Fourty Three| Hazel Hazes.

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Princess Sakura was not a man.

That fact may be obvious to anyone with any of the five common senses. But because she wasn't a man, many people often thought she lacked a brain, or common thinking skills or even the ability to see something for what it was. She was the only heir to her family's throne, her mother had only been blessed with one child, who was a girl, and while her father rejoiced, it was no secret that the Kingdom of Rimi had always wanted a male heir instead. Someone who would carry on the family lineage and not marry out.


She was well aware of her position ever since she turned old enough to speak words.


Ever since she was old enough to understand what the adults around her were saying. Ever since she was old enough to see how Prince Izana was treated in comparison to her. How he was revered with honor and dignity despite being the same six year old she was at the same family banquet.


How he was seen as the next great ruler, a conqueror, the future of the modern world. How because he was a born an able bodied man he was given the credentials to usher his Kingdom into a new age of greatness.


And she was not.


She was going to marry him, and leave her kingdom to him. So he can lead it into greatness, so she can sit back and have his babies, have his heirs, his future son who will be seen as the next great ruler and his future daughter who will carry on her role as a pretty face and nothing more.


Princess Sakura had dreams of becoming more. Of taking over her Kingdom herself and ruling just as good if not better than Prince Izana.


However, overtime she grew up.


And inevitably she became all that she hated when she was a child. She was a face, and often allowed her brains to take a back seat to the roles society forced her to take.


She was Princess Sakura, the future Queen of Rimi and Clarines, wife to Prince Izana.


She would live with that title, and when she dies she will join all the women who have come before her. It was simple, it was classic, it was good—decent.


And she was okay with that.


But that's not what was going to happen. Not anymore, not after she met her.


Sakura watched as she moved across the room, a packet of papers in her hands. She didn't move like a noble lady, it was abundantly clear that unlike Prince Zen's royal guard Kiki, she didn't come from a noble family. Still, her head was held high, and she met the eyes of everyone who spoke to her, with a cool calm. Her body moved with a certain methodology, a way that warned everyone that she was as lethal as her title claimed she was. The sword hanging from her waist didn't seem to carry the same emphasis as the rest of her body. It looked more like a prop, a chore to carry around. Even before Sakura had seen her fight in her Family's castle, she knew it— call it a woman's intuition or a small inkling, when she was younger she called it her "Princess Senses."— This girl was deadly. 


She was in some ways... what Sakura wanted to be when she was younger.

Lady Zinnia... she commanded a room. Maybe it was her appearance, how her complexion was uncommon in their side of the world. But even so she was beautiful, with striking brown eyes, long eyelashes and chestnut colored skin. Her hair was wild but otherwise tied back into different hairstyles every few days. She was different and she was new and she was dangerous.

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