Thus Ended Winter's Rebellion

It was nearly dawn when he was suddenly called to the royal palace.

The car's headlights shone brightly as it traveled through the pitch-black hills of the upper-class residential district. Its passengers included Kushihiko, the chamberlain, and three members of the Royal Guard, one of whom was the driver. All were too tense to speak. The foreign music pouring from the car radio was bright and cheerful, wholly out of place in such a bleak atmosphere. When they arrived at the palace gate, Kushihiko and the others flashed their IDs to the guards and abandoned the car near the entrance.

Fronted by the chamberlain in his black formal wear and the three Royal Guards in their dull brown military uniforms, Kushihiko ran down the electrically-lit corridor as fast as he could manage. As he ran, the image of the prince dressed in black court attire with gold embroidery, was reflected on the cold windows.

The Royal Guards, their weapons at the ready, stood at attention at every corner. Kushihiko could just barely make out the sound of a helicopter.

The Royal Guards positioned at both sides of the master bedroom's doors opened them and announced his arrival.

His Highness, the honorable Prince Kushihiko, has arrived.

The familiar faces gathered in the bedroom showed no reaction to his arrival.

His cousin, dressed in a naval uniform, sat in a chair looking stunned, mindlessly flicking the lid of his lighter open and shut.

His sister-in-law, still in her nightclothes, clung to the massive canopy bed, crying.

More than the news of her father's death, it was the sight of her distraught mother that terrified Kushihiko's young niece, who looked up with wide eyes from her nurse's lap.

White-clad court physicians and shrine maidens holding sacred sakaki tree branches stood helplessly beside the bed.

Suddenly jostled from behind, Kushihiko nearly fell over. It was his second-eldest brother, shoving through in full military uniform.

Elder Brother! Your Majesty . . . Your Majesty, please . . .

Kushihiko's second-eldest brother muttered in panic, glancing around at his surroundings.

Someone, please tell me this is all an act!

The head of the court physicians, a middle-aged doctor, stepped forward.

While I wish it were so, this is no act.

The head court physician spoke with a gentle, yet commanding tone.

His Majesty the King has embarked on a journey to the underworld.

Kushihiko's second-eldest brother fell to his knees in shock, sobbing. One of the cousins moved to put an arm around the crying man's shoulders. In response, Kushihiko's brother grabbed hold of him tightly. The cousin grimaced at his military uniform being soiled by snot and tears.

Kushihiko found himself at his eldest brother's bedside, peering at his body. He noticed the mole on his brother's throat for the first time. There was a faint smell of death. The body was already beginning to decay.

Unconsciously, Kushihiko's hand sought out his cane. It was sleek and black, the handle adorned with silver.

It was the command baton of the Royal Guard, the symbol of the power to rule over the king’s personal guards.

Just three short weeks ago, his eldest brother, the king, had presented him with this cane. And now, his brother was no more.

His brother was dead.

The king was dead.

What was he supposed to think?

Kushihiko's mind raced, desperately searching for an answer. It came swiftly.

Who would be the next king?

Three weeks earlier.

Thus, the winter of rebellion has passed, and we welcome the spring of prosperity!

Kushihiko spoke with a smile on his face, his voice clear and confident.

The ceremony appointing Prince Kushihiko as the new head of the Royal Guard was held in the palace Basilica.

On this very day, His Majesty the King has bestowed upon me, Kushihiko, his lowly servant, the command baton of the Royal Guard. Truly, this is both an honor and a great responsibility.

Kushihiko grandly surveyed the Basilica. White decorative columns lined the walls. Dignitaries from home and abroad had been invited to the celebration. Although it was dusk, the hall was brighter than daytime due to the electric lights.

To my king, my kingdom, and all the nobles in attendance: let nothing interrupt our enjoyment of the beautiful spring cherry blossoms!

His attempt to appeal to the king and guests was met with warm laughter and applause. All was well.

After a perfectly-timed pause, Kushihiko continued with his speech.

Thus, the winter of rebellion has passed, and the sun of civilization shines upon us. The snow covering the roads has melted, and the mountain cherries bloom in Yoshino. Now the world is illuminated by electric lights, our stone axes adorning the walls as mere decorations. The copper drums of war have been replaced by the cannon at noon— the warrior’s battle cry by the whistle of trains. Now, instead of arming our bows with stone-tipped arrows to stir the wild spirits, we revel in banquets in concrete palaces.

Kushihiko thought to himself, continuing with a smile.

But I, since I was born, have never known such fun and games.

Reflected in the ornamental mirror of the grand hall was a cursed child, half his being stolen at the whim of the gods. He was dressed in black court attire with gold embroidery, golden epaulettes, medals, and decorative belts, pretending to be a full member of the royal family.

The Honorable Prince Kinokawa Kushihiko no Mikoto was the king's younger brother, yet he was only half a prince, the outcast of the royal family.

Once he finished his speech, Kushihiko was met with polite applause. He looked around the event hall from the podium.

The Basilica was the grandest and most luxurious building in the palace, designed to showcase the king’s majesty both domestically and internationally.

It had a high ceiling like that of a theater, with light green walls depicting the gods of the Kingdom. The electric chandeliers were dazzling in the night.

Row after row of chairs on the red carpet and balcony were filled with military uniforms, black formal wear, and colorful ethnic costumes.

Kushihiko bowed to the head deity's statue and to his brother, the king, who was seated on the throne.

He also bowed to the distinguished guests seated to the right of the podium, then to the nobles filling the venue.

Having completed his inaugural speech without incident, Kushihiko moved away from the podium. Beside it stood a man in a red military uniform.

The man next to him was nineteen years old, two years older than Kushihiko. He was tall and well-proportioned, with bronze skin. His red jacket was buttoned up to a high collar, and he wore navy trousers with gold buttons. A white leather belt crossed over his chest, from which hung a sword and a revolver. His jewel-colored eyes vigilantly scanned the surroundings. His military uniform suited him so well that it was almost off-putting.

The faint scar under his left eye silently spoke of his experience in real battles.

Kushihiko addressed him in a practiced tone, quietly.

Ishimaro, I need your help.

At that, Kurifu no Ishimaro's sharp gaze softened.

Of course, Your Highness.

Both moved with practiced ease, working in unison.

When he descended staircases, Kushihiko always held the handrail with his right hand. Due perhaps to an over-emphasis on aesthetics, however, the lectern in the Basilica only had a railing in the back. This made it possible for Kushihiko to ascend alone, but impossible for him to descend afterwards.

After moving behind the curtain, Ishimaro spoke to Kushihiko in his usual manner.

I'll take your hat, Your Highness.

Thanks, Ishimaro. Here, take my cane as well.

Kushihiko said this just to test his retainer.

The cane was a glossy black from grip to tip, aside from a bit of white silver inlay beneath the handle.

Yes, Your Highness.

When Ishimaro foolishly reached out to take the cane, Kushihiko quickly extended his right hand to stop him.

Ishimaro, do you know what this cane represents?

Kushihiko asked gently, to avoid frightening Ishimaro, who responded energetically.

It's a command baton! The symbol of your authority as commander of the Royal Guard!

Exactly. Though it's an honorary position, I'm the supreme commander of the Royal Guard. Do you know what this silver axe inlay symbolizes?

The axe is a symbol of royal and military authority bestowed by the His Majesty the King!

Ishimaro responded with a line he had memorized.

You always have the right answers, don't you, Ishimaro?

Yes!

So, taking this cane from me means . . . ?

Means what?

Ishimaro made a cute, slightly puzzled face.

It seemed like he was about to be scolded.

You would be declaring, in the middle of the royal palace, that you are taking the command of the Royal Guard from Prince Kushihiko.

In that case, Your Highness, you should keep the cane.

Kushihiko retrieved the cane, grasping it below the handle with his right hand, then passing it to his left, which he was unable to lift past his stomach. The black leather glove he wore on his left hand was designed like a mitten, with all fingers joined save the thumb.

All around them, nobles and high officials chatted and laughed while a band played popular music.

The two wandered around the venue together until their next engagement.

Ishimaro kept an eye on their surroundings while Kushihiko swayed slightly from side to side.

Your Highness, you're as eloquent as ever in your speeches!

Ishimaro raised his voice slightly to ensure it was not drowned out by the chatter of the guests or the band's foreign pop songs.

I just did as instructed by my rhetoric teacher. Ishimaro, you attended those lectures with me, didn’t you?

Kushihiko held nothing but the black and silver command cane in his left hand, his right hand empty.

Did I? I must have slept through half of it.

You sure did. It was just you, me, and your sister, yet you right slept through it.

The tutors were really angry at first, but after a while they stopped scolding me, even when I fell asleep.

I might stop scolding you right before I fire you. You'd better be careful.

At that moment, a figure approached the pair, deftly weaving through the crowd of guests and palace retainers.

Your Highness, may I offer you something to drink?

The girl presented the two glasses she held, one in each hand. Her jewel-colored eyes, brown skin, and slightly slanted, cat-like eyes made her look sharp. Her vibrant skirt and white maid headpiece suited her exceptionally well.

Kurifu no Emi was Kushihiko's retainer and his former wet nurse's daughter, as well as Ishimaro's sister. She was fifteen years old, two years younger than Kushihiko.

Kushihiko reached out his right hand and picked up a glass. It was filled with what looked like wine diluted with water.

If you must have retainers, it's best to have clever ones.

Their fingers touched briefly during the handover. Emi's fingers were slender, long, flexible, and cold.

Hey, Emi, where's my drink?

Ishimaro pouted.

Oh, brother, you're here, too?

Emi said, as if she had only just noticed her brother's presence.

I've been here the whole time! Right next to the podium where everyone could see me! Right, Your Highness?

Honestly, I don't remember. I was half-asleep.

Kushihiko's words caused Emi to burst into laughter while Ishimaro sulked.

Emi handed the second glass to her brother and went back to the drink table for her own. Kushihiko smiled and took a sip. The mix of grape juice and spring water was refreshing to his parched tongue. It didn't actually have any alcohol in it; Kushihiko did not tolerate alcohol well.

I feel at peace when I’m with these two attendants.

Firstly, Ishimaro had naturally assumed the second glass had been his sister's drink, rather than own. Emi, meanwhile, knowing her brother could not leave his duty, gave it to him. They were always thinking of each other.

Secondly, both of them naturally stood on Kushihiko's right side.

Kushihiko's left leg was supported by a lightweight aluminum alloy brace over his black pants, which allowed him to walk more easily. He carefully moved his weak left leg forward with its white splint, then his right leg to match, repeating the process with each step. His black boots were specially crafted to fit his deformed left foot, secured with a thick sole.

He managed everything with his right hand, keeping his left arm resting against his side. He never removed the black leather glove covering his left hand in public, always mindful to hide it when photographed.

Prince Kinokawa Kushihiko had been a cripple since birth.

Therefore, no one could have predicted that on this banquet night, Kushihiko would end up in a mock wrestling match in the heart of the royal palace. Least of all, Kushihiko himself.

◇◇◇

After giving his speech, Kushihiko made a round of the venue before slipping into a waiting room under the pretense of changing his clothes.

The assigned room was luxurious and tastefully decorated, with a well-polished reception desk, a sofa, and a mirror with fabric draped over it. A pitcher had been placed near the wall. Only Kushihiko and Emi entered the room. Ishimaro and a Royal Guard stood watch outside the door.

On the wall hung a portrait of Kushihiko's grandfather, the former king. His white hair was neatly tied up, his majestic white beard and black coat exuding authority. He held the stone axe that symbolized the king's power over the people. Kushihiko spent a few seconds gazing at the image of the grandfather he knew only from photos and paintings.

Alright, Emi, let’s get started.

After composing himself, Kushihiko nodded.

Tonight's banquet was in honor of Kushihiko. In their culture, the guest of honor was expected to be generous to the other guests.

On this day of celebration, many guests came to congratulate Kushihiko, from close friends to near strangers, offering gifts and asking favors.

Each time Ishimaro knocked on the door, Emi would take over, whispering into Kushihiko’s ear before anyone was allowed to enter.

This is Nikeforos of Yato, an immigrant from the Empire. He doesn't speak the Kingdom's language. You've only met him once before, at his second son's graduation.

Kushihiko switched his mind to the Empire's language, then welcomed the red-haired, bearded man dressed in a toga.

Mr. Nikeforos! Is your son well?

Kushihiko extended his right hand for a handshake. Nikeforos's stern face brightened as he shook it.

It's an honor, Prince Kinokawa! To think that you even remembered my name!

Emi had two exceptional traits: meticulousness and memory. She created index cards with information on the Kingdom's prominent clan members, their attendants, and foreign dignitaries, memorizing nearly all of them.

Before he met with important people, she would swiftly whisper any necessary information into Kushihiko’s ear.

After the formal greetings, Nikeforos explained his business.

Actually, Your Highness, I have a favor to ask.

His favor was to have Kushihiko help him in a land dispute with a neighboring landlord.

Please, intercede with His Majesty the King on my behalf.

With a courteous bow, Nikeforos took his leave.

Kushihiko cheerfully but efficiently saw him out. There were still many others waiting.

The Kingdom's nobles varied widely in appearance, clothing, and speech. They had journeyed from afar by car, horse, train, ship, and plane to reach the capital, all for Kushihiko's inauguration.

The administrator of Kushihiko’s territory came with a delegation of villagers, asking for help in dealing with local bandits.

One hirsute noble in a black frock coat had such a strong accent in the Kingdom's language that Kushihiko had to resort to speaking in the Empire's language.

With one elderly woman in unfamiliar ethnic attire and tattoos, communication was so difficult that they needed two interpreters.

Kushihiko congratulated noble after noble he hardly knew for their daughters' birthdays and their nephews' marriages.

The noble clans were delighted.

To think that royalty remembered our names!

Kushihiko greeted the next visitors with a smile, exchanged pleasantries, listened to their requests, then directed the petitioners towards the door.

As they were leaving, everyone said:

Please intercede with His Majesty the King on our behalf.

After seeing dozens of people, Prince Kinokawa Kushihiko whispered to Emi, making sure only she could hear.

His Majesty the King, His Majesty the King—that’s all anyone says. Have I wandered into my brother's celebration by mistake?

Emi smiled awkwardly, trying to play along.

Having an acquaintance influential enough to speak directly to His Majesty on their behalf must make them feel well-represented.

You always manage to word things so elegantly.

Kushihiko pressed his elbow firmly into the sofa's armrest, exerting effort to stand up and welcome the next guest.

Emi laughed and filled a glass with water from the pitcher near the wall.

The next guest will be the final one.

Just then, they heard a knock at the door. When Emi opened it just a crack, Ishimaro whispered through the gap. They seemed to be having some sort of an argument. After a while, the door opened, and Ishimaro entered with a somewhat uncomfortable-looking Royal Guard.

◇◇◇

The guard, dressed in a brown uniform with her blue cap tucked under her arm, walked to the center of the room, then straightened her posture.

General—no, Your Highness.

Since Kushihiko had only just been given a new title, it seemed that the proper form of address had yet to be decided.

The Royal Guard was a young woman with a rather prominent forehead. Her black hair, which was tied back, resembled a long serpent's tail, A few strands fell across her broad, pale forehead. She wore stylish, gold-rimmed glasses.

Her brown military uniform, blue cylindrical cap, and patch depicting crossed axes on her collar indicated that her rank was captain. A dagger with a curved handle was fastened to her lower back, and she wore a belt over her shoulders, like suspenders, with a total of four leather holsters attached to it, one on each side of her chest and one at each hip.

The young woman was a Royal Guard officer, wearing expensive glasses—clearly a daughter of some powerful military family.

When she spoke, her demeanor was calm and confident.

Though it was not planned in advance, General Iraki requested that I greet you, Your Highness.

From this, Kushihiko could roughly guess the situation.

The Royal Guard was the royal family's personal guard, a separate military organization that swore loyalty only to the king, distinct from the army or police.

However, he heard that the Royal Guard often had dealings with the military. It seemed likely that her superior in the Guard, under pressure from a high-ranking military officer, had hastily arranged this meeting. Kushihiko decided to inquire further.

Did you hear what the General wished to speak to me about?

No, I have not heard. But from your expression, you do not seem angered by my visit.

She was a rather pleasant woman to talk to. Her explanations were clear, and despite being thrust into the role of delivering potentially unpleasant news to royalty, she was neither flustered nor overconfident. She seemed both intelligent and mild-mannered. And yet . . .

Emi, standing by, looked at Kushihiko apologetically.

Your Highness, will you meet with the General?

Of course I will. I would be glad to speak with him, at any time!

Kushihiko replied without hesitating, then turned back to face the somewhat uneasy Royal Guard.

What was your name again?

I am Captain Kanamiya.

Before the General is allowed in, could I ask for about five minutes? I must prepare for our meeting.

Upon hearing this, the bespectacled Royal Guard thanked him and bowed, leaving the room together with Ishimaro.

Once again alone with Emi, Kushihiko stared at the door for about ten seconds, deep in thought.

Emi took the glass of water that had been sitting by the wall since before the captain's arrival and placed it by Kushihiko's right hand. He then spoke.

What was the name of that Royal Guard member?

Kanamiya no Kagana, Captain of the Royal Guard. She's the niece of the head of the Kanamiya family, which has considerable military influence.

Did you see? She had four holsters hanging from her belt. Her entire front was covered in pistols. Must be heavy.

Yes, Your Highness. It did look rather heavy.

Each one looked well-worn. She must use them almost daily, probably on people.

She seems like a formidable person.

Emi's words came straight from her heart.

Such a dreadful duty we royals have burdened her with.

That's just the way it is.

Emi faltered. Kushihiko silently took a sip of cold water, making note of Captain Kanamiya in his mind. Whether he could use her, or if he had to eliminate her, knowledge was essential. Collecting information on potentially useful or threatening individuals was an inherent part of royal life. Kushihiko exhaled slowly.

She said that General Iraki was here to meet with me, didn't she?

Yes, General Iraki no Ikazuchi. The General of the Army. Just last month, his fifteenth grandchild was born, a boy.

Kushihiko voiced his doubts in order to organize his thoughts.

He's the most powerful man in the military. He could meet with the king directly, yet he requests something from a minor royal like me?

◇◇◇

Just as Emi was about to fully open the door, Kushihiko greeted the General with a high-pitched, slightly eager voice in an attempt to seem warm and friendly.

General! I hope that your grandson is in good health.

The General looked at Kushihiko as if he had been caught off guard.

Prince Kinokawa . . . Has my grandson done something wrong?

Kushihiko and Emi's smiles stiffened.

The colonel standing beside him quickly whispered something to the General. His eyes widened in shock.

What, another one was just born?! When?

As the colonel continued to explain, Kushihiko and Emi maintained their friendly smiles flawlessly.

Prince Kinokawa, it’s unbelievable. We live in such a heartless world. Not a word to the grandfather before the child was born. Neither my daughter nor my son-in-law said a word about this when we met last year.

Maybe the General's daughter's pregnancy hadn’t been confirmed yet. That thought drifted through Kushihiko's mind, but he held his tongue.

Colonel, tell me sooner next time. They'll think I forgot to send a gift to celebrate the birth.

Once the General, who was already too late to send a gift, finished voicing his complaints, the colonel, who had an intelligent demeanor about him, spoke.

My apologies.

Kushihiko conveyed his thoughts to Emi through a glance.

Can you believe it? This man is the highest-ranking officer of our nation's military.

General Iraki was an older man in his sixties, with a kind face. He was dressed to the nines in a Kingdom army uniform adorned with countless medals, a remnant of the muscular man he once was, with many tattoos, as was common among the elderly. While he kept his white hair cut short, an impressive white mustache sprouted from his face. The General was notorious for his laid-back personality among the Kingdom's dignitaries.

One a minor royal and the other a powerful general, the two naturally spoke in formal tones. As a matter of protocol, Kushihiko posed a question.

Is the army in good condition?

The army dispatched to the continent is causing problems. Just like our forces that have been incorporated into the Imperial Army, we have no control. The nobility are reluctant to supply clan soldiers to the national army, making it hard to control the northern barbarian tribes. Moreover, the core of the continental dispatch consists of soldiers from the Okinaga Clan. I have never been able to trust them, not with that evil bamboo god they worship.

The General openly discussing politics, religion, ethnicity, and military secrets, left Kushihiko struggling for a reaction. As a result, Kushihiko simply laughed awkwardly. When he tentatively offered a chair, the general sat down, while the colonel remained standing behind him.

The General spoke at length about things that were neither the topic at hand nor a prerequisite.

Our kingdom and the 'allied' Imperial forces are ostensibly equal, but our partner is a vast empire controlling a third of the entire land mass. Imperial language is understood even within our kingdom, and Imperial currency has value. But why should such scraps of paper be tradeable for goods? Our nation was once scolded for printing some ourselves, though they do just the same!

Emi, reading the room, offered a tray with drinks. The General took a glass as if it were the natural thing to do.

In that moment, Kushihiko confirmed that both Emi and the colonel showed confusion on their faces.

The General downed his drink in one gulp, his tone becoming somewhat milder as he continued to complain to Kushihiko.

This war is now in its third year. Even now, the allied forces are fighting the Republic on the continent. The war is unpopular here in the Kingdom, and I hear there are anti-war movements in the Empire, as well. The new Imperial army commander is eager to put an end to it. We keep getting urgent requests for more troops from the Kingdom, but though we cannot refuse the Empire's demands, we lack both the soldiers and the money. But, if we print more money, we get scolded. What are we to do?

Such matters seem a bit beyond my control.

Kushihiko's voice betrayed his confusion. Hearing this, the General frowned and retorted.

Your Highness may say so, but there is nothing you are incapable of doing. That kind of reply is either you not wanting to or it not suiting your interests well. You are both royalty and commander of the Royal Guard. You have the power; all that is needed is the will.

General, I appreciate that you hold me in high regard, but mediating a war is quite beyond me.

At that moment, the colonel quickly whispered something into the General's ear.

Oh, that's right! I came today to ask a favor of Your Highness.

Kushihiko was taken aback. It seemed that everything discussed so far had nothing to do with the main issue.

The General continued in a nonchalant tone.

Actually, Your Highness, there has been a slight misunderstanding with the Royal Guard. It is a trivial matter, but . . .

Do you mean to say that the Royal Guard has caused some trouble for the military?

The Royal Guard was directly under the king's command. If they had conflicts with the national military, it would be a major incident.

In response to Kushihiko's serious tone, the General waved his hand dismissively.

No, no.

Oh, it is just a small issue. The Royal Guard requested to use a military facility for storage. However, their doing so would be rather inconvenient for the army. Therefore, we would like you to make the decision, as commander.

The General's explanation was vague and somewhat suspicious. Kushihiko tensed up beneath his smile.

Trying to gauge the other's intentions, Kushihiko spoke with a hint of weariness.

General, I was only appointed commander at noon today. For matters such as this, I recommend that you speak to a more experienced member of the guard.

Though Kushihiko attempted to evade responsibility, the General persisted.

No, it really should be you, Your Highness. After all, you are the commander of the Royal Guard.

The general's insistence made Kushihiko even more suspicious.

I am still new to my position; I barely know my way around. If I start making agreements hastily, it will only complicate things further. I will speak with senior members of the Royal Guard on what should best be done concerning this matter.

The General seemed somewhat satisfied with Kushihiko's response.

Please do. I'm also not entirely clear on the details, so here’s my contact at the military headquarters.

The General's blatant disrespect towards royalty was apparent. Kushihiko was internally shocked that such a request was even being made.

Entirely unconcerned with Kushihiko's feelings, the General relaxed, relieved that one problem had been solved.

We both have our struggles, Prince Kinokawa. These are complex times. Everything has changed from the old days.

With one-sided familiarity, the General gently placed his hand on Kushihiko's right arm as he reached for his glass.

In your grandfather's time, I fought with axes, lances, and muskets. Everything was clear and natural. You would scatter the enemy's remains across the mountains, take a woman from the defeated lands as your wife, and have her bear your next child. But now, strange sorcery from the Empire has seeped in, making the world all complicated with their talk of parliaments, airplanes, and basic human rights. It's all too confusing.

Kushihiko forced a smile and discreetly tried to remove the General's hand, while Emi and the colonel looked for an opportunity to intervene.

Suddenly, there was a commotion outside the door.

Ishimaro was loudly arguing with someone. No, not arguing—pleading, while someone else yelled at him.

As a commanding voice was heard, the door swung open forcefully.

In this kingdom, there is only one person more important than me—the great king himself!

The colonel straightened up and saluted. General Iraki stood up from the couch.

Ah, Prince Takahara!

Emi quickly whispered into Kushihiko's ear.

That's Prince Takahara, your older brother. He's an Air Force Colonel and fighter pilot. He's fired his gun twice while drunk.

My second eldest brother.

Kushihiko whispered to Emi, hiding his frustration, then quickly composed a smile before turning around.

Kushihiko's father had three sons: the current King, Kushihiko's eldest brother; Kushihiko, the youngest; and the second oldest, Prince Takahara.

Known as The Blue Hawk of the Capital, Prince Takahara had received the nickname from reporters and postcard sellers.

He was dressed in Air Force blue with a black necktie, his uniform adorned with a colonel's insignia on his shoulder, a row of medals on the left side of his chest, and a pilot's badge shaped like wings. He stood taller than Kushihiko, giving off an unmistakable aura of overconfidence.

He was followed by a decadent entourage of delinquent Air Force officers, actresses and aspiring actresses, models and aspiring models, painters, sculptors, gossip journalists, satirical poets, film directors, and republicans.

Kushihiko despised them. They always ridiculed him behind his back.

Among the familiar followers was an energetic man with too much gel in his hair, making futile efforts to gain favor with Prince Takahara. Kushihiko internally referred to him as The Control Freak. He was pointing at Kushihiko and whispering something to a newcomer. Kushihiko had a good idea of what he was saying.

That's the prince with the crooked leg.

With even more confidence than before, Prince Takahara tilted his head slightly upwards.

Hey Kushihiko, my brother!

For Kushihiko, Prince Takahara's body language was clear as day. He had barged in recklessly, only to be surprised by the presence of a high-ranking general, but now there was no backing down.

Kushihiko bowed politely, offering a lifeline.

Prince Takahara, I had not expected you would pay me a visit.

Hey, don't be so formal. Call me 'brother'.

Takahara laughed in a low voice, trying to seem important, and offered his hand, which Kushihiko grasped in return.

Come on, Kushihiko, you should shake hands with both hands.

Takahara instructed, prompting laughter from his entourage and flashes from the cameras. Kushihiko feigned amusement.

The General politely excused himself and left quickly. The colonel apologized for any impoliteness and bowed as he departed.

The room suddenly felt cramped. Ishimaro entered for security and stood by Kushihiko’s side.

Everyone was pushing and shoving each other as they stood. In his Air Force uniform, Takahara, surrounded by similarly dressed men and elegantly dressed women, looked more like a parrot in a cage than a noble blue hawk.

Kushihiko, my brother, that was some splendid oratory!

Thank you. Your speech is next, isn’t it, Prince Takahara?

Yes. I wish I could speak as well as you. I regret sleeping through half the oratory class.

You too, huh?

thought Kushihiko.

Any tricks for public speaking?

There are no tricks. It's always a spur-of-the-moment battle for me, Prince Takahara.

In truth, Kushihiko had plenty of tricks, but he played it down, worrying he might come off as arrogant in public.

That’s when he noticed. His brother's entourage was whispering about something. Their gazes were fixed on Emi.

Is this the girl everyone's talking about?

A new face in the entourage whispered to the woman next to her.

Prince Takahara overheard them and smiled knowingly.

That’s Prince Kushihiko’s lover from Africa! The hope of the Kurifu Clan, some weak immigrant family. If she bears a child recognized by the royal family, they’ll join the ranks of powerful noble houses next generation. Our royal clans are all similar, but those who come in later always stand out more!

Prince Takahara was proud of his witty remarks, and his entourage erupted in laughter to flatter him.

Emi, standing slightly behind Kushihiko, gracefully nodded to Takahara and his entourage.

Ishimaro stood quietly by Kushihiko’s side, slightly averting his gaze in front of the nobility.

Stars scattered in his eyes, and his neck grew hot. He consciously maintained a polite smile.

Kushihiko was quietly furious. Yet, in a corner of his mind, he observed his own anger with detached eyes.

Should he take his brother down?

He silently calculated the odds in his mind, pondering his chance of winning.

One usable arm. Legs that can not jump. Zero chance of victory.

He discreetly clenched his glass.