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I was glad to be back on the mountain, away from unwanted stares and hostile meetings. I didn’t have to worry about false words and trickery to guilt me into anything here. My feelings stayed torn since Seong’s tactics. On one hand, I was relieved that whatever happened to Urekkato had nothing to do with my begging his help. On the other hand, I was upset that he’d ignored my plea when it mattered most—the reason I’d agreed to the sight spell at all.
A giddiness nestled in my heart. Kwan’s last words to his eldest brother rewarded the faith I’d held during my confrontation.
I wanted to celebrate that, and went to fetch a rice wine. While the household brought in our things, tidied up, and readied a lunch, I shuffled to one of the storehouses I knew still had stock. Unpacking could wait.
As I approached, I heard voices. Whether from the distraction of my small mission, or the weariness of travel, it didn’t dawn on me that they came from inside the store room until I’d started opening the door.
They hushed, and my eyes fell on Syaoran and Uno in a somewhat compromising position. Embarrassed, I squealed out a quick word of apology and shut the door. Standing there, face flushed and hand over my mouth as I stared at the door, I concluded that I would never understand Syaoran. Uno was hardly how he described a perfect partner, and what I originally thought was a crush turned out to be suspicion, but now—what did it matter?
I turned to leave when the door slid open again.
“What did you want?” asked Syaoran, irritated.
I looked at him, a little confused by his tone, though I couldn’t blame him. “Rice wine,” I said. “We only just got back. I thought you were somewhere in the house with everyone else.”
He let out a long sigh, reining in his expression. “What you saw—it’s not—”
I held up a palm and shook my head. “You two don’t have to explain yourselves to me.”
He twisted his face, becoming quizzical before his fingers went to massage his forehead as he left. I turned to go in, almost colliding with Uno and the bottle of rice wine in her hands. She appeared sheepish and ashamed, flinching when I thanked her.
“It’s alright,” I whispered. “If you like him, it can’t be helped. Even I liked him a little when I first came here.”
She looked horrified. “It’s not—” She stopped, shrinking into herself with a guilty expression, and nodded.
I thought nothing of the incident for days. Summer fast approached, and, slowly, everything was restocked. Things seemed on track to go back to normal.
However, the timing of my return from Mokryon weighed on Uno. On a day when Kwan left the house to check in elsewhere on the mountain, she couldn’t stay silent any longer.
“My lady?” Her voice quiet, almost fearful caught me off guard. She stopped combing my hair, and I stopped mending socks.
“You don’t need to call me that,” I said.
“Y-yes. I, I just...”
I turned to look at her. “What’s wrong?”
“Master Syaoran bid I say nothing. But it feels wrong to keep it a secret.”
“Keep what a secret?”
“The,” she hesitated. “The reason he brought me into the storehouse, that day. It wasn’t for an affair. I accidentally walked in on him searching through Lord Kwan’s apartment.”
“Searching for what?”
“I, I don’t know,” said Uno, still quiet in tone. “He wouldn’t say. But it looked suspicious. I thought you ought to know, perhaps bring it to Lord Kwan.”
“Oh, that,” I said. “He’s told me. It was by accident, but he told me. It’s something misplaced. And, with the new lay of the house and things moved about for the seasons and occasions, I guess it’s better to check everywhere. Just in case.”
“But... in the apartment?”
That did strike me as odd. “Syaoran has been a trusted part of the house for decades,” I assured. Partly for Uno, and partly for myself. “And he’s been a good friend to me, from the night I arrived to now. Whatever his reason...” I couldn’t shake how strange it was.
Why did he search the third floor? While he’d said to me that his missing thing shouldn’t be handled by a human, why demand secrecy from Uno who didn’t know better? Shame? That he was in here while Kwan and I were away? Maybe. If so, why not brief Uno and stay vague? Surely, she’d understand.
“It’s not my business,” I said, sighing out my resolve. “I wish he’d let me help him. I think it’s a matter of pride more than anything.”
“If you’re sure, my lady,” said Uno, slow to resume. I did likewise. “I just thought you should know. After hiding my identity as a fox spirit, I don’t want to keep anymore secrets or give rise to distrust. If I’m dismissed from the house, I’ll never get a chance like this again. Not anywhere. Never mind as high a position.”
“I’d never let that happen,” I said. “You’ve been kind from the start. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve had to learn that it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. Kwan doesn’t care for appearance, and neither does Genji. They value character.”
“I’ve only heard stories about the Elk prince,” said Uno. “If he approved of my character, I might be able to convince my sister to stop hiding herself. I could see her if she and her husband came to court.”
I was reminded then how long so many of the girls went without seeing their families. Something that made me feel a little selfish for grieving five short years. “Do you miss her?”
“Every day,” said Uno. “I want to make her proud. She’d always looked after me, when it was only the two of us. She wanted me to make something of myself, and not end up as her husband’s mistress.”
“To her husband?” I echoed, twisting my brow.
“He’s not a cruel man,” said Uno, seeming to realize she’s spoken too freely. “But it’d be a lie to say he didn’t take advantage of how desperate we were.”
I knew better than to ask, but the words came out anyway. “Who is your sister’s husband?”
Uno paused, hesitating. I turned to look at her, seeing her eyes dart away and her black fox ears drooped. She seemed pained to say anything more. “The bastard son of Lord Seong. Lord Kwan’s eldest brother.”
I was mortified. “His son?”
“Born to his mistress,” said Uno. “But not acknowledged.”
Things made more sense and less sense at the same time. The secrecy and fright. I’d assumed her sister’s marriage from desperation had to do with their poor circumstance, and then a little to do with their identity as fox spirits. It didn’t dawn on me that there might’ve been a threat to refusal of this magnitude. Kwan’s brothers—most of them—seemed to hate fox spirits, regardless of whether or not they had ties to Gumiho.
“We were a little fortunate,” said Uno, picking up on my unease. “My brother by law has more opportunity and access than his bastard cousins.”
“Cousins from who?” I asked, quick in my words. I was terrified of the answer, but I’d already said it.
“The now late lord brothers to Lord Kwan,” said Uno, curious in tone. “Without their fathers, nearly everything was closed off to them. As it likely is for Lord Beom’s child.”
“Beom?”
Uno flinched, having spilled more in the last few minutes than she’d meant to ever reveal. “Born four summers past, my lady. No one seems to know anything, outside of the girl claiming he sired the child.”
****
I tried not to fixate on that conversation and the strangeness of it all. Instead, I occupied my time with my usual things, and plan what to do when I get home to settle everything. Practicing my sketch work, and watching Koji prance around the pond to look at the koi inside, I reminded myself to come up with a way to repay Fumei for having taken care of my family and loaning me her clothing. Perhaps a lovely dress of her own. If Juro didn’t want them back, there was no reason I couldn’t give those ones away.
The last time I spoke with my friend, she’d pledged to remain unmarried until I made a good match first. It seemed like such a valiant thing, though I knew it must’ve been a hard and lonely promise to keep. And if she was determined to not engage with anyone who thought meanly of me in my absence, I could invite her up to help find her a good husband elsewhere.
My thoughts were disrupted when cool hands took hold of my shoulders, and a kiss touched my cheek. I smiled, looking over to meet Kwan’s gaze.
“Let’s go inside,” whispered Kwan.
I shook my head, maintaining a soft, happiness on my face.
He tilted his head, kissing just below my ear, then to my neck.
“Not today,” I whispered. When he paused to look at me, I explained. “I’m... my blood is in.”
“So?”
I shook my head, half scoffing while my smile stayed. “I don’t feel up to it.”
Kwan relented, bringing me into a kind embrace. For a while, we stayed like that, enjoying each other’s stillness.
“Do you need a tea?” asked Kwan, quiet and patient. “For pain?”
I chuckled, quick and soft. “I’m managing.”
We remained in place, brought back to our surroundings when a splash sounded. Koji slipped into the pond, his front half submerged up to his neck. He looked around, confused, and struggled to get his paws back on dry ground. I laughed, watching him shake off the water and pretend nothing happened.
“When you’re feeling up to it,” said Kwan, “I want to take you somewhere, and show you something.”
“Take me where?” I asked, meeting his eye again.
He said nothing. Staring a moment, his hint of a smile grew, and he walked from me.
While we didn’t engage that night, I still went to his bed to be beside him.
As sleep started to take hold, I couldn’t contain that question any longer. “If we had children, what would they be?”
Kwan looked at me, a curiousness to him. “A boy would be the young lord of Inori. A girl, the young lady of Inori.”
“They’d have you name?”
“Naturally.” He scooted, propping himself onto an arm. “What is this about?”
I squirmed a bit. “Uno said her sister was married to Seong’s bastard son. And accidentally mentioned about the ones from your late brothers.”
“You worry I will not acknowledge any child born from the woman I love? My wife?”
It sounded ridiculous when he put it that way.
He caressed my face, regaining my attention. “Half-human or not, they will be my children. Born from my wife. That is all.”
I was put a little more at ease. Outside fears clawed at my insecurities to no avail. I shouldn’t have doubted.
“You never mentioned your late brothers.”
His cool embrace returned to me. “I hardly knew them. They died when I was a child. My two eldest sisters died before I was even born.”
It shocked me. And I could now understand, a little, the frustration of his family. To have lost so many children took its toll, and must’ve made for a rigid upbringing on the rest. Not knowing what to say in response, I wrapped my arm around him, keeping close to provide whatever comfort I could. While I still had questions, it felt too invasive to ask any of them.