Page 55 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
“He did.”
Tsumiko closed her eyes against the threat of tears. Even after long hours, Argent seemed wholly unaffected, and she envied the cool sophistication with which he’d handled each transition along the journey. “How can you bear sitting still for so long?”
“I have not taken a step forward in more than a millennia.WhereI stagnate matters little.”
She plucked at the rosy silk of her kimono sleeve. Before their private jet had landed, Argent had unpacked the costume that would be the Uppington Smythes’ first impression of her. Four layers, each more exquisite than the last, an elaborately knotted sash, and the traditional white socks suited to wooden sandals—she hardly dared to move lest she spoil her finery.
“What time is it?” Tsumiko asked.
“Nearly four in the morning.”
“I’m so tired,” she whispered. “Aren’t you?”
He finally looked at her then. Not past her, not through her, but straight into her eyes. And that acknowledgement was such a relief. With the barest brush of fingertips, she touched his arm. “Does it still hurt?”
Argent wavered toward her. “Does it show?”
“No.”
“Good.” He spared a glance at the partition that hid the Smythes’ chauffeur from view, then slid over, easing his arm around her shoulders. “Tend to me while you rest. This is a long drive.”
She leaned carefully into Argent’s side, her cheek resting against the stiff material of his suit. Not as nice as the soft folds of his reaver tunic, but welcome nonetheless. He was the one familiar thing in the vast strangeness of a wider world; the way she felt now, she was quite prepared to cling to him.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered.
“I have little choice.”
Oh, but he did. Not in where he was, of course, but in how he treated her. Tsumiko didn’t particularly like being at the mercy of someone whose moods passed like storms.
Fingers tucked under her chin, lifting her face. “Make me a promise,” Argent ordered.
“What?”
“If anyone in the household asks to borrow me, refuse.”
“If I did ask you to help someone, would the bond force you to obey them?”
“Yes.”
“What would they make you do?”
“I shudder to think.”
“Has it happened before?”
Argent’s nostrils flared. “It has.”
Tsumiko latched onto his sleeve. “Stay with me?”
“If you insist.”
“I don’t want to order you around,” she protested.
“Yet you have.”
“At your request.” Tsumiko rested her aching head against his chest and closed her eyes. “You know, this whole trip would probably go more smoothly if you’re the one telling me what to do.”
“If that is your wish, I can only obey.”
