A Dance of Mist and Fury, page 75
“It must’ve cost a fortune. You’re sure you want to give it to me?”
I stood. “Try it on. If it’s too snug, I can fix it and bring it back.”
“You know how?”
“It’s something I learned while up the mountain.”
Fumei forced on a smile. “I remember you could scarce lengthen sleeves.”
Chapter 85
Brothers
The dress nearly fit Fumei, though was snug at her chest. It didn’t take me more than a few days to correct it, and I was impressed with how much my skill improved to make it look almost seamless.
I’d insisted on teaching my brothers to read each night, reluctant as they were. I couldn’t blame them after a day of laboring. But I wanted us to start so that it became more natural when winter arrived. There’d be less to do, leaving more time to keep inside where it was warm.
It took time for me to get used to village life again, reminding myself to go into the forest for fruits and other foraging finds. Koji shadowed my every move, perfectly happy in the goings on. If ever he spotted something, he’d stand with a raised paw and wagging tail, pointing as he waited for me to say whether or not to fetch it. Having him made meals heartier more often than not. He’d become a fine hunting dog, and a loyal friend.
Raeden grew particularly fond of him during a hunt. We’d crossed paths, and Koji chased out a goral in line for Raeden’s arrow, barking at the downed animal. It was a stocky enough creature that we could cure a lot of the meat to hold through a good chunk of winter, and he rewarded the dog with pieces as he field dressed the beast. Not wanting to waste, I hurried to empty my basket into my shirt, and use it to carry any of the organs I knew how to cook. I kept careful so as to not crush the pouch containing Kwan’s soul, or to ruin the thread around my finger.
While Raeden wanted to bring Koji with him, now that autumn was here, he didn’t listen to my brother. Raeden was still more a stranger than anything to the dog.
We walked home together, Raeden carrying our prize on his shoulders while I took his bow and quiver in tandem with my basket. Walking up to the house, I was horrified. Juro was there, speaking with Kenta. My eldest brother stood tall, arms crossed, and I could only imagine the conversation.
“What’s going on?” asked Raeden.
Juro looked over, watching us approach, and painted on a pleasant smile.
Before Kenta said a word to influence any thought, I spoke up. “Lord Juro is a Juneun. A friend to my intended, Lord Kwan.”
Juro’s smile fell.
Both Kenta and Raeden questioned.
“As I told Hisato, I plan to accept Kwan’s proposal when I return to his house.”
Clear confusion sprawled on Kenta’s face. “Then... Why is he asking for father’s approval of an engagement?”
“I don’t know,” I said, level and dignified. “He’d previously told me we ought to be strangers to each other unless I changed my mind in refusing him.” I turned my gaze to Juro. “I have not.”
A silent unease set over us. Revealing Kwan’s soft proposal stole Juro’s usual argument of what he could provide by compare.
“When was this proposal?” asked Juro.
I was about to expose Kwan’s folly, stopping when I remembered what he’d said about my status. I couldn’t say it was in winter, that he’d pledged himself by drinking from his family’s sacred well. “The day of my return. When I would not be obligated to accept him and could deny him fully. He asked, and I agreed on the condition that I can make sure my family will be alright with my absence.”
Juro pursed his lips, thinking. “Will your family approve an engagement to your jailor?”
An anger rose in me. Using an underhanded term to influence my family’s opinion. I wanted to take something away from him, to lash out somehow that favored me—that I’d already lain with Kwan, and stolen any wedding rite. But I couldn’t. It’d only vilify us both.
Before I could come up with a counter, my father walked up with Hisato, fishing poles in hand and a catch in their fish basket. Juro made his greeting with high respect, timing it before I could say my piece. He reiterated his reason for coming to my father, who looked between us and weighed what was said.
“Go inside, Hisa,” said father.
“But, Baba—”
“Now, Hisa.”
I obeyed, hearing the seriousness of his tone. Raeden joined me, only to set down his hunting prize. He too, bid me to stay inside, promising to handle things. But I couldn’t help myself, coming as close as I dared to listen in.
A back and forth ensued, with my brothers expressing their distrust and Juro boasting about what he could provide, including a bride price. I held fast to the thread on my finger, praying. Hisato stepped to my defense, declaring that I was not something to be sold. Juro ignored him, keeping his attention to father, assuring him of all the splendor of things guaranteed to care for me.
Continuing his attempt to persuade my father (who’d yet to say a thing), he promised a high position in his house to Kenta, and schooling for either Raeden or Hisato, adding that he would send a maid here to look after my father and remaining brother.
Without seeing any of their faces, I could tell it was harder for my brothers to argue against the idea. A Juneun with wealth who could take care of me and all my wants, who could lift my family out of poverty almost overnight, and send a small annual tribute to keep my father’s house stocked through winter. He made it sound so wonderful. A life of ease. And all it would cost is my father’s consent to give me to him.
My gut sank and stung, fearing he’d made a superior impression than Kwan before I could explain things. Fingers folding into a fist, the thread dug into my skin as I prayed more desperately. Then, to my surprise, my father refused it.
“One Juneun took my daughter from us for five long years. I will not suffer another Juneun so entitled to take her from me forever.”
Juro argued against my father’s cold words, trying to appeal enough for him to reconsider. When that didn’t work, he brought up the rumors about my reputation, and how he, unlike anyone else who knew them, held no prejudice. He promised my father that I would be treated kindly, lavishly, all the right things to say.
“Hisa will stay here, where she belongs,” said father. “There’s not a promise or price in all of heaven that will convince me to hand over my daughter while I still breathe.”
Juro frowned, saying something in return. I missed it entirely, trying to shush Koji as he complained and pawed at me.
The following weeks were quiet between us. I kept busy in pickling and preserving and trying to teach my brothers. Absently, in praising Raeden’s learning, I mentioned how it wouldn’t be long before I returned up the mountain.
“No,” said father.
I stopped, staring at him.
“You’re not going back. You will stay here, with your family.”
“I told Kwan that I would come back to accept his proposal.”
He gave me a stern look. “No.”
Stunned, the next words fell out of my mouth without thought. “But, why—?”
“That beast took you from us once. Never again.”
“But he’s already—”
“If you like a man from one of the villages, and he asks, maybe. Not a spirit. Juneun or otherwise.”
“Baba, you don’t understand,” I pled. “Kwan’s not a cruel person. He’s protected us from Kurai, and makes sure the earth is fertile to hold harvests—he doesn’t have control over droughts and floods, but he tries to look after all of us! He cured us of the pox that ravaged the villages. Remember how I’d said to you that I thought I saw someone come in our house and heal us? It was Kwan!”
My father slammed his palm down. “I’m not losing my daughter again. That’s final!”
Hurt. In my heart, I understood his perspective, but to be so ignored... I left for my room, trying to hold back tears until I was alone. It wasn’t the same as standing my ground against Fumei’s mother, or Juro, or Seong. This was my father.
I didn’t know how long I laid there on my pillow, sobbing and staring at the red thread on my finger. Long enough for the fervor to fade. Kenta crept into my room, taking a seat beside me.
“Hisa?”
Tired, I used what strength I had to clear up my face and look at him.
“You know father didn’t say that to be cruel. He said it out of fear.”
I nodded, unable to do much else, and dropped my gaze.
“During the last five years, we didn’t know what was happening or if you were alright.” He took my hand in his, giving a firm squeeze. “We thought he killed you. Then that maybe he brought you into his bed, put you through some kind of neglect. Father worried so much that he kept falling sick.”
My eyes darted back to him, new concern running through my thoughts.
“The way he sees it—the way I still see it—he took you from us, and kept away any news. Raeden worried so much that he said he was going to steal you back. And Hisato was distraught that entire first year, even after. And I felt I’d failed. I couldn’t protect my sister. My only sister. The one who looked after me when she was still a child herself. I failed...”
I couldn’t bear to see my brother so upset, and threw my arms over his shoulders. “You didn’t.”
He held tight to me. “I didn’t know that. I didn’t know anything for those five years.”
When we did let go of each other, a new understanding filled the space.
Kenta reached around himself, presenting me with a bundle. “I know you told Raeden that we should sell these things, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” It was my canvas and paintbrush, among other assorted art supplies. “I didn’t want to get rid of it, in case it was all we’d have left.”
I looked from the collection of second-hand things, to my brother, and back. While I was angry that he put himself into more hardship in holding on to these things, my heart was touched that he kept them.
“Do you really love him?” asked Kenta, stealing my attention. “That Juneun on the mountain?”
I looked to my finger first, then back, nodding. “Things in Juneun society are different, sometimes hard to understand. But Kwan is a kind person. He genuinely wants to help and be useful. He even tried to wait until the day I would leave before expressing his feelings for me. But, I didn’t know and tried to express my own before then. It happened in a clumsy and wonderful way, but it happened. Both of us too afraid to say anything for a long time, and thinking the other wanted someone else, until it all came bursting forward.”
“You like him that much? Even though he jailed you?”
“I know it sounds weird. It sounds like I’m stupid for falling for a man who sentenced me to be a servant. I think it was inconvenient for him. He doesn’t have a prison or a dungeon, and I was in his way a lot that first year. Then I started to understand him, and why he did things the way he did. We started to become friends. He was the one who taught me all the things I’m teaching to you now.”
“That seems like a leap.”
“It didn’t happen right away. Looking back, it seems fast, but it took the span of years before we fell in love.”
“And you’re sure that’s how you feel?”
I nodded. “I am. I love him, Kenta.”
“Then why didn’t he come down like that other Juneun?”
“He didn’t want to get in my way, or present like he was trying to bully father into approval. How would it look if he came down right as I was free to come home?”
“And if you decided to stay here instead?”
“He wouldn’t come after me if I wanted to stay.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know him.”
Kenta sighed, looking directly at me. “I know you used to think no one would want to marry you. I want to be sure you’re not agreeing to this spirit out of desperation. I don’t want you to be miserable, Hisa. You’re my sister. I want to see you happy in life.”
I shook my head. “Juro, the spirit that came here, had made proposals and advances. But I refused him. I couldn’t stand to think about being trapped in a marriage with someone who assumed my obligations and ignored my discomfort.”
Kenta blinked at me.
“What’s that face for?”
“I’ve just never heard you speak like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like... how I imagine a princess would speak.”
I laughed.
“You’re sure he’ll make you happy?”
“I know that he’ll try.” It didn’t seem enough to convince Kenta. “Would you have made Fumei happy?”
He went rigid, turning his gaze and shying into shame.
“You want me to be happy, meanwhile you were willing to marry a girl you didn’t love to protect her.”
“That’s different.”
“No, it’s not. I know about the rumors while I was away. And I wasn’t able to defend against them. Now there’s the rumor about you and Fumei, and you wanted to make them go away at the cost of your own happiness. But Fumei refused. She didn’t want you to be miserable either.” Hearing myself say it all aloud, I realized. “It must’ve taken a lot of courage.”
Uncomfortable, Kenta tried to explain his side. “I didn’t think about how it looked. I was trying to do the right thing. And when I was accused, I tried to correct it. When I couldn’t, I asked her to marry me, because everyone else thought so badly of us. Everyone said we should, to make things right.”
“Everyone in Kwan’s service said the same thing about me. That I ought to accept Juro’s proposal and go along with whatever advance he wanted. A poor, ugly, naïve, village girl. How many opportunities would I get at a decent man, let alone a wealthy Juneun who can make the trees bear fruit year-round if he wished? I was ridiculed for refusing. Other maids talked about how they wouldn’t hesitate to say yes, even though they didn’t like him at all.”
“They really tried to make you do that?”
“Well... a lot of them tried to convince me. But, in my heart, I couldn’t. And sometimes I would feel guilty for my decision. Saying yes would’ve done so much for all of us, and saying no for my own happiness was selfish. It would eat away at me.”
“And you fell in love after?”
“Long after. Kwan and I were newly friends when Juro started making his intentions known—going so far as to tell others we were already engaged, even though I’d either not given an answer, or refused him.”
Kenta awed, taking the story in. “You and Fumei. Despite what everyone else says would be best, you made up your own minds. If Fumei saying no to me took courage, what did it take for you to make your own decision?”
Admittedly, I felt a wash of pride. “It wasn’t easy.”
“If you truly love this other Juneun, then let me speak with father when you’re ready to go.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “You’ve looked after us since you were nine. The women in the village used to chew us out when we complained. And we started to appreciate that you tried. When you were gone, we realized just how much you’d taken on. No amount of old paintbrushes and scratched canvases can repay all you’ve done.”
“I always loved when you would bring me something, even if it was falling apart. Sometimes I felt so frustrated and lost, hopeless; having that small reward from you helped me to keep going, to keep trying.”
Kenta smiled. “I suppose we’ll have to learn how to fend for ourselves. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck here.”
Chapter 86
In the City
Through winter, Kenta took my instruction more seriously, encouraging Raeden and Hisato to do likewise. While they practiced, keeping near the firepit, I worked to put together new clothes for them and weave sandals, useful things.
Often, I’d look to the mountain, or to the red thread, wondering about Kwan. How was he spending the solstice? Did something come up to drag him away and into the cold? If he missed me always sitting beside him while he worked on some matter, or was he relieved? He had a household to look after him if he became too engrossed in something, but I still worried for that too.
Which is why I found myself happily surprised to discover a small, wrapped, gift with a tag bearing his handwriting.
For Hisa
I held that piece of paper close to my heart, the pouch containing his soul wedged in between. He remembered.
Inside, one of the shells I’d found on the beaches near Bitgaram. One of the few intact, a scallop with a pretty, pink hue to its outside, and shining nacre inside. He’d polished the nacre, making it more brilliant, and fastened a pearl to that side, petite and perfectly round. A thin, gold chain was strung through it. A necklace. It must’ve been costly, but I loved it. I loved that he thought to use a memory to make the gift—something I’d chosen for myself. Immediately, I put it on, promising to wear it every day and take care not to be clumsy enough that it broke by accident.
Through the rest of winter, I’d look at that necklace, and to the thread around my finger, staring out my window to the mountain before the dark of night made it impossible to see. More than once, I caught the shimmer of a white doe walking soundlessly through the snowfall, leaving as I cleared my eyes of the stinging, cold air.
In spring, when the ground thawed enough, my brothers spent more time away from the house to hunt and work the fields. I said nothing of my continued plan, not wanting to upset father and put him into a state. Coming home, Kenta continued to try learning, encouraging our other brothers to keep at it as well.
One method of practice, to keep my brothers’ interest, was in relaying the prices of goods made new. And of more mechanical processes like fermentation of otherwise ordinary plants. Things like flower cultivation didn’t hold their attention until I mentioned how high ladies spend small fortunes in redesigning their gardens.
Hisato liked the stories I’d brought to read, the one about a lone warrior with a code of honor in particular. Though none of my brothers cared for the poetry, it was something to help them improve the skill.
