"She had let her composure slip,"
Ada
thought to herself.
While watching the expressions of the other three, she was grateful that — though they had noticed — they pretended not to. She wanted it to be as though it never happened, and she would make it so.
Yang
had summoned Tsuki here before the surgery for a reason.
Tsuki
had been called here for this purpose. And she wondered what it meant that he had also summoned Ada, who was ostensibly unrelated to any of it.
She thought that Yang had no intention of letting Tsuki go. Was it because of some foolish promise he had made with Ada long ago, or was it because, as the "Heaven," he wanted Tsuki to inherit the mantle of "Heaven" as well?
That was why, under the guise of leaving a final will, he had called Ada and the others.
In truth, a woman who was not even a consort had no place at such an important meeting. The one who should have been summoned was the empress,
Gyokuyou.
She was the one who should have been called.
There were ways to bind Tsuki. He could officially designate him as his successor in his capacity as Emperor. There would be many enemies, but many allies too. Most importantly, designating a younger brother rather than his own son would certainly throw everyone into confusion, but that too could be resolved.
All he had to do here was tell Tsuki that he was his true son.
No matter how much Tsuki might resist, Yang's
command
was not something he could refuse.
The fact that the other princes were still young, and Tsuki's exceptional administrative ability — those two factors would overcome even the disadvantage of Ada's low standing as his birth mother.
But for Empress Gyokuyou and her clan, this would be an outrageous matter.
Yang doted on Gyokuyou. Beyond her position, he surely admired her character as well. Ada had attended several tea gatherings with her and had thought her a fine consort. At the very least, she was not the sort of person who would deliberately try to bring ruin upon the nation.
He had no intention of causing Gyokuyou any trouble.
There was no need to drag out a prince who was supposed to be dead and create a firestorm.
What Yang was attempting to do was, Ada thought, foolish beyond all measure.
But even so, Yang himself must have been thinking the same thing, despite knowing better.
Yang was not "Human" — he was "Heaven." Everyone else was "Human." Everything Yang did was permissible so long as he remained Emperor. That is, as long as the Mandate of Heaven was not revoked.
As "Heaven," he could treat "Humans" however he pleased. He didn't even need to consider what it meant to appoint someone as an instructor for night companions on a whim. He held the power to look after a single "Human" for their entire life. So there was no need to worry about it.
Yang was "Heaven," but what about Yue? Was Yue also "Heaven"?
But that was merely Ada's unfounded worry.
Yue was not "Heaven." He was "Human."
Yang was still looking at Ada.
Ada hid the fallen drop in her palm as she looked at Yang.
"Yang. Yue is saying this. What will you do?"
She must have managed to speak in her usual voice.
"..."
"Shall we send him away for now?"
"Yes."
Yang's attitude left Yue and...
Maomao...
...both dumbfounded. Yue probably couldn't understand why Ada was here in the first place, and even less could he comprehend why Ada had called for Maomao.
He didn't notice, despite being so perceptive.
There had even been a time when she called Yang "Father" in the old-fashioned way.
People had told Yue and Ada many times that they had similar auras.
In fact, Ada had even served as Yue's stand-in before.
As long as he noticed but pretended not to know, that would be fine.
Or perhaps...
Suiren...
...had managed to cover things up skillfully?
Either way, it didn't matter.
For Ada, Getsuki was "human." He had now confirmed as much.
And it must have been a shock for Hiraku as well.
"Is this acceptable?"
Getsuki asked Hiraku.
"Yes."
"What will you do about tomorrow's surgery?"
"Don't worry. I'll go through with it quietly."
At those words, Maomao looked more relieved than Getsuki did.
"What about your last will and testament?"
Unable to bring himself to ask, Ada spoke on Getsuki's behalf.
"I'll write it later. Just go home for now."
Getsuki's face was filled with anxiety. Maomao looked worried too, but since the matter of going through with surgery seemed to outweigh everything else, she didn't appear quite so grave.
"Well then, we'll take our leave."
Getsuki and Maomao stood to go, and Ada rose as if to follow them out.
"Wait."
"What is it?"
"I have business with you."
Hiraku didn't let go of his hand.
"Fine, fine, I get it. Don't worry about me — both of you, go on home."
Getsuki and Maomao exchanged a glance, then left the room.
Only once it was quiet did Hiraku finally release his grip.
"Don't even think about asking me to write on your behalf. If you die, they'll execute me for forgery."
"As if I'd do something like that."
Hiraku gazed up at the ceiling.
"You wouldn't write Getsuki down as the next Emperor?"
Yo remained silent.
"If it's Tsuki, once he takes the throne, he'll handle his duties properly. He'd probably step down on his own once Tōgū has grown."
Yo kept gazing upward.
"He may not go down in history as a wise Emperor, but he won't become a foolish one, either."
"…Shall I write it down?"
"No. I don't suit the role of Empress Mother, do I?"
Ada said, with a self-deprecating air.
"I thought you'd say that to Tsuki — about the mistakes I made."
"You're the one who anticipated it and brought in an outsider, aren't you, Ada?"
"No harm in telling her. Maomao is clever."
"Well,
she's Rakan's
daughter, after all."
She finally understood why Yo had been staring at the ceiling all this time — he was trying to keep the tears welling in his eyes from spilling over.
"Ada. Do you resent me?"
"Yo. Do you really think you don't deserve to be resented?"
"Was there something lacking?"
"Ha ha ha. That's exactly the kind of thing you'd say."
Yo had always treated Ada well. During his time as Crown Prince and after ascending to the throne alike, he had made sure she never wanted for anything. Even after she left the rear palace, he continued to look after her, and the fact that she held a special place in his life had surely been plain for everyone around them to see.
"Did you want me to be Empress Mother?"
"You were the one who said it, weren't you?"
Tears spilled from Yo's eyes and traced down his cheeks.
"Ada will keep her promise to me. As long as I don't go back on it, she'll keep it — won't she?"
"That's right. How many times have you broken your promises to me?"
Ada reached out toward her exasperating younger brother. She made no move to wipe away his tears. Instead, she tugged at his beard.
"Even though you set up a Crown Prince in Tsuki's place, you must have thought I'd stay on while he was still young?"
"Yes. Because Ada is nothing if not loyal."
Ada was furious. Her fingers tightened, on the verge of yanking his beard clean out.
"By installing a young Crown Prince, you could manipulate the other ministers. When the time came, did you plan to swap in Tsuki once she'd grown up? Or did you intend to break your promise to me? If you were going to break it, you should have just said so from the start. Did you really mean to keep me like a pet for years? For decades?"
Indecisive. It was a flaw that should never be excused, but Yo got away with it.
"When it comes to politics, you can make decisions much more decisively! You should have just cut loose useless baggage like me!"
"You're not baggage."
"I am baggage! Do you know how many years I've been laughed at as a consort with no purpose? You wouldn't know. You think women's feuds can't possibly be as vicious as men's. You're right — there aren't many outright brawls. Just the occasional stabbing, the occasional poisoning, the occasional arson."
Ada tugged hard on Yo's beard, forcing their eyes to meet. The tears that had been brimming over spilled out and splashed against her cheeks.
"I can no longer bear children. When that child died, why didn't you just break your promise?"
"Ada. You would never break a promise of your own accord. Once you knew a promise could no longer be kept, no matter the form it took, you'd simply wander off somewhere on your own."
But she had stayed.
"So that's it. How you figured out the baby swap."
Ada couldn't help but laugh. The co-conspirators in the swap —
Anshi
and Mizuren would never have betrayed her, so she had always wondered how Yo had found out.
"You really do understand how I work."
"Yes."
"Surely you, of all people, haven't forgotten what I wanted to do."
"Yes."
Back when Yo was still Crown Prince, they would often sneak away from their studies and hide somewhere to eat sweets. Chewing and chattering away, they once had this conversation:
"Since I can't become an official anyway, maybe I'll just become a merchant."
It had been years since Ada had leaned against a railing and said something like that. Once she became the night-duty instructor, she wouldn't be able to leave the palace, let alone become a merchant.
There was no way she hadn't known that.
"To you, the night-duty instructor position was nothing but a passing whim. But to me, it was the question of my entire life."
"…If Ada had become a merchant, she would never have returned to the palace."
Hi's hair, now threaded with white, falls softly.
"You wouldn't come back to me, would you?"
"Come back to you? There'd be no coming back. Unless Hi himself summoned me, we wouldn't be able to meet at all."
Ada had no authority to summon Hi. If it were the other way around, maybe.
Their stations had been different from birth. Her mother Suiran had only been a wet nurse — without that, he was the sort of person she might never have laid eyes on in her entire life.
She understood what Hi was trying to say. Hi was someone who could be given anything, but couldn't go just anywhere.
He must have been afraid of Ada going far away. At the innocent age of twelve or thirteen, he probably couldn't have thought that deeply about it.
"I never wanted to send you anywhere. That's why I tried to keep the promise."
"A promise that helped no one? Even when you knew I didn't truly want to become Empress?"
"That's right."
Hi, as the "Heaven," had owned Ada, a mere "human."
What about Hi's son, Tsuki?
Would he follow the same path as his father? Was that why he had called for Maomao — to find out whether he would "own" Maomao or not?
It had been an unnecessary worry.
Tsuki was not "Heaven" but "human."
"Ada. If you had become a merchant — could you have stayed friends with me?"
"Give me court patronage and I'd be your friend as much as you liked."
"Ha ha ha."
Hi laughed, and tears spilled down his cheeks.
"Say. I have a favor to ask."
Ada let go of his beard and wrapped both arms around Hi's neck, drawing her face close to his.
"I'll annul the promise myself."
"You mean you'd leave my side?"
Ada desperately held down Hi's head as he tried to lift it.
"No, I'll be here until the very end. The burden my palace carries is far too great for anyone else to bear."
In Sui—
the children of the branch families, and
in Saou—
the priestess.
"So let Tsuki do as he pleases."
She whispered into Hi's ear in a small voice.
"I'll listen to as much of your grumbling as you like. Even until my bones are laid to rest."
Ada knew just how arrogant her request was.
She had only one child—Tsuki. But Hi had other children besides Tsuki. Yet she was asking him to treat Tsuki as special.
"He's royalty, but he's far too close to being merely 'human.' Too kind."
"Indeed."
"He has the talent to be a wise ruler, but I don't believe he'll live long."
"Perhaps not."
What an emperor needed was not kindness, but mercy—something bestowed from above. A ruler who regarded his people as his equals and tried to think of them that way would only burn himself out. Tsuki had never intended from the start to drag anyone who could heal that wound into this.
He felt guilty toward Gyokuyou, Rifa, and the other consorts.
Ada was making an outrageously selfish demand of Hi.
To protect her own child, she was trying to push the burden onto the others.
"I made a mistake. It was wrong to hand over the management of the Inner Court as part of some silly bet. Why did I ever agree to such a wager?"
"Ada. That boy is surprisingly cunning."
"Ha ha ha. He had the consorts in the Inner Court completely fooled, after all."
"Yet for all that, he hadn't laid a finger on a single one."
"For you, Hi, it saves the trouble of producing children. But Tsuki probably understood all too well what a nuisance that would be."
Hi's head shook. He seemed to have enough composure left to at least laugh.
"Hi, go to sleep. Tomorrow is the day for that dreadfully painful surgery."
"Don't rile me up. I know. I'll go to sleep. If I'm sleep-deprived and my stamina runs dry, causing some abnormal reaction, that would be a disaster."
"Aren't you going to write a will?"
"I don't intend to die."
"Write one anyway. If something goes wrong, at least you can say the physicians bear no blame."
Ada released her grip on Hi's head.
"So you're assuming you'll be killing me."
Hi, well past the age for such behavior, puffed out his cheeks in a sulk.
"Maomao is assisting with the surgery as well. If you fail, you'll have the Rhoa clan as your enemies."
"Give me a break. Rakghan's been hounding me nonstop over that business with exiling his uncle."
"If you fail, I won't be in this world anymore, so there'll be no one to hound you."
"That's exactly why you shouldn't phrase it as if my death is a foregone conclusion."
Despite his words, Hi pulled out writing implements.
"Your handwriting is still atrocious, I see."
"Shut up."
With the kind of bickering you'd expect from ten-year-olds, Ada and Hi began composing the will.
Hi took the "Heavenly" sections, Ada the "Human" ones. Even so, they could each manage a rough imitation of the other's part.