I don’t respond well to forced inactivity. I decided I needed to get up and walk. Also, despite Benkon’s exhortations to the contrary, I thought I might find some saké.
Stopping every so often to lean against the railings of the walkways to catch my breath, I stumbled over to the kitchen. It was between lunch and dinner, so things were slow. The only people there were Cook and some of her assistants. One of them looked a bit familiar, but it took me a moment to recognize Reiko. She wore a ragged peasant robe and was scrubbing dishes. She seemed unhappy.
Dimples came in and began speaking earnestly to her mother. I moved closer to hear her. “She must be an imperial princess in disguise, and he must be a high noble, like Prince Genji. They’re probably under a curse, which is why she lives as a shirabyoushi and why he’s pretending to be a lowly bushi!”
I couldn’t keep from wincing.
A deep voice behind me said, “So, what brings an august personage such as yourself to our lowly kitchen?”
I sighed. I hadn’t noticed Professor sitting in the far corner of the kitchen eating a snack of some dried fish. I grabbed a little food of my own and a bowl of saké and sat down with him. “Pay no attention to her. I’ve no clue how she got this crazy idea stuck in her head. I hate to think what Hyacinth-sama will say when she hears about it. I hope no one is taking Dimples seriously.”
Professor looked thoughtful. “Well, let’s see. Generally, Hyacinth-sama leaves the hiring of the male staff to me. In this instance, however, she personally hires you, then sends you off on some special task that is too sensitive for anyone but you and Mouse to handle. After being gone for a fortnight or so, you show back up suddenly in the middle of the night at death’s door. When she sees you, she starts barking orders left and right and sends for one of the best healers in the capital. While waiting for him to get here, she tends to you herself, allowing no one else but your mysterious driver into the building. The driver disappears, Mouse won’t talk about what happened, and Benkon is being remarkably closed-mouthed, too. Why should anyone pay attention to the girl’s crazy ideas? It’s not like there’s anything strange about you.”
I sighed again and took a drink. It wasn’t saké, but the same boiled plant juice Benkon had insisted I drink. “I’m just a regular bushi.”
Professor cocked his head to one side and pursed his lips. “A bushi who undertakes mysterious errands and who never speaks of his family. Most bushi won’t say ‘Hello’ without reciting their lineage first.”
I stood and bowed. “My name is Minamoto no Yoshimitsu, from the Seiwa Genji line of the Minamoto family. My great-grandfather was Minamoto no Yoshiiye, known as Hachiman-Tarou, the first-born of the War God. Yoshiiye was the greatest bushi in history. He defeated Kiyohara no Takahira in the Later Three-Year War and hunted demons with Abé no Seimei.” I sat down.
Professor stood and bowed, “I am Teshiba no Ryouji. My father is Teshiba no Tarou who defeated the bandit leader Hashimoto no Ochibo and overcame his band of one hundred bandits.”
After he sat down, I continued, “I was born and raised here in the capital, but most of my close kin were killed several years ago in a raid on some pirates.”
Professor thought a moment. “I remember that. Some people thought they’d become too citified, so when it came time for them to actually fight, they’d lost their edge. You must have been too young to go.”
I blazed up in anger. “Oh? I’d like to see how well you would do outnumbered eight-to-one and trapped in a narrow defile with arrows coming down on you from above.”
Professor looked at me strangely.
I continued, less vehemently, “Or at least, that’s what I heard happened. In any case, give me a month or so to recover and I’ll show you how out-of-training one of us ‘citified bushi’ is.”
He shook his head. “Don’t take it personally, I was just repeating what people said.” He gave a mocking laugh. “I sound like my ignorant father. I should just shut up now.”
I relaxed. “No matter. People said a lot of things when it happened. I just get angry when those who weren’t there spout off about it. The only ones who know what really happened are dead.”
“I can understand your feelings. Actually, I’m jealous. You were lucky to grow up here in the capital. I grew up in Owari province. When I was young, I ran across a translation of a Chinese text on military strategy, and it captivated me. From that point, all I wanted to do was acquire more Chinese texts and study them. Impossible for a provincial bushi, of course. My father beat me and told me I had no business worrying about Chinese learning. ‘That’s the place of those noble ponces in the capital, not you. You’ll stay and study arms and fighting, or I’ll beat you until you do.’ I ran away to the capital, then found out they had an entire school devoted to nothing but studying Chinese literature, philosophy, and language here.” He shook his head in self-mockery. “When I went to talk to the scholars, they were in hysterics at the idea a hairy, oversized yokel would want to join them.”
His face became regretful. “I was much too stubborn to admit my father had been right, so I stayed here in Kyoto and got by doing odd jobs. Every so often, I would buy a scroll. One day, Mouse came across me dickering with an old woman for a fragment of a Chinese text on defensive tactics. He brought me here, Hyacinth-sama talked to me and gave me a job on the spot. I’ve been here ever since.”
He opened his arms in an expansive gesture. “She exposed me to a whole new world. She taught me Chinese and let me read from her personal library. She arranged for me to have access to the imperial library. Sometimes, the two of us discuss what I’m reading.” He shook his head. “I’ve met lecturers at the Imperial College who didn’t know as much as she does.”
I wondered what Professor would say if he knew Surei’s father had been one of the top Chinese scholars in Kyoto before being stripped of his rank and dying in exile. His idea of raising a child involved lectures on Chinese classics and homework on the lectures. Despite being female, Surei absorbed her father’s teachings like a sponge absorbs water. It didn’t surprise me she could hold forth on those subjects extemporaneously. She had certainly badgered me often enough when we studied together as children.
In a neutral tone, I said, “She sounds like a remarkable woman.”
Professor gave me a sharp look as if he thought I was making fun of him. Satisfied I wasn’t, he stood. As he was about to leave, he stopped and said, “You have had quite a bit of military experience, haven’t you?”
Wondering what he was getting at, I was cautious in my answer. “Some.”
He nodded his head. “Good. It seems that Hyacinth-sama intends to have you join our ranks at some point in time, so I might as well start familiarizing you with how we do things here. Are you busy right now?”
I took one last gulp of my food and rose from the table. “Not at all.”
“Then follow me.”
We left the kitchen and headed for the west gate. “Our yojimbo are primarily concerned with keeping order among the customers, of course. However, it is almost as important to ensure that we prevent undesirables from gaining access to the grounds.”
I grinned. “You mean people like Mouse?”
“Exactly,” Professor said, completely missing the humor in my comment. “In fact, Mouse was quite helpful in suggesting ways to limit the opportunities for pilferage in case anyone gets inside the compound.”
“Pilferage?”
“Yes. You may not realize it, but a thief that broke in could make a fortune off the items he stole. We store an enormous amount of saké on the premises, and most of it is good quality. Some of it is the best saké that money can buy. In addition to the saké, we keep bolts of expensive silk and linen for the robes of the dancers. Cook maintains two larders of rare delicacies for our discriminating patrons.”
I mulled the thought over. “It never occurred to me.”
We arrived at the west gate. Professor spoke briefly with the two men on duty, checking to see if there were any incidents he needed to be aware of. Nothing unusual had taken place, so we left.
“We’ll go check out the east gate now,” he told me. “The fastest way is to cut through the garden.”
As we traversed the shaded paths in the garden, Professor stopped and laid his hand on my arm, bringing me to a halt. I looked at him in surprise, but he shook his head and placed his finger to his lips. Faintly but clearly, I heard a male voice.
“…was wondering if you would be willing to tell me Sub-Minister Hayashi’s favorite saké.”
“I would be happy to,” Surei’s voice answered.
Apparently, Professor and I had stumbled on Surei talking to one of the customers in an out-of-the-way part of the garden, and Professor didn’t want to interrupt.
Surei continued, “If I may be so forward, what is the occasion?”
The man said, “I have recently been introduced to some … opportunities that I think he might also find fruitful. I thought to send him some saké and then visit him to discuss the matter.”
“Would these opportunities involve Retired Emperor Sutoku?” Surei asked, in a cautious manner.
“Exactly,” the man said with some satisfaction. “So you can understand why I would want to ensure my gift would create the best impression possible.”
Surei didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, in an offhanded tone, she said, “It is not well known yet, but I have it on the best authority that Sub-Minister Hayashi’s oldest daughter is going to be marrying the grandson of Fujiwara no Tadamichi, the Minister of the Right.”
There was a sharp intake of breath. “Are you sure of your information?” the man asked.
“Oh yes, the young man told me himself two evenings ago when he came by.”
“That is very good to know, Mistress Hyacinth. I don’t know how I can thank you,” the man said. His voice was shaken, as if he had suffered a nasty shock.
Surei and the man came around the corner of the path, heading back towards the Summer Hall, still deep in conversation.
Professor bowed deeply to the pair. I bowed less deeply, but as much as my injuries would permit. Surei shot a quick sideways glance at us, then returned her attention to her companion.
The man seemed not to have seen either of us but continued speaking to Surei. “Perhaps instead of a gift for Sub-Minister Hayashi, I could get you to send me a case of my favorite saké…” The conversation faded in the distance.
We continued, but Professor seemed distracted. I finally asked him, “What is bothering you?”
He gave a start, “What? Oh, well, that conversation, it is a bit unsettling…”
“Unsettling? Because someone is marrying someone’s grandson?”
“Noooo…” he said, then sighed.
“Our clients patronize the Spring Palace not just for the saké—though it is the finest—the dancers—although the Hyacinth’s apprentices are most skilled—or the food—though Cook is an absolute genius. No, many of the men who come here are anxious to hear the latest gossip of the court and the capital. Also, they talk. They talk to each other, they talk to the girls, and especially, those that have the ear of the Mistress talk to her.”
He was silent for a moment. “The yojimbo listen to the conversations among the men and report what they hear. The girls report anything they hear. Eventually, the Mistress knows everything that is said here in the Spring Palace. She is probably better informed of the goings-on in the capital than anyone but the Regent and the Ministers of the Left and Right.”
“That could be useful,” I said.
“You have no idea,” he said, drily.
“In many ways, information is the most precious commodity we deal in. The Minister of the Right is Emperor Go-Shirakawa’s staunchest supporter. The marriage of Sub-Minister Hayashi’s daughter to the Minister’s grandson means that he has thrown his support behind the Emperor. By relaying that information, Hyacinth-sama prevented the gentleman we overheard from inadvertently exposing his commitment to Retired Emperor Sutoku.”
My head hurt from all the intrigues in the court. “So, Hyacinth-sama supports Sutoku?”
Professor shook his head. “We don’t support anyone. However, the gentleman will pay several times the value of the case of saké he ordered, in gratitude for the information.”
Surei has her own spy network?
*****
A few days later, I started training again. Benkon suggested I begin with some of the basic forms of his “moving meditation.” They turned out to be more challenging than I expected. After I recovered some of my strength, I supplemented his exercises with a few weapon drills of my own. I couldn’t work with the naginata because of my injured left arm, but I could do one-handed drills with the tachi and kodachi. At first, even the briefest training sessions exhausted me, but my strength and agility slowly returned.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
In between bouts of training, I wandered around the Spring Palace. Surei’s young protégés were everywhere. Dimples was the unofficial leader of the girls not yet old enough to entertain the customers. They resembled nothing so much as a flock of birds. When they weren’t working, all ten or twelve of them would wander from place to place, always together, chattering away, their voices drowning out everything nearby.
That day, I had worked myself up to a particularly strenuous level of training. For the first time, I was incorporating drills with the naginata in my routine and exercising my injured shoulder. I had stopped at the kitchen for a snack when the group came in. They sat together nearby. They were noisy as usual, but then one of them looked over at me and pointed. Immediately, the group fell silent. A bit later, I noticed them staring at me intently, still quiet. I began to get concerned. If there was anything I had learned about those girls, it was that they were never silent. When they saw me looking at them, they turned away in confusion, some blushing furiously. Some conversation resumed, but in more subdued tones. I caught the word Genji.
On my way back to my room, I was stopped by White Ume.
She bowed deeply. “Hyacinth-sama wishes to see you,” she said. “Please follow me.”
When we got there, she tapped on the door. “Here he is, Mistress, your Genji.” Then she slid the panel open.
Surei was sitting on the floor at one end of the room. She motioned me to sit and indicated I should get myself a drink of what turned out to be Benkon’s tea.
I was getting tired of the whole Genji thing, so, before I got a drink, I asked Surei, “Do you have any idea what this Genji business is? The young girls keep giggling about it and now the Ume twins are in on it.”
Surei looked surprised. “I imagine they are just talking about the fact you’re a Minamoto, but I’ll ask.”
I poured myself some tea and started drinking.
Surei called White Ume back. “What did you mean when you said ‘here is your Genji’?”
White Ume reddened a little as she answered. “Well, you have to understand all of us have wondered about you. It’s clear you were noble-born, and we all had our theories of what happened.”
“What does this have to do with Yoshi?”
White Ume pointed to me. “When he told Dimples you were an imperial princess, it merely confirmed what we all believed.”
“He told her what?!”
I choked and spit tea all over the table.
“It’s clear from his noble bearing and regal presence he is an imperial prince. Dimples thinks you are two cursed lovers, but she’s an imaginative child. Still, everyone can see you are both more than you appear.”
Surei had been alternately glaring at White Ume and me. However, when White Ume said, “his noble bearing and regal presence,” and particularly “imperial prince,” Surei broke into peals of merriment, laughing so hard she wound up lying on her side on the floor.
White Ume seemed confused. Apparently, this was not the reaction she had expected.
Surei sat up and turned to me with an exaggerated expression of sorrow. “Alas, dear one, all our secrets are out. There’s no point in pretending anymore, my sweet, shining, Hikaru Genji.”
I stared at her. The name Hikaru Genji literally means The Shining Minamoto. It was the name of the protagonist of the most famous of the courtly romances, Genji Monogatari. By calling me that, Surei was implicitly endorsing Dimples’ fantasies.
Surei’s lost her mind.
With a solemn look, Surei told White Ume, “You must caution everyone they are to keep this matter to themselves. There are powerful forces arrayed against my dear Yoshi. They must not find him. Warn everyone to be careful.”
Her eyes burning with curiosity and puffed up with her new-found importance, White Ume gave her deepest bow first to Surei, then to me. She rushed out of the room to pass the word along.
Surei chuckled and shook her head. “The Umes served forty years at court starting long before we were born. They are personally acquainted with every member of the imperial family. I have no idea how they can believe either of us is related to the Emperor.”
Angrily, I asked her, “What are you playing at, calling me Hikaru Genji?”
“You’re the one that started it, telling Dimples I was an imperial princess.”
“I didn’t tell Dimples anything!” I shouted. I stopped and took a few deep breaths. “All I did was start to say ‘Surei’ and corrected myself, and she was off.”
Surei started laughing again. “Oh, Yoshi, I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t resist. The girls will keep trying to figure out who you are, and this way, their minds will be so consumed with the thought of having a high-born noble living here with us in disguise, they won’t have time to worry about anything else. Of course, they all have a secret dream of meeting and falling in love with someone like that.” She sighed. “I tell them it will never happen, but they have their hopes. I think you are going to have a very interesting time for a while.”
She sobered. “I need to ask you something. Today, a person came by here with this.” She picked up a red hyacinth clasp from the table, “and this,” picking up a familiar scroll from the table, “made out to me. I assume you can explain this?”
“Is he still here?”
“Yes, I told White Ume to have him wait in one of the private rooms.”
I stood up.
“Where are you going?” Surei asked.
“That’s District Magistrate Taira, and I’m going to go kill the traitorous son-of-a-bitch.”
She gestured impatiently. “Sit down! If you kill him, how are we going to find out who in the capital is conspiring with him against Akiko? We need that information if we are to help her.”
“I don’t care, I’m still going to kill him.”
“Stop acting like a child. We need him and you can’t kill him. Yet.”
Fingering my kodachi, I growled, “I’m sure I could get the information for you.”
Surei ignored me. “Will you sit down and explain what’s going on?”
With a sigh, I sat back down and related how District Magistrate Taira came to have the pin and the scroll.
Surei mused, “So, not only did he try to kill you, now he is here to collect on the reward you gave him. He’s certainly a bold one. From all the gold he is wearing, he’s wealthy, too.” Her eyes narrowed until they were just slits. “An fascinating situation. There may be some opportunities here.” She went to the door and called one of her girls. “Find Mouse and have him join us immediately.”
We sat in silence until Mouse came in and sat down. “What’s goin’ on?”
Surei explained the situation to him. “So, this Taira person is here and expects me to welcome him with open arms,” she finished. “I was thinking we could use the opportunity to get some information while relieving him of some of his excess wealth.”
She glanced at me. “Did he say anything to you about why he is here in Kyoto? If we know what he is planning to do, we might be able to take advantage of it.”
“Relieving him of some of his excess wealth!” I stared at Surei in astonishment. “Are you trying to help Akiko or line your coffers?”
Surei smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. “He owes me for a horse.”
I shook my head as I thought back to my conversations with him. “If I had to take a guess, I would say he is trying to get Governor Abé removed as provincial governor.”
Rocking back and forth slightly, Surei nodded her head. “He probably wants the governor’s job himself. So, he is an office-seeker.” She looked at Mouse. “You know, this might be an excellent opportunity for a Pigeon Drop…”
Mouse disagreed. “Nah, that wouldn’t work here. How about we try a variation on the Long Stanza…”
“No, we need something that will make him think everything is his own idea…”
She stopped for a moment, then, she and Mouse said together, “Magic Dancer!”
Surei chortled. “And we can use Yoshi to force him to run when we’re finished!” With a giggle, she said, “Oh, Taira will pay for attacking Yoshi and stealing from Akiko. When we get done with him, he is going to wish he had never been born.”
Serious again, she checked herself over in the mirror and straightened her robes, making invisible adjustments to her sleeves. “You two, get out! Mouse, you know what to do, and Taira mustn’t see Yoshi.”
“Wait,” I objected as Mouse grabbed my arm.
“Just watch,” he said as we went outside. We peered through slits in the wall to observe what happened.
There came a rap at the door. “Magistrate Taira to see you, mistress.” As Taira entered the room, Surei rose smoothly to her feet, stunning in her grace and poise. She seemed to have become even more beautiful. In a soft voice, she asked him, “I understand you wished to speak with me. What may I do for you?”
The ease with which she donned the guise of a high-born noblewoman still amazed me. The diction and pronunciation of her softly murmuring voice were elegant and cultured, suffused with the automatic and unthinking sense of superiority that was the hallmark of only the highest ranking nobles. In her regular speech, Surei was direct, plain-spoken and precise, almost pedantic. The change in tone was like listening to two entirely different people.
District Magistrate Taira had been an affront to fashion and good taste when I had first seen him in Isé. Here, among the Spring Palace’s refined arrangements of buildings, furnishings, and gardens, the magistrate’s vulgar clothing and boorish manner were as out of place as a toad at an imperial banquet.
He came up to Surei and, in a sycophantic tone, said, “Scarlet Hyacinth-san, tales of your beauty don’t do you justice.” Surei lowered her eyes demurely and fluttered her fan, accepting the compliment as no more than her due.
“I believe we have a mutual friend. Did they show you the note?”
Surei yawned slightly, managing to look both bored and a bit scornful. “Yes, this, what was his name again?” as she opened the scroll and pretended to read it, “Oh yes, this Yoshi person. An evening’s diversion, on a night when I had too much to drink, and my judgment was … impaired. As I recall, he was a small-time gambler who fancied himself a lady-killer. He hung around for a while, but I finally had to throw him out when I caught him stealing.”
Surei peered at Magistrate Taira a bit more carefully. “You say you are a friend of his?” I realized Surei had to be convincing in her condemnation of me to fool the magistrate, but hearing the scorn in her voice, I could wish she weren’t quite so convincing.
The magistrate said quickly, “Not really a friend, more of an acquaintance—a casual acquaintance. We happened to meet and talk for a little while down in Isé. I did him a small favor, and he gave me the two items.” He was sweating heavily.
Surei looked at him in sympathy. “And no doubt he told you something about how he was an old friend of mine in return for this favor?”
“Well, yes. But he is unimportant. I have many other friends here in the capital,” he hastened to assure Surei. “Very influential men.”
“Ah,” Surei bowed politely, “I thank you for returning my clasp. Do have a drink on the house while with your friends.” She turned away.
A look of panic crossed Magistrate Taira’s face. “My friends didn’t think to invite me to join them. I thought, since I returned your clasp…”
“I can send one of my girls to let them know of the situation. Who are your friends?”
Magistrate Taira wiped his brow and stammered. “Well…”
Surei regarded him coolly. “I see. Well, I can’t allow just anyone in the Summer Hall. You must be at least upper fourth rank or an imperial prince. Otherwise, my guests would be besieged with people asking favors. I have to protect their privacy. I’m sure you understand.”
She glanced at the scroll, then said grudgingly, “You are a district magistrate. If you were suitably dressed, I could allow you into the Winter Hall.”
It was priceless, seeing the expression on Magistrate Taira’s face when he realized he had come all the way to the Spring Palace for nothing, that Surei had no intention of allowing him into the exclusive Summer Hall.
He didn’t take kindly to her disparagement of wardrobe. He demanded, “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
She looked away, as if offended by his insultingly direct question. “They are not really the latest fashion.”
She was being kind. The fabrics he wore had never been in fashion. His jacket was even more ostentatious than the one he had worn in Isé. It had several tael worth of gold woven into it along with gem studded gold clasps.
Surei looked him up and down, then said in a musing tone, “I suppose we could exchange that jacket for something more appropriate…”
Mouse tugged on my arm and pulled me away.
I followed him down the walkway to the front gate. “He isn’t actually going to exchange that jacket for simple brocade, is he? The gold alone is worth a fortune, not to mention the gems.”
Mouse chuckled. “And admit he couldn’t even get a drink here when he gets back to Isé? She’s got him.”
We stopped at the small stream feeding the garden and Mouse washed his face and slicked his hair down. Then he stuck me out of sight behind the stables, while he shambled towards the gate with shoulders slumped, the picture of dejection. Four of Taira’s guards and an assistant were standing near their horses, waiting for the return of their master. They looked bored.
“These is bad times,” Mouse said to himself.
One of the guards heard him and took the bait. “Hey, you! What are you so glum about?”
Mouse repeated, “These is bad times indeed.” He looked back at the Spring Palace. “Senior Retired Emperor Toba usually sponsors the kurabiraki, the first saké tasting of the year. There’s a big party and all the nobles and ministers come. A man can make good money helping prepare for it.” He sighed and slouched. “Not this year. He's real sick, so they aren’t doin’ it. My wife’s goin’ to be mad.”
The men made sympathetic noises.
“You’d think someone else would want to do it in his place. They’d get all of them important people feelin’ kindly towards him.” Mouse shook his head and walked out the gate. “Bad times is what it is, bad times.”
District Manager Taira eventually left Surei’s office, accompanied by White Ume. I waited for them to get out of sight, then went back to talk to Surei. She was discussing dancers and musical entertainment for the Summer and Winter Halls with Pink Ume. When I opened the door, Surei motioned for me to sit down.
After Pink Ume left, I asked, “How did it go with Taira?”
Surei glanced over in the corner where the gold-encrusted robe had been laid out and smiled. “Very well, thank you. That should pay for the horse his men killed and your damaged clothing, anyway. I think we’ll be able to squeeze a lot more money from him before we are done.”
“I still don’t understand how this is going to help Akiko. What do you have planned?”
Surei launched into a description of their idea. It was a complicated scheme to strip Taira of his money and humiliate him for trying to kill me. It would also prevent him from achieving his objectives here in the capital, and reveal his contacts in the city. Finally, they would determine which of those contacts was involved with Taira in the scheme against Akiko.
“…and we might even get him to finance the refurbishing of the dance pavilion, while we are at it.”
I gazed at her, silent for some time. Finally, I said, “It sounds like you are going to get quite a bit from Taira before you’re done. Tell me Surei, how much is enough?”
She looked startled. “Enough of what?”
I waved at our surroundings. “Of this. How much of all this is enough? You’re a wealthy woman with a shinden bigger than many of the houses in the capital. Now you are planning to take Taira for as much as you can get from him. So, how much is enough? When will you be satisfied? Are you ever going to make a life other than dancing?”
Her eyes hardened. “Of course I am going to make a life other than dancing. Dancing is for young women. Have you noticed the old woman we have doing the cleaning around here? She was the best dancer of her generation. Look where she is now. There is no place in the world for an aged shirabyoushi.”
She stood up and walked over to rearrange the flowers in a vase on a shelf against the wall. “A woman in this world has two paths for stability. One is to inherit enough wealth to permit her to live her life as she pleases. The second is to marry a husband rich enough to take care of her. My father was convicted of treason and died in exile, so both of these options are forever out of my reach. His properties were seized by the government and no one would want to risk marrying a traitor’s daughter.”
She finished with the flowers and turned back to face me. “I am making a third way. My goal is to become wealthy enough on my own that I can do what I want. I will never have to rely on a man again. To accomplish that, I will do whatever I have to. Whatever it takes, I will get the money from these men. I’ll have enough money when I can purchase a shouen of my own. I have five years at most to accomplish this before I become too old to hold a man’s interest.”
I said nothing. On an intellectual level, I could understand Surei’s point. Her only road to self-sufficiency was to cater to the vulgar, gaudy, social parasites who had all wealth. On an emotional level, the situation sickened me.
Finally, I said, “All you want from men is their money. I have no money, so tell me Surei—what do want from me?”
She made no reply.