“Yes, tell us!” Mariko chimes in. “Was he gentle with you? Or did he want it rough?”
Aoki’s cheeks grow splotchy, her freckles disappearing under the pink. “It’s—it’s private,” she stammers. She tucks her chin, a lock of auburn hair falling across her face.
“Private?” Blue regards her through squinted eyes. “Don’t you remember what Mistress Eira told us? There’s no such thing as private when it comes to being a Paper Girl.” And though I could be imagining it, I detect a note of bitterness in her voice.
“Ignore them,” I say, and tug on Aoki’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.” My eyes meet Wren’s. Before I can question what I’m doing, I march past the other girls toward her, pulling Aoki with me. “Could you send Master Tekoa our apologies for missing his lesson?” I ask her in a low voice. “Say there’s been a… female emergency.”
Though Wren’s eyebrows knit just a fraction, she gives a curt nod. “Sure.”
“Thank you,” I say.
She shrugs. “It’s nothing,” she says, even though it’s not. If Master Tekoa decides to inquire into our absence, he’ll know Wren lied to him. She’d be punished along with Aoki and me. But I’m counting on the fact that the notion of a female emergency will be too embarrassing for him to press further. Master Tekoa is our only male teacher. The King gives him special permission to come into Women’s Court because Madam Himura insists, claiming he’s the best qi arts practitioner in the whole palace.
The rest of the girls are still watching us, most looking apprehensive. Chenna and the twins get on well with Aoki, and unlike me, they must know what she’s going through. All the girls were sullen the day after their first night with the King—even Mariko and Blue, though I’m sure they wouldn’t admit it now.
With a pointed look in Blue’s direction, as though defying her to intervene, Chenna comes over to us. “I cried all night after the first time,” she says, bending to clasp Aoki’s shoulders.
Aoki blinks, looking up with a sniff. “Really?”
Chenna nods. “It wasn’t easy for me, either.”
Over her head, Wren turns to me. “It’s all right, Lei,” she says. “Go.”
As her eyes meet mine, a spark of heat stirs in my chest. It takes me a moment to realize it’s the first time she’s spoken my name. My single syllable is surprisingly soft on her tongue, light, like a drop of rain. I think of her in the gardens last night, lit by moonlight. What she might have left Paper House for. Not just what—who?
And more: why do I care so much?
I break her gaze and mutter a thanks, quickly leading Aoki away.
The two of us find a secluded veranda at the back of a nearby teahouse to wait out the lesson. It overlooks a rock garden, an old gardener in a wide-brimmed straw hat sweeping the stones with a rake. She doesn’t look up as we kneel side by side on the edge of the porch, and the rhythm of her rake is comforting, a steady scrape that plays under the soundtrack of the teahouse, the chirp of birds in nearby trees.
“You don’t need to tell me about it,” I say into Aoki’s silence. She’s still avoiding my gaze, staring down where she’s playing with the sash at her waist. “I just thought you could use some time away from the others.”
She nods. Tears spring to her eyes. She swipes them away with her sleeve and mumbles thickly, “It’s stupid. It had to happen at some point, and it’s not like I didn’t want it to. I did. I mean, he’s the King. But…” Her voice wavers. “I never guessed it would feel like this.”
I lace my arm round her shoulder. “It was your first time, Aoki. It was bound to affect you. I guess that’s why we’re meant to wait until marriage,” I say, trying to sound like I know what I’m talking about. “So we are sure of the other person. So we’re sure of ourselves.”
Aoki sniffs. “I overheard one of my older sisters talking about it with her friend once. My parents were arranging for her to marry this boy from the neighboring village, and she met with him in secret one night before the deal was final.” She tucks her hair behind one ear and shoots me a wobbly smile. “They did… things. Not everything. But enough that I knew she’d be in serious trouble if my parents found out. But she told my parents the next day that she was happy to marry him.” Her smile disappears. “It must have been a good night,” she adds, muted. Then, even quieter, “I was so scared.”
I gather her to me, something hot flaring to life in my chest. How dare he scare her. Even though I haven’t seen him since the Unveiling Ceremony, I can still picture the King’s handsome face clearly.
I imagine punching it.
Rubbing her nose with one hand, Aoki looks up at me from under tear-wet lashes. “Are you scared? For when it’s your turn?”
Something in the tone of her voice sends a prickle down my spine. “Should I be?”
Aoki turns to the garden with unfocused eyes. “There was this boy in my village,” she starts. “Jun. He worked on the paddy fields, too. We didn’t talk much, but every time I saw him—any time I was near him—my whole body got all hot and I’d be so nervous I could never think what to say. He’d be smiling and I’d just be blushing like an idiot. Each look he gave me was like… like sunlight sweeping over me.” Her voice falters, and tears trace wet paths down her cheeks. Still twisting the sash in her fingers, she murmurs, “I—I thought it would be like that with the King.”
“Maybe you’ll feel that way next time,” I try, swiping her tears away with my fingertips. “Maybe with some people it just takes time.”
“Maybe,” she agrees.
But I can tell she doesn’t believe it.
For the rest of the day, Aoki is sullen. I didn’t realize how much I depended on her happy chatter, for her bubbly mood to lift my own. I try to cheer her up, whispering jokes when our teachers’ backs are turned and stealing for her sugared hopia pastries filled with peanut paste, one of her favorite sweets. But she says she isn’t hungry.
This, coming from a girl who can usually eat ten of these in one sitting and still have room for more.
As if mirroring Aoki’s mood, the weather turns over the course of the day. Heavy clouds roll in, so low I could jump up and touch them. We rush back from our last lesson, making it to Paper House just as it starts to pour.
I bump into Chenna on my way to the toilet. She gives me a nod as she passes, but I touch her shoulder to stop her. “Thank you,” I say. “For earlier.”
She gives me her usual half smile. “It’s all right. I have a little cousin back home. Aoki really reminds me of her. I know she’s sixteen, but she seems so much younger sometimes.”
I nod. “If only Blue and Mariko could leave her alone.”
“Like they do the rest of us?”
Chenna’s face is straight, so it takes me a moment to catch her joke. I let out a laugh. “You’re right. I shouldn’t hold my breath.”
“Anyway,” she says, “Mariko’s actually pretty nice when she’s not around Blue. And I wouldn’t care too much what Blue says.” She looks like she’s about to say something more, so I lean forward, brow furrowing.