As the story continued—as the rapt masses became absorbed in the tale of treachery unfolding before them—Mariko slid farther into the darkness along the edges of the outdoor pavilion. She eased to standing, then lingered on the fringes, carefully fading into the deepest shadow beside the walls of screened shoji. As she moved, she slid the tinkling ornaments from her hair. Pulled a thin bundle of dark silk from her kimono sleeve. Then—when Takeda Shingen and Asano Naganori’s duplicity was unmasked onstage to sounds of sheer loathing—Mariko let the shouts and the jeering and the pounding of the drums conceal her departure.
Her heart hammering in a steady thrum, she wrapped her shoulders in silk the color of night. The silver flashes and thunderous roars of the performance reached their pinnacles, and Mariko shouldered past the gap between two shoji, angling for the small alley nearby.
“My lady?”
A voice rang out from her right.
Mariko stopped short, a wash of panic unfurling across her skin.
Isa.
Struggling to paste a smile onto her face, Mariko turned to meet the confused gaze of the young maidservant. Isa took in Mariko’s unmistakable attempt to conceal her appearance, however haphazardly.
The girl did not need to ask any questions.
Mariko’s shoulders sagged. Isa would tell whomever she reported to that Prince Raiden’s bride had attempted to flee into Inako without warning. The guards posted near the entrance of the theater pavilion would escort her back to Heian Castle, where she’d be forced to face her betrothed.
And explain herself to the emperor.
“Please,” Mariko said softly. She took a step, then stopped, not knowing what to say or do. If she should say anything at all.
Isa’s chest rose and fell. The puzzlement remained on her features, her forehead creased with concern. “Why?” she whispered.
Mariko shook her head. “Please, Isa-chan,” she entreated once more. “I’ll return before the play is finished. No one would need to know.”
Isa’s eyes darted to Mariko’s face. Back over her shoulder. Then toward the entrance where imperial guards awaited their return. She took another deep breath. It was as though Mariko could see Isa’s heart and mind at war with each other. Her loyalty should be to their emperor. Just as Mariko’s should be.
The same emperor who had turned a blind eye toward a plague as it ravaged Isa’s home province.
Mariko watched the maidservant make her choice.
The lines across Isa’s brow vanished. Without a word, she bowed low and went back toward the performance.
Mariko did not stop to think. She raced into the alley, pulling the silk tightly around her shoulders. In less time than it took to flutter her fingers, she was hidden beneath the canopy of a jinrikisha, being whisked into the winding roads just beyond the theater district.
Gratitude coursed through her veins. Isa had bought her this chance. And Mariko had no intention of wasting it on this play of lies and puffery. Her marriage would occur in a few short days. Acquiescing to it had granted her a single night to wander the city of Inako without a full retinue in tow.
Mariko needed to move quickly.
Without a moment’s hesitation, she told the driver of the jinrikisha where to go.
The moment Yumi saw Mariko, her reaction was to chastise the girl for coming to her okiya unannounced. The daughter of Hattori Kano must be ignorant to her brother’s recent comings and goings, and the Dragon of Kai would likely arrive at the teahouse next door at any moment.
If he saw her …
In the same breath, Yumi realized that Mariko had come alone. An impossible feat for any lady of the court. Suspicion flooding her mind, she shoved the girl into a shaded alcove, then pressed her through a set of sliding doors to a private room cloistered in the shadow of a birch tree.
“Whatever reason drove you to come to Hanami, I sincerely hope it to be a good one,” Yumi began in a hushed voice.
To her credit, Hattori Mariko did not waste time on unnecessary chatter. “Have you received word from your brother?”
Yumi pursed her lips at the younger girl. A part of her could not ignore the annoyance she felt whenever she considered Lady Mariko. After all, this was the girl her brother had allowed into the Black Clan. The girl who’d won the heart of ōkami. For the last few days, Yumi had soothed her bruised ego with the possibility that this alone was the reason Tsuneoki had allowed Mariko into the ranks of their brotherhood. For ōkami’s sake. No part of Yumi wanted to believe that Mariko deserved her brother’s admiration, much less that of the Honshō Wolf.
When Yumi was a child, she’d adored the son of Takeda Shingen. Even gone so far as to insist they would marry one day, despite his loud protestations. Age and circumstance had disavowed her of the notion. She now considered ōkami more of a brother than her own flesh and blood, but it did not stop her from wondering what this earnest-eyed waif possessed that she did not.
“I do wish you would exercise more caution, Lady Mariko,” Yumi said, even as she continued pressing the girl’s back into the wall. Restraining her. “This city thrives on gossip, and information of this sort—that Prince Raiden’s bride was seen in Hanami—would undo most young women.”
An exasperated sigh passed Mariko’s lips. “I don’t have time for caution or silly traditions. Please answer my question. Why has Tsuneoki not attempted to make contact with me? Does he have any plans to mount a rescue effort for ōkami?”
“Keep your voice down.” Yumi chastised her with a sharp glare. “I don’t know if he plans to mount a rescue yet. There have been some … developments along the eastern edges of the empire, and they’ve been a hindrance to passing and receiving information.”
“You’re speaking of the plague.” Mariko nodded, her tone hovering just above a whisper. “I do not have many details, but I do know that it has also been a source of consternation between the emperor and his elder brother.”
Unable to withhold her appreciation for the girl’s resourcefulness, Yumi tilted her head in thought. “Interesting.”
“Can you find a way to deliver ōkami out of the city, if I manage to get him to you?”
The girl was relentless, and it made Yumi’s begrudging admiration for her grow. “That might prove to be difficult,” she said drily. “It would not be an easy feat to leave the city with Takeda Shingen’s son and Prince Raiden’s betrothed in tow.”
“I will not be going with you. It will just be ōkami. But these details are unimportant right now. Do you have a way to get word to your brother and see if he can assist?”
This time, it was impossible for Yumi to hide her surprise at Hattori Mariko’s revelation. “You do not intend to go with ōkami, Lady Mariko?”
“My name is simply Mariko,” she said. “Please call me that and dispense with all these ridiculous formalities.” She bit at her lip while seeming to struggle for the best way to lend her thoughts a voice. “I would like nothing more than to leave this place behind, but I do not think it is possible, and”—Mariko sucked in a breath—“I believe I can serve the Black Clan better if I remain at Heian Castle. They will need a listening ear at court if they ever intend to prevail over the Minamoto clan, and I can easily provide that as Prince Raiden’s wife.”
Yumi nodded, impressed by her logic. Hattori Kenshin’s sister was not the same girl who’d been left to convalesce in the okiya, broken and burned after the disastrous raid on the Hattori granary. Thus far, Yumi had thought Mariko simply possessed a mind for invention. Not an eye for strategy.
“My brother will not leave you behind.” Yumi sighed. “And ōkami will never permit it.”
“It is not something for him to permit.” Mariko spoke with conviction. “It is my choice. I’m counting on you to help me with it, Yumi-san. You know it is the best course of action for me to stay at court. I will only slow their escape, therefore …” She glanced at Yumi sidelong, an unspoken request hanging in the air.
“You wish for me to lie.” It was not a question.
“I wish for you to help me by holding these details close at hand, only for a short while.”
“You wish for much.” Though Yumi wore a steely expression as she said the words, she began to relax for the first time since she’d set eyes on the girl today.