Chapter 135: 'Turning Tables'

"But my princess!"Gearan remonstrated pleadingly.

"You realize that THIS is most improper!"

The scene in which the imperial Chef found himself presented an odd picture to be sure.

Standing, in his traditional attire just outside the dining area side of the Masaki family kitchen.

A cordon of hand selected helpers waiting anxiously behind, where the lot of them had been promptly ejected only moments before.

He had actually been looking forward to yet another challenge. The prospect of 'roughing it', making do with the spartan facilities of the tiny kitchen presented here. All after being asked to prepare the traditional post nuptial repast in a manor calculated to put the new royal couple more at ease.

But to be subjected to this?

"And I'm a tell'n yah!" Sasami swore, drawing herself up regally just inside.

"If you and these goons don't clear out of My KITCHEN and let me make family breakfast!

There aren't enough pillows in the Jurian Empire to pad your fannies from the kick'n I'll give 'em!"

Likewise girded for battle, wearing a full bright red apron with 'Chef to impress' emblazoned in yellow over a light blue housecoat.

The second princess glared uncompromising at the imperial Chef and his five assistants over crossed spatulas. Sasami extruding a regal air not diluted one bit by the bright pink 'bunny slippers'.

"But it is TRADITION! for the imperial Chef to prepare breakfast for the royal couple!" Gearan all but begged. Actually placing his hands together in supplication.

He was having difficulty equating the regal young beauty before him as the same 'little Sasami'.

Who's soft pink eyes had looked up at him from just below various tables and counters.

Shyly asking 'grandpa Gearan' 'if'n' she could please lick the bowl?

"Is it not also TRADITION?" She challenged hotly, those same amazing eyes glaring hard his direction.

"To show 'homage' within the realm of the Goddess?"

"Well, I..." The master chef stammered.

He was not however entertaining any doubt as to what and more precisely 'whom' Sasami truly was!

Along with anyone here with more than a few brain cells. Not any longer.

"Take a good look around!" Sasami gestured with a spatula about at the kitchen above and behind.

"THIS IS IT BUCKO!" She concluded hotly.

"Bucko?" One of the assistants wondered quietly to his fellows.

"Look, grandpa Gearen?" Sasami suddenly softened.

"I don't want to be rude! But this is MY place and I'm going to cook for my family ... And."

Something in her gaze eroded slightly more.

"I, I really need this!" Sasami concluded. Studying the master Chef's eyes intently another moment.

"If it's that important to you," She conceded.

"You're certainly welcome to help out!" She gestured behind at his assistants.

"But these little boys are gon'na have to beat it!"

"I..." Gearen smiled, then after a moment bowed. Making his own concessions.

"Would be honored my princess!"

"Ok, now that, that's settled." She sighed while finally giving ground. Waving at the counter to her right.

"You can start chopping those veggies over there!"

Having taken three good steps inside, Gearen halted in his tracks, eyes going wide.

"I?" He gaped. "Chop ingredients while YOU prepare?"

"Well, you want to help out right?" Sasami smiled shrugging.

"I WILL NOT BE DEMOTED TO SU-CHEF!" Gearen suddenly yelled.

Maintaining her smile, Sasami indicated herself then the general room again using her 'right hand' spatula.

"Goddess, Realm?" She added, batting her eyes elaborately. Before pointing to the door behind him.

"Take it or leave?"

"Put in that fashion..." Gearan grumbled starting forwards, after a pause. "I'll take it."

Moving hastily towards the awaiting counter all while continuing to mutter under his breath.

"The very idea..."

He stopped cold a moment later suddenly hearing what was an unmistakable giggle from one of his aids.

"And if someone wants to be peeling 'fruit leeches' for the next six solar years ... please DO continue!"

Gearan snapped without looking.

"This is such a treat!" Misaki gushed, upon entering the dining area, just behind Azusa.

"Getting to eat together as a family!"

"With Sasami doing the cooking." Funaho mused pleasantly.

"Yes it is wonderful." She added wistfully.

Watching as Misaki waved vigorously to her father where the Imperial chef was contritely but efficiently preparing on the counter inside.

"Hi poppa!"

"I didn't raise my daughter to be a house servant." Azusa managed to grumble before a sharp elbow promptly cut him off.

"Why, we haven't done something like this!" Misaki smiled elaborately, enduring his glare while withdrawing her arm. "Since... ?"

"The last time we were here." Funaho finished lightly.

"And that was just snacks and tea!" Misaki said brightly.

Pausing in 'the moment' clasping her hands, eyes sparkling.

"I'm just so happy!"

"And I see that you have risen early my son." Funaho added, just noticing Katsuhito already 'seated' at head of the table.

Her dark almond eyes then moved smoothly to where Washu knelt just to his side.

"Professor." She intoned politely, an approving smile coloring her lips.

Washu's response was merely to nod while gently squeezing Katsuhito's hand under the table.

The moment just past, only a reaffirmation of the previous nights passions. And their mutual decision to finally pursue them.

She more than anyone knew only too well the reverence the quiet man beside her had for his mother.

Things took a decidedly strange turn however when Azusa suddenly stopped a few feet away, looking disdainfully down at his son.

There followed a brief pause, before the emperor cleared his throat.

"Father." Katsuhito intoned respectfully looking up.

"Have you forgotten your place my son?" Azusa asked coldly, indicating with a curt wave of his hand the 'head' of the table.

Another brief interval ensued, while Katsuhito considered.

"Not at all," He answered mildly. "As eldest member, my place is here."

"You have forgotten Apparently." Azusa said darkly. "It is I who am Eldest member."

"Oh, for pities sake!" Washu huffed, just short of rolling her eyes.

"Perhaps back in your palace..." Katsuhito began.

"Enough of this both of you!" Funaho snapped angrily.

"I will not tolerate this! on the day after Ayeka's wedding!" She leaned down glaring at Katsuhito.

"Yosho, let your father sit at the head of the table!"

There was an instant locking of eyes, for perhaps a nano-second before...

"Y, yes mother." He agreed, quietly deflating.

Standing long enough to relocate to one side as Washu also gave ground.

"And you!" The queen continued, directly to where Azusa stood smugly observing.

"Stop being such a bully!"

"But I... !" Azusa gaped astonished.

"And please, do sit down!" Funaho continued angrily.

"Especially now that you've gotten you're way!"

Mouth still working, robbed of his victory the emperor sullenly knelt, a dark cloud settling over his features.

"The very idea!" Funaho sniffed. Taking her place by Azusa's side as Misaki was 'seating herself.

"I wish you two would learn to get along!"

"But, MOTHER!" Katsuhito began. Even as the Emperor in his turn was gaping.

"Beloved!" Azusa gasped.

"NOT! Another word!" Funaho told them sternly. Meeting both mens gaze with a glare that was without compromise.

"Boys will be boys." Washu remarked mildly after a moments 'settling'. During which neither man chose to look at the other.

"Indeed!" Misaki sighed, leaning forwards enough to look directly at Azusa.

"And I wouldn't have them any other way!" She added smiling dreamily once his attention was fully

upon her.

Carefully mouthing "I love you." As he continued to look.

Hoping to sooth his wounded ego as her adoring gaze seemed to soften, somewhat the hard cast of Azusa's face. Demonstrating Masaki's unflagging knowledge of just how to pull his strings.

The minor conflict, already well subsided was forgotten in the next instant when the Tanzuru stationed about all came to respectful attention. Focusing all interested parties upon a most expected series of arrivals.

The lady Ena led the small precession. The royal concubine, dressed resplendent in crimson and gold.

The high collared affair she wore tailored in the manner of a flowing long sleeved gown.

The upper and lower halves of the outfit connected by two descending swaths crisscrossing the breasts then narrowing to connect to ether side of the hips.

Exposing the impeccably toned azure entirety of her lower sternum and abdomen to well below the navel. The tailored 'v' cut to the flowing skirt's front giving full display to her badge of office, the royal Jurian crest positioned tantalizingly just above her 'Mons pubis'.