InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The King's Mistress ❯ Musical Communication ( Chapter 5 )

Title: The King's Mistress

 

Author: dolphingirl0113

 

Chapter Four: The Message of Music

 

Rating: PG-13 (for language and, at times, implied sexual situations)

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~

 

That day on the hunt was the first time I saw the King as something more than an ethereal royal figure. I had always thought of him as arrogant and snobbish, until that day, when he so unabashedly gave me the credit for shooting the deer, and then made the banquet the same night in my honor. Suddenly, he was a man as much as he was an untouchable, arrogant figure, and frankly, the thought unnerved me. It was easier to see him as someone I disliked, as someone who stood for everything that I was against. And what was more, our obviously close moment made my sister more wary then ever, and watchful of moments when her future husband and I were alone together…

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Inuyasha couldn't figure out, for the life of him, what it was about Kagome Higurashi that was so intriguing. For the most part, she seemed just like any other woman, save for the fact that she had a sense of humor and an honest tongue that was unmatched at court. And her eyes were dark and mysterious, yet open, honest, and full of kindness at the same time.

 

Perhaps she wasn't so ordinary after all.

 

She had been living in the palace for well over four weeks, and the King was more perplexed than ever by her behavior towards him and the other members of the court. Her personality was such that she had quickly gathered about her a circle of friends, among them, to his annoyance, Miroku, as well as Sango, Kouga, Hojo, her brother Souta, and several other young men and women who Inuyasha didn't know personally. Even Shippou had taken to following the woman everywhere, treating her almost like a surrogate mother, and daring anyone to speak a word against her.

 

He sighed, thinking about how he would give anything to just be a normal courtier and follow her around like everyone else…

 

“Inuyasha, are you hearing a word I'm saying?”

 

“What?” He turned to see a rather frustrated looking Kikyou glaring at him from where she sat in her chair at the head of the long banquet table. The guests would not arrive for another hour, but it wasn't unheard of for the soon to be royal couple to lounge in the large hall in silence from time to time.

 

“You don't seem to care at all about what I have to say any more,” she darted her eyes back straight ahead, pretending to be hurt by the notion.

 

He rolled his eyes. “Oh come now, Kikyou, don't pretend to be upset, it doesn't suit you. Aren't you, after all, the woman of ice? The woman who doesn't feel anything?” Inuyasha leaned back slightly, his arms behind his head in a very un-regal fashion. “I don't think you know how to love.”

 

At that Kikyou glared at him for so long, her eyes burning, that Inuyasha wondered what was so important about what he had said to spark such an unusual show of emotion in his fiancée. Then, surprisingly, she lowered her head in shame and looked away, and he could tell that, for once, her reaction was genuine. “You know nothing about me,” she hissed.

 

Unsure of what else to do, he chuckled in reply, though it was sarcastic and somewhat nervous in nature. “Yes I know that now. The woman I fell in love with doesn't exist.”

 

She waved her hand as though to throw his comment away. “Don't be ridiculous, you never loved me.” Was it just his imagination, or did she actually sound unnerved by the thought that he loved her?

 

“And what makes you so sure of that?”

 

She risked a glance in his direction. “You never eyed me the way I see you eyeing my sister.”

 

Inuyasha raised an eyebrow at the unexpected comment. “Since when did Kikyou Higurashi, soon to be crowned Queen, and the most celebrated woman at court, care about what her sister does to occupy her time?”

 

“I don't care, except when it involves stealing the attention of my future husband. People are beginning to talk, saying that you and she are having an affair, that you are…lovers.” Kikyou eyed him carefully, silently asking if the rumors were true, and there was actual fear in her eyes, along with a rare amount of uncertainty as she spoke. It was so unlike her, and for some reason, it made him angry.

 

“Madam,” Inuyasha's voice had taken on a grave tone, “You treat me with indifference all this time, and yet when you think that someone else might threaten your territory, you act as though you have some claim over my heart?” He chose to leave out the fact that, in all honesty, she did have a claim on his heart…a hold he couldn't shake off, no matter how hard he tried.

 

It didn't seem to matter that he felt chilled by her presence. That her cold demeanor directed towards him cut deep into his soul. Nor did it matter that he sensed she, in some deep, restricted place of her heart, resented the fact that he was a hanyou. Even with all of that it was as though she and her beguiling looks and tragically beautiful eyes had bewitched him into loving her for all of time.

 

Kikyou smiled sadly, clearly remembering something. “You know we are two like souls, Inuyasha. We've both known pain. That's why you are going to marry me…I'm the only one here who understands you.”

 

The King grunted, hating her rationale. Sharing pain was no reason to marry. “You're wrong; I asked you to marry me thinking you were a vibrant young woman who just might have brought the joy back into my life that I lost the day my mother died. But instead I find myself marrying the ice queen.” He frowned, trying to turn the conversation impersonal once more. “Which brings me back to what I said earlier: you don't know how to love. I just wish I'd seen that before I fell in love with you.”

 

That was the final straw, and Kikyou practically threw herself out of her chair, knocking her glass of wine to the ground in the process. Inuyasha couldn't help but feel somewhat surprised at that. She never acted so spontaneously…as though she had no control over her emotions.

 

“Don't you ever presume to know me, or how I feel,” she hissed, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “I've been through hell, and at this point you have no right to judge me Inuyasha.” Her voice was laced with venom as she whirled around and stormed out of the room altogether.

 

Inuyasha took a deep breath to calm his temper, but when that did nothing to help, he ended up throwing himself out of his chair too, though his strength was enough to knock over the entire table in the process, rather than just his chair.

 

So what, the staff would clean it up, he told himself.

 

Storming out in the opposite direction, Inuyasha stomped the ground hard, glad when he heard the floor beneath him rumble slightly. He even punched the stone walls a few times, ignoring the blood that was starting to appear on his knuckles. He wasn't really punching that hard, because if that were true the walls would be gone altogether, but still, it was hard enough to hurt.

 

“Who does she think she is?” he muttered angrily. “All I've ever wanted in my life was to be loved by someone, and accepted for who I am…” his voice faded to a whisper as he felt his rage fade into the familiar sense of loneliness and despair he had known his entire life. He never let anyone see how alone he truly was, but that didn't stop the feelings from returning whenever he was by himself.

 

His mother, the elegant second wife of his late father, had been the only one to openly care for the hanyou. She had embraced him in public, and over and over again told him how much she loved him.

 

He had been the disgraceful hanyou son of the King, in the eyes of the public more shameful than a royal bastard son, and she had been the disgraceful wife who gave birth to him. But, in time, she had managed to win over the peoples of the court, and of the kingdom, with her kind smiles and gentle, understanding voice so that, by the time she died, she was the most beloved Queen the country had ever known. But Inuyasha, with his hanyou ears and amber eyes a constant reminder of what he was, had never been able to rise above the rumors and open looks of disgust and rejection.

 

He had been able to ignore all that, so long as she was with him. So long as his mother kept holding him close at the end of the day, wiping away his tears after he was excluded from playing with the other court children or insulted by some lady or supposed gentleman at court, he had been able to stand it all. So long as he had his mother…

 

He sighed at the memory.

 

Inuyasha could still smell her skin, like rose petals, the ones he refused to cut down in the garden, as her soft face gazed at him in kindness. He could picture her slim figure walking through the hallways of the palace, dressed in her elegant robes of state with the long, loose sleeves that had gone out of fashion following her death. She had always allowed her long hair, black as a raven's wing, to fall freely down her back, never liking the fancy styles of the ladies of the court, and her skin had been so white it gleamed like ivory. He remembered that deep purples and pinks had been her favorite colors…

 

…And so long as she had been alive, he had felt safe and secure.

 

But then she had died, suddenly, when he was very young, leaving him alone to deal with his cruel older half brother, Sesshoumaru, and his father, who frankly never seemed to care what his younger son was up to, good or bad.

 

Rejection had quickly become something of a second skin for him after a while, and Inuyasha accepted his fate as the second-born son, which would be to wander the world alone, with no one at his side who cared. And so the hanyou had looked forward to the day when he would be released from his duties as a royal prince after Sesshoumaru was crowned, and allowed to leave the court to start a new life in a new place where no one would know him. He had even pondered living alone in the hills somewhere, hunting for food when necessary and fighting off wayward demons who threatened his home. Yes…that would have been the life he wanted.

 

But then his father had died, and everything had changed.

 

That day when the Royal Will was read, and the swords presented, had been the worst in his life. Never in a million years would Inuyasha have expected the great sword tetsusaiga to be handed to him, naming him King. From the moment the sword was placed in his hands by Myouga, the executor of the late King's will, Sesshoumaru had viewed his younger brother with malice. The older, pure blooded demon had been granted the sword tenseiga, meaning he was to rule over the Western Lands, but still be suppliant to his brother Inuyasha. That was a blow Sesshoumaru could not take, and a bitter feud had ensued, one that had brought the country near to civil war for almost six months.

 

Around that time, Inuyasha had also become better acquainted with the Lady Kikyou, and her soft smiles and purposeful turns of the head had quickly enraptured him. He had been so desperate to love someone then, and be loved in return, that he had ignored all the warnings from his advisor and only friend, Miroku, and asked her to marry him. Only now could he see his mistake and the truth behind all the warnings.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Inuyasha sat with his arms crossed on his throne, feeling and looking just like a spoiled child who had been told he had to eat his vegetables before he could eat his dessert. But in this case, the vegetables involved sitting through yet another royal banquet, while the dessert was retiring to his room…and solitude for the rest of the night.

 

“Come on, Inuyasha,” A familiar voice called out, and the hanyou turned to see his friend Miroku smiling at him, a beautiful lady on each arm. “Try and enjoy yourself!”

 

“Keh,” was all he said in reply and returned to his silent brooding while, all around him, people laughed and danced and drank wine, having a wonderful time.

 

Finally, after sitting alone for a long time, he could stand it no longer and, rising quickly to his feet like a spring that had been released, he headed for the balcony doors, desperate for some fresh air and solitude. His poor hanyou senses couldnotstand the noise and the incessant smells of perfume any more.

 

The evening was pleasant, with the sun just having disappeared, which meant the sky was still mostly a light blue, not having faded into the midnight color that allowed all the stars to shine, yet there were still a few brave ones glowing on the horizon while the moon, halfway through its monthly cycle, gleamed above.

 

He groaned…he was always aware of the moon and what it was doing.

 

Thinking he was alone, Inuyasha was thus startled when a voice spoke to him from behind. “You grew tired of the festivities too, Your Majesty?”

 

The voice was low and rich, like velvet to his ears, and the hanyou couldn't help but shiver slightly at the sound. He'd never heard such a voice before. He replied without turning around, almost afraid of finding a nymph, and not a real person, behind him. “Does that surprise you?”

 

The sound of soft footsteps sounded behind him, and the owner of the voice stepped closer to him. Inuyasha instantly caught the scent of apple trees, and sighed. “Not at all. I'm surprised you don't take your leave of the court more often, in all honesty.”

 

“And what's that supposed to mean?”

 

There was a pause, and Inuyasha figured the owner of the voice was probably shrugging her shoulders. “Nothing offensive, of course. Just that, well, I'm sure it must be very hard to be a King all the time, and thus you would wish to be alone sometimes.”

 

For some reason that reply annoyed him; probably because it was exactly how he was feeling. “Keh, then why don't you take your own advice and leave me alone?”

 

“If that is your wish.” But the person made no move to leave, and Inuyasha sighed in frustration. Why did he always have to talk to people? He'd never been much of a social creature.

 

Turning around slowly, figuring he'd have to make another formal introduction to a stranger, Inuyasha was surprised when he found himself face to face with the most angelic woman he'd ever seen.

 

Dressed in a gown spun of deep purple and outlined in black velvet, she regarded him steadily, with a rare, assured confidence, though her face was kind. The gown itself was a very modern cut, with a slightly revealing yet modest neckline, her sleeves tightly fitted all the way to her knuckles, two of her fingers adorned with admirable purple stones. Her hair, black as the sky at midnight, gleamed, clearly well washed and groomed,andwas pulled back to fall over her shoulders, two loose strands falling down over her ears before joining the rest where it was held in place at the nape of her neck by a strand of black pearls. More black pearls were belted at her waist, and she also wore a matching choker at her throat.

 

Her eyes, dark and mysterious, gleamed with intelligence, peering out from a face that seemed perfectly sculpted with a delicate nose and beautifully shaped mouth, which was currently curved slightly upward in an appraising smile. Her skin was pale, but not overly so, instead making her seem like she was made of soft ivory, and Inuyasha had to resist the temptation to reach out and touch her cheek just to test the theory.

 

He gulped. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

 

Raising an eyebrow slightly, the woman smiled even more boldly. “Do you approve of what you see?” She asked in that rich, velvety voice that caused him to almost feel drowsy. “Or should I spin around for you once, to give you a better view?”

 

“What?” He blinked stupidly, for once at a loss for words, and shook his head. “There is no need for that.” He took a step forward, all traces of annoyance at being disturbed wiped from the earth. “I don't believe I've ever seen you at court, my lady.”

 

She regarded him steadily. “I should think not, as I have been away on…personal matters…for six months.”

 

He felt the need to be flirtatious. “So you're not offended that I do not know you?”

 

“Of course not. But I know you. You are the King.” She curtsied low to accent her point.

 

“But that still doesn't tell me who you are.”

 

Rising up to her full height once more, which still only placed her at his chest, she smiled kindly. “My name is Kikyou Higurashi. My mother is the Marquess Higurashi, and my father was a Duke.”

 

“Was?”

 

“Yes; he is dead now.” She said it simply, and he could tell that she was a practical woman, even if she did seem kind. She clearly didn't dwell on tragic or painful matters anymore then was absolutely necessary. “But have you heard of my mother?”

 

“Of course,” He replied honestly, for who didn't know of the woman who had been made a Marquess in her own right after her husband died, giving her the right to run her household as she chose and receive a wealthy pension every year without ever having to marry again.

 

They continued to regard one another for several minutes, and Inuyasha felt, surprisingly, comfortable in this strange woman's presence as time continued to pass. She carried an air of sorrow on her shoulders…the kind of sorrow he would recognize anywhere, because it was the same sorrow he carried within his own breast. The thought comforted him to some degree.

 

Finally, deciding he'd had enough of the fresh air, he held out his hand to her and awkwardly gave her a smile. “Would you care to dance, Lady Kikyou?”

 

She raised an eyebrow, but smiled just the same. “I thought you wished to be alone.”

 

“You are correct, but you came and talked with me anyway, so now I have no choice but to dance with you…it is proper courtly manners.”

 

“I see.” Their voices were flirtatious now, and Inuyasha couldn't deny that the Lady Kikyou seemed to be an expert at that particular game. Slipping her hand into his, he momentarily savored how soft her skin was, proving his earlier theory correct, as he led her into the fray of the dancers once more, hoping against hope that this would not be the last time he would dance with her.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

“Keh,” he grunted, running a hand over his face as though to wipe the memories from his eyes and his heart. After all, what good did self-pity ever do for anyone, let alone Inuyasha, the hanyou?

 

Still, it was hard to believe that the Kikyou who had so boldly approached him on the balcony that evening was the same woman who was now to be his wife. She had shut him away the moment the engagement was sealed, and for some strange reason he sensed that she did so in order to protect her heart. That thought stung more than anything else, since it implied that she didn't trust him to take care of her.

 

Without meaning to, a soft smile came unbidden to his lips as he recalled a very different introduction he'd experienced with a very different Higurashi woman. He could still remember, vividly, that day in the rose gardens when he had first seen Kagome, and how, if only for a second, he had thought she was Kikyou.

 

Yet, as he had quickly learned, she was anything but…

 

Where Kikyou had known all the right things to say to capture his attention, and all the respectful gestures to make, Kagome had stumbled over her words and snapped at him as though he were nothing more then a rude child. And what was more, she had not even known he was the King, only proving how naïve she was of the goings-on at court. And yet, where before he'd found that offensive, now he simply found it refreshing and, frankly, amusing.

 

Her innocence was something that he sorely missed; since most of the women at court had hidden motives behind ever smile, every turn of their head, and every flirtatious compliment. Kagome Higurashi never said anything that she didn't mean, and he appreciated, if nothing else, her honesty, even though sometimes she could be a little too blunt and irritate his easily-angered temper.

 

As he continued leaning against the hard, strong stone wall, his arms crossed and his brow creased in concentration, the sound of soft violin music caught the attention of his ears, and Inuyasha turned suddenly, enraptured by the song as he followed the sound up several flights of stairs onto a separate level of the palace. When had anyone in his court learned to play like that? Not even the professional musicians he hired could play like that…

 

Turning a corner, he found himself staring at a slightly open door, from which came the hauntingly beautiful melody. Deciding he was the King and could do what he wanted, Inuyasha pushed the door open and continued to follow the music, ignoring the fact that, from the looks of the decorations, he had just entered a woman's bedchamber. But he stopped suddenly, an invisible bucket of ice water pouring over his head, when he saw none other than Kagome, Kikyou's gentle sister and the very woman of his thoughts, standing by the windows to the left of her large canopy bed, a violin in her hands.

 

Her eyes were closed as her delicate fingers gently clutched the bow in one hand, moving it back and forth over the fragile strings in a pattern which created a ghostly, haunting sound that spoke of sadness and loss. Her entire body moved as she played, swaying to the beat and the rhythm, and once or twice she spun around completely, her long black hair following like a halo.

 

It wasn't the first time she had so enraptured him, but Inuyasha was speechless all the same. She seemed almost like she was speaking to the heavens through her music, because she appeared completely unaware of anything around her, including him.

 

In the back of his mind, Inuyasha recalled Kouga having made some comment about how the Lady Kagome was renowned for her skills on the violin, and the King was forced, unwillingly, to admit that once again the annoying wolf was right.

 

Yet another reason for Inuyasha to envy his rival…

 

Kagome pulled the last string before lifting her bow, and the room went silent as she opened her eyes. When she saw him, Inuyasha couldn't tell if she was surprised, angry, or happy, because she just stared like someone waking from a dream…not quite awake, but not quite asleep either.

 

“Th-that was beautiful,” he finally stammered, his impatient personality unable to stand the silence any longer. The spell was broken, and she blinked several times.

 

“Why are you here?” she asked, in a tone that showed she wasn't pleased that he had arrived unannounced and uninvited.

 

“I, um, heard music, and…” he stopped his stupid stammering, cursing mentally for being so foolish. He was the King. This woman should be honored that he was gracing her room with his presence.

 

But Kagome didn't seem to pay much heed to his sudden silence, instead picking up a cloth and beginning to polish her instrument, which already glowed a healthy cherry red. Clearly, she took very good care of the violin.

 

“When did you learn to play like that?” he finally asked, annoyed at the woman's habit of lapsing randomly into silence while at other random moments he couldn't get her to shut up.

 

She seemed to blanch slightly, but it was only because of his sharp eyes that Inuyasha even noticed. Her voice was soft, like feathers against his skin, as she spoke. “My father taught me.”

 

“Oh,” he looked away, knowing her father was dead. He had learned that much from Kikyou, before they had become engaged and she had practically turned to stone.

 

“He told me I was meant to play the violin, and that I should never stop,” Kagome continued, and Inuyasha found himself listening despite the warning bells in his head, the ones that protected his heart from pain, telling him to leave.

 

“He was very wise, because I've never heard anyone play like you just did.”

 

Kagome looked away, her kind eyes laced with an inner sadness. “I did stop playing for a while, after he died. I thought I could never hold the violin again, because all it did was remind me of him.”

 

Why is she telling me this? He wondered silently, at the same time feeling strangely grateful that she was even speaking to him. “But you obviously changed your mind,” He finally offered.

 

“No,” Kagome smiled genuinely, and Inuyasha felt some of the ice around his heart melt at the sight. “I still think of him whenever I play, but in a good way. I realized that, by playing, I was still close to him, and always will be.”

 

“You figured this out on your own?” He meant it to be sarcastic, but Kagome just acquired some far off look, lost in thought, a sad smile on her face.

 

“No, Kikyou told me that, and she was right.”

“Kikyou!” Inuyasha blinked stupidly.

 

“Yes,” she looked back at him with a puzzled frown, as though she couldn't understand why he found that such a strange concept. “What's the matter?”

 

“Nothing…”

 

She crossed her arms, the violin still in hand and currently resting awkwardly on her elbow. “Obviously something's wrong.”

 

“Nothing's wrong, woman, so just leave me alone!” He snapped, and Kagome blinked before shrugging her shoulders, clearly not in the mood to rise to his anger that particular day.

 

“Whatever you say.”

 

They stared at each other silently for several minutes, the great mahogany clock on the nearby wall ticking away the seconds, before Inuyasha couldn't stand it any more, and burst out. “How could Kikyou have told you that? I thought you hated each other!”

 

That did seem to surprise her, because Kagome took a step back. “Hate…Kikyou?” She seemed positively baffled at the prospect.

 

“That's what I said, isn't it?”

 

She looked away and put a hand over her heart, as though she had been pierced by one of her arrows and was now in deep pain, and when she spoke her voice was very tight. “I could never hate Kikyou, she is…my sister.”

 

“I know she's your sister,” Inuyasha rolled his eyes.

 

She looked at him sharply. “Then how could you ask me that?”

 

“Because every time I see you two together it's like hell is freezing over.”

 

“Oh,” Kagome looked away again, seeming to deflate. “Well, she's changed. Now we don't get along so much, it's true, but…I could never hate her.”

 

Another uncomfortable silence passed, and Inuyasha nodded, unsure of what else to say. Finally, he took a deep breath and prepared to leave, feeling he had overstayed his welcome. Not to mention the fact that he really hated the way his heart seemed to twist into knots around Kagome Higurashi.

 

“You should, um, play for us some time at one of the banquets,” he finally commented casually, trying to say something to lighten the mood before he left.

 

“No,” she replied quickly, but firmly, and Inuyasha felt his temper rise again at her arrogant response.

 

“Excuse me? You forget that I am the King, and I could order you to play.” He rolled his eyes and smirked. “I don't see why you wouldn't want to…unless you have stage fright or something.”

 

“I'm not afraid!” she snapped back, her quick temper, as usual, surprising him. Most people of the court didn't dare speak to him in such a tone.

 

“Then what is it? To have a gift like that and not share it is cruel to others who deserve to share your music.” And why the hell did he care? He grumbled to himself.

 

“I wouldn't expect someone like you, a King, to understand,” Kagome hissed in reply, for a moment sounding just like Kikyou who, only about twenty minutes ago, had warned that Inuyasha knew nothing about her heart. Perhaps the sisters were more alike than he had first thought…

 

“I'm no spoiled brat, Lady Kagome,” he replied, his own voice going cold as he remembered everything he had ever endured growing up. “And you would be wise to take some of your own advice.”

 

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means that while I might not understand everything about you, the same could be true about me!” He yelled, obviously catching Kagome by surprise. Her eyes opened, and he instantly caught the scent of fear in the air.

 

Glancing down, Inuyasha noticed that his nails had lengthened and sharpened slightly and, reaching up, he could feel the heat from the marks on his face appear. No, he thought desperately, not here, not now. It was then that he realized he'd forgotten to wear his sword!

 

“Your Grace…” Kagome whispered, her voice tiny, so unlike her normal tone, walking up to him as though unafraid, though he could still smell her nervousness. “Are you alright?” He backed away sharply, feeling his fangs grow, making it difficult to speak.

 

“Stay away from me,” he hissed, and turned to go, only to feel a hand on his shoulder. Whirling around, he growled, his control barely being restrained by a thread. “What!”

 

Kagome was gazing at him in sympathy, before doing the last thing he ever expected. She hugged him.

 

“Forgive me,” she whispered, and he couldn't find the words to reply. But he did feel himself returning to normal. There was something about her scent, and her presence, that calmed him. The scent of rose petals…just like his mother…

 

“Forgive you for what?” he finally managed to whisper.

 

She pulled back and looked into his eyes, smiling at him again though he had to admit she seemed somewhat more wary now. “I won't ask you to tell me about yourself, or what pain you have known. I just want you to know that I'm sorry for making assumptions. You're right, it was wrong of me.”

 

Inuyasha stared as though she had suddenly grown horns out of her head, his mind, for some reason, not really processing what she had just told him. Had she just apologized? She actually knew how to do that? “Keh, you would do well to remember that, wench,” he muttered, and noticed her face harden once more.

 

Oops.

 

“Well, now that we're clear,” she spoke in cold tones, her smile gone, “I think you should go. I'll see you tonight, Your Grace.”

 

“I told you to call me Inuyasha!” he called back, that being the only thing he could think of to say in reply. How did she manage to get under his skin so easily?

 

“Perhaps I will, if you start calling me Kagome!” she retorted. “Not wench, not woman, Ka-go-me. Got it?”

 

He growled and muttered something about unfathomable, impossible women, before storming out of the room and back into the hallway. But halfway down the stairs, he heard the music start up again, this time in a happy tune, and Inuyasha couldn't resist the smile that formed on his face as he stopped, secretly, to listen.