Volume 8, Chapter 15: The Man Called Gyoku’ou (1/2)
Rikuson glided a quill pen across the parchment. How many shorthand cursive signatures has it been? Occasionally, he would compare it against the first signature he wrote to check whether its shape has changed.
As he only ever affixed seals when he had been in the capital, his hand was never this tired. While shaking his wrist every now and then, he checked the documents.
“Rikuson-sama. This one please.”
A civil official brought in new documents. This official had come here five times in total, and owing to his near-perfect accent, seemed like he hailed from Kaou Province. His earlobes were large–a shape that invites good fortune. As if he frequently carried loads on his right side, his right shoulder was slanted downwards.
“Thank you. Then, these ones,” Rikuson said.
“Certainly,” the civil official replied.
The documents passed to him could be described as odd jobs. At the very least, the lord of this domain perceived them as so.
The majority of Seii Province’s population were concentrated in the towns along the trade route that linked east with west.
The odd jobs, as they were called here, were complaints from residents of the land that were distanced from these trade routes. Rather than towns, were they more villages or settlements? It was mostly pasturage or cultivators of dried produce like grape. These odd jobs were on wanting to build waterways for irrigation, night burglars frequently stealing livestock, things like that.
“Hahaha.” Rikuson laughed despite himself.
The civil official looked at Rikuson dubiously on his way out.
Has it been over half a year since he was called over from the imperial capital to the western capital? Rikuson had come here officially on the grounds that they wanted a person who understood the government of the capital, but he was only ever given odd jobs. Was his workload increasing be what has changed since the beginning?
“It doesn’t look like they trust me,” Rikuson spoke to himself in the office that he was provided.
While moving his right hand that was gradually getting wrist strain, he checked the documents.
Even Rikuson could see the trends when he saw the bulky documents every day. Excepting remembering people’s faces, he wanted to believe he had some special skill.
“I give proper reports though.”
Gyoku’ou was the one who allocated his work. If Rikuson doesn’t report what he noticed, there was a chance that once something careless happens, he would get his tail cut.
Is that why Rikuson was purposely called over? He had his suspicions.
Gyoku’ou. The current temporary lord of the western capital. Being the eldest son, if Gyoku’en didn’t return from the central region, he was next in power.
“Excuse me.”
Once again, another civil official brought in documents. This time, it wasn’t an addition to the paperwork, but the return of the documents Rikuson had addressed to the higher-ups. Rikuson had only met him twice, as the civil official worked directly under Gyoku’ou. The first time was when Rikuson travelled to the west last year, and the second time he passed by the civil official was while he was on his way to greet Gyoku’ou.
“I’m returning this,” the civil official said.
There was nothing written on the documents. Not even a signature or a seal.
“This means unauthorised, yes?” Rikuson asked.
“Yes. Certainly, it might be needed, but there is more important work. He said to do it in order of priority,” the civil official said plainly.
As the corners of Rikuson’s lips rose, he put the returned document in the drawer.
“And one more thing,” the civil official said.
“What is it?”
“A summon from Gyoku’ou-sama. Not right now, but how about a tea party once official duties end in the afternoon?”
It was phrased as a question, but Rikuson had no way of turning it down. “Certainly. Is it okay if I go to the gazebo in the courtyard before the afternoon bell?”
“Yes.” The civil official left with a cool expression.
It was the place where Gyoku’ou always held his tea parties. It was near an oasis, a location cooler than anywhere else. Rikuson knew very well as insect repellent incense is lit from the morning the tea party is held.
The man called Gyoku’ou isn’t incompetent. Being the child of an influential man, he received a steady education. Even Rikuson was well-aware of Gyoku’ou’s passion to try to develop the western capital, perhaps due to the influence of Gyoku’en who was once a merchant,
His eyes were unchanged from his youth, possessing aspirations that resembled ambition.
Perhaps for that, Rikuson even sensed danger from them.
“…is this also under my jurisdiction?”
Rikuson had secluded himself in the office often, so his conversations with people had deceased. His developing a habit of muttering to himself was inevitable.
“I want to talk to people more often.”
His special skill of remembering people’s faces was also his interest. Being unable to ever forget a face he saw before, meant that he got tired of seeing the same faces all the time.
What had appeared was a bill for accessories of silk and jewels. Being a trading post, the price was no doubt a lot cheaper than buying in the capital, but still, the order of magnitude was different. He could easily surmise what it was used for.
When Rikuson just arrived in the west, he had walked past a woman. Around fifteen or sixteen years old, a girl whose atmosphere resembled Empress Gyokuyou.
When he asked the official who guided him around, he was told she is Gyoku’ou’s daughter.
There’s no resemblance though, the official had whispered, but it might have been wise to say nothing more.
“He truly is ambitions.” Rikuson’s lips quirked up and he glided the pen again.
.
.
.
The gentleman with thick black hair, aside from his tanned skin, had a face and figure that was rarely seen among the residents of the western capital. Although he had some deep lines, his face was stereotypical of Rii. His hair was straight, a relatively round face, and his body figure looked more slender than the average person in the western capital.
Speaking of who, before Rikuson was the man called Gyoku’ou.