Dragonfly by India Millar

Author:India Millar [Millar, India]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Empress Publishing
Published: 2020-04-26T16:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

Look, the moon uses

The sea as if it were her

Very own mirror

My thoughts were racing, and I spoke as the ideas passed through my head.

“If the baby couldn’t have been your father’s, then whose? A visitor? One of the servants? No, that wouldn’t do her any good. As soon as your father returned, her plot would be undone. If he still felt kindly toward her, he might have put her aside, I suppose. But he could just as easily have her executed. That’s probably the only thing a man in his position could do and retain some face. But she would know that. Surely she would never take such a risk. Why should she? I know you said your father was careful with his money, but if he was deeply in love with his new bride, she would be able to get anything she wanted from him.” I watched Fuma’s face and saw that he agreed with me. I was bewildered. “I don’t understand. What did she hope to gain from insisting she was pregnant? She must have known she could be signing her own death warrant.”

“You’ve forgotten one essential fact.” Fuma’s face was stone. He inclined his head, waiting for me to come to the answer myself. Suddenly, I had it.

“You said your father never returned from his journey to court. Did he die there?” My mouth was suddenly dry, and I coughed before I could speak. “Not at the shogun’s court. There would have been an outcry. We all would have heard about it. Besides, I don’t see what difference it would make. Even if Chiaki said she had lost the baby, no doubt from shock at the terrible news, what good would it do her? You were still alive and healthy. You would inherit.”

Fuma stared at the hull of the ship in silence. When he spoke, his voice was rough, and I guessed he was concealing tears.

“I said all along that you and I were alike, Soru. Now I am certain of it. You are samurai. I am daimyo. We were both raised to believe in the code of bushido. We were both taught that honor and consideration to all who depended upon us was our life’s blood. But Chiaki had no honor. All she thought about was herself and her precious brother. You still don’t understand, do you?”

I shook my head and repeated the same words I had used earlier. “Tell me.”

Fuma shrugged and shifted on the hard deck, tucking his feet under his crossed legs and pausing to gather his thoughts. I guessed there was much to come and waited with as much patience as I could muster. When he finally spoke, his voice was so low I was forced to lean forward to hear him.

“After I had spoken to Ran, my first instinct was to go to Chiaki and confront her. Ask her what game she was playing. I would not send a message to Father. Something as unpleasant and serious as this should wait until we were face to face.

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