The Blood Burns in My Veins by Megan Derr

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

 

 

"There's an old saying that applies to me: you can't lose a game if you don't play the game."

― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

 

 

Despite his best efforts, Naoki was sober, exactly as his stepmother had wanted. The house guardie kept him from leaving, the servants were too well paid and terrified of his stepmother to defy her, and there was no point in asking his sisters. Which meant all the alcohol had been put well beyond his reach, and there was no way to venture out to get more.

Since a drunken haze was out of the question, Naoki settled for hiding away in his private garden. He sat before the pool of water that dominated it, fed by a delicate little waterfall that in turn came from the little river that wound around and through the whole of the house, helping to keep it cool and allowing for plenty of ways and places to practice the magia that kept their family wealthy and powerful.

They did not, as people believed, control water. Nobody could control any part of nature that way. Water wasn't a dog to be brought to heel or a horse broken to saddle. No, if water was anything at all, it was a lover. Water loved them, indulged them, replied when called, and occasionally granted their requests. Not on a large scale. If a tsunami or hurricane truly wanted to destroy Verona, there would be little Naoki and his family could do to stop it. Mitigate perhaps, but not stop it.

Verona stayed safe from such things because so far the water did not want them harmed, and that love extended, to a lesser degree, to the blood they spilled on ships and in tokens. Anything that carried their blood was by extension family, and largely left alone by the mercurial Oceana, Goddess of the Deep.

He held his hand out over the pool and pushed his will into it, his desperate love to feel the magia, the water, move through and for him. If there was any reason to remain sober from time to time, it was for the one-of-a-kind feel of connecting with water.

The pool rippled out from where his hand hovered, then rippled back in. Next it turned and turned, sinking into a whirlpool and then slowly rising up into a miniature waterspout.

Naoki held on to it until his ears began to ring, and then let it go, watching as the water collapsed into nothing but a calm pool once more.

Next he worked on waves, small at first, and then with increasing strength. Working with such a small pool wasn't anything like full scale, but it was always good for learning and practicing the motions. On days he had actual free time and didn't feel like getting severely drunk, he would go down to the family's private beach and practice in the tide pools, or go swimming and see what he could do amidst the ocean herself.

That was dangerous, of course, and something he was never supposed to do alone, but rules like that were meant for people who cared if they lived. Naoki had been so long resigned to dying, it was starting to get disappointing when death failed to keep the appointment.

A discreet cough drew his attention, and Naoki let his latest efforts collapse back into ripples as he smoothly rose and turned. One of the servants, Ken, bowed low. "Pardon for the interruption, Naoki-don, but Mineko-donna requests an audience, if you're not occupied with anything more important."

Naoki didn't laugh at that, but it was a near thing. Refusing to go see his sister when she summoned was as stupid as refusing an audience with his parents. "Of course, I'll come once I've changed into appropriate attire."

Ken bowed again and left, steps soundless on the wooden floor. Everyone in the house excelled at moving quietly, lest they stir the dragon that was his stepmother.

Dread churning in his stomach like too much bad booze, Naoki left his garden and returned to his room, where he slid open a portion of wall to reveal his wardrobe. Well, part of it. The whole wall was devoted to his clothing, and there were chests in the floor for shoes, jewelry, and more.

He was sorely tempted to show up in jinbei and bare feet, get her good and angry right from the start, begin as they would undoubtedly go on. But if he put his sister in a foul mood, that would put his stepmother in a fouler mood, and the last thing he needed or wanted right then was for the Two Tempests to be raging during his betrothal ball.

So instead he chose a yukata made of dark blue and gray stripes, with a black sash embroidered with gold and silver jellyfish. The colors were far too somber for the season, but appropriate for a meeting with the Lord of the Boiling Abyss.

He tucked a folding fan into one side of his sash and a knife into the other, then swept his hair up with sticks, added some black pearl jewelry to complete the grim ensemble, and finally headed off.

Ken hadn't told him where she was, but only because it wasn't necessary. If his sister was in the house, she was almost invariably in her study, which was a short distance down the hallway from his father's study.

Mineko was practically the spitting image of their father. If she'd been male, they could have been all but twins. They shared an acumen for business, a deftness for magia d'acqua that was unrivaled, and a gregarious charm that fooled most people.

Beneath that deceptive charm they shared a fondness for being the most important person in the room; expensive imported sigaros; smuggled foreign alcohol; and sex with people who were right on the edge between child and adult, where consent was fine but hardly necessary.

A tendency to solve problems with violence also ran through them both, though thanks to his stepmother, they'd at least stopped hitting him where the marks would show. It was a sour victory, but Naoki had long ago learned to take what he could get.

He knocked on the door to Mineko's study and when she called for him to enter, slid the door open, stepped inside, and closed it again, then bowed slightly.

Across the room, surrounded by a ring of fragrant tobacco smoke, Mineko watched him with the eyes of a prowling shark. She was sprawled on a chair made from costly immersa wood, wide and deep, the back slightly angled. One leg was kicked up over an armrest, and her shirt, some ridiculous continental-style with buttons and tight sleeves and a high, pointed collar, was open enough it slipped down to bare her right shoulder. She could only sit in her chair so ridiculously because the pants were continental as well: tight fitting, hiding nothing, completely unsuited to Verona but fashionable anyway.

Like Naoki, Mineko was born of their father's first wife, Chouko. But where Naoki resembled their plain, all-but-forgotten mother, Mineko looked like their father, handsome and imposing. Her hair was braided and pinned around her head like a crown, another continental affectation that was in style. On anyone else the whole look would be gaudy and embarrassing, but Mineko made it look grand somehow, like she'd come directly from the emperor's private office and would be going there again soon to enjoy a moon viewing. Followed by a "moon" viewing with his underage daughter.

"You wanted to see me, eldest sister?"

Mineko took a leisurely pull on her sigaro. "I can't remember the last time I saw you sober."

"I can't remember the last time I saw you bothering to put your clothes on before summoning me."

She wrinkled her nose. "Are you still mad about that serving girl? She was well paid, and they all know they will be. Stop being tiresome, Naoki. I brought you here to bargain with you, not have the same old sniping contests."

He was more concerned about the new serving boy his stepmother had hired to help with the ball, from preparations to clean-up, but there was no point in trying to stop her. He could only hope the boy had sense enough to stay out of her way, or that he'd get to the boy and warn him off before Mineko, or their father, got fangs in him. "What could you possibly need from me?" They both knew what she could give him. "For that matter, why are you bothering to bargain when you could just force the matter?"

She smiled her deceptively sweet smile, a habu tensed for ambush. "Negotiations go further than threats."

"What do you want?" Naoki just wanted the whole thing over with. Negotiation. Fa. That was just the term for 'threaten politely and with shiny distractions.'

Her smiling demeanor vanished like morning mist seared away by the sun. "I want you to cease being a child about this marriage and go through with it as gracefully as is possible for a drunken wastrel."

"It's going to happen no matter what. I don't really see what I have to do with anything, other than to be the puppet speaking the vows." Naoki gripped the back of his neck with both hands and pushed into them, trying to work out knots that never really left. At the disapproving look that earned him, he let his arms fall again. "I'm not going to run away or drink myself into the ocean or whatever. I'm not good for much, but I tend to be obedient."

She sucked on her sigaro and rose gracefully to her feet, the jacket that had been braced behind her falling into the seat where it would wrinkle and cause some poor servant hours of trouble trying to smooth out again. "As I said, I want you to cease being a child about it. I want this marriage to work."

"You? Want this sad attempt at ending the family feud you love so much to work? Since when?" The day the principe had hinted none too subtly that a marriage would take place or very tragic things would happen to the Houses of Ferro and Ishikawa, Mineko and their father had seemed to do their level best to out-shout each other in their fury. Servants, whores, and Deep alone knew who else had suffered for their wrath.

"Since I learned something interesting."

Naoki drew up short at that. Interesting to Mineko meant something that was fuckable, or something that would make her money. Sometimes he thought she should have been born the belladonna of a whorehouse.

"Something that requires you play nice and be a good little husband to Selinah. Obey her, give her some nice fat babies, eat her out every night and make the bitch scream so hard she decides not to kill you."

"Fa," Naoki replied. "I could have the best tongue in the empire and still she'd kill me like the hungry little malmignatta she is."

Mineko laughed and set her sigaro aside on an ashtray before taking a key from the chain around her neck and bending to unlock the bottom drawer of her overblown desk. "Leave her to me. This snake has nothing to fear from a little spider, and she'll be made to know it. All the same, I want you to keep her happy." She smirked as she rose. "As happy as any malmignatta can be, when she's not allowed to kill her spouse, anyway. Here is the first part of my end of the bargain."

"Liquor? I can get liquor anywhere, even if right now I have to wait for it."

Giving another of her throaty laughs, the kind that tricked people into thinking she cared what they thought and felt, Mineko replied, "Naoki-chan, this is just the symbol of what I'm giving you: booze whenever you want. No more having to worry about Mother scaring the servants into hiding it all from you."

They might all think him a complete, drunken fool, but that was their mistake: he was mostly a drunken fool. If he was one entirely, he'd already be dead.

If there was one thing he knew how to do well, it was keep his mouth shut. So he touched his tongue to his top lip and said, "What else? If I have to be sticking my tongue in her cunt every night and pretending I enjoy it, I'd better be getting more than the alcohol I can get for myself most of the time."

Reclaiming her sigaro, Mineko returned to her seat, the very image of indolent luxury—and a habu hiding in plain sight. "I give you all the booze you want to live in whatever dull little fantasy world it takes you to. I keep that malmignatta from killing you." Her eyes gleamed, the brown, rusty color of dried blood. "Once she's dropped a couple of whelps, and I have what I want from her family, I'll see to it you're left a happily grieving widower."

Naoki honestly didn't care. Either the spider would kill him, the snake would kill first the spider and then him, or he'd die in the fight between them. Easier to agree and get a few moments peace than waste time and energy resisting the inevitable. "Fine." He strode up to the desk and snatched up the bottle of Golden Lily saké she'd set on the desk. One of the finest sakés on the market, with a price tag that even Naoki occasionally winced at, given the pace at which he generally consumed alcohol. Golden Lily was milled down to fifty percent, undiluted, and only fifty bottles of it were produced a year. It was marvelous and a secret favorite, but he seldom let such a fine drink go to waste on him.

As ever, his sister knew exactly how and where to hit. "Mother won't be pleased with you."

"I can handle mother," Mineko replied, watching him like the feeble prey he was. "So we have a bargain."

Naoki opened the bottle, took a swallow, and then lifted it in the air. "We have a bargain, eldest sister."

"Good. Then go prepare to woo the bride you've been avoiding until now."

Giving the bottle another slight lift in acknowledgement, Naoki turned and headed off back to his room, leisurely drinking saké the whole time.

Upon his arrival, however, it was to be greeted with his younger sister and a small selection of servants.

Haru looked at him in disappointment. "Really, Naoki? Where did you even get that?"

"Mineko wanted to make a bargain."

The disappointment turned to sympathy laced with fear. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not," Naoki replied, and took a swig of saké. "I suppose it's time?"

"Mother bid me help you dress. Ferro-donni will be here in the next couple of hours."

"Right." He sighed, took a last generous swallow of saké before reluctantly setting the bottle aside. "Let's get this over with then."

Haru rolled her eyes. "Yes, such a burden to be marrying into the only family as powerful as ours—one with imperial ties—and ending a feud that's had both our families in deep trouble for generations."

"I hope you know that honored stepmother will not settle for less than an imperial principe for you. Have fun being shunted off to the continent for the glory of Ishikawa Izumi."

"Enough," Haru said with uncharacteristic sharpness. "Get undressed, Naoki. It's going to take at least an hour to get you ready."

Stifling a groan, Naoki obeyed, stripping out of his yukata and its accoutrements—even his undergarments, changing them out for the special ones that had to go under the five hundred stones of fabric he'd soon be wearing.

The costume for the actual wedding was even worse.

Thankfully the undergarments were made of fine cotton, nice and breathable. Next came clingy leggings made of finest linen in a blue so dark it was nearly black. After that went an undertunic of a blue a couple of shades lighter than the leggings. It fell nearly to the floor and was slit up the sides to just a few finger-widths short of the hips.

Then came a short, open undertunic that was belted around the waist with strips of plain silk. It was a silvery gray in color, sleeveless and only falling to just past the waist.

Over that went the secondary tunic, a lighter shade of blue than the first undertunic. It was also slit up each side, all the way to the hips, and cut so that the undertunic was visible. This one also had strips of ribbon along each cut side, so that they could be tied together in intricate knots, the highest ones near his hips also strung with charms for prosperity and fertility. Over it, to bring everything together, was a wide, heavy sash made of silk, dyed in various shades of blue and embroidered with lilies in white and silver thread.

Next went the primary tunic, padded along the hem and meant to hang open. It was the palest blue of all, painted with rippling waves and embroidered with seahorses and other creatures associated with masculinity, fortune, and so on. At his chest, the hem was embroidered with his family crest and that of Verona.

And finally, made from a silk the very blue of the sea in the morning, soft and fine and in certain light almost more purple than blue, was a beautiful drape for his neck, embroidered with the crest of the stregoni dell'acqua and pinned in place with a delicate seashell made of silver and mother of pearl.

The whole mess was accented with strings of pearls around his sash; diamonds, sapphires, and blue topaz for his ears, throat, and wrists, with all manner of charms for everything from luck to prowess attached to the sash, his hair, and affixed to his stregoni drape.

He was already hot, and he'd only been wearing the ensemble for five minutes.

Haru sighed and smiled as she fussed with his hair, which had been swept up into a complicated knot, pinned and pasted to death so it would not move for at least two years. "You're so beautiful, Naoki."

The words hurt. "It's kind of you to say so, little sister."

"You are," she replied. "Why do you listen to Mother?"

"I haven't listened to that woman since I grew too big for her to beat. It's called a mirror. But if I at least look suitable enough for a betrothal ball, leave me to my suffering and saké and go get dressed yourself. Dōmo for the help."

Haru sighed and kissed his cheek, then stepped out of the way so the servants could add scented powders and perfumes. "All I did was make certain you stood still. I'll see you shortly."

When she and the servants were gone, Naoki returned to his saké, enjoying the warm, floaty buzz that had finally settled over him, softening the sharp edges of his world. Ever so much better.

He sat on a special stool a servant had left for him, so he didn't have to deal with settling all his cumbersome layers to sit on and rise from the floor, and enjoyed his garden and saké until someone finally came to fetch him.

Setting the bottle, two-thirds empty now, aside, he rose and headed off to the front hall.

The rest of his family was already gathered, his parents in beautiful green and blue kimono, his sisters in form-fitting gowns overlaid with draping tunics open on the sides clear to their knees to show off the delicately embroidered gowns. Rare to see Mineko in such feminine dress, but even she wouldn't put on her usual airs for something this important.

Izumi looked him over critically. "Who gave you booze?"

"As if I'm stupid enough to tell you," Naoki said, resigned to the backhand he'd get later for being so impertinent and rude.

"Enough," his father, Masaru cut in before Izumi could give the scathing reply poised on her lips. He gestured sharply, and Naoki dutifully took up position roughly in the center of the cluster, his slippers ill-suited to the slick, glossy wooden floor.

Haru lifted her folded fan to her lips. "Did you see the gifts that Esposito-don sent?"

"Esposito-don sent gifts?" Naoki asked, and looked to where she pointed with her fan.

Most of the betrothal gifts had already been moved to a private salon for him and Selinah to open later. Last-minute arrivals were still being moved, and among them was a stack of presents lavishly wrapped in silk cloth and gold and silver ribbon. There were also several vases of flowers, most of which would be for the mothers, an old tradition but one that was still enjoyed by those who could afford something so expensive—especially since most flowers were carefully grown in hot houses, or laboriously imported, like so much else that Verona enjoyed.

"That is kind of him," Naoki said, intrigued despite himself. They'd invited him out of gratitude for saving their lives. Such circumstances did not necessitate gift-giving; that was for the more formally invited. Even if a gift had been required, something small and simple would have been more than enough.

"I'm intrigued by this fellow," Masaru said. "The whole city is abuzz with his name. Apparently he was quite the show-off last night at some party, buying drinks and food for the whole crowd, dancing like a whore paid to mingle."

Izumi pursed her lips. "That does not sound like the sort of man I want at my son's betrothal ball. Flashy gutter trash, more like."

"He saved our lives, Mama," Haru said. "We could never be so rude as to not invite him."

Naoki dredged up what little he recalled of the matter. "His title is Esposito. That's a new title. His Imperial Majesty doesn't just go around handing those out. Flashy gutter trash or not, he impressed the emperor himself before gallivanting off here to Verona."

"Enough," Masaru said. "Here is Ferro-donni."

Tension settled heavy in Naoki's gut, a shiver racing up and down his spine.

The doors were opened, the family announced, and the first through the doors was Selinah-donna herself.

Like the rest of her family, she was ridiculously beautiful, with dark gold hair swept up into an elaborate knot strung with pearls, diamonds, and sapphires. Her eyes were a delicate blue-green, legacy of her family's imperial ties. She was also dressed in layers upon layers, from darkest blue at the base to palest blue at the top, her ensemble nearly identical to his, save she wore a gown like his sisters, and around her neck was the steel-gray drape of the stregoni di ferro.

Behind her came the rest of the notorious Ferro-donni: Acaeus, Kattalin, and their son and heir, Jarin.

"Ferro-donni, an honor to have you in our home, especially after all the strife and pain," Izumi oozed.

If Mineko were a snake and Selinah a spider, then Izumi was a bug-catcher, a nasty little plant that waited for bugs to land, then trapped them in its jaws and dissolved them slowly. The men of the families were equally brutal, but they were not nearly as efficient and artistic as the women.

Naoki stepped forward and extended his hands. Selinah placed her own in them, and they both squeezed gently but firmly. "An honor to have you here, Selinah-donna."

"Oh, now, we are to be married soon, I think you can leave off the honorifics," Selinah said with a beautiful smile that Naoki might have gladly admired had he not seen how false it was on more than one occasion. She stepped in closer than was strictly proper and gave a bold kiss to his cheek.

Part of Naoki wondered what game she was playing. The rest of him was happy to settle back into a saké-induced warmth of not caring. He kissed her cheek in turn, lingering a bare second, thumbs discreetly stroking the back of her hands. "I am honored. You must do the same."

"There," Kattalin said. "Already a fine start. You have a beautiful home, Izumi-donna."

Leaving their parents to chatter politely and hide barbs behind smiles and pretty words, Naoki folded his hands into his voluminous sleeves and tilted his head toward the back of the house. "Would you care to see the gardens?"

"That would be lovely." Selinah fell into step alongside him, and Naoki led her through the house to the gardens behind it.

She stood admiring it for several minutes, eyes flitting from flowering plants to lush trees and even the series of waterfalls that kept the primary pond churning, the water pumped in from the sea, carefully filtered so nothing untoward made its way inside and ruined the bucolic splendor of it all.

Eventually, she turned to him, pulling out her folding fan to tap against her carefully painted lips. "I'm really not interested in a useless drunk for a husband."

"Too bad for you, then," Naoki replied. "I'm not entirely useless, but I am generally drunk and always apathetic. I obey quite nicely, but that's all you'll get from me, bella-donna."

The term was one with a few edges to it. Ostensibly it simply meant 'beautiful woman' and was infrequently used to address an unknown woman of clearly nobila lineage or affectionately address an acquaintance. When the hyphen was dropped, the slight pause between the words that made it an honorific, then it simply referred to those women who were in charge of whorehouses, and was also used to refer to women convicted of murder and other terrible crimes.

She narrowed her eyes in a way he was painfully familiar with. It had long ago ceased to terrify him.

Instead, familiar resignation settled over him like a worn, smelly blanket, and Naoki drifted over to sit on a sun-warmed rock and enjoy the salty spray from the waterfalls. "Just tell me what you want."

Moving closer to him, her sticky-sweet perfume ruining the fresh air, Selinah replied, "I have ambitions, and I won't countenance you or your family getting in my way."

"I cannot speak for my family," Naoki replied. "They do as they please. I have no desire to thwart or undermine or murder you. Neither will I help you. All I want is to be left alone and well out of the path of all these family machinations. I will be a dutiful husband, and you'll not have to worry about me straying or bringing home bastard children. You'll get all the children you want, and I know my way around the bedroom. But I'll not play your games, so don't bother asking."

Her lips curled slightly in a disgust and disappointment that Naoki was as inured to as violence and threats. "Very well. Shall we go join our families for drinks before the guests start to arrive?"

He rose and bowed his head, and they walked in time back into the house, where a servant waited to escort them to their waiting families.

As the beginning of the end of a generations-long feud, it was exactly as tense and anticlimactic as Naoki had expected.