Free The Shogun's Daughter by Laura Joh Rowland Page A

someone who cared about him. He cursed himself for craving more from Yoshisato than Yoshisato was willing or able to give. “So why can’t we be friends? It would make things easier for both of us.”
    “Excuse me for not feeling particularly friendly toward you. You ignore me for my whole life, and then my half brother dies and you need a new political pawn, so you come sucking up to me. What a wonderful basis for friendship.”
    Yanagisawa knew that Yoshisato was hurt because Yanagisawa had, in effect, disowned him by positioning him as the shogun’s son. “So I didn’t fuss over you like a mother hen while you were growing up. Not many fathers would have.” Yanagisawa’s own father had been a cold, ambitious man who’d introduced Yanagisawa to the shogun as soon as Yanagisawa was old enough to tempt the shogun’s sexual appetite. Yanagisawa’s longtime affair with the shogun had resulted in many political and economic benefits for his family. “But I’ve given you something worth far more than my attention—the chance to rule Japan. And I’m here now. Can we put the past behind us and make a fresh start?”
    Longing, pain, and confusion mixed in Yoshisato’s gaze. It was clear that he cared more about Yanagisawa than he wanted to admit. Then his face hardened. “It’s too late. I’m not your son anymore. I’m the shogun’s. And you’re not going to stick around when I’m head of the regime. You might stab me in the back like you’ve done to other people who’ve crossed you.”
    Yanagisawa felt as if he were pushing a wild horse up a mountain while it bit, thrashed, and tried to kick him down. Too furious to apologize for his past sins and grovel, he grabbed Yoshisato by the front of his robes, shook him, and yelled, “You ungrateful, stubborn, foolhardy wretch! You won’t deprive me of my rightful share in ruling Japan!”
    “Yes, I will!” Yoshisato grabbed Yanagisawa’s wrists. “Take your hands off me!”
    A quavering voice called, “Hello?”
    Yanagisawa and Yoshisato froze. They both knew they mustn’t fight in front of anyone, especially the shogun. They kept their battles private.
    The shogun tiptoed into the room, as hesitant and nervous as if he were a trespasser instead of the lord over everything he saw. “Am I, ahh, intruding?”
    “Not at all, Your Excellency.” Yanagisawa smoothed Yoshisato’s robes with a fond gesture before unhanding the young man. “Please join us.”
    He’d already wiped his expression clean of his inner turmoil and donned a relaxed, serene pose. Yoshisato wasn’t yet as adept at concealing his emotions. Anxiety showed through his artificial calmness like bare flesh through inexpertly laced armor.
    The shogun wandered through the quarters while Yanagisawa and Yoshisato followed. “Ahh, this place looks different than I remember. But I only lived here a short time, when my older brother was shogun. He suddenly took ill and named me as his successor. A few days later he died. I became shogun.” Worry deepened the lines in his forehead. “My brother waited until his end was near before he designated his heir. Perhaps I should have chosen to do the same.”
    Yanagisawa and Yoshisato exchanged alarmed glances. They’d thought Yoshisato safely installed, but now the shogun was having second thoughts. “Your brother waited because he knew the dictatorship would pass to you whether or not he officially designated you as his heir,” Yanagisawa said. “You and he were both sons of the previous shogun.” Yanagisawa suspected the older brother had hoped the younger would die first and his son, Ienobu, could inherit the regime. Ienobu would have liked that. “Your installation was a formality he put off. But there’s no need for you to wait until you’re on your deathbed to install your son as your heir, with all the ceremony, honor, and pleasure you both deserve.” Yanagisawa extended his arms to draw Yoshisato and the shogun together.
    Shying away