Moe looked at the pictures with repulsion, for they showed exactly what she was so afraid of: the uncomfortable and embarrassing positions, the taking, the intrusion. She feared the outcome, too, though she knew it was what everyone expected of her, the only thing they expected. She had a deep dread of childbirth and a premonition that she would die of it.

Chiyo had her own ideas of where the problem might lie. She saw in Moe a woman completely unawakened, unaware of the pleasure centers of her own body, too inhibited and too selfish to discover her husband’s. It distressed her personally on behalf of the young man she had raised from infancy, and she was also aware of the political implications, which could be disastrous for the whole clan.

She brewed a tea that had a very strong narcotic effect, both soporific and hallucinatory. She persuaded Moe to drink it, and when it had taken effect and the girl was almost asleep, thrust her fingers up between her legs and realized the hymen was still unbroken. Even in her drugged state, the touch was enough to arouse panic in Moe. Her muscles clenched and went rigid; she cried out in fear. “Don’t hurt me-oh please, don’t hurt me.”

Chiyo tried to calm her by stroking and caressing her, but there was no natural flow of wetness. She had thought to break the hymen herself, but the membrane seemed unusually resistant, and even the use of a smooth, oiled wooden phallus could not penetrate.

Moe had no clear memories afterward, just an obscure sense of violation and abuse. She began to believe that a demon had come in the night and lain with her, and her fears increased-that she had been unfaithful to her husband and would bear a goblin child as a result; everyone would see her shame. She trembled when Chiyo came near her and was reluctant to take food or drink prepared by her. Lady Otori despised Moe all the more and bullied her more, too.

It was with mixed feelings that Moe heard the news of Shigeru’s imminent return. She had enjoyed the respite of his absence, especially knowing that he was also absent from Akane, but she was deeply unhappy and was intelligent enough to realize that her only hope of happiness lay in a reconciliation with her husband.

Her mother-in-law swept into her room that evening with the same idea in mind.

“You must look your best for him. He will come straight to you. You must do whatever he wants, and above all, please him.”

Chiyo took Moe to the bathhouse and scrubbed her skin with bran; after the bath she rubbed lotions all over her body; the scent of jasmine filled Moe’s nostrils, making her head swim. Her hair was combed carefully and left loose so it fell around her. She was dressed in night robes of silk. The attention flattered her, and as she sat waiting for him, she felt for the first time a pleasant ache between her legs and a flutter of excitement in her belly. She sipped a little wine and felt the blood pulse in her veins.

It is going to be all right, she thought. I will not be afraid of him. I won’t hate him anymore. I must love him. I must desire him.

Night fell; the hours passed and Shigeru did not come. Finally she said to Chiyo, “He must have been delayed on the road.”

At that moment, from the adjoining room they heard Takeshi’s voice, greeting his mother.

Moe did not move for several moments. Then she picked up the wine flask and flung it across the room. It hit a painted screen and did not break but spilled the wine in one ugly splash across the deep pink flowers.

“He has gone to Akane,” she said.

AKANE, WHEN SHE realized Shigeru had come straight to her before even going to the castle, was jubilant. The sight of him, dusty and travel-stained, his smile when he greeted her, swept away most of her anxiety. She made a great fuss over him, pretending to be horrified at how dirty he was, scolding and teasing him, then going herself to the bathhouse to help the maid scrub his back. She washed every part of his body, thinking with anticipation of how she would feel him against her soon-but not too soon. She wanted to delay the moment, feeling her own skin tingle and her muscles soften with the languor of desire. It was a little over a year since the first time they had made love, when he had returned, like tonight, from the eastern borders. She ordered the same food to be prepared: cool, glutinous, juice-filled. Night fell and she called for the lamps to be lit, hardly taking her eyes off him as he ate and drank. He had changed from boy to man in that year. I changed him, she thought. I taught him how to be a man.

After they had retired and had satisfied their desire with passion, she lay against him. “Now you will stay in Hagi till spring,” she said contentedly.

“I will spend the winter here. But before that, I have another journey to make.”

“You are cruel!” Akane said, only half pretending. “Where are you going?”

“I will take Takeshi to Terayama. He can spend a year there. He wants to study the sword with Matsuda, and the discipline will be good for him.”

“He is very young-you were fifteen, were you not?”

“He turns fourteen in the new year. I have other reasons too. I think we will be at war next year. If my brother is at the temple, he will not be able to run away and fight.”

“He would do that,” Akane said. “Lord Takeshi is bolder than men twice his age.”

“He should learn to fight properly-and grow to his full stature.” Shigeru paused and then went on. “I am also escorting my wife to her parents’ house in Kushimoto. She has not yet made her formal visit home.”

“Your wife is traveling with you?” Akane felt the stab of jealousy, thinking of the days and nights they would spend together on the road.

“You know I must have children-so I must sleep with my wife. Travel, getting away from a place she obviously dislikes, may make her care more for me. I’m sorry if it makes you jealous, Akane, but you have to accept the situation.”

“I would give you children,” Akane said, unable to stop the words, though she knew it was foolish even to think them.

“You give me cause for jealousy too. Kiyoshige told me about Hayato,” Shigeru said. “They say you interceded with my uncle for his children’s lives.”

“I would have appealed to you, if you had been here. I hope it does not offend you.”

“I was surprised my uncle was swayed by you. It made me wonder what he had demanded in return.”

“Nothing,” she said hastily. “I believe he welcomed the chance to demonstrate his compassion. He was drunk when he had Hayato killed. In the morning he regretted his hastiness and wanted to make amends.”

“It does not sound like my uncle,” Shigeru said quietly. He moved away from her, rose, and began to dress.

“Will you not stay?” she said.

“No. I can’t tonight. I must see my parents in the morning, and my wife, and start making arrangements for the journey.”

“But I will see you before you go?” She heard the note of pleading in her own voice at the same time as disappointment and despair sprang into her heart. I am in such danger, she thought. I am falling in love with him. Immediately she feigned indifference. “But of course, you will be very busy. Very well, I will await your return.”

“I will come again tomorrow night,” he said.

After he had gone and the sound of the horses had died away, she lay listening to the sea and the wind in the pines, berating herself for her stupidity. She feared loving him, the pain it would cause her: she feared losing him, to his wife or in battle-why had he spoken of war?-or because of her pact with Masahiro.

He came as he had promised the following night and talked a little more about his journey, planning to leave the next day while the weather was still fine. She tried to hide her feelings and devote herself purely to pleasing him, but the meeting left her unusually restless and dissatisfied.