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Kwan felt a burden lift from his shoulders, confiding in her beside the well. Not even Kwang knew the reason why he alone chased Gumiho. He half expected to be chastised or scolded for his folly. Instead, she’d shown compassion. In explaining his reasons for withholding a proposal, she made no gripe, accepting the circumstance.
More, he delighted in her sincere concern for him in the cold. She was kind. Something he cherished and wanted to remain that way.
Then, there was her own vow. One she didn’t need to make.
They sat in comfortable quiet, huddled under his coat while he rested his chin and cheek atop her hair. He breathed her in, his Hisa. The memory of her savaged arm by his account—that he’d almost lost her—weighed in his heart. He needed to break the bond to Gumiho, to free himself of rushing in if she was still a threat.
There were few he could think of that might know how, and none of them savory. If it meant protecting her, he’d endure whatever humiliation came with it.
In presenting him with the half-coat, he marveled at the embroidery. She remembered. A conversation that most would’ve forgotten, the day they rode to the lake’s edge. His wisteria girl. It made him all the more eager to see the pagoda restored. A place where they could be alone with each other, unbothered. She was human, and full of surprises. It wouldn’t be a dull marriage; one he would, instead, treasure.
Watching her fret over what to choose for herself, it entertained Kwan with a thought: what would she do with a wife’s income? He didn’t know if humans were the same in their marriage, owing a portion of revenue to their wife. Then again, perhaps they never encountered so long a lifetime for quarrels and mistreatment to be brought to their rulers. Juneun typically stayed out of intervening too much with human affairs. Hisa would probably send most of her new income back to her village in gifts. The imagining of it amused him more. He only hoped her sweetness wouldn’t be taken advantage of by former neighbors.
Again, the memory of her arm flashed in his mind. What if he couldn’t break his bond to Gumiho? If he died, what would become of Hisa? It wasn’t the first time he thought about this. The reason he wanted to go to his brother’s hosting was that very concern.
On arriving to Kwang’s home, he noted Hisa’s enchantment with the river pouring into the sea, reminded then that she’d never seen it. He started to smile, endeared by the cuteness of her wide-eyed stare at the ocean. He supposed that, for some, there might be a fear of getting too close. And he didn’t want her afraid.
So, at her mention of wanting to go up to the sea, to experience it, he felt relief. He reminded himself then that she was the girl who ran up the mountain in the night. Of course she wouldn’t be afraid. She was Hisa.
When formalities on Kwang’s behalf ended, Kwan called on him, trying not to draw attention.
“I’m actually surprised you came at all,” said Kwang. “After what happened on your mountain, and canceling court, I would’ve thought you’d shut yourself in again.” He gestured at a servant to set the table, and brought over a bottle of apricot wine. “I should’ve guessed. You want something. And you want to keep it secret from the rest of our family.” With a boyish grin, he and Kwan took a seat.
“I did secure you a tutelage with Genji,” said Kwan. “Or would you have one of our elder brothers suggest a mentor to father?”
Kwang snickered. “This must be something important if you’re bring that up.”
Kwan said nothing, taking his offered wine to drink. With a flick of the hand, his brother dismissed the servants, leaving them alone to speak.
“I’ll keep your secrets.”
Kwan took his time, measuring his words and his brother’s reaction, casting his own spell to silence them from eavesdroppers. “Genji has named me heir to Tetsuden.”
Kwang stopped mid-sip.
“Naturally, if I were to die, that inheritance falls to you. The next youngest son.”
“O-okay,” stuttered Kwang, overwhelmed with storming thoughts.
“I want you to waive your claim to it,” said Kwan. “And sign it over to my widow.”
“Widow?” repeated Kwang, twisting his brow and blinking. “But, you’re not yet—”
“To Hisa.”
Silence. Lasting longer than Kwan anticipated.
“To... Hisa—? You mean you—?”
Kwan said nothing, keeping his watch on his brother.
“Have you thought about this? Really thought about it?”
Kwan kept still.
At a loss for words, Kwang fidgeted, jaw dropped and eyes darting to other parts of his apartment room in search of something to say.
“My last return home, I nearly killed several of my household. Another confrontation may mean my end.”
Kwang furrowed his brow, loosing a pensive sigh. “I see your concern. But... Hisa is human.”
Kwan said nothing, sipping from his cup of wine.
“She’s a sweet girl, I agree,” said Kwang. “A mistress, I’d understand. But you’re not serious about marrying her.”
Kwan remained silent.
“She’s human. I know Genji’s wife was human, but it was a fluke. Aside from it, she doesn’t have titles or a dowry, or anything to bring. And she has...” Kwang’s voice trailed, his finger still pointing at his face.
Kwan continued his stoic stare, giving only a single, slow blink in response.
“You’re serious? You know our father would never allow it.”
Kwan remained statuesque. Watching.
“Say something!”
Kwan took his time before answering, tempering himself. “I will make a formal proposal to Hisa. If she accepts, I will marry her. And if I die, I want to know that I’d done all I could to make sure she’s looked after.”
“Think about what you’re asking,” said Kwang, reining himself in. “Inori, Tetsuden—and all its adjoining lands—to a human girl who likely won’t have it more than sixty years. She wasn’t brought up in this world, Kwan. How is she supposed to handle the finances and upkeep and staffing...?” He trailed with his brother’s pointed gaze. “You want me... to...”
Kwan kept still and silent.
“You want me to handle it for her. Is that it?”
Kwan said nothing, leaving his brother to sigh in frustration.
“It would’ve been easier to just ask me to take her as a mistress if you—” he stopped, seeing a scowl begin on his brother’s face. “I wouldn’t have touched her! I’m only saying it’d be easier than what you’re asking me now. Think about how this looks. You’re choosing a human over your kin. Over your brother.”
“Genji is fond of her,” said Kwan. “If she chooses to stay on Mount Tora, you will assist with whatever she needs. If Genji and I are both gone—”
“I’ll—” Kwang paused, breathing in to ease his emotion. “I’ll handle it. It’ll be a pain in the ass, but I’ll handle it for her.”
“If she wants to be—”
“If she wants to be involved, yes, I won’t keep it from her.” He swallowed whatever remained in his wine cup in a single gulp, refilling it for another swig.
Kwan waited. “You will sign off your claim.” It wasn’t a question.
“I will sign off my claim.”
“You will look after her.”
“I will look after her.”
“As though she were your sister.”
“As though,” continued Kwang, speaking slower to emphasis his compliance, “she were my sister.” He refilled their cups again.
From beneath his robes, Kwan produced the papers needed to legalize the inheritance transfer. His brother waved a hand, his stationery floating over. Patience was needed, waiting for one request to finish before presenting another.
Despite compliance, it wasn’t an easy exchange. Questions and specifications and amendments were necessary. Prominent among them that, if there was not a child, the inheritance would fall back to Kwang; and if there were children between them, they would be brought up for proper inheritance and titles—which meant drawing up new documentation. More amendments would be needed depending on sex. Pending was noted, and would close if there was no child born or expected upon Kwan’s death.
Tedious work. Hours of it. The final stroke of the ink-brush lending peace of mind.
“You’re not planning on getting yourself killed anytime soon, are you?” teased Kwang, hiding his frustration.
Kwan gave a single shake of his head. “That is where I ask another favor.”
His brother sighed, pouring the last of the wine between them. “After this demand, how bad can your next one be?”
“It depends,” said Kwan. “Which members of the Lion Clan are here?”
Kwang raised a brow. “Why them in particular?”
“Theirs is the clan that forged Bird Song. A sword for kings.”
Kwang leaned back on his palms, pursing his lips as his mind created a shortcut to answers. “You want them to forge a sword with a specific purpose? Or, one for slaying Gumiho?”
“One strong enough to cut a bond made in the water of our ancestral home.”
Kwang quirked a brow. “Why not borrow Bird Song? Dae Jum’s eldest grandson lost it in a contest to Zhen the last time I held Mokryon. Rumor has it, he’s under house arrest by the crown prince for the next twenty more years. My first hosting as the new master of Bitgaram was lively.”
Kwan didn’t care for the gossip. The important part being that something which could possibly break his oath to Gumiho was nearer at hand.
“Who am I sending for?”
****
Zhen sat across from the brothers, grinning. It’d been a delicate conversation, needing to be sure the sword could be used the way Kwan needed before exposing anything. “And they say the Samjos are more foolhardy. To make such an incautious promise. Now, things make more sense.”
The brothers said nothing, with the younger imitating the demeanor of the elder.
“You won’t put me into submission with silence and rank,” said Zhen. “I think I’m due a little more if you want Bird Song.”
“The sword is a mere possibility,” said Kwan.
“Don’t give me that,” said Zhen. “Don’t pretend you have more options. It means revealing this unfortunate piece history. And the easy solution to all this would be to take Lord Kwan’s head. Or, the Mireus would see it that way. And we can’t ignore a king’s order.”
“What do you want?” asked Kwang, impatient.
Zhen’s smug expression intensified. “Your sister.”
“Out of the question—!” snapped Kwang, stopped by the gesture of his brother’s arm.
“If Sara is betrothed to me, and Kwan to my sister Towa, I will break the oath for you.”
“I can promise neither,” said Kwan. “It is my father who can match my sister, if you cannot secure her acceptance. And I am recently promised to another.”
“You cannot un-promise?” teased Zhen, testing the patience of the brothers.
“No,” said Kwan, flat.
“Then what can you give me?” asked Zhen, sighing and feigning boredom.
Kwan kept still. While Sara did go out of her way to antagonize him, even in childhood, she was still his sister. A gilded cage, she’d called it. Despite everything, he couldn’t bring himself to go through in trying to persuade her to accept Zhen.
He stood. “We will reconvene tomorrow.”
It seemed the only way, for now, to bide time and come up with something tempting, was to leave. His family was right in their chastising. In a haste to build allies, he gifted lands and bestowed titles too liberally for there to be anything that might entice Zhen. Perhaps from his inheritance lands, though they weren’t fully his to give.
“Uncle,” called a sweet voice.
Kwan paused in his stride, looking over to Yeona as she trotted up. Her pace a mess in the battle against wanting to run over while maintaining ladylike dignity. He watched with an intrigue, now seeing her grown and struggling to contain girlish glee.
“May I walk with you?”
Kwan nodded to her request.
She took his arm, holding up her hand fan to her chest. “You look downtrodden, Uncle.”
Kwan grunted.
“More than usual, I mean.”
“Do I?”
“I thought you’d be happier to see me in my first outing.”
Rather than debate or defend, he redirected the conversation. While Yeona presented sweetly, he hadn’t seen her often to know her well. Better to avoid than accidentally give way to gossip. “How are you liking your first time away from your house?”
Yeona shrugged. “Mother says it’s too dangerous for me to leave the castle unaccompanied. But she goes out unattended without thought. Father is here, grandfather is here, my uncles are here, my brothers are here, and it is my uncle’s home. How much safer could I possibly be?”
Kwan didn’t engage in her venting.
“Father left the raising of myself and my sisters to Mother. And she wouldn’t explain most anything needed to navigate society. I was just supposed to already know somehow. And when I don’t, I’m scolded for it. I hoped I would have a little freedom away from the house. But I’m watched every second of the day—I cannot breathe!”
He was reminded again of Sara, describing her gilded cage.
“I don’t understand how the world could be so impossibly dangerous that I cannot step one foot out the gates of my own home, yet we hold court and festivals and parties. How Mother can go to visit a friend and be gone a week or more, unattended, yet my walking the arbors and not come inside as soon as the sun sets could spell my death. I’ve been kept naïve and made to feel afraid of anything beyond home, all while believing it is some fault of my own making rather than the neglect of my upbringing.”
“The concern isn’t without some warrant,” said Kwan.
“Because of Aunt Jiana, who died when I was a baby. That was so many years ago. How could the world possibly be more dangerous? At times, I feel more like an inconvenient pet than a daughter. I’m praised when it suits my parents, and ignored when I am not useful. Which is why I’ve given myself a mission on my first outing.”
Kwan merely grunted his acknowledgment.
“Before Mokryon ends, I will be married.”
“Ambitious.”
“And I’m recruiting you to help me in my efforts, Uncle Kwan.”
“Are you?”
“Father says you lack all respect for family values.”
“He’s misinformed,” said Kwan, tempered in his tone. “I have the greatest respect for family. We simply disagree on how where it ought to be upheld, and where it ought to be challenged.”
Yeona smiled. “Which is why I’m recruiting you. You know the lords present, do you not? I would’ve asked Aunt Sara, since she knows my plight like hers. But she’s set on getting her own way, and I would only be a distraction. Could you not sympathize with my perspective?”
“In what way?”
“Our family seems to like ostracizing whoever doesn’t fit perfectly in their design. So, I’m relying on you to make introductions on my behalf and help me find a husband.”
Kwan tilted his head down to better look at his niece.
“I know you want to tell me I’m young and impetuous,” said Yeona, direct. “But as a wife, I might have a little freedom. I want some control of my life—even in just small matters. Mother wouldn’t so much as allow me to pick out a dress.”
“A husband, chosen in haste, might jail you still.”
“But not if you make the introductions,” plead Yeona. “If you help me to choose a husband who is not so suffocating. You and Uncle Kwang called on Lord Zhen not long ago.”
Kwan said nothing, not wanting to slip into some baited game.
“Wouldn’t he make for a good match? He has a list of achievement to make him a tempting prospect. And his lands are said to be beautiful and full of fragrance. That was the reason he was sent to the royal palace, was it not? To charm the youngest princess?”
“Lord Zhen has a reputation of many things,” said Kwan, trying to dissuade hurried actions.
“I know. My own boy attendant made mention of his discomfort. But all that would mean for me is that I wouldn’t be needed so often in his bed. Besides, I’m not fond of my boy and I don’t think I will bring him into my household when I am wed. He parrots too much of Mother and feeds her need to exaggerate to anyone who will listen. Usually Father. Sometimes I think that rabbit you sent me has more freedom than I do.”
Kwan watched her, trying to read into how much of what she said was sincere, and how much was a façade. If nothing else, she was direct. More than he’d come to expect from the usual ladies at court.
“You will make an introduction, won’t you?” asked Yeona. “At least so I can see if I like him at all for myself. I’d hoped Lord Genji might come, and introductions made that way. If he did, Father couldn’t object. And a gentler husband would mean I wouldn’t be so confined. If not Lord Zhen, then Lord Haru—though I’d heard rumor that he’s newly intended on a girl from the Masa family. However, if you think he is not too fond of her, perhaps you could introduce me still?”
Kwan found it almost amusing. His niece had the tactics of a vicious lady of court, though lacked the cunning to keep it nuanced.
“I am determined, Uncle,” said Yeona when Kwan didn’t respond. “If you don’t help, and go to my father instead, I will behave more persistently and elope. Better that scandal than to be imprisoned by my own family.”
Kwan led them away, to a more remote part of his brother’s water garden. There, he spoke more freely while staying hushed. “If you are willing to be a pawn to another family, perhaps you are too naïve.”
“At least it would be my own choosing,” said Yeona, matching his volume.
“Do you know what you would be getting into?”
“No,” admitted Yeona. “And the way things are, I still wouldn’t know in three hundred years.”
Kwan watched her, reading her expression, and heaved a sigh. While a part of him argued against the idea, he did (to some extent) sympathize with her. She needed an escape, and he needed something to temp Zhen’s compliance. “Lord Zhen is housed opposite the ocean view.”
Yeona blinked.
“I will make the introduction.”