by Forthright
So she looked for ways to distinguish herself. And was inadvertently conscientious and thoughtful in the meantime. Tsumiko wondered all over again how Sansa could bear to let such precious children go.
Just then, Michael and Hisoka came in through the kitchen door, and Isla leapt up, all eagerness. “Papka! Sensei!”
Michael whisked Lilya from her arms and beamed at Isla in a way that made their strong resemblance all the more obvious. She was a pretty girl, with her father’s slender build and coloring. Sansa had wound Isla’s dark blonde hair into a snug coronet, which was all abloom thanks to Gingko’s additions.
The girl had no idea until Hisoka produced a spray of pink blossoms from within his capacious sleeve. “May I add a token to your crown and be counted among your admirers?”
Isla looked horrified and hurried to check at herself in the hall mirror. “Gingko!” she cried, returning with her cheeks puffed in a childish pout.
“Aww, Isla. It’s tradition!” Gingko scooped her up and rocked her back and forth in wide, exaggerated arcs.
“Stop!” she demanded.
He did, though he didn’t put her down. Straightening a drooping bud, he grumbled, “I had to endure so many traditions over the last couple of weeks, and Dad’s were nine times worse than my little ones. Ninety times!”
“Like what?” she challenged.
Affecting great injury, Gingko whispered, “Manicures and eye liner!” Then he pointed at his father, for Argent was still resplendent.
Isla remained skeptical. “You changed your clothes?”
“First chance I got!” he bragged.
She asked, “Why didn’t Argent change?”
Gingko whispered something in her ear, and her gaze skated Tsumiko’s way. Then with growls and nuzzles, the last of Isla’s indignation melted into giggles. “Missed you, Gingko,” she mumbled, cheeks pink.
“Yeah? Maybe I can come visit you at your fancy academy sometime.”
Her eyes widened considerably. “I’ll be your cultural liaison!”
“Is that anything like a tour guide?”
“Much more important!”
She launched into a lengthy explanation that involved groundbreaking strategies, integrated classrooms, diverse lecturers, and cultural exchange. Which sparked Michael’s interest, and the conversation veered into some pointed questions about recent rumors that reavers would be founding a high school in Keishi.
While they weighed the pros and cons, Isla drifted to Tsumiko’s side. Joining her on the sofa, the little girl studied her with new interest. “Are you Argent’s choice?”
“Yes.” Tsumiko guessed Gingko had tipped her off.
Isla considered her, then the fox on the other end of the room. “Then shouldn’t he have greeted you first?”
This girl was very observant. And she seemed concerned. Tsumiko asked, “Is that an Amaranthine custom? I’m still learning.”
“Customs vary by clan.” Isla’s lecturing tone slipped. “But Papka always goes to Mum first. Because even though he loves all of us, she’s his favorite.”
“Maybe if Argent was human, he would do something like that. But from what I’ve seen so far, foxes aren’t usually that direct.”
Isla, who had grown up with Argent, conceded the point. “Maybe being a fox’s favorite means he’ll come to you last.”
“I’m sure he will,” said Tsumiko. “But I’ll let you in on a secret.”
She leaned closer. “You may count on my discretion.”
Tsumiko managed to keep a straight face. “From the moment Argent arrived, he’s been holding onto me.”
The girl’s expression grew thoughtful. “He can do that?”
“Yes.”
“Is it nice?”
“Very nice.” A pleasant thrum pressed against Tsumiko’s soul. Not because Argent was unable to hide from her, but because he was making himself known. Affection mingled with an impatience that sent her heart skipping.
Hisoka-sensei cleared his throat. “I think it’s time for me to speak. If everyone could gather around?” He shepherded the others into a loose circle before Tsumiko’s spot in Gingko’s winter garden.
Even though she knew what was coming—or perhaps because she did—Tsumiko’s hands began to shake. After everything she’d been through, all the reasons she’d needed to be brave, and she was still prone to jitters.
Sansa came to sit beside her, wrapping a strong arm around her shoulders. “This is a good ending, yes? Because it is a good beginning.”
Michael bent to offer her a small cluster of blue flowers. “A bouquet for the bride,” he whispered. “Or bondmate, as the case may be.”
“Aunt Eimi’s favorite,” Tsumiko murmured.
“While that’s true, it was Sansa who first brought forget-me-nots to Stately House.” Michael folded her hands around the poesy. “They are one of her family’s traditions, so they make an appearance at every important occasion.”
Sansa smiled indulgently. “A good custom. Very old. And a good charm for our Tsumiko, since they will draw Argent’s eyes.”
Isla’s candid gaze ranged from the flowers to Argent to Tsumiko, then finally to her mentor. “Sensei, is this a human wedding?”
“Ah. Not precisely, since we’ll be blending human, reaver, and clan customs. But Miss Tsumiko did ask me to officiate.” He bowed to Argent, smoothly adding, “I hold no actual authority over this den or its dealings. But I am—as we all are—interested in the lady’s happiness. May I proceed?”
Argent said, “I have no objections.”
Michael claimed Kyrie and made room for Argent to pull Tsumiko to her feet. She clung to her small bouquet as she looked from face to face. Their very presence steadied her. Sansa’s strength and Michael’s tenderness. Gingko’s obvious pride and Isla’s frank curiosity. Deece’s respectful silence and even Jacques’ wry smirk.
Hisoka moved to stand with them. “While the courting strategies of foxes can be dizzyingly complex, their culmination is not. The vulpine mating bond is profound for its simplicity. And for its attendant fidelity. As the saying goes—a fox chooses once and well.”
Hands closed around Tsumiko’s, and she looked into Argent’s face. The hint of a smile touched his lips before his tails billowed outward. Appreciative murmurs came from all sides as they settled pointedly around Tsumiko.
Barely containing a smile, Hisoka asked, “Miss Tsumiko Hajime, will you entrust Argent Mettlebright with your heart, your soul, your loyalty, and your years?”
“I will.”
All attention switched to Argent, who offered a far simpler vow. “You are my choice.”
Hisoka’s hum was all approval, but he let Argent’s declaration stand.
It was finished.
Taking two steps back, the cat withdrew a small wrapped item from his sleeve, offering it on the palms of both hands. “Forgive my presumption if this token is too personal, coming as it does from someone outside your clan.”
Tsumiko guessed there was some Amaranthine tradition in play, for Argent seemed to know what the folded cloth held. He quickly tucked it away, mumbling thanks. Tsumiko had no idea how to interpret Hisoka’s benign smile, but she definitely felt the shiver that passed through all of Argent’s tails.
SIXTY SIX
Ephemera
“We’re not staying?” Tsumiko asked. Sansa was in the midst of setting out the noon meal.
“I have made other arrangements.” Argent raised his voice a trifle. “Gingko understands what is needed.”
She saw the forward snap of his ears, but he mostly covered his surprise. “Yeah, yeah.” Gingko made a lazy shooing motion. “You can count on me.”
And with a light touch at her back, Argent ushered her out.
Tsumiko asked, “Where are we going?”
“Not far.”
<
br /> “Are we leaving?”
“We are staying.” Argent slowed to a stop. “Traditionally, the final stage of a fox’s courtship leads to a den, which he has furnished for his lady’s comfort, filling it with all manner of delights and delicacies. But I am both poor and ill-prepared.”
“That doesn’t matter,” Tsumiko murmured. At least, it didn’t matter to her.
Argent drew her a little farther along the hall. “I cannot offer a lavish den, but my garden should suffice. In all of Stately House, it is the one place that is truly mine.”
“Your conservatory?” she asked.
He touched a smooth section of wall, and a pair of glass doors appeared, each fitted from top to bottom with leaded glass. Sunlight slanted through bevels, dappling the floorboards with tiny rainbows. Tsumiko was truly startled; she’d been walking past the conservatory entrance every day, completely blind to its existence.
Argent’s fingertips rested on one of two matching brass door handles, which had been shaped like leaping foxes. He searched her face. “I intend to complete my vow here.”
Oh. Tsumiko hadn’t put much thought into the particulars of their upcoming … union. But on some level, there had been certain expectations. Like walls. And a bed. She tried for a smile. “A garden is a good place for beginnings.”
Argent remained very still. “Are you nervous?”
As if he didn’t know. “A little.”
“Did you not recently entrust yourself to me?”
Her vow was fresh in her mind—heart and soul and a lifetime of loyalty. “I did.”
“Then you have nothing to fear.” Argent touched her cheek and offered a teasing tsk. “I will not pounce at the first opportunity.”
Foxes and their wily way with words. Her smile came more easily. “But you are planning to pounce.”
“Not before the appropriate moment.”
“And when will that be?”
“Who can say?” Argent’s expression gentled. “We do have the luxury of time.”
Tsumiko allowed him to guide her into his sanctuary. The first word that came mind was luminous, both for the abundance of pale winter sunlight and for the faint shimmer of a thousand sigils, suspended like delicate clockwork throughout the garden. An extravagance of metal and glass arched overhead, reminding Tsumiko of Parisian galleries from centuries past. She had to wonder which of Argent’s owners had spent a fortune on this addition, only to have it stolen out from under their noses.
“Let me put these in water.” Argent plucked the bouquet from Tsumiko’s hands and moved to a set of shelves holding vases in every conceivable shape and color. “Please feel free to explore.”
She hesitated, feeling a little like a trespasser. “Don’t you want to show me around?”
“A proper tour can come later.” Argent reached for a pale green glass vase. “Discovery is the first of life’s delights.”
So Tsumiko chose a pebbled path that circled toward the far wall and found a miniature meadow with grass as slender as needles and downy to the touch. Farther along, tiered shelves held a collection of bonsai, painstakingly trained into gracious displays. A connecting path stretched under a series of arches against which the canes of climbing roses twined. They must be beautiful in bloom. And were those grapevines?
Upon further investigation, Tsumiko found many other foodstuffs—citrus trees, potted herbs, and several shrubs with nameplates identifying them as ingredients for Sansa’s teas and salves.
Near the garden’s center, a profusion of fern fronds towered over her head, and in reaching up to touch one curling fiddlehead, she caught sight of a floating chunk of rosy crystal. On closer inspection, she realized the bit of stone was suspended on a nearly invisible filament. And there were more. Beads and bits of chipped crystal—blue, yellow, lavender, gray. “Anchors?”
“For my wards, yes.” Argent gestured for her to continue and trailed along after her. He didn’t speak up again until they came to a long potting bench. “Here are Gingko’s recent acquisitions. A gift from my mother.”
As Tsumiko touched each of the gingko seedlings, freshly potted, she asked for more particulars about Argent’s family. “Did they welcome you and Gingko?”
“Yes. Father and Mother especially, but the rest did rally by the end.” With a small shrug and a nod toward one side, he changed the subject. “Here are some who will welcome you. I have loosened my hold enough to pique their interest.”
Two glittering creatures came looping her way, looking rather like a cross between a dragonfly and a tiny snake. They had to be Ephemera. “This is what Uncle Stewie was talking about—your collection!”
Argent nodded. “These are midivar. I only have the two males, so they cannot properly establish themselves, but they have one another for company.”
More small creatures shed their shyness in favor of sampling the slim trickle of tending Argent allowed. One hour passed quietly into the next as he patiently answered her questions. But all at once he hooked a finger under her chin, lifting her face. “Are you truly fascinated by my menagerie, or are you hiding behind them?”
“Both. Neither.” She supposed she should have done more research into courting behavior. “I don’t really know what’s expected or where to begin. This is probably one of those times when it’s best if you’re in charge.”
“If you like. Let us begin with this.” Argent produced the cloth-wrapped bundle from Hisoka-sensei. “For you.”
Tsumiko slowly lifted aside slippery folds of a moth-made textile that flowed like water, revealing an ornamental comb. “How beautiful!” she gasped.
Agent hummed appreciatively and, with the tip of one silvered claw, traced the delicate pattern of gingko leaves figured into its curve. “For some clans, a comb such as this is a betrothal gift, used to initiate the last phase of courtship.”
“Like an engagement ring.”
“That would be the human equivalent.” Argent eased closer to her, his tails looping around her legs and waist. “That is why Twineshaft presented the comb to me, making it mine to give. None can fault that cat’s taste or discretion.”
Tsumiko stirred uncomfortably. “I don’t have a gift for you.”
“I am free. What else could I wish for?”
How many Amaranthine traditions were being ignored because she was human? There had been no courtship. There was no den. Did Argent feel slighted? His wording gave her an idea. “Would that work?” she offered meekly. “As my gift to you, I could grant three wishes.”
The change in Argent’s demeanor was immediate. “Like a bottled imp from the old tales? Are you certain you want to bend to my whims?”
Tsumiko wondered fleetingly if bottled imps were like genies and their lamps. But she firmly set aside her curiosity. Because Argent’s tails were shifting with his mood, taking on a seductive sway. This gift was to his liking, so she nodded. “Three wishes.”
“Very well, my lady.” He touched the comb. “I wish you to use my gift for its intended purpose.”
“You want me to comb my hair?”
He tugged her over to a bench and crowded close beside her on its seat. Nuzzling her cheek, he whispered in her ear. “I am inviting you to comb my tails.”
“You’ll let me touch them?”
“To your heart’s content. But only when we are alone.”
Pulling the nearest of his tails so it lay across her lap, she stroked the soft fur. When Argent didn’t object, she drew the comb along its length. “Like this?”
“Yes.” He nodded and nosed her temple. “Please.”
She continued this new exploration, enjoying the soft hums and sighs her attentions pulled from Argent. “You really like this,” she murmured.
“The stroking and handling of tails is a great intimacy.” His voice had deepened. “Sensitivity makes such contact highly pleasurab
le.”
Well! She slid her hand all the way up and around to the base of his spine and rubbed experimentally. “And this is only the first of your tails. This could take all night.”
With a low groan, Argent pulled her into a deep kiss, and she left off combing in order to slip her arms around his neck.
When he finally drew back, he also whisked his tails back out of reach. Clearing his throat, he said, “I believe couples usually take turns.”
“And this is a courting tradition?” she asked, a little breathless.
“The giving of a comb is part of courting. The using of the comb is a mate’s privilege.” He blinked at her a little hazily. “Perhaps a short break before moving on to the other tails? Otherwise, I fear I shall pounce prematurely.”
Argent stood and fussed vaguely at his clothes. She’d never seen him looking so rumpled. The effect was rather endearing. Standing as well, she asked, “Is that why you like to brush my hair?”
His eyebrows lifted. “Alas, I am found out.”
Tsumiko tried to remember exactly when hair-brushing had become such an unwavering part of their evening routine. Had he been courting her even then? “Are there other traditions for couples?”
“Dozens.” He beckoned for her to follow him toward the entrance. “Doubtless more came into fashion during my enslavement. These things tend to evolve and modulate, with each generation of each clan finding new ways to achieve old ends.”
“Could you teach me some?”
“A wholly reasonable request. Shall we alternate traditions with tails?” he offered.
“I’d like that.”
Argent accepted this with a nod, then lifted a finger to his lips. When they stepped past a vine-draped arbor, they caught Gingko. He crouched just inside the conservatory doors, ears flattened as if trying very hard not to overhear anything. He’d already arranged a stack of food trays on the walkway’s edge. Spying them, he nearly dropped a large thermos.
“Dad!” Gingko’s eyes were wide, but he was looking everywhere but at them. “S-sorry! I didn’t mean to … interrupt.”
