Shadow Of The Fox. Julie Kagawa

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СКАЧАТЬ the air, rising above the rooftops, making her freeze in her tracks. It wasn’t a bird, though a thrush perched in a nearby bush warbled loudly in reply. It was a sound Suki knew instantly, had memorized each and every note. How many times had she heard it, drifting up from her father’s workshop? The sweet, haunting melody of a flute.

      Mesmerized, she followed the sound, momentarily forgetting her duties and that her new mistress would almost certainly be very annoyed that her tea was so late. The song drew her forward, a keening, mournful melody, like saying goodbye or watching autumn fade. Suki could tell that whoever was playing the instrument was skilled indeed; so much emotion lay between the notes of the song, it was as if she was hearing someone’s soul.

      So hypnotized was she by the sound of the flute, she forgot to look where she was going. Rounding a corner, Suki squeaked in dismay as a young noble in sky blue robes blocked her path, a bamboo flute held to his lips. The teapot rattled and the cups shook perilously as she swerved to avoid him, desperately trying not to spill the contents. The sound of the flute ceased as the noble, much to her amazement, turned and put out a hand to steady the tray before it toppled to the veranda.

      “Careful there.” His voice was high and clear. “Don’t want to drop anything—that would be an awful mess. Are you all right?”

      Suki stared at him. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. No, not handsome, she decided. Beautiful. His broad shoulders filled the robe he wore, but his features were graceful and delicate, like a willow tree in the spring. Instead of a samurai’s topknot, his hair was long and straight, falling well past his shoulders, and was pure white, the color of mountain snow. Even more amazing, he was smiling at her—not the cold, amused smirk of most nobles and samurai, but a real smile that reached the mirthful crescents of his eyes.

      “Please excuse me,” the man said, releasing the tray and taking a quick step back. His expression was calm, not irritated at all. “That was my fault, planting myself in the middle of the walk, not thinking anyone could be rushing around the corner with a tea tray. I hope I did not inconvenience you, miss...?”

      Suki opened her mouth twice before anything came out. “Please forgive me, lord.” Her voice was a whisper. Nobles did not speak like this to peasants; even she knew that. “I am Suki, and I am only a maid. Please don’t trouble yourself with the likes of me.”

      The noble chuckled. “It is no trouble, Suki-san,” he said. “I often forget where I am when I am playing.” He raised the flute, making her heart leap. “Please do not think any more of it. You may return to your duties.”

      He stepped aside for her to pass, but Suki didn’t move, unable to tear her gaze from the instrument in his slender hand. It was made of polished wood, dark and rich and straighter than an arrow, with a distinctive band of gold around one end. She knew she shouldn’t speak to the noble, that he could order her flogged, imprisoned, even executed if he wished it, but words escaped her all the same. “You play magnificently, my lord,” she whispered. “Forgive me. I know it is not my place to say anything, but my father would be proud.”

      He cocked his head, a flicker of surprise crossing his beautiful face. “Your father?” he asked, as understanding dawned in his eyes. “You are Mura Akihito’s daughter?”

       “Hai.”

      He smiled and gave her the barest of nods. “The song is only as beautiful as the instrument,” he told her. “When you see your father again, tell him that I am honored to possess such a masterpiece.”

      Suki’s throat closed up, and her eyes grew hot and blurry. The noble politely turned away, feigning interest in a cherry blossom tree, giving her time to compose herself. “Ah, but perhaps you are lost?” he inquired after a moment, examining a chrysalis on one of the slender branches. Turning back, his slender brows rose, but Suki caught no derision in his stance or voice, only amusement, as one might have when speaking to a wandering cat. “The emperor’s palace can be dazzling indeed to the uninitiated. Whose quarters are you assigned to, Suki-san? Perhaps I can point you in the right direction.”

      “L-Lady Satomi, my lord,” Suki stammered, truly stunned by his kindness. She knew she should bow, but she was terrified she would spill the tea. “Please forgive me, I have come to the palace only today, and everything is very confusing.”

      A slight frown crossed the noble’s face, making Suki’s heart nearly stop in her chest, thinking she had offended him. “I see,” he murmured, mostly to himself. “Yet another maid, Satomi-san? How many does the emperor’s concubine need?”

      Before Suki could wonder what that meant, he shook himself and smiled once more. “Well, fortune favors you, Suki-san. Lady Satomi’s residence isn’t far.” He raised a billowy sleeve, pointing an elegant finger down the walkway. “Go left around this building, then walk straight to the very end. It will be the last doorway on the right.”

      “Daisuke-san!” A woman’s voice echoed down the veranda before Suki could even whisper her thanks, and the man turned his beautiful face away. Moments later, a trio of noblewomen in elegant green-and-gold robes sashayed around the building and gave him mock frowns as they hurried forward.

      “There you are, Daisuke-san,” one of them huffed. “Where have you been? We are going to be late for Hanoe-san’s poetry recital. Oh,” she said, catching sight of Suki. “What is this? Daisuke-san, don’t tell me you were here all this time, talking to a maid.”

      “And why not?” Daisuke’s tone was wry. “A maid’s conversation can be as interesting as any noblewoman’s.”

      The three women giggled as if that were the funniest thing they had ever heard. Suki didn’t see what was so amusing. “Oh, Taiyo Daisuke, you say the most wicked things,” one of them chided from behind a white fan painted with cherry blossoms. “Come, now. We really must go. You,” she said, directing her gaze to Suki, “get back to your duties. Why are you just standing there gaping? Shoo!”

      As quickly as she could without spilling the tea, Suki hurried away. But her heart still pounded, and for some reason she couldn’t catch her breath. Taiyo. Taiyo was the name of the imperial family. Daisuke-sama was of the Sun Clan, one of the most powerful families in Iwagoto, the blood of the emperor himself. The funny feeling in her stomach intensified, and her thoughts became a swarm of moths, fluttering around the dazzling memory of his smile and the melody from her father’s flute.

      Somehow, she found her way to the correct door, at the very end of the veranda, looking over the magnificent gardens of the palace. The shoji panel was open, and Suki could smell the smoky hint of burning incense wafting from the darkened interior. Creeping inside the room, she peered around for her new mistress but saw no one. Despite the nobles’ unified preference for simplicity, this apartment was lavishly cluttered. Ornamental screens turned the room into a small maze, and tatami mats lined the entire floor, thick and soft beneath her feet. Paper was everywhere; origami sheets of every style and texture lay in piles around the apartment. Folded paper birds peered at her from atop every flat surface, dominating the room. Suki brushed a flock of origami cranes from the table so that she could set the tea down.

      “Mai-chan?” A gossamer voice drifted out of the adjoining room, and the sound of silk rustled over the floor. “Is that you? Where have you been? I was getting worried that you—oh.”

      A woman appeared in the doorway, and for a moment, they stared at one another, Suki’s mouth hanging open in amazement.

      If Taiyo Daisuke was the most handsome man she had ever met, this was the most elegantly beautiful woman in the whole palace. Her billowing robes were red with silver, СКАЧАТЬ