Page 81 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
“No. But I’ve always thought that you know more than you’re telling.”
Argent’s lips quirked. “I am old, and I am wily. Humans are wise to be wary of foxes.”
Perhaps in general, but she knew one fox in particular. And in the most intimate of ways. She knew the touch of his soul, the ache of his need, the wildness of a nature so different from her own. Yet they’d been fitted together, knit and joined. Tsumiko reclaimed her tea. “I trust you.”
His answering silence was telling. Was there such a thing as unrequited trust?
“Is it secrets you are after? I have many, though most have passed their expiration date.”
Tsumiko accepted the change in subject. “Like what?”
Argent knelt beside her chair, leaning close to whisper. “My fifth mistress craved plums despite the fact that they did not agree with her. She commanded I bring them, even though they only grew in another daimyo’s territory, guarded by tigers and dragons of impressive ferocity.”
“Forbidden fruit?”
Mischief glinted in Argent’s eyes, and Tsumiko suspected that he’d enjoyed the challenge. She said, “I hope she appreciated the risks you took for her sake.”
“Only if she remembered to specify ripe, sweet plums.” His nose wrinkled. “Even then, my only reward was her flatulence.”
Tsumiko bit her lip, trying to contain the urge to giggle. This kind of thing shouldn’t be funny.
“My seventh mistress never lost her fear for me,” he continued. “To impress her, her new husband would subdue me in her presence. The nightly beatings left him riled and her relieved. They were especially prolific.”
Her heart clenched. “Argent.”
He continued in the same careless tone. “I took especial pleasure in giving their odious brood nightmares. In fear and trembling, their only surviving daughter let the honor of my attendance pass to a cousin whose constitution was stronger. And in her, all my petty vengeances were repaid.”
His words bit the air, burning between them. And Tsumiko simplyknew. “She became Gingko’s mother?”
Teeth bared in silent ferocity.
“Did she love you?”
“She believed many lies, all of which she told herself.” His voice dropped to a growl. “Nothing could have bound me to her side but the leash you now hold.”
Tsumiko said, “You hated her, too.”
He blinked. And his gaze tripled in intensity. “No.”
“You didn’t hate her?”
“Tsk. She was vile. You are … not.”
Tsumiko touched his sleeve. “Thanks.”
A sudden uptick in noise caught their attention, and one voice in particular carried. “I don’t know what happened to them, but you know how tricky he is.” Jacques took a sing-song tone. “Argent! Guess who turned up fashionably late?”
Argent jolted to his feet, poised to run, but he first pressed a hand to Tsumiko’s shoulder. “Wait here,” he ordered. And then he was gone.
Jacques stepped into the sudden vacancy at Tsumiko’s side, all but laughing. “Knewthat would roust him out. They always got on best.”
She had no idea what he was saying, so she stood up on tiptoe, searching the crowded room for a flash of silver hair.
“There they come!” Jacques pointed toward a side entrance.
That translated just fine.
Sure enough, Argent strode their way, hauling a flustered man by the suede-patched elbow of his corduroy coat. The newcomer clutched a tissue-wrapped bouquet that bumped against his thigh with every step, scattering blue petals in his wake.
