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Syaoran skulked in late into the night. I woke to the sound of the door slide open, quiet as it was compared to so much else. Groggy, my head turned just enough for my eyes to take blurry recognition before succumbing to sleep again.
In the morning, after attending Lord Kwan as usual, and still not fully awake, I entered into mindless inquiries.
“Where were you last night?”
“Lady Towa had me away,” said Syaoran, quick and irritated.
I tidied up the vanity in the room. “Had you away? For what?”
He tensed, needing to breath in deep to calm himself. “For favors. She had my head between her thighs until she was satisfied.”
I wasn’t naïve enough to not understand, especially not after Lin explained things to me and made me more aware. Stupidly, however, my mouth continued on, confused about Syaoran’s bitter tone. “You don’t like her?”
“It’s not about liking her!” snapped Syaoran. “It’s about not being free to refuse. No, I don’t like stuffing my face in a woman’s thighs. But it’s the fact that I’m pushed to either perform the favor or be punished with some conjured lie.”
Stiff from the shock of his volume, as well as the relay, I blinked. “But, you’re a man. And she’s... it still happens?”
He scoffed. “I’m a servant. If not for being able to throw Kwan’s name behind me as a shield, I’d be brutalized beyond more than—this.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, facing him and stopping my task to show every ounce of sincerity I had. “I didn’t know that could still happen. The talks amongst the women in Lord Kwan’s house, I thought it was something that only happened to a female servant. It never occurred to me that...” my words trailed, seeing his frustration. “I’m sorry.” I now felt a guilt for having pressured him into kissing me, and my anger at his teases for it lessened by more than half.
In realizing the conversation, I shut my eyes, counting. I didn’t want anything more, anything personal, to accidentally be shown, and scolded myself for not having done it sooner.
He shook his head. “It’s fine. Men tend to keep it to themselves. How would it make us sound? A woman forced herself onto me, and everyone else will say something like how tragic, or didn’t you enjoy it? The other end is, if something is said, there’s always the chance she’ll reverse it and claimed it was us who forced themselves on her.”
It all sounded awful. To be a victim, to not be believed, teased and harassed—even punished for it. My heart weighed heavy for him. “Syaoran. If I ever... If you felt like I... With the kiss—I’m sorry.”
He forced out a chuckle. “You acted out of desperation. I can forgive that. But if you still want more of me, remember to be gentle.”
“Syaoran!” I scolded. With a huff, I reeled my temper back. “Regardless, it shouldn’t have happened to you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t beside you to deter her.”
He scoffed, giving a forced smirk. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. Whether it was Towa or Zhen or Beom, it wouldn’t make a difference if you were locked on my arm or not.”
“Beom?” I repeated. “But... he’s also a man.”
“So is Zhen. What’s your point?” said Syaoran, continuing to put away our futons.
I stared, jaw dropped.
“At least Zhen has the good enough temper to allow an escape. He prefers when his boys come willingly.”
“Beom made you...”
Syaoran stopped completely, looking at me with sorrow. “It was back when I first came into Kwan’s service. And it’s not something I like to talk about. Ever.”
That explained it more. I’d always assumed Syaoran hid when Lord Kwan’s brothers visited because they hated fox spirits. Now, the desperation of it became clearer. My own horrible memories concerning Beom resurfaced. “Why is he so hateful?” I muttered.
“Who knows,” said Syaoran. “Who cares to know?”
“Did you say anything to Lord Kwan?”
“No. I never said anything. I shouldn’t have even told you about it at all.” He looked away, shaking with rage.
“Why? When I told him about Juro trying to—”
“Because it’s humiliating, Hisa!” yelled Syaoran. “I don’t want others to know. It’ll only encourage more harassment than I get now for being a fox spirit.”
I stayed in stunned silence. Gathering myself, I went to him, trying to lay an embrace for comfort. He pushed away. Not violently, but enough to reject the gesture. I settled for placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I just don’t understand why they would do that. You’re just as much as Juneun—”
He pulled from me. “Because we’re still servants, and that’s what they do.” He stood, pacing out his frustration. “If I was titled, like Juro, it’d be significantly less, and I could openly refuse any of it.”
I did wonder why Syaoran wasn’t titled; assuming it was some complicated social rule.
“Kwan did try,” said Syaoran. “He titled Juro, and granted lands. A couple others, but... Because Gumiho was...” He rested his face on the tips of his fingers on one hand, the other holding to his hip, letting out a rushed sigh. “It’ll take a while.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, heartbroken for him. “I’m still a stupid, village, human girl. I don’t understand all these things and why they’re needlessly complicated.”
“You’re not stupid,” said Syaoran, defeat in his tone. Dropping his arms, he dragged himself back to sit beside me. “Almost from the moment we met, you treated me as though I belonged in that house, without question.”
I shrugged. “To me, it seemed obvious. Besides, you were the only one who tried to look after me when I first arrived.”
He chortled. “Two outcasts. Kwan knows how to pick them.”
Softly, I bounced my side off of him. “I’m glad I met you, Syaoran. Even if you do frustrate me a lot.”
He chuckled. “I was going to say the same exact things, but I guess I should pick something different.”
To that, I laughed.
****
The days following in the near week-long celebration went by more peaceably than when it started. Still, I never journeyed too far from the castle, fearing I’d lose my way or get pulled aside by a guest too liberal with wine. How anyone could learn their way around, I didn’t know.
There was so much to do and see without the additional displays and kiosks. I’d learned that I could get one free treat from a cook stand simply for being part of Lord Kwan’s house. The former student of our host, and still in close friendship, created an eagerness to appease. Kiosks with wares outside of food, however, weren’t as relaxed with their policies. I was offered a discount, though I hadn’t the money anyway, so I simply admired and didn’t dare to touch any of the lovely things.
There’d come a day when Lord Kwan and Genji sat away from the events, engaged in a game of shogi. They’d invited me to play, but, in having never played before, I was content to watch them.
Wandering one of the water gardens, I almost lamented that we’d leave the day after tomorrow. It was the last day of Mokryon, and those in the castle were expected to stay one additional day to rest from the festivities.
Newly confident, I went to every dance in the nights following my first. Always, Lord Kwan would take at least one dance with me. Syaoran, of course, did likewise to continue our rouse—and I kept fiercely close to him when I could. Even Genji took my hand in two separate dances, though he didn’t speak at all in that time. I didn’t mind. It was better than when I was made to feel obliged to accepting Urekkato and try to keep stoic in all his talking.
Most days, I kept to Syaoran’s side for hours, trying to act as a deterrent for him. He grew tired of my company somewhere in the day, separating with the assurance that he’d be fine. Often, Lord Kwan would find me and occupy my company.
When alone and walking any part of the grounds, I reveled in the quiet and the far-off chatter. There’d be stretches of time where my footsteps were the loudest thing in the area. On hearing raised voices, and not wanting to accidentally involve myself, I started to walk back the way I came. Until I recognized one voice as Beom’s.
My curiosity caused me to stop. And while I knew it was for my own good to ignore it, I couldn’t, and crept to the source of the sound. There were other voices, familiar, though I couldn’t place how I knew them. Not until I heard Kwang’s, sounding in a hurry for something. Careful, I slid the paper-paned door open only a sliver, using the strength of my finger in as slow a motion as possible.
Lord Kwan, and all of his brothers were inside, as was another man, older, who I guessed to be his father. A young woman, whom Syaoran mentioned was Lord Kwan’s sister, sat poised to the side. It was a family assembly. And while I shouldn’t have spied, I couldn’t stop my curiosity in wanting to know what the other members to Lord Kwan’s immediate family were like.
Severe, at first glance.
“And you have the nerve to willfully ignore Iseul in favor of your servant,” lectured his father, seething.
“From the first day, she’s caused a fuss,” said Seong. “Involving the newly appointed prince, as well as our host.”
“I will mind my own house,” said Lord Kwan, disinterested in heated words. “As you undoubtedly mind yours, as well as others.”
“Insolence!” spat his father, pacing.
“When Kwan doesn’t parade himself with Kurai and humans, he’s taken in the company of the Samjo girl,” said Seong.
“It seems Kwan is more interested in making a mockery of our family than any duty to our traditions,” said Beom. “He keeps himself willfully ignorant of how this also affects prospects for our sister, only just returning to society.”
“You mistake me,” said Lord Kwan. “The decision to lock Sara away was not mine. And any mockery of our family comes from onlookers, not myself.”
His father struck at him then, and my hand gripped tight to the frame of the door.
Yuz and Kwang half rose from their seats, a gesture to plead leniency as they called for their father. For the small show that it was, I felt glad; not every member of Lord Kwan’s family was against him, even if they didn’t particularly like me or Syaoran.
“I will not suffer more of your arrogance!” roared his father.
Lord Kwan, opposite, kept himself restrained.
“If it is brought to me, by her family, you will marry Iseul,” said his father. “After giving Eumeh away, this is the best opportunity you have to maintain our position in society and erase the folly of your past.”
“If the arrangement is much desired, you have other sons,” said Lord Kwan. And his father struck at him again. Rather than retaliate, or show any hint of discomfort—though I knew it must’ve caused great pain—Lord Kwan stayed stony.
“Unlike my youngest sons, the eldest remember the point for coming to Mokryon,” said his father, a growl in his voice. “You’ve given away most of your lands to Kurai, abusing your position with titling them. Iseul’s dowry alone makes up for your lacking. And it will position us better to match Sara. But only so long as you stop fraternizing with servants and take your prospects seriously!”
“That’s what all this fuss is about?” asked Lord Kwan, sarcastic amusement in his voice.
“If you challenge this, boy, I will cut you from inheritance.”
“Cut it,” said Lord Kwan, quick to answer, and gaining a unanimous look of shock.
“You would disown your family?” asked Sara, speaking at last. “Are you so eager to create a greater rift between us—for Kwang will do the same, as always, when you behave heedlessly!”
Lord Kwan said nothing, eyes locked with his father’s.
I couldn’t understand it. Why a family would treat each other with such brutality, or pressure one member into marrying before he was ready—especially given they were seemingly immortal, and hardly affected by the passing of time. What I didn’t understand most of all was why Lord Kwan allowed himself to be beaten and berated. Why didn’t he fight back, or stand up for himself? He was one of the most powerful Juneun. Not a small and timid human.
When his father brough up that black bamboo rod again, my fury took over me, and I slid the door wide open without announcement or grace.
“That’s enough!” I commanded, feeling my face turn hot. “A family is supposed to look after one another, not be at each other’s throats.”
“Hisa,” warned Lord Kwan, low in his voice.
But I couldn’t stop myself, not by choice. Rage consumed me beyond the point of reason. “Lord Kwan has done nothing to deserve this. If anything, Lord Genji and Prince Urekkato both speak very highly of him and what he’s accomplished. They say nothing about the achievements of his brothers. I’d be surprised if the prince even remembered their names.”
Lord Kwan stood then, marching towards me and taking me away from the stunned and scowling faces. In his rough motion, I saw the marks of the bamboo rod displayed on him, and only felt more righteous in my defiance, even as I was dragged off.
Away, Lord Kwan pulled me into a storeroom, bearing a severe expression, and slammed the door closed.
“You should have kept out of it,” growled Lord Kwan.
“But, they were—”
“It’s not your place!” Again, he looked at me with a rage.
I stiffened, but my own fury prevented petrification. “I couldn’t just stand by like a scared mouse and let them do that to you!”
I saw him fight to retain himself, tempering his next words. “You don’t know what you’ve done.”
I held my gaze, realizing for the first time how heavy I was breathing. Silence. Both of us trying not to lash out at each other. “Why would you let them treat you like that?”
“He’s my lord father,” said Lord Kwan. “It’s the way things are.”
“That doesn’t make it right!” I argued. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Whatever happened before you came to Mount Tora, I know you’ve made up for it.”
“You know nothing.”
“I know that whatever it was, you would try to make things right. That’s who you are. You look after all of us. In the villages and your home and everywhere you go. Even the animals and the earth.”
He tempered himself more, heaving a sigh. “You cannot go bursting into a private meeting, regardless of the reason.”
“But—”
“Hisa! This isn’t a game.”
We leered at each other, and my bold impulse had me shove him. Or, I tried. He stayed unmoved, with only his expression becoming slightly bewildered by the intent.
“You always stand up for me. For all of us! And you won’t stand up for yourself?”
Lock jawed, he worked to loosen his muscles enough to answer. “They’re my family—”
“They’re bullies! And no matter who it is, don’t ask me to stand by and watch them hurt you. I won’t do it. Even if it was my own father and brothers, I won’t just sit there and let it happen!”
“Hisa, stop!”
I obeyed. Not out of fear, but from my own breathlessness.
“You have no idea what trouble you could’ve caused. Things are different here. And I’ve spoiled you too much for you to know that.” He looked down and away.
My heart dropped. “Of course I don’t know,” I whispered, still seething. “There’s a lot about the Juneun nobility I know nothing about. But, what I do know is that no one should have to suffer needless ire. Or be belittled for the mistakes they’ve made in the past and tried to atone for.”
For a long time, he was silent. “I’m not sure I can atone for everything I’ve done. Whether or not you believe me, my father has every reason to still hold scorn against me. I don’t expect you to understand it all.”
“Maybe I don’t want to understand!” I snapped. “Why would I want to give sympathy to someone so cruel to their own son?”
“Hisa,” said Lord Kwan, meeting my eye with a tone of finality. “That is enough.”
It was enough to make me shy from haughty words, but not dissuade me entirely. I dropped my gaze and quieted. “You took up a sword against your brother for me. If it was my father beating on me, and my brothers berating me, would you do nothing?”
“That’s not the same, Hisa,” said Lord Kwan with a lingering irritation.
“Then explain to me how it is different!” I shot my sight back on him, scowling. Not for long, however. His saddened expression tore at me. “Tell me why I can’t fight for someone who’s important to me.”
He stared. “Hisa...”
I hugged my arms around myself, my heart heavy and my head throbbing, and I looked away.
He went on with a sigh. “You’re still that girl who ran up the mountain.”
I shook my head. “I want to be better than I was back then. To be able to do more than just sob and beg.”
He lifted my chin in his hand, a single, swift motion that demanded my attention. “Hisa. You’re fine just as you are.”
“Then why do I feel so useless?” I countered, now punishing myself. “To the point where I try to protect you and end up needing you to save me.”
His hint of a smile returned. “I appreciate that you want to fight for me. That’s already more than most Juneun women are willing to do. Even with magic at their disposal.”
I tried to smile back for him, failing. And I couldn’t tell if he was angry and trying to put me at ease so that I would stop my arguing, or if he sincerely meant it. So, I stared into his eyes, searching for some clue to help me better understand him in that moment. When he started to leave, letting me go, I clung.
“What is it?”
I hesitated, but they’d said as much in all the arguing that he wasn’t engaged. I shut my eyes, counting, and looked at him a last time while my courage was still present. “Kiss me?”
His perplexed expression returned; keeping still, he studied me, trying to read me.
I started to let go. Maybe I was wrong, and his decline of who his family preferred was because he’d found someone else that they disapproved of. “If you don’t... don’t want—you don’t have to. It’s fine.”
His fingers slid under my chin again, turning my cheek, and he placed a kiss at the center of my forehead.
The perfect gesture. And I felt myself unburdened from my own upset.