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Lady of the Imperial City
312Overview
Despite his unrefined manners, Lord Yukan begins to touch her heart. Lady Kirei is ever mindful that he's not for her, especially when her uncle schemes to make her a consort to a prince. Will her family's honor relegate her to the shadow-life of a consort, or can love find a way?
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781512022421 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | CreateSpace Publishing |
| Publication date: | 05/25/2015 |
| Pages: | 312 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.65(d) |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
Lady of the Imperial City
By Laura Kitchell, Katherine Alexander
Laura Kitchell
Copyright © 2015 Laura KitchellAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5120-2242-1
CHAPTER 1
Kyo, Japan March 31, 1001
"I don't want a house full of women." Yukan drained his cup of sake, smoothing an appreciative finger along his friend's porcelain. He'd traded some of the finest dishes throughout the eastern world and recognized that Lord Yoki had acquired the best. "As it is, I'm not used to this aristocratic life you good people live. What makes you think I want to infect my home with the arguing and cackling of women?"
"You only think that because you've never experienced the pleasure of having lovely ladies at your beck and call," said Lord Yoki from across a low, beautifully wrought black pine table. His effeminate features thoughtful and still smooth despite his thirty-one years, he gestured toward his servant who stood at the far side of the vast common area of his mansion's main building. "Ladies ready and willing. Eager to please. Working hard to gain your favor above the others."
It only showed how little this dandy of a gentleman knew. Yukan naïve? Ha! Annoyance nudging him, he returned, "You're naïve. You've been doing business with me for years. Both of you. Can you imagine me with a bevy of women? I can barely manage one at a time." He shuddered, not having to fake his horror.
Shizuka, the too-thin minister of trade in his staid robe of office and his face bearing his thirty years far less gracefully than Yoki's, snuffled his mirth. He took the sake bottle and refilled Yukan's cup. "Don't blame the ideal for the fact that you've never wished to add to your household. All those women you've bedded, and you're trying to tell me you never wanted to make a single one a permanent part of your life?"
"Not one." Yukan made a derisory snort then thrust his hands from inside his sleeves and pressed warm palms to his stiff, ice-cold cheeks. A servant stoked a brazier, but the heat it emitted didn't begin to warm the room's massive area. "You've both done well. Minister, you've taken a wife who represents what a wife should be. I've no interest whatsoever in meeting any of your consorts. And you, Yoki, don't have a single permanent lover in your house, so you can't criticize. Believe me, though. I wouldn't want to trade places with either of you. You're suited to this life. Even though we share an age, I'm not interested in making any woman a part of my household."
"So you've not found a wife because of your own skittishness then?" Yoki sipped his rice wine and ran a hand down the glittering peacock blue damask of his rich array.
"Skittishness? You compare me with a lamb or doe?" Yukan sniffed with disdain then laughed at the idea. "I haven't married partly in dread and partly in kindness. Dread of marrying the wrong woman and having to live with a harridan, or worse, a mindless, uneducated dolt. Kindness in sparing a woman, or women as you'd have me take, the unfortunate fate of having to live with my unrefined, manly ways."
"As an import shipper, you've traveled the world. You can't claim ignorance of women. I suspect your knowledge is in pleasuring, however. A lady of this fine city can enhance your life. Bring beauty and culture into your home."
Shizuka plunked his empty cup upon the table. "I imagine we wouldn't even be having this conversation if you'd gotten your meeting with the emperor, but I'm glad we're talking. Will you spend the rest of your days wasting away with drink and common one-night rendezvous, never begetting an heir or achieving enlightenment through love? I won't have it. You're a son of the finest of our families. A Minamoto."
"You say this to me but not Lord Yoki? You describe his life better than mine." The sake began to cloud his thinking, and Yukan gave his head a vigorous shake. "I didn't come to Kyo to find a wife or consort, and I certainly didn't come to argue. I need to meet with Emperor Ichijo. Despite our family name, now that my brother, Fudono, has taken over our family shipping business, I have to ensure he has rights to the trade agreement my father set in place with the former emperor."
Shizuka shook his head. "Even so, I'm determined to help you see the error of your ways. Now that you've retired from trade, you're free to stay. You may not have our friend's ideal roundness of face, and you'd do well to grow a bit of hair on that bare, brown chin of yours, but I think there are ladies in our fair city who would find you attractive."
Yoki nodded then slapped the table and barked a drunken laugh. "You're ugly. It's true, but I've seen worse. Listen, the emperor's schedule is relentless. It could be three months before I can arrange a time for you to meet. There's time to make you appealing."
"Three months?" asked Yukan in dismay. "What am I to do for three months in this city?"
"Ichijo knows you're in Kyo. I told him this morning while I went over his day's agenda. He invites you to stay at the palace. I'll sponsor you in society. He's found you a tutor to teach you the way of this city's good people, and we'll see if you don't come to embrace our lifestyle."
"Three months of you and some tutor preaching to me the benefits of aristocratic morality and ideals of domesticity?" Yukan rolled his eyes. "My aunt has already tried. You waste your time."
His friends shared a glance. He'd known them for ten years, before any of them had achieved anywhere the greatness they now enjoyed. Yukan's father had brought him to Kyo right before he took over the family trading business and introduced him to Ichijo's father, the previous emperor. Shizuka had just been appointed as an apprentice to the ministry of trade and complained often about the humiliation of his Seventh Rank robes of office. Now he ran the ministry and had no shame in his apparel. In the trade district those many years ago, he'd met Lord Yoki who had recently accepted a promotion that earned him a mansion, and he shopped for items to fill this home where they sat tonight. Now Yoki served the emperor directly as Supreme Minister of Personal Affairs.
Every time he had brought wares to the city through the years, they had met to dine and drink. He knew them well, and he understood that look. They were about to counsel him. If he weren't so set on paving the way for his brother to trade with ease in Kyo, as their father had done for him, he'd return to his home province.
"Let's get serious," said Yoki, filling the minister's cup. "What do you think you're doing?"
Shizuka leaned against a wide, elaborately carved ceiling support column and arched anemic eyebrows. "Yes. Tell us, what do you think you're doing?"
"What do you mean?" Yukan blinked. Had he consumed too much sake? He could usually read these two like a scroll.
"You're set on retiring, and I understand. I really do. But this is an uncertain world we live in. Fudono is sailing the seas."
"So? He's been doing that for years with me."
Shizuka leaned forward, causing his tall, skinny black hat to tip forward and pull at his shiny, ebony topknot. "And the gods have granted you safety and good fortune. Don't be so complacent that you think it may not change. What happens if you lose your brother? If you have no heirs, who will continue? Fudono is eight years younger, only twenty-three and in no mind or position to start a family. It's on you."
Interesting. He hadn't expected them to come at him from the perspective of family. It showed how well they knew him, too. Family meant everything to him.
Yoki nodded. "You're acting careless. Heedless. Rash."
"Rash!" Yukan threw back his head and laughed. "And I thought I'd had too much wine. My not taking a wife is acting rash? That's ridiculous."
The minister's lips formed a moue then slowly widened into a sly smile. "You're ready."
"For what?"
Shizuka leaned nearer still, his stiff robe puffing above the edge of the table. "Oh, yes. I see it now. When you see her, you'll know."
"What are you talking about?" Yukan didn't even try to hide his irritation.
"You protest the same way I did right before I was introduced to Izumi. The moment I met her, I knew she'd be my wife."
"Then how come I haven't met my wife yet?" asked Yoki, his voice a bit whiny. "I protest all the time."
The minister sat back and grinned.
"Look," said Yukan, crossing his arms. "My prospects are different from yours. You're both happy, and that works for you."
"I'm not happy," cut in Yoki, a slight pout pulling the edges of his small mouth downward.
Yukan sent him a dismissive glance. "As for me, I don't want a proper and fine life in Kyo." He signaled to the servant to bring another bottle. "And I think I've been very generous in my willingness to listen to the two of you prattle on about the supposed virtues of surrounding oneself with women galore —"
"Three months," cut in Shizuka. "Honestly, what have you got to lose?"
That gave him pause. He had nothing waiting for him on his country estate but servants and workers who functioned quite well under the guidance of his manager. Without acquisition trips and sales contracts, what did he have to do? Time was the one thing of which he had plenty.
He studied his friends. They'd always been good for a diversion. Their attempts to win him to their way of thinking could only prove entertaining in the extreme.
"Fine. Three months. But don't hope too hard. I'm me, after all."
Shizuka beamed, making his too-wide mouth appear garish, and brought his hands together in a single clap of delight. "Excellent. We'll start tonight."
* * *
"It'll be fun. Come with me tonight," Amai said, a hopeful smile upon her delicate face while she stepped as light as a cherry blossom petal floating on a garden pond. She emerged from the hallway that led to individual bedchambers and came into the common area of the wing her father had built onto his mansion especially for her. "Everyone will be disappointed if you don't."
Kirei adored her sweet cousin's youthful enthusiasm. Excitement colored the young woman's round face a becoming pink. She almost envied her. Almost.
Amai had beauty and taste ladies would envy if they didn't like her so well. Her thick, glossy hair fell heavy and straight to pool upon the outermost layer of her many silk robes in shades of maroon, pink, and white. The color combination, a tribute to winter with a nod toward the coming change in season, complimented her cousin's delicate youth and ideal face. Her narrow eyes gleamed with anticipation.
Kirei had also enjoyed this kind of excitement her first year in high society. Now, she had spent too much time with Kyo's jaded and fickle aristocrats to eagerly seek their company. Well, with the exception of a few. Fingering the soft silk of her innermost layer of robes, a pale green chemise that spilled at sleeves and hem, she allowed a brief smile. "I can't. It takes weeks to prepare for an incense contest. I haven't blended anything new or chosen an elaborate bowl or burner."
"You don't need to and you know it." Amai's soft brown eyes widened a fraction. "You always create new scents."
Sometimes having a person know her so well was not a good thing.
"You're the best smelling lady in the city. Besides, you use the very best containers and burners. Nothing but the finest for you."
Kirei plucked at the heavy flower-patterned burgundy silk of her outermost layer, her dress garment, and changed tactics. "But I have to wash my hair tonight. My usual washing night won't be auspicious. I might get sick."
"Nonsense. We both wash our hair the day after tomorrow. It's a most auspicious day for it. Nobody follows the celestial calendar as closely as I." Amai laughed and rolled her eyes. "As if I have a choice. With my brother promoted at the Yin-Yang Bureau, is it any wonder? It's all he talks about these days."
Too true, unfortunately. "Can I give you any reason not to go to this party that you'll accept?"
"No." The young woman stood in a single, fluid motion. Her maroon and pink silk layers swayed in glimmering loveliness as her floor-length hair spooled off of her cushion. Like a dancer, she threw her arms wide and spun. The polished dark wood floor offered no resistance to her white socks. She hugged her arms across the front of her multi-layered uchigi robes. "Yours will be the most beguiling fragrance, and you'll surely win the contest. I must go choose what to wear."
"Indeed," Kirei said under her breath as Amai shuffled away. The gods forbid she should appear with any less than twelve colors showing at her neckline. In frustration, she gently kicked her six-foot portable kicho, its two opaque curtains fluttering.
She hated the screen of state and the restrictive life it represented. In the country, she'd been free to come and go as she pleased. She could wear far fewer layers of silk and didn't have to hide from every man around. Here in the imperial city, if she didn't demure behind a fan, she was tied to the kicho.
She fell onto her back, her head landing on a yellow silk pillow, and gazed out at delicate pink cherry blossoms shining in a rare beam of afternoon sunlight cheating its way through a gray sky. Morning rain had left the ground wet, and a cool breeze blowing in had a rich, loamy quality.
The recent rain caused aches where broken bones had healed. The more time that passed since her injuries, the more she ached when rain and snow fell. It offered an inescapable reminder of her suffering. An inescapable reminder of her guilt. Of the pain in her heart. Warui. She would never forget his name and what he had done to her and her brother.
She had been glad when her father sent her to Kyo because she wanted to leave the horrors of Shinano Province behind. In recent weeks, however, her uncle's behavior had indicated he moved to make a match for her.
She had never intended to find a gentleman. Perhaps her father had. Certainly her uncle did. She only wanted peace, though.
Perhaps if she had a chance to marry, to meet a gentleman she could respect and love, she might not resist. Were she to love, she wouldn't easily share him with a wife and multiple concubines.
She gave her head a vigorous shake and covered her eyes with a hand. This line of thinking could only lead to deeper unhappiness. A true lady of Kyo wasn't to harbor such selfish ideas. Not that she'd ever be considered a true lady of the imperial city. Her country upbringing made her unsuitable for marriage. She could only hope to become a consort. Shivering with distaste, she removed her hand and stared up into the pale blossoms of the cherry tree.
City life had its benefits. Art. Religious choice. Stimulating conversation. She had even managed to make associations with people she genuinely called friends. Country life would always be her preference, however. Unfortunately, her home province held too many painful memories to return. She'd nearly lost her sanity to grief before her father sent her to his brother's house. If only she had a relative in another province. Lately, her lack of freedom in this city suffocated her.
She was trapped. With her uncle's intentions growing clearer, she now stood to become a pawn, as well.
"Have you no correspondence to write?" came a deep, guttural voice from the main house.
"Ojisan." Kirei sat up like a shot. She smoothed a hand over her ruffled hair and peeked through her screen of state's loose strips of curtain. "Um, no. I wrote my notes and responses this morning. No correspondence has come this afternoon."
"That's disappointing. You need to get out more." Her uncle stepped into the doorframe separating her and Amai's wing of rooms from the main part of his Fourth Ward mansion. "I might've suggested you spend your idle time in writing poetry or perfecting your drawing, but I understand you've been invited to Prince Hansamu's perfume party tonight."
His balding pate gleamed in white light filtering through rice paper. His hard eyes showed no kindness as he assessed what he could see of her past her kicho. To appease his curiosity, she extended her arm so he could admire the arrangement of colors showing at the end of her sleeve. His gaze fell upon her silks and he appeared to relax a fraction, so she rested her hand on her knee to keep her layers in his view. At his waist, he fingered a jeweled sword that he wore for show.
She fought a smirk at the thought of him trying to wield such a weapon in earnest. With his narrow shoulders and thin arms, she doubted he could lift the blade over his head. He was more likely to send robbers into peals of laughter rather than running for their lives.
Her voice tight from restrained humor, she said, "Yes, Ojisan. Amai has the party's particulars."
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Lady of the Imperial City by Laura Kitchell, Katherine Alexander. Copyright © 2015 Laura Kitchell. Excerpted by permission of Laura Kitchell.
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