The Twelve Kingdoms: Dreaming of Paradise

were beheaded and their bodies left to rot in the sun.
    When this news reached him, Gekkei broke the inkstone in a rage. The clear, high sound of the shattering stone echoing in his ears, he set off on a path from which there would be no turning back.
    He'd never regretted raising the army. But he did regret that he ever had to do it, that he wasn't able to stop Chuutatsu before the dynasty began to crumble. Chuutatsu had entrusted Gekkei with this high position, and he'd repaid that debt with treason. And he hated himself for it.
    Chuutatsu was undeniably the Royal Hou, and the throne was his alone. Unable to stop him from straying from the Way, Gekkei had turned against him, and waving the banner of his righteous cause, assassinated him. He'd come to believe that taking what had been Chuutatsu's would be unforgiveable.
    There was no greater crime than regicide. The broken inkstone remained as a symbol of that singular fact. Just as the inkstone could never again return to its original purpose and form, having trampled on the Divine Will, Gekkei could never wash the blood from his hands. He could say it was all for the people and for the kingdom. But every time he looked at cruel fissure in the inkstone, the reality that it was nothing more than mean and willful destruction was again driven home.
    The faint sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts.

    Shouyou appeared in the doorway. "I thought maybe you were looking for me. There was a servant waiting at my residence when I got back from the office."
    He stepped into the study. Even in the lamplight, he could see that all of Gekkei's personal books and other effects had been piled up in a corner of the room. He was already getting ready to clear out of the place. Seeing Gekkei's will so physically manifested was terribly depressing.
    The study's owner laughed softly. "And so you came all the way over here? Sorry about that."
    "No problem," Shouyou muttered to himself. His eyes fell on the object in Gekkei's hand. "That is—"
    "Yes, the gift I received from His Highness."
    "Ah," exclaimed Shouyou. "When I was appointed Minister of Heaven, I received a similar inkstone."
    "Do you still have it?"
    Shouyou reacted with a troubled smile. "I do. I've tried to throw it away on many occasions, but could never bring myself to."
    "Same here." Gekkei closed the lid of the box and carefully placed it back on the shelf. "Whenever His Highness gave one of his retainers a gift, it was always an inkstone, brush, paper or ink."
    "Indeed it was," Shouyou agreed, feeling a strange twinge of nostalgia.
    The look must have shown on his face, for Gekkei raised his wine glass. "What do you say, Shouyou?"
    "Wasn't there something you needed me for?"
    "I think this qualifies," Gekkei replied, offering Shouyou a glass.
    "Then I accept. What about General Sei?"
    "He's resting. We talked for quite a while. Afterward he begged off saying that he was exhausted. He retired to his room without eating dinner. I'm afraid I left a lot on his mind to think about."
    Shouyou leaned forward. He didn't quite see the connection between having a lot on one's mind and going to bed early. Neither could he tell whether Gekkei was paying no attention to his state of mind or hadn't noticed his dubious reaction. A warm expression on his face, Gekkei placed the wine glass in his hand.
    "His Highness didn't care for spirits either. He had no fondness for luxuries of any sort. Whatever he gave his retainers, it would not be gold or jewels."
    "Indeed. Though an expertly-made inkstone easy costs the same as a fine gemstone." Shouyou smiled faintly. "The generals of the Palace Guard were taken aback to receive ink stones as gifts. Probably because they had no idea of their actual value. And even if they did, the idea of receiving the object as a gift itself was surprising enough."
    "Undoubtedly," Gekkei agreed with a smile. He filled Shouyou's glass. "Not just the inkstone and ink, but high-grade brushes and paper. Stationery was the only luxury His Highness allowed himself. He couldn't be bothered with fashion or the extravagances of interior décor. His wife apparently did not share his ascetic nature, though."
    "No, she did not," Shouyou said with a nod.
    Chuutatsu deplored extravagance and pomp. Queen Kaka made a good show of living the simple life, but when it came to her personal affects, only the very best was good enough for her. She did nothing in half-measures.
    "It appears His Highness had no idea what