Chapter 29: Chapter 29: The Golden Throne, The Sleepy Warlord, and The Etiquette Lesson

[The Imperial Capital]

The throne room of the Grand Imperial Palace was utterly, terrifyingly silent.

It was a massive hall of polished cedar and blinding gold leaf, decorated with sweeping banners of the sun crest. Usually, the room was filled with the whispers of a hundred scheming nobles.

Today, it was empty, save for three people.

Crown Prince Ryu knelt on the hard wooden floor at the base of the throne. He was shaking violently. His expensive silk robes were torn and stained with soot. His right arm, heavily bandaged from where the black iron chains of the Forbidden Edict had eaten his flesh, was held tightly against his chest in a sling.

Standing a few paces away, leaning casually against a painted pillar, was Second Prince Jin. He looked perfectly pristine in his pale green robes, though a fresh, ugly bruise bloomed along his jawline from where Kitsune’s iron fan had struck his assassin. Jin’s fox-like smile was completely gone, replaced by a dark, simmering rage.

And sitting on the Chrysanthemum Throne, looking down at his sons with eyes as cold as a frozen lake, was Emperor Shirakawa.

"Explain to me," the Emperor’s voice was soft, smooth, and absolutely lethal. It echoed through the empty hall. "How a stealth retrieval mission ended with a shattered ice moat, the loss of an entire Imperial Mage battalion, and a Forbidden Edict being unleashed like a child’s firecracker."

Ryu flinched so hard his forehead hit the floorboards.

"F-Father," Ryu stuttered, his voice cracking wildly. He didn’t dare look up. "Jin’s assassins failed! The beast was trapped, but he couldn’t retrieve it! I... I was only trying to correct his mistake! I brought the mages to crush the Warlord!"

Jin scoffed loudly from the pillar. "You brought a parade to a stealth mission, you absolute fool. Akira saw your silver banners from three miles away. You completely compromised my portal."

"Silence, both of you," the Emperor commanded.

Neither prince dared to breathe.

Emperor Shirakawa slowly stood up. He walked down the golden steps, his heavy white and gold robes sweeping across the floor. He stopped right in front of the trembling Crown Prince.

"You unleashed a Forbidden Edict," the Emperor said coldly. "A magic so dark and unstable we swore to the gods we would never use it unless the capital itself was falling. And you wasted it on a border skirmish. Because your pride was bruised by a half-breed demon and a nineteen-year-old commoner."

"Father, please," Ryu begged, tears finally spilling down his pale cheeks. "The Demon Prince is a monster! He broke the bone giant with a single strike! We cannot defeat him in the North! He is too strong!"

The Emperor looked down at his crying son in absolute disgust.

He didn’t yell. He didn’t strike him. That was what made Emperor Shirakawa so terrifying.

"You are correct about one thing, Ryu," the Emperor murmured, turning his back on the Crown Prince and slowly walking toward the tall, paper-screened windows overlooking the capital. "The wolf is too strong inside his own den. His fortress is impenetrable. His magic is fed by the northern ice."

The Emperor clasped his hands behind his back, staring out at the sprawling, glittering city.

A slow, calculating smile crept across his aged face. It was the smile of a spider watching a fly land directly in the center of its web.

"Brute force is the weapon of a barbarian," the Emperor whispered to himself. "If you want to skin a wolf, you do not march into his cave. You lay a trap of meat, and you invite him to step out into the clearing."

He turned back to the room.

"Jin," the Emperor ordered. "Summon the Grand Chancellor and the Imperial Scribes. Immediately."

Jin straightened up, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What are you planning, Father? A second strike?"

"I am drafting a decree," the Emperor smiled, a cold, terrifying expression that made even Jin take a step back. "The North has played its hand. Now, we change the rules of the board. Prepare the royal couriers. I have a gift to send my dear nephew."

[Kitune’s POV]

I woke up entirely tangled in a Warlord.

The heavy, dark curtains of our bedchamber were drawn shut, keeping the room wrapped in a cozy, dim twilight. The charcoal brazier was pulsing with a soft, warm orange glow.

I blinked my eyes open.

Akira was asleep. Like, actually, completely, deeply asleep.

He was lying on his side, his massive frame taking up more than half the futon. One of his heavy arms was thrown securely across my waist, pinning me gently against his chest. His breathing was slow and even, a deep rumble that vibrated right against my back.

Usually, even when he rested, there was a tension in his shoulders. A hyper-awareness that never fully switched off.

But this morning, the Warlord aura was completely gone. His face was entirely relaxed, the harsh, commanding lines of his jaw softened by sleep. A few strands of his messy pink hair had fallen across his nose.

He looked so peaceful it made my chest physically ache.

I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay in this warm, safe bubble forever. But I knew his spirit core needed time to heal after destroying the bone giant, and my stomach was currently growling loud enough to wake the dead.

Carefully, holding my breath, I reached down and gently lifted his heavy arm off my waist.

Akira grumbled softly in his sleep, his brow furrowing as he lost his favorite pillow. I quickly slid a bunched-up snow-fox blanket against his chest to replace me. He instantly wrapped his arm around the fur, burying his face in the pillow with a quiet sigh, and went perfectly still again.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to stop a giggle. The terrifying Demon Prince of the North cuddled in his sleep.

I quietly slipped out of the futon, pulling on a thick, dark blue wool tunic and warm trousers. I tied my sash, grabbed my heavy iron Tessen, and slid the bedroom door open just enough to slip out without making a sound.

The fortress was already bustling. Northern guards offered me deep, respectful bows as I walked down the stone corridors, their faces bright and cheerful despite the massive battle the night before. We had won. The mood was electric.

I followed the smell of roasted rice and hot broth toward the smaller, private dining room near the kitchens.

Before I even reached the door, I could hear the yelling.

"You are holding the chopsticks like a barbarian holding a pitchfork!" Yuki’s shrill, pre-teen voice echoed down the hall.

"They’re just sticks! Food goes on stick, stick goes in mouth!" Rin argued back.

I peaked around the doorframe.

Rin was sitting at the low wooden table, happily devouring a bowl of thick vegetable stew.

Sitting across from her, wearing an impossibly elaborate, completely impractical light blue silk kimono, was Yuki. The twelve-year-old cat-boy had his fluffy white ears pinned back in pure exasperation.

"There is an art to dining, you feral human sprout!" Yuki groaned, dramatically pinching the bridge of his nose. "I am a sacred deity! I have dined with Emperors and high nobles! You must hold the chopsticks with elegance. You don’t just stab the potato!"

"Stabbing the potato is faster," Rin pointed out logically, completely ignoring him and shoving a massive piece of carrot into her mouth.

"I am going to have an aneurysm," Yuki sighed heavily, crossing his small arms. "Lady Kitsune, please tell your sister that she is embarrassing my divine presence."

I walked into the room, grabbing a hot steamed bun from a tray near the door.

"Good morning to you too, Yuki," I smiled, sitting down next to Rin. "Are we hosting a high-society tea party that I didn’t know about? Because I’m pretty sure we just fought an army of mud-demons last night."

"Exactly!" Yuki pointed a very serious finger at me. "We are victorious! Which means we must maintain our dignity! If the capital spies see us eating like wild boars, they will think we are uncivilized!"

"I think the capital spies are currently running for their lives through a blizzard," I laughed, taking a bite of my bun.

"Don’t encourage her," Yuki huffed, his twin white tails swishing angrily behind him. He reached for a piece of perfectly sliced salmon on his plate. "I am simply trying to elevate the cultural standard of this frozen wasteland. Someone has to teach her manners before she accidentally insults a visiting warlord and starts a war."

Rin swallowed her stew. She looked at Yuki, then looked at his plate.

Before the ancient spirit could even blink, Rin reached across the table with her chopsticks, flawlessly plucked the premium slice of salmon right off Yuki’s plate, and popped it into her mouth.

Yuki froze. His jaw literally unhinged.

"You..." Yuki whispered, staring at his empty plate in absolute, horrified shock. "You stole my fish."

"I used the chopsticks properly," Rin smiled innocently, chewing the salmon. "Very elegant."

"I AM GOING TO THROW YOU IN THE MOAT!" Yuki shrieked, leaping up from his cushion.

I burst out laughing, grabbing Rin’s chair and pulling her back before the furious cat-boy could lunge across the table. Rin was giggling so hard she almost choked on her stew.

"Alright, alright, calm down, both of you," I wheezed, wiping a tear from my eye. I pushed a new plate of fish toward Yuki. "Here, eat your breakfast before you burn the kitchen down."

Yuki aggressively sat back down, smoothing out his ridiculous silk sleeves and grumbling under his breath about the absolute disrespect of modern youth.

"The child is a menace," a deep, husky voice rumbled from the doorway.

I spun around.

Akira was leaning against the wooden doorframe. He was awake, wearing loose black training robes. His pink hair was still messy from sleep, and his amber eyes were soft and incredibly warm as he watched us.

"Akira!" Rin cheered, waving her chopsticks. "I stole the cat’s fish!"

"I saw," Akira’s lips twitched into a genuine, relaxed smile. He walked into the room, completely ignoring Yuki’s outraged squawk, and stopped right behind me.

He didn’t sit down. He just rested his large, warm hand on my shoulder, his thumb gently stroking the curve of my neck. It was such a casual, domestic touch that my heart did a ridiculous flip.

"You let me sleep," Akira murmured, leaning down slightly so only I could hear.

"You needed it," I whispered back, leaning back against his hand. "You look better."

"I feel better," he agreed. He stood up straight, looking at the two kids bickering over the remaining food.

For a moment, the Kurogane Fortress was completely at peace. The Warlord was resting. My sister was laughing. Even the annoying cat-boy was safe. It felt like a perfectly normal, chaotic family breakfast.

But as I looked out the frosted window toward the southern mountain pass, the cold knot of dread returned to my stomach.

The Emperor was too quiet.