Page 44 of Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal
Prospect slid the front panel open, poking his head through to peer around. “You can duck inside if you need the shelter.” He scanned the heavy clouds and hummed vaguely. “Shouldn’t be much longer.”
When he left, Kimiko gave in to curiosity, but there wasn’t much in the pavilion’s outer room—tatami mats on the floor, a single chest, and a low table with a neat stack of school books at its center. Sliding screens barred the view into inner rooms, and she refused to snoop any further. Mother would have. All the more reason not to, as far as Kimiko was concerned.
So she slid the door closed and rejoined Rise on the porch. “May I sit with you?”
With the Kith at her back and Ever in her lap, she’d be warm enough for a while.
The boy renewed his line of inquiry about her baggage. “What dose?”
“Do you know about the Star Festival?”
Ever’s ears pricked forward, quavering. “Fessval?” he asked.
“Everyone in Keishi loves the story of the Star Festival.” Encouraged by his eager expression, she offered a highly abridged version. “Reavers remember a long-ago day when a beautiful girl with the brightest soul called down the stars from the sky.”
“Talk to stars?”
“That’s how the story goes. Some say they were angels. Some say they must have been sky clansmen.”
“Manthine?”
“Yes, from the clan of the sky.” She knew these stories from her grandfather, and it was fun to share them. “Have you learned any stories about imps?”
“Dun know dem.” He rubbed his nose against her chin. “Story?”
“Imps are the impressions of old.” Kimiko adopted the sing-song tone that had been such a big part of her childhood. “The star clans belong to one of the four lost peoples—sky, sea, mountain, and tree.”
Ever’s wide eyes shifted to the surrounding woods. “Manthine trees?”
“They’re my favorite in the stories, so I know lots of things about trees. But this is the Star Festival.” Reaching for the bag, she explained, “Gifts are one of the traditions; we give starry gifts. And we wish upon the stars. Best of all, we share starry sweets. See?”
And she lifted the topmost box’s lid, revealing an array of star-shaped fruit jellies and molded candies, some sparkling with sugar, others studded with nuts. The second box held chocolate wafers, and the third a honeyed cake, rich with butter and liberally flecked with orange zest.
“I brought these for Eloquence so he wouldn’t miss out.”
Ever tapped the edge of the box. “Trade wiff me?”
“I’m sure your brother would share,” she ventured.
“Him dun like sweet stuffs.”
Kimiko innocently asked, “But you do?”
The boy tangled his fingers together and shyly admitted, “I does.”
“Then I’m sure we can work something out.”
“Right back!” And the boy disappeared around the corner.
With a soft grunt, the Kith rose to follow.
“I don’t want to get him into trouble,” whispered Kimiko.
Rise turned back long enough to nose her chest and lick her cheek, then ambled away. Five minutes passed into seven before the boy came skulking back, carrying a bundle in both hands.
She asked, “What do you have there?”
“Better stars.” Ever offered it very properly on both palms. “Stars for Bruvver. You make him happy?”
