Today is the day. The day Sakura will apologise for the atrociously embarrassing misunderstanding that happened a week ago. Sakura had chickened out and avoided Eunbi like every responsible adult does when they do something embarrassing. But then Eunbi had been doing things like smiling at her and leaving warm cups of fragrant herbal tea, and she had gathered enough courage at Eunbi's little peace offerings to decide that today was the day.   However, there had been yet another drastic shift in Eunbi’s mood following her return from the excursion she had had with her grandfather the day before. She had been like a zombie - she had neither avoided nor met Sakura's gaze as she walked in, shuffling her feet and looking like all the joy had drained from the world. Sakura is not sure if she’s been in this state all day since Eunbi locked herself in her room, but Sakura has a feeling she has if the way Eunbi stumbled into their limo in the evening is any indicator. A stylist had dropped by to do Eunbi's hair and makeup, and in her report to Sakura before leaving, Eunbi had barely been able to put on her dress alone. Sakura is more than a little concerned - is she sick? Did her grandfather take Eunbi to join a cult that the life force out of people? What exactly happened yesterday?   Unfortunately, now is not the time to dwell on the zombie-like status of her wife. At a Gala like the one they were attending today, Sakura is supposed to network and win politicians and business men to her side. She’s meant to make them support her and give them confidence that she is an appropriate Princess for their beloved Kingdom.   About the third time her attention drifts that night; trying to spot where Eunbi has been dragged to by Sashihara, she is interrupted by a familiar face. A sorely missed face that she had not expected to see for a lot longer.   “Yena!” She exclaims, enthusiastically, pulling the younger into a hug. Yena grins and claps her on the back.   “It’s good to see you, Kkura.” She says. Sakura smiles and pulls away.   “What are you doing here?” Sakura asks.   “Well, I was granted a few weeks leave and was given some very interesting gossip.” Yena explains, plucking a champagne flute off the tray of a passing waitress and sipping it. she glances at Sakura out of the corner of her eye. “Now why didn’t the Tom to my Jerry tell me she was getting married?”   Sakura laughs uncomfortably, scratching at the back of her neck and glancing down at the glossy surface of her designed shoes.   “It happened pretty quickly. Didn’t have time to get a message out to the middle of a warzone.” She says. Yena nods disbelievingly.   “Sure.” Yena responds patronizingly. “I’m a little relieved, if I’m being honest - I was honestly afraid you’d end up marrying Hyewon for a while there.”   As much as Sakura adores her sharp-tongued friend, she cannot repress a shudder at the thought of marrying her.   “Honestly, me too.” She admits, and Yena laughs.   “I’ve seen pictures - you sure know how to pick them! Now why haven’t you introduced her to me yet?” Yena demands, and Sakura swirls her glass of wine awkwardly, before downing the remainder in one gulp. Yena raises an eyebrow at this and one corner of tips upwards.   “Trouble in paradise?” Yena enquires. Sakura nods, glancing away, thick and burning.   “Something like that.” Sakura responds, and the words are far more choked than she should have allowed them to be. Yena’s gaze softens into something sympathetic. She is perceptive, especially when it comes to Sakura, and Sakura can feel her long time friend picking apart every body language cue and facial expression that Sakura is unintentionally giving away.   “You ok?” Yena says slowly. Sakura nods, already glancing around for another drink.   “I’ve been better.” Is all she allows herself to admit, and Yena’s mouth twists. Yena looks like she’s about to interrogate further, but that is when Hyewon deigns to make her appearance, donned in a designer dress that is probably far too revealing for a charity Gala, smoothly downing an entire glass of wine in the short distance she crosses to arrive at Sakura’s side.   “Kkura-ya” She greets. She nods slightly at Yena, looking slightly like she’s swallowed something sour. “Yena.”   Yena smiles and nods back.   “Hyewon. Good to see you. I thought that might have been your broomstick I saw in the carpark on my way in.” Hyewon squints at Yena who put her empty glass on the tray of a passing waitress and grabbing another.   “I see you’ve decided to crawl out of the underworld for another night, Yena.” Hyewon says with a sneer, snatching the flute of champagne out of Yena's hand and downing it in one go, before handing the empty glass back to Yena and taking a delicate sip of her own. “Don’t let me interrupt your brotherly reunion, I just thought I’d let our dear Kkura over here know that her darling wife looks like she’s about three obnoxious giggles away from a fist fight with some of the most charming socialites in our Kingdom.” She comments, gesturing to where Eunbi is looking distinctly, uncomfortably crowded by two women near the bar. They grin eagerly at Eunbi, like vultures ready to snatch up a morsel. Sakura grimaces, and warmed by the alcohol she’s been steadily putting away throughout the way, she bids farewell to her friends to nudge her way through the crowd towards her wife.   As she nears the group, she begins to hear hints of conversation trickle towards her.   “All I’m saying is...” A tall woman with deep red lipstick and waist-length hair says, cocking her hip and staring unwaveringly at Eunbi. “You married her awfully quickly.”   Eunbi stiffens, just for seconds, just enough that probably only Sakura picks up on it. The subtle tension in her shoulders, the way she shifts her stance just slightly, the way her fingers curl in towards her palm, it all screams discomfort.   Sakura steps forward smoothly and slides a hand against Eunbi's palm, forcing her to uncurl her fingers and lace them with hers. To her credit, Eunbi does not jolt or startle, merely turns her face towards Sakura, an odd light in her eyes. The embarrassed flush that sits high on her cheeks and the slightly frazzled look in her eyes is a minor improvement from the zombie that Eunbi was when the night started out. Sakura smiles at her as warmly as she can muster, before turning to the three women that have crowded around Eunbi.   “Hello, ladies,” She greets. “I see you’ve had the pleasure of meeting my wife, mind if I join in the conversation?”   The tall woman, whose lipstick is applied with such accuracy the sharp edges look like they could cut someone, barely manages to mask her distaste at being interrupted with a sour smile.   “Your Highness.” She says with a bow, and the other two women follow suit. “We were just discussing your whirlwind lovestory.” She recites, like the words physically pain her to say. Her gaze is anchored firmly on Eunbi’s, sharp and intimidating, just like the rest of her, but Eunbi does not cower. Sakura narrows her eyes at the audacity of this woman, who acts as if Sakura is oblivious to the tension hovering in the air. Sakura has eyes, just like everyone in this small circle, and she can see the disrespect plain in the expressions of both women before her.   “Is that so?” Sakura responds, tightening her grip on Eunbi’s hand just slightly, and tugging the IZ*LAND Princess towards her as subtly as she can. Eunbi follows obediently, stepping in close enough that Sakura can feel the warmth of her body through the blazer of her suit. A shorter woman, who she recalls is a member of their parliament (and probably falsely secure in her social standing as a result), speaks up.   “Yes, we were just wondering how much money she had in her inheritance that she could buy your hand in marriage.” She jokes smugly, and Sakura has to admit that it takes quite a bit of effort to not let her jaw go slack in offence. She’s drunk, Sakura reasons, she can see it in the slight sway of her stance and the redness of her cheeks. Both women will wake in the morning severely regretting having talked to not just the Princess of IZ*LAND, but the Crown Princess of Miyawaki Kingdom as well, with such disrespect.   Irritated, Sakura releases her grip on Eunbi’s hand and wraps her arm around the shorter woman, pulling her in close in what is obviously meant to be a showy and affectionate gesture. She regrets the petty gesture the moment she feels Eunbi go stiff in her arms, but she cannot take it back.   “Well perhaps in the future you can wonder about your job security, because if I hear any more slanderous gossip spilling from your lips, I will not hesitate to make a lawsuit out of it.” Sakura threatens. She turns to Eunbi and smiles weakly. “Let’s go- I have something I need to speak to you.”   Eunbi lets herself be tugged until they reach a private alcove on a balcony, and Sakura slides the door shut when Eunbi whirls on her.   “What the heck was that?” She demands, and Sakura hasn’t really seen Eunbi angry before but she is angry right now. Confused and a little disorientated from Eunbi sudden change in mannerisms, Sakura takes an unsure step backwards.   “I just thought you could use a hand,” Sakura says meekly, and fury flashes in Eunbi's eyes.   “Ah, so it’s only acceptable to act like my wife in public?” Eunbi responds, more animated than Sakura has seen her all day. Gone is the absent, miserable light to her eyes. “Maybe put on a show for anyone standing by, so they can look at you and think ‘wow, what a wonderful wife she is’?”   “What? No, that’s not what I-“ Sakura begins, trying to defend herself, but Eunbi cuts her off.   “Stop it, please.” Eunbi begs her. “Just stop being so… inconsistent!”   “Inconsistent?” Sakura exclaims, thoroughly confused. She has no idea what Eunbi is talking about or what in the prior sequence of events led to this blowup.   “Just… either be nice to me or be awful to me.” Eunbi says, losing some of her steam, and deflating something. Her expression takes on that listless dimness that had been plaguing her the past two days. “Don’t… don’t be nice to me in public if you won’t do the same at home.”   Stiffening, Sakura starts to understand what Eunbi is talking about, and she feels the beginning of guilt tickle at the inside of her ribs. Admittedly, she has been running a bit hot and cold with Eunbi, but it’s not out of any malicious intention. The whole situation is just so confusing and she feels so out of her depth. Eunbi is unpredictable and she doesn’t know what Eunbi wants, which is hard enough on its own, but then, Sakura doesn’t know what she herself wants either. Still, she feels a brief sting or frustration, enough to retaliate at Eunbi's accusations.   “You’ve done the same!” Sakura shoots back. “One minute we’re getting along fine, and the next you’re avoiding me! One second you’re smiling at me and leaving tea for me and the next you’re like a zombie.”   Eunbi straightens, and her eyes go wide, filling abruptly with tears. Sakura gapes at her, instantly regretting her words as tears begin to spill down Eunbi's cheeks.   “That’s…” Eunbi starts. “That’s because…” her hands come up to scrub at her cheeks and Sakura notes with alarm that Eunbi will smudge her mascara and she doesn’t know how they can make it through the function room without someone picking up on the fact that they’ve been arguing.   “Wait, don’t cry, please!” Sakura begs. In a panic, she bats her hands away, pulling out a handkerchief to dabs the tears away gently, taking care not to smear the mascara that clings to Eunbi's already-long dark lashes.   “I’m sorry.” Eunbi exhales, falling limply in her grasp and allowing Sakura to gently clean her face. “I’ve just… I…” Her words become choked and die in . A fresh wave of tears spills forward and she squints up at Sakura with such an achingly heartbroken expression that Sakura feels her own eyes sting with unshed tears.   “I think it’s time for us to go home.” Sakura says softly. “I think we’ve had enough for one day.”   Slowly, Eunbi nods her agreement and allows Sakura to lead her out of the building as she calls for the driver.   No more words are exchanged in the long ride home.       ***************       Of the things that Sakura is expecting to find at the breakfast table the next morning, Eunbi hovering beside it with breakfast fully laid out is not one of them. Sakura had assumed; following their fight from the night before, that Eunbi would return to ignoring her with the occasional tea cup outside her study for her to overthink, for the rest of their lives. Obviously that is not Eunbi’s intention, if her presence in the dining room is any indicator.   Eunbi knots her fingers together nervously while Sakura continues to stare stupidly at her. Finally, Eunbi can bear the tension no longer and clears awkwardly.   “I… made breakfast.” Eunbi announces hesitantly, gesturing to the cut fruits and scrambled eggs and toast she has set out on their table. Sakura stares, she has not had a meal not prepared by professional chefs since her mother was alive, and the thought of a homecooked meal makes grow tight. Sakura scrambles to sit opposite her. Eunbi flushes at her eagerness. “It’s nothing major… I’m a little rusty at my cooking since I haven’t cooked in so long, but I thought it might be nice… to have breakfast together.”   “It’s wonderful.” Sakura says, a sort of sticky, warm feeling that resembles molasses f