The Geisha Who Could Feel No Pain (Secrets From The Hidden House Book 2) by India Millar

Author:India Millar [Millar, India]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Empress Publishing
Published: 2017-08-21T16:00:00+00:00

It was silly, but I was absurdly nervous about going out into the teaming streets of the Floating World. The last time I had been out of the Hidden House had been well over three years ago, when I was still a maid and escorted Midori to the kabuki. Was there anything of that confident, worldly girl left in me? Judging by the way I jumped at every unexpected noise and scurried with my head down, I doubted it.

I had expected that Auntie would insist on Bigger—or if I was impossibly lucky, Ken—accompanying me, both to ensure that I got to Mori-san’s establishment in safety and—far more importantly in Auntie’s view—came back to the Hidden House. I was shocked when she said one of the maids would go with me, but now I realized that Auntie knew me better than I knew myself. Those three years had changed me, and she knew it. With every step through the crowded, noisy streets, I began to long for the quiet and security of the Hidden House. I nearly screamed out loud when a hand fell on my arm, stopping me so suddenly my maid almost trod on the back of my kimono.

“Nice day for a walk, dear.” A man was close beside me, far too close for either politeness or comfort. He grinned at me and nestled his head on my shoulder, his face turned awkwardly to stare at me.

“Yes, lord,” I whispered. He obviously wasn’t noble, but flattery never went astray with a man.

“And where are we going to, my pretty geisha?”

Auntie had insisted that I wear full makeup and my prettiest kimono. “I’m not having Kiku thinking things have gotten run down just because she’s left us,” Auntie had said firmly. The time it had taken to get ready had irritated me, but I was so eager to get on my way I would have agreed to almost anything.

“To Mori-san’s house, lord,” I answered quickly. No point in lying. Besides, Mori-san was a prosperous merchant, perhaps his name would give me a little respect from this man, who—judging by his dress—was probably a merchant himself.

“Ah. Mori-san has sent for you?”

“Yes, lord.”

I was astonished. His head lifted from my shoulder in a flash, and suddenly he was standing back from me and almost bowing.

“You must be on your way then, geisha.” His hand fluttered at me and I bowed quickly, walking away before he could change his mind.

I was so puzzled I almost walked past the new kabuki theater without noticing it. Almost, until a garish playbill caught my eye. There was a new danjuro taking the lead, of course. The name of “danjuro” was always given to the chief actor in the kabuki, the man who was lucky enough to be both supremely talented and to belong to the leading family in the theater, either born to the family, or—as was the case with Midori’s Danjuro—was so talented that he was adopted into the family. Would the new danjuro be as talented as Midori’s lover? I found it difficult to believe.

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