The Traitor Emperor

It’s almost time.

I will finally have my revenge. Akimitsu promised himself. He would kill the Emperor if it was the last thing he did. When the clock struck twelve, he would finally avenge his whole family. 

Tying his long black hair up with a piece of leather, Akimi prepared himself to go see the king. Every day, without fail, a different servant was to bring him tea in his chambers at exactly 11:55, after he finished his sword training and bathed. Today, it was finally his turn. He’d been in the palace for over four years, watching, training, and climbing his way up the ladder. The Emperor was incredibly paranoid, and only allowed the top most servants to attend to him. Even then, it was a different one every day. The entire palace was crawling with guards, and the Emperor himself was a swordmaster. Once the Emperor was dead, Akimi wouldn’t be leaving alive.

He was fine with that. He had been preparing himself for this moment from the day he’d heard that the traitor Emperor had had his entire family executed, even after they’d surrendered. The day the entire imperial family had been removed from the throne, except for Akimi, and been replaced with a traitor, and murderer.

Akimi quickly checked his makeup in a small mirror, making sure he looked absolutely nothing like Yamato Akimitsu, the third born son of the imperial family, out of four sons and three daughters.

The lower servants, such as the maids, and the cooks,  all shared several chambers scattered around the palace. The head servants, like Akimi, had their own, albeit small, rooms. Akimi never had to worry about being recognized, because along with all the makeup, all of the Arya family’s original servants had been sacked, and been replaced with complete strangers.

Akimi’s heart twinged as he recalled the head cook, Isamu, who had always kept a plate of pastries on the counter by the kitchen door because he knew that Akimi would wake up in the middle of the night and come down for a snack. When they were younger, his eldest sister, Yosano, would dress him up in her dresses, do his makeup and hair, and parade him throught the palace. She was the one who’d taught him how to use makeup, and to make himself look completely different.

Akimi had been the second youngest in the family, merely sixteen years old, when the son of a trusted general who had died on the battlefield many years before, staged a coup to overthrow the royal family. Akimi hadn’t been in the country at the time. His parents had sent him to an overseas school that he had been attending for several years, so that he could have a more diverse education. All of his siblings had been sent at some point in their lives.

Grabbing the tiny packet of poison he’d prepared, Akimi stuffed it into his pocket and made his way to the kitchens. 

“Riku-san!” The head of the kitchens, Kaneko Hanna, hurried over to him, a tray with a kettle of tea and a cup on it in her hands. “You're just in time, hurry and get this to the Emperor, but don’t drop it!” With that, she bobbed away, quickly getting back to whatever she’d been doing. 

Akimi took a deep breath, gingerly holding the beautiful silver tray that was heavier than it looked. There were several guards lining the halls, so he wouldn’t be able to put the poison in now. Akimi started to walk, knowing the way to the Emperor’s chambers by heart. He’d been there so many times before his life had changed. Afterwards, he’d only been there five times, after he’d gained the traitor king’s trust.

Stopping in front of a beautifully engraved wooden door, Akimi waited for the guards to open it and let him in. One guard sniffed at the tea, while the other patted him down carefully. Akimi had known this was going to happen of course, which was why he was using an incredibly thin packet with a tiny dose of an incredibly lethal poison, which was tucked into an inner pocket. The guards were experts, but even they weren’t going to make him disrobe, and then check all his clothes. There were more guards inside the tower, and anyway, so far, somehow, no one had tried to kill the Emperor yet. Even the most vigilent of guards was going to get bored, and the tiniest bit careless.

Finally, Akimi was let through the door, where a very thin winding staircase awaited him. Making sure the door was closed, as Akimi walked up the stairs, he quickly took out the packet, tore it open, and poured it into the tea kettle, swirling it around a bit so it would mix. Akimi knew he had a bit of time before he was in view of the guards that were posted in front of the Emperor’s chambers, so he made sure to be as careful as possible.

Once he finished, he tucked the packet back into his inner pocket just as he came into view of the guards. Once again, he was patted down, and this time, one of the guards took a cup, and tasted the tea. Akimi wasn’t worried. This was a very unique poison, one that wouldn’t become lethal until it had dissolved in liquid for exactly two minutes. So long as the tea was drunk two minutes after the poison had been mixed into the tea, it would do absolutely nothing to the recipient.

The guard swallowed the tea, waited a bit, and then with a nod, let Akimi pass through. As the door opened, Akimi felt a shiver down his spine. The moment he had been waiting for for so long was almost here. 

Akimi walked into the room, its simplicity the same as when this palace had belonged to his father, other than a piece of calligraphy hanging on the wall. And there he was. The traitor king kneeled facing away from the door, at a small table in the center of the room. His hair was a stunning white-gold color, a rarity in their kingdom, and any other. 

Calming his heart down, Akimi took small steps towards where the king was sitting, kneeling to the side of the table, averting his eyes as he placed the tray onto the table, and then bowed. “Your Excellency.” 

The traitor Emperor didn’t look at him, idly waving a hand in his direction, and continuing to pore over what looked like military documents. Of course he wouldn’t, a mere servant wasn’t enough to warrant a glance. Akimi picked up the kettle, and carefully poured a cup, then with another bow, offered it to the king. He would have to hold that position until the Emperor finally deigned to take it from him. 

He didn’t have to wait long. As the cup was lifted from his hands, he straightened back up, keeping his head down, eyes averted, expressionless. His eyes were still on the floor as the Emperor took a sip, put the cup down, and spoke. “Not bad. What kind of poison did you use, Kimi-kun?”

His head snapped up, and his eyes met the traitor king’s bright blue ones. Fuyuki smiled at him, a familiar smile, one that he had adored since childhood. “Come now, Kimi-kun, where are your manners? Is that anyway to greet an old friend?”