eavesdrop on you. I just wanted to come out to get some fresh air and I couldn’t help but notice the beautiful music coming from here. Please forgive me.”

“You may rise,” you finally say after what feels like an eternity for Jongin. Hesitantly, he looks up before slowly standing up straight. “And you are forgiven.”

Jongin fidgets a little on his spot, unsure of what to do with himself.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to join me here?” you call out to him, and again he finds himself swooning at the sound of your voice and the sight of your smile that you’re directing to him.

“O-Of course, Lady Queen.” Jongin nods and almost scurries up the steps and towards your spot on the platform. You sit with your hands folded in your lap before the gayageum and Jongin has to tell himself multiple times to act natural and to not act like a goddamn fool because for heaven’s sake, the Queen of the Highlands is right in front of him and he could not afford to give her a bad impression of himself, his country, his-

“I’ve been playing since I was a little girl,” you begin to say, and Jongin’s thoughts pull the brakes immediately. He decides to kneel down beside you, breathing deeply to calm his heart rate. “I was always drawn to the sounds of the gayageum, so my mother agreed to sign me up for private lessons with the best teacher in the country.”

“Well, it seems to have paid off,” Jongin murmurs, “your playing is wonderful.”

You quietly thank him, and Jongin’s heart takes off again when he sees you reach up and brush back a loose strand of hair behind your ear almost shyly. 

Jongin breathes deeply again. “So, why are you out here, Lady Queen? I thought you were supposed to be inside entertaining your guests.”

“Well, I’m entertaining one guest right now, aren’t I, Lord Prince?” you tease, and he laughs just a little bit at that. Perhaps that’s why he’s so enchanted by you. Despite your elegance, your nobility as a Queen—a queen!—you still had a certain humbleness about you, like you didn’t want to hold yourself too high above others in fear of looking down at them. “I just needed a little refresher,” you finally answer him. “It’s honestly quite suffering just being in that room with so many people at once congratulating you for living long enough to see another year. Why I have to hold a birthday party for everyone to come to every year, I’m not quite sure myself. It’s something my advisors have told me to do to keep friendly relations between our allies.”

Jongin smiles at your words, as it brings back a faraway memory of his oldest brother complaining about the same thing, for Crown children have a far larger weight on their shoulders compared to their younger siblings. If Jongin was being honest, he’d say he was blessed to have been born Third Prince. 

“I came for some fresh air as well,” Jongin says. “I…” he hesitates, “I felt a little out of place. Everyone was talking about politics and trading and I… it’s not something I’m interested in or good at.”

“All it takes is a little practice,” you assure him. “I’m sure the Crown Prince would be happy to help you.”

“I’m sure he would, too,” Jongin agrees.

“Tell me, Lord Prince,” you say after a little while, “Do you have any hobbies?”

“I, um, dance,” Jongin answers with a little smile.

“Oh, any specialties?” You inquire suddenly, and he only shrugs with a laugh.

“Mostly ballet.”

“Can I play you something?” He swears you sound almost eager as you unfold your hands from your lap and quickly pluck a chord. “That you can dance to?”

“Of course.” He nods almost a little too vigorously with the biggest grin and you laugh as you play another couple of chords, seemingly settling into a key you felt fitting for Jongin’s impromptu performance.

After a couple minutes of shuffling around, Jongin is finally situated in the centre of the raised platform with you off to the side in front of him so you could see his performance and play at the same time. His boots have been discarded and his jacket is folded beside you, leaving him only in his black trousers and a white blouse. His eyelids flutter shut as he waits for the music to begin, willing for himself to essentially lose himself to the music.

Soon enough, the music begins. You start off with a rather moderate tempo, fingers precise as you pluck at the strings. Jongin begins to catch onto the rhythm you’re laying before him, with certain notes accentuated with a stronger pluck and the weaker notes lighter and a little quicker. He feels his feet moving naturally, almost automatically to the music as if he’s heard it all his life and not for the first time ever. His arms flutter as he leaps across the platform, twirling and he almost laughs out loud because it’s been so long since he’s been able to lose himself to a piece like this before. It’s absolutely exhilarating and refreshing. 

It’s amazing how two people can create such art without ever having performed together before.

To Jongin’s dismay, the music ends a little too soon and he’s left breathing heavily in front of you, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. Then there’s quiet clapping and he glances up at you, the source of the clapping.

You smile brightly at him and Jongin can’t help but grin in response, and for a moment he’s forgotten that he’s a prince and you’re a queen.

“That was absolutely marvelous!” You exclaim, “You certainly have a talent for ballet, Lord Prince.”

“I- Thank you, Lady Queen,” Jongin stammers, still struggling to catch his breath. “It’s been a while since I’ve danced like that.”

He stumbles a little when he walks over to you, but he catches himself with a sheepish grin before plopping down beside you where you’ve pushed the gayageum out onto the floor in front of you.

“Lord Prince?”

He turns his head to you and it’s at that moment when he notices the rather close proximity between the two of you. Strangely, he doesn’t feel the urge to jerk away like he would normally.

“Would you… be my escort to the party tomorrow?”

Jongin grins. He inhales deeply and offers his hand to you, to which you smile and place your hand in his. He musters all of his courage to lift your hand to his lips, brushing them lightly against your knuckles. Despite having done this a few times before, it’s the close proximity that makes him even more nervous.

“It would be my honour.”

Part 1 - Fin.

X X X 

Gayageum - a traditional Korean zither-like instrument.

[shinobi-imagines]

please read my story ㅠㅠ

Hi everyone! It’s been a minute... I don’t really come on Tumblr much anymore, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t write! I just wanted to take the time to plug my new KakaOC fanfic called, The Price of Simplicity (read on fanfiction.net or ao3). 

The story starts in Kakashi’s ANBU days where he meets a civilian named, Tsuru. He finds her incredibly annoying, loud, yet she still draws him in for some reason. Soon, he finds out that Tsuru is terminally ill and is destined to die at a young age. While it is Tsuru could never fully understand the life of a shinobi, Kakashi realizes that the two aren’t so different. 

I would really appreciate it if you guys could read, comment, like, follow, and support my work! I will leave the first chapter under the cut!

The darkest times of Kakashi Hatake’s life were in his youth. The time which many advise you not to waste were tossed in the throes of war for Kakashi. He was bitter. So bitter for so many years and often wondered what the point of living was. However, he swore to himself since he was a little boy that suicide was not an option. Suicide was for cop outs like his father was when the man had left his son that one brutal night. So, Kakashi contemplated to the best way or any acceptable way for a shinobi to die.

By twenty-three, Kakashi was already a well established ninja in Konoha. He had climbed the ranks quickly and by the time he was sixteen, he had already become an ANBU captain. Here he was. Nine years and still an ANBU. Seven years and still a captain. Kakashi had stopped caring for rankings the moment he understood the burden that came with excellence.

“It’s settled then!” his “eternal rival” Gai yelled fiercely. “Kakashi, you’re coming out with us tonight!”

Gai hadn’t changed much in Karachi’s eyes. He was still annoying and much too intense, but Gai was perhaps the only person Kakashi found some comfort in. However, Gai’s attempts to get Kakashi to socialize was starting to get on his nerves.

“Tonight,” Gai continued, “you and I will battle over and over again! We’ll see who the best drinker is! We will see who can get the most girls! We will see-”

“You can stop,” Kakashi denied cooly. “I won’t be going out.”

“I think you misunderstand,” Gai almost growled. “This is no request nor is it a simple invitation. It is a challenge!”

Kakashi sighed. Had he said no to Gai’s demand…well…no wouldn’t have been an acceptable answer. It was Kakashi’s fault in the first place for telling the man he was given a day off the very next day.

Gai had come to visit Kakashi who was getting treated at the hospital for some injuries and a checkup from his previous mission. Although Kakashi hated being in the hospital, it was routine to go and Kakashi liked having routines.

Kakashi let the sounds of Gai drown out as he looked up at the ceiling wondering what he’d gotten into. The two walked down the hall way towards the lobby of the hospital when a girl walked by. Neither of the ninjas noticed her. She was just a patient wearing clothes provided by the hospital. She seemed rather happy and walked with a smile on her face that is until she tripped over seemingly nothing and fell fatefully right in front of two ninjas.

“Are you okay?” Kakashi asked offering a hand to help her up.

“I’m fine!” she replied obviously flustered. She ignored the hand that Kakashi held out and rushed past the two before they could get a glimpse of her face.

“She looked a little young to be in the hospital,” Gai noted out loud.

“Yeah,” Kakashi concurred. “But you never know what happens in someone’s life. Look at me, I come here all the time.”

The bushy browed man merely blinked unsure if Kakashi was being serious or had told a joke.

Night came in almost no time. The sun had gown down and the village lights turned on. There were no kids out on the streets during this hour unless they were trying to sneak into bars to get their first tastes of alcohol with some thrill on the side. Honestly, Kakashi could spot those kids in the farthest corner of the bar from over a mile away without the help of his Sharingan. They were visibly attempting to contain their excitement and attempting to ignore the fact that they stuck out like a sore thumb.He probably didn’t realize that he was glaring at the boys, but Kakashi’s friends surely did.

“Hey,” Asuma called out to Kakashi. “Just let them be. They’re just having fun.”

“Yeah!” Genma jokingly snapped all too stoic man. “The party’s here, Kakashi!”

In Kakashi’s mind, he was thinking about how ungrateful those kids were acting. People like him from a young age put their lives on the line so that people like them could be safe and away from war. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? They didn’t know war because people like Kakashi had made it so they wouldn’t need to know war. Finally caving into his friends’ desires, he rejoined the group with a shot of sake which was met with a round of cheers from the other four men.

“Oh, Raido!” Genma drunkenly whispered to his friend sitting beside him. “Look at that lady who just walked in. Isn’t she pretty?”

Genma’s drunk whisper reached everyone’s ears, and certainly at the door was a very pretty woman with blonde hair that looked almost white and a pair of gray eyes. She wore a tight black dress with long lace sleeves and a pair of black heels. Talk immediately began circulating around the bar. Some speculated, she might have been a model although she looked a little short to be a model. Others theorized the girl was an actress, however, no one had seen her in any sort of production before.

Whoever she was, she seemed to be alone. Kakashi noticed that she had the same light of excitement and innocence in her eyes as the underage fellows who thought that they had beat the system. A naive girl at a bar alone only screamed danger. As predicted, a rugged man with a red flush spread across his cheeks approached the woman.

“Do we stop him?” Raido asks the group.

“I don’t know,” Asuma added.

“Did she not come with anyone?” Genma inquired further.

“If no one’s going to to take this chance, then I-” Gai stopped abruptly as Kakashi got up from his seat towards the girl who was clearly about to be harassed.

“Oh,” Asuma said surprised, “I guess even Kakashi can’t resist a beautiful damsel in distress.”

In truth, Kakashi just about had it with being surrounded by such annoying people. He slowly walked over watching as the drunk man flirted with the girl who looked unsure of what to do.

“Are you new here?” the man slurred. “If you are, I’ll buy you a drink and I could show you around the village tonight.”

“Uh,” she stammered, “no. I was actually born and raised here. Also, I don’t drink.”

“Eh? No way. A pretty face like your’s is something no one could forget!”

The stranger leaned closer and placed a hand on the woman’s knee. His face was right beside her ear when a shadow casted over his back. The woman looked up to see Kakashi with a dark glare in his eyes. It honestly frightened her too.

“If you don’t want any trouble,” Kakashi started to advise, “you’ll go back to your seat.”

“And who do you think you-” the man cut himself off as turned around. “K-K-Kakashi-san! What a surprise!”

The woman watched as the man stuttered like a baby before Kakashi.

“P-Please,” he got up and bowed, “excuse me!”

Kakashi glared down the man as he cowered and rushed away bumping into various chairs on his way back. He heard the woman sigh in relief. When he turned his glare to the woman, she jumped. He noticed that all the girl had her table was a cup of water. Kakashi recalled that the woman had claimed that she doesn’t drink.

“Oi,” Kakashi called out to who seemed like the dumbest woman alive, “are you stupid?”

“Excuse me?” she asked taken aback.

“Hey,” Gai rushed over to his friend, “calm down. You have to excuse him, he’s been really tense lately! Let us take you home. You can trust us, we’re noble shinobi of Konoha!”

“You heard me,” Kakashi ignored Gai. “Are you stupid?”

The woman pouted. Gai could see the flames blaring between the two intense stares.

“Well, who are you to interfere in someone else’s business?” she exclaimed in disbelief at the man’s audacity.

Before Gai could mitigate the situation any father, Kakashi and Gai saw the woman’s expression change from one of annoyance to surprise. As if on cue, another woman barged in.

“Tsuru nee-san!” she screamed angrily.

“Oh!” cried out the woman named Tsuru. “If it isn’t my little sister! Fancy seeing you here, Hyo-chan!”

Then a sound like the crack of lightning made the whole bar still. Hyo slapped Tsuru right across her face. This shocked even Kakashi because he was intending on reprimanding the dimwitted girl, however, this other woman with dark hair stepped in.

The two, who had claimed to be sisters, seemed to be related in only subtle ways. While Tsuru’s hair was light and long, Hyo’s hair was dark and short. Tsuru was much prettier than Hyo who’s appearance looked to be no more than average. However, the two had the same pale complexion and the same shade of gray eyes. Both were also rather short.

Another striking difference between the two was the existence of a Konoha hitae-ate around Hyo’s forehead. She wore the standard shinobi outfit. Judging by what he could see, Karachi deducted that Hyo was probably someone who was less invested in how she looked as opposed to her older sister.

“Wait outside for me, nee-san,” Hyo’s voice was quiet and demanding. It sent cold air throughout the silently stunned bar.

Without complaint, the older sister did as she was told.

“Wasn’t that a little too far?” Gai questioned Hyo. “You shouldn’t disrespect those who are older than you.”

Hyo glowered at the bushy browed jonin, “If she were your sister, you’d want to slap some sense into her too. The bitch keeps sneaking out of the hospital.”

For a moment, Kakashi noticed Hyo’s eyes grow grim before returning back to its original intensity.

The hospital? Kakashi realized that Tsuru was the girl he had tried to help up earlier that day.

“But still…” Gai’s voiced trailed off.

“I apologize,” Hyo bowed to the two men. “I hope my sister didn’t cause too much trouble for my seniors. I’ll be going now.”

Once the dark haired girl was gone, Kakashi said, “Gai.”

“Yeah,” Gai started, “I know. That Tsuru girl is the girl from the hospital.”

“Yes, but there’s something more than that.”

“Hm? What might that be?”

“She doesn’t seem to be a ninja, but she sensed her sister coming.”

“You’re right!”

“Oi!” Asuma called out to the two. “If you’re done making a ruckus, come join us for Kings’ Game!”

Gai marched happily back to the table amongst their friends. Kakashi too headed back, but with Tsuru in the back of his mind.

To put the facts together, Tsuru was undeniably beautiful; however, Kakashi had never seen her around before. She probably had some sort of condition that keeps her in the hospital. And it seemed that although she didn’t appear to be a kunoichi like her sister, she showed signs that she was a sensory type ninja which was a rare talent to have and develop. A spy maybe?

In the end, the group of inebriated and rowdy men certainly provided as a much needed distraction for Kakashi. While Kakashi didn’t really laugh or smile that night, he had to admit that he was rather entertained. Perhaps he was too accustomed in reading into things. Things aren’t always as they seem; but as one of Konoha’s elite shinobi he couldn’t help but think of all possible scenarios from the best to the worst.

Nonetheless, Kakashi woke up with a raging hangover the next morning. Probably from all the thinking.

[dayseternal-blog]

For @nhweek Days 6 & 7: Dreams, Yesterday.

She's a nameless girl. Strange in dress, appearance, and accent in a foreign kingdom. She stowed away on a merchant ship, running from a certain future much worse than just losing her name.

A NaruHina retelling of the fairytale Catskin.

Rated M

Read it on Ao3 at NarutoDays (DAYS8).

Chapter 3: Dreams/Yesterday

Hinata stares at the gowns, the memory of wearing them, the memory of Toneri’s grip pulling her, him invading her space, his eyes violating her.  Her lip tightens and she swallows back the rising sense of shame.

“Tell me how you came into possession of these.  Are these yours or our Lady’s?” Kurenai questions.  She has never seen Lady Kushina in such gowns.  They seem much too flashy for a married woman.  “Or are they Lady Karin’s?”  It’s possible the maid stole them when the family came to visit, though they don’t exactly seem like Lady Karin’s style, either.  For such elaborate gowns to go missing, Lady Karin would have thrown a loud tantrum, but the family left in good humour.

“Kurenai...they are mine,” she whispers.  

“How can I believe you?  How do I know you didn’t steal them?”  She believes her, but...it’s still hard to believe.  Who is this girl she saved from certain capture and imprisonment?

Hinata takes a steady breath.  She gathers her hair to the side, twisting it as if to tie it up into an elaborate updo.  She lets her hair go.  She draws herself up into the confident, impeccable, regal posture of a fine lady.  She holds her chin higher and gives Kurenai her practiced, small smile.

Kurenai’s eyes widen.  

She quickly drops it, sinking back into her comfortable posture.  She then explains quietly, “I brought them with me when I left home...I was planning to sell them for money to sustain myself until I found steady work.  Since you saved me, I didn’t have use for them anymore…”

Kurenai gazes at her, wanting to unravel the girl’s secret past.  Hina was apparently the daughter of a rich lord.  What would force her to run away?  “...Fortunately for you, I believe you.  You are a hard worker.  I won’t force you to tell me about your circumstances, but I do wonder...has it been worth it?”

Hinata looks at Kurenai in surprise at the question.  

Kurenai’s expression is one of care and worry.

She nods.  “Yes, although I must admit I miss some facets of my old life…”  My sister.  “...Everything here has been perfect for me.  Truly, thank you for everything, Kurenai.”

Kurenai shakes her head.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

She hangs her head and after a moment of thought, she nods.  It’s stifling to keep such a huge secret.

“Come.”  Kurenai guides her to the bed, and they both take a seat on it in the tiny room.

Hinata doesn’t give away anything about her home, her awful engagement, or any names, but she talks about her sister.  How the idea to run away was her sister’s, how the strange catskin coat is her only possession to remind her of her sister, and how she worries about her sister’s wellbeing.

Kurenai listens.  She doesn’t ask any questions.  She shares about her own life, how she came as a teenager to Uzushio as a part of a freak show due to her witch’s red eyes.  How a young Lady Kushina saw her and immediately sympathized.  How she was bought from the circus and subsequently employed at their household.  

It’s not until late when Kurenai bids her goodnight, and despite her tiredness, Hinata realizes she’s never felt quite so rested.  It feels good to have someone she can trust know about her past.  And it feels nice to learn more about the person who saved her.

The days fly by quickly as everyone prepares for the ball.  Hinata helps with seemingly everything.  Preparing the bedding, the linens, the dishware, the meals, the candles, the work is endless.  

She remembers the last time her family hosted a grand celebration.  It had been a little over a year after her mother had passed, in an effort for the Hyuuga family to appear still-functioning.  It was a large affair, but her father had been so unhappy throughout it all.  It wasn’t the same without her mother.  Hinata doesn’t remember the work that went into it.  She only remembers the material she helped choose for a new gown and the dress Hanabi wore.  She only remembers the dancing and her father’s silent expression.

She knows from later gatherings that other families would stress out about the choosing of the invitations, the linens, the menu.  It seems silly to her now.  The servants always did all the work.  It’s more like the servants are the ones throwing a party.

She shakes her head and sighs now at her past frivolity.  So much work and they don’t get to enjoy it.  They’ll be working all night...

But no one complains.  Although the work is more, the servants seem motivated.  The older maids more knowledgeable of the lords and ladies make bets about possible matches with the young master.  The castle comes alive as decorations and flowers are brought in, and the proud sight seems to cheer everyone up.

The day arrives, and the castle is abuzz with excitement.  Close relatives arrive in the morning, but Hinata is not high enough up in ranks to wait on them.  

When the sun begins to set, and new guests start to arrive, she carefully walks along the perimeters with Shizuka and a few other young maids, lighting candles and straightening floral arrangements.  As soon as they finish, they head back down toward the kitchens for further instruction.

But Shizuka grabs her arm.  “Come with me,” she whispers.

“O-okay.”  Hinata lets her friend pull her along.  

They head down to the servants’ quarters, and she sees Kurenai with a candle, waiting for them.  Perhaps they have some sort of special duty?

Kurenai guides her to her room, and her brows furrow, finding them flanking her on both sides.  “W-what’s going…”

Kurenai pulls open her closet again.

“...on?”

“Wow!” Shizuka breathes.  “These gowns look amazing!  These are really yours?”

“...yes…” she answers, unsure.

Shizuka turns and scrutinizes Hinata in the flickering candlelight.  “Put one of them on!”

Hinata stares at her friend.  Why?  I don’t...want to…  She frowns.  “These are all from my past...I don’t really-”

Shizuka shakes her head.  “I’ve heard you sighing all week.”

Hinata frowns harder.  “...Not all week…”

“I know you want to go...I might have heard you and Kurenai talking…”

“Shizuka!” she scolds.  She can’t believe her friend would eavesdrop on her like that.

“Yeah, Kurenai caught me.”  She smiles sheepishly.

Hinata sighs.

“Please, Bucchi, just for tonight!  I want to see the real you.”

She frowns again because isn’t she always her “real” self?  “I...don’t know...everyone is so busy, and I will probably be missed.”

“No one would notice you’re gone.  You’re so unobtrusive anyway.”

Hinata considers Shizuka’s somewhat rude words, knowing them to be true.  Probably no one would notice.

“I’ll take one of your work days!  You can finish that book I know you took from the library…”

“Shizuka!” she hisses, turning wide eyes at Kurenai.  

“You have my permission to go, Hina.  But if you’re going to go, we have to do this quickly.”

Hinata stalls for a moment before giving up.  Truthfully, she hadn’t been looking forward to a night of watching others dance.  She gives them an embarrassed smile.  “Thank you,” she murmurs.  “It’ll be just for a moment, though.  I’ll come back and change after a couple of songs.”

Kurenai and Shizuka smile at her.  

“Let’s get you dressed!” Shizuka exclaims.

They help Hinata into her silver gown, pulling the back tight until she can almost not quite breathe, which she appreciates.  It’s been awhile since her personal maid squeezed the life out of her, and she doesn’t think she can handle that ever again.  Kurenai assists her with pulling her hair up into an easy bun and putting a little makeup on.

She steps into the silver heels and pulls on matching silver gloves.

It’s weird, and yet, at the same time, disturbingly familiar.  As if the gown is a skin she had shed and left behind, only to come back and find it still fits.  As if time had done nothing, as if she hadn’t changed at all, even though she feels completely different on the inside.

She can almost feel Toneri at her door…

“You look completely different,” Shizuka breathes.

Kurenai slowly nods in agreement.  

With her hair pulled out of her face, the candlelight catches on her high cheekbones, her milky skin, her even hairline.  Her eyes brighten in a way none of them had seen before, and they note, they do have color, albeit not quite one they can name.  It becomes apparent to them that the ragged girl really does have noble birth.

“Oh, Bucchi, wow.  You’re beautiful,” Shizuka says again in awe.  “No one is going to recognize you.  I hardly recognize you.”

“Really?” she asks nervously.

Shizuka nods again.

“Let’s hurry.  Hina, go out the back door and make your way around the castle.  Since the dancing has already begun, you won’t have to worry about being announced, and likely no one will see you unaccompanied outside,” Kurenai says, rushing them out of the room.

“Have fun!” Shizuka whispers excitedly.

“Thank you, Shizuka.  Thank you, Kurenai.  I’ll be back to help as soon as I can.”

She heads around the castle, only to see that people are in fact still arriving.  She stands there, hiding behind some hedges, waiting to see if the crowd goes down.  But even then, the coachmen could see her.

She tightens her lips.  She can’t go back. Not after all the work Shizuka and Kurenai put into her appearance.  

She stands there indecisively, until she realizes she doesn’t have to go into the ballroom through the front door.

She steps through the manicured gardens toward the ballroom, taking the time to actually enjoy the designs.  Music filters through the open side-doors, and she sways to the music a bit as she walks around.

The last time she enjoyed any gardens was with Hanabi.  

She wonders about her sister.  Whether her sister has attended any balls since she left.  Whether she’s danced with Konohamaru.  She can just imagine her sister acting uninterested, but in the end, relenting easily to his advances.  The thought brings a smile to her face, and she wanders around the gardens, admiring the details, flowers, and scents.

“Good evening, miss.”

Her eyes widen, her heart instantly leaping into her throat at the unexpected, familiar, gravelly voice.  “M-Ma-”  Her eyes widen even more, as she catches herself about to say “Master Naruto.”  She swallows and turns, recomposing herself into the lady her father always expected of her with her practiced, small smile.  “My, it really is a good evening.”

He grins.  “It looks like I surprised you.  Sorry about that.”  His intention in saying a greeting first was to not scare her, but it looks like he fails at manners no matter what he does.

He doesn’t recognize me.  Relief floods her, and she looks at him and realizes...he’s devastatingly handsome.  It could be the embellished tunic and cloak, or the candlelight she and the maids had set up earlier, or the music, or it could just be him...but seeing him outside like this in the intimate dark feels completely different.  She blinks quickly to come back to the present. She shakes her head and smiles again.  “Almost anyone can surprise me.  It wasn’t you.”

His brows suddenly furrow.  He stares at her.  Her eyes.  He notes they’re exactly like that maid’s, that young woman who, for some reason he cannot fathom, dislikes him.  Who would’ve thought that there was more than one person in this world who has eyes like hers.  It isn’t a birth defect after all.  Perhaps it’s an eye color specific to a certain region?  He rubs the back of his neck nervously.  “Ah, sorry to stare.”  She doesn’t even know that he was staring at her from the terrace.  That he came outside for a breather, but he never got it back once he saw her.  “You have the same eyes as someone I know.”

“O-oh,” she murmurs.  

He clears his throat.  This young woman makes him feel socially awkward in a way that he never feels.  “Was the music not to your tastes?  What are you doing out here?”  Alone?  

“Oh,” she searches for an excuse.  “I just needed a break.  The party is lovely.”  She smiles a bit to herself, knowing that it’s thanks to her and the servants’ work.

He nods.  “I’m glad.”  He doesn’t recall seeing her inside at all.  Certainly he would have noticed her when she came up to introduce herself at the beginning, right?  Maybe there were just too many women.  His eyes were starting to roll to the back of his head with all the names, formalities, crowded gowns, and he couldn’t handle anymore.  Thus his escape outdoors when his parents got swept into a conversation and stopped monitoring him.

“How is the party going for you, Naruto?”  His title-less name on her lips is strange, but she finds herself savoring it.  

“Oh, it’s wonderful!  Although honestly, balls are not exactly my favorite way to pass the time...  Ah, but the household’s staff put so much work into tonight, I will do my best to enjoy it to the fullest!”

She looks at him in wonder.  He never fails to surprise her.  “Yes, they certainly do work very hard.  I...never thank them enough.”

His eyes widen.  “You understand!  My cousins never understand me, that the staff do so much, it feels wrong to call them my servants...but, you understand me, right?”

A blush rises.  She wouldn’t have understood before, but…she nods.  “I understand now.”  She notices the way his eyes glow, lively, down at her, and she feels the urge to learn more about him.  What makes him so special?  He seems to be cut from a different cloth.  Enlightened about people in a way no one else is.  “What do you usually do to pass the time?”

He grins.  He tells her of hunting, of board games with his cousins, of traveling.

She asks questions, amazed that she can carry on a conversation with him...that he lets her carry the conversation.  She asks him more questions about the places he’s been to, about the people he has met, about his hunting excursions, about his family.  She learns a ton about him, while simultaneously not giving him a chance to ask her any personal questions.

But eventually he laughs off her following question, “That’s enough about me already.  What about you?  What do you like to do?”

It’s a safe question.  One she can answer without giving too much about herself away.  “I enjoy reading.  And walking in the gardens.  I like shopping and looking at the new patterns…I don’t do too many interesting things,” she answers bashfully.

He shakes his head in disagreement of her words.  She seems so modest, unlike the Uzumaki women, all strong characters.  “What do you think of my family’s gardens?”

She smiles, looking around.  “They are certainly the most beautiful I have ever seen,” she breathes.

He blushes.  “I..uh...actually designed some of them a few years ago,” he admits.

Her eyes widen up at him.  “Really?  Which ones?”

“Here.”  He offers his arm to her, heat coming to his cheeks that he hopes she can’t see in the dark.  “Let me show you around.”

She hesitates to take his arm.  But he’s holding his arm up so earnestly, it would be flat-out rude to reject him.  She swallows her nerves, realizing that Toneri never once offered his arm to her.  Naruto is a far cry from the man she left behind.  Almost in an act of rebellion, she fits her hand into the crook of his arm carefully.

They smile at each other for a heart-stopping second.  

He bites his lip and faces forward.  “This way.”  He takes her further into the gardens, the music turning distant.  

“I-is it okay for you to be so far from the celebration?” she asks, uncertain.

“It’s fine,” he shrugs carelessly.

She can’t stop her giggle.  He’s so different from the young lords she knew back home, who were always concerned about making good impressions in front of the wealthy, who were always too scared to even talk to her due to her severe father.

He grins self-consciously at her.  “What?”

“Oh nothing…”

“What is it?”

“It’s really nothing.”

“Fine, don’t tell me.”

“W-what?” she gasps out in a surprised laugh.

They walk through the gardens, and he points out certain flowers and plants to her.  He takes her through the hedges she admired when she first arrived, and they pause before hidden fountains, talking and laughing.  He talks about how his younger cousins like to play hide-and-seek in the bushes, and how he’s had to find them when they got lost.  How he likes to study about different plants from around the world, and then try to import them and cultivate them in these gardens.  But how his favorites are the Uzushio natives.  He brings them to a small pool surrounded by blooming trees, the fragrance heavy in the air.  The music doesn’t penetrate the secluded area, but they don’t notice the quiet as he tells her the related Uzushio folklore for the blossoms.  Her expressions of wonder and curious questions keep him going.  He doesn’t know how much time passes.

“These gardens are so beautiful.  I’ve never seen any of these flowers before,” she comments as they rest on a bench.

“You’re not from around here,” he notes aloud, a little shy.  Her different speech pattern makes her seem that much more interesting to him.  “...Where are you from?” he asks, when she doesn’t answer his comment.

“Ah...I’m...from…” she searches for a lie.  She realizes they’re sitting somewhat closely.  The last time she was in his proximity was when she was his maid…

She is a maid.  

What has she been doing this whole time?  How could she so thoughtlessly keep all of his attention the entire night?  Her eyes turn down, ashamed.  “I’m from...Bath…”

His brows furrow.  “Bath?”  He’s never heard of such a place.  A strange name.

She nods, unable to make eye contact.

He pauses.  “Where are you staying?  So that I might...call on you?” he asks, nervously.  Making his intentions toward her known.

“Ah…”  She blushes.  She bites her lips.  Her insides twist in frantic joy and fear.

BONG, BONG… The town clock tower chimes loudly, seemingly endlessly.  

She looks up finally, counting the hours.  “Oh my…”  She stands, shocked.  She promised to return to work after a couple of songs.  Instead she disappeared for several hours.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, upset that his question went unanswered.

“I’m sorry, I...I need to go,” she murmurs.  “I’ve been gone for too long.”

“Allow me to escort you...”  He stands, but she’s already walking away.  “Wait, Miss-”  His eyes widen.  He never got her name.  “Wait!”

Instead, her pace picks up.

He watches her run away from him, turning around a hedge, disappearing from sight.  “What?”  After a second of confusion, he gives chase.  She can’t just run away from him like that!  He doesn’t even know what he did.  He never got her name!  “Wait, stop!”

She runs faster.  The heels!  She can’t have him see where she goes!  She needs to get away quickly.  She steps out of her shoes, picks up her laced skirt, and makes her escape around the manicured trees.

He tears his way around the hedges and finds her dancing slippers fallen over on the ground.  His eyes widen at seeing them.  She wanted to get away from him.  Fast.  He picks them up, a pang of hurt striking his chest, and continues running.  Once he gets out of the gardens, he dashes into the ballroom, searching the sea of guests for her dark hair, her silver dress, her white skin.  He doesn’t see her anywhere.  He turns to rush to the front, to the carriages.  The carriages remain unmoving.  She’s not there.  She disappeared.  As if the past three hours had been some kind of fever dream.  But the shoes in his hand tell him otherwise.

He runs his hand through his hair, messing up the carefully combed locks.  “What?!” he vocalizes in frustration.  He’s not slow.  There’s no way she left in such a short amount of time.

“Naruto!  Where have you been this whole time?!”  His mother marches up to him, a scowl on her face.

“Where did she go?!”  He turns to his mother, equally upset.

“Where did who go?”

“The girl!  The...the girl!”  He lifts up her shoes.  “She was just here!  I was talking to her!  The whole night!  She just...she just disappeared!”

His mother stares at the glittering silver heels.  An expensive pair.  “You were talking to a girl?  She disappeared?  Why do you have her slippers?”

The expression on his face is so utterly dumbfounded, she realizes he doesn’t know how to answer any of her questions.

“I don’t know.  We were having such a good time.  And then she just...she just ran away from me!”

“Were you being a gentleman?” she accuses.

“Yes!  I didn’t do anything to her!  Nothing!  I just let her hold my arm while we walked around.  I didn’t...I didn’t do anything!”

His voice sounds too emotional to be a lie.  “...What was her name?  Maybe we can contact her tomorrow.”

He hangs his head.  “I...I didn’t think to get her name.”

Her jaw drops.  Her son can be so thoughtless.  For once, his lack of manners truly backfired on him.  “You didn’t learn anything else about her?”

His hand clenches at the shoes.  What was he doing the whole night?  He had her with him the whole night, and somehow, he didn’t learn a single thing about her.  She was so attentive, so willing to listen to him talk and talk and talk and talk and...it was a stroke to his ego, having such a beautiful lady at his side...oh… “She said she was from Bath.”

“Bath?” his mother repeats.

He nods slowly.  In all of his geography studies, he had never heard of such a place.  “She was foreign.  She had a different accent and speech pattern.  Her eyes were interesting, too…”  Her eyes.  Maybe...maybe that maid would know…  “They were like Bucchi’s!”

She stares at him with a frown.  “The maid?  The maid who doesn’t like you?”

He grimaces.  It’s no secret that the timid maid avoids him like he’s the plague embodied.  “Yeah…But she was nothing like Bucchi!  She was so kind and…” He pauses again, realizing he knows next to nothing about the girl he was talking to just a moment ago.  He huffs.  She was kind and beautiful.  As if just looking at her, dancing by herself in his gardens, put a spell over him.  A young lady any man would want to approach.  He finds it hard to find fault with himself.  “If you met her, you would understand.  I...I wasn’t thinking straight,” he admits, trying to keep a furious blush from rising.

His mother sighs.  “Let’s host another ball tomorrow.  If we’re lucky, she will come again.  We’ll announce it now.”

He nods.  Hopefully she will attend tomorrow.  

In her usual maid’s outfit and coat, she rushes to the kitchens.  She slips in with the rest of the workers and helps with plating the fruits and ice creams.  

But she doesn’t forget the magical night she just spent with the young lord.  She smiles quietly to herself, remembering his closeness, remembering the sound of his bright voice, remembering his smile.  The way he looked at her so kindly.  Not at her body but at her, as if she had words worth saying, as if he was speaking just to hear her respond.  It’s a memory she decides to enjoy for now, before she can regret it.

The following morning, Shizuka finds her before the castle comes alive.  “Someone looks like she had a good night,” she whispers.

Hinata can’t help nodding.  “I had a lot of fun.  Thank you so much, Shizuka.”

“Will you go tonight?”

“...Tonight?”

“You didn’t hear?”

“Hear what?”

“The young lord fell in love!”  

“...What?”

“Well, that’s what everyone is saying.  Our Lady announced last night that they will host another ball tonight.  It was so out of the blue!”

“...Oh?…”  No wonder everyone went to bed last night grumbling about an early start.

“You didn’t hear the rumors?”  

She shakes her head.  She was too wrapped up in her own happiness to really listen to what others were saying.

“Apparently the young lord came bursting into the ballroom, looking for a young lady.  He was carrying her heels and looking everywhere.”

“O-oh!”  Hinata looks away, embarrassed and worried.  She didn’t mean to cause him any distress.

“I heard he was really distraught!”

“...R-really?” she asks weakly.

“Yeah.  She must have been really beautiful…”

Hinata keeps her eyes to the floor.

“Was it you?”

“What?”

“...It was you, wasn’t it!”

“N-no, I never saw him all night…”

“A girl suddenly disappearing without a trace!  It had to have been you!”  Shizuka’s voice heightens.

“Shhh!”  

“It was you,” Shizuka whispers.  

“We just talked a little.  He didn’t recognize me, but then he started asking me questions, so...I...might have...ran away…”

“You ran away from him?” Shizuka asks in quiet disbelief.

She nods.  It wasn’t the best decision, now that she thinks about it.  She should have just lied.  But she was never good at thinking on her feet.  “Well, he’ll never see her again, so there’s no use talking about that now,” Hinata concludes, talking about herself like it was another person.

“Ohh noo, Bucchi, you’re not getting out of this so easily.  You told me you had ‘a lot of fun.’”

Hinata sighs.  “That was yesterday, Shizuka.  For me...I’d like the past to stay in the past.  This-”  Hinata holds up her plain skirts and gestures at her coat.  “This is my life now.  Last night was just a…”  She shrugs.  “I-I just did it because you and Kurenai were insisting.”

Shizuka smirks.  “Well...I’m insisting.”

Hinata shakes her head.  “No, Shizuka, no.  If I got caught, we don’t know what could happen.  And Naruto-”

“Hmm??  Where’s the honorific, Bucchi?”

She reddens like a ripe tomato.  “Th-that, I-I meant Master Naru-”

“If you don’t go tonight, I’ll tell Kurenai all about this, and I’ll get her to assign you to cleaning the chamber pots for a week, no, a month, no-”

Hinata’s jaw drops.  “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would, my dearest.  This is more excitement than I’ve ever seen in my entire time here, and you are not going to leave our darling young lord heartbroken.  Knowing him, I bet he thinks he wronged you for you to take flight like that. You are going to go back there tonight, find him, and sweep him off his feet before he knows what hit him.”

Hinata looks at Shizuka with an increasingly gaping expression.  “Sh-shizuka, it’s not like that!  It wasn’t like that!  Yesterday-, last night-, we were just talking!”

“You.  You were ‘just talking’ with Master Naruto?”  

Hinata frowns at that.  Caught.  Everyone knows that she avoids him like he’s a pestilence, to the point that Kurenai had stopped assigning her jobs that took her near him.  But none of them would understand how she felt!  She spoke to him the first time while he was in his bathrobes.  It was too much for her to handle.  She couldn’t even look at him without feeling like she had overstepped some unspoken boundaries.  She could get over losing her name and her titles, but she couldn’t just forget her modest upbringing.  The only thing that kept her from turning away from him last night was the fact that she wasn’t supposed to be “Bucchi,” but some young lady that had never met him before.  “L-let’s stop talking about this now.  We need to report for duty.”

“You’re still going tonight.”

She doesn’t reply to that, but in her heart, she knows that Shizuka is right.

Though she mentally prepared herself to see him again that night, she was not at all prepared to see him that afternoon.  

Shion comes up to her, voice hostile.  “Master Naruto wishes to speak to you.”

Her eyes widen.

Shion turns around abruptly, not looking back to see if she’s following.  “Hurry, we don’t want to keep the young lord waiting.”

Her heart races, palpitating like it’s on its last legs.  There’s no way that he knows.  There’s just no way that he figured out it was her.  He never gave an inkling of recognition besides his comment on her eyes.  “Sh-shion,” she tries.  “Do you...do you know what he wants?”

The blonde maid sighs.  “He’s been pining away in the library all day.  Looking for a place called ‘Bath.’  That young lady he met yesterday claimed to be from there.  Kimiko and I have been helping him search for maps and any geographical records since this morning.”

Hinata ducks her head in terrible guilt.  

“I know you don’t like the young lord, but you need to help him out if you know anything about this.  He only finally gave up looking five minutes ago, and there’s less than an hour until guests start arriving.”  Shion pushes open the door to his bedchamber.

He’s sitting at his dresser, staring at her silver shoes.    

She’s never felt guilt like this before.  Not even when she fled from home.  At least back then she had a good reason.  

But for yesterday’s frivolous behavior?  

It was entirely selfish.

He turns his head so fast, it looks like he almost got whiplash.

She ducks her head to the floor, afraid.

“Bucchi,” he calls out.

The girl raises her head a bit, her pale eyes peeking through her hair before flashing away once more.

They really are the same.  Hope fills him.  If in the case the young lady doesn’t come back tonight, maybe this maid can help him.  He gets straight to the point.  “Do you know of a place called Bath?”

She tries to keep from squirming.  The lie has come back to bite her.  She shakes her head at the floor.  “I-I apologize, Master Naruto.  I have never heard of such a place,” she says as quietly as she can while still being heard.  What if he recognizes her voice?

He dramatically sinks in on himself, slouching on his stool, looking absolutely exhausted.  He sighs loudly, defeated.  “Am I going crazy?” he wonders aloud.

“Young Master, the dancing slippers are right there.  We all believe you,” Kimiko states, ever composed.

“Yeah, but, did I...did I hear her wrong?  Maybe she was trying to say something else or…”  He shakes his head.  “It feels like a dream,” he mutters.  “Yesterday feels like an elaborate dream.”

Hinata bites her lips, hearing his doubts.  She never imagined she would have this effect on him.  He liked her more than she could have ever imagined.  “Maybe-” her voice raises.

Their attention darts to her.

She stares at the floor, gathering confidence.  “Maybe she was...trying to hint at something else, sir…a special place...or someplace that held meaning to her...”

He leans forward, concentration revived.  “You’re suggesting she meant it like a riddle?”

She shrugs, still determinedly staring at the floor.  It wasn’t meant to be a “riddle” for him to figure out.  She had said it in a moment of shame, of disappointment.  “I-I wouldn’t know, sir.”

“Master Naruto, I truly hate to interrupt your search, but we must prepare you for the ball,” Kimiko says.  “If the young lady returns tonight, don’t you want to look your best for her?”

He straightens immediately.  “How much time do we have?”

“Very little time, I’m afraid, Master Naruto.  May I request for Bucchi’s help with your dressing?”  

He nods his permission.  “I hope she comes tonight.”

“Yes, for your sake, we all hope she does, too, Young Master.”  Kimiko turns to Shion and Bucchi.  “Shion, prepare his tunic.  Bucchi, stand ready with his comb.”

Naruto chuckles.  “Thank you to all of you for trying to help me with her.  I...I don’t know what it is.  It’s just that...after yesterday...it all feels so incomplete.”

“Incomplete, sir?” Shion asks as she readies his tunic.

“Yeah, like, I told her everything about my life, and I found out so little about her.  Not even her name!  It feels so wrong.  I can’t forgive myself.  I can’t just...I can’t just let it go, you know?  A real gentleman doesn’t just talk forever about himself.”

“I’m sure you were a fine gentleman, Master Naruto,” Shion reassures.  “You always are.”

He laughs.  “Thanks, Shion, even though I know you’re just saying that.”  He stands as Kimiko unbuttons his casual shirt.

Hinata makes sure to keep her eyes trained firmly on the floor.  She would die if she saw him without clothes...he would probably die, too, if he knew the young lady of his worries was right there beside him as he undressed.

He sighs.  “Can you believe she ran away from me?”

“We will say it as many times as you need us to, Master Naruto, but we’re certain that there must have been a pressing reason for her to do that,” Kimiko states.

He chuckles darkly once more.  “She took off her shoes.  She ran from me barefoot.”

The proof is right there before all of them.  Kimiko and Shion glance at the sparkling silver pair.

“P-perhaps...” she starts quietly.

“Yes, Bucchi?” he invites.

“Perhaps, M-Master Naruto, it’s related to...when you asked her...where she’s from?” she softly says.  She’s not sure any of them heard her.  She was talking to the floor.

Naruto hums in thought.  “...She doesn’t want me to know where she’s from.  Or where she’s staying…”  He sighs.  “Why not?” he asks aloud, and his voice comes out somewhat pained.

“Bucchi, he’s ready,” Kimiko directs.

She hesitantly steps up to his seated form, now clothed as Kimiko and Shion carefully pin his decorations and cape into place without poking him.  She draws the comb through his mussed, golden locks, the short strands straightening with each pass.  She holds her breath through the entire ordeal.  She’s never done anything so intimate with a man before. Thankfully, Naruto has his eyes closed, obviously deep in thought.

His eyes suddenly pop open.

It scares her so badly, she nearly drops the comb.  “Ah,” she breathes out in shock.

His eyes turn upward.  “Sorry, Bucchi, did I scare you?”  A strange sense of deja-vu passes over him.

“N-no, I apologize, Master Naruto.”

He breathes out deeply, his fingers drumming on his knees.  “I’m so nervous,” he laughs.  “I really hope she comes tonight.  That way I know yesterday wasn’t just a figment of my imagination.”

She stays silent for the rest of the time, only bowing when she’s dismissed.  Her mind is crowded with opposing feelings.  Guilt, anticipation; shame, excitement.  She doesn’t know what to do with herself.  Her mind is telling her that she shouldn’t carry on like this.  She’s just a maid now.  A maid in a foreign country without any family background or land to recommend her.  Just that morning she had been mopping their ballroom floor.

Her heart beats a different tune.  

But fortunately or unfortunately for her, it’s not up to her to decide.

Shizuka pushes her to her room, pulls out the gold dress, and commands her to put it on.  “Just because I know you’re secretly above me in social class doesn’t mean I can’t get you to clean chamber pots for the rest of the year.”

It’s a pretty effective threat.  

And before she knows it, she’s dressed in the gown that she last saw Toneri in, her hair pulled up and away from her face, and Kurenai’s light makeup dusted on her eyes, cheeks, and lips.

Shizuka shakes her head in disbelief, blinking rapidly.  “Really, Bucchi, I just can’t believe my eyes.  You look like an entirely different person without that coat on.  You have such a nice figure and such nice skin.  Any man would want to marry you.  I really have no idea what could have chased you away from home...”

Hinata grimaces.  “Shizuka…”

She gapes at Hinata.  “I’m sorry!  I spoke out of line.”

Hinata shakes her head.  “...I’ll tell you one day...this gown is actually a part of that story…”  She sighs.  “With Master Naruto, it’s not what you think...I’ll tell him tonight that I can’t be with him, so…”

Shizuka nods in understanding.  “At least try to enjoy yourself a little?  Who knows if you’ll ever have a chance to wear gowns like this ever again.”

I never will.  “Thank you, Shizuka,” she whispers.  

The two part ways.  

Hinata sneaks around the back again.  

Dancing music fills the air in the gardens.  

She sticks to the shadows, quietly ascending the steps of the terrace to the side doors.  The closer she gets, the faster the blood seems to pump through her veins.

She enters the ballroom, slipping into the crowd.

Older gentlemen and ladies stand around, talking and making connections.  Younger couples swirl in the center of the ballroom to the music.

She tries not to feel self-conscious.  

It’s difficult when she sees eyes turning toward her, the crowd noticing her gleaming, silky, rose-adorned gown.  

She stands taller, resisting the urge to shrink into herself.  She scans the twirling couples, wondering if the young master is already on the floor with someone.

“You came.”  The familiar, masculine voice sounds breathless.

Her head jerks to her left, to see him, standing a few paces from her.  She doesn’t know what expression to give.  So she blushes.

He draws closer to her.  Slowly.  Worried that she’ll dart away if he gets too close.  “You’re here,” he reiterates, his eyes wide, trying to take in everything about her without looking like he’s ogling her.  

In the light of the many chandeliers, she’s more beautiful than he remembered.  The dark strands of her loose bun teasing at her graceful neck, leading down to fair shoulders, and even fairer...he draws his eyes up to meet her light eyes.  The gold gown only serves to make her white skin glow with a warmth she didn’t have yesterday.  Yesterday, in the garden, an ethereal, untouchable, silver dream.  Now, gold--rich, vibrant gold; a winner’s gold.  The color taunts him.  It’s an awful, wrong, disgusting feeling, to want to run his hands over her, to grasp her tightly, a trophy for his own.  

She turns to face him fully, steadying her nerves.  “Good evening,” she greets much more calmly than she feels on the inside.  She’s almost glad that she got to see him ahead of time, already dressed with accents of blue, setting off his even bluer eyes.  Her heart only slightly more prepared for the weak-kneed feeling his unwavering gaze gives her.

He comes up a little too close.  But he’s breathing too quickly to care, a madness threatening to consume him that he needs to swallow back, and he wonders if this feeling, this sickness, is a part of her secret, her mystery.  It’s a warning she tried to teach him yesterday, but here she is, in his household, again.  All in gold.  He has no control over his actions because before he realizes it, he’s taken her golden, gloved hand, placed it at his lips, and he’s asking a question that would keep her at his side, keep her in his arms for the rest of the night.  “May I have this dance?”

[cordonianchoicesqueen]

Rewritten: The Royal Romance: The King’s Announcement (Part 16)

A/N: Had to take a little break from writing over the festive season but I’m so happy to be back and writing!

Summary: It’s the day of the Royal Regatta and King Constantine has a surprise announcement for the gathered crowds.

Choices Chapter: Book One, Chapter Nine

Disclaimer: Characters and main storyline from Pixelberry’s Choices.

Word Count: 2800+

Warnings: none

Link to Full Series: Rewritten

Tags: @krsnlove @cora-nova

The King’s Announcement

A few days later, we left the snowy climate of Olivia’s Chateaux behind us and found ourselves back, comfortably, in the warmer climate of the capital. Although the trip had been filled with a few memorable moments, I was glad to have left and returned to what was now “my” room at the Royal Palace. Olivia no longer had home court advantage and that, hopefully, meant that Liam would have more time for me. I had barely seen him since our late night, hot tub rendezvous. Early one morning, following breakfast Maxwell and Bertrand walked me back to my room, cramming my head full of as much information to do with the Royal Regatta as possible. Maxwell was most excited for the beach party (which Bertrand quickly corrected to being a dignified beach soiree) that took place after and, although, seeming quite distracted by more difficulties with the Beaumont finances, Bertrand listed off everything I needed to know about the morning of sailboat races. I was reminded that I wasn’t just here for me or Liam but to help the Beaumont family. My main aim was to support my sponsoring family. I felt a duty to them, a loyalty that was building fiercely within. Bertrand nodded at me, stiffly, “Now, I apologise for being distracted. You have my full attention. So as you will not only will you be participating in the first race-“ Bertrand started. “Wait! I’m going to be what now?” I said, confused. “But the Regatta is open to the public so the press will be there to take photos and do interviews,” Bertrand continued, ignoring me. “Can we, please, go back to that part where I’m racing?” my heart started beating a mile a minute. “Anytime a social season involves picking a royal bride, the first race of the Regatta is traditionally one that the suitors participate in. It’s mostly for show really,” Bertrand shrugged. “Great. No pressure to win then,” I said, trying to let the stress out of my body, knowing full well my competitive spirit would get the better of me later anyway. “Oh, there is pressure. The Regatta is one King Constantine’s favourite events. He bestows an honour upon the woman who wins the ceremonial race, so it’s an opportunity to get in his good graces,” Bertrand explained. I sighed, rubbing my eyes. The women who participated in this competition were far too skilled. I felt outnumbered and unprepared.

A short time later, I found myself with Bertrand and Maxwell down at the docks watching beautiful sailboats with colourful sails flapping in the wind dance circles around one another in the harbour. Lights flashed as press flocked all over the marina taking pictures of the Prince’s suitor’s and the royal family attending the event. “This is great!” Maxwell exclaimed. “The weather’s perfect.” For a moment, I closed my eyes and, yet again, appreciated where I was. I felt the salty air on my face and licked the edges of my lips. The sun shone down, and I basked in it, warming me but not in an overbearing way. Maxwell was right, this moment was great and I wanted to stay in it forever as I heard laughter and cheers. I smiled at Maxwell, taking his arm and squeezing it, “Yeah… sun’s out, fun’s out! When did you say this beach party starts?” “All right, that’s enough of that, you two,” Bertrand rolled his eyes, wearing far too many layers for the temperature in the name of looking smart. “Keep your wits about you. Lady Riley, you must always remember that in a crowded venue like this … a photo can be taken at any time! Refrain from silly behaviour. Also, if the press ask… imply a close relationship with Prince Liam but not too close.” “Got it,” I gave him a dignified look and fixed my posture. Through the throng of attendees, I managed to spot Prince Liam interacting with the crowd. The man he was talking to burst out laughing and I couldn’t help but smile. Liam had a way of making everyone just that little bit happier and it was infectious. He looked up and saw me, a shy smile appeared on his face. He gave me a discrete wave and I giggled. We made our way towards each other as if everyone else in the crowd didn’t matter. “Our yacht will be at gate E,” Bertrand said, dragging Maxwell in the other direction. Liam and I finally met, standing as close as was acceptable to our surroundings. He was more dressed down than usual with a cute lilac shirt and burgundy sweater that made him look ready for a sailing trip or for a cuddle in the library. I’d happily do either. “Lady Riley… Fancy seeing you here,” Liam said, his eyes glittering. “It must be a strange coincidence we keep showing up at the same events…” I giggled, “Fate must be on our side. Hopefully, it’ll favour me during my race today.” “Ah yes, the ceremonial race. You know it’s an honour to be a part of the Regatta tradition,” he said, rather unenthusiastically.   I raised an eyebrow, “the tradition of rich people having private boats?” Liam shook his head, “The Regatta is more symbolic than that. Since Cordonia isn’t very big, we don’t have many glorious battles as part of our identity, or at least we haven’t for several hundred years. Yet, we do have a defining moment. When a storm ravaged our neighbours across the sea, Cordonians responded by manning every available boat to bring humanitarian supplies to the devastated areas. It was one of our finest hours. The Regatta symbolises the generosity of the Cordonians and the strong bonds we have forged with our neighbours.” “You are such a heartthrob aren’t you,” I teased, making him blush. “That’s very noble and I’m honoured to participate.” I gave him a small curtsy. My eyes never left his. “Now, tell me the truth… are you enjoying yourself?” “It’s a beautiful day, the staff has been well-prepared and we’re ready to celebrate our fine seafaring tradition. My father seems in high spirits. He always loves this event.” “That’s all good,” I said, slowly. “But you didn’t answer my question and you’re barely smiling. What’s wrong?” “Well,” Liam said, a little taken aback and uneasy by my ability to read him. “My father loves the Regatta so much, I’ve never had the heart to tell him that I hate sailing.” Liam was so used to making everyone happy, it must have sat quite heavily on him to know that he was secretly disappointing his father. Liam certainly looked up to the King and wanted to shape his rule in his image. “Boats are overrated. I’ve heard that the two happiest day for boat owners are the day that they buy the boat and the day they sell it,” I whispered, nudging him playfully. “Thankfully, I don’t have to maintain the boats,” he finally cracked a wide smile. “I actually used to enjoy sailing but one experience soured it for me.” “What’s the story there?” I placed a caring hand on his arm. “Let’s say I once felt the call of freedom on the sea,” Liam paused hoping I wouldn’t make him tell his tale but once he saw the determination in my eyes he continued anyway. “When Drake and I were young boys, we snuck out with one of the royal sloops. The weather had been sunny but it turned grey and windy when we reached a few kilometres out. We probably could’ve managed if we’d been more experience, but the choppy waters capsized our boat. We had to swim back. I’m not sure which was worse… the cold or the taste of the saltwater… Even worse, we had to push the boat all the way back to the shore so we wouldn’t get in trouble…” “Wow, that must have been awful,” I said, my brow knitted in concern. “It was a pretty miserable experience, though I can laugh about it now. We were cold, wet and exhausted… but we survived,” Liam said, not smiling. “Anyway, I’ve never told anyone that story. No one ever found out what we did… although my interest in sailing did drop quite a bit after that.” As I was about to respond, a loud trumpet broke through the conversations across the marina. “Oh, it’s time for my father’s opening remarks,” Liam whispered to me, gesturing where I should be looking. I followed his gaze to see King Constantine, standing tall, on an elevated platform above the crowd. He was dressed in full regal attire with a crown atop his head. Queen Regina stood a few paces behind him, dignified with perfect posture. The King raised his arms, an adoring smile on his face. “Ladies and gentlemen of Cordonia,” he said, commandingly, “I welcome you all! Today is a momentous day. As you know, I have a soft spot for the Royal Regatta, and it remains one of my favourite events of the social season. Because this event has always held historical significance and personal importance, I have chosen today to make my announcement…” King Constantine paused, dramatically. The press flashed their cameras and whispers broke out across the marina. I felt Liam go rigid at my side. “That at the end of this social season,” the King continued, a glimmer in his eye similar to Liam, “I’ll be stepping down as your reigning monarch… and in a few weeks’ time Prince Liam will be your new King!” The entire crowd burst into a mixture of gasps, applause and whispers. I looked up at Liam and noted his jaw hung loose, shock rendering him mute and unable to move. There had never been any mention, throughout the social season, that Liam was meant to become King anytime soon. Surely there was usually an adjustment period for the woman he chose as his bride before she became queen? As people turned to stare at Liam, I gave him a quick nudge to knock him out of it. Reporters started attempting to yell questions towards the King over the rabble but he merely raised his hand. “I expect you all have questions. I promise you in due time that I’ll release an official statement. For today, allow an old man time to enjoy the festivities. Let the Regatta begin!” As the King finished his speech, Liam grabbed my hand and led me away from the crowd towards an empty area of the docks before anyone could approach him. He looked panicked and started pacing up and down. I was, honestly, concerned he might be sick. I couldn’t imagine being in his shoes and, frankly, I didn’t really know what was 100% going on. “Liam,” I said, carefully, “are you okay?” “Yeah… I’m fine,” he breathed. “But it’s… a shock, let’s say. I always knew my father would retire… Just not so soon. To realise that I’m going to become King in a matter of weeks… well. That’s a lot.” He ran a shaking hand through his hair. I took it and held it in mine, caressing his palms and fingers, until he was breathing regularly again and had stopped shaking. “Not many guys have to ascend to the throne and choose a wife all at once,” I said. “It means that my future bride will be thrown directly into the role of queen,” he muttered. “It seems like this really caught you off-guard,” I said, concerned, having never seen him so unhinged. “My father usually keeps my counsel on all matters. I wonder why he didn’t discuss this with me… But I’ll talk to him later… For now, he’s right. We should just try to enjoy today,” Liam rolled his neck and stretched, trying to push off the stress. I went to cup his face. “Liam-“ I started. I stopped abruptly, noticing a few members of the press approaching. I quickly let go of his hand and took two steps away, even though it literally hurt to put distance between us when he was obviously struggling. Liam put on his best fake smile and said, through gritted teeth, “we should answer a couple questions to satisfy them. Time to put our best smiles on…” “No can do,” I whispered back. “I only reserve my best smiles for you…” Liam finally let out a laugh that sounded like music, “at least give them half your best.” As the reporters reached us, one immediately began, “Your Highness… A few questions please?” “Of course,” Liam bowed his head in respect. “The King’s announcement was quite a surprise! What do you think about it? When did you find out?” the ring of reporters pushed microphones towards Liam. “As much as I’d love to answer, my father has made it clear he’ll issue a statement later. For now, I can’t comment,” Liam responded politely. “If you can’t talk about the announcement, then we’ll have to talk about something else… You’re looking awfully friendly over here with the mystery woman,” a reporter waggled his eyebrows. “Is that what they’re calling Lady Riley now,” Liam laughed, gazing at me for just a moment. “The public does find her an enigma. But let’s cut to the heart of the real mystery… what’s the connection between you two? After all, the social season’s more than half over… And with the King’s announcement, you’re basically choosing the future queen in a matter of weeks…” another reporter butted in. “I was aware my future bride would be queen. The immediacy of my becoming king doesn’t change much at this time,” Liam said. Several members of the press started taking pictures of us, causing white spots on my eyes. I suddenly realised that I had been standing behind Liam for quite a while without speaking and that some of the press hadn’t taken their eyes off me since arriving. I stepped up next to Liam. If I was going to be a Queen in a few week’s time, I needed to prove that I could take control. “You’d like to know about my and Liam’s relationship?” I smiled my most dignified smile I could muster. “I care for him, very much, but we are still getting to know one another.” Liam grinned at me, a thank you written in his eyes. I made a mental note to thank Bertrand for all his notes! “I couldn’t have put it better myself, actually,” Liam smiled widely at the reporters, which only set off more cameras. “Do you feel the same way about Lady Riley, Your Highness?” a reporter from the back yelled. “Yes, I care for her. But as she said, we’re still learning about one another,” he responded. “Lady Riley,” the fashion reporter De Luca raised a delicate arm, “surely you’re aware of the historical significance of the Royal Regatta… Do you have anything to say on this momentous day?” I understood that these reporters were trying to prove that I was an outsider, not one of them… someone who didn’t know their country or their history. They were right about all of that on paper. But I had always been a fast learner and was spending a huge amount of my spare time in the Royal Palace library studying with Maxwell, Bertrand and Hana. I may not have been from there but I needed to prove I cared. “It is such a wonderful display of Cordonia’s generosity. The people’s effort to give humanitarian aid and relief is truly inspiring and I believe it represents Cordonia’s interconnectedness with its neighbours,” I said, clearly and without hesitation. Fine! I hadn’t learnt that last bit in the library… it was basically copying Liam’s homework but I made enough reporters nod strongly in agreement for the ends to justify the means. “Well put,” Liam smiled, well aware of my cheating. “I agree,” De Luca smiled, sedated. Before any more questions could be asked, Liam stepped between me and the press. “As wonderful as it has been to connect with you all, the races are about to start, and Lady Riley’s due at the starting line…” Liam said, apologetically. “One last thing! Can we get an official photo of you two, together?” one eager reporter asked. Liam shrugged, smiling back at me for my consent, which I gave, happily. The reporters raised their cameras in tandem and focused on us. Liam placed his arm around the small of my back and looked down at me. Every time I caught his gaze, I felt myself fall deeper for him. I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t like not knowing when the next time I’d see him would be. Before I knew what I was doing, I stood on the tips of my toes and gave Liam, a gentle, soft kiss on his cheek as the reporters’ flashes went off. “Perfect!” said one of the press. I’d like to think so, I thought to myself as Liam blushed and gave me a small squeeze.