While Beauty Sleeps (Once Upon a Harem Book 7)

by Ripley Proserpina

  “No,” I answered and yanked the tie from the end of the braid. My fingers slipped through my hair before I dropped my head in my hands. This sucked. It sucked.

  Stupid curse.

  Stupid witch.

  Stupid everything.

  I allowed myself ten seconds of self-pity, each count paired with a breath. The first five were shaky, but by six, I’d gotten myself under control and lifted my head.

  “Okay. I’m finished. Tell me about Aoi’s princes.”

  3

  Wataru

  My friends were idiots. “You can’t bring the cat,” I told Goro. He held the orange tabby up to his face, rubbing his nose across the animal’s pink nose.

  “I can’t leave him here,” Goro said, cradling the cat like a baby. “Can I?” He smiled down at the cat, dimples deepening in his thin face. His glasses slipped down his nose and he nudged them up with his shoulder. “No, I can’t.”

  “We won’t be gone that long,” Dai called by the door. He held a suitcase in his hand. Most people would extend the handle and roll it outside, but not Dai. Like everything, he preferred to use brute strength to get things done. “This is a stupid idea.”

  It took all my control not to nod in agreement. Everyone in Sara knew the story about the cursed princess. Of course, most of us believed she just happened to be an ugly girl whose parents had come up with a wild story to make excuses for her looks. No pictures had ever been released of the royal family’s youngest, but the stories about her face?

  They were legend.

  Reiji slapped a stupid looking fur hat on his head. “I don’t know what to think, but I hope this isn’t a waste of time. Aoi wasn’t lying. Maybe we’ll be able to help. And if there really is a curse, and one of us breaks it, the royal family will reward us.”

  “You’re making a lot of assumptions, my friend,” Dai replied. “Aoi never promised us anything.”

  Aoi. The princess’s sister. None of us had known who she was when she’d sat next me in one of our business classes. Aoi was a common enough name around the Saran islands and it wasn’t like she had bodyguards or wore a tiara. Though, perhaps I should have known by the posture and the way she had of looking down her nose at us. Her disapproving looks could rival my grandmother’s.

  Given time to think about Aoi and her revelations, I couldn’t help but believe she’d sought us out. I still wasn’t sold on the curse, but Aoi certainly seemed to buy into it.

  My sister’s time is limited and I need your help.

  I had a business to run, and an island of citizens to consider. Times had changed and maybe my family, and the families of my closest friends, didn’t rule with absolute power, but our island, Iriogaki, was still our responsibility.

  Generations of rule by four separate, though minor, royal families had drained our island’s resources. Was it a little cold-blooded to agree to meet this poor, ugly princess because we thought we’d get something out of it?

  Probably.

  But that’s how it went. Our island wasn’t a tourist destination, or a tax haven for the wealthy elite, and we needed revenue. Curse or not, the king and queen had more money than any other royal, and maybe they could pass some of that wealth down to us.

  And we in turn would pass it onto our island’s citizens.

  “I think this sucks.” Goro placed the cat on the sofa before swinging a backpack onto his back. “I feel like a worm. This poor girl. We’re just going to trick her into falling in love with us?”

  “We’re not going to trick her,” I answered quickly. “We’ll see if we feel anything for each other. Get to know her. Who knows, she could be the future Mrs. Goro.”

  Goro winced. “I’m not looking to get married.”

  Reiji glanced out the window toward the street, knocking the hat on the curtain as he straightened. “Car’s here,” he said, straightening it.

  Dai opened the door and shoved his arms into his suit jacket. “Let’s go.” As Reiji passed him, Dai knocked the hat off his head. “It’s spring, dumbass. Leave the fur cap at home.”

  Goro picked it up, handed it to Reiji and I sighed. If we were trying to impress someone, a princess someone, we needed to get our act together. This comedy of backslapping and tripping wasn’t going to do it.

  “We need a plan,” Dai whispered as I lifted my bag over my shoulder.

  “I know,” I answered, watching Goro and Reiji scuttle toward the car. “Otherwise this is a waste of time.”

  “It could be a waste of time anyway,” Dai said. “This girl, what was her name?”

  “Kumiko,” I answered.

  “Kumiko—she’s got to know why these princes keep showing up at her door. Somehow we’re supposed to be different? I’ve read about her. There are paparazzi all over the place trying to catch a photograph of her face. Remember the prince who saw her?”

  Goro and Reiji were waiting for us now, staring through the car window. Reiji touched his watch and held up his hands.

  “Prince Eziō.” I’d met the guy years ago and he was a world class asshole. “I read it.”

  “Wataru, he was freaked. Whatever he saw when he looked at the princess horrified him. I’ve heard he’s not been the same since.” Dai narrowed his dark eyes and smoothed one hand down his coat. It was a nervous tell. What we were about to do didn’t sit well with any of us. It was too mercenary—too emotionless.

  But our island… I thought about the crumbling roads and closed bridges that we were too poor to fix, even with money from the central government. Our schools were a mess, and the teacher turnover rate astronomical.

  “We’re about to prostitute ourselves to an ugly rich girl,” Dai stated. He yanked on the car door handle with more force than was necessary.

  I wanted to deny it, but he’d laid out the bare bones facts. We were headed to meet Princess Kumiko to make her fall in love with one of us in the hope her parents would be so grateful to us, they’d pay us off.

  Without answering, I opened the back door of the car, sliding it so I could get inside. Goro and Reiji watched me, but I couldn’t meet their eyes. This was my idea, and if it all went to shit, it would be all my fault.

  4

  Kumiko

  Three days passed without a replacement prince, and I couldn’t help but enjoy the freedom it gave me. Right now, I didn’t have anyone to hang my hopes on while simultaneously knowing they would eventually let me down.

  I’d ordered new sheet music and placed it on the stand above the piano. My fingers sought out the right keys. Left hand in my lap, I began following the notes for the right hand, slowly playing each note.

  It’s what’s inside you that matters… Miori’s voice echoed through my mind.

  Bullshit. If that was what really mattered, then the very first prince who’d come here, the one from so many years ago I’d fallen head over heels in love with, would have loved me back.

  My face wouldn’t have mattered.

  I hit the keys on the piano harder than I meant to and my fingers slipped. Jarring, discordant notes sounded through my room.

  Stupid curse.

  Stupid witch.

  Stupid magic.

  “Knock knock.” The door to my room opened and my beautiful elder sister, Aoi, appeared in the doorway. Her hair was braided on either side of her head and woven with yellow ribbons to bring out the gold in her skin. “Hey, piglet.”

  “Hey,” I replied, frowning at the nickname she’d given me as a child. She promised she hadn’t given it to me because I had a pig’s snout. No snout. No pig tail. But as a baby I did get food all over my face when I ate, so the name stuck.

  She walked inside slowly, carefully, like she was afraid I’d attack her.

  She knew me too well.

  I waited until she was a foot away and she lowered her guard before I rocketed off the piano bench to enfold her in a backbreaking hug. Aoi hugged me back just as tightly, and kissed my temple. “What’s the matter, baby sister?”

  I sighed
and leaned my head on her shoulder. Most girls went to their moms for comfort, but for me, it’d always been Aoi. No one understood me like she did. No one else had the perfect balance of honesty and compassion. It was to Aoi I ran when my heart was broken, or when I read the words of Prince Eziō online after he’d bolted out of our house. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too. Did the girls tell you who I was bringing back?”

  If I had one complaint about Aoi, it was this—she never gave me enough time. I didn’t want to start the whole meet and greet thing over again. I wanted to be left alone.

  Stepping away, I fixed my gaze on the piano. I reached out, touching the keys and pressed down softly. “They did.”

  “They’re really cute.”

  I shrugged. I didn’t really care about cute. Objectively, I recognized which princes had been handsome, but it was secondary to what really mattered—would they like me?

  As long as my sisters reeled them here with the promise of riches, then I’d never really trust them. And as long as they ran like gazelles when they saw my face, I’d know however much they grew to like me, it didn’t cancel out my ugliness.

  All the money in the world didn’t matter. It certainly hadn’t been enough for Eziō or Hideto.

  “How much are you offering?” I asked and Aoi winced. Striding back to the bench, I tried to ignore the bubbling anger welling in my chest. “How much, Aoi?”

  “You’re getting closer to twenty-one.” As if I didn’t know that. As if my birthday wasn’t circled in red with huge arrows pointing at the date that grew closer and closer.

  “How. Much?”

  “Fuyumi, Miori, and I all added our trusts to the dowry.” I’d read about people’s knees going weak, but I’d never experienced it before. Now I did. They wouldn’t hold me up, and if it hadn’t been for the piano bench, I would have fallen.

  “You didn’t.”

  “We don’t need it.” Aoi shrugged again, like it was no big deal. But this money was supposed to pay for whatever it was they wanted to do with their lives—school, vocation, travel. It was enough to get them started or to sock away for their children.

  And grandchildren, depending on how financially savvy they were.

  Either way, it was way too much money to give away.

  “It doesn’t work that way, you know,” I said. I tried to keep the self-pity out of my voice, but it trembled before I could clear my throat. “It’s supposed to be true love’s kiss. Not, ‘makes sound financial decision’s kiss.’ Not, ‘takes one for the team’s kiss.’”

  Aoi had the sense to be embarrassed. “I know.”

  “They won’t stay. They never stay.” Heat rose along my neck and into my face. I knew, if I looked at myself in the mirror, my skin would be flushed. Aoi glanced away from me, small nose wrinkling and I wondered what it was she saw. How much more hideous was I when I was angry?

  Four breaths later, I had myself under control. “When do they arrive?”

  “Today,” she answered, and I sighed.

  “Stupid curse.”

  “So many magical stipulations.” Aoi joined me on the piano bench and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “We did the best we could.”

  I nodded because I knew they had. My sisters, though powerful, hadn’t been fast enough to stop the witch who cursed tiny, baby me. Then again, they were children themselves and hadn’t even realized they had magic until the witch got me.

  “So any minute now?” I asked.

  Aoi blushed. “Actually, they’re downstairs. I came up to let you know.”

  Groaning, I let my head fall into my hands. “Aoi!”

  “Why wait?” she asked. “And you’ll like them. They’re nice guys. Really nice. They wouldn’t have come if I hadn’t asked them to.”

  I lifted my head and raised an eyebrow.

  “What?” she asked, eyes widening with a look of feigned innocent. “I think it’s a point in their favor that it was only after I asked them that they agreed to come.”

  “Fine.” I huffed out a breath and crossed my arms over my chest before anxiety made me stand and pace the room. Despite having a face that frightened grown men, I took care with my clothes. Today I’d chosen tights decorated with bicycles and paired it with a vintage dress and short-sleeved cardigan. I’d spent extra time on my hair, because what else did I have to do? It was curled and styled so it fell in waves over my shoulder.

  If anyone could see what I truly looked like today, maybe they’d have been impressed.

  “Bring them up.” I sat on the low bench in front of the two-way mirror and rested my head on my palm. “Might as well get this over with.”

  Aoi kissed my head before passing by me. “I have a good feeling about this,” she said before she left.

  I didn’t answer, just waited.

  A short time later, Aoi led two men into the room. My attention was on my sister, and I pressed the button that would allow me to hear them when I saw her lips moving.

  “…Get comfortable,” she was saying. “I’ll let her know you’re here.”

  My finger slipped off the button as I examined the men who’d followed her inside. They were not what I expected.

  Judge much?

  It shocked me, how the years had formed me into this person who judged others before they’d spoken a word. I was as bad as any of the other princes who’d come, thinking themselves smart and brave, to break my curse and collect my dowry.

  But upon first glance—these two weren’t like the others. For one thing, the taller of the two wore the stupidest hat I’d ever seen on a Saran. It was springtime, the weather warmish, but here he was, clad in a fur cap and wearing a Members Only jacket. Giggling, I leaned a little closer to the mirror. This man’s face was expressive. Each comment Aoi made was met with a raised eyebrow, a turn of lips, a wrinkled nose. It was fascinating.

  Releasing the audio, I propped my elbows on the edge of the mirror and stared at him. Disbelief. Confusion. Annoyance. It all flashed across his features as clear as if he simply spoke the words.

  I pressed the button again when he began to speak. “The princess is there?” He jerked a thumb toward the mirror and my face heated. Not one of the other princes had noticed the mirror until it was explicitly stated they could talk to me through it. “Bit of a double standard, don’t you think?” this man went on.

  He was right. I could see him, but he couldn’t see me. In my defense, there was a very good reason for it. Without giving myself time to change my mind, I pushed the output button and spoke up. “If you saw me, you’d be out the door before I could say hello.”

  He jumped, but smiled toward the mirror. When I spoke, the other man, the one without a hat, stepped a little closer to the mantel over which the mirror was framed. “Hello.” He cleared his throat and smiled, two deep dimples appearing on either side of his mouth. Pushing up the round glasses on his face, he got closer and stood on his tiptoes. He lifted a hand over his eyes to block the light and peered into the mirror. “Hi.”

  I couldn’t help it. I laughed. His greeting was artless but so genuine I didn’t know what to do. “Hello.”

  “My name is Goro,” he said and stepped back to put his hand over his heart and bow. “The man in the stupid hat is Reiji.”

  The aforementioned man ripped it off his head and stuck it under his arm before giving a short, jerky bow. “Hello.”

  “I would apologize for the mirror,” I said, swallowing the bubble of laughter in my throat. “But then we never would have gotten this far.”

  Goro shrugged and leaned closer again.

  “You won’t see me,” I told him. My cheeks started to ache from smiling. “I’ve made sure. My sisters and I have done what you’re doing now. And the most you’ll see is my shadow.”

  Goro lifted a long, graceful finger, waggling it in front of the glass as if tracking my movement. I slid from one side of the bench and it followed me. Biting my lip, I slid to the other side and it tracked me there.<
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  “Oh well.” He dropped his hand to his side, fingers tapping against his leg. “Maybe later.”

  The reminder of the inevitable conclusion of this interaction made me stop smiling immediately. As soon as he saw me, he’d be out the door.

  “Your sister told us about your curse,” Reiji called. Goro waved his hand at him to step closer, but he stayed in place next to Aoi. As he spoke, he lifted his eyebrows. “How do we know this isn’t a joke?”

  Aoi’s face flushed, pink chasing away the gold in her cheeks. “What?”

  “A curse?” Reiji’s eyes widened. “A princess? Magic? A witch?”

  Almost as if of its own volition, my hand went to my face, tracing over my nose and cheekbones. After a moment I flicked the output button so I wouldn’t have to hold it down while I talked to them. “I understand. Believe me. No one wishes more than me that this whole thing was a fairy tale with a happy ending.”

  Goro choked and I wondered what I said to make him look as if he was suffocating. “I apologize.” He waved that graceful hand again. “Continue.”

  “I won’t show you my face, though,” I continued after Goro’s color went from red to gold again. “But…” Aoi knew what I was getting at. Other princes had had the same doubts. I think it took years for my own parents to truly believe what their daughters were capable of.

  Aoi lifted her hand and stared at her palm. Slowly, as if she pulled the light from the sun itself, a golden ball formed. She tossed it into the air once and caught it before calling out. “Reiji.” She threw it to him and he caught it. His expression didn’t disappoint. He held the ball of light in his hand, lifting the other hand to cup it. The light reflected in his eyes, and his mouth dropped open.

  A long breath left him as he tossed it into the air and caught it. He did it again, and laughed. “Incredible.”

  “My turn.” Goro clapped his hands once and held them out. With a small frown, Reiji tossed him the ball, his empty hands immediately going to his hair to thread through the short black strands.