Chains of Silk and Steel Ch. 01

Chapter One

Kaiyan

The Seventh Year of the Ikusa Era

War was a brutal thing. No matter how many battles he fought or victories he led, the acrid scent of blood still lingered in Kaiyan's mind. The rituals meant to cleanse the spirit left him empty--incense, wine, prayers--none of it could soothe the tension coiled deep in his bones. War was not triumph. It was a ledger of debts, lives traded for the barest of gains. Yet it was his life. One he lived well.

And soon, he would live it again.

Tonight was a brief reprieve--one of the last few nights of quiet before steel met flesh, before rivers ran red and the land reeked of burning wood and blood. He had come here, as he often did, to find some small peace before the chaos began anew.

He lifted his gaze to the horizon, painted now in the dull hues of dusk, the sky bleeding into the restless waters below. Waves crashed relentlessly against the rocks, their roar echoing in the silence of his thoughts, the salty spray cold against his skin despite the summer's night. His boots crunched over loose pebbles, sending stones plummeting into the churning waters, their impact swallowed unheard by the distance.

Renji would have his hide if he knew Kaiyan was out here alone, so close to the edge without even a sword to fend off would-be attackers. But there was a reason he'd ordered his lieutenant to remain behind--his presence would only sully the moment.

This was Kaiyan's place of solitude, a rare escape from the hollow praises of courtiers and the blank stares of the dead in his dreams.

In any case, a skilled warrior need not rely on a blade to defend himself. And if a simple misplaced step could do what hundreds of battles never had... so be it.

Wind whipped at his cloak, tangling his hair around his neck like a noose. He looked out over the waters, the moonlight glittering on the waves.

A flicker of movement caught his eye.

At first, it was nothing--no more than a pale blur against the night's backdrop. But as he rounded the bend, a figure came into focus--a woman in a tattered kosode, her long black hair streaming behind her like a banner. She stood barefoot at the cliff's edge, hands clasped in front of her as if in prayer. The thin fabric fluttered around her ankles like the wings of some creature poised to take flight.

Kaiyan stopped in his tracks, the loose rocks underfoot shifting precariously. No one came to the cliffs--not unless they were guards from the prison barracks disposing of the corpses denied the honor of burial. But even they didn't venture out at this hour. The air was too harsh, the winds too wild, and the drop--the sheer, unforgiving plummet of a thousand meters--was enough to deter even the boldest soul.

And yet, there she stood, her figure swaying faintly as if caught in the sea's trance.

For a fleeting moment, Kaiyan's blood ran cold, his thoughts returning to a childhood whisper--the Ghost in White. A pale woman who lured men to their doom with a single beckoning gesture. They said her hair flowed like silk, and her moonlit eyes could root a man in place while her blood-red lips curved into a breathtaking smile.

One kiss, and they would never fear the death that awaited.

His hand twitched at his side, instinctively seeking a sword that wasn't there. The rational part of him scoffed. Superstition was for weaker men--he had faced steel and death, and there were no ghosts in that. And yet, as he stood there watching her, unease hooked its fingers into his stomach.

It wasn't just her stillness that bothered him. It was the absence of fear. Most people would have recoiled at the wind howling around them, at the endless drop yawning at their feet. But she stood unshaken, her presence bleeding into the night--as if nothing in this world could touch her.

She looked wrong out here--too fragile for a place as brutal as this--like a figure torn from one world and dropped into another.

Kaiyan's gaze lingered on her profile, curiosity taking root where disquiet had been. She was not like the women he was accustomed to--the painted lips, rouged cheeks and kohl-lined eyes of the court. Her face was bare, untouched by powder or artifice, and at first glance, there was nothing extraordinary about her.

Yet there was a beauty in her simplicity, in the sharp line of her jaw, the soft curve of her lips, the delicate slope of her nose. Even in the dim light, he could see the solemnity in her features, the way her dark lashes framed her downcast eyes. And those eyes--though they weren't turned in his direction--held a weight that went beyond tears.

As she took a slow step forward, realization crept in, as gradual as the first droplets of rain before a storm. She intended to step over the ledge.

Kaiyan's heart tightened, his focus sharpening. He started toward her--then stopped. Too sudden, and he might startle her into doing what her body was already committed to. Too slow, and he might not reach her in time.

He eased forward, his footsteps lost beneath the waves' roar, his gaze fixed on her form. Who was she?

She couldn't be a servant--they were miles from the palace, and no errand would bring one this far. Yet her garb marked her as no noblewoman either.

There were no homes nearby, no inns, no shrines--nothing but rocks, sprawling sea, and the prison barracks tucked into the hills beyond the cliffs.

Even still, what would drive a woman toward such a desperate act? Disgrace? A debt too heavy to repay? Grief that had hollowed her out until nothing remained?

His jaw tightened, irritation flickering through his thoughts. He was not the kind of man to be distracted by ghosts--nor the women who played at being them. He should turn back, leave her to her fate, let her make this terrible choice if that's what she desired.

And yet...

"You shouldn't be here," he said, his voice calm but carrying across the distance.

He expected her to startle, to flinch, to turn, to show any sign that she'd heard him. He was close enough now to catch her if she slipped. But she remained unmoving, her gaze fixed on the waves below.

"The sea will be here in the morning," he continued, his tone gaining an edge of authority. "Perhaps you should, too."

She turned her head then, and his breath caught as her eyes lifted to his face. Even in the moonlight, he could make out their shade--not the warm brown of his people, which varied in richness if not in hue. Hers were light, bright--the color of seafoam on a winter morning.

There were tales of those with bright eyes--said to be cursed, untrustworthy. Another superstition, if you asked him--a story crafted to explain what physicians could not.

"Who are you?" he prompted when she did not speak.

He was certain now--he did not know her. Her eyes alone would have been recognized in court, whether she was a servant or of noble blood. Gossip traveled faster than wildfire; something like this would have reached even his ears.

Her lips parted, and when she spoke, her voice was soft as drifting snow, as light as wind chimes in a passing breeze--yet edged with steel.

"My name is no concern of yours."

He arched a brow, momentarily thrown by her lack of fear--or reverence. Most would have dropped to their knees at the sight of him, bowing their heads, whispering titles, offering apologies for daring to stand in his presence.

Cousin to the Emperor. Supreme Commander of the Umigen Empire's army. Lord of the palace. His name alone commanded deference, regardless of rank.

And yet, what was deference but another kind of distance? Another wall between him and the rest of the world?

But this one felt no need to lower her gaze.

Kaiyan straightened, one hand running down the front of his cloak as he considered her. "Do you always speak so freely to your betters?"

The thought amused him--how quickly her defiance would vanish if he let slip his title. She would grovel at his feet. And yet, the idea didn't satisfy him. The faintest smirk touched his mouth. It'd been a long time since anyone had dared to speak out of turn. Or denied him an answer he'd so openly demanded. And that, he found... intriguing.

He let the moment shift. With the charm that had melted countless courtiers and made even his rivals hesitate, he softened his features, his smirk curving into a disarming smile.

"It's cold," he said, extending his hand. "You're barely dressed. Come away from there, and we'll find you some warmth."

Her eyes narrowed, dropping from his face to his hand before returning to the ocean. "No. I don't think I shall."

Kaiyan's smile slipped before he recovered. It wasn't just her words--it was her complete lack of reaction to him. His beauty, his presence--neither seemed to make the slightest impression. Who was this woman?

It wasn't arrogance to acknowledge he was used to admiration. He knew what he was--a man with a face that had been the muse of many a painter, whose body had been hardened by discipline and war. Men and women alike faltered beneath his gaze, their words softening into honeyed pleas or whispers of adoration. His smile had opened doors and turned tides on more than one occasion.

But this woman... she didn't flinch, didn't blush, didn't swoon. She remained quiet, her eyes still on the horizon as though he didn't exist.

And for reasons he couldn't explain, her indifference only made him want to pull more from her.

"Do you live out here?" he asked, stepping closer. "Allow me to see you home."

Whoever she was, it seemed she would give no answer.

The wind tore through her hair, and the strands brushed his face. The faintest scent of white sage floated around him. He was close enough to touch her now, though he wouldn't. Not unless she forced his hand.

"What brings a woman to the cliffs in the dead of night? There's nothing out here but salt air and rocks."

Her lips pressed together, but her eyes remained on the water.

Frustration prodded at him. "If you're thinking of throwing yourself into the sea," he said sharply, "I suggest you reconsider."

At that, she finally moved. Her chin lifted slightly as she looked at the waves below.

"Leave," she told him. "I have made my choice."

Her words grated at him, not because they were loud or biting, but because of how effortlessly they dismissed him. He wasn't used to being rejected or ordered around--not by anyone, and never with such disdain.

But she didn't give him time to sulk.

Her arms stretched out from her sides, fingers splayed, as if preparing to embrace the void. There was a strange grace to her movements--almost serene, as though surrendering herself to the sea's call. She shifted her weight, rising onto her toes as her body pitched forward.

Panic volleyed through him.

Kaiyan lunged for her, his hand shooting out to grab her wrist just as she gave herself to gravity. Her momentum dragged him forward, and for a terrifying moment, he imagined them both going over the edge. But his footing held, and with a sharp tug, he yanked her back.

They fell together. His arm wrenched back as he pulled her close, her slight frame colliding with his. His back hit the rocks first, the impact shooting a jolt of pain down his spine--but he barely felt it. Her body landed on top of him, her hair spilling over his chest, her breath coming in quick, shallow bursts against his neck.

For several long moments, neither of them moved.

His arm remained locked around her waist, his other hand clutching her wrist tightly, even as their breathing slowed with each passing second. Adrenaline pulsed in his veins, but a new sensation crept in beneath it. She was light, fragile against him, her legs tangled awkwardly with his as the fabric of her robes twisted around her thighs. The warmth of her skin under his fingers startled him, almost as much as the realization that her kosode--thin as it was--offered no modesty.

Her eyes opened slowly, her chest heaving against his ribs, and for the first time, he saw her up close. Her lashes cast soft shadows on her cheekbones, and their darkness only made her pale, moonlit eyes seem brighter, more otherworldly. Her lips were full and an intoxicating shade of red--though no paint influenced their color.

She was... beautiful.

And as her gaze met his, that beauty burned with fire.

There was no gratitude in her eyes, no shock or relief--just anger. As though being saved was the greatest of offenses. Her body tensed, but she didn't pull away. Her indifference to their position was unnerving. She didn't tremble, didn't flush--only seethed. Even lying half-naked on top of him, she seemed entirely unaffected by his closeness.

Kaiyan, on the other hand, was painfully aware of everything. The warmth of her body, the softness of her skin, the curve of her hip pressing against his cock. Her robes had loosened, parted enough to reveal the curve of her breasts spilling over the top, and as she leaned over him, the subtle swell of her nipples became visible beneath the fabric.

He swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. His grip on her wrist tightened, and his thumb brushed against a soft, dark blotch of skin beneath the heel of her hand. A birthmark--an irregular shape, like moth wings unfurling.

"Release me," she spat, venom on her tongue.

"No," he said simply. She tried to pull free from his grasp, but he refused to break his hold. "If I let you go, you'll hurl yourself right into the sea. I'd much rather keep you here... like this." His hand slid from her waist, skimming the outside of her knee. The touch was gentle but undeniably intimate, and she stiffened infinitesimally beneath his hand.

"You had no right to stop me." A soft flush finally crept into her cheeks. Was it anger, or had something else broken through? Either way, the color suited her, deepening as his thumb swept over the soft skin of her thigh, just far enough to stir more than resistance.

His thoughts tangled, spiraling into places they shouldn't have gone. How many women had he held like this? More than he cared to count. And yet none had ever made him feel this... untethered.

Perhaps it was the months spent at war, or maybe it was the way her defiance seemed to burn hotter with every glance. Whatever the reason, the pull of her was irresistible. He wanted to take her right here with the moon as his witness.

The faintest gasp fell from her lips as his hand moved higher, slipping beneath the bunched fabric to graze up her bare thigh. She opened her mouth, the beginnings of a protest rising.

"Don't speak," he murmured, his voice thick with something deeper than command.

Her mouth snapped shut, her eyes narrowing in a way that made his blood hum. She was furious--he could feel it in the tense of her muscles, in the way her knees clenched around his hips. But she didn't move, and that lack of resistance only ignited him further.

His gaze lingered on her lips. Their full curve looked both soft and inviting. He wanted to capture them with his own, to taste the sweetness of their color, to trace their shape with his tongue.

He leaned upward, locking her wrist against his chest and pulling her down to him.

Rocks clattered below them, the sound cutting through the air like the crack of a whip.

Kaiyan's grip tightened on her as voices mixed with the stumble of unskilled boots scrambling toward them. His shock quickly gave way to frustration, and he cursed himself for having left his sword behind.

The woman's head jerked upright, and Kaiyan instinctively pulled her to his chest when she tried to rise--a protective gesture, perhaps. Or maybe he simply didn't want to let her go.

The first flicker of fear passed through her light eyes, and for a moment, he couldn't look away.

Two figures emerged from the darkness, one a stocky man with a face like a gnarled oak, the second was younger and wiry, with an air of arrogance in his puffed-out chest. Their uniforms were marked at the shoulder, a clean circle with three vertical lines running through it--the crest of the prison barracks.

Their lanterns bobbed wildly as they approached, their shadows stretching long and distorted across the rocky path.

"There you are!" the stocky man barked, his cheeks puffing with exertion. "Thought you could run forever, did you?"

The younger guard lunged forward, grabbing the woman by the arm and yanking her to her feet. A soft breath tore from her, and Kaiyan's body tensed, his fingers scraping empty air as she was ripped from his grasp.

The woman offered no resistance, her body limp in the guard's hold. Dirt clung to her cheek, and her garments were rumpled around her legs. She didn't bother to straighten herself, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond them, as if she'd already left her body behind.

"You'll answer for this at the barracks, girl," the guard hissed before turning his eyes to Kaiyan. "And you! Bedding a woman out here as if you couldn't be caught? You'll both pay for this. It'll be your head--" His words cut off with a gasp.

Kaiyan rose from the ground, straightening to his full height and brushing off his cloak.

Both guards froze, and their eyes widened in unison as the color drained from their cheeks. Simultaneously, they dropped to their knees, their foreheads pressing to the rocks.

"Lord Dorei," the elder guard stammered. "Forgive us. We... we didn't know it was you--"

"Quiet." The single word silenced them.

Kaiyan's eyes flicked between the two, then settled on the motionless woman to their right. She was looking at him now, and for the first time that night, curiosity brightened her eyes. Her brow twitched, a question briefly visible in her gaze before her expression smoothed into the same eerie calm. She looked back out toward the sea with almost perfectly feigned indifference.

"What is her crime?" Kaiyan demanded, his voice cold. "Her being with me is none of your concern. So what has she done?"

The guards exchanged a nervous glance as they got to their feet, keeping their heads bowed. The younger one spoke first.

"She's an escaped prisoner, my lord. That's all we've been told. Orders came from the barracks to bring her back immediately."

Kaiyan's gaze lingered on the woman, his lips dipping at the corners. Her composure was unnerving, even in the face of punishment. She should have been trembling, pleading, crying--but instead, she stood silent and still, her expression betraying nothing.

"And if I vouch for her?" he asked finally. His voice was calm, almost casual, but the guards flinched as though he'd raised voice.

"My lord," the first began. "We've... strict orders. It'll be our heads if we return without her."

Kaiyan's jaw tightened. He glanced over her once more--still unmoving, standing there as though she had no fear. Seeing her now, it was easy to imagine the brief flicker he'd caught when the guards arrived had been a trick of the moonlight. But he knew better.

She was a criminal, no doubt. But there was something about her that intrigued him to no end. How she'd escaped the prison in the first place, he couldn't fathom. But the punishment for that act alone would most certainly be death.

And while that inevitability may not have bothered her...

Kaiyan could feel the pull of something stirring in him--something that made him want to do more than just let them lead her away. But by right, it was not his place to intervene.

He stepped back, eyes narrowing as he considered the situation. She didn't look at him. Didn't look at any of them. And for a moment, he was unsure whether it was her bravery or her disconnect that was more maddening.

Finally, with a quiet sigh, he spoke. "Take her, then."

The guards didn't hesitate, hauling her roughly between them. They turned to him, bowing deeply with muttered thanks and hurried apologies before they moved away, boots clambering over loose rocks.

She didn't look back.

Kaiyan's eyes followed her slight frame until the darkness swallowed her from view. He didn't know her name, her story, her crime, or why she seemed so resigned to whatever fate awaited her. But as the wind carried her further from him, he knew one thing for certain: he would do everything in his power to find out.