“It’ll be worth it,” Esumi said cheerfully. “Besides, the word wasn’t ‘tree’ that time. It was actually T was for tremendous—for my tremendous good looks.”
The captain, who I’d thought was now out of range of our banter, barked a laugh so loud that it echoed off the nearby mountainside.
Esumi’s shit-eating grin grew even wider.
“Kaneko, it is your turn. Please save us from whatever Esumi might say next,” Haru said, pointing at me with a half-eaten rice ball he’d stolen from my pack an hour ago. He’d been pilfering my food all morning, but always with such theatrical, un-princely flair that I couldn’t bring myself to stop him.
“I don’t think I understand this game,” I admitted.
“It’s easy.” Esumi couldn’t contain himself. “You pick something you can see, tell us the first letter, and we guess.”
“Thank you, wise one. I think I understand,” I said dryly. “How about ‘H’ for a horse’s ass?”
“That’s two words, doesn’t count. Besides, that would be ‘A’ for ass, not ‘H’ for horse,” Esumi shot back. “Also, my horse has a magnificent ass. Look at those haunches. Any other horse would be lucky to get to sheathe their sword—”
“Please stop discussing your horse’s haunches,” I said, covering my mouth with a hand so I didn’t encourage him. Then I turned to Haru and added a plea. “I’m begging now, Your Highness.”
“Kaneko doesn’t appreciate fine equine beauty,” Esumi stage-whispered to Haru. “It’s very sad.”
The mountain road stretched before us like a painted scroll, but after three days of travel, even the majestic scenery had become a mere backdrop to Esumi’s and Haru’s increasingly ridiculous attempts to entertain themselves—and by extension, me.
“We should play the story game,” Esumi offered.
“No!” Haru said quickly. “The last time we played that, you convinced three guards that there was a ghost living in the latrine that only attacked people named Hideki.”
“There werefourguards named Hideki,” Esumi said innocently. “And they held their shit for hours. It was hilarious.”
“It was a medical emergency,” Haru corrected.
“Fine. A hilarious medical emergency,” Esumi compromised.
I found myself laughing—actually laughing—for the first time in longer than I could remember. These two, a prince and his Samurai lover, who should have been formal and distant, were beyond ridiculous and had adopted me into their chaos like a long-lost brother.
“Tell Kaneko about the peacock incident,” Haru said suddenly, grinning.
“No,” Esumi said firmly. “We swore an oath never to speak of those damned birds again.”
“You swore an oath. I nodded vaguely.”
“That’s the same thing!”
“It really is not. Besides, I am second in line to the Jade Throne. You must do as I command.”
“Fine,” Esumi sighed dramatically. “But if I’m telling the peacock story, you have to tell Kaneko about getting the ambassador’s wife drunk on sake and stealing only her left shoe.”
“That wasn’t my fault!”
“You set her wig on fire.”
“It was an accident! The candle was—” Haru paused. “Wait. How do you know about that?”
“I know everything,” Esumi said mysteriously. Then, to me: “So the peacock incident. Picture this: the Emperess’s birthday celebration. Very formal. Very important. And someone—”
“You,” Haru interjected.
“—someone who shall remain nameless decided it would be hilarious to train the palace peacocks to respond to a specific whistle.”
“Oh no,” I said, already seeing where this was going.
