by Forthright
“I don’t want to get him into trouble,” whispered Kimiko.
Rise turned back long enough to nose her chest and lick her cheek, then ambled away. Five minutes passed into seven before the boy came skulking back, carrying a bundle in both hands.
She asked, “What do you have there?”
“Better stars.” Ever offered it very properly on both palms. “Stars for Bruvver. You make him happy?”
Kimiko wondered at his tone. “Is your brother unhappy?”
Ever frowned. He shook his head, then nodded, then shook again. “Bruvver’s a big boy. Dis a big boy gift.” He pressed it into Kimiko’s chest, so that she had to take it or else it would fall.
With extreme care, she folded back the wrappings, revealing a lovely old comb. The fading light gleamed softly on its surface, which was indeed etched with delicate stars. “Ever, this looks valuable. You can’t trade this for sweets.” She refolded the cloth and extended it. “I can’t take this.”
“Not for you. For Bruvver.”
Kimiko was willing to concede the point. Was there really any harm in indulging the little guy? He could have his sweets, and when Eloquence arrived, she’d return what had to be a family heirloom. So she said, “Thank you very much, Ever. I’ll make sure to give this to your brother.”
TWENTY-ONE
Heirloom
Ever munched happily on festival fare, kicking his feet over the edge of the porch. He’d brought a blanket out for Kimiko, who nibbled the point off a chocolate star while searching the overcast sky. The clouds sometimes whirled and spun in a wind that didn’t reach the ground, and she could feel a kind of thundering. Not a noise, really. More like a rumble she could feel in her chest. “What is that?”
Her companion mumbled unconcernedly around a mouthful. “Uncle.”
She wasn’t necessarily surprised. There must be every kind of Kith and Kindred in and around—and above—the Starmark compound. Flight was a typical Amaranthine capability, so the clan must be romping around somewhere above the clouds. Maybe they had their own way of celebrating the Star Festival. Feats of strength or speed.
“He must be really strong,” she said.
“Yeth.”
“Is Eloquence up there?” she asked.
Ever didn’t answer, but his ears were sinking fast. Had something happened? Only then did she register the cessation of airborne clamoring. And then something streaked across her field of vision … and Ever vanished from her side.
The chocolate slipped from her fingers, and she scrambled to her knees. Standing a short distance away, Harmonious Starmark stood watching her, his young son in his arms.
By the time she’d extricated herself from the blanket, a second male stood by his side—massive, white-haired, and clad in copper armor. The unknown warrior gripped a bared sword, and he was riled enough that his presence pressed uncomfortably against Kimiko’s quailing soul.
Harmonious wasn’t much better. Stiff and stern. This was not the friendly face one usually saw on the news.
“Sorry,” she whispered.
“Do you have reason to apologize?” inquired Spokesperson Starmark.
She shook her head, and her free hand offered a feeble plea for understanding. Where was Prospect to vouch for her? She glanced pleadingly at Rise, who was licking icing off his nose. The sneak had downed the last of the cake. “Mooch!” she whispered.
“My son is a little young to be entertaining a lady.” Ever’s father had mellowed, and it showed in his tone. “How did you happen to meet?”
She bowed. “I’m Kimiko Miyabe, a student at New Saga High School. I’m in Eloquence’s class.”
“Well met, Miyabe-chan.” Harmonious’ gaze shifted to a point past her shoulder. “Can you verify her claim?”
Kimiko turned to find Eloquence standing a little ways apart, looking very different than usual. He was breathing hard, and his hair was loose and wild. More shocking, he was also arrayed like a warrior—armed and armored, in a glory of copper and traditional silks.
“Reaver representative for Class 3-C,” he confirmed in a rough voice.
He looked as if he needed a seat. And sounded as if he needed a pot of tea. And here she was, keeping him from creature comforts. “I’m sorry to have interrupted. I didn’t want you to be totally left out of the fun of the Star Festival, so I brought a few things.”
Nearly all of which had already been eaten.
Kimiko rubbed the back of her neck and sheepishly added, “Ever liked all the stars.”
Eloquence seemed amused by something, but with a glance in his father’s direction, he drew himself up and executed a gracious bow. “Thank you for your consideration. I will accept your generosity, and you’ll be free to go.”
Acceptance with a dismissive undercurrent. But Kimiko could almost feel the weariness rolling off him. So she didn’t drag out her presentation with the explanation she probably owed. Extending the comb in its wrappings, she offered the traditional festival blessing. “May the stars grant the dearest wish of your heart.”
A flicker of confusion crossed his face, but he accepted her gift. Lifting away the delicate folds of cloth, he went still.
Kimiko thought it best to explain, but Eloquence was suddenly much, much closer.
He quietly demanded, “Where did you get this?”
But his father’s voice cut across her reply. “How fortuitous! And timely as well, since you are only now in a position to accept. I’ll just go tell your mother the good news!”
Harmonious left, pulling the white-haired warrior along after him. Rise loped after Ever, who waved goodbye over his father’s shoulder, leaving Kimiko alone with Eloquence.
“I don’t understand what just happened,” she said, easing into the most bewildered posture in her repertoire.
“Where did you get this?” Eloquence repeated.
“Your brother traded with me for the sweets I brought.” She indicated the remnants of her original gift. “He seemed to think you’d like this better, and I didn’t see the harm.”
His expression, his posture—they gave nothing away. Yet she was sure she’d upset him.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
“You don’t know what this is?”
Kimiko’s crisp movement roughly translated, It is there before you. Meaning it should be obvious to anyone. “It’s a comb.”
“This is the very comb that Glint Starmark gave to his bondmate Radiance.”
“Goodness! A family treasure, then,” she murmured. Everyone had heard of Glint, First of Dogs. “No wonder you were concerned. But I never would have kept it, I promise.”
Eloquence shook his head and went on. “This comb came to my father, and it’s been borrowed from time to time by my brothers. The giving of such a gift is highly traditional.”
“I see,” said Kimiko, but she really didn’t.
“This is a traditional betrothal gift.” Eloquence’s voice tightened. “By giving this to me in the presence of my father, you’ve formally declared your intention to court me.”
Kimiko needed a few moments to rally.
“No wonder you looked so stunned! Coming out of the blue. And we hardly know each other.” She knew her words were empty. After all, she’d likely end up contracted to a relative stranger. But she could imagine Eloquence’s dismay. “I take it I’ve made things awkward for you.”
He seemed lost in thought.
“Please, don’t blame Ever. The mistake was mine, and I apologize.” she said. “Would it help if I explained …?”
“No.” He slowly drew the folds of silk around the comb. “No need.”
“But your father thinks I proposed.”
“Because you did propose.”
“But it was an accident.” Kimiko felt as if they were talking in circles.
“It was an accident,” Eloquence quietly acknowledged. “But Dad didn’t take issue.”
Kimiko glanced in the direction Harmonious Starmark had gone. �
��Wasn’t he just teasing us?”
Eloquence’s fingers tightened around the gift, but then he held out his hand. “Are you taking back your offer?”
“I couldn’t!” She waved her hands. “Not the comb, anyhow. It’s obviously precious to your family.”
“So your offer stands?”
The words came cautiously, with a nuance of body language that threw Kimiko for a loop. He wanted her to answer in the affirmative. But she couldn’t fathom why. She asked, “You want it to stand?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked.
Kimiko edged closer and half-whispered, “You’re not making any sense.”
“No?” Eloquence tucked the comb into a pouch at his waist. “It’s really very simple, Kimiko Miyabe. You may proceed with your courtship. I accept your suit.”
TWENTY-TWO
Suitor
“Come inside where it’s warm,” Quen offered. Although he suspected the cold wasn’t responsible for the sudden change in Kimiko’s pallor. Her scent, her posture, her searching gaze—their underlying confusion was unanimous. At least there was no sign of fear or annoyance. She would hear him out.
But she hadn’t lost the trail. “Why would you hold me to this?”
He hesitated. He hedged. “Am I unsuitable?”
Kimiko waved aside his attempt at distraction. “You’re a Starmark. You’re probably going to be one of the world’s most eligible bachelors after graduation. It’s my suitability at question.”
“Because you’re human?”
She seemed baffled. “Your Dad obviously doesn’t have a problem with humans in a general sense. But he was in love.”
“And you’re not.” Quen had a feeling this was going very poorly. Was Kimiko the kind of girl who needed to be charmed … or convinced … or cornered?
“Most reavers don’t have that luxury.” She retreated, but only from the draft coming through the partially open door. “Isn’t an emotional connection considered essential for Amaranthine bonding? Especially for canines. You mate for life.”
The truth was not a terrible one, but it made him feel ungrateful. How to explain? “My role within the pack is … unique. I will not take a bondmate. So this is the only den I will know.”
Kimiko’s brows furrowed. “I know dragons have celibate males, but … not you guys. Then again, I thought the clans didn’t go in for war. You’ll make a lot of people nervous if they ever see you like this.”
His armor. His sword. Quen winced. “Please, don’t mention any of this to anyone.”
“I won’t,” she said simply.
And perhaps because she didn’t ask for more, he gave it. “Dogs have never made war against humans, but we have always defended our dens and our allies. My uncle put me in this for a special occasion.”
She brightened. “Because of the Star Festival?”
“In a way.” This week did hold significance for the pack. Doubly so, now. “Today marks my attainment.”
“Congratulations!” Her hands fluttered through an eclectic series of compliments, some of which didn’t actually apply. Especially the one about antlers. But each conveyed an appropriately celebratory note in keeping with one’s rite of passage. “The Starmark pack is stronger for your place in it.”
Her enthusiasm brought a flush of pleasure, but Quen needed to tell the rest. “I waited a long time for Dad’s acknowledgement. I don’t have my brothers’ height or breadth. I’m … undergrown.”
She looked him up and down, and his insides curled miserably. But he wanted her to know these things, because they were part of the reason he needed her agreement.
Kimiko said, “I never gave it much thought. You’re still taller than the humans. Except Tenma.”
He sighed. There was little use pointing out that members of his clan had some of the largest statures—in both speaking and true forms—and that her people tended to be small. If breeding held true, Ever would certainly outstrip him, for Anna’s build and coloring showed she came from Scandinavian stock.
“And I’m older than you.”
Kimiko actually looked insulted. “Hardly news.”
Quen closed his eyes. “I have twice the years of any Amaranthine in our classroom.”
“Oh. Oh! That’s what Ever meant!” Kimiko’s fingers settled lightly on his arm. “He seemed to think you were unhappy. And he wanted you to have a big boy gift.”
“And you were his choice for me.” He caught her hand but held it loosely. “Or rather, he wanted you to choose me.”
She didn’t resist when he threaded his fingers with hers. But her entire attitude was pointedly neutral. “Why won’t you tell me why?”
“Will you keep a confidence?”
“Yes.”
He wanted to pull her closer, but armor was far from welcoming. So he bowed until his forehead rested against hers. “My place in the family is traditional. I am set apart to serve the pack, not myself. And so I cannot seek a mate. But sometimes, people like me will attract the interest of another.” Quen chose not to add that this exception usually applied to females of exceptional beauty. “I cannot court, but I can be courted.”
Kimiko hummed softly. “Wouldn’t it be better to wait for some nice lady dog to realize she could have a Starmark for her very own?”
“That won’t happen, Kimiko Miyabe.” He swallowed against the lump building in his throat. “Most see my role, not me. And even if they did see me, they would not give chase.”
She didn’t speak, but she seemed offended on his behalf.
“There’s a reason my older brothers call me runt.” Did he really have to say it? Quen muttered, “Females of breeding age are all taller than me.”
Kimiko’s eyes slid shut, and her other hand covered their linked ones. “Does that mean, that you think I’m your only chance? Because … I’m not. One word from your father, and the heralds would be delivering marriage offers by the thousands. You’d have your pick of beauties and beacons.”
“I’m already pitied in private; don’t suggest public shaming.” He rubbed his cheek against hers in silent plea. “Ever gave me to you. I need no other.”
She was smiling, but not happily. “I need to tell you some things, too. For instance, my mother is the biggest gossip in Keishi, so publicity is practically guaranteed. And I also have a duty to my family. I’m supposed to improve the Miyabe bloodline by marrying a reaver of pedigree. And I can’t leave Kikusawa because my people are shrinekeepers.”
Quen didn’t want to hear reasons, no matter how reasonable.
She paused. “But …”
His heart lurched.
“But if I understand your situation clearly, this chance is once-in-a-lifetime. I think I can convince my family that it’s in their best interest for me to have a Starmark of my very own.” Kimiko’s previous calm grew increasingly flustered. “If you’re actually serious.”
He couldn’t quite speak, but he knew a dozen ways to beg that required none. By the fifth, she was smiling. By the eighth, she caught his hands.
“Enough.” Her face had flushed, and her heart had found a quicker pace. “If you’ll help me settle matters with my family, I agree to become your suitor.”
Eloquence didn’t even care that she’d set conditions on her offer. He would fulfill every requirement. Gladly.
“And … can we talk about this more? Another time, of course.” She pulled free and eased toward the door, apology in her posture. “I have work. At the shrine. Festival stuff.”
“I’ll find you at school,” he promised. “Only … one more thing.”
She waited.
“It’s traditional for a couple to signify their intent to proceed with a show of … mutual satisfaction.”
“Oh. Sure.” And she thrust out her hand.
Eloquence guessed he’d put it too delicately. He accepted the handclasp with as much poise as he could muster, but his disappointment must have shown.
“Am I meant to kiss you?” The way her eyes wer
e sparkling, she’d known all along.
“It would be traditional.”
Kimiko’s expression turned wry. “You know, I’ve been mistaken for a boy ever since I was small. I’m going to be teased so much for taking the manly role of suitor. But I won’t mind if you don’t.” And to his amusement, she swept into a courtly bow over his hand. “Forgive my lack of eloquence; words fail in the presence of such beauty. Outshine the brightest stars and guide my way, for I cannot see the path ahead.”
How she’d known the traditional form to use, he couldn’t guess. Did reaver books include chapters on wolvish pledges? More intriguing was the playful use of his name and clan history and the teasing lilt to her delivery. For all her chivalrous posturing, she had a female’s wiles.
Quen really wanted a taste, to see if his already-simmering interest would roll into full boil, but the only kiss he received was on the back of his hand.
And then she was gone.
TWENTY-THREE
Unsettling News
Kimiko’s steps lagged on her way to school the morning after the Star Festival. New Saga’s play had drawn large crowds and thunderous applause, and curiosity-seekers remained thick around the school’s booths even after they ran out of items to sell.
Following the launch of hundreds of starry lanterns, Suuzu had wanted a quieter view of the sky. So she’d invited him and Akira back to Kikusawa Shrine, which was on the city’s fringe. Without her family ever realizing, they scaled the shrine roof and put Keishi’s lights at their back. Long past curfew, she’d stared at the patterns made by winking stars without a thought in her head.
Only after Akira had dozed off, curled comfortably against his nestmate, did Suuzu remark on her quietness. But she had no words yet. Her betrothal to Eloquence was too new to believe, too strange to tell.
At her helpless gesture, he’d beckoned her close and drawn her down. Pillowed on Suuzu’s other shoulder, she’d taken comfort from his calm. The boys spent the night locked away in the archive, and they’d stopped to buy piping hot croquettes and steamed sweet potatoes on the way in to school.