Chapter 2 One

It was a stormy night. The snow crystals fell from the grey-black sky and coated every house and everything in its thick blanket of whiteness. The trees danced with the howling wind as the sky darkened.

I sneezed and rubbed my hands to warm my cold palms. I wanted to wrap myself in a thick duvet but I had to look after my father as well.

Father coughed and I placed another warm cloth on him while the two wives sat both sides of him, praying. Worry and fear carved on their faces as his body shook when he coughed again. Big black bags appeared under father's eyes and his lips felt dry. The pain he felt certainly was great as his face twisted. He was suffering from an internal disease and day by day, he had been having trouble breathing. It had always happened whenever the temperature went down. But this time, it was intense.

He had many injuries from the last war of two great powerful countries and it had become a life-threatening call for him. The great warrior that my father was, becoming weak. Slowly his body could no longer tolerate the cold.

One of my father's superiors had informed us that they had called for a physician from out of the state. He would come and cure him. He wasn't famous but for a physician-it was rumoured-he was great. Apparently, Father's friend heard about the person from another one of his colleagues. That person cured his son's life from a dangerous illness. So maybe he could cure father too.

Father didn't reject the offer and asked them to call for him.

A few days later, father's superior informed, the man-the physician-doesn't travel. But my father said he would give him anything he wanted. Of course, after serving his nation, father had enough wealth to buy anyone. The last war might have cost him danger but he became a hero. Everybody respected him and would kiss the floor he walks on.

After a week of negotiations, at last, the curer agreed to father's proposal.

And today, on this stormy night, father's curer would come but he was late. Maybe he had changed his mind.

I went to the kitchen and cut the vegetables to make soup for my father. After that, I would have to make dinner as well.

I didn't get any sleep last night due to the storm and father.

After pouring the soup in a bowl I came back to his chamber. His trembling body rested under a pile of rags. He could barely move on his own as his third wife helped him to sit straight.

"I don't think he would come," father said as he coughed. Clearly, he was disappointed, his eyes becoming dull as he had started to lose hope.

"Don't worry, I am sure he caught up in the storm. After all, we had offered him anything he wanted," the first wife said as she took the bowl from me and started to feed him.

I set the small table near them as both of the wives took care of him as well as giving him hope.

As the first lady set aside the bowl on the table to wipe off the soup from father's face, the third lady took it immediately and started feeding.

The First Lady's face twisted in anger. "I was already helping him. You don't have to-"

She went quiet as soon as father glared at her. He wanted to have his dinner in peace, however, in between the crossfire of the ladies, the peace was short-lived.

The third lady was young and beautiful. She was way younger than the first lady and that was the reason, the first lady despised her. She missed the praises, the attention father used to give her. But she knew her limits and would never go against her husband. After all, my father's words were absolute.

Suddenly we heard the sound of opening our gate. Father's ears perked up and the hope once again nested in his eyes. With his unsteady feet, he went to the wooden veranda. Heavy footsteps sounded behind the door and father ordered one of his wives to open it.

The first lady went and opened the door as father's face lit up with a smile and he welcomed the guest. We all had guessed, it was the curer. Because in this bad weather no one would want to come for a visit.

"Go prepare a good dish," the third lady ordered and I nodded.

I heard father chatting with him and they headed for the front room of the house along with the young mistress and the first wife.

As I didn't had any better position in the house, my father's third wife made me do her share of works too. The first lady at least did her works herself and that was the reason I preferred her over the third lady.

But I was, after all, a burden and she didn't even care about the first wife of the house but as the first wife held the official position so she had to be careful with her tongue. However, it was an entirely different matter when it came to me.

I coughed slightly as I placed every meal on a tray and hoped the guest would like it otherwise, father would be very displeased. Although he never beat me but he would only avoid me more.

"It's getting hard to breathe. Now that the temperature has gone down, I don't think I will survive the winter," Father said and the ladies whimpered as if they would start crying any moment.

"Don't worry, Mr Inoue, I think this illness of yours is very minor. With some restrictions and proper care, you will be like just before," a thick voice said. His voice was deep and cold, and I halted just before the door. My confidence disappeared as I took a glance at the meals in my hands. He won't like any of this.

My heart thumped as I had no idea if he liked fish or not. I had prepared a very normal dinner, nothing much that would make it a feast.

"Bianka! Is that you?" The first lady shouted from inside the room as my hands shook.

"Y-yes. M-may I come...?" I stuttered as my mind went blank. What if the man would not eat because of the normalcy of it? It held my father's reputation as well.

"Hurry up now. Come in and serve the guest!" Her voice became sweet but it didn't betray the fact that she was angry.

Slowly, I entered, not looking up as I knew, if I saw their faces which had looks of disgust, I would freeze in the spot.

I set the table, carefully serving the dishes as the third wife said, "What is this?"

I froze.

"I-I thought the soup would be great as he-he came in a cold-"

"That doesn't mean you have to prepare these typical regular meals!"

I winced at her yelling as my tears welled up.

"You're acting surreal, Mrs Inoue. What she prepared, according to the cold, is great for health and it will keep our stomachs warm," the man said and I swallowed up my tears.

Strangely enough, his voice held authority as if his words were sufficient. No question should be placed before or after his words. And nobody did as after his statement everyone went silent.

"Why are you acting that way in front of our guest?" Father said to the lady with a calm voice, displeased written on his face.

The third lady lowered her head as the first lady served the two men. From her look, I could assume she enjoys whenever father scold the new wife or gave her a displeased look.

The men ate quietly and it took me great courage to take a glance at him. He had a kimono and his long raven hair cascaded down to his back. His shoulders were broad and strong as if he was a warrior. As he sat near father, I could only see him from his behind.

After they finished he said, "I'll have to examine you now."

While I cleaned the table he sat near the table and there was an urge to see his face. From his voice I could gather he was younger than father and not too old to call him a physician. Our local physicians were all old or same age as my father. He must be excellent at his work as my father's friends suggested his name.

There was something about his presence that my body fidgeted as I neared him to take his plates. I could hear his deep breaths and his masculine aroma filled my nostrils.

I gulped as I held my breath. Taking the plates, I dashed to the kitchen. My heart beat loudly inside my ribcage and I didn't know why. Maybe I hadn't had my supper at lunch.

That must be the reason. Believing it, I prepared meals for the wives and heard the man saying to both of the ladies to wait outside.