Azuma welcome the near silence in his guest room in the Imperial Palace rang with a welcome silence. No more chattering, frightened people. No more annoying questions and fits of crying. Just blessed, blessed silence.
A moment later, Yuna grabbed a long strip of linen and started to wrap it around Azuma’s head, covering the open gash on his forehead. Meanwhile, Chancellor Bramen Qin simply sat at the end of Azuma’s bed, staring at the floor.
Yuna caught Azuma’s eye and smiled. He grinned back, glancing to the door.
No shadow stood next to it, indicating the three of them had total privacy.
“So,” Azuma drawled. “It’s done, is it not? We’ve done well!”
Bramen shifted as he gave him a slight frown. “Yes, my Saten, you have done well, just as I expected. But you should really focus on your own health, no? You say the wounds aren’t bad, but I can see them. I don’t want you to fall sick with fever and infection. Perhaps it’s time for you to rest?”
Azuma scoffed, the high from today’s battle coursing through his veins.
He needed to rest? No. He needed to conquer mountains and destroy more enemies. He needed to continue to vanquish and show his strength. If he did, his father couldn’t fail to approve of him!
“I don’t need rest, Chancellor. I’m strong enough to move mountains. To defeat any army. Give me a sword, and I will give you freedom.”
Yuna rolled her eyes. “Calm down, Azuma. This is just the first part of the plan. Don’t forget that more is coming. There are plenty of more places for us to fail.”
“Uh, My Saten and My Nishu?” Bramen asked, gaining his feet. He smiled nervously. “I would never want to alter the way you feel in this moment of victory, but . . .” He swallowed heavily. “I didn’t know when, uh, exactly, to say this, but . . .”
Yuna shot him a cold glare. “Out with it, Bramen.”
“Prince Isao has escaped. One of the men I sent to inspect his room found our four soldiers dead on the ground there, and no Isao in sight.”
Azuma shot to his feet. “What?” he bellowed. “How can a young, sheltered, incompetent prince get past trained soldiers?”
“Help. He must have had help,” Yuna declared, folding her arms against her chest. Her eyes narrowed. “By someone clever enough to anticipate what we would do.”
“And our dead soldiers?” Azuma demanded. “What about that? We can’t just have two Nari soldiers dead in the missing Prince’s room!” he sputtered.
Bramen held out a hand. “Not to fear, my Kamandar. My servants have already removed their bodies. There is no way any attempt on his life can be traced back to our clan.”
Azuma’s shoulders relaxed back. “It is fortunate we can always rely on your wisdom and foresight, Chancellor. Thank you.”
“We have to find Isao immediately,” Yuna said.
Azuma flashed her a grin. “Leave that to me. I have a few ideas. Let us talk while we have some wine. All of us are tense – not surprisingly so – and need to relax before we continue pulling off our beautiful plan.”
He strode across the room, collecting up three wine glasses with one hand and yanking a bottle out from a cupboard with another.
As Azuma poured the rich wine glugged into the glasses, Bramen Qin nodded in appreciation. Azuma’s muscles loosened a little, as he eagerly anticipated the effects of the sweet drink.
“I’m sure your father and Nishu Milwan will be pleased with what you’ve done tonight,” the Chancellor commented.
“You know my only goal is to make my father proud,” Azuma corrected, sipping at the heady wine. “Nishu Milwan can die, for all I care. She’s not my mother. I don’t care what she thinks.”
“Don’t tell Ren that’s what you think,” Yuna murmured, sipping her own wine.
“I see,” Bramen murmured as he peered at Azuma over the rim of his wine glass. “You may not be able to accept Nishu Milwan as a member of the Nari clan, but she is your father’s wife now, Saten Azuma. Saten Danjuro would not be happy if he heard you disrespecting her name.”
“Silence,” Azuma snapped, heat coursing through his veins. “Learn your place, old man.”
“Stop it, both of you, ” Yuna hissed. “Bramen, our family business is none of yours. Azuma, calm your temper. The most important thing right now is to track down the Prince and reassure Ren. She’s fragile and – “
“Ren, Ren, Ren,” Azuma muttered, mocking Yuna. The feeling of wrath only spread throughout in his chest, facilitated by the large amount of the wine he’d downed in just two gulps. “I’m so tired of hearing about that stupid, half-blood girl. She’s as unworthy as her mother, and I’m getting tired of taking care of her. She’s a burden, and only a stepsister at that. I don’t understand how you can tolerate even a minute of time in her company.”
Yuna advanced on Azuma until she stood face-to-face, glaring into his eyes. She took hold of a piece of his golden Nari armor – which Azuma still couldn’t bring himself to remove – and jerked him close.
“Maybe you’ve forgotten something, brother,” she drawled in a threatening tone. “We need Ren. She’s the key for everything to work. Her safety and emotional wellbeing is the main priority right now. Do you understand?”
He lost himself in her raging, intense eyes for a moment before he nodded crisply once.
“Yes. I understand. And you’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you for reminding me.”
“You’re still impulsive as ever,” she said.
“I’m sorry. I do get carried away.”
“Yuna, you are always intelligent and forward-looking,” Bramen muttered, raising his glass to her. He took another long sip, closing his eyes as he savored the flavor.
“I’m glad we understand one another, Azuma,” she said, stepping back. But her gaze still bored into his eyes, as if Yuna wanted to take over his very soul. “However, don’t you dare to interrupt me ever again.”
A chill rippled through Azuma at her words, but before he could respond, a knocking at the door interrupted their conversation.
Yuna whirled around. “You may come in, ” she ordered.
The door cracked open, admitting a slender girl with long hair. She kept her head bowed as she spoke, her voice trembling slightly.
“Saten Azuma, Nishu Yuna, Chancellor Bramen. I-I have the most…unfortunate duty to tell you . . .”
“Speak up,” Azuma barked. “We can’t hear you.”
The girl drew in a deep breath. “Yes, Saten Azuma. I . . . I have been sent to inform you that another servant went into your parents’ quarters, and . . .” She blinked, then shrunk back a step. “Forgive me, Saten and Nishu. Your parents have been killed.”
Azuma felt the shock all the way from his fingers down to his ankles. The air left his lungs, and he dropped his glass. He barely heard the crash as it landed, spilling wine over his feet.
“What?” he whispered.
“Are you certain?” Yuna asked just as quietly. “You’re absolutely certain they’re gone?”
Azuma stared at the servant girl, as if it would will his father back to life.
This couldn’t be true. Danjuro was a strong leader, a mighty man. Men like Danjuro didn’t die…
“It is certain, Nishu Yuna.”
Yuna paled. She closed her eyes, nodded once, and murmured, “You may go.”
The girl retreated with unusual speed, closing the door behind her.
Bramen Qin stared at the doorway, blinking and speechless.
“Azuma,” Yuna said, setting a hand on his arm. “You must sit down. You’ve had another shock after a very long day. I fear for your health now above all other times.”
“Yuna,” he whispered, feeling as if the sound came from someone else. “He – he can’t be dead. He . . . they were protected and – ”
“Sit. Down.”
Yuna pushed her brother down onto a chest at the end of the bed. He obeyed, his knees collapsing beneath him. All the vivacity infusing his veins from their certain win faded and he slumped over, feeling weary all the way down to his bones. A deep fog permeated his mind, and
the world began to spin.
“Take a breath, Azuma,” Yuna said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Breathe.”
It wasn’t until her sharp yet gentle command broke through the haze in his mind that Azuma realized he’d been holding his breath. He let out it.