Sun day

It was raining this morning when I visited the graveyard, and I sat beside Lady Uru’s grave for hours. Shortly after I arrived I was joined by a contemporary of hers, a lord, who struck up a conversation with me over the dripping of rain from my parasol.

He was a strange man, a self-identified philosopher with what he deemed a passion for truth and beauty. He and Sev’s mother were friends of a sort, engaging in debates on the nature of good and the like. One thing he confided in me stays with me now as I think on it. He said, “We would have married, if she had been from a different family. My family would not accept a woman with naught but her face to her benefit, and she accepted a suit for her hand soon after mine came to naught. We lost touch soon after that.”

I told him, “Lord Uru was traditional in that regard. He believed that his wife’s counsel should be for him alone.”

Echoing my thoughts at the time, he said, “More like he believed women shouldn’t be heard at all. I wish she’d been less beautiful.”

He amused me at that, and I remember replying, “You have a rare sentiment there, my lord.”

We flirted for a while, and talked of beauty and children and fate. His name is Mori Hideki, and I have arranged to have tea with him next week. I think there is nothing my husband’s mother would like better than to have he and I become friends in her absense. I think she would find it a pleasant turn of events, and congratulate us on good sense. I think she would tell me not to fret over her son, because she believed in not ruffling ones’ feathers with shown emotion. In that way, Sev’s parents were ever similar, and a cause for his delightful habit of hiding his true feelings from everyone around him, or trying.

It will be nice to have a friendship that is untouched by politics.

Comments (1)

KayleeFebruary 20th, 2011 at 9:01 am

Lady Uru, I doubt you will *ever* have a friendship untouched by politics.

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