Smoke in the Sun (Flame in the Mist #2)(20)
She bowed once more, careful to avert her gaze until addressed.
“Hattori Mariko.” The empress spoke in a high-pitched tone, almost girlish in its lilt. “Welcome to the Lotus Pavilion.”
Inhaling through her nose, Mariko lifted her gaze.
Her Imperial Majesty Yamoto Genmei, Empress of Wa, rose to her feet in a seamless motion, a warm smile spreading across her features. She appeared small and delicate, swathed in a peach kimono. But her presence was nevertheless commanding, especially for a woman who had just lost her husband. Mariko had first thought she might find the empress in mourning, but it did not appear to be the case. She seemed determined and at ease in her station. Perhaps it was because within the same breath, the empress had lost her husband and also gained a son in the seat of power.
It appeared that fear and sadness did not suit the occasion.
Mariko concealed her surprise at the unabashed kindness in the empress’s expression. After all, Mariko was betrothed to the son of the previous emperor’s beloved consort, and everyone in the land had heard the rumors of the empress’s distaste on the matter.
“It is an honor to meet you, my lady.” Mariko lent her voice the delicate melody of a songbird, just as she remembered Yumi doing in the presence of those the maiko had wished to impress.
“And it is my honor to meet the future wife of Prince Raiden.” The empress motioned with her hand to an empty space beside her. “Will you join me for refreshments?”
Mariko was led onto the low platform, a silken cushion positioned to the empress’s left. With Shizuko’s assistance, Mariko knelt upon the cushion as two small tables were brought forth. An array of food was placed upon each tray: rounds of colorful daifuku encircled by edible flowers in an inviting arrangement, a bowl of iced persimmons garnished with gold flakes, azuki beans covered in sugar, and tiny squares of pastel steam cakes. To one side sat a flawless white egg in a porcelain dish, still ensconced in its shell.
The sight almost brought a smile to Mariko’s face.
I wonder what the empress would do if I were to remove the shell as Yoshi taught me to do it.
In silence, similar trays were brought forth for all the ladies present. All the while, Mariko kept her eyes lowered, letting her gaze flit about the space covertly, trying her best to appear demure and at ease all at once.
An impossible feat.
Soft laughter danced around the room.
“You are quite a little doe, are you not?” the empress said with another warm smile.
Uncertainty took shape within Mariko. She had never been gifted at the art of conversation. Was the empress’s comment a compliment or a criticism? Or worse, was it a criticism veiled as a compliment? How best should she respond? Hand-wringing did not seem to be an adequate reply, nor did outright churlishness.
This was why Mariko had floundered around other women, especially girls her own age.
“If it pleases my lady, I am happy to be a doe.” Mariko bowed her head.
The empress laughed. “And if it displeases me?”
Mariko hesitated. She looked to the left, as though she were seeking assistance. Many of the other young women gazed upon her with pointed interest, even as they took dainty sips of their tea. And offered nothing by way of help. Several of them even tittered behind their hands.
Mariko took in a steadying breath. “If it displeases the empress, I am happy not to be a doe.”
Another ripple of amusement passed the empress’s lips. “How did you ever live for so long amidst a group of heathenish men, with such pristine manners? It appears you are relatively unscathed after your ordeal”—she paused to sip her tea—“or are appearances as deceiving as they all say?”
Mariko squeezed her eyes shut, steeling herself. Then she met the empress’s gaze, willing her countenance to appear earnest. Trustworthy. “They did not touch me,” she said firmly. “Their leader forbade it. I believe he meant to barter with my father to return me unscathed for a higher profit.”
“How very fortunate for you.” The empress quirked her head, the motion causing the jewels in her hair to flash as though in warning. “And rather fortunate for Prince Raiden as well.”
It appeared the rumors being passed through the nobility were correct. The empress did not have fond feelings for the son of her husband’s consort. Mariko knew the correct thing to do in this case would be to remain quiet and offer little in the way of opinion. It would not do for her to speak ill of her betrothed in an attempt to ingratiate herself to the empress. Were Mariko’s mother present, she would have urged her daughter to comport herself as all the other young ladies did at court—with nods and smiles and murmurs of agreement.
Mariko tried to smile. The empress did not return the gesture. Any suggestion of kindness on her features had vanished.
What does she want? What is she trying to do?
As though she could hear Mariko’s thoughts, the empress answered. “I’m sure you are curious as to why I asked to see you even before you were brought before my son. The emperor is keen to meet you, of course. He has great affection for his brother.” Her jewels flashed once more, like bladed mirrors.
Mariko lifted a small porcelain cup to her lips and pretended to swallow her tea. The rim of the cup was painted in liquid gold, the contents within it perfectly brewed. The scent alone told her so. Her heart thudded in her chest with such force that it caused her hand to tremble and the tea to slosh from brim to brim.