My heart hammered, part anticipation, part fear.
After three days of feeling useless, of watching my power build like the steam of a kettle straining against its lid, I was finally going to get help. Real help. From someone who understood what it meant to move between heartbeats, to feel his body threatening to tear itself apart from speed he couldn’t quite control.
If Haru actually showed up.
“He’ll be there,” Kaneko said quietly, reading my thoughts as he always did. “Esumi promised.”
“Esumi promised to try. There’s a difference.”
“Have a little faith.”
Faith. Right. Because faith had served me so well lately.
We navigated the maze of corridors, past guards who barely glanced at us. We were merely two more students heading to early training, nothing remarkable. The palace was beginning to stir; servants lit lanterns, and the first stirrings of kitchen work drifted through the air. By the time we reached the eastern training grounds, dawn was just beginning to paint the horizon in shades of gray and gold.
Esumi was already there.
He stood in the center of the yard, twobokkenleaning against his leg, his breath misting in the frosty morning air. When he saw us, his face broke into a smile that carried equal parts relief and conspiracy.
“Decide to sleep in, ladies?”
“Kaneko needs his beauty rest. You should see him—”
“Both of you can lick my ass,” Kaneko snarled, earning a chuckle from both Esumi and me.
“Did you really think we’d sleep through this?” I asked, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.
“No, but I half expected you to get lost in the palace. This place is a maze.” Esumi gestured to the weapons. “Grab abokkenand start warming up. We don’t have much time before the rest of the guard shows up for drills.”
“What about—” Kaneko began, then stopped.
“What about?” Esumi’s smile turned knowing.
Before anyone could answer, a figure emerged from the shadows near the gate. Cloaked and hooded, it moved with the kind of silence that made my skin prickle with caution. My hand went to where my sword should have been, but found only empty air.
Kaneko had already shifted his weight, ready to move.
“Easy,” Esumi said.
The figure stopped at the edge of the training ground, and for a heartbeat, no one moved. Then the hood fell back, and Haru’s smile cut through the gloom like a blade catching first light.
“Gods,” I breathed.
“Some think so,” the would-be Emperor smirked. “Though this morning, you should stick with Haru.”
Esumi laughed and shook his head.
Kaneko and I gaped, unsure whether to bow, fall to our knees, or return his comment with a jab of our own.
“Did you think I’d forgotten about you?” Haru stepped fully into the yard, shrugging off the cloak to reveal simple training clothes beneath. He wore no golden robes, no Imperial regalia—only the simplekimonoof a man ready to work. “Sorry it took so long. As it happens, being Emperor—even an uncrowned one—comes with significantly less free time than being the useless third son.”
“You were never useless,” Esumi said in what felt like a familiar reflex.
“Tell that to my mother or the Grand Minister orDai Shogunor literally anyone on the war council.” He moved to the weapons rack, selected abokken, and tested its weight. “But we’re not here to discuss my inadequacies. We’re here to help you stop being a danger to anyone within shouting distance.”
“Thanks,” I said dryly. “Your teaching style is most . . . motivating.”
Haru snorted. “I’m not here to encourage you. I’m here to train you.” He spun thebokkenin a lazy arc, and even that simple movement held the liquid grace of someone who’d mastered both their swords and gifts. “Ready to see what you can really do?”
