“We didn’t know Tsuruhime was pregnant. You’re stupid if you think we risked killing the shogun’s daughter on the off chance that she might be a threat someday,” Yanagisawa said.
“You’re ruthless enough,” Sano said.
Yanagisawa said with growing vexation, “For the last time, I didn’t kill Tsuruhime.”
“Neither did I.” Yoshisato’s calm demeanor hid whatever he thought of Yanagisawa’s claim of innocence. “You might as well stop trying to prove we did.” As far as the murder investigation went, he and Yanagisawa were united against Sano.
“I won’t stop trying to get justice for the shogun’s daughter. If you did it, you’ll pay.” Sano looked pointedly at Yoshisato, for whom his words carried a double meaning: If Yoshisato proved to be guilty, he could forget about an alliance with Sano.
Yoshisato nodded in curt acknowledgment. Yanagisawa noticed the exchange; he frowned slightly, puzzled, then said, “There’s a rumor that Tsuruhime isn’t the shogun’s blood daughter.”
“Oh, and if the shogun isn’t Tsuruhime’s father, then he won’t care about her pregnancy or murder,” Sano retorted. “I think you just started the rumor yourself.”
Yanagisawa shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what you think. What matters is whether the shogun believes the rumor.”
Knowing how gullible the shogun was, Sano felt his spirits sink. But he said, “Go ahead, manipulate His Excellency. In the meantime, I’ll continue my investigation.”
Displeasure showed on Yoshisato’s face. Yanagisawa said with a malevolent smile, “I gave you a chance to cooperate. You’re going to wish you’d taken it.” He added, “It would be a pity if the same thing that happened to Tsuruhime’s child happened to Lady Reiko’s.”
21
In her room, Reiko knelt before an open chest. She smiled as she lifted out a tiny pink kimono printed with white clover blossoms. Thinking about the baby and preparing for its birth was a happy respite from her troubles. She couldn’t wait to hold her newborn child. She hadn’t decided on a name for a boy, but if it was a girl, she would name it Yuki-snow.
Akiko, standing beside her, said, “What’s that?”
“This is what you wore when you were a baby.” Reiko had saved some of Akiko’s and Masahiro’s nicest baby clothes. She laid out a row of colorful garments.
“They’re pretty. Can I have them for my doll?”
“They’re for your new baby sister or brother,” Reiko said.
Akiko’s face bunched into a pout. “I said I don’t want a new baby.”
“You’ll feel differently when it comes,” Reiko said, trying to convince herself as well as Akiko. “A live baby is more fun than a doll.”
“No, it’s not.” Akiko looked ready to cry.
Distressed by her daughter’s unhappiness, Reiko said, “All right, you can have this one.” She held out the pink kimono.
Akiko slapped it out of her hand. “I don’t want it anymore.” She stomped out of the room. Reiko sighed. This was a pattern for them. Akiko got upset; Reiko tried to console her; Akiko rejected Reiko.
A maid came to the door. “There’s a visitor to see you. A Lady Someko.”
Reiko was astounded. She hadn’t expected Lady Someko to accept the invitation she’d sent this morning. Wild with curiosity, she hurried to meet the mother of the shogun’s heir.
Two of Sano’s guards stood outside the reception room where Lady Someko sat by the alcove. She wore a reddish-bronze silk kimono. Her spine was straight, her chin lifted proudly. A cinnabar comb anchored her smooth, upswept black hair. Reiko entered the room and knelt opposite her. They bowed solemnly, like rival generals facing each other across a battlefield.
While Reiko offered refreshments and Lady Someko politely refused, they engaged in mutual scrutiny. Lady Someko was very attractive, her skin smooth across her wide face, her hair untouched by gray. But her body, although sleek and firm, lacked the softness of youth. Her tilted eyes had a hard, mature glitter. Reiko saw them note her beauty, her pregnancy.
“I didn’t think you would come,” Reiko said.
Lady Someko’s lips curved in the condescending smile with which Reiko had seen other older women express their envy of her. “Life is full of surprises.”
“Why did you come?”
“One reason is that I’ve heard a lot about you, and I’m curious.”
Reiko could imagine what Lady Someko had heard. Tales of her exploits in the service of Sano’s investigations had long fed the high-society gossip mill. It was probably still churning with the story of how she’d killed a criminal outside the palace last year.
“The curiosity is mutual,” Reiko said. “Many thanks for accepting my invitation.”
Mirth briefly dimpled Lady Someko’s cheeks. “You’re not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“Someone bigger and tougher and less feminine,” Lady Someko said. “You don’t look strong enough to lift a sword.”
“You’re not what I expected, either,” Reiko said.
“What did you expect?”
“Someone weak and easily dominated.”
That was the stereotype of concubines. Reiko thought Lady Someko would react with scorn at this notion of herself, but Lady Someko looked faintly distressed, as if Reiko’s judgment had hit too close to home.
“Another reason is that we have a lot in common,” Lady Someko said. “We’re both mothers of sons.”
“Our men are on opposite sides of a feud,” Reiko said. “I suppose you could call that something else in common.”
Lady Someko smiled as if mischievously pleased to be consorting with the enemy. Reiko did feel a certain comradeship with her. The feud between Sano and Yanagisawa must be affecting Lady Someko’s life as well as Reiko’s.
“Won’t Chamberlain Yanagisawa mind your talking to me?” Reiko asked.
“Of course. But he doesn’t control everything I do.” Lady Someko gave a husky laugh. “Does your husband tell you to go out and kill people, or do you take it upon yourself?”
Reiko wasn’t about to discuss her marriage with a stranger who might tell tales to Yanagisawa. “Are there any more reasons why you came?”
For the first time Lady Someko seemed less than confident. She said in a falsely casual tone, “I heard that your husband is investigating the murder of the shogun’s daughter.”
“You mean, you want to know if Yoshisato is a suspect and whether my husband has evidence that he’s guilty?”
“If it were your son whose half sister had been murdered, wouldn’t you want to know whether someone had evidence against him?” Lady Someko retorted.
Despite her prickly manner, Reiko sympathized with her. She must be terrified that Yoshisato would be implicated in and punished for Tsuruhime’s death. She obviously didn’t think he was safe just because he’d been accepted as the shogun’s son. The shogun had never been tested to see if he would let his son get away with killing his daughter. This was an unprecedented, volatile situation.
“I’ll make a bargain with you,” Reiko said. “I’ll tell you what’s happening in the murder investigation, if you’ll answer a question for me.”
Distrust narrowed Lady Someko’s eyes.
“Who is Yoshisato’s real father? The shogun or Yanagisawa?”
Lady Someko let out a puff of laughter. She didn’t seem surprised or offended that Reiko would try to trap her into a compromising revelation. She seemed amused, as if by the antics of a clever child. “The shogun, of course. Now it’s your turn.”
“Not yet. Did you really sleep with the shogun? He prefers men.”
“He preferred me for long enough to impregnate me.”
“You lived with Yanagisawa while you were pregnant. Were you sleeping with him, too? Couldn’t Yoshisato be his?”
“I was pregnant by the shogun before Yanagisawa took me in.” Lady Someko said suddenly, “Who’s the father of the child you’re carrying?”
Startled, Reiko said, “My husband.”
“If it wasn’t him, would you tell me?” Lady Someko read Reiko’s face. She smiled meanly. “I didn’t think so. You wouldn’t want me blabbing it around and your husband finding out you’d cheated on him. He would divorce you. So why would you think I would tell you that the shogun isn’t my son’s father even if it were true?”