Page 62 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
“Notpersonally.” He eased closer, placing his hands on her knees. “Rather than trade old stories, return to your prayers.”
“Why?”
“Because I am in charge.”
She waited, for Argent’s manner was troubling. What had pulled him forward? He shouldn’tneedtending, yet he seemed prepared to beg.
Argent hesitated several more beats before muttering, “You shine. Like Soriel of the Dawning, like Auriel of the Golden Seed. Like every tale of the Kindred, the Broken, and the Blessed, you shine.”
“Who are they?”
“Heavenly visitations and heroes of yore.” His chest pressed against her knees, and impatience took the edge off his awe. “More old stories that can wait.”
Had the Amaranthine been visited by angels? Did they have promises, principles, and prophecies to guide their way of life? “Are there books?” she asked. “Would I be allowed to borrow them?”
Argent muttered, “Stingy.”
Tsumiko gently touched his hand. “Was it really so different then what usually happens when I tend you?”
His gaze never left hers as he nodded once.
“Prayer isn’t a performance, you know. I don’t think I could duplicate your experience on command.”
Argent took a slow breath, inclined his head, and left it at that. “Rather than rejoin the gadding throng, would you like to visit Percival’s and Eimi’s graves? The Smythe family plot is in the churchyard.”
“Yes, please.”
He draped a fur-trimmed cloak around her shoulders and led her out a side door. Finding the path to the cemetery plot snowed over, he carried her to spare her sandaled feet. Behind Saint George’s, under the drooping boughs of ancient cedars and spreading dogwoods, past generations of Smythes resting beneath marble headstones. Argent set down Tsumiko and stepped back, face downcast.
Was this his first time visiting Aunt Eimi’s grave? And here they stood, emptyhanded. She asked, “Did she have a favorite flower?”
“Forget-me-nots.”
“If we can find some, let’s bring them.”
“A fitting gesture.” Argent asked, “Do you pray to your ancestors?”
Was he curious? Or simply eager for more prayers? Tsumiko said, “No, but I can honor their memory. What about you? How do Amaranthine face death?”
“Rarely.” He frowned faintly at his former mistress’s grave. “Hypothetically.”
“You … don’t die?”
“I know it is possible.” His gaze turned toward the shadowy boughs overhead. “And I have felt its approach.”
Tsumiko turned to face him fully. “Argent, what’s the average lifespan of someone like you?”
Argent’s voice took on a sing-song quality. “When the stars were young and the mountains were unclimbed and whole forests stood empty, we were chosen. When humans were few and the land was divided, and the birds and beasts needed our strength, we were fruitful and multiplied.”
Familiar phrases caught her attention. “Are you alluding to Noahic promises? How oldareyou?”
“I was neither in Eden nor on the ark.” Argent teasingly added, “But you are getting closer.”
THIRTY SIX
Lady of the House
Tsumiko woke too early the following morning. She still hadn’t adjusted to the time difference, but that gave her the perfect excuse to check in on her brother.
