Page 21 of Drawn into Oblivion

Mai glanced at Shumei’s reflection, careful not to turn her head and disturb the capable hands of Kumi, a middle-aged woman from Winter’s House Rose, who was styling her hair. Shumei sat next to her, both of them sharing a vanity in the empress’s bedroom. Arisa, a young woman from Autumn’s House Bird, gently pulled a brush through Shumei’s hair.

“Because of the audience?” Mai asked. “That would make me nervous as well.”

“No, it’s not that. I’m worried I’ll forget a step. The traditional joining ceremony is so different from the marriage ceremony the blondies use.” She laughed, but it was a little too strained to be sincere. “No doubt they simplified it on purpose.”

“I don’t feel good,” Oka groaned from where he lay on the window seat.

“Oh? Did you eat breakfast?” Shumei asked, not moving her head.

“I couldn’t. My head hurts, and my stomach hurts,” he admitted, rubbing his belly.

“Are you nervous about the ceremony too?”

“I don’t think so, but it got really bad when I woke up this morning.” Mai tried to look at Oka, but Shumei and Arisa were in the way. Kumi reminded her to keep her head straight, and she was forced to look at the mirror again.

“What do you mean by ‘got really bad’? How long have you felt sick?” Shumei asked as she turned to look at Oka, forcing Arisa to stop.

“Only since this morning. I’m probably just nervous, like you said,” he conceded as he sat up. Mai wanted to interject and say he had admitted to feeling unwell many days ago, but she knew nothing of disease and didn’t want to upset Shumei unnecessarily on her joining day.

“Would someone get him a cup of water, please?” Shumei asked, glancing at the gaggle of women fretting over her gown, which hung on a wooden dress stand. It was such a pure white it seemed to glow. Black and silvery-white embroidery depicted a graceful crane standing in a shallow, rippling pond, its wings spread in preparation to take flight.

Of the three ladies, two were from Summer’s House Tree—Vallen’s house—and the other was from Mai’s House Sakura. They were all eager to fetch water for Oka, and a moment passed while they argued over who would go.

“Kyoko, would you?” Mai called, looking at her aide in the mirror.

“Right away,” Kyoko said with a nod, leaving the two Summer ladies to brush invisible dust off the empress’s dress.

Kyoko was barely eighteen and as fragile-looking as a fawn, but she was capable in anything and with everything. She had a knack for remembering names and other details, and wrote notes during house meetings, one of the few in their entire house who knew how to write. Rumor had it that until recently, even the empress hadn’t been fully literate. Mai had learned the basics from her mother, so she and Kyoko taught a few writing lessons every week. Mai would readily admit, however, that she learned more from Kyoko than what she taught to anyone else.

“Maybe you ate something that didn’t agree with you last night,” Shumei suggested to Oka. “Let me feel your forehead.” She beckoned him over, but he stayed where he was.

“I don’t have a fever,” he said, pouting. “I’ll be fine.”

While Kumi pawed through a set of pins on the vanity, Mai leaned for a look at Oka. His outfit for the ceremony was adorable—a light green shirt with a golden sun on his shoulder, and dark green slacks. He wore a hand-tooled leather belt that depicted a deer progressing from fawn to buck, and from it hung a specially made sword with a gold-plated hilt. He had resisted wearing both, and she couldn’t blame him. The way the other ladies had cooed and pinched his cheeks would have annoyed her as well.

But something about him was undeniably off. His temper seemed shorter, and he moved as though being careful with himself. Was he feeling worse than he let on, but loath to cause a problem on an important day? Mai had no skill with healing medicine, magical or otherwise, but she decided to keep an eye on Oka. Over the last decade, she had been routinely dismissed as a simple cleaning woman, so she understood how much it hurt to be ignored. She vowed to offer some of her time to Oka, if he needed it.

“Will you take some medicine anyway?” Shumei pleaded. She silently gestured to Arisa, who retrieved an ornate box from a table laden with small, sweet treats and flowers.

“Head straight, please,” Kumi said. “We’re almost finished.” Mai looked at herself in the mirror, grudgingly pleased with the results of thirty minutes of pulling and tugging. Kumi had used several purple ribbons when braiding her hair into four thick ropes, and had deftly woven them together to sit on her nape.

Having chosen several hair ornaments, Kumi carefully slid them into place, and Mai grimaced as the pins scraped her scalp. A couple ornaments were gold-plated prongs with a round, simplistic design at the end that depicted cranes flying over flowers. A few more prongs ended with golden beads. The most complex hair ornament was a dangling string of metal rings and violet flowers made of resin. It tinkled softly as Kumi adjusted its placement.

“Here, swallow this with your water,” Shumei said.

“I’ll be fine,” Oka said, exasperated. Mai heard him get up and watched his reflection as he walked to the door just in time for Kyoko to return. He took the cup from her hand and continued out of the room.

“Is he feeling better?” Kyoko asked, posing her question to no one in particular.

The empress heaved a sigh. “There isn’t enough time in the day,” she lamented, turning back to the mirror. Arisa resumed brushing her hair, pulling out the last tangles with gentle tugs.

“We’re ready to paint your face,” Kumi said. Mai swiveled away from the mirror, swinging her legs to the other side of the bench, while Kumi opened the lid of a large paint set sitting on the vanity. The array of colors inside spanned the rainbow. She looked up at Kumi, who carefully studied her face.

“Elder Mai is very beautiful,” she concluded, turning Mai’s face left then right. “You have an excellent complexion, even tone…”

“Are you only now noticing that?” Shumei said with a giggle.

“You would be downright ethereal with a little tinted rice powder, but that’s reserved for the empress today.” Clearly having decided on a strategy, Kumi went to work, choosing a small brush and liberally dipping the tip into a pat of gold…paste? Mai had no idea what it was made from, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.