by Devin Madson
Katashi came away from the window and stood before me. Though he sat his hands gently on my shoulders, I wouldn’t soon forget his strength. ‘Hana,’ he said. ‘You aren’t Regent anymore. When this is over you will be my wife, not my councillor.’
And so General Manshin had sent me a wedding gift. I stared up at him. ‘Just like that? That’s your proposal?’
‘No. I didn’t ask.’
‘You just assume I want to marry you?’
Katashi lifted a quizzical brow, amused now. ‘Don’t you? Perhaps you should have said something last night.’
He referred to it so calmly that my cheeks reddened. Once I would have been his for the asking, but Monarch was as dead as Regent, my dreams buried with them.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to marry you.’
His smile vanished, his grip tightening on my shoulders. ‘What?’
‘I don’t want to marry you, Katashi.’
‘You want Monarch? I am Monarch.’
‘No, you aren’t. But no, I don’t want to marry him either.’
He growled and shook me roughly, his fingers digging into my flesh. ‘Do you think Kin will take you now?’
I stepped back, breaking his hold. ‘Why must I only exist as an adjunct to a man? I do not and will not belong to anyone.’
‘Don’t you? Are you an Otako?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you belong to me. I am the head of the family and it is my right to give you where I will. If you will not marry me then you are little better than a whore, good for nothing else but to entertain my men. Is that what you want?’
‘No.’
‘Then when this war is done you will be my empress.’
I closed my eyes. I wanted to be more than a wife and I had thought Katashi would understand that. He was the big cousin who had taught me to fight and look after myself, but now I could see he had only let me act as a man because I was too dangerous as a woman.
‘Please listen to what I am saying, Katashi,’ I said. ‘I am not going to marry you, but we can work together, we can fight together.’
‘My generals will not listen to a woman.’
‘I am an Otako.’
‘You are a woman, Hana, a girl! Your only worth is in the marriage you will make, and if you will not marry me then I will organise another marriage that will secure our family’s fortune.’
‘No.’
With a hiss he ran his hands through his hair. ‘What have I done?’ he said. ‘For months you have been following me around with your big lovey eyes. You wanted to marry me that night beneath the Kissing Tree.’
‘I did.’
‘I see. Then it seems there is nothing more to be said.’ Indicating that I should wait, he walked away, sliding a screen that led deeper into his apartments – apartments that had once belonged to Kin. For a few silent moments I was alone with Hatsukoi, she his true love. They owned one another so completely there was no room for anyone else.
When Katashi returned he was carrying a small wooden box. ‘A parting gift, Hana,’ he said. ‘From me to you.’
‘I don’t want your gifts, Katashi.’
‘That’s because you don’t accept gifts from a man you don’t intend to marry!’ The box broke open as it hit the matting, divulging a string of blue pearls. Gripping my wrist, Katashi pulled me close. ‘So I was right,’ he hissed. ‘You would take what I give you and run to him. But he won’t have you now, Hana. Kin won’t marry a whore.’
‘I am not a whore,’ I said. I tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold, squeezing so hard I thought my bones would snap.
‘Aren’t you? You begged for it better than any whore I’ve ever had.’
‘Let me go!’
‘So you can go and beg it from him? Don’t think you can lie, Hana. He’ll be able to smell it. Even that beautiful face won’t save you. You’ll be dirt beneath his feet just like your mother was when she fell from grace.’
He let go of my arm only to press my face between his hands. ‘He stole our throne, Hana,’ he said, close enough that I could smell his breath. ‘Kin let your family die.’
‘And your father was executed for their assassination.’
‘That’s a Ts’ai lie and you know it. He was executed for losing a war and went to the headsman to protect his family. That’s why I’ve never asked you to marry me, Hana, because I would not give myself the same weakness he had, would not force you to suffer the indignity of having your husband executed if I were to lose as my father did.’
‘Katashi–’
He let me go, and gripped his hair with one agitated hand. ‘You will betray me? Your own family, your own blood.’
‘Not unless you force me to.’
His hand fell. ‘A threat, Hana?’
‘No, Katashi. But I will not sit idle. I will fight for Kisia. For what is right for Kisia.’
Not answering, he began to pace back and forth before the window, walking in and out of the light with the sort of nervous energy I had rarely seen in him. I let him go, seeing more honesty in this troubled man than I had ever seen in his imperial act. Perhaps there was hope for him. If there was a real man in there, then he was worth fighting for.
‘We need not continue this discussion now,’ I said, sure he would benefit from time to consider. ‘Think about what I have said and we will talk again later. And if you’ll take my advice, leave Malice and Darius alone.’
‘They are Empaths. Did you know that?’
I parted my lips to refute such a ridiculous idea, but the words remained unsaid. Empaths. It was a myth, a story, and yet it made sense of so much strangeness, so many questions for which I had never received a satisfactory answer from either of them. ‘I think I did, I just didn’t have a word for it.’
‘You don’t care? Do you know what they’re capable of?’
‘No, what difference does it make? They looked after me and they would never do me any harm. Malice helped you, too. He deserves better than to have you turn on him.’
Katashi snorted. ‘If that is the calibre of your advice, my lady, I am amazed you think yourself worthy of my Council.’
I uttered none of the caustic words that came to mind, just forced a smile and said. ‘Let’s continue this later. We can talk again when we are both cooler.’ I bowed. ‘Thank you for your time, Your Majesty.’
I was halfway to the door before he spoke again. ‘Do you love me, Hana?’ he asked, his sharp question halting my steps. The reeds crackled as I shifted my weight. The answer was not a simple yes or no anymore. He hung at the edge of my vision like the elusive figure he had become. ‘No,’ I said. But I could. Those words I would not say and hoped he would not guess.
‘And Kin? He asked you to marry him. Do you love him?’
‘I didn’t marry him, did I?’
‘That isn’t an answer.’
‘Well, it is the only one you are going to get, Your Majesty.’
I slid the door, causing the two guards in the hall to break off mid-whisper and stare straight ahead like statues.
‘Goodbye, Hana.’
When I glanced back I saw Katashi already taking up Hatsukoi, before the door slid, the translucent screen obscuring them both.
The two guards watched me. ‘Something else we can do for you, my lady?’ one asked.
‘Certainly not,’ I said. ‘Have you some reason to find me amusing?’
Their smiles vanished. ‘Not at all, my lady.’
‘Then I suggest you treat me with the respect I deserve. I am the daughter of Emperor Lan and you will bow when I enter a room. In fact you will bow whenever you see me. If you so much as think of me you will bow as low as you can bend, and you will remember that while you are low-born scum, I am an empero
r’s daughter. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, my lady,’ they chorused, one of them bending into a bow and causing the other to copy in some confusion.
‘Good.’
I walked away leaving them bent at the waist, and my whole body buzzed with the thrill of a power I had never tested. Katashi had traded on his name all his life, but I had grown up just a girl, taught to practice calligraphy and venerate the gods. But I was an Otako. It was a magic word, one that could gain me access to a world governed by men.
My room was silent when I returned, cheerful sunlight pouring in through the narrow windows. It smelt of new matting and the rose petals floating in the cold bath water.
I lowered myself onto the divan with a sigh. Outside a group of soldiers were passing through the second gate, their high-stepping horses kept to a sedate trot. I missed riding; missed the speed and the freedom, the sound of hooves on the stones and the wind in my hair. I ought to have been born a man. What use was an emperor’s daughter? Katashi had said my worth was in marriage and he was right. He might accept me, might be bullied into giving me a place on his Council, but how long would it be before his generals treated me as more than a little girl to be humoured? Already I was a source of amusement and gossip, of roaming eyes and wandering hands.
The smell of soup drifted to my nose. ‘That smells good,’ I said, turning with a smile. ‘Seaweed s–’
It was not Tili. A young woman stood at the opposite side of the room holding a tray. Dark curls sprang riotously from her broad brow and a pair of blue eyes stared straight at me, her gaze more direct than any servant would dare.
‘Lady Hana Otako?’ she asked. ‘But I need not ask. You look like your mother.’
‘Who are you? I’ll call the guards.’
The woman was not impressed. Her thick brows rose, assuming an expression as haughty as any I had seen on Katashi’s face. ‘Really?’ she said. ‘You would turn me over when I have brought you soup? That is hardly the way one should behave toward one’s family.’
‘Kimiko.’
She set the tray on the low table. ‘Do I look so much like my brother?’
‘Enough,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry if I seem stupid, it just seems strange that we haven’t met until now. What are you doing here? Katashi told me you were in Jinanton.’
‘And so I might have been had my beloved brother not found a better use for me.’ Footsteps passed in the passage, the vaguest of silhouettes flitting by the taut screen. ‘But I did not come to talk of me.’
‘Katashi didn’t even mention you were here. Why are you here?’
For an instant she hesitated, before saying: ‘I came because I need to ask you something. Katashi told me you were brought up by Malice and Darius Laroth, is that right?’
‘I had foster parents,’ I said. ‘My father was an apple farmer north of Giana, but Darius was my guardian and paid for my tutors. I didn’t see him much, then when he left to serve Kin in Mei’lian, Malice took his place.’
‘So he did serve The Usurper.’
Almost I snapped back. I had called him Usurper once, but no man had ever done more for Kisia than Kin. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I cannot tell you why he chose Kin or why he left, but he broke Malice’s heart. I don’t think Malice likes people to leave him.’
‘That I can believe.’
‘You know him?’
Kimiko smiled. ‘A little.’
A knock sounded on the door. It was always Tili who answered it, but she had not returned from her errand. The knock came again. ‘Lady Hana?’ an unknown voice spoke from the passage. In daylight the screen was opaque, only the slightest sign of movement discernible through its pale paper.
‘Just a moment,’ I called back. Kimiko had frozen, one hand resting on the wall. ‘Should you be here?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I will go, but please, if you know what the Vices truly are then tell me, do I have any chance of freedom?’
‘What?’
The tap came again. ‘My lady? I have a gift from His Majesty.’
‘His Majesty’s gifts can wait! I am… I am not yet dressed.’
Kimiko pressed her back against the wood. ‘You have no answer for me,’ she said, her voice barely a whisper. ‘You do not know what I am.’
‘Let me send this man away and we can talk.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I must go, but Hana, whatever he promises you, don’t trust Katashi.’
On the words she stepped back through the wall, her body fading into the panelling like mist.
The knock came again. ‘You may come in,’ I said, touching the solid wood. Tili had said Darius walked through the wall.
The door slid, and the tread of soft shoes sounded on the floor. The man ought to stop and bow, gift in hand, but light steps kept coming.
Don’t trust Katashi, Kimiko had said.
A glint of light flashed across the roof.
I ducked, hair ripping out as I turned. A glimpse of a knife in a scarred hand and my heart stopped. I hit the floor scrambling, robe catching on broken reeds. A heavy tread, and a foot slammed into my ankle, bruising bone. A knee in the small of my back and his weight was on me, crushing me to the floor. My collar tightened, and sure he was going for my throat, I thrashed, trying to buck him off.
We rolled, his arm locked around my neck. A sweat-slick forearm forced my chin up, exposing my throat. I could feel the knife as though it already touched my skin and threw out my hands, turning my head. There his arm, the stink of him fierce as I bit hard upon his bulging bicep. Blood burst onto my tongue, its sharp taste almost sweet as I dug my teeth in. The man grunted, his grip loosening just enough for me to wriggle free. One foot down ready to run, and a hand gripped my hair, tight. I tried to yank free, to tear my scalp from my skull as he hauled me up, but it remained stubbornly attached.
I kicked, finding knees and shins, hands scrabbling at my assailant’s arm as he pulled me toward the bath. ‘No! No! Please–’
My knees slammed into the side of the wooden tub, and with barely a moment to suck in a breath, my face plunged into the cold water. I fought to rise, pushing on the edge of the bath, every muscle straining. But his hand was like a weight on the back of my head, his thighs pinning me against the wood.
My lungs burned. I needed to breathe. There was no sound but the roar of water, nothing but darkness with my eyes squeezed shut. Pressure was crushing my chest. I needed to let the air go, but it was all I had left, this precious breath burning my lungs.
Air.
I let it go. Bubbles streamed out, and unable to fight the urge, I sucked a breath. Water surged in, stinging cold. Screaming to the darkness, I thrust back against the hand with everything I had. His body crushed me against the edge, pain everywhere, and my head sank lower into the water.
The fingers in my hair twitched, then his whole weight hit me, his body slumping onto mine. I had thought my strength spent, but as the hand left my head I jerked up, his heavy body rolling off as I threw myself back. A great gasp and I landed on the floor. I rolled. Water gushed from my mouth, kept on dribbling as I dragged in burning breaths, each scraping like blades.
‘My lady, are you all right?’
Tili hovered over me, clutching the handle of a large water pitcher. Nothing else remained. Broken pieces scattered the wet floor, and my assailant hung slumped over the edge of the wooden tub.
‘Is he...?’
‘I don’t know, my lady.’
With her help I managed to pull myself up on shaking legs. The man floated face down in the water, blood curling away from a contusion to the back of his head. Gripping a handful of wet hair, I lifted a familiar face out of the water.
A Pike.
I let go and the head dropped back beneath the surface.
‘He
said goodbye,’ I said, my voice hoarse.
‘You’re soaked, my lady.’ Tili hovered beside me. ‘We must get you out of that robe.’
The relief of finding myself alive was fading fast. ‘I have to get out of here,’ I said. ‘If he has tried once he will try again. But–’
I gripped Tili’s arm with a shaking hand. I was Lady Hana Otako; I could not just walk out of Koi unnoticed. And every single guard was loyal to Katashi, every Pike his man through and through. He could give the order and I could disappear.
I almost had.
‘Oh gods,’ I said, pressing a trembling hand to my lips. ‘I am already dead.’
Chapter 7
Kimiko returned, the change in the air enough to stir me from sleep. I opened exhausted eyes and blinked as she solidified, her sadness fading.
The furrow between her brows remained.
Kneeling, she set the tray down in front of the divan, and the smell of warm rice filled the room.
‘An offering?’ I asked, not moving from where I had fallen asleep.
‘If you mean an apology, no,’ Kimiko said, shifting the lantern, its solitary flame bravely combating the shadows. ‘I just thought you might be hungry.’
‘I am.’
I sat up. I wanted to bathe and change my robe; I wanted to walk, to stretch, to drink, but more than anything I wanted food. My stomach had been consuming itself for hours.
‘Are you going to eat it?’ she asked, when I made no move toward the tray.
‘No. Thank you.’
‘Need something more fancy than soup and rice?’
‘You cannot know me at all if you think that.’
‘How should I know you?’ she snapped. ‘You don’t tell me anything.’
‘I certainly shouldn’t have.’
Kimiko let out an exaggerated groan of frustration. ‘Perhaps I should go and leave you here.’