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Urekkato made his happy announcement at the start of the first official banquet. The reason he’d come. Eumeh birthed a child in the winter—a princess, favoring her Cat heritage over the dragon line of the Mireu. Which also explained her absence.
Applause and congratulations were given as though some great achievement was made, rather than an expected inevitability.
Kwan excused himself early, leaving the hall and going out into the cold night air. He wandered, taking in the lantern displays and the warm glow as they hung from branches and ropes. It was only a matter of time before the space was once again filled with guests coming to awe at them. His brothers and sister included.
Genji’s own household worked meticulously to get the look of it all, tireless in the effort. Kwan wondered if they looked at their tasks with excitement, pride, or saw it merely as duty. No, not merely, but duty nonetheless.
Dutiful.
It finalized in his head that his feelings were misplaced. Comparing the concern she had for him when they’d fallen years prior, and the concern she had for Syaoran earlier that day, was there an obvious difference? Of course there was. As for what she said about the kind of man she could never love, he knew himself. A jealous hatred claimed his heart from the day of Jiana’s death, and he’d become callus in his pursuit. His arrogance had led to the tragedy.
Folly. To love a mortal. Then again, he hadn’t thought so when it was Genji’s relationship or Juro’s affection.
“I heard you brought the fox and the human,” said Sara.
Kwan stopped in his stride, putting little effort into acknowledging his sister.
“If father knew your choice beforehand, I might still be locked in our house.”
“Congratulations on your escape,” said Kwan, flat.
“As long as no one causes too much of a scene, I expect I’ll be allowed to court as well.”
Kwan said nothing, watching his sister’s even approach in her elegant attire; dressed according to her rank in society, and patterned by pink magnolias for the occasion.
“Seong escorted me,” continued Sara without prompting. “His eldest daughter will be attending these events soon enough.”
“The courts will be richer for it,” said Urekkato, sauntering up.
Both Sara and Kwan made their polite bow, acknowledging his station.
Urekkato smirked, allowing them up. “I suppose how soon she arrives depends on how good a chaperone he makes for you. And you’ve already wandered off alone.”
Sara soured her expression. “I am in the company of my brother.”
“You were. And in a few seconds, you will be alone. I have business to speak on with Kwan. You needn’t involve your sweet self.”
To that, Sara gave up all pretense of pleasantness.
“I advise you stay vigilant, Lady Sara. Lord Juro is newly available again, and Zhen is in search of a rich woman himself.”
“Arrogance,” spat Sara in a low mutter.
“What was that?” said Urekkato, a slyness painted on his face.
Sara merely bowed; more from obligation than respect.
Holding his smirk, Urekkato led on. “Come this way, Lord Kwan. I believe the lanterns by the lakes are better viewed in this direction.”
Reluctant, Kwan followed. As much as he’d look for a way to disengage with his sister, he resented being pulled away by an equally unwanted companion.
“You seem glum,” said Urekkato, amused. “Well, you’ve been glum the last century, but more so than usual.” He chuckled to himself.
Kwan watched from the corner of his eye, giving no reply.
“I suppose the events of the day dampened your mood.”
Continuing his silence, Kwan guessed at what Urekkato’s game was. He’d played both sides in the assembly—how he knew of it was another matter, since there was no question that he didn’t honestly stumble upon it. Then, to play informant to the duel taking place, and Hisa’s rush to intervein; if it’d been a secretive matter, he couldn’t happen to know any of it, yet informed with absolute surety.
“She slapped me this morning. Hisa, that is.”
That, Kwan couldn’t ignore, and gave his attention to the Cat prince as they walked.
“I assure you, I had it coming.”
“What was the provocation?”
Urekkato grinned. “Seeing how easily she could be seduced.”
It was an effort for Kwan to keep himself stone.
“Lord Genji requested her presence, and Lord Kwan is fond enough of her to bring her. Then there’s our former Kurai friends willing to shed blood over her. Such a fuss over a mere mortal. I thought she sported well enough to garner the attention.”
Kwan said nothing, letting Urekkato go on to expose himself.
“She’s gotten feistier since my last meeting her. I suppose it can’t be helped when living with a tiger. More so if she sports with one. I might visit her tonight while the fox is away.”
On impulse, and out of view, Kwan acted. His forearm against Urekkato’s chest, he pinned the prince to a stone retention wall. “I made you a prince. If you force your advance on any in my house, I will unmake you.”
Urekkato chuckled. “Would it be a force? She gave herself to the toad and the fox.”
Kwan didn’t relent, leaning into his hold. “I don’t care for insinuation.”
Urekkato grinned. “I’m beginning to think Lord Kwan is in love. Perhaps that accounts for his defense against Juro. But then, why prevent the sword from the fox?”
“Because a lesser man would allow it.” His word in, Kwan released the Cat prince.
“You follow Genji too closely,” said Urekkato, impulsively checking himself for any tenderness. “It does make sense for her though. Syaoran has a handsome face. And if the maids are to be believed, he’s a more versatile lover. That’s where the benefit ends, I’m afraid. She should’ve insisted Juro change his face to look more handsome, and enjoy the luxury of a higher status. It might not be long before she realizes her mistake.”
“Perhaps Prince Urekkato is in love,” said Kwan. “You seem well informed on her whereabouts and her intensions.”
Urekkato laughed. “It’s entertaining to watch her try and navigate the world. That’s where any interest ends. If she did want to be my mistress, I wouldn’t have her. It’d be less amusing. And she’s not a pretty thing to look at.”
“I hadn’t noticed,” said Kwan.
“It’s difficult not to notice,” said Urekkato.
Kwan restrained himself from saying anymore. If he were blind and she were beautiful, he’d love her. But he was not, nor was she, and he loved her. His feeling grew from the things unseen.
“She sent her things to Juro,” said Urekkato. “He won’t have anything to do with them. It’s quite some luck, don’t you think?”
“How so?”
“She won’t walk Tetsuden underdressed.”
****
They parted ways not long after, leaving Kwan to ponder while Urekkato took to the first dance of Mokryon.
He shouldn’t have bothered with dwelling on it at all. It was as good as decided. He’d reside in Tetsuden and appoint Syaoran as steward to Mount Tora. The house was modest and near enough to her family. She’d live just as well as a titled lady, and already had a love of looking after the area.
“The way everyone talked about Kwan’s human, I thought she’d be a little more to look at.”
A feminine voice broke him from his thoughts. He’d wound up back in the castle, his feet moving while his mind was absent. Stopping, he didn’t find the source; likely, from around one corner of the dim lit hall.
“You’d think a lord of his caliber would prefer a beauty for an attendant.”
“She’s not very tall or shapely either.”
“I heard she was having an affair with the Kurai guests.”
A pair of female serfs turned the corner, a candle in hand to better light their path, in time for Kwan to catch a grimace on both of them. He’d kept still, and they didn’t notice until it was too late to make the turn seem like a stumble. Now aghast, they stared at him.
Calm, he approached, watching the concern grow on their expressions. He stopped in front of them, deciding what to do. An idea came, inspired by Urekkato.
With swift momentum, he stole off the one carrying the candle. The nearest door flying open, he brought her in. It shut. Pinning her, seeing the surprise and the labored breath, he allowed her mind to piece things together and calm.
“I would prefer a beauty,” said Kwan.
His fingers pushed the stray hairs from her face, and he leaned in. Her body moved to accommodate him. Stopping short of her lips, he moved to whisper to her.
“It’s a shame there isn’t an enticing enough woman in Tetsuden.” At a casual pace, he let go and righted himself. His steps sounded in a leisurely rhythm, the door sliding open with a sigh to reveal the startled servant on the other side. He walked past, paying no mind.
Was vanity still the topmost piece of gossip?
Thinking back, he didn’t realize she was a girl on first meeting. Now, when better dressed and her hair grown out, she was easily seen as a woman. A little hare indeed.
Walking further, he intended to retire to his room, only to stop when he saw it lit and heard Hisa’s voice. No. He wasn’t ready yet.
Shifting his direction, he went to the courtyards, where bonfires and music and dances continued.
They more or less all looked the same. The ladies, their dresses, and the robed suitors partnering with them. Smiles and painted faces, jewels and gold shining against the flames, and rehearsed laughter. Did it never change?
“There you are!” called Towa, swatting his back. “You shut yourself away for so long, I started to think I wouldn’t recognize you.”
Kwan gave the start of a smile. “You haven’t changed.”
She spun, showing off the dazzling layers of purples and blues, lined in black. “Don’t you think?”
He kept his expression, resuming his watch on the dances. “Do you expect me to ask you?”
“To dance?” laughed Towa. “I never could manage it. Give me a sword, and I can match most in the arena. Give me a nice dress and a partner, and I may as well have been born a fish.”
He grunted his acknowledgement, saying nothing more.
“I met your human the other day.”
“Did you?” said Kwan after some time
“She’s a sweet thing. A little shy.”
“Overwhelmed, I expect. She’d never left her village until coming to my household.”
“That makes sense then. I thought she seemed more sincere with manners, if not a little clumsy.”
“You hold no issue?”
“Should I? Juro was looking for her that same day. Honestly, I was surprised to see him here, given his reputation.”
“He pursued her.”
Towa laughed. “He has odd taste, I’ll grant him that. How does she like him?”
“The feeling is not reciprocated.” Kwan folded his arms, putting off the women making wordless pleas for him to go to them.
“Hm. Even with all the benefit? It’s quite the leap from a common village girl to the Lady of Shigeru House. Have you counseled on it?”
Kwan watched a group of perturbed women, dissatisfied with standing without a partner for so long. “She’s old enough to know her own mind.”
Towa drew in a long breath. “My own family is determined to match me with Haru. He’s kindly enough, and his family name well rooted, but he’s also an idiot. I don’t know that I could love a stupid man, but I may not have much choice. His family’s wealth and lands are comparable to my family’s, so it’s not so far of a stretch. It’s the name that matters, and I’ll likely have no say unless I can humiliate him just enough to make refusal more enticing than saving face.”
“Calculated.”
Towa stretched. “Such is the life of a noble’s daughter. Except that most are more complacent than I’m willing to be.”
“Willing?”
“I don’t mind making compromises if, in the long run, it suited me.”
Kwan thought then to something said repeatedly: that she would only marry for love. As independent as Towa appeared, she played the same game as all ladies.
She wrapped her arm around his, leaning on him. “Come with me.”
Kwan ignored her.
“I know you find this as dull as I do,” whispered Towa. “Come with me. Like we used to do.”
Kwan inhaled deep, considering. He wanted for a distraction, but he wanted a temporary solitude. At the same time, he didn’t want to go back, to find her there—him there. Better, he thought, to allow them their victory and a secluded night.
He relented, allowing Towa to lead him away.
To the lakeside apartments, and into her room, he allowed her lead until a jealousy rose in him. In a slow passion of kisses, he embraced her, hands leisurely finding the ties of her dress and tugging them free.
She chuckled, expertly finding his own fastenings and undoing them. It wasn’t impatience, but convenience, allowing him to shoulder off his own clothing and reveal her in his own time.
He sat her on a counter, tossing aside her top layers with his own, and trailed his kisses behind her ear, down her neck, and to her collar. Her hands trailed up his arms, tracing over his muscles. Working his way down at his own pace, he sampled his lips against her breasts, letting his hands explore her taut sides and back. Then, he slid off her skirtings, parting her thighs to indulge, pulling her close for his reach. Her toes pawed at his hips, inching off what remained of his clothes.
In a fit of passion, he yanked her back to her feet, turning her to bend over and pin as he slid into her. She reached to hold him close in his rhythm, managing to only grab hair.
He was not her first lover, nor she his, and this was not their first intimate session. But those days were long ago, when he sought refuge from his frustrations, and she only to rebel against conformity.
In that regard, nothing had changed.