Utaka and Erize barely told her anything—not about the war, at least, and Utaka never mentioned the truth of the first queen’s death. They had a valid reason—they wanted to protect her—but it ultimately backfired. Kyoumi spent the better portion of her childhood worried that they didn’t care about her, scared of losing Utaka whenever he went out to fight, desperately hoping they would say something to convince her everything would be fine in the end.


    Kyoumi understood the delicate balance between ‘protection’ and ‘openness’ as soon as she needed to explain why the boys only had one set of grandparents. It came again when Masaru died, except then they were old enough to know if she lied. She knew she would have to struggle with it again now that Kuro wanted conflict.


    The palace had a strategy room, but she doubted anyone regularly used it. The dull, lifeless room always gave her a sense of dread.


    Sir Hiroki sat across from her, with Tsujihara Isei to his right parallel to Sorai. The table in between them held a map, tokens scattered around it to mark recent sites of activity.


    “The northern nation has officially initiated an embargo with Kuro,” Sir Hiroki reported. “They had maintained trade until recently, even after they regained independence. That means more trade for us and more ire from them.”


    “We have more than enough resources to go around,” Kyoumi reasoned. “And we’ll need the income for supporting soldiers. Has the north expressed any interest in helping?”


    “We shouldn’t count on it, but it’s possible,” Sir Hiroki said. “I know the chief has reservations and that Kuro’s ship-sinking has caused unnecessary casualties, but they’re weeks away from us. Anyone they send would be far from home in a war they had no place in.”


    “I can draft up a letter,” Sorai suggested. “If nothing else, just having a discussion will be enough.”


    Sir Hiroki shook his head. “No need. I already received word that the chief and his children were on their way to Gin.”


    “They’re one step ahead of us, then?” Tsujihara Isei asked.


    “Not quite,” Sir Hiroki replied, leaning back in his chair. “I was merely asked if they could look out to Kuro’s side of the river from the fort. The north might dislike Kuro, but those children still have that blood in them—the chief doesn’t want them to be ashamed of it, from the sounds of it.”


    Tsujihara Isei scoffed, yet he held back any scornful comments. Kyoumi had no doubt he would launch into a tirade once he was in private; these meetings had a way of bringing out the worst in others, even if no one but that person knew it.


    “Could you ask them to visit the capital?” Kyoumi requested. She dared to show a little hope towards a man that likely compared it to Utaka’s relative gruffness. “We wouldn’t even need to speak politics; given the circumstances, we ought to give them some kind of recognition if they’ll take it.”A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    “I can try, if I ever see them in person,” Sir Hiroki agreed.


    “Thank you.” She readjusted herself—tried to sit up a little straighter, command more authority, despite Sir Hiroki nor Tsujihara Isei believing she held it. “Until we have that talk, then, we won’t declare war. I don’t want to put the chief and his family in danger, even by proxy. In the meantime…”


    She sighed, and any courage and command she mustered vanished.


    “...Do we have anyone to spare to look for Taiyo?”


    Two days since he vanished, and they hadn’t heard any word of him. Kyoumi’s fears only grew whenever she realized he wasn’t there—most of them were of the safety of both sons, whether Taiyo was all right and if Rei could manage without him while avoiding the depths Kyoumi fell into at his age. The family’s history didn’t exactly do them any favors, either.


    Unsurprisingly, Tsujihara Isei answered with a kind of indifference.


    “Theoretically, yes,” he said, “But whether or not they actually search depends on how well received the order is. Do you really have no idea where he went?”


    “He didn’t leave any note or signs of struggle,” Sorai reported grimly. “He has a few friends outside of the capital, but he would have told us if he wanted to visit them.”


    “What makes you sure he wants to be found?”


    Kyoumi half-choked on the comment while Sorai scowled. Everything about it—from the words to Tsujihara Isei’s delivery—only made her more worried, giving rise to anxiety, sadness, anger, regret, and self-loathing all at once. She looked away from the others and tried to bite her tongue hard enough to focus on the pain.


    Tsujihara Isei showed little remorse, merely putting up his hands and leaning back.


    “It hasn’t been that long,” he pointed out. “He’s sixteen—he can take care of himself. Maybe he just wanted to travel before he had to settle down, or wanted to get away from the Fujita family for a few days.”


    “He wouldn’t go without telling someone,” Sorai maintained in a hiss. He acted defensively on Kyoumi’s behalf. “Even when he promises to keep it to himself, if he thinks something puts one of his friends or family in danger, he lets us know. Taiyo isn’t the type of kid to go without saying something.”


    Tsujihara Isei shrugged and stood up.


    “I’m just trying to help. I’ll let the other eastern nobles know, if they ever feel generous.”


    He offered a half-hearted wave and left. Sir Hiroki cleared his throat and prepared to do the same.


    “I’ll send a letter in advance if I convince the northern chief to come,” he promised.


    Kyoumi gave a brief, joyless smile as thanks. He understood the intention, at least, then vanished.


    Sorai cast her a worried look as she let out a shaky sigh. She forced herself to relax and stared out the window to watch the wind blow around the sakura petals. Sorai gently put his hand on her shoulder.


    “You’re doing your best,” he assured her softly.


    “I’d be a lot happier if I could actually believe that,” she admitted. “How can I be sure I’m doing everything? I just…want a normal life for the boys. It feels like I failed as soon as I first held them.”


    “I can’t promise it’ll be fine,” Sorai said, giving a tiny little smile. “But whatever happens, I’m here for all three of you.”


    “...Thank you, Sorai. That helps a bit.”


    “I’m glad.” He offered her a light kiss on the forehead and stood up. “I’ll see you in the study?”


    “Mhm. If Rei’s still here, I’d like to tell him the plan for now.”


    Sorai nodded and walked out of the room. Kyoumi took another minute to gather her bearings before she did the same.