by C. J. Anaya
“I see. I guess your father wouldn’t have been forthcoming with that information considering my reasons for arriving early.”
I felt curious as to what those reasons might be, but knew it would be terribly inappropriate to ask. I waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, I raised my head.
When my eyes met his, I felt the full force of his emotions. Even if I hadn’t been an empath I would have had to have been carved of granite to not feel the alarming mix of emotions this warrior god was experiencing. I sensed shock, fear, joy, and affection. Those feelings of affection seemed to center solely around me. I could almost sense him replaying the last few minutes of our encounter. The moment he considered what might have happened to me if he hadn’t arrived when he did, made his arms around me tighten ever so slightly and a fierce protectiveness settled in, an emotion so all-encompassing I felt my body shake and my knees begin to weaken.
“You’re trembling, Princess. Did that monster hurt you before I came to your aid?”
I shook my head and tried to push away from his iron-clad grip, but I may as well have been pressing against stone.
“Tell me where you are hurt,” he demanded.
“Truthfully, I fear the only thing causing me to tremble so is the proximity of our persons and your arms around me.” I stared resolutely at his chest as I felt heat slip up the back of my neck and wash over my face. “I’m…not used to such close physical contact with…a man.”
I sensed his amusement and satisfaction, though he reluctantly released me. Once freed from his overpowering presence, I stepped back as quickly as I could and inhaled deeply.
“Better?”
“Much.” I nodded but didn’t miss the narrowing of his eyes or the way they continued to analyze every inch of me.
“Now then, Princess, I’m afraid I must demand you tell me what on earth you were doing out in the forest without a single guard to protect you.”
I was certain Katsu was accustomed to throwing out demands and expecting unquestioning compliance. I sighed inwardly, wishing with all my heart that for once in my life I could be the one making the demands and ordering members of the opposite sex around. I also had to scramble mentally to come up with a convincing lie. I was certain if Katsu learned of my involvement with the village and its people, he would put a stop to it—and quite possibly physically punish me as a result. It was certainly no less than my father would have done.
“I left the palace through no fault of my own.” I paused, continuing to grasp for some fabrication that might be believable to this imposing kami. “I received a summons from my father by one of his guards requesting that I meet with him immediately. It was quite early in the morning, but my father has summoned me early before, so I didn’t think it out of the ordinary.” I thought I saw Katsu grimace at that last remark but continued spinning my lie. “No sooner had I left my chambers and walked the length of the hallway, when a cloth was placed over my mouth…and I…remember very little after that. I awoke propped up against a tree, and after gaining my bearings I began making my way back to the palace until…that thing,” I pointed to the black monster on the ground, “attacked me.”
“And I saved you.”
My eyes darted to his, and I felt heat stain my cheeks. “Yes, you saved me.”
I took in Katsu’s features and noted the way his eyes focused in on me as his feelings of affection for me increased. Strange. I had assumed that an arranged marriage between the warrior god and myself would never hold any affection. He’d taken to me immediately, but I couldn’t for the life of me understand why. I held a title and powers that were of little use to me unless I was using them for the good of others. It wasn’t much for him to go on.
I supposed I should have been grateful that he had decided to like me, but other thoughts intruded—thoughts of the young soldier I’d met in Daiki’s tavern, and how much I wished at that exact moment that he had been the one to save me instead of the man I was betrothed to. A terribly ungrateful thought to have, but a thought, and a feeling, I found impossible to dismiss.
“So someone within the palace walls is a traitor to this empire. I can’t say I’m surprised. The emperor has played the fool with his games of intrigue and—” he cut off abruptly.
I sincerely wished for him to elaborate on his political views concerning my father. It never would have occurred to me that Katsu might have a bone to pick with him. I had always assumed he was only interested in the veil and the part he played in keeping balance on the Earth.
There were many things I didn’t fully comprehend, but my future was still being decided for me. I couldn’t play along anymore without the knowledge necessary to understand whether my destiny was certain or if plotting out my own path might be the best course of action. I determined right then and there that regardless of my intentions to escape my union with Katsu, I would do all I could to learn from him what he knew of my father’s plans for the empire.
“I’m interested in the timing, however,” he continued. “Why would an assassination attempt occur the day I send word of my arrival?”
His question chilled me. Why indeed?
“It was fortuitous that you happened upon the attempt on my life on your way to the palace, sir.”
“It was fate, Princess, plain and simple. You and I are meant to be. Not even a well-planned attempt on your life will ever have the power to separate two people destined for one another.”
I swallowed a large lump in my throat and wondered at the tears forming. I was touched by his remarks, and in truth almost craved the loving attention. It wasn’t what I was used to. I reached up to swipe at the corners of my eyes before he noted the moisture there, but I could tell by the strengthening of his emotions for me that he noticed and was fighting to keep his distance as per my request.
“Why do you persist in calling me sir?” he asked, effectively changing the subject.
“This is our first meeting. I suppose I assumed things would be a little more formal.”
“I think after saving you from a human sized cat it’s a little late for formalities.” He gave me a mischievous grin. “Besides, this is hardly our first meeting.”
I knew what he referred to but felt uncomfortable to admit it. The whole experience had left me reeling, knowing I had been found wanting in some way.
“You were presented to me at our betrothal ceremony when you were fifteen,” he continued, “but I wore a traditional mask. You did not see my face at the time, and your face was covered in that traditional white makeup that barely allows a man to actually get a glimpse of his intended. I apologize for not recognizing you much sooner.”
I remembered the lavish party my father had thrown to announce my betrothal to Katsu. In other words, the day I turned fifteen was the day I was eligible for marriage, and Katsu was present at the ceremony. I had no way of knowing what he looked like beneath the traditional betrothal mask. I wasn’t allowed to see him, but he was allowed to look upon me, inspect me as if I was an animal paraded before an audience. It had been humiliating to say the least, and even more so when Katsu never claimed me after the ceremony, as was expected.
Father had never gone into full detail in explaining the reasons behind it. He merely stated that Katsu had found me completely unsuitable, and I would need more training before I could take my rightful place at his side. I’d never wanted to be at his side, but the criticism stung nonetheless. I had waited for some kind of scheduled training or preparation to take place, but nothing other than the increase of abuse to my power through my father’s interrogation techniques occurred. I had been left wondering if perhaps my future husband had found me repulsive. I had hoped he would never return after that humiliating day of rejection.
Yet here he stood, and I was not ready for him. I was not ready for anything other than escape.
“You left. I assumed that would be the last we would see of you for quite some time.”
He looked surprised. “We’re betrothed.
Why would you have assumed such a thing?”
“My father led me to believe you were not happy with…with me.” I felt uncomfortable having to explain myself to a man I barely knew.
I felt Katsu’s anger flash, but he did his best to reign it in. “Your father is a very accomplished liar and a skilled manipulator. I would have stayed to train you, but he felt you were not ready. He insisted it would be better for me to return when you were eighteen and your powers more fully developed.”
Now I felt angry. “My powers were fully developed many years ago, long before my fifteenth birthday. Why would he send you away? Why would he lie to you when all he has ever prepared me for is our inevitable union?”
“Why indeed.” Katsu looked as if he wanted to ask me something, but I could sense his indecision. He felt protective and concerned for my delicate sensibilities. He would have been surprised at the kind of gory experiences I’d been privy to.
“We should return you to the palace. I am sure your absence has created quite a stir.”
“Yes. No doubt the guards at my door will be punished. I would not wish any harm to come to them.”
Katsu approached me slowly. “May I accompany you home then, Princess?”
The question was rhetorical. I doubted he expected me to refuse him.
“You may.”
Katsu delicately took my arm in his and began leading me in the direction of the palace. I swallowed hard. I was not looking forward to the punishment my father would have in store for me, whether he believed my outlandish lie or not.
* * *
“Princess Mikomi, your father wishes to speak with you,” my maid, Aiko, said as she glided into my bedroom.
Anger, trepidation, and fear coursed through my body, a familiar reaction to any amount of time I was sentenced to spend with my father, Emperor Fukurokuju. When I looked up from the piece of parchment paper I was scribbling away on, however, my features revealed nothing. I was a docile puppet and duty bound to honor any summons my father made. I despised it more than I could have possibly described. It was a wonder I was able to conceal my real thoughts in regards to the prison my life had long become.
Upon arriving at the palace, the guards had been instructed to escort me back to my room and await my father’s inquiries. Katsu had been escorted by other guards after he demanded an audience with my father. The guards, though used to orders coming from the emperor, knew better than to argue with a kami. I’d been writing poetry for the better part of an hour in an attempt to calm my nerves while waiting for Aiko to bring me word.
I felt quite ill imagining the several different scenarios this audience with him would bring about. Naturally, he would wish to be made aware of the attempt on my life this morning, but if that was all he wished for he could have been given that information from Katsu and avoided my presence altogether.
He never desired to see me unless his motives were darker in nature. I hadn’t been made to torture anyone in quite some time, but war and intrigue were a part of an emperor’s everyday concern. According to my father, pulling traitorous secrets from prisoners of war, or from the poor and seditious deserters, was an unfortunate necessity if the Empire was to survive and thrive.
“Princess, did you not hear what I said?” Aiko rounded the corner of my chair and smartly took the writing utensil from my already stilled hands.
I wanted to snatch it from her and express to her exactly what was in my heart and mind without that nagging thought of duty, decorum or remembering one’s place and role in the universe. I didn’t want to behave appropriately. I didn’t care to pretend I was willing to obey when every particle of my being wished to rebel. There were so many shockingly truthful things I could have flung at her with enough force and volume to shake the ivory rafters of my room, so many grievances she had already patiently sat through and listened to because that’s what she had done since I’d been a child. Instead, I stood up achingly slowly, the only form of resistance I dared show, and moved to the mirror to check my appearance as she came behind me and adjusted the large decorative bow at my back.
I studied my reflection in the mirror and noted my hair was perfectly coiffed. I only ever wore the decorative headdress for important occasions or meetings with my father. It was heavy and cumbersome, much like the rest of my attire. My olive skin was smooth and unblemished and my brown eyes were a dark amber color, though they held very little life in them. Aiko had managed to fix the mess my late night excursion had reduced me to. I was a reflection of everything my parents wanted me to be. I looked for any signs of discontent in my expression; something that might betray the careful façade I wore day after day.
“Please stop all of this fussing, Aiko.” I covered my frustration by smoothing my silk blue kimono. “I’m sure I look presentable enough.”
Aiko tsked softly, just as she had for seventeen years and stepped away.
“I wish you would concern yourself more with your appearance, mistress,” she said in a disapproving voice.
“Why? During the few times my father allowed me to leave the palace, my face was draped in yards of black silk. Whom do I have to impress?”
“You know just as well as I do that your veil is for your own protection. There are plenty of rabble out there who would love nothing more than to take credit for the death of The Healer. I was referring to your appearance for your father’s sake. He doesn’t usually send for you for mundane tasks.”
“He doesn’t usually send for me at all.” I felt no pain with this remark. I had learned long ago that my “gift” for healing was the only reason my father held any interest in me. I may have been the child of prophecy—I tried not to feel scorn at the much hated title—but it didn’t make me any more important to him than most daughters are to their fathers, regardless of what I was destined to accomplish.
I considered the prophecy and all that Katsu and I were meant to achieve—becoming the only thing standing in the way of Amatsu, demon god and lord of the underworld. I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do less, and up until my attack this morning, I’d found it difficult to accept that such a prophecy existed. If I turned it into a harmless legend, then it had no power over me.
It seemed as if this alleged prophecy benefited my father in some specific way by linking me to Katsu, but for the life of me I couldn’t understand what it was he would have to gain since he had everything. All I did know for certain was that I was capable of healing people who had been injured or were suffering from illnesses, and I was strictly forbidden to use those powers unless directed by my father.
He claimed I needed to save my gift and only use it for healing the veil, but he rarely hesitated to abuse my powers to heal his generals, torture his enemies or extract information from his allies with promises of health and prosperity. I hated the hypocrisy. I hated this palace, but most of all I hated him.
“Mistress, you had better answer your father’s summons quickly. He has never been a patient man.” Aiko interrupted my dark musings.
“He’s not a man, Aiko. He’s a god.”
I turned my back on the docile reflection in the mirror, too sickened by it to look another moment longer, and quickly walked out the darkened cedar door.
* * *
I waited for my father’s servant to fetch me in the summoning room, a highly decorative formal sitting area where people were made to feel intimidated by the painted portraits of important ancestors from my mother’s side of the family. All men, of course. The paintings were detailed, enhancing the vibrant colors of their Hakama, a pleated garment worn over their clothing, which was meant to illustrate their station and wealth. The more embellishments upon their robes, the higher their station.
I supposed it would have been intimidating to have painted portraits of my father’s ancestry peppering the walls, but the only beings he claimed for parentage were the original creators of all kami everywhere, and any image painted of them would never have done them sufficient justice. Precious few kami co
uld claim the privilege of laying eyes upon them.
I sighed heavily. I knew I should have felt more awe and respect for the gods of this universe, but all I truly felt was disgust. They were immortal, nothing more. They may have possessed incredible powers for keeping the world in balance, but I found that many of them never used those powers in accordance with the laws that their First Parents supposedly governed them with.
Take my father, for instance. He was a protector of life and longevity, yet all I witnessed from him was repression and tyranny, killing those who would willing speak up or fight against the deplorable living conditions everyone but the royal family were subjected to.
As someone half immortal, I too had powers gifted to me but was forbidden to use them the way I saw fit. I wanted to help. I wanted to heal. I wanted control over my life and the lives of those I could protect.
My angry musings were interrupted by the arrival of my father. His presence was highly unusual. I was always greeted by his adviser and brought to wherever it was he was located.
I immediately bowed from the waist and kept my eyes on the floor out of deference and respect. My anger all the while was simmering just below the surface. I felt him lift my chin and grant me permission to stand. I kept my eyes lowered until he snapped his fingers, signaling that I was allowed to look upon him. His robes were covered in threaded gold embellishments. Never willing to understate his position, he wore nothing but the finest clothing created by the most talented seamstresses in the empire. He appeared extremely excited—highly unusual for him.
I startled when he wrapped his arms around me and embraced me for the first time in my entire life. I stiffened in surprise, uncertain and anxious. I wondered if he wished for me to return this affection with that of my own.
I nearly brought my arms about his bulky robes, but he was already pulling away, placing hands on both my shoulders, and bestowing upon me one of his rare smiles.
