Three days.
Father had been dead for three days while I’d been here making jokes about Esumi’s ass and critiquing Yoshi’s footwork, while I’d been sleeping peacefully in Esumi’s arms.
“How?” The word scraped out of my throat.
Giichi’s pause stretched too long. “The message says he died peacefully in his sleep.”
“That’s horse piss,” I said flatly. “Father was healthy and stubborn as an ox. He trained every morning and rode each evening. On some days, he swam in the palace pools. Speak plainly,Guji. What really happened?”
Another pause, this one far longer, almost painfully so.
“Guji,” Esumi said quietly. “Haru deserves the truth.”
Giichi’s shoulders sagged as he nodded slowly. “The official proclamation states natural causes. However . . .” He withdrew a smaller scroll from his robes, sealed with wax I didn’t recognize. “This came separately from your uncle RyujiDai Shogun. It holds answers the official notice omits.”
My hands shook as I unrolled the paper. Esumi read over my shoulder, his sharp intake of breath confirming what my eyes couldn’t quite process.
Poisoned darts.
Multiple puncture wounds.
Nawa also poisoned.
Someone murdered Father and his dragon.
The scroll slipped from my fingers. Esumi caught it before it could fall, just as he always protected me before I could fall. Only this time, the falling was happening somewhere inside where his hands couldn’t reach.
“TheDai Shogunhas called the banners,” Giichi continued, his voice coming from very far away. “The Empire prepares for war. Your presence is required in Bara immediately.”
“Kioshi—” I managed.
“The message only says that Prince Kioshi was away on a mission when your father died and is expected to return to the capital soon.”
Of course, Kioshi was handling everything. Perfect, capable, born-to-rule Kioshi was already managing the Empire’s crisis while I stood here struggling to remember how to breathe.
“Haru-sama.” Giichi stepped closer, his hand settling on my shoulder in an almost intimate gesture. “This is a terrible shock. I knew your father. He was a good emperor, and an even greater man. The whole of the Empire mourns with you.”
“Thank you,” I heard myself say, the word breaking as waves on the shore.
Giichi stepped back and bowed deeply. “I will begin preparations for your journey. You should leave at first light. The roads are not safe. There are rumors of unrest, of Asami sympathizers. I will escort you myself with a guard of our finest.”
“That isn’t necessary—”
“It is.” His voice held steel beneath the compassion. “Your father’s murder means the Empire is in chaos. You are of Imperial blood, Prince Haru-sama. You are a target whether you wish to be or not. Beyond your safe passage home, the Empire will need our Buddhistmahouif it hopes to win this war. With the passing of the Divine Son, the tether has snapped. Only with the rise of a newtennowill Amaterasu’s gifts be restored. Our paths align, as I am needed in the temples of the capital as well.”
He bowed again and stepped out of his chamber, leaving Esumi and me alone with a scroll about impermanence.
“Haru—” Esumi began.
“Don’t.” I held up a hand. “Don’t say it. Don’t say you’re sorry or that it’ll be okay or that the gods have a plan. Just . . . don’t.”
“I was going to say you should sit down before you fall over.”
I squinted and looked at him then,reallylooked at him. His face was carefully neutral, but his eyes held a storm of worry and love so fierce it made my chest ache.
“He’s dead.” The words felt foreign in my mouth. “My father is dead.”
“Yes.”
