Excerpt from The Observer's novella Daughter's Desire
Okay, it looks like I gave everyone equal portions, so no one's going to fight over that. Make sure everyone returns their utensils and scrapes their bowls properly, and don't stack the dirty dishes too high. Tatsumi hates boiled eggs, so make sure he cleans his plate and doesn't try to sneak them off to anyone else. Don't let the pot burn. Is everyone displaying good table manners? Don't think there's going to be any trouble, but —
It was then that she realised the pair of hands in front of her weren't at waist level, and neither were they held out. Instead, they were up about her chest, and folded; as her mind responded to the change in circumstances, Kinu's smile gradually faded as her eyes met her mother's.
Kiyoko Ōtomo, den mother of the Ōtomo clan, wife-consort to the Champion of Keros.
"Hey, Mom." Kinu's gaze travelled from her mother's placid expression to each of the fluffy and glorious nine tails flicking in her wake, then to the noticeable bulge of her midriff, not quite hidden under her yukata. Her mother always wore that damned summer kimono, never mind that it was out of season. "It's getting cold outside, so we're having oden tonight. Want some?"
Oh, great. Dad's gone and gotten Mom knocked up again. Or maybe it's the other way around and Mom demanded Dad knock her up. Who cares? There's going to be another mouth to feed… and I'm the one who has to do the cooking.
"'Hey, Mom'. I thought I taught you better than to just spit the words out as they came into your head, young woman."
Kinu gritted her teeth, and hoped her mother wouldn't notice the set of her jaw. "Welcome home; you must be tired from travel. Would you like some dinner, Mother? May I ask why Father isn't with you?"
A palpable tension in the air, magnified manifold by masses of fox-children awkwardly pretending nothing was wrong.
"I'll decline the offer of dinner, I've just fed. Although I must ask — I smell beef in the soup stock. Where did you get that?"
Should I try to lie? No, that's futile; if she's asking, she already knows, or at least has a confident guess. Besides, I'm not going to run away from what I've done.
"I went into town and purchased some from the market there."
Kiyoko Ōtomo had never been a woman of great emotional displays in front of her many kits, ever tranquil and elegant. On this occasion, though, a corner of her lips thinned and curled downwards, and her brows furrowed ever so slightly.
"We'll speak outside."
That voice — it brooked no discussion. Kinu turned her gaze back and forth, perhaps hoping for a miracle to save her from this predilection, but when none came she snuffed out the kitchen fires with a snap of her fingers and followed her mother out. The stares of her numerous brothers and sisters wore heavily on the back of her neck as she trailed her mother's nine flowing tails out of the dining hall, an ominous portent of well, at least a thorough scolding.
Kiyoko whirled and shut the door behind her. "So, you went into the village your father calls Hawkethorne."
"I did, with an adequate disguise. I spoke with some of the people, they were friendly to even a stranger like me. Father's doing good work there. I got a few things we couldn't have acquired otherwise, without having to beg Grandmother Komari to travel to the old country for them."
"A disguise, you say. And what about the journey?"
"I had my naginata to keep me safe, Mother."
"And did you disguise your naginata as well?"
Silence. Then, quick as a whip, Kiyoko lashed out and slapped her firstborn daughter, hard enough to smack her face to the side and leave red finger-marks on her cheek. Head reeling, knees buckling, Kinu instinctively clutched her face as her ears folded against her head, stinging tears springing to her eyes.
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