The following evening, Hiromasa dressed for the Empress' incense contest with unusual attention to detail. It still felt strange to have the choice of so many styles and colours of fabric. He chose winter shades, plum pink and the pine-leaf green combination of under-robes beneath his black cloak of raised brocade. Before he put on his new court hat, a servant combed out his hair. It had grown past his shoulders, but could not be trimmed to the socially accepted length until the next auspicious day for haircutting.
The strokes of the comb released the scent of wood-smoke and pine. Hiromasa wanted to catch up the length of his hair, crush it beneath his nose, and remember. Instead he ordered the servant to oil it and gather it up tightly into a topknot.
His retainers accompanied his ox-cart to the palace. Hiromasa walked through the long galleries towards the gardens where the contest was to take place. A group of gentlemen greeted him, falling into step alongside him and making pointed enquiries as to his recent whereabouts.
"His Excellency missed you, Lord Hiromasa," one gentleman said. "And His Majesty asked several times when you would be back at court. It seems he forgot where you went, and since you gave no direction or indication of when you'd return, His Majesty has been quite concerned."
"I went to the summer estate of Lord Seimei."
"That branch of the Abe family does not have a summer estate," the gentleman said. "Besides, I heard you were visiting a shrine."
Hiromasa blushed. Seimei was right: He was a terrible liar. He resisted the urge to hide behind his fan or fiddle with his sleeve. "I did both. I visited the shrine on the way to the estate owned by Lord Seimei."
The gentlemen exchanged glances, raising their eyebrows and smiling at one another. Clearly, they didn't believe him.
"A certain lady will be glad of your return to court," another gentleman said, his look as sly as his words. "I hear she missed you grievously, despite the fact she took Lord Kotoku to her bed not long after you left." The gentleman paused for effect and shrugged. "Women are faithless creatures. Why, 'tis better to find another kind of creature to satisfy your desires. I hear foxes are remarkably loyal animals…"
Hiromasa stopped in mid-stride. Controlling the outrage seething inside him, he began, "Sir, what do you know of loyalty? What do you know of foxes, for that matter?"
"They scream at night," a third gentleman said. All three courtiers flapped open their fans, put their heads together, and giggled.
Speechless, Hiromasa stared at them, unable to offer a single word in Seimei's defence. His helplessness angered him, and he put a hand on the hilt of his sword.
Before the courtiers could react to the implied threat, Seimei appeared around the corner of the gallery. His expression was blank and his tone coldly courteous when he said, "Be careful, gentlemen. Foxes don't just scream. They also bite."
The courtiers quailed. When Seimei raised his right hand, they stammered excuses and fled in the direction from which they'd come.
Hiromasa exhaled. He still gripped his sword-hilt, more from shame now than anger. He watched as Seimei adjusted the sleeves of his formal cloak of white figured silk. Beneath it he wore robes of burnt orange, white, and plum, a combination Hiromasa had never liked. He wondered briefly if Seimei had chosen those colours for that very reason before he dismissed the notion as ridiculous.
Seimei sighed. "It will be a long evening."
"Incense contests are usually quite tedious events," Hiromasa agreed. "This is the first one I've attended in years. Last time I fell asleep before the third scent was presented. It was…"
He faltered as Seimei came towards him. The bruises had gone from his throat. The circle of bites Hiromasa had given him had faded completely. Hiromasa stared at the pale, tender skin above the muted colours of silk and felt the sting of rejection.
Seimei met his startled gaze. "I heal quickly."
Hiromasa looked away. "Of course."
"Would you prefer it if I wore the marks of your possession?"
"Yes." Hiromasa stopped himself and shook his head, confusion filling him. "No. It wouldn't be considered acceptable. They already talk of you with such scorn."
"They are ignorant. They fear the unusual." Seimei took something wrapped in pale blue Chinese paper from within his cloak. He untied the twist that held the paper closed. "They would scorn this, too, if you told them what it was and what it did."
A blackened, crumbling ball of incense rested in his palm. Hiromasa took a step backwards. "The spirit-summoning incense? But Seimei – isn't it dangerous to bring it here?"
"It is a risk worth taking." He smiled, smoothing the paper around the burnt incense. Sparkles of grey dust clung to his fingertips. "If it turns out I am wrong about Nose's intentions, perhaps this fragrance will be of use as a distraction." Seimei tossed the wrapped ball at him. "You take it."
"Me?" Hiromasa caught it reflexively. Conscious of the power contained within it, he juggled it from one hand to the other; afraid of what might happen. When Seimei gave a gentle laugh, Hiromasa grumbled and shoved the spirit-summoning incense inside his cloak.
The chatter of conversation sounded behind them. Seimei inclined his head, indicating they should move, and together they continued around the corner of the gallery, crossed a wide courtyard and entered a garden.
Torches lit the path to a pavilion, open on all sides to the night air. Screens had been erected to shelter the Emperor and Empress from malign influences or more mundane chills. The Emperor huddled behind his curtains in silence, but the Empress stood outside of her enclosure, directing her ladies-in-waiting and a couple of gentlemen as they scurried to and fro along the banks of the stream.
Winter Moon was amongst them, lifting an earthenware jar from a freshly dug hole. Hiromasa watched as she brushed the loose soil from it and prised open the lid. Her face lit with excitement as she looked inside at the ripened ball of incense. He swallowed a sour taste as he wondered which scent the jar held: the one for the contest, or the one designed to make him fall in love with her.
"As I predicted, it's the ideal night for an incense contest," Seimei remarked, distracting Hiromasa's attention from his mistress. "Cold and still, with just enough of a breeze to stir the air and dissipate the scents afterwards."
Hiromasa gave him a sidelong look. Seimei almost sounded enthusiastic. He was diverted from making a reply by a shriek from one of the women. Glancing towards the stream, he saw a gentleman holding up a kicking, croaking toad. The ladies-in-waiting all abandoned the holes they'd been digging and clustered together, squealing at the muddy creature brandished by the gentleman.
Beside him, Seimei whispered a few words. The gentleman suddenly toppled into the stream as if pushed. He yelped and floundered while the women cried in dismay and then began to giggle. The gentleman dragged himself from the water. His humiliation evident, he slunk away accompanied by the merriment of the ladies and the croaking of the escaped toad.
Hiromasa bit his lip to stop his laughter. "Seimei…"
Seimei gave him an innocent look.
Their appearance had been noted. From behind his curtain, the Emperor called a greeting. Hiromasa bowed in response. When he straightened up, he saw the Chancellor frowning past him at Seimei. Hiromasa wondered if His Excellency remembered his comment on the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival. Yin yang masters didn't belong at social gatherings, he'd said. Hiromasa readied himself to argue for Seimei's inclusion in the night's events.
Before the Chancellor could speak, his daughter the Empress stepped forward with a smile. Delight shone from her pretty face. "Ah, Lord Hiromasa! I'm so glad Winter Moon persuaded you to come tonight. Your refined taste in all things is well known. You must sit with my ladies and advise us while we debate the merits of each incense."
Hiromasa bowed again. "Certainly, Your Highness. It would be my pleasure."
She gave a sparkling laugh. "Come, Lord Hiromasa, sit here and be welcome." She indicated a long mat spread along one side of the pavilion near her enclosure, where a number of court women already knelt with their jars of incense.
"Thank you, Your Highness."
The Empress smiled in approval as he approached. Her eyes widened and her smile slipped when she noticed Seimei, but she soon recovered her poise. "Lord Seimei is welcome too, of course," she added. A blush rose to her face and she lowered her gaze in embarrassment.
Hiromasa felt an answering tide of heat. Did everyone know about him and Seimei? Glancing around, he saw the speculative looks, the amusement and disdain. His gaze fell again on Winter Moon. Pointedly, she glanced away from him and clung to the sleeve of Lord Kotoku. She simpered and giggled at something he said, then shot Hiromasa a look that seemed to taunt him.
"Are you jealous?" Seimei murmured in his ear.
"No." Hiromasa stumbled over the word, his body responding to the ticklish purr in Seimei's voice. Desperate to control himself, Hiromasa stepped away. "Let's join Her Majesty's ladies. Please attempt to be charming, Seimei."
A snort greeted this remark. When Hiromasa glanced at him in warning, Seimei gave him a bright, superficial smile.
They knelt on the mat. Two women engaged Hiromasa in flirtatious conversation. More guests arrived. Servants poured sake and offered delicacies. He accepted a morsel of fish and found himself longing for the more substantial, sinful meat of a deer. He glanced towards Seimei and saw him conversing with one of the ladies-in-waiting. She whispered something from behind her fan, and Seimei laughed.
The fish turned to ash on his tongue. Hiromasa took a gulp of sake to swallow it and motioned for another drink. He heard Seimei laugh a second time. His hand tightened on the cup. He would not be jealous over such a trifling incident. The emotion was unbecoming as well as hypocritical.
He looked over again. Seimei and the lady had their heads close together, obviously sharing secrets. Hiromasa turned away. The sake tasted sharp and acidic, but he drank it anyway. He gave his attention to the women beside him, praising their wit and beauty in extravagant terms. They fluttered him coy looks and smiled at him with ripe promise, but Hiromasa could think only of Seimei. When the contest ended, he would take Seimei to his quarters within the palace and tear off those ugly formal silks. He would ring his pale throat with love-bites, marking him, claiming him as they moved together in hot, frantic lust. He would…
"Lord Hiromasa?"
He blinked, startled out of his thoughts. The woman closest to him was peering at him with concern. She gave him an uncertain smile. "His Excellency spoke to you."
Horrified by his lapse, Hiromasa summoned the appearance of eager attention. "Yes, my lord?"
The Chancellor gave him a suspicious look. "We were talking of music. Her Highness wishes for some graceful tunes while the contest is judged. Your name was mentioned. Would you oblige us?"
Hiromasa squirmed at being singled out. "I couldn't possibly. My skill is too poor." He poured more sake and buried his nose in his cup.
"Nonsense!" The Chancellor chuckled, a wicked glint in his eyes as his gaze lingered over their small group. "Perhaps Lord Seimei would give us his opinion on your skill at playing the flute."
Hiromasa choked on his drink.
"Lord Hiromasa's talent is extraordinary." Seimei turned to face the company, his beatific smile never wavering. "His fingering is exquisite."
The cup fell from Hiromasa's hand. He whimpered and shook his head.
Seimei arched his eyebrows and pursed his lips, somehow managing to look innocent and sorrowful at the same time. "Ah, Hiromasa. Don't you remember? You played for me all the time at my summer estate."
The Chancellor's moustache twitched, but he managed to control himself. Assuming a casual, interested expression, he asked, "Lord Seimei, tell me: Do wild animals – foxes, for example – do they like music? One would imagine they have no appreciation of tone or melody."
"I believe it's the rhythm of a piece that interests them most."
A chorus of scandalised giggles broke out around them. The Empress lifted her fan, hiding her reaction behind it. The Chancellor shook with silent laughter. The gentlemen chortled and nudged one another.
Embarrassment flooded through him. "Seimei!" Hiromasa hissed, twisting with remorse and shame. "You're making things worse!"
Seimei held his gaze for a long moment, the polite smile wiped from his face. In his eyes Hiromasa read resignation and a flicker of sadness. Too late, Hiromasa realised that his lover had been testing him – and he'd just failed.
His expression blank, Seimei stood. He bowed briefly towards the imperial couple and the Chancellor and murmured, "Excuse me." Gathering his sleeves in his hands, he walked away into the darkness of the garden.
"Seimei…" Hiromasa lurched to his feet, unease and fear turning his stomach. The ladies seated beside him tugged at his brocades, pulling him back down.
"Don't," one of the women whispered. "It's what he wants."
Hiromasa stared after Seimei. It's what I want, too, he wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat. He was too conscious of everyone watching him, waiting for a further reaction. Ashamed of his cowardice, he hung his head and swallowed his emotions.
A sigh seemed to ripple through the company. Behind his curtains, the Emperor stirred and raised his voice in querulous complaint. "Can we get on with the contest now? It's very cold."
"Yes, Your Majesty. Exactly what I was about to suggest." The Chancellor sounded relieved. He clapped his hands to summon the servants. "Let the contest begin!"
