Yatagarasu Series
Volume 1:
Ravens Shouldn't
Wear Kimono
Author: Chisato Abe
Part 3: Autumn
Section 1
Listen to this chapter!
The Star Festival was fast approaching.1
Two months had passed since the Boys’ Festival. The Crown Prince still had not visited Sakura Palace. However, unlike the Doll Festival or the Boys’ Festival, the Star Festival ceremony required his presence. There was no doubt that the Crown Prince would come to Sakura Palace for the festival.
This would be the first official visit of the Crown Prince to Sakura Palace since Asebi and the others had come to the imperial court. All the duchesses and ladies-in-waiting from every hall were eager to win the prince’s favor now that the opportunity was upon them.
“I heard that every day, chests filled with brocade and ornamental hairpins are being delivered to the Autumn Hall,” Samomo told Ukogi.
Ukogi was preparing Asebi’s garments for the Star Festival. She groaned in frustration. “No surprise that the Nishiie family would put in a great deal of effort and resources for the Star Festival, I suppose.”
“Even the Autumn Hall’s ladies-in-waiting are getting new clothes and accessories,” Samomo said. “I took a peek into the Autumn Hall this morning. They’re all sewing as fast as they can, and there were colorful dresses spread across every chair and surface. It was like the hall was being swallowed up in a wave of vivid colors.”
Samomo glanced down at her own clothes and sighed. “There’s no excitement like that in the Summer Hall. Honestly, I hope the Crown Prince doesn’t choose Duchess Hamayū as the Princess of Sakura Palace. Her attendants would cry non-stop if that happens.”
While Masuho no Susuki had granted her attendants and ladies-in-waiting the finest clothes and accessories, Hamayū hadn’t given so much as a single handkerchief to anyone serving her.
Ukogi frowned. “That seems strange on Duchess Hamayū’s part,” she said. “Surely the Nanke family is wealthy enough to provide all manner of clothing for her.”
Samomo laughed. “I’ve heard rumors that the family’s things are secretly carried out of their estates and sold off at low prices in commoner towns. That’s where Hamayū’s money comes from.”
Asebi was so astonished by this that she was left speechless.
“I am certain that the Lord of Nanke is not so desperate as all that,” Ukogi said, miffed. “Though Duchess Hamayū’s finances do seem sorely lacking.”
Asebi gave Ukogi a small, troubled smile. She didn’t want Ukogi to start insulting Hamayū like so many others did. “Perhaps the Nanke family simply has their own way of doing things,” she said.
“That may be true,” Ukogi conceded. She glared at one of the kimonos on Asebi’s garment rack. “I don’t think it would hurt if Duchess Hamayū were a bit more generous.”
Nothing Asebi said would make Ukogi less irritated. Asebi sighed quietly to herself, thinking about the events of the past two months.
***
Shortly after Asebi had told Ukogi and Samomo that she wanted to leave Sakura Palace, she was visited by Princess Fujinami.
“I heard everything from Ukogi,” Princess Fujinami said. “Leaving the palace is out of the question.”
Fujinami refused to allow Asebi to leave. She rejected Asebi’s request in writing and in person.
“I’m certain my brother will write all the duchesses letters of apology soon,” Fujinami said.
“But…” Asebi looked at her feet. A formal letter of apology written to all the duchesses was hardly sincere. She wouldn’t be happy to receive such a letter. She voiced her complaints to Fujinami.
Fujinami shook her head firmly. “My older brother is pleased that you are in Sakura Palace. He would never disparage you as a karasudayū or anything like that. In this place, malicious lies are easily spread, and easily believed. Even I often struggle to speak the plain truth because my position gives my words such inherent authority. I cannot share all of the details of what is going on, but I ask you to trust me. Please remain here.”
Princess Fujinami’s determination was unshakable. Asebi nodded at her words. She didn’t like having information withheld from her, but she did trust Princess Fujinami. If there were things she couldn’t say, there had to be a good reason for that.
Asebi’s decision to stay in the palace sent a ripple of relief through the Spring Hall. Her attendants and ladies-in-waiting had been greatly concerned for Asebi, to say nothing of their own positions. Asebi was sorry that she’d caused distress to so many other people.
The owner of the purple robe that had appeared in her room along with her letter was unknown. Asebi asked Princess Fujinami about it.
“Princess Fujinami, did you perhaps visit me last night?” Asebi felt embarrassed to ask this. If Fujinami had visited her then, she would have been asleep after crying for at least an hour.
Fujinami’s eyes widened in surprise. “No, I did not. Why do you ask?”
“Oh? I thought it must be you. I received a letter late last evening. I believe it came from someone in the imperial family.” She retrieved the purple robe so that she could show Fujinami.
Fujinami’s expression froze in place like she’d turned to stone.
“Ah, yes, that’s right! I completely forgot that a letter was going to you; I apologize. But, um, may I ask about the letter itself?” Fujinami asked.
It seemed that Princess Fujinami really didn’t know about the letter or the person who had delivered it to Asebi.
Asebi thought about asking her other ladies-in-waiting about the letter, in secret if need be. Neither Ukogi nor Samomo had seen anyone go into her room to deliver the letter, the bouquet and the robe. She didn’t know what else she could do to find out the identity of the mysterious letter-writer.
As Asebi pondered the best course of action, Samomo gave her a suggestion. “Why not contact your own family? They might know something,” she said.
Messages delivered and sent in Sakura Palace were tightly monitored for reasons of security and propriety. Any message that reached Asebi would have needed to pass through the hands of an imperial courier serving in Wisteria Hall. All messages penned by the duchesses were passed to an attendant, who carried the message to Wisteria Hall first. From there, a courier would deliver the letter to the recipient. There was no other method of delivering messages inside Sakura Palace.
Samomo explained all of this. She told Asebi that she was occasionally permitted to leave Sakura Palace to perform special duties. She used those opportunities to exchange letters with her younger brother and the rest of her family. This method of passing messages wasn’t officially supported by the imperial court, but there was no law against it, either. Samomo could carry a message from Asebi to her father to ask about the mysterious letter. There was no guarantee that the message would reach him, but it was certainly worth trying.
Since Samomo wasn’t sure when her next excursion outside would be, Asebi wrote her message to her father and passed it into Samomo’s keeping.
“If you find out anything about the courier who delivered my letter, can you let me know?” Asebi asked Samomo.
“Of course,” Samomo said. “I’ll look into it. There aren’t too many imperial couriers. If one of them delivered that letter, I should be able to find out which one it was.”
Unfortunately, Samomo wasn’t able to discover which courier delivered the letter to Asebi’s room.
“I asked around,” Samomo said, “but they all said they didn’t deliver it. The same day I asked everyone, I found this letter on my writing desk.” She produced a thin letter from a pocket sleeve. “One of the couriers delivered it there.”
The letter was, as expected, addressed to Asebi in beautiful handwriting that was instantly recognizable. Heart pounding, she read its contents. The letter expressed generic concern for her well-being. There was no mention of the other mysterious letter or her mother.
After a while, Asebi received a reply from her father. He, too, expressed his concerns for her health. Regarding the topic of her mother, he only wrote, “I cannot write about that in a letter.”
“I’ll write to my father again,” Asebi said. “I’ll also write a letter for the courier who put the letter on Samomo’s desk. Can I entrust the letters to you, Ukogi?” Asebi asked.
“Yes, duchess. I’ll put the letter for your father in Samomo’s desk drawer.”
Samomo was just as curious as Asebi was about the mysterious letter-sender. She faithfully passed Asebi’s messages to the courier who’d delivered the first letter to her desk, and she received all the replies on Asebi’s behalf. Samomo was the bridge between Asebi and the letter-writer. A secret correspondence had begun.
The contents of all the letters that Asebi received were frustratingly vague. She found out nothing about her mother’s mistake or what she could do to avoid the same trouble.
The day before the Star Festival, Asebi sat at her writing desk with a half-finished reply letter in front of her. A lingering sense of unease made her brush pause on the page. She was in a gloomy mood.
“Duchess,” Ukogi said. She leaned her head through the doorway. “What are you doing in here all alone?”
Asebi discarded her half-finished letter. “Nothing. I was thinking about displaying some kimono.”
It was common practice in Sakura Palace to display beautiful clothes on garment racks. The garments could be changed with the season. Displaying clothes in this way made them into decorative art pieces.
Asebi selected a kimono from the closet, and then turned back to Ukogi.
Ukogi was frowning.
“Is something wrong?” Asebi asked.
“That kimono is made of sappan wood silk,” Ukogi said.
Ukogi was right. This kimono was made from the length of red silk that Masuho no Susuki had given to Asebi as a gift. The kimono was very beautiful, but Ukogi’s sense of pride would not allow it to be displayed in the Spring Hall.
“Consider the message it would send,” Ukogi said. Her frown turned into something more lamenting and tragic, as if she were a put-upon heroine in a play. “Redecorating is a fine idea, but displaying a gift from a duchess from another family isn’t done. It’s not acceptable.”
Ukogi’s scolding tone caused Asebi to shrink into herself. “I’m sorry. I just don’t have many clothes that are suitable for this season, so I thought… No, I’m sorry. I was wrong.” She lowered her head.
“You do not have to display anything, duchess,” Ukogi said. “To think that you were going to display that thing the night before the Star Festival! How utterly thoughtless!”
Ukogi took the sappan wood silk kimono from Asebi’s hands and balled it up in her fists. Seeing the beautiful fabric wrinkled and ruined made Asebi terribly sad.
***
The Star Festival was one of five annual imperial court festivals held in Sakura Palace. During the festival, the duchesses of Sakura Palace would present fine and beautiful clothing to the Crown Prince.
According to an ancient legend, the Yatagarasu originated in a distant land called Morokoshi.2 In Morokoshi, there was a famous story of two lovers who were only allowed to see one another once a year, on the night of the Star Festival. One of the lovers was a woman skilled at sewing and weaving, which were prized skills in Morokoshi. Girls prayed for improvement to their sewing skills during the Star Festival. It was also acceptable for girls and women to reveal their secret feelings for men while the festival was being celebrated.
In the past, women would spend a whole year sewing two fine kimonos for the man they loved: one to wear themselves, and the other to give to the man of their affection.
In more recent times, spending a whole year making two garments was considered unnecessary and stuffy. Very few women had the sewing skills to sew kimono, even in the imperial court.
The duchesses in Sakura Palace weren’t expected to sew kimono by hand. Asebi herself would be presented with pre-sewn garments, and, following instructions, she would pass a needle through them once or twice. These garments would then be worn at the Star Festival ceremony. This process was likely the same for the duchesses from the other families.
Asebi passed through the Midsummer Gate on her way to the cherry blossom viewing stage where the ceremony would take place. There was an altar on the stage surrounded by offerings for the ceremony. The altar was surrounded by wooden stands displaying threads and fabrics in five different colors. Sewing tools like gold and silver needles rested on some of the stands.
Garment racks stood near the seats of the four duchesses and their attendants. These garment racks were there so that the duchesses could present their kimonos for the Crown Prince. Each pair of garments was divided so that one was worn and the other was hung on the rack.
Masuho no Susuki was late. Some of the ladies-in-waiting remarked on this in soft whispers.
“Where is the duchess of the Autumn Hall?”
“I do not know. Should someone fetch her?”
Before a messenger could be sent to the Autumn Hall, Masuho no Susuki arrived. Her attendants were all dressed in dazzling clothes and accessories, but they were nothing in comparison to their mistress.
Masuho no Susuki’s kimono was truly magnificent. It was modeled after ravens with outstretched wings—red ravens and golden ravens. From the center of the collar to the sleeves, delicate, feather-shaped patterns spread out in a smooth, radiating design. The hem of the kimono had a similar pattern.
Gasps of admiration echoed in the hall.
As Masuho no Susuki took her place, it became obvious that her kimono was not a single dyed piece of fabric, as was customary. The kimono was made of many layers of different-colored fabric, all sewn together. The color of the kimono shifted with the light. Asebi watched the kimono’s color change from a brilliant red to a gentle pink as Masuho no Susuki swirled into her seat. It was as if Masuho no Susuki were wearing a piece of the sunset sky itself. She looked like a red raven spreading her crimson wings.
The kimono placed on Masuho no Susuki’s garment rack for the Crown Prince was equally impressive. The golden fabric of the kimono had been cut into thin wedges shaped like feathers. The edges were embroidered in gold and silver thread with fine detail. The fabric rippled like water as light passed over it.
All of the kimonos prepared for the Crown Prince were very fine, but the one prepared by Masuho no Susuki was truly special.
“This kimono was sewn by Masuho no Susuki herself,” Kikuno said with pride.
Ladies-in-waiting from the other houses expressed admiration and disbelief in equal measure.
Masuho no Susuki nodded to Kikuno. “Yes. It’s true. This kimono is my creation. I spent an entire year making it, and no one assisted me.”
Murmuring and whispers echoed around the hall.
“Surely that was made by a skilled servant, and not the duchess herself,” a woman said, pitching her voice to be heard.
Masuho no Susuki glared at the woman. “I will take those jealous words as admiration. I love the Crown Prince. How could I possibly allow another woman to sew a kimono for my beloved? I had to make it myself for the sake of my own feelings.” She sighed. “It was easy. Thinking of him made it all possible. When I present this kimono to him, he will know who cares for him the most.”
As she spoke, Masuho no Susuki looked at different people in the hall. Her gaze finally rested on Asebi.
Asebi felt some embarrassment for not putting more effort into her own kimono. Shiratama likely felt the same way. Hamayū remained unruffled as always.
There was a tense silence after Masuho no Susuki’s speech. Hamayū broke it, smiling a little. “This extravagance will do nothing for you,” she said to Masuho no Susuki. “Your beauty is wasted here.”
Masuho no Susuki said nothing in reply.
Fortunately, the Crown Prince’s arrival was announced a few moments later. Masuho no Susuki’s face lit up with joy. Asebi found it difficult to maintain her own composure.
The Crown Prince’s carriage flew through the Midsummer Gate, drawn by four glossy horses. The windows of the carriage were covered by bamboo blinds. Only the hem of the Crown Prince’s purple robe was visible as the carriage landed smoothly on the ground.
Asebi’s heart skipped a beat. She wished that Masuho no Susuki wasn’t here. She didn’t want to meet the Crown Prince with her present. Even so, she couldn’t tamp down her own excitement.
“His Majesty the Crown Prince has arrived!” the carriage driver announced. He bowed deeply, then rolled up the carriage’s bamboo blinds. The carriage doors opened.
The ladies gathered on the stage leaned forward as one.
The person who stepped out of the carriage was not the Crown Prince, but his unfortunate attendant. The same boy who had transformed into a bird and disrupted the Boys’ Day Festival stood before them. A purple robe that was far too large for him draped over his shoulders and trailed down over his other clothing. He pressed awkwardly against an open carriage door, face twisted into a frown of deep distress.
“You again!” someone shouted.
“I am terribly sorry!” the attendant cried out. With great speed, he jumped down from the carriage and prostrated himself on the ground, pressing his forehead to the stage. “His Majesty was unable to attend due to urgent business. He asked me to convey his sincere apologies to you all.”
“This must be a cruel joke,” Chanohana said. “Isn’t this the same excuse that the Crown Prince used to miss the Boys’ Festival?”
Several ladies-in-waiting and attendants went pale. It was bad form to talk back to a servant of the imperial family, especially when they were designated to speak for a member of that family. They were just as upset as Chanohana, but they contented themselves with complaining to their peers.
“What is going on here?”
“I can’t believe this!”
“Why isn’t the Crown Prince here?!”
The taut tension in the hall devolved into panicked chaos. The Crown Prince had not visited Sakura Palace even once since his investiture. He was missing the Star Festival now—a festival that he was obligated to attend by both tradition and law. This had to be a deliberate snub.
Chanohana focused all of her rage and confusion on the Crown Prince’s attendant. “What is the meaning of this spectacle?! The carriage you arrived in is reserved for the imperial family’s use. Why did you ride in it instead of the Crown Prince?”
“The Crown Prince was riding in it,” the attendant said. “He was urgently called away, as I said. It happened at the last second. I truly am very sorry.”
Gasps of surprise and outrage broke out around the stage.
“I delivered a message to the Crown Prince while he was on his way here,” the attendant said. “He told me to take the carriage here myself and deliver his apologies. It wouldn’t do to send an empty carriage.”
“And did he order you to don his purple robe as well?” Chanohana shot back. “Everything about how this scene was staged is misleading and hurtful. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
“If you take issue with the Crown Prince’s orders, you should complain to him directly,” the attendant answered brusquely. He was not accustomed to being spoken to in such a rude and confrontational way, and his anger briefly got the better of him.
Chanohana frowned in displeasure. She opened her mouth to retort, but Princess Fujinami cut her off before she could say another word.
“What was the urgent matter that made my brother leave so suddenly?” Princess Fujinami asked the attendant.
The attendant turned to Princess Fujinami, who was sitting in a place of honor. He was careful not to look directly at the princess. He lowered his gaze and bowed his head low. “The Lord of Nishiie strictly exhorted the Crown Prince to attend the Star Festival,” he said.
Asebi glanced sidelong at Masuho no Susuki. The Nishiie duchess was pretending nonchalance. She held her fan in front of her face and looked around the room in an absentminded way.
“At the last moment, however, the Crown Prince was invited to a grand feast at a certain lord’s residence,” the attendant said. “His attendance was earnestly requested, and he could not refuse.”
“And who is this ‘certain lord?’”
The sharpness in Fujinami’s tone caused the attendant to falter.
Princess Fujinami commanded the attendant to answer.
The attendant took a deep breath, and then straightened his shoulders. “The Lord of Nanke requested the Crown Prince’s attendance.”
Surprise and confusion erupted around the stage.
“What a thing to happen!”
“How terrible!”
“So the Crown Prince set aside the wishes of the Lord of Nishiie, choosing to favor Nanke instead?!”
“What is the Lord of Nanke trying to do? Is he trying to create a deeper rift between Nishiie and Nanke?”
Hamayū’s dry, amused laugh silenced the aggrieved murmuring of many voices.
“I told you so, didn’t I?” the Nanke duchess asked. “Your beauty is wasted here.”
Masuho no Susuki’s eyes went wide.
Hamayū folded her arms gracefully over her chest. Her exceptional height allowed her to tower over Masuho no Susuki in a display of strength and power.
Masuho no Susuki’s cheeks reddened.
The attendant got to his feet and faced the open carriage doors.
“Wait, where are you going?” Chanohana called out. “You cannot ride in an imperial carriage!”
The attendant jumped up onto the balustrade that circled the stage in one practiced, fluid motion. Beyond the balustrade was a steep cliff. Asebi winced as the attendant jumped off the balustrade.
Black wings spread across the evening sky. The attendant had transformed into his bird shape and was flying swiftly away.
Asebi’s mouth fell open. Princess Fujinami tugged gently on her sleeve, which snapped her out of her shock.
Princess Fujinami bit her lip. “My brother didn’t come, but this had nothing to do with you,” she said. “Please don’t be discouraged.”
Asebi blinked. Fujinami was worried that she might try to leave Sakura Palace again. She hadn’t thought about leaving even once since she’d decided to stay. She nodded at Fujinami’s words.
“I’m all right,” Asebi said. “Please don’t worry about me.”
Some part of her was relieved that she wouldn’t have to meet the Crown Prince with Masuho no Susuki present, at least not tonight. She didn’t want to watch the Crown Prince show affection to Masuho no Susuki, or vice versa. She was just as surprised as the other duchesses and ladies were at the Nanke family’s political maneuvering. The Nishiie family had tried to make this evening happen for Masuho no Susuki, but they’d been thwarted by Nanke.
By the time Asebi thought to look for Masuho no Susuki again, she had already left the stage.
***
Masuho no Susuki shattered a mirror on the floor. The loud crash made Kikuno shrink back in fear.
“Kikuno, you fool! I told you to come back with a proper report!”
The mood inside Sakura Palace had been glum since the night of the Star Festival. The duchesses rarely spoke to one another. Even their servants maintained strict distance from those serving in the other halls. The duchesses had withdrawn into their own residences; they didn’t even step outside into the palace gardens.
Masuho no Susuki’s depression was gradually eclipsed by anger. Every day that passed in confinement made her more cruel. There were few dependable targets for her rage. Masuho no Susuki spent her days crafting elaborate punishments for Kikuno, breaking disposable objects, and indulging her anger, which was always simmering just below the surface of her skin.
Sumio, the Yamauchishu who had spoken for the Crown Prince’s attendant after the boy had transformed during the Boys’ Festival, was a servant of the Nishiie family. He and Kikuno had grown up in the same village. Masuho no Susuki commanded Kikuno to visit Sumio to get information.
“Whatever it takes. Find out everything that Sumio knows about the Crown Prince and that attendant,” Masuho no Susuki snapped. “Now!” Her face contorted into a demonic snarl.
Kikuno couldn’t refuse an order, especially not one that her mistress was so passionate about. She arranged a meeting with Sumio, though it took some fabrication on her part. She pretended that her mother was desperately ill so that she would be permitted to leave the palace.
Sumio was not noble-born, but he’d worked his way up through the ranks of the Nishiie family’s retainers by sheer merit. He now served the Crown Prince directly. He’d known the Crown Prince since childhood. If they had not been born to such different statuses in life, it wouldn’t be too strange to call him the Crown Prince’s close friend. His connections at court were not Sumio’s only advantage, either. He’d graduated at the top of his class from the Kesoin, the academy that trained the Yamauchishu. After being inducted as an official member of the Yamauchishu, the Crown Prince had hired him into his service.
Kikuno managed to meet with Sumio in their village. The information she heard from him wasn’t exactly helpful.
“I’ve heard that the Crown Prince is sending a lot of messages to Sakura Palace lately,” Kikuno said casually. “Who is he sending those to?”
“Why do you ask?”
Kikuno swallowed hard, feeling a sense of foreboding. “Well… I mean, there are plenty of explanations, I suppose. I just wondered if you knew if the Crown Prince was corresponding with any of the duchesses. Maybe he’s just being polite and exchanging greetings, for all I know.”
Sumio nodded. “Indeed, there is more than one explanation for increased correspondence from the Crown Prince.” But then he frowned.
“What? What is it?” Kikuno asked.
“It’s strange, but I don’t recall any messages coming from the Crown Prince to the Lord of Nishiie of late,” Sumio said. “If you are noticing more messages from him at Sakura Palace, then I do not doubt your observations. I can only tell you that the messages he sends do not come to Nishiie often.” He blinked, then rubbed his chin. “Come to think of it, I met the Crown Prince a little bit before the Doll Festival. He seemed excited to attend the festival.”
Kikuno also remembered that day well. She didn’t recall all of the details, but Sumio must have been among those who accompanied the Crown Prince to the cherry blossom viewing stage.
“One of the other attendants asked the Crown Prince why he was in such a good mood,” Sumio said. “The Crown Prince answered, ‘It all reminds me of seeing the cherry blossoms when I was young.’ That was all he said.”
Kikuno tilted her head in confusion. “Do you have any idea what he meant? You’ve known the Crown Prince for a long time.”
Sumio sighed wearily. “Well, over the years, there have been quite a few mischievous people who took him outside the palace walls.” He spoke evasively, but Kikuno suspected that he was actually talking about himself. “He has a reputation for being frail and reclusive, but he’s neither. I think he was talking about one of the times he slipped his leash and went out of the palace in disguise. He met someone then. Someone special to him. I think that’s what he was talking about.” He paused. “The Crown Prince has told me that he has a special attachment to cherry blossoms, though he’s never said why. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was in contact with the person he saw back then.”
Kikuno bit her lip. If this was true, it was certainly an unpleasant turn of events. “Has the Crown Prince said anything about our duchess?” she asked.
Sumio didn’t answer immediately. When he spoke, it was like he was hand-selecting every word. “I have heard that she is a fine young lady, both intelligent and beautiful.” He showed no inclination to say anything else. He stood up straight, his shoulders stiff and uncomfortable. “Well, I think we may have gotten caught up in idle talk. I should return to my duties.”
“As should I. I’m glad we could meet today. If there is another opportunity for us to meet soon, I would like to talk again.”
“Certainly.” Sumio excused himself politely, and then left.
Kikuno watched as Sumio transformed into a bird and flew over the mountain valley. She began composing her report to Masuho no Susuki in her mind. How could she phrase all this to please her mistress?
Masuho no Susuki had anxiously awaited Kikuno’s return. Kikuno chose her words carefully as she told the Nishiie duchess what Sumio had said. Before she was halfway through her report, Masuho no Susuki interrupted her.
“What is this I hear about the Crown Prince writing letters?” she asked. Her voice trembled with emotion. “I have received no correspondence from him. Kikuno, are you certain that this isn’t some kind of mistake?” She looked ready to drag Kikuno in by the collar and choke her.
“It is possible that the Crown Prince is writing to Princess Fujinami,” Kikuno said. “They are close, after all.”
Masuho no Susuki was too enraged to listen to reason. She screamed at Kikuno for her negligence and failure to ask a hundred detailed questions. Her tone was harsh, but she was rapidly losing her grip on all her emotions, including anger. She was completely devastated.
“His Majesty is a total idiot,” Masuho no Susuki declared. “I will not tolerate any cheating!” And then she wept. She flailed her fists helplessly around her, just as she’d done as a child throwing a temper tantrum. Kikuno had been her nursemaid since she was very small, so she’d witnessed many such tantrums before. She decided to leave her mistress alone for awhile so that she could calm down.
Kikuno stood up and slid open the door to Masuho no Susuki’s private chamber. The room she stepped into had an incredible view of maple trees dressed in their brilliant fall colors. A row of garment racks in the room all had deep red kimonos hanging from them.
Kikuno gasped in surprise. The light of sunset illuminated the kimonos hanging on the garment racks, making it look like a row of blazing red leaves had invaded the space. There were so many reds: the fresh, clean red of ripe fruit; the blazing red of fire; the deep red of blood.
This gorgeous scene was not what had evoked surprise from Kikuno. Standing among the dazzling display of fall colors was an unfamiliar lady-in-waiting.
An intruder.
“What are you doing here?” Kikuno shouted.
Translator's Notes
1 七夕: Tanabata, the 7th of July, is also called the Weaver’s Festival and the Star Festival. The Japanese festival originates from the Chinese Qixi Festival. It celebrates the meeting of the deities Orihime and Hikoboshi (represented by the stars Vega and Altair respectively). According to legend, the Milky Way separates these lovers, and they are allowed to meet only once a year. The date of Tanabata varies by region of the country, but the first festivities begin on July 7. The celebration is held at various days between July and August.↩
2 唐土: Morokoshi means “ancient China.” ↩
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