Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox

By Forthright

Tsumiko inherits an ancestral home, a vast fortune, and a butler who isn’t exactly human.

Humanity is rocked by the Emergence of a people who call themselves the Amaranthine. They are our myths and legends come to life. Neither human nor animal, yet embracing qualities of both, the inhuman races inspire both

• Language: English
• Publisher: Twinkle Press
• Release date: Feb 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781631230592

Book preview

ameranthineseries-bk01-cover-FINAL-EBOOK.png

because I like it when you smile

Amaranthine Saga, Book 1

Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox

Copyright © 2018 by FORTHRIGHT

FORTHWRITES.COM

ISBN: 978-1-63123-059-2

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or shared in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the author. Which is a slightly more officious way of saying what I’ve always asked. Play fair. Be nice. But by all means, have fun! ::twinkle::

TWINKLE PRESS

Table of Contents

Junior Partner

Last Wish

Inherent Rights

Tend to Our Amaranthine

Rare Soul

Generational Bond

First Kiss

Reorientation

Stately House

Circulating Letter

Michael’s Plan

Into the In-between

Urgent Matters

Sly as Foxes

Permission Granted

Drifter

Brave and Brazen

Resistance Effort

Left Wanting

Trappings of Gentility

Lovelorn

Beachcombers

Across the Water

Found Out

Bloody Bindings

Nestle

Tactical Retreat

Hand-Me-Downs

Clan Crests

Underestimation

Stiff Upper Lip

Long Road

The Uppington Smythes

Behind Closed Doors

Greening the Chapel

Lady of the House

Meanwhile

Unreported Incidents

Brindled Mahogany

Not in Textbooks

Beware of Dragons

Change of Scenery

The Good Doctor

Flurry of Flower Petals

Drowning

Representations

Fool’s Errand

Cold Case

Fallowfield

Unnatural

Latch

Fox Dreams

Survival Rate

Wolf on the Prowl

By Definition

Kinship

Nest and Nestle

God Have Mercy

Beasts

Emergence

Counting Costs

Four out of Five

All Knowing

Risk and Dare

Gingko Grove

Ephemera

one

Junior Partner

There must be some mistake. Tsumiko finished the solicitor’s letter of introduction and rechecked the name of the firm embossed on the heavy gray envelope—Watanabe, Wada, & West. "I’ve never even heard of Eimi Hajime-Smythe."

"She is … was your father’s grandmother’s half-sister. The firm’s junior partner turned to his yawning briefcase. If you’d like proof, I can produce the family registry."

Yes, please. Tsumiko dropped the letter on the table between them and curled cold fingers inside the bunched sleeves of her school cardigan. Mr. West, I don’t understand why I should inherit anything. There must be other, closer relations?

Quite true, but none of them met Mrs. Hajime-Smythe’s particular requirements.

Tsumiko didn’t like empty answers. They tasted too much like lies. Are you from the same place as the last people?

Mr. West stopped sifting through file folders. Can you be more specific?

Tsumiko slid to the edge of her seat and pointed a toe so her loafer touched the marble floor. The parlor still smelled faintly of lemon oil, and pristine beveled windows scattered prisms on dark wood and white walls. In all her years at Saint Midori of the Heavenly Lights, Tsumiko had only ever entered these guest rooms in order to clean them. However, this was the second time in six weeks that Sister Magdalene had summoned her from class because someone was looking for her.

There were two women. One was grim and gray, and the other was … strange. While the old woman had asked questions about Tsumiko’s hometown and extended family, the one with fiery red hair had merely stared at her over the top of steepled fingers. Tsumiko would never forget those hungry green eyes.

Yes, said Mr. West. They were here at our request.

Why?

Research. We needed to make sure that you met Mrs. Hajime-Smythe’s particular requirements.

Tsumiko was losing patience. With a tight little smile, she asked, Can you be more specific?

He had a pleasant laugh. I promise I’ll explain everything, Miss Hajime, but it really should be done in an orderly manner.

Maybe I should call Sister Naomi. Although the sisters of Saint Midori’s had granted Mr. West a measure of privacy for this meeting, they’d left a guardian outside the door.

The lawyer raised his hands in surrender. Lady Nona was here under escort because she can sense what normal humans cannot.

You make her sound like a psychic.

Mr. West laughed again. No, no, nothing like that. She needed to check on the state of your soul.

The antique pendulum clock on the far wall made the only sound for the better part of a minute.

Tsumiko fiddled with the tiny golden cross on her necklace. I’m not sure I understand. They didn’t ask me about my faith or beliefs or morals. In point of fact, the women had neither explained why they’d come, nor why they needed to leave so quickly.

Distant bells sounded, signaling the end of second period.

With a slow shake of his head, Mr. West said, Perhaps we should back up. You have—of course—heard about the recent revelations regarding the inhuman races.

Tsumiko took a moment to ponder the sentence he’d reeled off with such assurance. Saint Midori’s was a very closed-off community. Yes, she’d heard the staff whispering in the corridors, and her younger brother’s most recent letter had been full of fanciful stories about a boy who could turn into a bird. But the sisters took their duty to their students quite seriously, and that meant protecting them from outside influences.

Do you mean …? Tsumiko searched her memory for the right phrase. Are you involved with the outbreak?

Mr. West grew solemn, but his tone remained mild. "That’s the first time I’ve heard the Emergence called that. Aren’t you following the media coverage? It’s been headline news for months."

We don’t have television.

Phones? Tablets? Surely you have internet access.

Distractions from a life of simplicity and study are banned.

Incredulity plain on his face, Mr. West said, That could prove problematic. It’s too much to explain in the time we have, but I’ll pull together the information you’ll need and send it … unless … would they prevent the documents from reaching you?

Tsumiko couldn’t figure out why the lawyer seemed so concerned. She wasn’t a prisoner. And students knew which rules they could bend. For instance, one of the cooks kept a television in her room. She’d let the older girls visit in the evening to giggle and swoon over romantic dramas. They weren’t completely cut off; they were simply encouraged to live with different priorities.

Finally, she said, This is a school, Mr. West. Learning is encouraged.

He accepted that with a nod and made a note for himself. Please place the highest priority on learning about the Rivven.

The inhuman races.

Yes.

Why?

Lady Nona was a member of their fox clans, and her companion was a reaver.

Could that have been the source of the strangeness she’d felt? Tsumiko said, They both looked human.

"Many of the Rivven are able to take human form. Reavers are human. For millennia they’ve served as gatekeepers and guards, protecting the boundaries between us and the Rivven races. He pulled a hefty stack of papers from his briefcase, As I said, it’s too much to explain now. We need to finalize your inheritance."

Tsumiko frowned. You still haven’t told me why I’m the one to inherit.

Mr. West held up a pale blue envelope. This is a personal note from Mrs. Eimi. Sign this first page, and I can release it to you. At her continued hesitation, he resorted to wheedling. I’m quite certain this will shed more light on the situation.

She could see her full name written in dark blue ink. Her distant relative had composed a letter before she died? Tsumiko grudgingly accepted the pen and scanned the release form. "Will this make you my lawyer?"

In essence, yes.

With something as simple as a signature, she’d make a formal claim on this man’s time and attention. Daunting. But Mr. West didn’t make Tsumiko uneasy. Trusting herself as much as him, she signed her name.

He took back the paper, added his own signature, the date, and even the time. Pressing an official-looking seal with a floral crest to the bottom corner of the page, he slid it into an envelope.

Thank you, he said with satisfaction. As a member of Watanabe, Wada, and West, legal representatives of the estate that now rests in your hands, please rest assured that I am at your service.

For a moment, Tsumiko thought she’d been tricked into signing away her right to refuse. But her pique never made it to fit status. Yes, she wanted more information, but no one in their right mind turned down a bequest, even if it came from an unknown source.

Yet the terms had changed. Up until now, Mr. West had only spoken of an inheritance. Tsumiko had assumed that meant money. "Did you say estate?"

Yes. And we’ll go over those particulars next—house, properties, investments, and other extensive assets.

She watched him riffle through the small mountain of paperwork she’d probably have to sign.

Mr. West continued. I have yet to pay a personal visit to Stately House—the primary Hajime-Smythe estate—but I understand that it’s quite old, quite large, and … unique. I’ll make the trip the day after tomorrow to ensure that everything is in readiness for your arrival.

I need to go there?

"You need to live there, he corrected. I will review the particulars with you, but first …!"

Tsumiko took the blue envelope with both hands and studied its seal. Hydrangea blue wax held an impression of a five-petaled flower with a starry center. The single sheet of paper inside was delicate as tissue and dated three weeks ago.

A quick peek at the end of the letter confirmed that the sender was Lady Eimi Hajime-Smythe. Returning to the first lines, Tsumiko’s pulse quickened.

So they’ve found you at last. I knew there must be another reaver in the family . . .

TWO

Last Wish

Food held no appeal for Argent, but Sansa pressed a porcelain cup into his hands. When its tepid contents left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, he sniffed belatedly at the dregs. One of her medicinal teas? Or perhaps she’d finally had enough of his airs and poisoned him.

Yet Argent clung to life.

Longevity might be considered a mark of his race’s superiority, but death wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. He was accustomed to outliving his tormentors. But this time was different. There was no triumph in his continued survival. All he felt was ... empty.

Sansa quietly refilled his cup.

The brew reeked of bark and bitterness. Are you trying to kill me?

Without batting an eye, the woman said, If that was my goal, I would use surer methods.

Not exactly an idle threat. He’d been inside the garden shed she’d repurposed as an armory. Once.

Adopting a maternal tone, Sansa said, Drink your tonic, Argent. It will help.

He clucked his tongue, a very human response, but useful in communicating derision. Argent relied heavily on an arsenal of nonverbal attacks since—for the most part—he couldn’t be held accountable for words left unspoken. After centuries of testing his bonds’ limits, he’d learned that while obedience was necessary, nothing compelled him to be nice about it.

Sansa held her ground until he tipped back the second dose. Taking the cup, she lingered long enough to touch his elbow, a signal borrowed from his people. Like all reavers, she was fluent in the subtleties of Amaranthine body language.

He wearily accepted her promise of support with a nod and excused himself. The day dragged by as he moved automatically through his duties, as meticulous as ever. But without direction, without thanks, and without a scrap of satisfaction.

Eimi’s death left him bereft of ties, but if this was freedom, it was a paltry one. The seal on his soul was very much intact, and it was punishing him. If left much longer, the constricting bonds would kill him. An ignominious demise for one of his lineage, but it would end this maddening cycle of servitude.

Yet his instincts rebelled. He couldn’t protect Eimi anymore, but she’d asked him to watch over the other members of Stately House. Her last wish. His solemn duty.

Rubbing at his aching forehead, Argent struggled to keep himself together until Michael returned with a new mistress. Her arrival would signal an end to his current role. Eimi’s Argent had played the part of family butler—genteel, attentive, restrained. And as a member of her household, he’d known something akin to peace. But her fleeting existence had ended, and he would fall into another’s hands.

Each new mistress—or more often, her master—had forced him to comply with their ideas and ideals. He hardly knew himself anymore. It was only in the brief span of time between the old and the new that he allowed himself to remember.

Historically, the gap was a matter of hours, but he’d been moping around Stately House for nearly a month. It was the first time since the first time that he’d been permitted to grieve. Argent wasn’t sure if it was for Lady Eimi or for himself.

She’d met death with a measure of grace, a sigh of thanks, and soft assurances that his future was secure. Nothing would have to change.

Argent had held her hand and reassured her with similar lies.

Eimi was by far the kindest mistress he’d served, but she was blind to the falsehoods she told herself. Older and wiser by many centuries, he was in a position to understand that everything would change because nothing had changed. Bound to the whims of his next mistress, he would be remade as her Argent. Again and again and again.

Unless Michael’s plan worked.

THREE

Inherent Rights

Less than a week after their meeting, Mr. West presented Tsumiko with a thick packet of printed articles, a new phone, and a chauffeur. Staring out the window of a long, black sedan, she watched the landscape shift with every passing kilometer. Fields, orchards, pastures, paddies—utterly unlike the urban crush that surrounded Saint Midori’s.

The sky was larger here, and Tsumiko kept a wary eye on it, very much the mouse who must beware of hawks.

Did you grow up in Keishi? asked the driver. His Japanese was perfect, but his name and his green eyes suggested foreign parentage, if not provenance.

Yes.

He tried again. This is a big change for you.

Yes. She could feel his concerned gaze in the rearview mirror.

An unwelcome change?

Tsumiko toyed with her necklace. I don’t really know, Mr. Ward. Everything’s happened so quickly.

"Please, call me Michael. Ward is really more of a job description than a surname."

You’re a … ward? That brought up unsettling images of wardens and prisoners. I thought you were Aunt Eimi’s driver.

That’s certainly why I’m behind the wheel, he said lightly. But in a household as small as ours, having more than one skill set is essential. My wife Sansa served as Mrs. Eimi’s cook as well as her nurse.

It will be the three of us, then?

"If you’ll pardon my asking, Miss Hajime, did you read all the information from your solicitor?"

I didn’t make it very far through the legal documents. The wording is difficult. Extracting the blue envelope from Lady Eimi, he held it up for Michael to see. This one was simpler, but just as confusing.

Oh? Maybe I can help. Which part gave you difficulty?

The part about flowers. She shook her head. I don’t know anything about gardening.

Michael’s brows drew together. The grounds are extensive, but you needn’t worry. We employ a gardener.

Is that so?

Perhaps if you were to read the pertinent passage aloud …?

Tsumiko unfolded the letter she’d read so often she could have recited it from memory. Running her finger along delicate rows in blue ink, she found the section that puzzled her most. Tending to our Amaranthine—my most precious bequest—falls to you.

Expression clearing, Michael said, I understand. Mrs. Eimi isn’t referring to flowers, miss. She means Argent, your butler.

A gardener and a butler—bringing the household tally to five. Is he a foreigner? I’ve never heard of a country called Amaranth.

Michael slowed, turning off onto a road that was barely wide enough for the sedan. You know about the Emergence of the new species? At her quick nod, he continued, "They’re not actually new of course, but every nation has been working for the last six months to raise awareness about the so-called Rivven races."

Yes. Mr. West explained that much.

For starters, Rivven is a name coined by an American reporter, and it stuck. It’s a play on words, I suppose, since we are reavers.

Tsumiko leaned forward. You’re a reaver?

That’s right, miss. A fifteenth-generation reaver, ward class, originally from England. He met her gaze in the rearview mirror. I’ve lived at Stately House most of my life.

Are you a relative of Aunt Eimi’s husband, then?

No, miss. In a way, I was also chosen to ‘tend to our Amaranthine.’ You see, while they’re not offended by the Rivven label, these ancient people refer to themselves as the Amaranthine.

My butler isn’t human?

He is not.

And my aunt is giving him to me.

She has.

Because I’m a reaver.

Michael laughed. You most certainly are.

Tsumiko shifted uncomfortably in her seat. I thought one of the reasons the inhuman races came forward was so that they could be recognized as citizens of our planet, with the same inherent rights as humans.

Yes. Michael’s smile faded. The leaders of the Five Clans are doing everything they can to establish a place for the Amaranthine. Peace treaties, alliances, registries, amendments, and bills of rights are being negotiated at the international level.

Because the Amaranthine are people.

They are.

I don’t understand.

Which part, miss?

Tsumiko would have thought it obvious. "How can I inherit a person?"

FOUR

Tend to Our Amaranthine

Argent sat stiffly in his chair, waiting for the call he couldn’t avoid, let alone resist. Not long after sunset, a soft knock interrupted his brooding.

It’s only me.

Enter.

Michael eased through the door and put it at his back. Your new mistress is here.

Was that today? It had entirely slipped my mind.

Are you all right?

That remains to be seen. Argent gripped the arms of his chair more tightly, trying to hide his hands’ faint tremors. Well?

I’m optimistic.

Yes, you are. Disgustingly so.

The reaver crossed to the room’s narrow bed and sat at its foot. We had a nice long talk on the drive up. From what I’ve gathered, she was squirreled away in some religious school. Miss Tsumiko seemed half-convinced that she’d become caught up in an elaborate hoax.

A stupid woman is almost as bad as a shrewd one. Argent’s curled lip exposed one gleaming fang. Worse if she simpers.

Michael chuckled. I don’t think she’s the simpering type. But her ignorance may work in our favor. Sansa and I can—I don’t know—train her in, I suppose. We won’t let her misuse you.

"Entirely too optimistic."

Lady Eimi did try to find a suitable match. Maybe you’ll like her.

Argent knew better. With a sigh, he asked, When?

Sansa is helping her settle in, so I’ll wait until morning to confirm her inheritance.

A pretty euphemism.

It is. I’m sorry. Michael stepped closer. Lady Eimi has been gone for nearly a month. You must be ebbing low, and that’s not a good place to be in for a binding.

Argent glowered at the floor.

Let me help you.

If you must.

Michael fiddled with the catch of a beaded bracelet as he knelt before Argent. Unwinding it from his wrist, Michael’s power washed outward, filling the room with an essence few humans possessed … and few Amaranthine could resist.

I’m the one who should be groveling at your feet, Argent muttered, claws biting wood.

I won’t tell if you don’t. Michael leaned forward, signaling his willingness. This would be easier if you grabbed hold.

He growled.

Don’t be shy, the man coaxed. We both know you need this.

Argent’s token resistance dwindled away, and he sagged into Michael’s embrace, barely suppressing a shudder as he basked in the unique radiance offered by a reaver’s soul. It wasn’t enough to satisfy the requirements of his bond, but it did help. He dragged the man closer, tightening his hold.

Michael slid his arms around Argent’s back and offered soothing pats. Wish I could do more.

You do more than a proper captor should.

Because we’re friends, said Michael. I’ve been in charge of you since I was fourteen. Though for all intents and purposes, I’ve been yours since I was three.

Mine? Argent snorted. You are my keeper, and I have nothing.

Surely the past few decades have given you some basis for trust?

Foolish boy.

Michael’s voice came just as softly. I won’t let her hurt you.

An impossible pledge. Argent had been through this too many times. By now, he should be numb to the humiliation. But in the end, the bond would rip him raw and debase him further. Nothing could spare Argent from the morrow’s pain, but he could spare Michael.

He’d been hiding the hurt for centuries. What was one more lifetime? I will be fine.

FIVE

Rare Soul

He hated her immediately.

Sansa had served the girl breakfast out on the veranda. She was sitting in Eimi’s favorite chair, taking in the breathtaking view of the sea, and Argent despised her for trespassing on their grief.

Tsumiko Hajime was everything one might expect from a big-city schoolgirl. Even her uniform remained intact—pleated skirt, wide collar, and a drooping cardigan stitched with a school logo. Argent muttered, "Is she twelve?"

Michael made a soft noise of protest. She may be petite, but she’s a woman of twenty.

And still in middle school? She must be backward.

Behave.

Not unless she makes me.

Michael spared him an exasperated look, then opened the veranda doors. Good morning, miss. Did you sleep well?

Yes, thank you.

And then her eyes swung his way, and Argent waited to see what kind of life she would damn him to.

She slid from her chair and offered a small bow. How do you do? I’m Tsumiko Hajime.

Michael smoothly supplied a kinder introduction than Argent would have offered. Miss Hajime, this is Argent. He’s your butler, so he manages the household. Argent, this is your new mistress.

Taking refuge in the ostentatious propriety to which he’d been trained, Argent executed a neat bow.

Tsumiko searched his face, but not with the greed of a conqueror surveying her spoils. If anything, she seemed to be looking to him for some sign that she was welcome. She would not find it. Not from him.

Except.

By the ninth tail, her soul was staggering.

Eddies of raw power twirled like ribbons around her body, lazily looping back, not quite contained, but restrained. He wondered what would happen to all that potential if she were angry, afraid, or at war. Fully unleashed, this girl might be the most powerful reaver he’d ever encountered. With enough training, she could rival the heads of the Five Clans.

How could she be untrained?

Anyone with a glimmer of potential was snatched young and raised in the In-between’s world of wards and warriors. But this girl was no common reaver. Surely, she was a beacon. And untouched. Argent’s mouth watered, and he touched the tip of his tongue to a fang. In millennia long past, his kind would have feasted on such a soul and known satisfaction.

This new mistress should have gathered up her power to fend him off, but the little fool showed all the innocence of a child lost in the wood—too trusting and deliciously vulnerable. Her excess trailed outward, brushing up against his darkness.

Had no one warned her about predators?

Oh, how he would have loved to toy with her in the old way and teach her fear. But those were pretty daydreams, made possible by the feeding Michael had pressed on him the night before. Without it, Argent would have been on his knees, drunk on this childish woman’s dazzling soul.

Here, miss. This has been passed down through many generations—very old, very reliable. Michael brought out a strand of amethyst beads much like his own. It’s important that you wear this at all times.

What does it do? she asked.

The bracelet is a ward. In a sense, it hides you.

Why do I need to hide?

With a low chuckle, Michael said, "Trust me, miss. All manner of Amaranthine will be attracted to a soul like yours. And we don’t want that kind of attention."

As soon as Michael locked the clasp, the thick haze of power vanished. To Argent’s utter mortification, he missed it … wanted more … might even beg for it. And with that knowledge came fury. Because when the time came to renew the bond, it would take. And strongly. Because he wanted another taste of this girl’s rare soul, even if the cost was another lifetime of obedience.

SIX

Generational Bond

Tsumiko wasn’t accustomed to staring at people; she had no wish to be rude. But the person before her was strange in wonderful ways. The articles Mr. West had passed along often extolled the beauty of the inhuman races, and they hadn’t exaggerated. High cheekbones, pointed ears, silver hair framing a lean face, and icy blue eyes with cat-slit pupils—her new butler had an otherworldly aesthetic. Formal Western attire only added to his elegance.

But he was glaring. And that worried her.

Are you sure we should go through with this? she asked Michael.

The sooner, the better, he said. I’ve reviewed all the forms, and it won’t take long. I also prepared an inner room, so we’ll have a bit of privacy.

There’s no one else here. Tsumiko darted a glance in Argent’s direction, but the butler’s stoicism gave away nothing.

It’s safer. These things are usually done under lock and key. Michael hustled them into a parlor with draped windows. And Argent will need to … well … as you can see.

Tsumiko followed the man’s gaze and immediately averted her eyes. Why is Argent undressing? she asked in a tight voice.

Only partially, Michael said, all apology. To uncover his blaze.

Which is …?

In simple terms, a focal point for his essence. Many consider the mark secret, even sacred. That’s why we’re giving Argent as much privacy as possible. Michael’s rambling explanation drew up short, and he quietly added, You and I will be the only humans left who’ve seen it.

If it’s so private, why show me at all?

Skin-to-skin contact is necessary.

Tsumiko stood rigid, inwardly berating herself for not asking the kinds of questions that would have prepared her for silvery hair, icy hauteur, and bared blazes. None of the paperwork she’d signed had hinted at intimate contact.

She was still bothered that when she accepted the Hajime-Smythe fortune, she’d become more than an employer for one Amaranthine butler. She’d inherited him, as if he were a thing rather than a person. He was a Hajime family heirloom, and a well-loved one. Lady Eimi’s personal letter had carried her final wish.

Tending to our Amaranthine, my most precious bequest, falls to you. Forgive me for imposing upon you, niece, but I must trust someone. And so I am trusting you.

Michael took her elbow and guided her to Argent, who’d laid aside coat, vest, and tie. His starched white shirt hung open. Tsumiko tried not to look, but an unexpected splash of color drew her gaze to his pale chest. Wisps and whorls of forget-me-not blue seemed to have been painted directly onto his skin. The pattern wasn’t quite a flower, yet it was as beautiful as any bloom. And it felt familiar.

Suddenly, she realized where she’d seen it before. It looks just like … But she cut herself off. If the mark was something personal, her comment might offend.

Foxfire, finished Michael. I’ve always thought his blaze resembles a wisp of foxfire.

Does that mean you’re a kitsune?

Argent snorted lightly. She had yet to hear him speak.

Michael chuckled. I’m sure that Amaranthine from the fox clans gave rise to legends of kitsune. But don’t mistake Argent for folklore. He’s quite real and in need of you.

Tsumiko slowly shook her head. I don’t think he wants me.

"Please, miss. We really can’t put this off any longer. My friend requires your touch. If we don’t renew the bond, his very life is at risk. Michael took her hand and pressed it to Argent’s chest. Can’t you feel it?"

Could she? Argent’s dislike was clear enough, but was she supposed to be able to feel something more? The skin under her hand was feverishly hot, and Argent radiated a strength that didn’t quite match his trim

Reviews for Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox

[lexilewords · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

And here we are folks, finally in my digital and physical hands is the first (of seven) books about the Rivven (aka the Amaranthine). Since the blog post that Forthy first made mention to when this arrived I have been EAGER to read.

Having had Forthy's fanfic writing in my life since my early 20s, this leap into original fiction was well done.

Echoes of familiarity will pluck at attentive fans as several pieces are adapted from her popular fics. Hisoka-sensei being the most obvious, but the story pace and the telling of it are far better indicators.

Tsumiko is passive at first - having lived her whole life in a secluded school (Saint Midori's) first as a student and later as a teacher, she had no reason to expect that would change. And yet....well fate has a way of finding ways for all of us to be useful in much more interesting ways.

Argent, both by virtue of inhabiting several of my favorite character traits as well as being who he is, was a lot of fun. Of the Fox Amaranthine clans, he is as scornful and mischievous and frustrating as he is elegant and caring and resourceful.

There is much in this Tale which is not pretty. There's a sort of...dark undertone that while never graphically shown is frequently spoken of in regards to just how far beings will go in cruelty when they have the power to do so and the knowledge its against someone powerless to prevent it.

Rape is discussed, as well physical abuses and emotional abuses. Again not graphically, but the emotional (and physical) consequences are part of the story.

While some of the world confused me, by in large I really enjoyed the world built here. Because of Tsumiko's seclusion we are introduced as she is, giving readers a chance to catch up as she has to. In some cases this is vexing - I'm still hazy on much of Amaranthine political structuring. In others it's fascinating as Forthy blended many different myths, legends, original ideas and fact to create some unique customs.

This is a slow burn story of acceptance, respect, love, and understanding. Tsumiko is not perfect nor is Argent always in the right despite his situation. They both have to learn to let go of preconceptions or expectations.

Now to await the next book...

[herenya_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Tsumiko receives an unexpected inheritance from her aunt, including an ancestral estate and a butler who isn’t wholly human.

This was… hmm, not the sort of story I was expecting, for one thing, and not always as clearly written as I needed it to be, for another. There were a few jarring moments when I had to re-evaluate my understanding of this fantasy world -- jarring because, rather than feeling like the moment was supposed to be a revelation, it instead seemed as if there should have been some earlier hint or explanation.

But it was certainly readable. It kept my interest. I’m not sure if I want to read more of this approach to explaining worldbuilding, but I suspect that if I do, I will find those stories easy to keep reading.

[anaelleg-1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

5 stars

That book is gold. Let's get the downsides out of the way first to focus on the brilliant stuff quickly.
It's a whole new world, and explanations are somewhat lacking from my perspective, or at least there isn't as much as I would've liked. There are parts and twists I didn't understand and I found that particularly irritating seeing as I love fantasy and understanding the world the author creates, not being left wondering: "what the hell just happened?" and not get an answer. However, this book is the first of the series exploring a complex world, so, really, it's a small price to pay.
Also, the romance progressed weirdly, I think. It seemed to change really quickly, at some point in the book, and not really gradually. But those are the only things I didn't like and, believe me, there is a ton to love which more than balances it out.

I read that book almost in one go. I couldn't really do that, since my eyes were closing on their own accord at 4 am, but by then I had already read 40% of the book, in a few hours. Just saying how much I loved that book and was into it.

The characters are all really interesting, and I'm only a bit disappointed that I didn't get more time to get to know them even more completely. It must be said that there are sooooo many of them and so much going on that the author can't do everything at once. Between the plot including different species of people - and sub-species in the Amaranthine -, politics, history (personal and global), romance, and characters' growth, I think she kinda had her hands full already. She managed to balance all of that, though, and I'm really glad for that.

I can't wait for the next book to be out, because it feels that I only had my first taste at this brilliant world that the author developed, and I'm craving for more. Much like Amaranthine crave a reaver's soul, actually.

[kmartin802_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Tsumiko is an orphan who was raised in a girls' school run by Saint Midori's of the Heavenly Lights. It is a life that she cherishes as she has found a purpose in taking care of the young girls and orphans who live there. When a lawyer comes to tell her that she is the heir of a great-aunt she doesn't know, she doesn't know just how much her life if going to change. She has inherited a house, a fortune, and an Amaranthine butler.

When Tsumiko learns that she needs to bind Argent to her in order to save his life, she does it. But she makes a promise to him to find a way to set him free. Argent doesn't believe her since he has faced ownership from generations of women in Tsumiko's family. But Tsumiko gradually wins him over with her kindness and sincerity. But breaking a bond that has lasted for generations is not an easy thing to do.

Since the Emergence which brought the Amaranthine to the notice of humans is only a year old, it is still a fragile situation. The Amaranthine are trying to convince the humans that they are harmless which is difficult because some kind of Amaranthine is kidnapping and impregnating young women. Unfortunately, most do not survive giving birth to an Amaranthine child. Argent has a grown, hybrid son of his own from a forced encounter with one of his owners who didn't survive the experience.

Tsumiko is a beacon which means that she overflows with the life energy that the Amaranthine covet, but she is completely untrained. Her generosity with her energy is part of what draws Argent to her. It is also the thing that makes her a target for less scrupulous Amaranthine.

I really enjoyed the creative world building in this story and the well-developed characters. The Amaranthine are fully developed and non-human characters. I liked that the story is told from both Argent and Tsumiko's point of view.