Time passed.
The four Princess Consorts gathered for a tea party—an elegant affair in name only.
The atmosphere?
Tense.
Miharu and Akane sat across from each other, trading polite words laced with hidden barbs.
Rei was quiet, withdrawn. Her gaze lingered on her untouched cup, lost in mourning for Niwa Yori.
And Suzuki?
She didn't care.
Not about politics. Not about tension. Not about grief.
She had one concern.
As the conversation turned to the upcoming Imperial education program, the Empresses' newest initiative, an unexpected name was mentioned among the instructors.
Appointed personally by White Empress Asami.
Shimuzu Rin.
Silence.
The name rippled through the air like a dropped stone in still water.
Akane tilted her head. Analytical. Curious. "Shimuzu Rin… the magician from the White Flower Palace?"
Miharu set down her cup gently. "He's quite skilled," she said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "He helped me once with a casting sequence I couldn't solve."
Rei remained silent. Her eyes flickered, but her lips didn't move.
Suzuki?
She darkened.
(No. No, no, no. This is bad. This is very bad.)
Her hands clenched beneath the tablecloth.
Her Rin—her treasure—was about to be placed in front of the other consorts. Like a rare artifact on display.
She barely tolerated Miharu's presence before.
Akane was too sharp.
And Rei, even in grief, was too unpredictable.
She had to act.
Suzuki let out a soft, practiced chuckle. "Oh my. Rin must be absolutely swamped these days. Teaching us on top of everything else? I do hope he won't overextend himself."
Akane arched an eyebrow. "You almost sound like you don't want him to teach us, Suzuki."
Suzuki offered a serene smile and raised her teacup. "Not at all. I'm only concerned for his well-being. That's all."
Shimuzu Rin, unaware of the war about to unfold, stood calmly in front of the Princess Consorts a week later.
He hadn't chosen this position.
He'd been assigned.
The Hoshimi Imperial Family's decision was clear—educate the consorts, and in doing so, remain under close observation.
Officially, he was a magic instructor.
Unofficially?
A test subject. A curiosity. A former prince under a different name.
Still, Rin did what he always did: his duty, with quiet excellence.
He taught theory with clarity, efficiency.
He demonstrated spells with elegance and ease, High-Class techniques rendered effortless in his hands.
The consorts were respectful, maintaining proper decorum.
All except one.
Suzuki.
She never left his side.
If Miharu moved to ask a question, Suzuki was already there.
If Akane raised a hand, Suzuki found a reason to intercept.
If Rei showed the faintest interest, Suzuki leaned in—too close, too personal.
Rin, caught between diplomacy and survival, said nothing.
Part of him wanted to thank Suzuki. She kept the others at bay.
But the moment she whispered a question—her voice warm, her eyes lingering—he remembered.
Suzuki wasn't protecting him.
She was claiming him.
So he did what he always did.
Pretended not to notice.
And Suzuki?
She saw through it.
But she didn't care.
If he ran, she followed.
If he dodged, she redirected.
Every lesson, every demonstration, was a quiet war.
Magic was dangerous.
But navigating the affections of the Azure Princess Consort?
Far more deadly.
After the tutoring ended, and the Second Official Purge shook the Empire,
the Imperial Capital was left in ruins.
Corrupt nobles, officials, and deep-rooted factions had been eliminated by the Imperial Family's orders. It was bloody. Necessary. And devastating.
Rin hadn't expected to be involved.
But here he was—standing shoulder to shoulder with high-ranking officers and advisors, working to stabilize the heart of the Empire.
He should've remained a background figure. That had always been the plan.
And yet...
The more problems he solved, the deeper he was pulled in.
Inside a vast, echoing chamber lit by sunbeams through shattered windows, Rin stood before a tactical map, pointing at key zones.
His voice was calm, practical. Efficient.
"The southern districts took the worst of it. We need to prioritize fresh water access and food supply routes. Earth Mages should be assigned to reinforce the infrastructure—particularly the bridge columns and main roads."
An older officer nodded, impressed.
"Smart. The inner city walls also need urgent attention. We can't afford another surprise attack."
At the side of the room, Akane folded her arms and observed quietly.
When she finally spoke, it was with a familiar, amused edge.
"Shimuzu Rin... you certainly have a mind for governance."
Rin offered a respectful bow.
"I only speak from what I've observed, Lady Shinegori."
She stepped forward, heels clicking softly on the marble. Her eyes locked onto his.
"Observant, composed, and efficient… Almost like someone raised for this role."
His heart skipped.
Was that just Akane's usual testing... or did she know?
But the other officials only nodded in agreement, oblivious to the tension crackling between them.
"Shimuzu Rin's strategies have been invaluable."
"We should put him in charge of coordinating the next phase."
Akane smiled.
A knowing smile.
"So dependable. I must admit... it's a quality I find rather attractive."
Rin smiled weakly.
He'd faced monsters. Dark mages. Assassination attempts.
But Akane?
Akane was terrifying.
Outside the chamber.
Suzuki waited.
The moment she saw Akane leaving at Rin's side, her expression turned dark.
She stepped in front of them—graceful, but firm.
Blocking the path like a polished blade.
"Lady Shinegori," Suzuki said sweetly. "I'd advise you to keep your distance from my mentor."
Akane blinked, innocent as a cat.
"Oh? But I was just admiring his talents. We're working together now, aren't we?"
Suzuki's smile sharpened.
"No. You're trying to manipulate him. And I'm not going to let you."
Akane laughed softly, brushing her fingers through her hair.
"Manipulate? Dear Suzuki, you're too dramatic. It's not my fault Rin happens to be both useful... and desirable."
Suzuki's jaw tensed.
"He's not yours to toy with."
Akane took a step forward, lowering her voice to a teasing murmur.
"And is he yours?"
Suzuki froze.
Rin, standing behind her, was silently screaming into the void.
Please... someone... anyone… save me.
Akane smiled wider. Her eyes gleamed.
"You're clinging, Suzuki. But if Rin really belonged to you… would he be standing there, saying nothing at all?"
Suzuki glanced back at him.
His neutral face. His pained silence.
It hurt.
Akane didn't press further. She simply leaned in, whispering with a smirk.
"Careful, Shimuzu Rin. If you keep being this competent, I might just take a real interest in you."
She turned with a flourish, heels clicking as she walked away, her soft laughter echoing behind her.
Suzuki turned, fire in her eyes.
"I'll protect you from her."
Rin, utterly exhausted by women and politics alike, smiled faintly.
"I never wanted to be protected from paperwork..."
But deep inside?
He despaired.
His quiet life was already dead.
The Imperial Courtship Ceremony.
A grand procession celebrating the bond between Crown Prince Kazuo and the four Princess Consorts.
It was supposed to be a symbol of harmony and imperial unity.
But to Rin?
It was just another headache.
Once again, he had been dragged into service—this time, part of the advance group tasked with securing the route of the Imperial Carriage.
The route, ironically, passed through locations tied to romantic memories.
Public gardens. Lakeside pavilions. Rooftop restaurants. Places Kazuo had visited with each of his consorts over the years.
Places Rin had quietly maintained from behind the scenes.
Places Rin now found utterly cursed.
He didn't want to be part of this.
He wasn't supposed to be.
And yet—he was here.
Worse still?
Suzuki was too.
The Azure Princess Consort should have been focused on her engagement duties with the Crown Prince.
Instead…
She was near Rin.
Always near Rin.
He tried to avoid her, slipping away as soon as his tasks were done. He didn't even go far—just to a nearby rooftop overlooking the convoy preparations.
The wind was light.
He sat on the edge, arms resting on his knees, watching the sea of movement below.
Uniforms, flags, and Imperial Guards in formation. A stunning display.
And utterly meaningless to him.
He let out a sigh.
Peace. At last.
Or so he thought.
"There you are."
A soft voice, deceptively sweet.
Rin flinched.
Turning slowly, he saw her.
Suzuki.
Poised. Elegant. And dangerously close.
She stepped lightly across the rooftop tiles, her skirt fluttering in the wind, those maple-colored eyes locked onto him with frightening certainty.
"I knew you'd be here," she said with a soft smile. "You always watch from the quietest spot, don't you?"
Rin stared at her, stunned.
"How did you…?"
She tilted her head. "I've known you long enough to learn your habits. You like heights. Solitude. The edge of things." She walked over and sat beside him, her tone casual. "You're like a ghost. Always slipping away. But even ghosts leave footprints."
Rin ran a hand through his hair, exasperated.
"Suzuki, shouldn't you be with the Crown Prince?"
She rested her chin on her hand, completely unconcerned.
"Why would I do that?"
"Because this is his Courtship. You're supposed to—"
"—play along?" she interrupted smoothly. "Smile, act devoted, hold hands? Rin, don't insult me. You know that's not what I want."
He exhaled. Carefully. Slowly.
"You're going to cause a scandal."
She laughed softly, like it was the funniest thing he'd said all day.
"I don't care. Let them gossip. Let them wonder why the Azure Consort ignores her fiancé and chases a low-ranking escort mage instead."
Rin winced.
"Please don't phrase it like that."
She leaned in slightly, voice low.
"But that's what I'm doing, isn't it?"
Rin turned away, refusing to meet her eyes.
"You're going to ruin your standing…"
"What standing?" she said flatly. "The one that forces me to smile at a man I don't love? To play along with a story I never believed in?"
He was quiet.
She softened then, her fingers brushing the rooftop tiles.
"You saved me, Rin. Taught me how to live. How to think. How to feel. Why should I pretend those feelings don't exist just because they're inconvenient?"
He didn't answer.
She looked at him, eyes searching.
"You keep pretending you don't notice me. You always do."
"Because if I acknowledge it," Rin said quietly, "you'll get hurt."
Her expression didn't change.
Only her voice dropped—barely above a whisper.
"I'd rather get hurt staying by your side than live pretending I don't care."
Silence stretched between them.
Below, the convoy stirred. Trumpets began to call. The world moved on.
But up here, on the rooftop?
Rin and Suzuki sat side by side. Two pieces of a game neither had asked to play. One running. The other chasing.
And for once… neither of them moved.
Rin looked at her, eyes quiet but firm.
"You're making this complicated for yourself, Suzuki. You do understand that if your feelings become known... I'll die. And you might lose your position as the Azure Princess Consort."
Suzuki didn't flinch.
Instead, she stepped closer, voice low but unwavering.
"Then let's run."
Rin blinked.
"What?"
"We can run, Rin," she repeated. "You just have to say the word—and I'll elope with you. Right now. I'll give it all up."
For a heartbeat, the wind fell silent.
Rin looked away.
"I can't."
"Why not?" she asked, almost pleading.
"Because I can't run from the Empire," he said. "I have too many ties here. Too many duties. I love the Empire, Suzuki. Doing what you said... would be a betrayal."
Suzuki's lips trembled, but she smiled anyway.
"Then I'll make you betray it. I don't care. I'll drag you away if I have to."
"You won't change my mind," Rin said softly. "I'm stubborn. Stubborn enough to force even my family to accept my leave."
She blinked.
"...Your family?"
"A loving one," he said, his eyes distant. "I left to protect what was right. They already miss me. I can tell—since they made me come along on this ridiculous Imperial Courtship."
Suzuki narrowed her eyes.
"Shimuzu family, huh? I've never heard of any noble family with that name."
Rin smiled faintly, a shadow of mischief in his voice.
"You wouldn't have."
"Why not?"
He took a step back.
"Because I borrowed that name."
"...What?"
But Rin was already moving.
He turned, dashed to the edge—and dove.
A single heartbeat.
Then he was gone, vanishing down the side of the rooftop with the grace of someone far too used to running from things.
Suzuki stood there, lips parted in shock.
Then she sighed, arms folded, and pouted toward the empty space he'd left behind.
"Of course," she whispered. "Always running…"
The wind ruffled her hair.
"Even though all I ever wanted… was for you to love me back."
She closed her eyes.
And for a moment, the noise of the Courtship parade below was drowned out by the quiet ache in her chest.
The 7th Day of the Imperial Courtship.
The valley, once serene, was now a battlefield bathed in blood and shadows.
The Dark Order had struck.
Their ambush was precise, merciless—and devastating. Demons tore through the vanguard, and chaos erupted as the carriage carrying the Crown Prince and the four consorts skidded to a halt.
And then, cutting through the darkness like a falling star—he arrived.
Rin.
His katana danced in the dim light, his movements too fast to follow. A storm of magic erupted from his form—supreme-tier, ancient, overwhelming. Earth cracked, wind howled, and the skies pulsed with violet energy.
The lord-class demon, towering and snarling, didn't even get a second strike.
One graceful slash.
Silence.
And then, it crumbled.
Dead.
The battlefield froze.
Blood dripping from his blade, Rin stood at the heart of it all—his breathing steady, his eyes glowing a haunting purple before slowly fading back to black.
Kazuo, standing on the cliffs above, stared.
He wasn't a fool.
He knew that sword form.
He knew that magic.
And more than anything else—he knew that presence.
"...Brother," Kazuo whispered.
That one word shattered the illusion.
The others turned.
The consorts looked toward Rin in disbelief.
Suzuki took a step forward, her expression crumbling.
No... it can't be...
But it was.
As Rin turned, sheathing his katana with elegance honed through years of isolation and hardship, he locked eyes with Kazuo. There was no anger. Just weary acceptance.
"It's been a while," Rin said quietly, "since I heard you call me that."
The winds stilled.
There was no "Shimuzu Rin."
There never was.
He had always been Hoshimi Rin—the long-lost Second Imperial Prince.
Suzuki's legs weakened. Her breath caught in her throat.
That's why…
That's why he kept pushing her away.
That's why he always avoided deeper intimacy.
That's why he carried such sorrow in his eyes, even while smiling.
He wasn't just a commoner or her mentor.
He was royalty.
A prince.
Her prince.
"Rin…" she whispered, voice trembling.
Rin, standing amidst the carnage, simply looked up at the sky—exhausted, exposed, and no longer hidden.
So much for living quietly…
Imperial Camp, Temporary Command Tent
Nightfall
The quiet hum of magical wards buzzed faintly in the canvas walls, barely enough to mask the tension inside.
Rin sat slumped on a makeshift cot, his body battered, uniform singed, and fingers still twitching from overexerted spellwork. The glow in his core had dimmed. His katana, now cleaned, rested beside him—silent, like the room.
Opposite him, Crown Prince Kazuo sat rigid, his jaw clenched, shoulders tense as if he were preparing to face judgment.
The four consorts—Suzuki, Miharu, Rei, and Akane—stood in the background, too stunned to speak. The fire of battle had ended, but something deeper was unraveling before them.
Rin broke the silence first.
"You just had to expose me, huh?"
His voice was hoarse, edged with irritation and something close to regret. He didn't even try to hide the glare he sent Kazuo's way.
Kazuo didn't answer immediately. He exhaled—a slow, pained breath—as he finally looked Rin in the eye.
"You were the one hiding in plain sight," he replied. But there was no accusation in his tone. Just confusion… and guilt.
Rin let out a sharp, exhausted sigh.
"I had my reasons."
Kazuo's fists curled on his lap.
"Was it because I hurt you?"
"That day… when I said you were a burden to the throne."
Rin froze—just for a second.
That memory had scarred him. But it wasn't the reason he left.
"No," Rin said flatly. "I left so you could rise without interference. I never wanted the throne. I never did."
Kazuo's head snapped up.
"Then why—"
"Because I'm better off outside the palace," Rin cut in. "I can breathe outside that golden cage. I'm not like you. I don't want to rule. I want to live."
The silence that followed wasn't hollow.
It was full—of shared grief, missed time, and unsaid words.
And then, breaking every decorum, Kazuo stood and embraced him.
"You absolute idiot," he whispered. "You should've told me."
Rin stiffened… then slowly, reluctantly, returned the gesture. His chin rested awkwardly on Kazuo's shoulder.
"You would've tried to stop me."
"Of course I would've."
"Exactly."
A breath of quiet laughter—sad and warm—passed between them.
But not everyone was at peace.
Behind them, Suzuki stared—not at the two princes—but at the crumbling illusion of her place beside him.
The dots were all connecting.
His power. His presence. His secrets.
Hoshimi Rin.
He wasn't hers to protect. He wasn't hers to chase.
He had never been hers at all.
Her hands trembled slightly as she whispered:
"Why… Why do I feel like I've lost something important?"
The others turned slightly at her voice, but she wasn't speaking to them.
Her eyes were locked on Rin.
And the glint in them… it wasn't just sorrow anymore.
It was possessiveness.
It was determination.