Kaya's saucy walk ended the second she reached the other side of the screen. She doubled over, hands on knees, and let out a long breath.

Sasaki was on to her. Even if the wedding went smoothly, he would be watching her for all the days to come. For how long could she dance on the edge of myth and truth?

"Lady Kaya?" The voice was sweet and childlike.

Kaya straightened--and froze.

Gliding toward her in full bridal regalia was the prince's fiancee.

Lady Reika wore a jeweled headdress with a long white veil and twelve silk robes in splendid layers of colors. The embroidered train extended behind her, as did her floor-length, shimmering black hair.

Reika had been groomed from birth to marry the crown prince. Now sixteen, she fully looked the part.

The rest of her might be a problem.

"It is you, isn't it?" Reika asked worriedly. "I'm sorry, I can't see very--"

She stumbled and pitched forward. Kaya rushed to grab her. Propping up the tiny girl with one arm, she caught the tipping headdress with the other. Goodness, the outfit weighed at least fifty pounds!

She returned Reika to a standing position--whereupon the girl threw her arms around her.

"I knew it was you!" she cried. "No one is stronger than Lady Kaya."

A husky voice called out from the back of the room. "I resent that."

Prince Takamitsu crawled out from under a side table and waved cheerfully. Kaya rubbed her forehead, already feeling a headache coming on.

Minutes before his wedding, the future emperor was still in his nightclothes: a plain white silk robe tucked into wide-legged crimson trousers. Dust smudged his cheeks and clung to his hair.

Even in this messy state, Takamitsu was beautiful to behold. The courtiers had nicknamed him the white deer for good reason. At sixteen, he was slender, graceful, and mystical somehow, as though he'd descended from the heavens. At court, he easily commanded an audience two and three times his age.

Now leaping to his feet, he held a jeweled trinket high in the air. "Found it!"

Reika let go of Kaya and clapped appreciatively.

Bounding to Reika's side, Takamitsu knelt and offered up the gem. "For my bride."

Reika giggled and reached blindly in the wrong direction. With a sigh, Kaya led the girl's hand toward Takamitsu's. Cue more giggling and blushing.

Forget the courtiers, Kaya thought. These children frighten me more with their innocence than any adult with their sin.

If they could smile like this, it was because they did not know what lay beyond the day of their marriage.

She'd thought she'd have more time to break the news gently. Answer questions, wipe their tears. Curse Sasaki for springing this on her in the middle of the night.

Sasaki. If she didn't hurry, he'd surely come in to get them--and see what no one must ever see.

She clapped her hands. "All right, you two."

They hushed instantly. Takamitsu stood up straighter. "My lady Kaya," he intoned in his impressive court voice. The side of his mouth quirked up.

Kaya rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that. I thought I told you that you couldn't be alone with her until after you were married. The court has to believe the bride is a virgin."

"We weren't doing anything," Reika said in a small voice.

"It's not what you're doing," she explained patiently. "It's what people think you're doing. Because at court, those are the same thing."

Takamitsu explained, "If they think the bride isn't a virgin, the marriage isn't legitimate. Which means if the couple has an heir, he's not legitimate.

"Which means the heir and possibly the whole family fall from power.

"Which means..." he sighed heavily. "Civil war between rival clans and the suffering of the people."

Kaya nodded approvingly. When it came down to it, Takamitsu knew where he stood. Reika, though--how had she stayed so sheltered for this long?

Reika moved to perch on a nearby table, settling down with a cute sigh. "If you don't want to give the wrong impression," she said sweetly, "why have you clung to Takamitsu for so long? He's of age, isn't he?"

Well, that was a relief. Kaya preferred people who kept their claws out where she could see them.

Takamitsu had opened his mouth to speak, but Kaya held up a hand.

"I suppose you know that Lady Sumire asked me to look after him before she died. That's not your question, though. You want to know why I cling to him."

Walking behind Takamitsu, she rested her hands on his shoulders. "Why I'm the only one who's allowed to touch the crown prince."

At this, Reika lifted off her headdress and set it on her lap. "Yes, I would," she said primly. Her pretty powdered face was all smiles, but her eyes were sharp.

Kaya addressed Takamitsu. "Perhaps she's right. Why don't I step aside and allow your fiancee to dress you?"

It was unorthodox, to be sure, but nothing else about this night was normal.

But the prince shied away as if she'd burned him. "I d-d-don't really think that's necessary."

He was blushing. The mischievous prince she'd known since he wet his bedclothes was actually blushing.

The sight struck her like a gong.

"Takamitsu," she said suspiciously, "you're going to marry this girl. Haven't you told her the truth about you?"

The prince turned a crazed, wide-eyed look at her, like a caged animal.

Then he bolted from the room.

* * *

On her deathbed, Lady Sumire had stroked her son's head and gazed at him fondly. "You must marry Reika someday, Taka. But don't worry, you can take lovers."

Takamitsu opened his eyes wide. Even at five, he knew how much the emperor's lovers saddened his mother.

"Don't worry," he said, squeezing her hand. "I'll only love Reika-chan."

"Oh, child." Lady Sumire had tears in her eyes. "Loving her will only bring you sorrow."

Then she'd turned to Kaya with a sad smile.

Kaya swallowed. She would do anything for Lady Sumire. When Kaya had turned thirteen, a certain man in a high position forced himself on her in the night. When she sobbed, he told her she should be flattered. In the morning he sent a dirty poem and a branch of cherry blossoms.

He came to her bed again. This time she'd rubbed her nether parts in hot peppers. It burned her, but oh, did it burn him worse. That night, he tied her to a pillar and took her anyway.

THe next day, her father lost his position at court. Courtiers shunned them; her mother begged her to apologize. Just bear with it, dear. You'll get used to it. And he'll lose interest soon enough.

Kaya started sleeping in the garden, in a bank of violets near a stream. That was where Lady Sumire found her on her nightly walk.

What that man did is not acceptable, she'd said.

She took Kaya on as the attendant to the crown prince: a position that gave her some say over who she accepted into her company.

But it was Lady Sumire's words that Kaya remembered even now. High rank wasn't just a pretty title. It was a position you could use to make the world the way it ought to be. The world you wanted children like Takamitsu to live in.

"You don't need to ask," Kaya put in quickly. "I'll protect the prince."

Lady Sumire smiled. "I know that, dear. I only wanted to tell you ... don't forget to live."

* * *

Where had the prince gone? Kaya had rushed as quickly as her robes allowed, but he had already vanished. The maze of palace corridors stretched endlessly ahead.

Behind her, footfalls thundered. Sasaki ran like a black stag, strong limbs pumping and black robes flowing behind him.

Kaya allowed herself a moment of appreciation. Such a beautiful man. Too bad he was such a stick-in-the-mud.

She smiled at him warmly when he caught up. "Lord Sasaki, good timing. Does your magic or whatever work for finding people? I seem to have misplaced our prince."

"You--" he managed, breathing hard.

"No, I'm right here," she said patiently. "I'm looking for his highness."

Despite her light tone, her hands were shaking. She quickly put them behind her and took a deep breath. "I can't call a search, though, because ..."

Because I don't know what Takamitsu's going to look like when we find him. I don't know if he'll be alive when we find him. Gods help me, how did I not see he was a teenager in love?

Sasaki reached into his robes. Pulling out a square of embroidered silk, he held it out to her.

She realized dimly that her cheeks were wet. Taking the ridiculously fancy cloth, she blotted her cheeks. "So sorry," she mumbled. "I seem to be leaking."

"I have another you if need it," he said gently.

When was the last time someone spoke so soothingly to her? Kaya remembered her mother brushing her hair back from her forehead when she had a fever. She'd done the same for Takamitsu years later. Her tears fell faster.

"You--you can't be so kind to me," she said between sobs. "It undoes me completely."

Sasaki quietly took the kerchief from her and pressed another into her hand. When she looked up, he was studying the wet kerchief with interest.

"May I touch your hand?" he asked.

Baffled, she held out her right hand. He brought his under hers and rested his fingertips on the base of her palm. The light touch sent sparks skittering across her skin.

Meanwhile, he stared at the kerchief in his other hand, his silver brows drawn. After a long moment, his eyes met hers.

"Cherry blossoms," he said.

She flinched and yanked her hand away. Sasaki gave her a curious look. She shook her head with a wry smile. "Allergies."

He tucked the kerchief into his robe and strode past her down the corridor. If he'd seen cherry blossoms, he must be headed to the courtyard.

She caught up quickly. "I'm surprised you're willing to help a scheming kitsune."

"What kitsune?"

"Oh, come on. Even I knew that you were looking into me."

They turned the corner. A night breeze blew down the corridor, bringing the scent of snow. Before them, the open doorway framed a cloud of moonlit flowers.

Sasaki stopped here to look back at her.

"Do you know about the mother quail? She pretends to hurt so that the wolf will chase her instead of her children."

Kaya shook her head, baffled.

"Kaya."

Not Lady Kaya or my lady, but just Kaya. The unexpected intimacy took her breath.

Which was why his next words, cool and clinical, fell like a blow.

"You pretended to be a kitsune. What was it you didn't want people to see?"