When Shiki entered one of the stack rooms in the Koto Institute, he noticed a familiar figure there, searching for something.
“Gaku?” he called out to him.
It was indeed Gaku Shomei, the vice minister of the financial affairs department.
“Reiko,” Shomei replied.
With his towering build, wiry features, and dignified demeanor, Shomei could easily pass for a military man. While he bore a certain gloominess in his eyes, it was clear from the way he carried himself that he was a man with a good upbringing.
“Are you looking for something?” Reiko asked.
“The Ran record of law…” he explained. “I wanted to check a passage about taxes, so I thought I’d have a look for it. It wasn’t in any of the imperial library’s stack rooms, so I figured it must be here.”
“If it’s that you’re looking for…” Shiki whizzed through the shelves and picked up a scroll.
His eyes wide in amazement, Shomei reverently accepted it. “Thank you very much. I should have known you’d be able to help.”
“No problem at all,” said Shiki, laughing.
Receiving praise from someone as diligent as Shomei made him feel quite embarrassed.
“I’m meeting with somebody later on, so I really appreciate it,” Shomei said. “My family would be furious if I were late.”
“Do you have a brother here in the imperial capital?” Shiki asked.
“Yes—two younger ones. We haven’t gotten together under one roof in a long time, so I thought we could share some celebratory drinks…”
“How wonderful!” exclaimed Shiki.
They must be celebrating their nephew’s investiture as the crown prince, Shiki thought. Just as he was about to ask whether this was the case, he bit his tongue. Gaku Shomei was formerly known by the name Saname Shin and was the eldest son of the Saname family. His new name had been bequeathed to him by Koshun, and he had used it ever since. There was hardly anyone in the imperial court who was aware of his family background, and Shomei didn’t talk about it either. Shiki only knew his true identity because he recognized his face from his time working as the observation vice envoy in Ga Province.
All but the primary members of the imperial court were oblivious to Saname Choyo’s quiet passing—and all the scheming that had led to it.
The Saname family had become difficult to deal with in light of the incident with Choyo. It was hardly surprising that there was no push for Banka to become empress, despite the fact that she had given birth to an heir and had originated from a wealthy family from a province with very few meddling supporters.
“Was it your youngest brother who took over the family?”
“Yes,” answered Shomei. “The older of the two is in Kai Province.”
“Oh, with Yozetsu…”
The Saname family’s second son had been adopted by Yozetsu Jikei and had inherited his salt merchant business. He’d probably married the Yozetsu family girl who’d been working as Jikei’s lady-in-waiting.
At this point, Jikei had retired from his post as salt and iron envoy around five years earlier due to old age—leaving none other but Shiki to take over the role.
“It’s fantastic that the three of you get on so well,” Shiki said, beaming.
Shomei smiled back at him. While the young man’s steadfastness was his most noticeable trait, he also had a certain tenderness to him—perhaps as a result of all the trials and tribulations he’d been through. This tenderness was accompanied by a vague gloom, which—besides his obvious aptitude—was likely one of the aspects of his character that Koshun had been drawn toward. Koshun wasn’t the sort of person to let his personal biases come to the surface, but having spent many years working in close proximity to the emperor, Shiki often had a good idea of what he may have been thinking.
“I hope you enjoy yourselves,” he said.
“Thank you very much,” Shomei replied before bowing and leaving the room.
For Shiki, it was almost impossible to imagine how such a diligent man would act when drinking with his younger brothers.
A little girl who was soon to turn three was playing on the beach, bursting with laughter. Just as Ko had been leaving his home to head to the port, his wife had come out to the gate to see him off, and the two of them had decided to head to the beach together. There, they found their daughter and her wet nurse’s children enjoying a game of tag on the sandy shore. Their daughter’s wet nurse and ladies-in-waiting, along with Jikei, were standing nearby, watching over them.
“Are you still going to make the boat?” Jikei asked. He’d more than settled into his life as a retired grandfather and had a particularly soft spot for his granddaughter.
“I’m heading there now,” Ko answered. “Don’t spoil our daughter too much while we’re gone, all right?” he then warned.
Jikei just laughed.
“All right, all right,” he had said, and left it at that. Ko, however, found his leniency to be a real point of contention.
Having noticed her father, the little girl dashed straight over to Ko, still covered in sand. She hugged him, getting sand and snot all over his traveling attire. His wife wiped their daughter’s nose with a handkerchief. Having initially worked as a lady-in-waiting for Jikei, the idea of her entering the inner palace had been thrown about for a time, but it had never amounted to anything. The notion of her entering the inner palace—and the abandonment of that very idea—both had something to do with the remaining descendant of the previous imperial dynasty, but Ko never pressed her on the topic. She was an intelligent and forthright woman—as was to be expected from someone Jikei had chosen to act as his lady-in-waiting. In all honesty, Ko had liked her from the moment he met her, but he’d never admitted it, not even when Jikei suggested her as a potential wife. That said, he got the feeling that both she and Jikei had worked that one out for themselves.
Ko stroked his daughter’s head. “Make sure to listen carefully to what your mother tells you, okay?” he asked.