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Midsummer, and Lord Kwan was away. In my first day as his attendant, I embarrassed myself. Trying to be dutiful, I’d gotten up before breakfast to go to his room. When he didn’t answer, I worried and peeked. He was still in bed then, rolling over with a groggy expression and calling me in. He didn’t actually need me. It was more for the show and to keep others out of his room. He didn’t put it past Lin to try and exploit the position; something I thought seemed out of character for her, though I only knew her two years and Lord Kwan for some decades.
Though, it still haunted me how everyone talked about each other. How the women talked about Lord Kwan, or any lord as a prize. It felt gross in my mouth to think about it—and worse to think if someone said that about me, making it seem like I should be so honored. I wasn’t beautiful, or the most gifted, but I wasn’t the worst at most things—I wasn’t useless! Even if I made a mess of things during court, and I wasn’t a proper lady or an adept servant for a noble Juneun... Was I worse off than I thought?
Things resumed, more or less, to normal. I picked up my riding lessons again not long after court ended, thinking that I may as well get used to it if I did decide to accept Juro’s proposal. That’s what everyone else said I should do, even if I didn’t want it.
Why was I so spineless about this? Because I didn’t have better prospects at home, now that rumors piled onto my lack of beauty and skill? I’d learned more in Lord Kwan’s service than I could have ever hoped for at home. And if I asked, maybe the kitchen staff would teach me a bit. They didn’t appear to dislike me, and I didn’t mind fetching things and getting messy. In Yua’s absence, I could use my temporary position to pressure an agreement.
Something in my gut burned with delight. I hated myself for considering anything less than love. What did it matter what everyone else thought? It wasn’t their life! I couldn’t back talk or be blunt as a servant girl. But I wouldn’t be a servant forever. I could outright refuse anything I wanted then. My father and brothers wouldn’t allow it, not after my having been gone for five years, I was sure of it.
Saburo picked up on my mood. His ears swiveled this way and that, his tail swishing, and he snorted in his breathing. Our pace picked up without my notice until an unpleasant and speedy trot made me feel as though I would fall. Then he broke into a canter. The noise around me faded away. There was only the air whipping past my ear. At the same time, I didn’t feel that we were going fast at all. We’d smoothed out and my balance reset. It was as close to flying as I could imagine, and I smiled. I wanted to go faster, to leave behind every thought that my mind ever used against me, if only we could go just a little faster. I felt free. We ran that same length over and over, but I felt freer than I had since I was nine years old. It was me and Saburo and the wind, and nothing else.
When at last I felt calm again, I pulled back on the reins gently and cooed to signal my desire to slow to a stop. Saburo obliged. I knew then that I loved riding. Not because someone wanted me to, but because of that experience of freedom and oneness. I breathed deep, holding it for a moment before I let go. My smile stayed.
Syaoran clapped from the side, having filled in as my instructor. “That was beautiful! Good job. But don’t keep Saburo stopped, let him walk a while to cool down his muscles.”
I relaxed my hold, letting Saburo wander as I kept my head high. I wouldn’t let rumors or teases bother me anymore, not without a fight. I’d go home so well skilled that it would be impossible for me to think it was ever foolish to wish for love. If no romance awaited me in my own village, I could ride to others. I would make it so that I could be limitless. That’s what it felt like in that moment.
When I came out of my daydreaming, I saw Lord Kwan standing beside Syaoran in light conversation. He was home again, and I nudged Saburo to trot over softly to greet him. I dismounted with dignity, keeping my smile as I welcomed my friend.
“Is Saburo taking care of you?” asked Lord Kwan.
Before I could answer, start some small conversation, Gi came up with a request from Lin wanting to see me.
“She’s wasted no time getting settled in her new station,” said Lord Kwan, that hint of a smile on his face.
Syaoran crossed his arms. “She doesn’t give anyone an inch to challenge her. I think she’s holding the position well. I can see it stresses her, but she’s not the sort to let anyone walk on her.”
Lord Kwan nodded, looking to me. “I’ll take Saburo, so you can go directly.”
I handed off the reins, my smile struggling to stay strong. As I walked, I could hear part of their continued conversation.
“So you approve of my choice?”
“I do, my lord.”
****
Going to a common space, Lin had three other women I’d never seen before. They sat with perfect manners and not the slightest slouch. All of their eyes went to me as I walked in and tried to make a good presentation of myself, even though I was coated in dust and sweat in my riding clothes.
I stood politely, moving only when Lin waved me over.
“Take this to the guardhouse at the outer gate. The faster, the better.” She handed me a rolled paper, tied with twine.
There were a handful of questions I had. Why send for me and not have Gi walk it down? What made this urgent, and was it wise to have me be the one to carry it, especially in front of strangers? I ignored the questions, not wanting to embarrass her, and did as she asked.
I was barely out of the first gate and headed for the endless stairs when Lord Kwan called for me.
“What do you have there?”
I looked from Lord Kwan, standing in front of me, to the length of stairs that led into a decorative bamboo forest. “Lin wanted me to carry this to the gatekeepers below, my lord.”
He held out a palm, a wordless command. And I obeyed. Watching him open it, I began to fidget. When he raised a brow, allowing his hint of a smile to strengthen, I squinted at his expression.
“Clever.” He handed it off to me.
There was nothing important written on it. Times. And a simple phrase asking what they heard. “My lord?”
When he understood my confusion, he summed up the ploy. “She wanted to see their reaction, and listening to comments made about you.”
“Me? But, why?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say it’s to sift out anyone likely to cause problems and spread distasteful gossip. Who better to bait them than my human prisoner, now attendant?”
It’d been so long since I’d heard the word prisoner that I’d nearly forgotten. Outside these walls, the rest of the world surely remembered that fact.
“Yua used to call in Syaoran for similar reasons. Lin is astute, I’ll grant her that.”
“I was being sent on a fool’s errand?” the words made my jaw want to lock up.
“And likely will again if she’s not content with any of the lot so far. Though, it seems like a less calculated thought sending you all the way down to the outer gate. Unless she wanted them to run into you again.”
I rubbed at my arms in new discomfort. “I don’t like that.”
“I imagine not,” said Lord Kwan. “Syaoran can just as easily be let in on her scheme and create an illusion. If she panicked, it may have slipped her memory.”
I sighed, about to part ways to head for my room where I could wash and change.
“Come with me, Hisa.”
Blinking, I thought I misunderstood for a second. He didn’t walk back through the inner gate to go to his room. Rather, he walked in the direction of my preferred spot between the walls. I followed, of course, and tried to guess at what he wanted.
“Are you confident enough to ride outside the walls?” asked Lord Kwan, though he didn’t look at me or stop his stride.
Again, I didn’t understand where this was all going. “Yes, my lord.”
“We’ll be going up the mountain in a few days. You’ll take your own horse this time.”
My smile returned, remembering the lake and the honey-sweet peaches. I didn’t mind the rest of the walk going on in silence. My imagination kept preoccupied with thoughts on how to show off my horsemanship skill.
We stopped under the shade of the trees in my favorite spot, though he said nothing. I broke from my thoughts, looking at Lord Kwan and then to the surrounding area. I almost didn’t spot it. A swing.
“You have these in your village, do you not?”
I rose on my toes, my smile widening. “I haven’t gone on one in a long time. Not since I was little. But they were a bit different in the village.”
“Oh? How so?”
I went over to it. “We weave the ropes ourselves. But they’re brittle. And the bottom piece is usually whatever fallen branch that seems thick enough to hold a bit of weight for a while. One part or the other always breaks after a month or so.” I admired the thick braided rope, and the wood seat carved specifically for this purpose, wide enough for two people to be on it.
“Climb on,” said Lord Kwan.
I looked back at him, hesitating a moment. It was so fine a thing, and I still wasn’t used to being allowed to use something like it at my own discretion. He waited, expectant, and I happily placed my feet on it. What I didn’t expect was for him to push at the ropes and give me a gentle start.
I’d forgotten the rush of joy swaying higher and higher, with the wind pushing my hair forward and back in tandem with every rise and fall.
Then, he climbed on behind me, his feet to either side of my own, and his hands a little higher than mine.
“I used to spend all my idle time as a boy on one of these.”
I looked behind me, past my hair to see his face as he reminisced. While I probably looked half-wild, his own hair, long and obsidian, kept a kind of dignity about itself. Very little broke from its neatly set place and whipped about his neck and face.
When he looked down at me, I smiled. His own smile grew a little too. We enjoyed each other’s company a while, between the sun and the shade. A short time when I was not a servant and he was not a lord. We were simply friends. Absent minded, I hummed, stopping when I remembered myself.
“Why did you stop in the middle of the tune?”
I felt embarrassed, shrugging my shoulders. “I missed a part.”
Quiet.
“I liked it anyway,” said Lord Kwan. Whether or not he meant it didn’t matter. It was the effort to comfort that restored my feeling of content.
Building up my courage, I started again, trying to get every note perfect.
“Relax, Hisa. It’s just us.”
I paused again, shying for a moment at the softness of his voice, and went on at my own pace. When I realized I missed a part of the melody, I redid it and continued after. Far from perfect, but an expression of how I felt.
We slowed, allowing the swing to stop at its own leisure. He stepped down with dignity, I hopped off without thought, and we walked back.
Along the way, I did a double take at something very unusual. Some ambitious creature had dug a wide hole, abandoning it to leave a mess.
“Hisa?”
I turned my head, seeing how far I’d fallen behind and catching up. It was probably nothing. Anything dangerous would’ve been noticed by a Juneun.
In our walking, as I relived recent events, a new question came. I hadn’t asked my daily allowance since Lord Kwan left. “My lord?”
“Hm?”
“Why did you put up the swing?”
He looked over his shoulder, past his glossy hair, slowing his stride but never stopping. “I thought you might enjoy it.”
“I do,” I said. “But, why?”
He looked away, to the path ahead.
I was determined. We were just friends here, alone and away from the house. “I’ve been wondering why you do these things, since everyone else thinks it’s unusual.”
“Never mind what everyone else thinks.”
“But I want to know the reason why, my lord. Not that I’m ungrateful—it means the world that I’ve learned so much. I just don’t understand why you go out of your way.”
“Did you not for your brother?”
“I did. But that was my brother, and I was terrified and desperate. You don’t have any reason to be terrified or desperate about anything.”
He stopped, abrupt, and I nearly walked into him. A swift turn, a severe look, and I felt I’d overstepped (though I didn’t see how).
“That’s your misguided faith in me,” said Lord Kwan. “When... The night you stayed locked with me, I was in the same state as you. Terrified of myself. What I might have done to an innocent, or to someone I cared for. Desperate to get home where I could exhaust myself and end the nightmare. There were seconds when I regained myself, and saw you. I was horrified in thinking there was even the slightest chance I’d break free and that side of me would tear you apart.”
I stared into his eyes, seeing a genuine fear I couldn’t recall ever seeing before. “I know,” I said. “But that’s why I came out of my hiding and stayed with you. I was scared of you that night. But I thought, how much more frightened would I be if it was happening to me.”
We held our gaze, sharing a new understanding of each other.
“You were kinder to me at my worst, than I was to you when you arrived. I’m ashamed to remember how cold I treated you.” He sighed, looking away.
“I’ve already forgiven you,” I said. “I’m not permitting you to act that way again. It’s just that, I now see you had so much weight on your shoulders, and I complicated things.”
He looked back at me, brow bent and soft smile returning. “Every time you pull me out of that darkness, I feel that I owe you.”
I shook my head. “You protect the villages around the mountain, and none of us even know who you are really. And even if you won’t say it, I know it was you who cured my village of the pox. There’s nothing owed.” I took his hand, firm for comfort.
He grunted, light and unbothered. “The duties of a Juneun. I don’t see that as the same.”
“Maybe not. I think I see them equally, though.”
His hand gave a gentle squeeze to mine. “Were it completely up to me, I’d set you free now. I’m bound by oaths place among my station to see through any sentencing unless new evidence is brought to change the circumstance.”
I didn’t fully comprehend, but I thought of some way to ease the burden of his heart. “That’s alright. I’d be less trusting of a Juneun or a lord who changed their mind on a whim.”
****
It rained the afternoon of Lord Kwan’s return. And the following day. I started to worry the ground wouldn’t be solid enough for our trek to the groves. Thankfully, my silent prayers and hopes were answered as the deluge stopped soon after.
Anxious, I was up early that day. Dressed to ride, and waiting, fidgeting, too much to bide out the time with practicing drawing or writing, I took out the puzzle box. The bead inside always calmed me, centered me. It seemed sleeping, living, every time I opened the box, and gently waking at my touch.
The sound of footsteps, bringing breakfast, stole my peace. In a frantic motion, I put the glowing bead back and scrambled up the riddle before hiding it back under my stationery.
I was eager to be at the stables, arriving there early and watching as the stablemaster tacked up the horses. An arduous process, but I tried to learn through observation and not bother him. At times, it seemed a feat of strength to fit the belts snug on the animal and keep the saddle from sliding. Through it all, every horse stood patiently.
“You will ride Susa today,” said Lord Kwan. The escorting guards taking their own mounts, and Syaoran with his preferred horse, Saburo neighed. “She will be fine on Susa. Did you not say yourself that she was competent?”
Saburo pinned his ears a moment, nickering. Try as I might, I couldn’t guess at the other half of the conversation.
“I think I am no longer your favorite, Saburo,” said Lord Kwan, teasing.
In response, Saburo’s ears perked back up and his tail swished. A snort was given, and the shake of his neck.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured. “But thank you, Saburo. You’re a good friend.”
The stallion dropped his head, picking it back up as he pawed the ground.
“He’s very fond of you,” said Lord Kwan.
“I am too,” I said. “Of him, I mean. He’s the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh? Maybe that is why he is so fond. Spoiled by compliments and the attention of a young woman.”
I smiled and shrugged, approaching Susa delicately as Gi helped me up to the saddle. It felt weird. I’d grown used to how Saburo moved and carried us. Somehow, it was different on Susa. Not completely alien, but something in the line of having to adjust and understand her.
Saburo nickered at Susa as Lord Kwan mounted. Susa, in response, swiveled her ears and swished her tail.
“I have every faith that Susa will take care with Hisa in the saddle,” cooed Lord Kwan, patting the stallion’s neck.
I wished then that I could understand, and say something to give comfort to my friend.
The trek up was muggy, long, and disconcerting at times. I was still sore at the end, unaccustomed to riding for so long. And I wasn’t any good at pretending otherwise. Before settling in for lunch, Lord Kwan used his healing magic on me.
No one seemed bothered by it. And it wasn’t until setting up the picknick that I realized I was the only girl. I had no one to turn to for cues if some awkward situation came up, making me disquiet. Though it went unnoticed as we shared in dumplings stuffed with cooked duck and sekihan rice balls seasoned with ginger. A plum wine was passed around, tart in its taste, which Syaoran complained was because it was too young of a wine. Several salacious comments were made after his grumbling, all of which I stayed out of.
Both Lord Kwan and I reached for the last baozi dumpling, the knuckles of our fingers colliding. We locked eyes after, brows bent and insisting the other take it. He did take it, carefully tearing it in two and giving me the bigger half.
I realized in the last bites that I’d been over ambitious in my hunger. With my stomach feeling as though it’d burst, I started to doze off. Between that, the warm sun, the cool breeze, the soft grass, and the quiet of the scenery, it was difficult not to nod off. I found myself yawning, and pinching my arms to combat the sleepiness. It wasn’t working as well as I’d hoped. I didn’t doze off for long, not by the angle of the sun.
Syaoran shook me, the picknick already tidied up, and we walked to the grove with baskets in hand. Rather than eat a peach when the guardsmen took the full cargo back, I held it to admire. The colors, the softness of the skin, and the smell of it. I kept it in hand as we went further into the mountain, to where the stone tiger stood on its dais.
I still needed a bit of support when crossing the uneven ground, but handled it better now that I knew what to expect. The kudzu remained, looking thicker and wilder than I remembered. After a year, it continued to resist Syaoran’s magic. Like before, we’d have to cross the top of it or wade through. And, like before, Lord Kwan carried me over. I still felt embarrassed, though to a lesser extent. We were friends now, good friends, and the awkwardness of it wasn’t half as intense.
The same ceremony was carried out, and a one-sided conversation that was almost as disagreeable as before ensued. During which, I noticed the end of a reptilian tail and the corner hem of beautiful silk. I said nothing. If she was hiding, then she clearly wasn’t ready for any of us.
Instead, I waited until the ritual of it all ended, staying still as Lord Kwan and Syaoran walked back with some conversation. Their backs turned, I hurried to the other side of the large, stone dais. Feng looked startled to see me, but I kept quiet, handing her the peach I’d saved.
“You really love him, don’t you?” I whispered.
She looked between me and the fruit in her hands.
I wrapped my arms around her. “Then don’t give up.” I released her quickly, joining the others before any questions were raised.
****
Saddled and ready to head back down the mountain, Lord Kwan delayed, staring back at the lake.
“My lord?” asked Gi.
He turned his gaze, the hint of a smile on his face and the ends of his unbound hair catching the breeze. “Syaoran will lead you down. I will stay a while longer.”
A curious look spread through the men, brows quirked. Mine too, though to a lesser degree.
“Care to join me, Hisa? Or are you eager to go back?”
I looked between him and the path back to the estate. “For a while, I suppose. There’s still plenty of daylight left.”
“Are you sure?” whispered Gi. “It might be a long ride.”
“I can manage, I think,” I said, giving a smile to reassure him.
Reluctant, they carried on, leaving me and Susa alone with Lord Kwan and Saburo.
We rode at leisure, until a wide meadow lay before us. Lord Kwan cued Saburo to pick up pace into a trot. I cued Susa to do the same to keep up. They went a little faster, and so did we, until I realized it was a silent challenge. His soft smile and knowing look goading me to push myself. And, keen to rise to the occasion, I kicked my heel into the side of my mare and cued her to canter. We passed them, a steady speed putting some distance between riders.
I could hear Saburo snort, picking up speed to catch up to us. As they did, Lord Kwan reached out, touching my upper arm before breaking off from beside me. A game, I realized. I held fast with my legs, pressing in my heels and giving more of the reins to Susa. We went faster, giving chase. I came close to touching him a few times, but always I worried about losing my balance. When I did finally touch back, I suspected he let me, or maybe Saburo did.
He pursued as we broke away in the game. I aimed for a copse of trees, planning to make the chase more difficult in weaving through before turning around. I’d need to slow a little, but I felt confident in the idea while the thrill coursed through my body.
It worked. They got close at times, but I was able to keep just enough space in the new terrain to stay in the lead. The ground began to slope, forcing me to pick a spot to run round and head back for the meadow.
I should have chosen better. Smooth rock lay hidden beneath the foliage, angled steep a short distance from a drop off some ten feet or so. Susa slipped, throwing me from her back. I landed hard on the ground, the momentum sending me into a tumble.
My worst fear came to fruition.
“Hisa!”