Yatagarasu Series
Volume 1:
Ravens Shouldn't
Wear Kimono
Author: Chisato Abe
Part 4: Winter
Section 3
Listen to this chapter!
Not long after that, reports came in from the Yamauchishu to Sakura Palace. They’d seen a suspicious figure on the grounds. Security increased all over the palace.
The next new moon was fast approaching. The moon waned by the hour. Shiratama told herself that she would not go, but she was at war with herself. If Kazumi entered Sakura Palace, he would almost certainly be discovered. She felt like she had to warn him somehow. She couldn’t write him a letter; she’d never written to a servant before. Chanohana would become suspicious if she tried. She wanted to avoid arousing suspicion. She didn’t want to cause any trouble for Kazumi.
In the end, she decided that she would have to go herself and tell him to leave as soon as possible. She couldn’t afford to stay in the same place for long, so she would have to be quick.
At last, the night of the new moon arrived. Shiratama waited nervously for the sun to set. Her other ladies-in-waiting were unusually tense that day, but she didn’t notice.
As the sun began to set in the west, Chanohana approached Shiratama with a bright smile. Chanohana carried a fine silk garment in her hands and presented it to her mistress.
“What is this, Chanohana? Wasn’t that outfit made to be worn for the New Year celebration?” Shiratama asked.
“Please don’t be too surprised when you hear this. I only just learned about it myself,” Chanohana said. “His Highness the Crown Prince will be coming to visit you tonight for the first time. Congratulations, duchess.”
Shiratama gaped in astonishment. Chanohana undressed her like a doll and put on the formal outfit she’d prepared. “The Crown Prince is coming here? Tonight?”
Chanohana nodded with satisfaction at Shiratama’s incredulous reaction.
“This is strictly confidential. He is only coming to see you, Duchess Shiratama, so be sure to keep it a secret.”
Chanohana was bubbling over with enthusiasm as she prepared Shiratama for her audience with the Crown Prince. Shiratama herself felt no such enthusiasm. Her hands were cold and her body felt heavier moment by moment.
This can’t be… why today, of all days? Shiratama thought. Kazumi was coming tonight, and now there was no way for her to warn him. If she tried to postpone the Crown Prince’s visit, she might never get another chance to see him.
She had thought she would be overjoyed when the Crown Prince finally came to see her, but she couldn’t honestly rejoice now. Not even the idea of a private audience that the other duchesses would not share caused her any spark of joy.
Shiratama had told Kazumi that she wouldn’t come with him several times. He should know that she wasn’t coming. Yes, she wanted to warn him of the danger of being inside Sakura Palace without permission, but would warning him even change anything? Kazumi would see that she hadn’t come to their meeting place by the appointed time, and he would leave. He’d be fine. He had a collaborator—someone who’d guided him inside last time. That person should be able to get him out. She found it hard to believe that anyone could sneak in and out of Sakura Palace at will, but Kazumi had already done that once. He should be able to do it again.
He’ll be fine, Shiratama thought to herself over and over again. I never said I would go. He’ll be all right.
Shiratama stood still and impassive as Chanohana moved around her, doing up her hair and putting on accessories. If she noticed Shiratama’s nervousness, she didn’t mention it.
For her evening meeting with the Crown Prince, Chanohana had dressed Shiratama in a karaginu with a glossy white base reminiscent of a snowy garden. The karaginu was adorned with pine needles that gradually shifted in color from pale purple to deep blue. Under the flickering light of a hanging lantern, the garment shone with a cold, ethereal brilliance. A thin indigo-dyed sash was wrapped around her arm, and white powder was gently brushed onto her cheeks. Her lips were painted a vivid red.
“All done, duchess!” Chanohana said cheerfully. “You look so beautiful,” she added with a confident nod.
Shiratama responded with an uncertain smile.
Chanohana and a few other ladies-in-waiting led Shiratama to a room they had prepared. Refined incense was already burning in the room’s corners.
Shiratama’s mind was preoccupied. She scarcely noticed her surroundings.
“Duchess Shiratama, I will wait in a separate room. If you need anything, please call for your attendants,” Chanohana said.
This meeting with the Crown Prince was formal and secret. Neither he nor Shiratama would have any attendants present in the room with them; that would be considered improper.
Not even a duchess’ wet nurse or close personal attendant was permitted to see the Crown Prince unless the Crown Prince himself gave permission. The Crown Prince had commanded privacy this time, so he and Shiratama would be alone in a room.
Shiratama spent some time alone, waiting. None of her ladies-in-waiting were present in the hall outside the room. If she wanted to sneak out and see Kazumi, now would be the perfect time.
Shiratama’s heart beat loud in her chest. The unfamiliar scent in the air heightened her tension. If she hesitated any longer, the prince would arrive. If she wanted to slip away, now was her only chance. But what if they passed each other by in the hall? What would the Crown Prince think if he found Shiratama missing from the room? He might feel slighted, think he had been rejected, and leave in displeasure. Or perhaps he would reprimand her for her rudeness and inform Chanohana of her absence. If that happened, her meeting with Kazumi would be discovered, and people would think she was having some kind of secret affair.
I’m a fool, Shiratama thought. I cannot go and see Kazumi now. How ridiculous of me to even consider such a thing.
She had told Kazumi to his face that she would not go with him. Why did her mind keep going in circles like this? Why couldn’t her decision remain firm?
I won’t go, I won’t go, I’m not going—I can’t go.
The sun set. Night’s shadows deepened around her. Shiratama did not move.
I wonder what Kazumi is doing right now, she thought. Most of her thoughts swirled around Kazumi. She hugged her knees to her chest, eyes roving around the cold, bleak room as if she were a caged bird. There was a bell hanging above the door that would ring when someone entered, but the bell remained silent. It was so quiet.
Has Kazumi given up, realizing that entering Sakura Palace is impossible? Is he sitting somewhere alone, hugging his knees just like me? Maybe. That would be all right. We’d both be in the same situation, and he would be safe.
There was no way for Shiratama to know where Kazumi was now. He might still be waiting for her. He could still be in trouble.
Shiratama shook her head to clear it. Even if Kazumi had managed to sneak inside Sakura Palace somehow, he wasn’t stupid enough to linger for too long and get caught. Kazumi is different from me, she thought. He is much smarter, kinder, and more attractive than I am. He shouldn’t be fixated on someone like me; there are plenty of wonderful women who would suit him better.
Thinking about other women—someone else—made her heart ache. Yes, there were plenty of women in the world who were kind and beautiful and genuine in their affection. Kazumi didn’t deserve Shiratama’s stubbornness, misplaced pride, and cruelty.
This is fine, Shiratama told herself. I’m waiting for the Crown Prince. Everything is fine. “Where are you, Crown Prince?” she muttered under her breath. “Hurry up already.”
She did not hope to be loved. She wouldn’t mind if the Crown Prince married another woman. She needed to enter the imperial court, and she wasn’t particular about how she got there. She would be happy enough to be a concubine. All the tension in her body knotted in her shoulders. She breathed slowly, keeping calm with deliberate effort. She had spent so much of her life nervous and uncertain. She wanted the Crown Prince to take that uncertainty away from her at last.
Shiratama shook as her nerves got the better of her. She rubbed her arms and breathed deeply, but the shaking wouldn’t stop. The room was dark now that the sun had gone down, and still the bell above the door did not ring. Impatient, she forced her mind blank and waited.
The Crown Prince did not come.
Sunrise intruded on Shiratama’s controlled self-possession. She had not slept. The sight of sunlight stunned her senses.
The sliding door where Shiratama’s attendants waited whispered open, revealing Chanohana. “Do you regret it, Duchess Shiratama?” she asked in a neutral tone.
“Regret what?” Shiratama asked hoarsely.
Chanohana raised an eyebrow. “I am asking if you regret not going to see the gardener’s son.”
Shiratama swallowed down something in her throat that was halfway between a breath and a scream. Her shoulders had stopped shaking during the night, but she felt like something within her was about to break apart. “So you knew. You knew everything, didn’t you?”
“If the Crown Prince were truly coming to see you,” Chanohana said, “we would have had a day to prepare, not an hour.” She snorted. “That much notice is customary in the imperial court. Nothing important is ever done in a rush. You would have known that if you’d thought about it enough to remember your etiquette.”
“Why did you lie to me?” Shiratama asked.
Chanohana frowned. “You ask a question with an obvious answer. I am nothing but your servant, duchess. It is not my place to tell you what to do directly. It is imperative that you make your own choices. It was my role to demonstrate to you the difference between men of the imperial court and commoner men.” Chanohana looked at Shiratama reproachfully. “Ordinarily, a mere servant such as myself would never presume to influence her mistress in any way. I never expected that the duchess I served would spare a single thought for a lowly servant.”
The expression of contempt on Chanohana’s face was so clear that Shiratama felt as if she had returned to the harsh lessons of her early childhood.
“Moreover, communicating with outsiders is something that the other duchesses do as well. I wanted to share with you what Asebi once told me. She spoke to me as if she already knew everything, saying, ‘You must be having a hard time,’ and made a show of offering her sympathy.”
Shiratama broke out in a cold sweat. Chanohana doesn’t know everything, she thought. Neither does Asebi. Asebi could have been offering sympathy for anything, because she feels sorry for everyone for no reason. She might not know my secrets.
“But now, I believe you understand things better, don’t you, duchess?” Chanohana asked. “You are a wise and noble lady. You are not so foolish as to forget your position due to a momentary lapse in judgment. You have chosen the correct path for yourself.” Chanohana puffed out her chest in pride. It was clear that she felt no guilt at all for lying to Shiratama. “I am glad that you understand that you must enter the imperial court no matter the cost.”
Chanohana isn’t on my side, Shiratama thought, stunned. She never has been.
Shiratama clenched her fists tightly.
Chanohana served Hokke. She would protect Shiratama and her reputation for the sake of her family, not for Shiratama’s own sake. The only one who’d ever put her first in his heart and in his thoughts was Kazumi. She stifled a gasp as one layer of protection around her crumbled.
“Where is Kazumi now?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Chanohana said. “And you should not worry about it, duchess.”
Continuing this conversation would be pointless. Chanohana wouldn’t tell her anything. Shiratama brushed past her and opened the door to the hall. The bell rang as she left.
“It’s already too late! You didn’t choose that path, so you must give up!” Chanohana called after her.
Shiratama ignored Chanohana. She ran desperately toward the cherry blossom viewing stage. Her breath steamed white in the cold air. The morning mist was blue and the trees growing at the foot of the mountain were shrouded in shadow. Shiratama remembered a morning just like this… but the dazzling white flowers were not here.
There was a commotion ahead of her. A sense of dread crept up Shiratama’s spine. More people ran around her, several bearing torches.
Women were shouting to one another in the hallway ahead. Shiratama heard them, but it seemed like they were far away. She felt as if she’d been submerged beneath the lake at the bottom of the Waterfall of Purification. All sounds were muffled, and her vision was blurred and unclear.
“He went that way!”
“He’s going to transform and fly off!”
“Don’t let him escape—ready your arrows!”
Shiratama rushed into the courtyard outside Wisteria Hall. Gardenias bloomed out of season all over the courtyard, their frenzied blossoms complicating the scene before her eyes. Women ran back and forth through the courtyard. Now that she was close enough, Shiratama recognized them as Fujimiyaren. They were all in uniform, and some carried weapons.
Shiratama looked up when she heard the flapping of wings. Large black raven feathers floated down from above. The raven in flight had been caught in a net and was being hauled down by ropes. The raven thrashed and struggled valiantly, but they could not escape the net.
A woman holding a long sword glared up at the raven as it slowly descended.
“Duchess!” Chanohana cried out from behind Shiratama. “Do not look! Come back!”
Shiratama kept running, but Chanohana caught up to her. Chanohana covered her eyes with one of her sleeves just as the sword swung down on the raven’s neck.
Silence fell in the courtyard. The birds chirping among the gardenias went silent as the raven’s heavy wings slid onto the ground. Shiratama heard the steady dripping of water from somewhere. The iron scent of blood washed over her.
Shiratama shoved Chanohana’s sleeve away from her face. She looked, and she saw it. Blood on the yellow gardenias. More blood gushing from the raven laying collapsed on the ground.
Blood everywhere, sickening. Choking the air.
The Fujimiyaren started cleaning up the mess in a matter-of-fact way. They didn’t seem to notice that Shiratama was there. They rolled the body of the raven over roughly and called out instructions to the Yamauchishu who had just arrived.
A severed head with a beak lay in the center of a pool of blood after the massive body was dragged away. The eyes of the beheaded raven were wide open and shining like glass beads. Shiratama looked into those eyes and felt them challenging her—judging her.
Then the Fujimiyaren took the head away, leaving nothing behind but the blood.
“Duchess Shiratama?” Takimoto asked. “What brings you here?” She was dressed all in black and holding a sword edged with red.
“There was a loud noise,” Chanohana said. “My mistress awoke and was concerned, so we came here to see if there was trouble.”
There were holes in Chanohana’s improvised story. Shiratama was dressed for a formal meeting with the Crown Prince; she was not in her nightclothes. It was obvious to everyone that Shiratama had not just woken up due to a noise.
Takimoto knew that Chanohana’s excuse was a flimsy one, but she made the swift decision to accept it as given. “I apologize for the noise,” she said. “However, as you can see, the matter has been dealt with. There is nothing to worry about. Please return to the Winter Hall.”
Shiratama didn’t move.
Takimoto gestured to the pool of blood. “This intruder,” she said, “was obviously connected to Samomo’s death in some way. He must have asked Samomo to steal from the Autumn Hall. He managed to obtain the beautiful kimono that Masuho no Susuki made through Samomo. Perhaps he and Samomo fought over the kimono and he ended up killing her. So much seems plausible. With her gone, he attempted to steal on his own, and we were finally able to catch him.”
Chanohana nodded sharply. “Your discernment is impressive,” she said. “As expected of one of the Fujimiyaren.”
“Later, I will gather everyone and explain the details in full. Is that acceptable?” Takimoto asked.
“Of course,” Chanohana said. “No problem at all.”
Takimoto appeared openly relieved. She returned her attention to the cleanup efforts inside the courtyard.
Chanohana put herself at Shiratama’s side. “Come, duchess,” she said. “We have absolutely no connection to that intruder. Is that clear?”
“Chanohana…”
Chanohana sighed, exasperated. “Please compose yourself, duchess. Your future depends upon your conduct. Takimoto doesn’t wish to court trouble, and we shouldn’t cause any for her. How would it look to Princess Fujinami if Takimoto reports to her that we stayed here too long?”
“No,” Shiratama said quietly.
“No?” Chanohana tilted her head, confused.
“That wasn’t Kazumi,” Shiratama said.
“Of course it wasn’t,” Chanohana said. She smiled in understanding, but her smile collapsed at the corners when she saw Shiratama’s eyes. “Duchess?” she asked.
“That wasn’t Kazumi. It’s not him. Absolutely not.” Her voice was quiet and full of conviction, but her eyes were vacant.
“Duchess Shiratama…”
“No, no…”
“Please pull yourself together, Duchess Shiratama,” Chanohana said. She tried to lead Shiratama out of the courtyard, but Shiratama wouldn’t budge.
“I told you, it’s not him!” Shiratama shouted, startling Chanohana. The Fujimiyaren cleaning near them exchanged glances full of alarm.
“Duchess Shiratama,” Chanohana said firmly, “let us return to the Winter Hall. Come.”
“I said it’s not him. It’s not, it’s not! It’s almost laughable. Where did Kazumi go, I wonder? He didn’t come after all. Such a coward. How terrible. Everyone around me is a liar!”
Shouting angrily, Shiratama turned and walked back toward the Winter Hall, her footsteps loud and forceful. Chanohana, still bewildered, tried to follow after her.
Shiratama suddenly spun around. Her gaze was fixed on the courtyard. The scent of blood still lingered in the air. A drop of blood fell from the tip of a gardenia petal onto the ground.
“It’s not true,” Shiratama said softly. She looked up at Chanohana. “Ah, there’s such a terrible smell.” Her formal kimono contained traces of the scent. She would have to tell Kazumi to put more flowers in the incense burners again.
The thought steadied Shiratama somewhat. She resumed her walk back to the Winter Hall, saying, “You know, I actually like the scent of mosquito-repelling incense the best.” Her anguished expression eased into one of blissful innocence. Her formerly shadowed, vacant eyes sparkled with joy.
By the time she returned to the Winter Hall, no trace of trouble remained on Shiratama’s face.
***
Shiratama did not respond to the summons that Takimoto made to explain the presence of the intruder.
***
The room around Shiratama was scattered with folded paper cranes. Hamayū placed a hand on her shoulder. Shiratama gave her an absent-minded sort of look.
“That intruder was… someone you know. Someone you are quite close to,” Hamayū said.
Shiratama’s eyes went round and huge like glass marbles as she broke out into hysterical laughter. “What an amusing thing to say! Do you think I was secretly involved with someone? Nothing happened between me and Kazumi. Absolutely nothing! After all, I was born solely so that I could enter the imperial court. I would never do anything to put my future at risk.” She laughed brightly like a young child.
Something inside Shiratama had broken.
Asebi stared at the hysterical Shiratama, her own face tense with worry. What could have happened to her? All trace of the gentle, refined girl she’d once been had vanished.
“And you know,” Shiratama continued, her eyes wide, “That wasn’t Kazumi at all. It was someone else.” She looked up at the ceiling, her gaze unfocused and dreamy. “Kazumi always watches over me. Even if we can’t meet, he promised his feelings for me would never change. Even now, somewhere, he’s thinking of me.”
Shiratama’s voice shook as she said, “That thing lying on the ground like so much dust—it’s just some corpse!” Shiratama burst into broken laughter.
Hamayū watched Shiratama, saying nothing.
Chanohana stood next to Asebi, stunned silent.
Shiratama finally stopped laughing. Her eyes fixed on Hamayū, her face and movements crazed. “I will be chosen as the Princess of Sakura Palace. You must know and understand that as well. Nanke and Hokke have a secret alliance. There is no turning back from that now.”
“That’s not true,” Hamayū said tonelessly.
“What?” Shiratama asked. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“There is no alliance,” Hamayū said. “I never presented your proposal to the Lord of Nanke.”
“Huh?” Shiratama stood frozen, at a loss for words.
“You were bluffing when you came to me the first time,” Hamayū said. “Did you think I would not notice?” She sighed in exasperation. “You have your sources of information. I have mine. Hokke is not trying to cooperate with Nanke within the imperial court. Nanke is not easily swayed by verbal promises. If your desire for alliance was genuine, Hokke would have supported you at all points. They didn’t. You were bluffing, and I knew it.”
“You’re wrong,” Shiratama said. “Why would Nanke sabotage Saike during the Star Festival if they didn’t agree to an alliance with Hokke?”
“Nanke had its own reasons,” Hamayū said. “That sabotage was not for your benefit. If you thought it was, you deceived yourself. Since you tried to deceive Nanke first, you have no right to blame me.”
No one said a word after that for a long while.
Shiratama gaped at Hamayū in shock. Then she giggled, and then she laughed again, closing her eyes.
“Go to hell,” Shiratama said. Her voice broke on the last word. She didn’t sound like a noble lady at all. “I have no obligation to stay silent anymore. I will reveal everything to you all. Listen carefully,” Shiratama said.
Shiratama spun toward Masuho no Susuki and Asebi. “You should know that Hamayū is not one of us,” she said. “She is not a duchess of Sakura Palace. She was adopted from among the commoners.”
Silence fell over the room. No one dared to refute Shiratama’s words, not even Hamayū herself.
“Yes, adopted,” Shiratama said. “Her father was a commoner—maybe even a horse! She does not have the status required to enter the imperial court,” she said with gleeful delight.
“Wait a moment,” Masuho no Susuki said. She stepped between Shiratama and Hamayū. “Your own lady-in-waiting said that such adoptions were no longer permitted for a host of reasons! Why would you accuse Hamayū of such a scandal?”
Chanohana had the grace to look ashamed of herself.
Shiratama looked back and forth between Chanohana and Masuho no Susuki, seeming supremely pleased with herself. “Well… it is possible that her commoner bloodline was noble in the past.” She looked up at Masuho no Susuki through half-lidded eyes, her eyelashes casting long shadows on her cheeks. The corner of her mouth lifted in a sarcastic smile.
“For example, what if she were the daughter of the deposed Lord of Nanke, who lost his status for political reasons?”
Shiratama’s question sparked an early memory of Masuho no Susuki’s. She recalled a lot of strife in the imperial court after the former Crown Prince was deposed in favor of his half-brother. She was too young to know most of the details of that firsthand, but she remembered Nanke’s general circumstances at the time.
Empress Oumurasaki was the Lord of Nanke’s only daughter. She had wed the Emperor and given him a son. Then the Saike concubine, Izayoi, gave birth to another son, and the succession was decided in favor of the younger prince without any explanation being given.
The Lord of Nanke at the time had expected that his daughter would wed the former Crown Prince, but now his plans were in disarray. He was deposed, but Masuho no Susuki didn’t know what had happened to him after that. The leadership of the Nanke family had passed to someone else. Masuho no Susuki thought that the Lord’s younger brother had taken his place, though she wasn’t sure.
Hamayū had always said that she was the daughter of the Lord of Nanke. No one had asked her which one.
“So you’ve figured it out, have you?” Hamayū asked Masuho no Susuki. “It’s true: I’m not the daughter of the current Lord of Nanke.” She offered the Saike duchess a wry, resigned smile. With a calm composure, Hamayū continued, “The current lord is actually my uncle. I was adopted and then officially presented at court. I’m sorry for deceiving you all.”
“But if that’s the case, then you haven’t done anything wrong,” Masuho no Susuki said. It was uncomfortable for her to defend Hamayū’s lie even if it wasn’t a very consequential one, but she felt that she owed Hamayū some defense against Shiratama’s insane accusation. “It’s not unusual at all for families to adopt children from among their relatives! So why should you have to apologize for that?”
“The problem lies with the reason my father was deposed and exiled,” Hamayū replied. “Otherwise, why would a noble lady, connected by blood to the imperial family, be forced to live as a mere commoner?” She shook her head. “Well, here’s the answer: The Empress could never forgive the woman who gave birth to the new Crown Prince.”
Masuho no Susuki shuddered at how calm Hamayū sounded. “She couldn’t forgive her… what does that mean?”
“It means that my parents murdered Izayoi,” Hamayū said.
Asebi gasped.
Masuho no Susuki mouthed the word “murder” silently. Izayoi had been her aunt. Everyone told her how much she looked like her. Izayoi had given birth to both Princess Fujinami and the Crown Prince. The Emperor had adored her. Yet she had died young—too young. Masuho no Susuki often wondered if her aunt had any regrets when she died. She had missed so much of her children’s lives; no mother would want that.
“There’s no way that could be made public,” Hamayū said, shaking her head in resignation. “If something like that became known, the survival of the Nanke family would be at risk. Before the imperial family could pass judgment on my parents, my uncle had them beheaded. He tried desperately to cover up the whole affair. After that, he took over as the Lord of Nanke.
“As for me,” Hamayū said with a self-deprecating laugh, “I was young enough to escape execution, but I was stripped of my status. I was placed under house arrest, unsure of when I’d be executed like my parents. I escaped and lived among the commoners for ten years.” Even now, Hamayū sounded perfectly calm. If she was angry about anything in her past, she didn’t let that anger show.
“Fortunately, my uncle is a reasonable man. We made a deal, and he restored my status.”
“What deal?” Ukogi asked hoarsely.
“I have a stepsister,” Hamayū said smoothly. "She’s the only legitimate daughter of the current Lord of Nanke. Her name is Nadeshiko. Her father dotes on her. For some reason, he absolutely doesn’t want her to marry the Crown Prince. But at the same time, having a duchess from another family enter the imperial court would weaken the Nanke family’s position. So he thought to use me in Nadeshiko’s place, though he doesn’t intend for me to wed the Crown Prince, either. What my uncle ordered me to do was obstruction.”
Hamayū smiled at Masuho no Susuki: a soft grin that was almost friendly. Then she faced Shiratama again. “Shiratama, you might not believe this, but I wasn’t just sent to Sakura Palace to fill my family’s slot. My uncle sent me here to prevent other duchesses from entering the imperial court. He told me to sabotage Saike and Hokke. No one expected me to enter the imperial palace from the start. My only purpose here is to interfere with the other duchesses. That is why my clothes are not as fine as all of yours and why my ladies-in-waiting do not show me due consideration as their mistress. Now that Shiratama has revealed my true status, there’s no need to keep up appearances anymore,” Hamayū said with a cynical smile.
“You there,” Hamayū said, gesturing to Ukogi. “Were you the one who asked Takimoto to search my room in the Summer Hall?”
Ukogi blanched, but said nothing.
Hamayū smirked. “I see. While you three were gathering for banquets and tea parties, I snuck into your rooms and stole letters from the Crown Prince addressed to you all.”
“No way,” Masuho no Susuki said.
“Yes,” Hamayū said. “Every time he missed a ceremony, he would dutifully write to you all—and me, too. I wouldn’t get too excited. It’s just the usual pleasantries and words of obligatory apology. But he did write.”
Shiratama burst into screaming sobs. “Why?” she asked. “Why? If I had known that, I could have waited forever! I… I caused his death. Me. If it hadn’t been for me, he would be alive,” Shiratama wailed. She clutched at Hamayū’s kimono. “Give back Kazumi! Call back yesterday; give me my day back! You heartless girl!” She struck Hamayū.
Asebi watched the scene unfold, not sure what she should do.
Shiratama kept shouting, “Give him back! Give him back!” over and over again. Her neatly arranged black hair was now disheveled, and her bloodless face had turned as pale as a corpse. The former Shiratama was lost and couldn’t find her way back to the realm of the sane. She screamed and cried and laughed, biting her mouth so hard that blood dripped steadily from her lips.
It was terrifying. Terrifying, intense, and so beautiful it sent chills down Asebi’s spine.
She was more beautiful than Hamayū, who reproached her with a blank expression. She was even more beautiful than Masuho no Susuki, who had lost her voice from sheer shock. She was the most beautiful of all the duchesses.
Asebi was awed by Shiratama’s terrifying beauty. Shiratama wasn’t wearing any makeup, nor was her clothing neatly arranged. How could anyone expect dignity or grace from a woman in such a half-crazed state? She was not beautiful in the usual sense. She was not gentle or elegant at all. And yet, she was beautiful. So beautiful that watching her made Asebi want to weep.
Masuho no Susuki slapped Shiratama hard across the face, only once.
Shiratama collapsed to the floor, holding her reddening cheek in one hand. She appeared stunned.
Masuho no Susuki stood over Shiratama, breathing heavily with one hand raised. “Enough!” she called out. “Enough of this!” She lowered her raised hand slowly to her side. “You were waiting for a letter? Why?” she asked incredulously. “Was your resolve to marry the Crown Prince so weak that you doubted him simply because he sent you no letters? How foolish. You are obviously unfit to enter the imperial court.”
Shiratama’s shoulders trembled and fresh tears coursed down her cheeks, but Masuho no Susuki showed her no mercy.
“Blaming others solves nothing. Stop behaving so disgracefully!” Then, riding the momentum of her scolding, Masuho no Susuki turned to face Hamayū. “I do not believe you, not entirely. Who your parents were and what they did shouldn’t matter. You are a woman of great pride. There’s no way you would resort to such petty tricks for another’s sake.”
Hamayū gave Masuho no Susuki a sad smile. “Sorry to disappoint you, Masuho no Susuki.”
“Tell me it’s a lie… Please say it’s not true!” Masuho no Susuki shouted, her voice tinged with disappointment.
“Everything I said was true,” Hamayū said, forcing a pained smile. “And this isn’t the end of the story. In fact, this is where the real tale begins.” Hamayū’s face clouded over. “Don’t you find this situation strange? Why doesn’t my uncle want Nadeshiko here instead of me? Why doesn’t he want his daughter to marry the Crown Prince?
Asebi tilted her head in confusion. It seemed to her that Hamayū was focusing on the wrong questions.
“Nanke does not act out of emotion or sentiment,” Hamayū said. “The family does not posses such temperaments, as a rule. Nanke intends to disinherit the current Crown Prince. Most likely, Nadeshiko will act coldly toward him. Her true goal is to become the wife of his older brother, the former Crown Prince. If the current Crown Prince loses his position or becomes unable to perform his duties, then the position of Crown Prince will return to his older brother.”
Asebi frowned. “Surely Nanke wouldn’t go so far,” she said in a shaky voice.
“Oh, but they would,” Hamayū said. “The current Emperor can return to secular life if the new Golden Raven gives him permission. He doesn’t have the power or the determination to resist Nanke’s desires. When the Crown Prince’s older brother is restored to his rightful position, Nadeshiko will marry him, and they will rule over Yamauchi from now on, sending the current Emperor into an early retirement. That is the future that the Nanke family envisions.”
Masuho no Susuki tapped her chin. She was suspicious about all this. Why would Hamayū reveal so much of her family’s plans to all the other duchesses? What was her purpose for doing that?
“So now you know,” Hamayū said. “I was the karasudayū all along. I was sent here to prevent the Crown Prince from forming a strong alliance with one of the other families.” She grinned. “Perhaps it would have been better for me to remain as a commoner. Or for me to have kept this all quiet.” She shrugged. “But honestly? I’m tired of interfering in other people’s love lives. So I’ll be escaping now.”
Hamayū shrugged off the kimono she’d been wearing, revealing a jet-black garment underneath it. “One last thing before I go. If you ask me, being with the man you love isn’t the only path to happiness for a woman. Never let yourself lose sight of your own happiness.”
With that, she waved a hand lightly and then stepped over to a round window that Shiratama had opened before.
There was no time to stop Hamayū. She transformed into a large black raven in the blink of an eye and spread her glossy wings wide. She jumped through the window and then flew straight up into the sky, soaring over the mountain valley. She grew smaller and smaller in the distance and was soon out of sight.
Hamayū was gone, leaving the remaining three duchesses of Sakura Palace behind.
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