It isn't her place to care, and she doesn't, not yet. Anthy and Saionji before it starts.
Chu-Chu is running around chasing some sort of beetle whose scales are glittering purplish green in the afternoon sunlight. Occasionally he pokes it with a little stick and immediately recoils when it clicks its antennae threateningly in his direction.
There is some kind of ruckus going on outside (a flash of red hair and a mocking laughter) but she pays it no mind. It isn't her place to care about something like that; her tasks lie elsewhere.
Enter Saionji with a feral look in his eyes. He slams the door behind him and all of the tiny glass windows tremble with the force of it. Saionji is clenching his fists so hard his knuckles are white. His jaw is tense, and he's shaking with fury as he is wont to do whenever he is slighted. Anthy pays this no mind either. It isn't her place to care about something like that, not unless he tells her to (and vaguely, she hopes he won't).
He grabs her arm now, the sudden movement causing her to drop her watering can. She's not upset over it, she can continue her watering tomorrow, or the day after that.
Instead she tilts her head a little to the left, a mild smile appearing on her lips. "Saionji-sama, " she says softly, placatingly, and it seems to work even though she really has said nothing at all. He just nods and relaxes his grip, doesn't notice the marks he left on her arm but wouldn't be concerned even if he had. And it's not her place to care about something like that, even if he hurts her (there are worse pains, far worse pains).
"Come, " he says, and of course she follows.
His room is tidy, sparkly clean, everything in its proper place and the faint smell of roses clings to the bedspreads. He embraces her desperately, and she acquiesces, melts into his arms and out of her clothes and onto his bed. He can do whatever he wishes to her, and more; she'll do whatever he asks of her but nothing else. It isn't her place to like or dislike his touches, nor will she care to correct him if he mistakes her obedience for love, but she makes all the right noises since that is what he wants.
"You'll stay with me, always," he murmurs, and only waits for her to answer "To the ends of the world, Saionji-sama" before he drifts off to sleep. When his breathing slows down and his muscles relax, she eases out of his arms, out of his dorm. She will be back beside Saionji before dawn breaks, but there is something she must do.
The night wind is cold against her bare legs and the chilly wind makes her eyes tear, but the observatory is waiting and she hurries along. At the end of her path she surrenders willingly to her true prince; here, at least, there are no pretenses.
It shouldn't be her place to love so desperately but she does, she has to, even though her heart is breaking with the effort, even if she's breaking him with it. And it is wrong wrong wrong but it is the way it has to be now that she's taken them both down this path (the morning star leading her astray)
When they're done she stays in his arms and listens to him as he spins his plans. Tomorrow there will be a new challenger; the stage has been set and a new role cast. It isn't her place to care and she doesn't, not yet, but she can't help but wonder if maybe this time there will be a revolution.
And though she doesn't care she still feels a spark of pity for Saionji when she returns to lie next to him; he doesn't know it yet and won't until this afternoon when she will have posted a rejected recycled letter for everyone to see, but his time is up now and he's out of her life.