The king walked back across the garden that separated his own quarters from the apartments shared by his kirin and the Royal Consort. It was a first for him, certainly; he had just been tossed out of a woman's quarters by the woman in question, and to add admonishment to injury, was then told in no uncertain terms that he was too high-handed to be tolerated and he needed to go and reflect on himself. His innate honesty reminded him that he had indeed planned to ambush her, so there was some justification to her admonishment from her standpoint.
:It isn't as though I like this situation either...: Gyousou thought, a little irritated.
It irked him on a deep, personal level that he had to rely on a stranger with no real loyalty to Tai for aid in restoring peace to his kingdom. He was actually in agreement with her sentiment; she had done her part and should be allowed her rest. It was his job to step up and take command of the throne of Tai.
:But with a nation so divided, I cannot risk leaving the court in disarray without the necessary strong leadership required to keep it together until I can finish pacifying the countryside,: he thought, still irritated by the necessity of it.
:The fact that I dislike having to rely on her help is probably one reason why I was so high-handed with her just now,: he thought with a small sigh.
He had underestimated how canny and perceptive she was. Despite the many fine examples of strong women in his rule, he had developed the bad habit of judging most women he met by the standard of his late wife, Isana, and in many cases, that led to his underestimating beautiful wife of such breif but happy years had been a woman of talent and discernment, more inclined to sweetness of temper than strength of tenacity.
He stepped in through one of the side entrances to Seiden Palace and then into his office where a small portrait of his late wife still hung near his desk. He examined it again and shook his head. He had thought at the time that the artist had captured her well, the soft curve of her cheek, the pale shine of her hair, the somewhat sleepy gaze, as if she alway existed half in and half out of this world, viewing it now he wondered if the artist had truly captured her. Had she always been so pale, or was it just the way the artist had rendered her?
:But as I recall, my beloved Isana was not a lady of vitality...: Gyousou thought reluctantly.
He felt like a traitor to her memory for even thinking it, but he knew deep down in his heart that if Isana had remained alive and then had become Royal Consort on his ascension to the throne, there was no way that Tai would have survived. She had been a good, warm and elegant woman but...
Gyousou remembered fondly her sweetness, her gentleness and her giving softness. She had been almost as soft hearted as a kirin. He had never heard a harsh word or a cross look from her. Her softness had always seemed to round out his sharp edges. When she had been in the room he knew that people had not found him to be so intimidating as they generally did, for her innate goodness put people at ease. Their marriage had been a harmonious one. There were those who said she often yielded to him too much, and in many ways he could not deny that, but her own softness had only increased his devotion to her. The only thing that had marred those days had been the fact that, as a General, he had been called away from her side so much. In that case, Isana had lacked the resignation to be a soldiers wife; she had always begged him not to leave her. Even now it was hard to recall how she had tearfully asked him to stay and take care of her, to protect her instead of Tai. To this day, he felt guilty that he had not been able to be there when she needed him.
:And Taiki. I was away when he needed me too. It sometime seems that all I do to protect those I love just ends up making them more vulnerable.:
That was part of the reason why keeping the girl in place for a little longer seemed suddenly important to him. There was no denying that he had to march north, there was also no denying that the royal court still had its share of traitors and enemies. He could not leave Taiki in such a vulnerable position, not again. Yuka didn't look like much all told; she was small, and slight but that woman had held the throne together against near-impossible odds and almost insurmountable difficulties... surely a few months more, backed by the very real threat of official reprisal should any in the court offer her harm, would be no great difficulty for her.
:She may even like it,: Gyousou thought with a small wince.
She had not wanted to bow her head to anyone, not even him, and at the time it seemed like a small concession to make, so he had granted it, and then she'd still rebuked him for not asking her first.
:But most likely she views them as two separate issues,: he admitted. :Which in essence I suppose they are. It seems that Lady Yuka is not someone who can be judged by the same standards as my former wife Isana.:
They were apples and pomegranates. Yes, both of them were fruit, but so different were their natures that there their similarities ended. Isana had been of a soft and yielding femininity, Yuka only gave off the appearance of being soft, but was truly as unbending as a sword of finest steel beneath that act of sweet femininity she used to lure the unsuspecting off their guard. It seemed strange and slightly treasonous to compare the two women, even in the privacy of his own thoughts. He had thought that for all the rest of his life he would never find another woman to compare to his wife's memory in his heart.
He had just met the girl a few days ago and already she'd found ways to get under his skin, and it irritated him even more that she didn't seem to care in the least that she was there at all. She conversed politely enough with him, helped out where she felt she was needed, but made it abundantly clear that she had no intention of sticking around once her duty to help Taiki was done. He had even been privately in agreement (just a little) with Risai's indignant reaction over the fact that the Royal Consort had plans to abandon her post at the very earliest opportunity.
:I can't truly blame her, she's worked hard. At the same time... it stings,: he admitted to himself.
The office was too small for pacing so he removed himself from it to the room down the hall a little. The old king had used it for entertainment, which he had done a great deal of. It was large enough to support a full complement of musicians, there was a wide space for formal dance all to the fore of a long table. Gyousou had not found much in the way of real use for the room so when he had taken the throne it was one of the ones he had ordered closed off. When he turned to step into it, he paused at the threshold, frozen in surprise.
:This palace had remained untouched and unchanged for many centuries, I sleep for a few decades and they change everything!: he marveled to himself at the sight that greeted him.
The room that now greeted him had been made to look like a deep forest grotto had formed somehow in the depths of a cave. The ceiling had been made to look like it was frmed of natural rock with holes in it to let the light shine in (to keep the plants alive). The sunlight filtered through the weeping trees that drooped their leafy branches into a series of small pools with lotus flowers covering much of the surface. Interspersed through the artistically grown and arranged gardens were small galeries of artwork, paintings and drawings that seemed to grow organically out of the miniature indoor wilderness.
:The old kings gaudy monstrosities in the pavilions would have cost a hundred times more to build and were not half so lovely to look at,: Gyousou thought to himself.
His gaze was caught by a painting that looked so real, so life-like it was almost like looking through a window. It was a picture of the wide front steps of the palace, (he could tell it was that place in particular because the slanted middle pannels with it's bas-relif dragons carved out of the marble and inlaid in gold and precious gems was depicted in startling detail in the background). Soft daylight shone down on the scene, picking out the colors of clothes and jewels and making the people depicted in the frame seem to glow with inner luminance. In it, the girl was dressed in the finest multi-layered daxiushan. The zhongyi, or under-robe, was sleeveless sort that was tied under the breasts with a narrow gold ribbon. The skirt was unusual in that the color in it lightened from pale white-gold at "collar," which was a band just above her breasts to dark bronze at the bottom hem, as though it had soaked up water. The shenyi she wore over it was a sheer white-gold color with gold embroidery. She wore minimal jewelry besides a small ceremonial head-peice and hairpins that glinted in the light and a polite smile on her face that was as serene as a depiction of the the Seioubo. She was bowing as if she were a demure housewife welcoming a visitor to her home. The foreground showed the backs of four province lords wearing full armor, presumably having brought their armies with them. In the background further up the steps was a feasting table arrayed with four places. He had heard the scene mentioned briefly in a report earlier. The picture of it said far more.
:It must have taken such strength, to treat ones enemies as though they were conferring a favor by their visit, to trust in ones patience and intelligence and endure it because there are no other options open until you make an opportunity for yourself.: he thought, gazing at this scene from the history he had missed while sleeping, and wondering to himself what it must have been like to be part of it.
Gyousou would have met them with a sword, rather than a smile, but he was accustomed to leading armies. Taiki had depicted very clearly that armies were not something that they'd had at the time. To handle an insurrection like this took a will that would put swords to shame.
:The appearance of softness, but not soft at all, unless one counts the fact that she let Asen live.:
The picture beside it was a rougher charcoal drawing of those same four lords and the Lady Yuka later. Three of them were dead on the floor and the artist had chosen to capture her mid-kill-strike on the last.
Gyousou paced around a bit more, looking at the other pictures hung in the gallery. Many of them were of him and it wasn't until he saw a portrait of himself done on mt Hou shortly before he ascended the throne that he realized that the painter must be Taiki.
"Truly, he is a wonderful kirin," Gyousou mused as he examined the incredible detail on one of the paintings more closely. "I have never heard of any other kingdom's kirin being so talented."
And he had tamed a toutetsu as well. If any kirin would have been able to hold the throne together, it was the legendary koki, the black kirin. However, Taiki's great strength and talent was weighted by his lack of confidence in himself and his propensity for caring too deeply what others thought about him. Isana had had much the same difficulties, she had been so devoted to others around her that she always put their opinions above her own. Her softness and empathy had been part of her appeal, but Gyousou had often had to help her out of near-crippling bouts of depression. With her frail beauty and fragile strength, Isana had come to embody everything he desired to be strong enough to protect.
:Instead I let her down, just as I let Taiki down, and everyone,: he thought. His emotions were bordering on uncharacteristic moroseness for him, but seeing a moment of all that he had missed captured in almost living clarity for him had served to truly bring to his attention just how very much he had missed in the time he'd been bound in slumber. Fifty years and a kingdom had all but moved on without him, it seemed.
He wasn't even certain he could ever be able to make up for his failures. Even if he had fought him then, Gyousou had still allowed a man like Asen to ruin his kingdom. He had failed in that, just as he had failed to protect Taiki and his wife.
He had loved her dearly, and he knew that she had loved him, but he now wondered if their love would have been enough to make it through his being chosen to be king. She had been a truly wonderful and giving woman, but there was no doubt that she had been frail. Her fragility could not have withstood the pressures that being Royal Consort would have put on her. The mess that Asen had left would have shattered her, for she had relied greatly on his strength to help her endure; if Gyousou had not been there for her there would have been nothing left to wake up to.
He looked down again at the two pictures of how the Lady Yuka had handled four troublesome warlords walking into her castle and refusing to leave. Isana would have hidden herself in her room. Certainly she would have lacked the strength to rule beside Taiki, to prop up the throne until the day her husband could reawaken. The fact that he knew this, simply saddened him further. It was bad enough that Yuka was necessary at all, it was even worse, in his mind, that she was precisely the Royal Consort that Tai had needed, instead of the giving tenderness of his former beloved.
:In a different time and a different place, Isana would have been the model of a Royal Consort, held up to all as a fine example of what a woman should be. But I suppose, in her own way, the Lady Yuka is as fine an example as Isana might have been.:
She was more along the lines of a strong right arm, but right then, she was what was needed. Gyousou would heal this kingdom and redeem himself. He would allow no other outcome save that one. Until that day, he would use whatever tools or weapons came to hand, however reluctant they might be.