Falling For Them: A New Adult Reverse Harem Collection

by C. L. Stone

  She pursed her lips and gave me a solid squeeze at my elbow “I can’t promise you’ll be chosen,” she whispered. “But I can say that with my training, you’ll be leagues ahead of anyone else registering right now. I know what the emperor is looking for.”

  I was oddly drawn to her words, and the intrigue. I looked at her hands, delicate, and her jewels, and her manner, and believed she knew things she wasn’t telling me. At her age, she probably knew a lot about the royal court, and could teach me. “I’ll go with you,” I said.

  “I thought you might be interested,” Dr. Aoi said. He stepped sideways, toward one of the fireplaces and warmed his hands. “See, Mrs. Satsu? I told you she’d be a good choice.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought such a girl would live in a place like this,” she said, eyeballing the small house, the books and the twin fireplaces. “But I’ve got a good feeling about it.”

  I muttered a thank you, unsure how to take her comments.

  “Meet at the docks in the morning,” she said. “Bring only what you can’t live without, and the bird.” She turned from me, heading to the door, and out into the night without another word.

  Dr. Aoi stayed behind and relaxed his shoulders once she was gone. “She was in the street after an announcement about the decree. She recited a poem. I understood it to mean she wanted intelligent women who qualified for this registration. I thought of you.”

  “I never knew my father was a general.”

  “He retired when he met your mother.” He looked around my house, blinked his shimmering eyes and nodded firmly without looking at me. “I’ll look after the place while you’re gone.”

  A swell of emotion filled me. He had been the only one in the village to visit me, and helped to tide my loneliness. When I was sick, he healed me. Even now, my heartstrings were tight to think of leaving him. No matter what happened, I’d never forget him. “I’ll do my best.”

  “I know you will,” he said, and walked back out into the night.

  3

  FLIGHT

  I didn’t sleep. I thought of the new changes to the country and what they might mean for me. I thought of the bird and the old woman, and her promises.

  I thought of Ryuu.

  I couldn’t tell if he fibbed or if he was sincere in his disinterest in this registration. Maybe he didn’t see a profit in it. He might end up stuck in the city, unable to roam like he wished, and possibly with fewer profits than he could get as a trader.

  Did I want to be in the city? Did I want to succeed and be part of the royal court?

  I asked myself this again and again, as if testing myself, and my answer was always a resounding yes. A position possibly meant never being hungry again, or worrying about the next winter. And who knew what I’d be able to see and do in the city.

  It was a risk. I could go and not be selected, and left to starve after missing the fall harvest.

  Or I could be selected for a position among the court. Could I be an advisor? A minister? I tried to think of other court positions, and what might need to be filled, and what I could do.

  I wondered if the emperor needed a girl who knew how to chase rabbits from cabbages. Unlikely.

  Just before the sun rose, I got up and went to the garden. I collected some hearty carrots and radishes for the road, along with some dried nuts and fruits. Maybe if this registration and examination didn’t take too long, I’d be back in a few weeks.

  My lip was tight, but the swelling had diminished. I covered it with cooking oil with hope it would soothe it and it would look normal by the time I got to wherever we were going.

  I created a makeshift pack from an old robe that belonged to my father, bound with vines from the willow tree. Packing was simple. I didn’t have much: a small bag of nuts and dried fruit and vegetables from the garden, the five taels from Ryuu, two of my favorite books, a worn wood comb from my mother, an old cloak that belonged to my father, the clothes on my back and the bird.

  All except the cage was easy enough to carry on my back. The bird I let sit on my shoulder, and the cage I carried in my hands. The metal frame was heavy, and I was tempted to leave it behind, but I didn’t know if I might need it later to keep the Taka safe.

  He whistled a few notes in my ear, but relaxed on my shoulder. His silvery eyes darted to my face with curiosity.

  I looked around the room, saying goodbye, and trying not to think too much about what I was leaving behind. I was very comfortable in the space, and my heart threatened to beat so hard to make me weak if I thought on it for too long.

  I could also be picked for something. Anything. And that might mean an income. I’d take anything at that point. I didn’t dare aim for great things. I just wanted a steady food source. I couldn’t help but keep a small bit of hope burning in my heart that I wouldn’t be back for a while. This would mean I’d succeeded, and my life would change forever.

  I needed this.

  When I was ready, I opened the front door, rushing out into the morning sun just starting to rise over the sea.

  I collided with a young man who had been standing just outside. He backed away from me, holding me by the arms to guard me against falling. I had jabbed him in the stomach with the cage, so it amazed me he was still standing.

  His eyes were striking, a hue of the sky, a color I’d never seen in humans. His hair was rust, with streaks of the sun. His skin was tan. His hands were big, and rough. Familiar to me. Farmer, working hands.

  He wore leather boots, leather pants and over it, an indigo men’s traveling kimono that stopped at just above the knee, very short from traditional styles. It was tied loosely, and the center of his collarbone was exposed.

  What had me fascinated was his relaxed face, a sense of calm resting over it like he never worried or even thought to do so. His eyes were kind. His lips kept a continual light smile, slight, but it was always there.

  He corrected his pack at his back, and a bow that he carried with it. He studied my face. When I gazed down at his shoes to inspect them, his stare remained on my face, following my eyes.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “Mrs. Satsu sent me.” He spoke slowly, and with such a strange accent that it was difficult to understand him. He paused, his gaze never wavering from my face as he spoke to me. “You’re Mizuki.”

  I touched the cloth of my peasant shirt, fiddling with it. He was handsome, unfamiliar, far cleaner and dressed nicer than myself. This was unexpected. “Did you come to fetch me?”

  “I’m an escort. Actually, I’m your escort.”

  “Escort?” I asked. “I need someone with me to walk to the docks?”

  He continued to stare, without blinking. “From now on.

  If people were leaving to fill in for the dismissed court, then perhaps he was guarding those traveling from danger on the journey. I didn’t have any defense training after all. “Does everyone going to the city get escorted?”

  “No.”

  What made me so special? I waited for more, but he never offered. I gave up my line of questioning, meaning to reserve it for Mrs. Satsu. “Are we meeting her at the docks?”

  “She already left this morning for the city.”

  My mouth popped open in surprise. “The sun has barely risen,” I said. The Taka whistled and repeated the word sun in the same tone I’d said.

  “She thought it was safer if we traveled separately, instead of all together. And she was antsy to go home.”

  “Home?” I asked, and the bird mimicked me. I wanted to wave at him to be silent, but juggled the metal cage in my hands and then gave up when it was difficult.

  He looked at the bird and then back at me. “Give me the cage, and your pack.”

  I backed up a step, hesitating. They were the last things I owned, and I disliked the idea of a complete stranger taking my belongings. “Why?”

  He lifted a rusty eyebrow. “I’ll carry it.”

  “I’ll carry it just fine,” I said quickly. “Do we need to
hurry? Am I going to be late?”

  He motioned with an empty hand for me to pass over my items. “Please let me do my job. We won’t be late if you come with me.”

  I sighed and gave him the cage and the pack. He rolled up his kimono sleeves to his elbows, revealing muscled forearms. He assembled everything so he could carry it all on his back, and adjusted the bow to his arm to keep it ready. He lifted with his knees, making a small grunt as he rose, ready to go.

  Perhaps this was why Mrs. Satsu said not to bring too much. I was being a burden. “I can leave the books,” I said.

  He shook his head and took a few steps toward the thin path that wound down the hill. “You brought less than I expected.”

  I followed him down the path toward the village. I tried not to look back and think about what I was leaving behind.

  I wanted to keep my mind off of what I was doing, leaving home for the first time. “What’s your name?” I asked, walking beside him.

  He was taller and I had to walk faster to keep up. “Sota,” he said.

  “You’re not from Kuni,” I said.

  “No. I’m not from here.” He pressed his lips together, and focused on the road ahead, his hands gripping the straps of our packs.

  Getting him to talk was like trying to yank a tiny splinter from my skin. I resorted to following behind him to study his pack and the things he carried. Hanging from his bag was the pelt of a rabbit, and I admired the bow, carved of a dark wood. Perhaps he believed as Mrs. Satsu did. Perhaps it wasn’t safe to talk.

  Mrs. Satsu also had given me a warning not to trust just anyone, but he knew her name and mine without prompting.

  The village was quiet today, the market square in the center nearly empty. Some stalls were closed. It didn’t really register with me why that was until we got to the docks. There was a passenger ship anchored offshore. Most of the village was there to see people coming to shore, or to wish farewell to those who were leaving.

  I’d assumed that Mrs. Satsu had suggested meeting at the docks as a simple spot to find each other outside the usually busy market. However seeing the large ship with high sails waiting a short distance away, too big to dock left a lump in my throat. Smaller rowboats were being used to bring people from the dock to the ship.

  I slowed, eventually stopping a good distance from the docks as the realization settled. Sota intended to board the ship.

  Sota halted instantly, looking around and adjusted his position to stand beside me. “What’s wrong?”

  “Are we going with them?” I asked, even if I already knew the answer.

  He turned his gaze from me, to the ship and then looked back at me, puzzled. “How else are you supposed to get there?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. Where exactly are we going?”

  “The capital.” He motioned to the others on the docks. “The Immortal City. With everyone else.”

  Seeing the number of villagers getting ready to board made me realize this may be more challenging than I thought. My heart sank. What chance did I have? Was it foolish that I accepted Mrs. Satsu’s offer?

  One of the rowboats came in beside the dock, and people were starting to load their packs and settle in. Parents and older relatives wished them health and good fortune. Children cried for their older siblings, but they were consoled by their mothers, and told about the honors of serving an emperor and their country.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off of the large ship. I tried to tell myself I could go, but I couldn’t make myself move another inch toward the water.

  Sota ignored everyone around us, keeping his attention on me. His face was still, zen, yet his tone concerning. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t go. I’m bad luck for a ship.”

  Sota raised an eyebrow, and remained silent, asking me without words for my meaning.

  I pointed to my eyes. “I have too much water.”

  “Too…much?”

  If he wasn’t from Kuni, perhaps they didn’t know our understanding of the world through fortunetelling. I wasn’t sure where to start explaining our beliefs. “My parents were lost at sea because my mother had too much water.”

  He formed a small smirk, the curious eyebrow still elevated. He approached me, taking my head into his big hands, a palm at each cheek, and scanned my face closely.

  I clamped my hands on his wrists, ready to tug if he was trying to hurt me, but so far he was only holding me steady. My cheeks heated up, and I worried others around us would wonder if we were about to share an intimate moment, here in front of everyone.

  His touch was firm, but oddly comfortable, supportive. He parted one of my eyelids with a forefinger and thumb and looked close.. After a moment, he released me. “A little extra water won’t hurt a big boat like that,” he said and motioned to the larger ships. “Besides, boats were made to withstand water. And wouldn’t all these other eyes even you out?”

  I opened my mouth to try to explain and then closed my lips again, unsure. His simple logic deflated my arguments. Still, I was terrified for the people on the ship, worried my bad luck may harm them. “Can’t we go another way?”

  “I’m not sure it’s allowed,” he said. “We weren’t given permission to go another way.”

  “Who won’t allow me?” I asked.

  He glanced around us, at others standing by and then leaned in to speak quietly to me. “When you join with her, there will be many rules.”

  He knew more than I thought he did. “How many?”

  “Many,” he said and then motioned to the ship. “Once we get on the boat, I might be able to tell you a few.”

  We walked on toward the dock. I glanced at some familiar faces. Many carried heavy packs, what they thought they would need. Some already had weapons, honored heirlooms passed down from generations. The rowboats could only carry a few at a time. I bit my lip, considering pressing him for another way.

  Sota reached out to me, brushing a rough fingertip over my chin. “Don’t bite.”

  I released. “Is that a rule?”

  “There are many,” he said quietly.

  I took out my frustration on my shirt, twisting a loose string in my fingers.

  He watched my fingers. He remained quiet, but I suspected fidgeting wasn’t allowed either. I couldn’t help it. My nerves seemed to form a tight knot in my chest, electrified with worry and doubt. Fruitless. Unlucky. I was wasting time and resources when I should be at home for the harvest.

  The rowboats finished loading, and went back out again to the ship.

  “Mizuki!” a male voice called from the docks.

  I turned, as did Sota.

  Ryuu elbowed his way back from the edge of the dock toward us. His pack was bulky, seeming more overloaded than from the day before. He wasn’t alone, others were leaving the dock as well.

  I stood on my toes to wave to him over the crowd of people, excited to see him. His hair was in a tighter ponytail and without leaves and grass in his clothes, otherwise he looked just the same.

  My heart started beating so fast, I was shaking. I didn’t expect to see him again. I absently touched my hot face as I waited.

  Sota stood closer to me with concern tightening his lips.

  Ryuu wedged himself between people to get to us. “What are you doing here?” he asked, stopping in front of me. He glanced at the bird on my shoulder. “I see you’ve gotten used to him.”

  “Apparently my family name was on your roster,” I said. “But this old woman came by last night and—“

  Sota elbowed me in the arm and gave me a sidelong look. I remembered this was supposed to remain a secret.

  Ryuu dropped a fist between me and Sota, giving him a glare with his dark eyes. “Hey, hey,” he said. “No need to get rough.”

  Sota ignored him, saying nothing, looking on toward the sea.

  I forced a laugh to return us to harmony and avoid attention. “It’s a long story.”

  Ryuu eyeballed him and then focused on me, his features soft
ening. “Are you traveling together?”

  “I can’t talk about it.” I motioned to the crowd. “There’s a lot of people leaving.”

  “You should have seen it at day break,” he said. “We’re not going to make it today. The boat is already beyond capacity since it picked up people down the coast yesterday. I got outbid by others already for a seat on this last boat out. It’ll be another four days before another might show up.” He stuck a finger toward the Taka, curling it like he wanted to scratch at its head. The Taka lunged at his finger, gripping it between its beak, but without force of a bite, just holding his finger. Ryuu pulled his finger free. “Teach it a new song yet?”

  “Was I supposed to?”

  “That’s what they like to do.”

  The crowd already had a low murmur of people talking as they watched the rowboat going out to sea. Suddenly there was an uproar of voices, starting from the end of the dock, and ripped toward us standing on shore. One shouted above the rest. “That was the last! No more boarding today!”

  Sota grumbled, grabbed for my hand, and pushed his way toward the docks, breaking through the crowd.

  “Hey!” Ryuu called, coming up behind us. “I already tried. They won’t let anyone else on.”

  Sota brought me to the end of the dock where men stood by, one with a scroll of paper and a pencil, making markings. A heavy purse hung from his belt.

  Sota approached and spoke to them. “What’s this about leaving without the rest of us?”

  The man who was writing stopped. He had squinty eyes and his hair was thinning at the temples. “There’s already too many onboard.”

  “You can fit a few more,” Ryuu said, coming to stand beside me.

  The man sneered at him. “Did you find a few more coins?”

  “We don’t have time to wait,” Sota said. “Or for bargaining. Another ship will take days to get here, and the journey by ship is already a few days.”

  “Complaining about it won’t make it go faster,” the man with the scroll said. “If you bring me something interesting, I might get you on first on the next ship.”