"It's fine, it's fine." She whispered this to herself.
It would be over soon. Everything would be settled soon.
She felt the threads clinging to her feet beginning to snap free. She was still moving, though, working to sever the countless threads wound around her neck.
Soon. Very soon.
Her eyes drifted to the flight feather resting on the shelf. It belonged to the hawk her mother had doted on.
When her mother died, the hawk followed her in death. Her mother's parting words—"Look after it"—had been a headache. She'd never once considered keeping a bird.
Her very name had been taken from a bird that lived in the eastern lands. If they were going to name her after a bird, she wished they'd picked a strong eagle instead.
"Lady Gyokuyō, there is someone requesting an audience. What shall we do?"
Her adjutant arrived. Gyokuyō remained in her chair, eyes on the documents before her.
"Who is it?"
"A man called Tuoba, from a village in the northwest."
"What would you like to do?" What that really meant was whether to post guards in the room.
"No need. You may withdraw as well."
If she recalled correctly, that former nomad who'd settled down some decades ago had that name. He'd failed at farming over and over, coming to borrow money from her father. Her father had been kind and lent it to him. The portions he couldn't repay were worked off as hired labor during the busy harvest season. The interest had been lenient.
More than lenient—considering the cost of an education, the man had actually come out ahead. And yet her father hadn't been greedy. Was a magnanimous man simply someone who could afford to sustain others?
This visit was probably about money again. Under normal circumstances, there was no reason for a direct meeting. People said it made Gyokuyō eccentric, meeting callers in person.
But why? She was only doing what her father had done.
She had wanted to be like him.
Her father's back had been broad. Gyokuyō had grown large as well. But it wasn't the same.
At first, she hadn't minded at all.
Her father and mother had run a business together, surrounded by servants. Her father was skilled at commerce, and her mother was clever.
She would confirm what her father needed and spring into action. An exceptional woman.
Gyokuyō had never wanted for anything.
But when she turned five, another mother and child joined the family.
Father doted on the new family member. She was a younger sister. Mother doted on her too, and the second mother was kind to Gyokuyō as well.
Two years later, a third mother and a younger brother arrived.
A fourth, a fifth…
The family kept growing. With each addition, Gyokuyō grew more anxious. It felt like the jar of honey that had once been filled to the brim was being steadily watered down.
The mothers Father chose were all accomplished. One excelled at horsemanship, another at mathematics. Each mother taught her own children the skills she was best at. The mothers supported Father, and the children assisted the mothers.
Through the bonds of family, the Yang clan, once newcomers, grew ever more prominent in the Western Capital.
At the same time, it felt like whatever tied Father to Gyokuyō was growing thinner by the day.
"I-I'm sorry for the intrusion."
Tuoba spoke in a timid voice. His skin was tanned dark, and his clothes were just barely passable in the Western Capital. Farmers always smell of earth, Gyokuyō thought.
"What is it? Looking to borrow money? In times like these, I can't exactly make exceptions."
His inability to farm well hadn't changed from years past. Last year he had come crying about a poor harvest.
"N-no. It's about last year's loan."
Gyokuyō had lent money to this man just as her father had. He had claimed he would starve to death without it, so she had lent him a large sum. Naturally, she had drawn up paperwork for it.
She was doing exactly what Father did.
"Y-yes, but…"
"What are you trying to say? I should think I've been quite flexible."
"Y-yes, that's true, but…"
Despite his rough appearance, Tuoba wore a pitiful look.
"The contract stipulated that you would lend your help in the event of an emergency, correct?"
"It does."
"By emergency… you mean war?"
"What else would there be?"
Father lent money on the condition that the borrowers work during the busy farming season.
Yuying, too, had lent money on the condition that borrowers work during emergencies. This man — no, several other village heads she had lent to as well — all mistakenly believed the emergencies would never come and that they had simply been handed a gift.
"Um,
Saao —
are you going to wage war?"
She was asking them to return what they had been given — with interest. All Yuying was doing was perfectly reasonable, so why were they looking at her as though they had been swindled?
"There's a chance we'll win. If we secure a sea route to the west, we'll grow wealthy."
A sea route would keep food supplies from the west more stable than any overland road. Other nations might object, but most would stay quiet as long as ships were allowed to sail just as before and tariffs remained cheaper than Saao's. Being a transit hub, the Priestess's Kingdom had its greedy side.
"I-I'll be done for if I die!"
"Then don't die."
Just be strong enough. That's all there is to it.
"O-Oh, sure, that's easy for you. You just carry a flag and hang around at the back. It's us who'll be standing at the front — a ragtag bunch of soldiers, right?"
"The front? Then you'll be the first to seize the spoils."
Tuoba's eyes flickered with fear. Right — this man was a farmer now. He was no longer a nomad who once raced across the grasslands and plundered for a living.
"We finally had a boy born as our last child, and he's only sixteen."
"Sixteen, then? He'll have had his coming-of-age already. He could make something of himself."
"H-How? There's no way! If my son goes, then I'll..."
"That's not an option."
The written terms should have been the same everywhere.
"The age requirement is fifteen to forty. You're past it."
She showed him a similar document.
The man, unable to think straight, trembled with rage. He tried to snatch the document from Yuying's hands. She slipped aside effortlessly, and he crashed to the ground in a pathetic heap.
Of course, this was a different document. There was no point tearing it up.
But then — wouldn't you know it — Tuoba pulled a small knife from inside his robe. He took a stance and charged straight at Yuying.
This was unavoidable.
The man had only himself to blame for pointing a blade at her.
Perhaps it had been a mistake to be so accommodating as to agree to a one-on-one conversation without posting guards. Still, Yuying had more than enough composure to dispose of someone the likes of him should he dare to attack.
She picked up the double-edged sword she had propped against the wall. Without even pulling it from its sheath, she slashed it across Tuoba's belly.
Tuoba frothed at the mouth in agony. His bloodshot eyes glared at her.
"You... you Dog-Belly brat."
Yuying caught every word despite the feeble voice.
Before she even realized it, she had tossed the sheath aside. Gripping the hilt with both hands, she drove the blade into the back of the now-prone Tuoba, just right of center.
He could not even make a sound. Blood mingled with the foam at his lips.
Avoiding the spine and ribs, the blade pierced straight through his heart. A dagger clutched in his hand—proof enough of treason. He groaned, convulsed, and was still.
Was there no one outside? He had said there was no need for guards, and she had seen no reason to post anyone beyond these walls either. Moreover, the fact that he had come armed showed he had harbored at least some intent to kill.
Yuying was just considering whether to call for someone when she spotted a familiar figure in the doorway.
"What exactly is going on here?"
The man spoke with feigned composure despite his shock—
Lusun.
He had been sent by her father from the capital to serve as Yuying's aide.
"Can't you tell what's going on just by looking?"
"...This man came to the
public office
last year as well, didn't he?"
"That's right. He signed the documents without even reading them properly, then tried to skip out on payment."
"So he got what was coming to him, then?"
"Yes. Did you really think I'd lose to someone of this caliber?"
Her expression was still sour. This was Tuoba's fault—going around mouthing off about "Dog-Belly."
"Indeed. No one could hope to match Lady Yuying's prowess."
Lusun crouched down to examine Tuoba's body.
"I won't pretend I'm entirely without fault, but it couldn't be helped. I'd like to settle this quietly, if possible."
"Yes, that's right."
For an instant, her body felt cold. She turned to look, and Lusun's face was right there.
"I will convey the following to everyone."
Lusun's cold expression. This time, her body felt hot. What was happening?
"Yūō-sama was attacked by rebels. And she was killed."
Yūō tried to make sense of what was being said, but her body buckled and crumpled to the floor.
Tuoba's face was right before her eyes. The small knife was gone from his hand.
"When I arrived it was already too late. I had no choice but to say that I struck down the rebels."
What is he talking about. She couldn't understand. She tried to say something, but no voice came out. Red foam leaked from her mouth.
"A—!"
No voice emerged—only a bird-like whimper.
"Don't make that face. You will get to play the lead role."
Lusun's expressionless face had tears floating in his eyes.
"The lead in a tragedy."
The droplets of tears hit the floor and shattered.
That was as far as Yūō's consciousness went.
There was nothing more she could think, nothing more she could do.
It was an absurd end.