CHAPTER 52 #2
Foregoing the customary curtsy, Sakura lifted her chin and strode away toward the door.
She kept her face forbidding, daring anyone else to offer a dance before she could escape to the hall for a few moments.
Once she assured herself that Keenan was being cared for and was still amenable to her keeping up appearances, she could continue her act of the strong, almost-perfect princess.
But the hallway was empty.
She folded her hands at her waist and directed her steps to the infirmary. Two songs was long enough for the physician to have arrived and decide to move Keenan to someplace more comfortable. It was nothing to worry about.
Except that he wasn’t there.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, I haven’t seen him,” the nurse said with an apologetic smile. “The physician left with a servant a few minutes ago, though. Perhaps they took him to his quarters to rest?”
Gathering her skirt in one hand, Sakura trotted down the passage toward the royal wing.
She couldn’t account for the dread settling in her stomach; the nurse’s suggestion was perfectly reasonable.
It made sense that Hari and the physician would help Keenan back to his quarters if whatever ailed him was nothing serious.
So this was a good thing. As she’d told Chujiro, Keenan would be fine by morning. It was only a bad headache.
“Sakura!” Hari popped out of Keenan’s doorway, and she almost breathed a sigh of relief. But his face was tight. “Thank the heavens. Did you see Keenan on your way here?”
“No,” she replied, the sense of unease curling in her belly. “I just came from the infirmary because you and he weren’t in the hallway.”
Her brother grabbed her shoulders like he was bracing her. “It took longer than I expected to find a servant. When I returned, Keenan was gone.”
“He…he what?”
“I checked his room in case he decided to slip out of sight, but he wasn’t there.
” His grip tightened. “The pack he carried to meet with Father that first day was missing, too. I called for Saito in case I was just looking in the wrong places. He confirmed that everything we’ve provided is still here, and everything Keenan brought with him is gone.
His armor, his sword and dagger, his old traveling clothes. All of it.”
He’d run?
She swayed, and Hari pulled her in for a tight hug. “We can send guards to look for him, but it will cause a scene. I was on my way to ask Father for advice.”
“No.” Pushing away, she lifted her chin and folded her hands at her waist, steadying herself. “If anyone asks, he was feeling unwell and went to bed. A few trusted guards will seek him out, but in disguise.” She took a deep breath. “I imagine I know where he’s headed.”
When Hari tilted his head questioningly, she murmured, “Kakureta. To see if his friend is still alive.”
Even though he’d promised that he wasn’t leaving right away. That he would tell her before he left.
But where else could he have gone?
Hari’s jaw dropped. “He left in the middle of your betrothal celebration to take on a suicide mission?”
“Don’t say it like that, Hari. Please.” Her throat tightened. “I—He must have had his reasons.”
And his sword. She should have let things be.
But he’d always been honest before. Why had he lied to her about this?
A set of quiet footsteps approached. “Perhaps you would like to rest in your room for a few minutes before you return to the ball, Your Highness?”
Sakura turned to her maid. Kasumi’s efforts to make her irresistible had been insufficient. Keenan had been so desperate to leave, he’d faked illness to escape her.
But then why had he begged her to stay? Shouldn’t he have let her find the physician so he could disappear sooner?
Maybe—Chujiro’s words during their dance. Could he have had something to do with it?
The thought should have stiffened her spine, but she didn’t think the nobleman would take Keenan’s things. It was a detail that only fit a particular narrative.
“Thank you, Kasumi. That is an excellent idea.” She gave her brother a wavering smile. “Don’t tell anyone, Hari, please. Not even Mother and Father – I’m afraid they will overreact, and we should postpone that until we don’t have an eager audience.”
“I’ll wait till you’re ready,” he promised. He dropped an arm around her shoulders for a quick squeeze, then pointed a finger at Kasumi. “Take care of her for me, all right? I’ll cover for her at the ball.”
Then he straightened his waistcoat, twitched his ceremonial cloak back into place, and sauntered toward the ballroom as if Sakura weren’t about to crack into a thousand pieces.
“Come on, Your Highness,” Kasumi said soothingly, placing a gentle hand on Sakura’s back and guiding her toward her door. “You’ll feel better once you have a chance to rest and adjust to the news.”
Sakura let herself be led along. Kasumi had almost been her friend once. There was no servant better suited to witness her distress, and none that was more familiar with her many weaknesses and failures. She’d cut herself off from Kasumi after Daichi’s reassignment, but maybe she shouldn’t have.
“I’m sorry about Dai,” she said as Kasumi helped her to one of the settees.
The maid froze. “What?”
“Daichi,” Sakura clarified. “Your brother?” She looked at her hands. “He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”
“I didn’t know that you knew he was my brother.” Kasumi’s words were quiet. “You never talked about him.”
“He told me,” Sakura replied, her lips turning up just a fraction. “He loved to talk about his big sister.”
Biting her lip, Kasumi glanced over her shoulder at the door, then rushed forward and knelt in front of Sakura. “You really care about Keenan, don’t you?” Sakura nodded. “Then you should know—”
She cut herself off, looking down at the floor. Sakura grabbed her shoulder. “What?”
“I shouldn’t tell you.” Kasumi shook her head, then said in a rush, “The tinderbox Keenan gave the queen was a fake. And she knows it.”
Sakura’s hand convulsed before she jerked away from her maid. “How do you know?”
“Mori told me.” Lifting her head, Kasumi reached a hand toward Sakura, then shoved to her feet and paced away.
“He found out because the guards received orders to apprehend Keenan in the morning – the queen didn’t want to disturb the celebration.
And he planned to warn Keenan. But I think she anticipated that. ”
“What do you mean?”
Kasumi wrung her hands. “She had a bag of flour sewn into the side of his pack and a small hole cut in the bottom of the patch. If he was in a hurry, he may not have noticed. But it will leave a trail as he walks, and she’ll be able to follow it straight to him.”
The information turned over in Sakura’s mind. If Keenan was fleeing capture, of course he wouldn’t have sought her out first. Saying goodbye would have tipped his hand, not to mention taken time he didn’t have.
He hadn’t lied to her.
Her heart was so light, she felt like she might float away. It would be difficult for him to return with her mother chasing him, but given time, surely she could—
The rest of Kasumi’s words hit her. “He doesn’t know,” she murmured. Had there been a trail in the hallway? She hadn’t noticed. And even if Hari had looked at the floor, a dusting of flour would blend in with the thick, pale carpet in Keenan’s room.
She shoved to her feet and strode out her door, not caring if her steps were too long. Her hand smacked the doorway when she took the corner a little too close, but she hissed in a sharp breath and kept going.
No flour in the hallway – had he noticed and cleaned it up as he went?
Barreling through the door to his quarters, she scoured the carpet. The suite was clean.
A relieved breath puffed out of her mouth. Either Mother’s trick hadn’t worked as expected, or Keenan had discovered it.
Her fingers brushed over the windowsill as she leaned against it. It should have been smooth, but it felt almost gritty. Had the maids been lax in their cleaning?
She froze, then slowly turned her hand over to look at it. The pads of her fingers were covered in a fine white dust.
~
Sakura loitered at the corner, casually searching the ground for the next patch of flour. The rough wool shawl scratched her arms, but Kasumi had assured her that it would help her blend in. And a lone princess wandering the streets of her city desperately needed to look like any other citizen.
She spotted the telltale mark a few yards down the eastern path. The flour didn’t puff out on every step, but it was enough for her to follow his trail.
There had been a larger pile below his window. How he’d climbed out a third story window with no rope was a mystery, even if he hadn’t collapsed after their dance. But that was a question for later. First, she needed to catch him.
Another heavier patch appeared next to a wall before the spots spread out again. Hurrying on, she felt a brief wish that Kasumi had come in her place. But the maid was afraid of repercussions if she were caught, and Sakura refused to make it an order. This went beyond a maid’s responsibilities.
And so, Sakura was dressed in Kasumi’s clothes, following a sporadic trail of flour deep into the narrow parts of the city where a princess didn’t belong.
For the hundredth time, she wondered if she should have sought her parents first. What she was doing wasn’t safe, and Father was usually reasonable.
However, Father’s opinion on her weapon-smith was unclear, despite allowing him his weapons. And Mother might only pretend to change her mind so Sakura would promise Keenan safety if he returned.
No. Better to first make sure Keenan, Oliver, Cherry, and the powerful tinderbox were safe. Then, when she knew Mother couldn’t find them, she would convince her parents to rescind the charges.
The trail stopped in front of a street door that stood ajar. Sakura walked a few strides past to make sure she hadn’t missed a lighter dusting, but the dim light of the distant streetlamp didn’t reveal any marks.