You're so pretty in white…pretty when you're faithful…
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Gossamer Dreams
Part 5
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"Listen to me now, little brat, you'd better not talk back when her Highness comes to see you, and you just stand straight and don't look up at her face unless she tells you, it's proper respect, you know." An old woman who had been scrubbing Kikyo clean only an hour ago was now styling her hair prettily, having already dressed the girl in a fine outfit that was made of something so smooth and soft, she had never felt fabric so wonderfully luxuriant. She thought it might be silk, but she was far too afraid to ask anyone anything. She was still waiting to have her head chopped off, and yet all they had done in the time since she'd been captured was lock her in a dungeon with only five other individuals, and then, after a few days, they had pulled her out and hustled her up into a beautifully decorated and furnished room. Kikyo secretly wondered if she was really in the Palace. She had heard something of that sort on her way up, but it seemed rather unbelievable. Why would they let a child they knew was Gifted in the Youkai Palace? It didn't make any sense, unless they cut their heads off in the Palace. Perhaps it was some sort of entertainment for the royalty here. She had read a story once where the courtiers had engaged in such tasteless entertainment, but it all seemed very foolish to her. She remembered bringing it to Miroku's attention.
"This book is silly." She had told him, dropping the heavy tome in his lap.
"Why is that, Kikyo?" he recovered from the extra weight on his legs quickly, shifting the book open as she took up her favorite position when he read to her, curled up against his legs, her head cradled against his knees as he patted her dark hair absently.
"The queen was putting people to death, and when she did, all the courtiers would show up to watch them die. They would eat and drink and have fun like it was a good time!" Kikyo explained, her lower lip sticking out petulantly. "That would never happen, would it, Miroku?"
"Why not, Kikyo?" he asked, turning through the pages to the passage she was speaking of. "Have I not told you that you are sweeter and kinder than most humans?"
"Well, it does not make sense." She tried to speak properly. "Who would want to see that happen? Someone is dying, don't they understand?"
"Perhaps that is why I love you so well." He patted her head softly, his eyes glowing in the light from the fireplace. "You understand those things that even adults forget and perhaps never learned. It is a game of fools, Kikyo, but I assure you that this world is full of fools."
"I'm glad you're not like that, Miroku." Kikyo sighed finally.
"Shall I continue the book for you, then?" he asked, his brow quirking slightly. "I'll read you to sleep…"
"Oh, now that will never do, child! Do not cry or you will become puffy and splotchy, and her Highness will send you straight back to the dungeons. Do you want to die?" the old woman was scrubbing her face furiously, and Kikyo realized belatedly that she had been crying. It must have been the idea of Miroku, her sweet brother, the person she loved most in the world. She would never see him again, she knew that now. And he would be so worried when he came back…she had sworn not to leave the house. He would be furious, if Miroku could truly become furious. She rarely saw him lose his temper, and never had he yelled at her.
"N…no." she sniffled. Not that it mattered if she wanted to die or not. It was a bit late to be asking questions like that, now that she had been caught and dragged to the Palace, surrounded in guards who would know her for what she was the moment they looked at her eyes. Surely she would be dead in a week, probably sooner than that. Unless they had planned to fatten her up and eat her…that was something a witch had tried to do to two lost children in another story she had read. It had been awful of her, but they had found her out and shoved her in her own oven before escaping together. They were a nice pair of children, and it had always been one of her favorite stories, one that Miroku had read to her at bedtime dozens of times…
"Then stop your sniffling! If the Empress likes your looks, you'll be put in the Apartment, and then you won't have another worry in the world. Why, it's better there than off in whatever ghetto you were in, scraping by for cash and such. Here, we'll treat you lovely, just like royalty if you just show you deserve it." The old woman scolded as she finished with Kikyo's hair. "Sounds nice, don't it?"
"Um…" Kikyo had never been so confused before in her life. Weren't they going to kill her? She was Gifted, after all.
"Just don't talk, and you'll be fine." The woman patted her cheeks twice and then rushed to the other room. Kikyo could hear voices, and she looked down at the outfit she was wearing. It was like the woman had been overexcited and accidentally put three dresses on her instead of just one. She could barely move, let alone breathe. Or talk. Although, the fabric was still very pretty, and the white dress underneath was so soft she felt like she could melt into it. She wondered briefly if they thought it nice to give her a pretty dress to die in. It would be a shame to bleed on the fabric, white and cream and little bits of pink flowers everywhere.
"Finally ready, is she?" the voice was probably one of the most terrifying things Kikyo had ever heard in her short life. It was a woman, but it was not a nice woman, from the sound of it. She remembered a story with an evil stepmother and imagined that she must have sounded like this. "It is past due that I take a look at the little doll-child." And then, sweeping grandly and towering over Kikyo's trembling form, a woman entered the chamber, her dress easily ten times more elaborate and fancy than the one Kikyo was wearing. The fact that she was a grown woman was utterly obvious from the way she filled the dress, her bosom jutting out prodigiously under the cover of the lacy, frilly fabric. And then her hair, what seemed like yards of wavy brown hair combed until it gleamed was arranged in a series of braided loops around a circlet that rested over her brow, and then three long trails of it were set free to tumble down, trailing past even the end of her overly lengthened dress. Kikyo wondered what was the point of having dresses and hair that long if they would only get dirty all the time, but she was well enough aware that this was a woman of great importance, and that she would do best to keep her opinions on hygiene and fashion to herself.
"There she is, your Majesty." The old woman was curtsying and walking at the same time, quite a feat, and Kikyo was frankly amazed that such an old woman could pull it off without straining herself. "Just cleaned and dressed for your viewing."
"Hmm." The scary woman closed in, and Kikyo fought the urge to run away. She then remembered what the old woman had said and turned her eyes to the floor, careful not to meet the woman's eyes. She did not want to get in any more trouble than she was already in. "Girl, do you have a name?"
"Kikyo." She blurted it out without having to think about lying or staying silent. This woman was just so completely intimidating, she had no choice but to do whatever she asked.
"The guards that found her said she's six years old." The older woman spoke while her face was nearly buried in the plush rug they were standing on. "And already so pretty…"
"Enough, I can see what she looks like with my own two eyes, thank you." The other woman snapped, and Kikyo had to bite back a yelp of fright. Was this the person who would be chopping her head off? She seemed scary enough to be any of the villains in any of the stories she had read before, so she didn't doubt that cutting off little girls' heads was no problem for this monster lady.
"I apologize, your Highness." The old woman was still groveling, and Kikyo's mind suddenly clicked.
"You're the Empress?" she covered her mouth as soon as she spoke the words, terrified that she'd just signed her own death warrant. However, the woman laughed as though Kikyo had just told the best joke in all of existence.
"No country accent, I see." She was smiling in a way that scared Kikyo witless. "Very nice. It is so rare that we receive quality, educated companions for our men here at the Palace. I wonder…she seems so much like my brother's type, though she is still so young. I think I shall have him come and see. If she does not suit his tastes, we shall just have her sent to the dungeons for being such an utter dunce as to ask me whether or not I am, in fact, the Empress Kijo."
"Empress, she had no idea, I'm sure." The old woman was pleading, and Kikyo suddenly had some idea that if this Empress woman liked her, she would not die. At least, not yet. But then, she was still Gifted. What would they do with her?
"How would you like to serve your country, little girl?" the Empress was close to her again, looking at her face critically, "I will give you the choice. Either you can die in the dungeons, or wear dresses like this and live for as long as you are a good girl."
"I…do not wish to die." She managed, though it was horrible to speak to the woman whose very presence was making her blood run cold with fear. What did that mean, though? To serve…perhaps she was to be a maid? That was not horrible at all. Not compared to dying, it wasn't.
"Good." Empress Kijo swept out as suddenly as she had entered, and the old woman stood, beaming at Kikyo as though they had just won some great prize.
"Oh, she liked you! Great job, little one." The old woman did a little happy foot shuffle that Kikyo supposed was supposed to resemble a dance. "Now then, let us get you to the Apartment, and you can meet the others housed there." And then she took Kikyo by the hand, pulling her out of the room and leading her through the serpentine castle hallways.
Well then. Serving the country, as a maid, that was not too bad. Not too bad at all.
And maybe she could escape someday to see Miroku. Surely. In her stories, people were always escaping dungeons and castles and other such places. It could not be as difficult as it was made out to be. Surely not.
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He had escaped again.
It would take the nurses at least three hours to find him, and that was only if they had already noticed his absence. He was not one that many people missed. And he wanted to see his mother. Only his father would allow that, and he was always busy these days, what with running the country and keeping the Empress from swallowing him whole, evil woman that she so obviously was. And then of course, his half-brother was going to be sixteen in no time, and so there were an endless number of arrangements to be made. His wife had to be chosen, and though it would probably be someone that the Empress chose herself, his father liked to try and have power over these things.
Sneezing lightly, the little boy of eight years stood from where he'd been crouched behind a column, waiting for a servant to pass without seeing him. They would know him. Even if there were many other children in the Palace, which there really weren't, he was the only one that was always alone. He was the one that no one ever played with. The one with hair as silver as his father and brother. And almost certainly, he was the only one in the palace with puppy ears growing out of the top of his head.
Inuyasha did not mind that the other children wouldn't play with him, because usually when they did want to play, he ended up in the mud, or bleeding badly, or generally ostracized and abused. It was nicer to be alone than to be hurt so that people would look at you. And since he never really fought back, they tired of that soon enough. Even though it was somehow fun to attack the Prince Inuyasha because they knew that if Emperor Inutaiko found out, they would be in trouble, while if Empress Kijo found out, they would be praised. That was why it had started, Inuyasha knew. Because Kijo hated him so much. He wasn't her son. He shouldn't even be prince. He was an abomination. No one really wanted him to exist, and even though he knew this on some levels, he still had a hard time understanding why.
Well, that was not fair. His father loved him. And his mother, Keiko, she loved him as well. She was easier to see, as she was not busy at all. Her job was to sit around all day and keep herself pretty for when his father called for her. That was it, and so, ever since the others in the Apartment had decided not to be friends with her anymore, he had her all to himself almost any time he wished. Not that he was really sure they had ever been friends with her, as the fact of the matter was that his birth had been the event that had caused them to cast her out of their circle.
And none of them seemed to like him, either, even though he knew that since they were all Gifted, they really had no place to put him below them, since he was at least half Youkai, and therefore ranked much higher than any of them did. They could never have ranks, really. Maybe that was why they hated him. It was hard to know.
Inuyasha knew the secret corridors that led to the Apartment better than most grown men who had visited the chambers themselves on numerous occasions. Of course, they went for pleasure of a different sort, and Inuyasha was still far too young to fully understand any of that. He just knew that if he followed the directions that he had memorized and then tapped three times on the wall behind the big blue tapestry, he would find a secret door, and through the door, there was a secret staircase that led to a room that only the highest ranking aristocratic Youkai in all of Fukumaden had ever seen. It's existence was a carefully guarded secret, but Inuyasha knew little about the reasons and policies and questions that would be brought into play if it was publicly known that in the Apartment, there was a populations of about forty girls and women, from his age to the age of thirty. After they were thirty, they were usually sent away, unless someone wanted them to stay longer. Usually no one cared for that sort of thing. Inuyasha's own mother was only twenty-four. Of course, Inuyasha knew she would never leave. Inutaiko loved her. He had told his son this secret on a dark night, when Inuyasha had cried, worried about what would come of his little family in the years that were sure to pass in good time. And so, he ran to her as she smiled down at him, and she swept him up in her gentle arms, dropping kisses on his young head.
"You snuck away again, didn't you, Inuyasha?" her voice was gentle, soft, like music, but he knew that she was going to scold him as she always did.
"They don't know. I'll leave before it gets too late." He assured her, and she smiled, lighting her whole face up with the expression. Inuyasha was positive that there was no woman in the world that had ever been as beautiful as his mother, and there likely never would be one again.
"I love when you come to visit me, Inuyasha." She told him, setting him down as other beautiful woman swept around the chamber, full of self-importance. None of them looked at Inuyasha and his mother. None of them were as pretty as Keiko, either. "But I wish you would not worry your maids so much. It is enough to send them into an early grave, always chasing after you."
"I like it up here." He told her. "Father never has time, but you play with me whenever I ask."
"Yes, well," she tapped his nose softly. "You must always remember that your father loves you very much. He loves you because he loves me, and because you were the gift that we were given for loving each other so very much. Never in a hundred years would either of us stop loving you, because you are the most perfect son in all the world. Do not let anyone tell you differently, either."
"Not even Kijo?" Inuyasha asked, and there was a sudden frown on Keiko's face. She wasn't as lovely when she looked sad.
"Empress Kijo." She reminded him. "You must always remember she is the Empress, Inuyasha. And she is very powerful. Do not anger her unnecessarily."
"I hate her, though." He grumbled. "No wonder Sesshoumaru is so boring. He has her for a mother. She probably hates him, too. She hates the whole world.."
"Inuyasha," Keiko gave him a pained look. "Promise that even though you do not care for the Empress, you will not shun your brother. It is important to be close to your family, no matter what faults they may seem to have. You should remember that."
"I know, mother." Inuyasha sighed deeply. "But you're the only family I need. You and father."
"I love you, too, sweetheart." Keiko smiled again, and it lit up the room.
She really was the most beautiful woman in the world. Inuyasha took her hand and walked into the Apartment, letting her lead him to her own private corner as he looked around at all the others. And that was when he saw her.
A new girl, he was sure. She was about his age, but he wasn't sure. She was quite small, but she was also very pretty. She looked sad. She looked lost.
Inuyasha wanted to talk to her. He wanted to tell her that she would be alright.
He wanted to protect her.
But right then, he wanted to be with his mother, the person he loved most in the entire world.
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The End (Of Part 5, That Is)