Light of the Moon

I sighed as I studied my reflection in the polished brass mirror. The ‘gibbous moon’ look wasn’t very flattering, but it was the latest rage in women’s hairstyles. I studied the long, dark sections of hair brushed down along my cheeks, pursing my lips. I didn’t have the round, soft face that was so prized, and afternoons in the garden had given me a very unladylike tan. I shrugged, turning my attention to the poem I’d written in reply to Shugo. It needed more work, but I didn’t want it to sound like I was trying too hard, either. Such an awkward predicament.

“Ah, you’re up late.” The voice made me smile, and I turned to see Shugo’s familiar shadow just beyond the silk curtains that prevented anyone from looking into my private chamber.

I hastily arranged myself in a proper woman’s pose, face bowed low toward the polished floor, hands tucked into my sleeves until only my fingertips showed. “The moon is too beautiful to sleep through,” I replied.

“Might I enjoy it with you?”

“I would be honored, my lord.”

View this story's 3 comments.