He’s not
as perfect as he seems, I remind myself as I sweep through the nosy hands
of the maids attending me. I sigh softly as one sits me down to brush my
hair. After all, he’s never noticed you, has he? And you certainly are,
despite your common roots, the most beautiful maiden in the court, and
certainly the most gifted and powerful.
I hush away the irritating voice
in the back of my mind, hissing to me of those roots, and prissily busy
myself picking a piece of string off my intricate gown, letting her brush
my hair for a while, letting myself try to relax a bit. Yet thoughts of
him…
I suddenly stand, my hair mostly
brushed, the lengths of violet dancing down my back, moving to the window
that overlooks the courtyard.
From here I have always been able
to see into his meeting room, though it was a small window into the meeting
room. But he sits near that window in nearly every meeting. I know.
And as I predicted, he is there.
All I want to do is stretch out
my hand and touch him, brush his soft hair back from that pearl face.
“Do you think he could ever love
me?” I ask absently, trying to kill the wistfulness in my voice and succeeding
poorly.
“Kourin-sama, you’re the most beautiful
lady in court… how could he not fall in love with you as soon as he sees
you?” one of my maids chirps brightly.
I turn suddenly and give her a harsh
look. “He has seen me once before, when I first came here.” And nothing
had happened. I feel the tear in my heart again. Nothing had happened but
that he had destroyed my life with one small glance.
She looks rather taken aback and
I immediately feel apologetic, but there is nothing I can do now. “Well,
you were just from the country when he saw you, Kourin-sama… you have to
allow for that. If he saw you now, we all know he wouldn’t be able to help
himself,” says another rather quickly. I had never punished my maids, but
others had, and occasionally rather harshly. Life was hard on princesses
too.
I sigh softly to myself, hating
myself suddenly. Who was I to play games like this? Who was I to dare to
love? My dark eyes narrow, knowing how beautiful I am, how graceful, how
perfectly suited to be the empress I am…
How perfectly suited…
I am not sure whether I hate myself
or not. It seems odd to me that I don’t know, but at the same time it is
true. But then I have to ask myself which me I hate.
“The most beautiful lady in court…”
I muse to myself quietly.
One of my maids quickly nods, but
remains silent. I think I terrify them with my restrictions. No bathing
me, no dressing me… so unlike the other princesses.
But then, I was not like any of
them. I was the most beautiful.
Frustration eats away at me daily.
I know that even if the emperor falls in love with me that I am still barren.
But… if he could love me…
I want to have his child. I want
to see him smile at me with love and to have him know that I could be useful
to him. I want to cradle him in my arms at night when we had finished that
nightly ritual and know that he loved me, or at the very least pretend
that he did.
I want him more than anything in
the entire world, more than I have ever wanted anything, except for one
thing, one small child… But that is in the past and he is my future. I
will see to it.
He must love me. He must. Or my
life will have been in vain, both of our lives. And I cannot allow that
to be.
I move out of my room a step, my
long robes trailing on the ground. My maids scold at me, but I ignore them.
He has come out of his meeting and is in the courtyard with many soldiers
assembled. I can see him well. I watch silently for a few moments. “That’s
Suzaku no Miko that everyone is talking about?”
One of them that had followed me
out, pestering me about getting in trouble, which I know I never will,
answers me warily. “Yes…”
“Though she’s not a princess, she’s
close to the emperor,” I say, my voice cold, bitterness trace in it. “How
about that man next to her?”
“He's the man who protects her,
Suzaku shichisei Tamahome,” replies the same maid, seeming eager to feed
my quest for knowledge. I give her a wan smile, my eyes teaching me the
relationships between these three people.
“Tamahome…” I repeat slowly, the
name feeding me ideas. I move toward the courtyard, determined to win the
heart of the man I love, no matter what the cost.
