Chapter 27: Preparations

In the quiet of his administrative office, Emperor Masaki sat at his desk, the weight of the upcoming Black Princess Consort selection heavy on his shoulders. He had just finalized the necessary documents for the event, signing them with a steady hand. The location of the contest would be held at the Black Tortoise Palace, a place symbolically tied to the position of the Black Princess. Whoever emerged victorious would not only gain the title but would also take ownership of the Black Tortoise Palace itself. 

Though the officials had yet to make any concrete decisions, the recent vote to hold a contest between the three candidates was a significant step forward. The officials, wary of a repeat of the Subspace Kidnappings, were taking extra precautions for security. They couldn't afford another disaster like that, especially with tensions rising around this event. The Emperor's thoughts wandered briefly to that tragic day, and the figure that remained in his mind was none other than his second son, Rin. 

Rin—no longer a prince in the eyes of the empire, now living the life of a commoner—had been the hero of the Subspace Kidnappings. Bloodied, injured, and exhausted, he had emerged as a savior, quietly saving countless lives without anyone ever knowing his true identity. The image of his son, selflessly risking everything to protect the people, still burned in Masaki's memory. And even after everything, Rin had not sought recognition or accolades. His only concern had been the safety of those around him. 

Masaki let out a quiet breath, running a hand over his face. *If only Rin could see that his actions meant something more than just a small gesture...* But the truth was, Masaki had always known his son's capacity for greatness, even if Rin himself would never admit it. 

As Masaki continued to prepare for the Black Princess selection, his thoughts shifted to the three candidates. Among them, Urakawa Miharu stood out—not only because she had been handpicked by Rin, but because of her exceptional talent, something the Emperor couldn't easily ignore. Despite his personal bias, he knew better than to let it cloud his judgment. The decision would be left to the judges—his four wives. 

These four women, once the consorts of the holy palaces, were trusted with the responsibility of choosing the next Black Princess. They had been sent letters via a highly secretive communication device, the Telegram, a creation of Rin himself. This device allowed the Imperial Family to communicate quickly and securely, far faster than the old methods of sending letters. It was a brilliant invention, and Masaki couldn't help but feel a surge of pride for his son, even if he chose to live as a commoner. 

The Telegram had ensured that the four wives, currently stationed in foreign lands on diplomatic missions, received the news in a timely manner. They were the ones who would make the ultimate decision, but Masaki knew that this contest would be far from simple. The selection would determine not only the future of the Black Princess but also how the empire viewed its own future. 

The Emperor sat back in his chair, hands steepled in thought. *Whoever wins will shape the destiny of the Black Tortoise Palace. And the future of this empire...* His gaze shifted to the sealed letters on his desk—each containing the fateful message for his four wives. He would await their responses, knowing that this was a crucial moment for the empire. 

Masaki's thoughts turned back to Rin—his unpredictable second son, the one who had once been destined to rule the empire, yet now remained in the shadows, his identity obscured. Rin had always seemed to be on the fringes, even as a child, but his actions spoke volumes. The Emperor couldn't help but feel that his son's influence—though subtle—would have a profound effect on the empire in the coming years. 

*If Rin's chosen candidate succeeds, then perhaps the empire itself will see a new era, one that transcends the old ways and embraces a more dynamic future...* Masaki's fingers tapped gently on the desk as he continued to ponder what the future would hold. 

For now, however, his thoughts were focused on the contest. The time for deliberation was almost over.

The alley was quiet, save for the soft shuffle of footsteps on cobblestone. The air was damp with the remnants of a recent rain, a mist lingering in the corners of the narrow street. Two hooded figures met in the shadows, their silhouettes barely visible against the backdrop of darkened buildings.

One figure, tall and agile, moved with the practiced fluidity of an assassin. Every step was precise, every motion calculated. The hood of their cloak barely lifted, revealing only the glint of eyes that seemed to assess everything with a cold detachment. The other figure, smaller and more hesitant, fumbled with a small pouch in their hands, an amateur trying to mask the nervous tremor that betrayed their inexperience.

The assassin's voice, low and controlled, cut through the silence. "You want her out of the contest? Simple. But I'll need more than this."

The client shifted uncomfortably, glancing around nervously as if expecting someone to appear from the shadows. "I understand. This is only a down payment," they murmured, handing over the small pouch. "The rest will come once the job is done. The Black Princess Position is too important for us to let that girl win."

The assassin examined the pouch, shaking it lightly to hear the distinct sound of gold coins inside. They didn't need to open it to know it was enough to cover the initial stages. Their lips curled into a faint smirk as they looked up. "I don't care for the politics behind this. I just care about the job. Get it done, and you'll have your results."

Without another word, the two exchanged a brief nod. The client quickly disappeared into the shadows, disappearing as quietly as they had appeared. The assassin, however, remained for a moment longer, the weight of the pouch in their hands a silent reminder of the task ahead.

This was no ordinary job. Miharu had been chosen for something far bigger than she could imagine, and there were forces at work now trying to ensure she would never make it to the contest. But the assassin wasn't concerned with the reasons—only with the job and the gold that would follow.

They disappeared into the night, already calculating the steps needed to disrupt the Black Princess's Candidate's path to victory.

Miharu paused for a moment as Rin's voice cut through her focus. She looked down at the tea set in her hands, the delicate porcelain cups slightly trembling as her fingers tightened around them. Her previous mistake, pouring too much tea into one cup, was still fresh in her mind. Rin's gaze on her was sharp, and she felt a sudden weight of his observation, like he could see through every hesitation she had.

"Something is bothering you, Miharu. I can tell," Rin said, his voice smooth, yet carrying an underlying firmness. He wasn't the type to leave things unsaid, especially when it came to something he was invested in.

Miharu's eyes flickered for a moment, glancing away from him. She had hoped to keep it to herself, to bury the uncertainty gnawing at her from within. The truth was, the idea of the Black Princess position was becoming too heavy for her to bear. The more she tried to convince herself it was a path she could follow, the more the reality of it seemed to slip through her fingers, like trying to hold water in an open palm.

"I... I just don't understand why I have to become the Black Princess," she said softly, almost as if whispering the words to herself. "I've trained all this time, and I thought it was just about becoming better, about being a good apprentice... But now it feels like something's being taken from me."

Her voice wavered as she spoke, the cracks in her composure slowly becoming visible. Rin could always read her better than anyone. She had hoped that perhaps he wouldn't notice, or that he would simply brush off her hesitance. But it seemed he understood her struggle far better than she had anticipated.

She continued, her tone a little more desperate this time, "I'm scared, Rin. Scared that if I take that position, I'll lose everything I've come to care about here... with you, with Harumi… It's like I'll be leaving everything behind for something that feels so... distant. I never asked for this. Why does it have to be me?"

Rin's gaze softened as he watched her, sensing the deeper conflict within her—something far beyond her performance in the tea ceremony or her ability to recite the laws of the empire. It was the fear of losing the connection to the people she cared about, the fear of stepping into a role that she felt unprepared for, even though she had the potential for greatness.

For a moment, Rin said nothing. He understood her fear, her hesitation. He knew it wasn't about the Black Princess position itself—it was about what it represented. The loss of a life she had found peace in, the life she had built within the White Flower Palace, the place where she had trained and formed bonds with those who mattered most to her.

Miharu couldn't keep her uncertainty from Rin any longer, and as the words left her lips, the weight of her fear seemed to lift, even if just a little. "I don't want to lose my place here," she confessed, her voice trembling. "With you, with Harumi, with everyone. The White Flower Palace... it's become everything to me."

She half-expected Rin to look at her with disappointment, but instead, he smiled at her—soft and reassuring. "Then we can refuse, if you win," he said with a calm, almost carefree tone. "The White Palace just gave you a chance to show your talents. I'm sure the Emperor will understand."

Miharu froze, the words sinking in slowly. Her heart skipped a beat as the reality of what Rin was saying dawned on her. No one, she knew, could refuse the Emperor. The power he held over the empire was absolute, unyielding. Yet Rin spoke of it so casually, with a kind smile that almost made her question how someone so nonchalant could defy the most powerful man in the land.

"You don't need to win, Miharu," Rin continued, his voice carrying a warmth that contrasted with the gravity of his words. "I believe that showcasing your talent will earn you a place. But remember, none of us can stay in the White Flower Palace forever. This includes me, Harumi... and you. One day, the White Elder will pass, and what will you do then?"

His words hit her harder than she expected. The truth of it was unavoidable, and her grip on the tea set tightened once more, the weight of the future pressing down on her.

Miharu's heart sank as Rin's words cut through her, sharper than she had anticipated. "Me and Harumi will probably have other jobs lined up," Rin continued, his tone firm, but not unkind. "But you still need to prove yourself, Miharu. Your name, Urakawa, is... burdensome. I could count on one hand how many will accept you, and it isn't that many."

His words were harsh, but there was a truth in them that Miharu couldn't deny. The weight of her family's name had always followed her, like a shadow that she couldn't outrun. It wasn't the first time she had heard this, but hearing it from Rin—someone she trusted—struck a deeper chord.

"As your senior," Rin added, his gaze steady but full of meaning, "I want to give you the chance to find more opportunities when that moment comes. A chance to prove that you're more than just a name. That you have the strength and the skill to stand on your own, to carve a path beyond what people expect of you."

Miharu swallowed hard, feeling the pressure of his words settle in her chest. It wasn't just about her future in the White Flower Palace anymore—it was about something much larger, about her ability to thrive in a world that hadn't always been kind to her.

Rin's voice grew even more serious, the weight of his words unmistakable. "So, if you don't want to become the Black Princess, then just do your best to make people throw away their fear of the name you carry."

Miharu blinked, stunned by the simplicity and clarity of his statement. It wasn't about changing who she was or pretending to be someone else. It was about overcoming the weight of her heritage, proving that her worth wasn't tied to the expectations placed on her by her family's name.

"Show them who you really are, Miharu," Rin continued, his tone resolute. "Let your talent speak for itself. That's the only way to truly escape the shadow of your name."

Miharu felt a spark of determination light within her, a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward without sacrificing everything she feared losing.

Miharu took a deep breath, the weight in her chest lifting as clarity began to settle in. She realized then that she had been thinking too small, too narrowly. The person in front of her, Rin, wasn't focused on the immediate, on the contest or the title of Black Princess—he was thinking about her future. Whether she became the Black Princess or not wasn't the real issue. What mattered was her potential, her ability to rise above the burdens of her name and the expectations tied to it. She could stay in the White Flower Palace if she wanted, carve out a future for herself here.

Miharu looked at Rin, her gaze steady now. "Teach me everything," she said, her voice filled with newfound resolve. "I'll do whatever it takes."

Rin's smile returned, soft and encouraging, a silent promise that he would help her on this path. "I'll teach you what you need to know," he said, his eyes filled with a quiet confidence. "The rest is up to you."

With that, Miharu felt a surge of determination, as though a door had opened before her, leading to a future she could now shape for herself, with Rin's guidance by her side.