Page 166 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
His son muttered and moped, but his ears and tail slowly lifted. And he finally made eye contact with Tsumiko. “Need anything?” he quietly asked.
“How’s Kyrie?”
“Little bro is fine. I’ll keep him with me tonight, so ….”
“That will do.” Without giving Gingko time to finish, Argent showed her the door to a tidy little water closet. “I will negotiate a schedule for visits from our sons while you refresh yourself.”
His longsuffering manner didn’t diminish her gratitude. Although his wording made her wonder just how long he planned to keep her here.
By the time she reemerged, Gingko was gone and a small feast was spread on a plank table. Argent gestured to the array with a flourish. “All the comforts of home.”
“Wearehome.” She smothered a smile. “Did you have to chase off Gingko?”
“If Imustcompete with my sons for your attention, then I will win.” He pulled a square stool into position for her, choosing an upturned bucket for himself. “We agreed upon times for covert familial interruptions.”
They lingered over the evening meal, the sun setting while Argent told a convoluted tale about the cleverness of foxes, who were said to be the first Amaranthine to remember their way back into human form. “This made us much sought after by other clans, who traded on their splendor and power for the secret. And landed foxes with a largely erroneous reputation as matchmakers.”
Tsumiko had to laugh at Argent’s expression of disdain. She asked, “How much of that was actually true?”
“Oral histories are prone to embellishment, especially when one’s grandfather has been at the star wine.”
“That legend was about your grandfather?”
“My maternal grandfather. And there is probably some truth amidst his little exaggerations. Mother confirmed that he was always an avid matchmaker, with a special fondness for taboo relationships.”
“Are matches between our races considered wrong?”
“Unusual, certainly, but not unknown.” Argent said, “Amaranthine do not choose bondmates from outside their own kind. But to hear my grandfather tell it, he is singlehandedly responsible for winged horses, gryphons, and some obscure creature known as a jackalope.”
They left the table, and Tsumiko brought out the comb.
With a soft rumble of acceptance, Argent drew her to a different spot in the garden, where a bench tucked under an arbor. Their arrival caused another small stir among the nocturnal Ephemera. They circled ever closer while she attended to his second tail.
Argent told her their name of each type and a little about how his collection started. Their hushed conversation gave new shape to the intimacy. Calm. Quiet. Tsumiko was certain that the contentment of this closeness was the feeling she would always associate with home.
Starlight wasn’t much for human eyes to see by. Argent lifted a hand, and several of the crystals Tsumiko had spied earlier lit up, illuminating the conservatory with a soft wash of pastel colors. And for her next lesson in foxish courtship, he taught her the steps to a traditional dance. The patterns were complex, but the pace only strolled. Argent guided each press of palms and pivot, humming lightly under his breath. With his coaching, she could—mostly—keep up. Circling and skipping. Linked arms and matched strides. Hops and twirling flourishes.
She was having fun.
And judging by Argent’s soft expression, so was he.
It didn’t take long for Tsumiko to come to the conclusion that courting games were usually excuses to kiss. Similarly, most courting gifts held traditional meanings that ranged from sweet to salacious.
The moon was high overhead when Argent perched sedately on a stone pedestal that allowed his tails to sway temptingly into reach.
“Which one?” she asked.
Argent flicked the tip of one tail along her arm. “The last.”
“Best for last?” she asked lightly.
“You are.”
Feeling rather daring, Tsumiko mingled combing with tending.
Claws scraped stone as Argent steadied himself, but his posture gradually shifted. Back arched, arms braced, head thrown back, he fairly vibrated under her touch.
When Tsumiko quietly declared the tail finished, he seemed to melt off his seat, sliding to the grass and sinking all the way to his knees. Arms around her waist, he hid his face against his midriff and mumbled something.
