Autumn Bridge Read Online Free PDF Page A

she surpassed even the most fevered descriptions he had heard.
    All true beauty transcended the merely physical. Yet her every action was so exquisite, he was not entirely sure whether he was seeing or imagining. The closing and opening of the delicate fingers of her hand, the inclination of her head in one direction or another, the slight parting of her lips as she inhaled in polite surprise at someone’s supposedly clever remark, the way her smile began, not at her mouth, but in her eyes, as every sincere expression did.
    This is not to say she was physically deficient in any way. Her eyes were the perfect shape of elongated almonds, her skin as unblemished as the nocturnal snow falling in the light of the full winter moon, the subtle curves of her body in her kimono an ideal complement to the fall of the silk, the small bones of her wrists suggestive of a tantalizing bodily fragility.
    Genji had never seen a woman so beautiful. He had not even imagined one.
    The geisha next to him sighed.
    “Oh, that Heiko. Whenever she is around, it is impossible for the rest of us to keep anyone’s interest. How cruel life is.”
    “Who are you talking about?” Genji said. “How can I see anyone else when you are so close?” His gallantry would have been more effective if he had said her name, but in truth, he could no longer remember it.
    “Ah, Lord Genji, you are so very kind. But I know when I am defeated.” She smiled, bowed, and made her way across the room to Heiko’s side. They exchanged some words. Heiko passed her shamisen to the other geisha and came to sit beside Genji. When she crossed the room, the eyes of every man there followed her. Even Saiki, his dour Lord Chamberlain, and Kudo, the commander of his bodyguard corps, could not restrain themselves. If any of his samurai were traitors, as his grandfather suspected, now would have been the ideal moment to assassinate Genji. Except, of course, even the traitors, if there were any, were also watching Heiko. Such was the power of beauty. It overwhelmed even discipline and reason.
    “I did not mean to interrupt your performance,” Genji said.
    Heiko bowed and sat beside him. The slight silken rustle of her kimono reminded him of the sound of waves receding gently from a distant shore.
    “You have not interrupted me, my lord,” Heiko said.
    This was the first time he had heard her speak. It took all of his considerable self-discipline to keep from gasping in awe. Her voice had the quality of chimes, not in an exact sense, but in the way that their reverberations seemed endless even as they faded away. Now that she was close, he saw a hint of light freckles beneath her makeup. She could easily have concealed them, but she had not. The slight flaw brought to mind the necessary imperfections of life itself, its brevity and unpredictability, and imbued her beauty with a perfect hint of melancholy. Was she really so ravishing, or was his pretense of drunkenness more authentic than he had intended?
    “I have interrupted you,” Genji said. “You are no longer playing the shamisen.”
    “That is true,” Heiko said, “but I am still performing.”
    “You are? Where is your instrument?”
    She opened her empty arms as if presenting something. Her smile was as slight as it could be and still exist. She looked him directly in the eyes and did not turn away until he blinked, surprised by her words as well as her gaze.
    “And what is the nature of your performance?”
    “I am pretending to be a geisha who is pretending to be more interested in her guest than she really is,” Heiko said. Her smile was slightly more apparent now.
    “Well, that is very honest of you. No geisha I have known has ever made such a confession. Isn’t it against the rules of your craft to admit even the possibility of insincerity?”
    “It is only by breaking the rules that I will attain my goal, Lord Genji.”
    “And what is your goal?”
    Above the sleeve that Heiko lifted to cover the