Free Falling Through Glass by Barbara Sheridan Page A

wall. Her father and brother had had a couple of standoffs like this, and they hadn’t been pleasant.
    “My tastes are as they have always been,” Kaemon said curtly before turning. “I don’t understand why you dislike the Shinsengumi. They’ve quelled more disturbances than any other force in Kyoto.”
    “They’re nothing but farmers with swords. That will never change, no matter how many rebels they slay or favors they’re granted.”
    The low growl that rumbled in Kae’s chest chilled Emmi, and she instinctively grabbed the back of his haori, hoping to stop him from saying or doing something he’d regret. He relaxed, and she rubbed his back a moment before removing her hand.
    Kaemon’s father cleared his throat. “Send your playmate back to wherever you found her then meet me in my quarters within the hour.” He left, shutting the sliding panel with a sharp bang.
    Kae grumbled and turned back to face Emmi. She looked up at him with a combination of worry and curiosity.
    “Why did you do that?” he asked. “Why did you rub your hand over my back?”
    Emmi shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess because my parents did that to each other. They didn’t get angry very often, but that was their signal for the other to stop and think before they said or did anything they’d regret later.”
    Emmi paused as the awkwardness of the situation engulfed her, making the brief silence uncomfortable.
    “So that was your father?”
    Kaemon smirked. “Yes. His Imperial Highness Prince Nakagawa.”
    Emmi shivered. No wonder he seemed so dictatorial—
    “Prince? Your father is a prince?”
    Kaemon nodded. “He is an adopted brother to the emperor.”
    “The emperor?”
    Kaemon smirked. “He’s the emperor as long as the rebel swine never get their way.”
    Emmi’s mind spun. For as long as she could remember, there had been a large portrait of the Emperor of Japan above the living room mantel in her grandparents’ house. Even in old family photos it was there.
    Kaemon’s father was a prince, the adopted brother of the current emperor and that meant…
    Shouldn’t she fall to her knees and bow? He practically had his hands in your pants , a sarcastic inner voice said. Don’t you think you’re a wee bit past the formality stage ?
    “You’re an imperial prince?” Emmi asked in a shaking voice, hoping she’d gotten it all wrong.
    “Yes. And I’m going to be a prince awaiting his funeral if I don’t get to my father’s quarters in time. Come on.”
    He dragged her out of the secret passage and rushed through various rooms and corridors, causing the squeaky Nightingale Floor to sing.
    “I can’t go to the Imperial Palace looking like this.”
    “No, you can’t,” Kaemon said. “That’s why I’m leaving you here.”
    “No!”
    Kaemon stopped and glared at her. “I will not leave you to run loose here or through Kyoto. I’m taking you to the wife of the castle warden. I’ll return for you later.”
    Knowing that she didn’t have much choice in the matter, Emmi let him lead her to the spacious kitchens of Ninomaru Palace. There a bevy of maids dressed in matching salmon-colored kimonos with dark green obis bustled about preparing food to place on the dozens of ozen —meal trays—that sat waiting with small bowls and plates atop a series of long plank tables set against the far wall.
    While Kaemon didn’t acknowledge the attention that their entrance into the room attracted, Emmi noticed the many covert looks the young samurai got from the maids as they passed. The one he sought out, however, was an older lady dressed in a somewhat drab, dark gray kimono with a black and white obi.
    “Shinjuku-san,” Kaemon said in a singsong tone as he approached the woman from behind. “May I speak with you a moment?”
    She spun around, and Emmi felt like an impetuous child bothering an impatient mother.
    “I don’t have a moment!” She gestured around the kitchen. “Look at this! With Inaba going out, and