by Pelaam
Convinced he felt something move at his throat, Bertie clutched at his medallion, thinking the clasp had come loose, but it wasn’t the talisman from his father as he expected. An icy frisson snaked down Bertie’s spine. The medallion he’d closed his fingers around was that of the jade dragon.
As if the movement had irritated her, the woman glanced in Bertie’s direction and he almost flinched at the malevolence aimed at him.
Although Makoto had said Bertie had to wait and approach the prince with Felton, it seemed Takeshi didn’t care for such a formality, leading Felton and the woman right past Bertie and up toward the throne.
“Ichirou-denka, permit me to introduce to you my good friend, Mr. Felton Coleman from the prestigious British company Lalleyman and Willis.”
Takeshi was almost gushing, and Bertie’s hackles rose at the smirk Felton gave him before bowing low before the prince.
“Takeshi-san is too kind. I’m honored to meet you Ichirou-denka. Please permit me to introduce to you Madam Kana, she is my head of design, a talented seamstress, and very well versed in haute couture.”
A sense of inadequacy washed over Bertie. Although he oversaw the department, and, in his family’s eyes, was a talented designer, he could hardly make the same claims of himself. Tom didn’t work in Blackwood and Son, and he still had to explain Hayate. With a sinking heart, Bertie composed himself, and prayed for a miracle.
The prince acknowledged both Felton and Kana with a cool, yet polite, detachment that hardly boded well for Bertie. If the prince appears so unimpressed when one of his own advisors gives a personal introduction, what hope for me?
Felton’s fleeting glance of irritation at the prince didn’t go unnoticed by Bertie, and his hope rose a little. If the meeting hadn’t gone as Felton had expected, perhaps all wasn’t yet lost.
Takeshi’s cold gaze fixed on Bertie, looking him up and down. The courtier’s expression was one of utter disdain, however, it vanished as he turned to the prince.
“Now I present to you Mr. Bertram Blackwood, son of Charles Blackwood. Mr. Charles Blackwood was meant to be your guest. I’m informed that he had an accident which prevents him attending, and Mr. Bertram is his stand-in.”
Biting his lip so hard that Bertie tasted blood, he stepped forward. Nothing Takeshi had said was incorrect, nor had he been impolite, but the undertone of disapproval was unmistakable. With a soft word to Tom and Hayate to encourage them to move forward with him, Bertie walked, head high to stand beside Felton.
“On behalf of my father, I offer my sincere apologies that with his injuries from the accident he was unable to attend, Ichirou-denka. I was to have accompanied him, instead I come before you as his personal representative, the head of our clothing departments, and as a designer in my own right.”
“Indeed. Please come closer, Blackwood-san.” The prince beckoned, and Bertie’s heart skipped a beat.
Beneath white face-paint and other cosmetics, the true face of the man before him was unrecognizable, but his voice was not. Bertie did as the prince asked, keeping his head bowed as he approached the bottom steps, then he looked up from where he knelt. The deep brown eyes he looked up into were warm, and Bertie was certain he saw a hint of a smile on the ruby-red painted lips.
“Your father, is he recovering from the accident?”
“Yes, thank you for asking, Ichirou-denka. He was very disappointed not to be here in person.”
“I’m sure he’s chosen wisely for his replacement. And who have you brought with you?” Ichirou waved a hand to Bertie’s friends.
“Um… Tom Brightman is my personal manservant. He doesn’t work in the department store, but as I’m in charge of the relevant department, I didn’t need another representative. Hayate is, um … an inventor. He built the balloon that Tom and I used to travel here. We were attacked by robbers. We were fortunate to get here at all and couldn’t have done it without him.”
“I’m very pleased that you did.” The prince nodded, and Bertie took advantage of the turn of conversation.
“If I may, your highness, Hayate’s balloon was damaged on the trip here. Are there workshops in the palace where he could work on it again?”
“Captain Makoto,” Ichirou called out. “Ensure Hayate has a workroom and any tools or assistance he needs to repair his balloon. I should like to see it, Blackwood-san, if your inventor will permit me?”
A quick glance at Hayate told Bertie there was no possibility of the wide-eyed young man replying for himself. Bertie nodded.
“I’m sure he, as I, would be most honored, your highness.”
“Excellent.” Ichirou clapped his hands. “Captain Makoto, you will organize this, too.”
At Ichirou’s side Makoto bowed at each order. “Yes, Ichirou-denka.”
“You said you were attacked by robbers when you arrived here, Blackwood-san. Did they take much of value?”
“They took our cases. Therefore, we have no clothing or bathroom necessities.” Bertie shook his head. “However, the designs that I created, to show you what could be done with your beautiful silk, are quite safe.”
A noise behind Bertie, like a snarl or growl, almost made him turn away from the prince, but remembering his manners he didn’t look around. At a soft sound at his throat, Bertie clutched at his medallion, certain it was slipping. Instead it felt warm, and the dragon carving seemed bigger than he remembered.
If the prince noticed anything, he didn’t comment or react, and Bertie wondered if his nerves were playing tricks on him.
“As eager as I am to see what you have brought me, today is not for discussions about business. Today is to welcome you … both, as my guests.” The prince looked away from Bertie, then back at him once more. “Thank you, Blackwood-san.”
With a bow, Bertie backed away to resume his place beside Tom and Hayate. He stood alongside Felton and Madam Kana, and waited for the prince to speak again.
“I want you to relax and enjoy this evening and my hospitality. Tomorrow, I shall look at your designs. Then, over the next few days, as I get to know you better, I will make my decision.”
“We are honored.” Felton bowed low.
“As are we.” Bertie followed Felton’s lead, grimacing to think he’d been slower, but at least Tom and Hayate copied him.
To Bertie’s surprise, Madam Kana remained upright, her face an unreadable mask. Bertie couldn’t understand why her presence made him feel so cold. It must be that she’s so aloof, so … so unapproachable. It’s almost like she has an invisible barrier to keep people at arm’s length.
Not that it mattered to Bertie. Madam Kana was a competitor, no more. He was growing increasingly confident in his own abilities to begin to believe any designs Madam Kana might have, he would either equal or exceed.
Takeshi held up his hand and a gong sounded.
“The prince will lead the way to the banquet.” Takeshi made certain to usher Felton and Madam Kana close behind the prince, and then himself, effectively cutting Bertie and the others off.
“If you and your men would care to follow me, Blackwood-san?” Makoto came to Bertie’s side and spoke softly.
“Yes, indeed. Thank you.” Bertie glowered at Takeshi. It seemed the man was going to pull as many dirty tricks as he could and use his position to push Felton forward. Bertie was determined not to let such behavior undermine his chances.
Chapter Eleven
The banqueting hall was every bit as exquisite as the reception room. One side of the room looked out over a garden, despite being several stories up. The wall opposite had been decorated to mimic the garden with trees, shrubs, flowers, and exotic birds. A long, low table in the center ran the length of the room.
It came as no surprise to Bertie that Takeshi again ensured Felton and Kana were closest to the prince, a host of palace courtiers were next, leaving Bertie and his friends to sit close to the end of the low table.
Bertie thought he saw a flash of anger on the prince’s face, but nothing was said, and Bertie co
uld do nothing but accept the situation. After all, Felton has the support of a senior palace courtier, a man who holds power and respect.
No one even knew Bertie and the prince had already met, and, given the circumstances, it wasn’t as if he could admit it. My designs will speak for me, and for Blackwood and Son. I’m just so grateful they’re intact.
The banquet was lavish and consisted of many delicacies unknown to Bertie. Glancing at Tom, a pang of jealousy stabbed through Bertie. Hayate pointed to each dish, obviously explaining what the delicacy was and used the chopsticks provided to select choice morsels and set them on Tom’s plate.
By contrast, Bertie’s skills with chopsticks were far from dexterous. For each one successful attempt to get food to his plate, Bertie experienced several failures.
“Blackwood-san, I would deem it an honor if you would sit beside me.” Makoto indicated an empty seat further up the table that Bertie hadn’t noticed previously. “One of the guests is unwell and unable to be present. I’m sure you’d be much more comfortable at that end of the table.”
The seat was much closer to the prince, and Bertie nodded eagerly. “The honor would be mine, Captain.”
Before moving, Bertie looked quickly at Tom, but his friend only had eyes for Hayate. Bertie smiled. It seemed his absence wouldn’t bother Tom. Taking his place beside the captain, Bertie ignored the scowl that flitted across Takeshi’s face. It wasn’t his fault someone had been unable to take their seat.
Once settled, Bertie risked a glance at the prince. With all the cosmetics he wore, it was hard to determine an expression, but he nodded at Bertie whose heart skipped a beat.
The banquet proceeded without further issue. Most of the talking was done by Felton, captain Makoto, or Takeshi. Madam Kana spoke very little, as did the prince. Bertie made sure to make a mental note of everything that was said. Madam Kana attempted, more than once, to attract the prince’s attention, but he seemed oblivious to her.
But once or twice, Bertie’s gaze lighted on Ichirou to find that their gazes met for a second or two before the prince looked away. Even aware that Ichirou might just be fascinated at having so many Europeans at his table, Bertie still felt a thrill each time he looked into Ichirou’s eyes.
At the end of the banquet, the guests were ushered into a reception room that opened out onto the palace gardens. Bertie made sure to circulate among all the guests. As his father often told him, you never know who may become a valued ally.
To Bertie’s surprise, Makoto seemed to be taking a personal interest in Tom and Hayate. When Bertie caught Tom’s gaze, Tom gave him a smile and a thumb’s up. Bertie grinned, returning the gesture. He was pleased that Makoto seemed genuinely interested in his friends.
A glass of sake in his hand, Bertie ambled over to the open doors where the room opened out onto the garden. The plants were so different from those at home, that he couldn’t resist stepping out to take a closer look.
There was no point in Bertie trying to speak to the prince. Takeshi kept beside him, with Felton and Madam Kana in close attendance. Bertie glanced into the room. In his opinion, Madam Kana almost seemed to be stalking Ichirou. Keeping no more than a couple of feet behind him, Madam Kana matched him step for step as the prince mingled with his guests.
Anger welled up and Bertie turned quickly away, not wanting to say anything out of turn. After all, if the prince didn’t want her so close to him, he only had to say. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, Bertie moved closer to the open windows, and peered out into the exquisite gardens beyond.
Not wanting to face the reason why seeing Madam Kana so fascinated with the prince irritated him so much, Bertie stepped outside. The cool breeze felt good on his skin, and the heady fragrance of the flowers it carried slowly calmed Bertie’s nerves. Almost without thinking, Bertie left the palace behind him and strolled out farther into the garden
A soft exclamation of delight escaped Bertie as he spotted a small waterfall through the shrubs and he hurried over to take a closer look. The waterfall fed down to a large pool, hidden by shrubs and trees.
A moment later, Bertie worked his way down to be able to amble alongside the pool. A flash of gold caught Bertie’s attention, and he laughed as a large golden fish looked up at him.
“If you’re looking for food, then I’m sorry, my friend. But you do have a beautiful home. I wouldn’t mind looking out at this view every day.”
“He likes cake. My fault. I indulge him too much. And it pleases me to know you like my gardens.”
At Ichirou’s voice, Bertie turned so sharply, he almost overbalanced. Only the quick reflexes of the prince saved him from falling in the pool. Bertie clutched hard at Ichirou’s arms. The prince’s muscles were toned and strong beneath the silk of his kimono, and their bodies were now so close that Bertie could smell the light citrus fragrance of the man who held him.
“You must think I’m such a clumsy fool.” Bertie didn’t want to release his hold, but once he was sure of his footing, Bertie reluctantly stepped away from Ichirou.
“I think several things of you, Bertie, but they do not include clumsy or fool.”
There was a sultry look in Ichirou’s eyes and an answering burn ignited in Bertie’s veins. Movement at his throat caused Bertie to grab at his pendant. It was safe, but warm. However, the reaction had brought it to Ichirou’s attention, and he gave a delighted exclamation.
“Oh, how beautiful. A jade dragon. And its eyes are as blue as your own, Bertie. Such dragons are meant to be very lucky.”
“It was my grandmother’s. I’m glad you like it.” Bertie felt ridiculously pleased.
“Now we must return to the palace. It is not seemly for us to be together without a chaperone, even out here.”
“Yes, Ichirou-denka.” Bertie smiled, bowed, then made sure there was correct distance between him and the prince, who settled his hands in the voluminous sleeves of his kimono.
Not a moment too soon as Makoto, Takeshi, and Felton came into view. Takeshi’s face bore an expression of thunderous anger and he glared at Ichirou.
“Your absence was noticed, Ichirou-denka.” Takeshi’s voice was tight and hard. “What were you thinking, coming outside with this … this foreigner?”
“You forget yourself, Takeshi.” Ichirou’s voice was ice, and Bertie almost shivered. “Blackwood-san is an honored guest. When I saw him go outside, I was concerned he might have been unwell. He has experienced a lot in a short time, and not all of it welcoming.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve caused any problems.” Bertie took a couple of steps forward, wanting to divert attention from Ichirou. “I got a little over-heated. It’s very warm, and the garden was so inviting. Then I found the pool was beautiful and lost all track of time, and where I was. I was trying to find my way back when the prince arrived.”
“Indeed.” Takeshi’s expression displayed nothing short of utter distaste, but Bertie didn’t care if he came across as a blustering, bumbling fool. Better that than Ichirou got into any kind of trouble because of him.
“Permit me to escort you back to the palace, Blackwood-san.” Makoto bowed stiffly. “If you and Takeshi would lead the way, Ichirou-denka.”
The prince inclined his head gracefully, and headed back toward the palace, with Takeshi and Felton just a step behind him. Bertie was forced to walk much slower to keep with Makoto’s measured tread.
“A word of warning, Blackwood-san.” Makoto inclined his head a fraction closer to Bertie. “The prince acted out of character in leaving the palace during a party and, worse yet, without taking me as his protector and bodyguard. It’s obvious it was not a planned assignation. But beware of Takeshi. He’s a powerful man who likes to have his own way.”
“My apologies, Captain Makoto.” Bertie sighed. “I was hot, I thought a walk would do me some good. I never expected Ichi-ch—” Bertie coughed as he almost used the prince’s intimate name. “Ichirou-denka to follow me.”
If Makoto noticed the
near slip, he didn’t indicate it in any way. “The prince liked your father. It seems to me he already likes his son just as much. On the other hand, Takeshi likes to get his way and didn’t get on with Blackwood-san senior. His preference is Felton. Takeshi will do all in his power to ensure the prince selects his man, rather than you. You need to stay out of trouble, Blackwood-san. Perhaps I can assign someone to help watch over you.”
“Whatever you think best, Captain Makoto. I don’t want to cause any problems for the prince.” Bertie’s shoulders slumped. He really liked Ichirou, and had hoped they could spend more time together, even if he was unsuccessful in his bid to sign the contract.
But, of course, the captain was right. A common man like himself could hardly expect to be permitted to be in the intimate company of a prince.
“Don’t look so sad, Blackwood-san. The prince is a determined man in his own right.”
“Yes, Captain. I’m sure he is.” Bertie didn’t say anything more. Better to let Makoto think his concern was only for the contract.
Chapter Twelve
The day dawned a beautiful rose-pink and Bertie was so excited, he rose with the sun. Sitting at his window, Bertie looked out over the garden. Now all the welcomes were officially completed, Bertie and Felton would be vying to get their contract signed by Ichirou.
At a tap on his door, Bertie ambled over, expecting to see Tom. However, it was Cherry Blossom who greeted him with a smile and a short bow. Nor was she alone. Behind her stood a soldier with the same broad build of captain Makoto, but who looked at least ten years younger.
“Good morning, Blackwood-san. This is Keitaro. Captain Makoto thought he should accompany you.” She leaned in close. “Keitaro is a personal favorite of Ichi-chan, just like Makoto.”
“Thank you, Cherry Blossom. I trust the prince slept well?” The revelation, even in such hushed tones, instantly lifted Bertie’s spirits.
“Yes, thank you, Blackwood-san. He likes to walk in the garden around this time. It’s good for clearing the mind. Perhaps you may like Keitaro to escort you in such a walk yourself?”
