From the way she always shrank away from others, like a trammeled quarry facing death, it was easy to forget that Sayuri was not actually a particularly short woman. Tomiris found herself finding that rather remarkable, comparing the Princess with the two young girls from Bosheikh, many years their juniors, scrawny little things. But though they spoke softly, Sayuri recoiled as though the blame for an atrocity was laid at her doorstep. Small wonder she locked herself in her quarters after each time she was forced to interact with Ise Ubami. Her absence, however, did not result in an increase in confidence.
“I understand your doubts,” Princess Sayuri said to Istar and Asli, who didn’t seem to believe her. “And I am fortunate in a way that few are, because Tawarasato is home to the House of Ubami, so we will never lack for Blossoms.”
“They’ve all died, though,” Asli stated the obvious. “Who knows if they’ll be able to rebuild in the future, but certainly not in the coming years…”
“I must have faith,” said Sayuri. It would have sounded more convincing if her left hand wasn’t shaking with nerves. “We all must, though I realize that to ask for you to have faith is an easy thing to say. For all that us Blossoms pledge ourselves to the world, the whole world, who can look away when their home is in peril? I have abdicated my claim, but I still have family I care for. Even the family I’m less fond of, I don’t want them to be hurt, either. News from our distant homes are slow to arrive, and often they are already stale when we are informed, and what we can’t see with our own eyes we cannot ever fully trust. It’s scary. And though I understand the nature of your fear, I cannot imagine how it feels to you, the fears in your hearts, the dreadful things that trouble you while you’re abed in the dark of night and keep you awake. Tomiris, too, comes from a distant country, and she too has loved ones.”
Tomiris felt she deserved some praise for not laughing. To the world I have brothers, she recalled the lie, and to the world I am the pride of my hometown, which they’re all too happy to imagine as some backwater village of tents and horseriders. Asli came from a large city, if Tomiris’s memory didn’t fail her, but Istar hailed from some village. Perhaps this made for a decent approach.
“Our homes, so far away, are yet vivid in our minds,” said Tomiris. “We remember what they sound like, we remember the smells and tastes we forever bind our memories to,” that much wasn’t a lie. Tomiris didn’t say that she liked those memories, after all. “That which to us is an image so clear and pure feels like something we cannot convey to others. They have preconceived notions of places they’ve never been to, places on the other side of the world. It feels hopeless and lonely, that such memories are ours and ours alone. So desperately do we want to make them understand what we feel and what we know, so that they may know its weight.”
“It’s true,” said Istar. “I… I hear promises from Blossoms who I can’t believe are actually committed to some place so far away. They mean nothing to them, and I wish only to make them see, to make them understand, so that they take my fears seriously. Bosheikh is not an afterthought to me.”
“They will understand,” said Sayuri. “The older among us Blossoms do not mean to denigrate. They – us, too,” she said, looking at Tomiris. “We can become blind in our struggle to keep the Red Rose alive. Valchenza, Varvozi, Santia, everyone, they may appear dismissive but the truth is they’re scared. They feel they must act with confidence they don’t have, certainty that does not exist, because that’s what the Ruby Blossom has always seemed to them. It seemed that way to me, too, as a child. The roots of the Tower of Rebirth are stone, sturdy and strong, unbreakable, unwavering… But the truth of the Rose is that it’s us. It’s always been girls like us. And I feel afraid having to be here, having to be strong when I do not feel so strong… In trying to show strength, our bloom-sisters may be led by the fear of not being enough.”
Tomiris wondered just what Henriette might think about such a frank admission. Sayuri was honest, often to a fault, in the worst ways possible, but perhaps this was necessary now. It certainly helped her find connection with girls several years younger.
“We don’t want to blame them, not really,” Istar admitted. “Of course we want to believe that our bloom-sisters look out for us, and loathe doubting their intentions. But what should we do, then, you think?”
“Build strength together,” Tomiris offered, seeing that Sayuri was about to stutter some incoherent response. “Stand before the more established Blossoms as equals, because we are. To have them fear your dissent is a disservice to all of us. We want you to make decisions alongside us, in truth. My peers who took leadership fray at the demands placed upon them. They feel alone, isolated, and powerless. As powerless as you feel. We can only be powerful together. They will understand that.”
“I hope Marsey feels the same,” Asli confessed. “She is willful. Bold. Impulsive. She saw some of the other girls occupying the Tower’s vaults in protest and wished to join in. She’s neither stupid or a bad person, she just… Easily comes to believe that she should take drastic action or things will stagnate. But you don’t intend to punish them, right?”
“No,” Sayuri said, as though punishment was hers to decide. “Not ever.”
This, of course, was the easy part. Tomiris was content to let Sayuri enjoy a victory, but in truth these girls wanted to be convinced. Like most young Blossoms, they were desperate to believe in their Rose, in the goodness of their bloom-sisters. She did not expect the same of the actively revolting Blossoms.
Barricaded within the treasury, Marsey and her peers did not respond when Sayuri knocked. Outside, Gatharin laughed bitterly, while Lunéciel and Narges simply shook their heads in quiet disappointment.
“Such an onerous task we’ve been given,” Lune lamented. “We have tried threats, bargains, and promises, but they would not listen to us.”
No need to ask which of the three was responsible for which attempt. Gatharin’s annoyance was proof of how unused she was to dealing with matters of diplomacy, but Lune’s frustration was a poor sign.
“I say we should lock them from this side and starve them out until they put an end to their defiance,” said Gatharin, ever charming.
“That will certainly convince our guests that our house is in order,” Lunéciel remarked. Tomiris had thought almost exactly the same, but in her position she felt it wiser to hold her tongue. “Alas, I have not had much success either. I tried to tell them that I understand their concerns, and mentioned their families, their homelands, to show them that we did not see their loved ones as nameless, faceless wisps half a world away.”
“And…?” Sayuri asked.
“They felt I was threatening them,” Lune admitted. “My folly, really. Heading the Office of Intelligence makes everyone see me as some sort of master of spies, and everything a master of spies says sounds like a veiled promise of harm.”
“What of you, Narges?” Tomiris asked her. She hadn’t expected Iridie to actually make an effort in this matter.
“I need access to the treasury,” she said. “There are materials I want to study. There are crates of dictyomycete tissue from the structure of the false Irontree of Valkeavise. I’m most curious to learn the composition of a material as hardy as metal yet as pliable as fungi, and with a similar spread. Did you know dictyomycetes grow in patternations that resemble runic arrays, but inverted?”
How the fuck could anyone here possibly know that?
“That’s very interesting,” she lied. “Sayuri, perhaps you’ll have better luck,” Tomiris suggested. At the very least, she couldn’t possibly do any worse than these self-important ladies.
But then again, she could, Tomiris thought when Sayuri began to stammer and mumble and utterly fail to be heard. Tomiris banged on the door, to no response. They had Gatharin to thank for poisoning this well. Sayuri struggled, unsure of what to do, and though Tomiris meant to tell her to try something, at least, if these other leaders of the Rose were to hear the Princess being instructed by her own assistant on the most basic of matters, they would never be able to take her seriously again. It was to her luck, then, that after she took an excessively lengthy breath, Princess Sayuri knocked on the door, rapping the ring on her index against the wood.
“This is Sayuri Hiramatsu, a Blossom of Tawarasato, the only among those who see fit to call themselves paramount among the remaining Blossoms to hail from a land so distant. As distant as yours, and as imperilled.”
There was a silence, but only briefly. A girl’s voice sounded from behind the door, younger than Tomiris had expected.
“Tawarasato has Ubami-”
“All dead save for their youngest daughter,” she said. “Their knowledge and arts dead with them. After a culling so thorough, there is no recovering all that was lost. No, Tawarasato cannot count on the expertise of the House of Ubami. We are as you and yours,” she said, and, following the noise of something being dragged away, the door opened. In addition to Marsey, there were three other girls, older, yet children nonetheless. Two had traits of central Shinbasse, perhaps the isles of Aztormol, the other a tan skin that revealed nothing of her stock. She did not appear too unlike Tomiris, though her hair was shorter, darker.
“If we’ll have your word,” said Marsey, “not theirs, then maybe… Maybe we’ll believe it. There’s more of us worried for our homes, it’s just they’ve not been bold so as to go against the Rose. We did not want to, either, but…”
“I understand,” said Sayuri. “I do, truly. When we left our homes, we had our bloom-sisters to guard the lands we dearly treasured,” Tomiris felt quite grateful that she could hold back her laughter with ease. But to the other girls, the words meant something. “Now that distance brings only fear. I could speak of the lakes near Kuzohama and the sweet flute of the yoshikiri, the poetry of their lengthy songs before they take flight… But that would mean nothing to those who have never heard it. Just as the breezes of Ichigaya mean nothing to those who have never felt it, or the color of the sunrise you can only see in the southern vales… How then can we trust that they’ll be protected as passionately as they deserve?”
“That… Yes, that’s our fear,” Marsey looked as though she finally felt heard, finally spoken to. “There are enough of us that we can’t be ignored, but it still feels as if we speak only wind and silence…”
“I will be your voice,” Sayuri declared.
Now where was that meek child disguised as a woman…? Tomiris hoped to flatter herself by believing that Sayuri was learning something from her tutelage, but, this, Tomiris could have never taught her. Her gentle heart that made her so weak at times could be her strength, if only she knew to wield it, if only this was not an impulse soon forgotten. Tomiris allowed herself some pride. Her first allies, whether she understands it or not. And now the smug Blossoms of the Council would have to see her as more than a piece on the board. Though in her cowardice Sayuri had relinquished her crown, she was no less a princess, no matter how she tried to flee from it.
