“And you are enjoying the attentions of Lord Hiro, among others.” Yukiko gulped a mouthful of tea and said nothing.
“He is a handsome man. Loyal to a fault.”
“My Lady, forgive me. I did not come here to talk about Lord Hiro.” “Does talking of your lover embarrass you?”
“Wha—” Yukiko nearly choked on her tea, cast an accusing stare at Michi.
“He’s not . . . I would never . . .” Aisha laughed, bright and musical, perfect teeth and ruby lips. Yukiko felt a blush rise in her cheeks. She stared hard at her lap, fingers twitching on embroidered silk.
“You are too easy, Yukiko-chan. You wear your heart on your sleeve. Guard it more carefully, lest others see it and pluck it out. People in this palace have a fondness for taking away what others desire most.”
“I don’t love Lord Hiro.” “Well, perhaps you should.” Aisha raised an eyebrow. “Treasure your joys while you may. Gods know there are few enough in this world.”
“Michi said you had word of my friends?” Yukiko lunged away from the subject. “Akihito and Kasumi?”
Aisha stared for a long moment, still smiling, then finally nodded.
“Akihito-san is safe. With friends of mine, in a house in Docktown.”
“Thank Amaterasu,” Yukiko sighed. “And Kasumi?”
“She is here.”
“In Kigen?”
“In the palace. I had her smuggled in this morning. She is waiting to speak to you.”
Yukiko was incredulous.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just did, Yukiko-chan.”
Yukiko fought down the anger, tried to hide it behind the mask as Aisha had bid her. Just when she thought she had some understanding of who and what Aisha was, the woman showed her how little she truly understood. Yoritomo’s sister was an impossible enigma, a puzzle box with missing pieces. No matter what Michi said, Yukiko realized she had no idea what was going on behind those smooth puff-adder eyes, what secrets twisted in the dark beneath the plastic death-pale facade. All she knew about Aisha was what she’d been sold. Who was to say she really was Kaori’s friend? Did she actually want to see the country freed from the yoke of the Guild and the Shōgunate, or was she just making a play for the throne herself? Despite Michi’s assurances, all her talk of resis tance, how much could Yukiko really afford to trust this woman?
How easy would it be for Aisha just to cut her loose if things went badly? And even if all went to plan, how easy would it be for her to sell Yukiko as her scapegoat after the fact?
She kept the trepidation from her voice, the questions from her eyes.
“May I see her, please?”
Aisha clapped her hands, and a rice-paper panel in the northern wall slid aside. Kasumi stood on the other side in a servant’s kimono, knotted muscle, nervous eyes. But when she saw Yukiko, her face lit up with joy. She dashed into the room and they were in each other’s arms, hugging fiercely, afraid to let go. Yukiko closed her eyes, felt the tears pour down her cheeks despite herself.
“I thought you were dead,” Kasumi breathed into her hair. “Gods, I thought we had lost you.”
They laughed and held each other tight, swaying with the shamisen song until the tears stopped. Eventually, they knelt together before the table, and Lady Aisha wordlessly offered Kasumi a cup of tea. The older woman accepted, drinking the steaming brew with shaking hands and tight, pale lips. She asked Yukiko to tell her all that had happened since the tempest on the Thunder Child. Aisha’s eyes glittered in the flickering amber light as Yukiko spoke, beginning with the crash, ending with the arena and Masaru’s filthy cell in the Shōgun’s dungeons.
“So he is imprisoned,” Kasumi said. “That is a small mercy at least.”
“No mercy for Captain Yamagata, though,” Yukiko murmured.
“I did not want to leave Masaru, Yukiko.” Kasumi’s eyes flashed. “I told him I wouldn’t. That if he were going to die, I would die with him. Akihito refused too, threatened to knock Masaru out if he ordered us away. So three days before we arrived in Kigen, he poisoned us with blacksleep. When we woke the next morning, he and Yamagata were gone. The captain, to beg for the lives of his crew. And Masaru, to beg for ours.”
“Akihito threatened to knock him out?” Yukiko couldn’t help but smile.
“Akihito loves Masaru.” Kasumi reached out to touch Yukiko’s hand. “I love him too. Most dearly.”
Yukiko stared at Kasumi for a long, silent moment. This was the woman who had betrayed her mother, who had shared her father’s bed. And though she’d truly blamed Masaru for the infidelity, Yukiko had long ago written Kasumi off as a predator, venomous and sly. Treated with thin civility maybe, but never respect. Never love.