The Ronin's Mistress by Laura Joh Rowland Page B

I’m sorry, where are my manners?” She dropped her comb and bowed. “A thousand thanks for coming. I’m Okaru.”
    She was younger than Reiko had expected—perhaps sixteen. Small and slim and lithe, she was also beautiful. She had a heart-shaped face with round cheeks, and large, limpid, innocent eyes. Her skin glowed like pearls. Her teeth were white and perfect, her lips soft and pink as peony petals. Her smile was radiant.
    “This is my cousin-in-law Chiyo, and my son Masahiro,” Reiko said.
    Okaru said breathlessly, “I’m so honored to make your acquaintance!”
    Chiyo replied calmly and politely. Reiko couldn’t help liking Okaru, the girl was so sweet; but she knew that first impressions could be erroneous. Masahiro stared at Okaru, his eyes wide and mouth open.
    “Please allow me to introduce Goza.” Okaru’s delicate hand gestured toward her companion. “My servant.”
    Goza squatted on the floor, like a man.
    “Please sit down,” Okaru said.
    Reiko and her companions knelt, crowded together in the small space.
    “May I offer you some refreshments?” Okaru lifted the lid of a teapot and said, “Oh, no, the tea is all gone. And I’m afraid we’ve finished the rice cakes.”
    “You don’t need to give us anything.” Reiko remembered that Okaru was short on money. “We’ve come to help you.”
    Okaru’s beautiful face crumpled. “And I’m so thankful. Because I’m in such terrible trouble! Or rather, Oishi is. I’m so afraid.” Tears shone in her limpid eyes.
    Chiyo handed Okaru a handkerchief. Reiko could see that Chiyo sympathized with the girl but reserved judgment about her. Okaru wiped her tears, swallowed, and breathed deeply.
    “Let’s start at the beginning,” Reiko said. “Where did you come from?”
    “Miyako,” Okaru said.
    Miyako was the imperial capital, a fifteen-day journey from Edo in good weather, perhaps twice as long in winter. “That’s quite far,” Reiko said. “And you came by yourself?”
    “I had Goza.” Okaru smiled at her servant. “She protected me.”
    “Who is your family?” Reiko couldn’t believe they would let a girl so young travel so far with only one female attendant. The highway was dangerous.
    “I haven’t any family.” Sadness filled Okaru’s voice.
    “What happened to your parents?” Reiko asked.
    “They died four years ago, when I was twelve. I’ve been on my own since then.”
    Pity filled Reiko. She happened to glance at Masahiro and saw him leaning toward Okaru as if fascinated. “How have you managed to live?”
    “I work at a teahouse.” Okaru spoke in a small but brave voice. Her cheeks flushed.
    Reiko understood that Okaru was one of the many teahouse girls who did more than serve drinks. She was a prostitute, the lowly kind that worked outside the licensed pleasure quarters where prostitution was legal. Reiko marveled that Okaru had retained her beauty and innocence for this long. But Chiyo recoiled from Okaru, as many samurai ladies would. Masahiro frowned in confusion. Although Reiko knew he’d seen teahouse girls soliciting customers, he was too young to understand exactly what they did.
    After a brief, awkward silence, Reiko said, “When did you come to Edo?”
    “Yesterday.” Okaru smiled, thankful that Reiko didn’t shun her because of her occupation. “I asked the innkeeper if there was anybody who helps travelers with problems, that I could go to. I was thinking of a convent.” Convents and monasteries took in people who were down on their luck. “He mentioned you. He found me a scribe to write my letter.”
    The innkeeper had been kinder than he looked, Reiko thought. But a man would have to be made of stone to resist Okaru. “What brought you here?”
    “Oishi came. I followed him.”
    “Who is Oishi?”
    “Oishi Kuranosuke. My fiancé.” Okaru blushed again.
    Reiko supposed that teahouse girls liked to refer to their customers as fiancés. Maybe they thought it made them sound respectable;