Lounging on a sleigh couch with a thick volume resting in her lap, the blond haired beauty casually flicked pages to the left after a minute or more of scanning. Cascading waist length blond hair flowed over her shoulder, loosely braided midway to the pointed end, where a bow adorned the hair tie holding the vibrant mane in place. A comfortable silence filled the common study. The pocket she currently resided boasted of forest green sleigh couch and an expensive Persian carpet. Other pockets like this one boasted similar seating arrangements and more Persian carpets. Shelves holding thousands upon thousands of books created a maze for the distracted or ignorant. None boasted the same beautiful woman leisurely enjoying an older book not having seen daylight for centuries.
Calypso looked up and smiled at one of the newly blooded servants. " Hello, Aimi-chan," She bowed her head respectfully.
Mortally killed in a car crash and only by the grace of a miracle, a samurai, on the then- hunt for a trio of Lycans that called themselves ' The Fang and Claw', raised her from the wreckage and escorted her dying body to the safety of the nearest hospital. When she flat lined, the samurai arranged for her 'body' to be turned over to one of the research companies renting space at the research building owned by the Murakami Clan. Once in the care of the morgue at the research building, her creator freed her of the temporary coffin and informed her of her new status.
Like most new bloods, Aimi couldn't stop enjoying every minute of the day until two weeks into her immortality she learned of the one fact that never changed – chronological age determined everything and held more sway than one's tongue or more intimate body parts, and in the more physically trained, their military prowess. Calypso enjoyed observing the comeuppance hit Aimi like a vicious curveball to an otherwise substantial lift in life status. In a way, everyone needed a comeuppance, and Calypso got hers every other day dealing with certain individuals that tested her tolerance, patience, and acceptance of socially unacceptable and borderline unethical actions that deserved justice.
Aimi, unlike the long lived Calypso, took advantage of the generosity bestowed upon her by her creator. Within less than a year, Aimi's creator learned first hand what it felt like to manage an unruly child. Nevertheless, with the utmost patience, Sato-kun guided her. Not intolerable, Aimi still acted like the other clan members. She walked right past the small pocket designated for readers wanting privacy without even a backward glance.
Rankled, Calypso paused mid-sentence. Smile turned into a frown as she considered the next course of action. Pursue the foolish new blood who should have at least acknowledged the greeting or remain where she was content with the history volume she'd been trying to read for the past two weeks without interruption? In the height of her frustration, she fingered the loose braid. Why did people see fit to disrespect her so much?
Was it the blond hair? The fact she wore it down in public most of the time instead of up, as tradition as dictated throughout nations throughout time? Maybe, just maybe, it had to do with the fact Daimyo Shino chose her as a child instead of a native to Japan or China or Korea?
Meh! Now she didn't even want to read. Putting the book onto the square metal stand next to the plush sleigh couch, the personal servant rose to her feet and headed for the private quarters of her creator and superior, Shino-sama. Maybe he could better advise her since she held no authority whatsoever.
Weaving her way through the pockets in the common study to main walkway, Calypso barely noticed Regent Hiro-Kun following her. " Calypso-kun," He called out.
Head whipped around and she nodded. She loathed Hiro and still afforded him the barest of respect.
" I heard you graduated from two languages to three now, Makoto-san will be most pleased," Hiro announced.
She stopped abruptly and turned her head as if it rested on a crank. " He will be, but I suspect our respected Lord will be more pleased," Moving her hands behind her back, she clasped them together and continued to eye him up suspiciously. " Who told you?"
" The test administrator," He answered simply, confused as to who she believed could have told him. " You are quite capable when you apply yourself,"
Stepping aside to allow a small group of servants to pass, the pair stood still. Calypso stared up at the head taller male with her head on a severe angle and Hiro faced her most calmly, both individuals on strange ground. Hiro needed to acknowledge her gain in knowledge, and she needed to acknowledge his respectful acknowledgment without a hint of sarcasm or disrespect. Neither liked the dilemma before them. Yet he did let one small compliment slip past his usual surliness.
Forcing a smile that resembled more of a grimace, she just nodded. " I hear you are quite fond of Mandarin yourself, but I find it to be a bit bothersome. I prefer Cantonese myself," Meaningless conversation that filled the silence comforted both individuals and emboldened Calypso. " How many languages are you fluent in, Regent? And most clan members for that matter. From the sheer lack of regard for my skills, I take they must be well educated," To be so judgmental, she mentally added, the forced smile actually turning into a genuine grimace.
" Two, and I have some experience with Taiwanese," Taller than Calypso by a head and older by four centuries, Regent Hiro gained his position as regent by faithfully serving Daimyo Shino, and occasionally Daimyo Kyosuke until the oldest, most effective samurai sacrificed himself to the sun to cleanse his name of the shame he brought upon it after two affairs came to the attention of his lover's long-time consort. Hiro, next in line to inherit the position, ascended with grace and honored the redeemed samurai in the ceremonial speech.
That was 207 years ago, well before her mortal birth.
Circling her hand in the air, the American born didn't linger long on why he didn't know more languages besides Mandarin, Japanese, and a little of Taiwanese. " And a typical member of the clan?" She pressed in a sickly sweet coo with a smug grin.
Both the Murakami and Reizei clan overwhelmingly embraced a policy of isolation. As the majority of members embraced it because they never knew another policy and disliked the watering down of the pure bloodlines throughout the mortal generations, the more practical reason for isolation rested on survival. Because of the isolationist attitude adopted by many the need to learn another language didn't really matter – unless you were in finances, management, or leadership. The bulk of the clan was not in finance or management, and leadership positions stayed consolidated within a single tier at the top of immortal society due to age requirements and coinciding requirements often glossed over.
Deciding he didn't want to provoke an easy argument, Hiro ended it before it started. " This is one point we all know you to be focused on, and you will soon eclipse us all if Our Lord has his way," He glanced around, a slight turn of his head indicating an escape plotted.
" You're right, soon I will know more languages than any other clan member, and yet what does it matter if a simple servant won't even respond to a greeting," Bowing, Calypso walked away before she let loose any of her more disgruntled thoughts. Heels digging into the carpeted stone floor as she followed the path once more to the private quarters of Daimyo Shino.
If graduating from two to three languages didn't earn her the acknowledgment of other servants, who did she have to kill to earn a little fear? Obviously 'sleeping' her way up the ladder gained no true foothold for her, although if Makoto ever heard her repeat those words, he might make her divulge who spoke of a matter they knew nothing about. He chose her, she didn't him.
No matter how many times he declared this in an obvious possessive, overconfident manner, she failed to become enraged. She adored Makoto too much. It didn't hurt that as a respected samurai, his word held weight. Sadly not even the weight of his words dispelled the theories for why he declared what he declared. She bewitched him, many said. In truth, he bewitched her. She never stood a chance at deflecting his charms. As one of few who accepted her as she was, along with Daimyo Shino and Kyosuke, Makoto unwittingly earned her undying loyalty and concern.
" Calypso-san!" Hiro called after her.
She kept walking. If a servant refused to acknowledge her, she refused to humor Hiro.
In retrospect, she should have stopped and listened to him. In retrospect, it might have benefitted them both.