As princess of a great empire, you were bitter about your forced marriage to the second son of a shinobi clan. Hatred inspired you to burn every bridge as you became enemies with those who were your allies and became friends with those who would bet...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
A/N: I cracked my knuckles and typed up a storm. Last week I was complaining about how I can't write. Then I read all the comments I haven't responded to, answered, and now I'm in the middle of making these long chapters by accident.
So yeah... Enjoy~
[x]
Two days pass, fast and in a blur. Preparations for the ball monopolize most of your time until the fateful day. Your mother should have been the one to plan all of this, but sometime in your visit, her excitement to host shattered. She no longer wanted much to do with you, forcing your father to take over the preparations. Though leading an Empire does not allow him to party plan, and so you finish all the last details by the morning of the ball.
Exhausted and in a haze, you watch as Hisa places a tiara at the top of your head. You wear the final gift of your father's extensive daily presents: a regal blue ballgown with a sweetheart neckline bodice that becomes a fluffed skirt enhanced by the petticoat beneath. Silver beading and jewels ornate the dress in patterns that look like the night sky filled with stars. The sleeves are made of only jewels as well as the cape you wear behind you. You are the epitome of a princess... No, the epitome of an Empress.
It's hard to believe that in another timeline at this exact moment, you were confined in a small room, wailing out your frustrations as your family enjoyed themselves at the palace while using you as a stepping stone. You were discarded, empty, and alone. No one cared about you. No one gave you gifts or dressed you up.
Hisa notices the pain on your expression but says not a word in acknowledgment. She still does not understand what ails you so greatly and only can do her best in serving you to alleviate the sadness. Though her instincts serve her well as she rushes to the door to grant your husband entry into the room, hoping to break your gloomy thinking.
Tobirama treads over to you, dressed in a silver suit with royal blue accents. As always, he's mesmerizing with how he carries himself. You can't help but stare at him in a daze, but it seems that he too finds you enchanting. He's quiet, taking in the full extent of your deity-like beauty.
Once it clicks in his mind that the beauty before him is unshakably his wife, he steps forward and kneels before you, grabbing hold of your hand so gently as he places it near his lips. The kiss is soft, a subtle sweetness that tickles your skin. "My beautiful wife... How fortunate am I to be called your husband."
Your small smile greets your husband. He spots the tinge of depression that dampens your spirit and opens his mouth to question you. Yet Hisa interrupts, "Your Royal Highness is already late. She must leave now."
He raises himself to stand properly. His gaze promises a swift discussion once the moment arises, but for now, he whisks you away towards the great ballroom. You hold his arm tightly as a poor attempt to suppress the dancing nerves that speed your heart.
