Forty days after the death of the Castle of the
Sea, a man claiming the name Jitani Dmitri presents himself to the Royal
Council and reads an ultimatum.
To the Royal Council of Komaru,
Hundreds of years ago, long before the dawn of this
wounded age, the Jitani family stood among you, shoulder to shoulder with the
Great Families of Komaru. Orange and black, our Wandering Star banner flew over
lands from Umenoeda in the north to Yukimori in the south. In those days, the
Great Families and the Crown made no pretense of Komaru being anything save
what it is: a crucible, forged to create angels and demons from the souls of
humanity. "Civil war" was not a threat, for the Great Families of
Komaru had never been at peace. Day in, day out, they honed their skills and
courage as they prepared themselves for the days when the world would end.
You have forgotten those days.
We have not.
For more than an age, we have slept, only to awaken
and find the kingdom we departed weak and fearful. After our first few
tentative steps revealed the depths to which you have fallen in our absence, we
came to understand something: the Heart of Komaru is no more. It has been
ripped out and consumed by your "Prophet," leaving behind the
derelict shell of a once-proud kingdom. While we have slumbered, you have been
left to suffer and die, newborn and lonely in an unfamiliar age.
Children of the sky, your adolescence ends now. For
two hundred years you have suffered without guidance, without comprehension of
the world you inhabit. We shall no longer let you linger in ignorance, for it
does not become you. Two months ago, we sought to do this through peace,
through diplomacy, and found ourselves rebuffed and insulted by bawling infants
who felt they knew better than we what we wanted.
They were wrong.
We have punished them for their insolence, and we
regret only that we could not do more to demonstrate to them that, had they
simply embraced the chance to demonstrate maturity, they could have been
exalted instead.
Now we come instead to you, heirs of those who were
falling from favor even before we slept. Now is your chance to demonstrate that
you are not children, that you recognize power, that you comprehend the dance
of threat and gift and can take your first trembling steps towards adulthood.
In a year, we will emerge from the Plains of
Crystal and lay claim to everything within three days' ride of it. We will not,
of course, displace the native peasants from their homes, nor will we remove
barons from their holdings. But all others – viscounts, counts, marquises,
dukes – must depart their manors at once, leaving them vacant for their
appointed replacements. While we thank the Sone, the Bellatrix, and the
Touraine for their time as caretakers of our lands, we need them no longer. In
the south, the Jitani banner will fly again, and only children, blind to the
world they dwell within, would stand against this.
Know that what your Church tells you is no lie: the
Cycle of Ages is ended.
Take our hands and let us show you what lies
beyond.
The missive is unsigned, save for a simple wax seal
bearing the image of a falling star. When he finishes reading it, he bows, and,
with a crooked smile, surrenders himself to the waiting Royal Guards.
Nocturnal Minuet
Emerald Touraine pressed himself against the trunk
of the great tree and watched Marius Komaru's slow ascent into its branches.
Emerald ground his teeth in annoyance as his rival, his pale skin still starkly
visible in the new moon's darkness, bounded monkey-like from branch to branch,
shaking a rain of autumn foliage down onto his head. If Marius' haste gave them
away, Emerald reflected, he might yet be able to escape and leave the Komaru to
face the prince's guards. Carefully, he brushed three golden leaves from his
tailored black jerkin, checked his mask, and dug his fingers into the bark of
the tree to prepare for his own climb.
As his gloved hands searched for purchase, he felt
a curious regularity in the bark. Glancing upwards, he saw that Marius had not
reached the limb where he was to perch and wait while Emerald climbed. Lacking
any other entertainment, he inquisitively probed the regularity with a
fingertip and squinted at it. His index finger traced a rising slash broken by
a crossbar; at its peak it met a descending slash, it too bisected by the
crossbar. Through the gloom, he made out another blemish beside it, a vertical
line connected on its right side by two diagonals, one rising, one falling.
"AK," he murmured, glancing up again at the imposing walls of the
estate he sought entrance to.
From above, he heard a quiet hoot, and looked up to
see that Marius was atop the deceptively thin branch that dangled over a
graceful balcony on the manor's third floor. Then he heard Marius' thin hiss:
"Stop daydreaming and get up here. I'm not waiting for you." Inch by
inch, Marius began worming his way along the length of the branch.
Emerald gritted his teeth and gripped the tree's
bark. On his first jump, he missed the oak's lowest branch and dropped to the
ground, acorns and dry leaves crunching beneath his feet. For a panicked
moment, he felt certain he had given himself away. He huddled in the tree's
veiling shadow, heart pounding loud enough to drown out a guard's approaching
footsteps. But when a minute passed and no shout of alarm came, he made a
second attempt, and this time his fingers found better purchase, enough to
launch himself up and grasp his target. Panting, he wrapped his arms around the
sturdy bough and pulled himself atop it.
Above him, he heard Marius snicker. Emerald
resisted the urge to snap a retort at him: he knew he was more agile than his
rival, but Marius' greater height had helped him start his climb without
missing the lower branch. There was no helping it; he had to concentrate on
climbing, and ignore all annoyances – particularly those of the Komaru sort.
Twelve minutes later, after waiting out their
second guard patrol of the night, Emerald reached the bough that overarched the
balcony. He took a deep breath to steady himself and looked out along the
branch. He was just in time to see Marius grin insolently at him, release the
branch, and drop out of sight. The branch swayed, and as Emerald clung to it he
heard the hollow thump of Marius' impact on the balcony, and an accompanying
grunt. He froze, his blood running cold at the noise. From the gate of the
manor, around the other side from the tree, he heard the creak of a metal gate
being opened, and the movement of what he presumed to be a guard. Distant
booted steps echoed in the night air, drawing nearer and nearer to where the
two young men hid. Emerald held his breath; from the balcony, he heard nothing
but silence. The footsteps stopped somewhere beneath him; he estimated the
guard to be ten yards or less from the tree. He fancied he could hear him
breathing.
A minute passed, and then another. Emerald felt his
lungs start to ache, and held his body deathly still, praying that Marius was
smart enough to do the same. The still night air carried the sounds of Komaru
City up to the hilltop: the rustle of conversation, the creak of buildings, the
neigh of horses. He heard movement beneath him, and then almost gave himself
away by sighing in relief as the booted footsteps receded beneath him and
retired to the gatehouse, which closed with a whine and a clang. On the
balcony, he heard Marius chuckle and begin moving. Biting his lip, he heaved
his body atop the bough and began to navigate its length.
For parts of his climb, he had a clear view of the
balcony; for others, it vanished entirely from his sight. As he clambered
through side branches and did his best to ignore the limb's ominous swaying, he
watched Marius slip a thin knife from his boot. Creeping past a spray of dying
leaves that blocked his view, he watched Marius cut away the thin paper upper
half of the shoji panel that separated the balcony from the interior bedroom.
Then, dangling on the thin end of the branch, he had to concentrate on
climbing, and so only heard Marius clamber over the cut panel and into the
bedroom beyond.
While the idea of breaking into Lucien Skye
Komaru's estate to liberate one of his daughters had originally been Emerald's,
he knew in his heart that it had no chance of success until Marius discovered a
secret route into the prince's well-guarded manor. When pressed, Marius had
confessed that he had not personally explored the route he proposed; when
pressed further after being plied with fine Touraine wine, he had further
confessed that his mother had told him about it, and that for all she knew, it
might have been sealed in the thirty-six years since she was an adolescent. But
a week later, Marius had scouted the manor, bringing his young brother Yuki to
meet with his hated fiancée Victoria Skye Komaru, and had confirmed that the
ancient oak, groomed for a hundred years into a wind-gnarled shape, yet dangled
its boughs over an unidentified balcony in the prince's manor. For Marius and
Emerald, the tree was the messenger of destiny itself: neither would dare
suggest the plan be aborted simply because they did not know how, once inside,
they would find the object of their mutual affection, or even who resided in
the bedroom they would enter.
And yet, when the sharp, hostile murmur of a
woman's voice reached Emerald's precarious perch from the balcony below,
Emerald found himself wondering just how he had tricked himself into such a
ridiculous escapade. Marius answered the woman in the honeyed tone he reserved
for charming innocent ladies, provoking a disbelieving answer. Emerald knew it
was only a matter of time before Marius did something stupid; he had to stop
him.
Risking a glance down at the balcony, Emerald saw
that Marius was inside the bedroom, and that the slit of cut paper dangled
loosely in place, hiding most of the balcony from those inside the room. For
once, he was glad he was smaller and lighter than Marius; quickly, he pulled
himself farther along the length of the branch than Marius had dared go, his
weight dragging it down to rest on the tiled ceiling of the prince's estate.
Then, taking a deep breath, he flipped over the branch to dangle over what he
hoped was only a ten foot drop to a balcony, not a forty foot drop to packed
earth. As he craned his neck to look, he felt the branch shift against the tile
roof. In less than a heartbeat, his hold on the branch slipped free, and then
he began to fall.
His knees buckled as he hit the balcony feet-first,
sending nails of pain into his calves, but he clamped his jaws shut, smothering
his gasp. From within the bedroom, he heard the woman's voice snarl, "What
was that?"
Marius confidently answered, "The racing of my
heart as I contemplate your beauty, cousin mine, and nothing more."
The woman made a choking noise. "I find myself
doubting your story, cousin. I think it's another burglar, because if you have
fallen in love with me as you claim, I cannot possibly imagine why you would
have brought someone else along."
"My dear Helena," Emerald heard Marius
whisper boldly, "I assure you that no-one of any import accompanies me.
Please, just—you need not run me through. I will back up, as you command. But
you will find nothing you need concern yourself with outside."
Helena, sounding unconvinced, growled, "I'll
be the judge of that." Emerald heard footsteps, and then the sound of the
bolt sealing the balcony's sliding panel being thrown open. He ducked into the
corner of the balcony as the door slid towards him, hoping he was crouched out
of the woman's sight.
He saw a flicker of movement in the doorway, a
dark-haired woman's head peeking cautiously out before retreating back into the
room. "I told you," Marius said from inside. "Now, may I resume
my compliments? Even scarce-awakened and with a blade in hand, you are
beautiful, and only made more so by the way your gauzy nightgown clings to
your—"
"Shut up," Helena said, embarrassed now
as well as angry. Emerald heard her step towards the door, and then halfway out
onto the balcony. Without thought, he launched himself at her. His blood
singing with adrenaline, he clamped one hand over her mouth and used the other
to catch her left wrist and twist it behind her back. His hand muffled her
startled shriek as she kicked at him, and Marius leaped at her as well,
grabbing at the short rapier she wielded. There was a quick scuffle, and
Emerald felt her yank his mask away even as he shoved her into her room towards
her bed. Marius wrested the rapier out of her other hand just as Emerald
wrenched her arm behind her back and sent her whimpering to her knees in pain.
In a blink of an eye, Marius reversed the rapier and laid it against her throat.
"I'm so sorry, cousin," Marius murmured
apologetically, "but your first impression was correct. I am indeed up to
no good."
Emerald glared at Marius briefly, then whispered,
"But, if you cooperate, neither you nor any member of your household need
suffer. We aren’t here to hurt anyone – only to free someone held against her
will." Emerald felt her body stiffen in comprehension. "I think you
understand."
Marius grinned. "Although, had I known you
were as lovely as you are before I gave my heart elsewhere—" Emerald
cleared his throat, and Marius chuckled. "Sorry, sorry. We'll be tying you
up now, my dear. If you don't try to fight, you'll be fine." He started to
unwind one of many lengths of cloth wrapped around his arms, and Helena shoved
her body hard against Emerald, nearly bowling him over.
Emerald twisted Helena's arm, but her abrupt lunge
had knocked him off balance. Just as she seemed poised to break free, she
gasped faintly, her body stiffening. Marius grimly stated, "Helena, I'm
not trying to make this difficult." Emerald saw something dark across the
edge of Marius' sword as he drew it back. "She's a grown girl, and you
can't keep her here against her will. I will kill you to save her, but I don't
want to. Do what's best for everyone, Helena. You know who I am, and you know
the family's rules. You have nothing to gain by resisting me."
Helena's body seemed as rigid as wood as Marius
locked his golden eyes with her own. Emerald dropped a knee to the ground and
steadied himself, tightening his hold on her. Then, just as suddenly as her
attack, she went limp, inclining her head in surrender. Marius nodded, and
Emerald lifted his hand from her mouth. With a harsh sigh, she whispered,
"What a fortunate girl she is, to have such heroic saviors."
Stung by her bitterness, Emerald moved to silence
her again, but Marius shook his head. "She'll cooperate now." Almost
apologetically, he passed Emerald the cloth gag.
Working together, the two young men bound their
captive and pulled her back into her bed. Helena made no effort to resist,
affording Emerald with his first good look at her. He guessed her to be in her
mid-thirties, and still attractive despite being nearly twice his age and
disheveled from their struggle. By her wavy red hair and blue eyes, she could have
been a Touraine, but her pale skin and lush curves hinted that the blood
flowing from the scratch across her throat could be traced to the Sone. As
Emerald studied her, she sullenly lifted her head to meet his gaze, and Emerald
saw that her blood-soaked nightgown clung to her bosom, slickly outlining her
shapely breasts. He felt a flush of shame as he gaped at her, and turned away.
To Marius, he whispered, "Shouldn't we do something about her wound?"
Marius held up his hand, revealing a long, bloody
slash. "I have problems of my own – I had to catch her blade while you
were showing off your wrestling prowess."
Emerald sighed, and collected his mask off the
floor. Putting it on comfortably had taken an hour, and he despaired at
replacing it. It would have to serve in another way. Doing his best to ignore
her hostile expression, he pressed the makeshift bandage against her neck.
"It's, um, only a scratch," he told her. "It's not bleeding all
that much," he added lamely, his eyes straying again to her breasts. As he
realized what he was doing, his face grew warm, and he tore his eyes away.
Through her gag, he heard the woman grunt something uncomplimentary.
By the time he staunched her bleeding, Marius had
finished binding his hand, and started watching him with a mocking expression.
Emerald stammered, "So, um, maybe we can ask her to tell us where to find
the right bedroom."
Marius chuckled acidly, eyes flicking from Emerald
to Helena and back again. "I should've guessed a Touraine would like his
women tied up." He tilted his head to study Helena without embarrassment.
"How about it? Care to tell us where to find our quarry? It'll make things
easier on you."
Helena answered with an obscene gesture, and Marius
chuckled again. "I'll tell you what, my dear. I think our lady is not the
only bird held in a cage here. If you cooperate, I'll put in a word with my
mother. I know it's late, but you could still be more than a governess, Helena
Sone."
Beneath the gag, Helena's face contorted in shock
before she clenched her eyes tightly shut. After a moment, Emerald saw a tear
trickle down her cheek. Limply, she pointed to the door to her room, and then
to the left. Then she held up three fingers, and gestured to the right.
Marius inclined his head to her. "Thank you,
my lady. You should sleep now." He leaned over to kiss her cheek and wipe
the tear away, and then pulled her blankets over her. Emerald's stomach roiled
in faint nausea as Marius soothingly added, "Sweet dreams," followed
by a wink.
With Helena in her bed and quiet, Marius picked her
sword back up while Emerald oiled the bolt on her door and worked it open.
Together, they slipped stealthily into the dark hall outside Helena's room,
following her directions. As Emerald drifted across the polished wooden floor, he
admired the impeccable taste with which the hall had been furnished. He
recognized three of the wall scrolls as works of the master calligrapher Sone
Eiko, and saw a low settee carved of mahogany and upholstered in cloth shot
through with gold placed to admire a half-dozen paintings executed by Touraine
masters. Whatever else could be said about him, Emerald reflected enviously,
Lucien Skye Komaru did not lack an appreciation for beauty.
The third door on the right proved to be another
paneled shoji frame. With a flick of his knife, Marius slit the screen, slipped
his hand inside, and slid the bolt free. Emerald held his breath at the slight
squeak of metal against metal, followed by the rustle of the door being opened.
Then, glowering at the ridiculous grin of triumph on his rival's face, Emerald
watched Marius slip into Verity Touraine's bedroom.
Emerald 's heart raced as he followed Marius
inside. He knew he was a fool: one after another he had fallen in love with
Lucien Skye Komaru's exquisite, accomplished daughters, knowing full well that
they were the enemies of his house and his kingdom. Even had they not been his
enemies, he, a mere page, would not have known how to court the daughter of a
prince. But then he heard from his mother that Glory Touraine had refused to
provide her only Touraine daughter with a coming-of-age celebration, and that
the girl had begged Patience Touraine to be rescued from her own parents. He
had suddenly known that Verity, at least, was not his enemy. It had given him
hope, and he had stupidly shared it with Marius, only to discover that he was
not the only one enchanted by the young woman's beauty. They had fought over
her affection, and, that doing nothing to win it for either of them, they had
commiserated together until Marius had seized upon a plan to rescue her. Still,
despite their unwilling alliance, despite all their preparation, Emerald had
never really imagined that he might succeed in stealing such a treasure from
under the nose of her implacable, daunting father.
Her room was an immaculate disaster of dolls and
closets, silk and satin. She lay amidst white sheets, her coppery curls
spilling across her pillow, her pale golden shoulders bare above a sky blue
silken gown. She was three years younger than he, fourteen years old to
Emerald's seventeen, but as he gazed upon her slumbering face, he knew he had
never seen anyone as lovely as Verity Touraine. He clenched his teeth, sick to
his stomach, as Marius, the winner in a game of dice, sat beside her, placed
his disgusting arrogant hand across her ruby-red lips, and terrified her into
wakefulness.
Her shriek died in her throat as Marius held a
finger to his lips and murmured, "I'm here to take you away, queen of my
heart."
Comprehension dawned immediately in her jade-green
eyes, and she nodded once. Marius released her mouth, and she sighed. "I'm
so glad you came," she spoke, her voice shockingly loud in the silent
room.
Emerald and Marius both winced. "My
lady," Emerald whispered, "we are both here to rescue you, but you
must be quiet. My comrade is hurt, so it would be difficult for him to help me
fight the guards—"
Marius glared at Emerald. "Your beauty heals
wounds, my queen. With you beside me, I could fight a hundred men…" he
winked at her bawdily, "but it would be best to avoid that, if we
could."
Verity blushed, a crimson glow spreading from her
cheeks to her flawless collarbones, and Emerald's heart thundered in his
breast. Despite her embarrassment, her voice was steady and composed.
"Sorry. I have my possessions packed," she whispered, slipping out of
her sheets to pad barefoot across her carpeted floor to a shelf laden with a
dozen staring porcelain dolls. Ignoring their accusing eyes, she pulled half of
the dolls down and drew forth a blue silk rucksack from behind them. Staggering
under its weight, Verity stepped backwards and stumbled over one of her dolls.
Emerald lunged, but the bag weighed an astonishing amount; he caught its
straps, but not before it fell to the floor with a hollow thump.
"Oops," Verity said, radiant with
embarrassment. "I packed as lightly as I could," she whispered,
guiltily defiant.
Marius moved forward to pick up the bag even as
Emerald strained to collect it. The Komaru tried to take it in his wounded hand
and grimaced in pain, giving Emerald time to shift it to his shoulder. He
wondered if she had filled it with bricks. Dubiously, Emerald asked, "Are
you sure you need everything in here?"
Verity nodded earnestly. "I can't leave my
dia- my, um, books behind. And I had to take some clothes, too. I know it's
heavy, but…" Despite her brave tone, Emerald saw that she was trembling.
He felt a new emotion for Verity: sympathy for the girl fleeing the only home
she had ever known. He ached to embrace her as she resolutely said, "So,
let's go," prepared to face the unknown in nothing more than a nightgown.
Marius said, "If it's too heavy for you, let
me carry it," and tried to take the rucksack from Emerald.
Emerald sidestepped carefully, ignoring Marius
entirely. His heart fluttered as he looked into Verity's lovely eyes and
ventured, "My lady, although I want nothing more than to get you to
safety, I'm afraid we'll need to do some climbing to get out of here. Perhaps
you might want to…" he gestured at her bare feet.
"Oh," she blushed again. "Allow me a
moment to dress." She hesitated for a moment – Emerald guessed she was
deciding whether or not to send them out of her room. "I'll just get a
cloak and boots," she finally said, her cheeks flaming.
"My pleasure," Marius answered as
Emerald, relieved, set the bag down on Verity's bed. It promptly sank halfway
into the mattress.
The two rivals waited in silence as Verity dug a
pair of ankle-high black boots and matching sable stockings out of one
wardrobe, and then tossed a flowing velvet cloak onto her bed. Emerald did his
best to appear to studiously ignore her while she shyly pulled the calf-high
stockings onto her slim, shapely legs. As he did so, he noticed that Marius was
openly staring at her, his expression hungry.
He opened his mouth to chastise Marius when a
flicker of movement at the doorway caught his eye. He hissed, "We have
company," and darted towards the open portal. Throwing caution to the
wind, he thrust his head out of the door and looked around.
He almost failed to see her: a slight young woman,
no older than Verity, in a black kimono, backing deliberately away down the
hall. Seeing him, she stopped abruptly in place and said, "Don't come any
closer or I'll scream."
Emerald bit his lip, regretting all of the noise
Marius had made and certain it had woken her up. By her elfin face and pale
skin, he recognized her as another of Lucien's gaggle of daughters. "Lady
Victoria, I presume," he called to her in an urgent undertone. She had
retreated behind the low settee in the hall, well out of his reach. Of all the
contingencies Marius and Emerald had planned for, they had never considered how
to deal with an inquisitive younger sister. He seized on a wild plan. "We
were just speaking with your sister about very important matters. Since you found
us, I suppose we have no choice but to let you join us. Please, come on
in."
Victoria's eyes narrowed, "I'm not an idiot,
Lord Emerald. You can go back inside, and stay there, until the guards—"
"Vicky!" Marius crooned from behind
Emerald's shoulder. "Please, come on in! I'm so happy to see—"
Victoria glowered in frank disgust at Marius,
"You! I am going to call the guards, just to see you tossed out of here on
your head!"
"Oh, you haven't called them yet, then? My
dear sister-to-be," Marius dissembled, "how can you even threaten
such a thing? Why, have we not spent many a pleasant evening together, you and
I? I know you and Yuki—"
Victoria took a deep breath, ready to scream.
Before she could, Verity clunked out into the hallway, wearing one half-laced
boot. "Vicky!" she hissed. "Stop interfering! I'll never forgive
you if don't!"
Victoria stopped mid-breath, and said sulkily,
"It doesn't matter anyway. I think I hear a guard coming."
"Please, Victoria. Won't you help?"
Verity implored her. "I never told anyone about when you had Scarlet show
you—"
"Shush!" Even in the dim hall, Emerald
saw Victoria flush. From somewhere behind her, he could hear heavy booted steps
approaching. "Don't say any more." She hesitated, looking from
Emerald to Verity, and then on to Marius with a scowl. Her lips pursed together
as she made a decision. "Fine. If they take you away, I can have your
room, right?"
"My room!" Verity squawked, outraged.
"No—I mean, yes! Just, please, help!"
Victoria glared at Marius. "You all – particularly
you – owe me for this. Don't forget. Get them in your room and shut the door,
Verity." She turned her back and kicked the settee hard enough to make it
thump against the wall. "Ouch!" she shrieked theatrically.
Verity's slim fingers closed around Emerald's arm,
pulling him back into her room. "Hide behind the bed!" she commanded
urgently, shoving both Marius and Emerald down as she pulled her door shut and
leapt into bed, yanking her covers over her. "Shh!"
Outside, Emerald heard an older woman's voice.
"Lady Victoria, is something the matter?"
"Oh, nothing, Viole. I just tripped over the
stupid settee on the way back to my room," Victoria answered innocently.
Suspiciously, the guard asked, "What were you
doing out of your room so late at night?"
"Taking lessons with Scarlet, Mommy, and
Daddy," Victoria said brightly.
"Ah," the guard answered, profoundly
disinterested all of the sudden. "Well. I'll just be going, then."
Emerald heard booted footsteps recede into the distance. Immediately, Verity
flung herself out of bed to finish lacing up her boots.
Marius, watching her, said, "What sort of
lessons does Victoria have at this time of night?"
Verity's blush was incandescent, but she
unaffectedly answered, "I have no idea whatsoever." Her words were
innocent, but her tone was provocative, further arousing his desire for her.
Marius said, "No, really, I'm curious—"
Emerald, his mind spinning with images, kicked him in the shin.
"We should go now," Verity said, pulling
her dark cloak around her shoulders. "No more talking. Do bring my bag,
though." She pulled her door open and strode deliberately out of the room,
leaving Marius and Emerald to fight over her rucksack. As he won the battle and
struggled to carry it out of the room, Emerald tried to decide if Marius had
surrendered it far too graciously.
In the hall, Victoria embraced Verity and
whispered, "I'll see you." With a hard look at the two boys, she
added, "Don't forget your debts."
Verity hugged her back, "I won't let them.
I'll see you." They exchanged kisses, and, in a swirl of dark silk,
Victoria turned and vanished down the hall, back to her room. "Where
now?" Verity asked.
Wordlessly, Marius led them back to Helena's room.
The governess shifted in the bed, her eyes watching the young girl with envy.
Seeing her, Verity started. "You gagged my governess!"
Marius, apologetic, said, "Bright angel, she
had a sword—"
Emerald cleared his throat. "Now is not the
time for bad poetry. Marius, you have the rope."
"Right," Marius said, loosening the
knotted silk cord he wore as a sash and taking it out to the balcony.
As Marius tied the rope, Verity tilted her head up
to peer at Emerald. "I know who he is already, but you're my cousin
Emerald, right? Didn't we dance together once?"
Emerald's face grew hot. "Yes, my lady. At
Aimee Komaru's engagement ball. I remember it as if it were yesterday."
Sometimes he envied Marius' glibness, no matter how preposterous it sometimes
sounded—
"Mm," Verity said, thoughtful. "So
you'll be my brother-in-law."
Emerald's heart stopped. "Wh-what?"
Her eyes, jewel-bright, widened. "You didn't
know? You're to be engaged to my sister Serenity."
The room seemed to be spinning. "But I
love—" His mind raced with images of Serenity at balls, in formal dresses.
He had dreamed of nothing but her for a year before trying to forget about her
dulcet voice, her silvery laughter. His heart pounded, and his mouth was as dry
as a bone. Serenity, who had never noticed him, though he had sought her smile
for so long—
"Hm," said Verity, watching him intently,
a disquieting gleam in her bright eyes. Her hand caught his own. "I think
Marius is ready for us to climb down. Will you help me, cousin? I've never
climbed a rope before." She stepped close to him, the scent of lilies
tickling his nose. "How do I do it?"
Dazed, he held up his hands, "Take the rope
and climb. It's knotted—"
"I'm afraid," Verity said, sounding
fearless. "I should just hold onto you as you go down," she added.
"Um, if you say so," he said, "But
your bag…"
Firmly, she answered, "Marius will catch
it."
Obediently, he dropped the bag over the side and
climbed the balcony rail. Marius grunted as he caught it, glaring angrily
upwards. In bewildered desire, he watched her smile enigmatically at him,
deliberately hike her skirts up to her knees, and nimbly slip over the rail
herself. Then, with a rustle of silk and velvet, she sidled over to him, and
pulled herself across his back to wrap her arms around his chest.
"There," she murmured in his ear as she pressed up against him. "Isn't
it ironic that the day you find you'll be joining the family, you help steal me
away from it? Maybe you were destined to come for me." She snuggled
closer, locking her bare legs around his waist as he shifted his weight to the
rope. Into his ear, she purred, "Daddy would kill you if he saw me like
this."
He could feel the gentle pressure of her breasts
against his back, her calves against his thighs. Dizzy, he started to climb,
mumbling, "You seem… older."
She giggled again. "I'm becoming free. Set me
free, Emerald. Take me away from here. Please." She kissed his neck
deliberately, and he nearly let go of the rope.
"I'll do anything for you, my lady." His
heart thundered, and he fervently prayed she would not shift her legs, see the
degree of his desire for her.
Her arms tightened about his chest. "Good boy.
I'm so glad you came for me. You'd be wasted on my sister." Her teeth
seized his ear softly, and he felt her tongue catch against it, teasing, and
then her thighs tightened—
His feet touched ground, and she disentangled
herself from him to stand on her own, blushing. "I've never been that
close to a boy before," she murmured, suddenly embarrassed, suddenly
innocent.
Marius glared at Emerald, and answered her,
"You'd enjoy being that close to a man even more," he winked, making
her giggle with shyness.
His blood still singing with desire, Emerald stared
at Verity in confusion. She met his gaze unaffectedly, and wiped a coppery curl
from her face. Suddenly angry, he whispered, "We need to go."
Verity nodded, took both of their hands, and said,
"Set me free."
When the sun rose four hours later, Emerald
remembered little of their flight over walls, down alleys, through the night.
Only one memory lingered: Verity's eyes, jade-green and shining, as she stood
at the gate of Patience Touraine's manor and murmured, "Thank you. I owe
you so much. You've set me free, and I must repay you somehow. If I can, I will
have my coming of age soon. I want you…" she blushed, ruby as blood, and
pressed on, "I want you to be there." As his heart beat like a caged
bird against his breast and he reached for her, she raised her head and looked
from him to Marius and added, "Both of you. Be there."
Then, she ducked her head and turned, fleeing into
the night. Free.
As he watched her vanish, Marius elbowed him in the
ribs. His own eyes distant, he said, "She likes me better. I can tell –
she kissed me when returned her bag."
Emerald remembered her lips on his ear, the
sharpness of her teeth, her legs twined about his body. "You're—" He
sighed. "Never mind. Let's go, Marius, I need some sleep."
Serenity, he thought.
Verity, he thought.
"Yeah, some sleep will give you time to forget
about her," Marius grinned.
In his mind's eye, Emerald saw the four of them
dancing. But his heart remained silent.
Love and Sickness
The Crown Princess Adriana Komaru lifted the golden
crown from her brow and set it on the cedar table, then sat in the simple
wooden chair beside her brother's sick bed. She covered her face with her
hands, kneading her brow with her fingertips. It was a simple pleasure, and for
a few short moments, it made her forget her bone-numbing exhaustion.
Hideo stirred in the bed beside her, coming
fitfully awake. Adriana dropped her hands to see his blood-flecked lips shape
the smile she knew so well. "How was your third day as ruler of all
Komaru, Adry?" he asked, his voice husky as he fought off slumber.
Adriana smiled fondly at him, and brushed her
fingers across his clammy forehead, straightening his hair. "Today I put
my seal to a Royal Endorsement of the Guild of Magistrates, to the general
horror of the nobility. Furthermore, I also approved Prince Lucien's
bill."
Hideo's eyes widened in astonishment, and he
struggled to sit up. "You took the cities away from the Great
Families?"
Adriana put her hand on his shoulder. "Stop
it. You'll start coughing if you move around too much." She favored him
with an embarrassed smile. "I didn't. That happened ages ago. I just
clarified the law by recognizing reality. The Great Families haven't controlled
the cities for hundreds of years, if not longer – they can barely tax them, let
alone police them. It pleased the merchants to have the situation formalized,
and I need them to be happy – my own idiot family seems determined to dabble in
merchant affairs, despite the fact that the merchants are about to openly
revolt against us all."
Hideo digested her words. By his expression, she
could see that she had surprised him, a rare occurrence indeed. "I didn't
expect you to do it – not because I think it was a bad idea, but because the
Skye clearly have a vested interest in seeing it happen."
Sourly, Adriana nodded. "I know, I know. But
it was the necessary thing to do, and I think Lucien knew I'd see that. After I
finished legalizing the cities, I told the Royal Council that the Crown was
opposed to further change at this time – I think we need a few years to adjust
to what has happened, and to understand how the magistrates fit into Komaru.
But I don't know that I'll get the respite. Nobles back the Dawning Star for no
reason I can see, and I know Lucien's planning something himself." She
clenched her fists, glowering. "I'm sure Mother's engagement to that
merchant has something to do with it."
"You still don't approve?" Hideo said,
sympathetic.
"I don't. I know she waited to announce the
engagement until after she stepped down as Regent to try to minimize the
political statement it made, but she is still a woman who has been the Princess
Consort and the Regent. War hero or not, Roberto de Flourent is fundamentally a
merchant propped up as a noble by the Skye. I distrust them, and I know Mother
actively hates the Skye – I can't imagine what she's thinking in marrying
one."
"Maybe she's in love," Hideo said gently.
Adriana reddened. "I don't—"
Hideo caught his sister's hand and squeezed it
gently. "Tell me about Aimee's wedding to Patric Sone. I'm sorry I fell
asleep so quickly last night."
Adriana smiled inwardly. He always knew when to
change the subject to spare her feelings. Holding his hand tightly, she spun
out her tale of traveling in Aimee's company to Castle Sunset, and of the
twisted shadowy tangle of that edifice's walls. She repeated Ruby's tale of its
name among the peasantry: Light's Death, the castle that slew the Twilight Crux
and blotted out the sun. But for its ominous exterior, she could not help but
shiver in remembered awe as she described the chamber in its heart, where the
walls themselves shimmered with trapped light. Practically every Sone of note
had been present, as well as most of the prominent Komaru, the two families
together vastly outnumbering the castle's Touraine custodians. In officiating
the ceremony, she had no chance to sit down, but neither had any of the other
guests, so packed was Sunset's hall. She described Aimee's wedding gown in
lavish detail: she had worn white, cut in a Touraine style but elaborate
instead of sensual. Adriana had never before imagined a bride wearing armor,
but Aimee's dress of silk and diamond had seemed as impenetrable as the
lacquered hauberk worn by her attendant, Mineko Minamet.
Patric Sone's attire had made a very different
impression, but no less strong. She had seen him in Royal Council and in court
before, and had always thought of him as a sort of bumbling but pleasant
fellow, only a few years her senior. Seeing him in an exquisitely tailored
velvet coat of black and scarlet chased with gold, she had reassessed her
opinion of him: he was so shockingly gorgeous as to be intimidating. She had
stammered for a moment when the ceremony began, stricken by shyness at the
notion of performing his wedding.
Hideo chuckled as she spoke of Patric. "I'm
jealous."
Adriana blushed to her ear tips. "Don't be. I
thought he was my age, but he's not – he's fifteen years older at least. I
wouldn't—I can't imagine him seeing me as a person. I don't want to be a
prize—" She looked down, aware she was babbling and ashamed of her
weakness.
Hideo touched a finger to her lips. "It's all
right, Adry. I understand." He tipped her head up, his eyes warm and
golden. She ached to kiss him, to hold him, to do something to make him her
vibrant, shining Hideo again, not the poor beloved brother who had spent four
long years devastated by illness.
Sensing her turmoil, Hideo inquired, "And did
the Sone all attune like we expected them to?"
Adriana swallowed her feelings and nodded. "I
think so. The Touraine tried to keep them from bringing Cosmos decks into the
castle, but there were just too many of them, and you know how sneaky the Sone
can be when they put their mind to it. A few of the Komaru did as well – Aimee
and Patric had their cards as I was marrying them, and Zoe Komaru – I have no
idea how she got an invitation – waved hers around like she'd been married to
it and was glad we had all come to watch. I know the Duke of Yamazakura Kukkyoku
made certain Her Grace Midoko attuned herself, too, and her sister Sana had a
very public fight with her fiancé Jade Touraine about a Cosmos deck. I think
Sana said something about Jade believing she would age poorly, but they
certainly seemed to have made up by the end of the night," she said
darkly. "The Prince Consort Presumptive cornered me for a dance late in
the evening, and we ended up next to the two of them, setting an example that I
sincerely hope His Grace Dante realizes would lead to me running him
through." Her cheeks burned with remembered outrage.
Hideo refrained from comment, well aware of her
opinion of her own fiancé. "But you did not attune."
It was not a question. She nodded, sighing. "I
thought about it. I don't know. I know the Royal Council pays lip service to
obeying me, but they all believe they are older and wiser, that their
experience should override my youth and title. I can't imagine spending the
rest of my life having them lord their age over me." She did not voice her
other reason for not attuning, save to herself: she could not imagine having to
watch Hideo grow older while she remained young. But she could see him watching
her knowingly, and wondered, as always, how many of her thoughts he could see.
"I think you are right to wait. It's—" he
struggled to pull himself up again, and immediately started to cough. Adriana
winced in sympathetic pain, but then the brief fit turned into a lengthy spasm.
She saw new blood fleck Hideo's lips and gingerly she moved to the edge of the
bed to wipe away the blood, to hold him, to comfort him. Tears welled in her
eyes at his discomfort, at the way the sickness had reduced his once-strong
body to a thin, pallid frame. Seeing how his bright eyes had sunken into the
wasted, cadaverous lines of his face, she knew she was losing the one she loved
more than any other, and worst of all, there was nothing she could do for him—
Hideo put his arms around her weakly, embracing
her. "You should call the physicians, Adry. I think I need to sleep. I'm
so sorry. I hate for you to see me like this. I am feeling better, most
days," he lied, kind as ever. "But, one last question. Please?"
"Anything," Adriana sighed, holding him
tightly.
"Dmitri. The Jitani prisoner."
Adriana buried her head against Hideo's shoulder.
"He is unchanged. He sits in his cell, seeing himself as an ambassador,
not a captive."
Hideo whispered, "I can feel his presence like
a blight. He knows it, too. Beware him, sister. He is like nothing I have known
before." He started to cough again, blood spattering from his lungs onto
her white kimono. "Will you give them what they want?"
Helpless, she held him while he shook and trembled
in the grip of death, until at last the physicians came, their power great
enough to divide her from her very brother. As she was led away, she took up
her crown and murmured, "I don't know, Hideo. I don't know what I have to
do. I don't know what's right."
In nineteen years, Adriana Komaru had never felt so
profoundly alone.
Convictions
Change is.
Mineko Minamet, Duchess of Inazuma, held her katana
with both hands, its blade horizontal to the ground, an extension of her body.
Slower than nightfall, she drew it through the air, cutting a languid wind into
the stillness of the room. She took one step, then another, reversing the blade
and bringing it down, a hammer or a storm, to crash gradually to the distant
earth.
Life is the awareness of change.
A rock crumbles beneath the rain.
A tree grows towards the sun
Only one possesses life.
As she moved, the silk of her wedding kimono slid
like a second skin across her flesh, an icy, intimate caress that teased goose
bumps from her arms and clung to her hips, evoking memories of a lover's
passion. After forty years alone, already she had grown so accustomed to another's
touch to yearn for it in its absence.
In six short hours, she would have to learn to
welcome the embrace of another.
No battle had ever filled her with so much
uncertainty, so much dread.
What if she was not what he wanted?
Power is life's ability to cause or oppose change.
A tinker wanders the roads.
A serf tills the earth.
Only one has power.
She remembered the start of the challenge as
clearly as if she had just spoken it.
Her father had taken her across the country to the
edge of the sea, mere months before Alessandro emerged, tearing the bandages
off the bloodied country. Fourteen years old, veteran of half-a-dozen battles
against the desert scum, nothing had prepared her for the threat posed by a
charming young man with sea-green eyes.
"Come away with me," Amethyst Touraine
had whispered to her as her father laboriously traded breeding stock with his
grandfather Tourmaline. He was exotic, alluring: next to Amethyst, her brother
and his friends were plodding, slow beasts, draft horses beside a fiery young
stallion. She had trusted herself to him, a shy mare, wanting to be chased,
wondering if she would like being caught.
"They say Minamet fear nothing," he had
teased her, "not even ghosts." Boldly, she had told him he was right,
and he had laughed. "Then," he smiled, "you won't be afraid to
see a haunted castle, will you?" Her heart had raced, but she had vowed:
there was no place he could go that she would shrink from.
She was so young.
Day by day, he had led her farther from his
grandfather's castle, across the gray moors of the duchy of Umikaze. At night
he whispered to her, teasing her with compliments, dancing in a web of
challenge and seduction, stolen touches and dodged kisses. When they left his
grandfather's lands, she knew at once: they were in an older place. Touraine.
In the ocean, a Mer rose, wearing Amethyst's shape.
She dreamed of loving it while Amethyst huddled beside her, "for
warmth."
In the morning, they came to the Castle of the Sea,
lonely and beautiful, a seashell surrendered by the waves, its duchess a
phantom lost in time.
"It's beautiful," she had whispered.
"Not as lovely as you," he had told her,
sending shocks of guilty pleasure through her mind.
"Can we go in?"
He shook his head. "No. It has no doors, not
any more." He paused, his eyes twinkling as he prepared to tease her,
"But if you are very brave, you can touch it."
Together, they had crept to its wall, there to lay
their hands on its flank. It had been warm, surprisingly smooth. Alive. The
merest contact sent a surge of reassurance through her, as though it were
familiar, a friend she had forgotten.
When the sun set into the ocean, when the stars
came out, she was ready to be caught. Amethyst's lips were as warm as the
castle's walls, and his fingertips were gentle as they stripped away her armor
of leather, linen, and innocence, baring her to the world.
Then, with a rustle of silk and a whisper of ocean
salt, the ghost had stepped out of the darkness, into the sandy hollow where
they lay together.
Justice is the exercise of power for the benefit of
life.
A hunter kills for sport.
A butcher slaughters a lamb.
Only one delivers justice.
Amethyst had fled, screaming, without as much as a
backward glance. Perhaps he had expected her to flee as well. Perhaps he simply
did not care. But she had done what any Minamet would do: she had risen in
dishabille, drawn her sword, and held it before her to challenge the specter.
With a kindly smile, the duchess of Touraine
introduced herself, demonstrating that she was flesh, not spirit. Verity had
taken her into her home, telling her she was better without a man who would
leave her in such a state. After a moment's embarrassment, she had agreed.
"But he seemed to care for me," she sighed. "He spent so much
time with me, and he seemed to want to know me."
Verity smiled sadly. "Sometimes, men desire
the chase more than the quarry."
She stayed there through the night, talking with
the duchess of men, until at last she seized on an idea. "Perhaps what I
really want is a man who will chase me, but do so because he knows the value of
the quarry. I think no man shall have me until he can catch me – on horse, in
battle, in everything that I do, in everything that makes me who I am. Then,
even if they give chase, they will become what I want them to be."
Verity sipped her tea. "If you think it will
make you happy, my dear, do so."
When the sun rose, and she screwed up her courage
to ask the question that had troubled her all night long, "Your Grace, may
I ask one thing? What keeps you here, alone?"
"Ah," Verity sighed. "I am waiting
to die."
She pursed her lips, and then shyly ventured,
"I don't think I'll ever see you again, but I thank you for your
hospitality, and for your advice on men. I am wiser now, thanks to you, and you
spared me from a terrible mistake. While I would not interrupt your vigil, do
you think I might write to you when I get home?"
Verity had blushed faintly, and nodded her head,
her deep green eyes bright. "I think I would like that, Mineko-san. I
think I would like that very much."
Honor is the knowledge of justice that tempers
power.
A soldier bests a thousand foes.
A hero saves one child.
Only one shows honor.
For years, her challenge had protected her,
strengthening her will, shielding her soul. Many men had sought her, only to learn
she was no easy prey. Swift as the wind and fierce as a fire, she was the mare
that could not be caught, until at last none dared try.
Year by year, she grew old, until she too came to
see that she was waiting to die.
Change is.
Strike and block, thrust and riposte, Mineko moved
through her sword of folded steel, through her wedding kimono of embroidered
silk. Through motion, through action, through the familiar weight of her blade,
the wedding gown became part of her, until at last she felt the weight of
anxiety slip away, replaced by acceptance, by calm, by hope for the future.
The armor she had worn since that long-ago night in
the shadow of the Castle of the Sea fell away from her, its time past.
She shed a single tear for it, for her childhood,
for Verity long dead, for her castle slain, then sheathed her blade and bound
it to her obi.
It was time to be a bride.
It is the 230th year since Paraceln's
Dream. Change is a hammer, testing convictions, breaking assumptions,
destroying hopes. But for every death, there is a promise of life, and in the
wake of a wedding, even a castle may be born.