A Dance of Mist and Fury, page 58
I shrugged. “To me, it seemed obvious. Besides, you were the only one who tried to look after me when I first arrived.”
He chortled. “Two outcasts. Kwan knows how to pick them.”
Softly, I bounced my side off of him. “I’m glad I met you, Syaoran. Even if you do frustrate me a lot.”
He chuckled. “I was going to say the same exact things, but I guess I should pick something different.”
To that, I laughed.
The days following in the near week-long celebration went by more peaceably than when it started. Still, I never journeyed too far from the castle, fearing I’d lose my way or get pulled aside by a guest too liberal with wine. How anyone could learn their way around, I didn’t know.
There was so much to do and see without the additional displays and kiosks. I’d learned that I could get one free treat from a cook stand simply for being part of Lord Kwan’s house. The former student of our host, and still in close friendship, created an eagerness to appease. Kiosks with wares outside of food, however, weren’t as relaxed with their policies. I was offered a discount, though I hadn’t the money anyway, so I simply admired and didn’t dare to touch any of the lovely things.
There’d come a day when Lord Kwan and Genji sat away from the events, engaged in a game of shogi. They’d invited me to play, but, in having never played before, I was content to watch them.
Wandering one of the water gardens, I almost lamented that we’d leave the day after tomorrow. It was the last day of Mokryon, and those in the castle were expected to stay one additional day to rest from the festivities.
Newly confident, I went to every dance in the nights following my first. Always, Lord Kwan would take at least one dance with me. Syaoran, of course, did likewise to continue our rouse—and I kept fiercely close to him when I could. Even Genji took my hand in two separate dances, though he didn’t speak at all in that time. I didn’t mind. It was better than when I was made to feel obliged to accepting Urekkato and try to keep stoic in all his talking.
Most days, I kept to Syaoran’s side for hours, trying to act as a deterrent for him. He grew tired of my company somewhere in the day, separating with the assurance that he’d be fine. Often, Lord Kwan would find me and occupy my company.
When alone and walking any part of the grounds, I reveled in the quiet and the far-off chatter. There’d be stretches of time where my footsteps were the loudest thing in the area. On hearing raised voices, and not wanting to accidentally involve myself, I started to walk back the way I came. Until I recognized one voice as Beom’s.
My curiosity caused me to stop. And while I knew it was for my own good to ignore it, I couldn’t, and crept to the source of the sound. There were other voices, familiar, though I couldn’t place how I knew them. Not until I heard Kwang’s, sounding in a hurry for something. Careful, I slid the paper-paned door open only a sliver, using the strength of my finger in as slow a motion as possible.
Lord Kwan, and all of his brothers were inside, as was another man, older, who I guessed to be his father. A young woman, whom Syaoran mentioned was Lord Kwan’s sister, sat poised to the side. It was a family assembly. And while I shouldn’t have spied, I couldn’t stop my curiosity in wanting to know what the other members to Lord Kwan’s immediate family were like.
Severe, at first glance.
“And you have the nerve to willfully ignore Iseul in favor of your servant,” lectured his father, seething.
“From the first day, she’s caused a fuss,” said Seong. “Involving the newly appointed prince, as well as our host.”
“I will mind my own house,” said Lord Kwan, disinterested in heated words. “As you undoubtedly mind yours, as well as others.”
“Insolence!” spat his father, pacing.
“When Kwan doesn’t parade himself with Kurai and humans, he’s taken in the company of the Samjo girl,” said Seong.
“It seems Kwan is more interested in making a mockery of our family than any duty to our traditions,” said Beom. “He keeps himself willfully ignorant of how this also affects prospects for our sister, only just returning to society.”
“You mistake me,” said Lord Kwan. “The decision to lock Sara away was not mine. And any mockery of our family comes from onlookers, not myself.”
His father struck at him then, and my hand gripped tight to the frame of the door.
Yuz and Kwang half rose from their seats, a gesture to plead leniency as they called for their father. For the small show that it was, I felt glad; not every member of Lord Kwan’s family was against him, even if they didn’t particularly like me or Syaoran.
“I will not suffer more of your arrogance!” roared his father.
Lord Kwan, opposite, kept himself restrained.
“If it is brought to me, by her family, you will marry Iseul,” said his father. “After giving Eumeh away, this is the best opportunity you have to maintain our position in society and erase the folly of your past.”
“If the arrangement is much desired, you have other sons,” said Lord Kwan. And his father struck at him again. Rather than retaliate, or show any hint of discomfort—though I knew it must’ve caused great pain—Lord Kwan stayed stony.
“Unlike my youngest sons, the eldest remember the point for coming to Mokryon,” said his father, a growl in his voice. “You’ve given away most of your lands to Kurai, abusing your position with titling them. Iseul’s dowry alone makes up for your lacking. And it will position us better to match Sara. But only so long as you stop fraternizing with servants and take your prospects seriously!”
“That’s what all this fuss is about?” asked Lord Kwan, sarcastic amusement in his voice.
“If you challenge this, boy, I will cut you from inheritance.”
“Cut it,” said Lord Kwan, quick to answer, and gaining a unanimous look of shock.
“You would disown your family?” asked Sara, speaking at last. “Are you so eager to create a greater rift between us—for Kwang will do the same, as always, when you behave heedlessly!”
Lord Kwan said nothing, eyes locked with his father’s.
I couldn’t understand it. Why a family would treat each other with such brutality, or pressure one member into marrying before he was ready—especially given they were seemingly immortal, and hardly affected by the passing of time. What I didn’t understand most of all was why Lord Kwan allowed himself to be beaten and berated. Why didn’t he fight back, or stand up for himself? He was one of the most powerful Juneun. Not a small and timid human.
When his father brough up that black bamboo rod again, my fury took over me, and I slid the door wide open without announcement or grace.
“That’s enough!” I commanded, feeling my face turn hot. “A family is supposed to look after one another, not be at each other’s throats.”
“Hisa,” warned Lord Kwan, low in his voice.
But I couldn’t stop myself, not by choice. Rage consumed me beyond the point of reason. “Lord Kwan has done nothing to deserve this. If anything, Lord Genji and Prince Urekkato both speak very highly of him and what he’s accomplished. They say nothing about the achievements of his brothers. I’d be surprised if the prince even remembered their names.”
Lord Kwan stood then, marching towards me and taking me away from the stunned and scowling faces. In his rough motion, I saw the marks of the bamboo rod displayed on him, and only felt more righteous in my defiance, even as I was dragged off.
Away, Lord Kwan pulled me into a storeroom, bearing a severe expression, and slammed the door closed.
“You should have kept out of it,” growled Lord Kwan.
“But, they were—”
“It’s not your place!” Again, he looked at me with a rage.
I stiffened, but my own fury prevented petrification. “I couldn’t just stand by like a scared mouse and let them do that to you!”
I saw him fight to retain himself, tempering his next words. “You don’t know what you’ve done.”
I held my gaze, realizing for the first time how heavy I was breathing. Silence. Both of us trying not to lash out at each other. “Why would you let them treat you like that?”
“He’s my lord father,” said Lord Kwan. “It’s the way things are.”
“That doesn’t make it right!” I argued. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Whatever happened before you came to Mount Tora, I know you’ve made up for it.”
“You know nothing.”
“I know that whatever it was, you would try to make things right. That’s who you are. You look after all of us. In the villages and your home and everywhere you go. Even the animals and the earth.”
He tempered himself more, heaving a sigh. “You cannot go bursting into a private meeting, regardless of the reason.”
“But—”
“Hisa! This isn’t a game.”
We leered at each other, and my bold impulse had me shove him. Or, I tried. He stayed unmoved, with only his expression becoming slightly bewildered by the intent.
“You always stand up for me. For all of us! And you won’t stand up for yourself?”
Lock jawed, he worked to loosen his muscles enough to answer. “They’re my family—”
“They’re bullies! And no matter who it is, don’t ask me to stand by and watch them hurt you. I won’t do it. Even if it was my own father and brothers, I won’t just sit there and let it happen!”
“Hisa, stop!”
I obeyed. Not out of fear, but from my own breathlessness.
“You have no idea what trouble you could’ve caused. Things are different here. And I’ve spoiled you too much for you to know that.” He looked down and away.
My heart dropped. “Of course I don’t know,” I whispered, still seething. “There’s a lot about the Juneun nobility I know nothing about. But, what I do know is that no one should have to suffer needless ire. Or be belittled for the mistakes they’ve made in the past and tried to atone for.”
For a long time, he was silent. “I’m not sure I can atone for everything I’ve done. Whether or not you believe me, my father has every reason to still hold scorn against me. I don’t expect you to understand it all.”
“Maybe I don’t want to understand!” I snapped. “Why would I want to give sympathy to someone so cruel to their own son?”
“Hisa,” said Lord Kwan, meeting my eye with a tone of finality. “That is enough.”
It was enough to make me shy from haughty words, but not dissuade me entirely. I dropped my gaze and quieted. “You took up a sword against your brother for me. If it was my father beating on me, and my brothers berating me, would you do nothing?”
“That’s not the same, Hisa,” said Lord Kwan with a lingering irritation.
“Then explain to me how it is different!” I shot my sight back on him, scowling. Not for long, however. His saddened expression tore at me. “Tell me why I can’t fight for someone who’s important to me.”
He stared. “Hisa...”
I hugged my arms around myself, my heart heavy and my head throbbing, and I looked away.
He went on with a sigh. “You’re still that girl who ran up the mountain.”
I shook my head. “I want to be better than I was back then. To be able to do more than just sob and beg.”
He lifted my chin in his hand, a single, swift motion that demanded my attention. “Hisa. You’re fine just as you are.”
“Then why do I feel so useless?” I countered, now punishing myself. “To the point where I try to protect you and end up needing you to save me.”
His hint of a smile returned. “I appreciate that you want to fight for me. That’s already more than most Juneun women are willing to do. Even with magic at their disposal.”
I tried to smile back for him, failing. And I couldn’t tell if he was angry and trying to put me at ease so that I would stop my arguing, or if he sincerely meant it. So, I stared into his eyes, searching for some clue to help me better understand him in that moment. When he started to leave, letting me go, I clung.
“What is it?”
I hesitated, but they’d said as much in all the arguing that he wasn’t engaged. I shut my eyes, counting, and looked at him a last time while my courage was still present. “Kiss me?”
His perplexed expression returned; keeping still, he studied me, trying to read me.
I started to let go. Maybe I was wrong, and his decline of who his family preferred was because he’d found someone else that they disapproved of. “If you don’t... don’t want—you don’t have to. It’s fine.”
His fingers slid under my chin again, turning my cheek, and he placed a kiss at the center of my forehead.
The perfect gesture. And I felt myself unburdened from my own upset.
Chapter 63
Lord Kwan XVI
Kwan remembered it clearly. The morning Syaoran ran up to him, behaving not as himself, and demanded a private conversation. His mind had gone blank of everything else in hearing the most important part of the exchange: she hadn’t given away her heart. Not yet. It’d been a rouse against Juro’s continued advance.
It required all his will to not rush out to find her. No... That was too forward. A thundering tiger would only scare a magpie into flight. It was different with her. While a lady of court would be dazzled by a dramatic declaration, he couldn’t expect her to accept the gesture simply because it came from himself and not Juro.
There was also to consider how she described the sort of man she would never give her heart to, and if she categorized him that way. He’d need more subtlety to see where her affection for him ended, and if it was only a fondness.
The wisteria tree made for an excellent excuse. He’d compared her to it before, and perhaps the memory would help him to make her understand his feelings. She liked the idea of it, or the imagery, at least. Though, there seemed a sadness and a sort of rejection when he asked her opinion. Any lady would have guessed he referred to herself with those sorts of questions and become giddy. Hisa dismissed it, placing the standing inquiry to a third party, or otherwise not counting herself as a possibility.
In an effort to repair any awkward feeling, he brought her to the flame behind the falls. The tension eased, distracting from previous conversation. Too much so. He’d been caught off guard by a more personal question. While he knew she meant it innocently, his instinct was to hold suspicion and cut off all inquiry.
But she was Hisa. Not Gumiho. Not a greedy woman sifting out what aesthetic would best compliment her or that she could use to her full advantage. Hisa satisfied herself with a vague description, asking nothing particular after; he’d slipped too much in his tongue.
Nor was she empty headed, understanding, to an extent, his meaning for delighting her in an impromptu excursion.
He comprehended better that she felt a friendship only with him. Or, so he thought.
“Kiss me?”
He stared, desperately wanting to understand. It didn’t matter how she’d dressed or styled her hair, or whether she hid behind a cosmetic. Her dark-brown eyes, lined with thick lashes were always Hisa. He wanted to pull her in with animalistic fervor, to let the action be his expression.
No.
He would only frighten her as Juro had. Above all else, he didn’t want to be the source of her fears, still hating himself for the night she bolted away. Were a thousand arrows pointed at her, he’d take them all. Even if she didn’t love him in return.
Outside the cavern, he was reminded why he felt so strongly for her. Her tenderness towards the things that could never repay her. Unrivaled in genuine forgiveness and understanding—not in complex social orders, but at the core of things. A giver. Wholehearted and sincere.
He wanted to say it then and there, that he loved her, that it was her he wanted to take vows with beneath the old wisteria tree. But there was too much in the way. Not least of all that she saw herself as a servant first.
“A real kiss.”
Despite his joke, his heart picked up.
She began to fumble, and he feared she would reconsider. Soft, warm, and perfectly imperfect Hisa. She reciprocated his gesture, emboldening him to mischief.
“Are you going to ask for another kiss?”
Her face twisted to surprised offense. But something about the stark expression endeared him. “Lord Kwan!”
“Lady Hisa.” He tried the title onto her, wanting to know if she discerned his meaning.
The entirety of her changed as a result. “Don’t call me that...”
A needle of guild pricked inside his chest. Desperate, he persisted. She chastised herself in response, and he was no better off in knowing her feelings.
Fondness. That’s all it was.
In the second night of Mokryon, he’d decided on consoling himself with a dance. It wasn’t so unusual for a master to take his favorite servant, or for friends to engage each other.
“Wouldn’t you rather be dancing with the girl you’re in love with?”
Again, he found himself surprised by her assumptions.
“You were gone last night. And under the wisteria, I thought... Aren’t you in love with one of the ladies here?”
That was it. A distancing based on a misunderstanding. He felt a relief in knowing she didn’t jealously hold on to her thoughts, and new hope swelled that he might be able to properly learn of her feelings.
In their escape from the crowds, and the following conversation, he tested.
“You should know by now that I prefer your company. And I wanted to make sure you indulged in some fun, considering the rough start.”
For a while, she gave no response. Had he pressed too far? Made her uncomfortable? It was all the more difficult, given their stations to one another, but had he made it impossible?
“Thank you,” said Hisa in a sweet tone, quiet as it was.
And Kwan didn’t know his answer.
