“No. Maybe. Okay, yes. I mean . . . hells . . . I was desperate. I was a fisherman’s son who’d been sold into slavery. They were training me to be a whore, and I couldn’t find any way out. When he offered me a chance to do something that mattered, to protect people instead of—” He broke off, looking away. “Yes. I believed him. At least, Iwantedto.”
“What did the training involve?”
“Everything.” Kaneko’s hands tightened. “At first, it was little more than movement in darkness, observation, and memory techniques. It quickly grew into how to listen without being noticed and how to blend into shadows. Later, we covered weapons, mixing and using poisons, and ways to kill quietly.” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “He said I was becoming the Emperor’s blade in the darkness that kept the throne safe.”
Esumi made a small sound.
Yoshi’s hand found his shoulder.
I’d watched Kaneko protect Yoshi with fierce devotion, seen his kindness and his loyalty. Whatever he’d done, he’d done so believing it was right.
“What did you report to them?” I asked.
The silence stretched.
“Everything,” he finally whispered as his head fell again. “Where we were traveling, who we were with, when we’d arrive at the capital. I told them about you and Esumi, about tensions at court, about the funeral plans—” His voice broke. “I thought I was keeping them informed so they could protect you. I didn’t know—”
“That you were actually working for Eiko.” I finished when he couldn’t. “That every piece of information was going to the rebellion.”
He nodded miserably.
I sat back.
This was bad.
Potentially catastrophic.
But Kaneko’s face—the genuine horror, the absolute devastation—told me everything I needed to know about his intentions.
“How did they contact you?” I asked.
“At first, Sakurai appeared in my chambers. He did so under the cover of our . . . other training. At Suwa, through black cranes, origami left in specific locations. I’d find them, burn them, and know to make contact, then I’d leave information at dead drops, or someone wearing black would find me directly.”
“When was the last contact?”
“The night we arrived.” His voice was hollow. “I told them about the funeral arrangements. I knew little about the palace, hadn’t even had a chance to walk the grounds, but I had spotted a few security weaknesses on the perimeter.” A bitter laugh. “I gave them enough to plan today’s attack.”
The words hung heavily in the air.
“Show me something,” I said. “Some proof of what you’re telling me, not because I don’t believe you, but because I need to understand how they convinced you.”
Kaneko reached into his sleeve with shaking hands and pulled out a small metal disk. He held it up, and even across the room, I could see the dull gleam.
A coin.
“He gave me this when he recruited me, said it was proof the shadows served the Emperor. He said as long as I carried it, I was under Imperial protection, that I was one of the Emperor’shidden blades. He had a similar coin, as did the woman who’d first suggested I join them.”
I reached out and took the coin from his palm. Its metal was cool and surprisingly heavy. I turned it over, and my breath caught.
It was real, not some clever forgery.
This was an actual Imperial coin—the kind Father kept locked in his private chambers and gave only by the Emperor’s own hand to people who’d performed extraordinary service. Each one was unique, hand-struck, bearing the Imperial seal on one side and Nawa, Father’s dragon, on the other.
This one was old, very old. Its edges were worn smooth from decades of handling.
But the seal was unmistakable.
“Where did he say he got this?” I asked, unable to look away from it.
