| |
His brothers left the morning after the ride up the mountain.
When you leave for home, I’ll have to invent new ways of coming here. Where I can be without other matters vying for my attention, or pressured to return.
It’d been weeks since he’d said it, summer now ending. In less than two years, it’d be true. The thought kept distracting him, well into the night. Mokryon was a half year away, yet preparations needed to begin and missives sent before the snows came to slow everything. Tax and tribute needed collecting, payments needed distributing, reports on the welfare of his lands—it all piled up.
He’d been too ambitious in agreeing to court, and too lax in the half century prior. So much so, that he’d forgotten the nightmare that it was. Likewise, it’d been even longer since he’d brought a household as a guest. It was easier to go alone, and made for a show of strength.
With the belief that Gumiho died, the display wasn’t needed. He still fretted. What was she up to? The last assault razed her army—no Kurai, sensible or not, would ally with her—or did it only appear that way? Between silky words, vexing beauty, and potent essence, she’d amassed a militia loyal to her; fox magic to that degree could easily manipulate an incautious mind to mistake illusions for something whole.
She’d noticed a waning in protection since the death of the doe, and her trespass could’ve spelled his death. Why hadn’t she? For sheer sport?
Before, he went out of his way to sift her out or lure her in. Doing so again was reckless, pointless even.
Focus.
He already decided to accept whatever awaits, and temper himself with the result. There was his master’s hosting to consider, to look forward to.
While he explained it to Hisa, Kwan still worried she couldn’t fully grasp it. She would be his attendant, yes, but also a guest of Genji. There was the rest of his house to consider, and who else to bring.
Hisa’s head bobbed, fighting sleep and reminding him of the hour. “You should go to your room, and rest.”
“I can stay a while longer if you need me to.”
“I plan to turn in after this last missive,” said Kwan, cooing. His ink brush dried with how distracted he’d been. It was all he could think to convince her to take his dismissal.
Vigilant, despite the long spells of silence and boring subject matter. He would miss her. And the thought brought an ache. There was the cuteness of her getting flustered, amplified more when it was matters in the kitchen and something had made a mess of her clothes, face, and hair. She was more a magpie than a hare in those instances.
More, when her imagination did get the better of her and give her an idea, the oversimplicity of it held charm. She’d taken a tea bowl a few days ago, filling it with peach nectar and waiting patiently beside the swing. When asked what she was doing, she merely replied that she was trying to tame them. The butterflies. A fool’s effort, but one he indulged, and sat beside her. If they were tame, she’d said, they’d come close and hold still longer to draw.
Always, compassion was her most prominent feature. He’d caught her on several occasions helping some small thing, victim to hubris. A spider, about to be swatted, was rescued with a vase and page of drawing paper, released to the garden far from the house. In another instance, she patiently untangled a mantis from the silk of an abandoned web, ignoring that it battled against her effort. Any moth or bee trapped in a fountain was scooped out by her. And despite her fear of snakes, she’d trapped one in a jug to take away from the chickens and release outside the wall.
Though the most fascinating was how she supposed she could train Koji to hunt without knowing how to properly do it. In showing her, she hung on his every word. And when things didn’t go as intended, she grew frustrated with herself rather than her pet or her teacher. There was never an excuse made on her part.
He would miss these odd little diversions. He would miss her. From each huff to every laugh, he would miss her.
She’d forgiven his coldness on her arrival, though the memory haunted him with a sense of shame. In any instance that she hid away in the kennels or stable, he felt that he’d somehow failed her, knowing full well that wasn’t true.
What was it about this odd village girl, a human, that he found such fellow feeling?
One of his staff claimed to have sprained her wrist, and it was Hisa who took up her chores without prompting, and checked in. Not a complaint was muttered from the human.
There was all winter before Mokryon. And he’d sent out his request, receiving several answers. Someone to teach her better than he might be able to explain. Of the options, Kwan tried to think of who would be kindest. The obvious choice was from the humblest family. Though, they had a reputation of reckless ambition. The most noteworthy family might see themselves too highly.
Sight bleary, and head aching, he decided to leave the matter for tomorrow and take Syaoran into council in place of Yua.
Yua.
How was she? Had grief consumed her? Had she accepted it? It was too intrusive to write. He’d known it was wrong to prompt Eumeh into marriage so quick after Borsi. There was nothing he could do on that matter. A mutual romance, kept apart by circumstance and kin, only for a tragic end. A princess, and the lowest daughter of a lesser lord. Were they so different?
Questions for another time.
He disrobed, settling into his bed, and blew out the last candle.
****
Morning brought progress, slow as it was. Syaoran gave his opinion, though he was no substitute for Yua. They didn’t know the applicants as well as she might, and would need to hope for the best with a guess.
“Syaoran,” said Kwan. “Keep a pair of horses ready to leave. When Juro comes, I want you to take Hisa from here for a few days.”
“Meddling again, my lord?” teased Syaoran.
“She’s expressed her discomfort. Juro ignores it. And she’s not in a position to be blunt.”
Syaoran worked his jaw, considering. “Why me?”
“Is there anyone else I can trust? You did spend several days before looking after her, if I recall.”
“That’s an odd way of phrasing it. Trusting someone with Hisa. Does Lord Kwan think someone will harm or abandon his favorite servant?”
Kwan stopped in the midst of a brushstroke, ink slowly bleeding onto the paper. His heart took a sudden, hard beat, birthing a rage that died in the same instant.
“Or, is the master in love with his human girl?”
In controlled movements, Kwan raised his gaze to his fox friend, watching Syaoran’s ears fall flat and his brow bunch.
“Forgive me. It’s the plum wine, my lord. We’ve been at this since morning and it’s after lunch.”
Kwan stared, a slow and wordless blink as he studied Syaoran’s posture.
“I may need a walk, clear out my head, my lord.” He stood, giving a deep bow.
“Syaoran,” called Kwan, stopping him at the door. “Have horses ready. And keep Hisa safe.”
Syaoran turned back, blinking, and gave a guilty look. “Yes, Lord Kwan.”
It was a still a while after the door closed before Kwan looked at the ink blot. Sighing, he set down the brush, crumpling the paper to burn in his hand. He’d need to start over on that one.
Too much required his attention. Yet, Syaoran’s teasing distracted him more than it ought to. His favoritism didn’t go without warrant—the same as when Syaoran and Yua had come into his service. How was this any different? Rumors had spread about him when Yua came into his house, and a few with Syaoran.
With or without the fox’s jibe, gossip would spread, and likely would amplify when he brings her to Tetsuden Castle. He decided then to bring Syaoran as well for punishment, and to observe the evolution of the rumors. Though, that left the matter of his house. Lin proved capable and fierce, but had someone more experienced in tandem. Could she handle the pressure, and keep order? The temptation of trying undermine her by her sex would still linger, even if it didn’t present so potently now.
He shook away the roaming thoughts, returning his attention to the task of narrowing down the applicants. At least to a manageable number where he could send for them and pick one in person.
Minutes after he’d finished, a servant knocked and announced themselves, carrying parcels. Maybe he did spoil her. As he had with every favorite servant since he was a boy. It was the way of things. Rewarding their attentiveness. This was no different.
“Is the courier still here?” Before he finished his words, his brush went to work. Syaoran would need something as well, befitting his position.
“Yes, my lord. He brought quiet the delivery.”
Kwan tied off the letter in simple twine, handing it to his manservant and dismissing him promptly.
****
A week after Syaoran’s teasing, and it still bothered him. Six girls stood in the courtyard, each dressed the best their families could afford, keen to impress the summons of a high lord and earn the position.
“And your name?”
“Niwa, my lord. It means garden.”
He didn’t ask the meaning, though it would help to speed things along.
“So, it does,” said Kwan, mulling it over. It would sound auspicious, a garden for his magpie. No, not his. And the musing wouldn’t guarantee sincerity in practice. “And yours?”
“Sujo, my lord. I don’t know that my name has any deep meaning behind it.”
Kwan stared from his shaded place on the veranda, Hisa’s voice echoing as she called for Koji. “It might be bad luck to choose someone whose name has no meaning.”
“But I am competent, my lord! I served as Lady Toyo’s personal attendant for forty-three years. But... her new husband insisted on a fresh staff.”
“I see.” His eyes moved to the next girl. Round in the face, though with pretty blue eyes and a pair of brown cat ears.
“Tsuya, my lord. I believe you are a friend of my cousin, Lord Urekkato, the new prince.”
“A cousin?”
“Distantly related, my lord,” said Tsuya, the pride in her tone fast fading.
“Why do you not serve in his house?”
“I... made myself foolish in front of him, my lord. Ten years to the day as of yesterday.”
A name that meant beauty, though Hisa was already a handful in her common upbringing. He needed someone level minded and tempered, and foolish usually involved gossip and haughtiness.
His gaze moved to the next.
She seemed late to realize his expectation, unnerved, no doubt. “Uno, my lord. It means—”
“Rabbit,” said Kwan.
She nodded.
“Your sister is not with you?”
Uno fidgeted. “Mata was more afraid than I to come, my lord.”
“Why is that?”
“We—um, it’s,” she rolled her bottom lip into her mouth. “It’s always been the two of us, my lord. All we had were brothers. And all but one died in battle. She was afraid of your fierce reputation, and being away from the only family we have left.”
“But you were not so afraid?”
“I admit that I am, my lord.” She kept the gaze of her cattish, orange-brown eyes down more often than she looked up at him.
Kwan considered. She’d certainly have a lot in common with Hisa, and could better sympathize. But her lack of experience and nervous manner would only serve as a hinderance.
“Toku, my lord,” answered the next girl when his eye went to her. “It means virtue. So, you’ll not need to worry about the safety and preciousness of the lady.”
“I did not know I needed to worry on that account,” said Kwan.
Toku’s beaming expression faded, her eyes looking about in sync with her thoughts.
Kwan looked to the last girl.
“Iseko, my lord.” She spoke confidently, and smiled, despite being the youngest. It was a show to gain favor, commonly done to make up for any shortcomings. “For where the river meets the sea. It’s good luck to have a water name in a house, so that it won’t burn down.”
Rehearsed lines.
He went through more questions, silently narrowing his choice in the assessment. An idea came when Syaoran approached, giving a curious look over them. They were all well aware that he kept a fox spirit in his household; but it was one thing to be aware and another to confront. Asking Syaoran’s opinion, he watched for any body language cues from the women. Hostility to an established member, and a spirit, would naturally lead upset in learning they were to wait on a human.
Uno and Tsuya locked eyes with him, seeming bewitched. Iseko squirmed. And the others kept as straight as their experience allowed.
His friend, on the other hand, appeared distracted by them, stumbling over responses. All of it was interrupted at Juro’s sudden arrival. While Kwan thought his toadish friend might arrive early, this was ludicrously soon. His eyes went to Syaoran, a silent cue for the fox to dismiss himself and carryout his order.
Still, concern filled Kwan’s gut. He’d expected some notice before Juro’s arrival, allowing time for Syaoran to abscond with Hisa. It would be a little more difficult now, but not at all impossible. So why did he feel so much dread? About the escape, and about their being away?
“Juro, you’re just in time my friend,” called Kwan.
“I see that,” said Juro, a lust in his gaze. “What is this business about?”
“Selecting a personal attendant for a special guest.”
Intrigued, he dismounted from his horse, giving instruction to the staff rushing to meeting him.
“My household will see to your things,” said Kwan, calm but trying to coax his friend away. “I’ll have your usual room prepared. Come, help me in deciding.”
“An important matter, is it?” said Juro, walking to join Kwan on the veranda.
****
Time drew out, eventually moving the lot to wait on Kwan and Juro personally. A test, he excused. At least, keeping Juro in his room, spacious enough for the ceremony of things, he could while out the time and allow for Syaroan and Hisa to flee. During which, the thought distracted him, and Juro’s conversation demanded the rest of his attention. He forgot more often than not to consider the actions of each girl.
“Of course, I would pick on the natural perfume more,” said Juro. “But since they are a lovely lot, maybe it’s best to choose by who they will be attending.”
“A lady,” said Kwan.
“A lady. And someone important to Lord Kwan.”
Kwan said nothing, sipping at the tea and letting Juro’s mind make conclusions.
“What is the occasion?”
“Mokryon.”
“Ah, I see. That does narrow things down. I’m guessing it’s your sister. Now that Gumiho is dead, she’ll be allowed to attend such events again. Or, is it one of your nieces?”
“It will be her first attending,” said Kwan, aiming to distract. “Of many, I hope.”
“May we all! But, as you know, I will soon be going with Hisa as my wife if it satisfies her.”
Kwan stared, his stomach tightening for a mere moment as he took his time in responding. “And if it does not?”
“It will be different when she is a guest and not a servant,” insisted Juro, waving off any other possibility as he drank from his cup.
“That’s true. It will be different for her,” said Kwan. “What if she doesn’t like going?”
“Of course she will like it! And, if she doesn’t, then I will only bring her to one or two events per year, and allow her to stay home the rest of the time while I attend. I may still be in search of a mistress then.”
Kwan listened, watching Juro behave so assuredly. It shouldn’t have bothered him. It never had before. But it did now.
“Speaking of which, I should see to my beloved,” said Juro, standing. “I have brought her the polished breath of fire, and had it fashioned into beads to make for a lovely bracelet. She’s sent me a list, you see, to win her heart. If I can present her with the answer to every riddle.”
“I admire your fortitude,” said Kwan. “But Hisa is not here.”
Juro quirked a brow, his smile fast forming a frown. “She is your ward two years more, no?”
“Yes,” said Kwan. “But she is away. I sent her to gather ingredients.”
“Ingr—? For what? What could you need that could not have been brought to you and stored away?”
“I thought her Lord Juro should taste her cooking, and prepare a few favorite meals from her village to sample. Naturally, I wouldn’t have every wild thing. Particularly if it is a seasonal ingredient.”
“But it is getting late, as you can see. And, surely, she will return soon.”
“I think not. I’d instructed that she take as much time as needed to make certain she had everything. It could be a few days.”
“Days‽”
“We did not expect your arrival for another two weeks. I’d sent her only this morning. Less than an hour before your sudden arrival.”
That seemed to do the trick. Juro grumbled and complained; though being told that she would want to surprise him, and that he should arrive timely next year to receive it, convinced him to stay in the villa, and only for as long as he originally planned.
The girls were dismissed the following morning. One, however, stayed behind. Not from Kwan’s choice. She plead to be chosen, a desperation in her voice.
It came to a halt when a guard knocked on his door, urgent by the sound. The man couldn’t have known that Kwan was well aware of Hisa having gone missing. He answered his guard in his typical casual manner. What was troubling was how he came to the news: Susa was in the stable, with the stable master answering to Juro on inquiry. The horse had run home without her rider.
Syaoran was perfectly capable, but alarm still coursed through Kwan’s insides. He inhaled deep, slow to release. “Assemble a search party. Do not involve Lord Juro, lest he lose his way on the mountain.”
She wouldn’t be in actual danger. Whatever happened, Syaoran and Hisa were close—he would keep her safe. And that bothered him as well.
An urge prodded at him to leave, or to use his sight if only to ensure nothing tragic had happened. An instinct that was difficult to resist.