It hadn't been too long since Arai had last been at the court, but it still felt different to him. He couldn't tell why.
Princess Aneka had greeted him. He thought she had taken some kind of liking for him. Though she liked Rashei Shiro, too.
And Shiro had met him warmly.
But the King…
Something was different.
Arai had never been in such close contact with the King and with Tadashi before. But he had observed from a distance.
And what he had observed was not what he had seen just now.
Biting his lip, Arai grasped the railing of the stairs that led to the ground-level sleeping quarters where he belonged.
He paused as he heard his name.
"Zakun Arai. Arai Junzo."
Zakun. No Hosharan used that expression–the Karunic word for the equivalent of Hoshara's metai.
Tadashi did, apparently.
"Valoren," Arai breathed.
His breath caught in his throat. He coughed slightly as his foot rested on the top step of the stairs.
"I'd like to talk to you." Tadashi stood still as he waited.
The stairs suddenly felt very welcoming to Arai.
He walked away from them anyway, closer to the valoren. Arai's hands rested lightly on his belt.
"Yes?"
Tadashi turned towards the hallway that eventually led to the courtyard.
Arai followed.
"Valoren Yazawa is lying about the Zayasu boy, isn't he," the valoren murmured some seconds later, as they walked.
Arai didn't answer. Halting, Tadashi eyed him keenly.
"Yes," Arai admitted.
He didn't know why.
Maybe because he wasn't attached to the lie.
Or maybe because he cared about "the Zayasu boy."
"Why?" the valoren questioned.
Arai held his breath.
Why?
"He wants the issue resolved." That was true, anyway.
"Will it resolve the issue?"
Arai stared unblinkingly as Tadashi went on.
"Or will it have some other effect on our friends in the mountains?"
The Karunic boy froze.
"What do you mean?" he asked quietly–very quietly.
Tadashi leaned his head back slightly as his eyes laughed. "Ah. Of course you were only following orders when you brought the message from Valoren Yazawa. And of course you were only following orders…the entire time."
Whose orders?
Arai felt the question. But Tadashi never asked it.
"It's a beautiful night," the valoren went on. "Let's go outside. These halls are too clean for this kind of conversation."
Arai waited for his blood to start flowing again. It didn't.
His hand was moving anyway.
Belt. Hilt. Dagger. Blade.
He lunged. Struck out.
Tadashi's own dagger met him before Arai's came close.
Arai felt his hand open. Felt the vibration in the floor as the blade landed in it.
Tadashi's eyes met his. Cold. Annoyed.
"You could have waited until we were outside. Now there's a mess."
Arai's vision was blurring. He glanced down anyway as the valoren held him up.
Blood. Too much.
His.
He was…
He was dying.
His gaze flicked back to the man's face as Tadashi lay him down almost gently.
"I will handle Yazawa," the valoren told him. "I will handle Zayasu as well."
Now Arai was certain the man was smiling. His own eyes blinked themselves shut.
"The war is over. You can sleep now, zakun."
Tadashi wiped his blade on the front of the metai's clothing, then straightened, slipping his dagger into its sheath.
He watched Arai's chest for a moment. It stopped moving.
Tadashi walked away slowly. He would send someone to contain the scene later.
For now, silence was what he wanted.
It was irritating that Yazawa had tried to manipulate the court with a false narrative. Though it was somewhat genius that the other valoren had intentionally betrayed his own accomplice in order to destroy the traces of the deception.
The false narrative was useful, yes.
But Yazawa should have left that conclusion to the leaders who had the right to create it.
He would learn. They would all learn.
Hoshara would win this war.
And Tadashi would lead her to victory.
~~~
Sakue had fallen asleep. Nene was in her room.
Runa sat, her hands twisted together as she waited on the ground floor. In the bakery.
Heizo had come home, some hours ago. He had been quiet. Then he had left again.
He had not come back. And now it was night.
Runa knew she should sleep. That her husband would want her to sleep.
But she couldn't stop thinking about Taro.
He wasn't her son. She tried to calm herself with that truth.
No, he wasn't her son…but she loved him anyway.
Perhaps that had been a mistake–for her and for him.
She had always known this would come. That he would leave home and become the warrior he was.
But she hadn't expected it now. And she hadn't expected this dread of not knowing whether or not he had survived it.
Now she stood for a moment, her hands falling to her sides and then coming back up as she lit another candle. The first one was nearly gutted.
She set this one in the bakery shop window, glancing outside briefly.
Her heart raced as she threw the door open. Heizo stepped inside and closed it again behind him.
"Runa," he breathed, his voice quiet.
She tried to smile.
"Are the girls asleep?" her husband asked.
Where was Taro?
Runa nodded.
"Well?" she questioned softly.
He took her hand and held it.
"Either the valoren knows, or he is guessing."
His words sent chills down her spine. Runa went very still.
"Is Taro alive? Is he…"
She didn't want to ask if he was a prisoner. Death might almost be worse than that.
Heizo pulled her close, his face contorting.
"I don't know. No one can leave Norema. No one has been sent to find him."
Her breath caught in her throat, but she said nothing.
"I waited by the gate," Heizo went on. "No one left."
"Then…"
Runa's voice trailed away as her husband supported her.
"He is alone."
A tear slipped down her cheek and landed on his shoulder.
"Heizo…"
Taro was alone.
And no one could go to him.
Not even her.
Not even him.
"What do we do?" Runa whispered, the words cold on her lips.
"We wait," he returned quietly. "And in the meantime, we ensure he has a home to return to."
His sentence awoke something in her.
Not fear.
Dread.
"Are we–"
"I think we are safe–for now." Heizo pulled himself away slightly, locking eyes with his wife. "One slip could end that."
She tried to stand on her own. She should not lean on him.
He would be suffering, too.
"What can I do?" Her voice still trembled, but she could finish her thoughts now.
"The girls must not say anything," he told her. "For their sakes. And…"
He bit his lip. But she already knew what was coming.
"Taro needs us to be distant. We cannot be complicit in Yazawa's narration."
The man sighed.
"Unless we already are, and he's simply playing with us."
Runa shuddered. "When will we know?"
Heizo frowned.
"Yazawa has to be waiting for something–for someone. Perhaps orders. As of this moment, he is containing all of Norema. That means he expects action from the outside."
"From the outside," Runa echoed, her eyes narrowing. "But…Taro is outside."
She allowed herself a deep breath.
"He is safer there, then."
Heizo's mouth twitched.
"I hope."
Then he smiled for her. She returned it–weakly.
"We should both get some rest. It's late."
~~~
Nishida didn't know what to think.
He was in bed. His weapons were away, as usual. The moonlight was blocked by the curtain across his window.
Taro Zayasu.
Valoren Yazawa had said that Taro was the hidden heir of Karun.
But that couldn't be.
Nishida rolled over, away from the window, away from the tiniest shreds of light that asked why he was awake.
He had said he would vouch for Taro with his life.
That was true.
Nishida had grown up with the slightly younger boy. They had played together. Schooled together. Gotten into trouble together. Teased Roka together.
Nishida didn't care if he was the heir or not–
No. That thought was dangerous.
He did care. But he knew Taro wasn't the heir.
Because…Taro was his friend.
Maybe it had bothered Nishida that Taro refused the Hosharan warrior's initiation. But so many young Karunic men did that. They just kept training anyway.
Why was Taro different, then?
Closing his eyes, Nishida willed himself to sleep.
Valoren Tadashi was his uncle.
He would listen to Nishida.
And if Taro was still alive, Nishida would find him.
~~~
Genjo Masahiro tended his small fire thoughtfully. Enatsu nickered softly into the night.
"Hm." Genjo glanced at the horse, then sat down by the fire, his back against a tree.
Well, he was here. It was night.
And there had been no sign of the rakhai.
Sighing, Genjo let his eyes fall shut. Firelight caressed his face as some of the wrinkles in his forehead smoothed away.
Maybe he would live through the night. Maybe he wouldn't.
In any case, either he would die–
or a myth would.