Emperor of the Fireflies Read online

  Ayaka did not like the way the conversation was going at all; there was an over-familiar air to the way the woman addressed Hotaru that was making her teeth itch with irritation. Of course, he must have known many other women before me. It’s naive of me to imagine that he shut himself away after Princess Aoi died. But to think that he’s been dallying with some other lady of the court – She stopped herself. Dallying? That was an old-fashioned word, more suited to one of the old court romances that she used to love to read.

  As the flute’s thin, pure notes flowed out into the night again, she turned away, and began to slowly, thoughtfully, make her way back to her rooms.

  Perhaps it is just a flute lesson. But why so late at night? And why couldn’t he have found a man to teach him?

  As she turned the corner, she saw Ochiba-san and two of her maids hurrying down the corridor to meet her, their hair undressed, as if they’d just tumbled out of their beds.

  “Imperial majesty!” cried Ochiba. “Where have you been? You mustn’t leave your rooms without a bodyguard.”

  “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to worry you,” Ayaka heard herself saying mechanically, although the apology seemed to issue from someone else’s mouth.

  “If anything were to happen to you, I and your maids would take the blame.”

  Ochiba continued to berate her as Ayaka let herself be marched back to her rooms, thinking to herself, Have you forgotten that I’m the empress? Shall I remind you? I could have you severely disciplined for daring to address me so disrespectfully. But somehow the prospect of crushing Ochiba did not appeal. Lady Saisho will only appoint another priggish young noblewoman in her place.

  “I do hope that your majesty was not behaving in an indiscreet manner,” continued Ochiba when they reached her rooms. “You really must consider your position here at court.”

  “Indiscreet?” Ayaka realized that Ochiba was implying that she had slipped out to visit an admirer.

  “If you were seen, the rumors would start.”

  The injustice of such an accusation infuriated her, especially after the intimate conversation she had just overheard between her husband and the unknown lady. Before she could stop herself, she raised her hand and slapped Ochiba-san. Hard. The harsh sound of the slap was followed by Ochiba’s little gasp. A red mark appeared on her white-powdered cheek. Tears glittered in her dark eyes.

  “Go,” Ayaka said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Leave me alone.” Her fingers and palm still tingled. The slap must have hurt. “All of you.”

  Ochiba backed away and suddenly turned and fled, the other maids following.

  As soon as they were gone, Ayaka flung herself down on her futon and sobbed.

  I should never have hit her. Now she’ll hate me. I’ve made an enemy And I need allies so badly. But why did she have to make such horrible insinuations?

  “Oh Reika, if only you were here.” And as she whispered her faithful maid’s name aloud, she realized that she had no alternative: she must find a way to get Reika back.

  Chapter 25

  The instant Ayaka saw her mother’s face she knew that she was in trouble.

  “Ochiba, please serve tea to my mother’s attendants in the anteroom,” said Ayaka, hoping that refreshments would keep the ladies from eavesdropping on their conversation. She was bitterly disappointed to see that Reika was not part of her mother’s entourage.

  Ochiba, without a word, bowed and led them away, leaving Ayaka and Princess Omiya alone together.

  As soon as the sliding door was closed, the princess rose and slapped Ayaka. Then she settled herself down again on her silk cushion, head held high, rose-rouged lips pressed tightly together.

  “Why, Mother?” Ayaka asked, as soon as she could find her voice.

  “You know perfectly well why.”

  “No, I don’t.” The slapped cheek had begun to sting. Ayaka’s eyes filled with involuntary tears but she was determined not to cry. “Tell me.”

  “I don’t care if you’re the empress. You’re still my child and I did not bring you up to mistreat your servants.” Princess Omiya turned her head to fix Ayaka with the full force of her furious glare. “Yesterday I had a visit from the general’s wife, Lady Higekuro no Tamakazura – and she was not at all happy about the way you treated her daughter Ochiba.” The princess gave a sharp little sigh of exasperation. “To be frank, Ayaka, the woman is from rather inferior stock. Not a drop of royal blood in her veins. I really should not have to listen to her complaints about your behavior. If her husband had not been promoted by the emperor, I doubt that their precious Ochiba would ever have been given this position in your household.”

  Ayaka blinked, trying to keep track of what her mother was rambling on about.

  “But I digress. The real problem here is that you slapped the girl when she was only expressing concern for your safety – and you were behaving outrageously. A married woman, sneaking around the palace late at night without an escort; whatever were you thinking?” The princess paused to draw breath. And all the unhappiness that Ayaka had been secretly nursing suddenly erupted as tears began to stream down her cheeks.

  “My dear,” her mother said, surprised. “What’s wrong?”

  Ayaka wanted to blurt out her feelings but she could only flap one hand ineffectually as sobs shook her body.

  The princess shuffled a little closer, drawing her heavy train after her. “It’s not marital troubles, is it?” she said in a more intimate tone.

  Ayaka nodded, reaching for a handkerchief to try to wipe her streaming eyes and nose.

  “Ah,” said the princess, putting her arm around her daughter and patting her shoulder. “You can confide in me, Ayaka. I won’t say a word outside this room. His attention isn’t straying already, is it?”

  Already. The implications of that single word made Ayaka’s tears begin to flow again. I’m not pretty or clever enough to keep Hotaru amused. I’m not skilled in all those exotic erotic practices described in Lady Ukifune’s Pillow Book.

  Her mother shuffled even closer.“He hasn’t seduced Ochiba, has he?”

  “No!” Ayaka answered, all indignation. The very thought – !

  “Then what’s upset you?”

  “He’s been seeing a woman. For flute lessons. Late at night. I don’t know who she is – but I can guess,” Ayaka added with venom.

  “Flute lessons late at night? That does indeed sound like a pretext for something else,” observed her mother. Ayaka shot a distraught look at her, silently pleading for a different response. “Of course,” the princess continued, “it is also possible that he is just taking flute lessons, nothing more.”

  “In secret? With a woman?”

  The princess leaned in closer. “You may have to accept the fact that your husband already has a mistress or two in the palace. All the past emperors have kept official concubines. It’s just a fact of imperial life.”

  Ayaka could hardly bear to listen to what her mother was saying. “But I thought he loved me.” She felt betrayed. If even Hotaru was unfaithful to her, then who could she trust? She forced herself to ask, “Do you know which court ladies my husband was seeing before he met me?”

  “That’s irrelevant. We have a domestic crisis to resolve.” Her mother snapped open her fan – painted with her favorite white peonies – and began to wave it pensively, wafting cool air toward Ayaka. “There’s nothing for it, Ayaka, but to swallow your pride and make peace with your new chief lady-in-waiting. You’re going to have to find a way to resolve the situation before it gets out of hand.”

  Ayaka hardly heard her; she was still seething inside with confusion and insecurity over Hotaru’s strange behavior.

  What would Reika advise? She’d give me one of her severe looks, one eyebrow raised, and tell me not to jump to conclusions so swiftly.

  “Reika,” she said aloud. “I want Reika back.”

  The fan froze in mid-waft. “And how would that make matters better?”

  Ayaka did not
meet her mother’s piercing gaze, concentrating instead on picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. “Because Reika understands me and my capricious nature.”

  “Capricious?” Her mother echoed the word in an arch tone. “My dear girl, it’s high time you learned to stop relying on Reika and took control of your own household. But I suppose it couldn’t hurt for you to have an extra pair of hands. If you promise me to smooth matters over with Ochiba, then I’ll see what I can do.”

  ***

  “Thank you, imperial majesty, for this generous gift.” Ochiba looked up from the open box in which lay a jacket with exquisitely embroidered sleeves, her face utterly expressionless. “The pattern of willow leaves is very skillfully done.”

  “I thought it would go well over your pale green gown,” Ayaka heard herself saying and then stopped. Why am I trying to placate her? She’s never going to forgive me; she’s not that kind of person. But would it hurt her to attempt a smile?

  “And your mother has sent one of her own servants to help care for your clothes.” Ochiba clapped her hands and a young woman, neatly and soberly dressed in the plain robe worn by the more menial servants, came in and prostrated herself.

  “Reika?” Ayaka cried. And then she realized that Ochiba was staring at her with an expression both arch and disapproving. She forced herself to assume a more formal, detached tone and said, “I am glad to have the services of such a skilled seamstress. I trust the other servants will make you welcome.”

  “Thank you, imperial majesty,” Reika said, not raising her head.

  “Go back to your work now, Reika,” said Ochiba in clipped tones.

  Reika left, head still respectfully lowered, and Ayaka’s gaze followed her wistfully.

  Is this how it has to be between us now? If only I could think of a way to improve her status so that she could be by my side all the time.

  ***

  “It’s my mother’s birthday today,” Ochiba said to Ayaka as she fixed a plum-flower comb in the empress’s newly combed hair.“Will your imperial majesty be so good as to excuse me for an hour or two to go to take her a gift?”

  “But of course.” Ochiba gone for a few hours? Ayaka had been biding her time for just such an opportunity. “You must take her a pot of our favorite peony perfume.” As she raised her arm to gesture to the lacquer perfume pots, she noticed that a little thread had come loose on her outer sleeve. “And please remember to give dear Lady Tamakazura my very best wishes.”

  When Ochiba had departed and Ayaka was certain no one was watching, she gave the loose thread a sharp tug, making the seam gape open.

  “Oh dear,” she said loudly, holding up the damaged sleeve. “This needs to be re-stitched. Could someone call Reika, the new seamstress?”

  “If you remove the garment, I’ll take it to her,” said Miruko, the youngest and liveliest of her ladies-in-waiting. “Let me help you into another jacket, majesty.”

  Ayaka pouted. “But this is the one I want to wear today. It’s exactly the right shade of plum red. And it’s already been delightfully scented with plum blossom perfume. Reika’s very skilled at performing a swift repair.”

  Miruko opened her mouth as if to protest and then closed it again, before hurrying away.

  I wonder whether Ochiba has instructed them to keep Reika away from me.

  A little while later, Miruko returned with Reika, armed with her thread and needles, following at a respectful distance behind her.

  Ayaka allowed Miruko to remove the plum-colored jacket and watched as Reika, eyes averted, concentrated on the task she had set her.

  “I must have caught it on a thorn in the courtyard garden,” Ayaka said to no one in particular. “And. . . Oh dear, where is the matching plum blossom hair-comb? Did it fall out in the garden?”

  Her ladies hurried outside to search, just as she had hoped, leaving her alone with Reika who was seated at a respectful distance, engrossed in her repair work.

  Ayaka drew in a deep breath and said, “Reika, I want you to teach me how to defend myself.”

  “Self-defense?” Reika’s brows shot up. Ayaka noted to herself what honest, unplucked, unfashionable brows they were. “May I ask why?”

  “You know very well why. A certain dragon dog that turned into a. . .well, I’m not sure what he turned into. If Kuri was a malicious gift from someone within the palace who wishes me and Hotaru ill, then I need to be prepared for all kinds of possibilities.”

  “I’m sure Ochiba-san and the other ladies would be horrified at such an idea.”

  “Then teach us all. We have to learn to dance – so why not how to use a staff or a sword?”

  Reika burst out laughing and then clapped one hand over her mouth.

  “What’s so funny about that?” Ayaka demanded.

  “I apologize, majesty,” Reika said, her shoulders still shaking with suppressed laughter. And suddenly, Ayaka caught it too; a vision of Ochiba and her painted ladies trying to execute a display of martial exercises floated across her mind.

  “Ochiba-san will do as I command and the others will be obliged to follow her.” Ayaka stared defiantly at Reika who merely gazed back at her, silently challenging her to justify herself. “And that’s why I’ve chosen you to train us.” Reika knew her too well; she could deceive the others, but Reika saw through all her little wiles. And Reika would not treat her like a piece of fragile porcelain. “It’s not so different from a dance lesson, after all. Learning steps, moves. . .”

  “What’s happened, my lady? Has anyone threatened you?”

  Ayaka heard herself laugh the question aside but this time the laugh was forced and she glanced away, unwilling to let Reika see how vulnerable she was feeling.

  “I’m well enough protected,” she said and then followed through before Reika could question her further. “A display of martial arts is not that different from a dance. Surely it would be possible to teach the moves like a dance. . .even to use some of the court musicians to play as we practice? To give a firm beat?”

  Reika was silent a moment and then she pressed one hand to her mouth to smother a laugh.

  “Well?” Ayaka was growing impatient. “Would it work? What would we need?”

  “A large, flat enclosed space: a courtyard or a secluded hall.” Reika began to count the items off on her fingers. “Sturdy lacquered bamboo sticks; to practice with real naginata would be too dangerous. Well-padded jackets to avoid the risk of bruising. Sensible hakama to allow freedom of movement.”

  Ayaka was impressed. “And if anyone – such as Lady Ochiba – finds my idea inappropriate or unbecoming, I shall inform her that we’re rehearsing an ancient clan dance for the Autumn Moon Festival and that it would be an insult to my family to refuse to join in.”

  ***

  “Making a spectacle of ourselves with bamboo staves?” Ochiba looked outraged. “But suppose you were seen? The empress, cavorting, waving a stick – and with bare feet?”

  “And how is that any different from rehearsing for, say, the Bird Dance in spring?”

  “But the empress does not participate,” Ochiba said stiffly. “Ex-empress Yasuko never took part in any of the court dances.”

  “Perhaps she didn’t care to.” Ayaka was determined not to be dissuaded. “Whereas I love to dance! So it’s decided,” she continued swiftly, before Ochiba could think of another reason to dissuade her.

  The sound of a firm stamp, matched to a shrill, warlike shout, interrupted her. They all looked around to see that Lady Miruko, feet bare, bamboo stave gripped in both hands like a spear, had begun to perform a series of moves with a ferocity that quite surprised Ayaka.

  She stopped suddenly, stave in mid-swing, and lowered the staff, letting out an apologetic giggle.

  “My older brothers taught me,” she said. “Our castle is in the north and we’ve been attacked by bandits more than once. The boys said I should know how to defend myself and our mother.”

  “But that’s splendid!” Ayaka burst out, runn
ing over to join her. She was warming to the diminutive Miruko. “You and Reika could spar together and show us all how it’s done.”

  “I can show you how to hold the stave, if you like?”

  Ayaka kicked off her sandals and allowed Lady Miruko to place her hands on the bamboo shaft as Reika looked on.

  “Look, Reika,” Ayaka said triumphantly. “Now I’m ready.”

  Reika hesitated – then took up one of the staves and adopted a stance. “Come at me, my lady,” she said to Miruko. Miruko didn’t hesitate but whooped a blood-curdling war cry and attacked. Ayaka leapt back out of the way and the other ladies shrieked. But Reika skillfully blocked the stroke and with one forward thrust and twist of the wrist, sent Lady Miruko’s stave flying up into the air to roll away across the mats.

  “Forgive me, my lady. I hope I didn’t hurt your wrists.” Reika bowed and went to retrieve the stave for her. Miruko was staring, her mouth open.

  “That was. . .amazing,” she said. “You’re a real warrior, Reika. Please teach me how to do that move.” The other ladies applauded enthusiastically.

  “What is this racket?”

  Ayaka turned to see Lady Saisho standing in the doorway, her exquisitely painted face twisted into a mask of displeasure.

  “We are learning how to defend ourselves,” she said.

  “But you have no need, majesty,” Lady Saisho said in chill tones. “You are surrounded by bodyguards. The empress should be devoting herself to more appropriate pastimes: painting, poetry, making incense, music. . .”

  “Music?” Ayaka repeated, seized with a sudden unpleasant suspicion. “Such as playing the flute?”

  Lady Saisho only hesitated for the blink of an eye before replying crisply, “Whatever instrument it pleases your majesty to learn. But these martial arts are not a suitable way for the empress of Cipangu to pass her time.” And she gave Ayaka a graceful bow before sweeping out in a soft swirl of silk brocades, leaving Ayaka speechless.