I knew I’d been right to come between her and Mamoru.
“Aiko,” Mamoru said. “I can assure you, we don’t know what—”
“When I was little, the prince passed through my town,” Aiko insisted. “I’ve seen him before. So’ve some of the others; it’s just that I’m the only one who recognizes you.”
Mamoru reached out to grip the back of my shirt and I let him, preparing myself—though for what, I couldn’t be sure. It was possible Aiko had already notified the authorities, close as we were to the border crossing. It was possible they were already waiting for us just downstairs.
I would die there before I let them take Mamoru, I thought, and set my jaw.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Aiko snapped. “What are you even thinking? I’m telling you…” She trailed off for a moment, as though she’d only just realized the weight of her accusation. Whether or not she’d always known she was standing before a prince, speaking the words made them all the more real. With a stifled, uncomfortable sound, she dropped to her knees and held something up: a soft leather wallet, heavy with coins. “I’m telling you to take this,” she finished, eyes cast to the floor. “That’s what I’m telling you.”
It took both of us too long to understand what it was she was saying; then, before I could do anything at all, Mamoru had stepped out from behind me to kneel on the hard floor of the inn. I found that I could not breathe, and the expression that came over Aiko’s face indicated she felt much the same way as I did.
“Stand up,” she said, a little too roughly. “We all want you to get away. But not like this.”
“I don’t understand,” Mamoru said. I would have gone forward then and pulled him to his feet, but I was frozen where I was—as though I was a member of the audience, watching a play I could not join. That wasn’t my cue; it wasn’t even my scene.
“Why do you think idiots like Goro write these plays?” Aiko said, her brow furrowing. She was very beautiful in that moment—more beautiful than any of the court ladies, none of whom had such fine, clear eyes—torn as she was between laughter and complete disbelief. Most felt that way when faced with Mamoru in all his finery; and he was at his finest then, kneeling before a common stagehand. His brother would never have done such a thing.
That was why his people loved him. His kindness was unmistakable, and his concern for his people was one not shared by his brother. The Ke-Han people had made him into a hero simply because to them he was one. They saw Mamoru as I did. Mamoru himself seemed oblivious to such admiration, but that made him seem all the more worthy of it.
“I didn’t think,” Mamoru said, and cut off, shaking his head. “Because it’s a good story?”
“Why not write it about the Emperor?” Aiko said. “Take the money. Don’t be stubborn.”
“Whose money is it?” Mamoru asked. “Is it yours?”
“Maybe,” Aiko said. “Maybe not. We’re making good coin off your story tonight. You deserve a cut. Take it and get out of here. All due respect,” she added, glancing up to me. “Your…”
“Don’t say it,” I managed, my voice grinding out hoarsely. “He—it’s difficult as it stands not to—”
“What my… What my husband means to say,” Mamoru said, with far more delicacy than I could have managed, given the circumstances, “is that perhaps, especially given the material of the play, we shouldn’t speak of things that may cause the gods to believe we’ve become carried away with our own luck.”
Aiko nodded, and I could see the conflict warring in her face, the sharp downturn of her brow. I recognized that look from one I’d worn constantly—a mixture of pride and exasperation.
My lord, it seemed, brought such emotions out in people.
“Take the money,” she said finally, laying the bag on the floor between her and Mamoru. “Please. Think of it as a gift.”
It was very difficult for me to keep still, but I held my tongue. Something told me, perhaps my intuition, that it was Mamoru’s decision to make, and that I would be doing him no favors by stepping in to influence him.
“You must allow your people,” she said, raising her head, “to do something for you beyond putting on a play.”
My lord shook his head, and spoke so quietly that for a moment I was sure only