Yatagarasu Series
Volume 8:
The Raven's Reminiscence
Author: Abe Chisato
Part 6: Last Will and Testament
“This can’t be a coincidence.”
Genki had restrained himself from careless remarks in the Imperial Hall, but he was close to boiling over internally. The moment he entered his own office, he collapsed heavily onto a cushion and raked his fingers through his hair.
Genya, his father, and Kiei, his son, followed him into his office. So did Yukiya, at his own invitation. He was eager to hear what Yukiya thought of this mess.
All of the decision-makers of the Hokke family were present.
“Of course this isn’t a coincidence,” the Lord of Hokke said.
Yukiya nodded firmly. “You’re right. It’s not.”
***
Yukiya remembered the aftermath of Natsumihiko’s pronouncement with vague nausea.
The Imperial Court was in an uproar. Prince Nagihiko’s existence had been concealed from them all.
Tōru, the former Lord of Nanke, moved to calm Natsuka, who was visibly agitated. “This is unseemly,” he said as he grasped Natsuka’s arm. “You are a priest. Your mother has been tried and convicted of great crimes. You removed yourself from the line of succession decades ago. Calm yourself.” He said this without looking directly at Natsuka. His own agitation threatened his composure, but he tamped it down. Now was not the time for rash displays of anger. “He is your brother, and you have no right to oppose his appointment as heir.”
Yukiya understood just how thoroughly this trap had been constructed and ground his teeth.
So did the Lord of Saike. “Yes,” he said. “Prince Natsuka, you have taken religious vows, and His Imperial Majesty has fathered another heir in secret. It is quite shocking, not to say unconscionable.” His voice shook. “Emperor Nazukihiko is barely in the grave, and he appoints a new imperial prince. Such disrespect cannot be borne. Why not name Princess Shion as his heir if Prince Natsuka is so unacceptable to him?”
Natsuka nodded rapidly and took a gulping breath. “That’s exactly right. If Princess Shion becomes his heir, I can serve as her guardian. That was my plan from the very start. How could this have happened?”
“Well,” Lord Aotsugu of Touke drawled, “I can’t say I expected this, but now that it’s happened, you’ll all understand why my family must support Prince Nagihiko’s claim. It’s not personal. It’s just politics.”
“Treacherous snake,” Natsuka said with a sneer. “You got sick of manipulating the levers of power in the background, didn’t you? You deliberately offered your sister to my father.”
“I didn’t—” the Lord of Touke began.
“I only wished to comfort Natsumihiko,” Asebi said, cutting him off. Her voice was as clear as a bell.
Several people gasped.
Asebi, the picture of understated sorrow, crouched down and pulled her son close to her. The boy looked around the room and clung to her in fright.
“I feel as if I am being torn into pieces,” Asebi said with a wail of anguish. “What happened to Emperor Nazukihiko has shaken me to my very core. To think that such a terrible thing could happen…” Her voice broke. Tears coursed down her cheeks. She was painfully lovely in her grief, like a painting of a weeping angel.
The Lord of Touke hastened protectively to his younger sister’s side. He glared reproachfully at Natsuka.
Natsuka had gone quiet.
“His Imperial Majesty summoned my sister himself,” Lord Aotsugu said. “We did not take it upon ourselves to do anything. If you believe that I seek to become Prince Nagihiko’s guardian out of selfish desire, could not the same not be said of you, Prince Natsuka? You wish to become Princess Shion’s guardian.”
That was what Shiun no In would have said.
Natsuka said nothing in reply.
“I will become the princess’s guardian!” the Lord of Saike called out. “Surely there can be no objection to that.”
The Lord of Touke shrugged. “His Imperial Majesty has already appointed Prince Nagihiko as his heir. There is no reason for Princess Shion to be put forward as a successor. The White Raven would not have approved the young prince’s nomination if there was a problem with his claim.” He smiled around the room like an indulgent parent calming unruly children.
***
“How do you see this situation?” the Lord of Hokke asked.
“We must accept that Nanke and Touke joined hands some time ago,” Yukiya said. “There’s no other explanation for this chain of events. I believe the Lord of Nanke is planning to set up Nagihiko as another puppet ruler.”
Yukiya remembered how stricken the former empress had been when her brother had abandoned her. The siblings were two of a kind. Perhaps the Lord of Nanke even had a hand in making sure Takimoto would betray his sister. It was hard to know how deeply he was involved with this entire scheme.
“They used Takako to assassinate Nazukihiko and bring down Natsuka as collateral damage. They’ve created a pretext to install Prince Nagihiko as the next emperor.”
The Lord of Nanke had used his sister as a scapegoat to advance his own agenda.
“So the Lord of Nanke does the dirty work and lets the Touke family get the glory,” Genya said musingly.
“What a roundabout way to get what they want,” Kiei said. “You believe this was all some scheme? That it was all planned in advance?”
“I do,” Yukiya said.
“How ridiculous,” Genki spat. He rose from his seat and faced his father squarely. “Father, we cannot countenance this situation, however it came about. The Hokke family must fight. We must fight this with everything we have.”
“If the White Raven approves the nomination of Prince Nagihiko—” Kiei said.
“—then we join forces with Prince Natsuka, stand in solidarity with the Saike family, and oppose the emperor’s proclamation,” Genki said in a voice like bedrock.
“Wait,” Yukiya said. “Let’s talk about this. The White Raven hasn’t opposed Prince Nagihiko’s appointment, which means the Lord of Touke has his cooperation.”
The current White Raven had taken office immediately after Nazukihiko’s ascension. He had never shown any sign of dissatisfaction with the true Golden Raven’s rule. Under normal circumstances, Yukiya would not expect him to approve Prince Nagihiko’s appointment as the emperor’s heir.
But these weren’t normal circumstances, were they?
The Lord of Touke was convinced that the White Raven would side with him. He was confident of that… but why?
Yukiya had spent too long on the back foot. He wished he’d never gone to the human world. He never would have left if he’d known that this would be the result.
Natsuka was going to visit the White Raven now, but Yukiya doubted that Natsuka would change the man’s mind.
“If the acting Golden Raven has appointed Prince Nagihiko as his heir and the White Raven has approved that appointment, then Prince Nagihiko is legally the emperor’s heir. We might be fighting a losing battle. We cannot risk opposing anyone without being sure of where matters stand. Unless we don’t care about being declared rebel traitors.”
Yukiya was convinced that the current situation had been orchestrated by Nanke, including the assassination, but he had no definitive proof—just a lot of circumstantial evidence. The regicide itself had already been settled by Takako’s punishment. He had nothing concrete to attack the Touke family with, and attacking the Nanke family now, right after such a public scandal, would make him appear so partisan that anything he said would be disbelieved.
So Natsuka would be tainted by association with his traitor mother, and Princess Shion would be shunted to the side. Hokke and Saike were powerful and had many resources, but they could not grant Princess Shion legitimacy as a ruler. Yukiya saw no path to victory, and he said so plainly.
“Is that all?” Genki asked. “You have no ideas? You, the military strategist of all of Yamauchi’s armies, are giving up? Why? Might makes right; we can crush the other side, and then it won’t matter who has the legitimate right to rule.”
Yukiya stared at Genki like he’d gone crazy. The man wasn’t joking. His son, Kiei, also looked uncharacteristically solemn and serious.
“What are you saying?” Yukiya asked.
“I’m saying that if we fight, we will win.”
“When you say fight, you mean a violent attack? With weapons?”
“Of course.” Genki leaned forward. “We are warriors. We always have been. The other families have forgotten that we are not mere common laborers, content to build dams and turn mountains into fields.” He nodded in self-satisfaction.
“Justice is on our side. Let us prove why we are the greatest warriors in all of Yamauchi once more and make sure the other families never forget that again,” Kiei said. “What do you think, grandfather? Do you agree?”
The Lord of Hokke grunted and made a thinking face that was very similar to Yukiya’s thinking face.
Yukiya looked away from him uncomfortably. He hoped that the Lord of Hokke would not choose a path of violence. Even if Princess Shion became Nazukihiko’s heir as a result, the damage to Yamauchi would be too great. The price for her to rule now was too high.
When the Four Families went to war, the common people suffered. Everyone suffered. Yamauchi was already facing an existential threat; it didn’t need a civil war on top of that.
Dismiss it with one word. Call it foolishness. Do it now, Yukiya thought, more than half-praying to a mountain god he despised.
“We must seek the White Raven’s judgment,” the Lord of Hokke said. “We can decide what to do after that. If he has gone as mad at the rest of the Imperial Court, we shall consider taking up arms in Princess Shion’s cause.”
Yukiya doubted his own ears.
“Yes, Lord!” Genki and Kiei said in unison as they bowed their heads. They were exhilarated by the thought of the coming conflict.
Yukiya stared at them in stunned disbelief.
The Hokke family had been suppressing a militant bent for years. Now that there were no Kuisaru to fight, they were content to turn their swords on their own people and shed the blood of the innocent. Yukiya would never have believed them capable of this.
Was he capable of it? Fighting—and killing—his own people?
Nazukihiko wouldn’t want this.
But Nazukihiko was dead.
***
“I intend to approve Prince Nagihiko’s appointment as an imperial prince,” the White Raven said to Natsuka.
They were sitting in the White Raven’s Hall. The White Raven himself wore a spotless robe the color of pure snow. Delicate blue patterns were embroidered on the hem and sleeves.
Natsuka still wore his priest’s robes, which were cut in the same style as the White Raven’s. The similarity between them was painfully transparent to him, as was the White Raven’s blatant hypocrisy.
“Why?” Natsuka asked. How many times had he asked that today? Too many.
He’d always gotten along with the current White Raven, who was the former White Raven’s Archpriest and staunchest supporter. He had frequently traveled with Nazukihiko and Natsuka to various places during the Kuisaru invasion. His priests had shared watches with Yamauchishu. He understood the world of politics and had always cooperated with Nazukihiko as much as he could. What had changed?
“Since when have you been working with them?” Natsuka asked. “I don’t understand why you would do something so foolish.”
“You don’t?” The White Raven raised an eyebrow. There were dark circles under his eyes. “You and your brother created this situation, not I. Nazukihiko paid the price for his own carelessness.”
Natsuka bristled. “Without a true Golden Raven, Yamauchi will collapse in on itself, and no one will be able to stop it.”
“Nazukihiko was not a true Golden Raven,” the White Raven said, incensed. “He had none of the memories that should have been passed down to him by his ancestors! His powers were weaker than they should have been! You drove Yamauchi to the brink of ruin through your own actions, and now, at this late stage, you claim that there is no one but you who can save it.”
The White Raven held out his hands in a forbidding gesture. “No more, Prince Natsuka. When Nazukihiko realized he was an imperfect being, he ought to have withdrawn from the world of politics. Instead, he concealed his own flaws, and now everyone in Yamauchi is paying the price.”
Natsuka wanted to say, “That’s not true.” He wanted to say, “Nazukihiko cared for the Yatagarasu more than anyone I’ve ever met.” But he didn’t. It was clear that the White Raven would not listen to him.
Nazukihiko had run himself ragged during the war with the Kuisaru to prevent Yamauchi’s destruction. Had the White Raven failed to notice that?
“What Yamauchi needs now is a new true Golden Raven,” the White Raven said. “And yet, Nazukihiko tried to pass off his insufficient female offspring as his heir. He didn’t even try to beget a male heir. And you encouraged him! You did not admonish him or show him the error of his ways. You failed in your duty as a Souke noble, and I wash my hands of you.”
The White Raven was determined to blame Natsuka for everything because Nazukihiko was dead.
Natsuka closed his eyes.
***
Natsuka left the Ministry of Divinity under a cloud. He walked directly into Yukiya. He told Yukiya everything because Yukiya would care and he wasn’t sure if anyone else would.
Yukiya nodded. “Yeah, we should have expected that.” He looked as wrung out as Natsuka felt. “The Lord of Touke and the Lord of Nanke have been planning this for a long time. Since the last Rite of Ascension, probably. Things are certainly going their way now.”
“What did the Lord of Hokke say?” Natsuka asked.
“That if the White Raven approves Nagihiko’s appointment, we should join hands with the Saike family and raise an army in rebellion.”
The fine hairs on the back of Natsuka’s neck stood on end. “Is he insane?”
“I’m not sure. It’s not a sane plan.”
Natsuka clenched his fists. “This insanity has been building for years—decades—and we didn’t notice. My own incompetence disgusts me.” He swallowed heavily. “We have been so focused on saving Yamauchi from external destruction that we forgot about the forces that can tear it apart from the inside. We chose the wrong path; I admit that.” He took a shuddering breath.
“What should we have done?” Yukiya asked. “If we hadn’t preserved Yamauchi’s existence after that fiasco with the mountain god, there’d be a lot more blood on our hands.”
“My brother’s blood is on our hands.” He sighed. “We’ve come this far. We need to figure out where we can go from here.” His voice was as small and weak as a child’s. He did not want to believe it was his own.
If they did nothing, Yamauchi would rebel. There would be civil war. Supporting Nagihiko’s claim with the aim of preventing war wasn’t the right choice, either: that would only delay the inevitable conflict and trample all over Nazukihiko’s wishes for the future of Yamauchi.
Yukiya’s eyes were hooded from fear and exhaustion. Before he could reply to Natsuka, a Yamauchishu sprinted over to them.
“Prince Natsuka!” Haruma called out, waving his arms in a panic.
Haruma was supposed to be on guard duty at Shion Temple today. He was in charge of protecting Hamayū and Shion.
“I have terrible news,” Haruma said. “Empress Hamayū has taken Princess Shion and left Shion Temple.”
Natsuka’s mind went tripping backwards. “What?”
“I tried to stop them, but she forced her way to a horse and—” His eyes flicked between Yukiya and Natsuka. “There’s no time.”
Yukiya nodded. “Where are they now?”
Natsuka asked the question at almost the same time.
Haruma’s face twisted as he said, “They went to the Sun Palace. Their ladies-in-waiting and several guards went with them.”
***
The Sun Palace was the crown prince’s residence. It sat upon a rocky outcropping on the mountain that housed the Imperial Court.
Yukiya flew straight for the Sun Palace right after Haruma delivered the news of Hamayū’s and Shion’s whereabouts. Haruma followed him. En route, it began to rain, soaking their feathers. The ground misted and then fogged; it was difficult to navigate with any accuracy.
They lost time to difficult travel. Yukiya and Haruma landed on the balcony of a tower in the Sun Palace and took human form. When they entered the Sun Palace, guards and ladies-in-waiting swarmed them.
Princess Shion sat in the room they’d entered, weeping into her hands. “Yuki?” she asked, sniffling. She ran to him.
Yukiya caught her shoulders and knelt down to her level. “What happened? Are you all right?”
“Mother said I have to stay here.”
Yukiya looked around. Ladies-in-waiting and Yamauchishu could not hold his gaze. He recognized Kikuno and waved to her.
“Where is Hamayū?” Yukiya asked her.
Before Kikuno could answer, Hamayū herself entered the room. “Here I am.” She stood with a regal stiffness that didn’t suit her. She wore her black feather robe and a sash with no ornamentation. Her long black hair cascaded down her back. She could have been a commoner based on how she was dressed.
“Princess, come this way.” Kikuno took Shion by the hand and led her downstairs with the guards.
Shion looked back anxiously at her mother and Yukiya, but she let Kikuno lead her away without complaint.
Yukiya waited until the sound of Shion’s footsteps faded before asking, “What are you doing, Hamayū?”
Nazukihiko had planned to have Princess Shion move into the Sun Palace at some point, but she wasn’t supposed to be here now. The former emperor’s wife and daughter had no right to live in the Sun Palace. There was no historical precedent for them living here.
“The next Golden Raven will be my daughter. She is where she ought to be,” Hamayū said. She appeared outwardly calm, but her eyes betrayed her anger. Yukiya didn’t think he’d ever seen her so angry before.
“Princess Shion has not formally been made the Golden Raven’s heir,” Yukiya said. “She cannot occupy this place legitimately.”
“I don’t care,” Hamayū said. “I’m not going to let the bastards who killed Nazukihiko win.” The light in her eyes went out, leaving black, hollow pits behind. “We will make her claim legitimate, by force if need be. If you are still loyal to him, then summon the Yamauchishu here and pledge the Aerial Army of Heaven to her cause. Avenge your lord. Compel the Yamauchishu to recognize Princess Shion as Nazukihiko’s heir.”
Yukiya was struck dumb. He hadn’t ever expected her to say this aloud, no matter how she felt.
“Are you out of your mind, Hamayū?” Yukiya gritted out. “Do you want her to die? Do you have a death wish?”
Hamayū was telling him to seize power by force, just like his mother’s family had proposed.
“They struck first,” Hamayū said. “We are only taking back what they have stolen. Natsuka is here as well. With the temple guards of Clear Mirror Temple and the military might of the Hokke family, we can win.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
“Face facts. Half of the Four Families are in open rebellion. This conflict has been brewing for years. We must change the Imperial Court. There has to be serious reform to prevent the corruption that resulted in my husband’s murder from taking another innocent life.”
“We do need reform,” Yukiya said. “But not like this. War means more innocent deaths. Even if we win a military conflict, what then? The Imperial Court will not accept a female ruler; they’ve made that much clear to everyone. When Nazukihiko died, we lost that future.”
And Yamauchi might collapse in on itself. That could happen at any time.
“Then you’re saying we should let them have their way?” Hamayū asked. “No! I will not permit it! Nazukihiko was assassinated. His life was taken unjustly to make that woman’s son the imperial heir.” Her hair moved wildly around her like an independent living thing. “Do you feel nothing, Yukiya? Do you not even care that Nazukihiko is dead?”
Yukiya’s face was bloodless. He’d expected Hamayū, of all people, to understand him, and for her to put Yamauchi first. The fact that she didn’t—hadn’t—cracked the wall between his emotions and his physical shell.
She would kill civilians out of anger, Yukiya thought. The days of peace spent cooking and picnicking with Nazukihiko, Shion and Hamayū felt like a dream.
“You can’t do this,” Yukiya said. “This isn’t something you’re supposed to do. Didn’t you tell him that survival was enough? Isn’t there any way to save us all?”
“We had a plan. Things changed. There’s a new plan now.”
“No,” Yukiya said. “There’s still the old plan.”
Hamayū considered this. “You’re right. My daughter must survive. I will make sure she survives by any means necessary.”
Yukiya shook his head slowly. “You’re acting without thinking. We’ve lost, for now. We can wait—try again when circumstances shift in our favor. We cannot start a war for the sake of revenge. Yamauchi will suffer if we do. That isn’t what he would want.” There was only one thing Hamayū and Shion could do now. “Leave. Take your daughter and go.”
“I can’t do that,” Hamayū said. “I’ve already rebelled by bringing Shion here. I won’t be forgiven for that, and neither will she. My daughter is not safe in Yamauchi. I will not have her spend her whole life in fear.”
“Then go to the human world.”
“The Gate of the Vermilion Bird is controlled by the Nanke family. They would chase us to the ends of the earth. The human world is not any safer than Yamauchi.”
Yukiya thought Hamayū was only saying that because she had never seen the human world with her own eyes. He tried to persuade her, but Hamayū just looked at him, her eyes full of pity.
“I won’t run,” Hamayū said. She had chosen this course of action because she didn’t believe there were any good choices left to her. Hamayū’s parents had been executed on false charges. Because of that, her uncle Tōru had become the Lord of Touke. Hamayū had escaped the executioner’s axe thanks to her teacher’s quick thinking: they had run away. She had grown up among commoners until she’d been called back by the Lord of Nanke and put to use.
“I will not let my daughter feel what I felt. We must fight. We cannot let them win.”
“You would go to war for Shion’s sake?” Yukiya asked.
Hamayū fixed him with a hard stare. “If that is necessary, then yes.”
“What about Nazukihiko’s wishes?” Junten asked.
Yukiya jumped.
Junten, the King of the Tengu, was standing in the doorway. He wore his long-nosed red Tengu mask, concealing his face.
“Junten,” Yukiya said.
The King of the Tengu removed his mask. He wore a white priest’s robe.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Empress Hamayū. I am Junten, the King of the Tengu. I had the honor of being your husband’s good friend for many years.” He bowed to Hamayū. “I offer my most sincere condolences for your loss.”
Hamayū stared at him, confused.
Yukiya vaguely remembered that Natsuka had arranged a meeting with the Tengu after the assassination. He hadn’t been present for that meeting, of course. He had assumed that the emergency meeting called by Natsumihiko had made that meeting with the Tengu irrelevant.
Natsuka appeared on the stairs behind Junten, his brow furrowed. “Junten came to see me at the Kōrokan. He said he was willing to wait as long as necessary, and that he wished to speak to me as soon as possible. I thought to call you as well when the moment was right, but…”
But Natsumihiko’s proclamation had turned the world on its head, and Yukiya had been busy chasing after Hamayū and Shion.
“I overheard some of what you said,” Junten said. “I thought it prudent to interrupt. You see, I have been entrusted with Nazukihiko’s last will and testament, which he wrote before his death.”
A sound escaped Yukiya’s throat.
Hamayū’s expression went blank. “He never told me he had a will.”
Junten smiled slightly. “It was never in Yamauchi. He wrote it in the human world. He instructed me to produce it if he died and his successors couldn’t decide on a shared course of action.” His smile flashed off. “He hoped that it would never be necessary, but he planned for every eventuality he could foresee.”
“Including this one,” Yukiya said, awed. Nazukihiko had not been blindsided, not even by his own death.
No, more than that: Nazukihiko had predicted this. He’d seen it coming.
“Is it written in His Imperial Majesty’s own hand?” Yukiya asked. It was tempting to believe Junten, but he might have come here with a forgery.
Junten nodded. He didn’t appear offended by the implied accusation. “I thought you’d ask that. There’s a tamper-proof device on it. He wrote it, and no one else has touched it. I can prove it.”
***
Everyone gathered in the largest hall of the Sun Palace for the reading of Nazukihiko’s will.
There was no seat of honor and no lower seat. Hamayū and her ladies-in-waiting, Natsuka and his attendant priests, and Yukiya and the Yamauchishu all clustered together, forming a circle around the Junten. Princess Shion sat opposite Junten.
A black document box sat in front of Junten. Its surface was covered in smooth fabric. There were no seams or stitches anywhere to be seen. Yukiya wondered if this was technology from the human world, but the black luster of the fabric seemed vaguely familiar.
“When Nazukihiko first went to the human world, he tried all sorts of things,” Junten said. “He tested Yatagarasu powers as well as objects. He was curious about the kinds of human technology that could be put to practical use in Yamauchi.
“Perhaps because he was a true Golden Raven, he could do things that an ordinary Yatagarasu cannot do. He could pass in and out of Yamauchi without using a gate, and he could transform in the human world. As for the feather robe, for ordinary Yatagarasu, it simply fades and disappears over time. But he could maintain his feather robe indefinitely in the human world. It never vanished on its own. When he discovered that, he devised this tamper-proof box.
“I call this a blood covenant box. He told me it was a tasteless name and didn’t like it, but he also didn’t come up with a better name. As you might have guessed, Nazukihiko’s blood was used in its construction. The base is an ordinary document box. He wove his feather robe around it and then dripped a small amount of his blood on the fabric. What results is a document box that is entirely enclosed by this scrap of feather robe, which never fades or vanishes regardless of how much time passes. There are no knots or seams in the fabric, so it is quite secure.
“To be completely honest, if all you want is to keep documents hidden, it isn’t a very practical method. You can just tear the fabric and open the box. But once the fabric has been torn, no one else can repair it, which makes it extremely effective as a tamper-proof seal.
“I understand that this situation is a bit strange, but I assure you that the feather robe is his. No one else could have woven it. No one else can manipulate it—aside from his own child.”
The true Golden Raven’s daughter.
“Me?”
“That should be so. Try to disrupt the weave.”
Before she made the attempt, Natsuka examined the Blood Covenant Box. He turned it over, viewing the box from different angles. The black surface of the box remained unchanged.
Yukiya touched it next and confirmed that the fabric was, indeed, a feather robe.
Hamayū touched it, squinting.
Then the box was placed into Shion’s hands.
“Oh.” She looked at the box. “What do I do again?”
“Touch it the way you always do when you undo a feather robe,” Junten said.
Shion touched the blood covenant box. The instant her small white fingertips made contact with the fabric, it faded away like ink dissolving in water.
Natsuka gasped.
A small box of pale wood rested in Shion’s hands. When she lifted the lid, she found a single thin sheet of white paper folded in two.
Yukiya’s heartbeat was loud in his ears.
This small scrap of paper was his salvation. The true Golden Raven had foreseen this future. Yukiya trusted his judgment. Political decisions should be deferred to the true Golden Raven when possible. He hoped with all his might that Nazukihiko had written a few lines about preserving peace in Yamauchi. That was all he wanted. With that, he could persuade Hamayū to flee to safety.
Shion unfolded the paper. Her small lips parted. “It says, ‘Do everything as the empress wishes.’”
The room devolved into chaos. Everyone yelled at once.
Yukiya remained silent, stunned. Before he decided to move, he was already standing up with the will in his hand.
He knew Nazukihiko’s handwriting. It hadn’t been forged, and the will was just that single sentence.
Do everything as the empress wishes.
No matter how many times Yukiya looked at them, the words did not change.
Was this a joke? This was a terrible time for jokes.
Hamayū’s voice reached him. “You never chose Nazukihiko,” she said. “You never put him first.”
The world lost all color. Yukiya felt like he’d fallen into a pool of muddy water and was drowning. Hamayū gave him a cold stare. The Yamauchishu ignored him completely.
Yukiya sank into the colorless world and prayed for instant and immediate death.
He thought he saw a curly-haired boy in a short robe moving through the muddy water around him, but he couldn’t be sure. The figure passed him by in a flash.
Back when he had been an attendant, Yukiya had been far more impudent than he was now. He’d bristled at almost all of Nazukihiko’s orders. He remembered rolling up the sleeves of his attendant robes, darting everywhere at once, and clasping his hands behind his head with clear exasperation on his face.
The Yukiya of long ago had said to Nazukihiko, “It’s your own fault I can’t serve you. Die where you want, somewhere far away from me.”
***
Yukiya went outside, staggering with every step. He must have gone down the stairs and into the hallway to reach the garden, but he had no memory of it. Blue and purple hydrangeas were blooming in the Sun Palace’s garden. Yukiya hated the sight of them.
There had been potted plants here that he used to water. He couldn’t remember where those had gone. Had he moved them?
His head hurt. Heavy rain struck his face without mercy, just as it had on the night Nazukihiko died.
From the day he had sworn his loyalty to Nazukihiko, he had believed in his own competence and willingness to serve his lord in everything. He had sworn to accompany him even to hell. With all the strength and cunning he possessed, he had sworn to serve until the dissolution of his soul.
His lord had not returned his fidelity.
Yukiya’s mind stirred with a vague memory of his early days in the Imperial Palace. He’d spoken to Atsufusa about loyalty once.
“You’re not a loyal servant at all,” Yukiya had said to him. “You say you’re doing all this for Prince Natsuka, but really, you’re only doing it for yourself. You come up with convenient excuses to justify your actions. You’ve never once considered what Prince Natsuka wants.”
Atsufusa had made no protest. He’d smiled. “After you spend a bit more time in the Imperial Palace, you will understand.”
Yukiya had judged Atsufusa to be ridiculous at best and insane at worst. He didn’t want to become Atsufusa, but wasn’t that what had happened? Had he ever truly been loyal to Nazukihiko the person, not Nazukihiko the leader, the figurehead, the true Golden Raven?
He stopped walking. He had come to the front garden of a detached residence. The rain-soaked building before him was the place where Nazukihiko had lived while he was the crown prince. The three of them, Nazukihiko, Sumio, and Yukiya, had lived here.
Yukiya remembered that Nazukihiko hated mornings; he was useless when he woke up. He remembered sugared kumquats and endless paperwork and Nazukihiko’s face after giving what he knew to be an impossible command. He remembered sharing sweet mochi cakes with Sumio and Nazukihiko that they’d bought near the harbor one day.
As Yukiya put his back to the wall and crouched down, all he could remember were smiles. Happy times. Peace.
Back then, he had still been sane. Back then, he could still see Nazukihiko as a person, not as the asset Yamauchi needed to survive. That moment when he’d looked up and seen the ghost lights at night for the first time, his perspective on everything had changed.
Nazukihiko had looked at him then, and he’d seemed so lonely. Not just lonely, but truly alone. Yukiya had just sworn loyalty to him on the same cliff they stood upon, and he’d still looked like that. Like the world was ending, and it was Yukiya’s fault, or his own.
Yukiya had foolishly assumed that Nazukihiko had been mourning lost time or the informality of their previous working relationship, but that was wrong. Nazukihiko wasn’t saddened by the formality of taking a personal attendant. The idea of that seemed silly to him now.
No. Nazukihiko had known—he’d always known—that Yukiya had not chosen to serve him. He’d chosen to serve Yamauchi. Nazukihiko had accepted that because he served Yamauchi, too.
Yukiya had bent the knee to the power of the true Golden Raven. He’d never had any interest in serving the man behind that power. Nazukihiko had asked for his loyalty and friendship once, and Yukiya had walked away from him.
Nazukihiko had seen right through him. Of course he hadn’t trusted him.
Yukiya laughed into his knees.
Nazukihiko had died on his own terms, far from Yukiya. That was what Yukiya deserved for his years of service to the true Golden Raven.
When he’d given his oath, Yukiya believed that he’d sold his soul to the man he’d sworn to serve. But was that really what he’d done?
Nazukihiko had asked him for everything.
He hadn’t given it.
The rain washed over him, cold, as his laughter mocked the gloomy sky.
***
Haruma followed Yukiya as he walked outside into the garden.
He thought he understood why Yukiya was so upset. Nazukihiko had chosen to honor his empress’ wishes and not Yukiya’s. That was unexpected, and it would hurt. Haruma couldn’t understand why Nazukihiko had done that.
Yukiya found a place to sit down with his back to a wall. He didn’t move for a long time.
“Yuki!” Shion called out into the garden.
When Yukiya didn’t respond, Shion splashed through muddy puddles to reach him, overtaking Haruma at a run. Just before she reached him, she stopped still, looking Yukiya up and down.
“Yuki?” she asked. “Yuki. You should come back inside,” she wheedled. “You’re soaked. You’ll get sick. Come on.”
“Princess.” Yukiya acknowledged her existence, but he didn’t move. Ordinarily, he would have scooped Shion up at once and carried her to safety, but he could not force himself to move. He kept leaning against the wall, peering into her face as if the sight of it confused him.
Shion knew that something was wrong. She held out her hands to him, waiting.
“Would you run away with me?” Yukiya asked quietly.
Shion gasped.
Haruma’s eyes went wide. He couldn’t tell what Yukiya was thinking. He might be crying, but it was difficult to tell because of the rain.
Time stretched like thinning thread about to snap, but no one spoke.
Shion breathed heavily. Then she shook her head. “I can’t.”
“You can’t?” Yukiya asked impassively. His head drooped. He let out a slow breath and then stood up. He turned his back on Shion and walked into a cluster of hydrangeas.
Shion didn’t move from where she stood. “Yuki?” she called after him.
He didn’t turn back.
***
Yukiya walked through waves of pale blue and violet petals, crossing a river of flowers. He felt ill-omened, like disaster would strike him down at any moment.
Haruma followed him.
Yukiya stopped suddenly mid-step, bent over, and laughed hysterically. He opened his mouth wide toward the sky where rain clouds swirled and laughed like he was trying to swallow the weather. His laughter rang out shrill and loud, drowning out the dull roar of the rain. He looked genuinely amused. There was a maniacal light in his eyes.
Haruma had never seen Yukiya this way in all their long years of friendship. Yukiya shook from head to toe, choking on his own laughter, pitching forward in fits and starts as if he’d lost control of his own body. He laughed like he was burning his own vitality. He was like a candle in a storm about to be snuffed out by cruel and pitiless wind.
Yukiya stopped laughing. He groaned, wordless, and finally seemed to notice that Haruma was there.
The man before him was not the Yukiya that Haruma had known since their student days. Something fundamental had broken in him that would never be repaired.
“Haruma,” Yukiya said, his voice almost inaudible because of the rain. “Who will you stand with?” He dropped to his knees in mud and did not move.
Haruma rushed forward and knelt before Yukiya.
“Who else could I stand with besides you? My loyalty is yours and always has been.”
Yukiya gave him a cold stare in response.
Perhaps he had chosen the wrong words, but Haruma didn’t know what else to say. He held Yukiya’s gaze, pouring all of his sincerity into his eyes.
After a long moment, Yukiya looked away. “Very well.” He paused and then asked, “Will you work for me, Haruma?”
***
“The rain won’t stop,” Koume said with a touch of exasperation as she looked out of the gaps in the latticed door of the kitchen. She was busy preparing the evening meal.
The pouring rain beat on the roof, loud and echoing. Servants ran back and forth in the courtyard.
The Touke family generally ate their meals at fixed times, but since the Lord of Touke had returned from the Imperial Court, schedules had been a little hectic.
“Do you think something has happened?” Koume asked.
“His Imperial Majesty the true Golden Raven has passed away. Surely, things are happening that we could never even imagine,” Sawarabi said. She had come to the city estate a few days ago. She had served in the Imperial Court for many years and was helping out here on a temporary basis. She was a hard worker who handled most tasks with ease, though she said little about herself.
“The Lord of Touke is a capable leader and administrator,” Koume said. “I’m sure that everything will be all right.”
Sawarabi smiled; a dimple appeared in her pale cheek. “Of course. We’ll all be fine here, I’m sure.”
Koume nodded absently. She was thinking about Yukiya. He’d served the emperor directly for many years. She’d met him when he was still a boy, and she had just seen him again recently. His former brashness had hardened, giving him a dignified exterior. The boy she’d met had wanted peace; the man she’d met had led armies in war.
The Lord of Touke approved of what Yukiya had done with his life. Koume wondered if he’d had any choice in that at all. She had bitter past memories. She did not think Yukiya remembered her with any fondness, if he thought of her at all, which seemed unlikely.
She’d been happy to see him again, but she doubted they’d become friends now. Even before the true Golden Raven’s death, Yukiya’s lofty place in the Imperial Court kept him out of most people’s reach.
Still, she worried. Yukiya had lost the man he’d served—what would he do now?
A kitchen servant delivered a message: vegetables she’d requested from the market had been delivered. Koume hurried out to the gate in the rain to check the shipment.
A Yatagarasu in raven form swooped down and landed before the gate. Yukiya took human form as he landed, shaking out his wet hair with an expression of mild irritation.
When Yukiya noticed her, he smiled slightly. “Could you please announce me to your lord? I don’t have an appointment.”
“Yes—yes, of course, Lord Yukiya. Please follow me.”
Koume didn’t dare speak to him more as they entered the Lord of Touke’s city residence together. She hurried toward the back of the house with Yukiya trailing after her. He appeared calm, but Koume thought that was an act. There was something in him that was tightly coiled and ready to spring.
How terrifying, Koume thought. But she said nothing.
***
“I was sure you would come,” Lord Aotsugu of Touke said with a smile.
Yukiya was soaked through from the rain.
The Lord of Touke sat on the veranda of the house, sheltered by the roof’s eaves and perfectly dry. A low table sat before him laden with food and drink.
“Care for a drink?” Aotsugu asked. He had anticipated this visit, but he’d expected quite a bit more ranting and raving.
Yukiya was strangely quiet. He took the hand towel a maid offered to him and dried his hair. Then he sat down opposite Aotsugu on a round straw mat.
“I lost this round,” Yukiya said. “That’s all.” He shrugged and then smiled slightly. “I never thought this would happen. I’m not sure I can find the words to express how I feel about it.”
“Goodness. Why should you feel defeated in any way, Lord Yukiya?”
“Stop that,” Yukiya said, “or we won’t waste time talking. We can go straight to fighting, if you like, since we’re enemies now.” He spoke calmly, almost cajolingly.
Aotsugu shrugged and shoved all pretense aside. “Emperor Nazukihiko underestimated the power of the Four Families. That’s what happened.”
That was true. Nazukihiko had never cared to play the power games that the Lords of the Four Families excelled at. More than that, he’d enforced their cooperation on projects that had no direct benefit to them for the sake of saving Yamauchi from future collapse. He had paid no attention to their desires and had drained their resources; of course they wouldn’t like him. They never had.
The Lords of the Four Families knew that Yamauchi’s collapse was imminent, but a threat without a specific deadline allowed for some mental flexibility. The true Golden Raven claimed to have some knowledge about disaster in the future, but he might be lying for all they knew. Besides, the Four Families were suffering now under the unfair burdens the true Golden Raven had placed on them. The immediate threat had more weight than a distant, uncertain future calamity.
To varying degrees, all of the Four Families had been dissatisfied with Nazukihiko’s rule. The Nanke and Touke families were made to contribute funds to post-war reconstruction and infrastructure improvements. The Hokke family seethed at being reduced to common laborers after they’d distinguished themselves for their bravery and combat prowess against the Kuisaru. Even the Saike family, which had been favorably disposed toward Nazukihiko at the start, had been compelled to assign their skilled craftsmen to tasks that would ordinarily be beneath their notice.
The Four Families had not liked Nazukihiko before his ascension. Long years of his rule had frustrated them all.
“It is only natural that your side would lose,” Aotsugu said. “You work alone, for the most part, and cannot be much older than thirty. The Four Families are ancient institutions, and we have more resources than you.”
Yukiya shook his head. “I don’t think you’re understanding me. Nazukihiko is dead—off the game board—so he no longer matters. The Nanke family used Takako, who was a fairly valuable piece; they took a loss in getting rid of her. The Touke family prepared to make use of Nagihiko. There is a clear division of roles, which means that everyone is in on it.” He shrugged. “Nazukihiko’s government failed due to mismanagement. He was killed because those around him were incompetent. I know where to lay responsibility for that incompetence. It is not your concern.”
Aotsugu gave him a speculative look. “That’s… certainly a unique perspective to take of our situation,” he said diplomatically.
Yukiya’s smile bared all his teeth. “I understand your position better now—the stance that you laid out at the Flower Festival, I mean. I shouldn’t have expected you to say anything else. That might have given the game away.”
Aotsugu said nothing to that. He wondered how much Yukiya understood his plans. Those plans had been created with Yukiya’s character in mind. Yukiya was usually rational, but he could be influenced by emotion. That made him easy to manipulate. His behaviors in certain kinds of situations could be predicted accurately. All Aotsugu had done was set up a situation, and Yukiya had acted according to his character.
Yukiya was also practical. He would negotiate with enemies if there was something valuable to be gained by it. He was convinced that Yukiya would not instigate or support a war in Yamauchi, even though Nazukihiko had been assassinated. He could keep the Hokke family’s warlike tendencies in check. He believed in fair and competent governance and wanted peace in Yamauchi.
Aotsugu had planned with the certainty that he would be able to bring Yukiya to the negotiating table on his own terms, but now he wasn’t so sure. Yukiya was supposed to arrive here after choosing to ally with the Touke family, seeing no other viable choice. He was supposed to be upset, and Aotsugu was supposed to soothe him and offer consolation prizes, and maybe a few soft threats. Yukiya was predicable, after all; it should be easy to bring him to heel.
Yukiya had come here, as Aotsugu had known he would, but his actions did not match Aotsugu’s plans for him.
Yukiya poured himself wine and took a casual sip, completely at ease. He didn’t look like a man who would be easily led.
“I will keep the Hokke family in check. I will support Nagihiko’s ascension. Empress Hamayū and Princess Shion will withdraw from public life. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Yukiya asked.
Aotsugu blinked. “To be honest, I didn’t think you’d be this cooperative.”
Yukiya laughed through his nose. “You think I’m cooperating with you? Don’t be absurd. From now on, you’ll be cooperating with me.”
Aotsugu frowned slightly. The Yukiya sitting across from him now was not the same man he’d met at the Flower Festival earlier in the year.
“It seems you have a few misconceptions about your situation,” Yukiya said. “I never underestimated the power of the Four Families. I simply chose not to engage with them. That was an oversight, and that’s why I lost this time.” He lifted his cup. “I have decided that next time, I will fight by your rules.”
There was a silence as Aotsugu pondered the implications of this statement.
“Do you think I can’t?” Yukiya asked, the picture of easy arrogance. He had always been capable of anything. He’d shackled himself to certain principles and ethics, but he saw no use for those things anymore. They limited his effectiveness, so he would discard them.
“If things cannot run properly unless someone is murdered, then I will decide who is murdered in the future.” He smiled, his eyes unusually bright. “You asked to cooperate with me. Are you sure that’s what you want? If it is, then fine. I’m sure you won’t regret cooperating with me. Much.”
Aotsugu blinked again. I have pulled a dragon’s whiskers, he thought with a shiver.
Yukiya sat across from him, still smiling, waiting for his answer.
***
“You’re telling me to accept this outrage?” the Lord of Hokke raged in response to his grandson’s message.
They were in the Lord of Hokke’s city residence. Genki and Kiei had already decided to mobilize for war. The Lord of Hokke was preparing to rally the Aerial Army of Heaven when Yukiya’s messenger, Haruma, found him.
Yukiya had commanded him to wait. The Lord of Hokke fumed, but he obeyed. When his grandson arrived at the estate, the first words out of the Lord of Hokke’s mouth were, “I strongly advise you to reconsider.”
Yukiya had asked him to go along with the designs of the people who had murdered Emperor Nazukihiko. He wanted him to acknowledge Nagihiko’s status as the imperial heir.
“If we retaliate, we’re rebels, and they’ll kill us,” Yukiya said.
The Lord of Hokke roared that he was being disloyal to his lord’s memory.
Yukiya didn’t flinch. “If we move now, people will die. Many who were not directly involved in the assassination support Nagihiko’s claim. You are a general. You cannot fail to understand how futile it would be to tear Yamauchi in half for the sake of a political grudge.”
The Lord of Hokke growled low in his throat. “We cannot just accept their lawless actions,” he said. “We must respond, and not with cooperation.”
“Of course we won’t actually cooperate,” Yukiya said. “We’ll pretend and wait for our time to strike. For now, we approve Nagihiko’s claim. Then we focus on building up our strength. An opportunity will come, in time, to expose the full extent of their scheming.”
“But—”
“You, the Lord of Hokke, Lord Genki, and Lord Kiei are all military commanders of exceptional skill. You know how to keep the larger picture in view while attending to what is happening on the ground with varying levels of detail. You understand better than anyone that rash use of force is often the worst possible choice.”
The Lord of Hokke couldn’t quite look Yukiya in the eye.
“Unless you want to plunge Yamauchi into war again, even though we’re still not recovered from the great war with the Kuisaru?”
The Lord of Hokke grunted. Yukiya’s plans always made sense. His grandson always looked calm on the surface, but today, he sensed anger boiling beneath Yukiya’s skin. Of course Yukiya was angry: angry past endurance, angrier than anyone else. Nazukihiko had been his friend as well as his lord, and he had been murdered.
And Yukiya was telling his grandfather to wait.
Genya, Lord of Hokke, trusted his son’s judgment, but he trusted Yukiya’s more.
“Understood,” he said. “The family will acknowledge Nagihiko’s status. And wait.”
“Thank you. Your decision shall preserve peace in Yamauchi. In the end, I believe the Hokke family shall prosper for choosing this path.” Yukiya bowed deeply. “I have an additional report. Empress Hamayū has expressed treasonous intent toward Prince Nagihiko.”
“Treasonous intent?”
“I heard it with my own ears. There is no mistake.”
It was only natural that Hamayū could not accept Nagihiko’s claim. Yukiya sympathized with her position, but he could not support her if she was planning to go to war.
Yukiya lowered his voice and said, “Empress Hamayū’s feelings are disordered, as you may well imagine. If she joins forces with Prince Natsuka, we may have to fight them. If we can move first—take her into custody before she rebels—we can guarantee her safety and Princess Shion’s. We must save them from themselves, before it is too late.”
The Lord of Hokke nodded.
“This is an emergency. I ask that you appoint me as military strategist of the Aerial Army of Heaven, at least for the short term. We cannot allow Yamauchi to go to war.”
The Lord of Hokke hesitated.
Yukiya looked at him with something like exasperation. “Come now, Grandfather. Surely you’ve read the writing on the wall. Saving their lives is more important than saving their status.” He sighed. “The emperor I swore my loyalty to is no longer of this world. His Imperial Majesty would have done everything in his power to preserve the lives of his wife and child.”
The Lord of Hokke sighed deeply. “Very well. I appoint you to the role of military strategist of the Aerial Army of Heaven. You will have authority over all of Yamauchi’s armies.”
Yukiya gave him a beatific smile. “I accept the appointment with all due gratitude, Lord of Hokke.”
***
When Haruma, Yukiya, and the Aerial Army of Heaven arrived at the Sun Palace, the temple guards of Clear Mirror Temple were already gathered inside.
The Yamauchishu were mobilized but not deployed, following Yukiya’s orders. Hamayū had been pressing to have the contents of the will announced throughout Yamauchi and to send out a call to arms, but Natsuka opposed this course of action. He was respected by nobles and priests alike, so his voice held sway.
Yukiya didn’t worry about Hamayū or Natsuka fleeing. He’d moved too fast for them to outrun him, and now he had the Aerial Army of Heaven at his back.
The cavalry force surrounded the Sun Palace in overwhelming numbers. Natsuka’s temple guards put down their weapons.
Natsuka came into the garden of the Sun Palace and showed that he was unarmed. “What is all this commotion?” he asked.
Rokon followed him as he advanced into the garden.
Natsuka’s face was drawn and pale. He did not want another war. He’d been trying to persuade Hamayū to reconsider.
Yukiya was grateful to Natsuka. Willingly or not, he’d bought Yukiya the time he needed.
“Empress Hamayū is suspected of plotting a rebellion,” Yukiya said. “I have come to request that she accompany us. You have been here to observe her activities, have you not?”
Natsuka’s mouth snapped shut. He carried himself with the same quiet dignity as the White Raven and other high-ranking priests. Like Yukiya, he was at war with himself and determined not to show it.
“Prince Natsuka?” Yukiya prompted.
Natsuka glared at him. “She is the empress, but she is not behaving reasonably. I do not agree with her thinking. Just now, I was urging her to desist.”
“So you have no rebellious intent?”
“Of course not. If you had not acted, I would have given similar orders to those you are issuing now.”
Yukiya laughed. “Then let’s say that’s what happened,” he said. “Secure Empress Hamayū and Princess Shion.”
He issued the order and then started walking toward the Sun Palace’s main hall. Behind Yukiya’s back, Haruma caught sight of Rokon silently mouthing, You idiot.
Then Haruma noticed smoke drifting from inside the Sun Palace.
Yukiya frowned, but he organized his thoughts with alacrity and was soon issuing more orders. “Fire in the Sun Palace! Fetch water quickly! Capture all those who try to leave. Don’t let anyone escape!” He covered his mouth with his robe and turned to Haruma, who was following him.
“You take command here.”
“Sir—”
Before Haruma could say more, Yukiya sprinted away, into the Sun Palace.
Haruma screamed. Yukiya shouldn’t be putting himself in danger like this! But he’d given Haruma orders, so Haruma would obey.
Smoke poured out of the Sun Palace, drifting into the sky like ominous clouds. No normal fire would spread so quickly. Haruma suspected that the fire had been set on purpose. The arsonist had used oil; he could smell it burning.
Haruma organized lines of soldiers carrying buckets of water to combat the blaze. The water did very little. The fire raged and could not be quenched. Black smoke belched from the tower close to where Haruma was standing.
Come out. Come out now, Haruma prayed.
Yukiya emerged from the Sun Palace after only a few minutes. “It’s empty,” he said. “There’s no one inside.” He accepted a bucket of water from a soldier and doused himself with it. Then he wiped soot from his face. “The arson is a diversion. Hamayū and the others have been gone for some time. They may have gone to the human world with the Tengu.”
Yukiya commanded soldiers to fly to the Gate of the Vermilion Bird immediately.
“Will we make it in time?” Haruma asked.
“Even if they’ve gone through, we’ll find them,” Yukiya said. “Gather testimony from the Yamauchishu and find everyone who escaped. Use the Aerial Army of Heaven to conduct a search.”
“Shouldn’t we put out the fire in the Sun Palace?”
“There’s no one in there,” Yukiya said. “Let it burn.”
Haruma gasped in dismay. “You’ll let the Sun Palace burn to the ground?”
“Did I stutter? Don’t make me say the same thing twice,” Yukiya said.
Haruma gulped. There was no emotion at all in Yukiya’s voice. If he grieved the loss of the crown prince’s palace, he showed no sign of it.
***
Before the Aerial Army of Heaven arrived at the Gate of the Vermilion Bird, one of the gate guards spotted a Tengu carrying a suspiciously large parcel.
A woman and a girl had wedged themselves inside wooden crates. The Tengu had agreed to smuggle them into the human world. The gate guards hauled them out of their hiding places and dragged them before Yukiya and scouts from the Aerial Army of Heaven.
Hamayū and Shion were not the stowaways. Kikuno and Akane were. Akane wept when she was taken out of the crate.
Hamayū had planned this, no doubt. Yukiya issued commands to the Aerial Army of Heaven to search for Hamayū and her daughter.
According to the Yamauchishu who remained at the Sun Palace, Empress Hamayū and Princess Shion had fled as soon as they’d received word that the Aerial Army of Heaven was on the move. Their ladies-in-waiting had covered them with their clothes, hid their faces, and scattered in all directions using horses stolen from the Yamauchishu.
Several Yamauchishu had accompanied them, but Yukiya didn’t have names yet.
It was vitally important to find Hamayū and Shion.
No one put any resources toward fighting the fire in the Sun Palace. Even in the rain, the Sun Palace burned well. At dusk that day, the charred palace glowed like an ember.
Haruma had expected Yukiya to do more to save the Sun Palace, since he’d served there in his youth. But Yukiya showed no signs of distress at the inferno that consumed the palace. It seemed like he didn’t care at all.
He wondered if there was anything that Yukiya cared about, really, or if all his cares and desires had turned to ash with Nazukihiko’s death. A shiver went through him as he realized that he was disposable to Yukiya. That everything was.
The Sun Palace burned down to nothing. Fleeing ladies-in-waiting were captured and brought before Yukiya, but Hamayū and Shion were never found.
Translator's Notes
Junten is wearing a suzukake, a specialized garment worn by Yamabushi monks in Japan.
Unlike in book 7, The Raven’s Paradise, Kōrokan gets a kanji spelling here that means “birds lined up in a row building.” The same kanji spelling is used to name a mansion frequented by foreign visitors to Japan from the Nara to Heian period. It seems that Yamauchi borrowed the name for their own accommodations for foreign visitors from Japanese.
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