While Beauty Sleeps (Once Upon a Harem Book 7)

by Ripley Proserpina

The Ferris wheel towered above the city, growing larger and larger as we approached the shore and the amusement park built right up to the water. The driver was someone I hadn’t met before, but she had adopted the same disinterested, absent style other guards around my home had. It was like they were present, but couldn’t hear or see us until we needed them.

  It had always bothered me. Probably because so many people, my parents, the people who worked for us, they stared right past me. I was a ghost in my house, part of the family, but—not.

  “Thank you,” I told the driver before we left.

  She glanced over her shoulder at me and nodded. “You’re welcome, Your Highness.”

  Reiji had my hand in his and he urged me to the door. In the space of a breath, I emerged into the bright afternoon light, completely exposed.

  Even with my sunglasses, the difference between the tinted and shaded car and the outside was overwhelming. I blinked rapidly to adjust my sight, but the only thing keeping me from diving back into the car was Reiji’s hand in mine, and then, because he was blocking the door, Dai’s body behind mine.

  “There it is.” Goro shut the door. His head craned back as he took in the size of the Ferris wheel. “I hate to admit it, but I’m with Wataru on this one. Why does it have to be so big?”

  Wataru groaned, but then cut off the sound. I glanced over my shoulder and caught the pink on his cheeks. He pushed his sunglasses up his nose and lifted his hand to his head, but he’d tied his hair back.

  “Let’s build up to the Ferris wheel,” I said. “There are plenty of other things to do.”

  He nodded and Reiji squeezed my hand. “Let’s go,” he said and dragged me toward the entrance. Goro went ahead to buy our tickets, and then we were in line. People walked by us, pointing to the Ferris wheel while they spoke. I watched them as much as I studied our surroundings. Who would recognize me? A man with a phone taking a selfie was a potential threat. Or maybe the person who would end my trip was the woman with a camera, taking pictures of families as they stood in front of the amusement park mascot.

  If it hadn’t been for Reiji pulling me forward, I would have dug my heels in. The world suddenly felt too big, and the people rushing around me, dangerous and mean.

  No. Be brave. This might be the only time I was out of my house before the second part of my curse kicked in. I wasn’t stupid, my parents would find out about me sneaking out, and they’d have me on lockdown until I fell into my eternal slumber.

  I sucked in a breath, pushing away fear and focusing on my excitement.

  I would enjoy today.

  My little corner of the city had me forgetting how big Sara was. Even though it was an archipelago, each island had a lot of people, and the main island, Sara, had the most. Glittering buildings stretched toward the sky, blocking the sun in places and reflecting it directly into my eyes at others. Here, the ocean stretched behind the park, and though I’d suggested waiting to go onto the Ferris wheel, I couldn’t wait to see the island from up high.

  Crowds of people shouldered past me, oblivious to who I was. These were the people my family served, and I suddenly realized how disconnected I was from them.

  The next person who glanced at me received a wave. I didn’t care if they were the paparazzi in disguise. They stared for a moment in confusion before hurrying away. I waved to the next person, and the next until Wataru stepped in front of me. “I hate to stop you, but I’m worried you’re drawing too much attention to yourself,” he said.

  Oh.

  I supposed I was. Self-consciously, I touched my hat and scarf. They still covered me.

  “You’re fine.” Dai rested his strong hand against my back in support. “If you want to wave, wave.”

  I did, but Wataru was right, and not only was my safety at risk, but the princes’ as well. Still, Dai’s acceptance of what I’d done made butterflies flutter in my belly.

  I thought about my dowry, and I knew I’d made the right decision giving them my inheritance. At every turn, they proved to me how honorable, and wonderful, they were.

  Dai kept his hand on my back and with my hand in Reiji’s, I felt like the luckiest cursed princess in the world.

  “Where are we going first?” Goro asked before he skidded to a stop. “There! Kumiko, look!” He pointed to an area with games. “I want to win you a friend for Mopsy.” Bunnies were tacked to the wall like grotesque trophies. They were nothing like Mopsy. These were larger, whiter, and with their oversized buckteeth, more frightening than my childhood toy. “Can we go there?” Goro spun and pinned me with an entreating stare. “Please?”

  His eyes danced and he rocked onto his toes before giving a little bounce as if his excitement was too much to contain. I giggled and felt an answering excitement well up inside me. “Yes,” I said and I may have bounced on my toes, too. “But I want to win one for you as well.”

  Goro smiled, flashing dimples at me. “All right,” he said.

  The game was simple. Throw a dart and pop a balloon to win a prize. Goro went first, laying down his cash to accept five darts. He lined up his shot by closing one eye. Dart held between his fingers, he drew back his arm and gave a little practice flick before releasing it.

  His dart bounced off the side of the balloon. Undeterred, he threw the next, but it didn’t pierce the balloon. It should have; it hit dead center, but it bounced harmlessly to the ground.

  The smile gracing Goro’s face disappeared. Now, his lips were tight and his skin pale. The next time he threw the dart, and the next, and finally, the last, the dart bounced off the balloon.

  “It’s not you, Goro,” Reiji said. He released my hand and clapped Goro on the shoulder. “They’re designed to be impossible to win.”

  Goro didn’t answer and when he turned, he didn’t look at me.

  “What do you mean, they’re impossible to win?” I asked. Goro had been so excited and happy a moment ago. What sort of horrible place designed unwinnable games?

  “I don’t know,” Reiji answered. “It’s just the way it is.”

  No. That wasn’t fair. I opened the small purse I’d worn across my body and withdrew my cash, plunking it on the table. The person manning the game set five darts in front of me, and I held them close to my face. The tips were dull and rounded. No wonder Goro hadn’t been able to pierce the latex. I bet if I jammed it into my hand, it’d bounce off my skin.

  “This is cheating,” I said to the man and held up the darts. “It’s not fair.” He shrugged, but his sweaty face seemed to get shinier.

  “It’s fine,” Goro said. “Let’s go somewhere else.” Hands on his hips, he stared at the ground.

  No one could win this game. Not even the strongest, best dart player. Part of me wanted to climb over the barrier and stab the balloon until it popped, but I was certain that would be what Wataru had called drawing attention to myself.

  I drummed my fingers against the wooden top. Goro didn’t believe Reiji when he said the game was designed for people to lose, and I couldn’t let him walk away from here feeling like a failure.

  Dai wrapped his hand around mine, extracting the darts from my hand. “My turn.”

  He threw the first, and just like Goro’s it bounced off the balloon. The second dart did the same, and he swore. Goro glanced up and began to watch him. Dai rolled up his sleeves, and from the way the muscles flexed in his arms and the force with which he threw, he was really trying to pop the balloon.

  But each dart glanced off.

  Reiji went next, his turn ending like Goro and Dai’s. By the time Wataru came up, Goro’s good humor had returned. Now the four of them shouldered each other, knocking into Wataru and teasing him. When the last dart was thrown, Goro laughed as loud as the others, his dimples in full view, and his smile genuine.

  “What about this one?” Goro asked, as we continued through the park. He pointed to a water gun game. There were more giant, ugly bunnies pinned to the wall. It warmed my heart that he wanted to win one for me, but I couldn�
��t handle seeing him beaten down by rigged games again.

  “It’s a really big bunny,” I said. “I can’t ask the guards to hold it.” I suddenly stopped and glanced over my shoulder, but like I’d told them earlier, the guards were really good at blending in. I couldn’t identify one. “And where would I put it while we were on the Ferris wheel?” That wasn’t a lie either. If he’d won the bunny, I’d have proudly carried it through the park.

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Goro said. “You’re right. Maybe at the end.”

  “Good plan,” Wataru said to him and slowed enough to take up a spot next to me while Reiji and Goro strode in front of us. His pinky curled around mine, startling me. When I side-eyed him, he winked. He’d caught onto my half-truths, but he wouldn’t give me away.

  If I thought Wataru would release me, I was wrong. Instead, he adjusted his grip until my hand was held in his. My heart thudded in my chest. Each one of these guys hadn’t balked at touching me. I wasn’t used to this much affection and I soaked it up like water in the desert. We came to the edge of the park, the place where the rides nearly touched the ocean and where some were even designed to fly over the water.

  I wanted to ride on the swings that lifted into the air and spun like a whirlwind. I stood, face tipped to the sky, as the people on the ride screamed and laughed. Their hair whipped around their faces as the ride spun faster and faster. Some of them squealed and I laughed in response.

  “You want to go on that one?” Goro asked me.

  I did.

  But I couldn’t.

  My hat and scarf wouldn’t stay in place, and if I lost them, I’d be out of luck. The reminder of my tenuous obscurity had me glancing over my shoulder. All it took was one person looking closely, examining the five of us. So many people took photographs of themselves and their friends. One online post, one location tag, and we were done.

  The princes and I worked on borrowed time and I refused to do anything to cut down on that time, so I shook my head.

  Nearby was a slow moving roller coaster clearly designed for children. The cart moved sedately along the rail. “That one.” I pointed. “Can we go there?” It was still close to the water, even if it wasn’t as exciting as the swing.

  Goro studied me. “The swing is moving too fast,” he said, figuring it out.

  “Damn,” Dai whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  Rather than answer, I hurried toward the ride. Wataru held my hand and he trailed behind me. The line was short, probably because most kids were at home having dinner and for the teenagers and adults out and about, it would be too slow.

  Two of us fit to a cart. I thought I’d end up with Wataru, but at the last minute, he stepped aside to let Goro slide next to me. Wataru and Reiji went in front of me, and Dai ended up by himself behind us.

  With a clatter and jerk, we began to move. Goro rested his arm across the back as the cars were dragged up the rail.

  “Thank you,” he said, cupping my shoulder.

  I turned to him, drawing my eyebrows together. “For what?” I asked.

  “The darts,” he said. “It bothered you that I didn’t win…and you were angry on my behalf.”

  I resisted the urge to lay my head on his arm. “It’s not fair to anyone,” I said. “They shouldn’t cheat.”

  “I agree,” he said and then cleared his throat. “I was embarrassed.”

  The roller coaster began its first descent—a gentle roll that went up and down, running parallel to the beach. I moved as much as possible to face him, but the bar across my lap kept me from seeing more than his profile. “Why?”

  “I wanted to win for you. And I’m not—” His face flushed and he frowned. He lifted his hand to his face, as if to push his glasses up his nose and then remembered they weren’t there. Awkwardly, he rested it on the bar before meeting my eyes. “I’m not—” He stopped, but I thought I understood what he was trying to say. “The others are athletic and strong…did you know Reiji is a soccer player? If he didn’t have to focus all his attention on government work, he’d probably be a professional.”

  I didn’t know that about him. We had, after all, only known each other for two days. Except it didn’t feel like two days. It felt like two days and a lifetime.

  “I didn’t.” We were on the other side of the coaster now, inland. I could make out the tops of people’s heads as they walked by, unaware. Or at least I hoped they were unaware. “What do you like to do?” I asked. Goro hinted about the other princes’ interests and strengths to distract me from what he’d revealed about himself. But I knew this trick, I did it myself.

  Patiently, I waited for him to speak, and as if he sensed I wasn’t giving in, he finally spoke. “I don’t like team sports,” he said. He stared at the people below us now, too. A muscle flexed in his cheek and he glanced at me quickly and then away.

  “I like to swim,” he said. “And read. I play chess. Most of my time is spent on homework and preparing myself for government.”

  “Swimming is athletic!” Why was he so quick to put himself down? “And I love chess. Maybe we can play later.” I touched my scarf and hat to be sure they were in place, and let my head rest on him the way I wanted.

  Goro moved his arm from the back of the cart to my shoulders and squeezed, drawing me a little closer under his arm. “I’d like that,” he said. We were on the ocean side of the roller coaster now.

  “I can’t swim,” I told him and he stared at me in shock. “I know. We live on an island. My sisters can’t swim either.”

  “But you wanted to go to Minna beach,” he said.

  “I do!” I replied. “I can go in without swimming, though. I want to feel the water and look for shells.”

  “We can teach you to swim,” he said. “My friends and I. We’re all good swimmers.”

  I didn’t see how such a thing would be possible, so I shrugged. It was a nice idea, but I couldn’t swim with a hat and scarf. The only sound for a while was the shake and clank of the roller coaster. Apparently that was our last loop, because it rolled to a stop and the safety bar released.

  “What’s next?” Goro asked as he held my hand to help me out of the cart. “Dinner?”

  “Sure,” I said. “If you’re hungry.”

  “We’re always hungry,” Dai said. “But how will we manage it?”

  I’d done some research before we came here, and I knew there was a dessert avenue along the food stalls. I’d wrapped my scarf twice, and with a straw pushed between the folds, I could have a milkshake for dinner. Then, if I was still hungry when I got home later, I could have something more substantial. But this way, I wouldn’t stand out when they ate.

  A bright flash from the corner of my eye made me twist my head to find the source, but Goro put his arm around my waist. I tried to shake my unease as we began to stroll toward the food. Dai took my hand and immediately unease made way for the butterflies to return with a vengeance.

  When I pulled up short in front of the ice cream tent, Dai gave me a crooked smile. It was going to be easy to fall in love with them. My body heated and I blew out a deep breath to get ahold of myself. I was more than halfway there already. Except, and the thought drew me up short, I was falling for all of them.

  And that couldn’t be right.

  “…our treat,” Dai was saying. He lifted his eyebrows, as if he was waiting for me to go on, and when I didn’t said, “What do you want, Kumiko? They have cherry blossom milkshakes.”

  “Yes,” I answered. “That’s what I want.” I had no idea what it would taste like, but when would I have another chance to try it?

  Dai told Wataru, who was placing our orders, and a moment later he turned around with five huge cups. Dai took two and Goro and Reiji reached for theirs.

  “There are tables,” Goro said, glancing over his shoulder at me. “Do you want to sit?”

  There weren’t many people at the umbrella-shaded picnic tables around. This area would probably be busier after dark. “Yes,” I an
swered and followed him to a picnic table.

  Dai handed me my milkshake, and carefully, I threaded the straw between two folds and sipped it. It did have a slightly flowery flavor, but the cherries overpowered it. Above us, the Ferris wheel dipped and spun. I tracked its progress, squinting to see the couples and friends seated in the boxes. More than one had a lip-locked couple, who, when they opened their eyes, didn’t give the scenery a glance. The intensity with which they took in the other person overwhelmed me, and a small worm of jealousy wiggled inside me. With a sigh, I went back to my milkshake.

  “Too high?” Wataru asked. “We don’t want to ride it if you’ve changed your mind.” He couldn’t keep the hopeful note out of his voice.

  “Nope,” I answered. “I want to go. But you can hold my hand if you want,” I joked.

  “I’m going to have to,” he muttered, eyes tracking the wheel. He spun on the seat and pitched his shake into a barrel. “I should probably wait to eat,” he said.

  I took another sip of my shake and giggled. As I glanced up, I caught a table of people staring at us. Instinctively, I dropped my gaze to the table, but something about them bothered me. Their gazes were too sharp to be curious. Confident they couldn’t see my eyes behind my sunglasses, I peered at them again.

  One of the men tapped on his phone as he watched me, and then lifted the phone to his ear. He had a conversation while staring at me, and even with my mirrored glasses, I got the feeling he knew I was watching him, too.

  “Let’s go,” Dai said, and plucked my shake from my hands. He dropped both of them into a bin and took my hand to help me to stand.

  Wataru stood quickly, and Goro and Reiji did the same.

  “I don’t like the look of those people,” Goro said and Reiji narrowed his eyes.

  “They’ve been staring at us for the last few minutes,” Reiji added, wrapping his arm around my shoulders to turn me away from them. “Wataru, let the driver know we’re leaving. Do you see the guards, Dai?”

  “I don’t know what they look like,” Dai replied. “Wataru, tell the driver we’ll need the guards.”

  I didn’t argue, but I did glance over my shoulder. One man now held up his phone in my direction. The scarf was in place, but I made sure, touching my fingertips to the silk. A smile spread on the guy’s face, and I knew, I’d been recognized. How—who knows? Money was a great incentive, and all it took was one servant to let it slip to his friends and family that the ugly princess had not one new prince, but four, visiting.