| |
The night after her leaving, the room was still. Kwan lay in bed, no longer used to the complete silence. He looked across the space to where her bed lay tucked away, void of her silhouette and soft, rhythmic breathing. Sighing, he turned to his side, avoiding the vacancy. A string of red stared back at him from his finger. He closed his eyes, clearing out the distraction.
Court would be held at summer’s end, keeping the façade of power. He’d heard nothing of Gumiho in the last year. Nor Urekkato. Had he done it? She’d tested herself in coming onto the mountain, leading to the assault after. She’d known protection was limited. The best front he could do, now, was hold regular assemblies where powerful Juneun gathered. If she was still out there.
He soured at the thought. So much life lost in haughty battle. And for what? Better if he’d been left to handle it alone, rather than an impatient command by the Mireu King, goaded by Urekkato and the others. There was also the uncertainty of how many Kurai were willing, and how many were subject to the will of Gumiho holding their souls.
Whether or not the oath breaking worked, caution was better than assumption. The image of the boy flashed in his mind. An innocent, caught in the scheming of high lords. Titles alone couldn’t spare the human princeling. These were the games they played.
Maybe he was foolish for having made a new commitment. There was no guarantee of his end, but it was too enticing to refuse in exchange for Bird Song. If nothing more, it ensured added protection for her, for his Hisa. She might not see it the same way, and he’d have to confess the circumstance to explain it to her. Only girls, only boys, none at all, as long as she didn’t hate him.
The guests buzzed with gossip during court, speaking of Uno’s appearance and wondering who would make for a finer prospect for Kwan amongst themselves. Not that it mattered.
Hisa seemed to no longer exist to any of them once out of sight. No one questioned her absence that first day of court.
The second day, in his apartment, was another matter.
“Lord Kwan is secretive,” said Zhen, sly. “Underhanded arrangements, which he doesn’t tell his brothers, breaking oaths made from his ancestral well, and trying to cheat me out of a promise.”
Kwan stared from across the table, setting down his cup of wine. “I have no intention of cheating you out of anything.”
Zhen smirked, leaning on the sword where he sat. “Still pretending the games of society are beneath you while you play them? Were you planning to trade me half-bred brats in exchange for Bird Song?”
Kwan leered.
“You omitted to say whether they’d be bastards.”
“I am promising you titled heirs. Is that not sufficient?”
Zhen looked him over, measuring. “Where is your human anyway? Your bed must be getting cold.”
Kwan narrowed his gaze.
“You wouldn’t be fool enough to try and title offspring from a human. Are you fool enough to make a human your wife? Poor and unsightly as she is?”
Kwan’s palm slammed on the wood, shaking the whole of the table. Low and threatening growls left him.
Zhen quirked a brow. “You really mean to go through with it?”
Kwan stayed as he was.
“Why should I trade Bird Song for half-breeds?”
“Then don’t,” said Kwan, level in tone.
Zhen’s expression changed, the bravado fleeting. “I don’t believe you’d let Bird Song slip through your fingers for a human.”
For a long while, Kwan stared, saying nothing, waiting for Zhen’s fidgeting to gain aggression. “I’ve made my offer. If it is not to your liking, we have nothing more to discuss.” He needed to rein in his temper to make the bluff work. A play to Zhen’s ego, in wanting more ties to an older family name.
Scoffing, Zhen’s smirk reappeared. “An alteration. Humans don’t live more than eighty years at best. I’ve no doubt you’ll marry again after. As will Genji.” He relaxed himself, putting on a bluff of his own. “Arrange for my sister to visit your old master privately. Encourage an affection.”
“You think I hold power over Genji’s decisions?”
“I think you hold influence.”
Kwan waited, weighing. “I guarantee nothing outside of their meeting.”
“I suspect you said the same thing to your niece. And now...” A grin slowly spread across him.
Still, and unimpressed, Kwan said nothing.
****
In the night, he wrestled with sleep. Between his conscience and the emptiness of the apartment room, he fought to keep his eyes shut. When he did, he dreamed. She was back, climbing on him, sharing in a kiss, and another. A level of assertiveness he wasn’t used to. He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close. It felt real. And different. Enough to cause him to wake fully.
Black hair, and brown eyes, but it wasn’t Hisa. He frowned. She blinked, leaning in again with pouting lips. At her touch to his own lips, he stopped her. His senses gathered, piecing together the reasons. She was a servant, though he didn’t know from where or to whom. One of few who took note of Hisa’s absence, and made an ambitious move. An attempt to elevate herself.
He sat up, wordless in his displeasure. She batted her eyes, unable to comprehend, and slid her night robe off. Taking her arm, Kwan pulled her out of bed with him in a rough movement, wrapping his sheet around her as he towed her to the door. Outside, he let go, seeing her bewildered expression as he stepped back in and closed his doors, swift and with little grace.
Alone again, he massaged his temples and eyes. On a whim, he made for her bed rather than his own, breathing in whatever lingering scent remained when he collapsed in it. She’d left her rabbit, a treasured possession. Kwan stared a while, slowing his breath to take in her smell from it. His eyes trailed, finding that thread on his finger again. Soothed, he fell asleep.
Boldness, more aggressive than when he newly began holding court again. With every approach from a lady in want of an engagement, and every invite of a servant wanting a more comfortable life, he regretted his decision to host.
It couldn’t be avoided, Kwan reminded himself. To gain Bird Song, to maintain a show of control, to safeguard the mountain. Gumiho knew now that she could confront his home with little resistance.
So why hadn’t she?
Until he was certain, caution was key. Not for himself. For her.
In another restless night, he took a walk, fanning away the thick, summer air as he did. By sheer coincidence, he came across Uno, harassed by a drunken serf not his own. So intoxicated, he didn’t notice Kwan walking towards them.
A bamboo rod flew to Kwan’s gesture. Three swift strikes to the man’s back. He turned, readying to fight, and paled when he saw the offended host.
“Who is your master?” asked Kwan, severe.
Falling into a pleading bow, he whimpered.
Kwan repeated his question, a low growl in his voice.
“Lord Bul Gae, of the Fire Dogs,” answered the man in a quiver.
Kwan studied him over, deciding how to handle it. “Rise.”
The serf obeyed.
“Deliver a message to your master.”
He nodded, unaware to the depth of his insult. A strike to his face sent him stumbling.
“Deliver this message, for bringing a servant who cannot control his wine intake.” With nothing more to say, Kwan snatched Uno’s wrist, towing the trembling girl away.
While he expected some harassment, negligible and easy to dissuade as the host—since he’d been known to keep curious company—he didn’t think any would wait until after the lights turned out to lure away the young fox spirit. It was too underhanded for any dignified person.
In his room, he released her and closed the doors. “You will stay here for the night.”
Walking to his bed, an eerie feeling prickled his skin. Looking back, he saw the poor girl shaking as she tried to undo her layers of court attire. One piece fell away, and then another, and he couldn’t make sense of the scene.
“What are you doing?”
She jumped at his collected tone, shuffling to him with a whimper. “I’m sorry. I’ve just never...”
Kwan blinked, slow and exhausted.
“I’ve never lain with anyone.” Her hands trembled violently, trying to unfasten the next piece.
“I did not bring you here for me.”
Ears flat, she looked up timidly with a question.
Kwan gestured to Hisa’s bed. “While court is held, you may sleep here for your protection. Not for my entertainment.”