by Stone, C. L.
Ryuu continued to read books and picked up what he could about the royal court and politics, local and abroad. He seemed to have such a knack for economics. Sota had me focus on how to walk in the high-soled wooden sandals while wearing a kimono. I also practiced bowing, learning how low to bow depending on rank. With Shima, I practiced table manners with him, using customs local and foreign.
Apricot came by, shooing the guys out and giving me a lesson on how to flutter my eyelashes, how to hold my hands to look like butterflies instead of spiders, and how to lean in and whisper in someone’s ear without touching, among other lessons on how to flirt without going overboard.
“How is this all important?” I dared ask her after I moved my hands how she showed me, tucking in my thumb and separating my index and pinkie fingers from my middle and ring. It was a hand pose I had to learn to accept something into my palm politely. “Shouldn’t I be taught politics, too?”
“You can’t be expected to learn everything in a few weeks,” Apricot said. “You’ll have Sota and Ryuu to inform you in conversation as you go. The important part is to look like royalty. If you are chosen, you’ll be representing His Majesty in your new position. And elegance says a lot about a person.”
I sighed, slumping where I stood for a moment. “I don’t know what position I’ll be offered. What’s to say I don’t end up a maid or working in a stable? I grew vegetables in my village. It’s the only real thing I know.”
Apricot came forward. She was fully dressed in a delicate orange silk kimono, her face painted, her hair done perfectly, and a ribbon tied to her neck. “Look at me, Mizuki.”
I faced her but lowered my eyes like I should when addressing someone of her rank.
“I mean look at my face,” she said. “Look.”
I did. Her delicate features were exquisite. Her poised red lips were puckered as if she were kissing the air. She tucked her hands into the kimono’s sleeves. She was as perfect as the canvases of art hanging around Mrs. Satsu’s home.
“You’re beautiful,” I said.
“And I’m respected.” She positioned her hands in different ways like I had been practicing. “You’ll learn, Mizuki, that I am not that different from you.”
I gasped at hearing her say such a thing. She’d grown up in such different conditions, and I was so out of place next to her.
She continued, “You are well educated and do not crumble at the mere thought of doing something for yourself. Other girls are spoiled, demanding, belittling others. They will create more enemies than friends. The only way you can gain control over the pettiness is to rise above it. And you can do that by looking the part, being kind, and giving others the confidence to believe in you.”
“You can’t dress a cow and expect it to be a swan,” I said.
“I expect to dress you as royalty,” she said in a tone that told me I better not suggest any differently. “I expect you act the part, despite your own feelings. Do you think it will be easy for me to be an empress, if I’m selected?”
“You should be chosen,” I said. “I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t be.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever feel like an empress,” she said. “But I will behave as if I am one, and my subjects will treat me like one. I will be seen as I’m acting, not as I’m feeling.” She leaned in until I could barely hear her whisper. “Hide your doubt, Mizuki. Hide your fear. Never let them see it. Not even Sota. It is the hardest burden you will be ever asked to bear, but it will be the most important. There will be few times where you are alone, and when you are, cry. Get into a rage. Let all the tension out. But for them...be royal. Because despite our own desires, we do it for them. For what we can give to the people we care about.”
Do it for them. I imagined how Ryuu and the others had looked when I had fallen to pieces after Mrs. Satsu had spoken with me. I pressed my lips together, sizing up her advice.
I didn’t need to feel like I fit in. I just needed to be good enough at pretending, and others would accept it.
Do it for them.
I straightened my posture and held my hands at my sides like royalty. I held my position until my hands cramped and my calves started to shake.
Apricot watched and nodded, the slightest smile curving her delicate lips.
“Who do you do this for?” I asked quietly. “I mean, potentially marrying the emperor. Do you do this for your escort?”
“No,” she said. “I mean, yes, but not really. My mother, partially.”
I didn’t know who else was in her life, but when I turned, her attention was drawn to the window, seeing something beyond, in the city.
“Where did you go the day I arrived?” I asked. “You left, running off before your escort could catch you. Did you go to meet someone?”
She shook her head and refocused on me. “Someone I can never see again.” She turned from me and went for the door, leaving me alone for a moment.
I wondered if I had pressed her too far. I hadn’t realized that even though I had no one, she might have had someone she cared about—someone she’d be leaving behind if she married the emperor, a complete stranger to her.
I prayed for her happiness, mostly because if a nice person like her, a possible future empress, couldn’t be happy, how could anyone else?
How could she be less happy than a poor girl from a small village, trying to survive?
THE SINGING OF THE WALL
THE NEXT FEW DAYS SEEMED to pass too quickly. I felt I needed more time to prepare, and yet I couldn’t get enough reading or practice in before I was ordered to sleep at Sota’s demands.
I feigned sleep, instead going over in my mind what I had learned that day, and preparing myself for the following lessons. I often woke up right at dawn, and before the others had finished getting dressed, I was already reading. I read during breakfast, and while Sota washed my body in the evenings, sometimes taking turns with Shima.
I never returned to the bathhouse. I barely left the room.
One evening, three days before we would register, Sota finally allowed Ryuu and me out into the streets of Kuni. Shima had left several times through the weeks to go to his oxen. The Taka left every morning and returned every afternoon. Sota went often to fetch us whatever we wanted. It was Ryuu and I who had become too accustomed to staying in the room.
“There’s a festival tonight, outside the city,” Sota said in his deep voice. “Everyone else will be attending it. The streets will be clear. It’s a good time to take a walk. I think we need it.”
Over the weeks we had worked together, I’d gained weight in my breasts and hips. The meals prepared had fattened me a little, giving my previously bony body some shape. Not a lot—not enough to be desirable, I felt. My muscles ached to do something, given how active I used to be.
However, I was terrified of leaving. “Shouldn’t we stay?” I asked. “I need to read more on foreign politics.”
“You need real exercise,” he said. “And practice walking in public spaces.”
“What about...the people who have tried to sabotage me?”
“If they will strike tonight, you’ll have three others with you,” he said. “And we will remain aware.” He stepped closer to me, the lightness of his eyes seeming to glow. “A flower cannot remain indoors if it wants to lead a full life.”
“You made that up.”
For the first time, the corner of his mouth lifted enough on his usually calm face. “It’s true.”
That night, he told the maids to bring makeup and one of the kimono from the storeroom.
Unfortunately, the kimono that had been removed had been unfixable. The smell had stayed and couldn’t be covered with perfumes. However, Apricot had loaned me one of hers to wear, for practicing tonight and also for the inspection.
I was nervous even wearing the kimono tonight. I felt I could ruin it just by looking at it.
I waited in the room, kneeling by the table, as Sota brought in his supplies. He sorted them out on the tab
le, cleared of the Taka’s cage.
The Taka sat in the window, whistling a tune I hadn’t taught him. I wondered if he had picked it up while out on his adventures. I envied him, with his ability to fly off whenever he wanted, not concerned with registrations or rank or competition. He hunted for food, ate from a plate when his hunts lacked success, and then sang and slept, occasionally talking himself to sleep repeating things he had heard that day.
While Sota was busy, I reached out to the Taka, attracted to his fine white feathers. The blue hue in the tail had become more vibrant. The whiteness seemed to glow on occasion with how bright and clean the feathers were.
When my hand neared him, the Taka stilled. His eyes fixed firmly on me. He allowed me to scratch his head, and then his neck. He angled himself as if letting me know it was okay to touch his back and wings. I did so delicately, and he chirped a couple of happy notes.
Ryuu came closer, watching as I petted the Taka. “We should take him tonight.”
“Really?” I asked. “In the cage?”
Ryuu shook his head. “No, I mean on your shoulder. Get him used to it. And you.”
“I can’t take him into the royal court with me, can I?”
“In some instances, you might want to,” he said. “He’s very rare, and worth a fortune. There must be a good reason why they are desired among other birds and beasts.”
I pondered why such a bird would be wanted, outside of his beauty and his singing ability. There were birds just as beautiful, just as able to sing. Was his rarity the reason?
“Are you ready?” Sota asked me.
I sighed but rose, leaving Ryuu trying to feed the Taka a nut from his palm.
Shima stood by Sota, ready to learn.
At first, Sota seemed ready to dismiss them both, but then he reconsidered. “You’ll both need to learn how this is done.”
Sota would request items, pointing to them, and the others would pick them up, holding them for him.
Sota dressed me in an under-kimono lining and tied a little padding to my frame so the kimono would sit correctly on my body.
Once those were in place, he worked some magic on my face with makeup much like Apricot had shown me how to do. My face became white, like a ghost, and then colored with different pigments.
Soon, my face disappeared, and in the mirror, I was as doll-like as Apricot had been.
I wasn’t myself.
And in a way, that mask gave me the comfort and confidence to lift my head and be tall and poised like I was supposed to be. It was as if no one could tell I was nothing but a poor fisherman’s daughter. Instead, I was someone regal and poised and sophisticated.
Sota dressed me in the second kimono layer, a plum silk with gold dragons dancing across it, much like the wall. The obi he tied at my waist was a rich hunter green. The fabrics were the softest silks, such as I had never before felt on my skin. I kept touching the sleeves, and Sota kept swatting my hands. “Keep still,” he said.
I was told to kneel appropriately. I remained on the floor, my knees cushioned by a pillow, as Sota did my hair. He explained to the others how to dip the comb into melted wax and then draw the comb from my scalp to the tips of my hair.
“The wax keeps it shiny, resistant to moisture, and positioned just where you want it.”
When my hair was just the way he wanted it, he added ornaments and jeweled combs to it. The weight of them, along with the wax in my hair, made my neck stiff trying to hold it up.
He drenched my wrists in bracelets. He slipped my feet into wooden geta. As a final touch, he delicately tied a red ribbon around my neck.
When I was finished, I turned slowly in the geta in a small circle and took a small walk around the room as instructed. I stumbled only once, although once I balanced myself, I took it very slowly. I was afraid of doing damage to any of the things I had been given. The bracelets and ornaments sometimes knocked together, so I had to practice keeping my head and body still to keep them quiet.
I didn’t think I was as graceful as Apricot, but Shima and Ryuu seemed impressed.
“I can’t even tell it’s you,” Ryuu said, his mouth hanging open.
Sota remained placid, but he did seem to stand taller, and he kept his hands positioned at his sides. “Get used to it,” he said. “This is what she’ll look like every day in the near future.”
His confidence in me made my cheeks heat. “I’m not so sure I will get used to it. I have to go through this every day?”
“It depends on the position you are given,” he said. “But I can’t imagine you not claiming a seat in the royal court. If so, it may mean you’ll dress like this at all times. Everyone will be watching what you are doing, so you must remain perfect.”
Shima tilted his head, squinting at my face. “I don’t think I like it,” he said.
After, Ryuu brought the Taka to me. He rested on my shoulder, occasionally clutching one of the ornaments hanging from my hair in his beak.
“Take that one out,” Sota said to Shima. “The Taka will be enough.”
Shima took it out, and the Taka seemed to settle more comfortably.
It took some practice to get down the steps to the main floor so we could take our walk. Ryuu assisted by holding my hand so I wouldn’t tumble. Shima remained at my back. Sota guided us, but not by walking ahead of me; in the near future, he said, that might be forbidden. Instead, he remained by my side, indicating delicately with a look or a slight turn when I was supposed to follow. We practiced in the small green garden between the buildings before stepping out the front door.
Once we were out in the open air, the breeze felt divine on my skin under the silk kimono. It was just right to electrify my senses. This gave me a sense of wanting to remain outside, and I was eager to see the city. The Taka fluttered his wings a couple of times, but he remained on my shoulder, as if he knew he was supposed to stay.
Ryuu was in a man’s dark blue silk kimono, looking refined, but without makeup. Sota was wearing his regular kimono top and had his leather pants and boots. Shima dressed similarly, walking next to Ryuu.
When we were outside, Sota kept his voice down as he instructed us.
“Ryuu and Mizuki should walk together,” he said. “And Shima should walk behind. I will stay with him.”
“We don’t know the way,” I said.
“You won’t get lost,” he said. “This is our place.”
I glanced back at Shima, noting his kimono and pants. “Are you changing your mind about registering? Will you be an escort?”
Shima nodded. “I will not pass,” he said. “I know this. My best chance is with you, but Sota is your escort.”
“What if I don’t make it?” Ryuu asked. “Can she have three escorts?”
“She may assign you to different parts of her palace,” Sota said. “It depends on—”
Ryuu cut him off. “The position she is given. We know.” He grumbled, “Mizuki, whenever you get your position in the royal court, you may need three escorts. You may tire of Sota telling you what to do all the time.”
Ever since I’d broken down after the kimono had been destroyed, they’d stopped bickering as much. I wasn’t sure if they’d agreed to disagree or if they’d refrained from doing so in front of me. It was the first time I’d noticed their squabbling returning.
“It’s still strange to have you walk behind us,” I said. “I feel like you’re watching us.”
“I am,” Sota said.
Ryuu grunted.
“Don’t do that,” Sota said.
We were directed to walk to the side of the road, where the paths were cleaner. The streets were mostly clear, as almost everyone was at the festival. We could hear the rush of people enjoying displays of magic, music and dancing, even if they were blocks away. The music followed us, flutes and drums carrying over the night air.
“One day you’ll go to a festival,” Sota said behind me as we passed behind another house to walk in its alley.
“We
could go now,” Ryuu said.
“Not tonight. We don’t want to run any further risks. We don’t need any more trouble now.”
I agreed with him. We were so close to the date when Mrs. Satsu said we should register. “One day,” I said. I listened to the music, foreign to me as our village had very few musicians at all. It had been a long time since I’d heard any.
We took streets between and in front of homes and buildings that were mostly dark and seemingly unoccupied. We passed few people, several of whom glanced at my direction and then took to the center of the road, avoiding looking at me directly.
It was an odd feeling having people avoid my eyes when for so long, I had avoided others’.
“Keep your eyes up,” Sota often whispered behind me.
It was easy for me to forget to do so.
Eventually, we found ourselves close to the wall. The closer we got, the louder the sound of stone grinding against stone became as the dragons slithered against each other. The noise was constant in the city, but where we lived, it was like the ocean back home. It was there, but in the background until you got close to the shore.
To my surprise, the rows of homes and buildings ended after another block. Surrounding the wall was an elegant garden, with ponds and pathways and lush green grass and trees.
I hadn’t realized how I had missed grass and trees until I saw them. The small garden outside the Mrs. Satsu’s home was all I’d had for so long, and it didn’t have the same smells. The garden around the wall was a spot of calm amid the rugged buildings of the city. Even the loudness of the wall didn’t bother me.
“Why is this here?” Ryuu asked.
“It’s too loud to live here,” Sota said. “So space was made for gardens.”
“I think it’s lovely,” I said. “You don’t have to walk too far to enjoy it.”
We took paths around the gardens. I relished the stillness of ponds. I dreamt of being able to walk barefoot in the grass again, but wouldn’t dare now. It was good enough for me that I could enjoy this little bit of peace. The lushness and smells crept into my system until I felt like I was back home, lying against the grass, enjoying a breezy afternoon.