this secret...
Minako resents being summoned to the Moon so abruptly. Her parents tellher that it was long ago foreordained, but she does not remember them ever mentioning that to her and why should she have to obey when she'd much rather remain on Venus. Her tutor, Artemis, is firm. He was sent by the Moon years and years ago, after all, to see that her education was satisfactory for her future duties, he explains finally.
But she is not speaking to him. She is tossing things at random from her room into yet another chest that will become part of her luggage and travel to the Moon with her. He is standing in the doorway, just watching her now as she engages in a fit of pique and throws a very quiet tantrum. At least it is quiet, no doubt he thinks, and she tosses the next book a little harder. It lands with a solid thump and she turns back to surveying her room, a cloak of blonde hair tossed about her head with every jerking motion.
“Minako,” he finally begins. She stiffens, hands clenching on the hand mirror she'd just selected from her dressing table. She doesn't turn to face him, for that is the right of any royal who is being addressed by someone of lesser rank. That and she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the tears that she's been fighting back since he entered. “Princess,” he amends when she doesn't turn. “This has always been your destiny.”
At the word destiny despair turns to rich, hot anger. She turns and flings the mirror at him, which he had no reason to dodge, for her aim is horrendous. The crash that follows shocks them both into silence. He looks at her for a long time but knows that arguing with her is something that will get them no where.
He speaks anyway. “At least you will be able to see your intended again. It has been all too long since you've seen the marquess.” He said in mock-cheer. She stiffened her lower jaw, yet another verbal lash falling between her shoulder blades.
“Of course, Sir Artemis. I should rejoice to lose every freedom I have enjoyed thus far in my life. Why would I ever be so silly as to want something else?” she says bitterly, wanting so badly for him to hurt as much as she does in that moment. He simply grows quiet, nodding softly to himself.
“The ship leaves in the morning, princess, whether you are ready or not.”
The click of the door closing behind him bring the tears in full force. She throws herself on her bed, clutching a pillow, and cries herself to sleep.
- - -
She oversleeps. None of the court is surprised, for the princess often sleeps later than is perhaps proper, but today she had wanted to wake with the dawn. She has something she must do before she leaves for the Moon, but with her maids fussing and an escort impatient, she sees no way to slip away. Despair rises in her as she is led from her chambers to the port, where she will have a formal farewell with her parents and then be ushered aboard the ship and flown to the Moon.
It is not her parents that she wishes to see before this. They will write to her, will visit when time permits. It is him. He is her secret. She was betrothed to some marquess of Earth when she was but a child, but she does not love him. How could she love a man who has sent her perhaps two letters in the last five years? He obviously has as little regard for her as she for him, which suits Minako just fine.
He loves her, though. He is no marquess of Earth, but a duke in his own right of her own homeland.
She sees him among all the others who await her at the port, and her throat closes. She does not know what to say, what to think, but he offers her a sad smile and she wants to grasp his hand reassuringly. That would be terribly improper, and under the gaze of so many she would not dare. So when he mutters a mournful “Your Highness,” as she passes, she pauses and turns to him.
“Your Grace,” she replies. Adonis raises his eyes to meet her eyes. His eyes are such a lovely hazel, and she has often been lost in them. She produces from her sleeve a handkerchief. It is not much, but she hopes he will remember her, stay loyal to her, until she can find a way back to him. She slips it into his hand, to the mutters and shock of those around her. She has never made a formal overture to him at all, and he looks shocked that she does not.
“Thank you, your Highness.” he bows again, but she remembers the faint touch of his fingers on hers as he accepted the hand embroidered cloth. She inclines her head and moves on to the formal farewell, and the loss of her freedom.
- - -
She has been on the Moon for three months. She has become a senshi, and her life has become a blur of aching muscles, sweat, and training. She was not a warrior on Venus, and she resents that she seems to fall farthest behind the other senshi in training.
She long ago decided she did not much like the other senshi. Princess Serenity is the exception. She was such a sweet girl that Minako could not dislike her. But she is not a proper exception, for she is not a senshi herself. It is her guardians that drive Minako batty, and she has no intention of remedying that problem between them.
A delegation from Earth arrived the night before, but has not formally been presented to the court. Minako stands beside her princess, this time dressed in a formal gown from her home rather than the unseemly senshi uniform. She is thankful for that. As she waits, she pointedly does not think of her intended husband, who is among the party. Instead, she thinks on Adonis and his latest letter from him. He claims to miss her with all of his soul, and she glows with such praise.
The delegation are announced as is formal, and Minako raises an eyebrow to hear that their crowned prince is among them. She had not expected that. The five men that stride the length of the ballroom are uninteresting to Minako, and she cannot chose from among them which she is to marry. She has a faint memory that he is blonde, but three of the men are blonde and that tells her nothing.
The prince bows only slightly to Queen Serenity, and not at all to the rest of them. Their ranks are equal, she would not expect him to. Each man in turn is presented, and it is the first among them that she now studies with interest and a little hate in her cornflower blue eyes.
Kunzite. He is very tall, she notes, and the white-blonde hair is still present. She remembers it more keenly now. His uniform is pristine, and the long cloak he wears is distracting at best. He is obviously a military man, and she finds herself uninterested.
“Your Majesty,” Kunzite speaks up. “With your permission, I would like to extend a greeting to my fiance,” he bows low. He is no prince of such a realm, but only a marquess. To speak so freely to the Queen is nearly an insult, but the Queen does not deny him his request. He steps forward and bows before her. She remains unimpressed.
“Princess Minako,” he speaks, and her stomach tightens. Something about the way his mouth formed those words set her off center.
“Marquess Kunzite,” she replies, nodding her head. Her discomfort is not something she shows to him, though she keeps a keen eye on him during the rest of the proceedings and makes an excuse of being lightheaded to retreat to her rooms as soon as she can.
But she is not speaking to him. She is tossing things at random from her room into yet another chest that will become part of her luggage and travel to the Moon with her. He is standing in the doorway, just watching her now as she engages in a fit of pique and throws a very quiet tantrum. At least it is quiet, no doubt he thinks, and she tosses the next book a little harder. It lands with a solid thump and she turns back to surveying her room, a cloak of blonde hair tossed about her head with every jerking motion.
“Minako,” he finally begins. She stiffens, hands clenching on the hand mirror she'd just selected from her dressing table. She doesn't turn to face him, for that is the right of any royal who is being addressed by someone of lesser rank. That and she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing the tears that she's been fighting back since he entered. “Princess,” he amends when she doesn't turn. “This has always been your destiny.”
At the word destiny despair turns to rich, hot anger. She turns and flings the mirror at him, which he had no reason to dodge, for her aim is horrendous. The crash that follows shocks them both into silence. He looks at her for a long time but knows that arguing with her is something that will get them no where.
He speaks anyway. “At least you will be able to see your intended again. It has been all too long since you've seen the marquess.” He said in mock-cheer. She stiffened her lower jaw, yet another verbal lash falling between her shoulder blades.
“Of course, Sir Artemis. I should rejoice to lose every freedom I have enjoyed thus far in my life. Why would I ever be so silly as to want something else?” she says bitterly, wanting so badly for him to hurt as much as she does in that moment. He simply grows quiet, nodding softly to himself.
“The ship leaves in the morning, princess, whether you are ready or not.”
The click of the door closing behind him bring the tears in full force. She throws herself on her bed, clutching a pillow, and cries herself to sleep.
- - -
She oversleeps. None of the court is surprised, for the princess often sleeps later than is perhaps proper, but today she had wanted to wake with the dawn. She has something she must do before she leaves for the Moon, but with her maids fussing and an escort impatient, she sees no way to slip away. Despair rises in her as she is led from her chambers to the port, where she will have a formal farewell with her parents and then be ushered aboard the ship and flown to the Moon.
It is not her parents that she wishes to see before this. They will write to her, will visit when time permits. It is him. He is her secret. She was betrothed to some marquess of Earth when she was but a child, but she does not love him. How could she love a man who has sent her perhaps two letters in the last five years? He obviously has as little regard for her as she for him, which suits Minako just fine.
He loves her, though. He is no marquess of Earth, but a duke in his own right of her own homeland.
She sees him among all the others who await her at the port, and her throat closes. She does not know what to say, what to think, but he offers her a sad smile and she wants to grasp his hand reassuringly. That would be terribly improper, and under the gaze of so many she would not dare. So when he mutters a mournful “Your Highness,” as she passes, she pauses and turns to him.
“Your Grace,” she replies. Adonis raises his eyes to meet her eyes. His eyes are such a lovely hazel, and she has often been lost in them. She produces from her sleeve a handkerchief. It is not much, but she hopes he will remember her, stay loyal to her, until she can find a way back to him. She slips it into his hand, to the mutters and shock of those around her. She has never made a formal overture to him at all, and he looks shocked that she does not.
“Thank you, your Highness.” he bows again, but she remembers the faint touch of his fingers on hers as he accepted the hand embroidered cloth. She inclines her head and moves on to the formal farewell, and the loss of her freedom.
- - -
She has been on the Moon for three months. She has become a senshi, and her life has become a blur of aching muscles, sweat, and training. She was not a warrior on Venus, and she resents that she seems to fall farthest behind the other senshi in training.
She long ago decided she did not much like the other senshi. Princess Serenity is the exception. She was such a sweet girl that Minako could not dislike her. But she is not a proper exception, for she is not a senshi herself. It is her guardians that drive Minako batty, and she has no intention of remedying that problem between them.
A delegation from Earth arrived the night before, but has not formally been presented to the court. Minako stands beside her princess, this time dressed in a formal gown from her home rather than the unseemly senshi uniform. She is thankful for that. As she waits, she pointedly does not think of her intended husband, who is among the party. Instead, she thinks on Adonis and his latest letter from him. He claims to miss her with all of his soul, and she glows with such praise.
The delegation are announced as is formal, and Minako raises an eyebrow to hear that their crowned prince is among them. She had not expected that. The five men that stride the length of the ballroom are uninteresting to Minako, and she cannot chose from among them which she is to marry. She has a faint memory that he is blonde, but three of the men are blonde and that tells her nothing.
The prince bows only slightly to Queen Serenity, and not at all to the rest of them. Their ranks are equal, she would not expect him to. Each man in turn is presented, and it is the first among them that she now studies with interest and a little hate in her cornflower blue eyes.
Kunzite. He is very tall, she notes, and the white-blonde hair is still present. She remembers it more keenly now. His uniform is pristine, and the long cloak he wears is distracting at best. He is obviously a military man, and she finds herself uninterested.
“Your Majesty,” Kunzite speaks up. “With your permission, I would like to extend a greeting to my fiance,” he bows low. He is no prince of such a realm, but only a marquess. To speak so freely to the Queen is nearly an insult, but the Queen does not deny him his request. He steps forward and bows before her. She remains unimpressed.
“Princess Minako,” he speaks, and her stomach tightens. Something about the way his mouth formed those words set her off center.
“Marquess Kunzite,” she replies, nodding her head. Her discomfort is not something she shows to him, though she keeps a keen eye on him during the rest of the proceedings and makes an excuse of being lightheaded to retreat to her rooms as soon as she can.