“He said the Emperor gave it to the shadows long ago, that it was proof of their mandate to protect the throne.”
I turned the coin over again, studying every detail. “These coins don’t leave Imperial possession. They’re never given to organizations, only individuals—and they’re carefully accounted for.”
“So it’s fake?”
“No.” That was the problem. “It’s real. I’ve handled enough to know.” I looked up at him. “Which means someone with access to the Imperial treasury—or to Father himself—gave this to them. Or they stole it. Either way—”
“Either way, they’ve been planning this for some time,” Esumi finished quietly.
I nodded, my mind racing.
An authentic Imperial coin meant the infiltration went back years or decades, long enough to build an elaborate lie, long enough to recruit people like Kaneko with seemingly legitimateproof, long enough that Eiko’s reach was far greater than any of us had realized.
I looked at Kaneko, still kneeling, still waiting for judgment, and I made a decision.
“Stand up,” I said.
He blinked.
“Stand up, Kaneko. You are not a prisoner here.”
He stood slowly, unsteadily. Yoshi moved to his side and gripped his arm.
“You made a mistake,” I said. “You were deceived by people who are very good at deception, but your intentions were to protect the throne. I believe that.” I met his eyes. “Moreso, you are my friend, my brother. You are Yoshi’s—” I glanced at them, saw how close they stood. “—you are Yoshi’s, and that makes you family. I refuse to treat you like a traitor.”
“But I am—” Kaneko started.
“No, Kaneko, you were a tool,” I interrupted firmly. “You were a weapon they pointed at us without you knowing. That is not the same as betrayal. That is being used.”
“Haru’s right,” Yoshi said quietly, his hand finding Kaneko’s. “You didn’t know.”
“But now I do,” Kaneko said. “And none of that changes what I’ve already done. The information I gave them—”
“Is done,” I said. “We can’t undo it—but perhaps we can use it.”
All three of them stared at me, brows bunched in an almost humorous unison.
I turned the coin over in my fingers, feeling its weight. “They think you’re still loyal to them. They think you’re still their spy. Sakurai revealed himself today, but only to you—and only because his cowl fell away by accident.” I looked up. “As far as Eiko knows, you’re still one of them.”
Understanding dawned in Esumi’s eyes. “You want—”
“I want to use what they have given us.” I stepped closer to Kaneko. “You have training they provided, access they facilitated, trust they built. Now you have something more valuable than any of that.”
“What?”
“You know the truth.” I held up the coin. “You know they’re working for Eiko. You know how they operate, how they communicate, what they want. They don’t know that you know.”
Kaneko’s eyes widened. “You want me to keep working for them.”
“I want you to work for us while theythinkyou are working for them.” I looked at the coin again. “Feed them information we want them to have, learn what they’re planning, find out who else they’ve compromised.” I met his gaze. “Become what they trained you to be—but for real this time. Become a blade in the darkness protecting the throne.”
“That’s incredibly dangerous,” Yoshi said, his hand tightening on Kaneko’s.
“Everything is dangerous now.” I looked at each of them in turn. “The enemy is inside our walls, apparently has been for years. We need every advantage we can get, and right now, Kaneko may be our best chance at learning what they’re planning—or at least feeding them information that might foil their future plans.”
“But . . . what if they find out?” Yoshi asked, panic blooming in his voice, growing stronger with each word. “What if Kaneko makes a mistake and they realize he knows? They’ll kill him. They’ll hunt him down and kill him.”
“Then he will run,” I said simply. “He will come straight to us, and we will protect him.”
