The Dragon's Flower Page 27

  “My esteemed student, when he heard of your plans, immediately wrote a letter pledging his aid to your cause and the service of Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress.

  Isao reached out and took the offered leter, then bowed deeply. “I and all the countries extend our thanks to you, Akashi Keiji-sama.”

  “Nonsense, child prince,” The Clever One said, his voice unusually gentle. “I only did as I have been made to do. All I have done is prepared the ground. It is up to you, and your brother and sister, and my student, and the little empress, and all the seven countries, to decide what you will do with it.”

  *****

  It was rare indeed that Manami got an opportunity to leave the monastery.

  She had grown up here from when she was only two years old—in the absence of a caring mother or older brothers to look after her. So she had been placed here, at this remote temple near the border of Nagisa and Masaki, to be raised and educated. If it happened to be not far from the country where her eldest brother had fled, well, it was considered to be a coincidence.

  Isao and Shichiro made it their business to visit her as often as possible, to stave off her loneliness. And she loved the monks dearly, and they were very fond of her as well. Still, she often desired for broader horizons than one edged about by mountains. The only times she left the temple was when she was summoned—and the summoning was always by her birth mother, in order to attend her father upon some sort of formal occasion.

  So Manami had been rather confused when Isao sent a summons to her, instructing her to come and meet him. Still, Isao had asked her, so up she got and went, for after all, Isao was her big brother, and he always had a reason for something. Manami traveled for two weeks into the center of Nagisa, accompanied only by her handmaiden and four monks as bodyguards, and she and Isao met in a little temple by the edge of the river, half a day’s travel away from the city of Ginshi.

  Manami arrived first, shortly before noon, and by the time two hours had gone, her excitement knew no bounds and her patience was severely frayed.

  “Buichi-san! Buichi-san! Do you know when my brother is going to be here?”

  Buichi the monk, who was apparently blessed with the patience of the Heavenly Emperor himself, did not sigh at the reemergence of Manami’s favorite question, as a mere mortal might have. Instead, he simply bowed and responded, “I am afraid, Manami-hime-sama, that the answer to that question is beyond the scope of my abilities.”

  Manami’s brightly excited face fell. “Oh.” Despondently, she sat herself down upon the steps of the temple and propped her cheeks up with her hands. “I hope he comes soon, I haven’t seen him in forever.”

  Buichi privately thought there was no great tragedy in that, for Isao had a habit of … irritating the monks. Sadly, Buichi’s private hopes were not to be realized.

  “Aw, usa-chan, did you miss me?”

  Manami bolted to her feet at the sound of that dearly beloved voice and cried out, “Big Brother Isao!”

  “I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Isao laughed, and Manami beamed up at him happily.

  “Why did you call me here? IS there something important you needed to tell me?” She asked curiously.

  Isao shook his head once and smiled. “No, there’s someone I wanted you to meet.”

  She blinked at him, curious, and he made a sharp gesture with one hand, summoning Ichiro to his side. The shinobi rounded the corner and immediately handed over a large bundle to Isao, who took it and carefully cradled it in his arms. Manami stared at it, her eyes wide.

  “Biggest Brother… is that what I think it is?”

  Isao smiled at her, soft and slightly silly and infinitely warm. “Would you like to come meet your niece, usa-chan?”

  Manami did not need to be asked a second time. The next moment she was standing up on her tiptoes in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the baby. Isao chuckled and obligingly knelt down on the ground, allowing his enraptured baby sister to settle down besides him.

  The scene brought back old memories that hurt and warmed at the same time—memories of a crying baby that no one comforted, and Shichiro and himself uneasily waiting outside a room while their mother ventured in, and of a baby girl and his mother’s voice saying the name ‘Manami’.

  And now Manami was here, twelve years old (check), and he had his own little daughter in his arms. How swiftly time did pass, Isao thought, and smiled as his sister’s eyes fairly shone in excitement.

  Manami leaned over carefully and peered between the layers of cloth at her brother’s daughter. The baby was a small, soft thing, with petal-pink skin and round, rosy cheeks. Her head was crowned with dark brown wisps, and when she blinked her wide eyes open, they were still baby-blue but speckled with brown. Manami thought that the baby would end up with Biggest Brother Isao’s eyes, and she smiled happily at that. Her brother’s eyes were the best eyes in all the world, at least in her opinion.

  “What’s her name?” She asked softly.

  “Princess Hamasaki Yuriko of Nagisa.” Isao responded, pride filling his tone. Manami smiled softly down at the little baby, and reached out hesitant fingers to brush against the fluffy wisps on Yuriko’s head.

  “Yuriko.” She whispered. “It’s a pretty name for a pretty girl, right?”

  Isao grinned even wider. “Exactly! It fits her perfectly! After all, you and Yuriko are the prettiest girls in all the seven countries.” It was only after this that Isao realized the consequences of his baby sister and his baby being the two prettiest girls in all the seven countries. He narrowed his eyes and reflexively clutched his precious burden a tad closer.

  Manami was already nearing marriageable age. Countermeasures needs must be put in place. Plans must be made.

  Isao was suddenly jerked out his daydreams of successfully warding off the slavering horde when Manami asked, “Did you call me to see you just because of Yuriko-chan, or is there something else?”

  Manami looked up at her big brother, and felt a cool chill sweep over her heart. In the space of a second, Isao’s face had gone from happy, proud (and for some mysterious reason, slightly murderous), to world-weary and sad. “Biggest brother…?” She whispered.

  Isao looked up to the monks and said, quietly but firmly, “Leave us.”

  The monks knew better than to disobey the Prince of Nagisa, so one by one they all filed out, leaving Isao and Yuriko alone with Manami. Well, except for Ichiro—Manami was certain he was lurking about somewhere nearby.

  “What is it?” She asked quietly.

  Isao sighed and fixed his gaze on the curious face of his daughter, as if her sweet visage could wash out all the unpleasantness in his thoughts. “I have several bits of news. First, Shichiro was hooked into an arranged marriage.”

  Manami stared at him in shock, but before she could gather the wits for a suitable reply, Isao added, “However, it appears that they were rather happy, and his wife, Princess Hanako, is carrying his child.”

  Manami was even more shocked after this, and a small, scared section of her mind wondered why Isao wasn’t beaming happiliy with what should have been joyous news. “What do you mean, ‘were happy’, Biggest Brother?”

  Isao’s eyes squeezed shut. “Shichiro had to defend his wife from their enemies, and lost his eyes in the progress. He’s off now, wandering the world, because he doesn’t want to be a burden for anyone, or something like that.”

  Manami felt like her heart was shattering and shaking in her chest, but then realized the shaking was spread throughout her whole body. She tried to speak, but she couldn’t get past the lump in her throat, and she lacked the energy to wipe the tears that streamed down her cheeks.

  “There’s more…” Isao said, and one corner of his mouth lifted up in a slight smile. Manami stared at it numbly, wondering what on earth could do anything to add happiness to these tidings.

  “Princess Hanako, Shichiro’s wife, is the long-awaited Heir of the Emperor, and we’re going to make her and Shichiro Empress and
Emperor, and beat up Akiyama and Masaki along the way.”

  At this moment in time, Manami wasn’t sure how many more shocks she could take before her heart gave up the ghost. “Is… is this true?”

  “Yep!” Isao said, and his smile gained strength. “And before we do that, I’m going to go personally to find Shichiro and drag his overly-dramatic behind back home where he belongs, with us. I promise.”

  And with that, Manami felt all the sorrow and numbness shatter and float away, and she beamed back at them. “I know you will! And then Shichiro will be emperor, right?”

  “That’s right.” Isao responded.

  “Good!” Manami said vehemently. “If he’s Emperor, he can’t go on anymore about how he doesn’t belong anywhere. He’ll have a place at last, just like he’s always supposed to have!”

  Isao grinned. “An excellent point, usa-chan. I’d love to see Shichiro try to weasel his way out of that. Even his strange luck can’t beat out the plans of the Heavenly Emperor.”

  They both laughed, and Manami hugged herself, thinking about the happy times that were going to come. She knew they would, she would just have to be patient and wait a little.

  A thought struck her, and she bit her lip thoughtfully, before turning to Isao. “Is there anything I can to do help you and Big Brother Shichiro?”

  Isao dropped his eyes to the side, before nodding. “…I had thought of something, but if you do not wish to—” Manami is so very young, yet, and I had promised mother to protect her. If something happens---

  “I want to do it!” Manami burst out, her eyes wide and bright and shining with determination. “You’re my brothers, and I want to help you! And ‘sides, if it’s the Heavenly Emperor’s plan, it’d be bad if I had a chance to help and didn’t, right?” She added with a winning smile.

  Isao gave her a stink eye. “That’s not exactly how it works, and you know it,” he grumbled under his breath, but sighed at last. “Fine. I’m going to ask our honored Grandmother to send you a message, asking you to keep her company at Konohamiya. While you’re there, I need you to be my messenger.”

  Manami straightened her spine in readiness, holding his gaze with a look she hoped appeared sincere, somber, and capable

  “I refuse to believe that all the nobility and samurai of Masaki are willingly supportive of Shogun Tsuneo’s schemes, and you are going to help me gather them under our cause and organize them against Tsuneo.” HE eyed her, his gaze hard and serious. “Are you certain you want to do this, Manami-hime-dono?”

  The significance of the honorific was not lost on Manami—for once he was addressing her as an equal, not merely his beloved baby sister, and so she obliged with his request. She thought about her decision, but only one answer stood out to her.

  If she did this, she would be helping Isao and Shichiro, who were the first ones to love her, and had always, always been there for her. They had loved her when her birth mother hadn’t even deigned to look upon her when Manami was born. This was a time where she was given a chance to give back, to be there for them when they were in need for once.

  And not only that, if she did this, she would be helping Masaki! The monks had raised her to love her country and its people more than almost anything. By doing this, Manami would be bringing the worth of Masaki to the forefront and helping get rid of the power-hungry and corrupt.

  And last of all, all of this was because of the Heavenly Emperor, an this was Manami’s chance to serve him to the best of her abilities.

  In the end, what other choice was there?

  “Yes, I am certain, Prince Isao-ouji-dono.”

  And Isao looked into Manami’s dark, earnest eyes, saw strength, and he was well pleased and comforted.

  *****

  Lord Saito Kenta looked at the princess in concern. She was whipping her fan back and forth fast enough that he started to think she might summon a windstorm with it. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and she was biting her lip mercilessly.

  “My princess?” He began, cautiously. “Is something amiss?”

  Her eyes shot open—wide and dark and filled with anxiety. “N-no!” She stumbled out. “Nno, nothing’s wrong. Why would you even think that, Kenta-kun? Everything is going to be. Just. Fine!”

  Kenta gave her a flat look. She flinched as if struck and hid her face behind her fan. He felt his lips twist in exasperated but amused affection and he said gently, “My princess, could you care to tell me why you’re so afraid of Father? It’s not like he’s an ogre, you know.”

  “I knowww…” She mumbled from behind her fan. “I’m… I’m worried about me, not your honorable father, Kenta-kun. I promise!”

  Kenta felt his eyebrows lift, but did his best to keep his voice smooth and comforting, even if she did look like an adorable little puppy, hiding its face in order to keep from being spotted.

  “And why are you afraid of yourself, my princess?”

  “W-well, because!” She blustered, and Manami brought her fan down far enough to shoot an unhappy glare at her escort. Lord Kenta just smiled back at her pleasantly, and she quickly flipped the fan up again to hide.

  “Because isn’t a very good answer,” Kenta said patiently, and smiled happily when she gathered her courage enough to snap the fan closed. She turned her head away form him then, but It counted close enough for a victory, as far as Kenta was concerned.

  “Fine.” She huffed, and then all the bluster slipped away from her, leaving her crumpled and small. “I have been… entrusted with this task by someone very special to me. And… and I have never talked to anyone outside of you, and the monks, and like maybe three others, at most. So how am I supposed to go and talk to a Daimyo and convince him to help me? Tell me how, Kenta-kun, please!”

  Kenta titled his head to one side, feeling his lips thin in sympathy. He streeled his shoulders and gathered every scrap of sincerity in his body. “Princess Manami-sama, I’ll tell you how, just like you asked.”

  Her head whipped back to face him, her eyes shining hopefully. “How?”

  “Simple.” He smiled at her and said, “By being yourself.”

  The princess stared at him, betrayal shining in her eyes and making Kenta’s heart twinge. He hurried to explain. “You’re smart and clever, and have a way with people. It’ll be allright. Just be yourself, and trust in the Heavenly Emperor, and you’ll know what to say. Everything will turn out just fine, you’ll see.”

  Manami stared at him, hopefully but still wary. “Besides,” Kenta added, “You were entrusted with this job, because the person who asked you to do it knew you could. He had faith in you, and I do too. You’re our princess Manami-hime-chan, after all!” He grinned. “Are you ready to go in now?”

  Manami looked at him, then at the nerve-wracking door down the hallway, and she nodded.

  *****

  Daimyo Saito Naota was, without a doubt, an impressive man. He had been a great warrior in his youth, but an old injury had caused him to be forced to move around with the use of a cane. However, he still taught students, passing on his skill to the younger generations to the best of his abilities.

  He was tall and lean with an athletic build, and his shoulders were still broad despite his disability. His brown, steadily greying hair was arranged into an aristocratic topknot, and the wrinkles at the corner of his mouth spoke of sternness, but those at the corner of his eyes spoke of kindness.

  “Well,” Daimyo Saito Naota said, “I must say, having a princess of the realm ask my youngest son to arrange for a secret meeting with me is not something I have ever experienced before.”

  Manami bowed and replied, “Saito-dono, I thank you for your indulgence. I was sent here on a rather urgent errand with which I must beseech your most gracious help.”

  “Oh?” the daimyo said calmly. “And what most urgent errand would that be?”

  Manami took a deep, subtle breath, and glanced vore at Kenta, who gave her a reassuring nod. Screwing up her courage, she sai
d softly, “As you may or may not be aware, Masaki and Akiyama have entered into an alliance.” She glanced at the daimyo’s face, but it did not betray the slightest movement. Her nerves building up again in her stomach, she continued, “Don’t you think it odd? My father has always claimed our own strength was enough, and we had no need of help from anyone not of our own. Surely, you must have realized that there was something more, some reason lying underneath the surface.”

  Lord Naota ran a hand over his chin thoughtfully. “I will grant you, my princess, that it does seem… out of character, this alliance. If what you say is true, what is the reason, then?”

  Manami flicked her fan closed and lowered it down to her lap. “Shogun Tsuneo and Princess Katsumi desire to reinstate the Imperial Throne, with a puppet ruler seated upon it.”

  Lord Naota blinked, once, then bent his gaze to meet Manami’s. She stared back at him unflinchingly.

  “How ambitious of them.” The Daimyo said, noncommittedly. “How would such a plan be accomplished?”

  “Why, by placing the Emperor’s Heir upon the throne.” Manami replied.

  “…Are you saying there really is an Emperor’s Heir?” The Daimyo asked.

  Manami nodded.

  “And they are in the hands of Akiyama and Masaki?”

  The princess tilted her head to one side thoughtfully. “Well, she was. But Princess Hanako escaped with the help of my brother Shichiro, and has sought sanctuary with my eldest brother, Prince Hamasaki Isao.”

  The Daimyo and the Princess stared at each other while Kenta watched nervously in the background. Manami had told him of her plans, and Kenta believed in his father, but it was definitely uncomfortable, watching two people he cared about duel each other in the subtle art of words.

  At last, Daimyo Saito Naota spoke. “What was your purpose in approaching me, Princess Manami-sama?”

  Manami took in a slow, shuddering breath and gathered her senses. “My eldest brother, Prince Isao, asked me to come here, under the guise of attending my Honored Grandmother, the Dowager Princess Kazuka. My actual duty here is to gather support amongst the nobility of Masaki.” She straightened her shoulders and stared deeply into the Daimyo’s eyes. He stared cooly back, his eyes blank and void of expression.