Page 64 of Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal
His father’s eyes widened, and he actually swore and pulled him into a snug embrace. “Maker have mercy! This will be complicated enough without involving my sire. No, I chose Twineshaft.”
Quen knew his father was within his rights to hold Kimiko to a high standard. Even so, there were so many expectations heaped on a suitor. “Kimiko is human. What if she decides that courtship is too complicated?”
Dad frowned. “Don’t cheapen yourself simply because you’re afraid of losing something that might not be worth having.”
He was already growling over the implied insult to Kimiko.
But his father flicked his nose. “Watch your tone. All of your sisters know what I require in a suitor.”
“I’m yourson.”
“And of inestimable value to me. So hear me out.” Harmonious held him at arms’ length and gravely said, “It’s only natural to wonder if your suitor will care as much as you already do. Or to fear that they are your only chance at happiness.”
Quen didn’t appreciate being given a speech that was surely meant for a daughter of the pack, but he couldn’t exactly deny that he’d entertained similar thoughts.
“Courtship raises questions so they may be answered. And a good suitor puts to rest every fear, making room for trust, affection, and commitment.” Harmonious quietly added, “Your mother—my Aurora—used to say, ‘Hold your suitor to the highest standard, and they will rise to meet you.’ Kimiko must prove her worth without compromising yours.”
Eloquence wasn’t able to have a private word with Kimiko before class, but her gaze was steady, her posture confident, and her partners rallying close on either side. He tried a simple signal—meet me later.
Thankfully, she caught on. The tilt of her chin was favorable, and she murmured, “Yes, please. Weneedto talk.”
Only the phoenix overheard. Suuzu’s gaze slanted his way—open, interested. Quen was quite sure he knew, and it was embarrassing how vulnerable he felt. But the young phoenix’s head tilted in a birdish sort of acknowledgment. Almost deferential. His uncertainty must have been plain on his face, for Suuzu lifted his brows and repeated his earlier gesture—meet me later.
A sensible suggestion.
Kimiko looked between them, her eyes bright with understanding. “Suuzu’s already proving himself a fine go-between. Where and when?”
The phoenix was her intermediary? “After classes, please. In the Kith shelter with Edge and Flay.”
Suuzu bent to relay his message into Kimiko’s ear, and she accepted with thanks.
All very promising, despite the cat having put in a paw. Kimiko’s calm put Quen a little more at ease, but he couldn’t really focus on Ms. Reeves, whose morning lecture began with the historical basis for the practice of tending. A much-abridged, Emergence-validating version that emphasized the beauty of trust and the strength found in cooperation.
Quen knew this version well enough, since it was part of his heritage. Glint Starmark, First of Dogs, had formed an alliance with early reavers—before they even came to be known by that name—becoming a co-founder of the In-between.
His grandsire had bucked the tradition of that earlier era, in which reavers were considered fair game. A piece of history that would have made for bad publicity, especially in places like America, where the peace process had a glossy enough coat, but the underfur was all snarls and burrs.
“Some clans are conscientious abstainers,” Ms. Reeves was saying. “And some introduce a reaver’s tending as the final rite of passage into adulthood. Amaranthine living in cooperatives, where they come into casual contact with reavers, have benefited from the proximity.”
“A sort of secondhand tending?” asked Sosuke.
Ms. Reeves hesitated. “How would you describe it, Hanoo?”
The wolf stood. “Tending is too intentional to splash around, affecting others. But having reavers at home definitely makes for a certain … atmosphere.”
“Heady,” agreed Yoota.
Ploom nodded. “Homey.”
Hanoo’s tail swayed to a quicker tempo. “Some of it’s the kids. Little reavers don’t understand output, and they can send the whole pack into a whirl. Especially if they’re stunners like Isla.”
Attention flickered in Isla’s direction, and she pushed back her chair. “That’s one reason high-ranking children are transferred so quickly into academies like Ingress. Lessons in self-possession begin very early.” She lifted her arms, showing off bangles etched with interlocking sigils. “These wards are as much for your protection as mine. While I don’t exactly splash around, my emotions still mess with my control. Sometimes.” At this, she wrinkled her nose. “Sensei and Papka arestrict.”
“For good reason,” said Ms. Reeves. “All tending is regulated, for the protection of both parties. If a reaver were to have the whole of their essence drained during a tending, death would result. And the Amaranthine are similarly vulnerable when faced by those with potent souls.”
Hanoo signaled his wish to speak, and Ms. Reeves seemed pleased to hear his perspective.
“So it’s definitely exciting when there’s little ones underfoot, but some of it depends on the purpose of the enclave. Because some classes of reavers are seriously splashy. Their work areas have to be warded, but it changes the air. Like the scent of cinnamon stealing out of a closed oven or the tang of electricity that tells you there’s a lightning bolt building in the clouds overhead.”
