Chapter 16: Chapter 16: The One Futon, The Freezing Warlord, and The Cockblocking Cat

The master suite of the border inn was practically an oven compared to the corridor.

Which was excellent for avoiding frostbite. But the instant the sliding shoji doors clicked shut behind us, the temperature in the room became suffocating for an entirely different reason.

Occupying exactly ninety percent of the available floor space was a single, enormous, absurdly plush futon.

It was heaped with thick snow-fox furs and heavy silk quilts. A large charcoal brazier burned cheerfully near the head of the bed, casting a warm, flickering orange glow over the blankets.

It looked like a cloud. A very romantic, deeply troublesome cloud.

"Well," I squeaked, and the word died immediately in my throat. I stood frozen in the doorway, clutching a sleepy Rin against my chest. "That is... a very economical use of space."

Akira stood rigid beside me. He had not yet removed his heavy dark indigo outer robe. He was staring at the giant futon as if it were an enemy battalion laying siege to his honor.

"I will sleep on the floor," the Demon Prince declared at once. His voice was flat with desperate determination, the sound of a man clinging to his stoic warlord dignity by a thread.

"Do not be absurd," I shot back, my practical instincts for survival instantly overwhelming my panic. "You were literally roasted by divine fire yesterday. Your spirit core is depleted, you are exhausted, and the floor is freezing wood. You will catch pneumonia, and then I will have to nurse a giant pink-haired infant."

Akira blinked down at me in mild astonishment.

Jingle. Yuki had no interest in our human distress. The fluffy white nekomata trotted straight past us, leaped onto the center of the futon, kneaded the expensive furs with his front paws, and collapsed into a purring loaf.

"See? The cat understands the situation," Rin mumbled into my shoulder. She wriggled out of my arms, her bare feet touching the tatami. "I want to sleep. I am tired of the bumpy carriage."

Rin marched to the futon, lifted a huge fur blanket, and crawled beneath it without hesitation. She wriggled until she was perfectly wedged between Yuki and the outer edge of the mattress, leaving one massive, glaringly empty space beside her.

For two people.

"Are you two just going to keep standing there?" Rin peered out at us, giving us both a deeply judgmental nine-year-old stare. "Uncle Kenji said married people sleep in the same bed. Just get in so he can put out the lantern."

My face burst into flames. "Rin! You do not listen to Uncle Kenji about anything, ever! We are taking things slowly!"

"Slowly means sleeping on the floor?" Rin asked in a dry little voice. "That sounds stupid."

Akira gave a sharp cough into his fist that did a very poor job of disguising itself. I could see the tips of his ears burning bright red against his pale hair.

"The child is alarmingly pragmatic," Akira murmured, his amber eyes glinting with sudden amusement.

"Do not encourage her," I groaned, covering my burning face with both hands. "Fine. Whatever. We are all adults here. Well, mostly. We are just going to sleep like normal, freezing people sharing body heat."

I kicked off my slippers and marched to the empty side of the futon. I slid under the heavy furs, keeping my white kosode wrapped tightly around me. I scooted as close to Rin as possible, leaving a broad imaginary demilitarized zone down the middle of the bed.

Akira watched me for a moment, then finally let out a long breath. He unbuckled his sword and rested it carefully against the wall, still within arm’s reach. He removed his heavy outer robe, leaving himself in loose dark indigo inner layers.

Then he crossed the room and lowered his massive frame onto the edge of the futon with careful grace.

Even with the imaginary boundary between us, the bed dipped immediately under his weight. I rolled slightly toward the center. I caught the edge of the mattress to stop myself, my heart pounding hard against my ribs.

Akira reached out and pinched out the wick of the oil lantern.

The room fell into darkness, save for the soft orange pulse of the charcoal brazier.

Outside, the northern blizzard wailed, the wind rattling the wooden shutters. But beneath the furs, it was astonishingly warm.

Too warm. He was radiating heat.

"Are you comfortable, Kitsune?" Akira’s voice drifted through the dark. It was a low, rough whisper that sent a completely unhelpful shiver down my spine.

"I’m fine," I lied. I was stiff as a board. "Are you? How are your burns?"

"Fading," he answered. I heard the quiet rustle of silk as he shifted. "Your... grounding... was remarkably effective. The divine energy has left my veins entirely."

"Good," I whispered.

Silence stretched between us, filled only by Rin’s soft breathing and Yuki’s deep little purr.

I stared upward into the darkness. My mind would not stop moving. Less than three days ago, my greatest concern had been stealing leftover rice from the Bureau’s kitchen. Now I was sharing a bed with the Lord of the Northern Marches, our souls were bound by ancient magic, and we were hiding from the Emperor in the middle of a snowstorm. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

"You are thinking very loudly," Akira murmured.

I turned my head. In the faint light from the brazier, I could make out his profile. His eyes were open, watching the shifting shadows on the paper doors.

"I’m just waiting to wake up," I admitted quietly. "All of this feels like a completely insane fever dream. The magic. The escape. You."

Akira turned his head on the pillow and looked at me. The amber of his eyes caught the firelight and glowed with that intense, unwavering devotion that always stole my breath.

"It is no dream," he whispered.

Then he slowly moved his hand across the space between us. He did not take my hand. He merely let his long fingers rest lightly against mine. His skin was warm, calloused from years of holding a blade, and impossibly gentle.

"I am here," he promised.

The Consort Mark on my chest pulsed at his touch. A wave of profound, absolute safety spread through my racing heart. He was not going to press. He was not going to ask for anything. He was simply... there.

"I know," I breathed, my tension finally breaking. I relaxed into the futon, my fingers curling naturally to lightly hold his. "Thank you, Akira."

"Sleep, wife," he murmured, his thumb brushing across my knuckles. "The North is safe tonight."

I believed him.

I closed my eyes, and the exhaustion of the trial and the road finally dragged me under.

CRACK!

I jerked violently awake.

My eyes flew open. The room was pitch black. The brazier had burned down to a few dying embers.

"What was that?" I whispered frantically, clutching at the fur blankets.

Beside me, the futon was completely empty.

"Stay beneath the covers."

Akira’s voice came from the far side of the room. It was not the soft, drowsy voice of my husband. It was the cold, terrifying command of the Demon Prince.

I sat upright, my eyes straining against the dark.

Akira stood utterly still before the sliding wooden shutters that opened onto the balcony. He was fully dressed, one hand resting with deceptive ease on the hilt of his katana.

But it was the air in the chamber that made panic claw through me.

It was freezing. Not merely cold, but bitter and unnatural, a chill that gnawed straight through flesh and into bone. My breath came out in thick white clouds. Frost was spreading rapidly across the tatami, crawling inward from the balcony doors.

Jingle. Jingle. Jingle.

Yuki was no longer a fluffy, sleeping loaf. The nekomata stood at the edge of the futon with his back arched high. The fur along his spine stood on end. Bright blue fire licked from his twin tails, and his turquoise eyes were locked onto the shutters.

He released a low, demonic hiss.

"Akira?" I asked, my voice shaking as I threw one arm over Rin, who was somehow still dead asleep. "Is it the Emperor’s men?"

"No," Akira said softly. Blue spirit-fire began crackling around his knuckles. "The Emperor’s hounds would have rung the perimeter bells. This crossed the wards without touching them."

CRACK.

The sound came again. It was the sound of thick ice splitting beneath enormous weight. And it came from directly beyond the balcony.

"We are deep in the North now, Kitsune," Akira said, drawing his katana an inch from its sheath. The shing of steel was deafening in the stillness. "The capital keeps its politics. My lands keep their monsters."

Then the heavy wooden shutters exploded inward.

A blast of freezing white snow burst into the room, snuffing out the last embers in the brazier at once.

I screamed and threw myself completely over Rin, shielding her from the flying splinters of wood. Yuki roared and leaped before the futon, unleashing a wave of blue fire to intercept the debris.

Through the ragged gap in the wall, the howling blizzard surged into the chamber.

But it was not only wind.

Dragging itself into the master suite came a massive, grotesque shape made of jagged black ice and rotting timber. It had no face. Only hollow white eyes glowed in the darkness, and they fixed at once upon the shining Consort Mark on my chest.

"A Yuki-Oni," Akira spat, drawing his blade fully. "An ice demon. It was lured by the residue of holy fire in your core."

The creature gave a shriek that sounded like glaciers grinding together. It ignored the heavily armed warlord entirely and lunged straight for the futon.

Straight for me.

"Not in my house," Akira roared.

The Demon Prince launched himself directly into the creature’s path, his blade erupting in a towering geyser of blue yokai fire.