Princess from a Peasant, (Edoa)

[Renna]

Mirai was new to this waterfall-ringed city, but already she loved its market. Meryssa's central marketplace was one of the largest in Erenor, thanks to the many waterways leading in and out of Adesia's capital. The world gathered together here, and in the bright morning sunshine it seemed a very light and beautiful world indeed. The healer girl couldn't help but skip her way forward, for she smelled cinnamon and cloves in the air and could already see sun glinting off of metal and silks. In her apron pocket Rifka squealed a protest, but Mirai paid no mind to her grouchy little familiar. The hedgehog liked to make a fuss, but her mistress knew full well that nose and whiskers were trembling in anticipation of all the tasty little tidbits marketgoers left behind. Hedgehog and maid made their way down the wide street into the very center of the market place, pausing in the great plaza to gaze around her wide-eyed. After an appropriate time of awed observation, the girl crouched down, reaching in her pocket to balance Rifka out on the palm of her hand. "All right, you know I have errands to run--and I want to look at the dresses. You can go straight to the cheese stall, right? Just be careful of dogs and boots, and meet me right by that statue of the warriors when the sun touches that minaret over there. All right?"

Her question was met by enthusiastic squeaking, and when Mirai lowered her hand to the earth Rifka was off like a shot.

This left the girl alone, and while Mirai knew that she needed bread and cheese and meat and fruit, she went straight to the milliner's store and the booth outside. Meryssa had finer goods by far than the smaller towns she and Alagos had been living in up to this point, and the gowns were no exception. The dresses on display in the window were enough to make any maiden sigh with envy, and sigh they did! Mirai certainly wasn't the only one staring up at the glass with longing in her eyes, for the display shone with rainbows of silks and gems and shimmering magics. The healer stared up at a glowing blue-green gown and pressed her hand to the glass, but she and the other girls did not have much longer to stare. There was a blare of trumpets behind, and they turned as one to see a golden coach stop right in front of them, between the splashing fountain and the beautiful dresses. All the young ladies gasped and huddled together, poking each other and whispering as a few of the more well-dressed ones recognized the carriage. "It's gold! That means it's royal! Everybody, curtsy, curtsy!"

Another maid dared to peek inside, then immediately let out a squeal. "It's the Prince! Prince Idris!" She clapped her hands, waving into the carriage. "Every maiden's dream!"

Yet another took up the wail. "Prince Idriiis! We loooooooooove you!" There were giggles and blushes all around, excepting a small girl in the front who seemed very confused. Mirai was frozen halfway through a curtsy, deafened by the high-pitched squeals around her and bewildered when as a mass the young women began to swarm the carriage. The excited shouts rose to a fever pitch. "Oh wow, you're even more handsome in person!" "I have a woodcut of you; wait real quick and I'll bring it back, and then can you sign it, Your Majesty?" 8D "Give me a kiss! Just a quick kiss on the hand--EEE! HE TOUCHED ME! I"M NEVER WASHING THIS HAND AGAIN!"

And there, through it all, stood a girl with sweet blue eyes and flowers in her hair.

MIRAI

((Elvis is in the building)).

[E'doa A'nii]

"Not again! Idriiis! Do you know what all this fooling around will reap?!" The beautiful woman's face was contorted with dissaproval, disgust and dissapointment. Her voice was something between a despairing wail and complete exasperation. Under her lovely blond hair piled up in an elegant yet simple bun, shone two cystal blue eyes which might have been orange for all the fire they held.

Nestled in her blonde hair was a tiara of diamonds which glistened like fire. The symbol of the queen. She was usually even tempered and collected. But her son had a way of trying everyone's patience, including her own, and today he had gone too far. "That's the fourth break-up in a week!! How do you expect to ever find a decent wife carrying on that way?! Do you think nice women are attracted to men like you? Well, do you?!"

Prince Idris shifted his position and stared at the ground solemnly. It was an effort not to role his eyes or walk away. He'd only heard this lecture a million times. He knew exactly what she was going to say next: "When I was a girl..." Of course he'd broken up with Ivalice. Sure, she was pretty. Beautiful infact. But she was much too giggly for him. Besides, he'd found someone else prettier. Just thinking about Dorothea made his blood rise.

For a moment his mother's lecture was drowned out by images of the lovely Dorothea: Fair skinned, olive eyed, perfect hourglass body.

"I declare!" ,broke into his thoughts, "You have no taste in women. You wouldn't even know what to look for!"

She wasn't even half-way through yet. Fiora Armel was only at the part about what made a woman qualified to be a queen. Lots of rubbish about decorum and stuff. Idris stifled a yawn. She had yet to get to the part about how dissapointed she was with his behavior, and that sometimes it seemed like he would be better off picking someone up off the street...

!!

Idris got a wonderful idea. He would do just that. Today he would go out and pick up the firstgorgeous woman he saw, and make her his bride for life. Such action would probably thoroughly scandalize his mother; but it was her suggestion. And he didn't really want to go through all the trouble of courting anyone anyway. Being tied for life was bad enough.

And if she turned out poorly, well, he could always find a way to get rid of her right? Women were as plentiful as flies in the middle of summer. They flocked to the handsome prince like bees to flowers--probably why the boy took them all so much for granted--it would be easy to find another one.

Besides, if she turned out poorly, well, it wouldn't surprise his mother; and if she turned out well, maybe Fiora would leave him alone about it.

So, very rudely, and without waiting for his mother to finish her lecture, he walked out and headed for the stable to imperiously demand his golden coach be immediately brought round to the front.

A hasty brush through his hair and a fresh shirt and he was ready to go. And that was how the girls found our charming prince in the lowly market of Meryssa.

-----------------

The usual display of feminine adulation was enough to make the prince feel rightly about his decision. Mother could fume about his walking off so disrespectfully. He would bring home the best prize ever. ...He hoped... (As much as he hated to admit it, his mother was right. He didn't know the first thing about finding a decent woman.) As the first girl peeked in through the curtains he flashed his most winning smile and tried his best to ignore the massive windstorm carrying on in his stomach.

Marriage.

Our charming prince had to very much resist the urge to turn right around and go home. Maybe Ivalice wasn't so bad after all?

He should do his princely duty and oblige the ladies by peaking out the window. No sooner had his gorgeous pate revealed itself in that openeing then the gleaming golden carriage was surrounded by a flock of giggling, blushing, gushing girls. His dazzling smile was rivald only by the glinty gleamof his gaudy golden carriage. The prince happily nodded at the one who asked him to sign his wood carving, and delightedly kissed a gorgeous redhead on her hand. (An act which caused the poor girl almost to faint with delight and she carry on screaming about not washing...)

Ahh. It was soo good to be prince. Who else got to be surrounded by such beauty?

Or such ...chaos?

Idris wasn't so sure about living with a fan all his life. Being worshipped from afar was great. (After all, he was a prince. An amazingly handsome manly man kinda prince. ) But something about living with a woman who was perpetually gushing over him did not appeal at all.

For one thing, she would get tired of him. Getting free favors and endless attention only came from those who did not know him well enough to find him petulant and snotty. Besides, he could not afford to pay for endless gifts and favors. (He needed the money to keep up his good looks and fabulous entourage.) It was better when they were showered upon him with money that was not his own.

A 'dead spot' in the crowd caught his eye. Amazingly, there was one woman who did not bow down to his unbelievable good looks! Idris didn't know whether to be pleased or pout.

She obviously had enough sense to curtsy before her lord prince. But who could miss the prince? His announcement could be heard five hundred feet away. Maybe she was blind. After all, Idris was hard to miss. Mostly, because he made sure of that; but also because he was dazzlingly handsome.

So, on a sudden impulse he decided he would marry the maid with the flowers inher hair. She was pretty enough. Not prettier then he, of course (which would be just fine, as he could not bear to live with someone who was more physically attractive then he was); but not so ugly as to look like a village girl.

She did have the loveliest blue eyes...

Without giving too much thought (mostly because he didn't have much to think with)our charming prince leaned his exquisite body out the window; stretched out his shapely arms and scooped up Mirai.

Landing her unceremoniously on his lap, he grinned in a nauseatingly charming fashion and said: "Hello gorgeous! Today is your lucky day!"

And the fantastic golden carriage with it's four white horses lurched into motion and began galloping for the palace. Poor girls. Ah well. There could be only one bride; and they could all give him kisses tommorrow.

((Don't touch the sweaty hanky))

[Renna]

Mirai didn't think much of it when the not-that-handsome prince leaned out the window with arms outstretched; after all, there were dozens of girls behind her and beside, all clamoring for a bit of Idris' attention. The healer supposed he was trying to grant their wishes and gift them all with a not-that-special touch, so she stepped aside so the young ladies behind her would have a chance at their idol. Mirai gazed contently at the prince's face as he leaned, giving him a brief smile hello--

And then the strong hands were on her, and instead of a touch or an arrogantly bestowed kiss she was yanked into the carriage! Mimi found herself on the strange man's lap two seconds later and instantly tensed, looking out bewildered as the crowd and market faded away behind them. Of Idris, there was little to note. He was big, strong, had hair reminiscent of the woolly golden sheep of the Eastern mountains, and obviously thought himself handsome. And he called her 'gorgeous' the same way the tavern drunks did, the way that meant nothing at all. And for some reason he was holding her in his lap?

It made no sense. The girl sat there limp for a moment, then looked up at him confused as a wrinkle formed between her brows. "Ummmm...thank you?" She pulled herself away to sit on the other side, edging as far as she could into the furthest corner. "But you should turn around and let another girl have a ride, sir."

Her voice was as soft as her eyes, and the little worried hands knotted into her skirt...which happened to be of lavender gingham and was roughly four inches too short. "I mean, this is fun, and I've never met a prince before, but I was only looking at the dresses. I have to meet my familiar in a little while and finish my errands, and I think another lass would appreciate the gift a bit more." Mirai looked up at him hopefully. "You know. One of the ones who dreams of you at night and writes 'Mrs. Princess Armel' over her diary; one who has a mural of you on the wall?" She edged a little further into the corner. "A ride like this would make her dreams come true, and I...I don't really like this kind of thing, um, being alone with a young man so...it's wasted on me. Sir."

[E'doa A'nii]

Ah yes, the beautiful lady was bewildered by her new found elevation, and dazzled by his good looks. Perhaps she was not blind after all? Idris' dazzling grin became (if possible) brighter still, as Mirai tensed in his lap letting reality sink in.

Then she grew quite limp, and our charming prince was sure that she was about to swoon with delight. Her modest thanks only confirmed her percieved astonishment. Idris was beggining to think he'd done an excellent job, and that she would be quite pleased to marry him, when she opened her lovely red lips again and said:

"But you should turn around and let another girl have a ride, sir." Pop. Whoosh. Good feelings gone. Idris lost his smile momentarily. Who was she to tell him what to do?! Maybe it was his charm that had dazzled her mind. Ah well, she would soon recover.

Idris regained his smile, allowing his bride-to-be to remain in the far corner. Nothing like a blushing bride, trying not to be overwhelmed by the presence of the object of her affections. Yes, he was the 'cat's meow'. She had such a lovely voice; like rose petals floating on air. The most dew-like blue eyes.

Yes, she was beautiful. And nervous. "Ah, my dear--" He began reassuringly. It was natural for women to be shy in his presence. Who wouldn't be? But he was cut off by her next sentance.

Some blabber about this ride being merely 'fun' and meeting familiars-whatever they were- and letting other girls ride. It was an effort to hold on to his good feelings. If she wanted dresses, she could have them. He would buy her a dozen 'familiars' to wait on her hand and foot. Mirai backed away. Idris smoothed his features; he hadn't realized he had been glaring.

How dare she insist on him picking up someone else?! There were thousands of girls out there who would kill for a mere second in the golden coach with Prince Idris himself. Not to mention sitting in his lap. And here was a girl -on whom he had so graciously bestowed this vast honor- who was practically begging to be let out of the coach.

Was she mad? He'd heard of mad houses and women who were kept in them... but he hadn't actually expected to meet one of them; much less marry one.

Ouch. There was that word again.

"I will not do any such thing." Keep calm now Idris. It wouldn't do to scare your bride at the first meeting. She had not been wrong when she said it was wasted. Our charming prince was fast giving in to wrath at this slight upon his percieved dignity.

He must be gracious. Surely it was his charm and wonderfulness that had brought her to this state of mind. "What I mean is, you are the lucky girl who has been chosen to be my bride!" He flashed another grin. "Never mind about your friend. I will send someone to invite her to the wedding. " ,He waved offhandishly,"I will drop you off at the palace to get ready and we will be married tonight."

That pronouncement was given with the satisified and look of someone who feels he has just accomplished a great deal, and made someone else very important in doing so.

[Renna]

The girl stared at the prince, wrapping her arms around her legs to tuck herself even further back against the cushions. He was angry with her. She could tell he was angry because she always knew when people were angry--and while this man smoothed away the dark expressions and put on that same irritatingly bright smile, it didn't mean he was happy. That was the first lesson she'd learned, wasn't it? A smile did not have to mean that someone was happy. So the lass listened carefully to Idris; listened to the words and the meaning behind them like none other. His 'ah, my dear' did not soften her. The smiles did not soften her. And when at last he put his two cents in, she only knew that she had guessed right all along.

"I will do no such thing.."

"...Oh." It was all Mirai could think to say, and after a moment of uncomfortable silence she straightened up, about to say something polite like 'thank you' or 'I'm sure this will be a lovely ride' or 'how many gold coins did you melt down to paint this thing?' But she never had a chance, for the Prince had trained his grin on her again and puffed up like a bird trapped in the cold. Every instinct she had sat at attention at his Look and whispered a soft 'uh-oh', and only a moment later the girl knew why. Her mouth fell open and she just stared, eyes wide with pure, numbing shock. Mirai's first coherent thought was that he was funny, oh yes he was. The man with the woolly hair was funny. Princes didn't just pluck girls off the street and marry them. Well, maybe in fairy stories they did, but in fairy stories the princes didn't have to care that choosing the wrong lady could cause a war. In fairy stories girls were perfectly happy to marry total strangers.

Life wasn't a fairy story.

She waited a minute or so, too astounded to speak and waiting to hear his chipper 'just kidding!' But the Prince said nothing, still fixing her with a grin that was quickly beginning to glaze, and finally an emotion kicked in. Horror.

Mirai's hands flew up to her face as she blanched, the dew-bright eyes growing even dewier with tears of fright. "Oh! I'm honored, yes, but--but I--" Her fingers fluttered desperately, but looking at the insufferable oaf sitting across from her only made the girl panic more, and she lost all care for her tongue. "No, no I'm not! I could never marry you. No thank you!" She trembled. "Me, a Princess? I know nothing of--and you--you don't even know my name; you didn't even ask. Us, married, tonight? Me, your wife? Impossible. Oh, no, Sire, you are very kind but I will only shame you; a Prince and a shy country maid will only make the Prince look foolish. A-and--" The tears overflowed, brimming over her eyes to spill down her cheeks. "And I haven't even come of age yet; my guardian has not given me his permission to court or marry. This would be illegal."

She looked at him with pleading eyes. "Please, Sire, I am very sorry, but you deserve better. Please let me go home!"

[E'doa A'nii]

His announcement had a better effect then he'd anticipated. Obviously the thought of such a great honor had brought his lovely lady to silence. She was awed by the thought.

His smile brightened a little, and his anger began to subside. Though he had to admit that all this grinning was making his jaws hurt. He was about to scoop her up and mutter something soft and mushy when she turned sheet white and lfung her hands up to her face.

Was she going to faint? Idris looked a little puzzled by her reaction. In truth, she was a puzzling girl. One minute she acted as if she were tickled pink and the next she was all unhappy. The thought never occured to our charming prince that he was actually forcing himself on her, if not in the truest sense of the word. But then, not many thoughts occured to our charming prince.

For a minute she stammered worrying herself with her fingers. Obviously she was going to say something about being honored and unworthy. A fitting thing to say.

She was angry again. Shouting now. Quite vehemently, in fact, about not being his bride. Of course, she needn't have said that a peasant wife would have made our charming prince look foolish. That was sort of bordering on the fact that he actually was already. (But we need not state the obvious.)

Our charming prince made an effort to control his rapidly rising temper. She was upset about marrying him because she wasn't old enough to yet? That was it?! All that yelling over something so simple. He was the prince wasn't he? Her tears did a little to soothe his anger. Surely she was dissapointed. But she need not have been so irate about it. He was after all, Prince Idris Armel.

Such a trifling matter could easily be dealt with. The carriage came to a stop, and Idris scooped up his unwilling bride, stroking her hair comfortingly and carrying her into the castle. The Golden Coach bounced out of the courtyard and away to find the guardian and something or someone called a 'familiar'.

The Lady Loves Him...But She Doesn't Know It Yet

------------------

"Oh mother!" Prince Idris had good lungs, and his farmyard style bellow carried well through the palace. "Look what I've brought home!" The pronouncement was made with as much excitement as that of a little boy who has just brought home his first toad. He set down his rather unhappy bride (or shall we say kidnap victim) and kept a firm hold of her hand.

Like most mothers Queen Fiora had a similar reaction, if a little less vehemently. The stately woman began by placing a hand on her forehead. She was beginning to get a migraine. The girl was beautiful, but poorly dressed. Obviously a peasant. But knowing her son's taste in women, she was trying desperately to avoid thinking where she came from. Probably from some brothel. That thought just sort of came in uninvited.

The Queen Mother sighed. Why couldn't she have been sterile? or better yet, why couldn't she had had some doting princess? Her son was almost more trouble then he was worth. Why was he trumpeting this poor wretch about in that manner anyway? He never treated other girls like that. Was he expecting some sort of approval? When she finally did speak, her voice fairly trembled with supressed wrath.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

Prince Idris blinked. He had not been expecting that. "Well... you always said that I would be well off picking up a bride off the street. So here she is!" The first half came out a little timidly, but the second half came out with a big grin, and the confidence of one who percieves himself to have done well.

Poor girl. "You willmost certainly do no such thing." That could not have been anything else but a Royal Command.

The Queen's voice softened and became very gentle.

"My dear girl. I can see you've had a rough time of it. Please, excuse my son...he is a bit foolhardy and often rash. You may stay here tonight, and I will personally see you returned home safely in the morning."

[Renna]

Mirai squirmed when her unwanted suitor put his arms about her, scooping her up and cradling her to his chest like a babe. The healer had never had a man before, by any stretch of the definition, and she imagined that such an action performed by someone she trusted might be very pleasant. But to have this tornado of a prince with his hands all over her and stroking her hair....it was too much. It was not pleasant. But he was tall and strong and she was helpless, and since the maid had no way of knowing what he would do to her next she did not enjoy the ride at all. A few little slaps to his shoulders did nothing at all, and Mirai was the sort of person who could never bring herself to inflict real damage on another person, so when her protests did not avail she simply gave up to lie white and listless in his arms. A Princess? Really? She couldn't be a princess! Not wed to some stranger whose shallow stupidity was surprisingly annoying. Not a woman with ghost children she couldn't raise; children she would have to put up for auction later for the good of the country. Not a woman forbidden from work. She couldn't. Mirai needed to heal and bake and wash and mend; she would go crazy trapped up in some tower room with more of those giggling girls surrounding her and endless mountains of embroidery looming ahead. And if the Prince were to kiss her--!

She didn't have time to travel further down this train of thought, for they swept past the gates and into a courtyard and suddenly she was on her feet, with inconsiderate Idris bellowing for his mother so everyone could hear. The prince kept a crushing grip on her hand, and after a halfhearted tug to try to break away Mirai decided it was just as well. She was going to be married tonight and the Queen was coming and she really did not like the young man in question, but her knees had turned to water and in all honesty Armel's grip was the only thing keeping her upright.

The young woman's eyes widened when a majestic and stately lady glided forward, eyeing her and the prince with deep disapproval. Mirai sank down in something that might have been a curtsy had she the strength (or free hands) to do it properly, but Idris was babbling away and this was it, she was going to be married.

Until the queen decided otherwise. Mirai burst into fresh sobs and leaped forward, tearing her hand out of Idris' grasp and running forward to hide behind his mother. "Oh, thank you, Your Majesty!" The healer locked her arms around the waist of the Queen, holding her tight in gratitude and relief. "And thank you from my poor dead mother too; I'm sure s-she is very happy that you stepped in because I-I was so scared! He doesn't even know my name!"

The girl glared at Idris from behind the safety of the Queen, and snapped. "He is -not- that, what you said. Your Highness, I don't care how happy I should be that you wanted me for your wife; you only wanted me because I'm pretty. And I don't -care- if all those other girls fawn all over you; they only fawn because you're handsome. My name is Mirai, I am a healer, and if there is one thing I know it is that bodies change. You won't always be handsome. And when that's gone you will have -nothing-, do you hear me? And--And--I don't -care- if you are a prince; unless a girl says 'yes, I want it' what you would have done to me is rape! Like the gutterrats. The drunken peasants, the gang lords, the vile, the low, the dark! You are a prince and you are supposed to be higher than that and and and--" She was spluttering, plainly not one accustomed to fury. "And everyone should move out of Adesia before you become King because it will all go down to the deeps!"

Mirai turned her shoulder and buried her face against the Queen, clinging to her like a lost child. "...I will be good now. I'm sorry."

[E'doa A'nii]

The Queen smiled a soft, soothing smile and allowed the young lady to hide behind her skirts. The poor dear really was distraught; quite frightened out of her wits and very indignant. A strange reaction towards the prince from one so young. Her words were intelligent and more wise then she knew.

Perhaps her highness had been right. Idris hadn't done half-bad picking someone up off the street. It must have been accidental. This young lady was not Idris' type!


Idris himself was turning from shocked white to furious red and various shades of pink indignation in between all the while his bride-to-be was ranting at him. The fact that her name was Mirai went completely unnoticed; drowned among the indignant angry thoughts that swam in our charming prince's head. Rape?! As if he would do such a thing!

How dare she say so?! Our charming Prince had never actually forced himself on a girl in all his life. At least not in that sense of the word. And how dare she say that he would be a horrible King?! Sending his own kingdom 'to the deeps' indeed!! Lucky for Mirai, his mother was present. If they had been by themselves, the lord prince might have taken her by the shoulders and shaken her till her teeth rattled.

She was a peasant! And a woman. She had no knowledge of leadership affairs. None. Idris' teeth were clenched so hard he could hear his jaw creak. He was about to turn on his heel and leave when his mother spoke.

"Never mind my dear. It's quite alright." She muttered soothingly to the poor refugee hiding behind her skirts.

"IDRIS!" The Queen's voice was trembling with supressed rage. Her hand went back to her forehead, and she gave a great sigh clenching her fist a little. "...I will have a talk with you later. Now, go."

Idris practically stomped out of the room like a little boy. When he was gone and the door had slammed behind him, Queen Fiora gently disentangled Mirai from her person.

"Now, my dear. I can see you've had a rough day of it. I will have a room made up for you."

She waved a hand at an attending servant who seemed to appear out of nowhere and vanish just as quickly.

"I will talk with my son. But I would ask you a favor. As you can tell...he's awfully self-centered. I need someone who can straighten him out. I'm not asking you to marry him, or even to love him. But I do ask that you use any little influence you have over him to make him a better man. 'Tis my fault he's the way he is, I'm afraid. But there's nothing I can do about it now.

Would you do me that favor?" The Queen hated to ask it. But if Idris was willing to marry a girl like Mirai, maybe there was hope for him yet.

-----------------

Meanwhile, our charming prince was off in his garden fuming at the flowers. They practically burst into flames at his gaze and wilted at his touch. He was pacing the walkway up and down very furiously muttering under his breath. He was going to be fuming for awhile...

[Renna]

"Me? Influence him?" Mirai drew her sleeve across her eyes, and took a deep, shuddering breath before shaking her head. "I have no influence over him; he doesn't know me well enough for that." The healer maid forced herself to calm down, delving inward until the fear and frustration of only a few minutes ago was lost somewhere in the safety of her own heart. "His Highness does not know how to listen. I doubt I can do anything."

But the dove-coo voice went even softer, and she bent her head. "But my Queen asks it of me, so I will try."

The maid said nothing more for several moments, lost in thought with her head tipped just slightly to the side. She looked very pretty in that moment, with the last tears dried on her lashes and the dust glinting around her feet. Now that Mirai Smythesson had calmed, her true personality showed itself in her face and demeanor---the dark braid spilling over her shoulders, the too-short dress, the well-patched apron; all silently spoke of the girl's simplicity. But the flowers and ribbons in the plait, the spotless gown, and the clean scent of soap and herbs testified to a love of beauty as well; a quiet beauty that once found shone lovelier than anything minds could dream. All was soft for a moment, and then a man stepped through the cloud of dust left by the horses to kneel at Mirai's feet. She startled out of her trance, looking down at him in some confusion. "I beg your pardon, sir, I don't understand." Mirai put out her hand to him. "I am not marrying the prince, so please stand up."

The grizzled guard shook his head and lifted bright hazel eyes to the girl standing above them, eyes that shone bright with unshed tears. "Oh, you don't remember me, you don't. Aelf. Aelf, miss. Aelf with the boy run over by a--"

The healer's eyes flashed in recognition, and she gave the guard Aelf a troubled smile. "Aelf! I do remember you. And your son. But I thought--I--" She blushed, uncomfortably, then wrapped a hand around his and tried to tug him up. "Oh, please don't. Thank Death and the Earth Goddess for his life, not me. Patients don't--they don't---they don't always live. Oh, sir Aelf, won't you stand?"

He shook his head again. "No, on account of I'm not kneeling down to worship you. I kneel to beg a favor." Aelf swiveled around to look at the queen, and ducked his head down in a makeshift bow. "Your Majesty, your son just made a fearful blunder. No offense. But you, Miss Mirai....you made a terrible one yourself! You just refused His Highness very loudly and very publicly, and worse you insulted him. You only spoke the truth but...but this is Court."

She stared. "...What do you say to me?"

He rose, compassion in his eyes, and pressed her hand in his. "I say that within two hours there will be two stories going out. One, that a prince kidnapped a common girl and took her away to ravish her, which tale the maids might like but their parents and lords will not. Two, that a common girl shamed her Prince in public with no punishment whatsoever, and now high treason is acceptable in Adesia." Aelf looked at her long and hard, tightening his hold on her hand as she paled. "Soon the chaos begins. Peasants furious at the reign of a kidnapper as future king; nobility furious that the peasants are allowed to forget their place. Two warring sides given one more reason to war. And, of course, the problem of the future. Who will our flighty prince wed if not you? A girl as flighty and careless as he? And then what of Adesia? Who will guide it when our good, kind Queen is gone?"

Mirai looked at him, horrified, but she saw the truth in his words and that was why a single tear slipped out over her cheek. "You wish me to marry him!"

The guard nodded. "Never said it would be an easy favor, milady. But you are there for those in need of you; always have been. Now Adesia is in need....and what if the god who favors you placed you in the place you could best help? With great power comes great responsibility; you know that. What if the gods decided to give someone with great responsibility even greater power?"

She was silent, trembling and frozen at the implication of his words. He was right. What good a Princess could do. What good a Queen! And what chaos would rise as a result of this meeting? Mirai knew all too well what bitter hatred stood between the wealthy and the poor; too many of the wounds she healed arrived because of this hate. And she knew all too well about the gods. No, Aelf spoke truth. And that was what made this so very, very frightening.

The girl looked at Queen Fiora, appealing her with her eyes. "But ...that isn't what marriage is." Her gaze swiveled back to the guard. "That's not what I want." Mirai sounded confused; helpless. "He's not my friend; not someone to feel safe with and trust; he wanted to hurt me just now. I felt it. I felt his hands on my shoulders." The healer gulped, her hands worrying her way into the apron again as she tilted her head back to the sky. "It's not enough to make me watch people die? Not enough to ask my life; now you want my heart? I don't want much. I really don't. A clean cottage of my own, with a tender husband to kiss me on the brow just because and a sweet babe to rock in my arms. I don't want to give that up!" She buried her face in her hands, coming back down to earth with a simple sob. "It's not fair that I must give that up..."

Mirai trailed off into a whisper, then to silence. When she finally spoke her voice was dull. "But you, Guard Aelf, speak true. The Grey Lord moves me in ways I don't understand and don't usually like, but what is there to do but follow? And I won't..I won't have what happens next on my conscience, either. I can already see it. It won't be long before someone throws a tomato at the carriage, and then it will be stones, and then a lord will draw a weapon on the crowd." She gathered herself together with an effort, then turned and dropped a low curtsy to Fiora. "Your Majesty. Please tell your son that I accept his proposal with all happiness, and apologize for embarrassing him. I'd like it if you explained that I am simply very young and frightened? Please, ask him for me to make the betrothal period a year; if he won't accept that then six months. Three, even. If you could just...explain..." Her hand went to her head. "That I know I have much to learn; that I am shy around men since none have ever taken my hand, that I am frightened of a wedding night with a stranger and wish to really know him. That I will be happy to marry him. Just not tonight."

She took another deep breath, then curtsied low again, quivering. "Madam, I fully understand if you don't like this. I know I'm no Princess. All I can say is that I'm sorry...and if we can't work something out to end the engagement honorably, I promise I'll do my very best to learn everything I must. For you and for Adesia."

Her lip trembled, and the girl quickly clapped her hand over it. "And now I t-think I have to go have another cry. Aelf, please show me too--thank you--and the Prince may come see me in my room tonight if you wish. T-thank--"

She got no further, but whirled on her heel and fled.

[E'doa A'nii]

Queen Fiora Armel was greatly touched by the girl's willingness to help her son. Truly it was a blessing, for Idris would never have intentionally chosen such a warm-hearted girl in all his life.

Mirai was very pretty indeed; and it was easy to see what had attracted the prince to her. Her natural beauty was apparent, but it was magnified a thousand fold by the beaut of her heart. True bueaty indeed. Perhaps someday, Idris would come to appreciate such beauty for what it was.

The guard who approached happened to be a favorite of the queen's and so, she did not reprimand him. Aelf's advice was valued, and she had been sorry about his son. THe fact that Mirai had been the one to heal the boy made the girl all the more precious in the woman's eyes.

Alway's so humble, Aelf. As if such an observation would offend her. Not at all. She had been a little worried about that, herself. But she had thought to mend it on her own. No need to bother the girl about it. It was her son's fault after all; he was the one who should pay. And pay he would, if she had to have him publicly flogged for it, and Mirai's guardian paid off and the wedding arranged, to make restitution.

(Part of the reason such good order was kept in the kingdom, under the circumstances, was because public humiliation was often used -quite effectively- as a means of discipline; and it was a well known fact that royalty were not immune to such acts of discipline. Royalty, however were seldom and sometimes inconsistently punished; at least from the public's viewpoint, because they did not know all the facts.)

While the Queen did not like the reality of what Aelf said any more then Mirai Smiythesson did; she had to admit, it sure would make things a lot easier if Mirai would actually consent. Because the other choice of action would be to disown her son (and therefore remove his titles and lands) and force him to marry Mirai by law. A situtation which would make Mirai's life miserable, and the Prince a savage beast.

Queen Fiora's heart went out to the poor thing as she protested about the meaning of marriage. True, marriage wasn't about saving kingdoms, or gaining money. It wasn't about pleasing someone else and very seldom about righting wrongs. No, marriage was for love. Or at least, it should be. The look of regret showed in the Queen's eyes mingled with admiration for the brave sacrifice of the kind young lady.

"I will get your year-long engagement, dear one." She said softly. But she meant it. It would take at least that long for our charming prince to come to his senses, or at least get a slight grasp on the concepts pertaining to the task at hand. Such a long engagement would give the lovely Mirai time to get used to the idea, and to say good-by to her family and soften Idris up a little.

Heaven knew he needed softening. A thunk on the head wouldn't hurt either. But a little change of heart would be fabulous. At least they could have a public engagement announced. If nothing else they could break it off before the marriage. Or at least, the Queen hoped it as much as Mirai did. She would not wish her son on anyone.

As Mirai rushed off, the Queen nodded her thanks to Aelf, and bustled out of the room to find her son.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------


Idris seemed a very ugly picture to his mother as she entered the garden. He was brooding over a poor singed sunflower and glaring angrily at the earth beneath him. Our charming Prince's handsome features were at the moment marred by the emotions of pride and anger. But it was not his face that she saw. It was his heart, which was far uglier then his handsome visage and winning smile would indicate.

The place in which he was sitting was a mess, as gardening tools and various statues had been thrown about or dissarayed in the frenzy of his anger. The Queen Mother stepped carefully over a fallen statue of cupid and sat down beside her son. The young man did not even look up.

"I don't have to tell you how dissapointed I am in your conduct today. I think you know that already. But Idris, you have gone too far this time. Much too far. It's one thing to play around with the little slips you bring home, but it's quite another to kidnapp a girl right off the streets." The voice was calm. But cold anf firm like ice with the faint hint of a very hot fire beneath it.

Idris was about to say something in protest but his mother silenced him with a look. He hadn't rally thought of it as kidnapping. [Not that that made it right] He really had been convinced that girls would die to have him sweep them up like that and that finding a bride would be a piece of cake. Part of him wanted to defend himself, and the other part had to admit, for once, that it had been a pretty stupid idea.

"You do realize what you have done to what was left of your reputation? You are now considered not only a womanizer, but a kidnapper and a rapist." Idris really did look surprised then. Surprised and angrier then ever, if that was possible.He was -not- a rapist. He had never raped a girl in his life! His mother kept right on going, ignoring his look of indignation and protest.

"Everyone thinks you're going to rape that girl. You and I know you're not that kind of boy. But no one else does. And what brainlessness posessed you to kidnapp Mirai is beyond me. Even she thinks you're going to rape her or at least do her some form of harm."

The prince stared sullenly at the floor. The people could hang for all he cared. What did it matter what they thought?


"Now," The queen's voice was still calm, "You have two options. I can have you publicly disowned and flogged, pay Mirai's guardian a handsome dowry and force you to marry the girl. (The common restitution for rape and kidnapping.) Or, you can have a year long engagement to Mirai, during which you will treat her with the civility you would treat a goddess and you will not so much as lay a hand on her head. Do you hear me? If you so much as touch one hair on her head, I will personally flog you."

Idris was beyond flabbergasted. He was almost purple with suppressed emotion, and was beggining to sputter like a chimney. His mother had never actually threatened him with flogging before, muchless threatened to do the deed herself. And why couldn't he marry her tonight? Then, he could get it over with and move on with his life. After all, he was only marrying Mirai because his mother insisted he find a wife. It wasn't like they'd actually have to live together, or have children or anything right? Well, they'd have to have children. Princes needed heirs. But he wouldn't ever have to see her after that right?

"Now, what is your choice?"

'...I'll take the engagement..." Idris choked. The idea of being chained to a woman who he actually had to genuinely care for and love on was a terrifying thought. No more night parties, no more carriage rides under moonlight. No more free attentions. What would he do with himself? Being stuck with one woman would be awfully boring. Not to mention he would actually have to be responsible and take care of a family.

A nightmare.

And his mother actually expected him to treat this girl like a goddess!!! Didn't he deserve to get royal treatment? He was the prince, after all. He was far more important then this Mirai he'd (quite literally) picked up. And besides, didn't he deserve a little something for all the trouble he'd been through?

But Queen Mother wasn't done speaking, " Well, now that we have that settled, your mistress is up in her chambers, and you may begin paying her your attentions tonight if you wish." That's what Mirai had said. But the Queen personally hoped Idris wouldn't start till the morning. The girl had had a rough night of it.

Queen Fiora rose and kissed her son on the top of his head and walked out before he had a chance to say anything. Which was just as well, for our charming prince felt himself to be quite the little bird in the gilded iron cage. And ,somehow, his brilliant idea of kidnapping himself a wife seemed now to be a terrible nightmare from which he was doomed never to escape. And ,somehow, the lovely and beautiful Mirai was no longer so very lovely and beautiful; she was wicked enchantress who had trapped him in this...

Well, if she wanted a simpering husband she was going to find out very much differently...

OUr wonderful Prince Charming headed off to his extravagant royal chambers to ready himself for a night of wooing.

[Renna]

"There, that's good. Leave it."

Little Mirai surveyed her new room with a mix of determination and despair, clasping her hands together before her breast to stare at the little table before the couch in the parlor. It was well-spread with a humble (but delicious) meal, prepared by the Lady's own hands and set out to steam invitingly right there in plain sight. Stew, bread, fruit, cheese---a peasant's meal, one Aelf had insisted The Prince would not eat, and one Mirai insisted would soften her new lord's heart. Eventually they had come to a bargain. Aelf relented and gave the healer consent to use the kitchens, if she would let him direct the maids in dressing and perfuming her. So it was that she'd fled to the fires and immediately began chopping onions, releasing all her tears into the kettle without fear of shaming herself or The Prince. So it was that the unexpected couple now had dinner. And so it was that the shabbily-gowned girl was now rather uncomfortable in a dress laced up tightly to fit her slender frame; a creamy silk that dipped low in the back and neckline to show off milky skin. Mirai had been fiddling with her new dress almost incessantly over the past hour, tugging up at the fabric so it would sit higher on her chest or closer on her shoulder or a little more loosely on her torso. That was when Aelf had very gently scolded her, reminding the girl that this would only help her win Idris' regard. She'd lowered her eyes and nodded, and all was well.

Then she'd started fiddling with her hair.

Aelf said nothing about that, letting her touch and tug the strange new hairdo. Mirai was a very young maiden, one who had never had her hair pinned up as it was now; and certainly one who had never had it held up with jeweled pins and combs. The old guard knew that if he scolded about that she would only start playing with her new jewelry, and a few loose curls dipping about her face made a very affecting picture indeed. So he stayed silent, stiffening only when a foot fell outside the maid's door. Aelf moved instantly to the 'Attention' position, in place when it swung open to reveal the Prince. This was the beginning, and he would watch with great interest.

She moved forward to meet her suitor, a little white thing flowing down to kneel at his feet with head bent humbly down. "Well met, my lord. Will you dine with me this night? I...I've made us supper. As an apology." Mirai did not look up. "You did frighten me, but I insulted you. Please forgive me."

[E'doa A'nii]

Idris placed yet another extravagant ring on his left hand with a sigh. He held it out before him to better inspect it in the light from the torch. Maude was fiddling with his hair again. The pudgy attendant meant well, but for a man he was awfully fussy.

"Leave it Maude. It's fine."

"But Your highness!" Maude began in protest.

"C'mon Maude. It's just a peasant girl."

"Yes, sire." The attendant's ever fidgeting fingers dropped to his sides where they unceasingly worried themselves as the large man waddled around his leige with an inspecting air.

"Well, sir, your not as well turned out as I'd like... but you look fine all the same. Quite handsome if I do say so myself."

"Thank you Maude." Idris beamed his characteristic flashy grin and inspected himself once more. He had to admit, even though he found the effeminate attendant repulsive, the fellow did have excellent taste in clothes.

Our charming prince was well dressed in an embroidered shirt of purple and a vest of gold, which fastened with diamond buttons near the waist. His pants were of the finest cut and of a discreet navy blue which offset the vest beautifully. The only thing Maude was not allowed to pick was the jewelry; a fact evidenced by the tasteless abundance of that particular accessory.

Prince Idris had at least three rings on each finger, all of which had a gem in them the size of a small egg. It was a wonder our prince could close his had without knocking the rings together. His favorite large diamond pendant hung about his neck in cavalier fashion; dangling between the edges of his open shirt.

"How 'bout this one sire?"

"No, not that one. For a goddess! For a goddess!" The prince tossed the flawless floral arrangement aside. It landed in a heap with about ten others; all equally just as beautiful.

"B-but sir. This is the very best our gardener had to offer."

"Nonsense. Don't you people have any Moon flowers?"

The servant gasped. "B-but sir! T-those are f-or--" He was cut short by his own gulp and the hotter then fire look his master shot in his direction.

"Yes, sir!" And the servant scuttled off as fast as he could go.

Prince Idris gave his hair one final pat and an extra spray of scent, while he waited.
He was going to dazzle that lady out of her wits tonight. She would be begging to be his princess! He would just drag it on for the whole year and then knock of the engagement. Break her heart. That would teach her to insult him. A rapist indeed! Soon the servant came back with the desired flowers, and Idris was on his way to his lady's chambers. He adjusted his shirt collar, spread his widest grin and knocked on the door.

Or at least he was about to. Mirai had excellent hearing. The door was opened so fast that he was caught in mid-knock position, with the most ludicrous grin. He was even quite surprised by the speed with which the lovely Mirai was down on her knees apologizing with such sincerity as to melt a heart of stone.

And indeed her winning ways did touch him a little. She was such a pitious sight; so obviously uncomfortable, yet so earnest. A penitent little thing indeed. A small part of his anger died at seeing the pretty picture she posed. But the mention of her making dinner might as well have fallen on deaf ears. Having never experienced the large amount of work involved in actually making something as simple and common as bread, our charming prince could not appreciate the trouble which the more-than-gracious-lady had been through.

"It is quite forgiven, my dear." He said as graciously as possible. He would have helped Mirai to her feet, but he wasn't supposed to touch her. "I have brought you some flowers as token of my...forgiveness." The last word came out a little hesitantly. Mostly because our charming prince was so unused to forgiving anyone for anything, that the word was almost foreign. To aplogize for frightening her did not even occur to our charming prince; seeing as how he'd never exactly apologized for anything either.

When Mirai had risen, Prince Idris handed her the bouquet of Moon flowers. Moon flowers were extremely rare, and very valuable. So to have one was to have quite a treasure indeed. To have a whole bouquet of twelve Moon flowers was beyond imagining. The slender white lily-like flowers stared up radiantly at the lady. In the darkly lit hallway they reflected the glow of the torchlights, looking as if they had been carved from the moon itself. Little white orbs floated above each flower in a rythmic dance that looked something like a confetti of stars.

Even for all their beauty, they could not match the purity of Mirai, or the beauty of her heart. The flowers were barely a start in the direction of compensation for all the little sacrifices she had been making. But, comming from Prince Idris... they were a lot.

"It would be a pleasure to dine with you tonight, my dear." He accepted her invitation imagining something along the lines of fine wine and steak. It was probably for the best that he hadn't seen the meal yet. But when he actually did get inside, and saw the meal, it was an effort not to erupt in a fit of rage.

stew?! What prince ate stew? She didn't actually expect him to eat that did she?

Of course not. She couldn't be that daft.

"It looks lovely..." He began. (His best attempt at tact to date) "But...um.. forgive me for asking... but where's mine?"

[Renna]

Upon rising, the girl was glad she had bent her head away from her prince. Idris was so...so...gaudy. He strutted and flashed about like a bejeweled peacock, forever preening and posturing. The open shirt, too, was distracting. Was it an invitation to look? Mirai peered at his chest, curiously, but was immediately so blinded by his enormous pendant she abandoned the thought in disgust. This was what she was to wed? A brainless peacock?

She was silent as Idris blathered on, reflecting on her new place as the peahen and wondering how she would survive the rest of her life with this man as a husband. It was all Mirai could do not to flinch away or grimace at her suitor, especially when he addressed her as 'my dear'. That was something Mirai truly hated, and Idris seemed just the type do do it fifty times a day for the next eighty years. 'My dear' meant nothing it was supposed to. 'My dear' coming from someone like Idris with that particular tone was a pat on the head, a treat thrown to please an obliging but stupid dog. 'My dear' was the same thing as baby-talk, and the pain of it cut swift and cut deep. The girl bit down on the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from weeping yet again from sheer despair, but she didn't have long to wait.

For in a moment Prince Armel produced the moonflowers, and the unwilling bride forgot her disgust in genuine wonder. "Ohhh!" It was voiced as a sigh, a soft little breath of longing and delight, and Mirai held out her arms to accept the bouquet as tenderly as she would a babe. "Ohhh. How beautiful!"

She cradled them in her arms, smiling softly down at her new treasure, then lifted her head to smile at the ill-mannered prince. "These are gorgeous. Thank you so much."

The maid tightened her arms around her new present, smiling a little to feel the flower's sparkles settle on her skin, but then the Prince saw his dinner and her heart and smile plummeted away. Aelf watched sharply from the corner and lost his professionalism enough to bite on one lip, pitying the poor girl who had given herself the burden of marrying Adesia's boar of a prince. There was a long moment of silence, during which Mirai tried to decide between throwing Idris' bowl of stew at his face or running out of the room in tears. The ever-patient healer looked at him long, took a breath, and then very gently sat her flowers down on the table. "Yours is there, across from mine."

She moved forward again, taking his hand in hers and raising it to her lips as she sank once more to her knees. "Guardsman Aelf told me that princes don't eat stew, but...but...I don't know how to make what princes eat. I've never met one before." Guileless Mirai decided that sometimes a little guile was very appropriate, and let her voice tremble just enough to suggest tears. "Please, I did my very best for you. I can't afford moonflowers or jewels; nothing like the fine gifts you give to me. But I spent hours on that, truly I did, and that is everything I can offer." Mirai held her hands up in supplication. "Only try one bite, for me. I promise I'll learn how to cook for a prince as soon as I can. And I'm sorry you don't like it."

A tear slipped down her cheek, leaving a shimmering trail for perfect dramatic effect. "I'll give you a kiss to go with it; maybe that will be a better gift. And then you can teach me important things, like how to be a good wife to you and about being a King and about Adesia." The little hands clutched at his. "And then maybe you could help me with unimportant things, like cooking and healing, because sometimes I need help common people just can't provide." She looked up at him. "Will you, my dear Prince?"

Oh, yes, she was laying it on thick, but only in direct proportion to the skull she was dealing with. This would take some work.

[E'doa A'nii]

"Ah...thank you..." Idris was trying. But a little of the frost would creep into his voice.

He took his seat on the opposite side of the table, and tried to resign himself to eating the stew.Before he could make a decision about calling for another meal or not, Mirai had his hand and kissed it tenderly. Ah, so it was ignorance that had affected her choice of dinner. Well, that was all fine and good; but why didn't the silly girl order something? He had a palace full of chefs and servants just for that.

He kissed her soft white hand in return and patted it soothingly. She was so distraught over his displeasure that he could not help but relent. She had made him dinner after all. And she did want to learn her place. She had just said so. And she was a peasant after all. She could only do so much. As for helping her... well, Idris couldn't say he cared an awful lot for the common people. But maybe, if she was good, he might throw a couple pennies their way every once in awhile, just for her.

He was beginning to wonder if he should break her heart. It came so close to breaking on such a frequent basis, that he wasn't sure if she could handle that much. He certainly didn't want to kill her. Women. Why did they have to make a man's life so difficult?!

"Alright, I'll eat it just for you." He reached up and gently wiped the tear from her cheek with one finger. "But no more crying, now. And after dinner we will have a jolly time riding horses and hunting for rabbits. I'll even let you pick your own horse."

Nothing like a good chase after a meal. Surely Mirai would like that; especially the part about picking her own horse. Every girl wanted a horse, didn't they? It seemed like he'd given away hundreds of horses to hundreds of girls in his short lifetime.

And just so that she would believe him about the stew, he picked up a spoon with his free hand and took a bite of stew. For a second, he actually forgot the spoon was in his mouth. Unbelievable! The stew was delicious! The meat was tender, and the broth was flavorful, and the little carrots and potatoes added a nice touch and mingled very well with the other vegtables in the dish.

After a second he pulled out the spoon and swallowed. While our prince did forget himself on occasion, he did have the presence of mind not to ask if she actually made the soup herself. Instead he smiled gently and said, "It's a lovely soup. Why don't you sit down and have some?" And released her hand gently.

As much as our charming prince hated to admit it. It was the best meal he'd had in a very long time. Simple, hearty, tasty. And he ate it with poorly disguised relish.

[Renna]

Maybe there was some hope after all. Mirai wasn't exactly thrilled with Idris' performance, but after some deliberation she was beginning to find her footing. The prince was giving her an idea of what she was up against; also what she was working with. He was proud and stupid and condescending and stubborn, but his heart was not yet one of stone. Her tears moved him to compassion, and he gave freely. Part of Mirai thought that for a man with so much, generosity was nothing and as such didn't count, but the other part knew full well that many, many wealthy men gave nothing they didn't have to. Somewhere beneath all the fluff and glitter a heart was beating, and with any fortune and plenty of patience maybe it would prove to be the heart of a man and not a boy.

With this hope in mind Mirai allowed herself a smile, her tears drying on command. She wasn't very hungry this night, not really; but it was a gratifying sight to see His Highness Prince Idris Armel digging into a humble bowl of stew the same way any hardworking peasant might. "You like it!" She cooed it out, rising from her chair to cross over to him and drape her arms around his neck. The healer gave him a smile, then bent to put her lips to his cheek. "Oh, I hoped you would. I know princes don't eat stew, but it's really so very good it seems a shame." Mirai kissed his cheek again, then lightly tousled the golden curls and retreated to her chair. "I'll still learn to make prince food, I promise--but I'll make you the stew any time you like. There's no shame in enjoying a meal well-made."

The girl gave him a warm look, then folded her hands and fell into ponderous silence. After a while of thought she straightened up and looked over with alert blue eyes. "My own horse? Really?" Mirai hoped she looked suitably delighted. She was, honestly, but some very important thoughts had just come to her mind and they were of a serious enough nature that it made it hard to appear joyous. "I've always wanted a horse. I used to climb trees and bounce on the branches to play pretend. My very own horse." She beamed, glowing with what gratitude she could muster. "And more lovely gowns like this one, to have forever? It's very kind of you. You are kind."

Now for the serious part. "...But you get so angry." This would be tricky. Mirai was no seductress, which made the next bit more difficult than she liked--but still she rose again to move by him, sitting next to him on the couch and laying back so her head was in his lap and she was looking up at his face. "Why do you get so angry?"

A white hand lifted to touch his cheek, curiously. "Earlier today, when I shouted at you. I-I got the feeling that you wanted to hurt me. That if your mother hadn't been there to see, your hands would have gone around my throat. Would you ever hurt anyone that small and helpless?"

Her eyes sharpened, and Mirai was no longer the frightened kitten. She was earnest now, serious, searching for more clues to her husband's identity. "Would you hurt me, my Lord?"