Esumi’s head lowered again, though his eyes remained locked on mine. “It’s true, Haru. He barely made it across the border before his party was attacked. His body . . .”
“What about his body?” I heard myself ask, though the words felt foreign and distant.
“The Asami . . . there were messengers. They delivered his head to the palace in a rice sack. His body . . . hasn’t been recovered.”
“They returned him in what?” My heart forgot to beat.
“The priests say he was poisoned, that his tongue . . . that he must’ve been shot with many bolts, though without his body . . . They say he never had a chance. None of them did.”
My mind reeled.
None of this could be true.
Itcouldn’tbe.
Kioshi was my older brother, the better man. He was the one who held us together when the weight of the Empire closed in. He was the brother who protected me, even when my own stupidity and willful disregard threatened to wreck the world around us.
He was so much more than just a crown prince.
He was so much more.
I dismounted and wandered a few strides. Esumi was down and by my side in a heartbeat, the reins of both horses in his hands.
“Haru, we can’t stay here. It isn’t safe, and now . . . with you being—”
“He waseverything, Es. Forget the throne and the heavens and the people—Kioshi was a godto me.”
Esumi and I stood there, staring at one another for what felt like forever, surrounded by soldiers and Samurai, their horses braying and shuffling but no one speaking a word. I could feelevery eye on me, every questioning gaze, everydoubtthey felt because, gods damn it, I felt them all, too.
When Esumi reached for me, I pulled back. “We can’t. Not in front of the men. Not now.”
He winced, then nodded, his next words sounding hollow in my ears, daggers piercing my heart. “I know you’re right. You’re . . .himnow.”
Before I could process that, Samurai broke rank and thundered forward. “Haru-sama, theDaijokanrequests we move into the city with haste. Scouts spotted archers in the forest a quarterrisouth of our rear flank and moving quickly.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, muttered a prayer I wasn’t sure I believed, and nodded as I’d seen Kioshi do a thousand times. When my eyes opened, everyone was watching, waiting, weighing, and judging.
No longer was I merely background noise, the rustle of leaves or the constant whisper of waves against the sand.
I now stood at the fore.
I was the light of the sun.
The warmth of the morning’s kiss.
I could hide no longer.
And my heart ached for it.
“Lead on,” I said, desperate for my voice to sound strong and not crack, as Esumi and I remounted and spurred our horses back toward the line.
Yoshi and Kaneko watched as we slipped in before them. Esumi gave them a nod, but said nothing. I kept my eyes forward, chin high, as a royal should—
As the Emperormust.
Gods, I didn’t know what else to do.
Twenty minutes later, the walls of Bara rose before us.
