Said the Spider to the Fly

He meant that, Miki realized. He really did.

Yumi elbowed Kana in the ribs before she could groan out loud. Not that Yumi thought any better of Hisahide, she was just better at hiding it. “The decorations are pretty,” Yumi told him.

“I guess they’re good enough for Miki-nee,” Kana allowed.

“And what do you say to Hisahide-dono?” Miki asked a tad too sweetly.

“We’ll be in your care!” Both girls chirped.

“If you could take them to where the ceremony is being held, please,” Miki told the owners. They gave her one final bow, and walked out of her life. Certainly, she’d see them at the ceremony, and likely out and about the town, but they were now merely the owners of one of the pleasure houses. Not the owner of the Dancing Butterfly and her pleasure house.

She turned to Hisahide. “The decorations are perfect, my lord. I can’t imagine finding anything at fault for the ceremony.”

    “Right, of course.” Hisahide nodded, but seemed to be distracted. When was the last time he’d felt this way? His late wife had been all but dragged to the altar kicking and cursing him. Perhaps ‘love’ was the wrong word for what he felt for Miki, but wasn’t it close enough? She was the closest thing he had to a true friend, and she’d chosen to stay by him.

    His voice hitched in his throat, and he leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a whisper.

Nobuhiro peered forward as Isao pulled out the infant, and back again when he saw her. It was in the eyes, the furrow to the brow, the angry pucker of lips before she loosed another howl. There was no mistaking it. Hisahide had gone and had another kid.

Then promptly set his capital on fire and died. “Poor kid.”

He folded his arms, not quite willing to take this one on as well. The Hisahide who sired her was a far different man than the one who fathered Hisamichi. Not to mention that her mother might not— Actually.

“Who’s her mother?”

    Isao rocked Hiina back and forth, her shrieks subsiding with every sway of his arms. He said nothing, answering Nobuhiro’s question with a long, slow exhale; he was getting too old for this, had been too old for it for a while.

    “Lady Ruolan.” The furrow in his brow deepened. “I think it’s likely that this was more his idea than hers. She’s...out of her depth, I’m afraid.”

Here, at least, was something familiar. The hiding away of the prize until the auctions were complete and the spoils totted out for the winner. Soon enough she may get to sit at the block instead of on it.

The owners stepped back at Hisahide’s approach, offering a bow to the Warlord (and nudging the girls to give him one, too.) Fondness touched Miki’s expression as she turned her hands to hold his own. “Breathe,” she told him firmly through lips that barely moved. No matter how small the audience, she would preform their dance to perfection.

Louder, so the others might hear, she told him, “It was hardly a wait at all, love. Truly, any time at all is worth the wait. I am sure your standards would set the most immaculate planner on edge.” She laughed lightly, though she knew it first-hand to be true. “This day will be remembered for the celebration, not the decor.” Knowing him, he’d rather it be both.

    Hisahide bowed his head obediently, breathing deep. The greatest performance of his life, and he’d nearly let himself lose control - he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

    “As if anything about today would be unmemorable! I won’t have anything less than perfection for you.” Letting go of Miki’s hands, he turned his attention to Yumi and Kana, smiling.

“We could still stop it.”

“How?”

“I dunno…. Maybe if—”

“—If you two are quite finished?” Miki sighed. Kana and Yumi quickly covered their mouths. They had been allowed to attend the wedding on a vow of their absolute best behavior. Otherwise, they would have to wait and be brought with Miki’s possessions.

One of the owners turned and said something to the girls as the procession continued. It buzzed meaninglessly in Miki’s ears. Instead of an umbrella overhead, a veil of silk hung from the stick held by the second owner of the pleasure house. Just shy of translucent, it shielded her from the sun and gazes of those few people on the streets. A slit in the fabric offered the barest view of the road to the Warlord’s residence, where most of the city had gathered.

An open invitation to even the poorest of the city’s districts. How utterly shameful of Hisahide, to force the nobility to rub elbows with the destitute. The hint of a smile eased Miki’s features. She wondered how many of the nobility who’d lain with her had told their wives of their prior acquaintance?

What a fun game that would be. To hold eye contact too long, smile too knowingly, and wait for the pieces of doubt to fall into place. She and Hisahide could make a bet of it.

“Nearly there, Miki,” the owner holding the veil told her.

Her eyes lifted, and widened. The Dancing Butterfly had entertained when the Warlord was receiving foreign dignitaries, hosting Chrysalia’s most important figureheads. Never had she seen the palace look like this. Decked top to bottom in welcome. For her.

“The bugs are loud,” Yumi complained when the noise reached them.

The other owner hid a laugh behind a hand. “Bugs? Those are the wedding guests!”

Bugs. Bugs to be caught in her web and devoured. Not just the nobility, but the common and poorest of the poor. From every walk of life. A tapestry of the entire kingdom.

She couldn’t have asked for a better wedding gift.

   “Maybe if you were busy having sex you wouldn’t have to lie about not being able to hear me.”

He was infuriatingly untroubled when Hisahide stole back his hand, perhaps thanks to the glimpse of vulnerability in the older man’s usually-rebellious disposition. Nobunaga would latch onto that and attack relentlessly until his defences were blown wide open… he didn’t even realise he was thinking this way.

Straightening his back and folding his hands over his propped-up knee, he tilted his head in interest, as if he were a bird. What he said next was no help in getting Hisahide the answers he sought; he was being as difficult as ever.

   “I find you so charming when you’re flustered.” Don’t you wonder why Nobunaga continues to forgive you, you terrible little man?

    Hisahide reddened to the roots of his hair at this, the shaky grasp on his anger falling aside. The nerve, to patronize him like he was some sort of blustering fool - didn’t Nobunaga know what he was dealing with? He was a villain, the very worst of this era, and this buffoon had the gall to speak to him like a wild monkey he’d caught in a trap!

“And I thought this place was gonna be boring.”