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For all the pageantry, for all the parades and performances—all the trained dogs and first-caliber katzenmusik—and in complete defiance of royal decree, it was the dreariest wedding the Cat Kingdom had ever seen. The bride's ears and whiskers drooped, which might have been simple nerves, as she had only been a cat for a short time, but the groom had no such excuse, and he stared off affrontedly into the distance over the priest's head; certain incautious courtiers would later repeat a rumor that he had flicked the tip of his tail during the exchange of vows. Perhaps the only one truly satisfied with the whole affair was the father of the groom.
"Well," he said as the couple marched stiff-tailed back out of the cat-hedral, "wasn't that fine?"
His attendant twitched a whisker, but only on the side facing away from him. "Indeed, sire. Very fine."
Married! Haru couldn't believe it. She was just an ordinary girl, not—well, she had been, until—she buried her face in her paws to hide her tears, and fought the ridiculous urge to try to stuff herself under the furniture.
"There, there," Yuki said quietly, a little awkward, as if she'd heard this was how people comforted one another but hadn't ever tried it herself. She petted Haru gently. She had been given the honor—the king said it was an honor, anyway, and maybe for a cat it was true, but Haru doubted it—of being her maidservant. "Prince Lune is...very kind."
Her voice sounded so heartbroken that Haru had to stop her sobbing for long enough to look up. "Yuki?" she said. "What's the matter?"
Yuki only shook her head, even though her expression was more mournful than Haru had ever thought a cat's could be. "It's nothing, Miss Haru. Princess Haru," she corrected herself, and that made her look even sadder. She shook herself, ears flicking, and drew herself up straight. "I'm sorry to worry you. We should be packing for your honeymoon!"
No matter what Haru tried, she wouldn't say any more about it after that.
The sunshine was plentiful and the hunting was excellent; most of their entourage was in fine spirits—yet Prince Lune found that he was enjoying his honeymoon not at all. Haru had been a kind girl and was a very fetching cat, her ears sweetly rounded, her fur kitten soft. She was even beginning to adjust, pouncing timidly when toys were batted across the country manor's ballroom...but she wasn't Yuki.
Not that she could help that, the poor thing. Nobody could be anyone but who they were, after all. They were all three caught up in Father's mad ideas, with nothing to do but turn their tails to the wind and endure.
So Lune did his best to be kind to Haru, to help her feel a little less lost. It must be quite a change, coming to the Cat Kingdom after spending all that time among humans; his own brief sojourn into human country, into all that noise and chaos, had been quite enough to last him a lifetime. And Yuki—
He went to see her one afternoon when Haru had found a sunbeam to bask in, perched on her windowsill and waited for her to let him in.
"Your highness," Yuki murmured when she saw him there, and bowed.
"Yuki," Lune said. His tail drooped despite himself. "I came to apologize. If I had been quicker on my errand—if I had been more ready to stand up to my father—then I never would have disappointed you so."
Her ears pricked forward. "Lune?"
He couldn't help himself; he hopped down from the windowsill and crossed the room to take her paws in his. "I'm sorry, Yuki. I did mean everything I said to you, and if there's anything I could do to make you happy—"
Yuki stretched up enough to be able to rub her cheek against his. "Thank you," she said. "You want me to be happy, and Haru is kind. Th-this...will be all right."
The worst part was that she got lonely. The rest she could get used to—not having to rush out of bed in the morning was actually pretty nice, and mice didn't taste so bad once she had a cat's taste buds to eat them with—but Haru really missed having friends. She knew she was moping, lying around the castle listlessly, but it was hard to stop herself.
"What troubles you, Haru?" Prince Lune asked her one afternoon.
Haru sat up guiltily and washed her paw for a moment. "It sounds selfish when I say it out loud," she warned him.
"Say it anyway," he answered. "The cat who cries gets the cream."
"Well," Haru said, "it's just that—sometimes I wish I'd never come here!" Her tail bristled a bit as she found the courage to say it. "It's nice to be a princess, I guess, and you're handsome, for a cat, but I miss my mom and my life and I didn't want to marry you at all!" She wanted to cry and pin her ears back and—she didn't even know.
Prince Lune came over and just sat beside her, close enough for her to feel how warm he was, and purred quietly. Haru sniffled a bit, but the sound of his purr was comforting, and after a minute she leaned against him. He groomed her ears, slow, soothing strokes, and purred some more.
Eventually he said, "If I knew a way to turn you back, I would do it. My father didn't ask me what I thought of this marriage before he arranged it, either."
Haru sat up straight again. "You don't like me?"
"I think you are a fine young lady," Prince Lune said, "and I owe you my life. Probably I would have liked to marry you, or someone like you, if I hadn't been...secretly in love with someone already."
"Secretly in love?" Haru repeated, her eyes going wide. "That's tragic! And the king didn't care?"
Prince Lune's whiskers twitched wryly. "You've seen how hard it is to convince him of anything," he said. "He had decided—you saved my life, and so we were meant for each other."
"I'm sorry," Haru said. "Not for saving your life, I mean!" Her ears drooped. "She must hate me. Your secret love."
"Oh, no, not at all," Prince Lune insisted. "We're sorry to be separated, of course." He laid his paw over hers. "But neither of us could ever hate you. You've been too kind to us both."
Haru's tail curled up curiously. "She's somebody I know?" That was a short list, really; she'd met a lot of cats, but she didn't really know very many.
Prince Lune nodded. "Miss Yuki," he said.
"Of course!" Haru exclaimed, and then felt silly and had to wash her paws again. "I am sorry. She would have been a lovely princess."
"Well, what's done is done," Prince Lune said. He leaned against Haru. "This isn't what either of us would have chosen, but do you suppose we might still be friends? I'd like that, and I think Yuki would, too."
Haru nodded. "I would, too," she said quietly. It would be better here, having friends. Something felt funny in her throat, and when she tried to clear it she discovered she was purring. It was a tiny purr, and rattly, but it was a start.
It was one of Yuki's duties to come attend to Haru's grooming—there were those spots that were always tricky to reach oneself, and a princess could expect a certain amount of fussing over. Today when she came up to Haru's room, though, instead of napping in a sunbeam Haru was chasing a rattle-toy across the floor. Yuki's hindquarters twitched, and she tried not to track the toy too avidly. "Miss Haru?"
"Yuki!" Haru said, looking up. "Would you like to play?"
"I'm—I'm fairly sure it isn't proper," Yuki said, though her paws already weren't listening to her, step-stepping in place so she'd be prepared to move.
Haru's tail swished. "Just for a little bit?"
She batted the toy across the floor and Yuki pounced.
They chased the toy around the room—and chased each other around the room—until they were both completely out of breath and giggling, and the toy had disappeared, wedged under a chair in a corner somewhere. Haru rolled on her back, laughing, and Yuki forgot herself enough to sprawl out beside her.
"Yuki," Haru said after a bit. "I want you to...I want you to know that I'm sorry, about you and Prince Lune. And—"
"It's all right," Yuki said before she could get any further. "I'm still glad to know you, Haru." She rolled over, close enough that she could groom the awkward spot under Haru's chin. Haru stopped protesting, and eventually managed a bit of a purr.
Eventually, there was an afternoon when Prince Lune discovered the pair of them in the midst of playtime. The three of them were nearly inseparable after that.
The following spring, when Haru was due to come into season, all three of them left the castle together; the king was badly behaved at the best of times, and very few of his soldiers could keep their manners when faced with the sweet scent of a lady in peak season. Lune was cat enough to trounce any three of them, of course, but they agreed it would be more pleasant if he didn't need to.
So the three of them retired to a little cottage quite in the middle of nowhere, and when the warm needy haze of her season overtook Haru, she arched her back and mewled for Lune to give her satisfaction. In between times, the three of them curled up in a heap, paws and tails in all directions, and napped on each other affectionately. Yuki's own season was hurried along by Haru's, so they extended their vacation a few more days to make sure she had the chance to enjoy Lune's attentions as well.
The number of royal blue kittens tumbling about the palace that summer, half of them silky and the other half fluffy, was cause enough for scandal—but the three cats at the center of it all turned their tails to the wind, as the saying went, and took no notice of the trouble. They had each other; what else did they need?