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sub_dividedDon't ask me how long this took. Just...don't ask.
When Seiran was a prince, he learned to wake up early, when it was still dark. He dressed himself as silently as he could, straining not to wake his mother. Though she loved to sleep through the morning, and was furious when he disturbed her, his mother was a light sleeper. Any movement, even a sigh, could wake her. Seien, too, was a light sleeper. Restless nights were one of the few things they had in common; both of them slept more soundly alone. Despite this, his mother insisted that they share a bed, so that the emperor could not call on her without first sending him away.
Each morning, Seien slipped out of the room and made his way through the dew to the observatory, where the royal astronomer waited with drowsing eyes to instruct the most promising of the imperial princes in mathematics, timekeeping, and divination. Always considerate, Prince Seien covered his instructor's yawns with his own, to preserve the man's dignity. His progress was so rapid that by the time he was nine years old the two of them had become used to working out the calendar together. Seien could predict floods, earthquakes, and eclipses; he knew the names of all the constellations and could figure the hour by the angle of a particular star.
Tonight Seiran put his lessons to good use: staring up at the night sky through the branches of a cherry tree, he determined exactly how long they had before the palace guard changed and they were discovered on the grass outside the imperial quarters. It amused him to imagine the probable reaction of the royal astronomer, a somber and, indeed, grim old man, should he ever learn to what ends his best pupil had thought to apply his instruction.
"Stop smiling," Ensei said. "It's creepy."
Seiran smiled wider. "No," he said.
Ensei rolled his eyes and then rolled away. "Your personality is terrible," he said, sounding both disgusted and fond.
Seiran brought a hand up to trace circles over Ensei's back. "I know," he said.
I'm so rusty. This was supposed to be funny! It wasn't supposed to be angsty.
Seriously though, you know the first thing Seiran thinks when he gets out of bed in the morning is: Today I am going to use my inhuman sword skills to cut vegetables! Later I might put my incomparable grace and comportment to use bargaining for a lower price at the tofu stand.
And then he giggles, but only if no one is around to hear him (except Ensei; Ensei doesn't count).
When Seiran was a prince, he learned to wake up early, when it was still dark. He dressed himself as silently as he could, straining not to wake his mother. Though she loved to sleep through the morning, and was furious when he disturbed her, his mother was a light sleeper. Any movement, even a sigh, could wake her. Seien, too, was a light sleeper. Restless nights were one of the few things they had in common; both of them slept more soundly alone. Despite this, his mother insisted that they share a bed, so that the emperor could not call on her without first sending him away.
Each morning, Seien slipped out of the room and made his way through the dew to the observatory, where the royal astronomer waited with drowsing eyes to instruct the most promising of the imperial princes in mathematics, timekeeping, and divination. Always considerate, Prince Seien covered his instructor's yawns with his own, to preserve the man's dignity. His progress was so rapid that by the time he was nine years old the two of them had become used to working out the calendar together. Seien could predict floods, earthquakes, and eclipses; he knew the names of all the constellations and could figure the hour by the angle of a particular star.
Tonight Seiran put his lessons to good use: staring up at the night sky through the branches of a cherry tree, he determined exactly how long they had before the palace guard changed and they were discovered on the grass outside the imperial quarters. It amused him to imagine the probable reaction of the royal astronomer, a somber and, indeed, grim old man, should he ever learn to what ends his best pupil had thought to apply his instruction.
"Stop smiling," Ensei said. "It's creepy."
Seiran smiled wider. "No," he said.
Ensei rolled his eyes and then rolled away. "Your personality is terrible," he said, sounding both disgusted and fond.
Seiran brought a hand up to trace circles over Ensei's back. "I know," he said.
I'm so rusty. This was supposed to be funny! It wasn't supposed to be angsty.
Seriously though, you know the first thing Seiran thinks when he gets out of bed in the morning is: Today I am going to use my inhuman sword skills to cut vegetables! Later I might put my incomparable grace and comportment to use bargaining for a lower price at the tofu stand.
And then he giggles, but only if no one is around to hear him (except Ensei; Ensei doesn't count).