Page 95 of Kimiko and the Accidental Proposal
“Reasons.”
She was already there. He’d made her wait.
Dismissing his apologies, Kimiko announced, “I won’t be in class tomorrow, so I need to explain everything now.”
Quen sank to the straw between Edge and Flay, pulling her down to his side. “Is anything wrong?”
She shook her head. “Mama seems to think we need all day to fancy up. She’ll probably attack my cuticles and smear mud on my face and pluck things. I swear, if she goes after my eyebrows, I will lock myself in the archive.”
Eloquence considered Kimiko’s face with careful neutrality. “Our courtship will involve … eyebrows?”
“Not if I have any say in the matter. Never mind that part.” She waved this aside—even though she’d brought up the entire matter—and frowned in concentration. “I wanted to talk about the courting tradition I chose, so you know what to expect.”
“Please,” he urged.
Kimiko rubbed at the side of her face, as if to discourage the color rising there. “I wanted something that made sense forme, but I also wanted something that would please you. And so far the only thing you’ve asked for is ….”
He had no trouble recalling his plea for a taste. “Kissesaretraditional.”
“Exactly. And for me,treesare traditional. In my family, special occasions have always taken place under our shrine’s tree.” With a shy glance, she said, “I’m going to borrow from the tale, ‘The Wolf and the Moon Maiden,’ a love story involving an Amaranthine and an Impression. To prove his devotion, they complete something called the Cycle of Moons.”
Eloquence was already nodding. This was familiar territory for him, since Uncle Karoo-ren had faithfully taught him the wolf lore of the Ambervelte pack, his mother’s people. “Twelve pledges sealed by twelve kisses.”
Her hand found his. “Is it a good idea?”
“Certainly. You’ve found a way to combine your family’s traditions with my people’s lore. I’m willing, and Father will undoubtedly be pleased.” Quen only saw one potential problem. “Do you wish to change locations, so that the feast takes place under your chosen tree?”
Kimiko grimaced. “Better not. Mama is both stir-crazy and starstruck. She’s looking forward to visiting your home.”
“Dinner for all at the Starmark compound, with your declaration of intent before a smaller group at Kikusawa Shrine afterward.”
“Unless it’s too much trouble …?”
Quen smiled. “Make your wishes known to your go-between, and I’ll do the same. Between them, Twineshaft and Farroost will take care of everything.”
“Oh, of course. Yes. That’s a good idea.” She laughed a little, seemingly at herself, and said, “That just leaves one other detail.”
“Can I help?” He was having trouble assigning a meaning to the shifts in her scent. They hadn’t spent enough time together. Should he suggest more interaction, or would that create new problems in the form of public scrutiny?
Kimiko faced him squarely. “I have a question, and while everyone has been more than helpful, this is something I’d rather deal with in private.”
“As you like, Kimiko.”
She muttered, “This is embarrassing. And I’m nervous.”
Quen’s impulse was to get closer, but he kept still. “I appreciate your trust.”
She gave in with a flurry of small gestures, mingling apologies with pleas for patience. “I know how to carry myself innormalconversations with Amaranthine from just about any clan. Which means I know enough to know that I don’t know enough.”
“About …?”
Kimiko closed her eyes and continued. “When it comes to Amaranthine culture, a kiss can mean many different things—greeting, apology, gratitude, submission. Requests, pledges, claims. It’s all in the nuance.”
He could see where this was headed.
“And that nuance is all in the context, posture, delivery, duration.” She was watching him through her lashes. “I’m going to kiss you in front of an audience, and most of them are going to be searching for meanings. Will you please help me? I don’t want any trace of embarrassment or caution or fear to color what should be a glad moment.”
Kimiko was right. This was important. Quen elbowed Edge, who liked her list and was cheerfully expounding on the themes of posture, delivery, and duration. “I’m willing.”
