Nipped in the Bud

By Kez Sharrow

Cherry blossoms drifted like snowflakes over the princess, reminding Sendai of that fateful night. He shook a petal off his helmet. An imperial guard on duty shouldn’t let his thoughts wander. Total vigilance, not sweet distraction.

The prince, on the bough above them, shook down more blossoms. Seventeen winters may have brought the princess an entrancing grace, but her twin still acted the child. Sendai would wager a new sword that the prince hadn’t sought his sister out today for play.

Sendai thanked the Goddess again that the prince was longsuffering Vikta’s charge, not his; it was hard enough keeping the princess safe from her brother’s schemes.

“Adon, leave some on the trees.” The princess lifted her hands. “Mama and Baba will come down this evening… if there are any blossoms left for them to view!”

“It’s spring, Lani.” He shook the bough harder. “Flowers, birds, and lambs are all telling us to wake up.”

Lani was a lamb, Sendai thought uneasily. Just as trusting, and just as defenseless.

“Snow’s gone, sap’s surging—it’s time to do something after being stuck inside so long.” Adon swung to the ground beside his sister.

“And you have a particular ‘something’ in mind?” She raised one eyebrow.

Adon’s gaze flicked to Sendai as the prince leaned in to whisper in her ear.

Her eyes widened. “You think so?”

He pulled her forward. “Pretty sure. That’s why we need to investigate.”

Sendai and Vikta hurried after their charges. If the prince didn’t want them to hear, this scheme was worse than he’d imagined.

“But what does Rai say?” The princess stopped to pick a blossom from the ground.

The prince waved dismissively. “Our big brother has old bones. Wants to wait for heronja spies to investigate first, but they’re occupied with other missions. So Rai, who’s never felt spring, even in a fingertip, is still holed up inside, reading reports and thinking how to slow down the progress of the empire.”

“But surely there’s a time for caution too, even in spring. What do you think, Sendai?” She turned, extending a single blossom to him. It was delicate and soft, with a faint blush like a maiden’s cheek. So fragile. So lovely it made his chest ache. So easily crushed by a rough hand.

He realized he’d paused too long when she tilted her head, her amber eyes curious.

“Come on, Lani.” Adon elbowed her, and blossoms from her cloak tumbled to the ground. “Sendai’s on Team Rai, of course. He wishes it were winter every day so he could lock us up in the fortress and throw away the key! Much easier to guard that way.” He tried to pull his sister away, but she remained, staring at Sendai. Waiting for his reply.

He took a deep breath. She’d always chattered to him about her cares and joys as they moved around the palace. When her brothers got busy with palace affairs, he’d been the only one around to listen. But after that snowy night at Lantern Festival, something had shifted. The tiniest of breaches. But now she wanted to listen. To him.

“Well?” She smiled.

Sendai’s throat went dry. He cleared it, then turned to the prince. “You’re correct, Second Prince. And as safety is my priority, I’m curious about the nature of this… investigation you’re inviting the princess to.” That sounded neutral.

“Ha!” The prince’s face twisted. “Lani’s safety might be your priority, but you guards’d be breaking open the rice wine if I accidentally fell off a cliff.”

Not entirely wrong. But they’d die before they let him take the princess over with him.

Lani eyed Adon. “So we can tell Sendai how you’re planning to fall off a cliff this time?”

“You can laugh, but this plan might save the empire!”

Save the empire like the time he went to battle giant spiders, or hid with the heronja for two months, or the flaming disaster in the eel caves. Sendai’s grip tightened on his sword.

“Don’t give him your stone face, Sendai.” Her warm eyes looked up into his. “Adon does have good ideas—”

“Of course I do!”

“—amid the crazy ones.”

She laid a hand on Sendai’s arm. He froze, every nerve aware of her soft hand, breaking protocol and breaking something open inside him. How could he maintain the detachment a guard needed when all he wanted was to cover her hand with his own rough palm?

“So here’s Adon’s plan. You can give us your opinion, Sendai. He believes that there’s some kind of Tirani plot against our family—”

“The throne is unstable until Rai takes the throne!” The prince threw up his hands.

Sendai pulled his attention from her touch back to the prince. No danger was so great as a fool with a cause.

“And he wants us to go, disguised of course, to a tavern the Tirani frequent, to discover their plot.”

O great goddess above.

“It’s what we don’t know that’s going to kill us.” The prince crossed his arms.

Sendai gritted his teeth. Madness was madness, in any season. “In a tavern, you’d be vulnerable. The princess would be vulnerable to an unacceptable degree.”

“This is why we shouldn’t have told you.”

“Sendai’s opinion is important to me.” Lani’s expression shot an arrow through him.

Goddess of Honor, save him! That night on the balcony he’d sparked a brush fire that could destroy them all. He realized he was moving toward her, breathing hard as in combat.

Breaking the protocol that protected her.

Tearing his burning gaze from hers, Sendai decided.

He was an imperial guard, made for steel not flowers.

Sendai turned to her brother. “General Chao will hear this plan and double the guard.” He sucked a breath into lungs too tight. “I’ll ask to be re-assigned—”

The princess gasped.

“—to you.” He looked at the prince, avoiding those amber eyes. “For the princess’s safety, this needs to be nipped in the bud.”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kez Sharrow is an emergent unicorn living in Wuhan. By day she dabbles in the alchemy of human transformation as a leadership coach. Early mornings and weekends, she creates worlds out of smoke and dragon’s breath. Kez belongs to the tribe of the uprooted and transplanted, those who live between cultures, and she writes stories of travelers in fantasy worlds.

---

More Stories | Author Website | Facebook