Thread: Kaminoyama {Zella and Alan23}

Enjoy? Ah... I... of all the questions he might have rehearsed an answer to, this was not on the list. Rarely did a ruler ask such intimate questions of her subjects. He might have lied, and attempted to portray himself as someone so dedicated to her service or that of his empire that he had no outside interests or pleasures whatsoever. Yet this lie would not serve, he guessed. She was obviously far too intelligent to be fooled, despite her lack of experience at life. Against this, however, the truth could hardly serve either. An interest in drinking, opium, whores and geisha was hardly a thing one might discuss with the most important person in the whole empire, a descendent of the gods themselves according to some philosophies. He temporised. Your Imperial Highness, I enjoy... erm... scrolls. Beautifully drawn pictures. Be they composed in the old, traditional methods in which some artists still work, or the more modern electronic method. Good poetry, too, such as that by Hiroshika or Ranika. As soon as he had mentioned the latter, he regretted it. This poet, while not exactly a pornographer - he enjoyed too much respectability among scholars for that - was nonetheless known for his obsession with the breasts of adolescent girls. Zumozo was not unaware that the empress was aware she had inadvertently revealed far more than she should thanks to her misbehaving kimono, for her blush had been obvious. If she - or one of her lurking flunkies - suspected he was mocking her small accident... Ranika Ziano, I mean, he hastily corrected, referencing the lesser known brother of the poet he had invoked. He has far greater understanding of natural imagery than the elder. And never dealt with female breasts, either. His task was made more difficult by the fact that despite Ling-We's hasty correction of the kimono, it seemed determined not to stay in place. The small freckle that so drew the eye much as he tried to look away had not been in view immediately after the maid had fixed her mistress' neckline, yet now it was again, proof that the neckline of the garment was again creeping down. Zumozo cursed Ling-We. Her job was to keep her mistress looking perfect, yet she was sitting there like a stunned fish, looking away. He realised, suddenly that perhaps he was being unfair, for she could hardly keep bobbing up every five seconds to adjust her mistress. To do so would only call attention to what was happening, and embarrass her even more. Even the fact that he was looking away, pretending interest in a silk scroll that, fortunately, he recognised as by Tamo, one of the greatest of the empire's living artists and was able to discourse intelligently on it could not prevent his hostess' embarrassment indefinitely, for he had to look at her at some point. And I love hoverball, too, he continued, which was a safe enough bet. The hoverball leagues were followed by everyone, from the high officials of the court down to the meanest peasant. And swimming, and... erm, running and wrestling in the gymnasium. He risked a quick look back at the empress, making sure not to look downwards. His heart sank, as he saw that her slipping neckline was not the only disaster. Once locked in place, the elaborate hair combs of her hairstyle should not have been touched, for the slightest displacement could loosen them. Ling-We, in order to hide what she had really been doing had been forced to fuss with them, with the result that two of them had slipped, enabling the elaborate hairstyle to become disarranged, and at least one of the combs was now right on the verge of coming loose entirely. The mortification that she would suffer if one of her combs fell into the food would be indescribable. He tried to signal with his eyes to Ling-We, but she shrugged, subtly and helplessly. I can't keep jumping up to fix her clothes, her futile glance seemed to say. Yet the empress could hardly fix the comb herself, even if she knew of it, for to do so would cause the sleeves of the kimono to disarrange the neckline even further when she raised her arms. And the situation there was immodest enough already. And as he watched, the comb did indeed slip, come loose and slide along her shoulder, and down onto the table. A faux pas that would have made even a girl of the trading classes appear ridiculous, never mind the empress. Ling-We gasped in shock.