InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ The King's Mistress ❯ Bitterness of the Heart ( Chapter 9 )

Title: The King's Mistress

 

Author: dolphingirl0113

 

Chapter Eight: Bitterness of the Heart

 

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

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.

 

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

 

Is love blind? Is it truly as unavoidable as they all say? I used to scoff at such an idea, but I learned through pain and joy that once your heart chooses its love, it will not waver, either to your delight, or utter horror.

 

What a strange organ the heart is…there I was, with a handsome man who adored me, who was kind, and who would never bring sadness to my door, and yet, when the time came to decide, it chose the one man in the entire world I could not have…a King…Inuyasha.

 

With that dance, I could feel a change in the air, as though something had shifted in fate's plan, as though someone weaving the thread of life had suddenly decided to change colors. It was a strange feeling, knowing that, in one moment, you had successfully changed the course of the future. And yet, somehow, it felt right, like I had finally found my reason for living. Inuyasha needed me…my sister, though she or I didn't know it yet, needed me. The land was teetering on the edge of chaos, precariously close to falling, and I was the only one who could save it.

 

If only, then, I had known what damage it would wreak on my own heart…if only I had known how much pain, death, and destruction were suddenly thrown into the mix with just that one dance, that one shift in fate…

 

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

 

The night air was surprisingly warm considering the wind that insisted on disturbing the silence of the plains stretching out before the giant castle. It was ancient, having existed long before most had any memory, made out of rock and stone, built with the blood, sweat, and tears of men long since dead and gone from the world.

 

Consisting of eight floors, a large kitchen in the basement, and sitting atop nearly two acres of land, it was an impressive sight, especially for one traveling across the western plains, the gently rolling hills and grassy knolls bringing the great structure into sight, and then out as one descended into another valley. But that night, the cloaked traveler did not seek to enjoy the view, for he had seen it many times before when the court of Inutaisho had traveled there for holidays, and it no longer served to impress him. Besides, his business that night was strictly that: business, and anyone or anything that stood in his way would suffer the consequences.

 

Naraku had plenty of time to reflect on the events of his life during his four-week journey here, to the lands of the West, where he hoped to gain council with the eldest son of Inutaisho, and half brother to the King, Inuyasha. It was well known, after all, that Sesshoumaru and the King did not get along, especially ever since the younger brother was granted the throne while Sesshoumaru was sent to live in the castle of the west, being granted the title Lord of the Western Lands.

 

His long hair was hidden under his cloak as he walked, not wanting to be seen by anyone, the hood partially hiding his face so that his beady red eyes were not visible to other travelers on the main roads. He knew his face had been marked as a former criminal, and that he would be watched for possible trouble, and as such only traveled at night and in the early morning when no other people were out and about.

 

What he intended to do once he reached Sesshoumaru's castle, he did not know. All he could think was that he wanted revenge; revenge for the years he spent in that cursed tower, his life wasting away, his will to live slowly fading in and out like an unpredictable storm. Inutaisho was dead, so he could no longer seek revenge against the great King, but Naraku was willing to settle for the son and heir apparent, who had looked at him with such suspicion that day when he was pardoned. But more then anything, he wanted revenge against the woman who had evaded him for so long, the woman who had haunted his dreams at night and danced before his open eyes during the day.

 

“Kikyou…”

 

The little bitch had betrayed him, left him out to hang and rot on his own, too afraid of bringing shame to herself and to her family. Unfortunately, it was only later, he learned, that she realized she would have been covered with shame no matter what, and that the cloud of scandal was doomed to follow her for the rest of her life. That would have been enough for Onigumo, the broken-hearted man in the Tower, but it wasn't enough for Naraku, the evil soul who had been born sometime in the dark nights and haunted days spent in his grimy, rotting cell.

 

When he'd heard, through the gossip of the Tower guards outside his cell, that Kikyou was to wed the King, he had smirked to himself, wondering how many beds she'd had to sleep in to secure that position. The people of the country didn't love her, rather, they saw her as a fraud, but none dared say so in public for fear of angering the King.

 

And he could use that to his advantage now, he thought gleefully.

 

He would torture her poor soul until she thought she would go mad, threatening her life, but never quite pulling the trigger, making her constantly look over her shoulder to make sure she was safe. And then, just when she thought that perhaps she was safe, he would take her life, and perhaps his own, for once his revenge was complete he would have nothing more to live for. After all, Naraku was born to avenge what Onigumo could not, and once revenge was taken, he would no longer have any purpose.

 

The great castle now loomed before him, silver against the dark night sky, reflected by moonlight. Great iron gates were shut against intruders, though just beyond Naraku could see gardens of flowers, and blossoming trees. That struck him as odd, since Sesshoumaru had never seemed the type to be a nature-lover, but he decided not to dwell on the matter, since he should know soon enough all he needed about Inutaisho's eldest son.

 

The sound of footsteps sounded over his head, and Naraku looked up to see two guards at the top of the great wall surrounding the castle staring down at him from where they were sitting around a small fire. One called out, his voice strong and unwavering, just as a soldier's should be. “Who goes there?”

 

“One who seeks council with your lord,” Naraku replied, trying not to sound too threatening, for if he did, he would get no where.

 

The guard peered down at him again. “And what kind of man would come to call on Lord Sesshoumaru at this hour of the night, dressed in robes that conceal his face?”

 

Sighing and feeling slightly irritated at the soldier's questions, Naraku clenched one of his fists to keep from losing his temper. That would do no good, for him, or his cause. “Just tell your lord that a man called Naraku would speak with him. I have come from the city of his brother, the King.”

 

That did it, because a few seconds later the horrific sound of creaking hinges filled the night as the large gate began to rise, giving one a clearer view of what lay beyond in the richly furnished palace. Four more guards appeared, dressed in armor and carrying shields, swords at their sides securely, glancing over the strange visitor carefully.

 

“You bring news of our lord's brother?”

 

Naraku smirked. “You could say that.”

 

The guards looked at one another again, as though trying to decide what to do, before finally stepping aside and surrounding Naraku on all sides. “Come with us,” one of them said, “And wait in the antechamber. If his lord, Sesshoumaru, will speak with you, then we shall take you to him.”

 

“Most gracious,” Naraku ground out, trying to sound appropriate, though he felt like he was tasting something bitter with every flattering word and meaningless phrase that had been ground into his mind since he was a small boy and his parents taught him manners and etiquette.

 

If the castle looked imposing from outside, it looked even more so once inside. Through the main doors one was greeted with a long hallway carved in stone, lighted by hundreds of white candles, windows high up on the walls, though at night not providing any light, and leaving the flames to do all the work. A long red velvet carpet covered the floor, leading from the front doors into another large room, which was known as the antechamber, where one waited to speak with the lord.

 

Large, draped with curtains and tapestries, Naraku found himself momentarily distracted by the familiar sight. How many times had he come with the court to celebrate Christmas or Easter to this very room, waiting for the King to permit his court into the dining hall for celebrations and feasts?

 

Memories flooded his senses as he remembered a certain young woman, no older then fifteen, shyly staring at the ground, dressed in a gown of red and white, her hair pulled back behind her in a cascade of braids, her brown eyes full of warmth and kindness. Already known throughout the court as a player, he had walked up to her with a charming smile on his face, which she had returned, taking his offered hand and allowing him to lead her into the dining room to sit and eat. She was supposed to be another of his triumphs, another virgin taken, another innocent ruined…he hadn't known then the mesmerizing spell the little witch would put on him over time. The spell stupid romantics liked to call love…

 

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

 

Onigumo gave off an exasperated yawn, bored out of his mind with the same old routine he'd known for the past five years. The ladies and gentlemen of Inutaisho's court had just moved into the dining hall, and several young women had winked and beckoned for him to follow…but he had instead chosen to remain behind to enjoy the silence, which was so rare in the life of a courtier.

 

In all honesty, he was growing bored with his life at court. It had been desperately exciting and addictive at first, with all the women dressed in their beautiful gowns, ripe for love and attention, the high energy pulling him in like some kind of warped vortex.

 

But now it was all old to him…he'd done everything anyone could possibly do. He'd romped with almost every woman worth knowing at court, taken part in a few honorable duels (where he had won, of course), and even earned the honor of shooting the court dinner on many of the hunts.

 

What more was there to do?

 

Sighing, he pulled himself away from the wall, where he'd been leaning, his soft dark hair falling down around his shoulders, his brown eyes surveying the empty room.

 

He was indeed a handsome man…how else could he win the attention of so many different women? His face was deceptively soft, and he could easily play the part of the kind seducer, fooling his victims into believing that he was gentle and honest. It worked every time.

 

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps caught his attention, and he realized that someone was late for dinner, judging by the hurried pounding of their shoes on the floor. It was no doubt a woman, for a man's shoes did not create nearly such a racket.

 

A woman emerged through the far door, desperately trying to fix her hair behind her ears, and Onigumo felt his breath hitch in his throat as he got a good look at her.

 

She had long, raven hair that fell to her waist in an elegant braid currently interwoven with delicate pearls, and her eyes were warm and innocent, like that of a doe. Her skin was pale, like ivory, and he could just see the way it could gleam under the moonlight. She had a delicate nose and a swanlike neck, round, red lips completing an already perfect face, and as he rakishly eyed the rest of her body, he felt something stir within his gut.

 

He knew this woman…and yet he didn't know her. She was new to court. Kikyou Higurashi, he believed, was her name, just recently having made her debut, living in the country prior with her mother, the Marquess Higurashi. A noble family, to be sure.

 

He licked his lipsin anticipation.

 

He had found his next conquest.

 

“Are you lost, my lady?” He asked in his charming courtier's voice, standing up to his full height and eyeing her kindly. She stopped and stared at him, and as their eyes met, Onigumo felt something deep within his heart shift…something dangerous.

 

“Oh, no,” a maidenly blush came to her cheeks, causing her to practically glow, “I'm just late for dinner. It is most embarrassing, but, well, I accidentally fell asleep, and my maid forgot to wake me to prepare for dinner.” She glanced down at her afternoon dress of pink, “I fear I'm not even dressed appropriately.”

 

He had to stifle a groan as she gazed at herself, causing him, as well, to glance down at her generous curves and ample bosom. The rake within his heart could hardly stand just standing by with such a glorious woman in the room, and it was all he could do to withhold his desires and not frighten her. “I think you look stunning,” He finally replied, to which she smiled.

 

“Do you think so?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Her smile widened and she took a step in his direction. He felt himself tense slightly at the innocence and kindness in her eyes…emotions he tried to avoid. He'd never been with a woman so clearly naïve and trusting…in fact, there were no women like that at court any more. It caused him to feel very nervous.

 

“Forgive me, sir, for not introducing myself,” she said very politely, just like she had no doubt been taught when she was a girl. She extended her hand for him to take, and he obliged, marveling at how soft her skin was. “My name is Kikyou Higurashi.”

 

“Yes, I know,” He replied, grinning at her as he bent and brushed his lips over her knuckles. He felt her shiver slightly, and smirked in triumph. Innocent or no, she still reacted just the same as any other woman.

 

“You do?”

 

“Why yes, naturally…you are new at court, so everyone knows who you are.”

 

“Oh,” she blushed again. “Of course.”

 

“Though,” He added quickly, “You would stand out in any room with such beauty. I am absolutely in awe.”

 

This time her blush was out of pure pleasure. “And what is your name, sir?”

 

“Onigumo, my lady,” He kissed her fingers once more and then stood up, releasing her hand, which fell limply to her side.

 

“Well, my lord Onigumo,” she eyed him with a hidden confidence that he found intriguing. “Would you care to escort me into dinner since we are both late? It might be better to enter together…strength in numbers, you know.”

 

He chuckled and took her arm in his. “It would be my pleasure, Lady Kikyou.” She nodded in pleasure, and followed as he led the way into the dining hall, noting the natural grace with which she moved, and the intelligence that gleamed within her eyes behind her naïve persona. She was a delicious mystery…the answer to his silent prayers…and he promised himself that he would know all the secrets of this strange woman before long.

 

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

 

Shaking his head, Naraku felt like he could have growled at that instant, feeling foolish for allowing such memories back into the forefront of his thoughts. He hated her, that was all. She meant nothing to him now, and he would prove it to everyone when he took his revenge for what she did to him.

 

The guards disappeared through a large door, motioning for him to stay behind, to which he obeyed, leaning against one of the walls to regain control of his emotions. It would do no good to be so conflicted when he came before Sesshoumaru. He needed to be at his best, for he knew the demon lord was intelligent, more so then his younger brother, and just as ruthless if he thought he was being played for a fool.

 

“What comes to pass tonight shall determine my fate,” he whispered into the silence of the room, feeling as though his body were suddenly chilled. Either Sesshoumaru would help him, or he wouldn't. And all Naraku could do at the moment was wait.

 

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

 

The court was preparing to make its annual summer progress throughout the country, and all the servants were in an uproar. There were luggage crates to be packed, clothing to be mended, new garments to be made for eager mistresses seeking to impress the gentlemen, and plenty of gold to be counted so that the trip could be budgeted wisely.

 

On any average week, the great palace housed over one hundred noblemen and women along with the King, and then there were the nobles who lived in the city itself just beyond the palace walls, and all of them were to travel at once. On the one hand, it was a grand sight for any child watching alongside the road as grand ladies atop elegant Arabian mares passed by, their husbands and suitors following, dressed in their finest, jeweled carriages following behind all the people, carrying the massive amounts of luggage necessary for such a journey. On the other hand, it was an absolute zoo to orchestrate, and a headache Inuyasha had been dreading since he first found out he would be King.

 

Technically, the Queen was meant to be in charge of the summer progress, but since there was no Queen (as of yet) Inuyasha had the difficult task of selecting one of the women from his court to fulfill the demanding job. At first, he had planned to simply appoint Kikyou, after all, as his fiancée she was the logical choice, but the woman, still withdrawn and on edge, had refused, commanding that Inuyasha find someone else. It had resulted in a rather ugly fight between the couple (one that the court gossips had been talking about for weeks) and it had also left the King with a nearly impossible task: how the hell was he supposed to choose one woman out of nearly a hundred at his court?

 

“I don't know what to do Miroku,” he had finally burst out, admitting that he needed an outside opinion, something he preferred to avoid if possible.

 

The black-haired youth had simply turned with an innocent expression and cocked his head in curiosity. “Don't know what to do about what, Inuyasha?”

 

“You know what I mean,” The hanyou King had snapped, feeling very irritable. For too long court members had been beating down his door, begging to know if the rumors were true that he planned to call off the summer progress. He was at his wits end. “What should I do about this progress shit? I can't plan parties, you know that. And Kikyou refuses to do her duty.”

 

“It's not her duty yet,” Miroku reminded, though he knew it wasn't a bit of information Inuyasha needed to know. “After all, until she is Queen she is free to do as she likes.”

 

“But it's so unlike her to turn down the opportunity to show off her wealth, prestige, and power.”

 

“I think you know as well as I that she is having a hard time dealing with the release, and subsequent disappearance, of Onigumo.”

 

Inuyasha growled at the mention of the former convict who had practically vanished off the face of the earth three weeks ago. The last time he had been seen, he was heading for the west…for Sesshoumaru. “He is called Naraku now,” Inuyasha grunted. “And if he thinks I will feel threatened by his leaving, he can think again. I will not be intimidated by criminals.”

 

“I never said you were,” Miroku chuckled, reaching for a glass of wine. “We were talking about Kikyou, as I recall, and her reluctance to help you in this endeavor of yours.”

 

“No,” Inuyasha was feeling exasperated, “I was talking to you about finding the right woman for the job. I certainly had no intention of starting up a conversation about my icy fiancée.”

 

“Alright, alright, I'm sorry, I won't say anything about her again,” Miroku conceded, his eyes dancing even though his face was serious. He always knew just how far he could push the young King, but never crossed the line. “So tell me, what kind of woman are you looking for?”

 

“Keh, what does it matter?”

 

“Well, if I am to help you, I need to know what qualities are necessary in a woman who is to be named the Summer Maiden of the court.”

 

Inuyasha shrugged, feeling lost again, as he had for the past week every time he asked himself the same question. Every year one woman was honored with the title `Summer Maiden', which meant she would lead all the dances at the banquets with the King, plan the summer progress, and basically be almost like Queen for a summer, if she was not already Queen. But who was there now to fulfill such an honor? “I don't know, Miroku…mother always handled this, in fact, that's how she met father, and when she died, father always found someone else to do it. I was never involved in the planning…in fact; I didn't even go one year.”

 

Miroku sighed and put a hand under his chin to show he was thinking. “Okay, then tell me this: what was your mother like?”

 

“What?”

 

“You heard me: what was your mother like?”

 

Inuyasha laughed, though it was a cruel, sad laugh, and his eyes were suddenly melancholy. “Don't expect me to believe you can find a woman like my mother!” His gaze turned downward and his voice lowered to a mere whisper. “There is no one like her, and there never shall be again.”

 

Miroku had a smile on his face, the kind of smile that said he was planning something, and Inuyasha didn't like it one bit. “Just humor me, Inuyasha, alright?” He asked, though it was obvious he was already planning something beyond their conversation.

 

“Fine, whatever. She was, well…” He had been so young when she died, and yet, Inuyasha could remember everything about her. Her smell, the sound of her laugh, the appearance of her beautiful smile. She had been a kind ruler, with a gentle hand that caused all around her to want peace, if only to please her. He remembered the summer progresses, where she had carefully drawn out maps of the entire country, drawing in the five castles where they would stop to rest, along with any other noblemen's houses they would encroach upon for a few evenings here and there. He closed his eyes in memory.

 

“There, what do you think, Inuyasha?” Her eyes were dark and kind, her face beautiful and wise, and her dark hair fell about her like the dark feathers of a raven's wing.

 

The young hanyou prince gazed down at the colorful map before him, where he could see illustrations of many castles, villages, and a clearly marked trail, along which were small figures clothed in jewels and vibrantly colored gowns. He smiled, always loving anything that she touched. “It's beautiful, mama,” he said, his young voice resounding in the otherwise silent dining hall. They were alone that night, Inutaisho gone away on business and Sesshoumaru out practicing with his sword.

 

She smiled warmly and put an arm around his shoulders, drawing him close, and he smelled roses, just like the ones she always kept fresh in her garden. Leaning down, she kissed his cheek as well. “I think it's beautiful too,” she whispered. “We'll just have to thank the map makers, won't we?”

 

He nodded, his long silver hair shimmering in the light of the roaring fire. “Yes mama.”

 

“Inuyasha?”

 

The hanyou shook his head, causing the waking dream to fade away until it was again nothing more then a memory. He glanced over to find Miroku looking at him curiously. “What?”

 

“You still haven't answered my question.”

 

“Your question?” He had, momentarily, forgotten why they were even there talking. But with one steady shake of the head, his mind was totally clear once more, and he was able to answer confidently. “Mother was kind and gentle toward everyone. She always took great care in planning the summer progress, even if it meant that she hardly spent any time with her family for nearly two weeks. And every year she was in charge, everything was perfectly organized, right down to the seating chart of where people were to walk in the progression line down the roads and where they were to sit at banquets. She would write diplomatic letters every year to the rulers of the north, south, east, and west before the court had even begun to plan the trip, reminding them of her plans, and they with her, more then with any other Summer Maiden, were welcoming and kind because she just somehow inspired that in people.” He shrugged. “So, as you can see, there is no one at court who could do such a fine job.”

 

But Miroku was shaking his head again, looking mischievous, and Inuyasha turned his head slightly, trying to figure out what was going through his friend's mind.

 

“I think there is someone here who can do the job, Inuyasha,” he commented finally, his smile broadening into a full-out smile. “Someone who is kind, generous, and very diplomatic without even trying, so far as I have seen.” He put a hand under his chin again and acquired that starry look he always had whenever an attractive woman came to mind. “She is also beautiful, and has a laugh that sings like the birds.”

 

Inuyasha was growing impatient of such simple, mushy flattery, and stomped his foot. “Well, if you are so intelligent, then tell me who she is, so that I might be able to call upon her to do this great task.”

 

“You don't know?” Miroku teased.

 

“Of course I don't know! If I did know, I wouldn't be asking you, now would I?”

 

“Well, in that case,” he paused dramatically, “The woman that you seek is none other than your fiancée's sister, Kagome Higurashi.”