Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal

by Forthright

  “Papka,” Isla murmured in pleased protest.

  “Then you shall both enjoy the riches of Kikusawa’s archive,” Kimiko promised. “It’s a treasury beyond compare. At least, that’s what my grandfather always claimed.”

  “He would be correct.”

  She turned at the new voice and fumbled for a greeting. In the end, all she managed was a respectful posture and a whispered acknowledgement. “Lord Mettlebright.”

  Spokesperson for the fox clans, Argent Mettlebright was numbered among the Five. The Mettlebrights were winter foxes, so he was pale, with silver hair and light blue eyes. He wasn’t any taller than she, but his power and dignity were overwhelming. Argent Mettlebright towered.

  “Oh, this is fortuitous! Argent’s been eager to meet you.” Michael’s cheerfulness had a determined quality, as if trying to balance out the aloof fox. “I’m quite sure he tagged along for no other reason than to snoop.”

  “Tsk. Are you questioning my sigilcraft?”

  Michael’s smile didn’t waver. “No, old friend. But I’ll question your manners if you do not show Eloquence’s suitor the courtesy she deserves.”

  This guy’s diplomacy skills were rough-hewn, but effective.

  Argent hummed, and Kimiko had never known a hum to communicate more skepticism.

  However, he faced her and drawled, “So you are the suitor.”

  Which is exactly how he came across during newscasts and interviews. Prickly, but flawlessly polite. Haughty, but not particularly hostile. Especially with Michael smiling over the exchange like a beneficent angel.

  So she signaled a crisp affirmative. “Yes. I’ll be courting Eloquence Starmark.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because that’s what he wants.”

  Argent pressed, “And you?”

  Kimiko hoped she sounded more confident than she felt. “I am looking forward to tomorrow night’s betrothal.”

  Michael said, “I’ve been invited to attend the festivities surrounding your formal declaration.”

  “We both have.” Argent reached for her hands, sliding his own into a supportive position, gently cradling hers. “While I am certain Harmonious would speak freely and at great length, I do not think Eloquence wants another dog sniffing too close to his den. If either of you wish to come to me with awkward questions, I promise to embarrass you with detailed advice of an intimate nature.”

  She blinked. “You’re too kind.”

  “On the contrary.” Argent gently pressed a crumpled slip of paper into her palm. “But she is.”

  Kimiko clutched his gift to her heart. Lord Mettlebright had passed along his bondmate’s contact information. Any reaver would be glad to make such a rare and valuable connection. There were only a dozen beacons born in any generation. But she was interested in Lady Tsumiko for a very different reason. “Akira’s sister!”

  This time, Argent’s hum managed to convey amusement … and approval.

  When Quen reached the classroom that morning, he was already in high spirits before Suuzu met him at the door.

  The phoenix pulled him aside and placed a chocolate bar in his hands. “From your suitor, with her compliments and a request to meet in the usual place after school.”

  Quen flushed with pleasure at the token. Although he didn’t often eat sweets, he knew there was none finer than those crafted by Junzi. And she’d chosen one that bore the Starmark crest—copper foil shining proudly against a wide sleeve of dark brown paper. An appropriate gift, surely intended to honor his clan.

  His brows drew together, and he murmured, “Do you think she’ll become a Starmark?”

  Suuzu drew him further along the hall and traced a simple sigil upon their palms, guaranteeing their words stayed between them. Given how many sharp ears were nearby, Quen appreciated the phoenix’s discretion.

  He answered with bland diplomacy. “Joining is the usual intent of courtship.”

  “I mean our names. If she’s courting me, would I be expected to take the Miyabe name?”

  “Hmm. I see what you mean. There are few precedents, if any.” Suuzu considered. “Taking into account both pack and public sentiments, I recommend she become a Starmark. For the press, for the peace, and for your pups. However, the decision is hers and yours.”

  Quen added it to his mental list of all the things he needed to discuss with Kimiko. “There is so much I don’t know about her. So much she doesn’t know about me. And a thousand ways in which our best intentions could be misunderstood.”

  “I know.” Suuzu tapped the chocolate bar. “I can tell you something about your suitor.”

  Quen eased closer, signaling his interest.

  “In the human culture of this area, a gift of chocolate has romantic overtones.”

  “A human courting tradition?”

  Suuzu nodded. “In general, Kimi likes snacks—both salty and sweet. Akira often remarks upon her adventurous choices.”

  “Is that good?”

  The phoenix pursed his lips. “I advise caution.”

  That bad? It had never occurred to Quen that he might learn things about his future bondmate that might be considered unpalatable.

  “On a more personal level,” continued Suuzu, “Kimi has a sentimental attachment to Junzi chocolate.”

  Quen’s heart leapt, for Suuzu had doubled the value of his gift. While Quen didn’t crave sweets, he longed for conversation with Kimiko. Here was a promising avenue of inquiry. “Thank you.”

  Suuzu led the way into the classroom. Eloquence immediately sought out his suitor. Kimiko was seated at her table, Isla perched on her knee. At the arch of his brows, the taller girl glibly signaled, brighten the wards.

  Isla cheerfully added, the boundaries will hold.

  Just then Tenma stooped to enter, Inti riding on his shoulders. Holding out both hands, Quen remarked, “You are redolent of monkey.”

  Inti slithered into Quen’s embrace. “Inti is a monkey.”

  Tenma shrugged. “Dog’s nestle. Monkeys tangle.”

  “Jealous?” Inti twitched his tail under Quen’s nose.

  “I do feel left out.” The young crosser was certainly pleased with this recent turn of events. Quen wanted to encourage the sense of belonging. Including Tenma in his invitation, he asked, “Will you stay in my den some night soon?”

  “Not tonight,” said the monkey, as if he had a full social calendar to consider.

  Tenma seemed surprised. “Why not?”

  Inti blinked innocently. “Reasons.”

  Ms. Reeves entered, calling the class to order and announcing, “We are extremely privileged to have a guest lecturer for the day. Isla, perhaps you’d like to handle his introduction?”

  While the girl began the long list of her father’s credentials, Michael Ward slipped into the room and scanned the class. Unassuming and amiable. And at the moment, overflowing with fondness for his daughter the diplomat.

  Quen had spent the entire night watching over this man’s sleep from the safety of his arms. For a while, his denmates allowed the monopoly, but as dawn approached, others stole in and settled close by—Father and Laud, Hisoka and Lapis, Argent and Gingko, Kyrie and Ever, Merit and Boon. Drawn to the gentle lure of a starry, sleepy soul, trusted and trusting, warded yet whispering. Perhaps this was another kind of magic, the way Michael effortlessly bound their souls to his, yet left them free.

  Somehow, Quen wanted to have this kind of pull and push with Kimiko. To bind her soul to his own and to honor her choices. Maybe then, she would develop that special breed of loyalty known as love.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Her Pursuit

  After classes dismissed for the day, Quen wanted nothing more than to rush to the Kith shelter ahead of Kimiko. But Inti wrapped himself around his head and shoulders, seeking refuge from Michael, who advanced with palms upraised.

  “Now, my young friend,” coaxed Michael. “I’m not anyone to fear.”

  “This guy’s like family to me!”
Akira gestured broadly. “Our home’s filled with crossers.”

  Isla crowded close on Quen’s other side. “Come down, Inti. My Papka can be trusted.”

  Fingers drummed on a point between Eloquence’s eyebrows.

  He looked up into the impish crosser’s wary face. “Yes, partner?”

  “Dogs trust carefully?”

  Quen patted the monkey’s throttling tail. “We trust our noses more than words.”

  Inti’s nostril’s twitched.

  Although he was skirting the question Inti actually wanted answered, Quen thought it best to make a few things clear. “Humans can’t hide their scent any more than reavers can hide their souls.”

  “Wards!” Inti jabbed a finger at Michael.

  The reaver lifted the wrist displaying a strand of heavy amethyst beads. “I’m not hiding anything, Inti. My wards are a courtesy. Otherwise I tend to become a distraction.”

  “And mine keep my soul in check.” Isla wrinkled her nose. “Since I’m still in training, they’re for your protection.”

  “Reasons,” muttered Inti.

  Eloquence squeezed his passenger’s ankle. “My senses are keener than you might have realized. Humans can’t hide anything, and half-humans can’t hide much.”

  Inti’s gaze dropped.

  Point made. Quen asked, “Do you trust me?”

  The monkey crosser’s grip tightened, then slowly relaxed. “Yes, yes. But Tenma is best.”

  “Good.” Quen reached up to muss Inti’s hair. “Then trust me. Michael is my best.”

  “Lies!”

  More amused than affronted, Quen said, “I’m not lying.”

  “No, no,” agreed Inti. “You’re late.”

  Had the brat had been delaying him this whole time? Growling and giving the monkey’s hair an additional roughing, he lifted. This time, Inti let go. Dumping the snickering boy in Michael’s arms, Quen strode for the door.

  “Why are you in such a hurry?” Isla called sweetly.

  Eloquence didn’t hesitate, didn’t look back, but he heard Inti answer for him.

  “Reasons.”

  She was already there. He’d made her wait.

  Dismissing his apologies, Kimiko announced, “I won’t be in class tomorrow, so I need to explain everything now.”

  Quen sank to the straw between Edge and Flay, pulling her down to his side. “Is anything wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Mama seems to think we need all day to fancy up. She’ll probably attack my cuticles and smear mud on my face and pluck things. I swear, if she goes after my eyebrows, I will lock myself in the archive.”

  Eloquence considered Kimiko’s face with careful neutrality. “Our courtship will involve … eyebrows?”

  “Not if I have any say in the matter. Never mind that part.” She waved this aside—even though she’d brought up the entire matter—and frowned in concentration. “I wanted to talk about the courting tradition I chose, so you know what to expect.”

  “Please,” he urged.

  Kimiko rubbed at the side of her face, as if to discourage the color rising there. “I wanted something that made sense for me, but I also wanted something that would please you. And so far the only thing you’ve asked for is ….”

  He had no trouble recalling his plea for a taste. “Kisses are traditional.”

  “Exactly. And for me, trees are traditional. In my family, special occasions have always taken place under our shrine’s tree.” With a shy glance, she said, “I’m going to borrow from the tale, ‘The Wolf and the Moon Maiden,’ a love story involving an Amaranthine and an Impression. To prove his devotion, they complete something called the Cycle of Moons.”

  Eloquence was already nodding. This was familiar territory for him, since Uncle Karoo-ren had faithfully taught him the wolf lore of the Ambervelte pack, his mother’s people. “Twelve pledges sealed by twelve kisses.”

  Her hand found his. “Is it a good idea?”

  “Certainly. You’ve found a way to combine your family’s traditions with my people’s lore. I’m willing, and Father will undoubtedly be pleased.” Quen only saw one potential problem. “Do you wish to change locations, so that the feast takes place under your chosen tree?”

  Kimiko grimaced. “Better not. Mama is both stir-crazy and starstruck. She’s looking forward to visiting your home.”

  “Dinner for all at the Starmark compound, with your declaration of intent before a smaller group at Kikusawa Shrine afterward.”

  “Unless it’s too much trouble …?”

  Quen smiled. “Make your wishes known to your go-between, and I’ll do the same. Between them, Twineshaft and Farroost will take care of everything.”

  “Oh, of course. Yes. That’s a good idea.” She laughed a little, seemingly at herself, and said, “That just leaves one other detail.”

  “Can I help?” He was having trouble assigning a meaning to the shifts in her scent. They hadn’t spent enough time together. Should he suggest more interaction, or would that create new problems in the form of public scrutiny?

  Kimiko faced him squarely. “I have a question, and while everyone has been more than helpful, this is something I’d rather deal with in private.”

  “As you like, Kimiko.”

  She muttered, “This is embarrassing. And I’m nervous.”

  Quen’s impulse was to get closer, but he kept still. “I appreciate your trust.”

  She gave in with a flurry of small gestures, mingling apologies with pleas for patience. “I know how to carry myself in normal conversations with Amaranthine from just about any clan. Which means I know enough to know that I don’t know enough.”

  “About …?”

  Kimiko closed her eyes and continued. “When it comes to Amaranthine culture, a kiss can mean many different things—greeting, apology, gratitude, submission. Requests, pledges, claims. It’s all in the nuance.”

  He could see where this was headed.

  “And that nuance is all in the context, posture, delivery, duration.” She was watching him through her lashes. “I’m going to kiss you in front of an audience, and most of them are going to be searching for meanings. Will you please help me? I don’t want any trace of embarrassment or caution or fear to color what should be a glad moment.”

  Kimiko was right. This was important. Quen elbowed Edge, who liked her list and was cheerfully expounding on the themes of posture, delivery, and duration. “I’m willing.”

  “Thanks.” Her shoulders squared. “So … will we both be standing?”

  Rising, Quen helped her to her feet. She settled immediately into an attentive, expectant posture, and for the first time, he didn’t take her stance for granted. Kimiko moved well—fluid, fluent. “You’ve been doing this all along.”

  The answering tilt of her chin was perfect.

  “I didn’t even notice,” he admitted abashedly. Was this why the Nightspangle pack had singled her out? Was it why he’d felt he could trust her?

  “I’ll consider that a compliment.” She offered him her palms. “Even so, a lesson in canine nuance would be much appreciated.”

  His pulse quickened. “May I touch?”

  She acquiesced without a word.

  Heart light, he coached her through three greetings that displayed varying degrees of affection, the chaste caress of contrition, and a grateful kiss that lost its way. Kimiko had taken inspiration from romance lore, and she’d come asking for courteous intimacies. His blood was already singing. His awareness blurred at the edges.

  Edge’s tail began a steady thump.

  Flay sneezed. Pointedly. Not the time for trysting, pup.

  Quen reluctantly pulled away, easing back a step.

  Kimiko touched her lips. “Are you sure that was just thank you?”

  “No.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Unless it was, ‘Yes, thank you. More, please.’”

  “Should I consider that a compliment, too?”

  “Please do.” It was bette
r than he deserved. Here was willingness and trust, but he could feel her studious distraction. She wanted to understand the forms. He needed to teach without taking.

  Kimiko asked, “What am I supposed to do with my hands?”

  Eloquence brightened, for he craved her touch. Taking her wrists, he guided her hands through a variety of simple messages and cues. As he’d discovered with Tenma, it was difficult to put the subtle significances into words.

  “Another kind of request?” Kimiko curved her fingers as he’d done.

  “No, a reiteration, usually following a refusal. I call it the pudding please.” Quen smiled at her bafflement. “Ever adores sweets, especially milk pudding. This is how he begs for a second serving.”

  Understanding dawned, and Kimiko’s fingers glided along his jawline, sure as her meaning. “Is there a third level for cheeky beggars?”

  “Although I cannot remember, Uncle Laud swears I perfected ten degrees of please when I was a pup.”

  Kimiko was smiling again, encouraging him with her interest. “What did you beg for?”

  “A pet.”

  “Like a kitten?”

  He huffed. “Nothing so easily acquired. I wanted a pet constellation. And to tame the north wind. And I begged for a briner tank.”

  “Stories from Amaranthine lore.” Her gaze turned inward as she stroked his cheek. “I used to want to go on quests—to find the hidden groves, to uncover a clutch of dragon eggs, to rescue a fallen star.”

  Quen leaned into her touch. “So you’re an adventurer at heart?”

  “No. Not really.” Kimiko retreated, her hands dropping to her sides. “I loved my grandfather, and I loved his stories. It’s my job to preserve them, not pursue them.”

  “Then it’s a good thing that you’ve chosen to court me with kisses rather than gifts.” His fingers wheedled lightly along her jaw, and he added a pudding plea. “Otherwise, I may have sent you chasing after Impressions to impress me.”

  “Is that how you refuse a suitor, by giving them an impossible task?”

  “Perhaps. But that is not our situation.” He reached for her hands, pulling her back into contact. “Kimiko, what is the underlying message you want to send during your declaration?”