When Genyou attempted to ride out the conversation in silence, the fourth prince grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to a well deep inside the inner court. There, the bully’s little brother—the Kin-hailing sixth prince—and a few of his other friends among the princes were awaiting their arrival with wicked grins. It was clear as day what was about to happen: They were going to rough Genyou up.
I know what this is about, Genyou thought in a daze as the group held him down. We had a test on the scriptures today.
Earlier that day, the princes had taken their monthly quiz during their lessons. It had been pretty standard fare—they were asked to discuss current political issues with citations from the Five Classics—but the results were always reported back to their mothers. Those who hadn’t scored well were probably in a bad mood. As proof, the only ones present were the friends of the fourth prince. Gomei, whose status as crown prince granted him a special education, and the ninth prince, who had excellent grades, were nowhere to be seen.
“My fists have received the shaman’s blessing. A hit from these can reform even the most heinous of criminals. Why don’t I land a few blows to your gut and imbue you with a little virtue?”
“On that note, my legs have a special power of their own! A kick from one of these could tame a bucking horse in no time. Here, allow me to demonstrate.”
“Ha ha ha! Go ahead and mount him like one!”
The princes burst into laughter. From the sound of it, today’s game of choice would be horsey rides.
Hitting Genyou in the face would lead to a scandal. None of these boys were dumb enough to risk that, so they preferred to focus on wounding his pride. For instance, they might hurt him in places that would be hidden by his clothes or force him to his knees and straddle him.
If Mother ever found out, they would be as good as dead.
Genyou’s thoughts turned to the second prince, whom he hadn’t seen much of recently. A few days after calling Genyou “the Woodwork Prince” in the empress’s presence, he had contracted a fever of unknown origin. None of the other clans had drawn the connection between the insult and his fever, but Genyou had witnessed his mother threatening a washerwoman into planting a poisoned needle in the second prince’s robes.
I’m so tired of it all.
He was tired of his mother flying into a rage for such petty reasons. He was sick of how she would take her entirely self-motivated revenge, then twist that into another way to control him, insisting, “I did this for your own good, so do as I tell you.” It was all such a hassle. He would much rather let his bullies get a few hits in and then pretend to pass out.
As he stared vacantly at his assailant’s raised fist, a cheerful voice rang out, “Whoops! My hand slipped!” A brush hurtled through the air, striking the fourth prince on the back of the hand.
“Ow!”
“Ha ha, sorry about that! Looks like I got ink all over your prized embroidery.” A young man came up from behind, grabbed the fourth prince’s arm, and raised it in the air. “I’ll have the Palace of the Golden Qilin send a formal gift of apology.”
The grinning man was none other than Crown Prince Gomei, who was supposed to be busy with his private lessons. At sixteen years of age, he was a whole head taller than the rest of the princes. His purple robe, a color only the crown prince was allowed to wear, lent him a regal and imposing air.
As soon as he arrived on the scene, the other princes lost their nerve and slowly backed away.
“It’s a surprise to see you here, Your Highness,” one said. “I thought you were still in the middle of your private classes.”
Gomei shrugged. “Ha ha! Actually, my instructor ran off on me. Said he has nothing to teach a rascal like me and threw in the towel.”
So he claimed, but he was infamous for rapidly outpacing the knowledge of the adults around him and driving his humbled instructors to resign.
“That left me with a lot of time on my hands, so I figured I might as well get some exercise.” His friendly, droopy eyes sharpened as they settled on the princes. “Would you care to join me for a match, my dear little brothers?”
“Eep!”
Prince Gomei was a master of the pen and the sword. Much like he could talk circles around his instructors with his silver tongue, he could instantly trounce any opponent in a fight. In fact, he might have been an even better warrior than a speaker. It wasn’t too long ago that he had seen his first battle, and the general consensus was that his performance had rivaled that of a seasoned warlord.
“I-I’m afraid I have schoolwork to complete, so you will have to excuse me…”
“A-as do I.”
Hopelessly intimidated, the princes mumbled a few excuses before running off. Only Gomei and the kneeling Genyou were left behind.
“Can you stand?” Gomei held out a hand without hesitation, which Genyou ignored as he rose to his feet. The younger prince then attempted to act the part of a dunce with no manners and stalk off, but Gomei called out to him from behind, “Here’s some advice. If you want people to believe you’re a talentless mediocrity, you should put a little more effort into your facade.”
Genyou stopped in his tracks. When he turned around, he saw that Gomei had picked his brush up off the ground and was flipping its bristles back and forth.