Being an advisor meant guiding others. Pointing the kingdom towards a better future. But it was worthless if she wasn’t listened to.


    Anyone would understand her better than Shunji. Sukaru regretted letting Nari choose him—the longer the line continued, the more reckless they became. She couldn’t remember her mother or cousins being so…flippant and aggravating. It wasn’t just age grinding on her nerves, either, because a majority of other people were fine.


    Kioshi snapped if he was bound and walked around if she wasn’t there with him—a boy his age would likely assume it meant more pain or even death, despite everyone being terrified of him—so Shunji put Sukaru on babysitting duty. She wouldn’t mind if he didn’t also ask her to watch Lady Yuneda’s children.


    Sukaru stayed inside, vaguely concerned about being spotted by Gin’s forces. They were nowhere near close for visibility, but the bridge’s security was waning and she wanted to be on her way to the next fort as soon as possible. Gin and Sólstaeur might not kill her if she plead her case and explained her position—Miya’s husband didn’t seem like one to unnecessarily take a life—but Shunji would as soon as he heard.


    In the corner of her eye, Kioshi had Lady Yuneda’s children staring at him with fascinated expressions as he told stories. They saw him as a novelty, not a murderer, and treated him as such. Unlike Sukaru, he didn’t seem to mind.


    “We have tengu in the mountains,” Kioshi whispered, waving his arms around to help illustrate his point. “Some are good and give people food; others are bad and steal evil children.”


    “Oh, so like Shigeru?” Ryobe asked.


    His sister hit him, and not gently from the looks of it. Neither one pursued it further, however, with Shigeru curiously asking a more relevant question.


    “Are tengu strong? Like, oni and kijo strong?”


    “Tengu are stronger than kitsune, but weaker than oni and kijo,” Kioshi explained.


    Shigeru nodded, turning around to look at Sukaru.


    “Miss Yanami? Are you stronger or weaker than a real kitsune?”


    “I can make your father fall over with the flick of my tail.”


    The Yuneda children found something hilarious in her deadpan delivery, although Kioshi just tilted his head at her in silent confusion. It didn’t really answer the children’s question, but it satisfied them.


    The laughter immediately ended when they sensed the presence of Lady Yuneda. All but Sukaru tensed; Shunji did the same stunt fairly often. Honestly, the two were meant for each other.


    “Shigeru, Ryobe, get away from the demon,” Lady Yuneda said tersely. Both children shuffled away from Kioshi. “Leave it to the company of the half-kitsune; we’ve got to get ready to move.”The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    “Already?” Ryobe whined.


    “Yes. Now get your things.” She half-glanced at Sukaru while her children left. “The north’s breached the border; their army should arrive before nightfall. Shall I tell the soldiers to move ahead as per your instructions?”


    “Yes,” Sukaru replied. “I’ll be there shortly; I just need to confirm that Kioshi knows what he needs to do.”


    Lady Yuneda turned away with a half-wave, completely uncaring towards anyone but her children and husband. Sukaru waited until they were a fair distance away before looking at Kioshi.


    “Before you head out to the field, I’d like to give you a brief lesson on Kuro’s army structure.”


    “Why?” Kioshi asked, almost despondent. All light from his eyes and emotions in his voice faded when the possibility of fighting—of taking blood—was brought up. She hated that her ears tried to fall every time. “That shouldn’t be relevant to whatever I need to do.”


    “It will help you make an informed decision,” Sukaru reasoned. “You’ll be surrounded by black and white armor alike; you should know how the battle around you might play out.”


    Kioshi readjusted his position a little, then hesitantly nodded.


    “...All right. What do you want to tell me?”


    Sukaru stood up and paced around, taking note of the outside view of the bridge and the dark interior of the fort.


    “Kuro’s army only had two segments,” she said. “The commander and the soldiers. A few soldiers are delegated as message-carriers, but in most cases the commander is fighting alongside everyone else. Once the commander falls, however, it’s only a matter of time before the soldiers lose their confidence and flee the field. This is considered an acceptable tactic.”


    She turned towards the window for a moment, noticing the group of soldiers coming across the bridge in the distance. She couldn’t stay here for much longer without risking her safety; strong as she may be, she wasn’t a fighter.


    Sukaru returned her attention to Kioshi. “You will be spending the battle in a variant of Gin’s royal armor, as decided by King Shunji—silver plating, but red fabric. This is to help you blend in among the enemy while still being recognizable to your allies, and you’ll have many chances to be near commanders. If a soldier wearing Gin’s armor kills a commander…”


    “...The battle ends?” Kioshi guessed, frowning.


    “Yes. As soon as the commander is dead, Kuro’s soldiers will start leaving.”


    Her duty done, she moved to leave. She only took a few steps before Kioshi got up and moved towards her, his voice low in consideration of the implications.


    “Why are you telling me this?”


    Sukaru sighed. She had hoped she wouldn’t have to answer the question.


    “One of my most important duties is keeping casualties to a minimum,” she explained, glancing over her shoulder to read Kioshi’s expression. “The north entering the war makes it as good as lost on Kuro’s end—they breached the bridge, for Kurokami’s sake—and we need as many soldiers as possible to defend the castle. This way, it looks and feels like we put up a fight without losing hundreds of men in one day.”


    “So…” Kioshi shuffled and looked away. “What should I do?”


    “Whatever you feel is right,” Sukaru said firmly. “It’s incredibly unlikely that Gin and the north will suffer the same kind of casualties that Kuro will, so your own people are not in grave danger. I won’t force you to take any blood—it will be easy enough to hide you until the fighting’s over. Just let me know before the battle begins so I can adjust strategies accordingly.”


    “...Okay.” He tried to give a little smile, but it failed. “Thank you, Lady Yanami.”


    She gave her own meager smile in return, then shook it off and carried on. Kioshi waited for a few seconds before sitting back down to stare out the window.


    Sukaru wondered if he missed his home, even if he didn’t seem keen on returning—just as she used to yearn for the forests her kin were raised in, rather than the stone and wood of the castle. Maybe, unlike her, he’d see reason while he has the chance.