by Claire Luana
At his words, Azura pulled her eyes from where they had been locked with the seishen’s own.
“I have to ask that you don’t stare,” the man said. “He’s intolerably full of himself already.”
The seishen snorted and threw its head.
Azura saw this only in the periphery of her vision, because now her eyes were locked on the man, drinking in the sight of him as if he was the last well-spring of water in a dying land.
The man removed his dusty brown hat and bowed low before her, his wavy golden-haired head nearly touching his knee. When he rose, it felt like she was seeing a man for the first time, like she had discovered an entirely new species. He was tall and broad-shouldered, standing at least a head above her. Though his clothes were dirty from the road, they were fine and well-tailored to fit his muscular form. Her eyes traced the planes and angles of his face to where faint laugh lines paralleled his wide mouth and strong square jaw. Her examination continued up his straight nose to where golden brows arched over intelligent brown eyes, topped with long golden lashes that looked as soft as a new lamb’s wool.
“I am Takeo and this is Bako. We’re pleased to meet you.”
“Well met,” she said, when she found her tongue again. It took an embarrassingly long moment. “My name is…Wilea, and this is Lyra.”
She knew it was foolish to give him a fake name. He didn’t seem to intend her harm, and so if anything, giving her true name should make him more deferential. But she…didn’t want that.
“I’ve been riding for a few days, Wilea. Do you mind if I sit and rest for a moment?”
“No,” she said, though she knew she should have said yes.
Takeo patted his seishen Bako on the shoulder and the seishen moved under the shade of the big tree to graze. Azura realized that Bako didn’t have a bridle on. She supposed when one’s mount is highly intelligent and could speak, such crude equipment became unnecessary.
Takeo sat heavily on the grass next to her cloak, his joints cracking. He was very large. Solid. As soon as she sat down next to him, she mentally chided herself. Why had she sat so close to him? She was too close. But if she tried to move away, it would seem rude.
From her seat at his side, he smelled of sweat and leather, but not unpleasantly. It was an honest smell.
He had pulled a water flask from his saddle bag and he took a long swig. He offered it to her and she shook her head.
“Well, you’re not nearly as scary as the stories make you out to be,” he said.
“What?” she asked, her heart skipping a beat. Had he recognized her somehow?
“A moonburner,” he said. “You’re the first one I’ve met,”
She relaxed and chuckled. “Ah yes. Well we do ride bats and steal children at night, so watch out for that.”
“I’ve got no children to steal, so I needn’t worry,” he said with a warm smile. Was he hinting to her that he was unattached? No. Surely she was reading too far into it.
“You’re far less fearsome than I had heard, as well,” she said.
“First sunburner?”
“First sunburner,” she said. “Is it true that you eat the hearts of your enemies raw and then bathe in their blood?”
“Don’t you?” he asked, feigning surprise.
“We prefer our hearts in our chests and our baths the usual way,” she said.
“You’re quite forward, aren’t you,” he said, his deep brown eyes twinkling with mirth. “Tempting a man with talk of the bath? Is that how they do things in Miina?”
“No,” she stuttered, her face coloring. She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“I do,” he said. “But you left yourself open with that comment. I couldn’t help myself.”
“I’ll keep my guard up from now on,” she said.
“That’s really not necessary, my lady,” he said. “I’ll behave.” But the hammering in her heart told her she wasn’t sure she wanted him to.
“Are you part of Price Ozora’s delegation?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m Captain of his Guard,” he said. “I was sent ahead to ensure all the arrangements have been made for his comfort . . . And safety.”
“You want to make sure no one will put a knife in his back,” she said.
“Well yes, but Queen Isia invited us, so we don’t think that is likely. Mostly I ensure he has the right flavor of sake, the right feathers in his pillows. You know royals,” he said. “Very particular.”
“I do,” she said, chuckling.
“Any tips for me when we reach the citadel? People to watch out for? Topics to avoid?”
“Besides the last hundred years of war?” Azura said with a wry smile.
“Naturally, besides that.”
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Azura said. “We are hopeful, but wary. It takes time to build trust.”
“No sudden movements,” he said.
“Exactly,” she said. “And…” she hesitated. “The king shouldn’t be too…boastful.”
“Boastful?” he asked.
“In Miina, you sunburners have a reputation for thinking…quite highly of yourselves. And talking about it more. It’s better for King Ozora to have some humility, to prove the stereotype wrong.”
“That’s like telling Bako here that he’s just a donkey.”
Bako snorted, stamping his foot.
“I’m not calling you a donkey, it was an example,” he said to Bako, holding his hands up placatingly. “All right, I appreciate the insight. And what of Azura? The princess?”
“What of her?” Azura said, looking down, her ears suddenly burning.
“Is she truly the most beautiful woman in Miina?” Takeo said.
Azura’s ears burned in earnest now, and a blush colored her cheeks fiercely. “An exaggeration, surely,” she mumbled.
“It must be,” Takeo said. “Because I cannot imagine a woman more beautiful than the one that sits before me.” He reached up gently and tucked a lock of her silver hair behind her ear.
She slowly looked up, her eyes meeting his, melting into the deep pools of brown. Did he know who she really was? Was he testing her defenses, sensing for her weaknesses?
But in that moment, looking into his achingly perfect face, with his locks of golden hair curling around his temples, none of it mattered. She was drawn to his light like a moth to a flame.
CHAPTER 3
Takeo
Takeo and Azura talked for hours, the warm sun making its course across the bright blue sky until it cast shadows in the grass. They exchanged stories of home and growing up, poked fun at one another, and shared a simple meal of dried fruit from his saddlebag and cold buns stuffed with spiced meat from hers. As they lay side by side and watched the clouds pass, Takeo’s fingers found Azura’s and twined through them. The feel of her soft hand set his heart racing faster than the first time he and Bako had raced across the Churitsu Plain.
Takeo should have begged his leave and said goodbye hours ago, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her. King Ozora’s delegation was surely catching up, and how would he explain that he had not yet made it into Kyuden? But these thoughts were hazy and elusive, his common sense powerless to overcome the spell she had placed on him. The heat from her smooth hand clasped in his, the orange-blossom scent of her hair, and the steady rhythm of her breathing swirled around him in an intoxicating combination.
Takeo rolled over on his side, propping his head up on one hand, examining her fine features. This Wilea was quite surely the loveliest creature he had ever seen. He had courted women in Kistana before, had even been with a few beauties, but none could hold a candle to this moonburner. Her lustrous silver hair cascaded down around her like a waterfall, framing her face, round and smooth like a doll’s. It was a face filled with exquisitely-crafted features, striking storm-cloud eyes with long lashes, a small nose, and a full button mouth that was turned up at the corners in a half smile as she watched him silently. It was a mou
th he longed to kiss.
He had resisted for hours, savoring her sweet innocence and the pleasure of their conversation, not wanting to be too forward. But their borrowed time was coming to a close, and who knew when he would see her again. He could hold himself back no longer. He gently stroked her face, tracing the line of her cheekbone, her ear. Her ears poked out under her silver hair, perhaps the only feature that might not be seen as classically beautiful. But to him, the imperfection only made her more real. She hadn’t shied away from his caress, and so he leaned in and kissed her. Her hand slipped around his back and tightened in the fabric of his shirt and so he kissed her again, drinking in the taste of her.
The sound of a horn in the distance broke the spell that had fallen over them. She pulled back with wide eyes, her breath caught in her throat.
“It’s the sunburners,” he said, half growling in frustration. “They’ve caught up with me.”
“I should go,” she said, pulling away completely and standing up. She yanked her cloak out from under him, sending him rolling off the edge.
He stood, suddenly unsure if he had pushed her too far. Did she regret their kiss?
“Wilea,” he said, grabbing her hand as she turned to go. “Have I offended you?”
“No,” she said, though tears threatened in her eyes. “I’m not supposed to be outside of the citadel alone,” she admitted. “I’d rather not be caught up with the king’s delegation.”
“Of course,” he said, releasing her. “I will see you at the citadel, won’t I?” he asked as she swung onto her tall gray steed. The thought of not seeing her again struck terror in his heart.
“You will, Takeo,” she said. Her voice was sad. What had upset her? “I will cherish this day in my heart.”
And with that strange goodbye, she struck her horse’s flanks with her heels and set off at a gallop, leaving him standing under the tree with his heart in his hand.
Takeo’s mind raced as he trotted back towards the main road to meet his king and countrymen.
“Wilea,” he said softly, turning the name over on his tongue like a caress.
“When did you become a lovesick schoolgirl?” Bako asked beneath him.
“Not a word from you,” he muttered to his seishen.
Takeo came upon King Ozora’s delegation within five minutes.
“Takeo!” The king called from the back of his massive black stallion. “Back so soon?” Next to the king padded his seishen, a sleek golden leopard.
“Your majesty,” Takeo said, directing Bako with his knees to fall in beside the King. “I made it to the gate, but decided not to go inside.” He pushed down his guilt over the lie.
“Is that so? After you were so insistent about scouting ahead?”
“I thought about it and realized you were right,” Takeo said. “It does us no favors to skulk into the citadel like criminals. We are honored guests, and it’s the middle of the day. We should show no fear.”
“That’s the spirit!” the king clapped him on the shoulder with a strong hand. “We are sunburners. We fear no man.”
“Or woman,” Takeo joked.
“Especially no woman,” the king said.
Takeo eyed King Ozora sideways as they rode. The king was a man touched by Taiyo the sun-god himself, his neatly-cut golden hair and bronzed skin seeming to glow with health. He stood tall and strong, with the easy manner of someone who had never experienced any of life’s hardships or petty disappointments. The king’s most striking feature was his cool green eyes, which contrasted the warm golden hues he was painted in.
Takeo and Ozora had been raised together in the court at Kistana, and he loved the man like a brother. Ozora could be stubborn and petty, but he had the makings of a good ruler. He wanted what was best for his people, as evidenced by the cease fire and these peace talks. Ozora, despite his youth and inexperience, was closer to peace than any Kitan king in generations.
But Takeo feared that Ozora underestimated the moonburners, thinking them more akin to the demure women of their own kingdom. They had argued for days about how many sunburners and soldiers to bring on the trip to Miina, about the wisdom of the king going at all. The king had finally put an end to the debate with an angry outburst. “I refuse to be afraid of a bunch of women. I’m going with my four best sunburners.” Takeo had declined to point out to the king that the “bunch of women” were renowned warriors, against whom the sunburners had no defenses after nightfall. But there was no arguing with him once his mind was made up.
The sunburners made their way through the streets of Kyuden towards the tall white walls of the moonburner citadel. The citadel sat proudly on a hill above the city, imposing its presence on them no matter what corner they turned. Kyuden was a pretty city, he supposed, its cobblestone streets lined with whitewashed brick buildings and topped with black and blue curved tile roofs. They passed by parks with green trees, squares with burbling fountains, and cheerful market squares full of colorful tents and vendors hawking their wares.
Those citizens that observed their passage bore a range of expressions, from guarded worry, to unfriendly frowns, to downright hostility and hatred. He understood. The sun and moonburners had been enemies for generations. There was surely no family across either land that had not felt the deadly touch of the war. Luckily, no citizen was foolish enough to threaten any sort of violence. Night was falling, so the sunburners were significantly weakened, but the prospect of attacking fourteen armed men and three seishen seemed to be enough to dissuade even the most virulent detractor.
Takeo glanced back at their party, made up of three other sunburners and ten of the king’s elite guards, their crimson uniforms like spots of blood against the muted cityscape. Could he trust the other men to stay calm and diplomatic when surrounded by their ancient enemies? Takeo liked Ipan, a huge barrel-chested man with short blonde hair and a neck like a tree trunk. With his booming laugh and a jovial attitude, Ipan would no doubt be sharing sake and jokes with them before Takeo had a chance to check the exits.
The other two he knew less about. The twin brothers were short but stout and well-muscled, and the only way Takeo could tell them apart was the notch in Ryat’s ear where an arrow had narrowly missed his head. The brothers kept to themselves, but were not unfriendly. He’d have to get to know them better on this trip.
Finally, they reached the crest of the high hill above the city and arrived at the gates of the citadel. The headmistress of the citadel, an impossibly tall older woman named Mistress Lakota, met them at the gate. The citadel gates yawned into a wide courtyard where white-liveried servants flocked to take their luggage and their steeds.
Takeo swung down from the saddle and turned to the wide-eyed stable boy who had come to collect Bako. “He likes leafy green hay if you have it, and light on the sweet feed, and don’t lock his stall door. He doesn’t like to be confined. He’s not a horse.”
The stable boy bobbed his head, but then hesitated. “He..he…has no reins, sir.”
“He will follow you,” Takeo said with a smile, and patted Bako. “I’ll come see you later,” he said.
“The servants will show you to your rooms, where you may rest and bathe,” Mistress Lakota said. “The Queen has prepared a feast at sunrise.”
CHAPTER 4
Takeo
Takeo tossed and turned in the oversized goose-feather bed. The accommodations were much more than he was accustomed to. While the king’s captain was entitled to opulent rooms in a wing of the sunburner palace, Takeo had turned down the quarters in favor of a small set of rooms near the stable, so he could be close to Bako. The upper wings of the palace weren’t sized for a horse, even if it was a seishen.
His mind whirred with thoughts of Wilea. Would she be at the feast? Would he get a chance to speak to her again? He wished he knew more about her role within the moonburners. Every time he had tried to ask her, she had diverted the subject masterfully. Would the queen allow her to leave her service, if Wilea wished it? Were
moonburners even allowed to marry? He flopped his hands down on the silken comforter with exasperation. He was getting way, way ahead of himself. But the thought stayed firmly lodged at the forefront of his mind, refusing to be banished. Denying it would do him no good. He wanted to marry her.
Takeo rested his hands beneath his head and daydreamed about their life together, the golden-haired sons and silver-haired daughters she would bear him. King Ozora would petition Queen Isia for him. Or perhaps Ozora could ask Azura, his likely future bride. He would win Wilea her freedom from the moonburners and take her back to Kistana.
Takeo must have finally drifted off to sleep because a firm knock at his door awoke him with a start.
“Takeo,” a muffled voice said from the other side.
Takeo rolled out of bed, wiped the sleep from his eyes, and pulled the door open. It was Ipan, already bathed and sporting a fresh uniform.
“You going to laze around all night?” Ipan asked. “It’s almost time for the feast. The king wants you to attend him.”
“Curses,” Takeo said. “Give me five minutes.” Takeo flew about the room, running a wet comb through his unruly golden hair, splashing water on his face. Thank Taiyo he had bathed before bed. He rustled in his saddlebags and pulled out the finest clothing he had brought, a forest green tunic of soft cotton, trimmed at the collar and wrists in gold, and a pair of tight brown trousers with a gold stripe up the side. He dusted off his worn brown boots and pulled them on and buckled on his sword belt and scabbard. Though the moonburners had invited them to Kyuden for these peace talks, he wouldn’t let down his guard. His king was counting on him.
When he pulled the door open, Ipan was grinning on the other side. “A wittle sweepy, are we?” he asked in a childlike voice.
Takeo punched him playfully in the shoulder, but Ipan didn’t even grunt. The man was a built like a fortress.
