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On the day of the prince’s birthday banquet, the palace walls were full of noise, but to Kenta’s satisfaction, the prince wasn’t the one creating all the ruckus. 

Kenta took his position standing besides the prince as his bodyguard, and risked a glance towards Prince Saihi. Sitting on plush cushions in ceremonial silks and heavy fabrics, Kenta chuckled to himself when he noticed what might have kept the prince tame: a bottle of white rice soju hidden in the folds of the prince’s garments. 

A couple yard spans worth of visitors stood waiting in line to greet the royal prince on his birthday and Kenta watched from beside as Saihi occasionally waved his hand in drunken bemusement, which was luckily seen by most, as  royal acknowledgement.

“Hey.” Saihi motioned for Kenta after their previous visitor left in a multitude of continuous bows. The other four guards that stood alongside the prince stepped forwards to block the oncoming crowd, noticing that their prince would like a moment with his right-hand man. Kenta lowered his torso to the side to lend Saihi an ear.

“Yes, your highness?” he tried to contain a nagging irritation as this day belonged to the prince.

Saihi waved a hand in front of his face as if swatting at a fly and squinted at nowhere in particular. He was so clearly drunk. Kenta only hoped people mistook the pink of the prince’s cheeks as warmth from the daytime heat. “Listen,” the prince whispered. “When Mother comes, you greet her in my stead.” When Kenta began to shake his head, the prince added, “I can’t feel my legs.”

Kenta grimaced and whispered back, “I still can’t do that for you.” Kenta motioned for a nearby servant and asked for water to be brought. “Continue smiling and sober up enough to greet her majesty.” 

Saihi rolled his eyes and sulked. “Party pooper.” Kenta ignored him and went back to an upwards position, facing the grand outdoor courtyard where guests of every class streamed in wearing their best clothes. His eyes just happened to land on Odilia as she and Emiko walked through the ornamental gates. 

Emiko noticed Kenta watching them in the distance first, and waved. Kenta didn’t think it appropriate to wave at someone in the crowds while on guard-duty, so he plastered on his best professional smile, hoping it didn’t look like a grimace, as Emiko led Odilia through the sea of visitors. They didn’t get very far because halfway through the line, angry voices arose towards the two girls for cutting between the procession of visitors hoping to greet the prince. 

Kenta hoped he wasn’t cringing when Odilia leaned over and whispered to Emiko who now seemed to notice the prince sitting beside their friend. Emiko’s eyes looked for Kenta’s and met. He could feel his cheeks growing hot. He hadn’t told them in what position he worked for the prince. He found himself avoiding Odilia’s yellow hued irises when she looked up at him. Odilia led Emiko back to the end of the line. 

With the endless amount of visitors, the line may have been a thirty minute long wait, but soon Kenta found himself before Emiko and Odilia. Odilia wore an orange colored kimono that depicted koi fish and waves that looked like bursts of sunlight. Emiko’s was similar, but instead of fish, her kimono had flowers. The clothing depicting suns was fitting in that it celebrated the birth of the sun of Kuroba, the crown prince. Emiko and Odilia bowed and presented wrapped gifts to the sobering prince. Emiko didn’t even glance at Kenta while leaving but Odilia’s yellow eyes caught Kenta’s before she descended down the steps. A pitless feeling that Kenta couldn’t make out entered his stomach.

Kenta didn’t have time to process this newfound unease because suddenly, the great big doors of the inner palace burst open and grand music sounded as a procession emerged. 

The empress’s ladies in waiting, daughters of the daimyo and shogunates of Kuroba, emerged in rows of silk and paper fans. Following them were the small children of the palace officials throwing flower petals in tune to the orchestra music which changed to the beat of the grand procession. Then loud trumpets and drums began to sound as two figures appeared at the center of the rectangular doorway. 

Hanan and Katsumi were the prince’s two cousins, twin daughters to the queen’s dead sister. They treated the palace as if it were their own. Not in the childish way of wielding the palace wealth as they pleased; although they did it often, but in the way that the servants would take their words as those of royalty. 

And the twins were old. Not in the way that they grew wrinkles, but old for their time as marriageable women as they’d last celebrated their twenty-ninth birthday. Kenta suspected by the hungry way they always looked at Saihi’s crown, that in the same way they treated the palace staff as their own, they wanted his throne too. 

“Hanan! Katsumi!” The prince greeted them warmly with his arms outstretched. The twins politely bowed and presented their gifts, then fluttered away just as elegantly as they’d come with their fans shielding their faces. Kenta turned his head as trumpets and drums sounded their march once more. The queen entered.

“Can you stand?” Kenta whispered to the prince without turning.

“I’m up,” replied the prince. He sounded convincingly sober. 

The empress smiled, her pearly whites gleaming as she glided towards them. She wore a kimono, red like the afternoon heat. Her black hair was twisted high and adorned with crowns. The entire room seemed to bend and flow with her movement, the hearts of the people pounding with each step from their beloved ruler. She was a powerful force, an empress respected for the prowess of leadership after her husband's untimely death. 

She was the mother of the empire’s future emperor, but she’d also served as mother to this nation. Crowds fell before her, muttering thanks. Hands, commoner hands reached out, but the empress did not shy away and even looked into the people’s adoring eyes. The empress finally reached the prince’s perch.

Energy hung between mother and son. Then the empress’s red lips curled into a grin that matched Saihi’s. “Shall we talk?” No formal greeting was needed between family. They could not embrace like a normal son and mother, being that both were royalty and the entire kingdom was watching, but the prince moved to his mother’s side so that she could take his arm. “Wait.” The empress stopped mid-stride. “I forgot, I first wish for you to see my gift.” 

The empress’s servants rushed forward with an adorned cart. Something awaited beneath a red, silk cloth. “Open it,” the empress urged. 

Kenta watched as the prince inched forwards, then after checking to see his mother’s approval, tore the cloth off the cart like he were a little boy. A gasp echoed in a wave through the crowd, the first having come from the prince when the gift was revealed. A rifle of the newest model. The empress knew her son too well.

Saihi trailed his fingers against the fine model of cold metal and wood. “Mother-!” The prince coughed and stopped himself, pivoting so he was actually looking at the empress when he spoke. “Thank you, mother. I will use it well.” 

The empress smiled and held out her arm. The prince took it as an invitation to have her hold on to him again and to begin a private conversation. The watching crowd slowly resumed their cycle. The orchestra played its calming melody, the servants walked their paths carrying appetizers, and the guests renewed their own conversations. 

Kenta remained true to his duty. He was still watching the prince. 

The prince looked as if he were following the empress rather than leading her as correct etiquette would instruct. No doubt Saihi’s mind was still lost to the rifle that sat waiting for him on the cart. The empress was saying something to him and he was nodding his head slowly. 

The nodding stopped. 

Kenta couldn’t see their expressions since both had their backs to him, but Saihi’s shoulders now looked tense. Saihi stepped away from his mother. The empress now took his hand, dropped it, then walked back to the center of the platform. Kenta watched as the empress turned to look back at her son. Saihi’s turned, jaw set. He followed, but Kenta could tell that the movement was with reluctance.

Trumpets blared once more and the crowd hushed. This time, the orchestra stopped their music also. The empress guided her elegant hands upwards and bestowed her son forwards. “Today,” she spoke. “We gather together to celebrate Prince Saihi Seihi’s twenty-first birthday.”

Kenta knew the empress liked to speak on her son’s behalf each year, but unlike the prince’s usual willowy gestures and easy grin, Saihi’s jaw was square and his brown eyes were set on a scene far away. 

“This day not only celebrates the birth of my only son, but the birth of the son of this nation,” continued the empress. “And soon, we shall celebrate the birth of a new era…” The empress let her words hang as she turned to look at her son. Saihi’s lips were clamped in a tight smile. The empress looked back at the crowd. “I have decided that it is time to pass the crown. This nation requires a new figure to rule this land into prosperity. As the sun always sets, I believe with the prince’s twenty-first birthday, it is time for the sun to rise anew.”

Kenta now understood why the prince had grown board-stiff in a short span of time. The empress planned to make him emperor. This was no surprise since the prince had always known the crown would be his. Saihi had even anticipated it, so Kenta began to question what bothered Saihi when the queen continued.

“However, the sun shall not rise alone,” the empress’s voice echoed as she said, “A new empress shall come to take my place as mother of this nation to guide this country. Today we celebrate our prince, but in two weeks time, we shall celebrate the birth of a new empress and emperor of this nation.” 

The crowd burst into cheer. Saihi looked green in his colorful kimono. Kenta almost felt bad for the prince. Almost. If the prince married, at least all the inappropriate rumors would disappear. Maybe he would even mature-up and take on his duties. Kenta glared at the prince’s back. He better take on his duties. 

Saihi bid his farewells to the empress and she left in the reverse order that she came. Hanan and Katsuki left last, dark eyes pointing accusingly at the prince behind colorful fans. The empress's plans to crown the prince must have been news to them as well. 

When they were all gone, the prince was alone before his audience. He smiled, his playful mischievous sort that he slipped on right before doing something Kenta did not like. 

He spoke to the people, courtiers, all who can hear when he said this, “Shall we dance?”