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Summer, and guests already began to arrive for court. Several guard houses along the outer wall had been converted into small apartments; rooms for visiting Juneun to retire to. This year would be better accommodated. I’d wondered why there hadn’t been this sort of thing available before, until I was reminded that Gumiho was once a threat in these parts, and Lord Kwan didn’t hold court unless made to.
She was really gone. It felt strange to think about. So many stories told of her terrible deeds. Now they were just that: stories.
Juro was among the first to arrive. Lord Kwan had granted me permission before hand to keep Koji in my room during the night to help deter unwanted visits. I was walking him to my room that night when I heard Feng arguing. Having taken the long route to let him get some energy out, we walked the gardens outside of Lord Kwan’s room.
“...But a servant girl is invited into your room? You sent for me. And you won’t make any announcement of our engagement? Do you expect me to pine after you for centuries more until you can make up your mind?”
I didn’t know what the argument was about, except that it sounded like Lord Kwan was not intended to become Feng’s groom. Through winter and spring, I was so sure that was it. After all, he did ask her to come to the villa and made a room ready for her to stay a long while. It made sense that marrying her was his plan. Regardless, I didn’t want to get caught up, or give Urekkato the chance to look through my eyes and tease my friends. So, I hurried on.
“What I expect,” said Lord Kwan. Though, I tried not to listen in. “Is that you will put your affections towards someone who will receive them. In trying to shame me for your own feelings, you are wasting your breath.”
“But why? What aren’t you telling me?”
Poor Feng.
Though, I didn’t have time to pity her as Koji broke through his leash. I called after him, unable to run in my courtly dress. Strangely, I couldn’t recall seeing it was that fragile. A little tattered, since he did chew it, but not so much that it should snap.
I did find him. Juro held what remained of his leash just outside of the door to his room. Dread filled me. Court hadn’t quite started yet, and already I’d put myself alone with him. I made my apologies as I went to collect my dog, with Juro giving reassurances but holding fast to Koji’s leash.
“I did think of that,” said Juro. “I couldn’t quite understand in your letter what you wanted me to bring, though I suspect you meant acts of service to prove my love.” He opened his door, leading Koji in, though he complained about being brought into a strange room. “Come, Hisa.”
“Lor—Juro, it’s not appropriate. Lord Kwan will get mad at me.” I spoke like the other women, putting to use everything I’d learned the best that I could.
“We will leave the door open,” said Juro. “So that it will be seen more innocently.”
I tried to think my way out, to use what little I knew about Juneun society against his insistence. But as I noted the start of agitation on his face, I stepped in, my arms retreated as though they could somehow hide me.
He smiled, and fetched a thickly woven leash to replace the one I’d made. “This will be a little more secure. Can’t have him running off to a guest who’s unfamiliar with him.” Only then did he hand over Koji to me.
“That was thoughtful, Juro,” I said, quiet in my anxiousness. I still hated addressing him informally, feeling made to accept his advance. I turned to leave, stopped when he took my hand.
He breathed in my scent, and I shuddered. “Little more than two years now. And I will be free to formally propose. And you to accept.”
I wanted to scold him, to refuse him outright. But I was in a dangerous spot, fearing his ire. “But, suppose your affection turns to a lady of the court? Someone who could spend an eternity of love with you?”
“Don’t despair,” said Juro. “It’s doubtful I would find one with a scent even half as comparable.”
“But if there is,” I argued, quiet and desperate. “She would already be accustomed to the way of things. To wearing lovely clothes and jewelry. And if you want children... I don’t know that a human could give you one, let alone more.”
“Is that your concern? That you would be unable to repay my gifts?”
“Your gifts are too much, my l—Juro.” He came a little closer, and I worried for a moment I’d provoked him.
“I will send more. So that you are used to them.”
As usual, what I said went largely ignored. His other arm came around, holding a pendant. Opaque, cloudy white that seemed to hold a false glow of blue and purple and hint of yellow. A dream world trapped within it. And cut to the shape of a flower I was unfamiliar with.
“Moonstone,” said Juro, soft.
My ears heated, no longer distracted by the beauty of the stone. It was the answer to the riddle I’d originally written.
“It’s also called the lover’s stone.” He placed it beneath the wraps of fabric that held me straight. To keep myself from lashing with anger, I held still. “For love, fertility, sensuality—”
“Juro!” my scold came out as a whisper, shocked by the forward implication. He pulled me against him, breathing in my smell, and I fought to keep from shuddering.
“—and protection.” He hadn’t noticed my quiet outburst, or otherwise ignored it. “I put a blessing on it for you.”
“A blessing?” I mentally scolded myself for letting the words fall out. I didn’t want to know. I wanted to be rid of it.
“To protect you. I won’t have another incident like your master’s brother happen to my bride.”
My eyes kept looking to the open door. “Urekkato told you to bring that, didn’t he?”
Juro stayed quiet. His rhythmic breaths changed pace.
“And he sent you before. That’s why you left the wedding celebrations early.”
“A powerful friend.”
“He’s not. He’s toying with us. If you knew the letters he’s sent me—” I stopped, my mind quickly putting together a plan.
“Letters?”
“A lord tried to assault me. And Urekkato said I ought to have let him. That I ought to have been honored. I was so disgusted, Juro.”
I could feel his breath intensifying, an anger attiring.
“Is that all I am? Some game to be passed around and have rumors made about me? I’m a person. And none of the high lords see me that way. Not even your powerful friend, a prince.”
His hold on me tightened, becoming gentle only after I’d winced and made a hushed complaint of pain.
Koji barked, breaking the thick tension smothering us.
“I have to go,” I whispered, feigning hurt feelings.
“Keep my pendant with you,” said Juro. “And the hairpin I gave on my last visit.”
My mind hurried for some way out of his request. “I’ll be out of uniform from the other women. Lord Kwan wouldn’t allow it.” And I didn’t want him to. I didn’t want to parade around his gifts, to showcase I’d been marked as his territory.
“Hisa,” he took my chin, turning it up to face him. “For me.”
Before I could object, his lips were on me. An attempt at tenderness, though I felt sick. I pulled away the first chance I got. “I have to go.”
I left as quickly as my dress would allow, Koji beside me.
Now what? How was I going to get away with disregarding what Juro wanted without getting myself into trouble? I’d already been unable to stay far from him.
****
In the following morning, with no excuse yet, I placed in the hairpin. Though, I hid away the pendent. Unlike last year, when staffing was short, every woman in the house stood an exact few steps behind Lord Kwan, and to the side in perfect display. As the guests who would stay in the house arrived, one of the women would escort them and return.
“Hisa,” beckoned Lord Kwan.
I walked to his side, obedient in spite of my discomfort and distraction. He looked me over, fixing his eyes to the delicate bun that claimed most of my hair, and the pin nestled in it. Some of my hair had been allowed to stay down and forward, half hiding my scars. I answered his wordless question in a whisper, explaining my mistake from the night before.
He blinked, slow, and composed himself. “That is a predicament.” For a long while, he said nothing more.
Another guest arrived with a small entourage of personal staff. Mei was instructed to escort him. Not yet dismissed, I stayed at Lord Kwan’s side.
“There’s a particular guest that has an interest in meeting you,” said Lord Kwan.
The words reminded me of how Syaoran described Juro, and my fingers began to fidget, pinching at the suffocating layers of my dress.
“When he arrives, escort him to Feng’s old room. She will not be joining court this time.”
I looked up at him, quizzical. Though, she did have a tendency to run off when she was upset, from what I recalled.
“He’s a gentle spirit,” continued Lord Kwan at his own pace. “And he hasn’t been in court almost for as long as I have.”
I tilted my head, questions washing over me, but it seemed too rude to ask any of them.
“He’s a shy spirit,” said Lord Kwan, perhaps having guessed at my expression. “And not one for the ceremony of things. I want you to tend to him.”
“His attendant, my lord?” my voice quivered as I asked, fearing for a moment that I’d be put into a compromising position. Though, with Lord Kwan, that didn’t match to what I knew of my friend.
“Not in that sense, no. I ask that you be attentive to him while he’s about in court. He’s often overlooked for how reserved he is.”
That beckoned more questions. I’d always seen Lord Kwan as someone very reserved, yet no one ignored him at all.
A man, taller than Lord Kwan approached the inner gate, a heavy sack slung over his shoulder, and his horse walking beside him. Long locks of brown hair stopped where his breast and shoulder blade ended, striking green eyes, and antlers that stuck out more to either side than they did upward or back. Unlike the other guests, dressed so elegantly to impress, he wore a simple hanbok set; something a man in the village might wear for a special occasion, but ordinary by compare to court. Even the coloring was subdued, in dull green and earthen tones.
I spent so long staring at the unusual sight that I failed to notice the two boys with him, neither older than myself by the look. Though, they lacked any trait resembling the man leading them. Likewise, they were not dressed to impress. No color coordinated uniform to indicate where they belonged. Their clothing was light and casual and perfect for warm, summer weather
“Lord Genji,” greeted Lord Kwan.
Genji returned the greeting, so quiet I almost didn’t hear him say anything at all. “My... horse lost a shoe.” He struggled to make eye contact, his head hanging low, as though it were all the energy he had to be here. “Didn’t seem right to keep riding after.”
“My stable master will see to it,” said Lord Kwan, cueing the boys to take the mare.
They may have looked humble in the way they dressed, but their manners remained perfect. A kind of discipline unmatched.
Genji’s eyes fell on me, curious, and a whiff of an inhale to confirm his inquiry.
“Hisa will escort you to your room. I’ll have Syaoran bring up your things.”
“There’s,” started Genji, “no need. For the extra trouble, Lord Kwan.” He shifted the sack to a more comfortable position, a silent demonstration of his capability and assurance.
I bowed, ignoring the continued stare from Genji as I led the way. He stayed quiet, until we were away from the commotion.
“You’re...”
I didn’t stop to look back.
“Human?”
“I am, my lord.”
He became wordless once more, seeming to consider. On the second floor, I presented his room to him, imitating what I’d seen another woman do, and bowed again.
“Would you stay a moment?” asked Genji, slow in his words. His shyness unmistakable in his tone and demeanor, I offered a look of apology. “I have... questions.”
“I’m not supposed to go into a guest’s room, even invited.”
He slid open the door, stepping inside. “It can stay open. There’s too many people coming and going.”
He was right, but I couldn’t shake off how similar it was to Juro’s proposition. Lord Kwan asked me to tend to him, though I didn’t know how far that extended or what to expect; I only knew he wouldn’t have asked me to do this if Genji was someone untrustworthy in certain regards. With a nod and bent brow, I followed.
He set his sack down in the far corner, asking me to sit at the small table provided. I wouldn’t be able to do so comfortably, but obliged anyway.
“You’re human?” asked Genji when taking a seat.
I nodded. “As I said, my lord.”
“Yes,” said Genji, hushed and in thought. “And you’re... how did you come here?”
“The stairs, my lord.”
He blinked, watching me through his perfect, shaggy hair, and grew a soft smile of amusement. “Into Kwan’s service?”
“A debt owed, my lord.” I tried to keep it vague without being dishonest.
“So, you... you’re... he’s... Lord Kwan is...” he seemed lost for words, eyes looking away and head lowering.
“He is a good master,” I said, hoping to detract from his stumble. “And a good friend.”
Genji looked at me, a gentleness in his eyes, kind and curious and shy. So green that it almost seemed as if the entirety of a forest stared back at me with interest. He appeared less like a lord and more like a strange boy, but I felt I’d found a kindred soul with him.
“My... My wife is—was. She was...” he hesitated. “She was like you.”
Was.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
He nodded. “I loved her for almost fifty-eight years. The other Juneun lords thought I’d lost my senses.”
I sat there in the silence that followed, trying to think of what to say or do. “What was she like?”
He gave a sheepish smile to me. “Her name was Isaden. And she was like the wind.”
I kept quiet, encouraging him with a smile of my own, and letting him continue at his own pace.
“She could never keep still. It made for an interesting marriage. And, she was bold. Finding beauty and pleasure in everything. Even in coming to court. The others... didn’t like when I brought her.”
“I think that’s their folly. She sounded like an interesting person.”
His smile grew, though his head tucked slightly into his shoulders. “I... haven’t come to court since... since she passed. As the last living member of the Elk Clan... I suppose it looked like I was throwing my family legacy away when I married Isa.”
Without thought, I took his hand. “Never mind what anyone else thinks. What good is a marriage if there wasn’t love in it?”
He became a little more confident, wrapping his long, squared fingers around mine. “That’s true.”
“Everyone says I’m foolish for wanting to marry only for love, even if he’s the poorest man in the world. But there seems to be so much unhappiness in trying to marry for riches, that I don’t think love is the foolish choice.”
He watched me as I spoke, a bright smile on my face, and a quieter version on his own. “I think... If I had had a daughter. I think she might have been like you.” My expression became quizzical, and he shied once more. “Isa and I never had children. We wanted, but... it was not fated to happen.”
I kept a firm hold on him, placing my other hand atop for added comfort in the new quiet. I tried to come up with something to say, something useful. That he’d have been a wonderful father, or something like it. But nothing felt right. So, we stayed in continued wordlessness, letting the stilled touch of hands speak for us.
When his own servants came, we let go, a quiet dismissal allowing me to leave.