move for at least two years. "You're so beautiful, Naoki."
The words hurt. "It's kind of you to say so, little sister."
"You are," she replied. "Why do you listen to Mother?"
"I haven't listened to that woman since I grew too big for her to beat. It's called a mirror. But if I at least look suitable enough for a betrothal ball, leave me to my suffering and saké and go get dressed yourself. Dōmo for the help."
Haru sighed and kissed his cheek, then stepped out of the way so the servants could add scented powders and perfumes. "All I did was make certain you stood still. I'll see you shortly."
When she and the servants were gone, Naoki returned to his saké, enjoying the warm, floaty buzz that had finally settled over him, softening the sharp edges of his world. Ever so much better.
He sat on a special stool a servant had left for him, so he didn't have to deal with settling all his cumbersome layers to sit on and rise from the floor, and enjoyed his garden and saké until someone finally came to fetch him.
Setting the bottle, two-thirds empty now, aside, he rose and headed off to the front hall.
The rest of his family was already gathered, his parents in beautiful green and blue kimono, his sisters in form-fitting gowns overlaid with draping tunics open on the sides clear to their knees to show off the delicately embroidered gowns. Rare to see Mineko in such feminine dress, but even she wouldn't put on her usual airs for something this important.
Izumi looked him over critically. "Who gave you booze?"
"As if I'm stupid enough to tell you," Naoki said, resigned to the backhand he'd get later for being so impertinent and rude.
"Enough," his father, Masaru cut in before Izumi could give the scathing reply poised on her lips. He gestured sharply, and Naoki dutifully took up position roughly in the center of the cluster, his slippers ill-suited to the slick, glossy wooden floor.
Haru lifted her folded fan to her lips. "Did you see the gifts that Esposito-don sent?"
"Esposito-don sent gifts?" Naoki asked, and looked to where she pointed with her fan.
Most of the betrothal gifts had already been moved to a private salon for him and Selinah to open later. Last-minute arrivals were still being moved, and among them was a stack of presents lavishly wrapped in silk cloth and gold and silver ribbon. There were also several vases of flowers, most of which would be for the mothers, an old tradition but one that was still enjoyed by those who could afford something so expensive—especially since most flowers were carefully grown in hot houses, or laboriously imported, like so much else that Verona enjoyed.
"That is kind of him," Naoki said, intrigued despite himself. They'd invited him out of gratitude for saving their lives. Such circumstances did not necessitate gift-giving; that was for the more formally invited. Even if a gift had been required, something small and simple would have been more than enough.
"I'm intrigued by this fellow," Masaru said. "The whole city is abuzz with his name. Apparently he was quite the show-off last night at some party, buying drinks and food for the whole crowd, dancing like a whore paid to mingle."
Izumi pursed her lips. "That does not sound like the sort of man I want at my son's betrothal ball. Flashy gutter trash, more like."
"He saved our lives, Mama," Haru said. "We could never be so rude as to not invite him."
Naoki dredged up what little he recalled of the matter. "His title is Esposito. That's a new title. His Imperial Majesty doesn't just go around handing those out. Flashy gutter trash or not, he impressed the emperor himself before gallivanting off here to Verona."
"Enough," Masaru said. "Here is Ferro-donni."
Tension settled heavy in Naoki's gut, a shiver racing up and down his spine.
The doors were opened, the family announced, and the first through the doors was Selinah-donna herself.
Like the rest of her family, she was ridiculously beautiful, with dark gold hair swept up into an elaborate knot strung with pearls, diamonds, and sapphires. Her eyes were a delicate blue-green, legacy of her family's imperial ties. She was also dressed in layers upon layers, from darkest blue at the base to palest blue at the top, her ensemble nearly identical to his, save she wore a gown like his sisters, and around her neck was the steel-gray drape of the stregoni di ferro.
Behind her came the rest of the