Sanuki no Suke’s Diaary: Days of Imperial Mourning (1)

 

     It was nearly the end of the twelfth month when someone brought me a letter, saying, "This is a letter from Ben no Suke, the wet nurse of the Emperor." I accepted and opened it.

     The letter read: "The Retired Emperor has instructed that neither Fujiwara no Mitsuko nor her daughter, Jisshi, will be attending on New Year’s Day. Since as many suitable attendants as possible should be present on such an auspicious day, he requests that you come to the palace."

     I thought to myself, "There is no escaping this now." Accepting my fate, I hurriedly prepared for my departure.

     I arrived at the palace on the evening of New Year’s Day. The moment my carriage pulled into the guardhouse inside the gate, a flood of memories rushed over me, filling my heart with overwhelming emotion. When I reached my assigned chambers, I learned that the young Emperor was staying elsewhere, and so my first night passed uneventfully.

     The next morning, a heavy snow fell. Upon waking, I felt as though nothing had changed since the late Emperor's reign; the reality of a new Emperor being on the throne felt like something happening in a distant world. Just then, a sweet, innocent voice drifted over: "Fall, fall, powdery snow!"

     "Oh, who could that be? Whose child is that?" I wondered, only to realize with a shock that it was the Emperor himself. The realization staggered me. The thought that I must now rely on and serve such a young boy as my lord filled me with a pitiful sense of helplessness.

     Feeling out of place during the day, I waited until after sunset before entering his presence.

     "Tonight is an auspicious night," I was told, "so please serve him his meal." They dimmed the lamp before him and gestured for me to begin. I quietly stepped forward to serve him, just as I used to do in the past. The only unfamiliar details were the dark, unlacquered trays and earthenware bowls, which had replaced the lacquered ones used in the previous reign.

     The Emperor came running over, bringing his face very close to mine.

     "Who is this?" he asked.

     When the attendants replied, "This is the foster child of the late Emperor Horikawa," he seemed to accept it. He appeared to have grown considerably since I last saw him.

     That had been the year before last, when he had come to the Imperial Palace to stay at the Prince’s Palace. Whenever he visited his father’s quarters, the late Emperor would eventually urge him, "Now, you should return. You must have your hair combed before sunset."

     "I want to stay by your side just a little longer," the prince would reply. I remember so clearly how endearing the late Emperor found this. The memory felt so vivid, as if it were happening right before my eyes, and my heart overflowed with sorrow.

     That night, I attended to him as he slept with absolute, childlike innocence. But his tiny form was engulfed in grand imperial robes that did not yet fit him—a heartbreaking sight that moved me to tears.