"It's not that they failed to teach me well, but that I failed to listen."

 

 

"Do not speak of this to a single soul in this kingdom."

The princess gazed levelly with Amari. The moonlight streaming past the half-closed curtains hit the narrow curve of her neck and doused her nightgown in a faint glow. Her hair was no longer immaculately tied up. It now hung limp—damp on her shoulders and delicate neck. The distance she had put between herself and Amari instantly crumbled apart. Scathing caution watched his every move closely.

"Who is there to speak of it to that would believe me," Amari said, while carefully hanging up the standing rack conscientiously moved in by the servants after he returned.

"But it's not a big deal for a princess to travel into the kingdom—the servants notified me without batting an eye. And it is no problem to dress as a man to hide your royal identity from the people—it tends to be a common conclusion most royalty make. So why does it panic you like so?"

Princess Xinyi's prepared excuses weakened with every word, before snuffing out. She clenched her jaw tight. The newfound expressions of Princess Xinyi, combined with Jun Mizuhara, puzzled Amari thoroughly. She was a truly different person from the stoic, steadfast princess he understood her as.

Like Leishan... who also put on a different front.

The rise and fall of Leishan's stacked moles trailed the corners of his thoughts. Amari blinked them away. Princess Xinyi leaned against the wall with her arms crossed—her lady-like demeanor falling away with the clouds shrouding the moon.

"You can tell the servants, my siblings, even my father—but don't tell Minato. It can't be him. I'd rather disappear."

Amari sorted the contents of his satchel into a neat collection atop the table he dined on, before pausing and picking up the crystal hairpin from Princess Xinyi.

"I won't tell anyone. Jun Mizuhara—that's your name, isn't it?"

Princess Xinyi's gaze wavered, as she whispered a dull denial.

"It is not."

It was as if rejecting the notion tore away at something within her.

"When I said Princess Xinyi at the plaza... the life drained from your eyes. Yet, whenever Minato called out your name, you answered clear and concise. You prefer Jun."

"You cannot call me that here."

"But I will in private," Amari smiled.

Jun opened and closed his mouth, before turning away, annoyed. "I didn't expect our Caller to be so asinine."

"True colors have been exposed tonight. And speaking of, I hope to get at least a few hours of sleep in before daylight."

"Hey, what are you—"

To Jun's utter dismay, Amari coerced him until his feet were firmly planted outside of the doorway. Amari peeked his head out, turning to check both ways. Only upon confirming no other presence was around did he finally meet Jun's confused countenance.

"Goodnight Jun," Amari whispered, the secret delightedly rolling off his tongue.

"Goodnight, Amari," Jun managed to respond—the name shot through him like lightning, rendering him speechless.

But midway through his amiable bid farewell, the door was promptly shut in his face. Jun, stunned by Amari's impoliteness, could only shout retorts in his mind, saving them away for the busy morning where they'd go unheard by working servants.

Servants looked on in curiosity as their princess, although in her usual stony face and proper eloquence, had Amari now tailing her closely in the morning. He'd lean in to whisper, to which a shadow of expressive shock would flicker throughout her countenance—enough of which to thoroughly entertain the honored guest of Beijie.

"Have you and Minato already planned to resume your lovers' dance today? I wouldn't put it past you, seeing as how lovestruck you were yesterday evening."

Jun sat down with a dark glare in his eye. He thanked the servants who set down the food with a soft smile, all while crushing Amari's foot with a heel below. Amari bit his lip trying not to laugh. The servants exited together, their passing compliments of the princess's beauty floating over with the morning breeze.

"You dare be so crass in the open like this. Unbelievable."

"Does it bother you to live in secrecy?" Amari asked aloud, beginning to sip on the brewed tea. The fragrant, leafy taste warmed him to the pit of his stomach.

"Why would it," Jun retorted. "I've long since lived this life as I have."

He no longer paid attention to Amari's words, instead focusing on the intoxicating breakfast at hand in tandem with the pleasant weather. Amari, taking immediate heed in Jun's waning patience, left the conversation to a comfortable stagnancy. Amari propped his cheek in hand, interested in the change in Jun's countenance.

Beauty, perhaps, was an understatement, when it came to the intricate makeup and dress Jun wore. Every movement flourished—but like that of a doll meant to be shown off. Such sensation wore off though with his low glare.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," Amari laughed again, "just, I think you're more suited to this sort of honesty."

"Honesty is unladylike. Honesty does not find a princess her husband."

"Indeed. You lost my interest upon our first words."

Jun stiffened, before leaning forward. "What did I mess up on? I thought I presented myself in a very mysterious, charming way that invoked a sense of curiosity of the male gaze."

"It's hard to be convinced of that when all you did was stare down my hair and cryptically converse a fragment of conversation with me. It was obvious to any witness you held zero interest in my favor."

Jun, despite lowering the volume of his voice, whispered animatedly in response to Amari. Laughter continued to float throughout the courtyard, causing the passing servants to raise brows in the distance. Although their princess had yet to find a spouse out of any guest, they weren't quite sure if the barely breathing guffaws of laughter indicated a change in such status.

For the first time, Amari did not stop to think about the potential what-ifs and suspicions against Jun—for his secret had long since fallen away, and Jun no longer bothered to hide his every thought.

For, during a long, enjoyable brunch outdoors, did the endless thoughts plaguing Amari retreat. What remained was how sunlight kissed his skin through the scratchy Nanjian fabric, the unknown birds chirruped as they flew over, and Jun weaving endless stories of his times within the kingdom. The pair flitted throughout the manors. Jun introduced the array of garden arrangements throughout them.

"I really love this one," Amari said, nose pointed upward with a sniff.

A subtle, grassy flora wafted through the dense overgrowth—knotty branches grew through the tunnels of trellises as if a gateway to an unknown jungle. The flowers were dense and bright without the usual overpowering, nasal pain. A strange mirage of images floated through his vision. The blooming branches above overlapped with a familiar tree.

"...Amari? Amari? What's the matter?"

Amari pinched his brows before shaking his head, "Nothing—sometimes I get assaulted by memories of past lives."

The flower caught in Jun's eye had been exempt from a plucked fate; instead, he skipped over, dress fluttering, with a curious gleam.

"Is that a facet of your power?"

"No, I... my tribe never taught me about memories. Only of serenity, patience, and generosity. Look where they are now as a result of such values."

Jun frowned. "Don't say such things. You don't mean that."

"No—you're right. It's not that they failed to teach me well, but that I failed to listen. It's my fault they're all..."

Amari's voice was estranged, his gaze no longer seeing Jun's. He couldn't feel Jun's hand touching his shoulder either. It was the grains of sand between his toes. The damp sweat lingering from an intense kiss. And the rushing waves counting down Cedric's sentence.

'I have no intention to forgive you, Gatekeeper. Betrayal is all that you have proven my brother, your cruelty is what remains of the people who died.'

"All I do... is curse those around me," Cedric said, voice thinning to a choking breath.

"Amari," an urgent voice called, "Amari! Let's return to the manor. You're not well."

The rushing of the waves faded with agonizing seconds before the green of the garden washed over Amari once more. Jun took Amari's arm with a careful glance, and led him out, away from the silver blossoms. They returned to the main, royal manor. Jun sat Amari down on his bed, quickly darting in and out the room to brew a pot of fresh tea.

"I'm sorry," Jun began, pouring the tea with his back poised and hands flat—the habit seemed built into him. "I won't mention it again. In regards to your past."

"Really, I'm fine. What's a power without a certain setback, no?"

Jun didn't laugh, hair falling forward as he watched the tea rise to the brim of the teacup.

"Jun," Amari said.

Jun's head jerked up. He scowled and scolded Amari for using the name, before asking him what was the matter.

"Is that manor—the small one with the silver blossom tunnel, is it lived in? Could I ask King Qianlong for that property as one of my own?"

"Is that wise?" Jun asked.

"Excellent—so it is open."

Jun found the smug expression to be especially annoying. He placed the teacup down with a harsh clink. "Don't play smart. You weren't feeling well back there. Won't it affect you if you live there?"

"It won't."

The two stared each other down for a long time before Jun sighed and closed his eyes. He brought his cup to his lips, "I won't control you. Drink, it has soothing qualities. Unless you want my hard efforts to court you to go to waste."

"I grow less and less interested by the hour, 'Princess Xinyi'."

Jun coughed on his tea, bending over at the expense of Amari's jingling chortle.

"You were the one who told me I must be careful when I speak of your name," Amari drawled.

Jun punched Amari's shoulder, unable to hold together his falsely disgusted expression.

"Absolutely terrible..!"