by Pelaam
Bertie glowered at the geisha, convinced she was laughing behind her fan, but couldn’t keep up the pretense, and laughed out loud himself. He’d never been happier in his life.
Chapter Thirteen
For the rest of the day, Bertie busied himself helping Tom and Hayate, humming happily as he fetched and carried as directed by Hayate.
“You seem very happy.” Tom took the spanner off Bertie and continued to tighten nuts as directed by Hayate.
“I’ve had a very pleasurable afternoon.” Bertie smiled, remembering how Ichirou felt in his arms, then cleared his throat as Tom stared wide-eyed at him. “I had tea with the prince. And tomorrow he assesses the clothing I brought him. I know Madam Kana is doubtless a very talented lady, but I put my heart and soul into those pieces. I’m sure it will shine through.”
“I think the prince likes you, Bertie-san.” Hayate looked up from where he fussed at his passenger basket. “If he could, I’m sure he’d already have declared you the winner. But I don’t like his minister, Takeshi. I get a bad feeling from him.”
“Yes. Funny you should say that. I agree.” Bertie scowled. “It seems that very few actually like that man. Only his power within the court keeps him where he is.”
“Such is the way at the palace, Bertie-san. The prince may be the head, but his courtiers often are the muscles which move the neck in the direction they wish that head to take. Don’t underestimate Takeshi. If he favors your competitor, and he’s powerful at court, it will be difficult for the prince to pick you, even if he does prefer your designs.”
That was something Bertie hadn’t given any consideration, but Hayate was right. Ichirou hadn’t even felt able to spend time with him without taking precautions that they wouldn’t be seen. His spirits dropped.
“Don’t worry, Bertie.” Tom slapped Bertie’s back gently. “They are exquisite designs. The best I’ve ever seen you do. I’m sure Ichirou will pick them.”
Tom’s confidence helped Bertie feel a little better, but he remained concerned. That Takeshi could force the prince to choose Fenton hadn’t been a consideration. But there was nothing Bertie could do about it.
Whatever the decision would be, it was out of his hands.
****
Dinner was another royal banquet, but this time the seating was so arranged that Bertie and his friends were at the far end of the long table, a long way from Ichirou. Takeshi’s smile was smug as he, Felton, and Madam Kana surrounded Ichirou. At least we have Makoto close by.
A young servant stood behind Ichirou. Bertie thought he looked vaguely familiar, but couldn’t think why. He served Ichirou personally, but his gaze often flitted to Makoto, who Bertie noticed frequently looked toward the young man. Oh, how sad. Cherry Blossom loves Makoto, but it seems he has other preferences.
To Bertie’s surprise, the servant caught Bertie’s gaze, and winked at him. Then he ducked his head as Ichirou spoke to him. The servant nodded and selected a plate of delicacies which Bertie assumed were for the prince himself, however, the young man held the plate high and walked slowly down the table toward Bertie and set the dish in front of him.
“With the compliments of Ichirou-denka. Please enjoy, Blackwood-san.” The servant bowed, then looked directly at Makoto. “May I serve you, sir?”
“Yes.” Makoto listed what he wanted, and the servant nodded before hurrying away to load a plate and returned to place it before Makoto. “Thank you, Natsu. Now attend the prince. I’ll see you later.”
“Yes, Captain.” Natsu hurried away and began to select another plate of food.
As Bertie watched as Natsu selected food from plates and presented them personally to Ichirou, he suddenly realized why the servant was so familiar. “Cherry Blossom,” he whispered aloud.
“Please, Bertie-san.” Makoto’s murmur was pitched perfectly, and Bertie looked up only to see Makoto apparently engrossed in his food. “Here, he is Natsu. There must be no mention of Cherry Blossom. That is personal and private, and not for a public place such as this.”
“Sorry.” Bertie’s cheeks flamed red, but Makoto shook his head, and Bertie suddenly found his food very interesting although he’d lost his appetite.
“Please. Eat.” Makoto snapped up a few morsels of food with his chopsticks and delivered them to Bertie’s plate. “I apologize for my abruptness. But it’s for Natsu’s sake. Few know the truth. Please.”
“Of course.” Bertie ate, and studiously avoided looking at either Makoto, Natsu or Ichirou. As well-prepared and delicious as the food was, he was glad when the meal was over. As the guests rose and began to mill around, Makoto touched Bertie’s arm and indicated for him to follow.
Out in the garden, Makoto walked a short distance from the palace, turning to face not just Bertie, but the building itself.
“It wasn’t my desire to make you uncomfortable, Bertie-san. Natsu has grown up with Ichirou and they are very good friends. Natsu is an orphan, he has nothing. No family, no status. He also likes to be Cherry Blossom. I don’t understand, but I accept it, as part of him.”
“Doesn’t anyone else know?” Bertie asked. “I mean, surely Takeshi must know.”
“He isn’t interested in a young man with no status. He has his own geishas and is only annoyed that Ichirou shows no interest in any save Cherry Blossom.” Makoto sighed. “I also know how Natsu feels toward me. His … loyalty for Ichirou, and for me, is fierce. But I am a captain of the prince’s personal guard. I’m expected to take a wife, not a consort, and one of a certain social standing.”
“Unfortunately, love doesn’t care for anything of that.” Bertie shook his head. “And listening to you, my friend, your heart wars with your head.”
“It does.” Makoto nodded. “I know Ichirou would have no issue with my taking a consort, but Takeshi would be a different matter entirely. My place in the guard would be jeopardized. To be a member of the Royal Guard is a life-held desire, and to be Ichirou’s personal captain is a dream come true. I cannot abandon my prince, not even for love.”
“Do Ichirou and Natsu know this?” Bertie asked, his voice soft. He was certain they didn’t.
“No.” Makoto gave a curt shake of his head. “Ichirou would put love over duty. But someone must protect him. I have men I trust, but if I left, who would be put in my place? To whom would they be most loyal?”
“I see.” Bertie sighed. He had initially felt sorry for Natsu, or Cherry Blossom, whichever his friend wished to be. But now he saw the impossible position Makoto was in. Love and loyalty to his prince came above his own personal love and happiness. Even if both he and Natsu had to suffer. He wished there was something he could do to help.
“I’m sorry, Makoto. I understand your dilemma. But I think you should at least tell Natsu. I don’t feel it’s right to keep your true feelings hidden from him. It’s unfair that he believes he is the only one in love, and that you ignore him because of his status.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” A muscle twitched in Makoto’s jaw. The only outward sign of his inner battle. “Natsu will never look at another while he hopes we yet might—”
“Makoto don’t destroy his dreams or break his heart. You’d never forgive yourself.” Bertie interrupted, leaning in close, and dropping his voice a little lower. “Just be honest. Let him know how you feel, and about protecting Ichirou. He’ll stand by you in that respect.”
“I’ll give what you said careful consideration, Bertie-san. You’re a good man. I can see why the prince … thinks so highly of you.” Makoto inclined his head and Bertie copied the action before Makoto moved away.
“What was that all about?” Tom had sought Bertie out and his friend stood close, his voice low.
“Oh, nothing.” Bertie shook his head. “Just offering him a bit of advice for what it’s worth.”
“I thought we had a strict social hierarchy back in England.” Tom shook his head. “But here, even a prince isn’t free to choose who they want to spend their life with. I feel sorry for Prince Ichirou. He�
�ll be forced to accept a suitable princess eventually, no matter what his personal choice would be.”
The thought sent Bertie’s spirits plummeting. Although he’d known there could be nothing truly substantial between a man like him and a royal prince like Ichirou, to have it spelt out, even unintentionally, made Bertie realize just how much of an unattainable dream being with Ichirou really was.
“You all right?” Tom’s anxious tone snapped Bertie back to the present.
“Yes, yes, fine. You’re right of course. The prince will be expected to live his life a very specific way.” And it won’t be allowed to include the son of a store owner from England.
Chapter Fourteen
The next day, Bertie was woken by Keitaro, with news that made his stomach churn. Ichirou was unwell. Dressing quickly, Bertie dashed out of his room. Keitaro remained on guard as usual, but his expression was grim.
“Ichirou is not well enough to walk in the garden this morning, Bertie-san, and his decision on who to choose between you and the other one must be deferred.”
“He’s that ill?” Bertie swallowed. “Can’t I see him at all?”
“Cherry Blossom says she’ll try and arrange that you can see him. He’s asked for you, but Makoto is concerned to ensure it’s not suggested that you,” Keitaro coughed, and shuffled from foot to foot, his cheeks coloring. “You don’t take advantage of him.”
“I can imagine who put forward that notion.” A bolt of fury rocked Bertie and he clenched his hands into fists.
“I’m sorry, Bertie-san, but it was thought best you know everything.” Keitaro’s woebegone expression was enough to make Bertie take a deep breath and unclench his hands.
“Not your fault.” Bertie managed a smile. “I can imagine Takeshi and Felton made that decision. “I don’t care about the contract. Only that Ichirou is ill.”
“You are indeed a good man, Bertie-san. Put your faith in Cherry Blossom. If anyone can find a way for you to see the prince, it will be her.”
“Thank you, Keitaro.” Bertie sighed. He’d eagerly anticipated a walk in the garden, and to see Ichirou once again.
“She did say for you to have your normal stroll. Shall we go now?”
“Very well.” Bertie wondered why Cherry Blossom would be so keen for him to still take a walk, when the real purpose behind them had been to permit him to see Ichirou who wouldn’t be there.
With Keitaro at his side, Bertie was led a different way once outside. Keitaro led him through a part of the extensive gardens he’d never seen before. The trees grew taller and thicker, and the foliage denser, as if this part of the garden had been left to grow wild. Thorny plants caught at him, plucking his clothing, and giving Bertie more than one scratch as he followed the young soldier.
“Is it necessary to come this way?” Bertie asked.
“Very. Cherry Blossom insisted.” Keitaro didn’t look around, but his gaze darted right and left as they went deeper still. Then he stopped at what appeared to be a solid wall. But after pulling back the overgrown vegetation, he pressed the stonework to reveal a doorway. “This is it.”
“What’s that?” Bertie asked, peering around Keitaro’s solid build. “An old door?”
“A forgotten entrance into the palace.” Keitaro flashed a quick grin at Bertie. “Or, more accurately, a forgotten exit, according to Cherry Blossom.”
“A way into the palace. Are you sure it’s forgotten?” Bertie peered around Keitaro at the blackness beyond. “There are no guards, or magic protections?”
“Guards, no. Protection, yes. But Cherry Blossom can pass anywhere through the palace. I cannot. I’m quite low amongst the guards, so there are places that one of my rank may not freely pass. Cherry Blossom said to wait here. She will come.”
“Good.” Bertie reached for this dragon pendant. It felt warm once more, and heavier than normal. “Something feels … wrong.”
“I agree. But the palace is so well protected. Ancient mages laid down the foundations, and they have been securely built on over the years. And after all,” Keitaro looked over his shoulder at Bertie. “Who would purposely invite evil to cross the threshold? The dark ones cannot be trusted.”
“Someone who’d be willing to take such a terrible risk to get what they wanted, my friend.” Bertie sighed. I’m quite certain Takeshi would be that man. But surely even he wouldn’t be foolish enough.
“Keitaro? Are you there?” Cherry Blossom’s voice was faint but recognizable, and Keitaro leaned toward the doorway.
“We are here. Is it safe to come inside?”
“Yes, Keitaro. You and Bertram Blackwood are welcome within the palace of Prince Ichirou.” The welcome was said in the tone of an incantation, and Bertie felt a frisson of energy pass through his body.
“Follow me, Bertie-san.” Keitaro went inside.
As Keitaro passed beyond the doorway, lanterns held by stone hands, which seemingly ran the length of the stone walls of the passageway, suddenly illuminated. They gave off soft light allowing Bertie to see his way.
The moment Bertie was inside, the door swung shut behind him, and he now saw the symbols that covered it. Cherry Blossom was already well ahead of them.
“Hurry. I don’t want to leave Ichi-chan alone for long. Takeshi has already visited twice, pushing for him to simply declare the contract will go to Felton Coleman to save Ichirou needing to exert himself.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” Bertie grumbled darkly as he trotted behind Keitaro. The passageway wound sinuously, occasionally Bertie felt sure they were walking up an incline, at other times, down again. Finally, they reached a set of stone stairs spiraling upward.
To Bertie’s relief, once they reached the top, they emerged into the main palace. With Cherry Blossom to lead the way, they quickly reached Ichirou’s private wing. Within a few minutes, Makoto was waving them inside Ichirou’s suite of rooms, while Cherry Blossom waited outside, glancing all around as they hurried past her, ensuring no one else saw them before dashing inside.
“Ichirou specifically asked for you, Bertie-san, but Takeshi said it would not be proper for you to see him while he is in bed.” Makoto drew himself to his full height. “Personally, if my prince wishes you at his side, I see no reason to deny him. But you must be circumspect, and remember, you may have to leave very quickly.”
“I understand.” Bertie nodded.
“Through here, Bertie-san.” Cherry Blossom waved at him and dodged behind a set of gauzy curtains.
Not wasting a precious second, Bertie hurried after her and emerged in Ichirou’s private bedroom. For a second, Bertie could hardly catch his breath, his heart constricting at the sight of the prince. Ichirou lay on his bed, dark circles beneath his eyes.
“Ichirou.” Cherry Blossom leaned in close and whispered to the sleeping prince. “Bertie is here to see you.” She waved Bertie over and he perched gingerly at the side of the bed.
“Bertie.” Ichirou opened his eyes and managed a weak smile. “You came to me.”
“Of course I did. Did you doubt I would?” Bertie took hold of Ichirou’s hand, which was cold to the touch.
“Takeshi—” Ichirou began, but Bertie didn’t want to hear it. Without thinking, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Ichirou’s.
“Don’t even think about him.” Bertie gazed down at Ichirou, pleased to see a little color had crept into the prince’s cheeks. “What does your physician say?”
“They don’t know. Oh, Bertie. I had such a terrible dream. I saw eyes at the bottom of my bed, and I couldn’t move. They belonged to a huge cat. It stretched out over me, its weight, it was so heavy, it pressed me into the bed, and I could hardly breathe.”
“It was just a bad dream, Ichi-chan.” Bertie tenderly pushed back the tendrils of dark hair that lay on Ichirou’s brow.
“But it felt so real, Bertie.” Ichirou clutched at Bertie’s hand. “All I could think of was you. I wished you were here.”
“I wish I could be here, lo�
��” Bertie checked himself quickly. “I wish the same, Ichi-chan.” He took hold of Ichirou’s hands, willing some heat into them.
“All Takeshi really cares about is my announcing the contract will go to Felton Coleman. I told him that no decision would be made while I was ill.” Despite everything, Ichirou managed to look determined and Bertie smiled.
“Look, I can’t be here, but make sure someone can. Promise me.” Bertie squeezed Ichirou’s hands.
“But who? Takeshi wouldn’t permit Cherry Blossom, since she is … well, Cherry Blossom, and Natsu is too low in status to be allowed anywhere but outside my door.”
“Keitaro.” Bertie nodded. “He’s a soldier. Surely he could stay with you. Or Makoto. I’d rather it was someone you had faith in, that you could trust. Not someone picked by Takeshi.”
“I dislike Takeshi intensely, and I always believed that the feeling was mutual.” A tiny frown tugged at Ichirou’s brow. “But for the sake of the province, I also assumed he would simply try and frustrate any attempt at progress I tried to make. I never considered that he might resort to anything designed to remove me.”
“He wouldn’t.” For a moment, Bertie was too aghast at the notion to think straight. Then he remembered Keitaro’s feeling something was wrong within the palace. “Or perhaps, he would.”
“I feel better with you here, Bertie. And I shall do as you wish. I will have someone stay with me tonight. Someone, as you say, that I trust.”
“Another thing. Have a trusted chef cook your meals. If you’re going to eat on your own.” Bertie stroked a hand down Ichirou’s pale cheek. “Just to be safe.”
“I shall. My childhood cook is still here. I shall have Cherry Blossom visit her and ensure that she, and she alone, prepares my meals today. I hope to be better tomorrow.”
“Bertie. Takeshi is coming. You need to go. If I can, I’ll smuggle you back later, but you need to be seen in and around the palace to avoid his suspicion.”
“I barely know the man and I dislike him intensely. I swear, Ichi-chan, if you come to harm—”