Page 34 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
Taking courage from the woman’s faint smile, which hinted at understanding, she started over. “Idowant to make changes. Would you mind if we dropped some of these Western customs? Aren’t there reaver ways that would be more comfortable?” Looking to Sansa, she added, “You dress differently when you’re patrolling.”
“If I’m not mistaken, miss.Tsumiko,” Michael amended. “The school where you were raised holds to Western ways.”
She nodded. How could she explain something she only half understood. This wasn’t about architecture, wardrobes, or culture. “Part of me belongs to Saint Midori’s, and part of me belongs to my homeland. But the only reason I’mhereis because there’s a part of me that belongs to your world. You’re reavers.”
“As are you,” Michael reminded. “And we’ll gladly teach you more about what that means.”
Argent made an impatient sound. “Lessons in technique and etiquette have always been on the agenda. My lady is wandering off topic.”
“You have not finished your meal.” Sansa moved to the cupboard. “I will set another place.”
“Yes, by all means.” Michael pulled out a chair. “Join us.”
“Andthereis the crux,” Argent said pointedly, guiding her to a seat.
“Joining?” echoed Michael. “Or … us?”
Tsumiko kept her eyes firmly on the table, uneasy and embarrassed.
Argent sighed in a put-upon manner and took charge, quietly setting out the remainder of the meal and leaving Tsumiko to Sansa.
The woman eased into the chair beside hers and gently said, “You speak of belonging. Is that what you want?”
Awash in relief, Tsumiko mumbled, “If it’s no trouble.”
“So that’s it!” Michael chuckled. “She reminds me of Isla.”
“Who?”
“Our second daughter.” Sansa tugged Tsumiko into a crooked embrace and kissed the top of her head. “A child forever afraid to ask for what has always been hers.”
Taking the seat beside Michael, Argent served Sansa. “Take her in and raise her well. Dote on her as another daughter, but I will thank you to leave me out of the proceedings.”
“And betray your very nature?” Michael reached for bread and butter. “Foxesseekcompanionship.”
Argent’s jaw tightened. “Do not speak lightly of betrayal, boy. You may yet learn its bite.”
TWENTY ONE
Lovelorn
Later that night, a perfunctory knock on Tsumiko’s bedroom door announced Argent’s entrance. He wasted no time in crossing to her usual chair, where he dropped to one knee, stiff and silent.
Setting aside her book, Tsumiko asked, “Is that how Amaranthine normally dress?”
“Hardly. But reaver garb will do until I can secure something more fitting.” Argent smoothed his hand over a tunic that looked a little too big. Soft cloth fell in dark folds to his hips, and sheathed blades hung from the belt at his waist. Bare feet flexed against the plush rug, as if savoring their newfound freedom. He averted his gaze at her silent appraisal. “I am borrowing Michael’s, provided you have no objections.”
“You can wear whatever you want, Argent.” When he accepted this with a curt nod, she asked, “Is it a little better? I mean, do you feel more like yourself now?”
“Myself?” Argent snorted. “I am new with each binding, for each mistress defines me according to her whim.Thisis yours.”
“Then who are youreally?”
“I have forgotten,” he said dully.
Given how many centuries Argent’s enslavement had endured, maybe it was the truth. But Tsumiko couldn’t imagine forgetting herself entirely. Roles could be picked up and set aside, but weren’t one’s self and soul inviolate?
She asked, “What have you been?”
