As soon as Gomei craned forward, Genyou cut him off. “I respectfully ask that you take your leave.” He pointed to the dungeon’s entrance, then coolly added, “I thank you for advocating for my release. However, I would be even more grateful if you left me alone from now on.”
Gomei fell silent. For a while, he fixed the youngest prince with a conflicted look, until he eventually shrugged and huffed a small sigh. “Have it your way.” He rose to his feet, brushed off his robes, and turned on his heel. “I wish you the best.”
His unceremonious retreat left Genyou feeling let down, then vindicated. He’d had this man pegged. The crown prince would offer anyone a helping hand, and yet—no, for that very reason—he would never chase after those who left.
If he was so easily put off, Genyou wished he would have just stayed away in the first place.
Two more years passed, and Genyou turned fourteen. As the days and months crawled by, Genyou managed to stay the course as the Woodwork Prince, but the world around him began to change. For a start, the other princes’ bullying and machinations had come to a complete halt. Part of this could be attributed to the harsh punishment the fourth prince had suffered for framing Genyou, but a simpler reason was that most of his half brothers had turned fifteen and moved to personal residences in the capital. Discounting the crown prince, the only princes left in the inner court were the youngest, Genyou, and the ninth prince, who was one year his elder.
Another change was that Gomei had ceased to hang around Genyou. Perhaps that uncompromising rejection was weighing on his mind, or perhaps he was simply too busy to trouble himself. In addition to his duties as crown prince, rumor had it that he was finally drawing up a list of candidates for a new Maiden Court.
In contrast to Gomei and the bright path he walked, Genyou’s position grew more tenuous by the day. The ninth prince had secured his place as the empress’s darling, and she had bestowed a new name upon him just the other day: Shiyuu, written with the characters for “a valiant arrow.” Her thought process was clear: She did not want her adopted son to be the immovable string of the ceremonial bow aimed at the throne but rather to become the arrow itself.
On that note, the final change was that the empress had stopped paying Genyou any attention whatsoever. Souen was fixated solely on Shiyuu, and she had ordered Genyou to move to a private residence before even coming of age.
As far as the boy himself was concerned, this was a welcome development. Genyou went about his preparations to leave the inner court with a rare smile upon his lips. Once he passed through that gate, he would be free to play the flute—even sing—to his heart’s content.
Unfortunately, on that blue moon night when Genyou attempted to depart the inner court, disaster struck. Several men dragged him out of his carriage and surrounded him. After ordering the armed men to hang back, the mastermind sauntered into the center of their circle, revealing himself to be the ninth prince, Shiyuu, the same one who had ousted Genyou.
“I was afraid you might be lonely with no one to see you off, so I put a group together to bid you farewell, dear brother.”
Given the assembled faces and circumstances, it was obvious that this wasn’t an ordinary send-off.
When Genyou frowned and adopted a defensive stance, Shiyuu quirked an eyebrow. “Aha, I knew it. If you were true to your name as the Woodwork Prince, you wouldn’t brace yourself like that. You have enough smarts to understand when you’re in danger, no?”
While everyone else looked down on Genyou, only the boy who had grown up in the Gen Palace alongside him had remained on his guard.
Shiyuu narrowed his eyes with a foreboding smile. “I also highly doubt you’re incapable of speech. It’s not uncommon to hear of princes posing as harmless during their time in the treacherous inner court, only to spill all sorts of secrets once they’ve moved elsewhere. Best to nip that in the bud.”
His plan was to kill Genyou the instant he stepped outside the gate. As soon as Genyou realized as much, he swiftly doubled back to the inner court. His mother outranked the ninth prince, so he would be safe once he took refuge in the Palace of the Darkest Edge.
Or so he thought.
“For the record, Her Majesty already knows what’s happening here!” Shiyuu called out from behind him. “That’s precisely why she instructed me to take you out close to the inner court, where her influence can still reach. You’ve outlived your usefulness, my talentless Woodwork Prince.”
Genyou stopped in his tracks.
Mother’s cutting me off.
He was surprised at himself for feeling even the tiniest bit of shock. He should have known, considering this was his mother’s typical way of doing things. It was because he knew how ruthless she could be that he had set himself up to be cast aside.
What defied his expectations was that as soon as she’d decided she was done with him, she had chosen to come for his life rather than sending him away. It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise, though. He had been far too optimistic.
“Oh, but do rest at ease. I may have taken your place as the son on the path to the throne, but I shall generously grant you a new role in exchange: the mastermind behind Crown Prince Gomei’s attempted assassination! Quite the pivotal part, hm?”