Amaryllis

Chapter 19

Shisui started off his day by spitting tea halfway across the table. He rubbed his handkerchief over his mouth and chin as he struggled to make sense of what his cousin had just said.

"You think what?" he hissed. And then, clearing his throat, he cast a look around the room. Sasuke's guards were standing outside. The servant girl who had delivered their tea and snacks had long since departed. Still, he couldn't help but feel nervous. Even if he hadn't been the one to bring up the subject, him sitting and listening now made him complicit to whatever was to come of this.

"Don't make me repeat myself. I hate the idea more than you do," Sasuke sighed. He set his teacup down in the matching saucer.

"You're speaking treason. You're going to get yourself killed. Oh, and me as well, now that you've roped me into your madness," Shisui worried.

"You think I don't know that?" It was Sasuke's turn to snap. His hands clenched on top of the table.

Shisui's protests trailed off. They stared at each other. Shisui lowered his handkerchief.

"Is that why Itachi is still abroad?" he whispered, leaning in across the table.

Sasuke nodded. Just once.

"So what do you need from me?" Shisui then demanded.

Sasuke hesitated. He chose his words carefully before he asked: "Your wife… do you think she can be trusted?"

Shisui hissed through his teeth. He leaned back, rubbing a hand through his hair. When his eyes returned to Sasuke, they were sharp with accusation.

"You'll get her killed."

"Can she be trusted?" Sasuke repeated his question.

Shisui rubbed his hair again. And then he heaved a sigh. "Of course she can."

"How do you know?" pressed Sasuke.

"She just…" Shisui paused. Huffed out a long breath through his nostrils. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. Opened them again. "I'd trust her with my life and yours. Tell me what you want."

Each of the members of the royal family had a personal physician. It was the doctor's job to know everything about them. To anticipate their needs and to provide prompt treatment. Finding one doctor was a challenge. Finding four was a miracle. Although, with enough money and power, even miracles were for sale.

Sasuke's physician was a pleasant older man with perpetually cool hands. He had overseen Sasuke's care since birth. And while he was certainly competent at his job, he wasn't the person Sasuke needed to talk to.

Karin lowered her spectacles to stare at the two men that entered her office.

"Why not take a break, my love?" Shisui greeted her. He crossed the room before he produced a small bouquet of yellow flowers. Karin didn't look at the flowers. She continued to examine Shisui's smile.

She squinted at him.

"What did you do?" she demanded.

Shisui held the flowers up higher. Until she was forced to look down at them. His smile widened as she glowered and accepted them.

"Nothing yet," Shisui assured her. Karin wrinkled her nose. She fussed with the bright flowers for a moment before she motioned for them to have a seat in front of her desk.

As they settled into their spots, Sasuke tilted his head. He looked from his cousin, a baron of modest but good standing. And then to his mother's physician, a common woman who was tolerated in the palace due to her skill.

"How did you two marry anyway?" he wondered out loud.

Karin fixed Shisui with another sharp look. "He pursued me aggressively, getting in the way of my work," she accused.

Shisui leaned against the arm of his chair. "For months," he added. And then he gave a proud smile. "She despised me. I came to her office every day until she threatened to report me to Her Majesty the Queen."

Sasuke made a face as he watched the two of them banter back and forth.

He had never understood relationships. He understood that, as a prince, he would eventually have to marry.

His parents were an example of a good union. They spent the required amount of time together for the public eye. Their conversations were polite. Almost always pleasant. On their weekly walks in the garden, courtiers loved to comment at what a lovely couple they made. His father had always honored his mother, and his mother had always supported his father. That was all he had ever known.

From a young age, his mother had made an effort to introduce him to potential brides. But she had never pushed him. Listened to his complaints with patience. Chided him when he was less than polite to these girls. Sitting on her knee, Sasuke had wondered why such silly little things seemed to matter so much to his uncles.

"A stable marriage, my son, leads to a stable kingdom. Your partner will determine the fate of this nation and all its people," she had always explained to him.

But sometimes, when he looked at his cousin and his cousin's wife, he wondered whether there might not be more to it than just stability.

"Anyway, as nice as it is to see you, Prince, I'm assuming this isn't a social visit?" Karin interrupted his thinking. She raised her spectacles on top of her head. The metal and glass was lost in her tangle of deep red hair. He had only ever seen a color like that once before. It was rare enough to turn heads wherever she went.

"Shisui claims that I can trust you with my life. Is that true, Physician?"asked Sasuke.

Karin's eyes narrowed. "Is that what he said?" she mused. She looked down at the flowers again. Then back up at Sasuke. "Have you gotten yourself into some trouble, Your Highness?"

Shisui pinched his mouth together, trying not to smile. He turned away and pretended to look out the window.

"Well… not yet. It… it depends on your answer, I suppose," Sasuke conceded.

Karin's scrutinizing gaze didn't leave his face. "Your question makes me feel the need to remind you that I am in the service of your mother, Your Highness," she stated.

Sasuke felt heat creep up the back of his neck. But he refused to look away. He nodded.

And after what felt like an eternity, Karin smiled.

"But, ultimately, I serve the Crown. So what can I help you with?"

Itachi hadn't quite known what to expect when people had warned him of the rainy season that settled over the tea isles for half the year. The rain rarely lasted for the whole day. Often, storms hurried in, enveloping the island before rushing off just as quickly. Sometimes, people didn't even bother rushing indoors. Baskets on their hips, they leaned against palm trees or ducked under eaves until the clouds passed.

But on the days when the rain lingered, it drenched the island. The walkways grew slick, and some of the regular paths turned to mud. The servants of Sami were busy mopping up puddles and searching for leaks. Small problems had to be addressed before they could grow. A tiny leak gone undetected could lead to the entire roof collapsing in a few month's time.

Still, life went on. Even during this rainy season.

The stalls in the market had been designed with this precipitation in mind. Panels folded and shutters closed to protect the wares within. And when the rain eased a little, the stalls opened back up to conduct business as usual. Even in the rain, divers continued to hunt for pearls. The servants in the palace kept kneading dough and folding laundry that had barely made it inside in time.

Dark clouds had gathered on the horizon at dawn. Before the sun could lift its face over the horizon, rain battered the side of the building. Normally, the opened sides of the throne room let the breeze rush through. But during the rainy season, wooden panels were installed to keep the wind and the water out.

"Please, My Lord. I am innocent," an old man rasped. His wrinkled hands gripped his walking stick.

The Duchess' large chair was empty. Instead, Sasori sat in a smaller chair beside it.

The space between Sasori's eyebrows wrinkled. He leaned his cheek on his hand as he stared the man down.

"Accusing someone of withholding wages is a serious matter," Sasori stated. He narrowed his eyes. "I doubt it is something that was done without thought."

The old man's shoulders trembled. He bowed his head. But he did not stumble over his words as he replied: "Yes, My Lord."

Sasori stared for another moment. And then he closed his eyes.

"Very well. I will look into this matter. And if you have paid this man for his work, he will be punished for false accusations," he decided.

The old man bowed even deeper. He stayed that way for a long time before he shuffled his way out. Sasori watched him. He rolled some observations around in his head. And then, very carefully, he motioned for a nearby guard.

Sasori pressed a finger to his lips. He waited for the guard to nod before he whispered something. The guard only nodded before he made his way out of the throne room. Sasori leaned his elbow on his armrest. He heaved a sigh before he motioned for the next person.

Leaning against a column, Itachi frowned. The verdict Sasori had laid out was both fair and pragmatic. But something about the exchange had felt a little off.

As if he could hear his thoughts, Sasori turned his head to look at him. The corner of his mouth lifted. He pointed to his foot.

"His limp," was all Sasori said.

It took a moment for Itachi to realize what he meant. When the old man had entered, he had favored his right leg. But as he departed, he had favored his left. As if standing there under Sasori's piercing stare had made him forget which side was supposed to hurt. As Itachi's eyes widened, Sasori smirked. Sasori shook his head.

"People are so sloppy," he sighed.

As the next person entered for audience, Sasori's smile faded. But there was still something smug about his eyes as he cast Itachi one last, knowing look.

"What brings you here today? The Duchess is occupied, but I will hear your grievances," Sasori recited, as he had half a dozen times that morning.

But as Itachi settled in to listen to this next case, he felt something on his shoulder. As he turned, he was met with a white mask and a wild mane of straw-colored hair. He jolted.

Out of all the sword-wielding mercenaries who wandered the palace, Kushimaru was the only one that Itachi could not get used to. Part of that was undoubtedly the way he never took off that mask. And the other was because he never spoke.

Even now, all Kushimaru did was hold out a slip of paper.

Itachi accepted it. He unfolded it to find a short message. It only took a moment to read.

"Right now?" he asked.

Kushimaru dipped his head once. And then he stalked off.

Itachi folded the note and placed it in his pocket. He turned back to Sasori to let him know that he would be leaving. But Sasori was already looking at him. He nodded before Itachi had a chance to mouth anything. Sometimes, Sasori's acuity was a little frightening.

It had been almost half a year since Sakura's departure.

In that time, Itachi had learned many things. Like when the fishermen greeted him with a smiling "Howzit, Prince", he was supposed to answer, "Good. And you?". Or how arguments in the bazaar always sounded angrier than they actually were. After getting turned around for a few weeks, Itachi had even learned the layout of most of the palace.

In turn, the people of the island were learning about him too. Shizune remembered that he preferred fish and poultry to red meat. The servants starched his clothes a little less because he liked his shirts soft. There was a merchant with a wooden finger who always sent word whenever he procured a new book that he thought might interest him.

Sasuke wrote at least once a week. It was amusing how he spoke to his little brother so much more now that they lived so far apart. The contents of his messages mostly described the mundane. Sasuke wrote about the weather. About how some noble's daughter had thrown herself at him and begged to have his children. Every once in a while, there were hints of more serious matters, but Sasuke never went into enough detail to cause problems should someone intercept his messages.

From what Itachi could gather, Sasuke had begun requesting more duties. Their father would, undoubtedly, approve of his youngest son taking on more responsibilities. And the nobles who wanted the second prince on the throne would begin moving soon when they began to see Sasuke gaining favor.

As Itachi stepped out of the throne room, he stretched his hand out. A single drop of water fell into his palm, rolling down to his wrist. The rain had retreated, at least for a little while. The dark clouds on the horizon promised more precipitation to come.

"Ah, there you are!"

Itachi lifted his head as Kisame's voice boomed out. The tall, blue mercenary waved as he strode down the walkway.

"Drinks on me, Prince!" he announced.

Itachi didn't resist as Kisame threw his arm around his shoulder and lead him in the direction of the city. As they passed, the guards bowed. They sloshed down the steps together, Kisame going on about some type of new drink at one of his usual haunts. The chatter went on and on as they walked the damp streets.

The Sailor's Rest was one of the oldest taverns in Plumeria. The Swordsmen of the Mist had taken up lodging there during their first days on the island. Although Sakura had offered them rooms in the palace, the mercenaries had declined.

Chojuro was sitting at one of the tables when they entered. Across from him sat Zabuza, who leaned with his feet up on the table. As Kisame walked past, he slapped one of Zabuza's boots.

"Mind your manners around the prince, Zabuza," Kisame joked.

"He's not my master and neither are you," growled Zabuza in response.

"Yes, your only master lies in your loins," Chojuro commented as he continued writing. Zabuza's eyes narrowed.

Kisame grinned. "Honestly. The General would kill you if she could see the way you follow that servant boy," he goaded.

The space between Zabuza's eyebrows wrinkled. He glared down at his tankard. "That's not…" He huffed out a long breath. Before he could finish his thought, Kisame threw himself down in the seat beside Zabuza. He gave him a hearty thump on the back.

"Relax, Zabuza. You look more and more like an old man these days," Kisame teased.

Zabuza shot another glare at him. "You're a year older than me."

"I'm a fresh-faced lad at heart," retorted Kisame.

A noise of disgust rose around the table. Kisame looked up when something hit his head. He glared up at the rafters, where Kushimaru was undoubtedly hiding.

"Alright, alright. Drinks on me," Kisame conceded. The noises of disgust faded away.

As the bartender began pouring their drinks, Itachi looked around the room.

Itachi glanced over as Chojuro began packing up his things. "What were you working on?"

Chojuro was oddly soft-spoken to be a mercenary. It was also strange enough that he was literate. Sakura had mentioned once that she thought Chojuro must be a bastard. One who had received an education from his father, but not an inheritance.

"We have a lot of those in the army. I like them. They're desperate to show the world that they matter. They work harder than most," she had commented in passing.

"Just making note of some things. It makes it easier to keep facts straight if they're recorded," answered Chojuro. As he spoke, Chojuro shut his journal and placed it under his thigh.

The drinks arrived at the table. Kisame took a gulp of his mead.

"How are you feeling, Prince?" he then asked.

Itachi rotated his shoulder as he thought. "A little sore, but otherwise fine. I can't help but wonder whether you've been going easy on me lately," answered Itachi before he took a sip.

Kisame wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before he grinned a mouth full of sharp teeth.

"Sounds to me like someone's ready for a bigger challenge," he declared.

"Or you could do things in moderation, Boss," Chojuro interrupted.

Kisame made a noise of disgust as he repeated the word: "Moderation."

Chojuro rolled his eyes.

"You break the prince and I doubt the lady will show you any moderation," Chojuro warned.

Kisame jerked a thumb in Itachi's direction. "He won't break so easy."

Itachi met Kisame's eyes. There was something in Kisame's gaze that made him feel like maybe he wasn't joking.

Kisame's hand moved to the hilt of his sword. Chojuro's fingers slipped into his vest. Itachi followed their stares, turning his head just as the door opened.

Two men walked in, stinking of salt and fish. Their hair and clothes were wet, dripping onto the floor. They each raised a hand in greeting to the mercenaries.

"Howzit, Big Blue," one of them called out as they crossed the room to join them.

"Not too bad. How was the catch today?" responded Kisame, his hand falling away from his weapon. Chojuro's expression relaxed as he nodded at the other men.

The fishermen shook their heads. "Poor catch. Maybe we need a new spot," they lamented. And then their faces lit up even more when they spotted Itachi.

"Ah, howzit, Prince? You looking strong these days," one of the men commented.

"He trying to catch up with the Duchess, dass why," the other said.

Everyone, including Itachi, chuckled.

"Please, have a seat. You must be tired," Itachi insisted. The two fishermen sank into the chairs with sighs. They ordered their drinks, and then they settled in, fanning themselves.

"Ah, you know, Big Blue, we saw something strange before," one of them suddenly brought up.

Kisame arched an eyebrow as he finished off his mead.

"Saw some buggah sailing in from the west. Weird boat. So we ask him if he lost. Says no. Rude, too," he recounted.

"Why was it weird?" Kisame queried.

The fisherman shrugged. "Not a canoe like for fishing. Merchant boat, but shaped funny," he recalled, rubbing his chin.

"Funny?" Chojuro repeated.

The fisherman squinted as he thought. When he looked over his companion, the other fisherman nodded.

"Kind of small… And- ah! There was a crest!" he recalled. He looked around the table. Chojuro had already pulled out his journal and turned to a clean page. He presented his pen, leaning over as he watched the man sketch out what he had seen as best as he could.

Chojuro's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "That is odd…" he agreed. His gaze trailed to Kisame, who raised his eyebrows as he thought. He shrugged one shoulder. Chojuro stayed for one drink before he quietly excused himself, journal tucked under his arm.

To the west, in the landlocked capital of the Forest Kingdom, where fishing was neither good nor bad, Naruto found himself at the doors of the temple again.

"So are you going to go in, or are you just going to stand here breathing heavily like some sort of pervert?" Sai drawled.

Naruto spared him a glare. "You don't have to be here, you know," Naruto snapped.

Sai blinked. Like he hadn't expected his charge to talk back. After all, Naruto was usually all laughs and sheepish grins. Sai searched Naruto's expression before he shrugged.

"They would have my head if anything happened to you. And a certain General isn't around to play savior," remarked Sai.

Naruto squinted at him. "You sound real invested in my safety," he retorted.

Sai smiled. Hand over his heart, he dipped his head. "Your well-being is my top priority. I'm sworn to watch over you, remember?" he uttered. Something about his tone felt threatening.

Naruto felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He swallowed.

"…You don't have to come inside. Wait out here," Naruto said.

Sai's eyebrows rose. He searched Naruto's face before he gave another smile.

"Of course," he answered. He bowed too deep before he opened the door. It slammed behind Naruto as he stepped into the temple. The sound made him flinch. It echoed off the high ceilings. Thankfully, there was no one praying to disrupt. But it did make the High Priestess gasp. She dropped something metal. It went skittering across the stone.

"Goodness!" she exclaimed. As she got down on her hands and knees, Naruto sprinted down the aisle.

"Let me help you!" Naruto called. The priestess' head rose toward the sound of his voice.

Naruto found the pendant under one of the pews. He rubbed it clean against his shirt.

"Here," he said.

She held her hands out, skin white against the soft purple of her robes. The chain pooled in her palm. She closed her fingers around the metal disk. And then she smiled.

"Thank you, Prince. You are too kind," she murmured.

Naruto rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ah… well, it's kind of my fault you dropped it. My retainer slammed the door. Sorry about that," he confessed.

Hinata's smile brightened. "An apology isn't necessary. But I appreciate it nonetheless."

Like all high priestesses before her, Hinata could not see. Blindness was seen as a blessing from the goddess that marked them as chosen. The priestess could remain unsullied by the things of the world if she could not see them. Hinata wore a translucent veil over her face, but anyone could see the cloudiness of her eyes. The way they searched without seeing. She had been born sightless. People had gushed to Duke Hyuuga over how blessed his family was to have given birth to the next high priestess.

Naruto didn't really care about those things.

The high priestess' smiles were real. And she was kind. Two things that were becoming harder and harder to come by in this city.

Or, perhaps, he was starting to recognize when a smile wasn't so sincere.

"How… how have you been?" Naruto asked, struggling not to trip over his words.

Hinata dipped her head. "Quite well. And you, Your Highness?" she asked in turn.

Naruto looked down at his hands. He fidgeted a little before he lifted his chin. He cast a glance around the temple, just to make sure that it was empty.

"Worried… um…" Naruto paused. Stole a glance at Hinata. Her head tilted to one side as she listened.

Naruto tried not to panic before he pulled the words out. Just as he had rehearsed in his head a dozen times over. "Can I get your advice on something?"

"Of course. The temple exists to provide guidance for those who feel lost," Hinata responded.

"Can we… uh… should we sit?" he then suggesting, glancing around again. Hinata's smile didn't change.

"If that would make you more comfortable, most certainly. Would you please assist me?" she requested, holding out her bare hand.

Naruto gulped. He hesitated for a moment. And then he took it. Her skin was smooth and soft. Her hand was so much smaller than his, he realized as he helped her into the nearest pew. When she sat, she withdrew her hand back into her sleeve. Naruto couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

He sat beside her, leaving some distance between them. He flexed his empty hand that suddenly felt cold.

"So…" Naruto exhaled deeply. He knocked his palm against his forehead, as if that would shake the words loose.

"Please take your time. There is no need to rush," Hinata assured him.

That did help a little. He managed to grasp the unraveling threads of the question he had nearly forgotten.

"Say that you have a friend. And… you used to be closer. But lately you're more… uh…" Naruto stopped as he searched for the word.

"Distant?" suggested Hinata.

Naruto nodded. "Exactly! Distant!" The word echoed back across the vaulted ceiling. Naruto slapped his hands down on his mouth. When he snuck a peek over at Hinata, she didn't seem bothered.

"Sorry," he whispered as he pried his hands away.

She nodded. "Quite alright."

"So, I've been trying everything to make things better. But there are just lots of things in this… person's… life that I want to understand. It's just like there's a wall up between us or something," Naruto explained. He heaved a sigh, elbows resting on his knees. He rubbed his face with both hands.

"I just… I know I've messed up some things too. I want to be better. And sometimes it feels like I am being better. But other times… I just don't know…" he trailed off.

It was quiet for a while. And then Hinata opened her mouth.

"Is it uncomfortable to speak in person with this friend?" she wondered.

Naruto considered that. He chuckled a little. "Yes. I feel like I say the wrong thing… a lot," he confessed. "Maybe it's because I get nervous."

Hinata lifted her arms to adjust her sleeves. There was a thin golden band around her left wrist. It glittered with the movement. Naruto found himself staring at it.

"Have you tried writing to him instead? I often hear that it is easier for some to gather thoughts on paper," she suggested.

Naruto hung his head. His silence was an answer in itself.

"Your friend… he does not write back to you?" asked Hinata.

"Sh- He doesn't," he replied.

Letters upon letters left the capital. Sometimes he even wrote daily. But the days stretched on without a single envelope addressed for him. Even a passing mention of his letters would have been enough in person. But she always stared at him with the same look of impatience. If she even looked at him at all. Sometimes Sakura's eyes passed right over him- like he was invisible.

"That must be hurtful," Hinata sympathized. And then her expression shifted. "Perhaps… Have you asked, Prince?"

"Asked what?" Naruto asked in the same glum voice.

"Whether your friend has received your letters. Messengers travel a long way. Letters can get lost now and then," she explained.

"Maybe… well… no. I have no way of knowing that. I… didn't think to ask," Naruto mumbled.

Hinata's hands slipped back into her sleeves. She offered him a gentle smile. "Then perhaps that is something you can ask him the next time you see him. Misunderstandings grow large in the absence of communication, you see."

Naruto's gaze drifted toward the window. The light danced in through leaves. The shadows rippled and swayed across the floor like so many dancers.

"Maybe I should," he agreed.

As he meditated on this, it occurred to him that Hinata might be right.

The cousin he had grown to admire and then fear had once been his friend. Although she had always been smarter and faster, she had never abandoned him in the woods or left him in whatever ravine he had tumbled down. She had complained and scolded. But never left him behind.

During the few months they had spent together last summer, he had seen the same grudging patience in her. Even when she snapped. Even when she rolled her eyes. She always found him in the room. Always made sure he was safe.

She had even shed blood for him. Spilling it across the floor like scattered sunlight. He tried to remember what emotion her face had shown in that moment. Anger?

No. Fear.

And then relief, maybe?

"I'll ask," Naruto decided. "I should ask," he said again, nodding to himself.

They sat in the quiet for a long while. The clock tower chimed outside. It was noon.

Winter had come and gone. Everyone was hard at work now that they were no longer trapped indoors by ice and snow. There were fields to till. Fish to catch. The entire city was alive and moving.

But all was still inside the temple.

Hinata clasped her hands in her lap. "Can I provide you any additional guidance?" she asked.

"No. Thank you. I feel a lot better."

Hinata inclined her head. "I am glad to have been of service. The temple welcomes all to find rest from their troubles," she replied.

"Oh!" Naruto exclaimed. Hinata jumped a little. Naruto didn't notice as he turned and began digging in his satchel. He produced a bright yellow flower.

"I almost forgot. I brought something for you," he announced, gripping the stem in his hand.

Rather than the smile Naruto had expected, Hinata answered with silence.

"Forgive my rudeness, but… I… I cannot accept anything from you. Servants of the temple cannot accept material goods," she uttered.

"Oh. I mean… it's… oh." Because he hadn't even considered what that must have sounded like to her. How many people must have climbed these steps just to bribe the high priestess for a blessing or some sort of favor?

Naruto fumbled for the right words. He looked around. Took a deep breath. Blew it out. Took in another.

"It's a flower," he finally explained.

"A flower?" she repeated.

"I picked it in the garden. Because it was pretty. It's not worth any money," Naruto went on.

Hinata's face went blank.

"Is that… still not allowed?" wondered Naruto.

"I…. thank you. But… I still…" Hinata couldn't finish her thought. Didn't really need to.

Naruto stared at the wilting flower in his grasp.

"That's not your fault. I should've thought a little more about this," he sighed. As he got to his feet, Hinata lifted her chin.

"I truly am grateful," she insisted.

Naruto put on a smile. For who, he wasn't sure.

"Yeah. I'll… I'll come again," he said.

"Please do."

Naruto ignored Sai's questions as he exited the temple. He threw the flower on the street as he strode down the steps. He knew that Sai was commenting about it. But it was easy to block him out.

She had asked him to come back.

That was what mattered more than any of his retainer's snide remarks.

"It's been a few months, but Aunt Kurenai says that things are calm back home," Kankuro skimmed over the message. The paper was in surprisingly good shape for traveling such a long distance.

The seasons meant little in the Viper's Throat. It was hotter here than it was back in Ebizo's palace. The last weeks of winter had passed in Baki's palace with mostly unforgiving, hot days. Now that the calendar's announced a new season, the temperatures remained unchangingly high.

Prince Baki imported large quantities of ice from the north to store underground. The ice cooled the palace as the air moved up the caverns and into the buildings through large towers. The servants also did their best to keep things comfortable. They ran back and forth chipping off pieces of the ice to scatter into drinks. Azra and Esma kept busy with their large fans any moment they weren't carrying out another task.

Temari held her hand out. Kankuro leaned over to pass the letter to her. Temari rubbed her knuckles against her chin as she read.

"Do they really have no idea that Lady Sakura has been abroad?" she wondered.

"That was written at least a couple months ago. Perhaps they have noticed by now. They must have at least one brain between all of them," replied Sakura. She shifted in her seat, crossing and recrossing her legs.

Gaara looked up when the twins entered. Azra set a tray down on the table. It was heavy with sweets and a fresh pot of tea. Esma knelt beside Sakura with a basin filled with towels. Each one had been soaked with fragrant water and rolled into the shape of a different flower. Sakura took one, still speaking.

"How have preparations been going, to your knowledge?" she queried. She unfolded the damp towel and wiped her hands. As the servant moved around the table, each person took a towel. When she reached him, Gaara offered a smile.

"Thank you," he said.

She lifted her chin to look into his eyes. She looked surprised. As if she had never heard such words before. But then her expression shifted back to the polite smile she always wore. She bowed before she moved on.

When Gaara turned his head, he found Sakura staring at the servant girl. On the windowsill behind her, Suigetsu was staring too. His hands folded together under his chin. When his gaze met Gaara's, the mercenary smirked.

"Messages travel slowly. I wish I had more updates for you," Kankuro sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck.

Sakura leaned back in her seat. "I can hardly hold you responsible for that," she responded.

"The last response I received was when I wrote to Sasori to let him know that you were bringing back plenty of guests. He assured me that they would have a comfortable place to stay on the island," he recalled. He leaned back on his palms with another sigh.

"Where? Lady Sakura was promised thousands," asked Temari, examining her nails.

Kankuro ruffled both his hands through his hair. "Don't ask that right now. My head will explode," Kankuro groaned.

Temari and Sakura exchanged a look. "Don't tease him. I don't have a replacement for him if his head really does explode," Sakura scolded. Temari laughed.

Sakura pulled her hair off her neck with a sigh. She heard a few murmured words. And then Esma was standing behind her, fanning with all the fury of a soldier charging into battle.

"Oh my, she tries so hard. It's adorable," Kankuro remarked, leaning toward the breeze. He blinked when Temari returned the letter to him. Folding it into thirds, he tucked it into his pocket.

"Prince Baki has promised you troops. You have yet to meet them. Aren't you suspicious, Lady Sakura?" Temari inquired, crossing one leg over the other.

"It would be dishonorable for him to go back on his word. He would not suffer such shame. He will keep his word. I'm confident," answered Sakura.

They enjoyed glasses of tea filled with ice and mint. They moved on to lighter topics- simple gossip, the weather. Kankuro brought up an old story of how he had once flirted with a woman without realizing she was married. The woman's irate husband had chased them both through the market. They laughed as they recalled Kankuro's terror.

As the time passed, the heat of the afternoon sun swelled and then eased. They decided that a walk around the palace would be the perfect way to pass the time before supper. Temari looked over at Kankuro, who had dozed off some time ago. As Temari took a step toward him to shake him awake, Sakura's voice interrupted her.

"Let him rest. He must be exhausted."

Rolling her eyes, Temari stepped away from him, moving toward the door instead.

Azra and Esma brought out a shawl. Despite the heat, Sakura draped it over her bare arms and shoulders. She reached back, searching. Gaara slipped his hand into hers. She pulled him forward to match her pace without looking at him.

The stone halls of the palace echoed with their footsteps. The northern wing of the palace was quiet. Visitors were not permitted to roam there without her permission. But once they reached the center of the palace, they could hear voices and music. There was always some kind of performer or visitor to keep the harem occupied.

They passed a tall woman wearing a glimmering gown. She spotted them. Sneered without greeting. And then moved on. She barked something to the servant girls behind her. The girls kept their eyes to the ground, shaking hands folded in front of them. One of them looked like she might be limping.

Sakura's eyes narrowed.

She reached a hand out from under her shawl, beckoning. Azra and Esma moved toward her.

"That woman?" asked Sakura, keeping her voice low. The twins' eyes moved toward the woman's retreating back.

"That is Concubine Deba, General," Azra replied in the same half-whisper. She flinched as Concubine Deba snapped at the servants. When one of the girls reached out, the concubine slapped her hands away, her voice growing even more shrill.

"Is that how she always is?" Sakura inquired.

"Always," Esma confirmed. Sakura's eyes fell on her. At the tight line her lips made.

"You once served her," she guessed. Esma's grimace was answer enough. Azra put her hand on her sister's arm. She smiled.

"That's why we're so grateful to serve you now, General," Azra added. Esma's gaze flickered over to her. Then she pursed her lips, nodding as she looked down.

Sakura folded her arms across her chest. She glanced again at the direction the concubine had gone. Then back at the twins.

"Hm," Sakura said. She looped her arm through Temari's, pulling her along. They walked slowly.

"What're you thinking, Lady Sakura?" asked Temari.

"Do you know why people follow a woman like that?" Sakura wondered.

Temari arched an eyebrow. She stole one last glance at the distant back of Concubine Deba. Then looked to Sakura. "Fear, it looks like," she guessed.

"Do you think that works better than a sense of duty?" Sakura mused.

"I don't like that look in your eyes, Lady Sakura. It makes me nervous," Temari sighed, already shaking her head.

That made Sakura smile. Pointer finger on her cheek, she tilted her head to one side.

"I wonder. Should we try a little experiment?"

After supper, Sakura left her quarters alone. Temari looked ready to protest until she spotted Mangetsu waiting by the door. She fixed him with a hard look. The mercenary returned it. Slowly, she nodded at him before she sank back down in her seat.

Mangetsu followed Sakura out of her quarters. They met up with Suigetsu further down the corridor.

Suigetsu pulled his cowl down and coughed. "I'm sick of all this sand," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. And then he turned his frown to Sakura. He coughed again before he spoke. "Also, I don't get this. I thought you wanted to get to the consort- not this woman."

Sakura ran her fingers through her hair. She adjusted her collar.

"It's not about the concubine, Suigetsu. It's about her servants," she insisted.

Suigetsu stared at her.

She sighed, impatient. "Who oversees the day-to-day of any palace? Who has access to my food, clothing, and nearly everything else?" she listed. And then she paused, mouth puckering as she thought. "At home, the staff sees to my every need. In Whiteriver Keep… well… you've seen it."

And then she smiled. "I want to see what happens if I can move the hearts of the servants. What would be the result?" she spelled out for him.

Suigetsu held her gaze for a long moment. He sighed.

"One of the girls just left the concubine's room. Should be coming down that hall soon," Suigetsu reported, jabbing his thumb in the right direction.

Sakura moved past him, her skirts gathered in one hand so she could move faster. The brothers hung back, watching her.

When Sakura reached the end of the hall, Suigetsu clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. Mangetsu looked over. He watched Suigetsu dig his pinky nail into his ear. He flicked the bits of sand away, bouncing them across the polished marble floors.

"Looks like the lady's learning something," Suigetsu commented.

"Good?" Mangetsu wondered, his eyes drifting back to follow Sakura.

"Yeah. Good," Suigetsu confirmed.

Mangetsu said nothing else. Just slapped his younger brother on the back a few times before he followed after her.

Sakura lingered just before the corner. She barely looked up when the mercenaries joined her. She didn't need to warn them to stay silent. If anything, they were quieter than she was.

According to Suigetsu, this passageway led to the larger residences within Prince Baki's harem. This was a service hallway used by the staff. These sorts of places were nice because people's true characters often emerged when they believed no one was watching them.

"You think you're better than us because you serve Concubine Deba now?"

There was a sharp slap. And then the sound of something bouncing onto the floor. A few voices laughed, shrill and cutting.

"Little whore thinks she's tough," one of them mocked.

And then there was a muffled yelp before another voice hissed: "You're nothing. Learn your place."

Sakura's mouth set in a grim line. She had heard enough.

There were three servant girls gathered around a fourth girl. The fourth sat huddled on the ground, both hands covering her head. The three girls snickered as they shoved her with their feet. But when they looked up, they saw Sakura round the corner, the two mercenaries shadowing her steps.

Sakura pretended to take the scene in.

The three servant girls frozen mid-step. The one girl on the floor, hair disheveled. A basket overturned. Linens scattered.

"How unsightly," Sakura remarked, hand on her cheek. She locked eyes with one of the girls as she added, "Is this how things are done in this palace?"

One of the girls, clearly the leader of the group, stepped forward.

"Are you lost, dear guest? This area is typically for…"

Sakura's eyes narrowed. The servant girl's voice faltered. Her words trailed off.

"I don't recall asking for you to speak. What a foolish child," Sakura scoffed. She lowered her hand. "I have an idea of what's happening here. Clean this up," Sakura then snapped.

The three girls exchanged nervous looks before they scrambled to gather the basket and dump the garments inside. They mumbled apologies to Sakura, bowing their heads. Sakura fixed them with a stare for a long moment before she jerked her chin, dismissing them. They hurried off. As soon as they turned the corner, their footsteps quickened, echoing off the stone walls and floors.

As Sakura turned her attention to the remaining girl, her expression softened.

"Are you alright?" asked Sakura. She held her hand out. The remaining servant girl lifted her head, about to reach out. She jolted when she met Sakura's eyes. She swiped her sleeve across her face before she put on a smile.

"I beg pardon, Your Grace. How can I serve you?" she said. She sniffled. There was a scratch mark on her cheek.

"Well, before you serve anyone, can you stand?" Sakura asked. She moved her hand a little closer.

The girl stared at the offered hand. Her gaze flickered to the basket. Then to her ankle.

"Thank you," she whispered before she slipped her hand into Sakura's. She winced a little when Sakura helped her stand.

"I apologize for this scene, Your Grace. It truly is disgraceful for us to have shown an honored guest such a sight," the girl then said, bowing. Her hands clenched into the fabric of her skirt.

Sakura studied the girl's shaking hands. Then her eyes drifted up to her face.

"What is your name?" Sakura asked.

The girl peered up at her through flaxen hair.

"It's Meno, Your Grace," she replied.

"Meno," Sakura repeated. The girl nodded.

"Why don't you sit with me for a while, Meno?"

While it was worded like a suggestion, it wasn't. The girl must have been smart enough to know that. She hesitated for just a moment. And then she bowed again.

Meno trailed behind Sakura as they made her way to the other wing of the palace. Meno cast nervous looks at Mangetsu, who walked near Sakura, and Suigetsu, who trailed behind them.

"Your hair is a unique color," Sakura commented. She kept her eyes focused ahead. Meno started a little. She touched her golden hair, gathered her hands in front of her again.

"…Yes, Your Grace," she replied.

"Are you foreign-born?" Sakura queried.

"No, Your Grace. My father was a traveler," answered Meno.

"Oh, so you're mixed," Sakura guessed.

Meno hung her head.

Sakura sniffed. "With the number of foreign-born concubines Prince Baki has, I would assume that a little mixing would be more than welcome here," Sakura observed. She glanced back at Meno. "Or is that a privilege reserved just for the nobility?"

Meno's eyes widened.

Soon, they arrived at Sakura's quarters. Servants pulled the doors open at their approach.

"Azra. Esma," Sakura called as they walked inside.

The twins came running. Azra helped her unwrap her shawl. Ezra presented a pair of soft slippers. But both girls froze when they noticed Meno lingering in the doorway.

Sakura followed their gaze. She gave an absent-minded wave of her hand.

"Prepare some refreshments for my guest," ordered Sakura.

There was a slight pause as the twins exchanged a look. And then they both answered: "Yes, General."

Several minutes later, they sat in the parlor. Sakura crossed one knee over the other, arm draped over the back of the sofa. She nodded as the twins set a tray down on the low table. Steam curled up from the teapot.

"Oh, Your Grace, I couldn't accept this," Meno sputtered as she looked at the tea. Her hands curled into the fabric of her apron.

Sakura stared at the tea too. The corners of her mouth turned down. "Indeed. You couldn't," she agreed. Her stare flitted over to the two attendants.

"The day is hot. You serve tea on such a hot day without ice?" Sakura scolded. The twins hung their heads as they listened. But then Azra raised her head.

"Your Grace, ice is only reserved for guests of honor-" she protested.

"Which I am. And this girl is my guest," Sakura interrupted. She released a sharp breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. And then she flapped a hand at them.

"Go. Remake it," Sakura ordered.

Azra and Esma exchanged a wary look. They bowed.

"Yes, Your Grace," Azra said before they hurried out the door.

As Sakura refocused her gaze on Meno, she found the girl staring right back at her. Folding her arms across her chest, Sakura raised her eyebrows.

"The harassment. Has it been going on for long?" inquired Sakura.

Meno's hand rose to touch her swollen cheek.

"No, Your Grace. I must have tripped," the girl insisted.

"What strange floors they have here. They rise up to strike the faces of pretty, young girls," Sakura mused.

When Meno just stared at her, Sakura offered her a smile.

"I've been in a fight or two. You don't need to lie to me," she added.

Meno flushed.

By the time Azra and Esma returned with cool drinks, Meno was in tears as she divulged her life story. She sobbed into the handkerchief she pulled from her pocket as she recounted the bullying. There was a strict hierarchy among the staff. Those that served the higher ranking concubines were above the lesser ones. And the older servants could make life hell for the younger, weaker ones.

"But you serve a high-ranking woman. You can't be so awful at your job?" wondered Sakura.

Meno shook her head. She dabbed her cheeks with the sopping handkerchief. Temari moved from the window. Kankuro held out his own handkerchief as she walked past. Temari grabbed it and sat beside the girl. She gave her the clean handkerchief and patted her on the back. Meno gave her a tremulous smile before fresh tears leaked out of her eyes.

"It matters little, Your Grace. They hate me so much, but I try so hard. I just don't understand," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands.

"This can't be right," Sakura sighed, hand on her cheek again. "Who is in charge of all the servants? There has to be some sort of administrator."

At this, Meno hesitated. She looked to Sakura. Then her gaze drifted to the twin girls standing behind Sakura. Sakura turned in her seat to glance at them too. The girls bowed.

"Are you concerned that someone in this room will report you, Meno?" Sakura demanded, facing forward again.

Meno rubbed her eyes. She looked down at her knees.

Sakura's eyes narrowed. She relaxed her arms.

"Rest assured, Meno, should anyone take issue with what you say here today… I will take responsibility," she declared. And then she tossed another glance over her shoulder. "You have my word," Sakura then added.

Meno sniffled. Temari patted her back again.

Twisting the handkerchief between her hands, Meno bit her lower lip. "Oh…. um…. well, Consort Hoki is, Your Grace," she finally confessed.

Sakura touched her pointer finger to her cheek. Her thumb pressed against her chin. She tilted her head to one side as she thought.

"Unfortunately, I have yet to meet Consort Hoki myself. I wonder what her thoughts on this sort of working environment are," she sighed. Her eyes darted up when she noticed Mangetsu cross his arms. He met her gaze, gave a slight nod. She pretended not to have seen it. Smiling, she turned her attention to Meno.

"No matter. I'm certain Consort Hoki has worries of her own," she added.

Sakura took a deep breath before she declared: "I like you, Meno. Why don't you come work for me?"

Meno's eyes widened. Her hands tightened around the handkerchiefs.

"Truly, Your Grace? Can I?" she blurted out. Her face turned red as she realized what she had said. She sunk back in her seat, looking down at her feet.

Sakura's expression warmed. "You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders. I shall speak with Prince Baki about adding you to my service," Sakura replied. When she glanced back, Azra and Esma's faces revealed nothing. Sakura gestured to the twins. "I've been working poor Azra and Esma to the bone lately. I'm certain it will be a relief to them as well."

They finished their tea, Meno still sniffling. Sakura asked her a few more questions about her life, which Meno was more than happy to answer. By the time their cups and plates were empty, Meno's face was swollen, but significantly more cheerful. Azra and Esma collected the tableware and left the room.

As she got to her feet, Meno bowed and thanked Sakura over and over again.

"Make sure Meno returns to her quarters safely. And pass this message along to the Prince," Sakura instructed, pressing a note into Mangetsu's hand. He nodded. Mangetsu then held the door open for Meno.

Sakura waved at the girl, smiling as she watched her go. But as soon as Meno turned the corner, Sakura lowered her hand. She glanced over her shoulder.

"Are you sure about this?" she whispered.

Suigetsu braced his forearm on the doorway. He craned his neck to peer past her before he spoke.

"The twins reacted when you talked about Consort Hoki. They're likely her spies," he replied, keeping his voice just as low. And then he stared at Sakura. "But you already knew that. I don't know why you're asking me."

Sakura raised her eyebrows. "I suspected. That's different," she corrected.

"So why bring that girl? It'll raise more suspicion to replace them, M'Lady," warned Suigetsu. He peered up and down the hall again. His gaze fell to Sakura again when he felt her grab the sleeve of his shirt.

She smiled. "My Aunt has always loved chess. And she taught me to love it too. But don't you think it's more fun when the pieces are alive?" she murmured before she released his sleeve. She stepped back into her quarters. Suigetsu stared after her. And then he broke into a grin.

"I knew it would be fun to stick with you, M'Lady," he chuckled as he followed after her.

Later that evening, Sakura lay on her back.

Everyone else had gone to bed. Temari was in the room next to her's. Gaara and Kankuro shared another one further down the hall. Gaara still had nightmares, and Kankuro liked to be there just in case.

Suigetsu had gone to bed too. Mangetsu would wake him halfway through the night to switch shifts. But for now, he prowled around the wing. There were guards on duty, but neither of the brothers trusted them. Every once in a while, his shadow slid under the door as he walked past. At first, his movements had jolted her awake. She wasn't used to someone keeping such close watch. But after a few months, she was starting to find their presence comforting. Sometimes she even slept through the entire night undisturbed.

But this night, Sakura wasn't sleeping. Instead, she was staring up at the ceiling. There were thousands of stars painted in gold, mimicking the patterns of the heavens outside.

With what almost felt like a stab of guilt, she suddenly recalled a face. Not as if she had ever forgotten him. But he drifted to the front of her mind.

The plan had been to make a connection with Sasuke. The Mountain Kingdom was a powerful ally to have. With the political instability that had weakened the Forest Kingdom, its neighbors seemed unsure of how to approach them. In times of crises, it was important to know how other countries would react. Would they stand back and watch? Would they seize a moment of weakness to attack?

She had made it her mission to ingratiate herself with Sasuke. It had been easier than expected. Because under that pomposity, which was all a facade anyway, he was rather intelligent and even funny.

Prince Itachi of the Mountain Kingdom was an unexpected boon.

She saw his wrist. The beautiful jut of his bone. The shape of his fingers as they curled around the doorknob. She liked watching those hands. Elegant in their own way. They were smooth and soft, unlike hers. And she knew because she could remember the way it felt against hers as they sat in the shade of a pergola.

Sakura closed her eyes.

Her whole life, she had learned to calculate each relationship. What did they have to offer? What would they ask for in return?

Even her friendships were all weighed this way. Ino, one of her oldest friends, had gone through this evaluation as well. And Sakura was confident that Ino had done the same to her. That didn't change the fact that she liked Ino- preferred her company to that of most people she knew.

Ally. Eyes and ears. Bargaining chip. Scapegoat.

They all stacked so neatly. Like pieces she could line up on her game board.

But what was Prince Itachi of the Mountain Kingdom?

A prince with no support from his subjects. One whose own stepmother crippled with poison. Whose father remained either oblivious or uncaring. She already had the support of his brother, who had the best bid for the throne.

What purpose did he serve then?

"You look anxious. Are you alright?"

What did he have to offer?

"I wish I knew how to help."

What would he ask for in return?

"You've always looked like a giant to me."

She thought of Consort Hoki. Today's events had made it clear to Sakura that she was a consort in name. But she had little influence over the workings of the harem. From a good family. But rendered powerless because not all the right pieces had fallen into place.

She dreaded falling victim to a similar fate. It was more important now than ever that she surround herself with people of worth. Those that would move when she could not. Those that she could rely on to redirect blame should things go wrong.

As all these questions swirled together in her head, she remembered the short letter he had sent months ago. Black ink. Perfect penmanship.

I miss you terribly today. All is well. And yet nothing is well without you here.

The following morning, Sakura set her teacup down.

She graced her companion with a smile.

"Prince Baki, thank you for making the time to see me," Sakura greeted him.