--hey yall! we made it to 100k views and i can't thank each one of you enough! this has been a long ride, but thankfully i've got you all with me and the end in sight. book two will be uploaded here and will have an upload dedicated just to it's cover. i love all of you so much. this will be part two of three lol. i noticed i had a lot more to say in the special than previously thought. kinda wonder if i should've just made it it's own book. anyway, thank yall for coming back time and time again. yall are amazing! much love and welcome to part two: loves me not 💖💖--
I.
"What do you think, Cerise?" You grinned. "Think of what, princess?" A quiet voice replied. You stood over your writing table. A folded note in hand, you held it above the dancing flame of your messenger candle, watching it burn and flicker into nothing. "When do you think he'll write back?"
"I," the handmaid took a breath. "I'm not sure, princess."
"What makes you say that, Cerise?" You peeked over your shoulder at her before putting your quill and ink away. "May I speak freely?" Her voice was as low as she hung her head. Brows furrowed and eyes boring holes into the stone floor of your chambers.
"Always." You nodded.
"I don't believe it's in your best interest to correspond with that man."
"Why do you say that?" You turned to face her completely, your backside resting against the edge of the desk. "He's shown nothing of value, yet held your attention the entire night of the ball." She paused, hands gripping each other tightly at her front. "There were many fine suitors, and though some were quite homely, they came from prosperous lands. Ones that could help us."
"I see now why my mother sent you to me."
The maid hadn't lied. Not a single fallacy in sight. Since you returned home, well over a month had passed and you made no move to entertain even a single suitor. Your form would stand in front of the dining hall's hearth, spewing excuses as you read over letters sent from the princes and high lords you danced with.
You didn't like this about him.
He was too much that.
As you tossed your grievances into the flame your mother kept alight. You could feel her judging eyes on the back of your neck as mundane and vague reasons poured from your tongue. "This one." You read it over twice, giving her the courtesy of a glance and a wave of the parchment. "This one doesn't care for the common folk."
"Memorable enough. That's the most you've said about any of them."
"That would be because he reminds me of you, mother." You frowned, tossing the parchment in to burn with the rest. "Both of you are fiery and nearly insufferable."
Your face scrunched, hands shooting to soothe the headache you felt coming on recalling the shouting match you instigated. "What shall I do then, Cerise? Marry any one of them with enough resources?"
"If I may be honest, princess, yes."
There it came. The ringing of the bell that bounced above your candle. Enthusiasm dripped from your fingertips as you pinched the flame, pulling a stack of folded parchment out, tied and held together with twine. A smaller, folded piece stuck lightly on top. You removed it first, opening and reading it to yourself.
I'd just been getting this together for you.
For your crops, princess.
You undid the knot, unfolding one of many pages, it was filled with notes and diagrams. "How did he?" You whispered, eyes racing over the words and taking in what you could in a matter of seconds. "What is it?" Cerise took a step towards you. "I need to speak with my father." You bolted out of your chambers.
"Father? Papa, are you awake?" You poked your head in through your father's door. "Yes, my dear, come in." He sat in his bed, book resting in his lap and specs resting on the brim of his nose. "Don't you look alive and well today." He gave a soft smile. "I should say the same for you. How are you feeling?" You closed the massive door behind you. The handle swinging hard and clanging against the wood. "I'm feeling better than I did a fortnight ago. Are you sure those teas you brought home weren't medicinal?"
"The merchant didn't say they were." You raised your brows, still reading over what had been just gifted to you, your feet taking you to his bedside. "What is that you have there?" A little strength he had, but it bent him in your direction, curious of what was in your possession.
"These," You took a moment to look up at the man. "These are texts and diagrams for irrigation from a land much more barren than ours."
"Pray tell, how did you come across those?" Pinching them between his thumb and forefinger, he brought his specs closer to his eyes, peering over the edges of the papers.
"Ah," You said. "A kind soul I met while abroad. However, we don't have the manpower to form such things." Done with teasing the old man, you set the stack of information in his hands. "No, my dear, we have the manpower, not the money to pay them." He replied, looking over them as fast as you first did, knitted forehead just the same. You could see where you got it from.
"I feel that we should settle on both," You nodded. "That is why I came to you."
He took his reading glasses off, now looking up at you. "Would you be so kind, father, in letting me use some of your books?"
"Which books, child?" There was concern in his voice. Rightfully so, he was much more skilled than you and some of his texts could kill the user if mishandled.
"Well, I was thinking, if I could improve my abilities with water; I wouldn't be as good as you, obviously; but if I could get well enough I could build these canals on my own." Eyes now on your hands as they fiddled with each other, you managed to get it out what you wanted, but hadn't found the courage to your father in the eyes while doing so.
"So you would like my spellbooks?" He sighed.
"Yes, but only for the easier spells, nothing I can't handle. I promise." You nodded. "No," His head turned from you, looking on to the corner of his chamber that was likened to a library. Shelved books, stacks that sat on the floor that towered over your head, loose parchment shoved between pages and strewn about his desk.
"But, papa-!" Your shoulders dropped, you finally looked up at him, his hand directing you to a specific stack of books on his desk. "Take my old study notes. Those are much simpler to understand, you're less likely to hurt yourself or someone else."
"Really?!"
"Yes. They should be somewhere in there."
"Alright." Hours you sat at the work desk he once spent days at. You recalled pulling yourself into his lap as a small child. Looking over the runes and dead languages you couldn't read, watching has he annotated and experimented. You reminisced over how you begged him to teach you, even if it was just the smallest, insignificant of things. The answer was always to wait until you were older, and now that you were, and now that he was mostly confined to his bed, the best you could muster was a full well and the occasional isolated storm.
"Have you figured it out, child? Whatever it is you're flustered over?" He chuckled from his bed. Half of your gifted notes you left with him to read and make helping annotations on, and the other half spread out upon the desk along with his that you thought would most help.
"I have." You nodded so assuredly, reaching for one of his many flasks of water, you set the glass in front of you. "What is it you intend to make?" Your father questioned.
Your hands hovered just a few inches away from the flask. "My mother- a shrew, I mean." You puffed as your eyes hardened, trying to concentrate.
"She means well, it's her approach that is sour." He attempted to reason. You hummed in response, picturing the small mammal in your mind. "Relax your shoulders and breathe." He instructed from across the room, you nodded slowly.
It cracked. A fissure after half an hour of focus that continued to grow and spread its roots down the bulbous bottom of the flask. Just out of sight, you saw your father sit forward, eyes widening at the crystalline formations that seemed to bounce around like the sparks from your mothers finger tips.
And then it broke, shards of glass giving way to a single, frozen, shrew.
"You did it!" He exclaimed joyously. "You did it-"
"I did it!" You grinned, one finger moving to rub the snout of the oversized rodent you conjured. Its head beginning to twitch, faux eyes beginning to blink, and cold joints beginning to rotate. "Our manpower."
Not only did it take you a fortnight of dodging your mother to conjure enough shrews, another was taken in relocating farm lands down hill from the nearby body of water. The natural size of the rodents having been able to fit in one's palm, you made the size of cats. You made their first mission preparing the land, softening it for the oncoming rains you brought to further prepare it for seeding. Once hard and unforgiving crust became fertile grounds, then littered with seeds that for a time, were deemed useless because of the lack of resources.
You sat atop your horse, watching the earth rise in organized columns down the hill, only to soon collapse into deep and narrow canals filled with flowing water. Your shrews digging their way down and out of the bottom of the incline, then crawling back up to you.
"Princess?"
You looked down from your overzealous, self assigned, project. "Yes, Cerise?" Your handmaid took a step back, grimacing at one of the rodents that had gotten a tad too close. "There wasn't another creature you could've made? Something cuter, perhaps?" She asked.
"I think moles are quite charming." You grinned, watching her disgust deepen. "What was it you needed, Cerise? Is it my mother calling for me again?"
"No, well, yes," Her eyes widening and head tilting forward in agreement, "but your father wanted to speak with you first."
"Ah, I can't wait to share the news." You sighed. "I wish he could see this."
"That would be-"
"Princess!" A tiny voice called out, both of your attentions turning to the small girl running down the path from the village. "What is she doing?" Cerise asked quietly. "Whatever it is, it can't be good, that one is always with her brother." You gave your horse a light tap to its side with your heel, rushing over to the child whose face turned red from her hurry.
"What's wrong?" You pulled your steed to a stop. "My brother." She pointed back from where she ran. "He can't get down." Her breath was heavy and hair clung to her forehead from beads of sweat.
"Down from where?" You leaned down, a hand outstretched for hers. "A tree." Her tiny fingers wrapped around yours, you pulled her up and sat her in front of you. "Why is he climbing trees?" You asked, tapping your horse again.
"We found plums!" She exclaimed.
"Plums!?" Your head reared back.
"He saw a really big one but we couldn't shake it down. So he climbed up and he's stuck now."
"Right then, you just show me where to go."
Between the trees you rode, grass giving way to sprouts of blue flowers that consumed a clearing in the forest. "He's in that one." She pointed as you came to halt, you got down bringing her along with you. "Yes, I see him." You scratched your head, not recalling plum trees growing as robust as the one before you. Traversing through the lake of bluebells that brushed your ankles and shins with their hellos, the child that brought you there. "What are you doing up there, boy? You asked, hands resting on your hips as you watched the sibling stuff his pockets with plums. It didn't look as if he wanted help at all. "Look at these fruits, princess!" He showed off the ones in his hands. "I wanted to bring some home."
"The ones in arms reach weren't good enough?" You laughed. "These were prettier." He nodded, continuing his conquest. "The pretty ones came at what cost?" You asked.
"I can't get down." He said unbothered. "You climbed higher!" His sister said, now standing at your side. "Higher." You repeated in a sigh, walking up to the base of the tree and grabbing on to a low hanging, sturdy limb. "I did!" He said proudly. "I was just telling the princess how these plums were prettier."
Up you went, sure that you'd caught a few splinters along the way, until you braced yourself among the branches across from the child. "Come on now." You held a hand out, pulling him along when he grabbed hold. He took place on your back, holding on to you tightly as you came back down. Fitting the three of you upon the horse's back was a task, but you managed and rode them back.
"Off you go." You brought the two down off your horse. "There you are, child. I was wondering when you would show up." Your head snapped in the direction of your father's voice, seeing him upon his own mare. "What are you-?" Your eyes widened.
"I was feeling spritely today and wanted to go hunting with my daughter. We haven't had any fresh meat in a while. What do you say?"
"I-I'll go get my things!"
"I've already got them." He patted the bundle of your belongings sitting by his on the horse's croup.
II.
The two of you watched and waited quietly in the bushes, waiting for an animal to make itself too apparent. "That's cheating, you know." You said watching your father load his crossbow. An old and weathered hand running along the groove, filling it with an crystalized arrow that pulled the string back and taught. "We're coming into a new world, slowly but surely." He said through a chuckle. "Would you like to give it a try?"
You looked over the bow in your hand. "I think I'm alright with this." You paused. "You could teach me how to make those arrows."
"I could." He nodded. "But if I do that, and you don't want to use this tool, you'll need to devote much more time to practice to make them sturdy at the length you'll need." You dropped to the ground without hesitation, cross legged and hands pressed on your knees. "I'm ready." Your father hummed, slowly setting himself across from you. "Well then." You watched that same weathered hand run over the grass between you, pulling all moisture from it and leaving the small portion of land beneath you brown and dry. Forming it into a ball, it passed it into your possession, your hands shaking but willing as you moved to take it. "Stretch it and focus on what you want." He said calmly. You managed the stretching, that was easy, freezing it over was taking longer than expected.
"I know that it sometimes seems that your mother is callous-" Your father spoke up, having caught you, no, put you in a state where you had no room to react the way you may have wanted. Knowing you wouldn't want to risk breaking your concentration too much.
"That would be because she is." You said, eyes strained on the water that stretched between your fingertips. "Her ways can be cruel, but you must understand that this isn't something she's doing for solely her benefit." You visibly frowned. "Before we met, we would write to each other, much like you do with this...individual that's caught your attention. She was quite reluctant at first, like you."
"Maybe we disagree because we're too much alike then." You sucked your teeth. "No, you're too much like me." He corrected. "I wrote her a poem once, she'd changed since then."
"I didn't take you for a poet."
"I'm not." He chuckled. "It took me ages to complete it."
"Do you remember it?"
"Of course I do-
Coarse are your words, that cut me deep
Your soul, the strongest this man shall seek
I'm no poet, so if I may speak freely
I understand you do not desire to be with me
If I can better your time here, simply tell me and it's yours
My goal is not an undefeated lineage, with lands of plenty
The one desire is to be happy and free
To see you shine in all your glory until the end of days
And when stars of sapphire fall into the sea
And when the world turns into the abyss
I know your last flickering embers will warm me
And comforted I will to fall into peace
"That." Your eyes widened. "Are you sure you wrote that, papa?"
"I positively wrote that!" He laughed. "Well, with all due respect, I don't think she'll be writing me any poems to win me over."
"That wasn't the point of bringing that up, child." He set a hand on the crown of your head. "The smallest things can change how you feel. No matter how troubling, no matter how resentful you may feel, there will be something you can find comfort in to make your time there, wherever there may be, bearable." He sighed. "You know if I could keep you here forever, I would in a heartbeat."
III.
You sat at the breakfast table, excited once again to see your father sitting along with you like he did before he fell ill. "I'm glad you decided to join us." Your mother gave you a look over the rim of her cup. "It's been a while since I hadn't." You replied, questioning her tone. "Yes, well," She took up the service bell that sat to her left, ringing it lightly. "Sometimes it's hard to be sure."
Your eyes narrowed, cutting from her to Cerise as she appeared from one of the dining halls entrances, something wrapped tightly held in her hands as she approached you. "What is this?" You asked as she set it in front of you. "Open it."
Slowly and full of suspicion, you unwrapped the cloth to reveal a box. One small latch holding it closed. "What-" You pulled out the necklace waiting for you. Pinching it between two fingers, freshwater pearls laced through a single cabochon pendant dangled halfway out of what had actually been a jewelry box.
"Who is this from?" You looked at the woman sitting across from you. "Ah, what was his name?" She tapped her chin. "The one that reminds you so much of me-"
"You did NOT." You dropped the jewelry immediately and slammed the box shut. "Send it back."
"Let's not do this over breakfast-" Your father reached out for your shoulder.
"Why must you be so insufferable?!" Your mother spat. That woman that sat just a few feet away, glaring at you so angrily, sparks shot from her temples. "Why must you be so spiteful?!" You shot forward. "So unappreciative?!" Your arm outstretched and pointed towards the window. "All the food I brought this harvest. These people are happy! They are fed! Why are you so obsessed with selling me like livestock?!"
"Livestock? You're a selfish child." She feigned a chuckle through her irritation. "Sit down."
"No! Answer me!" Your hand cupping your heart. "Why are you ridding yourself of me?!" Your voice broke, lips quickly pursing after to hide their quivering. "Do you think I want to?! Do you think I want to see my only surviving child leave?! This isn't about you! This has never been about you. This does not and cannot end with you!" She drove her forefinger into the table with every syllable, nail nearly breaking as she did.
"It doesn't have to! I! I found someone I truly care about and-"
"And you what? Intend to marry this no one for love? To have your people starve and die so you can have your happy ending?" She scoffed.
"They won't. I- we saved my home once, we'll do it again!"
"And when the frost comes? Hm? What then? What does he have to offer you then? More letters? More work for you to do while he's where exactly?"
"He'll be here before then." Your fists clenched at your sides. "Oh? Did he tell you that? When then? Tomorrow? A fortnight from now? A month? Surely it won't take as long as it takes you to choose an available and willing suitor." She pointed to the box before you.
"You're being too harsh." Your father set a hand on her wrist. "Not harsh enough."
IV.
Time had passed and correspondence between you and your mother had gone dry, only having been done through passing handmaids and letters. It was rare, but when you heard the bell ring above your desk, every fiber in your being prayed it wasn't her. Prayed she hadn't done something so awful out of spite, as some sort of discipline.
When it tolled, you held your breath as you pinched at the tip of the flame. Pulling slowly, you recognized the writing as not hers but a welcome recipient. Good evening, Toshinori. You smiled softly at the parchment wrapped so tightly in twine. It was heavier than usual, you pulled carefully to untie the knot. Not carefully enough, you couldn't focus on what rolled and fell so quickly. Loud clanging of blues, reds, and greens came from the stone floors of your chambers. "What?" Your eyes went wide in confusion, staring at the jewels strewn about. "What?" You hissed, you turned back to the parchment you still held.
I'll be with you soon I hope
Until then, princess
For your dam.
For the dam. You bit back a sob, crouching down to scoop up the gems. "You sent so many, too many. You overzealous man." Varying shapes with their varying colors were cupped in your hands and you, once again, bolted from your chamber. Your heels hitting the floors hard and echoing through the old castle. You made rounds for your father to be nowhere in sight. For the few moments you paused to catch your breath, you considered what better way there would be to show your birth giver that the one she doubted was worth his weight and more in gold.
Where was she? Where were either of them? Where was the staff? Your journey led you nearly everywhere until you remembered one of the last few places you hadn't checked. The study. You turned and headed there, just around a few corners and down a hall.
Moonlight poured through the windows, kissing your temple at each passing and illuminating your way. Something else poured through as well, the faint sound of voices, so many voices. Was that music? Perhaps they'd found a reason for merry making down in the village.
Your original guess had been correct, seeping from beneath the study doors had been a familiar yellow. She'd lit the fireplace. You could feel it as you approached, but it was different, it felt stronger. Talking was heard from the other side, the smell of tea filling your nostrils. Nodding as you realized you found both of your parents, you mustered up the nerve to interrupt.
Carefully, you pressed the gems between one hand and your stomach. Your free palm going cold against the freedom of its previous grasp and presence of the night air. Your chest tightened when your hand wrapped around the door knocker, with breath held, you reared it back and tapped it against the door.
It went quiet behind that door.
It went silent.
That feeling in your chest worsened from it. "Yes?" Your mother called. "Ma-" Your voice cracked, you cleared your throat and tried again. "May I enter?"
"Yes."
With your hand wide and pressed against the door, you pushed it open slowly. Golden light consuming the hall no faster than the jewels dropping from your hands again. The sound of them clattering running through the halls with as much fervency as you once had.
That sound rang over and over in your head, bounding from one corner of your mind to the other, while your eyes darted from your mother to your father.
To him.
"W-why." You mustered out, so quietly, hands shaking as you tried again: "Why is he here?" It was still so soft, your voice, but blared like a cannon against the pursed lips of the three in front of you.
"Dear," Your father cleared his throat. "Why don't you take a seat? Join us." You don't know what else he said. It didn't matter, the shaking in your hands was replaced with fists so tight you felt nails breaking skin. Your breathing so rapid, so violent, your chest heaved with each in and outtake. Damning those turquoise eyes you glared into with every passing second.
How could they? Invite him into your home? Sit with him over tea? And about what?
You hadn't snapped out of your trance until from the corner of your vision, you saw your father offer up the open chair next to that man, that intruder. "No." You shot through gritted teeth. "Child of mine, please be understanding-"
"NO." Your attention turned fully to your father. "I told you she'd do this." Your mother rolled her eyes, filling her cup as if nothing was wrong. "Why is he here?" Your heart pounded in your ears.
"Dear-"
"Enji, you'll have to excuse her, she's hard headed and soft hearted." Your mother reached across the coffee table between them, setting a momentary, comforting hand on his.
"Why did you bring him here?" There was a pain that ran from your palms to your wrists. "You said...you told me-"
"I told you your mother was right." Your father sat up, voice stern and face turned disciplinarian. "I told you her approach was awful and I told you she was still correct. I tried to be patient and wait for you to come to your senses but you're playing games with lives, little one."
"No." You shook your head. "Papa, no. He said he'll be here soon and he sent payment for our dam. I didn't ask, he just sent it." You plead.
"Who is this 'he'?" Enji finally spoke up. "Oh," You mother laughed, waving it off. "Just some penpal she acquired. What was his name? Todo? Tostito? Totinos?"
"Toshinori." You hissed.
"I know of that one." That intruder said confidently. "I know of that one well. He's a conman and played his way into nobility, not a trueborn in the slightest sense."
"You're lying." You choked out.
"Oh?" Enji sat forward. "And you know him as what?"
"I-"
"He's a womanizer as well. He'll toy with you for as long as it takes, he'll give you whatever it takes." Enji took a moment to glance at a gem that rested by your foot. "When he gets what he wants you'll never hear from him again and he'll be off after the next pretty thing that caught his eye."
"I don't believe you." Your teeth nearly breaking as they clamped down. "What do you know differently than me?" Enji pressed a hand to his chest. "Your tiny home, secluded from the rest of the world, of course you wouldn't know. That's what he would want. You can't turn down his advances if you know nothing about him."
"She truly does know nothing." Your mother added. "She couldn't even give us a house name."
"That's because there isn't one." Enji replied.
Drip.
What was that? That sound that interrupted the scrutiny? "Child, your hands..." Your father pushed forward and off his seat. You looked down at the little drippings of blood at your sides, unclenching your fists as you did so. You brought them up to see, to look over what you'd done. Your hands hadn't gone numb like they should have, you found the reason for the pain. Ice had grown pointed at your fingertips, deepening the punctures from your nails. Streams of red flowed down your phalanges over the holes you pierced and down your forearms. "Look what you've done." Gingerly, your father took hold of your wrists, melting away the ice that coated your fingers. "I won't do it." You shook your head. "I won't." You gave your father the courtesy of a final glance before you turned on your heel and ran.
V.
"Princess?" There was a soft tap at your door before it cracked open. "Princess look at this-" Cerise stepped in, the room darkened and your back to her as your hand scribed furiously. "What are you doing?" She asked just barely above a whisper. "Leaving."
"Y-You can't-"
"Why?" You shot daggers over your shoulder, a platter of roasted beast in her hands. "Because..." She gulped, shaking her head. "Because, princess, look."
"Because food, Cerise?"
"Yes." She took a step closer. "Food and everything else they brought." She set the platter down on your bed. "Won't you come see?" She took hold of your wrist, flinching at the sudden feel of dried blood. Shaking it off, she pulled you regardless. "Please come see." Her head turned to the window of your room. "Please, princess." She begged, pulling harder, eyes still on the distant glow outside.
More than half your mind fought to stay seated, but you stood, following her over to the opening. You had to lean as she did, more so, to see around her head. That's when you heard it again. The singing, the celebration. When you saw just a glimpse of people dancing in the little town's square. Some of the faces were new to you. "There." Cerise pointed. "The wagons." Her finger traced the long line that reached over the hill in the distance. "All filled with goods." She pointed elsewhere. "Cattle, pigs, horses, sheep, chickens...some animals I've never seen before. You've got your own wagon too, princess. Filled with beautiful gowns and jewelry and trinkets. He brought so much more than the bride price set in hopes to win some affection."
You stepped back and clicked your tongue. "In hopes I'd see what he'd done and be too soft to decline."
"Well, if that's how you feel, princess, maybe you're right," Cerise turned back to you. "And if you leave will he as well? Will he take the bride price back with him? What if he and his men aren't that kind? What happens to us in your absence, princess?"
"You won't have to worry about that."
Your attention shot behind you, your mother in one hand holding what you'd written and in the other
"Stop!" You shot forward to the grip she had on your messenger candle, it creaked and whined as bright cracks appeared. "My queen, please don't!" Cerise stepped too late, your pain filled hands already wrapped around your mother's fighting in vain to make her let go. "Why must you be so insulant?" She hissed at you. "I don't want to be sold!" How hard it was to be careful and forceful, your candle whining louder and growing brighter from the inside. "I don't want to be with someone I dislike!" Her grip tightened. "Mother, please!" You could feel tears streaming down your cheeks, your hands bleeding through the elementary binding you'd done. "I don't want to learn to love him like you did with papa-"
"Love?!" Her eyes shot wide. "I never loved your father."
The whining stopped, what was wax shattered like glass and rained onto your desk. Conflicting feelings filling your chest looking over the mess made, those words that woman spat ringing in your ears.
She snatched her arm away, scoffing. "I hardly like him. I did what needed to be done." She turned for the door, looking over her shoulder at the scene, voice wavering as she said. "And you can do the same."