Work Text:
“Kisumi has arrived, your highness.”
I look up from the table in front of me.
“Thank you, Seijuro.”
The captain of my guard nods at me, before retreating back out of the hall, doubtless going to the market to investigate the rash of thefts that have occurred in the past few weeks.
I look down at the documents spread on the table before me. A resigned sigh slips past my lips.
I look up in slight surprise when a warm hand settles on my shoulder. Sousuke, my adviser and closest friend, smiles comfortingly.
“This can wait a while, Your Highness.”
His hand squeezes slightly, fingers kneading the stiff muscle.
I sigh again, and lean back on the palms of my hands.
“I hate this.”
I grumble. I hear him chuckle beside me, and my eyes slide to meet his. I crack a smile, then shrug off his hand and stand.
“Alright, enough of this whining, Sousuke. You know politics are important, both for our economy and our people.” I shoot him a mock disapproving look, and he rolls his eyes at me, before standing and walking briskly to the curtain, which he opens with a low bow.
I swagger towards him, chin tipped up as far as possible while still being able to see the floor. Just as I reach him, I stumble over a cast-aside throw pillow, one hand reaching to grab onto the dark maroon curtain I was about to pass through, the other latching onto Sousuke’s dark hair. We both tumble to the ground, and unfortunately, since we are both holding the curtain separating the private council hall from the Great Hall, it comes down with us, burying us under its many folds.
As I grapple around, searching for an opening in the heavy fabric, a strong hand latches onto my shoulder sash, pulling me up and out of my temporary burial.
I blink against the sudden light, and sneeze at the dust swirling around us.
“You know, I think I should have Nitori scold the servants. This is not befitting for a Sultan!” I thump the wrinkled fabric in my lap emphatically, and sneeze again when another cloud of dust engulfs me.
I flick my eyes over to my friend sitting beside me, noting his grimace as he rubs his head. On the inside I wince sympathetically, but allow no emotions to taint my features.
“You should grow it out. Would really help in situations like this, I believe.” I remark coolly.
He looks up at me, half-sullen and half-amused.
“You are blaming my hair for this?”
A ripple of murmers catches my attention, and I cast my gaze out across the Great Hall, surveying the various merchants, servants, and foreign ambassadors scattered throughout it.
All staring up at us.
I rise to my feet, the very picture of dignified grace, and hand a bundled-up portion of red cloth to a shocked servant standing nearby.
“Sousuke. How many times must I tell you, pay attention to where your feet take you.” I shake my head in exasperation and lift my hands, palms up.
My lips twitch a bit as I glide down the dais steps, robe sweeping grandly behind me. Sousuke mumbles darkly under his breath as he gets to his feet and catches up to me, shooting me a sideways glare.
Heads bow as we pass, whispers starting up again as soon as our backs are to them.
As always, it seems.
We step out of the Great Hall, and turn right, crossing through a garden, turn left, crossing through a garden, and turn left again, crossing through yet another garden.
“Who designed this place? Whoever it was, get rid of them—” I wave my hand, gesturing to the abounding plants and flowers surrounding us.
“Habuuk IV,” Sousuke drones tiredly, “And he passed away thirty-two years ago.”
“—and put in something else. A bathhouse, maybe—”
“You already have eight bathhouses in this wing alone.”
“—or a pool; something… fun.” I snap my fingers excitedly.
“Or, or, or, even a stage for musicians to come play at!” I raise my eyebrows at him. “Huh? Huh? Pretty creative, right?”
I wink at him, and smirk when his cheeks turn slightly pink. He scoffs.
“You do realize that you are not actually swimming in money.”
We have reached our destination; Kisumi turns at hearing Sousuke’s voice, light pink hair swooshing captivatingly in the breeze.
I raise my arms in an exaggerated shrug.
“Who needs to swim? I can roll.”
I grin at my best friend, before turning my attention to Kisumi.
And, more importantly, his cargo.
Three figures are kneeling in the dirt behind him, woven brown sacks tossed over their heads. Two of the figures are smaller; women. The other one is bigger, broader; most definitely male. I itch to grab the sack from his head, to see his face, but hold myself back.
“Kisumi, Kisumi, Kisumi… I expected you a week ago!”
My tone is falsely light, eyes narrowing on the trader’s own. The flamboyant young man is nervous, I can tell, but he covers it well; I barely even notice the slight bump in his throat as he swallows.
“Your Highness, the seas are rough, and very dangerous; especially with pirates lurking in waters near these.”
I raise my eyebrows, displaying just how impressed I am.
Which is not very.
“In fact,” he continues hurriedly, “We ran in to a pirate ship while crossing the great ocean; a bloody fight ensued, of course, with the greedy bastards attempting to claim our treasures, and us defending them. Many good men died that day.”
Here he casts his eyes downward in solemn remembrance.
I shift impatiently, eyes flicking back to the broad-shouldered man.
“And of course, you have raised your prices to help compensate for your many losses.” I state smoothly.
Kisumi looks up, eyes wide.
“Well…! You are such a kind, generous Sultan; I truly never considered getting something in return for my men losing their lives defending cargo we work tirelessly to deliver to you. Among others.”
I hear Sousuke snort behind me.
“Yes, yes, you are too helpful. However… I’m sure you agree that it is only fair I actually get to see that which you worked so tirelessly to protect.”
I incline my head meaningfully at the man kneeling in the dirt behind him.
Pink hair dances around the man’s smiling face, and he turns, lifting the sack from the bigger man’s head.
Disappointment curdles in my stomach; he is nothing special. Brown skin, brown hair, hazel eyes… common around here. I flick my wrist in dismissal, but Kisumi’s smile doesn't fade; in fact, it seems to grow.
“I didn't think he was quite your type… one of the others, though, might just tickle your fancy.” He splays his hand out, showing off his wares just as a merchant shows off his fresh fruits at the market.
Sousuke shifts behind me, and I can practically feel the disgust radiating off him.
I can’t help a slight noise of disbelief from escaping me; Kisumi has been stopping by the palace for years now.
He knows women aren't to my taste.
I quirk an eyebrow emphatically. He lifts the sack from one of them with a flourish; she is fair skinned, with pretty, slightly wavy brown hair. I stare at her contemplatively.
Gou has been looking for a companion; she might just do nicely.
“I’ll take her.”
I dig in my pocket for some coins, then, finding none, resort to reaching my hands back and digging in Sousuke’s pockets for some. I hear a huff of laughter from Kisumi, and a quiet, resigned sigh from Sousuke.
I grin up at my dear friend. He returns it with a small upturn of his lips, shaking his head slightly. My search proved worthy, though, and I now had a few coins in each hand.
“How much?” I ask, ready to be done with this business, so I can stop by the kitchens and sweet talk one of the cooks into a glass of fresh lemonade.
Kisumi rubs his chin thoughtfully.
“Two.” He says at last, hunger glinting in his light-colored eyes.
I drop the coins into his outstretched palm; it’s a fair price, considering the trouble he apparently went through to get her to me.
I pass my eyes over the last figure disinterestedly. Kisumi notices my look, and tuts, wiggling his finger in front of my face. I scowl; I don’t like people getting close to me.
I like getting close to other people.
Sousuke rests his hand on the hilt of his sword in an unspoken warning; one that Kisumi is smart enough to head, and he backs off.
“I think you will like this one, Your Highness. We actually acquired him on our way to you; he is—was—one of the pirates who attacked us.”
This sparks an interest in me, before my mind fully catches up to what the trader is saying.
“Uhumm—he?” I ask, quizzical.
Kisumi steps to the side, giving me a closer look at the figure.
A dark blue shirt, speckled with holes, covers the figure from neck to hips. Brown trousers, patched up in places and thinning at the knees, cover from hips to mid-calves. No shoes.
Kisumi must notice the direction of my gaze, for he explains, “We had to take his shoes. He sawed them against a wooden post on our ship until they sharpened to a point, then kicked one of the crewmen and tried to take his key.”
I raise my eyebrows. It would be impressive, if actually true.
“They were wooden ones.” Kisumi mentions, as if that is a note of importance.
I stare at the hooded figure—ah, no, hooded man—in curiosity. I wave my hand at Kisumi, and he inclines his head in response, a grin taking over his face as he lifts the sack.
I feel Sousuke stiffen behind me.
Dark hair sweeps across his forehead, a sharp contrast to his pearly skin. Light pink lips are slightly open, attempting to draw breath in the stifling heat.
Poor thing.
If he is indeed a pirate, he is probably more comfortable with the cool, fresh air accompanying the seas.
I take a step back, bumping into Sousuke, who scoffs and shuffles back.
I admire the young man’s figure for a moment. His eyes are closed, dark lashes fanning across his cheekbones. And they are very, very fine cheekbones.
“What is his name?” I direct towards Kisumi.
He shrugs.
“Haven’t a clue. We've asked him, but he hasn't spoken a word.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“Hasn't spoken at all?”
My gaze turns calculative.
Well, won’t this be fun.
I glance down at the remaining coins in my hand. Flash a significant look to Kisumi, and am surprised to find him not focused on me.
His gaze is on the young man; a look I easily recognize. I clear my throat loudly, and watch his attention snap to me. His face pales slightly at my glower.
“And, ah, just what… means did you attempt to get him to speak?”
He swallows, hands raising defensively.
“None of the men laid a hand on him, Your Majesty. I know you prefer your purchases… clean.”
Sousuke snorts in derision, shifting on his feet impatiently.
I ignore him.
“How much for him?” Kisumi frowns, deep in false thought, and rubs a hand through his hair for added effect.
Now it is me shifting impatiently, flicking my gaze back to the young man. Kisumi splays his hand out towards me.
“Five.”
“Five?” Sousuke repeats incredulously from behind me.
“I’ll take it.” I interject, before Kisumi can get offended. Sousuke growls under his breath as I pour the coins into Kisumi’s open palm.
He nods in appreciation, smile wide.
“Pleasure coming to your lovely abode, Your Highness. As always.”