Flashbulbs

 

As the single peal of the shrine’s bell began to fade, Eloquence took a deep breath and stepped out from behind a shimmering privacy screen, doing his best not to flinch at the sudden explosion of flashbulbs. With quiet deliberation, he moved along the petal-strewn path that curved along the edge of the audience before eventually returning him to the relative privacy of the silken tent at Kusunoki’s base.

The ceremony hadn’t truly begun yet, and the gathered crowd kept up a steady buzz. He’d made this circuit twice already. Not until the fourth would Kimiko appear to “catch” him and lead him to the low dais prepared for the pledge.

At the point nearest the main gate, broadcast booths lined the central walkway, where festival booths were normally arranged. Quen could hear interviews underway in several languages.

“ … switching over to Reaver Lin Waller, who can explain for us the distinctions between the wolf and dog …”

“ … delighted to be speaking with Merit Starmark, another of Harmonious’ sons …”

“ … that the bridal circuit is a wolvish tradition, meant to emulate the moon’s path …”

“ … understandable comparisons to a royal wedding. But the Amaranthine don’t have …”

“ … to be cast in the role of suitor, which has endeared Kimiko to …”

“ … not a wedding, per se. Her spokesperson Suuzu Farroost confirms a three-year courtship, culminating …”

Three years. Eloquence lifted his face into the gentle drift of petals. Kusunoki had indeed bloomed, shocking them all with a profusion of tiny red flowers.

Shutters clicked on every side, and Eloquence realized he’d been smiling. Fodder for the surprising number of fans Kimiko’s courtship had already gained. Her popularity was on the rise, and Hisoka couldn’t have been more pleased.

The howl of trackers had been recast as the celebration of dogs.

The rogue had fled before the saint’s fury, an unsolved mystery.

The shrine now served as an international stage, with Kimiko in the lead role.

Quen knew she could handle herself, but he would feel better once he could see her again. Kimiko was off with Laud and Ever, who’d wanted to see the dragons at the front gate. Surely they’d return soon. He hadn’t seen her since changing into today’s costume, and he was … self-conscious.

Kimiko’s intentions for her next pledge—and the placement of its attendant kiss—had come by messenger, setting off an excited din in the Starmark compound. At Hisoka Twineshaft’s suggestion, Harmonious had opened up an entire wing of one pavilion to a team of designers, seamstresses, and tailors so that his maiden son could carry the pride of his clan in fine style.

The cut of today’s ensemble was unusual for a dog. Clothing was one of the small ways in which they’d set themselves apart from their wolvish relations. Where the wolf packs ran barefoot, the dog clans wore boots. And while wolves thought nothing of showing skin, dogs held to a tradition of modesty.

Over gathered pants, patterned scarves bound Quen from hip to midriff, and an open vest left his chest bare. To give Kimiko access.

He completed his circuit and hid in the warded tent. His future bondmate might flourish in the limelight, but he liked nothing better than to steal away with her and coax for time and talk and casual touches.

Rise greeted him with a soft whine. You are anxious.

“I want to make a good impression.”

She will be pleased.

Eloquence leaned into Rise and mumbled, “That would make me happy.”

Be happy.

The Kith’s head swiveled, ears lifting. Moments later, Kimiko burst into the tent, all smiles. “This worked perfectly!” she exclaimed, showing off one of the clay seals Goh-sensei had fired for them. “No one even noticed us. We probably could have tickled Sinder’s whiskers and gotten away with it!”

Whether it was meant as a show of strength, a sign of good fortune, or a plain old publicity stunt, Lapis and Sinder had taken up positions on either side of Kikusawa’s stairs. In true form.

“Bruvver, hims a green dragon. Not like Laps.”

Quen went to pick up his little representative, but Uncle Laud intervened, settling the boy on his broad shoulders. They were all under orders not to besmirch their finery. Laud quietly said, “You two should practice.”

Kimiko’s lips twitched. “That’s usually Rise’s line.”

Rise wuffed.

Laud wrapped his hands around Ever’s ankles. “What do you think, pup?”

“Bruvver likes kisses.”

Eloquence wasn’t about to pass up a chance to kiss Kimiko. “I am willing.”

Her expression softened. “So am I.” 

He awaited her touch, trying not to think too hard about where this kiss would land. He was learning Kimiko’s ways—fond and flirtatious, always coaxing for a smile. She took hold of his braid, wrapping it around her hand in order to draw him close enough to deliver a small peck on the tip of his nose.

This gambit earned the pup’s appreciative applause.

Quen asked, “What do you think, Ever? Was that a good kiss?”

“Silly!”

“You don’t think courtship can be silly?” asked Kimiko.

The little boy shook his head. “Bruvver’s growed up.”

Eloquence said, “I think I should be allowed to have fun, even when I’m grown.”

“Bruvver’s growed up,” insisted Ever. “Tained and troved.”

“But I’m still your Quen.”

Ever took interest in the decoration on the front of his tunic. In a small voice, he said, “Quen is for Kimi.”

This time, when he reached for his little brother, Laud yielded.

Quen lifted him high, swung him low, and tickled the pup until he gasped and squirmed. Only when the wag was back in Ever’s tail did Eloquence firmly state, “I have reached my attainment, and I am betrothed. And I am still your Quen.”

“My bruvver.” And more cautiously, “My Quen?”

It was the first time the boy had called him by name, and it seemed both a gift and a promise. His pup would always need him, even if the ways changed. “Always and ever,” Eloquence promised.

Ever took hold of Eloquence’s braid with both hands and pulled. When Quen leaned in, his brother kissed his nose. “Luff you, Quen.”
 

Just before Eloquence was to leave the tent for his final circuit of the courtyard, he stood with Kimiko, shoulder to shoulder, hands clasped. All his senses told him she was pleased and present, embracing the noise and the excitement. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

“Savoring the moment.” Kimiko rubbed the side of her face. “And wondering if Junzi will release a special line of chocolate bars to celebrate our wedding.”

He chuckled.

“And another thing.” Her sidelong look had a speculative quality. Crooking her fingers to bring him nearer, she whispered in his ear. “I’ve been wanting to ask, and I seem to have you to myself for the moment.”

“For the moment,” he agreed.

“If my pledges are supposed to lead into increasingly intimate territory, where is my final kiss supposed to land?”

Quen managed to answer evenly. “My blaze.”

Kimiko’s fingers settled on his bare chest. “And where do you keep that?”

His heart had begun to hammer. “I’m sure you’ll find it if you look hard enough.”

“Would the uncovering of blazes count as courting behavior?”

“Definitely.” And while they were near enough to the matter, he said, “I have also been wondering. The placement of today’s kiss … who chose it?”

“I did.”

Kimiko’s message had asked him to prepare for a kiss upon his chest, right over his heart.

Eloquence chose his words with care, not wanting to presume. “Traditionally, that placement carries a certain significance.”

Her whole posture was confident confirmation. “Like a pudding please.”

That wasn’t quite what he expected. “In what sense.”

“With a kiss here.” Once again, her fingers rested lightly on his skin. “The suitor makes a rather brazen request. Not for concessions or connections, peace or promises. But for a place in their beloved’s affections.”

Quen covered her hand. “Are you quoting lore when you call me beloved?”

Kimiko turned the question around on him. “Is it true, what the fables say about wolves and kisses?”

“I’m not a wolf.”

“I still think we could put tradition to the test.” Her posture relaxed into one of easy camaraderie. “In a few more minutes, you’ll go, and I’ll follow. And once I catch you, the whole world will hear my pledge. But you are the only one who’ll feel my touch.”

Anticipation stirred him into a more dominant stance.

“And according to wolvish tradition, a kiss can’t lie.” Kimiko reached up to pluck tiny red petals from his hair. “So when I do, you’ll know the truth.”

With an impatient growl, he pressed his forehead to hers. “Don’t make me wait, Kimiko.”

Her lips were light and didn’t linger, but they told the truth. And finding himself cherished, Eloquence Starmark found he couldn’t speak. So he bandied about some of the gestures she dearly loved, ones used by courting canines—may the stars find us trysting, a kiss for every flower, rise and I will follow, and a subtle cue that simply meant, more, yes, more.

Kimiko not only followed his little demonstration, she responded in a similar vein—share my flight, your beauty rivals the dawning, my heart is at full gallop, and a return of his own plea, more, yes, more.

He chuckled.

She beamed.

The bell tolled, and as its note reverberated, Kimiko caught his sleeve. “Go, so I can follow.”

Quen bowed over her hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “Come and claim your place.”