Always by Your Side: Chapter 3
An Akagami no Shirayuki-hime (Snow White with the Red Hair) Fanfic
“Miss! There you are!”
“Obi!” She glances around, making sure Ryuu has disappeared into the fields. Thankfully there’s no one else in sight.
“Prince Raj has arrived at the palace.”
She squeaks and nearly drops her basket. “Today? Already?”
“He’s on his way to the garden now with both Clarinese princes. Let’s go.”
Technically, she doesn’t have to. Obi is the one with spying experience, he’s the one who knows how to sift through lies and secrets to find the truth underneath, and he’s the one her father suggested sending in the first place.
She finds a flat place to leave her basket and runs after him. When she catches up, she slides her hand in his. His fingers twitch, the only acknowledgment of her action.
“Master gave me the afternoon off,” he says without slowing or taking his eyes off the path. “It’s almost like he wants me to eavesdrop. He should have given me something to do if he didn’t.”
“If he did, you’d just do both.” Her father had learned that the hard way.
He flashes a grin over his shoulder. “But he doesn’t know that.”
The “garden” he leads her to is hardly deserving of the name. The greenhouses she works in, the terraced fields, those are gardens–manicured and tended carefully so nothing unwanted appears–but gardens still. This is a smooth, unbroken sheet of unnatural grass, edged in stone paths and perfectly trimmed hedges. The only visible flowers rest in elegant pots.
She wrinkles her nose when she sees it. Obi lets go of her hand and perches against the gate. He turns, catches sight of her expression, and laughs.
The sound of voices drifts closer, and she glances around. Obi’s hand comes down on her head, pushing it down. “Keep your head down. You kind of stick out.”
She whirls around and sticks her tongue out at him. He sticks his out too.
“Your highness, I heard you have a new messenger,” a voice says, rather close by. Obi freezes.
“What is it?” she whispers.
“That’s Lord Haruki.”
“So?”
Obi ignores her and leans closer to the gate. She pokes him in the side. “Are you scared?”
He bats her hand away. “No! Shush!”
“Zen!” the first prince calls, and Shirayuki leans closer now too. “What did you two discuss when you met before?”
“He’s with Prince Raj,” Obi hisses. Shirayuki swallows.
This is what they came for. Relations between Clarines and Tanbarun have been . . . civil for some time, but it likely wouldn’t be long before the next king was crowned in Clarines, and they needed to know how he would react if something happened to Tanbarun’s king.
Raj is too weak to be king. If his father dies . . . will that be the end of Tanbarun?
She hopes not.
But Izana, far from discussing a potential alliance, asks about, of all things, her. There must be more here than she understands. She can’t imagine he would just throw away relations with Tanbarun like this just to make her leave. But he just keeps talking about her. Both Zen and Raj are getting antsy, and any second, one of them will snap–
“I heard that Zen is considering marrying her.”
–and do something stupid.
The other conversations don’t stop, they just . . . shrink, enough to hear every word the princes say.
Shirayuki dares to peek over the railing just a bit. Zen looks just as shocked as everyone else. Well. There goes Obi’s theory about him being in love with her. She glances over at his brother–and regrets it. Izana is angry. Tension is in every line of his posture, and he pinches his nose between his fingers like her Opa used to do when he didn’t want to shout.
She ducks back down and huddles against the wall. He’ll definitely want to send her back to Tanbarun now.
Obi grabs her hand and leads her away. “My master and Prince Raj are gone, so I doubt we’ll get anything else today.”
Shirayuki squeezes his hand. “Obi, I’m so sorry. Have I ruined it all?”
He turns and raises an eyebrow. “Of course not. None of this is your fault. I don’t know what his highness expected, bringing that idiot prince here. It’s his fault and he knows it.”
She frowns. “Still, he probably hates me, doesn’t he?”
“You’re very good at winning people over.” His lips twist into a smirk, and she lets out a sigh, knowing everything will be okay. “But I doubt you two will be chatting over tea anytime soon.”
Obi has been weirdly clingy ever since Prince Raj arrived that morning, so when the leaves of the tree outside her bedroom window rustle, she knows not to assume it’s the wind.
Sure enough, when she opens the window, he’s there, stretched out along the branch like he’s about to fall asleep.
“What are you doing?”
He doesn’t bother to open his eyes. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
She crosses her arms. “Is this because of Raj?”
His face tightens. “He sent you poisoned apples. I’m not taking any chances.” He shifts on the branch, letting one leg hang over it. She grimaces. She knows by now that he won’t fall, but it pains her to think what he might be doing to his back.
“Someone will see you out here.” Nothing. “Won’t you at least come inside?”
“It wouldn’t be proper.”
Since when do you care? she wants to ask, but she knows that won’t fix the problem. Instead she leans over the window sill and does her best to look as young and helpless as people always assume she is.
“But, Obi,” she whines, “I’m cold."
One eye cracks open suspiciously. “In this weather?”
She pouts. “I’m sure it feels nice out there, but in here with the windows closed and no fire . . .” She wraps her arms around herself and shivers. “And the floor is stone. My feet are frozen.”
He still doesn’t move. “Besides, you know I always get cold at night.” That’s not exactly true, but she’s been saying it for years, and he’s never contradicted her. The fact that she always ends up wrapped in his arms every time he sleeps in her room probably convinces him more than her words.
He sits up straighter, and she knows she has him. He crosses his arms and puts up one last fight. “Your prince wouldn’t like it.”
She crosses her arms as well and stares right back. “Well it’s none of his business who’s in my bed.” She regrets her choice of words as a smirk spreads across his face. Heat creeps up her neck. “Just get in here if you’re coming.”
She spins around, pointedly not looking at him as she locks her door. She glances back to find him inside and the window already shut and latched.
He doesn’t look at her as he shrugs out of his shirt and tosses it onto the chair by her desk. Then he spots the bed. “Sheesh, you think this is big enough?” he asks dryly.
It is a little ridiculous for one person. Her bed back home had been nearly half the size.
“I bet we could fit five of the other lions in here with us, and then squish Kazuki down at the end.”
She can’t help but giggle at the image. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Oh, yeah, my bad. You’re so tiny we could squeeze you in with Kazuki, and then–”
“Obi!” He grins at her, and her heart falls into a familiar, irregular rhythm. The candle beside her bed does nothing to help as it throws the planes of his body into stark relief. If her face gets any hotter, he’ll never believe her claims of being cold again. “I’m tired. We should, um . . .” She drags her eyes away from him and crawls into bed. She stares at the ceiling, praying her heart slows down before he gets close. She shouldn’t have worried. After getting under the covers, he stays all the way on the other side of the bed, leaving far too much space between them.
He stares up at the ceiling, lost in thoughts that drag him further from her. It’s dark enough that she can’t see the scars she knows cover his back. Her hand crosses the chasm between them, and out of habit, lays over the largest scar slashed across his back. It’s just behind his heart, and she wonders if she could feel it beat if she pressed just a bit harder. “Obi?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m still cold.” In a few minutes, the blankets will grow warm with her own body heat. Her fingers twitch against him, soaking in his warmth.
He rolls over to face her and smiles. “Well we can’t have that.” His arms slide around her, pulling her against him. She tucks her head against his chest and drifts off, surrounded by the comfort of his warmth and scent.