“Nay,” interposed the princess, smiling quietly, “Komatzu is a modern. The times have changed, Masago. No longer are the royal ones called gods.”
“Yet like unto a god he was,” declared the girl, “for I saw with these eyes.”
“Which love had sweetly blinded,” smiled the princess, sympathetically. She, also, arose, and put her hand upon Masago’s arm, leaning against her.
“Masago,” she said, in her low, winning voice, “if you could do so, would you change your simple home for the royal court and all its glamour?”
“Ask the birds if they prefer the wide, free sky to the dark sea.”
“Would you, then, exchange your state for—mine, Masago?”
Slowly the girl turned her face and looked into the pleading eyes of Sado-ko. Her voice was hoarse. She said:—
“You give me wilful pain, O princess. Why? You know full well that could not be.”
“Why not?” asked Sado-ko, whisperingly.
“No, no!” Masago recoiled, her incredulous eyes fixed as if fascinated on the face of Sado-ko. The princess placed her hands on the shoulders of Masago, and brought her face close to hers.