synergetic | Prince of Fire Emblem: Gray Waves

A princess with a poker face, Yukimura thought, as Yanagi took away the tea cups and retreated to where the rest of his entourage waited near the doorway.

He had open across the small negotiating table a letter from Princess Azura's stepfather, promising him that he would make her marriage as valuable to him as if she were his own flesh and blood. King Garon had a reputation that his own children shrank from, even as they bowed to his every whim. Azura didn't have the same fawning, wincing air as Garon's own children, from what Yukimura remembered of the spy reports. She looked placidly into his eyes.

"You pushed for this?" he asked, bluntly.

"No, milord," said the princess calmly. "Having just returned to Nohr after a long stay in Hoshido, I was as surprised as you."

Was she lying to him? She'd appeared at the gates of his castle alongside a delivery of flowers and wine for the ball celebrating Marui and Lissa's engagement, accompanied by her stepfather's offer of her hand and a ne'er-do-well with an axe as large as his body.

"He's this eager to get rid of you?"

"Or to gain your goodwill," she answered delicately.

Was she lying to him? The timing angered him immensely.

"By sending you here? Customarily, the pleasure of the bride's company is withheld until the marriage has been satisfactorily arranged."

"Your refusal is noted," she said, not without a certain heaviness.

His eyes narrowed. An outright refusal, in front of the man with the axe... his head burned. Could he afford to refuse Garon's offer without at least the pretense of consideration? Was she simply manipulating him into making a mistake?

"I said no such thing," he answered tightly. She inclined her head apologetically. "But my concern is with the engagement of my own princess, which you're interfering with."

She didn't contest his choice of verb, and his blood boiled.

"Like your princess, I am at the mercy of kings," she said. "I mean no disrespect to Lady Lissa."

But do you mean her harm? he wondered. Did Azura mean to displace her? The king's wife was necessarily given more authority than the king's sister. Yukimura didn't want that. He didn't want a wife for his own sake, there was nothing left within him that could love or cherish the princess before him nor any other, and he certainly didn't want a queen, who'd expect to see her own child on his throne in due time.

A queen would displace Lissa in the hierarchy of the court, and an heir would do the same in the line of succession. A perfect sabotage of his failsafe. A waste of Marui's and Lissa's sacrifices both-- not to mention the hints he'd tried to give them during their dance practice for tonight.

He had to play this intelligently-- even if he was starting late. He swallowed back the venom and vitriol he felt for this interloper and, hating himself for the debasement, stood, only to bow to her gallantly.

"Enjoy with us the festivities already planned," he said, more instructing than inviting. "We can talk more when I've discharged the business already in front of me."

"Yes, milord," she said, opaque as an iron wall.

Felicia -- delighted to be visited by a princess of her native land -- quickly escorted Azura and Hans, the axe man, to their lodgings, and Yukimura turned to his friends, pale and glowing with displeasure.

"I want to know why Nohr chose now to do this," he said, "but I will settle for what I should do to them in retaliation."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Bunta's warm confidence doesn't falter in the face of her response. It wasn't really a callout, because that would suggest Bunta had been making an effort to conceal what she had simply said in more blunt terms-- and shifted the focus more onto what she thought that said about her brother.

That was understandable. Lissa has been pretty sheltered so far to the inner workings of running a kingdom. Yukimura was an incredible person. He loved his friends and family, and he cared deeply about ensuring his kingdom's success and future. Those goals had price tags, sometimes in measure of human lives. Yukimura was a good king because he understood the gravity of that price, and didn't spend those lives meaninglessly.

But they did have to be spent sometimes. The burden of that responsibility probably isn't something Lissa has considered much before.

"You don't need to worry about that either," he says, and places his hand back on her shoulder, this time as a reassurance. "Being Lissa is enough."

It helps. It helps and she's grateful for it.

"Even if you not being as rich as Masaharu-kun was supposed to be provocative, I think he knew you'd be able to help me pull it off, too," she said decisively. "Seiichi knew you were the only one who wouldn't just make it look real, but make me make it look real, too."

Bunta smiles. Any praise is welcomed praise, but that comment made him particularly happy. She's right, too: every (serious) decision Yukimura made worked on at least two levels, and usually several more. As she'd noted, it was a lot of thinking.

"That so?" He asks, and offers his hand for another dance. "Well, let's not deny them a good show, then. Shall we?"

A show, huh? She could see Bunta's singer friend walking back to the stage and chatting with the orchestra conductor. A lot of others watched her, too... she commanded attention, but warmly. Bunta was the same way. They both tended to make a happy spectacle, didn't they?

Lissa could do warm, but she wasn't prone to asking for attention. It came to her, she thought, more because of what she was than who. Seeking attention was sort of obnoxious, but not the way they did it!

She hopped up the little bit of height difference between them and wrapped her arms tight around Bunta's neck, faces close.

"How's that?"

Suddenly, she's close!

Even though he was the one who'd said it-- a good show-- he hadn't quite expected her to take that kind of initiative, to that... kind of level.

He almost breaks character from surprise, a couple of moments' hesitation as he processes. He can feel her breath on his face and the shape of her body. It's... not as awkward as he'd have thought it would be. Well, he's glad she's comfortable enough with him to do something like this. The moment of surprise passes, and an expression of cheer and amusement returns to his face. He links his hands similarly at her lower back.

"Aren't you gutsy. I like it."

"Gutsy would be, what if we convinced Seiichi we actually wanted to get married? I mean, if he thinks so, everybody would, whether they wanted to or not!"

It's just another prank, isn't it? If people were going to be provoked by it, well, was that her fault?!

"Ooh, you could do something like, falling to your knees in the throne room and begging him to speed it up when you know there's already a bunch of people in there! Do you think he'd fall for that?!"

That's one joke that would be on her, isn't it? At least she's not fretting about dangers and brother burdens anymore.

"That would be even more gutsy. So, what happens after that?" He asks playfully. "King decrees royal wedding! Be there or else?"

"Oh, I could just run away at the last minute," she said airily. "He'd follow me and give me anything I wanted to get me back, and everything would go back to normal."

It... wouldn't, though. It still hasn't, since before he got sick.

"Don't know where that'd leave you, though!"

"Stranded at the altar? Not a chance!" He bantered.

"I bet Masaharu-kun would point out the wedding was Seiichi's idea in the first place, so HE could have it!"

She was fighting giggles, but... shouldn't she be seen laughing with her so-called husband-to-be?

"In a surprise twist, the king marries the groom instead... Well, it would certainly make headlines," he grins.

"But then you'd miss it from running away. You don't wanna miss your brother's wedding, do you?"

"He wouldn't have the right clothes on, either," she mused. "I guess I could sneak back in..."

Impulsively, she turned and waved at Seiichi on the dais. He lifted a hand in return, still smiling indecipherably.

"You were the right choice," she said, sincerely. "Genichiro-kun is a nice boy, but he'd be a servant to me, not a husband. Don't tell him, though, please?"

Bunta can't help a giggle this time.

"He really would...! Well, understanding their siblings is an older brother's job. You can tell how much he loves you because he pays attention to those things."

"We're going to have to make sure his grand plan works, then," she said, almost serious for a moment. "I mean, I'm not... he's been weird lately, he has, at least to me, but I still think he knows what he's doing."

...

No. He's not going to tell her. She doesn't need that. Frankly, neither does he.

"Yeah. It's been a bit weird. But he's still Yukimura-kun, after all. Try to give him some slack. He's been through a lot."

"Doesn't give him the right to take it out on me, but..."

She felt a little silly about her next thought.

"If he's using me in a plan, though, maybe it's... because he thinks I can actually help?"

Bunta thinks he understands where that musing is coming from.

"Yeah? What do you think your mission is, then?"

"That'd be too easy, if I knew."

The idea of pranking him was that much more appealing, if taken in that context.

"Judging by what I did in St. Rudolph, he would most likely want me to ruin everything for whoever talks to me disrespectfully."

Bunta can't argue with her on that. Yukimura would want to make sure no one felt tempted to be disrespectful to her twice. At the same time, Bunta doubted Yukimura wanted her personally to be the one to ruin everything for them. He cherished her innocence. That was what minions were for!

"Well, I know what your mission is," he teased, sticking just the tip of his tongue out. "And you'd hate it if you knew!"

Prince of Fire Emblem: Gray Waves

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