With Character Master off questioning Zeus' potential paramours, Daji and I escort Hera to the garden, and we all sit in rattan chairs with chrysanthemums festooning the space and surrounding us, kissing the air with their heavenly perfume.
Hera holds a cup of wine from which she sips delicately. "Why did the emperor not tell me himself? Why?"
Daji shrugs. "We don't even know if he knew. It's not in any of his diaries, at least 10,000 pages' worth. There are some secrets he may prefer to keep to himself."
I haven't even read one of Kubla Khan's diaries, and something tells me Daji hasn't either. However, her innocent, guileless expression is enough to sell the story.
Hera exhales. "I shall have to have words with him when he returns. But maybe I'm better off not knowing. I would hope that the emperor would have a heart and compassion, enough not to sanction infidelity ..."
