A Dance of Mist and Fury, page 53
I needed to restrain myself from glaring. Prince or not, he said it to deliberately reverse what progress was made.
“I’ve said that I would only agree to marry for love,” I said, determined to reclaim control. “Even if he was the poorest man in the world.”
“I wonder if a father shares the same sentiment,” said Urekkato.
Lord Kwan shifted his gaze to the Cat prince.
“If there is no formal union,” said Genji, after a time, “what is the offense?”
“There is no strict ruling on a servant laying with another servant,” said Lord Kwan. “Unless the lord of the house establishes otherwise, which I have not.”
“Then, there is no offense?” asked Genji.
“Only in pride,” said Urekkato. “Typically, this would be sorted out with a duel. First blood drawn ending the match.”
“Is that not excessive?” asked Genji.
“Surely, during Mokryon, we can overlook the matter,” said Lord Kwan.
“I’ve invested in the engagement,” said Juro. “Now I’m to accept refusal on all sides?”
“Unless Syaoran is willing to take up a sword,” said Urekkato, smug in his expression.
“No,” I said, a little too loudly. All eyes on me, I thought fast on how to pacify the situation. “My Lord Juro, if it’s a matter of expense, I’ll return your gifts. But don’t let blood spill on my account, please.”
Juro glowered. “Then do so now.”
I froze.
“My every gift to you,” demanded Juro.
Urekkato snickered. “Lord Juro demands that Hisa undress this instant?”
Syaoran took a turn to glare at the Cat prince, about to argue when Lord Kwan spoke.
“That is an affront to me. Hisa is my attendant. I will not have my servants humiliated and made to strip publicly.”
Between the words spoken, and the lowered tone, Juro reined in his scowl. “Very well.”
“No blood, no stripping, it is a dull revenge for a jilted lover,” said Urekkato, trying to rile up Juro again.
“Out of respect for my friendship with Lord Kwan, I will retract my last demand,” said Juro, level.
“It’s only a shame you don’t hold that same respect for the woman you desire as your wife,” said Syaoran.
I paled; certain his comment would undo the dying tension.
“My Lord Genji,” continued Syaoran. “For your late wife, Lady Isaden, would you have behaved this way? Or you, my prince?”
Urekkato quirked a brow with interest, his tails flicking behind him. Genji, breathed in, maintaining himself as he considered. I understood Syaoran’s outburst then: an appeal to their own egos, trying to turn it to my favor.
Silence. And I didn’t know if that was a good sign, or a bad one.
“I will recoup your losses, Lord Juro,” said Lord Kwan. “Since it has been invested into my household.”
“It’s not about the cost,” growled Juro. “The investment into a bride is more than material things.”
“Perhaps I’ve misheard,” said Urekkato, “but to who do you refer? This assembly has confirmed that Hisa was not engaged to Lord Juro, and therefore cannot be the bride to which he invested in.”
“That is true,” said Genji, thoughtful.
“And there is no law to support retribution on jealous love without a break in contract. Since no contract, verbal or otherwise exists, there is no crime,” continued Urekkato, delighting in his role. “Unless there is evidence not yet brought up, we may dismiss and continue on with festivities as planned.” He smiled, giving me a knowing look.
Grumbling, Juro stood, being the first to leave.
The rest of us remained where we were in silence.
Lord Kwan stood next, and Syaoran cued me to follow suit. He gave a polite bow and apology to Genji, and we did the same. Even though, to my knowing, neither Lord Kwan, nor Syaoran or myself did anything to warrant an apology. Juro instigated the fuss. All I could think is that it was for the sake of manners in high society; something that needed to happen regardless of whether or not I agreed with it.
We left, following Lord Kwan wordlessly.
Before descending the stairs, I couldn’t bear it anymore, and spoke up. “I’m sorry, my lord.” While I couldn’t tell what Lord Kwan was feeling in that moment, I didn’t want him to be upset with me, quietly or otherwise.
He stopped. And so did we.
Breathing deep, he looked back at me, seeming weary. “It is to Lord Genji who you ought to say that. And to thank him.”
I nodded, dropping my gaze. It was my first (and probably only) Mokryon, and I’d caused such a commotion through circumstance. “Are you angry?”
He resumed his stride. “No.”
“At least let us better explain to you, my lord,” said Syaoran, in a gesture to remove some of the pressure from me.
Lord Kwan said nothing.
I stole a glance to Syaoran, seeing his ears flatten.
Chapter 56
Lord Kwan XIV
And why does she think I’m pregnant with your child?
When Kwan’s mind began to worry too much, leaving Lin, as inexperience as she was, in charge of the house, that memory climbed to the forefront of his thoughts. It replayed in his mind, offering more details with how annoyed she felt. There was something endearing about it. Not that he wanted to upset her, but there was the way she argued and challenged him that he found sweet. The absurdity of it summoned a quiet smile on him every time he glanced to check in on her.
Watching her in awe of the woods as they rode, he adored her. Every expression sincere. His own turning solemn when seeing warm conversation between her and Syaoran.
She’d repeatedly stated the innocents of their relationship. But the day Syaoran presented her in the tea house suggested otherwise. There was a kind of pride on the fox. It was a subject Kwan couldn’t comprehend. Was it platonic or intimate?
In delivering every kiss, he couldn’t deny his feelings. It was a genuine emotion he hadn’t kept in his heart in centuries. Not since he was a younger Juneun, foolhardy and playing at being a man as he made careless oaths. But if her heart was reserved for Syaoran, or that she didn’t fully understand her feelings, revealing his own was sure to complicate things.
Whatever her feelings, for whomever, Kwan didn’t want to stand in the way of her happiness.
There was an awkwardness in tandem with exhaustion that first night, reminding Kwan of just how innocent Hisa truly was. He wanted to safeguard her, be with her, and felt a guilt for it. That he was somehow in her way.
It got the better of him somewhere in the night. After a full day’s ride, she’d likely feel the repercussions of it, being unaccustomed to lengthy travel. Stepping soundlessly, he went to her futon, seeing her clutch her covers. Far from a picture of elegance, but genuine. She muttered her dreams, her expression changing slightly. He smiled, performing his healing spells to allow a more restful sleep.
Syaoran, more experienced, picked up the bulk of morning duties the following day. However, it couldn’t be overlooked of how well they worked together. Kwan decided then to allow them the first day for each other. In stocking the room, they’d undoubtedly keep in each other’s company to speed things along, and would find themselves finished before long. Whatever they decided on after wasn’t his business.
Still, his mind was cruel in putting together the scenarios of what he’d do in Syaoran’s position. Which parks and ponds to visit, and what she might like to view or try. It wasn’t his place.
In his own wandering, his former master called on him, summoning him to the castle’s top floor apartment.
“I’ve already drawn up the documents. Tetsuden and all adjoining lands are your inheritance.”
Kwan stopped his sip of lotus wine, blinking.
“I... You know that I have no heirs,” said Genji. “I must either name my successor, or allow my lands to fall to the crown to handle.”
“Are you sure this is wise?” asked Kwan, setting down his cup.
“I had twenty-five pupils in my long life. Of twenty-five, seventeen survive. Of twenty-five, four sincerely respected Isa. Of the four, three survive. The wisdom is in choosing a successor most like myself.”
“Because of Hisa?”
Genji remained silent for thought. “I have contemplated it this last decade. For most of it, I thought your obsession would put you into the grave. In finding you retain a gentle compassion, I reconsidered.” He drank from his cup, letting quiet linger while he thought of how better to explain. “She’s a gentle soul. And she’s fond of you. I admit I was curious when the rumor came to me, though it wasn’t until you openly held court that I knew something had changed in you.”
Kwan breathed out a sigh, not having the heart to tell his old master that it was a façade to hide his secret. “It seemed the natural course of action. Lord Zhen held court in the same space of time, and likely to greater success.”
“Success?” echoed Genji. “What is the success of a social gathering except to an unmarried man and an unmarried woman? But which of them knows the state of the people in their territory? I came to see if you’d taken an interest in those who relied on you. Hisa is an honest person, from what I can tell. Through her, I learned that you carry out your duties to the people without the need for recognition. Is it any wonder why so few achievements are tallied on you when you refuse basic acknowledgement.”
Kwan stared. In a twist of fate, his delay in justice resulted in a different sentencing to a girl who would become the catalyst for his inheritance. By chance, when she’d been locked with him and chose to show compassion rather than give in to fear, and he in turn felt obligated to repay her, they’d confided in each other. He grew fonder of her, and she of him, all leading to this moment. An unlikely friendship, resulting from inconvenient circumstance, would make him the wealthiest in his family—heir to an ancient house.
“Do you accept it?”
Kwan bowed from his seat. “It is an honor.”
Genji nodded, raising his cup and waiting for Kwan to do likewise before they drank. “Will you move your household when it is yours?”
Kwan paused. Overwhelmed by the prestige of it—something that would make pressure from his family cease—he didn’t think of the logistics of it all. “No. They’re comfortable in their stations there. I’ll need to appoint a steward, assuming these lands require the bulk of my attention, and check in when I can.”
He knew it was only a half-truth. He settled Mount Tora to press back Gumiho, and she was still out there. Any serious consideration to reside in Tetsuden would need to wait.
“It makes a better place to hold court.”
Kwan half scoffed, bemused. “I suppose it would be expected of me, regardless of any lacking in enthusiasm.”
“And the girl?”
Kwan’s mind and movement stumbled at the question. He accented himself, clearing his voice of any melancholy and maintaining dignity. “When her sentence ends, she is free to choose her own way. I will not insist on her.”
“It does you good to keep humans in your household, to know the people.”
“So I’ve come to learn.” He held out his cup, quickly refilled by a servant.
A spell of silence passed. Genji stood, gesturing for Kwan to do the same.
They walked the private grounds, keeping in conversation of things to come. In a short time, they came into the parks and parted ways. Genji to his role in welcoming guests, and Kwan to take in what he’d been told.
Lord of Tetsuden.
If things were different, if they really were as he allowed them to appear, and if Hisa liked it well enough... He scoffed, chastising himself and chalking it up to having seen his old master again. The mere idea was ridiculous.
So why did he hate himself for thinking that?
It wasn’t such a ridiculous idea for his master. His heart was cold. Filled with the shame and expectations that burdened him since his last act of arrogance—a proclamation of love, of fury—and the tragedies that followed. Was he doomed to repeat his mistakes? Or was it simply wanting to live up to the legacy of Genji?
Further philosophizing stopped when he was summoned back to Genji’s apartment.
Juro, in searching for Kwan to spill his plight, exposed it to Genji.
The accusation confirmed what he’d known: her heart already held Syaoran. It wasn’t surprising, but the finality pained him. Needles in his chest, pinning muscle and pricking at his lungs and heart. Though he’d sworn not to get in the way of her happiness, and would’ve willingly handled it alone if Juro had found him first.
Now involving their host, that the offense was given by an invited guest under his roof, Kwan couldn’t quietly aside it. However, Genji’s affection couldn’t be so apparent; not voided all together, which would make the case go quickly in his favor.
The issue became all the more complicated when Urekkato found them out. As much as he wanted to signal to Hisa and Syaoran, they were too far for him to do so discretely. Hisa’s nervous action solidified the Cat prince’s claim. Unaccustomed to politics, she couldn’t have known to hold completely still and give no indication to her opinion of him; allowing time to courteously decline.
Predictably, Urekkato antagonized both ends, pulling at Hisa’s naivety and Juro’s pride. There wasn’t much Kwan could do tactfully. Distracted by his own petty distress, he needed to restrain himself until clear opportunity allowed him to act.
“As a servant,” interrupted Kwan, “and in a sentence of debt owed, Hisa is not in a position to speak with bluntness. That is a liberty enjoyed by those above her station.”
Counter after counter, Kwan resisted his urge to make heated demands of his own, for the sake of not seeing her so miserable. Then, she surprised him. Weighing in herself, and taking a modest approach, Kwan’s annoyance subsided. Impressed, he quietly conceded to himself another reality: that she was not helpless, and had courage.
“I apologize, Lord Juro, if I was unclear. I never meant to lead you into the belief of otherwise. And the truth is that I will only marry for love, and not for any benefits.”
Juro’s expression became severe in return. “Reconsider. The life of a servant is uncertain, when your lord might turn you out on a whim and poverty is prevailed onto you. As wife to a lord with lands and capital, there is no such fear. Especially if there is a son between us—then you are secured. You cannot tell me you prefer Syaoran over myself, knowing that.”
There was truth to that, though Kwan wouldn’t sit idle with a soft defamation of his own character. Before Hisa lost face, before Urekkato toyed with the circumstance, he spoke again. “It’s been well established in my house that Hisa and Syaoran share a deep affection. Are you really so surprised?”
“But what can he do for her?” demanded Juro. “He has no home, no titles, nothing to give her.”
Kwan felt a flare of indignation, needing to temper himself from haughty words. If need be, he would name Syaoran steward, regardless of principle or perception, so long as it served to nullify Juro’s point.
“That does complicate the decision,” said Urekkato, causing Kwan to hold his tongue a while longer. “I suppose the final decision falls to her father, or whoever heads her family.”
Again, Hisa surprised him, speaking up to maintain her adamant stance in an even tone. She was determined to fight her battle with dignity, rather than fly into a rage or cower, and he admired her for it.
All appreciation ceased with Urekkato’s next underhanded remark. Kwan gave a warning look, largely ignored, as his mind raced to find some new solution. He did, though at the cost of verbally admitting to the truth of the matter: that Hisa loved Syaoran.
“There is no strict ruling on a servant laying with another servant,” said Kwan. “Unless the lord of the house establishes otherwise, which I have not.”
“Then, there is no offense?” asked Genji.
“Only in pride,” said Urekkato. “Typically, this would be sorted out with a duel. First blood drawn ending the match.”
Kwan leered.
“Is that not excessive?” asked Genji.
“Surely, during Mokryon, we can overlook the matter,” said Kwan.
“I’ve invested in the engagement,” said Juro. “Now I’m to accept refusal on all sides?”
“Unless Syaoran is willing to take up a sword,” said Urekkato, smug in his expression.
Again, Kwan needed to quiet his temper. Outrage would only drive the situation into needless action to satisfy honor. It was interrupted with Hisa’s nervous outburst, forcing Kwan to reel his mind and search for what next to do to protect both her and Syaoran.
“Then do so now. My every gift to you,” demanded Juro.
Urekkato snickered. “Lord Juro demands that Hisa undress this instant?”
Kwan didn’t miss the glare from Syaoran. Of course he would want to shield her, but in this matter his speaking out might be met with steel. For both their sakes, he needed to speak first and with authority to halt haughty statements from Syaoran.
“That is an affront to me. Hisa is my attendant. I will not have my servants humiliated and made to strip publicly.”
It was enough to get Juro to reconsider. Urekkato was another matter, unyielding to Kwan’s own position. He thought his effort fast undone when Syaoran edged in.
“It’s only a shame you don’t hold that same respect for the woman you desire as your wife.”
Fool, thought Kwan. Though he couldn’t blame his friend. He was in love, and love made men heedless. It only made sense that he saw the mere suggestion as an injustice. His next words, however, further impressed Kwan.
“My Lord Genji, for your late wife, Lady Isaden, would you have behaved this way? Or you, my prince?”
Perhaps they were well suited for each other. In many ways, they were similar, and now took cues from the other in times of distress. And Kwan had to concede another truth: Syaoran loved Hisa.
