CHAPTER 15
Sakura
Sakura took a deep breath, fighting to maintain her control. Prince Cedric? A quest for marriage?
True love?
And Mother couldn’t simply present her wild ideas to Sakura; she had to air them in front of the weapon-smith.
“You think that he’s my—” Her eyes darted around, but the guards were still keeping their distance. “Mother, I’ve known Keenan for a week. We do not like each other, and he looks nothing like Prince Cedric!”
“We haven’t seen him in four years,” Mother calmly replied, folding her hands in front of her waist. “Much can change between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.”
“The Amitian royals all have hazel eyes and auburn hair,” Sakura said flatly. “Hair can be dyed, but Keenan’s eyes are blue! How do you explain that?”
Curving her lips in a placid smile, the queen wrapped an arm around Sakura’s shoulders and tugged her toward the exit. “Perhaps we should discuss this elsewhere, Sakura dear,” she said between her teeth.
Sakura’s mind whirled as she let her mother lead her down the corridor. The Prince Cedric she remembered was built like a pen – tall and hopelessly thin. He could have bulked out since then, but she was sure the young prince had already been taller then than the weapon-smith was now.
And his eyes. Hazel eyes didn’t turn blue. If she’d needed proof that something was wrong with her mother, this had to be it.
Even before the queen told a weapon-smith that he was Sakura’s true love.
“He’s a blacksmith,” she tried again. Maybe enough logic could break Mother free of whatever enchantment held her in thrall. “I saw him exploring around the castle forge, and he wanted to show me some of his techniques. And he’s been reading about the subject in the library.”
“And how many blacksmiths can read?” Mother smiled as if this were a point in her favor. “Have you actually seen him forging a weapon?”
Sighing, Sakura admitted, “No. But he’s hurt, and he’s supposed to be resting still.”
“Yet he sparred this afternoon.”
“Because you insisted he do so!”
Mother’s lips curved further. “I knew you were fond of him. It warms my heart to hear you express such concern for his welfare.”
How was she supposed to reason with someone so determined to believe a lie?
They reached the door of Mother’s sitting room. “He said he made his sword himself. I have no reason to disbelieve him.”
“Blacksmiths may fashion swords like that, but they don’t carry them,” Mother argued. Her smile grew tight. “And who but a prince of Amitié would wear a sword with a gryphon?”
“Anyone who wants to!” The absurdity of their disagreement cracked her facade, causing her frustration to leak into her voice and face. “It may be the symbol of Amitié, but there is no law preventing its use by non-royals or members of other kingdoms.”
“Sakura.” Closing the door behind them, Mother lifted her eyebrows, the strangely indulgent expression sliding off her face as soon as they were alone. “Do you or do you not wish to be queen someday?”
Startled by the shift in topic, Sakura paused, closing her mouth on her next point. “Of course I do. It is why I have spent the last three years sequestered away from soldiers.”
And from everyone else, despite the need to marry someone appropriate. But she hadn’t expressed that complaint in two years.
“Then you should stop fighting me.” Gliding away, Mother settled into her favorite armchair. “Our young guest is precisely what we need to secure the throne for you, prophecy or no prophecy.”
Sakura stared at her. “You cannot simply declare Keenan to be a foreign prince, marry me to him, and make me crown princess. The backlash when someone proves the lie would be even worse than the prophecy!”
Mother tsked quietly. “You are focused on the wrong thing. The quest, Sakura dear. That is the key.”
“Mother, completing a quest won’t change anything.”
“It will change everything,” the queen replied fervently. Her eyes glowed with enthusiasm. “And that is why you must persuade him that you are in love with him.”
“That I am—” Sakura had never struggled to complete a sentence so often as she had since Keenan’s arrival. “I fail to follow your logic. The quest can neither prove him to be nor make him a prince or even a noble. And unless I marry a prince or a noble, I cannot inherit the Ryunic throne.”
A devilish grin spread across the queen’s face. “So say the current laws. But as I recently reminded you, Sakura dear, laws can change.”
Sakura paused. “But that takes time, and for this particular law, a miracle,” she finally said. “If Father were willing, he would have begun the process three years ago. Nothing a Daric blacksmith does can change that.”
“Weapon-smith,” Mother corrected with a strange gleam in her eyes.
“How is that relevant?”
Pushing back to her feet, the queen crossed to Sakura and guided her toward a chair. “It isn’t. But his true love should use the correct term, no?”
“Mother, I am not—”
“I am not asking you to actually marry him.” A hint of impatience slipped through Mother’s mask. “I am simply asking you to play a part.”
Sakura frowned. “I do not understand the purpose.”
Queen Arisa sighed. “The quest is dangerous, but it will give us the ability to enact any change we wish. If Keenan loves you, he will be sure to complete it. Especially if he thinks that you care for him in return.”
“No one will believe that I am in love with a simple weapon-smith.”
“The only one who needs to believe it is Keenan,” the queen snapped.
Pressing her lips together, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.
“I knew you would be difficult,” she muttered.
Louder, she added, “If we insist that Keenan is a prince in disguise, the servants will believe it. And then he will have no reason to doubt.”
Sakura pressed her hands to her waist, turning away from the chair in front of her. Mother wanted her to lie? To fawn over a man undeserving of her affections so that he would endanger his life for her and her throne?
His blue eyes danced in front of her mind. Honest. Open. Undeserving of such treatment.
But if she viewed the situation logically, one commoner’s broken heart was insignificant when contrasted with the long-term benefit for her kingdom. Sparing Hari from the throne was a kindness to both him and Ryuni.
“With your fox helping, I’m surprised the guards haven’t already found that girl he lost.” The queen relayed the information as if it was a report on the condition of the gardens. “But he’ll leave as soon as they do. You should convince him to accept the quest before we lose our chance.”
Sakura didn’t answer. It made sense, in a coldly logical sort of way.
She liked logic. She used it as often as she could in her decision-making.
But it seemed wrong to use it like this. To excuse deceit. To make it acceptable to hurt someone who wasn’t her enemy.
She pictured the queen’s crown in her father’s study, the one that her mother wore for formal occasions.
For seventeen years, it had been destined to be Sakura’s.
But now, it would belong to Hari’s wife when their father could no longer rule…
unless Sakura escaped either her prophecy or its consequences.
She bit her lip. A pair of honest blue eyes or her birthright?