Chapter 2: A sick joke

Jasper’s eyes stared down the lacquered wooden hall. He wished to be anywhere but here. He stole a glance to the head seat where the Matriarch sat, his new aunt in this strange world. He fingered his ring, recalling what he had to do.

After opening his eyes, he had appeared in a new world. Maisie likely had a word to describe this, as it mirrored some of the stories she had told.

Whatever the case, he was now Jun Jinshari, the unfortunate nephew of the Jinshari clan. His father was missing since he appeared on the battlefield, and his mother—likely killed by the matriarch. If not for his few supporters, he wouldn’t be alive. However, his position was precarious.

After a major poisoning event, he had survived, awakening with the sacred burns. They were the same as the wounds from the accident. That’s when he woke up in this body. If not for the ring, he would have thought this was a bad dream—a long dream of two years.

He closed his brown eyes, his long hair shifting in its high ponytail.

As for this moment, he was awaiting his sentencing—his betrothal. He couldn’t see it in any other way.

‘I’m sorry Ellen.’ His left hand clenched, his right unable to move. Fury burned in his heart. This body was that of a child, a ten year old at that.

A sliding shoji door opened, drawing their gazes, and a man bowed. After the Matriarch nodded, a girl was brought in by her guardian. Her eyes were sealed tight, revealing her own burn markings on her face. She fidgeted as the guardian urged her forwards.

“Mei Kasai is blind, Matriarch, so do forgive the child for her rudeness,” the guardian apologized, bowing deeply. Mei clumsily bowed as well. Jun’s heart sank. He felt sorry for the girl, but knowing the Matriach, he could see her plans. Marry him to a blind girl and keep him away from her power. He didn’t even want her position, but she would cement it anyway.

His right ear tickled.

‘Play nice.’ The voice of the Silver Flame chided.

“Well, since she is blind, we can get these formalities over with faster,” the matriarch’s head servant grunted. The matriarch waved her fan and the Guardian pushed Mei to Jun. Her fidgeting was evident as she stood there tilting her head to listen.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. Mei stilled, her eyes opening a little. They were soulless orbs of mostly white. She chewed on her lip.

Jun noted the gliding steps of the Matriarch as she rose and walked by.

“You’re not missing much by not seeing,” she passed the snide comment within earshot of Mei. Jun frowned. A string of unsavory descriptions flew in his mind, but he held his tongue. “Make sure she is taken to her estate,” the matriarch said to the servants behind him.

The Guardian excused himself and Jun reached out with his left hand.

“Come, Mei,” he said softly. Her eyes seemed to trace his movements, but just barely. Her hand nervously inched out and he grabbed it, pulling lightly. Her steps hesitated and he felt sorry for her as he began to guide her. The servants eyed him suspiciously, but he didn’t trust them. His imagination ran wild. Mei being dragged off, maybe even tortured into submission or trained to be a tool used against him.

He wouldn’t sit back on any of this. Not the unwanted betrothal, not on this child’s unfortunate fate.

He stepped onto the wooden walkway, whispering to Mei that the pathway sloped up when they turned right on the bridge. She seemed to relax as he guided her, reminding him of his father in his old age. Jun hoped the old man hadn’t died of heartache at his son’s passing.

As they crossed the water feature in the courtyard he motioned to Lira who stood at the entry to his estate. She winked and looked back before running towards them.

“Young Lord! Watch out!” she yelled, triggering some of his men in disguise to dash out, trying to attack them. The ruse played out well and the other servants of the Matriarch’s faction panicked. Jun pulled Mei into his arm, dashing to his entrance dodging a few thrown daggers. They were playing the script well. An arrow appeared at his feet and he scowled. Too well. Lira was at his side and pretended to shield him as they entered the gates.

Inside, he didn’t break his run as his men ushered him in. Once inside, he sighed and gently set Mei down. She seemed rather unfazed by the sudden attack. With a furtive glance, he wondered what sort of life she had lived where this didn’t bother her. An aide of his guided them to a safe place and only after it was just him, Mei, and Lira did he let his guard down.

“Since it seems there are enemies around, wouldn’t it be a good idea if the young lady stays nearby?” Lira asked sweetly. Jun glared at her. His head servant, the one he trusted the most was such a romantic it made him sick. The people of this world were all a bit odd.

“Have her stay in the west wing. It’s safe enough,” he ordered instead. Lira seemed disappointed but she took Mei’s hand.

“If that is the Lord’s wishes,” Lira hummed as she guided the child away. Jun watched with concern. Mei took this rather stoically. Something screamed dangerous, but no warnings rang in his right ear.

After Lira got Mei’s sleeping arrangements in order, she came to take care of him. Jun was in the training grounds. The Master corrected his form, smacking his left wrist. Jun gritted, taking the hint. At first, he had approached because of his love of swords back on earth, but the real deal and training were intense. Especially since he couldn’t counterbalance with his right arm. That limited the weapons he could wield and made some maneuvers impossible.

As the night began to blanket the sky, he handed the sword to the Master and took a towel from Lira.

“Wonderfully done Young Lord.”

“Your dedication makes you seem old, child,” The master quipped. Lira scowled, running into a familiar tirade about how rude the Master was. Jun however, stepped out. Their prattle sounded like fun jests between friends, and he had long given up on stopping them. He made his way to a wash basin and dipped his hand in, relishing in the cool water. He grabbed the towel and heard Lira’s pounding feet.

“Young Lord! Let me,” she griped. Jun frowned. He was a grown man in his head, not a child that needed such pampering. However, she washed his long hair, retying it as a high ponytail. He grumbled. Independence seemed so far away. As she moved to help wash the sweat away he took the towel away hastily and draped it on the wash-bin.

“I can take it from here,” he growled. Lira only laughed.

“Has our young lord grown a conscience now that he is betrothed?” she teased. Jun scoffed and picked up the wash-bin, intending to finish it himself. If this finally got her to quit treating him like a kid, then he would welcome the idea, no matter how misguided it was.

After arriving at his garden adjacent to his room he sighed in relief that Lira hadn’t followed.

‘Sing.’ The Silver Flame’s voice rang and he froze, the towel nearly slipping out of his hands. This was the first time it sounded like a command.

“Sing? Really,” he grumbled back. As far as he knew, he was the only one who could hear her voice, and it came at odd times. He appreciated its warnings of danger, but this?

‘Sing.’ It insisted. He sighed, his mind drawing blanks on what to do about this. Finally a tune came. One of the campfire songs his wife had loved. The tune fell from his lips but his heart hung. What would she say if she saw him now? If he ever met up with her again, he would do whatever crazy request she had to regain her favor.

He kept singing as he began to wash his right arm, but froze as he heard a crackle of stone. He looked out in the darkness, past the lush grass to the stone garden where the gravel and sand was arranged.

Suddenly the rocks scraped—eyes catching the movements—he tossed the bucket at his would be assailant. With a dash, he entered the veranda and then his room. A sword decorated the wall. He flicked it off and faced the attacker.

A masked individual charged. With a steady step he dodged to the right—left hand steady as it swung.

The attacker seemed inexperienced, but managed to evade by a hair’s breadth. Jun backed off.

“How do you know that song?” the voice of the assailant demanded. It was a girl’s voice. Jun’s frown deepened.

“You first, who are you and why are you attacking me?” He brandished the sword, straightening into one of the many stances he had learned. The sword was heavy. He would need to finish this quickly.

The masked girl froze. In the light of the brazier he caught sight of her soulless eyes staring into his.

“Jasper?” she asked. Jun’s eyes widened, his hand tightening on the sword. Stupid.

“How do you know that name?” he asked, trying to turn his reaction away from his identity.

She hesitated and then pulled on her mask in a way that made him freeze. Her words only strengthened his suspicion.

“I’m Maisie,” she said, her posture shifting like his daughter had. “But you would know me as Mei, Lord Jun. Do you know my father?” she asked innocently.

Jun’s features darkened. This had to be a sick joke.

(Author Note: Arranged Marriages in this world do not happen till characters come of age at 19, but as with arranged marriages, the betrothals happen among nobility that want to foster ties earlier than that...)