The dungeon was not kind to time.
Down here, hours bled together, marked only by the guttering of torches and the occasional shuffle of guards changing watch. Yet dawn crept in anyway—uninvited, unseen—signaled by a faint shift in the air, a coolness that carried the scent of the waking harbor city of Umihoshi above.
Rui Kamishiro had not slept. Not because the stone floor was unforgiving, or because the chain clamped around his ankle bit into his skin when he shifted—though both were true—but because the Emperor’s offer still lingered in his mind like a splinter.
”I’m offering you a position. Not as a soldier, but as my Chief Samurai.”
He lay on his side, one sleeve-covered arm folded under his head, lavender-cyan hair spilling off the small bed, idly tracing patterns in the dust with a fingertip, his expression unreadable.
Two nights ago:
Rui Kamishiro moved like ink through silk—silent, smooth, inevitable. Moonlight slipped over his shoulder, catching on the violet of his hair as he glided through the garden’s shadowed paths. Every step followed a rhythm he’d studied for weeks; every breath matched the heartbeat of the palace itself. He reached the moon-viewing pavilion without a whisper. Below, the koi pond reflected the white walls so clearly it seemed another world waited beneath the surface. He crouched, scanning for movement—nothing but stillness. Victory hung in the air like perfume.
Then—shift. The faint weight of someone watching. Rui turned, his hand ghosting toward his dagger. A man stood at the edge of the pavilion, moonlight gilding his hair in gold and fire. The Emperor.
For a heartbeat, the world held its breath.
“You’re far from where you belong,” Tsukasa said firmly.
Rui’s smile was almost a bow. “Am I?”
The distance closed in a blur. A twist, a flash of steel, the jolt of his body forced to one knee. The dagger clattered away, jasmine crushed beneath him. The Emperor’s hand held him fast—controlled, precise. “You should have struck when you had the chance.”
Rui met his gaze, defiant, breathless. “Maybe I wanted to see you first.”
When the heavy door at the end of the corridor groaned open, Rui didn’t bother to look up. He knew who it was before the footsteps reached the cell.