The thought had just come to him when he was in the boat. If he wanted to secure the Saname clan’s safety, then staying as far away from central government as possible could have been the cleverest option.
“I see,” said Choyo, sounding fairly detached from the whole thing. “That wasn’t really what I was thinking. I just thought that it’d work out in our clan’s favor. But…”
Choyo let out a puff of laughter. “Now I can see what an error of judgment that was. I’m the one who’s causing the Saname clan’s downfall.”
The smile on his father’s face sent a trickle of cold sweat down Shin’s spine.
“Father… Was that your true intention? Did you want to destroy this clan?”
Choyo wiped the grin off his face. He blinked, then silently rose to his feet.
“Fa—”
“Go to the imperial capital,” Choyo said, cutting him off. “You have to report back to His Majesty, don’t you? Your business here is done.”
The man’s tone of voice made it clear he wasn’t going to accept any ifs or buts. He headed over to the room next door—his own, private room.
“…Understood,” said Shin. “Goodbye, then.”
Shin watched his father walk away, then stood up himself. He left the hall, and then put the Saname clan residence behind him. He hurried down the road that led to the port, not looking over his shoulder once.
Choyo stepped into his room, took a small box out of his cabinet, and sat it down on the table. It was a black, lacquer-coated box with no decorations of any kind on it. He lifted the lid to reveal several different-sized ceramic containers. He picked one of them up and put it in his breast pocket.
He then left the hall and headed for the kitchen. He called out to his manservants who were busily working away and lit a candle on the stove. Choyo left through the rear of the residence and began making his way toward the mulberry forest in the back part of the property. It was in this forest that the detached house where Yo had stayed until she gave birth to Shin was located. No one lived there anymore, but it was still kept in good condition, and was just as clean as it had been at the time.
Choyo went through the gate, cut through the courtyard, and went to the hall of the residence. It was similar in structure to the main house, but there were fewer rooms here, and it was more gaudily decorated. He stepped on the flower-patterned tiles and looked up at the painted ceiling—there were flowers there too. Yo had been fond of them. When spring arrived in Ga Province, the fields and mountains would be covered in a riotous profusion of flowers, and going to pick them was her favorite thing to do. Choyo would always accompany her and watch her as she gathered them.
Holding the candle, he slowly looked around the room. It almost felt as if Yo’s floral scent was still lingering in the air.
She’d been a priceless, beautiful treasure—more valuable than anything else he’d ever come across.
If only that Raven Consort had been around…
If Jusetsu had been around when he and Yo were still young, would she have destroyed that ominous divine treasure? Would Yo still have been alive today?
He knew it was pointless, but he couldn’t help but dream. And that was the precise reason he hated her so much.
Choyo let out a slight laugh, then stood up. He tilted his candle to one side, bringing the flame closer to the curtain. It quickly caught fire. The flames crept across the fabric, destroying it as they went. Choyo watched the curtain burn, then left the room. He did the same thing in the next room, and the room next to that one. When he eventually reached the bedroom, he sat down on the bed. The bedding was all still in place, just like it had been all those years ago. Choyo put his candlestick down and stroked the floral embroidery.
He could hear the fire raging on elsewhere in the building, and the smell of burning wood hurtled through the air. The smoke was beginning to spread throughout the house—and the flames were making quick work of it too.
Choyo took the container out of his pocket and opened the lid. Inside was a pill that resembled a black seed. This was that same poisonous drug the Saname clan had brought across to Sho when they’d arrived from Kakami.
When the emperor had ordered him to retire and go into house arrest, he’d been effectively suggesting that he end his life.
The emperor had likely gotten Shin to pass on the command so that Choyo would have little choice but to accept it. He’d assumed that Choyo would oblige if it meant protecting Shin from harm. This gave Choyo a sense of how hardheaded Koshun truly was at his core. It was a trait Choyo respected in him, but that didn’t make it any easier.
The smoke began to rise. Choyo set the mattress alight. The flowery embroidery caught flame and continued to burn. What were these flowers called again? Choyo wondered to himself. What was the name of the flowers on the ceiling, and the flowers on the tiles…?
“Yo.”
Choyo softly called out his younger sister’s name, then placed the poison pill in his mouth.
Shortly thereafter, the flames engulfed the bed.
Once Shin reached the port, he looked back in the direction of the Saname residence. This’ll probably be the last time I ever see it, he thought to himself.
He could see a single wisp of smoke rising up from the hill at the back of the property—but the faint trail soon dissolved into the expanse of the sky, fluttering like a shawl cascading gracefully from somebody’s shoulders as they turned away and left.