19

He leaned against the east railing and as the color of evening came over the sky gazed at the flower beds before the empress's apartments. Lost again in sad thoughts, he whispered to himself: “The autumn skies are the cruelest of all.” +

There was a rustling of silk as the woman who had answered his poem slipped inside the main hall.

Niou had come up beside him. “Who was that?”

“Chu~jo~,” replied a second woman. “She is with your royal sister.

She should not have said it, thought Kaoru. Ladies were not supposed to offer up the names of other ladies in response to any chance question. And along with distaste at this impropriety he felt a twinge of jealousy. Niou's presence seemed to offer no cause for shyness. Niou was so impetuous, so direct—no doubt he swept them all before him. Kaoru's own friendship with the prince had brought mainly sorrow. He played with the possibility of reprisal. If Niou was after one of these beauties, then there might be ways to make him sip of his own medicine. Women of true discernment should prefer Kaoru to Niou—but where were they? His thoughts moved to Nakanokimi and the unhappiness Niou's various activities had brought. Yet she kept up the appearances demanded of her as Niou's wife. Kaoru thought it all very touching, and very admirable too. Would there be such women here? No frequenter of the women's quarters, he did not know. He might have enjoyed a try at nocturnal wandering himself, to beguile the long, sleepless hours; but such adventures were alien to his nature.