Caught

25.

"You're... amazing," I let out without thinking.

He smiled and gave me a quick kiss on the nose.

"Not many people would agree with you."

"Because they don't know you like I do."

Perhaps no one knew him like I did. He must have trusted me a great deal to let me get so close to him. Maybe he didn't want to, he just couldn't resist the force, fate or chance, that had tangled our lives so tightly together.

I studied Shira's face, the familiar lines, the curve of his mouth, the blue-grey eyes. Only one little flaw marred those beautiful, symmetrical features. My fingers touched a small scar.

"Where did you get that?"

I'd asked him about it once before, in prison. He'd avoided answering then. This time he hesitated too, his hand touching the spot above the right eyebrow. 

There was a silence for a while.

I didn't expect him to answer, knowing how much he hated sharing personal information about himself.

"I got this scar from my father," he said finally.

"You weren't quick enough?" I repeated the words he had used that day in the cell.

"Exactly," a brief smile broke his suddenly serious expression.

"My father trained me in combat, wanting to pass on everything he knew to his son. He lectured on strategy, history, different tactics in battle. He was a great teacher, but very strict. As a former soldier, he demanded absolute discipline and obedience," Shira sighed, rolling onto his back. "And for a small boy it was sometimes too much."

I was surprised, he never talked about himself.

"Who was your father?" I tried my luck and inquired further.

I half expected the moment of sharing to be over and I would get nothing more from him.

Shira didn't move, just lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"You may have heard of him. His name was Izumi Rei."

I couldn't hide my shock. I knew that name. Of course, I knew it. Everyone knew it.

Izumi Rei was a famous military leader. He was said to be an excellent warrior, a brilliant strategist and a feared enemy. He was also a personal friend of the old Emperor. Until he fell out of favour. No one could say exactly what happened, but there were rumours that it had something to do with a girl.

"Izumi Rei," I repeated the name with awe in my voice.

I glanced at Shira, searching his face for any resemblance to the man whose image I knew from books and battle footage.

"What happened with him?"

"My father loved one of the Emperor's girls. They had an affair and they were found out. The woman, my mother, was the Emperor's favourite. The lord was furious and ordered them both executed. They managed to escape, but my father lost everything. My parents had to hide for a long time. Only when the old Emperor died did the search end."

The fact that he told me this only confirmed my impression of how much he trusted me. The Emperor himself probably had no idea whose son was killing for him.

I'd already guessed that Shira must come from one of the old island families. If nothing else, the deadly heirloom that now lay innocently in its polished sheath beside the bed was proof enough.

My family also belonged to the privileged ones, and I myself had the 'right lineage' to follow in the footsteps of my father, an Imperial officer who died heroically defending our country. But I disgraced his memory and joined the enemy.