The bells jingled on and on, their sound ringing through the air.
Bashen found it grating.
Officially this was a religious procession, so until they left the capital, they had to march along playing this strange music.
But lately Bashen had been heading to the pleasure quarter so often that he simply could not stop associating those jingling bells with that world.
Couldn't they have used a different instrument?
Wouldn't sharp-tongued people link it to the pleasure quarter and use it to slander Consort Risu?
Wouldn't they mock her inability to return to the inner palace and spread worthless rumors?
Mounted on his horse, Bashen continued to brood.
In the carriage positioned at the center of the procession rode Consort Risu.
Behind her were the ladies-in-waiting and another carriage laden with luggage.
Bashen rode at an angle ahead of the consort's carriage, with a man named Li Bai — whom the Lord of the Moon had recently taken to favoring — behind him.
Li Bai was an easygoing sort and had tried to strike up conversation several times, but honestly, Bashen wasn't sure he had the bandwidth for small talk this time.
Normally, a procession like this wouldn't have required this many guards.
And for Bashen to be assigned as one of them was unusual in itself — he was the Lord of the Moon's man, after all.
And yet here he was, part of the consort's procession. It was only temporary, and someone else was leading the column. Technically Bashen outranked that person, but there was nothing to be done about it.
Bashen had felt something off about this procession escorting Consort Risu.
And as for evidence of that unease — he was carrying a bundle from the apothecary girl, the one he'd figured he'd never need since he never got injured.
He knew the Lord of the Moon was hiding something.
Bashen wasn't so overstepping his bounds as to press the matter.
He assumed there had to be some reasoning behind it.
And so, in a situation where anything might happen, knowing how to act — that was what mattered.
The journey to the outer palace by carriage would take about two days.
The weather wasn't particularly bad — if anything, the problem was the intensity of the sunlight.
With rest stops to keep the horses from tiring, the procession centered on the consort continued on at a leisurely pace.
"Apparently, there's an inn up ahead where we'll be staying tonight."
The one who spoke up was Rihaku.
Unlike Bashen, Rihaku was on foot. He was a solidly built man with considerable height, so Bashen on horseback didn't need to look down at him.
"Are there no other villages around?"
The words slipped out involuntarily, because there was nothing resembling adequate lodging for a consort to stay in at what was unmistakably a rural village. Shabby, makeshift huts lined up in rows.
Wasn't this far too crude?
"Once you reach the halfway point, there are only farming villages, apparently. Even so, this is pretty terrible."
They should have taken a slightly better road, Bashen thought. At this rate, it was no different from camping out.
"You'll be sleeping in the carriage."
"…Is that really all right?"
It was a large carriage, to be sure — the interior was spacious enough to pass for a small room.
"It's the same one she used when she traveled west, apparently, so there shouldn't be any problems."
Rihaku flashed a grin, showing his white teeth.
Was this what people meant by a "good fellow"? Rihaku was a good seven sun taller than Bashen. His skin was deeply tanned and his build was sturdy. He wore a sword at his waist, but Bashen had heard his weapon of choice was a hexagonal staff.
He must have been skilled in a fight.
Come to think of it, they had never sparred. Bashen found himself wondering whether it might be worthwhile to have a match sometime.
But if the consort wasn't even going to stay at an inn, then Bashen and the others would be camping.
For one night, it shouldn't be a problem. They would need to keep a fire going to ward off wild dogs and the like.
"Being outdoors in this season means lots of bugs."
Rihaku wrinkled his face in distaste.
"I wonder if there's anything around here we could use for a mosquito-repelling fire."
"Mosquitoes?"
Those were certainly unpleasant.
Even with a fire going, there was no way to avoid being bitten entirely.
Almost immediately, he heard an annoying buzz near his ear and swatted at it. A scrawny, black-and-white-patterned mosquito was stuck to his palm.
Looking around, I could see this was rice-paddy country—swarms of mosquitoes and other bugs were probably breeding everywhere.
I could do nothing but grimace.
When we reached the village, I offered a brief greeting to the villagers. An elderly man with sun-darkened skin came out to welcome us.
As a mere temporary retainer, Bashin kept his greeting short.
Since they would be heading out early in the morning, he decided to turn in for the night right away.
They borrowed the village hearth for a fire, and a meal was served.
There was no room to be picky about food. Warm rice porridge and roasted meat—just having that was a luxury. That said, the maids attending Consort Risu were openly complaining.
How tasteless.
They were supposedly serving a high-ranking consort, so they should have at least learned some etiquette, yet they grumbled without any restraint. And what did they do when it came time for action? Immediately retreat into their carriage.
"Hm," Bashin murmured, watching the maids file back to their carriage.
"Strange, isn't it?"
The one who came over, spoon in hand, was Riha. He had plopped a piece of roasted meat casually on top of his bowl of porridge.
"Why would the women who are supposed to be attending to the consort hole up in a different carriage the whole time?"
It sounded like a genuine question, but Bashin could tell it was nothing more than a barb.
"A sorry situation, that's what."
Consort Risu, it seemed, had won no loyalty from her maids, on account of her background. She had been a consort of the previous emperor, yet she had also entered the current emperor's harem. That, apparently, was what they couldn't stomach.
"Pitiable. Don't those maids ever think about propping their own lady up to get ahead?"
Bashin understood that Riha meant no real ill will. Still, he shoveled the porridge from his bowl into his mouth and tore off a bite of the roasted meat.
"Oh my, are you done with your meal already? Won't you have some soup?"
"Yeah. Doesn't feel like I've eaten a thing. If you want it, it's yours."
He set the bowl aside and went to check on the horse.
The horse had already been given feed. Bashin groomed its mane.
"What's with that attitude of theirs?"
He had heard rumors about Consort Risu before. The Moon Lord—someone who might become his master's wife. He had even looked into the matter.
But the rumors he had heard were far from flattering.
A shrewd woman who would serve two emperors.
She paled in comparison to the other senior consorts.
Nothing more than a girl who had risen above her station.
Masaki recalled the face of Consort Risu that he had once seen.
She was a fragile-looking girl, trembling before a madman.
A tiny body that seemed as though it might break at the slightest touch.
They said the rear palace was a garden. That was certainly true. But among the flowers, some were gorgeous while others were poisonous.
What kind of flower was Consort Risu?
As he stroked the horse's back, he spotted a single maidservant emerging from the consort's carriage.
"It's only that one maid, then."
Only one maidservant actually worked properly around the consort. Even Masaki could tell that much. Did the others not even care to maintain appearances?
He understood why the Moon Lord was troubled. When he had been in the rear palace, acting as the eunuch Jinshi, they had spoken on occasion. The Moon Lord usually never let worry show on that beautiful face, but in front of Masaki, he would occasionally let it slip.
Even after leaving the rear palace, it seemed the troubles were far from over.
The maidservant who had come out of the carriage was carrying dishes back. Even from a distance, it was clear there was food left on the plates. Had it not suited her taste? She had barely eaten any of it.
"Well, I suppose that's understandable."
Accused of infidelity, she was being transported to a detached palace under house arrest. She hardly had the composure to finish every last bite.
Masaki swatted at the irritating buzz of a mosquito with his hand.
Wondering whether the mosquito-repelling incense had been prepared, he glanced around and saw another maidservant step out of a carriage.
She carried a small pot in her hand, from which smoke was rising.
Could it be mosquito-repelling incense?
The maid carried it toward Consort Risu's carriage.
It appeared that, in addition to the maid who had brought the meal earlier, there were others who at least did something resembling work. Though all this maid had done was bring the mosquito-repelling incense.
Masaki flared his nostrils. Rather than mosquito repellent, it was more like a perfume. It had a distinct scent.
Masaki left the groomed horse where it was and decided to head back to where the rest of the guards were posted.
The soft cooing of turtle doves could be heard.
Was it around the Hour of the Ox when he woke?
What had happened to the lookouts?
Basen looked around.
"!?"
Everyone was sleeping in the makeshift tents, and not a single person was awake.
The smoke from the campfire was unusually thick, making his eyes water.
"Hey."
He shook one of the guards sleeping in a nearby tent, but the man wouldn't stir at all.
What was going on?
Basen strapped his sword to his waist and peered through a gap in the tent to survey the area.
There were no lights in any of the village houses.
Only the campfire flickered and swayed, with winged insects drifting toward it only to be consumed by flame.
A long, stretched-out shadow was moving.
The shadow extended from the direction of the carriages.
Something was happening.
And right now, what Basen needed to do was protect the consort.
Basen slipped out of the tent without making a sound. He moved in a way that kept his own shadow from being cast by the campfire.
Several men were gathered around the carriages—not around Consort Risu's carriage, but around the ones carrying the attendants and luggage. The men appeared to be talking to one of the maids.
It was suspicious no matter how you looked at it.
The men moved toward the baggage wagon.
What were they after?
As Basen crouched low and watched, he sensed a presence behind him.
On instinct, he drew the short blade at his waist and swung it backward.
"Ah— haha. Easy there."
The man raising both hands in surrender was Li Bai. The blade tip was pressed against his neck, stopped just a hair's breadth from the skin.
"I'm just glad it wasn't me alone."
Li Bai's voice dropped as he spoke, his fingertip tracing a line of red along his neck.
"What do you mean?"
"I know you're going to ask, but from the very beginning, didn't you think something was off about this ceremony for the princess?"
At Li Bai's words, Bassen nodded. Looking more closely, he could see the back of Li Bai's hand was stained red.
"It looks like something was slipped into my dinner. As you can see, my head's still a bit foggy."
Li Bai held up the back of his hand. The red staining appeared to be from where he had pressed a blade against himself to stay awake.
"So you're saying the reason you're fine, sir, is because it was only in the soup?"
"I see."
Bassen had not happened to drink the soup, which turned out to be a stroke of fortune.
Li Bai had thoroughly consumed his soup, so the fact that he was now awake likely meant he had anticipated something like this might happen.
"Was it an order from Lord Jinshi?"
"You've got it."
Li Bai spoke while rubbing his hand.
Hearing that, Bassen felt as though someone had squeezed his heart tight. By virtue of his role, there were things he didn't need to know. He understood why the Moon Prince hadn't told him, but did feeling frustrated about it simply mean he was still green?
Bassen's gaze flickered to the baggage wagon.
People were gathered around a wagon that should have held nothing but cargo.
Were they after Princess Risu?
"So the real target is something else entirely?"
"Sharp as ever."
The journey with the princess was a decoy. The real objective was the baggage wagon.
"I was told to guard that wagon. There was one other person with me, but... ah, what a shame."
He looked at the shadow slumped beside the wagon. It appeared to be a serving girl, but she wasn't moving. In this darkness, it was impossible to tell whether she was alive or dead.
"What's inside that wagon?"
"That would be above your pay grade, sir."
Li Bai spoke while licking the back of his hand.
"There'll be more than one of them."
"Twice that number would be a bit rough, but it's no problem."
He said it like it was nothing.
Then Li Bai looked at Bashen.
"What exactly is your job?"
"..."
Bashen's job was to guard Consort Risu.
If he couldn't even handle the task he'd been given, there was no trust to speak of.
Bashen clenched his fist tight. Then he looked at Li Bai, who was still licking his wound.
"Use this."
He pulled a cloth bundle from inside his jacket and tossed over a styptic and a length of bandage. He hadn't expected them to come in handy this quickly.
"Thank you."
The man grinned cheerfully and began wrapping the bandage around his hand.
Bashen tucked the rest of the cloth bundle back into his jacket and headed toward the carriage where Consort Risu was.
"This is your own fault, you know."
As he drew close to the carriage, a woman's voice reached him.
Judging by the clothes illuminated by the brazier's glow, it was one of Consort Risu's maids.
"For having risen to the rank of high consort when you were completely unfit for it. I've been nothing but disgusted for the longest time."
The consort herself was nowhere in sight.
But if someone was being spoken to, that meant either the consort wasn't asleep—or it was just a monologue from the maid.
What he did understand was this: Consort Risu had been betrayed by her maid, and it was through that maid's guidance that those men earlier had gotten inside.
How could this be?
If that was the case, then it also explained why Consort Risu had been attacked by thugs in the streets. Someone on the inside had known her movements.
Bashen stared at the wavering shadows. Beyond the maid, there was one more figure visible.
Amid the drifting smoke of incense and torches, he caught the distinctive smell of rust.
What was happening inside?
Was the consort safe?
Bashen looked at the sword at his waist. He took it and quietly concealed himself behind the carriage wheel.
He drew his dagger, then— A pebble.
He picked it up. He pulled the jade ornament from his sword and tucked it into his sash.
He drew a deep breath and let it out in a long exhale.
Making not a sound. Remaining perfectly calm.
Protecting the consort was the top priority.
Bashen positioned himself at a blind spot from the carriage entrance.
He tossed the pebble inside.
Clack. Clink, clatter.
The sound of the pebble rolling across the carriage floor echoed.
"Who's there?!"
A man's voice rang out, followed by the loud creak of the floor.
The maid flinched, producing a faint creak.
A frightened squeak escaped at the man's voice, along with the sound of shifting weight.
In that brief instant, Bashen had identified every single sound.
A large shadow materialized before Bashen alongside heavy footsteps. The man was roughly three sun taller than Bashen and wore dark clothing—perhaps to blend into the night.
But his movements were far too clumsy.
Bashen struck the man's jaw with a palm heel. Saliva sprayed from the man's mouth, yet his eyes remained locked on Bashen.
Not deep enough?
A dagger crossed before his eyes.
Hair fluttered down as he stepped forward.
Without missing a beat, this time targeting the temple.
With two sharp palm strikes landing in quick succession, the man's eyes rolled back and he collapsed. Both the jaw and the temple — ideal spots to rattle the brain. The first strike had been off due to miscalculating the height difference and the step of the carriage.
Confirming the man had lost consciousness, he climbed into the carriage.
Just as expected, Consort Risu and her head maid were inside. And the traitorous maid who had been hurling insults.
He clamped a hand over the traitor's mouth and locked both her arms behind her.
"Don't struggle. I don't want to get rough."
He whispered, suppressing his voice, close to her ear.
The trembling woman nodded without a fight.
Honestly, having her resist would be a problem.
Bassen wasn't one for laying hands on women, but that didn't mean he could simply leave things as they were.
He bound the woman's hands with a decorative cord he'd brought along. He tied it tighter than intended, and the maid let out a small yelp. He felt bad about it, but he couldn't afford to be considerate over something like that.
He glanced at the consort.
The consort was trembling, struggling to say something.
Whether she was hurt. Whether she had been scared.
If it were Lord Getsu, he could reach out to her as naturally as breathing, but Bassen couldn't do that.
All he could do was eliminate the threat, however small, so that no danger would reach the consort.
After tying up the maid and restraining the unconscious man as well, he went to the consort's side.
He just needed to focus on one thing: eliminating any danger to the consort.
The consort, still trembling, pulled something from inside her robe.
It looked like a hand towel. Though frightened, she held it out toward Bassen.
It was only natural she'd be afraid of him. Even if he had come to her aid, he was still a man who had just tied up a woman — traitor or not.
Looking at the hand towel being offered to him like this, he wondered what she was trying to do, but he happened to have nothing to stuff into the maid's mouth.
Could she have offered it for that purpose?
"Thank you. It's just the right length…"
As he reached to take it, the hand towel was pressed against Bassen's cheek.
"…?"
"B-blood…"
The voice was so faint it could have been mistaken for a mosquito.
Hearing the word "blood," Basen pressed his hand to his cheek. Something warm and slick was running down. A thin layer of skin had been nicked. It must have happened earlier when he misjudged a strike.
It was one of Basen's worst habits. He was dull to pain — especially in situations like these, where he felt nothing at all.
"…Oh, thank you…"
Risu's voice came out strained, her body trembling.
A feeling of being squeezed tight gripped his chest, and Basen couldn't help growing tense.
Now was not the time for that.
And yet his pulse kept quickening.
"Ngh!"
He must have clamped down harder than he intended on the gag. One of the maids — Risu's — had turned pale.
"H-here."
It was the other maid, the one who had come along with Risu, who thoughtfully brought over an extra hand towel.
Basen wrapped the hand towel around the traitor's mouth.
He still needed to bind the other man.
But Basen's heart wouldn't stop pounding, and he tied the man's arms so tight they turned purple.