Frippery

Requiem of the Moth S03 C02

“Master left early this morning.”

Usira runs a hand through his combed, partly braided hair. It’s been three days since the proposal and he hasn’t seen a whisper of Yun. The puppet twins are in and out of his living quarters. Usira suspects Zhiva in particular has been instructed to attend to his needs as she is the one to serve his meals, lay out his clothes, and, more often than not, answer his questions. “When will he be back?”

“Apologies, I do not know.”

“I don’t mind waiting, not at all. Not like I’m doing anything else anyway,” he mutters to himself. In the meantime, Zhiva lays out breakfast on the tea table by the fireplace. After three days, Usira is still in awe at the luxury the clans enjoy: candied flowers and root vegetables arranged on a silver plate, steaming ginger tea, poured from a cast iron pot into delicate glass cups.

As he’s chewing his last bite, there’s a knock and a small but sturdy woman wearing the ice blue of tailors bustles in, covering the sofa and cushions with heaps of clothing fabric. She bows, takes one critical look at him and all but commands: “Stand, please.”

Usira is startled into obeying and she takes out a fine knotted rope with which she proceeds to measure his height, the length of his legs, his arms, the breadth of his shoulders, his waist, chest, neck, and the Moth knows what else. Her movements are so fast, so efficient, that he loses track of the rope. He looks at Zhiva. “Has my future bonded booked the best tailoring drip house in the city to attend to me today?”

“He has.” Oh, he knows Zhiva cannot project emotion but her voice still sounds too serene for his tastes.

“Yet he hasn’t deigned to grace me with his presence to explain or supply advice. I understand,” he says to no one, certainly not the puppet.

“What manner of garments shall the lord be needing?” the tailor asks.

Usira doesn’t know anything about clan fashion—only that none of his moth catcher robes will suffice. “Everything, I suppose. I’m not a lord though, no need to be so formal.” Not yet.

She blinks. “Apologies but the honourable Noe Yun has neglected to mention what status the lord will be occupying. The garments will need to be adjusted accordingly, you see.”

Usira is dumbstruck. What else is there besides future bonded, bonded and all the other synonyms that escape his memory at the moment?

Yun chooses that exact moment to stride in and decree: “Usira will be my consort, not my equal partner.” Without looking at Usira, he adds: “If I named him as heir to my titles and possessions, they would murder both of us in our wedding bed, if not earlier.”

Usira stares at Yun who seats himself at the corner desk and takes out some papers as if he were alone in his office. How easily he says words like heir and wedding bed! No doubt he has thought long and hard about this latest scheme. Now that Usira is rested and has been bored for drips on end, he has a million questions burning on his tongue. The tailor is still here, however, holding various fabrics up to his chest, tilting her head, clucking under her breath. Everything she has brought is white and silver—clan colours.

Never again, Usira realises, will be wear the moth catcher lavender of his drip house. White and silver are to be his colours, signalling his allegiance to a clan he will be tied to for the rest of his life. A clan that doesn’t welcome him.

All he can do is stand there, ball his fists and stare poisoned needles at Yun, who keeps scribbling. Eventually, the Vessi stands, wanders over to the tea table and picks at the snacks Zhiva laid out after clearing the empty breakfast plates.

He barely lifts his hand before the puppet slides a cup of hot tea into it. Despite his frustration, Usira is impressed. He’s rarely witnessed Yun interacting with his puppets in an everyday environment, outside his quarters they merely act as bodyguards or couriers. It’s a surprisingly intimate sight.

“This is the sort of information I should know,” he says to Yun, who’s still not looking at him, and gestures—at the richly appointed quarters, the crackling fire, the tailor, everything. “I’m not used to this. Everything you’ve absorbed as a young child, I need to be taught. Now.”

Yun savours his tea, staring at the wall. “You’ll have tutors.”

“What I need,” Usira snarls and stops when Yun looks straight at him. What I need is you.

“Do you understand how busy I am? Patience.” He sets the cup on its saucer and strides out the door.

Usira wants to scream. Instead he is forced to answer the tailor’s questions about accessory preferences and complementary colours. When she finally leaves, he indulges in another cup of fortifying ginger tea and sits by the fire. “The letters, please,” he asks Zhiva.

Yesterday, Melyi surprised him by striding into his Noe quarters as if he owned them. Ithreyesh would give Usira a chance, he said, with Melyi serving as his personal contact. Soon you will start receiving invitations from clan members, he advised. Carefully consider each and every one of them. If there are any names you’re not familiar with, investigate them. You shouldn’t rush your replies, take a few days at least. Accept those that are known to enjoy gossip, they are the most likely to respond to well-placed questions. Cultivate your relationship with them over the next few twists. They will be your best teachers.

It’s true, Yun isn’t known for his social graces. He’s considered a maverick, admired and feared for his puppetry and the way he has been accumulating influence. Likely he doesn’t get many invitations at all.

With shaking fingers, Usira unfolds the first letter and reads. Pai Rilan of the fine arts Pai clan, known for her salons bringing together artists of all kinds, be it painters, sculptors, or architects, with wealthy patrons. Hers is a familiar name. The Pai clan, Melyi has told him, has stolen something of ours that we want back. It’s a manuscript, loosely bound in red bat leather. It was supposed to be released through a Pai-owned publisher but they confiscated it before it left the house. Destroyed all but one copy.

Why was it confiscated? You don’t need to know. Where do the Pai keep it? Find the answer and Ithreyesh will welcome you as a member.

True, Usira has collected information on clan members to ease negotiations before. He has never spied on them though. It leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue but what can he do? Beginning with Pai Rilan’s, he sorts the invitations into three piles: accept, decline, and need more information. Zhiva brings paper and writing utensils, and Usira gets to work composing his first reply.

He will tackle this like he would a large-scale Blackvein Moth hunt: by gathering information, devising a strategy, and executing, all the while learning on the go and adjusting to changing conditions. His mouth quirks. Why not think of the clans as a new moth species he is hunting?

Only you can help us get that manuscript back. Don’t waste our trust. Indeed, Usira is hunting again—only this time his client is Ithreyesh, the clans his prey.

Author Notes

I haven’t put much thought into this but I imagine the Sedrivar use woodblock printing for mass-produced books and cheap illustration, like woodblock prints in the Japanese Edo period (1603-1868). Japan had a fascinating publishing culture during that time, which I touch on briefly in my article Tea and The Art of Social Climbing. Handwritten manuscripts were in use alongside printed books. They could be book copies for personal use, journals, commonplace books, primers etc.

In rural communities, then, texts might be found in manuscript copies rather than the printed editions that were easily available in cities, and this was as true of Sinological texts as it was of light fiction and even primers¹.

Banned books were often circulated as handwritten manuscripts, which might give you an idea what that Ithreyesh manuscript contains and why the Pai didn’t want it published…

On the high end, manuscripts could include religious works commissioned by temples or decorative works commissioned by the clans. Imagine lavishly decorated tombs of family genealogy, illustrated family trees in the style of the Book of Kells… The exhibition I visited in Dublin’s Trinity College was so inspiring, I want to write a short story or three about book culture in Yun’s and Usira’s world now.

1. Kornicki, Peter F.: Manuscript, Not Print. Scribal Culture in the Edo Period, in Journal of Japanese Studies 32/1, 2006, p.23-52