by Kate Grove
“You’re welcome,” he acknowledged and sat back, sipping his own tea. Meanwhile, his other hand was busy stroking the fur of the cat in his lap.
“I think he likes you,” she couldn’t help commenting.
Katsuo looked around then leaned closer to her. His whisper in her ear gave her a slight shiver. “It’s because I always give him a bite from my biscuits. But don’t tell the owners.”
Shocked, Ciara snorted, and the tea caught on her throat.
“Please don’t make me laugh while I drink,” she pleaded, wiping tears from her eyes. Katsuo’s gaze was fixed on her face. “What is it?”
“Your bruises have already faded. It’s good to see you laugh.”
She wasn’t sure how to react to that, so she sent him a tiny smile and drank her tea in silence. They made small talk for the rest of the afternoon until they had run out of tea. Katsuo paid for their beverages, then they headed back to the castle.
“This was a great day. We must come tomorrow, too, Yura!” Ciara said as they exited the little establishment.
“Oh, I…” Yura was looking everywhere but at Ciara.
“What is it?”
She mumbled something under her breath.
“What was that?” Ciara leant closer.
“I believe tomorrow is her day off. Isn’t that right?” Katsuo asked as he caught up to them.
“That is right, Milord,” Yura bowed.
“Oh,” Ciara blinked in surprise. Yura did tell her she had a day off every now and then. “Then enjoy your day off tomorrow.”
“You don’t mind?” Yura peered up at her. Ciara smiled at her.
“Of course not. Everyone needs rest.”
“You may go now, if you’d like,” Katsuo added. “I’ll escort Ciara back to the castle.”
“Yes, Milord. Thank you for your generosity, Milord,” Yura bowed low, before saying goodbye and running off.
“She has so much energy,” Ciara remarked as she looked after the girl fondly. Katsuo was looking at her, a question on his face. “What is it?”
“Would you like to go back straight to the castle, or will you let me show you something?”
“I’m not eager to get back soon,” she replied. “What do you have in mind?”
“Tsk, tsk. It’s not a surprise if you know what it is.”
Katsuo gently took hold of her hand, placed it in the nook of his arm, and led them back to the market. Most of the stalls had already closed, but a few merchants were still selling their items. One of the Europeans was still there, and he headed for him.
“Do you see anything that catches your eye?” he asked as they stopped. Katsuo thought that Ciara seemed happy to be able to look over goods from her home. She spent a while investigating each item.
“We have some incense from Arabia, small carpets from Persia,” Ciara shook her head at each item the merchant listed, “Maybe a jewelry for the lady?”
“Is this—?” Ciara stopped at a jar. “Can I open it?”
“Let me, dear,” the merchant said, taking the jar from her hands and opening it in one swift motion. Ciara leant closer to sniff it. Yep, it was honey.
“How much is it?” she asked. The man said an amount and Ciara looked at Katsuo. She still had no idea how the monetary system here worked. He had a frown on his face and Ciara turned back to the merchant.
“Thank you, but that’s a bit too much.”
“It is very rare.”
“Not where it came from,” she replied, eyebrows raising. Two can play that game.
“Look, lady, I can give you a discount because you’re so lovely. Ten percent.”
Ciara crossed her arms. So he was open to bargaining.
“You offend me,” she turned her face away. “Maybe for thirty percent—”
“Do you have any idea how much danger I needed to face in order for it to arrive here safely?” His reasoning didn’t seem to have an effect on Ciara. “Fifteen percent. And that’s final,” the merchant said.
“Twenty, and you give me the jar for free,” Ciara was not giving him any chance.
“Fine,” he spit into his palm and stretched it out for her. Ciara’s eyes widened at the gesture. “Come on, do we have a deal?”
“We do.”
“Shake on it!”
Ciara gaped. They both turned their head at the tinkling sound of coins. Katsuo was counting the money out on the table.
“Oh, thank you, Milord!” He went to grab his hand, but Katsuo avoided him at the last second. It seemed he didn’t want to come into contact with the merchant’s spit any more than Ciara did.
“The jar,” he reminded the merchant.
“Sure, Milord,” the man bowed a few times while giving him the jar of honey.
“Let’s go,” Katsuo nodded to Ciara who seemed to come out of shock. She hurried over to him and they said goodbye to the merchant who was still bowing to them.
When they were out of earshot, Katsuo commented on the deal. “That was quite impressive. I didn’t know you could bargain so well.”
“Thanks,” Ciara said, eyeing the jar of honey in his hand. “I guess when I really want something, I do everything in my power to achieve that.”
“But not shaking hands?”
“He spit into his palm!” Ciara protested loudly.
“I’m beginning to think I was lucky you didn’t do the same when we sealed our deal.”
Ciara laughed when she imagined the scene. To her surprise, Katsuo allowed a small smile. Her breath caught.
“You smiled!”
“Did not.” He immediately wiped it off his face.
“You did smile!” She insisted. “Now that’s something I’ve never thought I’d see.”
“Why’s that?”
“Yuki is right, you can be a bit grumpy. And you take yourself way too seriously,” she explained. “And I don’t mean any offense. That’s just how you are, and that’s fine.”
“You and I have very different ideas on what is offensive.”
“Do tell.”
“Maybe another time,” he said, putting a hand on the small of her back. “It’s getting dark. We should get back to the castle.”
“S-sure.”
Ciara shivered. Was it because of the chilly air or his light touch? Her heart hammered as she felt tingles from where he touched her. On their way back, however, she got distracted by another merchant. He was from Joseon, wherever it was, and had gorgeous fabrics. Ciara couldn’t help caressing the silks and marveling at their intricate pattern.
“Which has caught your eye, Milady?” The merchant asked. “Mayhap the azure one with the cranes? It is indeed beautiful.”
Ciara, who was just admiring said material, walked on to check the other silks.
“I think the purple one would suit you,” Katsuo said, and Ciara glanced up at him. He had that intense look in his eyes, which made her want to blush. Ciara inspected the material he referred to. It had purple embroidery. It was gorgeous.
“Do you think so?”
“It would go well with your eyes,” he replied. She looked up at him, surprised. Katsuo turned to the merchant. “How much is it?”
“You really don’t have to…” Ciara trailed off as she realized Katsuo ignored her protest. She sighed, willing away the feeling of warmth in her chest. The indigo silk he’d pointed out would make a gorgeous kimono or dress. But she was not going to be here long enough to wear it. She had to go home, because…
While the men were busy with bargaining, Ciara got lost in her thoughts of conflicting feelings. She paid little attention to her environment and to the silks spread out before her. She certainly felt… something when it came to Katsuo, but did he feel it, too? She had to constantly remind herself it was a fake engagement but couldn’t help being awed by the person he turned out to be.
But her fate lay in another time and place. She was born hundreds of years in the future and thousands of miles away. She had to get back. Her whole life was�
��
“Back there… what was it?” Ciara mumbled to herself as she felt a shiver run through her. What would she leave behind if she—
A hand closed over her mouth and nose, and she struggled to breathe. Someone held her from behind with a strong grip and was dragging her away. She couldn’t make any noise and flailed toward Katsuo, but his back was turned to her. She locked gazes with the merchant for a moment, but he looked away immediately. Or was that just her imagination?
The world turned black as she ran out of air.
1 lit. ’fat cat’; it’s not the cat’s proper name
31
Katsuo was satisfied when he made the deal. He got a good price for the material. Now he only had to persuade Ciara to go with him to the tailor the next day since it was probably closed already. He turned to tell her his wish and was surprised to see that she wasn’t there. He looked around, hoping to see her, but she was nowhere to be found.
“Deliver this at the castle. Today,” he told the merchant, distracted.
“That’ll be another silver—”
“Forget it,” he bit out, grabbed the material, and strolled up to the nearest pair of guards. His afternoon went so well after he had escaped the castle. Why was it turning out this way? His instincts screamed in alarm.
“Have you seen a foreigner woman in a kimono?” he asked the guards as soon as they were within ear-shot. One of them, a man in his late twenties straightened as he noticed him and bowed. The other, who was a teenager, looked between them in confusion but followed his partner’s lead.
“A foreigner in a kimono?” The older one echoed. “Yes, I have seen her standing with you, sir.”
“I mean, after that! She disappeared. Have you seen anything?”
The man scratched his chin, thinking.
“No, I can’t say I have seen what happened.” He looked at the teenager next to him. “What about you?”
“I haven’t seen a foreigner in kimono.”
Katsuo suppressed a growl. His thoughts raced one after another. What had happened to Ciara and how come no one had seen anything? Her scent lingered in his nose and he looked to the side.
“Milord?”
“Boy, take this to the castle,” he shoved the bundle of cloth and the jar of honey at the teenager who stumbled to gather the items. Then he addressed the other guard. “You stay in this area in case she comes back. If you see something, report it back to me.”
“How will I get in touch with you, sir?”
Katsuo’s eyes twitched. They were wasting time. Ciara’s scent was fading.
“Just tell Taiki,” he said and ran off after the scent.
“That was weird,” the teenager said afterward. He received a smack to the back of the head.
“Idiot, that was Lord Kitayama! You better deliver that stuff right away then come back!”
“Eeek!”
She regained consciousness for a moment then lost it. This happened several times during the trip which felt like days had gone by. Finally, Ciara was put down on a flat surface. Her fingers touched wood. She smelled dirt and urine. Ciara crunched up her nose and pushed herself off the floor despite the sudden vertigo. She put a hand on her forehead, hoping to stop the spinning.
“What did you do to me?” she croaked. Her voice was not unlike her own grandmother with a throat infection.
“Oh, you’re already awake? I’m impressed,” said a man’s smooth voice. Ciara peeked out from between her fingers which were spread over her face. The spinning worsened, so she closed her eyes. She felt sick and couldn’t care less if her kidnapper was impressed or not.
I wonder how impressed he’ll be when I throw up on him, she idly wondered, finding humor in the situation.
“Do you want me to make it better?”
Ciara squinted, trying to make out his face. He sounded familiar, and she had the feeling she had seen him somewhere before but couldn’t recall when exactly. It didn’t help that his face was blurred together with the environment. Everything was fuzzy, no matter how many times she blinked. She couldn’t even figure out how the room looked or if it was even a room.
“Do you want me to make it go away?” he repeated. She focused on him.
“For free?”
He chuckled.
“Of course not.”
Ciara felt like throwing up. She put a hand in front of her mouth and leaned forward.
“Oh dear, I didn’t know you’d react so strongly to that smell. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re not human,” he mused. His voice moved closer. He squatted down near her, but kept enough distance so that he wouldn’t be in the danger zone. Ciara breathed in deeply. The smell in the air made her want to gag.
“Or are you? Are witches humans?”
She jerked at that and turned to fully face him. Still, she couldn’t make out his exact features. He had dark hair and a round face, but everything was blurry. Was this how Karen felt when she couldn’t find her glasses? This was torture!
“Not in the mood to talk?” He reached a hand out to stroke her hair, and Ciara jerked her head away and scowled at nothing in particular. The man let his hand linger for a moment, before forcefully grabbing her hair and pulling it back. A shriek escaped Ciara’s throat before she felt the bile rise in her throat. Throwing up would be a very bad idea, considering her position, so she fought with every ounce of her being to calm her stomach. Something wet rolled along her cheek and she realized she was crying. She didn’t want to! Not in front of her torturer!
She could actually hear him smirk when he spoke again: “I can help you. You just need to say the word, and I’ll make it all go away.”
Like hell.
She managed to spit in his face in her anger, and he angrily dropped her to the floor. More disastrous smells and a worsening headache awaited her.
“I see you want to get right to business.”
He dug his elbow into her back, and a sob tore from her at the helplessness she felt. After a moment of silence, he continued his monologue in a calm, chatty manner.
“See, when I brought you through, I thought you could make something useful. You know, magical objects or something, but then I realized I got the wrong witch.”
Ciara had a hard time concentrating on his words. She tried to make sense what was happening around her.
“Who are you?” she croaked. “Why are you doing this?”
“Silence! I didn’t say you can speak!” He put more weight on his elbow. Now the tears streamed down freely on Ciara’s cheek as she cried out. She felt as if her lungs were being crushed. Surprisingly, the man eased up on her back. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I got the wrong person. But you may be even more useful than her. I can adjust my plans, no worries. So, my question to you. What would you do for the chance to go back home?”
Ciara froze.
“I see I have your attention. Now, you may speak.”
After a heartbeat of silence, Ciara spoke up. Her voice was but a whisper. “What do you want?”
“Nothing difficult, really. Sing for me.”
“What the—?” Ciara turned her head to try and look up at him. She was flabbergasted.
“Don’t look at me like that. If you sing me a certain piece at the time and place of my choosing, I will make sure you get home safely.”
“Are you serious?!” Ciara asked in disbelief. She couldn’t hope—she wouldn’t—but all this suffering for just one song?
“I am.”
“What song are we talking about?” Her curiosity got the better of her. Going home was within reach, and all she had to do was to sing a song? It was unbelievably lucky!
A dark chuckle left his lips, which made her shiver with a bad feeling. There was a catch, she just felt it in her bones. However, silly as human nature was, she still held onto hope, on the slim chance that it could be that easy to solve all her problems.
“An aria.”
“Which one?” Ciara closed her ey
es. She suspected the worst.
“Queen of the Night.”
32
“No way in hell!” she cried.
“You don’t want to go home?”
“I do, but not like that! I must never, ever—”
“And why is that, hm? A fable from childhood, perhaps?” The man leaned down and ran his fingers along her cheeks. His nails were long and sharp, like claws, but he was careful not to break skin. Not this time. “Just a little song, and you can fly home, my bird. Isn’t that what you want?”
“I can’t. Only very few people can sing the highest note in that aria.”
“I know you’re able to.”
“No, I’m not,” Ciara insisted. “And how the hell do you know about this piece when it hasn’t even been written?”
“Ah, that hurt! I thought you’d remember me,” he replied with a sad sigh. “I guess not. Anyway, do we have a deal?”
“Are you deaf?”
“I’m at the end of my patience, little witch.” He raised his voice and dug his fingers into her back. “If you do not want to sing for me, then I have no use for you! Last chance!”
Ciara cried out in pain.
“Stop!” Her voice was stronger than she felt at that moment. She could feel the magic stirring her blood. But her captor held her firmly. “Let me go!”
“That won’t work on me,” he said, emitting a dark chuckle.
“What?” Ciara stopped struggling for a second. She rarely used her magic, but it had always worked before.
“Oh, you should see the look on your face!” the man said, mirth lacing his voice. He leaned so close Ciara could feel his breath on her face. He whispered into her ear as if he was sharing a grand secret with her. “The blood in my veins is much more powerful than your magic, little witch.”
Ciara didn’t understand the meaning of his words. What she did understand was that the Voice didn’t work on him and she had to think of another way to get out of the sticky situation. She continued to struggle.
Her captor scoffed and gathered Ciara’s hands at her back. He gripped her wrists in one hand.
“I’m getting tired of this,” he sighed dramatically. “Maybe I should just kill you and kidnap that little blondie. What was her name? Kitty? Carol? Karen?”
