Yatagarasu Series
Volume 2:
The Raven Does Not
Choose Its Master
Author: Chisato Abe
VOLUME 2 - MASTER POST
Part 2: The Foolish Crown Prince
Things have certainly taken a strange turn, the Lord of Hokke thought as he cast surreptitious glances around the Imperial Hall.
The Imperial Hall was indoors, but it was spacious and brightly lit. The floor was polished hardwood that gleamed in the afternoon sun. The throne of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor was set several steps higher than the rest of the hall’s seating. A jeweled curtain partially concealed the Emperor’s throne from view.
The Lords of the Four Families sat in their assigned seats below the throne. They were dressed for a formal audience in scarlet robes. Prince Natsuka was also present in the hall, dressed in purple ceremonial robes and a priest’s stole made out of cloth-of-gold.
The walls of the Imperial Hall were decorated with mother-of-pearl inlays that depicted seasonal flowers and important rituals. These inlays were set into a thick layer of shiny black lacquer. Narrow windows lined the top of the hall on all sides. Silver bells hung from purple cords attached to crossbars built into the wall just beneath the windows. A deep purple tapestry of a wisteria plant hanging beneath the rising sun hung from one wall. The sunlight was made with gold thread in the tapestry, which depicted the imperial seal.
All of the exquisite details in the Imperial Hall were clearly visible thanks to the high windows and dozens of hanging lanterns hanging in rows. The light from the lanterns was bright and even and never flickered.
Below the seats of the four lords there was additional seating for court officials. Most of these seats were full.
The room’s attention was on a woman who wore the same official attire as the men present, though she wore no crown or other mark of rank. The woman had a clean, well-defined face and sharp, determined eyes. Her straight black hair was cut short. Women like her were called rakujō. They worked at the Imperial Court in men’s roles, forsaking their birth sex.
Becoming a rakujō was irreversible. Women who elected to become rakujō would never be seen as women again. In exchange, they were treated equally to men in the Imperial Court. The rakujō standing before the assembled lords and officials went by the male name Shōin. She was attending this meeting not as a woman, but as a male official with equal standing to those sitting in the lowest seats in the hall.
Shōin was the Emperor’s secretary. In this case, it might be more accurate to call her the spokesperson for His Imperial Majesty the Emperor. She had opened the meeting with a statement so incredible that the Lords of the Four Families were speechless.
The Lord of Saike sat to the right of the Lord of Hokke. He broke the uncomfortable silence in the hall. “What are you saying? Does His Imperial Majesty intend to depose the Crown Prince?”
Shōin nodded solemnly, her expression completely unreadable. If the glares she was receiving made her nervous or afraid, she showed no sign of it. “It is as the Lord of Saike says. There is no mistake.”
The Lord of Saike snorted. “That is quite an amusing joke. The matter of which son would inherit the imperial throne was decided a decade ago, or have you forgotten? Why bring it up now?” His deep, resonant laughter echoed in the hall.
No one else laughed.
“I bring it up because it is His Imperial Majesty’s will,” Shōin said. “Will you laugh at the Emperor’s words?”
The Lord of Saike tapped his knee with his ceremonial baton. “If you are truly relating His Imperial Majesty’s will to all of us, I will apologize to you formally. What made me laugh was not the Emperor’s will.”
“It was not? Then what were you laughing at?” Shōin asked.
The Lord of Saike’s dark eyes fixed on Shōin. “I was laughing at your sly way of presenting your own opinion as if it were the will of the Emperor.”
The room fell silent again. The tension between Shōin and the Lord of Saike was palpable. None of the other lords spoke up to support either of them.
Shōin glared at the Lord of Saike. He smiled sarcastically.
“Would the Emperor truly wish to depose the current Crown Prince? Why? It doesn’t make any sense,” the Lord of Saike said. “Obviously you are expressing your own wishes, Secretary Shōin.”
Shōin brushed his words aside. “Don’t be a fool. Are you suggesting that I twisted His Imperial Majesty’s intentions for my own selfish gain?” Shōin laughed and then said she would never do such a thing.
The Lord of Saike did not contradict her.
“Forgive me,” the Lord of Saike said in a clipped tone. “I misspoke. I certainly do not believe that you would say such a thing for selfish purposes. But if, say, Her Imperial Majesty the Empress desired that her son should be the next Golden Raven… well, you see what I mean.”
Shōin’s lips puckered like she was sucking on a lemon.
Someone had to say it, the Lord of Hokke thought. He looked around the room. The Lord of Nanke backed Natsuka, of course; the prince was half-Nanke. He remained silent and left all the talking to Shōin. The Lord of Touke also remained silent, his sharp eyes cleverly observing everything around him.
Shōin supported Natsuka and the Lord of Saike supported Nazukihiko. The Imperial Council was split. This meeting was becoming an impromptu showdown.
It was well-known that most of the rakujō serving in the Imperial Court had formerly served the Empress as close aides. Their loyalty was to Empress Oumurasaki and not the Emperor.
The current Emperor disliked politics and was shy of people. The Empress took advantage of these weaknesses at every turn. She was an extraordinary strategist and Natsuka’s mother. During the political upheaval ten years ago, her faction had backed Natsuka to the bitter end. She had never stopped fighting for her son. It was clear that the Empress was speaking through Shōin even now.
The Empress’ position was well-known, but no one had ever confronted her or Shōin about it directly. They did not dare. The Empress had far more real power in the Imperial Court than the Emperor did. The Emperor bent to the will of the Four Families. The Empress expressed her authority with her family’s full backing.
The Crown Prince’s mother had been Izayoi of Saike. The Lord of Saike was a natural opponent to the Empress, but she was not an enemy that anyone wanted to make. The Lord of Saike was generally cautious and prudent. The Lord of Hokke wondered what had made him speak up now.
“I understand what Empress Oumurasaki is thinking,” the Lord of Saike said. “She intends to depose the Crown Prince and replace him with Prince Natsuka. His Imperial Majesty’s wishes do not matter to her.”
Natsuka’s face was an expressionless mask. The Emperor sat behind him on his throne, concealed by bamboo blinds. He said nothing and made no sound, but he glanced briefly at his eldest son.
The Lord of Saike snorted in contempt. “The Crown Prince was selected as the next heir by the late Emperor, may the mountain god rest his soul. Hakū has already recognized the Crown Prince as the Emperor’s heir apparent.”
Hakū presided over all religious ceremonies and was the arbiter of the Imperial Code of Law. Ten years ago, the faction that had supported Natsuka had given up solely because Hakū had recognized Nazukihiko as the heir.
The Lord of Saike insisted that such recognition could not be revoked.
Shōin raised an eyebrow. “Is that really the case? The current Crown Prince has not undergone the Rite of Investiture. Can he really be called the official heir, then?”
The Lord of Saike opened his mouth to object, but then closed it.
The Rite of Investiture could not be conducted until the Crown Prince chose a consort. The Crown Prince had spent most of his childhood traveling and had only recently returned, so of course the Rite of Investiture hadn’t been conducted yet.
Shōin was not proposing to depose the Crown Prince. She was saying that he had never officially been the Crown Prince in the first place.
“Hakū’s approval is not sufficient to declare an heir,” Shōin said. “Right now, the Emperor has no official heir at all. It was the previous Emperor who wanted the current Crown Prince to be his heir, not the current one. The current Emperor should choose his own heir, as is proper.”
The Lord of Saike made a frustrated sound. “Why bring this up now? Duchesses have been summoned to Sakura Palace. The Crown Prince will choose a consort soon enough. After that, the Rite of Investiture can be conducted and there will be no issue.”
“Please don’t misunderstand,” Shōin said. “His Imperial Majesty did not bring up this matter because of any flaw in the selection process.” Shōin stuck to her position that what she was saying reflected the Emperor’s will. “The Crown Prince returned to Yamauchi two months ago. Everyone present here must already be aware of just how terrible his conduct has been.”
Shōin did not give the Lord of Saike a chance to speak. She said, “Prince Nazukihiko has spent too much time outside Yamauchi. That is why he completely disregards court customs. He does as he pleases with the administrators of the Sun Palace. The noble attendants who were summoned to serve him have been sent away. The scholar appointed by His Imperial Majesty to be the prince’s tutor has yet to even enter the Sun Palace. The Crown Prince has not visited Sakura Palace even once, yet he goes to pleasure houses almost every day.” Shōin blushed slightly.
“Judging by his actions so far, it is hard to believe that the Crown Prince has any intention of ruling Yamauchi in the future. Perhaps it would be best for him to renounce his position now.”
Far from being disheartened by Shōin’s assessment, the Lord of Saike brightened considerably at the mention of Sakura Palace. “As you have said, the Crown Prince has only recently returned. That is why he disregards court traditions; he doesn’t know all of them yet. Perhaps he has not visited Sakura Palace because he has already selected a consort.”
The Lords of the Four Families all reacted in subtle ways to the Lord of Saike’s words. The Lord of Touke smiled enigmatically. The Lord of Nanke frowned a little before smoothing his expression. The Lord of Hokke schooled his face to stillness, but too late; he was more shocked than anyone to learn of the Crown Prince’s unorthodox activities.
The Lord of Hokke understood the Lord of Saike better now. He was being so bold because he was convinced that his daughter would be selected as the Crown Prince’s consort. If that came to pass, then the Rite of Investiture could be performed and the Crown Prince’s place as the Emperor’s heir would be secure. The Duchess of Saike would then become the Empress’ political rival. The Lord of Saike was placing all of his hopes on his daughter. If she was chosen, Saike would have little to fear from the Empress.
If he honestly believes all that, he is a fool, the Lord of Hokke thought. He had always felt that the man was a bit too optimistic, but he had never imagined he was this much of a simpleton.
The Lord of Saike’s plan was not entirely stupid. If the Crown Prince chose the Duchess of Saike as his consort, it would be a shrewd political move. The Lords of Touke and Hokke had not put their support behind Prince Natsuka or Prince Nazukihiko, so the Crown Prince had little to gain or fear from either of them. The Lord of Nanke’s daughter almost certainly would not be selected as a consort for a host of reasons. It would be most expedient for the Crown Prince to choose the Saike duchess.
The Lord of Hokke was not so simple-minded as the Lord of Saike. He recognized that circumstances at Sakura Palace could change at any time. The Lord of Nanke was always plotting something. The Lord of Touke also plotted constantly, but more secretly. The Lord of Hokke had little taste for intrigue, but even he would not be displeased if the Crown Prince selected his adopted daughter, Shiratama, as a consort.
The Crown Prince had shown himself to be unpredictable, and that meant he could choose any of the duchesses. Or none.
Shōin appeared unimpressed by the Lord of Saike’s naïveté. She turned her face away from him deliberately, indicating that she would no longer listen to what he said.
“Lord of Touke,” Shōin said. “What are your thoughts on the current Crown Prince?”
The Lord of Touke didn’t seem to mind being called on suddenly. “I believe that both you and the Lord of Saike have made salient points, Secretary Shōin.” His tone was polite, his smile charming. “Secretary Shōin’s concerns about the Crown Prince’s ability to fulfill his role are valid. The Lord of Saike’s points are also reasonable, though it is too soon to tell what the Crown Prince will actually do.”
The Lord of Hokke wasn’t fooled by the Lord of Touke’s charismatic charm. Touke was known for playing both sides, remaining ambiguous unless they were threatened with violence. They’d been kingmakers in the past by keeping to their usual tactics. They waited for everyone else to commit themselves first before making any decisions.
Shōin was familiar with the Lord of Touke’s methods and did not press him for a direct answer.
“And what does the Lord of Hokke think?” Shōin asked.
“At this stage? Nothing. It is too soon to make a decision regarding the Crown Prince.” He looked at the other lords as he spoke. “I, too, have plenty of complaints to lay at the Crown Prince’s feet, but he has been given no opportunity to present his side, so I cannot say for sure if my grievances are valid.”
The other lords were bureaucrats who hid behind procedure and court ceremony. The Lord of Hokke barely cared about such things. He was a warrior at heart, as were most of his people. He disliked indecision and dithering. He always spoke his mind.
The Lord of Hokke had no personal liking for the Crown Prince, though. “I believe that Prince Natsuka is a fine prince, trustworthy and well-educated. Yamauchi’s future would be bright under his leadership. The Crown Prince has much to answer for. He has not gone to Sakura Palace and he spends his evenings in pleasure houses. His thinking has been shaped by the outside world, not the needs and requirements of Yamauchi’s people. I do not know if he has the resolve and the correct mindset to lead.”
Shōin opened her mouth to say something, but the Lord of Hokke asked her to wait. She nodded.
“I will say only a little more,” the Lord of Hokke said. “Why do we conduct this meeting in the Crown Prince’s absence? Isn’t that cowardly? What is there to fear from his presence here?” He believed that no one here was being fair to the Crown Prince. Prince Natsuka was here to represent himself, but the Crown Prince was not. If that was deliberate, then the lords owed him an audience.
No one was surprised by these questions. The other lords already knew that this meeting had been called on the Empress’ orders. Shōin had to know that she was manipulating events in an unfair way. She should have guessed that the straightforward Lord of Hokke would not stand for such tricks.
The Lord of Nanke was the Empress’ younger brother, so he was almost certainly complicit in calling this meeting while the Crown Prince was absent. He showed no sign of discomfort or remorse.
“The Crown Prince was invited,” Shōin said. “He was unfortunately absent from the Sun Palace when the invitation was sent. Does this not prove that the Crown Prince has no interest in participating in political affairs?” She shrugged artlessly, having steered the conversation back to the Crown Prince’s lack of fitness to govern.
How shameless, the Lord of Hokke thought. He was about to speak again when a silver bell chimed twice.
The bell that rang was one that was attached to the gate of the Imperial Hall. It only rang when someone entered or left the hall. His Imperial Majesty the Emperor was already present, so there was no reason for the bell to ring now.
The Lord of Hokke thought that maybe a soldier stationed at the gate had rung the bell by accident. The soldiers looked at one another in confusion and said that they had not touched any of the bells.
The bell rang again and kept ringing.
None of the gatekeepers or the officials seated near the gate had touched any of the hanging silver bells. There was no wind, yet the bell kept sounding as if it had a will of its own.
This situation was unprecedented. Even officials who had attended meetings in the Imperial Hall for years had never seen this happen.
The bell ringing by the gate was soon accompanied by a cacophony of other silver bells. They all rang continuously to the same rhythm in a grand chorus. The sound was similar to the one that the Imperial Court pages made when the Emperor entered the Imperial Hall.
The soldiers standing by the gate looked at each other in fear. What on earth was happening?
The Lord of Hokke rose from his seat to investigate the pandemonium.
The bells suddenly stopped ringing. The large golden lock in the center of the gate clicked loudly, and then the gate swung open on its own.
The Crown Prince stood on the other side of the gate. As he walked into the room, the silver bell closest to the gate rang one more time.
The assembled officials all exchanged worried, puzzled looks. No one understood how the gate had unlocked by itself.
The Crown Prince walked boldly toward the raised dais where the Emperor sat, passing by the Lords of the Four Families without giving them so much as a glance.
Many people in the hall had not seen the Crown Prince in person before. He drew the eye, not just because he was physically attractive but because he exuded power. Every gesture, every movement shone with golden light. His clothes were jet black, but they appeared to be woven of sunlight where his aura shone through them. His style of his clothing was simple; he looked less like a prince than an interloper in this space, but his presence had the weight of absolute command.
The Crown Prince had delicate, almost feminine features, but the Lord of Hokke did not think him womanish in the slightest when the young man glanced his way. A shiver went through the Lord of Hokke. He felt like he’d been pierced to the very soul and sat back down in haste.
“Crown Prince,” the Lord of Hokke said, inclining his head.
The Crown Prince said nothing in reply. He paused before the Emperor’s throne.
Silence in the Imperial Hall.
“I heard a strange rumor,” the Crown Prince said in a voice that carried. “Apparently, the Golden Raven is holding an emergency meeting in the Imperial Hall. But how is that possible when the Golden Raven was not even present until now?” His imperious gaze fell on the Emperor. “Who dares call this meeting in my name?”
The Emperor groaned behind bamboo blinds.
The Lord of Saike was overjoyed. “Your Imperial Highness! Thank you for attending this meeting,” he said obsequiously.
The Crown Prince listened to the Lord of Saike prattle on about what he’d missed about the meeting so far. After a few sentences, the Crown Prince raised one hand and silenced him. “Cease. I understand the general situation.” He cast an exasperated look at Shōin.
“So the Rite of Ascension began in Sakura Palace, and you panicked. I understand that. But couldn’t you have channeled that fear into something more productive?”
The Crown Prince’s question was sincere and not mocking.
Shōin scowled at the Crown Prince and said nothing.
The Crown Prince looked away from her, sweeping his gaze over all those present in the Imperial Hall. “It seems you were all up to something petty and underhanded. Now that I’m here, I won’t have any of you speak for me. You certainly won’t be able to claim that I have no interest in participating in government. I am here at this meeting and I will answer all of your questions.”
He paused and then said, “First off, I’ll settle the question of whether or not I am the Crown Prince. According to the Imperial Code of Law, neither my brother nor I can officially be considered the Crown Prince because the Rite of Investiture has not been performed. Treating me as the Crown Prince was merely a matter of convenience, based on the wishes of the previous Emperor. Secretary Shōin’s legal summary of this matter is correct and reasonable.
“However,” the Crown Prince said firmly, “that reasoning cannot be used to claim that I am unfit to rule. Surely, you haven’t forgotten the reason why I, rather than my elder brother, was chosen as the next Emperor and legitimized by Hakū, have you?”
Shōin remained silent. The Crown Prince looked at his half-brother. “So much would seem to be common sense. Otherwise there would have been no reason for Prince Natsuka to abdicate in my favor ten years ago. Do you want to say that I am the son of a mere concubine, and that you cannot possibly have lost your position because of me? Or are you saying that you were so incompetent that those around you had no choice but to act as they did?”
Natsuka remained expressionless, nearly motionless.
The Crown Prince was in his element. He watched Natsuka watching him and suppressed a smile. “What, no answer? Tell me this: why were you deposed as the Crown Prince a decade ago?”
Natsuka didn’t reply immediately. When he spoke, his words were deliberate and slow. “Because you are a true Golden Raven, Your Imperial Highness.”
“Exactly,” the Crown Prince said. He narrowed his eyes to crescent moon slits as he laughed. “That was clear ten years ago. I am a true Golden Raven. My father the Emperor is nothing but a substitute for me. As my stand-in, he had no authority to convene this meeting.”
The Imperial Hall remained silent as the Crown Prince denounced his father’s actions.
A man sitting below the Lords of the Four Families stared up at the Crown Prince. He rose from his seat without making a sound. “May I speak, Your Imperial Highness?” the man asked.
“Go ahead,” the Crown Prince said.
“With all due respect, you have been traveling for a long time and have not been present at the Imperial Court for some years,” the man said. He was a young official dressed in a formal uniform. The Lord of Hokke noticed a prominent mole under one eye and remembered that he was one of Natsuka’s attendants and a member of the Nanke family.
The man had a distinctly aristocratic oval-shaped face. His lustrous black hair was slicked back with camellia oil. He might have been wearing makeup; his red lips were glossy, giving him the appearance of a refined young man that women would not ignore. His eyes shone as he took in the Crown Prince’s reaction to his words. He wore green robes and not the scarlet ones of the Lords of the Four Families, so it might be argued that he was speaking out of turn.
No one interrupted him, however. The man himself expected to be reprimanded for his lack of etiquette, but the lords had judged that having him speak on their behalf was wiser than making a clumsy statement themselves.
The Lords of Touke and Nanke signaled their subordinates, who had moved to rebuke the man, to stand down. Only the Lord of Saike expressed open displeasure at the man’s interruption. He said nothing only because the Crown Prince had given his permission for the man to speak.
The man bowed to the lords and then turned his full attention to the Crown Prince. “Your Imperial Highness is still young, and you have spent much of your time in Yamauchi being raised by your mother’s family. After that, you traveled the world, studying abroad. For all this time, His Imperial Majesty the Emperor governed Yamauchi in your stead. He has duties to attend to and very serious responsibilities. It is not unreasonable to believe that he has the authority to summon those present here to the Imperial Hall.”
The man bowed again and then sat, apologizing for his presumption. Though he appeared humble, his attitude and observations were rather brazen. He had taken pains to sound reasonable, but he had also contradicted what the Crown Prince himself had said.
The Crown Prince snorted laughter as the man sat down. “Are you a jester, Atsufusa? You always joke too much.”
“Forgive me, Your Imperial Highness, but I was not joking.” He smiled, but it seemed forced.
“I did not object to my father the Emperor convening this meeting,” the Crown Prince said. “I objected to him convening it in my name. I have returned to the Imperial Court. I am no longer traveling. My father’s work here is done.” He shifted his gaze to the Emperor. “Will you step down, substitute Golden Raven? There is no need for you to sit upon that throne any longer. I alone possess the authority to govern Yamauchi.”
There was no need for a substitute Golden Raven. The true Golden Raven had returned.
A sound between a shout and a scream echoed from behind the bamboo blinds. Attendants hastily drew the blinds up. The string that had been holding the jeweled curtain broke, scattering crystals across the wooden floor.
The Emperor had broken the jeweled curtain himself when he’d seized it in a fit of passion. His shoulders heaved violently. He stood frozen in place before his throne, no longer concealed by anything. His formal robes were embroidered with deep purple and gold thread. He appeared old and frail; his robes nearly swallowed him in their folds. His face was pale and his eyes were wide open. His features were refined and distinguished, but he lacked the natural charisma that both of his sons possessed. Compared to both Nazukihiko and Natsuka, the Emperor’s looks were unremarkable.
“Nazukihiko! You—what could you possibly know about anything?” The Emperor’s voice was hoarse and barely audible.
The Crown Prince showed no inclination to answer his father’s question. He picked up a scepter that the Emperor had tossed aside when he’d grabbed the jeweled curtain and casually offered it to the Emperor, who stared at it in a daze. The Crown Prince smiled at him gently and with patient understanding.
“You’ve done well. But now it’s over,” the Crown Prince said.
The Emperor accepted the scepter blankly. He was thoroughly flummoxed. He collapsed to the floor as if his legs had lost all of their strength.
The Crown Prince regarded his completely stupefied father with a hint of pity.
“Take him away,” he said.
An Imperial Court page helped the Emperor to his feet and guided the old man out of the hall. When the Emperor left through the gate, the bells did not make a sound.
The Crown Prince took in the mess that the Emperor had made of the throne and sighed. He brushed aside shattered crystals and then sat down.
“My apologies for the delay,” the Crown Prince said. “Shall we continue?”
The lords and officials beseeched one another for support with desperate glances. Even the Lord of Saike was overwhelmed by the gravity of the situation. He didn’t appear to be as frightened as the rest of the lords, but he was equally bewildered.
“Did you have to treat the Emperor so harshly?” Prince Natsuka asked.
The Crown Prince blinked. “I believe I acted in a perfectly reasonable manner.”
“Perhaps,” Natsuka said, “but there must have been a more peaceful way to handle all of this.”
The Crown Prince towered over Natsuka from his high seat. He considered his half-brother’s words for a long moment. Then he said, “Do you think so? It seems I am hopelessly insensitive to the subtleties of others. How concerning. I’ll be more careful from now on.” His apology sounded sincere. He smiled at Natsuka. “You are most perceptive, brother. You would make a fine lord. Are you ever frustrated by my carelessness?”
The question was meant to provoke, though it was spoken calmly.
Natsuka met the Crown Prince’s jab with an unreadable smile. “Not at all. Having witnessed Your Imperial Highness’ actions, I wondered if perhaps you were neglecting your duties as the Crown Prince. That is why I am present at this meeting. As a member of the Souke family, all I desire is peace in Yamauchi and the rightful rule of the Golden Raven. If you bring peace and prosperity to our land, Your Imperial Highness, then I will have no reason to oppose you.”
“I see. Hearing that puts my mind at ease. Do you intend to serve me from now on, despite my shortcomings?”
“As you command., Your Imperial Highness.”
The Crown Prince seemed satisfied with this obedient answer. “Very good, very good. Then I shall have you swear loyalty to me here. Kneel and vow that you will devote yourself to me.”
There were faint cries of “Prince Natsuka!” coming from the lowest seats in the hall. The Crown Prince ignored them.
Prince Natsuka hesitated for a brief moment, but then he rose from his seat and bowed deeply to the Crown Prince. He pressed his forehead to the ground and then said, “I swear to devote my life and loyalty to the true Golden Raven, Your Imperial Majesty,” he said in a clear, unwavering voice.
When he lifted his head, he shot a sharp glance at the Crown Prince that was full of malice.
The Lord of Hokke was sitting closest to the princes. It was possible that only he and the Crown Prince witnessed Natsuka’s hostility. The Crown Prince seemed amused. He smiled slightly.
“Then that’s all in order,” the Crown Prince said. “Those who try to hinder my ascension have ambitions beyond their station. Those who truly wish for the peace and prosperity of Yamauchi, those with resolve, need only follow me in silence.”
After confirming that his brother had returned to his original position, the Crown Prince gazed down on the Lords of the Four Families and declared, “Begin preparations for my father’s abdication. As soon as that is complete, I will formally ascend the throne.”
Before the Lords of the Four Families could react, Shōin called out, “Wait!” in a sharp, strained voice. “Surely you have not forgotten. At present, Your Imperial Highness is viewed with suspicion by His Imperial Majesty and by three of the Four Families. It is impossible to believe that you can ascend the throne peacefully. Your situation is too precarious.”
“That is not correct,” the Lord of Touke said mildly.
Shōin glared at him. The Lord of Touke was as tranquil as a mountain lake.
“Immediate ascension is out of the question, of course. The Emperor must abdicate. The Crown Prince will have some time to act between now and then. If he shows himself to be capable, then we would have no reason to oppose his ascension. It is difficult to say whether or not the transfer of power will be entirely peaceful, but neither is the situation so dire that the Crown Prince should not attempt it.” He prevaricated, pretending worry that he didn’t feel. There was cunning calculation in his eyes, speculation in the arch of his brows.
The Lord of Hokke reminded himself not to underestimate the Lord of Touke.
“In regards to the point about the Crown Prince’s actions in the near future, I am of exactly the same opinion,” the Lord of Hokke said.
“Thank you,” the Crown Prince replied, bowing his head slightly to the lords. That gesture could be seen as either polite or mocking. The Lord of Hokke swallowed heavily, trying to calm his growing sense of unease. “However, there is one thing I would like to ask Your Imperial Highness, if I may?”
“I don’t mind. Speak.”
“Why is it that Your Imperial Highness is neglecting the duchesses of Sakura Palace?”
The Lord of Hokke had sent his own adopted daughter, Shiratama, to Sakura Palace earlier in the year. He was most displeased to learn that the Crown Prince was frequenting pleasure houses. He had little insight into the Crown Prince’s activities from day to day, but he was determined not to forgive Crown Prince’s actions without a good explanation.
“I have no intention of neglecting them,” the Crown Prince said. “There have been inevitable circumstances. In any case, a consort will be necessary for the Rite of Investiture. I shall bring one of the duchesses in Sakura Palace here before the year is out.”
The Lord of Saike grinned. The Crown Prince pointedly ignored him.
The Lord of Hokke’s eyebrows drew together. “In that case, why do you frequent pleasure houses?”
The Crown Prince was not embarrassed or annoyed by this question. “I have valid reasons for that as well, but this might not be the best forum to speak of such things.”
The Lord of Hokke didn’t like this vague answer. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean that it is a long answer, and I cannot remain long in a place where my safety is not guaranteed.”
Before anyone could press him on what that meant, Shōin stood up straighter and asked, “Do you truly intend to bring one of the duchesses in Sakura Palace here this year?”
“That’s right. Once that’s done, the Rite of Investiture will be held immediately.”
“But what if the Lord of Nanke opposes you?”
The Crown Prince was about to answer Shōin when the Lord of Nanke himself spoke up.
“I would not oppose him,” the Lord of Nanke said. He had not spoken at all until now.
Shōin was speechless. Many others appeared equally shocked. Even the Crown Prince’s expression shifted slightly from surprise.
“Excuse me, I fear I may not have heard you properly. Can you repeat what you just said, Lord of Nanke?” the Crown Prince asked.
“I said that I do not intend to oppose the Crown Prince’s ascension to the throne.” Though his words were clear and assertive, his mouth pulled down in a bitter frown. It was hard to believe that he was telling the truth.
Shōin was stunned. She did not speak or move.
The Lord of Touke tapped his ceremonial baton on his mouth once, aping nervousness he obviously didn’t feel. “Well, well,” he muttered under his breath. The Lord of Saike was almost as shocked as Shōin. He appeared thoroughly undignified, not like a lord at all.
The Lord of Nanke took in all the chaos his pronouncement had caused before he addressed the Crown Prince again. “The Crown Prince is a true Golden Raven, so it would be unreasonable to oppose his ascension. Also, Prince Natsuka has just pledged his loyalty to the Crown Prince, so I have no reason to object to his leadership.”
These words should have been cause for celebration, but the Lord of Hokke found them vaguely ominous. The Crown Prince was not gloating or celebrating. He was trying to figure out the Lord of Nanke’s game.
Prince Natsuka didn’t move a muscle. He watched things play out, staying as still as a statue.
The Lord of Hokke heard whispers coming from the lower seats in the hall.
“Why would the Lord of Nanke change his mind?”
“So sudden…”
“He’s been questioning the Crown Prince’s behavior a lot recently…”
“Why now?”
The Lord of Nanke heard these whispers, too. He smiled down at the lower seats. “I should probably add that I don’t hold to the superstitions of true Golden Ravens being heralds of disaster.” In a monotone, he added that he intended to devote himself to the good of Yamauchi and its people.
The whispers became louder.
The Lord of Nanke was the Empress’ younger brother. He had always sided with Natsuka, supporting what the Empress supported. This about-face was unprecedented. The Lord of Nanke had never given the Crown Prince a single word of support until today. The opposite was true.
The lower part of the Imperial Hall was now positively boisterous. The meeting soon came to an abrupt and indecorous end.
The Lord of Hokke prepared to leave. Nothing about this meeting had satisfied him. He turned toward the gate and spotted a familiar face.
“Yukiya? Is that you? Why are you hiding over there? You’re the Crown Prince’s attendant, so you should have come into the hall along with him.”
Yukiya shook his head violently. “No way. I don’t want the kind of attention that he gets. That entrance was way too flashy—how could I follow that? It’s better for me to stay over here where most people won’t see me.”
“But then, you—”
“We’re leaving now, Yukiya,” the Crown Prince said. He walked past the Lord of Hokke, ignoring him and the other lords.
“Why did you even come here?” the Lord of Hokke asked Yukiya.
Yukiya looked up at the Lord of Hokke and said, “I have absolutely no idea.”
***
“So the Crown Prince was made the Crown Prince in the first place because he was considered a true Golden Raven,” Yukiya said.
It was the morning after the Crown Prince had gatecrashed the meeting in the Imperial Hall. Yukiya had mostly ignored the Crown Prince’s command to follow him. He’d watched everything from the gate. The Crown Prince hadn’t reprimanded him. Yukiya had no idea why he’d needed to be present in the Imperial Hall for that meeting.
Yukiya couldn’t account for the Crown Prince’s bizarre behavior at that meeting. He’d tried to ask the Crown Prince about it after they’d returned to the Sun Palace, but the Crown Prince had departed with Sumio almost immediately.
At his wits’ end and wanting answers, Yukiya completed his morning tasks and then went to the Ministry of War, where Lord Kiei was working diligently. He demanded an explanation for what he’d seen yesterday.
Kiei had been present in the Imperial Hall the previous day, though he’d been seated in the lowest tier. He seemed happy that Yukiya was asking him about all this. He repeated what the Crown Prince had said about being a true Golden Raven.
“But what does that even mean?” Yukiya asked. “What is a true Golden Raven? It seemed like the Crown Prince was bullying Prince Natsuka and the Emperor.”
“Even if that’s true, you shouldn’t say it,” Kiei said in an undertone. He explained things from the Crown Prince’s point of view.
The Emperor had taken two wives. One, his first wife, was the Empress, and the second had been a concubine. The Empress had given birth to Natsuka. The concubine, who had died young, had given birth to the Crown Prince and his sister, Princess Fujinami.
“Under normal circumstances, Prince Natsuka would be the Emperor’s heir without question. But immediately after Nazukihiko was born, the previous Emperor and Hakū declared that he was a true Golden Raven.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Yukiya said. “What makes a Golden Raven true? Is there such a thing as a false Golden Raven?”
“Wait, wait,” Kiei said. “The current Emperor and the previous one were not true Golden Ravens.”
“Why not? They’re Emperors.”
“Their official title was Substitute Golden Raven. They weren’t the real thing.” He poked Yukiya in the forehead. “Substitute Golden Ravens rule when there is no true Golden Raven. True Golden Ravens aren’t ordinary Yatagarasu like the rest of us.”
“Then what are they?” Yukiya asked, thinking of his selfish and exacting employer and wondering what made him so different. “He seems like an ordinary Yatagarasu to me.”
“Well, that’s probably because the differences aren’t visible on the outside. Yesterday, the bells in the Imperial Hall rang on their own and the gate unlocked itself.”
“And that makes someone a true Golden Raven?”
“No, I don’t think that’s necessarily the case… anyway, normal Yatagarasu can’t transform at night, but true Golden Ravens can. Their raven forms are larger and more magnificent. They are said to be born with all the qualities required to rule over other Yatagarasu. And there are anecdotes and stories—mostly fairy tales now; there hasn’t been a true Golden Raven in a long time. Stuff like making flowers bloom on withered trees or making water spring from the ground when their scepter touches it.”
“Fairy tales? So you don’t know for sure,” Yukiya said, exasperated.
Kiei gave him a wry grin. “True Golden Ravens are rare. It can be decades between births. The Crown Prince just happened to be born a true Golden Raven. At least, that’s what the previous Emperor claimed.”
Yukiya pouted. “That doesn’t sound very convincing to me. Palace ravens rarely transform, right? So how would anyone verify that he was a true Golden Raven in the first place?”
“That’s precisely the problem,” Kiei said, whispering now. “It seems that the previous Emperor was dissatisfied with Prince Natsuka in some way.”
“Oh.” That made sense to Yukiya. “So this true Golden Raven business… it’s just a pretext? An excuse?”
“Keep your voice down,” Kiei whispered. He glanced around, making sure that no one was paying close attention to them. He leaned in close. “You’re not wrong, not entirely. There are some people who think that there’s no such thing as a true Golden Raven, and that stories about them are made up for situations just like the one we’re in.”
The convenient fiction of true Golden Ravens allowed Emperors to choose successors who weren’t their eldest sons. That was assuming that true Golden Ravens were fictional, of course.
“Emperors that select true Golden Ravens to succeed them generally live in turbulent times,” Kiei said quietly. “Golden Ravens preside over Yamauchi during periods of instability and strife. There were rebellions, political upheavals, and even natural disasters like floods and famines in the past. Some claim that deviating from the natural succession of father to eldest son angers the mountain god, and that is what causes these calamities.
“It’s extremely unfortunate for His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince, but rice harvests have been poor lately. We’ve seen both floods and famines, albeit on a small scale. It is likely that he is being blamed for these events even though he’s not ruling Yamauchi yet.”
Yukiya slapped his knee in understanding. “So that’s what the Lord of Nanke meant when he talked about the superstition of true Golden Ravens heralding disasters.”
“That’s right. Many people believe that true Golden Ravens are bad luck. But I suspect the Lord of Nanke was being disingenuous. There’s no way he would agree to support the Crown Prince’s ascension so easily. There must be something going on behind the scenes.”
“I understand. Thank you for your thorough explanation,” Yukiya said.
“You’re welcome. If there’s anything else you don’t understand, just ask.” He frowned slightly.
“What’s wrong?” Yukiya asked.
“Nothing, really. I’m just thinking about where Hokke stands in all this. The Lord of Hokke stood with the Crown Prince and the Lord of Saike ten years ago, back during the whole political mess.”
“He did?” Yukiya asked. He hadn’t gotten the impression that the Lord of Hokke supported the Crown Prince at yesterday’s meeting. Prince Natsuka had come to the New Year’s celebration in Hokke territory this year, so he’d assumed that the Lord of Hokke supported Prince Natsuka.
“Prince Natsuka’s mother is from the Nanke family, so Hokke supported Saike hoping to preserve the balance of power at the Imperial Court,” Kiei said. “Nanke had an outsize influence in the Imperial Court at the time, even worse than now. Hokke couldn’t improve their position much by siding with them, so the lord backed the Crown Prince instead.”
Yukiya thought he understood the implications of what Kiei was telling him. The Lord of Hokke had not backed the Crown Prince ten years ago because he’d liked him personally, and he hadn’t opposed Natsuka out of hostility. His position had been pragmatic and based on what was happening inside the Imperial Court.
How unfortunate that Natsuka grew up to be the solid, dependable brother while Nazukihiko was a careless fool. Relations between Nanke and Hokke had improved recently, as evidenced by Natsuka’s invitation to the New Year’s celebration.
As the heir to Hokke territory, Kiei was thinking about the current lord’s past decisions. Maybe he thought that the Lord of Hokke had made the wrong choice back then.
“I don’t think the Crown Prince is as much of a fool as people think,” Kiei muttered. “He must not be one. Or nothing would make sense.”
Yukiya was about to say that there was no sense in worrying about the past now when he heard footsteps. His mouth snapped shut.
The Crown Prince himself approached them.
Yukiya prepared to be scolded for making idle chatter, but as usual, the Crown Prince surprised him.
Kiei went white as the Crown Prince got closer and closer. Yukiya waved casually. He didn’t mind being scolded a little. The Crown Prince never seemed to mind what he did as long as all his tasks were complete.
“You’re idle?” the Crown Prince asked Yukiya.
“Is it so wrong to be idle for a few minutes? I did my morning tasks,” he said.
“I did not imply that being idle was wrong,” the Crown Prince asked. “I asked if you were. Besides, you don’t have to work anymore today. You’re coming with me to the pleasure houses.”
The Crown Prince had a gift for leaving people speechless. He looked at Kiei. “Oh. Hello, Lord Kiei. Do you mind if I take my attendant off your hands?”
“Not at all, Your Imperial Highness,” Kiei stammered.
The Crown Prince thanked him and then grabbed Yukiya by his collar. He walked out of the Ministry of War at a brisk pace.
***
How had it come to this?
Yukiya took in the scene before him. The table he sat at was overloaded with fancy food and drink. His mouth watered. Beautiful women danced around the room in dazzling costumes, their sleeves fluttering in time with the music. Pale green and cherry blossom colored silks swirled about like spring flowers in a meadow.
The Crown Prince sat in a seat of honor, calm and composed. Those around him laughed and joked, but Yukiya did not so much as crack a smile.
“What’s wrong, Yukiya?” the Crown Prince asked. “You haven’t touched your chopsticks for a while now.”
Yukiya looked up at the Crown Prince with a blank expression on his face. “There’s nothing wrong with the food,” he said. “I just have no idea why we’re here.”
“We’re feasting,” the Crown Prince said. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“The young master is very generous to us,” one of the elegant dancers said. She giggled.
“The young master has taken care of everything, so you can just relax,” another woman said. “We won’t demand payment from you later or anything like that.”
Another woman handed him a full cup of rice wine. Yukiya already felt dizzy.
The Crown Prince had guided Yukiya back to the Sun Palace on foot after finding him in the Ministry of War. The Crown Prince had commanded him to change into his most formal attire, so Yukiya had donned his pale blue ceremonial robes. By the time he’d done that, the Crown Prince was waiting for him at the gate astride a horse.
“You can ride, can’t you? Hurry up,” the Crown Prince said.
It was already dark. Yukiya hadn’t seen Sumio since morning. It seemed that the Crown Prince intended to go out without a guard. If any other officials saw him like this, there was no telling what they’d say.
Yukiya’s hesitation showed on his face and in his posture.
“Don’t worry,” the Crown Prince said. “You’re small for your age and not that heavy. This one won’t complain, either.” He patted the horse cheerfully on the neck.
Yukiya gave in because he didn’t have much choice. He mounted the horse with the Crown Prince sitting behind him. The horse had a special harness and a hanging lantern around its neck, both of which denoted the rider’s status.
The horse had no trouble carrying two people. Before long, they were soaring over the Grand Gate toward the Central Gate and the market by the lake. The horse descended in a carriage yard in the market. It was night, so the carriage yard was brightly lit.
“Welcome, young master,” a man called out to them. He smiled.
The Crown Prince helped Yukiya dismount and then jumped off the horse. “Thank you. Take him to the usual place, if you would,” the Crown Prince said, handing over the reins.
The Crown Prince left the carriage yard and headed toward the Central Gate. Yukiya hurried after him and caught up just before he went through a gate that was painted a garish red.
Yukiya’s ears went pink. He hoped his stepmother in Taruhi Village would never find out that he’d come here. He held his head in his hands for a few moments.
The pleasure houses beyond the lurid gate were built on a rocky mountain slope. They were closely packed together, filling all of the available space. Steep steps lit by lanterns shaped like peach blossoms wended up the slope. Yukiya felt like they were walking through the fabled utopia of the Peach Blossom Spring. A sweet fragrance wafted through the air. It wasn’t the smell of peach blossoms, but the scent was floral and delicate.
The crowded streets reminded Yukiya of some of the neighborhoods in Taruhi Village, but there was much greater visual opulence on display here. Lanterns were so abundant that there was almost too much light; it was hard to see. The cheerful laughter of women and the sound of lively music drifted out of the buildings. Yukiya smelled incense and alcohol as they walked up the stone steps.
Yukiya reminded himself that the Crown Prince was with him. This was a pleasure district in the capital city of Yamauchi. It was made for catering to nobles like the Crown Prince.
“All those letters you get come from the women here, then?” Yukiya asked.
“Yes, that’s right.” Yukiya had expected the Crown Prince to show some shame or embarrassment, but he was disappointed. “But never mind all that. We’re here.”
Yukiya looked up at a particularly splendid establishment. The entrance was decorated with elegant carvings of cranes and the rising sun. The workmanship was even grander than some of the art in the Imperial Palace. A sign declared the establishment’s name in bold letters: Moonwatch Tower.
“Welcome, young master! We’ve been expecting you!”
The staff inside was all smiles as they caught sight of Yukiya and the Crown Prince. Yukiya was swept up in a tide of people. Before he knew it, he and the Crown Prince were seated at a huge table laden with food as women danced around them.
“You could see this as a celebration in your honor,” the Crown Prince said. “I’ve finally selected a personal attendant.”
“Yet you don’t seem happy,” a courtesan said to Yukiya. She gave him a charming smile. “Is something here not to your liking?”
Yukiya bared his teeth, attempting a smile but only managing a grimace.
“Do you dislike being here so much?” the Crown Prince asked. He’d noticed Yukiya’s unusual sullenness. His attendant had barely touched the food or the rice wine.
Yukiya placed a fresh cup of rice wine that a courtesan had given him on the table without taking a sip. “I don’t like it or dislike it. I’m in shock.”
“About what?”
“Think really hard for a minute and the reason will come to you,” Yukiya muttered. The day before, the Lords of the Four Families had chastened the Crown Prince for visiting the pleasure houses. Yet here he was, visiting them again the very next day. He pitied the duchesses of Sakura Palace. He also understood Kiei’s troubles better now. It was impossible not to worry about the future of Yamauchi, given what he knew.
Yukiya looked up at the ceiling in chagrin.
The Crown Prince either could not read his mood or deliberately chose to ignore it. He offered Yukiya more rice wine.
“I don’t know what you’re so shocked about, but the wine isn’t to blame. Why not have a drink?”
“I don’t drink alcohol.” This was a blatant lie, but the Crown Prince didn’t know that. Drinking was not just a pastime but a tradition in the north. Warrior families bathed their newborn infants in rice wine instead of water. Even his youngest brother, Yukichi, drank rice wine on occasion.
He refused to partake in the feast because if he did, it would be like acknowledging that he’d agreed to become the Crown Prince’s personal attendant. The Crown Prince seemed to understand that as well. He didn’t press Yukiya to drink again after he’d refused outright.
The Crown Prince gave Yukiya a faint, wry grin. “I understand how you feel, but you should still eat. You work too hard each day to starve yourself at night.” He tossed Yukiya a handful of sugared kumquats.
Yukiya caught the fruit. “Kumquats again?”
“Think of it as payment for the day’s work.” He held up four fingers.
There were four kumquats in Yukiya’s hands.
“All right, sure.”
“If you accept them, you should thank me for them.”
“Thank you, Your Imperial Highness.” Yukiya left the Crown Prince alone at the feasting table and sat by a window. He ate his kumquats in silence. His eyes were tired from the brightness and business of the room. Looking out at the relative peace outside was restful. He saw the mountains rising above the brightly lit pleasure district, creating islands of darkness on an ocean of light. He opened the window wide, letting in cool air that felt soothing on his flushed cheeks.
Yukiya noticed a shadow moving near the shop across the street. A pale face turned toward him. He felt like he was being watched. He stared intently. The watcher concealed themselves behind a wall after a few moments.
“Young master, don’t stay over there—come play with us,” a courtesan said.
Yukiya would have preferred to keep looking outside, but then a courtesan came to guide him back to the table personally. He pretended to be exhausted and drunk on fumes so that the Crown Prince wouldn’t bother him too much.
The Crown Prince thoroughly enjoyed himself. They didn’t leave the table until dawn. By that time, Yukiya had fallen asleep. The Crown Prince shook him awake and told him they were going home. His clothes and hair were disheveled. The host offered to see them off, but the Crown Prince said that this was a clandestine visit and declined. It seemed that he wanted to leave before other customers showed up.
Yukiya thought about how much money the night’s feast must have cost. Food like that was staggeringly expensive. He thought to himself that it was no wonder so many people considered the Crown Prince to be a fool.
The dawn air was so cold that Yukiya’s breath was white. The sky was a pale purple, the color of a fading bruise. Lanterns had burned out overnight. The magical scene they’d walked into the previous night looked more subdued in the predawn gloom. All was quiet and still. Yukiya sometimes felt like they were walking in an underwater version of the pleasure district they’d entered.
Yukiya took in his surroundings absentmindedly as he walked toward the stables. He had only taken a few steps when he sensed someone following him. He remembered looking out the window and seeing a person staring back.
The Crown Prince had taken them to an extravagantly wealthy establishment. He wouldn’t be surprised if pickpockets or worse had noticed them. His stomach sank like a stone in water as he kept moving.
“Your Imperial Highness, wait a moment,” Yukiya said.
“Don’t call me that here,” the Crown Prince said. “We don’t know who’s listening. Call me young master.”
Yukiya wanted to protest, but the Crown Prince’s sharp look made him reconsider.
The Crown Prince also knew they were being followed.
That didn’t make Yukiya feel any better. It took all his willpower not to look back at their pursuers. There were few people on the street at this hour. The carriage yard was wide open and exposed: the perfect place for attackers to ambush them. The Crown Prince must know that, too, but he kept walking, calm and silent. What on earth was he planning?
The Crown Prince was armed with a saber—a just-in-case measure; Yukiya had never seen him use it. The Crown Prince was tall, but not muscular. He doubted the weapon would be useful.
Heart pounding, Yukiya followed the Crown Prince as they retrieved his horse.
Their pursuers didn’t spring their trap immediately. They surrounded Yukiya and the Crown Prince in the carriage yard, cutting off their escape. Yukiya went pale as he counted them all. There were at least a dozen of them, all dressed in feather robes.
There was no time to flee.
“Step away from the horse and hand over your sword,” growled a rough-looking man in dirty clothes.
“What do you want with us?” the Crown Prince asked.
Yukiya blinked. Right. These people might not know who they were. They might just want money.
The man stepped in closer, pressing his sword to the Crown Prince’s throat.
“Shut up. If you don’t do as I say, I’ll cut you down.”
The man’s sword was as filthy as he was and nicked in places.
The Crown Prince sighed. “Fine. I’ll do as you say.” He stepped away from his horse, moving sluggishly. He unfastened the sword from his waist and tossed it toward the man. The black scabbard glinted in the morning sun as it crept over the mountains.
The man was about to catch the saber as it traced an arc through the air when a sharp cracking sound startled him.
The sword was snatched out of the air by a huge black raven—the Crown Prince’s horse. The raven’s wings snapped out sharply, awkwardly, as they gripped the saber’s hilt in their talons.
“Stand back!” the man called out. “Drop your weapon!”
The raven scattered black feathers everywhere as they moved. They severed the arm of the man who had threatened the Crown Prince with his sword.
Blood spurted from the man’s body as the raven gored him with their talons. The raven performed a splendid somersault in midair, using their wings to keep their balance and altitude. The horse landed in front of Yukiya and the Crown Prince, still carrying the Crown Prince’s saber. He transformed into his human form the moment he touched the ground.
“Sumio,” the Crown Prince said. “Thanks.”
Yukiya’s jaw dropped. “Why was he a horse?”
Sumio gave him a fleeting smile. “Stay back.”
The Crown Prince obeyed an instant before Yukiya did. He placed one hand on Yukiya’s back to guide him into the shadow cast by the stables. Sumio confirmed their retreat and then faced the ring of attackers.
“You’re not just thugs after money, are you?” Sumio asked, sharp eyes narrowing. “Who sent you?”
Many of the attackers were in shock after seeing one of their companions lose an arm.
“You don’t have any right to ask questions,” a man spat. “Shut up!”
More curses and shouts, and then the men charged at Sumio.
But Sumio was strong. So strong that Yukiya, who came from a warrior family, found it difficult to gauge his true strength.
Sumio flicked the Crown Prince’s sword, spattering blood onto the ground. He flew at the attackers, slashing swiftly as he went.
One of the attackers was a tall, muscular fellow built like a fence post. Sumio was short and had a small frame, so this attacker positively dwarfed him. Sumio looked like a child in comparison.
But Sumio was faster and his movements were unpredictable. Yukiya tried to track him and failed several times. A scream from the left would be drowned out by another one to the right. Sumio was a blur of terrifying, efficient speed. He flipped over men’s heads and landed gracefully as a dancer.
The men attacking Sumio were like leaves blown about by a raging gale. Those who were still standing were disoriented. Several collapsed to their knees. They had realized that they were no match for Sumio.
When the attackers broke, it wasn’t quite all at once. A few dragged their wounded comrades away from the battle and out of sight: they were the first to flee. Then the quicker attackers, men who could still run fast, weighed their options and scattered. The last man left was the man with the severed arm. He was in no fit state to move. He huddled in on himself, clutching his stump and sobbing.
Sumio didn’t chase the runners. He grabbed the cowering, injured man by the collar and hauled him up.
“Who sent you? Spit it out! Otherwise, you’ll lose more than an arm.”
The man went pale. His lips trembled. He opened his mouth to speak…
…and then an arrow pierced the side of his head.
Sumio gasped in shock and let the man go. The man collapsed to the ground, already dead. The arrow protruded from his temple.
Yukiya had watched the battle from the relative shelter of the stable wall. He saw the archer. They wore a white mask that covered half their face and a feather robe.
“Sir Sumio,” Yukiya called out, “There! They’re over there!” He pointed toward a clump of trees where the archer was hidden.
Sumio started running in the direction Yukiya had indicated, but he stopped after a few steps and turned around. “There might be an ambush,” he said stiffly. He appeared just as dissatisfied as Yukiya felt.
The Crown Prince nodded in understanding—and agreement. He didn’t command Sumio to give chase. “It would be dangerous to pursue them now. Your instincts are almost always correct.” He looked around cautiously for any further danger. Then he looked at Yukiya, his eyebrows rising from surprise.
“What’s wrong, Yukiya?” he asked. “You look pale. Sick. Are you hurt?”
Yukiya shook his head. “I’m not injured. I’m fine.” His legs shook under him, but he wasn’t about to complain.
The Crown Prince noticed how unsteady he was on his feet. He turned to Sumio. “We’ll return to the Sun Palace later,” he said. “We should find a place to recover.”
***
“Are you calmer now?” the Crown Prince asked Yukiya.
“Yes. I’m fine.” There was a wet towel on his head that covered his eyes. He removed the towel and blinked a few times to help his eyes adjust.
They’d returned to Moonwatch Tower. This wasn’t the banquet hall where they’d spent the night, but a smaller and more private room. The Crown Prince stood leaning against a pillar. Yukiya saw a single branch of blooming white plum blossoms winding around the pillar. It was hard to tell if the flowers were real or fake.
Yukiya felt much more settled now. He bowed to the Crown Prince. “I’m sorry to have worried you. Forgive me for showing such a shameful side of myself.” He hadn’t expected to react like that to the battle. He hadn’t fainted, but the sight of blood had made him nauseous.
The Crown Prince told him not to worry. “There is no need for shame. You were attacked by someone with a blade and witnessed a Yatagarasu killed right before your eyes. Your reaction is normal.”
Yukiya had not expected words of comfort from the Crown Prince. He rubbed his crinkling forehead. “I suppose. May I ask you something, Your Imperial Highness?”
“What is it?”
“You know who attacked us… don’t you?” Yukiya thought his suspicions were correct. Nothing he’d seen would make sense otherwise. The Crown Prince had gone out with only one guard disguised as a horse. He had noticed that they were being followed, maybe even before Yukiya had noticed. None of that could be coincidental. He peeked through his fingers and saw the Crown Prince nodding at him.
“I do know,” the Crown Prince said.
“Who are they?” Yukiya asked.
“They were just ordinary street criminals, I think,” the Crown Prince said. “Palace ravens hired them.”
“You mean city nobles?”
“That’s right. The archer was likely hired by the same person. Or people.”
“Why?” Yukiya asked.
The Crown Prince tilted his head slightly. His wry grin changed to a subtle frown. “That’s obvious,” he said. “They’re after my life.”
The Crown Prince’s dispassionate nature often puzzled Yukiya. Now he found it maddening. “They’re after your life?” he echoed.
The Crown Prince said, “I don’t know exactly who hired them, but it’s probably the faction supporting my older brother.” He shrugged. “You saw that meeting in the Imperial Hall. I have many political enemies who would love to see me dead before I can become the Emperor. There have been many attempts on my life already—poison, archers firing at me from stealth, and attacks like the one last night,” he said.
How could the Crown Prince be so calm about assassination attempts? Weren’t those very serious? Why wasn’t he worried?
“If there have already been so many attempts, why doesn’t everyone know about them?” Yukiya asked.
The Crown Prince scratched the back of his head and looked down. “Well, you see… I’ve been attacked many times, but I’m fine. No one takes the danger seriously.”
Yukiya didn’t understand why. Surely assassination attempts were a grave threat that needed a commensurate response?
“That’s ridiculous,” Yukiya said. “You must have a friend or two in the Imperial Court, right? Not everyone is against you.”
“That’s the problem,” the Crown Prince said. “They are against me. Every single one.” He held out one hand and started listing his enemies one by one, folding his fingers down as he counted them out. “The meeting in the Imperial Hall is a case in point. Only a few showed open opposition to me, but they all dislike me. No one wanted me to be the Emperor’s heir, not even ten years ago. The Empress hates me, of course; she’s Natsuka’s mother and has consistently supported him. She has planted her own agent, Shōin, into the Imperial Court to make things more difficult for me. The Lord of Nanke is the Empress’ younger brother, so he naturally does not think well of me. All the nobles connected to Nanke in some way share similar sentiments. That is why everyone was so surprised when the Lord of Nanke said he would support my ascension. He couldn’t possibly have meant that. The Lord of Nanke has some other scheme or motive.
“And then there’s Touke,” the Crown Prince said. He shook his head. “They’re not trustworthy. Ten years ago, they sided with Nanke, but their loyalty is fickle. The Lord of Touke is a cunning man who is not to be underestimated. The whole family is opportunistic, and that approach has made them powerful. They never make firm decisions until they are forced to. Their support has shifted the balance of power in the Imperial Court in the past, but I could never rely on them as allies. Even if I managed to win them over, it’s easy to imagine a future where they would betray me for their own benefit.”
Yukiya understood that much. The Touke family had few people positioned in places of great power within the Imperial Court, but those positions were all secure. They had never been ousted from power after they decided to take it.
“Making the Lord of Touke an ally would be political suicide in the long run,” the Crown Prince said. “As for Hokke, you’re likely more familiar with the current circumstances in the north than I am, Yukiya. Ten years ago, the Lord of Hokke sided with me and my mother’s family, but the loyalty of the nobles there is shifting toward Natsuka now. Hokke isn’t known for deception or duplicity—not like Touke—but they’re obviously trying to keep their options open.”
Yukiya wanted to disagree, but then he remembered his conversation with Lord Kiei. He was the Lord of Hokke’s heir—and he was uncertain about the Crown Prince’s fitness to govern.
“What about Saike?” Yukiya asked. “Your mother’s family will support you, right?”
“They’re not my enemies,” the Crown Prince said, “but they’re not allies, either. They see me as a puppet. They would save me if I were in mortal peril, but only if I could prove it.” His mouth thinned to a harsh line.
Ten years before, the Crown Prince had been a child. He had told his mother’s family about an attempt on his life, and they had not believed him. They’d done nothing. Their response to the child Nazukihiko had been cold.
That had happened just after the Lord of Saike, Nazukihiko’s grandfather, had died. After that, the Crown Prince no longer had any trustworthy supporters—only hangers-on or enemies.
“The timing of that event was particularly poor,” the Crown Prince said. “My mother had already passed away. I ended up with no one backing me. Saike’s support is tentative at best. When I told them about the attempt on my life, they thought I was a boy making up stories for attention.”
The Lord of Saike’s solution to Nazukihiko’s fear was to confine him within the main Saike estate. He was forcibly kept within the estate’s walls, completely isolated from other nobles and officials in the Imperial Court. He was pampered and spoiled like a princess and told not to worry about politics at all.
“As long as you are healthy, that’s all that matters. You don’t need to think about anything else,” the people who cared for Nazukihiko had said. They’d repeated things like that often as if repetition would make him believe the words. “Just leave everything to your family.”
The Saike family saw Nazukihiko as a resource that they wanted full control over. The claim that his life had been targeted was used as a pretext to keep him isolated. They didn’t think about much beyond that.
Still a child—and now a miserable one—Nazukihiko had reached out to the few allies he had left. If he wanted to escape from his family, he would have to leave Yamauchi entirely.
“So that’s why you studied abroad for so many years,” Yukiya said. It made sense, but it was surprising. He’d never thought the Crown Prince was trying to escape when he’d gone to travel the world.
The Crown Prince nodded in satisfaction. “Exactly. I stayed away until I was capable of standing against the Four Families. I returned when I believed I was able to protect myself. Unfortunately, ninety-nine point nine percent of the Imperial Court is against me.”
Yukiya sighed. “Is that why you don’t let anyone inside the Sun Palace?” he asked quietly.
“Yes. I don’t know who can be trusted,” the Crown Prince replied.
That explained the state of the garden. The oddly trimmed trees and shrubs improved visibility and cut down on places where people could hide.
“I rearranged the garden after someone shot at me from behind a tree,” the Crown Prince said.
Yukiya grimaced. “And that’s why you told me not to drink the well water?”
“Yes. The well water was poisoned at one point.”
“What happened?” Yukiya asked. He was amazed that the Crown Prince hadn’t died from that.
The Crown Prince gave him a thin smile. “People underestimate me. You shouldn’t do that.” He paused, then added, “I was poisoned frequently as a child. It happened at least once a year.” He stuck out the tip of his tongue briefly. “So I’m quite familiar with poisons. I can sniff them out now. You could call it a special skill.”
What an incredible skill to have, Yukiya thought. He was more dumbfounded than impressed. Gaining such knowledge via assassination attempts was insane to him.
“You really have survived a lot,” Yukiya said.
“That’s because I’ve always had at least one steadfast ally. He makes up for the other ninety nine point nine percent of people who oppose me.” He stopped leaning against the pillar. “Now that you understand the situation, Yukiya, let’s move on to the most important topic.”
“And what’s that?” Yukiya asked. He took a step back as the Crown Prince approached him.
“Will you be my ally?” the Crown Prince asked.
“No,” Yukiya said. “I refuse.” He said this reflexively, not thinking about it at all. That was his answer.
“Hmm… so you refuse,” the Crown Prince said, frowning slightly.
“You seem surprised,” Yukiya said. How could the Crown Prince believe that Yukiya would choose to support him after surviving such a terrible attack? He glared at the Crown Prince.
The Crown Prince’s frown deepened. “But you said that if there was a good reason for you becoming my personal attendant, you would accept the position.”
Yukiya nodded slowly. “You need a personal attendant that you can trust. But why does that attendant have to be me?”
The Crown Prince gave him a condescending look, one that asked, “Isn’t it obvious?” without words. Then he said, “Consider the position I’m in. I can’t trust anyone, no matter how capable they are. Even well-intentioned and honest people can be exploited. I can’t speak to anyone careless enough to talk about details of my personal affairs with others. I worry about being killed in my sleep.”
“I understand that you’re in a difficult position,” Yukiya said. “But…” He thought about what the Crown Prince had just said. Why would he tell him all that unless he trusted him already? Didn’t such confessions imply a certain level of trust?
“You are very capable, Yukiya. Above all, you have the courage never to betray someone you’ve agreed to support,” the Crown Prince said. He smiled warmly and sincerely.
Yukiya was at a loss for words.
“You are trustworthy,” the Crown Prince said.
“I think you give me far too much credit,” Yukiya said. “Back in Taruhi Village, I’m nothing but my father’s good-for-nothing second son. I’m not talented or special in any way. Your Imperial Highness could certainly find someone worthier than me to be your personal attendant.” His eyes were on the floor.
The Crown Prince considered for a moment and then said, “Your reputation in your village… did you act in ways to make people believe that about you? Perhaps you did that on purpose.”
Yukiya flinched.
“You’ve managed to accomplish every task I’ve assigned to you,” the Crown Prince said. “I didn’t mean to insult you or impugn your motives. I believe that you acted that way in your village because you’re an exceptionally clever boy.”
Yukiya didn’t lift his head. There was no need for him to put on a brave face now. Miserable and ashamed, he kept his eyes cast down.
In contrast, the Crown Prince seemed to be in a good mood. “The tasks I gave you when you arrived were the same ones I assigned to the other attendants who came to the Sun Palace,” he said.
The six young men from noble families in the city who’d preceded Yukiya.
“We can put aside whether or not they were trustworthy for the moment,” the Crown Prince said. “None of them managed to complete the tasks I assigned to them. Not a single one.”
“Is that why?” Yukiya asked.
“Why what?”
“Why you think I’m clever,” Yukiya said. He felt disappointed. The Crown Prince was overestimating his abilities.
“Do you think you’re not?” the Crown Prince asked.
“There’s a difference between city nobles and nobles from the territories,” Yukiya said. He looked up at the Crown Prince. “They don’t like to transform. They’re not used to it. They probably had to borrow or rent horses just to get around, so they always ran out of time. I’m used to transforming, so it was no bother. That’s why I managed to complete everything. I had enough time.”
The Crown Prince shrugged. “That’s probably one of the reasons that the other attendants struggled, but it’s not the only one. The other attendants couldn’t even understand my orders. They did everything wrong.”
Yukiya tilted his head, puzzled. His eyes met the Crown Prince’s.
“Take watering the plants as an example. Even when the flowers you were watering withered, you just left them as they were, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Yukiya said. “I thought you were testing the difference between the waterfall’s water and the well water.” Most of the potted plants that were watered with only well water were withering and dying. The Crown Prince had never complained about that, though, so Yukiya had kept watering the plants as usual. He’d thought that the difference between the thriving and dying plants was due to the water, but he hadn’t known the Crown Prince’s intent, so he’d never asked about it.
“I thought that you were deliberately giving the same plant water from different sources as an experiment of some kind,” Yukiya said. “You don’t look like someone who grows flowers as a hobby.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
The Crown Prince told Yukiya that the other attendants hadn’t grasped that. They’d secretly given the wilting flowers fertilizer or they’d replanted them. They’d believed that they were doing good in keeping all of the plants alive, but to the Crown Prince, all their meddling was unnecessary and interfered with his experiment.
As Yukiya listened to the Crown Prince’s explanations, he realized that the other attendants had called him a fool because they hadn’t understood the purpose behind his instructions. He also realized that the Crown Prince always gave him his tasks in order of priority.
The Crown Prince was not a fool, then.
“I’ve taken a look at the books you borrow from the library,” Yukiya said. “I think you are quite diligent in your studies, aside from poetry and literature.”
“If it’s a choice between reading about the feelings of a young noble in unrequited love with a courtesan or reading practical books, I think the latter is far more useful. What should a future Emperor read? The answer seems obvious.”
Yukiya nodded. “But your tutor is furious with you for not reading your literature assignments.”
The Crown Prince sighed. “I don’t think that poetry and literature have no value. I just don’t understand why I’m assigned to memorize love poems like they’re prayers or something. The assignments are useless. That’s why I never ordered anyone to do the assignments in my place. No one would learn anything by doing them.”
“I think that maybe your other attendants tried to do your assignments for you because you weren’t clear about that,” Yukiya said. “They might have been trying to win your favor by taking such a boring task off your hands.” Yukiya didn’t know that for sure, of course, but he understood that reasoning.
The Crown Prince brushed Yukiya’s speculation aside. “In any case, you are the most capable attendant I have ever had. Despite that, you call yourself a ‘good-for-nothing second son.’ I have also heard reports from Taruhi Village that you never win when you spar, choosing to forfeit instead of fighting.”
“Who told you all that?” Yukiya asked, his voice rising in irritation.
The Crown Prince didn’t answer. “That commotion you caused during the New Year’s celebration this year—was that intentional?”
Yukiya’s mouth snapped shut.
The Crown Prince looked Yukiya up and down, appraising him with his amethyst-colored eyes. He smiled a little.
Yukiya realized the prince wouldn’t be distracted from this subject. His shoulders slumped in defeat. “It’s not like I was deliberately pretending to be stupid.” He sighed deeply and then raised his head. He’d been caught out, so there was no need to hide anything anymore. His answering smile was crooked, but it was genuine. The Crown Prince was seeing at least a little bit of his true self in that smile.
“You’re right that I caused trouble on purpose during the New Year’s celebration, though I had good reasons for doing so. I think I went a bit too far, otherwise I would never have been sent here to suffer.” He shot the Crown Prince a resentful look.
“So you do have a mean streak in you after all,” the Crown Prince said. He sounded impressed.
“I’m honored by your observation, but compared to city nobles, I’m an adorable puppy,” Yukiya said, his crooked smile evening out a bit. “If I hadn’t acted up at the New Year’s celebration, everything would have been blamed on the villagers and the priest would have gotten away with stealing from them. Even my father believes that.” He frowned bitterly. “There was no other way to see justice served.”
The Crown Prince chuckled. “Deception for justice’s sake. You’re really something. Are you sure you don’t want to be my personal attendant?” His smile lit his eyes; he looked like a mischievous child.
Yukiya was used to reprimands, but not compliments of any kind. He had only ever been called a fool or a moron by his father. Receiving praise made him feel ill at ease.
“I am very grateful for your consideration, but working in the capital is impossible for me,” Yukiya said. “I have decided to live for the sake of Taruhi Village. That’s where I belong.”
Yukiya bowed his head apologetically.
The Crown Prince looked disappointed as he replied, “I see.”
Yukiya felt sorry for the Crown Prince, but he couldn’t help him. Not as a personal attendant, anyway. He looked at the floor again, feeling a bit guilty.
When the Crown Prince spoke again, he sounded cheerful. “If you return home before a year has passed, you’ll be sent to the Keisōin, right?”
Yukiya looked up in surprise. The Crown Prince was grinning at him, gleeful.
“So you have to stay at the Sun Palace for at least a year.”
Yukiya looked like he’d swallowed a stick whole. “How do you know such things?”
“Because I am a true Golden Raven,” he said as if that explained everything.
Yukiya’s cheeks stiffened. “That’s not an explanation, Your Imperial Highness.”
Yukiya’s protest was ignored as if it didn’t matter.
“I want to remedy the current situation. Within a year, I want to bring a consort here from Sakura Palace and officially ascend the throne. I intend to do it. But for that to happen, several other things need to happen first. I don’t even know who in the Imperial Court is an enemy or an ally, though it’s safe to assume that most of them are enemies. I must identify the people who are trying to assassinate me and get incontrovertible evidence of their plotting. If I do that, I’ll gain a few allies based on principle alone, and then things can progress from there.
“I don’t care if you can only be my ally for a year,” the Crown Prince said. “I need allies now. Will you serve me until I discover who is trying to murder me?”
Yukiya blinked. Was the Crown Prince being serious? It seemed so.
“Why do you value me so much?” Yukiya asked. He couldn’t remember doing anything that the Crown Prince especially liked. The Crown Prince had never been particularly friendly toward him. He shouldn’t have high expectations of me, Yukiya thought. He’ll just be disappointed later if he does.
“Isn’t it enough to know that I do value you?” the Crown Prince asked. “People say I’m incompetent. They call me a good-for-nothing second son just like you. But I am an excellent judge of character. I know that you will never betray me.”
Yukiya no longer believed that the Crown Prince was an incompetent fool. It was all an act to draw in enemies and make them complacent. Even so, he found the Crown Prince’s judgment of him somewhat dubious.
“How could you possibly know that?” Yukiya asked.
“Because I don’t believe the enemy could offer you anything more valuable than the trust I’ve placed in you.”
Yukiya rubbed his forehead to clear the lines from it and thought, I can’t believe he said that. I think I lost this battle. “I’m still going home after a year. My family and my village are very important to me. Hokke is involved in this. Sooner or later, Taruhi Village will be caught up in the struggles of the Imperial Court. If that’s my reason for helping you, would you accept that? I couldn’t sit still and be idle if trouble came to my village because I failed to act.”
The Crown Prince’s smile widened. “I understand. That reason is fine by me. For now.”
Yukiya stared at him. “All right, then,” he said. “I accept—for now. Until the year is up, I swear to serve you faithfully and wholeheartedly.”
The Crown Prince smiled like a flower blooming. “Excellent! With you here, I feel like I’ve added a hundred men to my retinue. I’ll be relying on you from now on.”
“I don’t know how much help I can actually be—”
“That’s not true. Your presence itself is reassuring. It was worth coming all the way to the pleasure district just for this.”
The Crown Prince seemed genuinely relieved to have gained an ally.
Yukiya remained silent, seeking comfort in the plain stillness of the floor. Then he tensed. “Excuse me, did you just say, ‘coming all the way to the pleasure district?’ What does that mean?”
“I thought I should show you the reason why you must be my attendant. Seeing is believing, after all,” he said without the slightest hint of guilt.
“I hope I’m wrong, but…” Yukiya said, his voice trembling as he trailed off.
“What is it?”
“You didn’t stage that attack on purpose, did you?”
The Crown Prince’s face went blank as he considered the question.
“I mean, you didn’t hire those people to kill you, obviously, but you deliberately made a scene and drew their notice, right?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I did. I’ve noticed more people following me lately and I knew an attack would be coming soon. I thought it would be a good opportunity to show you what I’m up against. So that you would understand. Did I do something wrong?”
Yukiya felt something snap inside him. “Are you stupid?! How reckless can you be?!” he shouted, slamming both hands down on the rice mat floor.
“Why are you angry?” The Crown Prince asked, sounding genuinely curious.
Yukiya ran both hands through his hair and held on. “You are far too careless. If things had gone badly, you would have died! Why are you underestimating your enemies like this? You’ll get your throat cut someday soon if you keep acting like this.”
Sumio had been there, but he’d been one man against a dozen, plus the archer. One false step and they all would have been killed.
Yukiya’s head hurt. How much money had the Crown Prince spent to lure in his enemies? Far too much, in Yukiya’s opinion. And he’d done all this to make Yukiya his ally? That was unbelievable.
He might not be a fool, but he certainly is strange, Yukiya thought.
“Do you think so?” the Crown Prince asked.
Before Yukiya could say more, there was a knock on the door. “Your Imperial Highness, it’s Sumio. I have just returned.”
“Very well. Enter.”
Sumio slid the door open. He glanced between the Crown Prince, who was grinning broadly, and Yukiya, who was frowning thunderously.
“Don’t worry. Everything went well,” the Crown Prince said. He clasped Sumio’s shoulder briefly. “From now on, he’s one of us.”
Yukiya appealed mutely to Sumio. The man seemed sorry for him, but all he said was, “Well, that’s good.” The corner of his mouth twitched up slightly. “Let me greet you formally as the Crown Prince’s official personal attendant, then. The Crown Prince is notoriously picky and eccentric. He might get on your nerves once in a while, but bear with it. You do get used to things. He means you no harm. As soon as you understand that, you’ll get along with him without any trouble.
Sumio’s casual attitude surprised Yukiya. “Sir Sumio, when did you become His Imperial Highness’ guard?”
“Just call me Sumio.” He sat down cross-legged. “I only became his guard recently, but we’ve known each other since we were kids.”
“Sumio is the only member of the Yamauchishu that I can trust,” the Crown Prince said.
“You don’t trust the Imperial Guards?” Yukiya asked, incredulous.
“Ever since my father took over, the Yamauchishu have been corrupt,” the Crown Prince said bitterly.
The Yamauchishu—the imperial family’s guards—were an institution in Yamauchi. For hundreds of years, they’d followed the same code of ethics and had the shared goal of defending the imperial family from all dangers. Successive generations of Golden Ravens also visited the Keisōin, building rapport between themselves and their future guards.
The current Emperor had not visited the Keisōin and he’d made no attempts at camaraderie or friendship with the current generation of Imperial Guards. He disliked martial arts in general and left governing entirely to his vassals. He spent his days indulging in music and other entertainments within the Inner Palace.
The Yamauchishu had made their own overtures and shows of support for the Emperor at first. Long years of indifference and neglect had eroded their loyalty. That was how corruption had crept in.
Skilled warriors who would have joined the Imperial Guards under any other circumstances took employment elsewhere once they understood that the Emperor had no regard for them. Palace ravens—sons of noble families—flocked to open positions in the Yamauchishu’s prestigious military academy and graduated using bribes and their family’s influence instead of skill. To make matters worse, noble families tended to send their most troublesome sons to the Keisōin, not their first-born or most competent children. The current crop of Yamauchishu acted only out of self-interest and personal gain, having lost the core of their function.
The Four Families also exploited circumstances within the Keisōin to spy on the imperial family.
“In the past ten years, the Keisōin has come to value family status more than actual ability,” the Crown Prince said. “Their corruption is a microcosm of the rot eating at the whole of the Imperial Court.”
Yukiya winced. His uncle was exceedingly proud of his service in the Imperial Guards. If he heard about this, he would be angry—or ashamed. He might faint on the spot, unable to bear the horrible knowledge.
“Not everyone who graduates from the Keisōin is incompetent, of course,” the Crown Prince said. “Most have forgotten their true purpose, which is protecting the imperial family. No one really knows who is backing whom these days. That’s why Sumio is my only guard and my only ally among the Yamauchishu. I’ve known him since we were children.”
Sumio nodded. “I act formal in front of others, but if no one’s around, I’m always like this,” he said in his usual clipped, fast speech.
“Really?” Yukiya asked.
“Yep. Can I talk like this in front of you from now on?”
“Sure,” Yukiya said. He didn’t care much for stuffy formality, either.
Sumio bowed. Yukiya bowed back.
“Good to be working with you officially,” Sumio said. “Seventh time’s the charm.” Then he faced the Crown Prince. “I have news.”
The Crown Prince’s eyes narrowed. He nodded. “Speak.”
Yukiya straightened up and listened.
“Those guys who ran away earlier—they’re all dead.”
“What?” the Crown Prince asked.
Sumio’s expression was grim. The Crown Prince didn’t appear surprised, but his frown matched Sumio’s almost exactly. He’d expected bad news, but not this bad.
“Several corpses were found in the forest outside the city. It’s causing quite a commotion at the moment. I checked the bodies and I recognized them. None of their wounds seemed serious, so I don’t think they died of blood loss.”
“Poison, then,” the Crown Prince said. His forehead crinkled.
“Most likely,” Sumio said. “A slow-acting poison, likely imbibed without their knowledge. If they had poisoned themselves deliberately, they wouldn’t have broken and ran so easily.”
“So it’s reasonable to think they were made to drink it beforehand by the mastermind of this plot. To silence them.”
“Some of them had alcohol on their breath when I fought them,” Sumio said. “That’s probably how the poison got in them.”
The Crown Prince appeared troubled. “How irritatingly thorough. No loose ends. It’ll be hard to find the mastermind of the plot this way. They’re slippery as a lizard. Grab them by the tail, and they’ll shed it and grow a new one.”
The Crown Prince had no real allies in the Imperial Court. He couldn’t prove that he’d been attacked without witnesses or the conspirators themselves. The conspirators were all dead and the only witnesses were in this room. They had no way to prove what had happened now.
“If we report the crime, people will think that some ruffians targeted a wealthy noble,” the Crown Prince said. He pondered what to do next.
“There’s something else,” Sumio said. He removed a gold ingot about the size of a thumb and shaped like a tiny hammer from his breast pocket.
“Where did you get that?” the Crown Prince asked.
“This was on all of the dead men. I thought it might connect them to their employer somehow. Maybe it’s payment for the attack.”
Yukiya had been watching and listening. The little gold hammer was familiar to him. “May I take a look at that?” he asked.
“Sure.” The Crown Prince handed it to him.
Yukiya turned the hammer over and found traces of an engraving. Most of it had been rubbed out—deliberately defaced. But Yukiya had seen hammers like this before, and he knew what the engraving was supposed to be.
“I know exactly what this is,” Yukiya said. He gripped the lump of gold tightly in one hand.
“Really?” Sumio asked. “You’ve only just become a personal attendant, but you’re already quite impressive.”
Yukiya frowned at the compliment. “This is serious. This thing is a good luck coin. They give them out as gifts during the New Year’s celebration at the Lord of Hokke’s estate.”
“The Lord of Hokke?” Sumio asked.
“And you’re certain of this?” the Crown Prince asked at the same time.
Sumio and the Crown Prince exchanged uncomfortable glances.
Yukiya nodded firmly. “I’m certain. They must have destroyed the engraving so that these wouldn’t be recognized immediately. Anyone from Hokke would know what this was. I remember the design that was supposed to be engraved on this. I saw it at the New Year’s celebration this year.”
“How many people received them?” the Crown Prince asked.
“They’re distributed per household,” Yukiya said, his frown deepening. “A large household would receive quite a few. A small household, perhaps a handful or two. They’re made especially for the city nobles visiting Hokke for the new year. My family gets them, too, but we’re an exception. These are mainly for noble families who can only visit Hokke to give greetings and celebrate with the Lord of Hokke’s family once a year.”
The Crown Prince and Sumio exchanged glances.
“I didn’t expect Hokke to be involved,” Sumio said darkly.
“In any case, well done,” the Crown Prince said. “This is an excellent analysis.”
Sumio reached out to ruffle Yukiya’s hair.
Yukiya didn’t even try to push him off. He was staring at the tiny golden hammer in his hand with a puzzled expression. “There’s something very strange about all this,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I think this good luck coin is from this year, judging by the design.” Yukiya tapped the surface of the gold with his fingernail. “You’re not supposed to use this the same year it’s given to you. That’s tradition.”
According to the customs of Hokke territory, gold good luck coins distributed during the New Year’s celebration were considered charms that warded away misfortune. They were meant to be kept and not spent until a new good luck coin was received the next year. That was one reason that the design of the coin changed from year to year. Coins could be distinguished more easily that way.
“So why did the person who hired those men pay with these?” Yukiya asked. Yes, the engraving had been erased, which made it harder to tell where the gold had come from, but even so. Good luck coins from Hokke were distinctive. They weren’t ordinary currency.
Anyone who received a good luck coin like this had the Lord of Hokke’s regard. Yukiya never expected to find one in the hands of ruffians. That was wrong. He looked up, waiting for the Crown Prince’s answer.
The Crown Prince tapped his chin. He was deep in thought. “Perhaps they paid with these because they had no other choice,” he said.
Yukiya frowned. Why try to implicate the Lord of Hokke by choosing a symbol of loyalty and honor as payment? Unless…
“What do you mean by that?”
“It’s just speculation at this point,” the Crown Prince said. He muttered something under his breath that Yukiya didn’t quite catch. “It’s clear that this attack has some connection to the Lord of Hokke’s family. More than that, I cannot say.” He clapped his hands and closed his eyes briefly, refocusing his attention away from what he’d just learned. “Sumio, check the Lord of Hokke’s city residence over before looking into the men who attacked us. That includes the grounds.”
“Understood,” Sumio said.
“Yukiya, did you see the face of the person who shot the man?”
“I did, briefly. But it was only for a moment, and at a distance. I think I’d be able to recognize them if I saw them again, though.”
The archer had hidden on purpose, perhaps because they would be easily recognized. A servant or retainer in the Lord of Hokke’s household would have good reason to hide.
Both the Crown Prince and Sumio suspected that the archer served the Lord of Hokke in some way. Of course, they couldn’t prove that, either. They were using Yukiya’s shaky memories and more pointed observations to form a theory. More information made matters easier to investigate.
“I really don’t think the archer serves the Lord of Hokke,” Yukiya said. “I would have recognized them for certain if they were one of his servants or retainers. I’ve lived in Hokke territory all my life.”
“We still can’t rule out the possibility,” Sumio said.
“Yes, you can,” Yukiya said. “I’m not that stupid. The archer wasn’t someone I know.”
Sumio and the Crown Prince didn’t respond to that. Sumio looked down, confused or saddened into silence.
“Um, did I say something weird?” Yukiya asked. He looked to the Crown Prince for reassurance.
“Don’t worry about it,” the Crown Prince said. “I understand what you said and I believe you. Let’s proceed with the investigation as planned.”
“Yes,” Sumio said. He nodded and then stood up.
“Yukiya, you’re coming with me,” the Crown Prince said.
“Yes, Your Imperial Highness.” He stood up, too. “Where are we going now?” He’d thought that they would return to the Sun Palace, but maybe that wasn’t the case.
The Crown Prince stared into space for a moment and then nodded to himself. He hmmed thoughtfully. “We’re going gambling, of course.”
Translator's Notes
Rakujō literally means “fallen woman.” It is not clear from the context if this woman’s position is derogatory or not, though it doesn’t seem like it. “Fallen” in this sense refers to a literal drop from a height and doesn’t necessarily have moral connotations.
The ceremonial baton, or shaku, is a wooden or ivory baton carried in the right hand when wearing ceremonial imperial or religious garb. Shaku tend to be short, about a twelve inches (30 cm) long and not much longer.
The Peach Blossom Spring was a fable written by Tao Yuanming in 421 CE about a chance discovery of an ethereal utopia where the people lead an ideal existence in harmony with nature, unaware of the outside world. The phrase can be used to describe an idealistic place of beauty and repose, although it is sometimes used to refer to an unrealistic dream.
Moonwatch Tower, Shougetsurou, literally means “watch moon tower.”
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