Tokyo Ever After: A Novel (Tokyo Ever After #1)(38)

While Their Imperial Majesties Emperor and Empress Takehito are out of the country on an official visit to Vietnam, their son His Imperial Highness Crown Prince Toshihito has stepped out on the town in a flurry of unofficial public events with his daughter, Her Imperial Highness Princess Izumi.

On Monday, the two attended the 42nd Asia-Pacific Festival and Charity Bazaar in Tokyo. While walking and viewing, the princess went ahead of her father to greet His Excellency Ambassador Sam Sorm at the Royal Embassy of Cambodia handicraft booth—a literal misstep. Guess no one informed the princess that she should have waited for her father, the Crown Prince, to say hello to his Excellency first. It’s most likely the princess was merely honoring one of her own American traditions. Ladies first, isn’t that what Westerners often say?

On Wednesday, the two attended a gallery opening. Princess Izumi struck up a conversation with attendee and controversial artist Yoko Foujita, who has been a critical opponent of the imperial family. Imperial Household handlers were quick to curtail the conversation, but The Tokyo Tattler managed to get an exclusive picture of the two chatting (see inset).

Finally, on Thursday, the father-daughter duo was spotted at the opening season baseball game. They were seen in the imperial box, wearing matching hats and sharing a cup of kakigōri (see inset, picture of HIH Princess Izumi pointing at the players). Later, the two greeted the opposing teams, and the princess seemed to favor one of the players too long.

Prime Minister Adachi’s wedding is up next—the entire imperial family will be attending officially, with the exception of the emperor and empress. One person not on the guest list? The prime minister’s sister, Sadako Adachi. The two have been embroiled in a nasty feud since Sadako penned a scathing tell-all accusing the prime minister of infidelity and having ties to the yakuza. It’s rumored the prime minister fired a staffer for mentioning his sister in his presence. Too bad reporters won’t be allowed inside the überposh wedding and reception. Like the rest of Tokyo, we’ll only be able to watch from the sidelines. But what a view it promises to be …





15


“There.” Mariko carefully pushes a final pearl pin into my hair, then steps back to assess me. My lady-in-waiting blocks the full-length mirror. Her chin dips in approval. “You’re ready.”

She shifts, and I see myself. Well, she’s certainly worked her fairy godmother magic. My nails have been buffed, shined and painted a nude color. No more kinky pink for me. My bangs have been trimmed into a blunt edge that skims my brows. My hair twists into a low bun and is adorned with freshwater pearls. My floor-length gown is silk jade and shimmers in the light.

Mariko places a matching clutch in my hands. It’s light. “Lipstick and some cover-up, in case you get shiny. Oh, and I put your phone in there. But please keep it on silent.” I arch an I-can’t-believe-it brow at her. Most days she’s hiding my phone, playing keep-away with it until after I finish the day’s task.

She trails me to the front door and rattles off more instructions. “Make sure to walk behind your father when entering a room. Only speak to people you’ve met or know. I wish we’d had time to go through photographs of everyone attending and sort out their political affiliations, but just don’t show any favoritism. And don’t point.” The last few days, Mariko was quick to note when I made mistakes—at the charity bazaar, art gallery opening, and baseball game. My sins are many.

I keep walking, a nervous knot forming between my brows. It might help if my father was here, but he has back-to-back events this evening. We’re meeting at the wedding. Akio will be my escort. Speaking of …

He stands in the middle of the living room in black tie and his hands at his sides. Some of my anxiety melts away. Whoa. Akio in formal wear. Slow clap.

“Do you need anything else?” Mariko asks.

“No. Thank you so much, though.” I keep my gaze trained on Akio.

“Just remember to sit up straight. If you need a moment, excuse yourself to the restroom…” She trails off.

Akio smiles at me. I smile dumbly at him. “I’ll let you know when we’re on our way home,” he says, keeping his eyes on me.

After a moment, Mariko says, “Of course. I’ll have the room ready for when she returns.”

Akio dips his head, and she excuses herself. Two lamps offer the only light, making the room feel cozy. “The car should be here soon. I’ll call and see where they are,” he says.

“No,” I blurt, stopping him. “Another minute, please.” I am suddenly nervous again. The prime minister’s wedding is a red-carpet event. Outside will be the press. Inside will be my family and the upper echelon of Japanese society. I’ll be carefully cataloged. I study the hem of my dress. Is it too long? Will I trip on it? It’s all too real.

I take a deep breath, try to detach. I think about Mount Shasta, hoping it will anchor me. But then I remember what I’m missing this weekend. “It’s senior prom tomorrow night.” A few days ago, the girls sent me pics of trying on dresses. It’s an eighties theme.

“Is it?”

I’m surprised he’s not forcing us out the door. I’m in no hurry. Neither is he, apparently.

I’m jittery, unable to filter my thoughts. “You know what I’m going to miss about not going?” Aside from the warm punch, bad lighting, and that awkward moment where you run into your ex-boyfriend and the girl he cheated on you with? “I’m going to miss the dancing. Will you dance with me?” I’m a bit sheepish. But feeling brave, kind of, and beautiful, at least.