The Peony Lantern by Frances Watts

interior. I found a set of green-glazed sake cups on the top shelf and a painted fan. On the bottom shelf there was a large octagonal box. Excited, I carefully pulled it out; I had heard of such boxes but never seen one. Made of maki-e , lacquer sprinkled with gold powder, it held shells for playing kaiawase , a shell-matching game. I opened the lid and sure enough it was filled with clam shells, each one painted with a scene. Beneath this layer was a second layer of shells; each shell from the top layer would have a perfect match from the second. This must have been part of Misaki’s wedding set, I realised. The matching of the two shell halves symbolised the perfect union of marriage.
    I was lifting shells from the box and examining them one by one when I noticed with a start that the voiceswhich had been a background murmur had stopped. Then I heard Misaki calling me.
    â€˜Coming,’ I said, putting the box back where I had found it. I would have to ask Misaki about it later; perhaps we could even play.
    â€˜I thought you might have gone to the garden without me. I’m glad you waited; you know you can’t be trusted to select our materials yourself.’ She smiled to let me know she was teasing, though it was true; I would have unerringly selected the most crooked branches and the most headstrong flowers.
    As we snipped branches of pink-flowering crepe myrtle, my thoughts returned again to the conversation I’d overheard the day before. It was strange, I reflected, how you could spend almost every hour of the day with someone and still know so little about them. And Lord Shimizu had praised my powers of observation! Well, whether she was a samurai or not, with her gentle modest nature Misaki was undoubtedly a lady.
    â€˜Ouch!’ I had been squeezing so ferociously on the secateurs as I tried to cut a particularly thick branch that I had given myself a blood blister.
    â€˜Oh, Kasumi, what are you doing? That branch wouldn’t even fit in a vase.’
    Any efforts to turn me into a lady, however, were clearly doomed to failure.

Chapter
            Eight
    Cracking of branches
    Colours painting the heavens:
    Flowers in the sky
    I thought we had seen the last of the rain, yet I woke one morning to find the day had dawned grey and drizzly.
    â€˜I hope it doesn’t last too long,’ Misaki fretted. ‘They might have to cancel the fireworks festival.’
    I had never seen fireworks before. ‘Are they actually like fire in the sky?’ I asked.
    â€˜Not exactly. They’re more delicate. They’re like . . . they’re like drawings in the sky with light and colour and movement — and they’re so loud.’
    â€˜If I stand in the garden, will I be able to hear them?’
    â€˜Probably.’
    â€˜Will I be able to see them?’ Drawings in the sky . . . what a beautiful notion.
    â€˜I’m sorry, Kasumi. I don’t think so.’ Her eyes weresoft with regret. I knew she felt bad that I wouldn’t be going, but I didn’t; I knew that the ladies-in-waiting from the domain mansion would be real ladies, not like me. ‘So what should we do this morning?’ Her eyes wandered to the window. ‘I would’ve liked to spend time in the garden.’
    I remembered the box I had found in the cabinet. ‘We could play a shell-matching game.’
    â€˜Shell-matching? What are you talking about?’
    â€˜The box in the cabinet. I found it the other day.’ As I was talking, I had moved to the cabinet and removed the box. ‘Was it part of your wedding set?’
    Misaki frowned slightly as she looked at the octagonal box, and it occurred to me that she probably hadn’t had a wedding set, not on this scale. Shell-matching boxes were for the daughters of daimyo and their highest-ranking samurai retainers.
    â€˜No, it’s not mine.’ She bit her lip. ‘It’s