Day Thirteen: 300+ words of practice (300 words, SaiMono)
Just barely made tonight's word-count. But this was definitely more fun to write. Also added another page or three to "Merits" tonight, though that'll probably stay on my HD for a bit as I continue working away at it.
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Since he’d become an advisor to the Emperor at the Imperial Court, Kouyuu had been exposed to all kinds of dangers. Threats, assassination attempts, burglaries, assaults with a deadly flute; it happens when one is such a high-ranking officer.
He never thought his most dangerous encounter would actually be his own wedding reception.
At the kitchen table, they sat together, he on one side of Shuurei, Shuei on her other. Shuurei had insisted on remaining at home and celebrating ‘privately’; he had a feeling she’d anticipated the reactions of her family members and was trying to enact a bit of pre-emptive damage control. She was probably one of the very few Seiran would listen to, and at this point, Kouyuu would take any effort that would put a buffer between himself and the bipolar retainer. Since the moment he and Shuei had arrived-when Seiran had been sharpening the knives-to the call for supper-when Seiran had come in from chopping extra firewood-to the time they all sat down to dinner-when Seiran had insisted on escorting Shuurei to the table himself with a smile, then sent her two new spouses a glare with his red-gleaming EYES THAT PROMISED FATALLY PAINFUL DEATH IF SHE SO MUCH AS HICCUPED WRONG BECAUSE OF THEM-he hadn’t felt like a very welcome guest that night.
Then again, seeing as how he and Shuei had ‘accidentally’ both married the Kou princess, without her father’s blessing, her clan’s approval, or cheerfully offering to be soundly beaten by her family retainer first,… this wasn’t unexpected.
Thank the gods he’d remembered to bring a chicken to eat that night.
At least it had given the silver-haired man something to warm-up with-er, he meant, ‘kill’. First.
Kouyuu swallowed to try and wet his tight, dry throat.
Had Seiran always left his swords and ceremonial armour in the kitchen when they’d eaten there before?...
Then he blanched as he heard the latest guest arrive.
Ohgodsno,herecomesReishin-
As Shuei smiled faintly in amusement at Seiran’s antics and attempts at intimidation, he noted that his husband had paled at the sound of the outer door opening and closing as Shouka-his new father-in-law, he reminded himself-went to welcome the latest invitee.
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Since he’d become an advisor to the Emperor at the Imperial Court, Kouyuu had been exposed to all kinds of dangers. Threats, assassination attempts, burglaries, assaults with a deadly flute; it happens when one is such a high-ranking officer.
He never thought his most dangerous encounter would actually be his own wedding reception.
At the kitchen table, they sat together, he on one side of Shuurei, Shuei on her other. Shuurei had insisted on remaining at home and celebrating ‘privately’; he had a feeling she’d anticipated the reactions of her family members and was trying to enact a bit of pre-emptive damage control. She was probably one of the very few Seiran would listen to, and at this point, Kouyuu would take any effort that would put a buffer between himself and the bipolar retainer. Since the moment he and Shuei had arrived-when Seiran had been sharpening the knives-to the call for supper-when Seiran had come in from chopping extra firewood-to the time they all sat down to dinner-when Seiran had insisted on escorting Shuurei to the table himself with a smile, then sent her two new spouses a glare with his red-gleaming EYES THAT PROMISED FATALLY PAINFUL DEATH IF SHE SO MUCH AS HICCUPED WRONG BECAUSE OF THEM-he hadn’t felt like a very welcome guest that night.
Then again, seeing as how he and Shuei had ‘accidentally’ both married the Kou princess, without her father’s blessing, her clan’s approval, or cheerfully offering to be soundly beaten by her family retainer first,… this wasn’t unexpected.
Thank the gods he’d remembered to bring a chicken to eat that night.
At least it had given the silver-haired man something to warm-up with-er, he meant, ‘kill’. First.
Kouyuu swallowed to try and wet his tight, dry throat.
Had Seiran always left his swords and ceremonial armour in the kitchen when they’d eaten there before?...
Then he blanched as he heard the latest guest arrive.
Ohgodsno,herecomesReishin-
As Shuei smiled faintly in amusement at Seiran’s antics and attempts at intimidation, he noted that his husband had paled at the sound of the outer door opening and closing as Shouka-his new father-in-law, he reminded himself-went to welcome the latest invitee.