“Es, I’m a spare and you know it,” I cut him off with a bitter laugh. “Hells, I wasn’t always even a spare. Had my middle brother lived, I would still be the backup to the backup, more of a throwaway than ever. Father sent me here because he didn’t know what else to do with me. I was too inconsequential to keep at court but filled with too much Imperial blood to ignore.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? Father rules, Kioshi commands armies, and me? I teach children how to hold abokkenand pretend it matters.”
“It does matter.Youmatter.”
“To you maybe, but to the Empire? I’m furniture with a title. Pretty to look at, occasionally useful for a marriage alliance, but ultimately replaceable.”
“Youarepretty,” Esumi grunted a chuckle. He pulled me closer, his arms fierce around me. “And you’re wrong about being useful.”
“Am I? Name one thing I’ve done that actually matters to anyone beyond these walls.”
He was quiet for a moment. I immediately felt vindicated in my self-pity. Then he spoke, soft but certain. “You are helping Yoshi master a gift that could destroy him. You’re showing him he’s not alone, that he’s not the monster some of those boys think he is. That matters more than commanding armies.”
“Right. War is coming, and I’m helping a single boy swing a toy sword.”
“Haru . . .” He seemed to catch himself before settling on a different track. “Yoshi is important. You said so yourself, that you feel something in him, possibly something no one has ever felt before. What if he’s blessed? What if the gods gave him that gift, gave himyou, for a reason?”
The gods.
I tried not to laugh.
When was the last time the divine beings who supposedly loved us as children even bothered to show themselves? Hells, when had they last spoken to my father, the supposed link between heaven and the mortal world?
I doubted the gods had anything to do with Yoshi or his magic. They barely had anything to do with any of us.
And yet, there could be no denying that Yoshi was unique.
His powers were . . . unexpected and unexplainable. He had a role to play, though none could fathom what it might be. And I enjoyed being around the boy, helping him discover himself amid this world of darkness and grief.
“We’re on the edge of something with him,” I admitted, allowing the subject to drift. “I can feel it. Something important is happening, but Es, how does he share my gift? We both know that speed, that power—it’sImperialblood magic. It’s our divine inheritance, and Yoshi is no relation of mine.”
“That’s what you were taught.”
“That’s what Father always said. Only those descended from the gods could carry this power. And yet, there’s Yoshi, aDaimyo’s son from some distant province, moving with the same speed I’ve trained for years to control.”
“Perhaps the bloodlines spread further than the histories claim?”
That was an unsettling thought. “Perhaps.”
But it didn’t feel right.
There was something else, something I was missing. The whole thing felt like trying to see the bottom of that stone pool through steaming water.
“What if everything I’ve been told about our divine nature is wrong?”
Esumi’s voice carried a warning note. “Dangerous words for a prince.”
“Good thing I’m just the spare then. No one expects wisdom from furniture.”
Esumi’s hand found my face in the darkness, his rough thumb tracing my jaw with infinite tenderness. “Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Diminishing yourself. You’re not furniture. You’re not a spare. You’re Haru, and that’s enough. It’s more than enough.”
“Pretty words,” I huffed, more grumble than laugh.
