The Twelve Kingdoms: Dreaming of Paradise

gripped by doubts sufficient to bring the Imperial Court to a standstill. And yet, as I have stated time and again, there is no reason for us to slow our pace or retreat."
    Illustration
    The eyes of all the ministers remained focused on Shishou.
    "Is it possible that governing a kingdom should be an easy thing? Do you think we could march merrily forward with no obstacles in our way and no uncertainties holding us back? If all our paths were straight and even, would a government ever lose its way? Would a king ever stray from the Way? The road ahead will only grow more difficult."
    Shishou added forcefully, "However, I have seen the kingdom as it should be. That is the belief that propelled me on the Shouzan, and according to which I received the Mandate of Heaven. Ever since then, I have been surveying the road leading us to that ideal. Losing sight of that ideal is as good as parting from the Way. But I have seen what our kingdom can become, and I shall be laying the groundwork that will take us there. No matter how rough the terrain may be, do not doubt that we are headed in the right direction. If you question the strength of my convictions, it cannot be because I am confused in the slightest about our goals. It is because your ideals have faltered in the face of the steep and precipitous climb that awaits us."
    Shuka caught her breath. Her ideals were indeed in a state of flux. And that was because of the irreconcilable reality before her. She could beat her head against that wall and it would not budge. She could not erase the question in her mind—that the ideals held out to them had been flawed from the onset.
    As if he could read her mind, Shishou's gaze singled her out in the front row of ministers. A slight smile came to his lips. "I have not wavered in the slightest. I see as clearly as I ever have—what should have been clear to you as well all along."
    Shishou glanced at the row of ministers kneeling there in the Gaiden. Shishou said in a strong, self-assured voice, "There will be no yielding to despair or confusion. Our will must not be broken!"
    As if battered by his words, the Daishikou kneeling next to Shuka bent his body even lower. The robes of the kowtowing ministers to her right and left rustled like falling leaves. Only the image of profound discouragement on the exhausted Eishuku's face swam into the vision of the bewildered Shuka.
    He turned his face away, sighed, and then glanced over his shoulder at the ministers. His eyes met hers. He subtly shook his head
    With a great sense of sorrow, Shuka lowered her head. So that's that. Eishuku must have visited Shishou the night before. They would have spent the night hashing over Sai's problems and Sairin's condition. Her crushing realization was that Shishou's pronouncement must be the product of the night's discussion.
    Any doubts about Shishou or misgivings about his ideals would be put down to disappointed expectations and a lack of fortitude.
    And yet— Shuka had seen Sairin. If she wasn't suffering from the shitsudou, then what? This incarnation of charity had cursed Shuka from her sickbed—with a look that spoke more of a heart filled with hate.

Chapter 5
    S huka persevered through the Privy Council, feeling like a cold, black lump was lodged in the pit of her stomach. Sitting in Shishou's field of view alone was unbearable. Even after the Privy Council had concluded and she was out of his presence, her anxieties grew all the keener. She returned to the manse overwhelmed by the oppressive gloom surrounding her.
    "Welcome home," said Seiki, her valet, upon her arrival at the residence. And then, "Are you all right?" He'd probably been informed about her return by the watchman. He had prepared two cups of tea. They sat down and he studied her face. "You look even worse than when you left."
    "I'm okay. Just a little tired."
    "Oh, is that it?" he replied in an unconvinced tone of voice. He placed the teacup on the table. Mumbling something about the air being bad and the light being too strong, he hurried around opening the windows. Then he turned down the wick on the lamp, moved the folding screens around, and generally straightened up the room.
    Seiki had a small, round frame, and the way he flitted about the room reminded Shuka of a pudgy sparrow. She finally was able to sit back and take a breath. He'd always had that uncanny ability to put her at ease.
    "That's why I'm always telling you not to burn the candle at both ends. That's what