That makes two of you
, she thought as she watched Kae, laughing with some men who she guessed were his friends, and that babe who’d poured the ceremonial wedding sake. She was right there, pouring for all the men in the group, letting her fingers brush against theirs and batting her eyes like it was an accident.
When Takehito and Sadanori moved off to talk to other people Emmi was left alone, which reminded her of her first few weeks in high school. None of her friends had gone to the private school where her parents had enrolled her. The other freshmen had been together all through junior high. She’d been a class of one. She’d hated it then, and she hated it now that her new life as a princess by marriage was proving much the same.
Who could she strike up a conversation with, and hopefully become friends with, here?
“Such a beautiful bride you are, Emiko.”
Emmi pulled herself out of her pity party and looked over to Kojima-san. “Thank you.”
“Do not thank me for speaking the truth.” He poured her a cup of sake. “I look forward to having many more enjoyable conversations with you as we’ve had these past weeks.” He stared at her with those hypnotizing eyes while that silky-smooth deep voice of his wrapped itself around her lonely heart. “I look forward to it.”
“Me, too—” She stopped short when she was tugged from behind.
“Emiko, it is time to leave,” Kae said in a commanding, flat tone.
Of course it was time to go. It was time to go because she was finally having fun with her very own friend!
This arranged marriage thing, being the obedient wife, was going to be quite the royal pain the ass, but she was stuck. Literally stuck, she realized, in a tangle of kimono and numbed ankles from being in the kneeling seiza position for so long.
Suddenly Kojima was gone, and Kae was giving her an Evil Glare of Doom and tugging on her sleeve.
“If you help me stand, I will,” she grumbled.
With a scowl, he pulled her up and brought home the intoxicating power packed into those many sips of sake. Who’d have thought such tiny cups could contain so much alcohol? The room lurched to a crazy angle. She had to clutch Kae’s arm and let him lead her to the corridor.
Her inner slut partied in the far reaches of her brain, shouting giddily,
Woohoo! This is it, girlfriend! The Wedding Night Thing is happening!
Or not
, her inner slut observed when Kae turned her over to a couple of older ladies-in-waiting. They hustled her through this corridor and that corridor, then outside and into another building, through more corridors, and finally into a big room with fancy painted screens and gold–trimmed lacquered cabinets. Inside, the abundance of spicy incense made her sneeze.
She was only vaguely aware of their constant chatter as they pulled her out of the layers of silk and padding. That part she appreciated. She also appreciated the fact that they allowed her to wash the deadly lead-based makeup from her face.
While she was scrubbing away, someone came in with a tray of tea things and a plate of small sugar cakes and rice balls. They set the pot of hot water on the metal warmer off to the side of the table before scurrying away like cartoon mice.
Emmi laughed. They weren’t like cartoon mice. This was Japan. They were anime mice with big, big eyes, little noses, short LoliGoth skirts and big boobs.
Laughing harder, she lifted this latest kimono up a bit and plopped down cross-legged on one of the soft floor cushions. She munched a rice ball and enjoyed feeling tipsy. She felt better now that she was out of all that stuff, excluding the greasy hair gunk that she wasn’t ready to think about just now. This kimono was very nice. It was light and simple without the overly long sleeves she’d been wearing recently. She felt so much lighter and freer just being naked under this…
Her underwear—whatever happened to her underwear from home? Kae had done something with the bra and panties after that night in the teahouse, but he’d never given them back.
A thoroughly crazy idea hit her. It couldn’t be, could it? Was he some nineteenth-century cross-dresser? Did they even have cross-dressers in the nineteenth century? Not counting the Kabuki theater, of course. Emmi continued to munch her rice ball and let her tipsy brain conjure images of Kae in her lingerie. She laughed. A lot.
Maybe she was a bit more than just tipsy from the sake.
Kae dismissed the servants who’d come to tend him. He shed the ridiculous court costume, slipped into a simple yukata and stretched out on his futon, or rather, one of the two new futons that had been placed side by side in his bedroom.
The sound of Emmi’s laughter drifted to him through the papered walls separating their rooms. She’d been so beautiful today, so graceful and noble, as if she’d been born a princess. But she hadn’t. She hadn’t even been born in Japan. She hadn’t even been born into the same world that he had.
He knew now that she wasn’t an oni, or a potential spy, or even the orphaned niece of the Maeda lord. Takehito had told him the truth, as unbelievable as it was. It had to be truth, the man was no fool. And he wouldn’t tell such a tale lightly. It might very well have him branded as insane or a barbarian sorcerer.
Emmi was of Maeda blood, but she would not be born into their family for well over a century. She had come from the mirror. Somehow she had slipped through the barriers of time, and he had saved her from a certain death by fire in the “modern” Kyoto from which she’d come.
His father had no idea of the truth and never would if Kae could help it. He’d arranged this marriage to bring money to his own family and to help strengthen
kobu gattai
—the ties between court and state—much in the way the marriage of the emperor’s sister to the shogun had been designed to unite the aristocratic and military powers.
But Takehito had agreed to it solely to protect one lost girl who carried the blood of Maeda samurai in her veins.
How could he not believe the older man who’d prostrated himself on the floor and begged him to marry Emmi, to keep her safe in the ensuing civil war they both knew was lurking just on the horizon of Japan’s future?
‘
I know as surely as I know my own heart that my brother will drag us into the thick of it to support his rebel friends. My retainers and I will commit seppuku before we follow him on that path, but I can’t ask Emiko to do the same. I beg you to agree to this union. With you, as a member of the court and your father’s house, she will be safe no matter the outcome. And, perhaps you can help her return to where she belongs…
’
The soft sound of a sliding wall panel brought Kae from his thoughts, and his hand went at once to the sword tucked under the futon’s edge. When he realized who the intruder was, he sat up and bowed deeply before speaking.
“You honor me with such a late visit, my prince. Are you having another sleepless night?”
Crown Prince Mutsuhito, who still liked to be called by his earlier name of Sachi, plopped onto the empty futon as any child might and shrugged.
“Where is your new wife?”
“In the next room, changing and dressing for bed.”
Sachi grinned. “Will you still have many mistresses like my father? Will you take turns with them sharing your bed?”
“I don’t have mistresses. I am too busy helping my father gather information to better advise yours.”
“Will you and Emiko have many children? Will they be my friends?”
“My children would be as honored as I am to be considered your friends.”
“Emiko said she would be my friend.”
“You’ve met her? Through Kojima-san?”
Sachi frowned at the mention of the snakelike courtier, and Kae hoped his opinion would remain the same when it was his time to ascend the throne.
“No, I met her in the park. She was writing bad poetry. I told her you were my only friend, and she said she would be my friend too.”
Kae smiled at the mention of bad poetry. He would have to see some of this for himself. His smile faded.
“Emiko is not yet well versed in the ways of the court. I respectfully ask that you excuse any small lapses in etiquette that may occur.”
Sachi shrugged and got up. “She seems kind. I will let her be my friend.”
Kae bowed again, and the prince disappeared once more into the secret passage.
Lying back down, Kae wondered if Emmi had any idea who Sachi was. He should tell her. Then again, perhaps not. If she knew he was the emperor’s heir, it might make her nervous, which might cause her to make potentially fatal mistakes of protocol. She needed to fit in here as much as possible. He would simply tell her that it was important to show everyone the proper respect, no matter how young that person might be.
He smiled to himself. So she wrote bad poetry, did she? Did she write bad poetry about him?
Remembering the gift he had for her, Kae got up and went to the four-drawer chest across the room. He removed a cloth-wrapped package and untied it. Inside were the strange undergarments that belonged to Emmi as well as similar silk ones he’d had made. The seamstress hadn’t been able to duplicate the strange, delicate metal fastenings on the top piece, so she’d used silk string ties instead. In the absence of the unusual, clingy, stretchy material that the originals used, she’d used more silk ties as well.
He set the package on her futon then went to the shoji separating their rooms. He slid it open, laughing softly when he saw her asleep before the table, bits of sugared cake stuck to her delicate chin.
* * * *
Kojima-san’s eyes and voice were hypnotizing. Emmi shivered with delight from the touch of his fan on her shoulder. She murmured when he touched the fan to the skin showing at the vee of her yukata front then giggled when he playfully kissed her chin.
“That tickles. You shouldn’t. What will people say?”
“They will say nothing because I am your husband and this is my right.”
Hello
! Emmi’s brain screamed through the alcohol fog cluttering her dozing mind.
That sexy voice was not Kojima’s!
Her eyes shot open and she sat up, bumping Kae’s nose hard with her head. “I’m sorry! I was dreaming! Are you okay?”
He nodded, blinked a few times and rubbed his nose, wincing as he did so.
She stared at him and hoped that it wasn’t broken, that blood wouldn’t start gushing out of his nose. He had a straight nose, and she didn’t want to be responsible for screwing it up. And she couldn’t forget those cheekbones that led down to a strong chin. And nice eyes too. Not as hypnotizing as Kojima-san’s but still fantastic—an intense dark brown with faint flecks of gold in them.
And don’t forget how good his mouth feels…
“Emmi,” he said softly, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. He pulled her to him, leaned in for a soft, slow kiss. It made her hot and shivery all at once.
When the kiss ended he stood and pulled her up with him. The sake from earlier hit her all over again and the room went one way while she went another. She practically collapsed, but Kae grabbed her. He wrapped those strong arms of his around her and scooped her up as though she were nothing. He carried her into another room and laid her down on a thick, cushy futon. He slid something out of the way then lay beside her.
Kae looked so gorgeous in the soft glow of the floor lantern, and she kept her gaze focused on his. She placed her hand atop his as he caressed the side of her face.
“I will care for you, Emiko. I will protect you. I will help you go home.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” she said, pulling him down for another kiss.
God, but he was an amazing kisser. His kiss was possessive and fierce, yet he was tender in the way he stroked his tongue across hers. As he loosened the thin belt closing her yukata and slid his hands over her flushed skin, she knew he wasn’t going to stop. And she certainly didn’t want him to.
She was nervous, but it was a good fear, an exciting fright that she was more than willing to experience. And what an experience it was.
The slutty part of Emmi’s brain was thoroughly sated and silent when Kae moved off her and cradled her in his arms. Emmi let the pleasant exhaustion, including the effects of the long day and many cups of sake, relax her into a drowsy state. She realized that, for the very first time in her life, everything was perfect, absolutely perfect.
She’d been an idiot to be so afraid. Whatever was responsible for her blast into the past had been a good thing, a great thing, and nothing could spoil it. Not now.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A light but noticeable ache behind her eyes greeted Emmi when she woke, alone. The pain in her head gave her a sharp nudge and she closed her eyes again a moment before a familiar voice teased her.
“The sleeping beauty awakens as in the foreign folk tale,” Kae said with a grin as he stepped in from an adjoining room that she hadn’t yet entered.
She sat up and gave Kae a smile. “Something like that.”
He smiled back as he came closer, his look more intense than it had been the night before. Despite the ache behind her eyes, Emmi was ready to let Kae lead her into anything at all.
Unfortunately he didn’t lead anywhere, because he all but ignored her. He finished getting dressed and pulled his damp hair up into a ponytail. Emmi pouted. He should have woken her up, too. She might have enjoyed a nice bath together so she could see if underwater sex really was extra hot.
When he took his swords and slid them into his belt, Emmi felt her pout turn to a frown. “Are you going somewhere?”
“I have work to do,” he said.
“But not all day. Just for a while, yes?”
He gave her a questioning look.
She looked around for her yukata and pulled it on. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Not get into any trouble. Call no attention to yourself.”
He was gone before Emmi could think of a snarky reply through her growing headache. The next thing she knew, the older ladies-in-waiting came in. One went to the tansu cabinet where clothing was kept, while the other started clearing the rumpled bed things.