Favored (Among the Favored Book 1)

by Stone, C. L.

  The Taka fluttered his wings and whistled a few notes. He seemed to delight in the walk as well.

  Something came over me in that moment. My happiness filtered through my lips, and I hummed to it, the same folk song I’d sung to him before.

  He whistled the tune to me in return and then repeated it.

  I started to sing the words:

  To have nothing is to have no distress.

  To have nothing is to have every path before us.

  To have nothing is how we all end up.

  I paused before singing the next line when a loud humming began.

  Too loud to be the bird.

  Too loud to be the guys.

  It was a single hum, deep like the grinding of the stone at the wall, yet it reverberated through me to my heart.

  It hummed the same song.

  It sang the same lines I did.

  I stood, staring at the dragon wall, mouth agape. It was coming from the dragons. One of them was singing.

  The singing stopped. The bird hummed, but that was it.

  The boys looked to me, with questions in their eyes.

  “Why did you stop?” Sota asked. “It was a lovely tune.”

  “Did you hear that?” I pointed to the wall. “It was singing.”

  “I only hear the constant grinding,” Ryuu said and stuck a finger in his ear to rub it. “It’s making my ears ring.”

  Shima raised an eyebrow, looking at the others, then down at his feet.

  “But the dragon sang,” I said. “One of them did. It was so loud. Didn’t you hear it?”

  Sota and Ryuu looked at each other, puzzlement scrunching their eyebrows. Shima kept his head lowered.

  “I think you’re more tired than we realized,” Sota said. “It might be time to head back.”

  I couldn’t believe they hadn’t heard it, and suddenly I wondered if Sota was right. I questioned my own sanity.

  The wall couldn’t sing. The dragons were magic, but they didn’t talk.

  I turned away from it, and the Taka rested on my shoulder. But then I glanced back at Shima, who had paused, looking at the wall, the same puzzlement in his face. He looked at me, his lips pursed, but there was a moment between us where I was sure.

  He had heard it, too.

  I didn’t understand why he hadn’t said anything. But he shook his head and put a finger to his lips. Don’t talk about it.

  Sota and Ryuu encouraged me to walk so we could go back. I only looked once more at Shima, who encouraged me to go.

  “Since we’re out, I should check on the oxen,” Shima said. “I’ll be back tonight.”

  He darted away from us before Sota could agree or disagree. When Shima was gone, Sota was the one grumbling. “He can’t disappear so much in the palace.”

  “Does he really go check on the oxen?” Ryuu asked. “Maybe we should follow him.”

  “He does, indeed, go to the oxen,” Sota said. “I have followed him. He must exercise them, or they get restless. And he is the only one who can handle them. But if he joins Mizuki in the palace, I don’t know if we’ll need the oxen.”

  I felt sorry for Shima, who cared a lot for his ghost animals. But I also wondered why he had run off, and why he’d insisted I not talk about the dragon’s singing.

  THE REGISTRY

  SHIMA DIDN’T RETURN until so early in the morning, I was sure that he wouldn’t get up when Sota told us to. However, Shima got up just as usual. He didn’t seem too tired. I wondered if he’d slept a bit with the oxen.

  He avoided looking at me. I wondered if it was about the singing dragon. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he hadn’t heard it, and now he thought I was crazy.

  For the next two days, I dressed in the kimono I had been given, putting on makeup and everything included. I practiced my walking around the house, no longer allowed to leave. I practiced going up and down the steps in geta. I ate without ruining my lips. I was given a new sort of pillow, one that braced my neck but kept my hair off the floor. It was to keep my hair from becoming a mess in the morning, but it made it uncomfortable to sleep.

  I read, ate, walked, used a fan, and did all my activities while wearing full clothing and makeup. In the evening, I was washed, sometimes by Shima as Sota and Ryuu put the clothing away. Ryuu discussed economics with me. Shima reviewed etiquette. Sota constantly went over the emperor’s expectations for his court.

  On the evening before registration, Sota sat with me while I tried to eat. Ryuu followed Shima to visit the oxen. Now that we were getting close to registration, Sota denied Shima the opportunity to go alone.

  I held on to my soup bowl delicately. “Is there any clue as to this special position?” I asked. “The one that’s so secret?”

  “No,” Sota said. He ate with me, even as he often said he wouldn’t be in the palace. He put aside his rice bowl. “Only the emperor knows for sure, I think.”

  “You think?”

  Sota pressed his lips together. “I’ve been going over the court positions that are open, from governors to fortune-tellers and scholars, even down to bannermen. Every spot I could name. I’ve checked the historic records for positions I perhaps never knew about that he wanted to revive. With all this research, I don’t know what the emperor is looking for. But his lack of description to define exactly what he is looking for eludes me.”

  “He doesn’t...” I was about to finish, but the words I wanted to use would be inappropriate to use against our emperor. I reconsidered my words. “I wish I knew what he wanted, so we could best please him.”

  Sota nodded. “I know others have asked, such as Mrs. Satsu, but they were denied any more information. ‘Just bring me the best,’ the emperor said. That was all.”

  “The best what?”

  Sota shook his head. “No one knows. Mrs. Satsu picked beautiful women and men, the best looking, but also selected those with different backgrounds, some regal, pure bloodlines from way back. And for some, she picked...for reasons I can’t even fathom.” He looked at me, his eyes studying my face.

  “Like me,” I said. My shoulders lowered, my posture slumping. “You don’t know why she picked me.”

  He caught my chin with a finger, raising my head for me and reminding me not to look down. Where normally he would have pulled his finger away immediately, he kept it there, touching my chin and meeting my eyes in a way I knew he wasn’t supposed to.

  “I know why she picked you,” he said. “I see the same. I have seen the others in this house, and you are the best. She did well to find you.”

  His touch drew more attention from me than his words. The lingering warmth against my skin surprised me. He touched my body often when he washed and dressed me, but this was the first time he seemed to do so with such intent.

  I kept my gaze on his face, meeting his eyes full-on. “I’m going to need you, Sota,” I said. “I’d be completely lost without you. I don’t understand what I’m doing. And if I fail...”

  “I’ll be there when you rise or fall,” he said. “I have promised, and...” He leaned in a little and whispered, “I will not leave you. If the emperor sends you back to your village, I will follow.”

  My breath slowed. His light eyes remained steady, and I felt he meant it, even if he had spoken similarly before. Only there was something else in his meaning, something he wasn’t saying.

  “Could...,” I said quietly. “Could I ask you something?”

  “You may always ask me anything,” he said.

  “If I were to enter the court, and have a palace...what...about...a husband?”

  He blinked rapidly, as if waking up, and suddenly released my chin. “For you?”

  “I used to read about the relationships that happened inside the court, but the books were old, and I think sometimes fanciful. I don’t know really what might be the truth. Mostly I hear about the emperor, and his many wives. What about the others?”

  He sat back on his heels and considered my question. “Depending on your position, you
might choose a husband. Some men have multiple wives, sometimes gifted to them by the emperor or foreign diplomats.”

  “Do the women in said positions have the same?”

  He nodded slowly. “In some cases, the giving of heavenly gifts is bestowed on even maids or workers as the emperor may see fit.”

  I swallowed, finding my throat suddenly dry, and I sipped my soup, contemplating the romances I had read about in books. They were truer than I had realized. It wasn’t completely uncommon in the village for a woman or man to take on a second spouse sometimes, but with so few people in the village, it didn’t happen often.

  Sota lowered his gaze from my face back to his rice bowl. I got lost in ideas, drifting away from thoughts of royal court life, and for the first time, I pondered if I would ever have time for a personal life inside a palace. Getting dressed, eating, reading and more consumed so much time—how did one have any energy for much more?

  The next day, I was dressed in the kimono, without makeup. Mrs. Satsu had finally given us permission to head to the registry office.

  “Shima,” I said as he was tying on my obi around my waist, “will you at least register?”

  “I will,” he said. “I will do what I set out to do. Just in case.” He looked up at me. “If I am chosen,” he said slowly, “and you are not, I will want you with me.”

  I smiled at him. “I’d happily be your escort.”

  “Or something else,” he said. He blinked a few times and shook his head. “But I doubt I will be the one. It will more likely be you.”

  Shima and Ryuu dressed in nicer kimono as well, men’s, and formal. Ryuu fiddled with the bigger sleeves, and Shima tugged often at the neck. Sota was constantly batting at their hands.

  “Keep them to your sides,” he said.

  They both did, but their fingers twitched.

  “I’m so nervous,” Ryuu said.

  “It’s only registration,” Sota said. “You won’t be chosen yet, but you can be eliminated if you don’t behave and fill in the registry correctly.”

  Once they were finished, we met Mrs. Satsu in the front entry room. She inspected each of us and gave her approval.

  “Once you pass the initial registration, I’ll be down there this evening to apply my seal,” she said. “This will make it known to the overseers and to the emperor that each of you is one of mine.”

  “You only get to pick three,” I said. “How will we know if we were given your seal?”

  “You’ll find out at the end,” she said. “Those of us giving our seals were told to do it this way, to help prevent ...problems.” She glanced at me carefully. “And you know what I mean.”

  The ruined kimono. This was to protect us from anything further.

  This made me nervous. No one else had dropped out or been eliminated, not after the first girl and her escort had been removed by the guards. I barely knew the other girls. I’d only ever spoken to Apricot. Whoever had damaged the kimono was still out there, one of the others inside the house. Why me, I still didn’t know, but I considered this new information, that we wouldn’t know who had been given a seal. Would that save me from something much worse?

  None of the other girls had approached me, either. While some had gained a few friends or relatives as additional companions, the selected among Mrs. Satsu’s choices did not speak to each other. Eyes were kept straight ahead each time they crossed paths with anyone else.

  It was a shame, perhaps, but I wondered if they felt like me: too afraid to make enemies. I did similarly, not being rude, as they were probably going to be selected for court as well. However, the competition for this secret position, and the threat among us, forced us to keep a considerable distance.

  We left Mrs. Satsu’s, and I kept my head up but walked aimlessly alongside Ryuu, not focusing on anything. Thinking too much about the registration had me shaking.

  When we were almost there, I felt a strong hand at my back.

  “I will be with you when you rise or fall,” Sota said in my ear.

  I took in a deep breath, hoping for strength. I still owed Mrs. Satsu for the kimono that had been destroyed, and asking them to follow me if I did fail was asking them to take on the debt with me. It made it more prudent to succeed. Not having the makeup, though, suddenly made me feel like a cow among swans again.

  The registration office was the largest red wooden building closest to the wall. Sota took us the long way around to avoid too many people seeing us. There were rumors of poor kids throwing eggs and dung at any approaching, and taking money for doing so from anyone who would pay. The guards had stopped a few of them, but many kept their faces covered and ran faster than the guards.

  Ryuu kept rubbing his hands together as we approached the building. “I’m so nervous,” he said. “It’s like my first time negotiating with someone from another country. I’m worried I’ll offend someone just by looking at them for too long, or coughing.”

  “Don’t cough,” Sota said.

  I thought Ryuu was handsome in a better-fitting kimono, with his dark hair combed back away from his face, making his cheekbones appear higher, and his onyx eyes sparkled. Shima was traditionally handsome, appearing taller, and his strong face and steadfast gaze made him appealing. He looked like anyone else here. With his practiced walk and the way he held himself, the difference was amazing to me.

  We entered the building, and Ryuu, Shima and I were immediately separated as men and women registered in different parts of the building. Sota was told to wait in the main hall. I was to go on alone.

  Sota rubbed my arm in a calm, soothing way. “This is only registration,” he said. “You’ll do fine. Just do what you’re told. You’re safe from harm in these walls. No one will even attempt to get at you here. However, you should...be careful.”

  I wanted to believe him, and I tried to calm my nerves. I couldn’t help picturing that they’d see me as a little peasant girl and would eliminate me on sight.

  I was ushered by royal guards to the second floor. There were carpets as red as the wood along the hallway, and tapestries of men and women on horseback, riding into the wild for a hunt. There were vases taller than me holding up fronds and huge flowers high above our heads. The sheer decadence of the surroundings reminded me of where I had come from. What was a fisherman’s daughter doing in a place like this?

  I was brought to a grand room with a very large dark wooden desk. Behind it sat a rotund bearded man, probably the largest I’d ever seen. I wondered if he had been an entertainer prior to his position, as I’d heard of men as big as him in plays, singing, or perhaps fighting bare-chested in a ring or wrestling wild animals.

  He scratched at a sheet of paper with the point of a dry pen, appearing bored.

  The guards remained at the door after they told me to go to the desk. I moved to stand in front of the man, and he raised his eyes to me, his boredom dissipating and his cheeks bunching up in a smile. “I haven’t seen a beautiful face in days,” he said. “Everyone else registered early. I’ve been stuck in this room alone for a while.”

  I smiled pleasantly, lowering my eyes diminutively like I’d been taught, to show respect, before looking at him dead-on to steal his heart. “You must work so hard,” I said softly. “Your loyalty shows, but I didn’t expect someone with such charm.”

  He clutched at his chest like I’d struck him, and his cheeks turned red. His grin broadened. “Don’t torture me so,” he said with a laugh in his voice. “You’ll make me wish I was younger, and not a married old man with many children.” He tapped his pen at an ink stone near him, already wet with freshly ground ink. “I’m not the one you need to sweet-talk, you see. I’m just the recordkeeper. Tell me your name and the names of your parents, and where you’re from.”

  I couldn’t believe it had worked. Apricot had advised me that pleasing the registration official would ensure he didn’t put unfavorable notes on my documents. “Treat everyone with respect, and a little flirting,” she had said. “Win
hearts at every turn. You will need the loyalty of everyone you meet, when possible.”

  I smiled and gazed into the man’s eyes as often as I could without being too obvious.

  He asked me a series of questions, very similar to what Mrs. Satsu had asked me in the beginning. He summoned a boy from a back room, who brought him documents. The man went through my charts and filled out a formal registration document step by step.

  When he wrote down that my father was a general. I didn’t dare to ask, but I wondered why my father hadn’t told me. And why had he traded his career as general for the life of a fisherman?

  The man behind the desk looked over the details of my registration. “All here,” he said and picked up a stick of wax. He warmed it over a candle nearby until the tip liquefied. He splattered the page with the wax and then stamped it with a golden seal. “You’re approved for inspection. It’ll be held tomorrow.” He told me the time. “You were just in time. Today was the last day.”

  It was simpler than I’d thought, but as Sota had said, this wasn’t to be the worst of it. Inspection would eliminate many people.

  I left the office, finding Sota waiting for me downstairs.

  “I’m approved,” I said. I told him the time I was to show up.

  “Of course you were,” he said. “And I have a feeling Mrs. Satsu will be applying her seal to it. If she has any sense...”

  “Don’t talk like that,” I said. “She’s done us all a great favor, taking in complete strangers and trusting us.” Now that we had gotten to this point, I was aware of how much I’d learned over the couple of weeks, and was glad I’d decided to join her. I felt more prepared, even if I hadn’t been schooled in etiquette and politics since birth. I had a lot more to learn, but it felt good to have gotten at least this far. I would have been way out of my depth had I registered as I was a couple of weeks ago. What would that man have put in my documents if I had shown up with a dirty face and speaking roughly?

  “I know,” Sota said to me in a softer tone. “We will thank Mrs. Satsu in good time. Let’s wait for the others.”