Just like that, it was suddenly winter. Half a year passed since they were forced to retreat back to Hiroki’s fort, and she hated it. She didn’t want to involve Sólstaður in Gin’s own defense, but Roken still insisted; it was help Gin repel Kuro, or the third party ends the war by fighting Kuro regardless. She couldn’t imagine either one winning her more favor.
Roken had come specifically to convince her to let him bring in more soldiers—Kuro took back and reinforced their ports, as well as took control of Gin’s northern sea right until the mountains; Sólstaður’s ships could probably get through them, but with some trouble. She was willing to accept the extra few days it took for them to arrive if it meant more of them would come.
Sorai was with the boys, testing if Rei could handle being put a little closer to his parents; when Roken left, then, Kyoumi was alone to do her work. She couldn’t quite tell if the silence—a rarity these days, but so common when she was younger—reassured or unnerved her.
She didn’t have an incredibly long time to ponder it, considering someone knocked on the door to the tactics room.
“Tsujihara Isei. I’m told the queen is here.”
Isei…the current head of the Tsujihara family. Him and Kyoumi had maintained something similar to letter correspondence, making sure her decisions were actually heard and carried through.
“I’m here,” Kyoumi said. “You may enter.”
Tsujihara opened the door, but only took a step outside. He took a quick glance around. “Fujita Sorai isn’t here?”
“He’s with the princes,” Kyoumi explained.
“I’ll be honest, I didn’t think you were capable of doing desk work by yourself.”
Kyoumi frowned slightly. “And I was hoping you wouldn’t sound as disdainful as your parents.”
He gave a delayed bow, seeming a bit indifferent. “It gets a little dull carrying out orders in your place. Convincing them to listen is a bit difficult as well.”
In the brief silence, she rearranged a few papers and offered him a seat. Tsujihara, however, remained standing; Kyoumi ultimately had to lead the conversation.
“Have you sent out my latest request?” Kyoumi asked. She tried—perhaps in vain—to replicate the kind of tone and presence Utaka once had. Sometimes she felt like Erize commanded more respect than Kyoumi did now.
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Tsujihara didn’t mention it if he noticed, only nodding. “We’ve asked every town and village on this side of the mountains to go east. My family is currently making the necessary preparations to temporarily make the capital in Tsujihara territory.”
Kyoumi nodded. “Good. If they’re not fighting, they might as well go somewhere safer so they aren’t forced to fight.”
“Just keep in mind,” Tsujihara said, frowning, “That this isn’t as good of an idea as you think it is. Only about half of them will listen to you—maybe half of that might change their minds if they’re attacked, but I don’t expect the southern towns to do anything.”
“I’m aware,” Kyoumi replied firmly. “But if that’s all—”
“I would like to warn you.” Although she didn’t appreciate being cut short, she nonetheless nodded so he could continue. “Some people are beginning to think that the Tsujihara family is like you—your actions now, in the past, in the future, they’re turning against you and us.”
“This is nothing new,” Kyoumi pointed out calmly, even if she didn’t enjoy hearing it. “I’m doing my best to make sure Rei—and Taiyo, if necessary—could be seen in a better light. They’re already older than I was, at least, and I don’t intend to die for another few years if I can help it.”
Tsujihara sighed, continuing on with some disdain. “Just a change of leadership won’t help—any child of yours that takes the throne will be seen just as you are now. The only way I can imagine people accepting you is if you win the war.”
“I can’t control the exact outcome,” Kyoumi reasoned. “I can try my best, but whether we win or lose this conflict is not my responsibility alone.”
He chuckled grimly. “Do you think they care? You’re the queen—with Ginshin’s apparent approval, many believe you should be capable of most anything. Compared to Queen Okimi and your father, you’re still a child. Sure, it’s not your fault that you had to rely on others; it would have been worse if you tried to do it on your own. All the people see, however, is every family but the correct line leading the kingdom; it doesn’t help that the Fujita family isn’t exactly popular, either.”
Kyoumi couldn’t respond without repeating what she’s already said—there was nothing she could say to win this argument, so it wasn’t worth the effort to try. Tsujihara seemed to take her silence as an answer on its own.
“Let me just say,” Tsujihara said, a bit quieter so anyone walking past couldn’t hear, “That the First Queen’s War was named such because the first queen fought in it. If Gin fails to win—if this war ends in a loss, or even a draw—the meaning will have to change; it would become the first war of a queen. Considering the circumstances—Okimi’s death, Utaka’s murder, your younger son’s earlier disappearance—we all have reason to believe that Tsuyoi Aimiki may have abandoned us. If she has, and no one can hear her as Tsujihara Seiko did, then Gin can slip out of the royal family’s hands.”
She considered it for a moment, then gave her answer firmly. “If I should be the last queen—the last ruler, even—then so be it. This nation has lived for nearly five thousand years; I will still try, of course, to maintain good relations if possible, but I will not stand against the gods if they see fit to end this nation’s history.”
“Pessimistic, I see. But I understand.” He bowed, for once speaking respectfully. “I’ll take my leave now, Queen Kyoumi. Good luck to you in your battles.”
“Safe travels back home,” Kyoumi replied.
Nothing he said was anything new—she was aware of what it all meant, how it could play out. She was ready to face whatever consequences came from the outcome of this war, whether it was victory or defeat.