The sea breeze felt nice.
Maomao
walked along the ship's deck, feeling the ocean wind against her skin. Having left Xixi Province behind, a leisurely voyage had begun. The ship looked very similar to the one they'd taken there, yet subtly different in shape. Once again, the fleet consisted of three large ships, and a trade vessel had tagged along behind them.
Over the past few months, the Western Capital had undergone a complete transformation. For a time, conspiracy theories had been swirling that the imperial prince was
Jinshi
plotting to assassinate Gyokuyou and seize control of the Western Capital. However, when Gyokuyou's eldest son,
Chishou,
joined the political scene, the public perception began to shift.
Despite having heard rumors of him as a prodigal son, Chishou's impression wasn't bad at all. What made him particularly popular was probably his appearance, which bore a striking resemblance to his father. The reason he came across as oddly likable, too, might have been that the martial bearing Gyokuyou always put on—like an act—didn't feel out of place when Chishou did it.
The food crisis still had many problems remaining, but as the imperial prince, Jinshi couldn't remain in the provinces indefinitely and would have to return. The one being left behind,
Lu
Shirou would have it rough, but he would have to soldier on.
(Honestly, things would be easier to handle with Jinshi back in the capital.)
Those who had been dragging their feet on providing support wouldn't be able to refuse once the imperial prince was right on their doorstep. It wasn't really something a member of the imperial family ought to do, but Maomao thought Jinshi was just the type who might very well do it.
(It took almost a whole year just to get home.)
How much had the capital changed in that time? Was everyone doing well?
(I forgot to buy souvenirs, but they'll just have to forgive me.)
There'd been no time for that. If there was anything,
ambergris
was about all she could have managed. Having at least the souvenir for that most troublesome merchant woman on hand was a relief.
She wanted to relax, but the return voyage had assembled a crew that made relaxation impossible.
"Ms.
Sparrow,
Ms. Sparrow!"
"Yes, yes, what is it, Maomao?"
Sparrow was eating dried grapes as though clinging to the last vestiges of Seito. With just her left hand she deftly plucked them from the bunch and popped them into her mouth.
"Why is that old man here?"
Maomao narrowed her eyes at the eccentric strategist crouching at the bow.
"He's returning to the capital, same as you, Maomao. Also, he was perfectly fine until just a moment ago, but the instant the ship set sail, he turned into that wretched state — he rushed toward the latrine but couldn't make it in time, and is now scattering the contents of his stomach in a glittering spray upon the sea breeze."
"I don't need you to explain it in such detail."
His vomit sparkled as it sprayed through the air, and the lieutenant standing nearby looked pitiful. There was a pageboy with a bucket standing around. If she recalled correctly, his name was —
Shunketsu
— a boy who had looked after Maomao during their time in Seito.
"
Rakkan
—sama was originally scheduled to board a different ship, but he threw an absolute fit insisting he had to ride with Maomao this time, and at the rate he was going, he would have been just about ready to smuggle out gunpowder. So we had no choice. But he's been perfectly well-behaved on the ship, so it's quite fine."
"Where would he even get gunpowder in the first place?"
Maomao was exasperated.
"I didn't expect Shunketsu to be coming along as well."
So young, yet traveling away from home to work for his family's sake — what a truly devoted son.
"Yes. Shunketsu's name was on the list of personnel returning to the capital, and he himself was the most surprised of all. We'll have him attend to Rakkan-sama for a while. He seems to get along relatively well with children."
And so, this was the first person she couldn't rest easy about.
As for the second —
"I've finished organizing the luggage. What is my next task?"
A deferential young man stood before her, holding luggage in both hands.
Maomao glared at him with narrowed eyes.
"Ah — then please clean the area in front of the private cabins. Rakkan-sama was throwing up all over the place before going up on deck, so it's quite filthy. It's Maomao's room and mine. Make no mistake."
"Understood. Once I've finished, may I go to Lady Tsukimi's quarters?"
The name of the young man bowing politely was
Korou
.
"What are you talking about? Sparrow's work is far from over. Once the cleaning in front of the private quarters is done, it's the deck next."
Sparrow pointed at the eccentric military strategist who was spewing nonsense.
"Why is this person here?"
Maomao said, her voice thick with displeasure.
"She's always hard on me. Just call me Korou."
The young man, with his usual unbothered demeanor, smiled cheerfully.
The reason Maomao had ended up fleeing Xuxi Prefecture in utter misery was that she had treated Chikyou. However, the one who had led Maomao to that Chikyou was
Shoukou
—and Shoukou had been guided there by Korou.
It was Korou who had tried to frame Chikyou as part of the succession dispute.
"Maomao, Maomao!"
"Sparrow. Even I can hardly keep my composure about this."
"You need to accept the situation."
Sparrow smiled sweetly. She deliberately raised her impaired right hand to show it.
"As you can see, I have no place in the Western Capital. More importantly, the mission I must fulfill has changed."
"I understand you have no place. But what is this mission?"
Maomao asked Korou with a fed-up look.
Korou blushed slightly and averted his gaze.
"To offer myself for the sake of the lord I am meant to serve."
"I don't understand what you mean."
Maomao felt a creeping wave of revulsion.
"I know you can't stand me, Lady Maomao, but please believe me. I came here to fulfill my mission. I will offer this body to the Lord of the Moon at any time. I live to serve him."
(Well, this is just great. I've picked up a weird cultist.)
Maomao stared at Suzume, dumbfounded.
"Can't you swap with Shōkō instead?"
"I thought the same thing, but she's technically still a minor, so it didn't work out."
Apparently she had already made the inquiry.
"Shōkō! What fine taste. I've always thought that girl was a capable one, you know."
"Then why did you drag a capable girl into all this?"
"Well, when someone tells you that a person is more suited than you, don't you just get curious and want to poke at them? So before I knew it, I'd gone and brought Lady Maomao along. I never intended to drag anyone into this. Really, truly — please believe me."
For some reason, Kōrō's demeanor had turned oddly light, as if a screw had come loose.
"Ah, so that's what it was."
Suzume nodded with surprising conviction.
Maomao had no idea what she was convinced by, but there was one more thing she wanted to confirm.
"Then, Lord Kōrō — could it be that while we were in the Western Capital, you were testing me the entire time?"
It was Kōrō who had brought up the food poisoning at the brewery and the illness of the foreign dignitary.
"Testing is an unkind way to put it. I took you along because I thought you might be able to solve them."
"Including the food poisoning at the brewery?"
Maomao pressed, seeking confirmation.
Kōrō simply smiled without answering.
"Now that you mention it, the brewery must have had a rough time after that," Suzume said, changing the subject.
Maomao half wanted to press Kōrō further, but she understood that Suzume was telling her not to push it.
"The taste-testing wasn't a problem, but apparently they got caught topping off the highest-grade sake with water. They went and drank way too much — so much that they drained even the portions meant for shipment. I hear they even mixed in some diluted, sloppy batches to cover for it."
"Sloppy batches?"
That sounded familiar somehow.
"Yes. It was around the time of that moonshine scandal, so they managed to cover it up rather well — but the food poisoning incident exposed everything, apparently."
Suzume and Kōrō smiled at each other in perfect sync. Their faces looked nothing alike, but their way of grinning was eerily similar.
"It's not that she's incompetent, but her work is always sloppy. That's something I really need to drill into her properly."
"Am I going to be Suzume's subordinate?"
"Yes. I'm going to work you to the bone, so feel free to be as rough with me as you like, Maomao."
"I look forward to working with you."
Even though she'd essentially been kicked out of home, Korou was oddly cheerful.
Maomao let out a sigh and turned her back.
There was the eccentric tactician who'd hurled the contents of her stomach to create a rainbow, and the somewhat reined-in Korou, whose next move was anyone's guess.
Since she didn't want these two in her line of sight, she considered whether there was somewhere else she could go.
As it happened, when she wondered where might be good, she spotted the lookout post on the mast.
"Excuse me, would it be all right if I climbed up there?"
She checked with the crew member.
"What do you want to go up there for? It's dangerous for a young lady."
"No particular reason."
"No particular reason, she says... Folks from the capital sure do love high places."
He gave her an exasperated look, but there was nothing she could do about that. She had been thinking of giving up if it was too dangerous, but the crew member brought Maomao a rope.
"Here, a safety line. It's dangerous, so make sure you tie it securely around your body."
"Ah, thank you very much."
The fact that he'd agreed so readily left Maomao stunned.
She tied the rope around her waist.
She climbed up hand over hand until she reached the lookout post situated midway up the mast.
"..."
When she went to step inside, she found someone already there.
"Why are you here, Maomao?"
"I'll return those exact words to you, Jinshi."
Jinshi was sitting in the lookout post.
"Well, as for me—I came here to get away from something troublesome."
"You're not Lord Basen, are you? Could it be Lord Korou?"
Jinshi's face clouded over. She had apparently hit the mark.
"…What about you?"
"The weather's nice and I wanted to be outside, but that eccentric strategist is spewing his guts everywhere, so I came looking for somewhere that wasn't awful."
Their reasons were roughly the same.
"Well, sit down."
"It's cramped."
"Deal with it."
Maomao sat down where their shoulders would touch. There was no helping it—it was a tight fit.
Perhaps the only reason he'd allowed her up onto the lookout post was that there was already a prior guest.
"We can finally head back."
"The trip isn't over until we're home."
"Don't say things like that. I was just starting to feel better."
Jinshi gazed up at the sky.
White clouds lay scattered across the blue.
An utterly unremarkable scene.
"Even once we return to the capital, there's all sorts of work waiting."
"True. Work in the capital will have piled up, and more than anything, supporting Seishū Province from afar must be grueling."
But that he had no choice but to do it was plain from Jinshi's expression. A single scar remained along his otherwise immaculate profile—a mark that would never fade, though Jinshi himself seemed oddly fond of it.
(She thought of the Shi clan.)
Every time Jinshi looked in a mirror, every time he touched that scar, he must be reminded of the Shi clan as well.
Maomao knew just how strong Jinshi's sense of responsibility was. She hadn't needed to bring up his work, so why had she gone and said something so thoughtless?
"What would you like to do once you're back in the capital?"
She'd said it mainly because she couldn't think of anything else to talk about.
"…What I'd like to do?"
Jinshi fretted. He groaned and twisted his body about.
(No, it'd be a problem if you agonized over it that much.)
The Maomao who'd asked had no deeper meaning behind it.
"Is that really something worth agonizing over?"
If it were Maomao, she'd have no shortage of things she'd want to do — gathering medicinal herbs, making medicine, testing the efficacy of new remedies.
"It's just that I've been preoccupied with how to deal with all the things I'm going to be made to do whether I want to or not."
"Ah, right. The one about the consort candidate coming, wasn't it?"
She'd been Gyokuyou's adopted daughter, hadn't she? With Gyokuyou gone now, the girl who'd been sent was rather pitiful, and there was nothing to be done about it.
"As for that,
Gyokuyou
the Empress is taking care of everything. She's probably been sweet-talking them."
"Sweet-talking them...?"
"You didn't know? Gyokuyou's gift for winning people over was quite famous."
Maomao recalled her days in the rear palace. Come to think of it, she did seem to remember Gyokuyou frequently having tea with the mid-rank and lower-rank consorts and drawing them into her faction.
"It seems Gyokuyou the Empress's position remains unchanged."
Maomao had sent letters to the Central Palace on occasion, but writing to someone of the Empress's stature felt presumptuous. She had no idea what the situation was like.
"The Crown Prince and the Princess are both doing well, apparently."
"That's good to hear."
For Maomao, the Princess was more familiar than the Crown Prince. The ever-curious Princess must have grown quite a bit by now.
"When we get back, shall I go pay my respects?"
"Would it be all right if I went? Gyokuyou the Empress has
invited me
several times already."
"Actually, never mind. You don't need to go."
Jinshi answered without a moment's hesitation.
"Something I want to do… Come to think of it, there is something."
"What is it?"
Jinshi reached out with his right hand and touched Maomao's left hand.
He pressed palm to palm, making the difference in their sizes all the more apparent.
"Is this what you want to do?"
"There's more than that."
"I see."
"But I can't."
Jinshi's gaze drifted subtly toward the person on the deck who was scattering vomit in every direction.
"They're enduring it terribly hard. It must be rough."
Maomao understood Jinshi's feelings very well, and above all, she knew that she no longer had to pretend to be a eunuch.
And yet, feeling herself pressed so closely against Jinshi's side, she was oddly uncomfortable.
But at the same time, it wasn't all that unpleasant.
*"Maomao has her own circumstances too, so it's important not to get swept up by emotion. But…"*
*"You mustn't use that as an excuse."*
She recalled the words of Sparrow.
The feelings Maomao held toward Jinshi were probably not the kind of passion that burned hot. She couldn't return the feelings Jinshi harbored toward her, but at the same time, she was beginning to think there was no one else she could feel so at ease beside.
Maomao was gradually coming to grips with what her own feelings actually were.
And she had started to think she ought to properly acknowledge them.
The troublesome thing was that she never expected to be told so by that carefree maid.
*(Well, what should I do?)*
Maomao's left hand remained in contact with Jinshi's right. Nothing was happening, which was fine, but she had no idea when she was supposed to let go. So she simply stared blankly downward.
*(The crew aboard is quite different from when we departed.)*
The eccentric strategist, for one — but also
Rahan
There were also farmer friends that her brother had brought along. Maomao felt apologetic for having done them wrong.
And then she noticed something.
"Come to think of it, I haven't seen Raban?"
"Raban? All agricultural personnel were supposed to be assigned to this ship."
"Come to think of it…"
Maomao tried to recall.
Had she told Raban that he could return to the capital?
(She had forgotten to mention it after seeing how Xiaohong had changed.)
No, that couldn't be right — even if Maomao had forgotten, surely someone else must have told him.
"But Raban said something a few days ago about 'going to check on the village fields,' didn't he?"
"He'll come back, surely. In any case, all crew members are verified against the roster."
"That's true. There's no way he'd just be left behind. Just to be safe, shall we check the roster?"
"Let's do that. By the way, what is Raban's full name?"
"…"
Maomao felt sweat seeping not just from her own hands, but gradually from Jinshi's as well.
After that, it was confirmed that Raban was not aboard the ship, and at the same time Raban's real name was learned — though Raban, far away on the western lands, had not yet even realized he had been left behind.