Page 9 of Drawn into Oblivion

She couldn’t open her eyes and wondered what new dream she’d drift into. The Divine One was leaving her.

“I won’t fail you,” she murmured. She felt herself sinking, and the warmth of the spring water spilled across her naked skin. Relaxed and content, she floated without a care.

When she woke a few hours later, alone in bed and still wearing her usual nightclothes, she was amazed to find purple lip stain smeared upon her fingertips.

Chapter Four

The morning promised a hot, humid day, but dark clouds gathered on the western horizon, a sure sign of rain. Mai paused in the doorway of the Green Room, a welcoming space for taking meals. At the moment, a couple dozen house elders and military officers were enjoying breakfast. True to its name, the sitting room’s general décor ranged from moss to forest green. Several sets of low tables and floor chairs sat symmetrically about the room, the chairs upholstered with a delicate water-lily pattern. The deep black, wood tables gleamed under a clean layer of varnish. She still found it hard to believe that most of it was centuries old.

Much of the palace’s original furniture had been found in a large storehouse just beyond the complex’s outer wall, still in pristine condition thanks to protection spells cast on it to guard against wear and tear. Mai supposed the blondie usurpers had stored it away for many reasons, first and foremost being that the furnishings were magical and therefore dangerous. But if that were the case, she wondered why they hadn’t burned it all. Perhaps the blondies had been too cowardly to attempt it.

As she hovered near the door, trying to remain unnoticed, she took in the seating arrangements. Arashi of House Storms and Hinata of House Sun sat together. They were loudly discussing the dark gray clouds blowing toward the city. Most house elders, all of them women, sat only with their season, and all preferred to sit on the right side of the room while the military officers, all men, sat on the left. The large table at the back of the room was heavily laden with food, some of which was still steaming, and Mai spotted the blond head of the empress’s brother.

Oka scooped some eggs onto the largest plate from his breakfast tray, and she smiled at how carefully he held the dish, probably scared of dropping and breaking something that would’ve been more expensive than a year’s worth of food in his previous life. The empress and her consort were absent, but they often skipped the first meal. Mai had taken another step into the room, looking for somewhere to sit, when she felt an intense heat against her back.

“Looks like the men and women prefer not to keep each other company over the morning meal,” Rosuke said next to her ear. She gasped and turned in time to watch him finish his sentence, intending to snap at him for standing too close, only to discover he stood more than an arm’s length away. Her incredibly vivid dream about him last night had apparently made her even more sensitive to his presence.

His thick hair, while not quite as long as hers was, fell over his shoulder and down to his navel in one long ponytail. His smooth, beautiful features held an amiable kindness, and the depths of his blue eyes called to her like a water spirit, lulling her to drown in them. She blushed before she could even think to stop it from happening.

But her shyness quickly morphed into anger. The way she felt when she saw him had been changing and she neither liked nor understood it. She hated the pangs of jealousy that seized her heart when another woman smiled and giggled at him, and she hated thinking she or any woman would have to act a certain way to draw someone’s attention. Most of all, she hated—absolutely loathed—how much she wanted a man’s attention—his in particular.

“The men are military and the women lead the court,” Mai retorted. “Parallel duties, but separate.” She inwardly chastised herself for her crisp tone and nettlesome response, wishing her conversational skills were friendlier. She didn’t have to be callous to him. She just couldn’t bring herself to give him even an ounce of encouragement.

His face split into an amused grin, which surprised her and made her insides coil and twist. He briefly glanced past her into the room. Her blush deepened, and she wondered whether she’d catch on fire.

“I think you are right, Elder Mai,” he concurred in a low voice. “But I wouldn’t be surprised to see couples begin to form, especially after Shumei and Vallen’s ceremony.”

Mai idly wished she were as comfortable with using the given names of the empress and the high general. Not so idly, she wished her heart hadn’t leapt when he’d alluded to relationships between high-ranking crows.

“That’s possible,” she tentatively agreed. Certain she’d become dizzy if she held his gaze any longer, she lowered her eyes. Unfortunately, doing so meant looking at his body instead, and all she could see was a phantom vision of her hands caressing the healthy swell of muscles beneath his black military uniform.

First, she’d admire the way his shirt, folded left over right, molded to his chest and waist. She’d run her palms over his broad shoulders, where the three concentric rings signifying his rank were sewn, and she’d hardly notice the full moon of the court seal embroidered above his heart. Then she’d bemoan how his shirt draped to midthigh, and she’d pull at its bright white ties so she could spread it open and see for herself how well his pants betrayed every bulge and curve of his muscular legs. He wore no shoes, as was custom inside any home—even a palace—but the sturdy, black cotton of his leggings outlined large feet that matched his long body.

“Shall we start a trend and have breakfast together, Elder Mai?” Rosuke invited, earning her gaze and attention as he gestured at an empty table behind her.

He couldn’t have surprised her more if he had pulled out a dirty knife and stabbed himself in the gut. Although eating a meal with him was a perfect opportunity to act upon both the empress and Divine One’s decree to lessen her fear of men, his suggestion provoked an anxiety she found impossible to describe. It was different from what she felt around other men, but she found it just as paralyzing.

“Good morning, Rosuke,” Oka called. Mai breathed a sigh of relief at being interrupted and turned so she could see both of them. Oka bowed his head. “Hello, Mai.”

“Morning. Can you eat all of that?” Rosuke asked, chuckling and pointing at the massive amount of food on Oka’s tray. Most of it was eggs. They seemed to be his favorite food this week.

“Of course! I’m a growing boy,” he said proudly.

“And you’ve been working hard every day,” Mai concurred. “I sometimes watch your practices with the commander here. You’re rapidly improving.”

“Come eat with me,” Oka invited, beaming. He turned to an empty table on the military side of the room. “We can talk about sword fighting.”

Rosuke followed the young boy, and his sleeve brushed her arm. Her breath caught. Can I really do this?

“Please have a seat, Elder Mai. I’ll get us both some breakfast.” He gave her an encouraging nod and headed toward the food table. She almost stopped him as an inexplicable urge to reject his offer rose, but she fisted her hands, set her jaw, and forced herself to accept his kindness.

Any thoughts of formal servants or palace staff were still a low priority, so a small group of crows and brownies with no other duties performed a few basic tasks—mostly preparing and setting out meals. Almost everyone, even those in the court, did for themselves as much as possible, from cleaning to washing clothes. After the hard life most had just left, self-subsistence remained the most comfortable setup.

Oka set his food down with great care and then gracelessly flopped into his seat. Mai sat across from him, but watched Rosuke as he prepared two trays.

“Mai?” Oka asked, forcing her to look at him. He had leaned so far over the table his shirt was in danger of touching his eggs.

“Yes?”