Smoke in the Sun
Page 15
Suke squeezed her eyes shut. Let the tears fall as she took in a shuddering breath. “Yes, my lady.”
Satisfaction passed across the empress’s features. She glanced about the room. “Once the justice of the Lotus Pavilion has prevailed, we will speak of this matter no longer. Absolute mercy is our just reward.” Her admonition echoed throughout the space—a warning to all the other ladies present.
Anticipation writhed throughout the space. Its menace pulsed to all four corners.
The empress waited, a single brow arched.
Suke lifted her chin and rolled her shoulders back. “I admit to behaving licentiously with a soldier on the outskirts of the imperial gardens. I am undeserving of my lady’s mercy, but I beg for her pardon, and I swear on my family’s name that I will never be so untoward again.”
“Our mercy is granted.” The empress all but beamed at the trembling young woman. “You may begin,” she added almost absentmindedly.
Confusion once again took shape in Mariko’s chest. Suke’s shoulders sagged forward, and it was impossible for Mariko to tell whether it was from relief or defeat.
Another moment of utter stillness passed before a single egg soared across the room and shattered against Suke’s head. Though she clearly knew to expect it, the girl cried out in surprise and raised both her hands to defend herself, then immediately put them back in her lap. Another egg pelted toward her from the opposite side, the bright orange center sliding down the front of Suke’s white kimono. The women began to laugh amongst themselves.
All at once, eggs flew across the room at Suke, shattering over her lovely skin and silken garments. A well-aimed one struck her cheek hard, and a small trickle of blood flowed down one side of her face like a twisted tear.
Soon all the eggs had been launched.
Save one.
The empress looked at Mariko purposely, her attention drifting to the egg Mariko thought she’d concealed in her palm.
A rush of indignation passed through her body.
Why am I being asked to participate in this kind of cruel sport? It is not my place.
She did not know this girl. And Mariko could not stomach doing something humiliating to someone else. Especially a girl she suspected to be innocent of the charges. Another tense moment passed before Mariko realized exactly why she had been asked to see the empress today. This display was to be her introduction into the empress’s fold. Into the inner workings of the imperial court.
This sad display of power over an innocent young woman.
But Mariko did not have the time to contemplate the reasons why she’d been brought here. It came down to a simple decision for her.
She could act from her heart. Or from her head.
Her heart—a compass directed by emotion—pointed her toward the wrongness of the action. How it would eat away at her later if she did such a thing and caused another young woman pain.
Her mind told her what would happen if she failed the very first of the empress’s tests. She would lose an opportunity to gain footing in the imperial court, and the tasks she wished to accomplish would be forced beyond reach. Mariko glanced once more at Suke. At the silent tears the girl spilled as bits of egg dripped down her hair and clothing.
I … can’t do this to her.
But the empress’s eyebrows drew together. Her lips pursed. Her stare was a thousand daggers, each aimed Mariko’s way.
This was not about punishment. Though it was meant to be seen as an attempt to keep the morals of the young women at court in line, it came across as anything but. Pelting a girl into submission—even with something as harmless as an egg—was a rather strange show of power.
Despite the warnings of her mind, everything in Mariko’s heart rebelled against it.
This strange show of power.
The empress continued to stare at Mariko. In response, Mariko weighed the egg in her hand. Let it roll across her palm. Considered throwing it at the empress in defiance.
But now was not a moment for dreams.
“Do you feel as though I am unjust?” the empress asked coolly.
Mariko gazed up at the dowager empress’s face. When Yamoto Genmei had been younger, she must have been a beautiful woman. But time and pain and pettiness had withered her features into something unseemly, from the inside out. For the empress, every young woman she met was like the servant Isa—someone beneath her, meant for her to trample upon whenever she saw fit.
It probably began like this. With a simple choice.
Inhaling through her nose to allay her disgust, Mariko lobbed the egg hard at the pitiful girl, who dripped with enough food to feed a family for several weeks, letting it waste onto the freshly woven tatami mats. The egg landed at her knee with a splat, a pitiful finale to a sickening show.
Guilt spiked in Mariko’s stomach when Suke looked up at her, a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude passing across her features. Mariko swallowed.
She is … grateful?
“I was a silly little fool just like you, once,” the empress said to Mariko, her head canted to one side. “I thought myself principled and that my principles would carry me through my life, especially in the most difficult of times, when life did not turn out as I had dreamed.” The empress smirked to hide a sudden flash of pain. “Principles are well and good when you are young and life is at your feet, Lady Mariko. Perhaps you see me as cruel, but I am saving this girl from experiencing far more ruin in this way. And making all these young women present realize a harsh truth: men are allowed to wander in their desires.” She sniffed. “Women who wander risk their very lives.”
Mariko dropped her gaze, settling once more on the piece of unraveling straw near her knee. Back at her father’s province, she had known people like the empress. Women and men who took perverse pleasure in exacting unnecessary revenge on others. Even Ren had been guilty of similar behavior. But the empress was a strange variation of this. She believed herself better because she enacted cruelty to prevent something worse from happening.
Sparing girls public spite by encouraging it in closed settings.
Perhaps the empress was not at all like the people Mariko had known back home.
She was worse.
“Time teaches us all that we need to be better than men. But only by a thread.” The empress rose. “Cling to that thread. You will need it.” She gestured for one of the young attendants in the wings. “You will see my son now.” The empress smiled at Mariko’s kimono. Then shook her head in an approximation of regret.
“What a shame. That one was a favorite of mine, many years ago.”
Gleaming Darkly
Mariko’s hands shook. As the attendants slid open the doors, she gripped her kimono sleeves without a care for rumpling the delicate fabric. Her eyes averted, she bowed one last time to the empress, who remained on her throne, a serene smile upon her face.
Beyond the sliding doors stood Kenshin, as though Mariko’s torment was meant to be unceasing. If possible, her brother appeared even wearier than before. He looked at her face. At the frown tugging her lips and the lines creasing her brow. Then he cleared his throat, his gaze piercing, offering his sister silent advice.
In an instant, Mariko controlled her features.
Kenshin motioned for her to follow him. They turned to the left of the chamber, instead of the path to the right, which would have returned Mariko to the rooms she’d occupied since her arrival in Inako. As they walked, Mariko noted how many paces it took to move from one structure to another.
They exited the Lotus Pavilion and made their way toward a set of ornate sliding doors leading to the central courtyard. The men standing guard just outside were in simple hakama, each of their two swords slung through silk cords around their hips. Samurai, who would unsheathe their weapons only in dire circumstances, and never in front of the emperor, for death was the punishment if anyone dared to brandish a blade in his presence.
Forty-nine paces.
They waited while sandals were brought before them, Kenshin’s the simple geta of a samurai, and Mariko’s gleaming darkly of lacquered wood. Beyond the reaches of the castle, the sun had begun its descent below the horizon, its light caramelizing all it touched.
Mariko followed Kenshin across the center courtyard toward another wing of Heian Castle, one that rose from the main edifice of seven gabled roofs. The scent of the orange blossoms mingled with the yuzu trees, and the blend of sweet and sour citrus floated past Mariko, beckoning her toward the woods beyond. Strange how the forest had never transfixed her before, yet now called to her whenever its jagged shadows came into view.
Satisfaction passed across the empress’s features. She glanced about the room. “Once the justice of the Lotus Pavilion has prevailed, we will speak of this matter no longer. Absolute mercy is our just reward.” Her admonition echoed throughout the space—a warning to all the other ladies present.
Anticipation writhed throughout the space. Its menace pulsed to all four corners.
The empress waited, a single brow arched.
Suke lifted her chin and rolled her shoulders back. “I admit to behaving licentiously with a soldier on the outskirts of the imperial gardens. I am undeserving of my lady’s mercy, but I beg for her pardon, and I swear on my family’s name that I will never be so untoward again.”
“Our mercy is granted.” The empress all but beamed at the trembling young woman. “You may begin,” she added almost absentmindedly.
Confusion once again took shape in Mariko’s chest. Suke’s shoulders sagged forward, and it was impossible for Mariko to tell whether it was from relief or defeat.
Another moment of utter stillness passed before a single egg soared across the room and shattered against Suke’s head. Though she clearly knew to expect it, the girl cried out in surprise and raised both her hands to defend herself, then immediately put them back in her lap. Another egg pelted toward her from the opposite side, the bright orange center sliding down the front of Suke’s white kimono. The women began to laugh amongst themselves.
All at once, eggs flew across the room at Suke, shattering over her lovely skin and silken garments. A well-aimed one struck her cheek hard, and a small trickle of blood flowed down one side of her face like a twisted tear.
Soon all the eggs had been launched.
Save one.
The empress looked at Mariko purposely, her attention drifting to the egg Mariko thought she’d concealed in her palm.
A rush of indignation passed through her body.
Why am I being asked to participate in this kind of cruel sport? It is not my place.
She did not know this girl. And Mariko could not stomach doing something humiliating to someone else. Especially a girl she suspected to be innocent of the charges. Another tense moment passed before Mariko realized exactly why she had been asked to see the empress today. This display was to be her introduction into the empress’s fold. Into the inner workings of the imperial court.
This sad display of power over an innocent young woman.
But Mariko did not have the time to contemplate the reasons why she’d been brought here. It came down to a simple decision for her.
She could act from her heart. Or from her head.
Her heart—a compass directed by emotion—pointed her toward the wrongness of the action. How it would eat away at her later if she did such a thing and caused another young woman pain.
Her mind told her what would happen if she failed the very first of the empress’s tests. She would lose an opportunity to gain footing in the imperial court, and the tasks she wished to accomplish would be forced beyond reach. Mariko glanced once more at Suke. At the silent tears the girl spilled as bits of egg dripped down her hair and clothing.
I … can’t do this to her.
But the empress’s eyebrows drew together. Her lips pursed. Her stare was a thousand daggers, each aimed Mariko’s way.
This was not about punishment. Though it was meant to be seen as an attempt to keep the morals of the young women at court in line, it came across as anything but. Pelting a girl into submission—even with something as harmless as an egg—was a rather strange show of power.
Despite the warnings of her mind, everything in Mariko’s heart rebelled against it.
This strange show of power.
The empress continued to stare at Mariko. In response, Mariko weighed the egg in her hand. Let it roll across her palm. Considered throwing it at the empress in defiance.
But now was not a moment for dreams.
“Do you feel as though I am unjust?” the empress asked coolly.
Mariko gazed up at the dowager empress’s face. When Yamoto Genmei had been younger, she must have been a beautiful woman. But time and pain and pettiness had withered her features into something unseemly, from the inside out. For the empress, every young woman she met was like the servant Isa—someone beneath her, meant for her to trample upon whenever she saw fit.
It probably began like this. With a simple choice.
Inhaling through her nose to allay her disgust, Mariko lobbed the egg hard at the pitiful girl, who dripped with enough food to feed a family for several weeks, letting it waste onto the freshly woven tatami mats. The egg landed at her knee with a splat, a pitiful finale to a sickening show.
Guilt spiked in Mariko’s stomach when Suke looked up at her, a mixture of embarrassment and gratitude passing across her features. Mariko swallowed.
She is … grateful?
“I was a silly little fool just like you, once,” the empress said to Mariko, her head canted to one side. “I thought myself principled and that my principles would carry me through my life, especially in the most difficult of times, when life did not turn out as I had dreamed.” The empress smirked to hide a sudden flash of pain. “Principles are well and good when you are young and life is at your feet, Lady Mariko. Perhaps you see me as cruel, but I am saving this girl from experiencing far more ruin in this way. And making all these young women present realize a harsh truth: men are allowed to wander in their desires.” She sniffed. “Women who wander risk their very lives.”
Mariko dropped her gaze, settling once more on the piece of unraveling straw near her knee. Back at her father’s province, she had known people like the empress. Women and men who took perverse pleasure in exacting unnecessary revenge on others. Even Ren had been guilty of similar behavior. But the empress was a strange variation of this. She believed herself better because she enacted cruelty to prevent something worse from happening.
Sparing girls public spite by encouraging it in closed settings.
Perhaps the empress was not at all like the people Mariko had known back home.
She was worse.
“Time teaches us all that we need to be better than men. But only by a thread.” The empress rose. “Cling to that thread. You will need it.” She gestured for one of the young attendants in the wings. “You will see my son now.” The empress smiled at Mariko’s kimono. Then shook her head in an approximation of regret.
“What a shame. That one was a favorite of mine, many years ago.”
Gleaming Darkly
Mariko’s hands shook. As the attendants slid open the doors, she gripped her kimono sleeves without a care for rumpling the delicate fabric. Her eyes averted, she bowed one last time to the empress, who remained on her throne, a serene smile upon her face.
Beyond the sliding doors stood Kenshin, as though Mariko’s torment was meant to be unceasing. If possible, her brother appeared even wearier than before. He looked at her face. At the frown tugging her lips and the lines creasing her brow. Then he cleared his throat, his gaze piercing, offering his sister silent advice.
In an instant, Mariko controlled her features.
Kenshin motioned for her to follow him. They turned to the left of the chamber, instead of the path to the right, which would have returned Mariko to the rooms she’d occupied since her arrival in Inako. As they walked, Mariko noted how many paces it took to move from one structure to another.
They exited the Lotus Pavilion and made their way toward a set of ornate sliding doors leading to the central courtyard. The men standing guard just outside were in simple hakama, each of their two swords slung through silk cords around their hips. Samurai, who would unsheathe their weapons only in dire circumstances, and never in front of the emperor, for death was the punishment if anyone dared to brandish a blade in his presence.
Forty-nine paces.
They waited while sandals were brought before them, Kenshin’s the simple geta of a samurai, and Mariko’s gleaming darkly of lacquered wood. Beyond the reaches of the castle, the sun had begun its descent below the horizon, its light caramelizing all it touched.
Mariko followed Kenshin across the center courtyard toward another wing of Heian Castle, one that rose from the main edifice of seven gabled roofs. The scent of the orange blossoms mingled with the yuzu trees, and the blend of sweet and sour citrus floated past Mariko, beckoning her toward the woods beyond. Strange how the forest had never transfixed her before, yet now called to her whenever its jagged shadows came into view.
