The Azure Dragon’s Devotion: An Offering of Three Centuries to You, page 3
Karin was present too, albeit farther down the table, and he was fixing Kohaku with a stern glare. It was clear from his expression: He hated that someone like Kohaku was having such a friendly conversation with his precious Seiryu. Karin had directly warned Kohaku away from Seiryu several times before, but this was all just a misunderstanding. A vexing one, at that. That was yet another reason Kohaku avoided Seiryu to the best of his ability.
Yet this man could never read the room! The more Kohaku tried to get away, the more Seiryu tried to spend time with him. What a headache. Maybe this was Seiryu’s way of flirting with Karin, but Kohaku wished they would play their lovers’ games away from him.
Kohaku once again turned to drinking to suppress his anger. He had a high tolerance for alcohol, so he seldom got drunk, but he must’ve had too much that night. When he stood up to go to the restroom, he swayed and stumbled. Before he could topple over, Seiryu steadied him.
“I almost never see you drunk,” he said. “Are you all right?”
No, I’m not! If looks could kill, Karin would incinerate me on the spot! Luckily, Kohaku still had enough presence of mind to bite back those words.
“Release me,” he snapped. “Leave me alone.” He tried to shrug Seiryu off. However, Seiryu only tightened his grip in response, and he dragged Kohaku outside.
“You need to sober up,” he said. “Let’s get some fresh air.”
“Hey, what the hell?!”
Only after Seiryu had dragged him out to the courtyard did Kohaku finally succeed in pulling himself out of the man’s hold. His irritation only grew when he felt a lingering pain in his arm from the tightness of Seiryu’s grip. Seiryu may have looked like a delicate maiden, but he boasted some insane strength.
“Please tell me if you’re going through something,” Seiryu said.
“Hah! The chieftain of the Dragon Clan is a philanthropist! Am I ‘going through something’? When am I not?!”
“Kohaku, I’m being serious.”
“I’m being serious too!”
Kohaku could count on one hand the number of times his life had gone right, and it had been that way since birth. But what was the point of bringing that up? Complaining wouldn’t solve anything, so he never told anyone. Seiryu’s invasive questions made Kohaku’s blood boil. He knew nothing about Kohaku, yet he would occasionally try to offer kindness, as if he viewed Kohaku as some charity case. Kohaku hated this man. His hand curled into a fist, but before he could punch Seiryu, a frantic voice stopped him.
“Lord Kohaku!” It was Mashiro. He must have followed them to the courtyard. Clinging onto Kohaku’s arm, he pleaded, “Lord Kohaku, let’s go back inside. Okay?”
The desperation on Mashiro’s face brought Kohaku back to his senses, cooling the anger burning in the pit of his stomach. What was he doing? He’d been about to punch the chieftain of the Dragon Clan, of all people!
Kohaku exhaled and slowly relaxed his hand. After collecting himself, he muttered, “I had too much to drink.”
“Kohaku—”
“I’m leaving.”
Kohaku turned away from Seiryu. He didn’t want to spend even another second here. He’d attended half of the banquet, and that should have fulfilled his duties as the White Tiger Clan’s representative.
“Kohaku, wait!”
He could hear Seiryu behind him, but he walked away without a second look back. At the end of the day, they would never understand each other. As a child of the Dragon Clan, you had people fawning over you from birth. What could you ever know about me? How could you, with your lovely horns and tail, ever understand how I feel? Kohaku knew he was being unfair, but he couldn’t stop the negative spiral of his thoughts.
Next to him, Mashiro was peering into his face with a worried look. “Lord Kohaku?”
“What?”
“What’s your relationship to that man?”
Kohaku thought for a moment before he replied, “He’s just someone I can never get away from.”
“But you two seemed...” Mashiro looked over his shoulder and trailed off. This wasn’t like him—he was the type of person who never hesitated to make his opinion known.
“Is something the matter?”
“Oh, no. It’s nothing.” Mashiro shuddered before grabbing Kohaku and dragging him forward. “Let’s go home! A hot bath before bed is just what you need on nights like this!”
“Yeah, I agree.”
Kohaku refused to linger on bad memories or feelings—doing so was a waste of time. After all, bad things happened every day. If he had let every little thing bother him, he would’ve died ages ago. Kohaku only hoped that he wouldn’t have to see Seiryu for a while. That was the sole thought he carried with him as he retired for the night.
***
“So you had an argument with Lord Seiryu, huh?”
Kohaku scowled when he saw the amused smirk on his friend’s—Shunran’s—face. He repressed the urge to throw the papers in his hand at Shunran and replied, “If you insist on bringing up stupid gossip, I’m going home.”
Shunran chuckled. “You always get so riled up when I mention him.”
“No, I don’t! I don’t care about him one bit!” Kohaku slammed the papers down on the desk.
“Okay, okay, you don’t,” Shunran said soothingly. “I got it. Make sure you don’t rip those.”
The documents in Kohaku’s hand were written requests from the chieftain of a beastfolk tribe farther north. Apparently, more demons had appeared in that region, and the tribes were having a hard time keeping them in check. After receiving so many of these letters from different chieftains asking if he had any experience dealing with similar demons, Shunran had asked Kohaku to drop by his manor and help out.
As the chieftain of the Eagle Clan, Shunran had a pair of large wings protruding from his back. He could fly with them, but he couldn’t stay in the air for very long, likely because his magic wasn’t strong enough to sustain an extended flight. With his amiable looks and casual manner of speech, Shunran had a way of putting others at ease. Kohaku was no exception—spending time with Shunran was one of the few comforts he had in life.
At least, it was supposed to be.
“You left the banquet so suddenly, and Lord Seiryu went home pretty much right after you did,” Shunran continued. “We spent the rest of the night wondering whether you did or said something to tick him off.”
“Tsk.”
“Don’t click your tongue at me! Man, you always get so touchy about Lord Seiryu.”
Exasperated, Shunran poured some tea into a cup and handed it to Kohaku, who snatched it out of his hands. It was lukewarm, and Kohaku chugged the entire cup in one gulp.
“He just rubs me the wrong way!” Kohaku yelled, slamming the cup on the desk with a loud clatter.
Shunran sighed and shook his head, then took a leisurely sip of his own tea. “I bet he does. You and Lord Seiryu lead such different lives. He can never relate to your struggles, nor will you ever understand his.”
“Struggles? Are we discussing the same man?” Kohaku’s eyes widened as he processed his friend’s unexpected words. He’d spent his entire life on the lowest rung of the social ladder, whereas Lord Seiryu had been fawned over and worshipped all his years. Any comparison between their circumstances was laughable.
“Think about it,” Shunran urged gently. “Yes, Lord Seiryu’s treasured by his tribe, but on the flip side, that means he’s never experienced true freedom. Take the matchmaking, for example.”
Kohaku scoffed. “I hear he’s spent the past two hundred and fifty years getting dumped.”
“We don’t know who’s doing the dumping. Anyway, that’s all part of his duty as chieftain, and Lord Seiryu can’t escape from it.”
Kohaku had nothing to say in response. His duty as a chieftain... Those words must weigh on Shunran as well. If Shunran was trying to imply that Kohaku could never understand the responsibility of leading a tribe, then Kohaku had no counter for that.
“I’m sure he’s constantly pressured to continue the bloodline, even if he doesn’t want kids,” Shunran continued. “That’s probably why they keep forcing him on arranged dates.”
The Dragon Clan’s bloodline must never die out. That was just how important the Dragon Clan’s blood was to their society. Their magic was the closest to the power of the gods, and time and time again, they’d wielded that strength to save the beastfolk from harm. Thus, the Dragon Clan and its lineage had to remain eternal, and they—no, all the beastfolk tribes—would do everything in their power to ensure that.
Kohaku brushed his fingers against the collar around his neck. He’d thought himself to be the only one stuck in a life from which there was no escape...but what if Seiryu was in the same situation? Did it mean that Seiryu, too, was collared in some way? But every time Kohaku met him, Seiryu was in a great mood, all smiles—Kohaku had a hard time believing that the dragon chieftain might be somehow confined.
“What if he’s the one actively setting up the meetings?” Kohaku pointed out.
“You wouldn’t be wrong about the ‘active’ part, I suppose. He’s been churning through matchmaking meetings at a shocking speed these past two hundred and fifty years.”
“See? Then—”
Shunran cut him off. “But don’t you think he would’ve found someone he likes by now? If he’s so gung ho about finding an arranged partner, why hasn’t he mated yet?”
“Arranged marriages with members of the Dragon Clan have lots of special rules and conditions, right?” Kohaku pointed out. “Maybe no one’s satisfied all those conditions, and that’s why he’s still single.”
“Ah, yeah, I’ve heard about those rules. Apparently, the meeting with Karin from the White Deer Clan was a bust as well.”
“Karin?”
Kohaku hadn’t known that. He and Seiryu had seemed like a perfect match for one another, but if even Karin had failed to become Seiryu’s arranged partner, then there was no one else in the world for him. Oddly, Kohaku felt a sense of relief that Karin’s matchmaking session with Seiryu hadn’t worked out.
“Karin’s appointment was about a month ago, I think,” Shunran said. “He was really confident before the meeting, but I hear that these days, he’s been down in the dumps.”
Kohaku thought back to Karin’s behavior during the banquet. He almost always stuck to Seiryu’s side and accompanied him wherever he went, but that night when Kohaku had spotted Karin at the party, he’d been watching from a distance. Had he felt too awkward to hang around Seiryu after the failed matchmaking session?
“If even Karin wasn’t a good fit, then what conditions do you have to meet for a successful match?” Shunran wondered. “I’m dying to know.”
“Maybe you have to be prettier than a dragon.”
Shunran laughed at Kohaku’s joke. “If that’s really the case, then Lord Seiryu will never find a mate. Actually, wait. Maybe you could...” He looked over Kohaku, who pursed his lips in irritation.
“Me? Beautiful? Don’t be ridiculous.” Kohaku twisted a lock of damaged hair around his finger. Comparing his hair and all its split ends to Karin’s glossy strands was an insult to the White Deer Clan. The dry skin on his fingers and the cracks in his lips were also the furthest things from beautiful.
“Man, Kohaku, you don’t know the first thing about yourself. You’d be breathtaking if you cleaned yourself up a little.”
“What’s the point in cleaning a ball of dirt?”
“Didn’t you know? Balls of dirt can give off a lovely glow if you polish them.”
“Dirt can shine all it wants, but at the end of the day, it’s still dirt.”
“Oh dear. You really know nothing. Even a ball of dirt can become an irreplaceable treasure if its owner believes it has value.”
“Even a ball of dirt can become an irreplaceable treasure if its owner believes it has value,” huh? Kohaku thought. Will someone think of me that way one day? Will I ever meet a partner who will treasure me? Who will love me and me alone? He hurriedly shook his head to shoo the thoughts away.
“Kohaku?”
“It’s nothing.”
The face that had appeared in Kohaku’s mind belonged to his father. Who could possibly love him when not even his own family did? Kohaku wouldn’t pin his hopes on a fantasy. Even if he had to remain alone for his whole life, he was strong enough to endure.
***
Why must I go through something like this?
As Kohaku shrugged on robes far fancier than anything he had ever worn before, he thought back to the sudden order his father had issued him last night.
“Attend a matchmaking session.”
Four words. Those four simple words had forced Kohaku to spend the day meeting someone for a potential arranged marriage. The order from his father had been entirely one-sided, but it was something Kohaku had no right to reject.
Kohaku’s mother had died during childbirth, so he didn’t even know what she’d looked like. His life had come at the cost of hers, and yet he was a pathetic loser who couldn’t even transform. His father’s disappointment must have been immense. After the death of Kohaku’s mother, his father married a new woman, and though she’d given birth to a child, that child had perished during a conflict with another beastfolk tribe. Since she wasn’t able to become pregnant again, Kohaku remained the sole son of his poor father.
As much as his father must’ve wanted to chase him out of the White Tiger Clan, he couldn’t. The moment Kohaku’s magic weakened, his father could use that as an excuse to exile him, but that day hadn’t yet come.
Kohaku thought back to his father’s inability to even look him in the eye the previous night. His father had truly loved his mother, which was why he despised Kohaku, the one who’d caused her death. As a boy, Kohaku had hoped countless times that, if he could only transform, his father would grow to care for him. But he’d never managed it, and his father still hated him.
Mashiro tightened the belt tie around the waist of the quju shenyi, squeezing an involuntary grunt out of Kohaku.
“Lord Kohaku, are these robes hard to breathe in?” Mashiro asked.
“Did you have to pull it so tight?” Kohaku grumbled.
The only sounds in Kohaku’s manor—which stood out of sight at the very back of the White Tiger Clan’s village—were the voices of Mashiro and Kohaku. Mashiro was hemming and hawing over the robes he’d spread out, while Kohaku acted as a mannequin. All the fancy attire had been borrowed from villagers residing at the foot of the mountain. They adored Mashiro for his natural charm, and when he’d mentioned that he didn’t have any robes for Kohaku to wear, they’d all lent him theirs.
“We have to emphasize your beautiful waist as much as possible,” Mashiro replied. “Please put up with it for today, and you might just come home with a lovely lady on your arm!”
Beastfolk like Kohaku didn’t need slender waists; they needed powerful magic and the ability to transform. Kohaku was the one who’d raised Mashiro, but maybe the boy was spending too much time in the human village. His way of thinking resembled theirs.
Mashiro continued rambling on. “If that happens, we’ll have to renovate this manor and make it a more suitable home for your wife!”
Kohaku peered around his manor with a self-deprecating smile. His only attendant was Mashiro, a human. Before Mashiro’s arrival, Kohaku had lived alone in this manor, and he’d let it fall into disrepair. On occasion, Mashiro tried to fix things up as best as he could, but he was so clumsy that the places he “fixed” always ended up worse than before. The manor didn’t look like a home people lived in.
But to Kohaku, this was the only place where he could let his guard down. He’d lived here for as long as he could remember. His wet nurse had stayed with him when he’d been a baby, but at some point, she’d left him to fend for himself. Since then, he’d had to do everything on his own. Even Mashiro’s terrible attempts at repairing the property made him smile, for each failed project had its own memory to go with it.
“Be more confident in yourself, Lord Kohaku!” Mashiro exclaimed. “With your beauty, I’m sure you’ll find a bride in no time!”
Kohaku didn’t want to burst Mashiro’s bubble when he was all enthusiastic like this, but he didn’t think he would ever find a bride. Kohaku had never once experienced his heat—no one was eccentric enough to want to marry someone like that. Why in the world did his father want him to start matchmaking now, after all this time? Kohaku had no idea what was going through the man’s head.
“Lord Kohaku, you absolutely have to keep a smile on your face! Don’t forget it!” Mashiro continued, his expression serious. He’d propped a hand on his hip like he was a scolding parent.
“Okay, okay. I’ll smile.”
“Yes! And make sure you do so as soon as you reach their village! Let’s practice!”
Never in his life had Kohaku intentionally smiled, but he lifted the corners of his lips at Mashiro’s behest.
Mashiro immediately berated him. “That’s a scary expression! Why would you intimidate them like that?!” The boy then seemed to realize what time it was. “Oh no! Lord Kohaku, we must hurry, or else we’ll be late! Please practice your smile on the way there, all right?!”
Mashiro fussily packed a bag and escorted Kohaku out of the manor. With all preparations complete, Kohaku made his way to the village where his prospective partner lived.
***
“Remember to smile, Lord Kohaku!”
As soon as Kohaku stepped into the village, Mashiro’s final reminder echoed in his brain once again. His attendant hadn’t stopped nagging him about it, so the words were stuck in his mind.
Curious spectators had already gathered at the entrance of the village, hoping to sneak a peek at their visitor. But the loud buzz of their conversation stopped the moment they saw Kohaku. This was why he hated having to leave the manor. Because he couldn’t transform, Kohaku’s appearance lacked any bestial traits, like animal ears or a tail. At first glance, one could mistake him for an ordinary human. So when most people saw Kohaku for the first time, they would stare at him with their mouths agape, much like the villagers were doing now.
