Chapter 27

27

The next morning, I wake to my phone thrashing about on my nightstand. I stretch and grab it. There is a slew of text messages from Noora and the girls. The last says: Are you okay? An article is attached. I click it open. Headlines flash before my eyes, words burning an imprint.

HIH Princess Izumi.

Affair.

Imperial guard.

My hand flies to my mouth. It’s all very tawdry. Very salacious. Akio is the villain. I am the American upstart. Even worse are the photos—from the karaoke bar, outside the restaurant in Kyoto, the hospital, and, finally, from the emperor’s birthday. Those photos are fuzzy, as if taken from far away. The angle tells me they were snapped from the doorway. Someone was spying on us.

Pieces click into place. Palace insider. You don’t belong here.

The Shining Twins.

They must have orchestrated this, and have probably had me followed this whole time. I played along, practically handing them the story that would be my own downfall.

Immediately, I think of Akio. The thought that he might be hurting is more than I can bear.

I find his phone number and ring it. Disconnected. I text. Call me. It bounces back undelivered. I try again. Same thing. WTF. The sounds of voices carry through the palace. I slip on a robe and wander to the living room. Mr. Fuchigami is there along with Mariko, two other chamberlains, and a gaggle of assorted imperial staff—secretaries, publicists, and guards. No Akio. No Crown Prince.

“Hey,” I say. My voice is a bit shaky. My body, too, for that matter.

The room quiets. Eyes meet mine, then flicker away. I take stock of myself. Wild hair. Bathrobe. Tears fracturing my vision. This is bad. This is Death Star–exploding, Thanos’s Infinity Gauntlet bad.

“Izumi-sama.” Mariko says.

I go to Mr. Fuchigami. “I can’t get hold of Akio.”

Mr. Fuchigami ignores the ringing phone in his hand. “Your Highness, we have much to discuss. Perhaps you should dress for the day. We will sit down and strategize.”

“We’ll have to deny everything,” Mariko says behind me.

Mr. Fuchigami’s smile is placid. “Impossible. The damage is done. We’ll be playing up the Tokyo Tattler article. The princess was taken advantage of.”

“No,” I blurt out, squeeze my hands into fists. “Just … no. Akio. Where is he? I need to speak with him.”

Mr. Fuchigami looks at me, as if he’s surprised I’m still standing here. Didn’t I tell you to go? “Mr. Kobayashi is no longer employed by the Imperial Guard. You will be assigned a new guard who understands their position.”

Fired. Akio’s been fired. This is my fault.

My ears are ringing. It’s hard to think. I might throw up. This looks so bad. What damage have I done? God, I’m mad at myself, but not as furious as others may be with me. “Then, my father? I’d like to speak to him.”

Mr. Fuchigami says, “The Crown Prince is with His Majesty the Emperor. The events from yesterday exhausted your grandfather. I’m afraid they cannot be disturbed from official imperial business. However, your father has been apprised of the events and will see you for dinner this evening.”

My stomach contracts. I’ve never been kicked in the gut, but I’m pretty this is what it would feel like. I don’t want to look at Mr. Fuchigami. I cannot imagine the consequences in the papers. As a member of the imperial family, we’re expected to be beyond reproach, my father had said after the prime minister’s wedding.

“Okay.” My voice cracks. Words are hard to form. Why even bother? I pivot and force myself from the room.

Conversations start up again behind me. I don’t slow down. I find one thread of hope and hang from it. In my closet, I open drawers, pull out leggings and a T-shirt, and slip them on. Mariko appears, blocking me from leaving. “Where are you going?” she asks carefully.

“I need to see Akio.”

“Izumi-sama,” she says, full of pity.

“Let me by.” My legs feel watery. I want to collapse. Curl up in bed until it all goes away. Get it together.

“You can’t go see him.”

“Please call the driver,” I say unsteadily.

Mariko says, “This isn’t wise.”

I swipe under my nose. Tears flow unchecked. “You don’t understand. I need to see him.”

Mariko places a hand on each of my shoulders and squeezes. “If you go to his parents’ house, you will only make it worse. The place is surrounded by paparazzi. The best thing you can do for yourself and for Akio is to let this die down.”

I stand, numb. Mariko makes sense. No reason to add gasoline to the fire. But I don’t want him to think I’ve abandoned him, either. I know what to do. “Will you take him something from me then?” A letter. I’ll write him a letter.

Mariko’s nostrils flare. “Mr. Fuchigami is still here. He has prohibited anyone from entering or leaving the palace.” She twiddles her thumbs in thought. “But I happen to know your cousin Yoshi is in residence and doesn’t have such restrictions. Perhaps you’d like to take a bath? With the window open? There is a lovely breeze right now. Of course, I’ll alert security to clear the area.”

I want to kiss her cheeks. I find a smile instead. It’s bittersweet. “A bath does sound good. Would you mind getting my running shoes and some paper? You know how I usually like to bathe with those items.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Mariko says, ever so wisely. “Might I also suggest a sweatshirt with a hood? Something dark that blends well with the trees on the properties? I think I know the perfect one. Very trendy for spring and secret romps through the forest.”