“I swear to do all that I can in service to this kingdom, to lead it well and to guide it in prosperity. I will follow late Queen Okimi’s path—strive for peace for as long as I am able, and fight for it should the need arise. Kyōryokuna Bekin…guide me, please; show me the way towards peace, and I will never once complain.”
He bowed to the gods he was raised to believe were there, and when he stood the small group of nobles bowed to him, including Erize to his right. Utaka worried the respect wasn’t genuine; the only people there were the ones who had known him as a child, fully aware that he was one of the youngest kings in Gin’s history. He would be nineteen on his next birthday.
Considering that no one spoke a word otherwise, Utaka was forced to assume there hadn’t been any complications—ever since Queen Tsujihara Seiko’s time, no one was completely assured that they would gain silver hair. Perhaps that humility and fear was what kept it from disappearing in the four hundred years since.
“…That’s all for now,” Utaka said to the crowd. “For those of you who are associated with the governing part of this role I…would like some time to let it sink in.”
No one protested, and all of them left—some to spread the news, others to undoubtedly make his job harder. Utaka left without any further commands, gesturing for Erize—his wife of only a few weeks, the only good thing that’s happened recently—to stay close. He would be fine as long as she was there.
They both wandered out to the courtyard, going into the small replication of the garden in town—complete with said garden’s small gate as a silent request for privacy. Once they were there, it was silent; they weren’t bothered by the outside here.
“…It will get better from here,” Erize said quietly.
“Will it?” Utaka asked, glancing at her. “I’m the damn king. I fear that I won’t have a thought to myself—let alone any time with you.”
“We’ll be fine,” Erize maintained. There was something in the way she said it that made him sure she was telling the truth—that the promise wouldn’t be broken. “Miss Okimi’s death was…unfortunate—but you’ll be a great king.”
“Gods, I’ve barely even had time to process she’s dead.”
“Things will slow down after a while,” Erize said. She sat down next to him, putting her head on his shoulder. “Then everything will fall into place. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but by your side during all of this.”
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“Only you could want to do paperwork all day,” Utaka replied, managing a little chuckle.
Erize let out her own little laugh. “Maybe so,” she said, “But someone has to keep you in line and make sure nothing bad happens.”
Silence fell again, only slightly better than the one that came before it. It gave Utaka some time to just…reflect.
Before Utaka got married, Okimi wasn’t exactly in the best of health—some illness or another caught her. She worked through it, of course—Gin’s royal family wasn’t anything if not stubborn—and she was only barely able to attend the wedding. Not very long after the wedding, Okimi died; one of the guards found her body in the courtyard. She had a knife with her and, judging by the collection of notes she left behind, was prepared to follow Tsujihara Seiko’s example. Just like the first queen, however, the evidence and the decided cause of death didn’t match up.
What bothered Utaka the most was that Okimi must have been desperate if she wanted to end her own life. It made him wonder if his family truly was ‘cursed’ in some way or another, that a strong person like Okimi would break down amidst whatever was ailing her. She never told Utaka anything, either, making it more frustrating; even the doctors knew she didn’t give the full truth.
There was a voice outside of the small area, bringing his thoughts back to the present; someone Utaka couldn’t see, but he could recognize the voice.
“Sorry to interrupt or intrude, but some Hiroki boys are here.”
“All right,” Utaka replied, sighing a bit. Erize stood up, and he followed. “Thank you, Takeo.”
The man chuckled. “I’m just relaying messages, boy. Nothing more.”
Fujita Takeo was something close to a father figure for Utaka—or the closest thing he ever had to a father figure, at least. If he had to assign the man any familial relation, however, it would be that of an uncle; Takeo was one of Okimi’s closer friends, and knew Utaka’s father as well. He already agreed to be something like an advisor to the young king, having been helping Okimi in that role for a while.
Utaka and Erize both left the small replica garden, and went to meet with the Hiroki men. Of course, then came the kingly duties Utaka was expected to handle—being a military family and living in one of the few places that were near the river-border with Kuro, the Hiroki men naturally came mostly to discuss everything relating to it. Condolences and praises were the least of their concerns.
However dull it was for Utaka, Erize was more than happy to listen in and provide input. They already agreed that they would work together in this—if Gin ever had to fight, Erize would be left here to handle everything in Utaka’s stead. She wanted to help him with the work now, so she wouldn’t be at a disadvantage if Utaka and Takeo both left.
Unfortunately, things didn’t slow back down again for another month; Utaka was always needed for one thing or another. He wasn’t particularly fond of the work—the amount of it nor the nature of it—but it couldn’t be helped. He just asked for the gods’ guidance and hoped that would be enough to get him through it.