Sukaru expected Gin to take it slow, savor each victory. Maybe she should have guessed that they would prefer to get things done sooner, rather than later. Any hesitance might reflect poorly on the queen—especially when her father came in and attacked Kuro with little to no reservation in the previous war. Sólstaeur most likely played a part.


    Gin only took two weeks to regain their stores and move on, using Kuro’s first base as a checkpoint. She didn’t bother sending soldiers to try to regain it, nor did she do the same for the second fort when it fell only a few days later.


    Of course, Lady Yuneda wouldn’t stop hounding her about it. Sukaru had a small entourage bringing Kioshi his food; Lady Yuneda kept complaining about Sukaru’s tactics and Lady Yuneda’s children tried to get their mother’s attention.


    “You can’t convince me Shunji agreed to this,” Lady Yuneda maintained as Sukaru turned a corner. Maybe she would leave when she’s actually in the presence of the ‘monster.’


    “He did,” Sukaru said firmly.


    “Even the part where the battle doesn’t even last three hours? Where we lose our best commanders?”


    “I can’t predict how long a battle will be. Gin and the north are efficient, is all.”


    “We lost the same way twice. I think that falls on you, Yanami, and not the enemy. Gin isn’t that strong—they’re nothing without the north.”


    Sukaru sighed and her tail flicked. “Take it up with the king. I’m just doing my job.”


    They reached Kioshi’s room; Lady Yuneda noticed and fell back a few paces, but the children happily ignored their mother now that their newest friend was so close.


    Sukaru knocked on the door and waited for Kioshi to slightly open it. Shigeru and Ryobe immediately burst in, leaving her ear to twitch.


    Kioshi half-smiled and accepted the tray of breakfast.


    “Thank you,” he murmured. He opened his mouth to say something else, but he saw Lady Yuneda and closed it again.


    “Is there anything else you need?” Sukaru asked softly, a far different tone than one she used with Lady Yuneda.


    “...I have a migraine, that''s all. But as long as I’m not going to the field I’ll be fine.”


    Sukaru nodded and pulled away from the door. Kioshi retreated back to his room, the Yuneda children demanding his attention. Hopefully they wouldn’t be too much for him.


    She turned and began going back to her room, but Lady Yuneda tugged on Sukaru’s tail on her way back. She tensed and growled by instinct, earning a chuckle from Lady Yuneda.


    “Sometimes you seem more kitsune than human,” Lady Yuneda mused.


    “You’re very close to being sent to an oni cave,” Sukaru hissed back. She straightened and tried to shake it off. “What else do you want to complain about? I do have work to attend to.”If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    “I’m very aware, Lady Kitsune.” She gave Sukaru one of the most prideful looks one could muster. “I want to be in charge of the army when Gin and the north come.”


    Sukaru gave her a quizzical look. “Shunji would never let you. He’ll kill me.”


    “Then don’t tell him, like I assume you haven’t yet told him that your entire strategy has the potential to easily destroy the nation,” Lady Yuneda argued. “We need a good fight, or our soldiers will get rusty—maybe even start internal conflicts. I won’t go down easily and, if I do, you’re free to tell Shunji that it was my own hubris; he would do the same, if this was his home.”


    Sukaru bit her tongue to keep herself from responding the way she wanted to. Shunji wouldn’t truly fight to the death—not as long as his favorites were still children, at least. Revenge, remorse, or mourning caused most deaths in this family, much in the same way that Gin’s royalty tended to be murdered in a war. It’s what killed Nari, at any rate.


    She thought of a reasonable response, but a noise from Kioshi’s room caught her attention. Lady Yuneda glared at Sukaru before going to investigate. Sukaru followed her out of curiosity and a bit of concern—not for Shigeru and Ryobe, but for Kioshi. The other two would have all the forgiveness and care in the world, yet the second they thought Kioshi wouldn’t be worth it—


    She got her answer while she still considered the possibilities. Ryobe had a cut running down from the bottom of his eye to his chin, while Shigeru huddled in the corner opposite to Kioshi. Kioshi seemed sincerely ill while the other two were lightly injured at best. It wouldn’t take long for the little ones to recover, albeit with the loss of their latest fascination.


    Lady Yuneda didn’t make the same observation, searching for her knife before grabbing the one discarded halfway across the room and pointing it at Kioshi.


    “I didn’t mean—” the boy tried. He hugged his arms, digging his nails into his skin.


    Sukaru stepped quickly enough to catch Lady Yuneda’s hand as she swung towards Kioshi.


    “Let the children explain,” Sukaru said firmly. “They must have taken your knife—or picked it up after you dropped it—and showed it to Kioshi. He doesn’t do well near weapons.”


    Lady Yuneda narrowed her eyes, tugged her arm free, and slashed across Sukaru’s shoulder. She winced, hesitating just long enough for Lady Yuneda to shove her to the ground. In the next second, the queen consort held the knife to Kioshi’s throat.


    Kioshi’s eyes flitted to Sukaru, terrified; she could only look away and put a hand on her shoulder, watching the ground instead.


    Lady Yuneda wouldn’t listen at this point. All she saw was that the two children with the greatest chance of being the next king or queen were scared and hurt—she likely wanted to show them what to do with people who worried them, people who could harm them.


    After a few moments, Lady Yuneda turned her attention to Sukaru, keeping the knife position to kill.


    “You are to change your strategies,” Lady Yuneda ordered. “I will command the soldiers. Shigeru and Ryobe will return to the palace alongside you and a small unit in a few days, before Gin and the north arrive. Every able-bodied man and woman in the surrounding towns are to come here and fight—anyone who isn’t is as good as dead. If we trigger an especially vicious attack from the north, we’ll claim they provoked it and use it to rally more soldiers so we can hold this fort.”


    Sukaru could pick apart the plan and give detailed explanations on why it was flawed. But she wasn’t being asked for her opinions and she would prefer not to be forced into the forests.


    “It will be done, Lady Yuneda.” She sighed and slowly rose, keeping her shoulder covered. She hated the feel of blood beneath her hand. “What about Kioshi?”


    Lady Yuneda nicked the boy’s throat and pulled away, gesturing for her children to gather their bearings and leave. They obeyed relatively quickly, huddling together and waiting by the outside of the door.


    “I’ll block off the door,” Lady Yuneda said firmly. “Meals will only be delivered once a day and all privileges are hereby revoked. Should the fort fall, the door will be opened—hopefully, he’ll kill Gin and the north, but if not he’ll be with his kin.”


    “Understood.”


    “Good. Go on and do your job, then.”


    Sukaru bowed and stepped out of the room. She hesitated a minute to watch Kioshi before leaving.


    Honestly, this could be for the best. He would be miserable for a few days, but after that…freedom. At another time, she might have considered it luck or good fortune.