Kai-Se crossed his arms as he stared with disdain at the lush, rolling hills outside the windows of the carriage rumbling along the bumpy roads of Hankuure, Xuijae's last city to the east. It had been a week since they had departed from Dangrao, the seat of the Imperial powers, and during that span of time, he couldn't have disliked the Yomaura soldier more.

It's not because he was stern and has an aptitude for giving out lectures about order and structure. Sure, Kai-Se disliked that but he could bear with it if his life depended on it. It's because Nao-Zai was predictable as the course of rivers dotting the expanse of Chaebeon. Every word out of the soldier's mouth, every action from his limbs—Kai-Se could predict it all. And predictable people were the bane of his existence.

He couldn't wait to finish this trip, secure some trade relations between Dansarun and Xuijae, make his father happy with his newfound alliance, and go back to the streets to continue crafting and telling his stories. It was something he couldn't put aside no matter how hard he tried. Because when he's on the streets, he wasn't a prince. The expectations dumped on his shoulders as the next Emperor who was supposed to carry on the Najizaki name for eternity were nonexistent. When he's a humble piper, unknown to people with nothing but his tales to tell, he felt like he could do anything. Conquer anything.

Plus, as soon as this trip was over, he could be rid of the Yomaura soldier's presence and he could finally allow An-Ri to be his companion. Unlike Nao-Zai, An-Ri, being an ancestral spirit from the realm of Shaoryeong granted to him as soon as he was born, was at best erratic. On a good day, Kai-Se couldn't tell what she was thinking. The wisdom flashing on her purple eyes was enough to tell him she was leagues ahead of the jokes he was attempting to tell or the plot twists he was stewing in his mind. With An-Ri, it's like the tables were turned and she was the one reading Kai-Se like an open book.

That's the reason why you don't have friends, An-Ri had chided him at one instance when he complained to her about it. Sometimes, there's beauty in predictability.

Back then, he did attempt to throw a joke about how An-Ri just made a rhyme even when she hated poetry to her core but she must have caught it beforehand and gave him a sniping look. Don't even think about it.

That's why Kai-Se cherished the fox spirit despite her passive-aggressive attitude. And she was right in that regard. It was hard to befriend Kai-Se even when he's not a prince and being one seemed to have widened the gap further than necessary. He had to accept that a long, long time ago. Because, if not for An-Ri, he would have curled into a ball inside his room and be more of a disappointment to his family and to the empire.

He shook his head and forced himself to stare down at the scrolls perched atop his lap. He had requested these documents a week ago and had only gotten halfway because he kept zoning out. There was one time he spent an entire day being transfixed on the hills glowing purple back in Torake even though he knew it was supposed to be because of the stormcloud flowers in full bloom. Perhaps, these hills should be his next destination. Oh, the stories he'd be able to tell in that environment.

From the carriage's seat across him, Nao-Zai raised an eyebrow. It was a crass gesture but during the time they spent together inside a cramped vehicle, the soldier's facade had thawed to reveal a grumpy old man underneath. Kai-Se held in his laugh at that sentiment. Nao-Zai didn't like it when he laughed out of the blue. He wasn't up for another lecture or berating but a small part of him wished the soldier would give him more than an acknowledging nod or a sideways glance.

Kai-Se sighed and tucked his arms inside his sleeves. He had been practicing keeping his hands to himself despite them itching to cast magic and make things fold into themselves. So far, he has been failing.

The letters in the documents bounced along with every bump in the road the wheels passed by. Still, Kai-Se couldn't waste more time trying to read during the stops since he's supposed to eat his meals by then. He couldn't read during the night as well since he was supposed to be sleeping. He leaned back against the cushions of his seat and peered harder into the scrolls.

Hanse Miyo. Governor of the Western Provinces of Shencai. He controls the cities of Mutsu, Khone, and Shincheok. He is known to have disputes with the central province of Laohai and the northern province of Damaya regarding trading routes, borders, and whether these cities should belong to the Western jurisdiction.

Mutsu is known for its special species of jasmine whose petals are not white but, rather, bright blue. Thus, Mutsu has gained the nickname "Blue Jasmine Province". Khone is the pride of the Western Provinces considering it's the Temple Capital of the West with structures to rival the ruins of the old Shencai Empire in the central provinces and the Imperial City of the Gods, Urkaze. Shincheok is the fisher's city and has one of the largest and expansive ports stretching from the borders of Mutsu, Khone, and Shincheok's neighboring city, Aiwang.

Shencai also has the biggest territorial claim to the waters surrounding Shinjien with Xuijae falling in second. Other scholars theorize Dansarun's reason for conquering Shencai was because of this reach.

In Year 1304, Hanse Miyo got involved in a scandal—

"Would you mind keeping it down?" Nao-Xai snapped, shattering Kai-Se's hard-earned focus. Come on, he needed to know about the scandal! "I'm trying to focus on the road."

Kai-Se's head snapped up just as the last notes of the song Say Goodbye to the Birds flitted out of his lips. Oh. Was he humming that all along? Judging from the cross expression painting Nao-Zai's face, he guessed he did.

"What song is that anyway?" Nao-Zai said. His arms haven't stopped being crossed over his chest for the past two hours. How was that possible? "I've never heard of it before."

Kai-Se rolled his eyes. "If you've been going out of your fortress more, you'd be able to know that," he said. "It's famous among children mainly in the Province of Chaebeon. Perhaps your mother sang it to you when you were in your metal loincloth or—"

"You know what? Forget I even asked," Nao-Zai said, going back to looking out into the road. What's there to see except mud and a few grass? This part of Hankuure wasn't known for its fantastic scenery. "Go back to reading."

Kai-Se muttered under his breath as he attempted to steer his shattered attention back to the lines printed on the parchment. So...the scandal. Hanse Miyo. What happened?

"You're doing it again," Nao-Zai said. Kai-Se looked up from the parchment and frowned. "What about it?"

Nao-Zai gestured on the road outside. "I can't focus."

Kai-Se clicked his tongue. "I can't, either. It's either the song and me being quiet or without the song and me blabbing all the way until Dansarun. Which would it be?"

"Just...just keep it to a minimum, perhaps?" the soldier bargained with a heavy sigh. Kai-Se raised an eyebrow. Well, that's unexpected. "I suppose you could do that?"

"A compromise, eh?" Kai-Se nodded. "I could do that, yeah."

"Great," Nao-Zai said, resting his chin against his hand.

Then, he didn't speak any more. Kai-Se kept his gaze on the soldier, noting his strong shoulders and dark eyes. Like all the male soldiers with them, he wore his dark hair long and tied up in a bun. A glinting silver pin bearing the carvings used only by the Yomaura clan sealed it. His skin was pale—almost as pale as Kai-Se's—and his lips curved down in a thin, stern line, his eyes never staying in one place for a long time. Despite all that activity, though, his whole frame was still to the point Kai-Se would almost mistake him for a wax statue.

Kai-Se clicked his tongue and, with the tune of the song slowly forming at the base of his throat once more, did his best to tamp it down before it flitted out of his mouth. He squinted at the text in front of him and continued where it left off.

In Year 1304, Hanse Miyo got involved in a scandal—

"Your Grace, we have cleared Hankuure," one of the soldiers from the rear guard said, his horse neighing with the effort applied to reach the carriage in the center of the file. "We will be entering the Western Provinces tomorrow."

"Thank you, Wen-Shao," Nao-Zai's voice made it out of the window before Kai-Se's could. His hasn't even formed properly. "Keep up the watch throughout the night. We'll set up camp a few hours from now. We'll stay on the road."

The soldier dressed the same way as Nao-Zai ducked his head in acknowledgment and, urging his horse to turn and canter back to where he came from, left them in their false peace. What's left of Kai-Se's focus had flitted out into the wilderness as the call for setting up camp rang across the entourage bringing about a fluster of activity with it.

Kai-Se rested his head against the backrest of his seat and laid an arm over his eyes. So, he wouldn't know what Hanse Miyo's scandal was all about.

Bummer.