Falling Through Glass Page 15

  Soon the enormity of this evening finally hit her. Certain behavior and etiquette would be expected, and she hadn’t a clue as to the intricacies of what that might be. Meticulous details and ceremonies seemed bred in the Japanese blood, and Emmi suddenly felt doomed.

  Utterly doomed.

  Maybe she should have let them put that black gunk on her teeth after all…

  Then again, if blackened teeth were that big a deal, Takehito would have said something before they left. Wouldn’t he?

  * * * *

  They didn’t get out as soon as they entered the main gate but were carried farther, through a half-dozen different gates and past a dozen groups of buildings before they finally stopped. She felt guilty at the sight of those palanquin bearers, who looked utterly exhausted, and she hoped they were now trotting off to rest and get some food or something.

  The bowing and scraping of the palace guys who soon greeted them bothered Emmi, and she wondered how her ancestors could deal with it as if it was so normal. Of course, to them it was normal. They had been near royalty and would be accustomed to the ado. Emmi would have sighed or groaned if she could breathe better.

  Instead she listened and tried to make out what was being said. Thankfully Takehito spoke to her a bit more slowly when he pointed to yet another set of buildings with an entrance gate not far from where she stood.

  “While I have the audience with the emperor, you and Sadanori will wait here inside the prince’s residence. There will no doubt be food and entertainments offered.”

  Emmi smiled and nodded, not wanting to open her mouth because something stupid was certain to come out. As Emmi followed the fawning courtiers and her “cousin” into the main building, she was very thankful for the whole “women should be seen and not heard” concept, which would have driven her crazy in her own time.

  While she tried not to be a typical gawking tourist, it was difficult. The place was unreal. The painted scenes on the walls and doors and the gold-trimmed lacquer of the cabinets and tables took her breath away. They passed rooms with new tatami mats that smelled of fresh, sun-drenched grass. The scent mingled with the scent of flowers drifting through the doors that opened into the garden areas. As far as palaces went, this was a nice one.

  After dinner, courtly women entertained with the same dance that Emmi had watched actresses practicing for the movie. The few times that Emmi was spoken to, she managed to respond with a few quiet yeses, polite nods and close-lipped smiles. She decided that the minute they got out of there, she’d give Sadanori a big, tight hug to thank him for frequently turning the conversation away from her.

  Soon, however, her familial savior was snatched away by one of those bowing and scraping crowd who said that Takehito requested his presence immediately. His presence, not hers.

  She wasn’t sure how long it was after Sadanori left that the courtiers surrounding her decided to move on to the evening’s next entertainment, but they bowed and scraped and invited her along.

  Emmi wasn’t quite sure how she did it, but she managed to give them the slip. She lagged at the back of the group as they wound through the corridors and rooms of the large princely residence, then ducked through a partially opened door. Sliding it shut as softly as possible, Emmi breathed a small sigh of relief.

  Relief that was blown away the instant Emmi realized she might just be left behind when her ancestors headed home. They wouldn’t do that, would they? No, they’d notice she was gone and look for her. Then she could play dumb or say she’d suddenly felt ill and needed to find a quiet room to rest.

  “Hello.”

  Emmi jumped at the sound of the quiet child’s voice behind her. Where the heck did that kid come from? There was only one door here, and she was facing it.

  “Hello.”

  “Are you new here?”

  “Yes. I came with my—uncle.”

  He nodded, and Emmi couldn’t get over the feeling that he seemed so sad, almost as if he were as lost in this time and place as she was.

  “Do you know Kae-san? Have you seen him? I thought he might play a game with me.”

  Kae-san? Did he say Kae-san, as in Kaemon?

  “I know someone named Kaemon, but I haven’t seen him here—” Emmi turned toward the closed door as the sounds of muffled voices and feet quickly padding along the corridor became louder. She turned around to look at the boy, but he’d gone as mysteriously as he’d appeared.

  Emmi turned back to the door when it opened, and one of those courtiers on the other side recognized her. Emmi looked down and muttered, “I lost my way. Forgive me.”

  She was escorted to the room where Takehito and his son were. They didn’t look too upset that Emmi had disappeared. In fact, Takehito looked rather happy. No doubt he and the emperor had tossed back a few cups of good sake.

  * * * *

  The minute they returned to Katsura Villa, Emmi hurried to her room to get out of the silky salami costume and wash the poisonous white gunk off her face. She decided not to bother messing with her hair just then, as it had a bunch of thick, greasy gunk in it to keep it all in place. If the other women of this time could sleep with it in their hair all the time, she might be able to stand one night.

  By the time Emmi had finished washing and changing, it was dark. She went to the room that led out to the moon-viewing platform and looked up at the clear night sky. She was wondering if she’d ever see a twenty-first-century sky again when Takehito came in behind her.

  “I have a gift for you, Em-chan.”

  “A gift? For me? But why?” Emmi asked, taking the large, silk-wrapped bundle. She set the bundle on her lap. “You don’t have to do this. I didn’t do anything to deserve a gift from you.”

  He sat opposite her and smiled indulgently. Obviously she was being clueless, from the look on his face. She waited for him to feed her the much-needed clue.

  “It is a gift from Nakagawa no miya-sama.”

  “Nakagawa… You mean from Kae?”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh. Oh.” Emmi was almost afraid to open it, but she did. It was a length of deep blue silk decorated with gleaming silver embroidery, depicting cranes and chrysanthemums—the prettiest she’d ever seen. “This is beautiful.” She looked up, totally confused. “Why did Kae send me this?”

  “To formalize the marriage contract Sadanori made for you tonight. I have already sent a gift in return.”

  The words took a while to sink in, as if the lead makeup and the lack of oxygen from the fancy kimono had stolen her faculties.

  “Wait. Your son, who is younger than I am, made a marriage contract tonight? For me? With Kae?”

  Takehito stood. “Not with him directly, of course, but with his father’s representative. You will be married as soon as the proper arrangements can be made.”

  He left just as that additional nugget sank into her numbed brain.

  But as soon as her brain processed it all, Emmi tore out of the room to confront Takehito and tell him that whatever insane agreements his son made were off.

  At least, that was the plan.

  When she caught up to him, she began babbling in a mixture of Japanese and English. “I can’t do this! Your son had no right! I can’t get married! I don’t belong here! I have college to go to!”

  He gave her a “don’t screw with me on this” look in reply, and when he spoke Takehito’s voice, though low and calm, carried the same silencing power as his expression.

  “You should be honored that a man such as Prince Asahiko has seen fit to agree to this union for his son. I will not allow you to disgrace us by trying to refuse. It has been decided. You have no say in the matter.”

  Emmi opened her mouth and tried to plead her case but ended up standing there like a dumbfounded idiot for a long time. When Takehito turned his back and walked away, she trudged back out to the moon-viewing platform and plopped down. Looking up at the sky, she noticed that the moon looked a lot like the smirking grin of the Cheshire Cat in Alice in
Wonderland.

  “Go ahead and laugh. You don’t have to get married,” she muttered to no one in particular.

  But you’re marrying Kaemon, remember? some traitorous part of her said.

  Okay, so maybe it wouldn’t be a total disaster.

  Of all the things that could happen to her here, if marriage to a hot samurai was the worst she faced, then she’d made out all right, all things considered.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  As the days passed, Emmi thought often of her parents, especially her mother, who ‘had a thing’ for weddings. When she and some of her friends would get together at the house, someone always brought up the latest big celebrity or society wedding. Growing up with so much wedding talk, so much dissection of the high and low points, Emmi realized that she’d developed certain expectations about her own wedding—all of which were shot to hell, considering her current situation.

  The biggest thing she’d never have dreamed in a million years was having to go to the Imperial Palace every day, bright and early, to be “Groomed in the Ways of the Court.” It might have been fun—or at least interesting—if she actually got to see Kae during some of that time. Even when she did see him, it was only glimpses of him disappearing around corners or walking with his father.

  Would it have killed him to seek her out and say hello just once?

  With no way to confirm her suspicions, Emmi decided he spent his days off doing who knew what, who knew where, and most likely with that Aneko wench. All the while, she was stuck with a bunch of giggly women with black gunk on their teeth, which caused her to keep her mouth shut as tightly as possible at all times for fear they’d try to indoctrinate her into the Bizarre Dental Hygiene Society.

  Emmi didn’t try to keep her mouth shut around her “teacher,” one Kojima Toshimasa. She was having trouble with some of the language, since what they spoke at court was even further away from the old-version Japanese she’d been hearing since she’d landed here. Still, the fact that she only understood eighty percent of what Kojima-san said really wasn’t so bad, because he had the sexiest voice she’d ever heard.

  She never would have admitted that to her family or Jake, though, because this guy was almost old enough to be her father, but with that voice and those eyes of his… If he’d been younger, he would have been giving Kaemon a run in the popularity polls. As it was, he seemed to be a hit with the bad-dental-hygiene ladies. They became even gigglier from the time he appeared until he dispatched them to do whatever it was he sent them off to do.

  Then he commenced with Emmi’s endless lessons. The lessons consisted mainly of where she could go within the compound, what she could do and when she could do it. There were all sorts of schedules for ceremonies, entertainment and meals, and Emmi wondered if that was part of the reason Kae was always off somewhere. That was the happier alternative for her fiancé’s absence, much better than thinking he was with that Aneko.

  The current reality was that Emmi was still an outsider who couldn’t get involved with any of the ceremonial or social activities, at least in this phase of her Almost Princessness. Nevertheless, Kojima-san was a pleasant diversion. He’d take Emmi to walk with him as he lectured, and sometimes he’d cancel class and let her spend time alone in the gardens, which sort reminded her of home. Sort of.

  When Emmi wasn’t being lectured to or sitting around watching moss grow on pond rocks—or wondering what Kae was up to and with whom—she was being fussed over by seamstresses and used as a living mannequin for bolts of silk. It was beautiful silk, and Emmi had pangs of guilt that they might be billing Takehito for all this.

  One day while Kojima-san and Emmi were out walking he said, “The time is right.”

  “The time is right?”

  Kojima-san smiled. He also had a drop-dead gorgeous smile, the best she’d ever seen, even sexier than Kae’s.

  “The yin-yang diviners have been consulted and have decided that all signs are favorable for the wedding to take place.”

  He said more that Emmi couldn’t quite make out, mostly because her head was spinning with the whole diviners, good signs and omen talk. He sounded like one of those freaky friends her mom knew from Venice Beach. They were old college friends, and Emmi never could figure out how her socially conscious mother hooked up with them at all. Still, she was sure they were the ones who’d brought up that oni nonsense in the first place.

  “I am almost sorry the time has come, Emiko.”

  All Emmi’s thoughts skidded to a halt. “What?”

  Kojima-san laughed that low, sexy laugh of his and looked at her with those gleaming, dark eyes that made her feel all fluttery inside. “I must confess that I envy Kae-san, and I fear he has no idea of the Perfect…fragile…blossom…he has acquired…”

  “Um…”

  When he said ‘Perfect…Fragile…Blossom’, he closed the fan he’d been holding and slid it down the side of her face. The lacquered wood felt so cool, and her face suddenly felt so hot.

  “He is a most fortunate boy,” Kojima-san continued in that sexy tone of his.

  Was he stepping closer? And when had they walked into this secluded, wooded part of the palace complex? Emmi didn’t know and really didn’t care just then.

  “A Most. Fortunate. Man,” Kojima repeated. He touched Emmi with the fan again, this time gliding it down the side of her neck, along her shoulder, then down her upper arm.

  She shivered.

  He smiled.

  He was so close now—close enough to kiss—and Emmi did want to kiss him. Kae, her mind reminded her, she wanted to kiss Kae. She took a deep breath and held it, for a long time.

  Kojima-san backed off a pace or two, though his eyes never left hers.

  “Kae-san is a fine young man, of course, but it’s rather a shame you aren’t being married to a more experienced, worldly man.”

  He gestured for Emmi to follow him back to the palace proper, and she trailed along behind him, not unlike an obedient puppy.

  Was he coming on to her? He was! Was he taking her inside to try to seduce her? She wasn’t falling for that, but what if he tried anyway? Could she fight him off? Should she make a run for it now? Where would she go? Should she hide? Where could she hide? There were a lot of buildings, but she hadn’t been in them.

  Emmi’s thoughts were still flowing like a raging river when Kojima left her at the entrance to the building where the blackened-teeth ladies hung out. He then went on his way without so much as a word.

  Damn, that was close.

  Where was that damned alleged fiancé of hers when she needed him?

  * * * *

  During those weeks, when she had time alone at the palace, Emmi often saw that kid who’d appeared and disappeared the first time she’d been there with Takehito and Sadanori. The little rat refused to tell her his name, though. All he said was, “Everyone here knows.”

  Emmi decided that this was akin to one of those Hollywood things where if you were somebody you’d be on the inside track with such info, and since she was an outsider she didn’t matter.

  She assumed he was some courtier’s son who was also left alone in between lessons as she was. Most of the time he was sort of there one minute, gone the next, but one day after Kojima-san’s come-on, the mystery boy popped out of nowhere again. He and Emmi started talking.

  She was sitting near the man-made lake, trying to practice her calligraphy and poetry-writing skills—apparently things that were required of a ‘court lady’—when the mystery kid appeared behind her. He read over her shoulder, pointing out her messy handwriting and bad poetry.

  Emmi very much wanted to tell him that writing with a brush and an ink stone was not the gel pen she was used to, but she couldn’t.

  “I’m not experienced in writing waka. I have to keep stopping to count the syllables to make sure I have thirty-one exactly.”

  “But it is very easy.”

  “Not for me.”

  “It is for me,” he said with a typical
“pain in the butt” kid grin.

  “Then maybe I should get you to write mine for me, so I get praise from Kojima-san, instead of criticism.”

  “No.”

  It was so simple, yet said with a tone so high and mighty, so authoritative, that Emmi had to laugh.

  “You will marry Kaemon?”

  “I’m supposed to.”

  He nodded. “Do you have many friends? I have only one.”

  The way he said “only one” was so matter-of-fact, so sad, that it made Emmi think of how alone she felt here sometimes.

  “I suppose Kae and I will live here. I can be your friend too.”

  Emmi tried not to listen to the part of her mind that kept chanting—Marrying Kae means you have that whole Wedding Night thing to look forward to. You have to do like in those old movies and do your ‘Wifely Duty’. Every night.

  No. She was not going to go there. Well, she wasn’t going to think about it right now, anyway.

  “I would like you for a friend,” the boy said.

  Thankfully, his voice silenced the partying slut in the back of Emmi’s mind.

  “Would you play games with me? Do you play Go?”

  Emmi smiled. That ancient checkers-like game was one thing she definitely could do. “Yes, and I will beat you.”

  “You are not allowed.”

  “Watch me—”

  Emmi was interrupted by the sound of Kojima-san’s voice in the distance calling her name. She stood to see where he was coming from. When she turned back to tell her smart-alecky new friend she had to postpone the game, he was already gone. Maybe the kid really was the son of a super-secret ninja.

  She was straightening her scrolls and writing things when Kojima-san came up beside her. He bent down to help her gather up her calligraphy brushes and put them in their lacquered box. As he helped, his hand brushed across hers, and she jumped. Oh God, not the flirting again.