Envoys from Edo came to the palace. Ichiteru was dressed in her best clothes and presented to them. Afterward, the empress told her, “You have been selected to be a concubine to the next shogun. The fortune-tellers have prophesied that you shall bear his heir and unite the emperor’s clan with the Tokugawa. Through you, wealth and power shall return to the imperial family. You leave for Edo tomorrow.”

Later Ichiteru learned that her family had sold her to the shogun’s envoys. In a daze of grief and confusion, she endured the month-long trip from Kyōto to Edo. One thought sustained her: The fate of the imperial family depended on her. She must win Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s favor and induce him to impregnate her. It was her duty to the emperor, her country, and the people she loved.

However, Ichiteru’s attitude had soon changed. She hated the noise and crowded conditions of the Large Interior, the constant surveillance, the indignity of compulsory sex, the quarrels and rivalries among the women. Soon her brightness turned to cunning; love of family turned to resentment toward those who had condemned her to misery. Her sense of duty vanished. She began to crave wealth and power for herself. She hated Lady Keisho-in’s stupidity and tiresome demands for attention with passionate jealousy. The vulgar old peasant woman symbolized what Ichiteru wanted to be: A woman of the highest, most secure rank, living in luxury, free to do as she pleased, while commanding everyone’s respect.

Thus began Ichiteru’s drive to bear Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s heir. Her beauty, talent, and lineage attracted his capricious fancy; her status as his favorite made her a leader within the hierarchy of the Large Interior, no matter that the shogun wanted her company only a few nights a month. Because he squandered his virility on boys, this was much better than any of the other women fared. Four years into her concubinage, Ichiteru was pregnant.

The shogun rejoiced. Blessings poured into Edo Castle from across the land. In Kyōto, the imperial family eagerly awaited its return to prominence. Everyone pampered Ichiteru; she reveled in the attention. A luxurious nursery was prepared.

Then, after eight months, she delivered a stillborn baby boy. The nation mourned. Yet neither the shogun nor Ichiteru gave up. As soon as she regained her health, she returned to Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s bedchamber. Finally, last year, she had gotten with child again. But when she miscarried it at seven months, the bakufu blamed Ichiteru. They advised the shogun against wasting any more precious seed on her. They brought in new concubines to tempt his meager appetite.

One of them was Lady Harume.

Ichiteru’s hatred of her rival still burned inside her, even now, with Harume dead. Reminding herself that Harume was no longer a threat, she turned to the next page of the book. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi gasped with delight. In a moonlit garden pavilion, a naked young boy crouched on all fours. Behind him knelt an older man, also naked, except for a black cap identical to the shogun’s. With one hand, the man inserted his erection into the boy’s anus; with the other, he grasped the boy’s organ. Lady Ichiteru read the accompanying poem aloud:

“Day becomes night,

The tides rise and ebb;

Frost melts beneath the sun

Royalty may take its pleasure however found.”

Seeing the gleam of lust in Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s eyes, Ichiteru said with a provocative smile, “Come, my lord, and take your pleasure from me.”

She parted her kimono. Strapped to her groin by leather bands was a flesh-colored jade shaft carved in realistic likeness of an erect member. The shogun stared in amazement. A tremulous sigh escaped him. “Ahhhh…”

“Close your eyes,” Ichiteru crooned.

He obeyed. She took his hand and placed it on the carving. The shogun moaned, stroking it up and down. Ichiteru reached beneath his robes. The tiny, soft worm of his manhood stiffened under her caresses. When he was ready, she gently removed his hand from the carving and raised him to his knees. He groaned as she removed his garments, leaving on his cap. She bent over, balancing on her knees and elbows, kimono lifted above her waist, and rubbed her bare buttocks against his erection. The shogun grunted, heaving at her. Ichiteru reached back and guided him to her womanhood, which she’d moistened with fragrant oil. As he moaned and thrusted, trying to penetrate her, she looked back and caught a glimpse of him: flabby muscles straining, mouth open, eyes closed to preserve the illusion that she was a man.

Please, she prayed silently. Let me conceive this time! Make me the mother of the next shogun, and my sordid, degrading life worthwhile!

The shogun’s erection entered Ichiteru. Groaning, he plunged in and out. Hope rose within her. By this time next year, she could be Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s official consort. She would persuade him to restore the Imperial Court to its former splendor, thereby achieving her family’s goal and placing them in her debt forever. Holding this vision of the future, Ichiteru endured the shogun’s assault. And to think how close she’d come to losing everything!

Harume, young and fresh and lovely. Harume, with her robust, peasant charm. Harume, full of the promise that Ichiteru had once offered. Soon it was Harume whom Tokugawa Tsunayoshi most often invited to his bedchamber. After twelve years of whoredom and the agony of two births, Ichiteru was forgotten-but unwilling to accept defeat. She began plotting Harume’s downfall. At first she spread cruel rumors and snubbed the girl, encouraging her friends to do the same, hoping that Harume would become so miserable as to ruin her health and looks. But the ploy failed. Lady Keisho-in took a liking to Harume, and promoted her to the shogun as his best prospect for an heir. Hating her rival, wishing her dead, Ichiteru had resorted to more effective means. Still, nothing worked.

Then, two months ago, Ichiteru had noticed that Harume wasn’t eating; at mealtimes, she just picked at her food. The bloom faded from her skin. Three mornings in a row Ichiteru discovered her vomiting in the privy. Ichiteru’s worst fear was realized: Her rival was pregnant. Ichiteru grew desperate. She had to prevent Harume from beating her to their mutual goal of becoming mother to the next dictator. She couldn’t just wait and hope that the child would be female or not live. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life as an overworked palace official, and no man worth marrying would accept a failed concubine as a wife. Nor did she want to return to Kyōto in disgrace. With new determination, she sought a way to destroy her rival.

Unwittingly, Harume had abetted Ichiteru’s purpose by not reporting her condition. Perhaps, in her youthful ignorance, she didn’t recognize it as pregnancy. Ever watchful, Ichiteru spied Harume stealing from the basket where the women disposed of bloodstained cloths. Ichiteru realized she must be wearing them so Dr. Kitano wouldn’t discover that her monthly bleeding had ceased. Maybe she thought she was ill and would be banished from the castle if anyone knew. But Ichiteru could think of a better explanation: The child wasn’t Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s. Ichiteru had seen Harume sneak off during excursions away from Edo Castle. Did she fear punishment for consorting with another man? Snooping through her rival’s room in search of clues to his identity, Ichiteru had discovered a package containing a fancy jar of ink and a letter from Lord Miyagi. But whatever the reason for Harume’s secrecy, it gave Ichiteru opportunity to hope and scheme.

And now Harume was dead. Since none of the other concubines could arouse the shogun sufficiently, Ichiteru regained her position as his favorite female partner. She had another chance at conceiving his heir before retiring. One problem remained: She must convince the sōsakan-sama that she was not guilty of Harume’s murder. She must live to enjoy the fruits of thirteen years’ labor.