CHAPTER 29
Sakura
It was quite the conundrum. To reciprocate, or not to reciprocate?
Watching Keenan joke with Kasumi the evening after the waterfall had stirred something unpleasant in Sakura’s middle.
She shouldn’t have cared. But when he responded to one of the maid’s requests with a playful “Yes, ma’am,” the burning in her chest had demanded she ignore him since she couldn’t possibly confront him.
She’d repented of her petty jealousy every time he pulled his hands away as if burned or refused to look at her, but she couldn’t admit error to a weapon-smith. Aside from it widening the irreparable crack in her image, royalty didn’t apologize. Not to anyone who wasn’t their equal or better.
But something had shifted after she succumbed to her exhaustion.
Even though she was attempting to portray the same perfect, royal front as always, Keenan had had a smile for her every morning the last few days.
He teased lightly as they walked and let his hands and gaze linger after lifting her down from Aya’s saddle.
And no matter how hard she tried to cling to her need for perfection and Mother’s teachings about the difference between royalty and commoners, it wouldn’t take.
She hadn’t fought so hard to maintain her cool mask in three years.
They’d reached the plains two days ago. Fields stretched out from either side of the road, with the occasional homestead or stand of trees interrupting the rows of tiny plants.
As per their habit, Sakura rode at the front with Keenan on her left, while Kasumi followed next to Kagemori and Oliver brought up the rear.
“A turtle?” Kagemori repeated, today’s wooden puzzle forgotten in his hands as he crept closer to Keenan. “He wanted a sword because he was scared of a turtle?”
Keenan’s grin was as broad as the wheel used to wind a portcullis chain.
“A tortoise, but yes. He’d bought it off a sailor at the docks on our eastern coast. But he claimed that as soon as he brought it home, it turned on him.
He asked me to bring the sword by his house as soon as I finished, since he wanted the means to defend himself as soon as possible. ”
“But I thought you said you always have a few swords on display that just need sharpening,” Kagemori interjected.
“We do,” Keenan replied. “But apparently those weren’t good enough to fend off the nefarious creature he had brought into his home, so he ordered a custom one.”
A smile tugged at Sakura’s lips at the merriment in his voice, but she suppressed it.
“Master Elias let me bump it up on the list because the man looked so distraught. I even stayed late at the smithy to finish it sooner; Miss Beatrice brought me supper so I could eat while I worked. As soon as it was ready, I rushed it to his address. A harried butler opened the door, and when I looked around him, I saw the monster.”
Keenan brought his arms up, hands wide, and paused before choking on a burst of laughter as he pulled them in to a mere foot apart.
“A toddler could have crossed that hallway more quickly! But when the master of the house hurried out of his study to accept the sword, he gave it a berth so wide you’d have thought it was a lion. ”
He laughed heartily, one hand pressed to his stomach as he relived the scene. And as she imagined it for herself, Sakura couldn’t help the small hiccup of laughter that escaped. What a sight that must have been!
Keenan’s face swung up to her. “A laugh, Princess? I feel highly complimented.”
She quickly schooled her expression. “Your ears must be as mistaken as your eyes, if you can turn nothing into a laugh just as you turn a fearsome beast into a harmless pet,” she replied primly.
“I am as certain that your client was appropriately terrified of that animal as I am that I did not laugh.”
“Anything you say, ma’am,” Keenan answered, his blue eyes dancing. “The tortoise was as big as a house, and you were as quiet as a mouse.”
“Quite so,” she said with a little nod. “And I’m not a ma’am, weapon-smith.”
“Of course not, ma’am. I could never be confused about that.”
She buried her grin. It wasn’t seemly to openly enjoy a conversation that bordered on flirting.
“It’s your turn, Princess,” Keenan said, bopping a knuckle against her boot. “Tell us a story about life as a poor, pampered princess.”
The desire to laugh vanished. She could think of few things that her non-titled audience would appreciate.
At least, that she was willing to share.
She had her share of moments they might find amusing, but she hid those even from her friends among the nobility.
She certainly couldn’t air them in front of the current crowd.
Or could she? Kasumi likely knew or suspected half of them anyway; Oliver never spoke when he didn’t have to; and she didn’t think Keenan would spread the tale in Daraigh if she asked him not to.
Kagemori was a wild card. He’d seemed terrified of her when she first joined their company, but the longer she traveled with him, the less in awe he seemed of her status.
“We won’t laugh, Princess,” Keenan promised, grinning up at her. “Or if we do, we’ll be laughing with you, not at you.”
“For you to laugh with me presupposes that I’m laughing.”
He opened his mouth, but then his forehead furrowed with that uncertain look he still sometimes got when she made her comments. After a moment, he shook his head and smiled. “I suppose that’s a risk we’ll both have to take.”
“And how is it a risk for you?” she countered with a raised eyebrow. “What harm do you suffer if I fail to laugh?”
He looked up at the sky, considering his answer. “You’ll retreat back into your cold shell like my client’s tortoise, and I’ll have to deal with your indifferent act.”
Straightening her spine, Sakura stared straight ahead and painted on her haughtiest mask. “For it to be a penalty, must it not vary from the current state of affairs?”
A startled snort burst from his nose before he laughed as heartily and helplessly as he had at the end of his story.
Unable to resist his infectious mirth, a smile stole across her face, stretching so far it almost revealed her teeth.
“Very well then,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice lofty.
“Since you are unafraid of the consequences, I shall indulge you with a tale.
Once upon a time, a princess of breathtaking beauty was born.
Her parents took great care in shaping her to be a prosperous queen one day, sanding away the rough edges and polishing the surface until she shone like the finest glass.
“One day, the queen discovered a flaw in the surface. She couldn’t quite see the imperfections that lay hidden in the hollow core, but she determined to root them out.
The princess tried to patch the hole, but nothing she did worked.
Forbidden colors piled against the crack, begging to be set free.
Then when the queen suspected the presence of the worst one of all, she locked the princess away in a tower so it could not sully the shine of her glass exterior. ”
Though she spoke the words as if they were pure fabrication that didn’t affect her in the least, she could feel her inadequacies struggling to escape through the hairline cracks of her facade. And Keenan’s eyes were a little too sympathetic as he walked beside her, the laughter gone now.
“Whispers spread through the kingdom like wildfire, wondering how the princess would ever take on the mantle of queenship while hidden away. But the princess gladly stayed in her tower, thankful for its protection from the secrets hidden under her surface. She dreaded the day a knight would try to rescue her. If he succeeded, he would break through the fragile shell containing her unforgivable colors, and the clarity of her glass surface would be tarnished for all to see.”
None of her companions spoke as she fell into silence. Her story had been more revealing and less lighthearted than she had originally intended, but she couldn’t take the words back.
One side of Keenan’s mouth pulled up as he set a light hand on her arm. “I’ve seen stained glass before. The sun shining through it was beautiful.”
She shrugged one shoulder carelessly. “I suppose. Next time I tell it, perhaps I’ll include something about that.”
“Why not finish it now?” he asked. Moving his hand to the hilt of his sword, he held himself in a caricature of a proud soldier presenting himself for inspection.
“One day, a bumbling knight stumbled across her tower. He had no interest in rescuing a princess, especially one who was happy where she was. But the strain of hiding the cracks was wearing at the princess’s strength.
“When she accidentally let him see a little of the color, he was amazed by how much more beautiful her stained-glass appearance was than the clear glass she had shown him before. He pulled her in front of a mirror, letting her see that such beauty would make her a better monarch, not a worse one. Then she left the tower of her own free will and proudly showed the queen and all their people the strength of her spirit. She had been hiding it for fear of those who had always expected their female leaders to be weak, but she discovered that it was all right for the princess to be strong.”
Lifting her chin, she gave him a demure smile. “A fine ending for a fairytale. Thank you for your assistance in completing it.”
He shook his head, letting his hand drop from his hilt. “Most legends have their basis in reality. Why can’t a fairytale as well?”
Heat prickled at Sakura’s eyes, but she blinked it away. Her tale was based in reality, but it was unlikely to have as rosy of an ending as Keenan had painted. Her mother had sent him after a tinderbox. How was such a thing to help her claim her crown?