The Twelve Kingdoms: A Thousand Leagues of Wind

the rumors would race from this place like a wildfire. You are not the only ones with grievances to settle. The princess royal is not the only person so loathed. You know how the executioners have all hidden themselves away for fear of being lynched. More than the most cruel punishments, this kind of retribution would eat our kingdom alive. I am asking you to please consider the fate of our kingdom and act prudently."
    He gazed out at the bowed heads. "We shall protect our kingdom and deliver it to the new king without shame or regret. How can we expect enlightened rule from our future king if we hand over to him a kingdom ravaged by revenge? The province lords and ministers are all working toward that end, and we all ask for your support in doing so."
    The girl was bundled onto the you -bird's back. Silence descended on the square, a silence soon swept away by sound of weeping.

Part IV
    hen Shoukei opened her eyes, she was lying on a gorgeously-arrayed canopy bed. Ah, so it was all a dream after all. She breathed a sigh of relief. All a dream: the murder of her parents, being sent off to the orphanage, the slings and arrows of so much hate and malice, on the verge of being most cruelly executed.
    "You awake?" a frosty voice said.
    Shoukei sat up and looked around. The lady's maid sitting there next to the bed glared at her. Shoukei thought, What's this wench doing in my private chambers?
    As she mulled it over, the lady's maid got up and left the room. Shoukei finally noticed the differences between her room at Youshun Palace and the room she was in. All she had on was a short-sleeved cotton singlet, its hem lengthened with a mismatched patchwork of fabrics.
    Anxiety welled up in her heart. Glancing around the room, she saw folded on the table a plain jukun, a blouse and skirt made of stiff, rough wool, a cotton smock and a wool jacket.
    "Where am I?"
    Still wearing only the singlet, Shoukei stepped down from the bed stand and wandered around the room.
    This isn't a dream. That guardsman came to my rescue and saved me.
    Shoukei didn't know if that was something she should be grateful for or not. The bedroom door opened. A man was shown into the room by the lady's maid.
    Shoukei froze on the spot. "Gekkei."
    A sardonic smile came to the man's lips. "Get dressed."
    Shoukei rushed back to the bed stand, mortified to have been seen in the threadbare singlet. She hastily donned the jukun, flushing with shame at the shabbiness of the blouse and skirt.
    "Your thanks are in order to Gobo. She traveled all through the day and night to get to the castle to let us know what was going on."
    Gekkei's voice filtered through the curtains of the big canopy bed. Shoukei arranged the outfit as best she could. Gobo? she grimaced. What was with that woman? She'd made her life hell and then turned around and kissed up to Gekkei like an angel. Be thankful to a creature like that?
    With all the intestinal fortitude she could muster, she emerged from the canopy bed and stepped down from the bed stand, holding her head high. Gekkei leaned back against the big table, folded his arms and looked her over.
    "I never thought we'd meet again, but unfortunately it became necessary."
    "Satisfied are you? Happy to see me reduced to such a degenerate state?"
    "You are quite the dreadful sight."
    Shoukei felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Her impoverished appearance next to the silk-clad Gekkei. Her bony, sunburnt body. As it was winter, she hadn't bathed in ages.
    " You did this to me." Shoukei said, her words suffused with anger.
    "You mean, dressed you in rags and sent you to work?" Gekkei smirked. "How easy it must have been to adorn yourself with silk and jewels and be praised for your beauty. What girl would not think herself elegant with servants at her beck and call, and summers spent frolicking in the shade of the trees? But the great majority of the people wear what you call rags and work the land by the sweat of their brows. What is truly ugly is your contempt for their humble lives."
    "And where are we now, Gekkei?" Shoukei spat back at him. "In your castle, with you dressed in silk, toying with the powers of the government, indulging your prurient little games. Is it fun playing king?"
    Gekkei grinned. "I can hardly think of how to reply to such a question."
    "You're the traitor who killed the king and stole the throne."
    "That as well I see no need to deny. It is certainly correct on its face." He turned his gaze on her. "Evidently,