4. Meeting in the Flower Garden (2)
The Royal Palace’s seasonal courtyard—at this time of early summer, a garden overflowing with blooming red roses—had been prepared for a garden party, and it was filled with finely dressed boys and girls my own age.
Okaasama accompanied me as far as the entrance. It seemed the adults would wait inside the palace for the children’s party to conclude, in a room with large glass windows overlooking the courtyard where they could watch us.
Today, Okaasama was dressed in a way that was respectful of the palace yet very simple, with only light, unobtrusive makeup. Even so, she was breathtakingly beautiful. When I glanced back at her as she entered the room, I saw that the other mothers were dressed as if it were their own party, though I didn’t understand why. To my eyes, it only made Okaasama seem all the more beautiful in comparison.
Since the main event was the children’s party, it wouldn’t be a long affair. We were to gather a little before noon and be dismissed before the afternoon snack time.
The party began with His Majesty the King introducing the prince, who was our age, and saying a few words encouraging us all to forget our stations and enjoy ourselves. I was the only one who curtsied at his words, which was a little embarrassing. Everyone else was completely captivated by their first sight of the prince. I was just glad no one seemed to have noticed me.
As for me, I was immediately surrounded by a crowd of girls. They all wanted to know why, despite my lovely dress and hairstyle, I was wearing such strange makeup. The freckles were one thing, but it was my eyebrows and lips that they seemed most concerned about.
“My stepmother did it,” I said.
At that single sentence, most of the girls’ eyebrows drooped into expressions of pity, and they fell silent. Then, they gently changed the subject.
Only three of them cried out, “That’s horrible!” I decided I would try to become friends with these three. “Please don’t worry about me; go and enjoy the party,” I said with a smile, encouraging the other girls to move on.
The three who had been angry remained. They seemed truly unable to forgive the fact that I had been made to wear such frumpy makeup, and their round cheeks puffed out even more as they fumed.
Their names, I learned, were Bianca, Estelle, and Selene. I also heard their surnames and their fathers’ titles, but I set that information aside for the moment. I’d been taught that remembering a person’s face and name after one meeting was a mark of good manners. It might have been difficult with a large group, but I managed with just the three of them.
To the three who stayed, I confessed the truth. “Actually,” I began, “my mother did my makeup like this because she told me to find friends who would get angry for my sake. She said those would be the ones who would truly be on my side. So, allow me to reintroduce myself. I am Sheryl. Bianca, Estelle, Selene, thank you for being angry for me. Would you be my friends?”
My etiquette tutor had taught me that humility is a virtue, but servility is not. So, it was only in my heart that I added the words, ‘even for someone as unattractive as me.’
“Of course!” they all exclaimed, taking my hands and leading me toward the tables laden with refreshments and sweets. As we walked and talked, their curiosity shifted to my mother. I told them all about how much she praised me and showered me with affection, carefully hiding the fact that she never complimented my appearance.
For some reason, I felt that if I mentioned it, they would take it the wrong way. I could see just by looking at Bianca and the others that I wasn’t attractive. They wore a light blush on their cheeks, and their lips were colored with a lovely, glossy pink. I thought they were genuinely pretty. My own raw materials were poor, so Okaasama’s method must have been the right one for me.
Well, their lipstick came off after they ate some sweets. I, however, had learned how to eat without smudging mine, so my slightly brown, matte lips remained unchanged until the end of the party.
Before the party ended, I needed to use the lavatory, so I parted ways with Estelle and the others there, as it would be time to leave by the time I returned. The four of us promised to write letters and visit each other, and just like that, I had made three wonderful new friends.
Naturally, there were servants and guards attending the party, so I told a palace servant standing at the entrance that I wished to use the lavatory. I was given directions to a washroom in the palace proper, just through an archway and adjacent to the garden, in a room with a wide-open terrace.
It seemed they took special care with these things since the party was for children. It looked like I would have no trouble finding my way back. The garden we had been in was filled with the red roses of early summer, but outside this room was a different garden, one with white roses and a fountain.
As I gazed at the fountain, I noticed a boy dressed in white clothes with gold-thread embroidery. His golden hair shimmered and flowed with the breeze. ‘How beautiful,’ I thought, captivated for a moment, but I knew His Majesty would be making another appearance at the end of the party.
“Is something the matter? The party is about to end, you know.”
I felt it might be a bit rude, but I decided to speak to him anyway.
The boy turned around, and I saw that his beautiful, bright green eyes were filled to the brim with tears. For some reason, he was crying.