Outside, the prolific gardens of the Nari palace winked in the growing light. The flash of a quiet water fountain drew her gaze lower. She hesitated, then stepped to the side, opened the balcony doors and, without another sound, slipped down the marble steps that led from the balcony to the garden.
The beginning of dawn tainted the edge of the sky in a soft pink light, morphing into soft tones of orange at the edges of the horizon. A deep weariness settled into Ren’s mind, one that had little to do with having had no sleep.
The moment Ren stepped off the final stair, she was surrounded with flowers. An abundance of leaves and blooms formed thick walls on either side of her, enclosing her in a tapestry of beautiful foliage. Ren noted some of the flowers’ soft pink petals were tinged with red on the tips, as if they were bloodied.
A leaf twirled gently, drifting down past her shoulder. White petals as long as her hand lay open to the dawning sunlight. Ren breathed in the peace of the gardens as she shuffled forward, eyes trailing along the curtains of ivy overhead that hid the fading stars.
Ahead of her tinkled another water fountain, its interior sculpted into a nine-tailed fox with gleaming fur and a blithe smile. Water, glistening in the pre-dawn stillness, flowed over its back and slid down its tails into the basin.
Ren let her thoughts wander past the garden, through the castle, and into the wild unknown of her future. Marriage to a stranger. No control over her destiny. Ensure protection of the Nari Clan. She let the thoughts roam, each one a lotus blossom touching the top of a pond and sending widening ripples off into the unknown.
Just when Ren felt that her head could release itself of no more thoughts, that her heart could clench no harder with lingering doubt and anxiety, a gentle sound caught her ear. She turned, glancing through drapes of dull blue petals to see Yuna.
Ren’s sister stood under an archway of twisted branches, her short red hair sticking out in the dim darkness and strangely bright in such a subdued place. Ren was about to call out, but stopped. Then she held her breath.
A masked person was standing next to Yuna. Ren could just discern the long nose on the twisted, wooden mask sticking in the air between the two. The unknown person wore a crimson robe that swathed the shoulders and chest, and fell the ground in long lines.
Ren stepped behind a hedge cut in a rectangular shape, and waited. She strained to hear, but couldn’t make out any words, just the low, quiet cadence of Yuna’s voice. She heard nothing from the stranger, who set both a roll of paper and a key in Yuna’s open and outstretched palm.
Yuna closed her fingers around them with a slow nod. The masked figure disappeared, and Yuna slipped off into the shadows.
Ren caught her breath, then followed her sister. What could Yuna have been doing at this early time?
Her curiosity was too great. She had to ask.
Yuna stepped into the covered hall that led back into the palace. By the time Ren was close enough to open her mouth to call out to her, Yuna had already disappeared around a corner.
Ren sped up, half-trotting through the darkness before she slowed. She calmed her wild strands of hair, then straightened her dress.
Yes, Yuna had disappeared, but there was really only one place for her to go….
Ren let her feet guide her to Yuna’s room. She rounded the corner just as the door to the room closed.
Acting on instinct once again, Ren knelt to peer through the door’s keyhole. She watched as Yuna set aside the key and paper into a small, intricately carved, wooden coffer.
Instead of knocking to ask her sister whom she had met in the strange mask, Ren bit her bottom lip. Oh, what she wouldn’t give to know whom Yuna had been speaking to so early in the morning.
Yuna spun around and headed into the adjacent washroom. Ren straightened, paused for two heartbeats, and then gripped the cold metal of the doorknob and twisted it. She pushed the door open.
Ren glanced around the room and, seeing no one, dashed quietly to the coffer, nearly tripping on a woven rug in her haste. Swiftly she knelt in front of the mysterious, yet beautiful wooden box.
Surely the very walls would cry out and call attention to her!
Nonetheless, Ren’s fingers had a mind of their own, and found the small metal latch that would pull upon the coffer.
“What is happening here, sweet Ren?” she asked calmly.
Ren froze, her blood turning into icicles. She was stunned, motionless, with her hand on the latch, which was now lifted half-way up.
When she glanced over her shoulder, Yuna was standing there, a coy half-smile on her face. Her eyes seemed to glimmer in the fading darkness.
“Sleep,” Ren whispered breathlessly. “I couldn’t . . . and then I was tired and . . . I meant . . .”
Her voice trailed off in confusion.
Yuna reached down, took Ren by the hand and drew her to her feet. “Of course, dear sister,” she murmured, caressing Ren’s face with the lightest touch of her fingertips. “Of course you were.”
“I’m tired,” Ren whispered. “I-I must go.”
“Sleep well, sister.”
Ren hurried out of the room, feeling Yuna’s bright and glowing eyes on her back as she fled.
Celty
Year 33th – Month of the Hare
Emissaries from the other kingdoms flooded the city like rats to a rubbish pile. The people of the Nari Clan moved with a strange, fluid kind of grace, easily sticking out in the jade city of An Wan due to their impeccable clothes and elegant hairstyles. The imperial capital of the Hiwan Clan welcomed them, lost in the joy and freedom of a royal wedding. Every day the city was abuzz with wedding-related news. Newcomers to the city. Updates on the arriving Nari caravan. And cooks at the palace, who constantly boasted over their new creations of especially decadent dishes like smoked fish, glazed fruit, and more.
Celty kept an eye on those comprising the Nari Clan, letting the gossip about them slide in and out of her mind: “No one can be that perfect and be trustworthy.” “They are entirely too clean and far too arrogant.”
From in between the bars of her cage, Celty peered out at the street celebrations even though her pen was an old thing, one barely tall enough for her to stand in. It smelled like piss and vomit from the other slaves in there with her, and all those who had been there before.
Her ragged black hair spilled into her eyes when she tried to peer out, so she batted at the strands impatiently, pulling the red-streaked locks behind her ears. The scent of fresh food filled every avenue with the heady smells of rice, dried seaweed, and smoked fish. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it.
It was always easier to forget hunger when she acted like it wasn’t even there. Besides, Goro had to feed her eventually. A shrunken, weak slave brought almost no money.
Fortunately for Goro, Celty was strong.
A woman wearing a silk wrap festooned with creamy flowers strolled by, never casting a glance her way. All the nobles were like that, Celty thought fiercely. If they didn’t see the slaves, they didn’t exist.
But the slaves bore the burden of their beautiful city on their weary backs.
Behind the woman trailed a bevy of servants carrying heavy wooden cases gilded with gems. The colored jewels sparkled in the sunlight.
Celty snarled under her breath, “Waste of wealth.”
Even the woman’s servants looked pristine, their chins tilted up as if they didn’t see the riffraff in the streets as they crossed the city. Not far away loomed the imperial palace, glimmering in the sunlight and seeming to stretch above the whole city like an ancient memory. Celty cursed that too.
“Busy out there,” murmured one slave sharing her cage, his eyes peering through the bars with unusual intelligence.
Celty studied him again, still taken aback by his rough features and strong frame. She’d been a slave ever since she could remember – the shadows of her past lay beyond her recollection. Servitude had been her life, and she’d never met a slave yet with such calculating eyes.