“I knew it would be you.” She peers behind me. “Isn’t the tattooed one with you?”
“Madrid is preparing the ship,” I tell her. “We set sail today.”
“Shame.” Sakura slings a dishrag over her shoulder. “You’re not nearly as pretty.”
I don’t argue. “Can I come in?”
“A prince can ask for favors on a doorstep, like everyone else.”
“Your doorstep doesn’t have whiskey.”
Sakura smiles, her dark red lips curling to one side. She spreads her arms out, gesturing for me to come inside. “I hope you have full pockets.”
I enter, keeping my eyes trained on her. It’s not like I think she might try something untoward – kill me, perhaps, right here in the Golden Goose – not when our relationship is so profitable to her. But there is something about Sakura that has always unnerved me, and I’m not the only one. There aren’t many who can manage a bar like the Golden Goose, with patrons who collect sin like precious jewels. Brawls and fights are constant, and most nights spill more blood than whiskey. Yet when Sakura tells them enough, the men and women cease. Adjust their respective collars, spit onto the grimy floor, and continue on with their drinks as though nothing happened at all. Arguably, she is the most fearsome woman in Midas. And I don’t make a habit of turning my back on fearsome women.
Sakura steps behind the bar and pours a slosh of amber liquid into a glass. As I sit opposite, she brings the glass to her lips and takes a quick sip. A print of murky red lipstick stains the rim, and I note the fortuitous timing.
Sakura slides the glass over to me. “Satisfied?” she asks.
She means because it isn’t poisoned. I may scan the seas looking for monsters that could literally rip my heart out, but that doesn’t mean I’m careless. There isn’t a single thing I eat or drink when we’re docked that hasn’t been tasted by someone else first. Usually, this duty falls to Torik, who volunteered the moment I took him aboard and insists that he’s not putting his life at risk because even the greatest of poisons couldn’t kill him. Taking into account his sheer size alone, I’m inclined to agree.
Kye, of course, declined the responsibility. If I die saving your life, he said, then who’s going to protect you?
I eye Sakura’s smudged lipstick and smirk, twisting the glass to avoid the mark before I take a sip of whiskey.
“No need for pretense,” says Sakura. “You should just ask.”
“You know why I’m here, then.”
“The whole of Midas is talking about your siren.” Sakura leans back against the liquor cabinet. “Don’t think there is a single thing that goes on here that I’m not aware of.”
Her eyes are sharper than ever and narrowed in a way that tells me there are very few of my secrets she doesn’t know. A prince may have the luxury of discretion, but a pirate does not. I know that many of my conversations have been stolen by strangers and sold to the highest bidders. Sakura has been one of those sellers for a while, trading information for gold whenever the opportunity presents itself. So of course she was careful to overhear the man who came to me in the dead of night, speaking stories of her home and the treasure it holds.
“I want you to come with me.”
Sakura laughs and the sound doesn’t suit the grave look on her face. “Is that an order from the prince?”
“It’s a request.”
“Then I deny it.”
“You know” – I wipe the stain from my glass – “your lipstick is smudged.”
Sakura takes in the print of dark red on the rim of my glass and presses a finger to her lips. When it comes away clean, she glowers. I can see her plainly now, as the thing I have always known she is. The snow-faced woman with lips bluer than any siren’s eye.
A blue reserved for royalty.
The natives of Págos are like no other race in the hundred kingdoms, but the royal family is a breed unto themselves. Carved from great blocks of ice, their skin is that much paler, their hair that much whiter, and their lips are the same blue as their seal.
“Have you known for a while?” Sakura asks.
“It’s the reason I’ve let you get away with so much,” I tell her. “I didn’t want to reveal your secret until I found a way to put it to good use.” I raise my glass in a toast. “Long live Princess Yukiko of Págos.”
Sakura’s face doesn’t change at the mention of her real name. Instead she looks at me blankly, as though it’s been so long that she doesn’t even recognize her own name.
“Who else knows?” she asks.
“I haven’t told anybody yet.” I emphasize the yet more crudely than necessary. “Though I don’t understand why you’d even care. Your brother took the crown over a decade ago. It’s not like you have a claim to the throne. You can go where you like and do as you please. Nobody wants to assassinate a royal who can’t rule.”
Sakura looks at me candidly. “I’m aware of that.”
“Then why the secrecy?” I ask. “I haven’t heard anything about a missing princess, so I can only assume that your family knows where you are.”
“I’m no runaway,” says Sakura.
“Then what are you?”
“Something you will never be,” she sneers. “Free.”
I set my glass down harder than I intend. “How lucky for you, then.”
It’s easy for Sakura to be free. She has four older brothers with claims to the throne before her and so none of the responsibilities my father likes to remind me are still heavy on my shoulders.
“I left once Kazue took the crown,” Sakura says. “With three brothers to counsel him, I knew I’d have no wisdom to offer that they couldn’t. I was twenty-five and had no taste for the life of a royal who would never rule. I told my brothers this. I told them I wanted to see more than snow and ice. I wanted color.” She looks at me. “I wanted to see gold.”
I snort. “And now?”
“Now I hate the vile shade.”
I laugh. “Sometimes I feel the same. But it’s still the most beautiful city in all of the hundred kingdoms.”
“You’d know better than me,” Sakura says.
“Yet you stay.”
“Homes are hard to find.”
I think about the truth of that. I understand it better than anyone, because nowhere I’ve traveled ever really feels like home. Even Midas, which is so beautiful and filled with so many people I love. I feel safe here, but not like I belong. The only place I could ever call home and mean it is the Saad. And that’s constantly moving and changing. Rarely in the same place twice. Maybe I love it because it belongs nowhere, not even in Midas, where it was built. And yet it also belongs everywhere.
I swirl the final remnants of my whiskey and look to Sakura. “So then it would be a shame if people discovered who you were. Being a Págese immigrant is one thing, but being a royal without a country is another. How would they treat you?”
“Little prince.” Sakura licks her lips. “Are you trying to blackmail your favor?”