Yatagarasu Series
Volume 10:
The Raven's Autumn Full Moon
Author: Abe Chisato
Part 6: Sumio
High-ranking officials and noblemen gathered in the Imperial Hall, their faces illumined by the clear, steady light of hanging lanterns. Those present sat in orderly rows before Emperor Nagihiko, who was seated on his throne and concealed by a bamboo screen. The Yellow Raven sat one level below him. The Lords of the Four Families sat on the level below that. The seating arrangements were determined by rank and status.
It was customary to conduct official business in the Imperial Hall. The session opened with a prayer to the mountain god. Disagreements during these meetings were rare because most of the time, everyone came to the meeting after communicating their decisions to everyone else. This meeting had been called in haste, so Nagihiko expected that it would not go smoothly.
Going through the prayers and rituals felt like such a waste of time to Akihiro, the son of the Lord of Saike. He had never liked these meetings. He was concerned about his cousin, Sumio. The officials sitting near him kept giving him cold or mocking stares. He had no friends in the crowd and feared the worst.
Akihiro knew that his cousin, Aoi—now called Sumio—had always been a strong-willed person, even as a child. She had been frail as a girl, so he’d rarely seen her until she was almost a teenager. There was something sharp and dangerous about her. He never let down his guard when he spoke to her, even though they were family.
When Akihiro learned that Sumio wanted to become a rakujō, he’d done what he could to discourage her. There was no reason for her to suffer to join the imperial government. She had so many options that were better than that. But Sumio hadn’t listened to him at all. She never listened to anyone. She’d always done as she pleased.
He remembered the last time he’d spoken to her before she’d come to the Imperial Court as a rakujō. After he’d listed a whole host of reasons for why becoming a rakujō was an awful idea, she’d smiled at him and said, “Thank you for your concern, Akihiro. But I’ll be fine.”
Even Aoi’s father hadn’t been able to convince her to change her mind. When Akihiro had gone to Lord Sumio to discuss the matter, he’d said, “That girl will do as she wishes. No one can stop her now.”
After she’d come to the Imperial Court, her bizarre behavior had kept everyone on edge. He had expected a certain level of recklessness from her based on her past behavior, but he hadn’t expected her to drag her entire family into a scandal. The Saike family was already the weakest of the Four Families in terms of power.
Akihiro learned that Sumio had been formally arrested after returning to the Saike family’s city residence. He’d had a full day of work and worries already when he heard the news. He had no idea why anyone would arrest Sumio. He was stunned. What had she done to get arrested? Why hadn’t she told anyone what she was doing so that her family could protect her?
The Saike family would suffer for Sumio’s behavior. Akihiro prayed that his younger sister, Katsura no Hana, would be spared any repercussions. She was already struggling in Sakura Palace, and everyone knew that she wouldn’t be chosen as the next empress. She didn’t need to borrow more trouble.
Akihiro had chosen to attend this meeting in case he was given a chance to speak on his sister’s behalf. He didn’t care about what happened to Sumio as long as the rest of the family was safe.
The meeting continued as usual. Agenda items were brought up and resolved. The emperor could adjourn the meeting at his discretion. Akihiro expected him to end the meeting early and slip away so that he wouldn’t have to answer questions about Sumio.
Then Emperor Nagihiko said, “I have heard about a rather troubling matter and would like some advice.” His voice hadn’t dropped yet; he sounded like a young child.
The emperor usually only spoke to convene and end these meetings, so there were some officials who didn’t recognize his voice.
The Yellow Raven didn’t move. He said nothing. His gaze was fixed on the bamboo screen that concealed the emperor.
Akihiro was appalled by what he’d heard. Several other officials appeared equally surprised, and perhaps a little afraid.
“Your Imperial Majesty, perhaps it would be best to take up this matter in private,” Yoshimichi said.
“No,” Emperor Nagihiko said. “I wish to discuss it here. I have heard that a low-ranked rakujō named Sumio was arrested after producing an unauthorized glitter print. An investigation into the crime is currently underway, I believe.” He had a child’s voice, but he sounded decisive.
Yoshimichi had been presenting various reports to the Yellow Raven until just a few moments ago. His eyes flicked between the Yellow Raven and the emperor like a dog being given commands by two masters.
“Yes, it is exactly as Your Imperial Majesty says,” Yoshimichi said. “The investigation has still not concluded. Perhaps we could take this issue up later, after the investigation is complete.”
“No, I shall not wait.”
Yoshimichi appealed mutely to the Yellow Raven for help.
Lord Haruma stood at the Yellow Raven’s side and watched the situation unfold. He gave his subordinates a knowing look and then plastered a polite smile onto his face.
“With all due respect, Your Imperial Majesty, this is a matter of procedure,” Haruma said. “There will be no additional information to report until the investigation is over.”
“No, that cannot be so,” Emperor Nagihiko said. “Why is the investigation taking so long? The facts must be clear by now. I have heard that the rakujō, the bookstore owner that facilitated the glitter print’s creation, and the official who reported the print are all in the Imperial Palace today. Bring them to me.” Emperor Nagihiko issued this order upon his throne and expected prompt obedience.
“What are you saying, Your Imperial Majesty?” Haruma asked. “The Imperial Hall is sacred. Not just anyone is allowed to enter it.”
“I am saying that I shall allow them to enter it. Bring them here. Now.”
Haruma was about to reply when the Lord of Saike spoke over him. “The other day, I commanded the woman in question to go out and listen to the common people. I am concerned that my own command may be connected to this disturbance over the unauthorized glitter print. I cannot fault the Yellow Raven’s investigation, but I have heard that once someone is accused, they are usually condemned in short order.”
Akihiro stared at his father, amazed.
“I see no issue with bringing Sumio, the bookstore owner, and the official who reported the glitter print here. This is, what do you call it, transparency, isn’t it? If the investigation is fair and just, there should be no problem with us hearing from the accused.”
Haruma usually had an answer for everything, but now he was speechless.
“If there is no problem here, I shall entrust all future investigations to the Yellow Raven and the officials that work under him,” the Lord of Saike said.
“Sessai!” Emperor Nagihiko cried out. “If I am the emperor, then obey my command and summon them at once. If you do not obey, then you are not my subject and have decided to rebel against me.”
Akihiro thought that sounded rather extreme. The emperor was all but accusing the Yellow Raven of treason. If he were given the choice, Akihiro would likely side with the Yellow Raven for his own safety. He thought the emperor was endangering himself and his position by speaking like this in public.
Emperor Nagihiko had never defied the Yellow Raven before. The assembled officials exchanged uncomfortable glances. Everyone waited for the Yellow Raven to speak.
The Yellow Raven looked bored. Turning languidly in his seat, he faced the emperor and bowed, his movements as perfectly controlled as a warrior’s. “Of course your command shall be obeyed, Your Imperial Majesty.” He didn’t even glance at his subordinates when he said, “You heard your emperor. Bring the rakujō, the bookstore owner, and the official here.”
***
Nagihiko looked out at the interior of the Imperial Palace from behind the bamboo screen.
Aotsugu, the Lord of Touke and Nagihiko’s maternal uncle, was frowning at him. Akihiko, the Lord of Saike, was restless and not looking at anyone. Genki, the Lord of Hokke, was whispering something to one of his attendants. Only the Lord of Nanke, Tōru, appeared entirely unruffled.
Nagihiko understood that he was making a power play. If he took one wrong step here, he could wind up like Nazukihiko, who’d been assassinated for disregarding the interests of the Four Families.
He didn’t care. He felt like if he didn’t make use of his power now, he would regret it for the rest of his life.
Before this meeting began, Nagihiko had learned a little about the contents of the glitter print. He hoped that he understood what Sumio was trying to do. He steeled himself for whatever came next.
***
The arrival of Sumio and the others was announced. Yoshimichi suggested moving them to a different venue so that people of low status wouldn’t sully the Imperial Hall, but Emperor Nagihiko’s resolve didn’t waver.
“Bring them in,” he commanded.
The doors of the Imperial Hall opened. Sumio, her collaborator on the glitter print, and Tawara no Jō were brought in. They were unbound and unharmed, but Tawara no Jō looked like he might faint on the spot. The bookstore owner cowered and made himself small. Sumio was still wearing her Imperial Court uniform and carried herself like she controlled her own fate.
It had been two days since she’d been arrested, but she didn’t look tired or distressed. Her hair was slightly more mussed than usual, but there didn’t appear to be anything else wrong with her.
Sumio was brought before Nagihiko. She looked through the bamboo screen like she was searching for his eyes. She grinned, and it was encouraging. Had she expected him to do this all along?
Nagihiko frowned. If I am being used, I hope that she at least had the foresight to use me well, he thought.
The Imperial Hall was completely silent. Everyone was waiting for him to speak.
Nagihiko coughed lightly and then said, “Show me the unauthorized glitter print.” He felt like he was participating in a ritual he’d never practiced before.
Yoshimichi was the coordinator of the investigation. He handed a sheaf of papers to an imperial archivist who brought them over to Nagihiko. The papers were preliminary sketches for glitter prints. The colors used were rich and vibrant. The sketches were all based around the same theme: the cruelty of the noble family in Nanke Territory that owned the cotton fields where Chihaya and his sister were born.
One sketch showed a Yatagarasu half-transformed as they tried to escape. A bearded man dragged the Yatagarasu down and brought a knife to their third leg as a woman and child screamed at him to stop. A calm nobleman watched the scene from the side, unconcerned.
The image was so vivid and lifelike that Nagihiko wondered if the artist had witnessed something like it with his own eyes.
There was text on the background of the image. Emperor Nazukihiko’s investigation was mentioned, as was the fact that a new investigation had been conducted. Petitions to Clear Mirror Temple regarding the abuses of nobles were summarized. The handwriting was beautiful, but the words conjured images of ugliness. These issues should have been brought before him. Nagihiko learned from the sketch that complaints about these cotton fields had been hushed up before they could reach him.
Nagihiko returned the sketch to the imperial archivist and ordered him to read the text aloud.
Everyone listened attentively, but Nagihiko didn’t think anyone was moved by the words. The Lords of the Four Families showed no reaction to what the archivist was reading.
Nagihiko licked his dry lips. He waited for the imperial archivist to finish reading. Then he said, “I wish to know more. Sumio, did you create these sketches?” he asked. “You are permitted to speak. Please answer in your own words.”
“I formally requested the owner of the bookstore called Treasures to make it for me,” Sumio said.
“Is that true?” Nagihiko asked the bookstore owner.
The man nodded. “I never imagined this glitter print would become such a problem,” he said. “Sumio is a government official, so I thought it was a commission from the Imperial Court. I put a great deal of effort into producing it. The Imperial Scriptorium sent their usual man to check the sketches before the glitter print was produced, and it passed, so I thought that there was no problem.”
Tawara no Jō grimaced. “There was no text on the sketches I reviewed. I believed that the sketches were depictions of scenes from a play that was already being staged. I never saw the text on this version. When I asked if there would be any text, I was told that it was still being revised.
“Just before printing, another publisher asked for confirmation that the glitter print had been approved. That is when the text came to my attention,” Tawara no Jō said. “After that, I reported the print. The text is completely unauthorized. I didn’t know that Sumio had created the glitter print before making the report, but I did suspect that she had something to do with it.”
“Why did you make this, Sumio?” Nagihiko asked. “You must have known that the Imperial Court would never authorize its creation.”
“Must I have?” Sumio asked.
“What?”
“Your Imperial Majesty, with all due respect, I do not understand what is wrong with this glitter print. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it at all when I asked for it to be made.” She sighed in lamentation. “An unauthorized glitter print is typically made in secret and never presented to the Imperial Scriptorium’s officials for review. This glitter print had an inspection, and it passed. Why should I have thought that there was a problem?”
Tawara no Jō rolled his eyes.
Sumio paid no attention to him. “Moreover, this glitter print was never published. It was reported before it could be put into production. I honestly see no problem with it at all. It has been called unauthorized when it was originally authorized. That is why it is being investigated, I believe.”
She sounded so calm that the imperial archivist in charge of Sumio’s interrogation frowned like thunder.
Nagihiko spoke before the imperial archivist could say something regrettable.
“You say the preliminary sketch was approved, but the sketch as we see it here was never given to anyone to review,” Nagihiko said. “It is natural to assume that your intent was to deceive the officials of the Imperial Scriptorium. Moreover, the contents of the glitter print criticize the imperial government. If this were printed, it would have caused considerable problems. You understand that, I trust?”
Sumio’s eyes widened.
The imperial archivist smirked.
“That was my misunderstanding,” she said. “I never intended to distribute this in the city. The text is far too complicated for most commoners to read.” She looked up at Nagihiko.
“Then who were you planning to distribute the print to?” Nagihiko asked.
“I intended to distribute this within the Imperial Court itself,” Sumio said. She gave Nagihiko her most radiant smile and drew herself up to her full height. She spread her hands out in front of her, toward the audience of nobles in the Imperial Hall. “In other words, everyone here would have received a copy.”
The seated nobles frowned at her and at one another.
Sumio was smiling, but her eyes were sharp and angry.
“What is written here concerns Imperial Court business, you see,” she said. “There was an investigation that cleared the landowners of all wrongdoing, but it is obvious that this is incorrect. It is unjust. I have listened to the people who first reported complaints about the noble family who owned the fields where they worked. Even appeals made by Clear Mirror Temple, of which there have been several, have been rejected. I thought that there must be nobles here who didn’t know the reality of the situation in Nanke Territory, so I sought to inform them. This matter concerns everyone who is present here in this hall.
“Surely you were not aware of these abuses and chose to overlook them?” Sumio asked the crowd.
There was a tense silence.
Nagihiko closed his eyes and quietly exhaled. For days, he had been thinking about how to avoid making the same mistakes as Nazukihiko and the Yellow Raven. He was empowered to act here, but he needed to treat carefully.
Emperor Nazukihiko had been assassinated for sympathizing with commoners. The Yellow Raven served the interests of the nobles and neglected the poor. Nagihiko didn’t think that either of those approaches were correct. He didn’t think that Sumio’s idea of letting the people govern themselves would work, either.
There was evidence here that the nobles had done something wrong. Perhaps that was the first step. Not just proving that the nobles abused their power, but getting them to admit it.
Nagihiko had suspected that Sumio might be attempting to do something like that with her glitter print. He was determined to support her as much as he could. It was true that some nobles were far worse than others, and those nobles did most of the harm to Yamauchi and its people. Some nobles didn’t think that common Yatagarasu were people at all. That was a problem, and it needed solving.
But Nagihiko didn’t believe that every noble in Yamauchi was evil or cruel. That was impossible. Yoshimichi wasn’t perfect, but he’d helped shape Nagihiko’s conscience. He’d been working for the Yellow Raven for all these years, but he had helped raise Nagihiko as a brother or a father would. Yoshimichi’s loyalty to the Yellow Raven didn’t alter the fact that he’d served Nagihiko well. He thought that if he hadn’t been the emperor, Yoshimichi would never have sworn to serve him, but he was certain that Yoshimichi would have taught any child right from wrong and praised them when they did the right thing.
Nagihiko believed himself ethical, and he could prove it. Sometimes he acted against his own self-interest for the benefit of others. He had never found that a particular hardship because he had so many privileges and resources.
He also knew that some nobles were not ethical and entirely self-interested, though he didn’t understand them at all. He couldn’t believe that so many of the adults around him now cared only about themselves.
“What is printed here is the truth,” Sumio said. “I confirmed it for myself.” She glanced toward the lower seats in the hall. “There was an appeal to Clear Mirror Temple, but that appeal was rejected before it reached the emperor. I found this strange, so I investigated further. I learned that no appeals from Clear Mirror Temple have been heard by the emperor for the past several years. Not one.
“After I became a rakujō, I went to the various ministries and asked questions about appeals and petitions from Clear Mirror Temple going unheard. I thought it was very strange. Over and over again, I heard that if such paltry and insignificant matters were taken up by the Imperial Court, the officials would never get any work done.
“If that is true, then Yamauchi’s system of government is flawed,” Sumio said. “If there is too much work for our officials to handle, there must be some way to solve that problem. Neglecting the small problems of commoners until they become impossible to ignore is wasteful in the extreme. Why did so many of the people I spoke to not take any interest in the problems of commoners?
“Is it an act of hostility to speak against the emperor or the Yellow Raven? Am I a rebel for telling the truth? I cannot accept such obvious injustice.” She shook her head and then looked up at Nagihiko. “I do not claim to speak on behalf of the oppressed commoners. I’m not qualified to do that. But someone must speak for them, however imperfectly. I know that many people are unhappy because they are unfairly treated, and I am a government official. It’s my job to address issues like that. I had no choice. I had to do something, Your Imperial Majesty.”
Sumio stared at the Yellow Raven. “Those in power know of the injustice that commoners face and do nothing to stop or prevent it. That negligence is a grave sin, and that sin touches all those who govern Yamauchi.”
Her gaze swept over the crowd. She raised her chin in defiance and said, “I ask you all to do what you can—not for the people you govern, but for yourselves. You can manage that, I trust. And your efforts will benefit the emperor, the Yellow Raven, and yourselves.”
The Yellow Raven was looking down at Sumio with a mildly curious expression. He didn’t move or speak.
Nagihiko let out a trembling breath. “I believe that I understand what you are saying, Sumio,” he said. “I am the emperor, so if there is fault in Yamauchi’s governance, I am responsible for it. I am sorry that people are suffering. I will do what I can.” He shifted in his seat and addressed the assembled noblemen. “I command you officials to do what you can, as well. Remember why you are nobles, and strive to be worthy of that honor.”
“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty,” the officials said in unison. They bowed their heads.
***
“How did everyone react?” Nagihiko asked Yoshimichi after they’d retired to the Night Palace.
Yoshimichi replied with a bitter smile. “I’m sad to say that most of them sneered, Your Imperial Majesty. They dismissed what you and the rakujō said as a grand speech and nothing more.”
“I suppose it was,” Nagihiko said. He had hoped that something might change as a result of him summoning Sumio to the Imperial Hall. In the end, she’d simply been led away with the bookstore owner and the official. The end of the meeting was remarkably anticlimactic.
Nagihiko was disappointed, but he also didn’t know what he could have done differently.
“I think that execution is unlikely,” Yoshimichi said. “I believe that Sumio will be dismissed from office.”
Nagihiko didn’t know what to say.
The imperial archivist who’d brought the glitter print forward and the Yellow Raven had said nothing about this situation to Nagihiko, but he knew that Sumio’s conduct was problematic. He didn’t expect the Yellow Raven to let her go without punishing her.
Sumio had been released from questioning earlier in the day, but she was barred from returning to the Imperial Court until further notice. She was being confined to the Saike family’s city residence.
Nagihiko thought that Sumio had lost this battle. She had changed nothing. All she had managed to do was earn the Yellow Raven’s ire. Nagihiko didn’t feel guilty regarding his own conduct, though he wished that he could have done something impactful. He wasn’t sure if speaking up for Sumio had been the right course of action or not.
One thought comforted him, and that was his speech to the officials. Those hadn’t been empty words on his part. He would do what he could for the good of Yamauchi. He hoped that other nobles present in the Imperial Hall that day shared that goal with him.
Nagihiko raised his head and looked at Yoshimichi as he prepared tea. “You helped me,” he said. “Thank you.”
Yoshimichi smiled slightly. “I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what you mean, Your Imperial Majesty. Did I do something deserving of gratitude?”
Nagihiko had only spoken up today because he’d learned about the contents of the glitter print in advance. One of Nagihiko’s official duties was to approve reports that had already been discussed and compiled by other officials. A copy of the sketches and a proof copy of the glitter print had found their way onto his desk before the meeting in the Imperial Hall.
Very few people had access to Nagihiko’s desk.
Nagihiko sipped his warm tea and smiled at his attendant.
The meeting that day had accomplished one other thing of note. The glitter print had scandalized the officials so much that a new investigation was being performed of the cotton fields where Chihaya had been born.
From preliminary reports, Nagihiko learned that Duchess Hotaru’s family had accepted large bribes from the nobles that owned the cotton fields for many years. Her family had also dismissed all the complaints that were made to them through official channels.
***
“The Duchess the Summer Hall will not be coming,” one of Katsura no Hana’s attendants said.
“I see,” Katsura no Hana said quietly.
“I would have liked to speak to her,” Yamabuki said. “But I suppose it can’t be helped.” She was seated opposite Katsura no Hana. They exchanged troubled glances.
Yamabuki was hosting a tea party in the Spring Hall. There had been several such tea parties in the Spring, Summer, and Autumn Halls since the Star Festival. Gatherings without Tsuru ga Oto were more pleasant than Katsura no Hana had expected. Both Yamabuki and Hotaru treated her with genuine friendliness.
It was also a blessing to be able to exchange information. Katsura no Hana had mixed feelings about the current situation. She wasn’t sure that excluding Tsuru ga Oto entirely was the correct approach, but she had started looking forward to tea parties instead of dreading them.
Current events outside of Sakura Palace gave her pause. When she’d learned that Sumio had been arrested, she’d thought her heart would stop. She was frustrated that she was confined within Sakura Palace and could do nothing to help her cousin.
On the day of Sumio’s arrest, a gloating message arrived from Tsuru ga Oto in the Winter Hall. While Katsura no Hana agonized over her reply, the situation changed with dizzying speed.
Katsura no Hana was relieved to hear that the emperor had defended Sumio, but then she learned that Sumio had exposed some wrongdoing of the Nanke family that endangered Hotaru’s position in Sakura Palace. Katsura no Hana was shaken to the core.
It would probably be inappropriate to apologize to Hotaru, but she wanted to say something. She bore no animosity toward the Nanke duchess at all. As she was wondering what to do, Yamabuki sent her an invitation to a tea party. Hotaru had accepted the invitation, but she had sent her apologies at the last minute.
“How is Duchess Hotaru?” Katsura no Hana asked Yamabuki.
Yamabuki looked at the woman who’d carried Hotaru’s message to them. “I was not able to see the duchess in person,” the attendant said. “Her ladies-in-waiting seemed confused. I do not think that Duchess Hotaru is angry with you, Duchess Katsura no Hana.”
It was no wonder that the Summer Hall was in confusion. The information that Katsura no Hana learned kept changing by the hour.
“Surely this will not result in Duchess Hotaru being sent home?” Katsura no Hana asked. She gave Yamabuki a pleading look.
Yamabuki frowned. “Who can say? Under ordinary circumstances, I would say that is impossible. But the Nanke duchess caused trouble and left during the last Rite of Ascension, so who knows what will happen now?”
Hotaru was not the Lord of Nanke’s natural daughter. If she became inconvenient for him or the Nanke family, she could easily be cast aside.
“There is no doubt that His Imperial Majesty’s opinion of Duchess Hotaru has worsened,” Yamabuki said. “We must wait and see what the Lord of Nanke will do.”
Katsura no Hana said nothing. She and Yamabuki both knew that if Hotaru was sent away, Yamabuki would be put forward as Nagihiko’s empress.
Yamabuki gave Katsura no Hana an apologetic glance. “Duchess Hotaru did nothing wrong herself,” she said. “It is tragic that she urged us to act with caution, if we acted at all, and yet she is suffering for the actions of her family. It isn’t fair.”
Yamabuki and the Touke family had done nothing to sabotage Hotaru. Katsura no Hana hadn’t intended to do her any harm, either. Now that they were in this situation, Katsura no Hana didn’t know how to respond.
***
A sudden summons from Empress Asebi came the day after the private tea party in the Spring Hall.
Katsura no Hana readied herself to go to Wisteria Hall with a queasy feeling in her stomach. This wasn’t like the summons in spring, when the empress had simply wished to see their dolls for the festival. There must be some other reason for her summons now. Perhaps there had been a message from the Nanke family. Katsura no Hana wasn’t expecting to hear good news.
The first person that Katsura no Hana saw when she entered Wisteria Hall was Yamabuki. They smiled at one another, not even daring to exchange words. They headed for their seats together and sat down at the same time.
Tsuru ga Oto arrived next. She gave Katsura no Hana and Yamabuki a stiff nod and then hurried over to her own place.
Hotaru entered some time later. She was deathly pale and trembling from head to toe.
“Duchess Hotaru!” Katsura no Hana cried out in alarm.
Hotaru looked at her and managed to smile. She took her seat without saying a word to anyone.
As soon as Hotaru sat down, one of the Fujimiyaren appeared and announced the arrival of Empress Asebi.
“Thank you so much for coming so quickly,” Empress Asebi said. She greeted them cheerfully, her face and her voice incongruously young. She was dressed in a layered kimono embroidered with white wisteria flowers and vines. The color of the embroidery accentuated the luster of her skin.
“I asked you all here today because there is something that I would like to say.”
There was no need for the empress to explain herself. If she wanted to see any of the four duchesses, or all of them, she had only to command their presence. If she wanted to convey information, she could have sent a message. None of the duchesses knew why they were present in Wisteria Hall.
Empress Asebi fidgeted awkwardly, then raised her face. Her voice had a hint of underlying steel as she said, “I am thinking of inviting one more duchess to Sakura Palace.”
This was unprecedented, to say the least.
Katsura no Hana gasped.
“Pardon me, Empress Asebi,” Tsuru ga Oto said with her usual bluntness. “The Four Families decided long ago that only one duchess from each family can come to Sakura Palace at the same time.”
Katsura no Hana had never expected to find Tsuru ga Oto’s customary forcefulness so heartening.
Empress Asebi was startled by the interruption. She sank back slightly on her throne, then looked each duchess in the eye, trying to gauge their reactions.
“I am sorry for startling you all,” Empress Asebi said. “As you say, Duchess Tsuru ga Oto, she would not be coming to Sakura Palace as a candidate to become my son’s empress. Considering her lineage, I have been told by several people that her presence here would be inappropriate. But I believe that she is attractive enough to make up for any faults in her birth. I hope that she will be a wonderful friend to you all.”
Katsura no Hana had feared that Hotaru might be replaced. She was relieved that this was not the case.
“The girl is somewhat famous, so I think you all already know of her.”
Katsura no Hana’s relief was quashed by a new wave of worry.
“I would like you all to welcome Sumio, who worked in the Imperial Court, to Sakura Palace.”
To say that the duchesses were surprised would be the understatement of the century. The duchesses managed to remain silent, but their attendants and ladies-in-waiting were not so composed.
Katsura no Hana found herself gaping. When she instinctively looked to the side, she saw Hotaru staring wide-eyed and speechless. Yamabuki’s fan dropped to the floor.
“Empress Asebi, surely I must have misheard you. You cannot mean Sumio, the rakujō of the Saike family?” Tsuru ga Oto asked in a shaky voice.
“That’s correct,” Empress Asebi said.
Tsuru ga Oto nearly fainted. “Why?” she asked. “Why would the Imperial Court permit such a thing?” She was practically shrieking at the empress.
Empress Asebi tilted her head innocently. “Lord Sessai has agreed to it,” she said.
***
“Your Imperial Majesty, please wait!”
Nagihiko ignored Yoshimichi and ran through the Imperial Palace.
Officials he passed were shocked when they recognized him. They hastily moved aside and prostrated themselves, but he had no time to acknowledge them.
Nagihiko knew that he should have summoned the Yellow Raven to him, but he couldn’t bear to sit and wait. He had never been to the Yellow Raven’s office before, but he knew exactly where it was: in a room not far from the Imperial Hall.
Two guards from the Aerial Army of Heaven were posted at the Yellow Raven’s door. They were astonished to see Nagihiko.
Nagihiko brushed past them and glared when they moved into his path. He stepped into the Yellow Raven’s office and looked around.
The room contained quite a bit of the human world’s furniture. Nagihiko noted a long-legged wooden desk matched with plain wooden chairs in one corner. All the furnishings he saw were sparsely decorated or threadbare. Even the hanging lanterns in the room had been designed for durability, not beauty. Bookshelves covered an entire wall. Documents, scrolls, and leather-bound volumes were arranged on those shelves in perfect order. One corner was slightly raised up by rice mats. A tea service and a tray sat on a low table in that corner.
The Yellow Raven was sitting at his desk. He must have heard the commotion when Nagihiko arrived, but his attention was on the document before him. He didn’t so much as glance at Nagihiko.
“What is the meaning of this, Lord Sessai?!” Nagihiko asked.
The Yellow Raven looked up for less than a second. “Haruma,” he said.
Lord Haruma stepped out from behind the Yellow Raven and guided Yoshimichi politely but firmly out of the room.
The Yellow Raven confirmed that the door was closed and then set down the brush he’d been holding.
“Well, now. Why is the emperor of Yamauchi wandering the halls of the Imperial Palace at this hour? How irresponsible.” He sounded disappointed, not angry.
Nagihiko told himself to remain calm. He bit his lip and glared at the Yellow Raven. “I heard that you intend to make Sumio my concubine,” he said. “Is that true?”
“It’s true.” He said it like he was commenting on the weather. “You are fond of that rakujō, aren’t you? There’s no need to be embarrassed.”
A wave of anger threatened to overwhelm Nagihiko. “There are already four duchesses in Sakura Palace,” he said. “I did not summon Sumio to me for frivolous reasons.”
“I see.” The Yellow Raven sounded bored. “In any case, you spoke to her often. You must believe that her ideas have some merit. Isn’t this a good opportunity for you both?” he asked, his voice devoid of emotion. “She will be dismissed from office and lose her place in the imperial government. Empress Asebi spoke on her behalf. If she becomes your concubine, she will be permitted to return to secular life. If you accept her as your concubine, you will still be able to exchange ideas with her.”
The ice in the Yellow Raven’s gaze made Nagihiko shiver. He was scared now, not angry. “Why did you permit this?” he asked.
The Yellow Raven frowned.
“This is a serious change in imperial policy,” Nagihiko said. “You approved it. That means you want it. Why?”
“You seem to be under the impression that I control everything,” the Yellow Raven said. “Laws that are imposed by force are less effective. There was a choice before me, and I selected one that made sense. You should be happy. You could make her your empress, you know. Then she’d have the power to change things the way that she wants.”
“Liar,” Nagihiko said. “If that happened—and there’s no way it would—she would have no power. If you presented this plan to her, she would laugh in your face. It is an insult to her and to myself.”
The Yellow Raven’s eyes narrowed.
“You understand nothing,” Nagihiko said. “Or at least, you pretend to. Making Sumio my concubine would cage her.”
As the duchesses of Sakura Palace were caged. He had never consciously thought that before.
“Sumio is a free, fierce, intelligent woman,” Nagihiko said.
The Yellow Raven stood up behind his desk.
“You are the cleverest man in Yamauchi. How can you not understand that?” Nagihiko asked.
The Yellow Raven strode forward, grabbed Nagihiko by the collar, and swept his legs out from under him.
Nagihiko didn’t have time to cry out before he fell. He braced himself, thinking that he would slam down onto the hard stone floor in mere moments, but that didn’t happen. The Yellow Raven lowered him gently to the ground and pinned him there, still holding his collar.
“You assume that I care if Sumio is happy,” the Yellow Raven said, his face an impassive mask. “I don’t.” His voice was so cloying that Nagihiko felt like it might stick to his shoes. “I spoke of choices. One is before you, Your Imperial Majesty.” He adjusted his grip on Nagihiko’s collar. “How would you like to kill that free, fierce, intelligent woman with your own hands?”
“What?” Nagihiko gasped.
The Yellow Raven bent down and whispered in his ear, “Sumio is Princess Shion.”
Princess Shion.
Nagihiko was so stunned that he thought he’d heard the Yellow Raven wrong. Princess Shion was Emperor Nazukihiko’s daughter. She’d been missing for many years. Her father had wanted her to become Yamauchi’s first ruling empress.
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Nagihiko half-convinced himself that the Yellow Raven was joking. How could an imperial princess who had fled with her mother possibly come to the Imperial Court? Why would she take such a foolish risk?
“I could not possibly mistake her for anyone else,” the Yellow Raven said. His face contorted in a strange grin. “I believe that Empress Hamayū and Duchess Masuho no Susuki made up Aoi’s existence entirely. I don’t think the girl ever existed,” he said in a confidential whisper.
The records of Aoi’s birth were correct and complete; there was nothing suspicious about them. The Yellow Raven suspected that Hamayū and Masuho no Susuki had conjured the story of a twin for Akane just in case Princess Shion ever needed a false identity. They were clever enough to plan ahead like that. Even in the early days of peace during Emperor Nazukihiko’s rule, they’d been planning for his daughter’s future.
The Yellow Raven hadn’t dared trust them since Nazukihiko died.
“I do not know what misunderstanding led her to become a rakujō, but she could easily become a threat to us all. Quietly take her as a concubine. If we keep her under control, we will not have to kill her.”
The Yellow Raven was serious.
Nagihiko was confused. This information was new to him. If Sumio was Princess Shion, that would make her his niece. Marrying her or taking her as a concubine would be out of the question.
The Yellow Raven smiled cruelly.
“Isn’t it all tidy and convenient? If you are a worthy Souke scion, a true Golden Raven may be born.” His tone was disturbingly cheerful.
“Do you wish to meet my elder brother once more?” Nagihiko asked before he could think.
He had heard that true Golden Ravens inherited the memories of their predecessors. He suspected that Sessai wanted Nazukihiko, whom he had once served, to return.
The Yellow Raven looked at him as if he’d said something profoundly stupid. “I don’t care if the true Golden Raven has any memories of his past life at all,” he said. “It is his power that is needed now. No one can mend the holes in our world except for a true Golden Raven. It might be possible to stave off Yamauchi’s destruction, at least for a little while.
“You misunderstand your own position. You are special merely because you are a son of Souke. You are not a true Golden Raven. You have no power to save Yamauchi. You are a fool who puts on airs. Your attendants don’t even obey your orders. They obey mine.”
The Yellow Raven shrugged. “Overall, that is a fortunate thing. You hold no power, so you bear no responsibility. You are free from the heavy burden that all true rulers bear. I promise that I shall carry that burden in your place. Just keep being a good ruler, and you will be fine.”
Nagihiko gasped. “Your definition of ‘good ruler’ is ‘ruler that is convenient for you to manipulate.’”
The Yellow Raven grinned broadly. “I feel like we finally understand each other.” His smile collapsed at the corners. “Hurry up and get an heir. That is the only reason you exist.”
He released Nagihiko’s collar and stood up, his posture perfect.
Nagihiko lay pathetically sprawled on the floor like a piece of trash.
The Yellow Raven adjusted his clothing and then knocked on his closed door. “His Imperial Majesty is coming out,” he said to the soldiers assigned to guard the door.
Haruma came rushing into the office and helped Nagihiko rise.
“What did Lord Sessai say to you?” Haruma asked, his forehead puckered in concern.
Nagihiko didn’t know what to say. He felt so powerless that even bursting into tears was beyond him.
He and the duchesses were tools to produce the next true Golden Raven. Nothing more.
It didn’t matter what Nagihiko wanted. He had never mattered to the Yellow Raven. How cruel the man was!
Nagihiko’s steps were unsteady as he returned to his chambers. Attendants flanked him on either side as he passed through the Imperial Hall. He heard the door of the Yellow Raven’s office close with a muffled thump behind him.
Nagihiko was as caged as Sumio and the duchesses: a captive prince within a mountain fortress surrounded by walls of stone.
***
“Sumio shall be a concubine?”
When Akihiro heard this news from his father, the Lord of Souke, his first thought was to wonder if he was in his right mind.
He glanced at his uncle Sumio beside him to gauge his reaction. Sumio was neither surprised nor humbled. He looked like he’d just been told the least amusing joke in the world.
The Saike family had all gathered in their city residence to await Sumio’s judgment. Akihiro had been praying that she would only be dismissed from her position. Harsher punishments were possible, but he didn’t want to think about those. Whatever her punishment would be, Akihiro had hoped that it wouldn’t bring ruin on the rest of his family.
His prayers had been answered, in a sense. No one had expected that Sumio would be made a concubine. He didn’t understand the rationale behind such a punishment. He looked at his father and asked if there had been a mistake.
“It’s true,” the Lord of Saike said in a dejected tone. “If she were simply dismissed from office, she would have to live as a man for the rest of her life, and she would have no career prospects, at least not in the government. Becoming the emperor’s concubine will allow her to return to secular life as Aoi.”
“But then what will happen to Katsura no Hana?” Akihiro asked. “She’s already in Sakura Palace.”
Akihiro hated the thought that his younger sister would suffer because of this debacle. She had done nothing wrong.
“Katsura no Hana will remain where she is,” the Lord of Saike said. “Everything about this situation is exceptional. His Imperial Majesty likes Sumio. She would not enter Sakura Palace as a candidate to become the empress. She would be employed as one of Katsura no Hana’s attendants. When the emperor takes a legal wife, he will also take Aoi as a concubine. What do you think, Sumio?”
Sumio replied with an unenthusiastic, “Ha. If this was the Yellow Raven’s idea, his cognitive faculties are slipping. Are we sure that ants didn’t crawl in his ears and nibble away at his brain during an afternoon nap?”
“What?” Akihiro was bewildered by such an outrageous remark. “Why is it such a terrible idea? Aoi’s future would be better as the emperor’s concubine than as a disgraced rakujō. You said yourself that the emperor was intelligent and kind, Uncle Sumio.”
The meeting in the Imperial Hall had felt interminable to Akihiro, but he had learned that the emperor favored his eccentric cousin. That had to count for something. He didn’t know what his cousin would do if she were dismissed from her position. Becoming the emperor’s concubine seemed like a good opportunity to him.
As Nagihiko’s concubine, Aoi would be able to influence imperial policy. She might be able to change things for the better, like she’d always wanted. That would be a better use of her time than sitting idle at home or marrying some rich nobleman.
“Leave all the preparations to me,” Akihiro said. “I will let our attendants know that Sumio is to be a lady-in-waiting. The women of this house will gladly show off their skill to make sure that she is respected.”
Sumio was a strange girl, but she was exceptionally beautiful. It wouldn’t be difficult for her to look the part of a concubine.
Akihiro’s uncle Sumio said nothing in reply.
The Lord of Saike sighed heavily. Akihiro had never seen him look so grim. “This is an unofficial directive, but there is no reason to refuse it,” he said.
When Sumio had decided to become a rakujō, her parents had supported her as much as they could. The Lord of Saike had also instructed the family to help her.
Sumio the rakujō had repaid their support with scandal and infamy. What would the Lord of Saike do if she made selfish demands now? Akihiro braced himself for his uncle Sumio’s reply.
“You think we must accept the loss, then?” Sumio asked. He sighed.
His uncle showed more sense than Akihiro had hoped for. He had expected his uncle to fight the emperor’s directive with everything he had.
“I know that you worked very hard in order to pass the civil service examination,” Akihiro said to his wayward cousin. “And that uproar over the glitter prints—surely you had your own reasons for it. You have accomplished a great deal in the Imperial Court during your brief time there. That is something you should take pride in for the rest of your life.”
“I intend to,” Sumio the rakujō said. She wasn’t looking at Akihiro.
Her father looked at Sumio. “I offer my heartfelt respect for your efforts. You gave your all for the sake of the people of Yamauchi. But this is the limit of what we can do for you.”
His daughter let out a long breath. “I understand.” She turned to face the Lord of Saike. Then she rose to her feet and bowed deeply.
“I offer you all my heartfelt gratitude,” she said. “I made many selfish requests, and the Saike family helped me every time. You have given me more than I could have hoped for.”
“I am sorry that we could not be of greater help,” the Lord of Saike said.
Akihiro felt a slight sense of incongruity. He thought both of them were strangely stiff and formal.
Sumio lifted her head, and her smile was as radiant as ever. “I believe I have done what I needed to do. I have no regrets.”
***
Nobuki received orders: “Identify any persons attempting to make contact with the rakujō.”
Nobuki was a Yamauchishu from a low-ranked noble family that was distantly related to the Nanke family. He had just barely managed to graduate from the Keisōin four years ago. He’d completed his mandatory duty of provincial service at a guard post on the border of Nanke Territory a short while ago. The Yellow Raven was his commander now, but he’d only completed a handful of assignments for him.
His classmates with better grades and practical skills had gone to the human world to study abroad. Some of them had become personal guards of the emperor. Nobuki had caught the eye of the head of the imperial archivists recently, so he was hoping for better assignments to come his way soon. No one knew he worked for the Yellow Raven directly. All the orders he received were given to him in secret, behind closed doors.
The rakujō had been considered a problem to Nobuki’s superiors for quite some time. Nobuki knew why; she just kept causing trouble. Her family had every reason to hate the Yellow Raven. They were being watched, of course. The rakujō herself had drawn special notice from the Yellow Raven over the past few months. Nobuki wasn’t the only one investigating her movements.
Nobuki had been tasked with keeping track of her contacts after she had created an authorized glitter print. She’d insisted that the incident was all her fault, but the Yellow Raven suspected that she was collaborating with other people. It was even possible that she was being manipulated by someone else. She was too visible and too obvious with her disruptions. The Yellow Raven thought that she might just be a distraction. Someone else might be using the chaos she kept causing as a smoke screen for their own illegal acts.
The rakujō’s previous contact with other government officials was being investigated by others. Nobuki was stuck watching the woman and waiting for her to contact people.
To Nobuki’s great surprise, the rakujō managed to avoid severe punishment for manufacturing an unauthorized glitter print. There were rumors that she might become the emperor’s concubine.
Nobuki was commanded to keep a closer watch on the rakujō after that rumor started spreading.
He wished she would do something interesting. As far as Nobuki could tell, she had obeyed the order to remain within the bounds of the Lord of Saike’s city estate. Reporting on how she spent her time at the estate was someone else’s responsibility.
Nobuki was supposed to check if any suspicious characters visited the rakujō, but she had received no visitors. He had three subordinates working under him. Today, they’d all worked to verify the identity of drapers and grocers that had delivered vegetables and textiles to the estate.
Nobuki was not very enthusiastic about this job. He doubted that there was someone manipulating the rakujō. The rakujō herself was like any other spoiled, pampered noblewoman. He thought that the unauthorized glitter print fiasco was rather quaint. She was offended by injustice, but clumsy at doing anything to correct it. He felt like watching her was wasted effort.
She should just become a concubine already—or not. Either way, Nobuki’s assignment would end, and he could do something better with his time. For now, he was stuck watching the Lord of Saike’s city estate. He usually stayed in a detached residence—little more than a hut, really—where estate servants lived.
The estate itself belonged to the Lord of Saike, but the Yellow Raven had seeded his people into the estate. If push came to shove, everyone inside would obey the Yellow Raven’s commands.
Nobuki carried out his usual duties and then went to his hut to take a nap. He was awakened by one of his subordinates a bit later. This subordinate was tasked with watching the ways in and out of the estate.
“What is it?” Nobuki asked.
“Someone wearing a feather robe has come outside. They are heading toward the stable. It might be the rakujō.”
Nobuki hurried outside. His subordinate led him to a gap in the fence near the stables. It was hard to see, but the moon illuminated a slender figure walking with a feather robe draped messily over their shoulders.
It looked like the rakujō. Nobuki would have to get closer to be sure.
She had never gone outside the estate’s wall before. If this was her, then what was she doing?”
“What shall we do?” Nobuki’s subordinate asked.
Nobuki licked his lips. It would be easy to seize this person. If it was her, he had orders to prevent her from leaving the estate. And if it wasn’t, he could apologize and let the Yellow Raven sort things out.
Accosting her now meant missing out on information, however. Nobuki wanted to know where she was going. Maybe she would finally do something interesting.
“Identify any persons attempting to make contact with the rakujō.” Those were his orders.
“Follow her, but keep your distance. Bring the horses,” Nobuki said.
***
The moon was bright tonight, but tailing the slender figure was no easy task. Nobuki was convinced that they were following the rakujō now. Who else would leave the estate at this time of night? Their footsteps were also small and dainty like a woman’s.
Nobuki couldn’t let her notice him, or he wouldn’t learn anything. He flew along on horseback, keeping just close enough to see her. He considered what would happen after she stopped. She was on horseback, so she wouldn’t be able to descend just anywhere. It was risky to follow her on a horse; she might catch sight of him when he landed, even in the dark.
The worst outcome would be to lose sight of her. If that happened, he’d have chased her for nothing. If she had sneaked out to meet someone in secret, then the best possible outcome was for him to discover who that person was without being discovered himself.
If that proved difficult, he could apprehend her and whoever she was meeting. That wouldn’t be ideal, but he’d likely be rewarded if he managed it.
Nobuki kept his orders in mind and followed after the rakujō quietly.
The rakujō showed no sign that she knew she was being followed. She descended at the side of a main road, so Nobuki didn’t struggle to find a place to land. They were close to Clear Mirror Temple’s carriage yard.
Could this be it? Nobuki thought. His heart pounded in his ears. He had heard that the rakujō might have contacts at Clear Mirror Temple, but she had never been seen there.
Nobuki entrusted his horse to the subordinate who’d followed him and then chased after the rakujō. He’d assumed that she would go straight to the temple, but she was taking a meandering route. Nobuki was bewildered when he saw her enter the forest around Clear Mirror Temple. That forest surrounded a forbidden zone. Entry was prohibited to everyone except for priests and the emperor.
The rakujō’s presence near a forbidden zone was highly suspicious. It would be troublesome to lose sight of her in the trees, so Nobuki risked getting closer to her.
There was a narrow game trail through the woods that the rakujō was following. Did she know where she was going? She didn’t act like a woman who was lost. At some point, she removed her feather robe, though Nobuki didn’t see her do it. Her pale blue imperial court uniform was faintly luminescent in the moonlight.
Nobuki felt like he was following a ghost as he tracked her carefully through the forest. A shiver went up his spine.
It was autumn, and nights were cold. Nobuki took a moment to be grateful that all the mosquitoes of summer were dead and gone. His footing was poor, though, and he nearly fell several times. He’d been walking so long that he started sweating.
Then Nobuki heard a low, heavy sound and stood still.
There was a waterfall a little ahead of the rakujō. Nobuki recognized Ōtaki Falls, which was the tallest and broadest waterfall in all of Yamauchi. The priests of Clear Mirror Temple used it for purification rituals. Sometimes nobles viewed the waterfall from horseback, but permission had to be granted by a priest. Approaching Ōtaki Falls on foot without permission was forbidden.
This was a secluded spot. Nobuki wondered if the rakujō had chosen it so that she wouldn’t be observed. That struck him as unusually cautious. The rakujō didn’t seem like a cautious woman.
The trees thinned as Nobuki came closer to the waterfall. He hid himself behind a rock and watched the rakujō. He heard nothing but the roar of the water. Smooth stones shone in the light of the full moon. Mulberry paper streamers tied to an altar fluttered in the wind.
The rakujō stopped walking and lifted her face to the moon. There was no one else present but her. She placed a small stone on a larger rock, then removed a small object from her breast pocket. She placed it beside the small stone.
Was she leaving a letter here for her contact to collect? That seemed likely. Maybe Nobuki should retrieve the letter tonight and take it back to his superiors? Or should he wait here and see who came to collect it?
Nobuki expected the rakujō to leave after delivering her message, but she kept walking toward the top of the waterfall.
Would she jump?
Nobuki couldn’t take that risk. He jumped out from behind the rock and called out, “Stop!”
The rakujō spun around in surprise. Then she smiled serenely. “Are you one of the Yellow Raven’s men?” she asked.
Her perfectly composed manner deepened Nobuki’s sense of foreboding. “I was just passing by when I saw someone approaching the waterfall. No one should be here, miss. I can walk you back to the temple.” He tried to say this naturally and casually so that she wouldn’t suspect him.
“You’ve gone to quite a lot of trouble to follow me,” she said. “Give the Yellow Raven a message for me. Tell him that things don’t always go according to plan.”
She whirled around and sprinted for the top of the waterfall. Then she threw herself over the edge.
“Wait! You can’t!” Nobuki screamed. He skidded to a halt at the top of the waterfall. The sun had set, so he couldn’t transform. He didn’t have his horse with him, either, so he couldn’t follow her down and try to catch her before she hit the bottom of the waterfall basin.
Far below, Nobuki saw the rakujō’s pale blue attendant uniform floating on the surface of the water. Then it sank into darkness.
***
Bathed in the white light of hanging lanterns, golden bells shone with an eerie brilliance. Those bells reminded Nagihiko of ripening fruit as he walked through Sakura Palace. He was surrounded by Fujimiyaren.
When he had first come to Sakura Palace, it had still been spring. His arrival at Sakura Palace for the first time felt like a memory from the distant past, but it had only happened a few months ago.
The Fujimiyaren came to halt at the end of the hallway decorated with bells. The door to the Summer Hall was in front of them.
“His Imperial Majesty has arrived,” one of the Fujimiyaren announced.
The door of the Summer Hall opened from the inside. Duchess Hotaru of Nanke stood in the center of the room beyond the door, her eyes downcast.
Nagihiko offered her a tentative smile. “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Duchess Hotaru.”
***
Nagihiko hadn’t visited Hotaru for months. There was a tense awkwardness between them. He hadn’t meant to leave her alone for so long, but he hadn’t been allowed to see her while her birth family was under investigation for abusing their tenant farmers. Her birth family’s actions had endangered Hotaru’s position in Sakura Palace.
After Sumio’s sudden death, the Yellow Raven had dispatched Yoshimichi to the provinces. Hotaru’s family had not been abolished completely, but the manager in charge of the cotton fields had been fired and barred from doing similar work. Yoshimichi was going to Nanke Territory to take that man’s place.
Nagihiko thought it strange for one of the emperor’s attendants to take a position managing cotton fields, but he wasn’t permitted to oppose the change. The Yellow Raven had commanded it, so Yoshimichi would go. Nagihiko knew that Yoshimichi had been demoted and sent away because he had helped Nagihiko and Sumio. Nagihiko’s reckless opposition to the Yellow Raven had led to Yoshimichi being sent away from him, possibly forever.
When Yoshimichi came to say goodbye, he gripped Nagihiko’s hand and said, “Please do not lose, Your Imperial Majesty. No matter how far apart we may be, do not forget that I am always on your side. I always will be, even if we never meet again.”
As Yoshimichi departed, it felt as though half of Nagihiko were being torn away. His new personal attendant entered then and gave him a cheerful smile. “It is impossible to take Lord Yoshimichi’s place, but I will serve you with all sincerity, Your Imperial Majesty. I will do my utmost so that you can be the splendid Golden Raven that the Yellow Raven desires.”
Nagihiko knew then that there was no escape from the Yellow Raven.
His own circumstances troubled him, but Nagihiko thought about Sumio more often than himself. He hadn’t been allowed to send her any messages, not even when the empress and the Yellow Raven decided to make her his concubine. He knew that Sumio would never meekly submit to becoming a concubine, but he’d never imagined what she would do in response.
Before hearing of her death, he had prayed that Sumio wouldn’t succumb to despair. Those prayers had proved meaningless.
Nagihiko still hadn’t accepted the fact that Sumio was dead. He didn’t believe that Sumio would choose suicide. He hoped that she was only pretending to be dead. Maybe she was hiding somewhere. Maybe she was safe.
At the same time, Nagihiko was forced to acknowledge her absence every single day. Refusing to accept her death was selfish. If he allowed himself to believe that she was dead, he would have to accept his own guilt. Everything was his fault. He should have tried to help Sumio more. He hadn’t been able to protect her from the Yellow Raven. He hadn’t even been able to protect himself.
Nagihiko thought that when the day came when he could no longer deny that Sumio was dead, something inside him would be damaged beyond repair.
The Imperial Court barely reacted to Sumio’s death. Nagihiko heard that her family mourned her passing and that some officials made sympathetic noises in their direction, but that was all. Sumio was never mentioned during meetings in the Imperial Hall. The issue of the corrupt management of the cotton fields in Nanke Territory was quietly dropped. The new investigation began and ended with the dismissal of the manager that Yoshimichi had replaced. No one else was punished or held accountable. Clear Mirror Temple’s numerous petitions from commoners remained buried.
Sumio and Nagihiko had risked their lives to create change in Yamauchi, but in the end, nothing changed at all.
Aside from Sumio’s family, the only person who grieved her death was Empress Asebi.
“I should never have entertained the idea of making her a concubine,” Asebi said through tears as she apologized to her son. “I thought that she might be a good companion for you. I thought you were good friends. I wanted you to know the joy of love. I am so sorry that I ended up hurting you this way, my dear child.”
Nagihiko shook his head. “None of this is your fault, Mother. This happened because I couldn’t stop it. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.” He felt like he was being crushed by a growing sense of helplessness.
His new personal attendant let him know that the Yellow Raven expected him to visit the Summer Hall. Nagihiko no longer had the conviction or the strength to refuse.
Nothing about Nagihiko’s world had changed. It was almost like Sumio had never existed.
He didn’t know how to talk to Duchess Hotaru anymore. She accepted his visit as was expected, but he didn’t know what he would say to her.
***
Nagihiko and Hotaru sat down and drank rice wine in silence. Hotaru opened her mouth to speak first, but she said nothing.
“You may say whatever you wish,” Nagihiko said quietly.
She nodded. “Your Imperial Majesty, why didn’t you come to see me?”
She sounded sad. Nagihiko hadn’t expected that.
“I have been waiting for you all this time.” She covered her face with her hands.
Nagihiko had never seen Hotaru show real emotion before. She was always so composed.
“I have no one but you, Emperor Nagihiko!” She sobbed into her palms.
Nagihiko rushed to Hotaru’s side. After a slight hesitation, he rubbed her shoulder. “I was wrong, Hotaru. I was too thoughtless and foolish.”
Hotaru clung to Nagihiko, crying even harder.
The last few months had been a trial for her, but she still trusted Nagihiko. She’d waited for him. Nagihiko was disgusted by his lack of consideration for her. The duchesses of Sakura Palace had no power of their own. Their hopes and dreams depended on him.
As he held Hotaru close, Nagihiko was on the verge of tears.
Hotaru sniffled and then whispered in his ear, “Sumio is alive.”
Nagihiko’s heart skipped a beat. He stared at Hotaru. “You—”
Hotaru gently placed a finger to his lips. There were no tears in her eyes now, and her expression was almost cheerful. She glanced toward the room next door where her attendants were waiting.
He nodded in understanding. They were being spied on.
Hotaru smiled. “I have a message. This is what she wrote: ‘I am sorry that things have come to this. I didn’t do this because I dislike you, Your Imperial Majesty. Please do not be troubled.’”
Nagihiko’s shoulders slumped. Hotaru reached out to support him so that he wouldn’t fall over. He covered his mouth with trembling hands.
“She’s alive,” he whispered. He felt like the dark veil over his thoughts had lifted. He sucked in a breath. There were so many things that he wanted to ask Hotaru.
Hotaru leaned in and whispered, “Sumio has supporters in Clear Mirror Temple. Prince Natsuka and Duchess Nadeshiko are helping her in secret.”
Nadeshiko was the Lord of Nanke’s oldest daughter. Nagihiko had heard that she’d lost her mind after Prince Natsuka had refused to marry her.
“Duchess Nadeshiko has never been insane,” Hotaru said, still whispering. “It was always an act. I sympathized with her even before I knew that, so I tried to help her. I am cooperating with Clear Mirror Temple, as are several others. There is almost nothing we can do right now.” She gave Nagihiko a soft smile.
Nagihiko thought, That can’t be true. Hotaru had already done so much. She had told him that Sumio wasn’t dead. She had given him hope.
“How is Duchess Nadeshiko involved?” Nagihiko whispered to Hotaru.
“Empress Takako and Duchess Nadeshiko were both used as tools by their families,” Hotaru whispered back. “They had no choice but to act as they did. Nadeshiko told me not to let the Nanke family make me into their tool. It has to stop. I refuse to sacrifice my life for the sake of the Nanke family. No one should be sacrificed on the altar of duty like that.” She smiled. “The four duchesses of Sakura Palace are more similar than you might think. We’re like chicks from the same nest.
“I have decided to do what I can,” Hotaru said, still speaking quietly. “I will resist becoming anyone’s tool.” Her eyes were clear and full of determination. “I wonder… perhaps you feel the same?”
Nagihiko nodded. Tears gathered in his eyes. “Yes. I feel exactly the same way as you.”
Hotaru smiled at him. “When I heard what had happened during that meeting in the Imperial Hall, I feared for you. I am not in love with you, but I feel like we share many of the same hardships.”
Nagihiko felt much stronger all of a sudden. Having Hotaru as an ally bolstered him.
Hotaru’s smile softened. “The head priest of Clear Mirror Temple is also concerned about you.”
Nagihiko gasped. “I thought my brother hated me.”
“He doesn’t. He worries about you because he’s not allowed to see you. That vexes him to no end. He told me that there are responsibilities that only Souke nobles understand. It is not easy for anyone to be an emperor. If you wish it, Prince Natsuka would offer you his support as your brother.”
Nagihiko felt strangely touched by this. He nodded.
“What Your Majesty and Sumio did was important. There are many besides Sumio who have concerns about Lord Sessai’s methods.”
Hotaru squeezed Nagihiko’s hand tightly to encourage him.
***
“Yellow Raven, did you let her escape?” Haruma asked.
They were in the Yellow Raven’s office in the middle of the afternoon. The Yellow Raven was reading paperwork as usual.
The Yellow Raven looked up at him with genuine annoyance. “Don’t be ridiculous. You were the one who assigned that incompetent buffoon to keep watch on her.”
“But you didn’t oppose his appointment to the role.”
“What do you take me for?” the Yellow Raven asked, exasperated.
“A tactical genius,” Haruma said calmly. “If you let her escape, you have a reason for it. There is always a reason for everything you do.”
Sumio’s body was never found. The Saike family was making a fuss about that, but the Yellow Raven didn’t care. He knew as well as Haruma did that Sumio wasn’t dead.
Nobuki had reported Sumio’s dive from the top of the waterfall with the ashen face of a dead man walking. If he’d had more Yamauchishu assisting him, Sumio would never have thrown herself from the top of Ōtaki Falls.
Haruma had assigned Nobuki to watch Sumio, but he’d expected the Yellow Raven to make additional arrangements. He was a bit concerned that the Yellow Raven had allowed Sumio to slip through his net of surveillance.
The Yellow Raven scowled at his paperwork. “It wasn’t exactly on purpose, but I thought it wouldn’t be so bad to let her roam free for a little longer. I can retrieve her at any time.
Haruma nodded. “I see. So that was your plan.”
“There are more Kuisaru among the nobility than I expected,” the Yellow Raven said. He sighed.
“I’m not surprised,” Haruma said.
Anyone that threatened Yamauchi’s existence was a Kuisaru. Sumio’s penchant for causing chaos would draw more hidden Kuisaru out of hiding. Letting her move freely had several advantages.
“Let’s just say she escaped for now. We’ll gather more evidence and root them all out.”
“Understood.”
Sumio seemed to think that Yamauchi’s common people would stage a large-scale rebellion. Most of the Imperial Court dismissed that idea as nonsensical. There was unrest in various places, but there always had been. There were no serious threats to imperial power.
“According to scholars in the human world, when a regime is toppled by the people, the release of captured rebels is considered an important feature.”
Releasing the captured horses from the Valley would likely be extremely dangerous.
Haruma made a suggestion about that while watching the Yellow Raven’s face.
“The dam being built by the horses from the Valley will soon be completed. We can take precautionary measures before something drastic happens.”
“Stop,” the Yellow Raven said. “I’d rather not kill them, if possible.”
Haruma nodded. “Let’s try not to. I’m sorry if I spoke out of turn. I know you have a lot on your mind.”
“Your concern is valid,” the Yellow Raven said wearily. “We must prepare for every situation that we can foresee.”
Haruma knew what he meant. They’d done this kind of planning before. They had to create countermeasures to prevent the worst outcomes. If those outcomes happened anyway, they needed a mitigation plan.
“I will prepare preliminary plans at once,” Haruma said.
The Yellow Raven set down his writing brush and stretched out over his desk like a man who was sick of everything.
“We should take a break,” Haruma said. He started brewing tea for himself and the Yellow Raven.
One of the Yellow Raven’s guards knocked on the closed door of his office. “There is urgent news from the human world,” the guard said from behind the door.
Haruma opened the door and accepted a message scroll from the guard. He shut the office door again and brought the scroll to the Yellow Raven.
The message wasn’t long. Detailed information would come later.
The Yellow Raven rubbed his eyes.
“More trouble?” Haruma asked.
“No, it’s the opposite. This is good news, for once. We’ve just received word from the King of the Tengu. The rights to Mt. Ara have passed from father to son. It is possible that we will be able to acquire them.”
Haruma froze still. Mt. Ara connected the human world to the mountain god’s divine realm, and to Yamauchi. It had been impossible to negotiate for the rights to Mt. Ara for the past two decades. The Yellow Raven had been trying to acquire them for that long to keep Yamauchi safe from discovery by humans.
The Yellow Raven rested his head in his hands and stared between the gaps in his fingers.
“What do we need to do to acquire those rights?” Haruma asked.
“I don’t think it will be difficult,” the Yellow Raven said. “The mountain’s new owner is a penniless drifter.”
The Yatagarasu didn’t have very much human money, but they had ways of acquiring more. Buying the rights to Mt. Ara would be difficult, but not impossible. Buying them outright would be easiest for everyone involved, but if that failed, negotiation was still possible.
“The man’s name is Yasuhara Hajime.”
***
“It’s a shame about Sumio. Please don’t be too sad, Tawara no Jō.”
A low-ranked government official handed a piece of candy to him.
Tawara no Jō accepted it with an awkward smile. “Uh, thank you for your concern.”
The man speaking to him was a colleague that he’d shared tea and sweets with once or twice. He’d practically showered Sumio with candy during her short tenure in the Imperial Court.
Tawara no Jō had been fending off sympathizers since the rumor that Sumio had killed herself started spreading. Tawara no Jō was bewildered by all the attention. Sumio hadn’t been his friend, after all. He’d been prepared to be cursed by Sumio’s many devotees, but everyone treated him with kindness.
“I never dreamed something like that would happen. That beautiful woman dying so young is a loss to the world.”
Tawara no Jō wanted to shout some sense into the man. He’d given solemn replies to many of the people grieving Sumio’s death, but inwardly he was shouting, She was awful! No one should admire her!
***
Tawara no Jō remembered Sumio saying, “I will do what I can,” like a mantra.
“I cannot blame a person for doing nothing when they are ignorant of how bad a situation is, but I think that knowledge confers some level of personal responsibility. I believe that the worst people know how terrible things are and pretend that they don’t. Are you that kind of person, Tawara no Jō?”
That accusation stung him now. It hadn’t when she’d first said it. But he was no longer ignorant.
“If conditions in Yamauchi keep deteriorating, you won’t be able to buy your next meal, Tawara no Jō,” she said to him. “People suffer directly under your nose, and you pretend not to see them. Those people are going hungry now. This situation isn’t tenable. It will change for the worse, sooner rather than later.”
Tawara no Jō asked her what she planned to do about the nobles who were directly causing the suffering. “You won’t be able to talk them out of exploiting people,” he said.
“I don’t need to,” Sumio said. “All I need to do is get them to admit that they weren’t ignorant. That they allowed the suffering to happen, and that they had full knowledge of it. I believe that if they are confronted head-on, there may be some nobles who wish to change the situation. Making friends out of enemies is a common tactic. I need more friends if I’m going to change the world.”
She always said the most ridiculous things with a straight face.
Tawara no Jō groaned and stepped away from her as if she had a contagious disease. “You said you didn’t come here to fight the Yellow Raven, but that’s exactly what you came here to do.”
Sumio laughed lightly. “As if I would be satisfied with a straightforward fight! I came here to change everything. That’s why I’m here. It’s the Imperial Court’s fault for making me so angry.”
She looked at him then, staring into his eyes. “I beg you, Lord Tawara no Jō. If you feel even the slightest sense of unease about the way things are, then please help me. Please do whatever you can.”
She told him when she wanted him to report the unauthorized glitter print, and to who.
“We only need to wait a little longer,” she said. “After that, we’ll manage somehow. We have a lot of options on how to proceed.”
Tawara no Jō said that her issues were none of his concern and that he would do as he pleased. In all honesty, he’d agonized about what to do a great deal.
While looking over records of Kuisaru attacks at Sumio’s behest, Tawara no Jō noticed something strange. During the past several years, the people and places harmed by the Kuisaru were all enemies of the Yellow Raven.
Survivors from the Valley who’d made complaints to the Imperial Court were killed in Kuisaru attacks. People who’d sheltered them suffered hardships, like their homes burning down in Kuisaru attacks. Officials suspected of attempting to assassinate the Yellow Raven were killed in sudden Kuisaru raids.
The Kuisaru always appeared in places where it was most convenient to the Yellow Raven.
When the Yellow Raven had said, “People are idiots,” in the middle of his argument with Sumio, Tawara no Jō knew that to be the truth. The pattern of Kuisaru attacks was blindingly obvious. Why hadn’t it been noticed before?
At the end of that conversation, Sumio had asked Tawara no Jō to hold off on making his report about the unauthorized glitter print for a little longer.
Tawara no Jō disagreed with Sumio on many things, but they agreed that making real changes to Yamauchi wouldn’t be easy. After looking through the records, Tawara no Jō wasn’t sure that the Yellow Raven’s power was as unshakable as everyone else believed.
“Do what you can, Princess Shion,” Tawara no Jō mumbled under his breath. He lightly slapped his own cheek and then stood up. Then he went back into the imperial archives to sort through glitter prints.
No comments:
Post a Comment