(no subject)

[annapeace.livejournal.com]

Title: Mazurka
Summary: Time moves and worlds change but the dancers stay the same.
Turns 4-6


(step)

“Are you still angry at me, my Queen?” Trilar murmurs quietly. They are walking through the halls, following Lord Kethran to meet the mages, and although the stone walls encourage echoes Trilar’s voice carries no further than he intended it to.

Kyllara sighs. “Not about what you said, but you didn’t really have to embarrass me in front of everyone, you know.”

“Sorry.”

“Then we’re even,” Kyllara replies. “I was never raised to be queen; it was always Sithru who was going to rule. I’m still getting used to it. And I’m glad you’re here to help me.”

Trilar’s stony expression takes on a certain softness. “It’s my honor to serve, my Queen.”

“You used to know my name,” Kyllara says tartly to hide the smile playing on her lips.

“Yes, Kyllara.”

She lays a hand fondly on her companion’s arm as they continue to walk after Lord Kethran. The youthful lord is dressed in the fashion of his tribe, his long flowing robes fluttering behind him with each step. To Kyllara, his clothes are horribly inconvenient for movement as compared to the Wolf tribe’s traditional close fitting leathers, but to her sudden amusement she notices another inconvenience they offer. The young queen leans up to whisper in Trilar’s ear.

“Stare as hard as you like, you aren’t going to get a clear view of his ass in those robes.”

Trilar doesn’t blush but he does shift his gaze elsewhere, making Kyllara snicker.

“I’m sorry?” Kethran inquires, turning back with a puzzled look on his face.

“Nothing, my Lord,” Kyllara apologizes.

Kethran smiles and nods. “This gate leads to the inner garden, where the mages usually like to spend their time. Please.” He bows, allowing Kyllara and Trilar to pass through the archway ahead of him. Kyllara manages to suppress her amusement this time as she notices Lord Kethran more subtly return Trilar’s earlier attention as the lanky warrior walks by.

Then she looks forward to the vibrant garden at the middle of the castle. Pastel flowers dot the vines that lace over large, purple–leafed trees. Fuzzy looking bushes sprouting fruits she had never seen before edge the walls, and at the center of the garden is a mirror-like pool, reflecting the night sky above.

“This place is lovely,” Kyllara exclaims.

“It’s my wife’s work.” A dark man in loose robes fades into view; he had blended with the shadows so well that had he not spoken, they would not have seen him. Even now, only his outline is visible, sitting cross-legged next to the pond. “I think it’s silly, but she never listens to me.”

“Master Shen,” Lord Kethran greets, not at all put off at the man’s remarks about his wife. It appears to be the usual discourse. “May I introduce you to Queen Kyllara of the Wolf tribe and her advisor, Trilar. Master Shen is a great swordsman and scholar as well a mage.”

“I hope we haven’t disturbed you,” Kyllara says.

“Not at all. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Shen rises to his feet, showing himself to be of average height. His eyes, revealed by the bright moonlight, are as dark as his skin and hair. “I’m only waiting for my wife to return.”

“I’d love to meet her as well.” Kyllara hesitates a moment. “If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look much like a Crescent Moon tribesman.”

Shen shrugs. “It’s because I’m not. I come from further east, the land of fire. I’d still be there now if not for Ravenna.” A passing shadow flits over the ground between them as a gray owl glides overhead. It circles once before landing upon the branch of a nearby tree. “Ah, here she is now. Showing off, as usual.”

The owl hoots vindictively at him and then blurs, becoming a golden eyed woman. Her transformation leaves her in tight, scanty clothing which her husband covers with a cloak as he helps her down from the tree. Once standing, she is easily several inches shorter than everyone present, but there is an exquisite smallness about her.

“Hello, Kethran,” Ravenna hails, giving a slight nod of her head, her gray-blue hair fluttering with her movement. Next to her husband she is milk pale. “Queen Kyllara, Trilar, it’s good to finally meet. I was watching as you made your way up the mountain.”

Kyllara bows deeply to the tiny woman. “You are most impressive, Mistress Ravenna.”

Ravenna smiles lightly. “Shen thinks I’d be more impressive if I were taller, but he’s an uneducated lout. It’s late now, so we should talk tomorrow. And we will have much to talk about. The men from the West will soon be camped on our doorstep.”

(step)

The castle is not very imposing, as far as castles go. There are spires and crenellations that are mostly unnecessary and the walls look like they could be thicker. Built from white rock, the entire thing seems fancifully mystic rather than emanating doom. The only strong point is that it backs against a sheer cliff. Tom doesn’t see how this will be a long siege. Perhaps Dan had been overly pessimistic.

The morning air has a biting chill and even Dan, who hates the way wool itches, has piled it on in layers.

“Are we going to get started?” Dan asks, his words punctuated by white puffs of breath. “A couple of catapults will knock down a wall, or we can ram the gate, then we can go charging in.”

“It won’t be that easy.”

Dan grins, but it looks more like a grimace. “Well yeah, but if I don’t start moving soon I’m going to freeze my balls off.”

Tom continues to stare at the castle gate, ignoring his friend. “I want to talk with them first.”

“You don’t speak their language, and I doubt they speak ours,” Dan points out.

“We should try.” Tom puts a hand on his sword and shifts uncomfortably. “They have to see they’re at a serious disadvantage. Why kill them if we don’t have to?”

“Yeah, just evict them peacefully. I’m sure that’ll go real well,” Dan snorts sarcastically.

Again, Tom ignores him. “I’m going up.” He nudges Fly gently and the mare obediently trots forward towards the gate. Dan mutters a few curses, but edges his mount forward as well.

“What are you doing?”

“Coming along, Captain. Someone’s got to cover you if hell breaks loose.” Dan grins, and this time it’s flippant. “God knows this rabble won’t get anywhere without you.”

Tom will never say it, but he’s suddenly glad Dan’s willing to look out for him. Together, they ride up cautiously, both making efforts to show they’re unarmed. They pause just outside of bow range, and when there is no response, they ride closer until Tom thinks he can be heard.

“Well, you’re the captain.” Dan sketches a mocking bow.

Tom steels himself; words have never been his strong point and he feels more than a little stupid shouting at what seems to be an empty castle.

“I’m Captain Tom Kess of the Western Empire, first regiment,” he announces awkwardly. “I’d like to extend a momentary truce and speak to someone regarding the situation.”

Dan nods, laughing quietly to himself. “Eloquent as a fucking fox, sir.”

Tom glares at his friend for a minute before returning his attention to the castle. Still, no one has appeared.

“If you don’t respond, I’ll have no choice but to order the attack.”

“We will confer with you, Captain Tom Kess.” The reply is in accented Common speech of the Western Empire, and the sudden resonating voice seems to come from the stones of the wall itself. “If you and your man will stand ten lengths from the gate, we will meet you there.”

“Well fuck me.” Dan Maxwell scratches the back of his head ruefully. “Didn’t know Common was taught up here.”

Tom is already moving to obey the voice. He knows he is lucky to have been understood, every move he has made so far was a risk. When he and Dan arrive at the spot, they dismount and wait. A few minutes later, the castle gate cracks open just wide enough for four people to emerge.

The two in the lead are women, one tall, slender and pale, cloaked in pastel silks, the other younger, darker, and wrapped in furs. Behind them are two men, one in light armor, the other in a simple robe that offsets his dark skin.

The young woman in fur widens her eyes as she sees him as though she recognizes him, but Tom is sure they have never met before.

The entourage halts a safe distance from them.

“I am Queen Silva, I rule these lands. You wish to discuss the situation,” the pale woman says, and Tom understands that it was her voice that came from the rocks. The dark skinned man seems to be translating for the other two in their group. “Please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom clears his throat uneasily. “I have orders from our leaders to take this land for our empire.”

Queen Silva smiles faintly. “This is our land.”

“That’s not the way the Council sees it,” Dan interrupts before Tom can reply. Tom glares murder at the sergeant and Dan blithely disregards him.

“Isn’t that always the way?” Queen Silva murmurs.

“Yes, well.” Tom struggles to regain control of the conversation. “If possible, we’d like to avoid bloodshed. You and your people can leave unharmed.”

The younger woman, hearing the translation, snaps a reply.

“This is Queen Kyllara,” the dark skinned man explains. “She rules the Wolf tribe which you chased from the lowlands. She wants to know where you expect her people to run to because soon your Council will want more and only come after them again.”

“I can’t promise that won’t happen. But right now, this is all I can offer you,” Tom says.

“Then I’m afraid we do not accept,” Queen Silva says in her gentle voice. “My sister queen is right, leaving would only delay the inevitable. We will stay, and if you attack, we will defend ourselves.”

Tom nods understandingly. “I’m sorry.”

“You are a nice man, Captain Kess. I am glad to have met you.” Silva inclines her head to him before turning to lead the others back inside. Queen Kyllara is the last to follow, looking over her shoulder at him with questioning eyes.

That, Tom does not understand, but he doesn’t have time to ponder it now. It’s with a heavy heart that he orders Dan to form up the troops.

(spin)

Natsumi, Fuyumi, Shizuka, and Fuyumi’s best friend Mako have met by the temple steps. They were all dressed in school uniforms as they had come straight from school. They headed up the steep stairs together and all conversation revolved around the exam they had just taken.

“I should have come here before school,” Fuyumi complained. “I could have used the good luck charm for that test.”

“You could have come,” Natsumi pointed out, “except you barely woke up early enough to make it to school. If I hadn’t woken you, you’d be a great deal more trouble now.”

Fuyumi made a few more half hearted grumbles, but they had reached the temple gate and their attention had shifted.

“It’s always so peaceful here,” Mako breathed. “And every time I come I forget why I didn’t want to be a shrine maiden.”

“Because of Old Man Fei and his wife, duh.” Fuyumi rolled her eyes. “They are so mean to everyone!”

“Oh, I don’t know, my brother works for them, remember, and he says they’re actually really nice once you get to know them.” Mako glanced around, then broke into a smile. “There he is, niisan!”

A handsome young man in temple clothes was sweeping on the other side of the court yard. At Mako’s call, he looked up and trotted over.

“Hey, you guys. What are you doing here?” He greeted all of them, but his eyes lingered on Shizuka.

“Fuyumi-chan wanted to buy some charms,” Mako answered.

“Yes, she did,” Natsumi said. “So let’s go, oneechan. Mako-chan, why don’t you come with us? It’s good to have a third opinion.”

“I thought that was second opinion,” Shizuka murmured.

“You, be quiet. Let’s go, girls.” Natsumi cheerfully latched on to the other two girls and led them towards the temple gift shop, leaving Shizuka standing alone with Mako’s brother.

In the gift shop, Natsumi left her sister and friend to browse and went to loiter by the cash register. There was nothing she really wanted to buy, and there was a fan by the register that helped negate the sticky heat of oncoming summer. Behind the counter was the man Fuyumi had called Old Man Fei, a serious looking man with Chinese features. He was often gruff with the school girls that came here, but nodded in a friendly manner at Natsumi.

“Hello, Chang-san. How is your wife?”

“Unbearable, as usual. How is school?”

Natsumi laughed. “School’s fine, we’re almost at summer break and I can’t wait for graduation.”

Chang Fei looked to reply, but he suddenly frowned, his attention caught by a young man in a business suit wandering by the shop’s entrance. The man wore mirrored sunglasses and was about to light a cigarette.

“We don’t tolerate smoking on temple grounds,” Chang Fei barked. “Fire hazard, you fool.”

Natsumi stared at the man, wondering why he seemed vaguely familiar, but he had bowed ruefully and left before she could get a good look at him. She could have sworn she’d seen him before, but where?

--

(step)

The Wolf tribe takes over the courtyard each morning for training. The elder members monitor the children while the injured are put through their slowly, gaining more mobility as they heal. Members of the Crescent Moon tribe sometimes gather around to watch, intrigued by the warriors at practice. This is what Mina and Kethran are doing now, sitting on a wooden bench after breakfast.

At the center of the courtyard, Trilar is sparring with Master Shen, both armed with long swords. Shen’s fighting style is different from the Wolf tribe’s, and Mina can’t help commenting on it.

“He looks more like he’s dancing than fighting.”

Kethran nods. “He told me once it’s a form of meditation. The body performs the steps automatically, freeing the mind to think.”

“Whatever it is, I’d like to learn it,” Kyllara says, breathing easily as she comes to a stop next to them. She’s taken to running laps around the castle perimeter, admitting that she feels edgy being so confined to one spot.

“How are you holding up, Queen Kyllara?” Kethran asks.

“Badly.” She makes a face and dashes some sweat off her brow. “I’ve never been in a siege before, and right now I’m sure I hate it. Aren’t we going to counter attack at all? The thought of not responding is driving me insane.”

“Our way has always been to wait for our enemies to give up first,” Mina offers apologetically. “In this case, winter will drive them off. But if they come back –“

“They’ll come back,” Kyllara says darkly.

“We will consider changing our strategy,” Kethran finishes for his sister. “We’re more used to remaining in the castle, but I doubt we’d be able to bear it forever either.”

Kyllara smiles wryly. “You’re certainly doing better than me so far.” Then she turns to survey the courtyard. Shen is resting now, while Trilar has moved to help instruct the children. “Trilar is as well, he’s steadier than a rock. He saved my life, you know. When my parents fell…he was the only one who had the presence of mind to know what to do. He dragged me out of the fight kicking and screaming and if he hadn’t, I’d be dead on that field now.”

“And your people would have been without a queen,” Mina says quietly.

Kyllara waves her hand dismissively. “It means so much to them, but my blood is as red as anyone’s. Still, if it helps them…” She shrugs and bows, excusing herself and heading over to Trilar.

“She’s a good person,” Kethran notes, his voice strangely sad. “They’re good together, aren’t they?”

Mina frowns and wants to ask what her brother means, but is distracted by the sudden uproar that comes from the middle of the courtyard. Kyllara and Trilar are sparring now and it looks nothing like Trilar’s match with Shen. Their movements are quicker, sharper, more vicious, and Mina is almost scared. To her it doesn’t seem like a practice match, it looks like a fight to the death.

Around the battling pair, the Wolf tribe has formed a ring. The elder members watch with expressions of wistfulness and approval on their lined faces; the children are enraptured with expressions of awe, a few of them already attempting to mimic the movements they see.

“They’re a sight, aren’t they?” Shen comments, grinning. He sits down next to Mina.

“They’re something all right,” Mina responds.

(step)

The castle he so easily dismissed earlier haunts him now. It stands, shrouded by cloud-mist like some mythic creature, rejecting everything he tries against it. Every attack slides off like oil over ice, and the castle is as insurmountable now as it ever was. Secretly, Tom is pleased; no lives have been lost yet and it’s the best campaign he’s ever been on.

Rumors begin to spread of mage-magic protecting the place, but Tom cannot believe that because he does not believe mages exist. He likes to deal with tangible facts, and the fact is that winter has arrived.

It snows every night, only lightly, but the snow freezes as it touches the ground and it’s building up too fast.

“Maxwell,” he orders, “tell the men to start packing. If we don’t leave now, we’ll be stuck up here, and we haven’t got supplies to last us.”

Dan nods; he knows the situation just as well and has no wish to freeze or starve. “But you know the Council won’t be happy to hear this.”

“They’re my men and I don’t want them to die,” Tom says harshly. “If the Council’s so set on this, they can send troops back in spring once the snow melts.”

So the men from the West leave in a slow trickle down the mountain, hoping to get home before the snow blocks the passes completely. Captain Tom Kess and Sergeant Dan Maxwell are the last two to abandon their camp and haven’t gone far when they suddenly stop.

“Captain?” Dan inquires, because it’s Tom that stopped first, he only follows.

Tom’s expression is one of frustration. “It’s winter…but in the South, they’ll still be fighting. It’s warm enough there.”

“Yes?”

“If I return, I’ll just be sent right back out.” There is a moment of silence, and Tom seems to have come to a conclusion.

“Are you deserting, sir?” Dan asks, a half smile on his face.

“I’m not stupid enough to think I can escape the Council. No, I’m just going to stay here. Tell them I’m assessing the situation.” Tom rubs his face wearily with a gloved hand. “I just want peace for one winter.”

Dan’s smile spreads across the rest of his face. “I’ll send a lieutenant to tell them, sir. What, you think I’m going to abandon my commanding officer on the enemies’ doorstep? I’d get so many demerits they’d take my horse away! Besides, it’ll be easier for two people, sir.”

Tom isn’t emotional by nature and the gratitude he feels threatens to overwhelm him. He doesn’t thank Dan, or say anything else regarding the matter, knowing Dan understands just fine.

When the last of the men have vanished from sight, Tom turns to the sergeant, thinking they should find a more suitable area to set up, one that can withstand the brutal winter. Before they can say a word however, they are interrupted.

“Such a shame.”

Both soldiers are surprised and whirl with swords half drawn to discover Queen Kyllara watching them. She is leaning against a tree, wearing a wolf skin cloak, and her dark eyes flicker with suspicion. Beside her is a tall man bristling with weapons. How they managed to come up behind them unheard Tom doesn’t know, but he feels a sharp pang of embarrassment for his inattention.

“I hoped you would go.” Her Common is thickly accented and it’s clear her disdain for speaking the language. Assured they mean no harm, Tom regains his composure and re-sheathes his sword, Dan doing the same a minute later.

“We want to stay,” Tom explains shortly. “No fighting. Is that all right with you?”

“Yes, so we heard, winter of peace,” the young queen grins baring all her teeth, glancing up at a curious blue-gray falcon perched above her. “Queen Silva likes that idea. I tell you now, I do not trust you, Western man. But I do not rule here, so you are invited to stay with us, in the castle.”

“And become your prisoners forever, to be used as bargaining chips later on?” Dan says sarcastically.

“It is truce,” Kyllara demurs. “You will have safety inside and you will leave when you want. Winter of peace.” She laughs and the sound is sharp and barking. “This is your choice. Come if you wish.”

With that, she turns and leaves, her companion right beside her. The owl in the tree hoots once and takes off as well.

“Well Captain?” Dan turns to him. “Your call.”

“Winter of peace,” Tom mutters, scowling at the gray laden sky. They could survive out here, they are trained soldiers and they know how to hunt, but it would be so much easier… “Get the horses. We’ll go.”

(spin)

It was swelteringly hot as it rained. Somehow, instead of dissipating the heat, the rain seemed to be carrying it down from the sky to the pavement, so despite the downpour the Yamano twins walked home from school slowly, each trudging along under their own umbrellas.

To Natsumi it was too stifling to talk, but Fuyumi gossiped on about the rumors she’d learned today.

“Mako-chan has a secret boyfriend, did you know that?”

Natsumi sighed, almost indulgently, and shifted her umbrella from one hand to the other. “You think everyone has a secret boyfriend, oneechan.”

“I do not, and I happen to know that this is true,” Fuyumi insisted. “I hear he’s a foreigner, can you imagine? Our Mako-chan with some…some American loudmouth? And she won’t tell me anything, as if I couldn’t keep a secret…”

Natsumi tuned her sister out with the experience of one who’s had years of practice and stepped lightly up the front steps to their home. Leaving her umbrella to dry under the overhang, she opened the front door and let her sister go in ahead of her.

“I’m going to call Papa and tell him to bring Chinese home for dinner,” Fuyumi decided, heading for the living room. “Do you want to – Natsumi!”

That last word had ended in a squeal, and Natsumi darted into the living room, thinking her sister had spotted a cockroach. She was dead wrong as two burly arms wrapped around her from behind, holding her up off floor. Natsumi gasped sharply but stopped struggling almost immediately, she could see other men in dark suits standing around the room and they all looked threatening. Fuyumi was being held by another man and was wriggling for all she was worth. The man had her mouth covered with one square hand, muffling the squeaks she kept emitting.

“I see you’re going to be sensible about this, dear,” said a woman seated on the couch. She had blonde dyed hair and wore a suit of fine cut; it seemed she was in charge here. “Please, have a seat, we have something to discuss.”

She motioned with one elegant hand and Natsumi was set down on her feet. Trying to compose herself, she smoothed her skirt with more force than was necessary, then took a deep breath and sat primly on the chair across from the woman.

“You’re very agreeable,” the woman said, her tone amused.

“I’m outnumbered and I have no idea what’s going on,” Natsumi retorted. “Could you please tell your man to let my sister go?”

The woman motioned again and Fuyumi was released. She immediately ran to Natsumi and clung to her, all the while yelling.

“Our father is going to be home soon and when he does –“

“Be quiet,” the woman cut in sternly. “Your father won’t be coming home, and while the rain prevents the neighbors from hearing you, I can hear you and it’s getting on my nerves.”

Fuyumi paled, tears trembling in her eyes.

“It’s all right, oneechan,” Natsumi murmured, holding her sister tightly. Lifting her head, she fixed the woman with a flinty glare. “Are you going to explain what’s going on? Where’s Father?”

The woman smiled faintly. “Allow me to introduce myself first, I’m Yukishiro Akiko. I work for a very powerful man, and he’s very angry at your father right now, because…how shall I put this? Your father fucked up. He’s taken off, we don’t know where, so I’ve come to collect his precious daughters as collateral.”

Fuyumi let out a strangely huffy sounding whimper.

“How much does he owe?” Natsumi asked flatly. Akiko seemed slightly startled by her question, but replied smoothly.

“More than you’ve got in your cute little wallets,” she said patronizingly.

Natsumi rolled her eyes impatiently and slid her diamond bracelet off her wrist, tossing it to Akiko. Then she nudged Fuyumi, who understood but grudgingly took her necklace off and handed it over. Akiko studied the jewelry closely and seemed suitably impressed.

“Quality stuff. This and the house is probably half.”

“The house?” Fuyumi squeaked indignantly. “It belonged to our mother!”

“Half?” Natsumi said at the same time, somewhat dismayed.

“He owes just that much.” Akiko shrugged her thin shoulders, still admiring the glitter of the jewels. “I have to say I’m a bit surprised. Your father so obviously dotes on you two, yet he won’t show up when you really need him.”

“What if we can get the other half?” Natsumi wanted to know, ignoring Akiko’s musings.

She sniffed rather disdainfully. “From who, your brother? He’s a university student with a part time job, not exactly loan material. Unless he secretly has two hundred million saved up? I’m sorry, ladies, but I think you’ll be getting the rest by working for us.”

“I’m asking for a week,” Natsumi said firmly. Despite the nervous chewing of her bottom lip, her gaze remained steady. “If we can get the money, you’ll be paid back in one week, Yukishiro-san. Who knows how long it’d take if you put us to work.”

“Not that long, I’m sure,” she said, giving them an appraising look and a smirk. Fuyumi blushed red and tugged down on her skirt. Natsumi just managed to fight off the impulse. Akiko laughed. “You’re quite resourceful, dear, and you quite amuse me. You can have your week, and I’ll even let you stay in this house until the deadline. I warn you though, don’t try running away or going to the police, this is yakuza business now and we don’t like it when things get in the way of our deals.”

“Thanks for telling me so many things I already know,” Natsumi said coldly.

Akiko laughed again. “I look forward to seeing your efforts, and to meeting again. My business card is in your father’s study should you need to reach me.” She stood, the creases in her suit straightening almost automatically, and left with her men, not bothering to say goodbye.

The girls stayed sitting on the couch, their hands clasped tightly together.

“I can’t believe Papa owes that much! And now he’s left us? How could he! How are we going to get two hundred million yen in a week?” Fuyumi cried. “Natsumi-chan, I don’t want to be a…a whore!”

“First we need to find oniisan and talk to him,” Natsumi answered comfortingly, trying to stay rational. “And then, I’ll think of something. I’ll take care of us, oneechan. Don’t worry.”

Standing outside, just out of sight from the living room window, the man wearing mirrored sunglasses took a deep drag on his cigarette. He blew the smoke carefully out from under his umbrella into the hot rain, making it seem like so much mist. Then he dropped the cigarette, snuffing it with his foot even though it was hardly necessary, and pulled out his cell phone.

--

(step)

The Crescent Moon tribe accepts the Westerners with a solemn sort of dignity, but the Wolf tribe – despite the fact that neither man had ever actually killed one of their own – refuses to go near them. They are guilty by association, by their race, by their meaningless names. Personally, Trilar feels the animosity is petty and he doesn’t waste time on it. He only hopes Kyllara realizes this as well; as queen she should set a good example. Trilar knows he dotes on her more than he should, but a lifetime of habit is hard to ignore.

“But you’re making Lord Kethran awful sad,” Kyllara points out, almost teasing. They are in the room Queen Silva had provided for Kyllara and she sits by the candle, carefully brushing her hair. “Don’t you like him?”

“He’s out of my league,” Trilar replies diffidently.

“Nonsense, I’ll lord you right now if you want.” Kyllara laughs. “I’m serious though. He’s enamored with you, and why shouldn’t he be? So if you like him, tell him. Or I can tell him for you.”

“My Queen,” Trilar says, a hint of protest in his voice. “Surely you have better things to do.”

“Of course I don’t, it’s a blizzard outside and I’m stuck in here bored out of my mind,” Kyllara complains. “I can’t even go to the inner garden anymore for fear Princess Bunny will drag me to another one of her ‘teas’. Now there’s a girl who can keep herself occupied, I’ve never known a more frivolous person.”

“She has a good heart,” Trilar points out.

The young queen sighs. “I know. That’s what drives me crazy, she’s so nice you can’t even hate her. Mina though, she’s very sensible and I like her.” Kyllara pauses to gather her hair into a neat twist and changes subject suddenly. “Is it almost time for dinner?”

“Just about.” Trilar feels a faint smile touch his lips watching his queen check her reflection in a borrowed mirror. “Vanity, Kyllara? After so many years?”

Kyllara sets the mirror down, blushing faintly. “I’m entitled to it now and then, aren’t I?”

Trilar supposes she is, but he can’t help wondering who exactly she means to impress.

(step)

Dan Maxwell isn’t too sure how his friend feels, but he’s never had a better time in his life. The mountain people are all pale and lovely, especially the women, the food is exotic and much better than the stale army rations he’s used to, and – well all right, the lowlanders don’t like him much but they’re impressive to watch while they train in the courtyard. If he thinks they’d let him, he would ask to practice with them, but he knows better.

Generally he has dinner in his room, sometimes with Tom, sometimes without, despite Queen Silva’s invitations, because he’s not sure he wants to be so near the queen. She’s nice but royalty still makes him uncomfortable, and he considers it best to spend less time around her. Tonight though, it’s Lady Mina that asks him to attend the dinner party, and he likes Lady Mina. They have a hard time communicating but she always smiles when she sees him and he loves the way she smells of summer sunshine, so tonight he’s eating in the main hall, sitting happily next to her.

His captain is there too, looking far out of place in his shirt and breeches. Although they’ve both been given robes to wear, Tom continues to wear the clothes he’s brought with him. Dan prefers the robes; they feel better than the coarse linen his garments are made of. Dan is unashamedly a hedonist, and after the life he’s led he thinks of his stay here as making up for lost time.

Around the table are the queen’s closest friends, including the lowlander queen and her guard. They are people Dan can respect, the man tactfully tacit and the young queen fiercely clever. They’re beautiful as well, in a different, more dangerous way, and Dan admits he admires them.

“Both?” Mina asks in lilting Common, her brow creasing as she tries to understand.

Dan colors lightly. “The Council doesn’t approve of me, but yeah, both.”

“Ah.” Mina nods, her flaxen hair rippling from the movement. “Queen Silva, she is too. Both. But none since the princess was born.” She pauses, suddenly lowering her gaze. “Can I know, do you admire me?”

“My Lady,” Dan says seriously, “you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

She smiles, just somewhat smugly. “And how many other women have you said this to?”

“Very many, but it doesn’t make it any less true when I say it to you,” he replies glibly, making her laugh. It sounds like silver bells, and he loves it.

“You are horrible man, Sergeant Maxwell.”

“He is Westerner,” Queen Kyllara says disparagingly, although when they look across the table at her she is grinning. The lowlander queen seems to find teasing Dan and Tom entertaining, and Dan takes it in stride.

Kyllara converses with Mina in their own language for a while, and Dan takes the time to observe the others around him. Mina’s brother – Lord Kethran, he remembers – and the lowlander man, Trilar, both look quietly pleased with something. Queen Silva, her son-in-law, and the alleged mage Master Shen (Dan doesn’t believe in magic, he thinks Shen must be a witch doctor or shaman) are discussing matters in low voices. When he sees his captain, Dan has to smother a laugh: Princess Bunny has taken his ear and is bubbling in broken Common about why she can’t eat certain foods if she hopes to get pregnant, something Tom has absolutely no interest in. Dan knows his captain finds the princess trying, but he finds Siluna sweet. It’s rare for anyone to be as innocent as Princess Bunny.

“Next time, you’re sitting next to her,” Tom mutters out of the side of his mouth.

“Sorry sir, but I don’t want to make Mina jealous,” Dan counters gleefully. “I’ve got a good thing going; maybe you should try switching to the other side.”

“Next to Kyllara?” He sounds reluctant, yet the expression on his face is troubled. “She doesn’t like me, it’d cause friction.”

“I never said I don’t like you,” Kyllara cuts in suddenly, proving her hearing is sharper than most others. “I said I don’t trust you. Is it a Western custom to put words in other people’s mouths?”

“Is it a lowlander custom to blame everything on race?” Tom returns rigidly. Dan is surprised as his captain is usually so composed. It’s unlike him to pick a fight.

“Only since you made it a custom to slaughter my people,” Kyllara announces.

The table falls into an uneasy hush at this as all conversations die.

“Don’t make it sound like I represent the Council or the rest of the Empire,” Tom grinds out from between clenched teeth. “I don’t…I’ve never…I get orders to fight and kill, it’s my job, not my custom.”

Seemingly satisfied that she’s touched a sore spot, Kyllara rises from her seat. She looks down at Tom with something akin to sympathy. “What an empty way to live. My people are wolves, Captain Kess, we know killing and we know blood. We fight because it is a joy, we kill when we desire a person to die. Perhaps this makes us a savage, but I find it more honorable to kill a man I hate than to kill a man for no other reason except someone told me to. But maybe this is just another difference between me and you, Western man.”

Kyllara finishes and moves to leave the tensely silent room. But before she can reach the exit, Ravenna blows into the room in a whirl of blue-gray feathers.

(spin)

Fuyumi was scared. Up until an hour ago, she was a normal high school girl looking forward to a relaxing summer break. Now her father was gone and she was a week away from being sold into prostitution (oh, that Yukishiro woman had never said it outright but Fuyumi knew, it was just like in all the movies) and all she wanted was to climb into bed and pretend like everything was okay.

But Takeshi had ordered her and Natsumi to meet him at his apartment so they were going, rushing so fast the umbrellas couldn’t keep up and they were getting soaked by the searing rain. If only it weren’t so hot, Fuyumi thought despairingly. It was like running in a sauna and she felt like she would faint at any moment. If it weren’t for Natsumi, she would never have made it.

Her younger sister was a reserve of strength. Fuyumi gripped her hand like it was a lifeline, not feeling the slightest bit ashamed. Being older, albeit by only twelve minutes, didn’t automatically give her the means to cope and if Natsumi was able to deal with their trouble then Fuyumi was going to let herself be taken care of.

They arrived at Takeshi’s apartment steaming and were immediately bundled up in towels. Before they could say anything, he had them change into his spare clothes first, and Fuyumi was never so happy to be dry. When they came back into the living room after changing, they found their brother sitting at the table with a young woman.

“Ah, girls,” Takeshi said. “I wish you could have met under better circumstances, but I’d like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Tomonori Yui.”

“Hello,” Yui greeted them. She was lovely and elegantly put together in a purple sundress. Her hair was coiffed and flawless, and if there hadn’t been a lingering dampness about her Fuyumi would have thought she stepped out of the pages of a magazine, not from the rain outside. Standing there in her brother’s oversized and worn t-shirt and sweatpants, Fuyumi felt woefully inadequate and couldn’t help wondering how her ordinary brother had ended up with a woman like this in the first place. Yui seemed perfect.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Natsumi replied for them both. “I’m Natsumi, this is Fuyumi. Oniisan never told us he had a girlfriend.”

“He was probably waiting for the right time,” Yui said lightly, smiling mysteriously.

“Sit down, girls, I’ll make you some tea,” Takeshi suggested.

“Can we have ice tea instead?” Natsumi asked. “The weird rain makes it too hot for anything warm.”

“Sure, I think I’ve got –“

“Aren’t we going to talk about what happened?” Fuyumi burst out. How could they go on about pleasantries and tea when something so terrible had befallen them?

“Ah –“ Natsumi glanced at her, evaluating. Natsumi would know she was on edge. “Yes, I suppose we shouldn’t put it off.”

Taking a deep breath, Fuyumi sat down at the table next to her sister. She didn’t want to appear hysterical, even though that was how she felt, not in front of Yui who sat so cool and collected. At the very least, Fuyumi wanted to make a good impression.

“We should try to find Papa, right?” Fuyumi started, pleased she had kept the quaver out of her voice. She’d mostly managed using the anger she felt at her father. Papa loved them so, she never imagined he’d abandon at a time like this. “I mean, if we find him, he can get a loan from the bank, right?”

“Actually,” Takeshi said, sounding a little embarrassed, “he can’t. His credit’s shit.”

“Obviously,” Natsumi mumbled.

“What do you mean ‘obviously’, Natsumi-chan?” Fuyumi cried, unable to keep from being shrill. “Did you know Papa had these problems?”

“Oneechan, calm down,” Natsumi said soothingly.

“Yes, don’t worry, Fuyumi-chan,” Takeshi added. “Look, everything’s been taken care of. The Yukishiro organization will get the money and we’ll all be okay, given that the old man doesn’t pull something like this again.”

Fuyumi felt a wave of relief, her dear dependable brother! She had no idea he’d saved up so much. It must have been hard for him, and now he was going to lose it all. But they would be okay, and she’d help him save up more!

“Where is this money coming from?” Natsumi wanted to know suspiciously, her eyes sliding over to Yui.

Takeshi sighed. “You might as well tell them, Yui. It’ll be easier if everything’s clear.”

Yui nodded. “I’m putting it up. My father doesn’t want me to because he hates the Yukishiro organization, but I have vested interest in your brother’s happiness. Plus, I feel a bit guilty because I sort of brought this on.” She reached over and took Takeshi’s hand, not looking repentant at all.

“From one organization to another, eh?” Natsumi said dryly, and Fuyumi didn’t understand.

“What do you mean? Tomonori-san is being generous, Natsumi-chan, we ought to thank her!”

“Oneechan, were you listening?” Natsumi said gently. “Tomonori-san just said that this happened because of our connection, that is oniisan’s connection, to her and her family.”

“You’re quick,” Yui said admiringly. “And it’s true. The Yukishiro organization has been looking to cause my family grief because we’re taking over their businesses. They found a weak spot and dug. Not that two hundred million is a big deal, but it’s an annoyance all the same.”

“Wait,” Fuyumi interrupted, still sorting it all out. “Does this mean…we have to work for you now?”

“Of course not,” Yui laughed. “I’m not asking to be paid back. Consider the money a gift, or my dowry.”

“Oh my,” Natsumi murmured, looking archly at her brother. Takeshi flushed but didn’t let go of Yui’s hand.

“It does mean you might need to be more careful from now on,” Yui warned. “They know a way to affect me now. But I doubt they’d try anything again, it was only legitimate this time because your father’s debt was real, and they know better than to involve civilians without cause.” Yui’s voice became hard as steel. “For their sake, they’d better.” Then she smiled, cheerful once more. “I really wouldn’t worry too much, though if you like I can tell Kino Kazuo to keep watching over you. I asked him to do that a few weeks ago when Takeshi-kun suspected something was going on.”

“The sunglasses guy?” Natsumi suddenly exclaimed, jumping up. “I thought it was weird I kept seeing that guy around!”

“He would have gone after you if Yukishiro had actually taken you,” Yui said. “And he told me how you negotiated for time. You’re a bright girl, Natsumi-chan, perhaps you’d consider working for me anyway after graduation?”

“Yui,” Takeshi said reprovingly. Still, he was grinning. “You girls will have to move in here for now. I hate to say it, but we can’t count on dad to come back and find you a place…”

Fuyumi had lost track of the conversation after Yui assured her there was no work to be done. All she cared to know was that she was safe now and her life would go on as usual. Well, it was upsetting to be abandoned by her father, but she could deal with that tomorrow. Yes, right now she just wanted a nice long rest.