“This week,” Esumi clarified grimly. “The poisoner at the moon festival, the archer in the palace gardens, and now a crossbowman on a rooftop a few blocks from the palace—exactly where someone knew the Crown Prince would be traveling.”
Haru’s eyes met mine, sharp with meaning I couldn’t quite grasp. “Someone has access to our travel routes. Someone watches from shadows and speaks in whispers.”
My blood chilled.
Did he mean—?
Did he know—?
“The cherry blossoms fall early this year,” Haru continued, using an old court euphemism for royal assassination. “But we fear this is only the beginning. The real storm has yet to arrive.”
“Your younger siblings—”
“Both my younger brother and sisters are being sent to various strongholds as we speak . . . if Father can get them out in time.”He finally sipped his sake, then set the cup down with deliberate care. “The city gates close at sunset. There will be martial law and additional security measures. After that, no one enters or leaves without Imperial seal and a full search.”
I glanced toward the window. The sun was already descending toward the rooftops. “That’s less than—”
Esumi shrugged, as though we discussed a playful jaunt through the countryside. “Our horses are saddled. The guards at the western gate have been told to expect us, but only until the bell tolls sunset. After that . . . after that, even we are trapped inside this city with whoever wants the Imperial family dead.”
“Which brings us to you,” Haru said.
My stomach clenched. “Me?”
“I have been your protection these past weeks,” Haru said. “My word has kept the magistrates from questioning you too closely about that night and has kept Momoko from earning coin by selling you to others, but once I leave . . .”
Esumi spread his hands, and a sardonic grin played at his lips. “As they say, ‘The mountains are high and the Emperor is far away.’”
“You could remain here,” Haru added, rolling his eyes at his paramour before smoothing his features into stone and steel. “Take your chances with the city watch, the magistrate’s investigations, and Momoko’s patience.”
The unspoken alternative hung in the air: interrogation, imprisonment, possibly execution for association with a known pirate. At the very least, a beginning to my life as a courtesan, rented to any man with enough coin and an appetite for flesh.
“Or,” Haru continued, “you could come with us.”
The words were cold water splashed onto my face. “I’m sorry . . . what?”
“To Temple Suwa. As my . . . attendant.” He chose the word carefully, then added something that made my blood freeze: “Your . . .teachers. . . have already agreed to this arrangement.”
Teachers? He clearly wasn’t referring to Hana. Did he know about Sakurai? About the woman in black? They served his father, but such service was closely held, even within the Imperial line—especially where a spare, wayward prince was involved.
“We will tell Momoko that the abbot at Temple Suwa has been seeking someone with your particular skills, that Samurai there long for pleasure in the midst of their training,” Haru continued, each word precisely chosen. “She need not know that my father’s spymaster spoke highly of your potential, though he was rather vague about who exactly had been training you.”
My mind reeled. The Emperor’s own spymaster knew about me?
“I have already purchased the next several months of your time from Momoko. She was quite agreeable. I honestly think she will be relieved to see you walk through her doors and never return.”
“When do we leave?” I heard myself ask.
“Now . . . as soon as you gather your things,” Esumi said, checking the window.
Could I do this? Could I leave without Sakurai’s permission? Would the shadows—whoever they truly were—allow it? Or would I find a blade in my back before we reached the city gates?
If the Emperor’s own spymaster knew—
Some instinct drew my hand to my pocket where the Emperor’s coin had grown heavy—and warm. A flash of memory—or of foretelling—that wasn’t mine overtook my vision:
Blood on temple stones.
A figure in black standing over a body.
