Yatagarasu Series
Volume 1:
Ravens Shouldn't
Wear Kimono
Author: Chisato Abe
Part 1: Spring
Section 4
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Asebi awoke early the next morning. She’d gone to bed early the previous night because she was so exhausted. Even so, she’d found it difficult to fall asleep. She rubbed her bleary eyes and got up, moving sluggishly. Ukogi scolded her for waking up late.
After performing her morning ablutions, Asebi went to the dining room of the Spring Hall. Breakfast was served immediately.
The breakfast brought to the Spring Hall was a simple one of rice porridge mixed with softened sweet beans and melon pickled in aged rice wine.
After she finished her meal, Asebi got ready for the day. She brushed her hair, applied face powder and blush, and straightened her clothes. She looked in the mirror with a critical eye. She wasn’t as fair-skinned as Shiratama, but her skin wasn’t dark, either. Her cheeks glowed a rosy pink from the cold water she’d used to wash her face. Applying too much makeup would look tasteless on her, so she was careful to add only a light layer of face powder and a touch of rouge to her cheeks.
Just as she finished getting ready, a messenger arrived from the Autumn Hall. Masuho no Susuki was hosting a tea party for all the duchesses. Asebi sent a reply with the messenger that she would attend.
Within Sakura Palace, there were three gates that separated the corridors that connected the various halls. Wisteria Hall was flanked by two gates. The western one led to the Summer Hall and the Spring Hall and the eastern one led to the Autumn Hall and the Winter Hall. The western gate was called the Four Corners Gate and the eastern gate was called the Merchant Wings Gate.
Asebi walked a few paces past the Merchant Wings Gate and heard laughter coming from the Autumn Hall. The messenger who had invited Asebi to the tea party stood by the door. She bowed a little, and then directed Asebi and Ukogi inside.
The Autumn Hall was decorated in a completely different style than the Spring Hall. Most of the furnishings in the Spring Hall were made of a warm-colored wood that made the space feel homey and comforting. In contrast, the Autumn Hall’s furnishings were coated in a layer of black lacquer that shed light. The folding screens, cushions and other soft features were all a deep red color. Gold-embroidered flowers and leaves adorned the screens and furniture.
“Wow,” Asebi said under her breath.
“So ostentatious,” Ukogi said. She was careful to keep her voice down.
Ukogi wasn’t wrong, exactly, but that didn’t make the space any less impressive. The black furniture and accents contrasted strongly with the white of the walls, and the red and gold decorations brightened up the black-lacquered items. There was an artful sophistication to how everything was arranged, even if it did strike Ukogi as over-the-top spectacle.
Ukogi guided Asebi through the hall toward a group of ladies-in-waiting. They sat on cushions and low couches, sipping tea and talking. The atmosphere was relaxed and easygoing. One sliding door was open, revealing a courtyard lined with maple trees that were still growing their new spring leaves. Asebi imagined how this place would look in autumn with all the sliding doors open. All the leaves would be changing colors then. This space would be as pretty as a painting.
“Welcome, Duchess Asebi. Please have a seat,” Masuho no Susuki called out cheerfully from her seat on a high cushion near the center of the space. She was dressed in layers of light mauve. She leaned with easy grace against her armrest, a queen of her own small domain.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Asebi said with a bow.
Shiratama was already present, but Hamayū was nowhere to be seen. Asebi wondered if she’d been invited. It seemed likely that she would have declined the invitation, in any case. Regardless of what had happened, Hamayū would not be participating in this gathering.
Incense burned in golden braziers scattered around the room, filling it with a sweet scent. Asebi took a deep breath, enjoying the smell.
Masuho no Susuki smiled. “It’s not as grand as a proper incense ceremony, I’m afraid,” she said.
“But the duchess has taken a bit of interest in the kneaded incense that is used in the Imperial Palace,” Shiratama said. An elderly attendant accompanying Shiratama gave her a fond, indulgent smile.1
“It’s a scent I’ve never smelled before,” Masuho no Susuki said, “though there are strong notes of clove and cinnamon that I find enticing.”
“Indeed, it is made with a secret technique passed down through the generations,” Shiratama said. “Only those who serve Hokke know how it is made.”
“The smell reminds me pleasantly of kurobou. I believe I understand the fragrance’s composition. Perhaps we might try making some.”2
The smile faded from the face of Shiratama’s elderly lady-in-waiting.
Kikuno was sitting next to Masuho no Susuki. She smirked as her mistress moved away from a brazier. She stopped in front of a different one.
“This fragrance is something I blended myself,” Masuho no Susuki said. “What do you think of it?” she asked cheerfully.
“The scent is a bit strong,” Shiratama said tonelessly. “Overall, it reminds me of jasmine. Is that the base of the scent?”
“You have keen senses,” Masuho no Susuki said.
“This is a mixture of nisinda and kiso. They must be blended in just the right proportions, or you won’t get such a sweet aroma,” Kikuno said. “Nisinda is taken from the flowers of the tree that grows on the back of a white water snake. Kiso is made from the eyes of a nue, a creature raised only on pure water from birth. There are three rare fragrances in the mountains. We are using two of them here to make this scent. It is a delicate and luxurious incense.”3
Kikuno puffed out her chest with pride. “Both of these ingredients can only be obtained in the territorial holdings of the Nishiie family.”
Ukogi sat in the shadow of a flowering plant with tiny bell-shaped blossoms and sighed. If anyone noticed this slight breach of decorum, no one said anything.4
Masuho no Susuki turned her attention to Asebi next. She was in high spirits. “So… what kind of fragrances do you use, Duchess Asebi?”
“Huh?” Asebi blinked rapidly. She’d lost the thread of the conversation some time before and was content to stare into space, inhaling all the lovely incense.
Ukogi appeared uncomfortable. She prepared specific perfumes and scents for Asebi’s use, of course, but Asebi didn’t know what they were called or how they were made. Asebi wasn’t aware of any secret family recipes or anything.
“Um, I’m sorry. I don’t really know much about the scents my family uses.”
“Really? Nothing at all?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever used anything that’s very expensive. And, um, I’ve never participated in an incense ceremony before, either.”
“You must be joking,” Masuho no Susuki said.
“My family doesn’t tend to indulge in such luxuries—”
“—with all due respect,” Ukogi cut in, “the duchess’ perfume is a traditional fragrance, and the recipe has been passed down from the previous generation. The duchess is unaware of this because she rarely prepares scents for her own everyday use.”
“But it is true that you have never participated in an incense ceremony, Duchess Asebi?” Masuho no Susuki asked. “That seems odd, for a noble lady such as yourself.”
The ladies-in-waiting of the Autumn Hall whispered among themselves.
Asebi felt blood rise to her face and looked down, embarrassed. Ukogi stood in front of her in a defensive pose. “The duchess suffered from a prolonged illness in childhood. She was not permitted to participate in many events due to her delicate health.”
The whispers stopped, but Masuho no Susuki’s ladies-in-waiting exchanged meaningful glances.
Kikuno sensed the growing tension in the room and stepped in to change the subject. “If we are speaking of ill health, this often happens because of the accumulation of evil spirits. The Doll Festival will be held soon, so I’m sure we’ll all feel better then.”5
“Oh, yes. The Doll Festival is on the day of the snake this year, and it is a holy day of purification.” Asebi nodded sagely. She knew all about the Doll Festival.6
The Doll Festival involved a ritual where people transferred impurities onto a doll and then sent it down the river. She had already made her own doll for this purpose and kept it hidden in her sleeve.
Kikuno was relieved to see Asebi smile again and took the opportunity to boast about her mistress, as was her habit.
“Masuho no Susuki is very skilled at making dolls,” Kikuno said.
“I don’t know if I’d say that I’m very skilled,” Masuho no Susuki said with a trace of false modesty.
Asebi was happy to be included in the conversation. “I have some skill in making dolls, too. I have a doll I made with me,” she said.
The others all looked at her in confusion. Asebi, floating on her own excitement, didn’t notice. She took out a small, simply made doll from a small pocket in her sleeve.
“I was told to always keep a doll with me as a charm, since it can help ward off misfortune,” Asebi said.
At that point, one of the ladies-in-waiting couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing behind her fan. Soon, the others followed, clutching their stomachs in laughter.
Asebi looked around in bewilderment. Ukogi went pale and lowered her face. Asebi knew that the laughter was directed at her, but she had no idea what was so funny.
“You would use that simple thing for a purification ritual?” one of Shiratama’s older ladies-in-waiting asked through peals of laughter.
The doll was dressed in simple clothes like those a commoner might wear. The aristocrats of Yatagarasu were expected to dress differently, of course, in a much more refined and courtly style.7
“It’s so vulgar!” Shiratama turned away without even a hint of a smile on her face.
Asebi’s forehead crinkled. What did “vulgar” mean in this context? She had no idea what was wrong with her doll.
“We are Yatagarasu nobles,” Shiratama said. “We would never use something so cheaply made for a ritual of purification.”
“I suppose I shall have to show you something special from my own collection,” Masuho no Susuki said. She waved her fan toward her lady-in-waiting.
At her signal, the lady-in-waiting retrieved an object from a drawer and then carried it back to her mistress.
Masuho no Susuki gently set the doll down before Asebi. It was a splendid doll, and so large and heavy that it needed two hands to be carried. The doll’s skin was smooth and glossy. Asebi had never seen a material quite like it and was unsure of how it was made. The doll’s kimono was dyed a deep red and was cut in the same style that Masuho no Susuki wore. The doll wore a tiny ornamental hairpin no larger than a fingertip that was clearly the work of a skilled artisan.8
“I’ve been working on this doll for three months,” Masuho no Susuki said brightly, clearly proud of the result.
“The accessories were ordered even earlier—over a year ago,” Kikuno added.
“Masuho no Susuki decided on the color of the kimono personally,” another lady-in-waiting chimed in.
“Truly, what exquisite taste she has,” another woman remarked.
Masuho no Susuki’s ladies-in-waiting all praised their mistress in unison and made no effort to hide their prideful expressions.
Shiratama sniffed dismissively, and then said, “Of course the doll is splendid. It is for noble use. No one of noble rank makes simple dolls for the Doll Festival anymore. It isn’t done.”
For the nobility, the Doll Festival was a time to pray for the health and flourishing of the household’s daughters. While the practice of sending human-shaped dolls down the river had been consistent since ancient times, it was now customary for those dolls to be beautiful works of art in noble households. It was almost inappropriate to term them mere substitutes or stand-ins for their creators.
“It would never do for something that stands in for a duchess or a princess to be shabby, would it? Every family prepares as best they can, staking their honor on the results,” Shiratama added.
Dolls like the one Masuho no Susuki had made were placed in splendid boats that were also crafted by artisans. The boats were sent down the river by trusted retainers. The dolls would be retrieved later and then displayed in a place of honor within the house. It had become customary for young noblemen of marriageable age to watch the dolls floating down the river, imagining the beautiful noblewomen who had made them and dreaming of their future brides.
After the festival, it was not uncommon for the owners of well-made dolls to receive love letters. Out of all of the five seasonal festivals held at Sakura Palace, the Doll Festival was the only event where a visit from the Crown Prince was permitted.
Commoner girls regularly interacted with boys, so there was no need for them to create elaborate dolls. They used simple dolls like the one Asebi had, with painted wooden faces and simple kimono made of colored paper. Commoners were more likely to call the festival the Day of Purification because there was less emphasis on the dolls themselves. Those who lived in and around the Imperial Palace were more likely to call it the Doll Festival.
Asebi learned all of these things for the first time as they were patiently explained to her by Masuho no Susuki’s ladies-in-waiting.
“You didn’t even know about the Doll Festival!” one of the ladies-in-waiting said, unable to suppress her laughter.
“Are you really an Azumaya duchess?” another commented, sounding both surprised and amused.
“To think you never even received a doll from anyone… Does your father dislike you?” someone else wondered. She sounded equal parts pitying and mocking.
“Well, perhaps this simple style suits Duchess Asebi better,” Masuho no Susuki said with a gentle smile. “What seems plain to those from the palace might be considered quite fine for someone who came from the countryside, don’t you agree?”
Shrill peals of laughter echoed around the room.
Next to the gorgeously dressed doll, the doll that Asebi had made herself looked strangely miserable. Each thoughtless word felt like a stab straight to Asebi’s heart. She would cry if things continued like this. She lowered her face so that no one would see her distress.
Suddenly, there was a sharp cracking sound.
“My apologies,” said Shiratama with a composed expression.
Looking over, Asebi saw that the teacup in Shiratama’s hand had broken. Apparently, she had bumped it against a brazier.
“The teacup!” Kikuno cried out in alarm.
Masuho no Susuki glared at Kikuno in reproach, and then gave Shiratama a strained smile. “Well, what’s broken is broken,” she said. “It can’t be helped. Please don’t worry about it.”
“You are kind to say so, Masuho no Susuki,” Shiratama said, smiling innocently and bowing her head. She stood up swiftly, making no sound. “It feels quite stuffy in here, I think. I believe I will step outside for a moment if that’s all right?”
Shiratama instructed her elderly lady-in-waiting to clean up the broken pieces of the teacup. Then she faced Asebi. “Duchess Asebi, would you care to join me?” she asked.
Duchess Asebi looked up. She understood instantly that Duchess Shiratama was trying to be considerate, which she appreciated. It was as if she’d broken her teacup on purpose. No one was laughing at Asebi anymore because of what she’d done.
Asebi nodded hastily and followed Shiratama out of the room without saying a word.
Asebi and Shiratama walked out into the hallway and kept moving until the sounds of the tea party had faded away into nothing. Then Shiratama stopped.
“Duchess Shiratama, um, thank you for inviting me to accompany you,” Asebi said. “You really helped me. Thank you very much.”
“There’s no need to thank me. It’s not as though I intended to help you,” Shiratama replied curtly. Her back was turned. She made no move to face Asebi. She paused, considering, and then murmured, “Though I suppose it is right to thank me.” She took a deep breath and then said, “I do not wish you to think yourself in my debt, but I have a request to make of you.”
“Oh? What is it?” Asebi asked.
“I would ask you to dismiss your lady-in-waiting,” Shiratama said. “Just for a moment.”
Ukogi’s expression soured.
“Ukogi? Would you please leave us alone for a minute?” Asebi asked.
“Very well,” Ukogi said. She bowed stiffly, then passed Shiratama and turned down the hallway ahead of them. Shiratama asked her own lady-in-waiting to leave as well and waited until the woman was out of sight.
“What would you like to talk about?” Asebi asked.
Shiratama looked around, making sure that there was no one else nearby. Then she said, “I would like you to give up on entering the imperial court.”
Asebi’s eyes widened in surprise. Out of all the things she’d expected Shiratama to say, she hadn’t anticipated that one. If Shiratama was being serious, then this was quite a selfish request. Asebi thought she might be joking for a moment, but Shiratama’s eyes were frighteningly earnest.
“I understand that this may seem sudden, but you and I are in very different positions. From what I’ve heard, it seems that your family is not particularly enthusiastic about your entry into the palace. You must feel this most keenly yourself,” Shiratama whispered quickly. “You were thrown into this place with no preparation whatsoever. I cannot believe that the Azumaya family means for you to wed an imperial prince. But my family is pinning all of our hopes on this opportunity. We have been preparing for generations, long before I was even born. You cannot claim that you and I are facing this challenge with the same resolve and resources, can you?”
Asebi remembered the faces of all the servants who’d come out of the estate where she’d lived for most of her life. They had all come out to wish her well. Ukogi wanted her to succeed here for the sake of her family. Perhaps some people desired greatness from her, but Shiratama wasn’t wrong, exactly. She hadn’t been set up for success, so it would be a mistake to say that she expected great things from herself.
“You may be forgiven by your people for not entering the Imperial Palace as a bride, but I cannot say the same for myself. That is why I beg you—please, give up.”
Asebi was at a loss for words. She gasped, holding her breath, and then a shadow appeared behind Shiratama.
“How shameless, Duchess Shiratama of Hokke,” Princess Fujinami said in an imperious tone.
Shiratama raised an eyebrow in surprise, though she remained composed. “It was only a jest, Princess Fujinami,” Shiratama said.
“That’s not how it sounded to me,” Princess Fujinami said, deftly adjusting her long, narrow purple sash as she stepped closer to Shiratama. “Even if you meant it as a joke, what if Duchess Asebi were to take it seriously? That would not be a laughing matter. Use care not to jest in such a way again. It seems that you don’t mind making an enemy of Azumaya, but I should think that you do not wish to make an enemy of me.”
Shiratama maintained a polite smile that revealed no emotion and bowed gracefully. She said nothing in response. She retreated down the hallway with her elderly attendant in tow. She moved smoothly, but with uncommon haste. Shiratama slid open the door to the Autumn Hall and rejoined the tea party.
The moment Shiratama and her attendant were out of sight, all the tension drained from Fujinami’s face. “Please don’t startle me like that, Asebi!” Fujinami placed her hand on her cheek, alarmed. “I feared my heart would stop when I saw you here!”
Asebi looked at her in confusion. She didn’t understand why Fujinami was so startled and upset.
Ukogi gave Asebi a wry grin and touched her shoulder. “I requested the princess’ presence here, duchess.”
“Ukogi, was it you?”
Ukogi explained that she’d hurried to fetch Fujinami the instant she’d been dismissed. Only Fujinami would be permitted to break up such a private discussion in Sakura Palace.
“It was fortunate timing, since I was just on my way to see you,” Fujinami said. “If I had been too busy to attend to this business, I suspect there would be severe consequences later.”
“Exactly so, Princess Fujinami. Duchess Asebi, please don’t thoughtlessly send me away again. You didn’t say yes to the Duchess of Hokke’s heinous request, did you?”
Asebi said that she had not, but she still felt uneasy. Shiratama’s desire for her to bow out of the Rite of Ascension was deadly serious. She hadn’t been joking.
“Princess Fujinami, did you require something from Duchess Asebi? You said you were on your way to see her, after all,” Ukogi said.
“Yes, there’s something I would like her to see.”
“In that case, I will make your excuses to those gathered in the Autumn Hall, Duchess Asebi,” Ukogi said. “Is that all right?”
Asebi nodded. She was secretly glad that she wouldn’t have to return to that awful tea party. Ukogi must be relieved as well.
While Ukogi went back into the Autumn Hall, Fujinami led Asebi to Wisteria Hall.
“Princess Fujinami, where is your attendant?”
Takimoto, who was always by her side, was nowhere to be seen.
Fujinami stuck out her tongue slightly and giggled. “It’s a secret. I left without telling Takimoto. What I want to show you is in a rather troublesome place. This way.”
Princess Fujinami walked faster. Asebi followed, not knowing where they were going. Fujinami proceeded confidently into the depths of Wisteria Hall.
“Wait for me!” Asebi whispered as Princess Fujinami outpaced her.
Where on earth was Princess Fujinami going? They were nearly through Wisteria Hall. Beyond that was a forbidden zone where only the imperial family was allowed to tread. And beyond that was the Inner Palace, which was forbidden to almost everyone. Asebi knew that much about the Imperial Palace’s layout. She suspected that Princess Fujinami would reach some point of no return soon, but the princess kept hurrying forward.
Then Princess Fujinami came to an abrupt halt. Before her, set into a rock wall, was a large gate.
Fujinami turned to face Asebi and put a finger to her lips, requesting silence. She removed an old-fashioned key from a breast pocket and then approached the gate. She used the key, and the gate swung forward with a clang.
“It’s open!” Fujinami whispered. The key she’d used was still in the lock.
Asebi frowned slightly. The fact that they’d needed a key must mean that this place was off-limits. She thought about what she should say to convince Fujinami to turn back.
But then Fujinami passed through the open gate. Asebi followed her before the gate could slam in her face. It would be terrible to be stranded in this place alone.
“Princess Fujinami!” Asebi tried to keep her voice down, but she was agitated and confused, so her voice came out louder than she’d intended. She lingered in front of the gate, bewildered. “Where are we?”
“Don’t worry,” Fujinami whispered back, taking the timid Asebi by the hand. “We’ll only be in trouble if we get caught. This is the room where the imperial family stores furniture and cooking utensils for banquets and such.” Fujinami gave Asebi a mischievous smile. “Hardly anyone is allowed in here, so I doubt we’ll see anyone.”
Asebi gulped as her fears were confirmed: this was a forbidden place, and she was definitely not supposed to be here. “But, but…” She felt like a harsh reprimand or punishment would come down on her at any time.
“I wanted to show you the nagon,” Fujinami said. 9
Asebi’s mouth snapped shut. The secret to playing the nagon was a specialty of the Azumaya family that had been passed down through the generations. If rumors were true, only members of the Azumaya family knew the right way to play such a grand and cumbersome instrument.
Fujinami chattered on about the nagon as she led Asebi by the hand. Apparently, she’d caught sight of the instrument by chance and had been fascinated by it ever since. Unfortunately, the nagon wasn’t allowed to leave this place without the Emperor’s permission, or she would have brought it out for Asebi to see much sooner. Since that wasn’t possible, she’d resorted to borrowing the key to this area in secret and bringing Asebi here.
The room that Fujinami led Asebi to was dim, with latticed wooden shutters covering the small windows. The room was a large storage area. There were sturdy shelves along every wall from floor to ceiling. Asebi was briefly overwhelmed by the space. She followed after Fujinami silently.
Fujinami’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. Asebi had rarely seen her this happy before.
“I was surprised to learn that our family owns a nagon,” Fujinami said. “There must be some history behind it. I’m sure you’ll understand what it is, Asebi!” She hoped that one day, Asebi would play the nagon for her, if she could.
“There are many musicians far more talented than I am,” Asebi said modestly. Her education regarding history and the imperial court were somewhat lacking, but she’d been given a thorough musical education from birth. Her mother had excelled at playing the nagon. There were days when the image of her mother’s face blurred—she had died so long ago—but Asebi never forgot the lullabies she’d played. Like her mother, Asebi was gifted at playing the nagon. She was curious to see the one that the imperial family possessed, though she wouldn’t have taken as many risks as Fujinami was taking just to see it.
Asebi trailed Princess Fujinami quietly. She wasn’t thinking about turning back anymore. They were already in a place they shouldn’t be. Not seeing the nagon now would be a disappointment to both Asebi and Fujinami.
Fujinami searched the shelves, pacing around the room with Asebi as her shadow. Elegant porcelain dishes and silver ornaments were arranged neatly on each shelf. There was no sign of anything like a musical instrument, though. As the search dragged on, Asebi became anxious. Someone would miss Princess Fujinami before too long. Her own absence from Sakura Palace might be noticed. Ukogi would definitely be worried about her by now.
“Princess Fujinami?” Takimoto’s voice echoed from far away.
Asebi and Fujinami exchanged startled glances.
“Princess Fujinami, why don’t we give up for today and come back another time?” Asebi whispered.
Fujinami’s face set in grim lines. She wasn’t ready to give up just yet. Asebi was familiar with Fujinami’s stubborn streak, but she wished that it had chosen a different time to show itself. “We don’t know when we’ll get another chance,” she said quietly.
Takimoto called out to Fujinami again, and her voice was getting louder. Fujinami looked like she might burst into tears.
Asebi nodded to herself, then whispered, “All right. Takimoto won’t give up. You should go outside and show her where you are and that you’re all right. I’ll keep searching in here until you return.”
Fujinami nodded hesitantly. “I’ll leave the door unlocked. If you find it, please go outside and wait for me.”
“Yes, I will. Please come as quickly as you can.”
“Of course.” Reluctantly, Fujinami slipped outside the room before Takimoto found them both. The door closed with a muffled thump.
Asebi listened until she could no longer hear Fujinami’s footsteps. She leaned against the door for a moment and took a deep breath to steady herself. Faint light shone through the bottom of the closed door. If Takimoto found Asebi here alone, she would be in serious trouble. She wished she’d done more to prevent this from happening, but what was done was done: all she could do now was hope for the best. She steeled herself, facing the shelves.
Fujinami had started searching in a specific area. She’d whispered that she’d seen the nagon in that corner of the room, though they hadn’t been able to find it. There were few windows along this wall, so it was even dimmer than the rest of the room. A closed skylight let in a bit of sunlight at the edges. Without this sliver of light, Asebi wouldn’t have been able to see well enough to search the shelves.
Asebi walked carefully so that her long, trailing sleeves and skirt wouldn’t catch on anything. A thin thread of sunlight glinted on something metal sitting at the end of an aisle between shelves. Gleaming, minute dust motes danced in the light.
There it was: the nagon. The shape of the instrument was intimately familiar to Asebi. It was longer than a normal koto, and broader. The instrument lured her to it. She felt like she was seeing an old friend that had been lost to her for a long time.
Asebi reached for the nagon and picked it up, cradling it lightly in her hands. The nagon was comfortable and smooth in her grasp. The strings were strung. If she didn’t know better, she would say that this instrument had been recently prepared for use. She strummed the strings lightly and discovered that they were slightly out of tune. Even so, the instrument’s sound was extraordinarily mellow and sweet. There was no special ornamentation on the instrument itself aside from a carved pattern of cherry blossoms wreathed in mist covering the top board. The nagon was solidly made and would be easy to play. Asebi was delighted to discover this instrument. Its maker had known their business well. This nagon was straightforward and simple: a contradiction of sorts, since the nagon was a notoriously difficult instrument to play. She felt like it was the sort of instrument that would faithfully produce the sound that the musician intended.
Asebi let out a sigh of admiration. It was a truly magnificent nagon. She’d never seen anything quite like it before. Overcome by excitement, she started to play. Nothing complex, but just simple songs that struck her mood. The dim room felt brighter as music filled the space. She smiled down at the nagon and hummed along with the tune.
An unfamiliar voice jolted Asebi from her playing. She stopped and looked around.
“Why do you smile?” a young man asked.
Asebi shrank back, trying by act of will to disappear into the shelves behind her.
The man was staring at her. He leaned against a stone pillar near the center of the room. He was dressed all in white.
Asebi was confused. This place was off-limits to men, wasn’t it? Or did that only apply to Sakura Palace proper? Regardless, there should be few men permitted here: the Emperor, the Crown Prince and their guards were the only men allowed.
And this wasn’t the Emperor or a guard.
Asebi bit her lip. Takimoto had told her that men who were part of the imperial family could visit the Empress or Princess Fujinami if they were invited. She didn’t know who he was for certain, but she knew that he must be a person of considerable status. Unsure of what to do, she fell silent in distress and stared at the floor.
The young man approached her, stepping into the thin illumination provided by the closed skylight. He appeared noble, with distinguished features. His skin was as pale and fair as any woman’s that Asebi had seen (aside, perhaps, from Shiratama’s). His lips were pale and bloodless and slightly puckered in a frown.
“I heard the music,” the young man said. “So I came. What was that song? It was beautiful.” He seemed to realize that he’d frightened her. His slight frown slowly changed to a tentative smile. “You are very skilled.”
He spoke quietly, almost in a whisper, and came no closer.
Asebi didn’t know who this man was. She knew nothing about his background; she couldn’t even guess his name. Even so, she felt it would be wrong to show him mere courtly politeness when he was being careful not to scare her further. She put on a friendly smile.
“I’m honored by your praise,” Asebi said. Her voice shook a little, but her smile held.
The young man smiled back at her. “May I ask why someone like you is in a place like this?” he asked.
“Um… where am I?” Asebi asked.
“This is the treasury,” the young man said. “Very few people are permitted here. The whole area is restricted.”
Asebi went pale. “I… I see. Forgive me. I didn’t realize that this was the treasury.”
Princess Fujinami must have known, but she hadn’t told Asebi. No wonder the nagon was here. The instrument that Asebi had so carelessly picked up and played was likely a family heirloom. “I’m so sorry,” Asebi said. She set the nagon back in its place with great care, and then fell to her knees, prostrating herself before the young man. “I… I heard that there were some rare instruments here and started playing without thinking. Please forgive me.”
“There’s no need to kneel,” the young man said, waving his hand. He appeared somewhat flustered. “I’m not going to punish you or anything. I haven’t heard music like that in a very long time.” He laughed nervously, then half-bowed as if he were preparing to thank her for a gift.
All the tension drained from Asebi’s shoulders.
The young man’s smile flashed off. “Although… you probably shouldn’t tell anyone else that you were here,” he said. “I’m glad I found you first. If Takimoto discovered you here, it would be a serious problem.”
Asebi hung her head. “I truly am very sorry.”
“Everything is fine,” the young man said firmly. “But I’m not the only one with ears. I expect that others will be coming soon. Come with me, and I’ll lead you out.” He beckoned to her politely with one hand.
Asebi got clumsily to her feet, scolding herself for her lingering fear. She followed the young man with as much grace as she could muster.
“You work in the Spring Hall, don’t you?” the young man asked. “Are you one of Duchess Futaba’s ladies-in-waiting, perhaps?”
Asebi shook her head in embarrassment. “N-no. That is to say, I live there, but I’m the Duchess of Azumaya, not… not a lady-in-waiting.”
“What did you say?”
He was so surprised. Asebi could tell. That was genuine shock on his face. Was she truly so unimpressive?
“I am Duchess Futaba’s younger sister,” she said. “There were unavoidable circumstances. I had to come to Sakura Palace in her place.”
“Oh, I see,” the young man said in an undertone. He nodded in understanding. “If that’s the case, I’ve been terribly rude. Please forgive me, Duchess Asebi.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” Asebi said. She faltered. She didn’t know how to address this man because she had no idea who he was. If anything, she was more worried that she herself might be the one being disrespectful.
Asebi mumbled something along those lines.
The young man was flustered again. He blinked. “You don’t need to be quite so formal with me,” he said. “I’m just a servant. I was sent by His Majesty the Emperor to fetch Ukigumo from the treasury,” he said.10
Asebi wondered why an ordinary servant would speak so much like an imperial noble, but she realized almost immediately that a servant of the Imperial Palace would require such decorum and manners. He was probably just being considerate. She pretended to accept his explanation, at least for the moment, and then asked what an ukigumo was.
The young man hesitated. “Ukigumo is the nagon you played,” he said. “It’s sometimes used for musical performances at court.”
“I see,” Asebi said. So that’s why it was being maintained, she thought. The nagon was slightly out of tune, but otherwise it was in perfect condition.
They spoke about lighter topics as the young man guided Asebi through the room full of shelves. At the end of one aisle, he opened a short, narrow service door that didn’t look like a door at first glance. Asebi and the young man would both need to bend almost double to enter. Asebi guessed that the door wasn’t used much.
“From here, you should be able to get to Wisteria Hall,” the young man said. “But listen: you must never, under any circumstances, tell anyone that you came here and met me.”
“I understand. Um, thank you for all your help. Really, thank you very much.”
The young man held the door open for her. She passed him by, catching the faint scent of a sweet fragrance wafting from his sleeve. Then he shut the door behind her. Asebi went down the short, narrow passageway until she came to an open space where she could straighten up. There was so much light all of a sudden that she was temporarily blinded. She didn’t recognize the hallway she found herself in, but after walking a bit, she saw a familiar courtyard. She let out a sigh of relief.
It was good to be back in familiar surroundings, but she wasn’t sure how to reach the Spring Hall from here. A lot of time had passed since Fujinami had left her in the treasury. Was Fujinami in trouble? Had anyone noticed that Asebi was missing? She hoped Fujinami had managed to cover for her…
“Duchess Asebi!” a palace maid that Asebi didn’t recognize called out frantically to her.
Asebi jumped, then raised her head.
The maid hugged her with great force. Asebi stiffened in her arms.
“Oh, thank goodness! I’ve been searching everywhere for you! Princess Fujinami told me to call you right away, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“Wait, do you serve the imperial family?” Asebi asked.
The maid kept hold of her as she explained how worried she’d been and how glad she was to see that Asebi was safe. She noticed Asebi wriggling a bit and let her go with a gasp. “Oh, I’m sorry! I was just so relieved…”
The maid was about Asebi’s age. She appeared strong and healthy and had a dusting of freckles across her nose. She wore a simple, light green garment with no frills or embroidery. Asebi thought that she looked honest.
The maid introduced herself as Samomo. She said that Princess Fujinami had summoned Asebi and that she should present herself immediately. “The Crown Prince is present in the palace today,” she said. “He will be visiting the cherry blossom viewing stage. It is important for all the duchesses and ladies of the palace to maintain a strict distance.”
“The Crown Prince? Here?” Asebi asked, her eyes widening in surprise.
Samomo nodded. “Please hurry, duchess! It took me so long to find you. Princess Fujinami is searching for you herself!”
Half-dragged by Samomo, Asebi returned to the entrance of Wisteria Hall, where Ukogi was waiting. The expression on her face was as wrathful as a demon’s.
“Duchess Asebi! Where have you been all this time?!” Ukogi had gotten turned around after making Asebi’s excuses in the Autumn Hall. She’d been searching all over the place since then. “Princess Fujinami said you parted ways in Wisteria Hall. I even went to look for you in the Spring Hall! I went everywhere! The washrooms, the kitchens, the halls…”
Ukogi let Asebi know that she’d be in for a stern lecture after they returned to the Spring Hall. They made several turns until they came to a gallery that featured a striking view of the cherry trees outside the palace. The cherry blossoms were budding and not blooming yet. Asebi imagined how lovely they would be when they were in bloom.
Leaning on the balustrade and looking down, Asebi saw a raised platform that looked like a stage.
“Hey, over here, Asebi!” Hamayū called out in a lively voice. She sat at the end of the gallery, appearing entirely relaxed. She sat on the folds of her over-robe, holding a gourd in one hand and sipping rice wine from a red lacquered cup that she held in the other.
“If you stay there, you’ll be in plain view from the other side. Come quickly,” she said.
Asebi went over to Hamayū, noticing that the area beyond and around her was partially concealed by a hanging bamboo blind. She learned later that during cherry blossom season, musicians and dancers would be on the stage. The hanging bamboo blinds were in the room to give audiences and people there to see the cherry blossoms some privacy.
“Shiratama and Masuho no Susuki are over there somewhere,” she said, gesturing vaguely across the gallery.
Asebi flinched and glanced around herself, but she saw no sign of the Hokke duchess or the Nishiie duchess anywhere.
Hamayū gave Asebi a catlike grin. “So they bullied you at the tea party, did they? How typical.”
“No they didn’t,” Asebi said, though she knew that she was pouting a little bit. She smoothed her expression.
“You shouldn’t lie; you’re not good at it,” Hamayū said. “You may not be well-educated, but you do have charisma. Those two were never going to leave you alone. You’re too beautiful for them to ignore you. Have more confidence in yourself.”
Asebi made a sour face at Hamayū’s obvious amusement at the misfortune she’d suffered during the tea party. “You flatter me without cause,” she said. “Masuho no Susuki would not see me as a rival in beauty, nor should you or Shiratama. I’ve been rather self-conscious since I came here. My hair is so pale and washed-out. It seems that straight, black hair is considered the standard for beauty here. I think I look strange, not beautiful.”
Hamayū listened to Asebi’s critical self-assessment in silence. Then she laughed. It wasn’t a polite, ladylike laugh at all. It was loud and echoed in the gallery. If it were not impolite to say it, Asebi would describe that laugh as a bellow.
“I wouldn’t say your hair is washed-out. That shade is the same color as sacred incense. Beautiful women don’t always have to fit into the same mold.” She laughed again. Taking this opportunity to outshine the Nishiie family in terms of wit if not beauty, she added, “Even Shiratama being prickly is because she’s jealous of your beauty.”
Hamayū peered down at Asebi’s wide-eyed face.“Shiratama was raised from birth to believe that she and no one else would become the Crown Prince’s wife. It’s no wonder she’s so touchy.”
Is that why? Asebi wondered. “She’s jealous? Of me?”
“Yes, almost certainly,” Hamayū said. “Even I might not be so calm if you were my rival in love.” The way she said this implied that she had no interest at all in wedding the Crown Prince. She gave Asebi a light pat on the head, then commanded her ladies-in-waiting to pour Asebi a cup of rice wine.
The gallery grew louder and more boisterous as more ladies and their attendants entered and took a seat. Asebi sipped at her rice wine gingerly. Hamayū and her attendants encouraged her to drink, to sing, and so on. Asebi went along with their prompting, feeling included and a bit lighter in spirit.
Was Hamayū being kind to her? Was that possible?
A screech pulled Asebi away from the fun.
“They’re here! It’s the Crown Prince!” a woman shouted.
“So he’s here at last,” Hamayū said under her breath.
Asebi leaned over the railing of the gallery and stared down at the stage.
“I’ve arrived,” a young man said in a low voice. He was accompanied by three attendants and a child. He walked between two columns of black-clad guards, his light purple formal robe fluttering in the breeze.
“That’s…” Asebi caught her breath.
“That’s His Highness the Crown Prince. Our beloved heir to the empire.” Hamayū gave her a sidelong glance. “So. What do you think of him? Is he your type?” she teased.
Asebi couldn’t answer. She couldn’t see the Crown Prince’s face well from this angle, but she was certain that she recognized him. She felt as if she had seen this same scene somewhere before. But that was impossible, wasn’t it? She’d almost never left her rooms while she was living at home. The only exception to that was when she’d sneaked away to the border of Azumaya territory to see the cherry blossoms as a child.
Asebi gasped.
The Crown Prince paused mid-step and looked up at her.
Had he heard her? Probably not. The stage was fairly far away. From his side, all he could have seen was Asebi’s shadow through the impersonal bamboo blinds. But when he smiled, Asebi felt like he was smiling only at her.
In that moment, it felt as if the bothersome blinds and everyone else between Asebi and the Crown Prince had melted away. They stood facing one another, him looking up and her looking down, both surrounded by swirling cherry blossoms carried on the wind.
The unfamiliar purple robes left a strong impression on her. The young man was so very familiar, and yet unfamiliar at the same time. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. Her hands trembled on the railing. Tears sprang to the corners of her eyes but didn’t fall. She was swept up in an intense emotion that she couldn’t name.
The day she’d gone to see the cherry blossoms, she hadn’t even been ten years old yet.
“Well?” Hamayū asked behind her. “See anything interesting?”
Hamayū’s voice snapped Asebi back to reality. The swirl of cherry blossoms vanished and the bamboo blind obscured her view of the stage again. The Crown Prince was no longer looking at her, if he’d even looked at her in the first place.
Hamayū was frowning slightly. Asebi hadn’t answered her question.
Asebi summoned the presence of mind to speak. “Um, excuse me, did you just say something?”
“The Crown Prince suddenly stopped and looked this way, didn’t he? He’s as arrogant and selfish as ever. It’s a wonder that his attendants put up with him.” Her tone was light and teasing, as before.
Asebi’s heart beat loudly in her ears. Her face felt unbearably hot. The Crown Prince’s retinue had already turned their backs and were leaving the stage. Watching them go made Asebi’s heart ache with longing for a memory.
“Duchess Hamayū,” Asebi choked out, “I am sorry, but I suddenly feel unwell. May I return to the Spring Hall to rest?”
Hamayū gave her an odd look. “Of course,” she said.
“Did you drink too much? Are you all right?” Ukogi asked in a hushed whisper.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine if I lie down for awhile,” Asebi said.
Ukogi nodded, her face lined with concern. “Let us go, Duchess Asebi.”
Translator's Notes
1 Kneaded incense is made into pellets instead of strips or sticks, as is common. A popular form of kneaded incense in the Heian Period was 薫物 takimono, which was made famous by the ancient Japanese novel The Tale of Genji. ↩
2 Kurobou (黒棒) is a Japanese snack, often rendered “brown sugar sticks” in English. It is a type of baked confectionery that is made mainly in the Kyushu region of Japan.↩
3 Nisinda (汀荊) is a real herb used in traditional Asian medicine. Kiso (黄双) appears to be made up, and means “yellow twins” or “yellow double.” A nue {鵺) is a Japanese chimera: a mythical creature with a monkey’s head, a raccoon dog’s body, a tiger’s limbs, and a snake tail. ↩
4 The specific plant referred to here is the Japanese andromeda or pieris japonica (姫馬酔木). Since Japan doesn’t exist in this fantasy world, I have described the flowers instead. ↩
5 The Doll Festival is a traditional family day in Japan, and commonly known as ‘Girl’s Day’ due to the custom of creating elaborate displays of dolls on multi-tiered platforms. It is celebrated on the 3rd of March in Japan. The origins of the festival date back thousands of years to a custom that originally began in China as a means of ridding oneself of bad luck and evil spirits. A paper or straw doll is rubbed over one’s body, transferring the evil to it, and then put on a boat and floated out to sea. ↩
6 巳の日: The day of the snake comes from the Chinese Zodiac. The Snake is one of the animals represented in the zodiac. In Japan, there is one day of the snake for every twelve days. Every sixty days, the day of the snake is considered particularly lucky (this happens six times a year). ↩
7 The word used to insult the clothes of Asebi’s doll is yamagarasu (山烏), which describes commoner clothes. The word for imperial clothes is miyagarasu (宮烏). No explanation is given at this point for what “the aristocrats of Yatagarasu” actually means, though the prologue where the narrator turned into a bird provides a clue. 烏, garasu (or karasu uninflected) is the kanji character that means “raven” in Japanese. ↩
8 着物: Kimono literally means “thing that is worn” and can refer to any clothing, but in the context this refers to the elaborate courtly style of dress or miyagarasu (宮烏) that was mentioned earlier. ↩
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