— She has Naruto now, she doesn't need any of the Two. — Tenten spoke loudly enough that some guards gave us curious looks.
— But she doesn't love Naruto. — Hinata replied with unusual firmness.
Tenten arched an eyebrow, a teasing smile on her lips.
— And do you love?
Hinata blushed instantly, right down to the roots of her hair. An awkward silence settled in. What did we really feel for the prince?
Pakura broke the tension, her voice laden with malice.
— How about we be honest? How do each of us feel about him?
Tenten was the first to speak.
— I don't love him. I want that damn crown. I've never done anything really important in my life until I got here. I come from a really big family where no one ever noticed me... until my picture appeared in the Selection.
Tenten wanted to be seen.
Hinata sighed, gathering her courage. Her trembling lips betrayed the effort she was making to speak.
— He respects me. And he is kind. No woman in my family has married for love, nor has any man. I would rather be respected than loved. If the prince can offer me that… then I will stay with him.
Hinata wanted to be respected.
Pakura smirked, as if she was about to reveal an explosive secret.
— I love him. And I want him to send you all away. Because I want him to choose me. And marry me.
Pakura wanted to be loved.
The statement knocked the air out of my lungs. Not because it was my turn to speak. But because I loved him too. Deeply and absurdly. And I wasn't prepared to hear someone else say they felt the same way.
I swallowed hard.
— I love him. But I'm scared. Scared because a princess's life awaits me... and until yesterday, I was picking carrots in my garden.
Another minute of silence. Each one digesting the other's words.
Then Tenten, with an almost accusatory tone, asked:
—How far did you go with the prince?
Pakura raised her chin proudly.
— We kissed three times. Never where or how I want. I often try to go further, but he always pulls back.
Tenten looked surprised. Hinata was horrified. And I… felt sad.
— And you? — I asked Tenten.
— Once. During a hunt. He never tried to repeat it.
"I've never kissed him," Hinata declared before we could ask. And then her eyes fell on me. "Have you kissed him, Sakura?"
My throat went dry.
- Often.
I bit my lip, remembering the night of the masquerade ball. The warmth of his hands, the firmness of his arms, the sweat running down my spine as goosebumps rose. Him moaning my name…
That was my secret. And they weren't supposed to know.
***
— Sakura… Sakura… wake up… Sakura…
It was past two in the morning when I heard her voice at my door. I had planned to wake up late, really late, so I could afford to read another chapter of the book Say Goodbye to Love, which Darui had recommended to me and given me a copy of. It was a story of tragic love, written by an author from the Land of Thunder whose name I couldn't pronounce without pouting and rolling my tongue.
I got out of bed and opened the door.
I had never seen him so informal. No suit, no dress shirt, no tie. He was wearing only a t-shirt, showing off his golden muscles, his unruly blond hair even messier than usual. Dark blue sweatpants and slippers completed the look.
Your majesty in slippers.
— Yes? — I asked, crossing my arms.
— Pancakes. How about it?
I looked at the imaginary watch on my wrist.
— It's two in the morning.
— I need caramel and strawberries.
— Uh… Naruto…
He looked me in the eyes and smiled. That smile that made any woman obey him. And then, I gave in. Partly because I didn't want to sleep. Partly because I loved him.
I hadn't known we'd have to go so far down to get to the kitchens. Hundreds, maybe thousands of steps later, I found myself in front of the largest kitchen I'd ever seen. Rows of gleaming pots, industrial stoves, huge refrigerators. In the center of the main wall was a large portrait of Queen Tsunade, young and beautiful, clutching the arm of the former King Dan.
— What do you need?
I blinked a few times, processing the question. Naruto rummaged through the fridge, grabbed a can of condensed milk and a jar of blackberry jam, and placed them on the table. When he turned to me, he had a huge turkey leg in his mouth.
- Like this?
He finished the thigh in five bites and tossed the bone in the trash. He licked his fingers clean of sauce and washed his hands in the sink.
— The jelly ones are my favorite.
Then I understood. He wanted me to cook.
It was rare to find someone from Caste Four who didn't know how to cook. We were bred for the kitchens, the stables, the animals, and the land. We knew spices and essences better than anyone else. That was our job.
Naruto started by pouring milk into the wrong amount of flour. I took the glass container from his hands before he messed up the recipe, which I knew by heart. I let him stir the blueberry jam syrup over the stove while he prepared the dough.
Feeling the handle of the wooden spoon between his fingers brought a strange sensation. As if it were a memory from a past life.
— Were you happy to see her? — Naruto asked unconcernedly.
I turned to him. He was already watching me, forgetting about the pot on the stove.
— You have my eternal gratitude for what you did — I replied simply.
Naruto smiled, a gentle smile.
— For saving them, for making sure they were safe in that house, and most importantly, for marrying them. We have never had a marriage like that in our country.
He looked away at the bubbling jelly in the pan before continuing:
— When I was little… my mother used to say that love was the most powerful thing in the world. I don't know… But when I got to the infirmary and saw Ino and Karui, you know… I felt it was love. True love, the kind my mother talked about. And it shouldn't be subject to laws.
Naruto turned off the heat and stood there for a moment, staring at me. Those eyes. His eyes.
The left iris was as sky blue as the summer sea. The right one was a lighter shade, and around the pupil were small green dots, dancing like a ballerina. I looked at each one, from side to side, trying to decide which one I liked best.
Then, without saying anything, he pulled out a frying pan hanging above the counter, placed it on the stove, and a second later poured in some of the batter I had prepared.