“Well, you might not care,” you said. “But I do. And we are going to have a real wedding one day, I swear it.”
I chuckled, and would’ve kissed you again, but the priest returned with two cups of wine. He set them down before us, spoke words of purification, and we began.
We held them with trembling hands. He led us through the ritual, of which I knew next to nothing. We sipped once from the cup to honor the Heavenly Family; once for the Emperor, which I drank in honor of my mother’s status and not your uncle’s; once for each of our parents. The wine was warm and pleasantly spiced, but nothing compared to the sweet scents you were giving off.
It was time for the final two sips. The priest handed me a scroll, and bade me read from it.
It was written entirely in Hokkaran.
I froze. As I squinted, the characters only got fuzzier and fuzzier; they all looked the same to me. My lips trembled. I could not read my own wedding vows. You were just talking about a real wedding, in front of people. If I could not read my vows before only you and a priest, how could I read them in front of other people?
“I…” I mumbled. My hands, too, began to shake.
You leaned toward me and pointed to the first few characters. “Before the Heavenly Family, and our ancestors, we make a vow,” you whispered, slow enough that I could follow along and repeat after you. Soon, our voices became one.
“We, Barsalyya Shefali Alshar and O-Shizuka, are overjoyed to proclaim our love, and bind our souls beneath the eyes of the Mother. Eight times we have sworn to love and respect each other for the rest of our lives. Eight times, we will strive to bring our families prosperity. We swear to remain true to our marriage, for the rest of eternity.”
And we had no rings to exchange, no gifts to offer the gods. Instead, you plucked one of the ornaments from your hair, and I gave one of the beads I wore in my braid. Rings would have to wait, but that was fine.
For when our lips next met, soaked with rice wine, they met as the lips of a married couple.
“Thank you,” you said to the priest, wiping away your tears. “You cannot know what you have done for us. When I am Empress, come to Fujino. You will live as a prince.”
The priest bowed to us. “It is an honor and a pleasure to unite lovers, and to upset the Emperor,” he said. “May the gods smile on you.”
You took my arm. We kissed again, before the door. Once we left, we’d have to pretend none of this happened, until the moment was right.
“You might lose your throne,” I said.
“It would be worth it, to keep you safe,” you said. “But my uncle cannot disown me. For two thousand years, only my ancestors have sat on the throne. He has no other choice.”
I pressed my lips to yours and hoped you were right.
When we exited, Uemura was scowling outside. “How much guidance did you need?” he said.
“My uncle may well have her executed,” you said. You meant for it to be sharp, but your joy softened the blow. “Barsalyya is nervous.”
I should have been nervous. But instead, I was fighting the urge to grin. How long could I keep this secret? I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
Uemura sighed. “Very well,” he said. “I suppose you are right. I hope you have made your peace, Barsalyya-sun.”
I gave him a short bow. He closed the manacles on my wrists again and led us forward.
When the doors of the reception hall opened before me, I faced the Emperor’s glistening face for a half second before I knelt. I wanted to see if murder hid behind his amber eyes. When he saw me, he flinched; his fingers twitched on his throne.
I hadn’t covered my eye. Maybe that was what unsettled him. I find it amusing you weren’t bothered at all by it during our wedding. You didn’t mention it. Your uncle, however, smelled like he was about to retch.
“The Imperial Niece, Slayer of Demons and Tigers, Daughter of the Queen of Crows and the Poet Prince, has arrived! The Bronze Palace welcomes the Lady of Ink!”
The gathered courtiers bowed in deference to you. As Uemura led me to the Emperor’s feet and forced me to kneel, I caught sight of my family. Kenshiro, Baozhai, and my father all stood clustered together to our right. My father’s face was unreadable; Kenshiro wore guilty sympathy; Baozhai’s bloodshot eyes told her story.
If only they knew, Shizuka. If only they knew what we’d just done. Even my father would be smiling then, I was sure of it.
We were married. Lady and wife. The Emperor could not harm me.
“Your Imperial Majesty,” said Uemura. “I have brought the prisoner to you for judgment.”
“Prisoner,” said the Emperor. “Three days ago, we bore witness to your crimes with our own eyes. We saw you burst out of your skin and shift into one of the Traitor’s spawn. We saw you shrug off a spear to the arm, and saw the black blood that spurted forth from your wound. We saw you tear a man’s head off with only your hands.”
Burst out of my skin? I swallowed. What did I look like, Shizuka, in that moment? Was it so different?
“You are a murderer,” said your uncle. “Stories have reached our ears of a massacre in Imakane, and we now believe you to be the killer. The blood of countless men stains your hands. And that is to say nothing of your present state. How are we to know if you are as human as you appear, when the former General Nozawa, who was so dear to us, was a demon?”
A pause.
He was going to announce my execution. I felt it in my bones. Any moment now, you’d have to announce what we had done, and hope the court accepted it. If they did not, then the both of us might face punishment.
I had to trust you.
“We cannot be sure of you, Prisoner. Despite your esteemed father, we cannot be sure of you. While you may not outwardly bear the signs of corruption, your blood runs black as ink, and we have seen the damage you can do in a rage.
“It is for these reasons we have decided you must be put to—”
“You shall decide no such thing!”
You shouted this, standing in front of me. As one, the eyes of the crowd settled on you. I could not help but smile. I watched you, standing before me in your bright red robe, golden phoenix ornaments in your hair.
I watched you rail against Heaven itself.
“You, who have sat upon your pretty throne and spent Imperial money on younger and younger wives! Uncle, what have you done to fight off the Northern Darkness?” you roared. “When have you left your palaces? When have you walked among the people and seen how they suffer? You command me to write notices for them, ignorant of the fact that most of them cannot read. You! You think yourself just enough to judge?”
As an older brother gapes when struck by his younger brother, so did the entirety of the court gape at you.