Chapter Text
Deep within the boughs of the great cherry tree, there lived a princess, and she lived alone.
She knew two things about herself. One, she was the queen’s most precious firstborn, and two, she was not the king’s. Although the king wished to be rid of the bastard child, her mother and grandfather forced him to spare her the fate of death. As so, for the crime of her birth, she was locked away in the highest tower, where he never had to look at her again.
But the day came when he was finally forced to acknowledge her, ‘lest well-kept secrets be revealed to his subjects. And so on the night of her 150th birthday, she was introduced to the court. On that night, she made a wish. One, simple wish now that she was freed from her cage.
She wished for a friend. A companion with whom she could share her joys and her woes. Someone who would be with her not out of obligation or familial bond, but because they enjoyed her company, and she theirs.
The wind cradled her wish and carried it to the far reaches of the fairy courts, searching for a recipient. It carried it far, past the summer fields, the autumn woods, to the deep mountains of winter. And unbeknownst to even him, the lord answered.
-the ceremony-
"Your Highness, it is time."
The princess stood from her place at the vanity. They'd painted her lips with crushed berries, dusted her cheeks with powdered moon pearls. Her hair, the silken pitch that it was, fell to her knees, nacre beads woven into the braids that tied together at the back of her head. The long, draping hanfu they'd dressed her in rippled like waves across an unsteady pond as she turned to the attendant. It was the color of snow, white and shimmering in the light, with intricate embroidery and a sash dyed as red as the poppies that dotted the fields outside the Court.
She fiddled with her sleeves, looking out the window to her old, silent companion, the strawberry-pink moon of the Spring Wylds, for reassurance. The Seijin-shiki was an old tradition, where the children of high ranking nobles or royalty in the Spring courts would be introduced formally to the court as an adult, customarily on their first centennial. She would be presented before the citizens and diplomats and given a name to proclaim her heir to the throne.. The king opposed it for as long as he could, but whispers began to fly when fifty years after her 100th birthday, she still hadn't been seen in court.
She knew the cover story the king made for her absence. She was born sick, and needed to be sheltered so that the heir to the Sakura Throne would be safe. She often wondered with a smile how furious he felt each time he referred to her as ‘heir’. She knew from an early age how much that man hated her existence. Bastards weren’t altogether uncommon for the fey, for they often sought out a multitude of lovers during their unaging lives. In the king’s case, however, she was a living reminder that he did not have total control over his queen. For a man that sought power above all else, her very existence was an insult to his ego. And now he would be forced to acknowledge her title to all of the Wylds.
The princess smiled and nodded to her attendant. She would be lying if she said she wasn't nervous. Anxiety and jubilation beat in her heart side by side. The joy of finally seeing the world outside of her room, the fear of how she would be appraised by the court. She thought she might drown in this veritable tsunami of feelings, for any emotion felt by fairies was stronger, deeper than most, but she'd studied her books and practiced for hours. She'd dreamed about this moment since learning about the Seijin-shiki.
The first step outside of her room felt like a weight being lifted off her shoulders, the first breath after being submerged under water until her lungs ached. A group of four guards flanked her, two on either side, as she descended the spiraling staircase from her tower. Her attendant carried the yards long train of her dress behind her as to not sully it on the dusty steps. Already she could hear the celebration. The crash of cymbals ringing across the courtyard, the court subjects shouting and laughing. A performance must have been going on, for she heard a lull in the crowd before a loud cry, which was followed by echoing, delighted cheers from the audience. She wondered what their reaction would be upon first seeing her tonight.
Her family was waiting for her at the main doors of the imperial palace. Upon seeing the princess, Queen Hajime rushed towards her.
"Oh, my precious little ruby,” she exclaimed, using the nickname they called her before she would be given a Court name, “You look beautiful.” Hajime was as lovely as ever in her imperial splendor, the gold accents to her violet hanfu complementing her eyes. She’d just begun to allow her age -- over four thousand years old -- to show, with a few fine lines crinkling with her smiles. The princess was proud she looked just like her, from their iridescent black hair down to the shimmering patterns on their wings.
"Thank you, Mama," she replied, trying not to grasp at the easily-wrinkled silk. At this point, being so close to the public, her nerves were frayed. She didn't know whether she might faint or throw up.
The stern visage of the previous king Haoran, father to the ruling king and grandfather to the princess, melted to a warm smile as he also approached. "You look just like your mother on the night of her Seijin-shiki. I pray that it will be just as magnificent an event as hers."
The princess blushed under such praise, but a low snort interrupted the happy moment. Katsuo, her younger half-brother, was leaning up against one of the pillars. His azure eyes, with the same black sclera he shared with her and their mother but goat's eye pupil of his father, scrutinized her up and down. "As if. Who cares about the Yurei-hime? They'll forget about her just as quickly once it's all over."
"Hold your tongue, boy," Haoran snapped, causing Katsuo to shrink away. "Your sister has waited five decades to have this day."
Katsuo did not reply, his gaze now firmly fixed on the floor. Haoran turned to his son and sighed, "Will you ever teach him proper decorum?"
King Masao held his stare. Despite being a couple hundred years younger than Hajime, the permanent scowl and salt-and-pepper beard he maintained aged him even further. The princess couldn’t recall a time he ever looked at her or even spoke to her directly, but tonight, he finally glanced at her, a quick assessment of her reaction to her brother’s words. She remained expressionless, refused to give them the satisfaction of knowing he got under her skin. Finally, Masao replied, "I see no issue with his composure."
Haoran pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course, you do not. Why do I ever expect differently?"
"She’s a dishonor to the family," Katsuo hissed under his breath, "A black sheep of a firstborn--"
"You will not speak to your sister that way," Haoran declared, his voice rising. "Your petty rivalry tells me you are still but a child throwing a tantrum. I have been lenient with your insolent behavior for far too long."
"Baba," she said softly, placing a calming hand on her grandfather’s arm. "It is alright."
He looked down to the young princess, exhaling slowly through his nose. "Thank you, Bellflower."
Although they had no blood relation, grandfather Haoran always held a soft spot for the young princess. From a young age, Hajime was promised to his firstborn, the late Prince Akito, until his passing led to her marriage to Masao. To Haoran, she was just as much his daughter as his blood children. Any child of hers was his grandchild, and he loathed the treatment her firstborn was subjected to because of her circumstances.
"Let's prepare for the ceremony, shall we?" Hajime offered up, with a nervous smile on her mauve lips. "Masao and I will proceed first down the dais, followed by Katsuo, then Baba, and little ruby, you will be last. It will be just like we practiced."
"Yes, Mama," the princess replied.
Hajime's smile became bright and she peppered her forehead with kisses. "I'm so proud of you!"
Masao rolled his eyes and turned to the doors, "Let's get this over with."
He looked to the attendants waiting by the doors and nodded sharply. The family filed into line, Hajime looping her arm with her husband’s, as one attendant weaved a spell in the air. Music filled the air, announcing the presence of the royal family.
The doors opened without a hand placed on them, and the crowds outside erupted into cheers. Finally, the princess could see just how many people arrived for her Seijin-shiki, and her heart leapt into her throat. The courtyard was full of the fae folk, fairies, elves, satyrs, hobgoblins, and more she could not make out. Sprites and faerie dragons danced in the air, and the entire promenade was alight with lanterns and fireflies. Masao and Hajime walked gracefully down the crimson walkway, the queen waving and blowing kisses to their subjects.
Katsuo leveled one last sneer at the princess before also walking out. She tried not to snicker when she heard the noticeable lull in cheers compared to when Masao and her mother walked down the dais.
Haoran squeezed her shoulder in reassurance and stepped out. She covered her ears at the volume at which the crowd shrieked their praise. She knew her grandfather was beloved by the people, but the devotion they showed was unparalleled to her estimates. She could see the sour expression on Masao’s face even from this distance, jealous that his father still held so much favor amongst the citizens.
The music came to a slow stop once Haoran took his place on the dais. Finally, it was time for her to emerge.
The crowd fell silent, waiting with palpable tension to catch a glimpse of the mysterious princess who’d been kept hidden for so long. Even the sprites in the air halted in their flight, staring at the shadows of the grand doors. She took a deep breath, placed her hands over the front of her hanfu with her chin held high, and walked slowly into the light. The people gasped, a single sharp inhale from the hundreds that had gathered. The silence hung like a bowstring waiting to snap as she fluttered down the dais. Now that she was out in the open, her stomach calmed. She smiled, bright and confident, while still remaining a little demure lest the people think she’s arrogant. Their eyes were training on her every move, and whispers began to fly.
“Oh my! How stunning her wings are!”
“Why, she looks just like her mother.”
“She doesn’t seem very frail, does she?”
“Not at all. She’s as hale and hearty as her brother.”
“Speaking of, look at him! Now that’s a sour face. You don’t suppose there’s a sibling rivalry?”
“Oh, of course there is! When is there not?”
The princess stopped in front of Haoran, who held a hairpin in his hands. It was a branch fashioned out of sparkling silver, with ruby and rose quartz petals as its blossoms. Kneeling on the pink petals spread across the cold stone, she bowed her head low, loose locks of hair obscuring her vision. In the silence the silk of her hanfu rustled like grass in the wind.
Masao stepped toward her, speaking, “By my authority, let the boughs of the Haru-akai Tree rise to meet you. Where you walk, may the earth cushion your steps and rivers slow their current. Where you fly, may the breeze carry you swiftly, and the skies be fair. On this day, the great Gealach of Tír na nÓg smiles upon you.”
Haoran stepped behind her and took her flowing hair in hand. He wove it up into a high bun that sat at the back of her head, and as he fastened it with the hairpin, he spoke, “For you are Suzume, princess of the Miure Court, firstborn of the Aoki family, and heir to the Sakura Throne.”
Suzume . She felt the weight of it on her tongue, mouthing the name silently to test it. Simple, sweet. She liked the melody of it, so different from the True Name she kept guarded in her heart and mind. The vowels reminded her of the cooing birds that lived around the court. The soft hiss of the ‘s’ like the rustling of silk in the breeze. It was perfect.
“As the larva becomes the butterfly, I join the eternal dance,” the princess-- No, Suzume replied, “Upon my True Name do I swear to uphold the values of the Seelie Court, and bring prosperity to my people.”
She looked up at Masao. His expression was neutral, but the intensity of his gaze bespoke a simmering hatred beneath the surface. She hoped this ceremony, naming her as his heir, pained him greatly. With a sardonic smile, she bowed her head again and stood. He took a fan from a nearby attendant and extended it out to her. She made sure not to brush his hands when she took it. Music began to rise as he and the rest of the Aokis stepped out of the way, leaving the circular dais open for Suzume.
She held the closed fan to her chest, delicately, head bowed and turned away from the audience. As the music swelled once more, she opened her wings with a flourish that earned a few “ooo”s. The movements were muscle-memory, and her feet shifted of their own accord. It was an elegant dance, with airy steps and spins, some quick as a flash and others a steady, slow turn. She closed her eyes and focused entirely on the music, letting herself forget about the many eyes watching her every move. At this moment, she was practicing the ceremony with her mother and grandfather, just the three of them in her room. The furniture was moved to make space and the windows were open to let in the cherry-scented air.
When she snapped the fan open, the crowd gasped. Their delighted cries rang out through the courtyard as she leapt from the dais, spreading her wings and soaring. She danced through the air, light from the lanterns catching in her wings, scattering into tiny fractals all around. The fan moved so swiftly in her hand, it gave off the appearance of a butterfly flapping its wings. Suddenly, it was one, and it fluttered in circles around Suzume as she twirled. In a final grand embellishment, Suzume raised her arms and the butterfly shot into the sky, bursting into a myriad of colors that had the crowd shrieking in delight.
She floated back to the dais to the sound of boisterous claps and cheers. Her people roared their praise, the noise only growing when she turned back to them and bowed. Elation soared in her chest just like that butterfly, and she beamed at them with her arms extended. Some in the crowd threw petals, rice, motes of sparkling light at the dais. Tears welled up in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she exclaimed, “Thank you!”
---
After the presentation to the people, the celebration moved back inside, with foreign dignitaries and elite nobles congregating in the main ballroom to mingle and congratulate the new princess. Glowing spider lilies hung like chandeliers from the ceiling. Trestles of green ivy crawled up the great pillars in spirals. It was a myriad of colors and sounds that the little princess was not accustomed to, but she loved the spectacle of it. As the fairies danced through the air, Suzume sat in the throne to the left of her mother, greeting any who approached with a kind, jubilant welcome.
"You're doing wonderful," her mother whispered to her in a moment when no one was near the throne. "Just keep your head held high and smile."
Suzume nodded and tilted her chin up a little more. From his place to the right of the king, Katsuo scowled. He leaned against the armrest of his throne and put his head in his hand with a huff.
A new stranger approached and extended his hand out to Suzume. "I would request the princess' company in a dance, if it would please her."
He was a tall eladrin, surprisingly tall even for his race, with pale skin and white hair draping in a long straight veil over one shoulder. Even his eyelashes were snowy white, framing pupiless blue eyes that glowed in the shadows of his slim face. He wore a deep ultramarine hanfu patterned with silver reeds and flying birds on the hem and sleeves. Tilting his head ever so slightly, he smiled, one that was both polite and mischievous in his intentions.
Suzume narrowed her eyes. "Who would be requesting, might I ask?"
"Iarlaith, envoy of the Lord of the Boreal Wildwood."
It wasn't his name. She could tell by the way it slipped off his tongue, fast and warbling like a clumsy babbling brook. Yet by the way his smile never faltered, his eyes never shifted, he wanted her to know he was lying. She leaned forward in her seat, intrigued and decidedly playing along.
"The Boreal Wildwood? You've traveled a great distance to be here."
"It is not every day that a daughter of the minor realms debuts to the Court. And many have been waiting for your arrival, your highness."
"You as well, sir?"
"Indeed. I expected you to be taller."
She laughed. "Really? Terribly sorry to disappoint, but I must wonder if everyone is shorter than expected for someone of your stature."
He chuckled softly under his breath. "You would be correct, little princess."
"Is it common for courtiers to make such bold comments at their first introduction?" She leaned back in her chair and cupped her cheek in her hand.
"It is merely part of my personal charm. I do so love to tease."
"An envoy and a jester! I see your company for the night will be quite entertaining."
He extended his hand again. "Then may I entertain you with a dance?"
Suzume looked over to her mother, who was watching their exchange with a critical eye. Bright gold flicked up and down as she assessed him, finally giving her daughter a curt nod. Suzume smiled graciously and placed her hand in his. It was freezing.
"I accept."
Iarlaith led her to the main floor, other guests parting for their walk. People gawked, whispered behind their hands, craned to get a better look. All the while, Iarlaith kept that same confident smile on his face, and Suzume bowed her head to the guests. They stopped when they were in the very center, her turning to him.
"Do you know the Voltura?" he asked her.
She tried not to show her displeasure. The Voltura required stamina, and had many small leaps interspersed through the dance. When they were little, Katsuo dared Suzume to try and leave her rooms for a day, and when she tried to walk down the staircase, he pushed her. Her leg never healed right after that tumble, and she couldn't put too much strain on it to this day.
Calmly, she replied, "I've rehearsed it before, but I have yet to dance it with a partner."
He nodded to the band of satyrs and nymphs in the corner, and the music began.