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“At this time there is only one person with the right to use that name,” Gaoshun continued. “His Majesty himself. I don’t think you know your place. I might even say you’ve arrogated to yourself what belongs to heaven—a serious crime.”
Gaoshun was a particularly mellow man even among the members of the Ma clan. To see him moved to do what he was doing spoke to just how far Hao had overstepped. To speak Zuigetsu’s name aloud was as good as to assert that he held a position equal to the Emperor’s.
Hao’s guards didn’t move—they couldn’t. Gaoshun would lop off Hao’s head before they could stop him. For that matter, the guards would probably end up dead as well—Gaoshun was just that good a swordsman.
Even back when Gyouyoh and Ah-Duo had wrestled with him two against one, they had never stood a chance.
It crossed Gyouyoh’s mind that it might be nice to simply let Hao lose his head here and now. It would certainly be a load off his mind. But the cleanup would be such a headache. Not just the actual cleanup of the mess in the room—Gyouyoh wanted to avoid weakening Anshi’s family by eliminating Hao. Without the Shi clan, the balance of power at court was skewed. It wouldn’t be a good idea to reduce the number of factions ever further.
Gyouyoh raised his hand, and Gaoshun lowered his sword.
Hao glared at Gaoshun, his face absolutely pale. “What right do you have to assault me in this manner?!” he exclaimed, spittle flying from his mouth.
“None. I have no status,” Gaoshun replied, and it was true. Members of the Ma clan were never given official positions, and Gaoshun was no exception. “However, I am the sword of the Emperor. And I simply did what the Emperor’s sword ought.”
“He’s right. No one said you could call Zuigetsu by his name. Only I may speak that name,” Gyouyoh said. Hao bit his lip. He was Gyouyoh’s maternal relative—but not a member of the Imperial family, and it was forbidden to speak the names of the highest members of royalty.
For better or worse, Hao was a man who knew his limits. He had his sprinkling of ambition and his helping of foolishness, but no more.
If he had also been a man of exceptional talents, that might have been a problem. It would have made him hard to handle. But the occasional act of idiocy on his part gave an opportunity to tug the reins and remind him who was the master. He would cling to his position as the Emperor’s relative, but he had no thoughts of taking over. He lacked the backbone to dream of putting the crown on his own head.
“Let me ask you a question,” Gyouyoh said. “Do you think it advisable for you to stay here any longer after that display?”
There was a beat, and then Hao answered, “My abject apologies, sire.” His attitude had completely turned around. “I will visit you again, in all humility.”
With that, he left.
Once his footsteps had completely vanished, Gyouyoh rubbed his stomach.
“Does it hurt, sir?” Gaoshun asked.
“Yes... And it got worse just now.”
The piece of pork he had eaten was coming back up, along with stomach acid.
“What do you suppose Master Hao is thinking?” asked Gaoshun.
“Oh, I should think it’s obvious. He wants me to restore Zui as crown prince.”
“I see, sir.” All the sharpness had left Gaoshun’s gaze, and his voice was once more like it always was. “But you have no interest in doing so, do you?”
Gyouyoh paused, then said, “Mm.” He set down his cup of wine, not clearly saying either yes or no.