The Hoshimi Empire was bustling.
Preparations had begun across the capital for the upcoming Year-End Celebration. Lanterns were being strung across courtyards, stalls were being erected, and nobles and commoners alike were swept up in the cheerful tide of anticipation. Ministers and officials hurried through corridors, carrying scrolls and decorations, issuing orders as the festival spirit surged to life.
Inside the Imperial Palace, within the private meeting chamber of the Hoshimi Family, a more intimate discussion was underway.
The four Imperial siblings had already received their duties for the week and been dismissed—Izumi grumbling about logistics, Aya sneaking an extra pastry, Kazuo nodding calmly, and Rin… quiet as always.
Now, the Four Consorts stood in the chamber before the Four Empresses, each woman bowing respectfully.
Takigawa Rei stood proud and confident.
Urakawa Miharu bowed with subtle grace.
Shinegori Akane lowered her head in perfect etiquette.
Chinen Suzuki offered a soft, elegant curtsy.
The atmosphere was cordial but firm.
White Empress Asami took the lead, voice calm. "The Year-End Celebration approaches. You'll each be involved in overseeing separate ceremonies during the event—your roles will be discreet, as expected."
Vermillion Empress Hikari, arms crossed, added with a smirk, "No dueling this time, Rei."
"I didn't even draw my blade last year," Rei muttered, earning a side glance from Akane.
Black Empress Minako's gaze flickered from one consort to another. "No public declarations. No overt gestures. You remain privately Rin's consorts. We are not inviting another scandal."
Azure Empress Nao nodded in agreement. "Behave accordingly. At least in public."
The four consorts accepted the commands without protest, knowing full well the delicate web of secrecy surrounding their engagement to Rin.
But amidst the orders and logistics, none of them mentioned the quiet truth hiding within the celebration:
It was also Hoshimi Rin's birthday.
A detail Rin had never once brought up.
He had never announced it, never requested anything. Even before choosing the life of a commoner, Rin had always treated it as just another day. The Imperial Family used to hold formal banquets, but Rin never took the initiative to invite anyone, never sought celebration.
To him, it was simply… life.
Another step forward.
And yet, that made it all the more important to those who loved him.
The Empresses knew this.
And so did the consorts.
As the meeting ended, the four women bowed once more before being dismissed.
And deep within each of them, a quiet resolve stirred.
This year, even if he didn't ask—
They would make sure he was celebrated.
Whether the world knew it or not.
"I hate this…" someone groaned.
"I just want to sleep," another followed up, slumping over the table dramatically.
It was Aya, flopped across the scrolls like a lifeless doll. Izumi sat beside her, arms crossed, pouting in sync. Only Kazuo remained serene, sipping tea with his usual calm expression… though the twitch at his eye betrayed the pain of incoming logistics.
And in the center of it all stood Rin, unbothered, pointing at a chalkboard now half-filled with planning notes.
"Too bad. We've been given the main celebration venue. That means the Noble Quarter Pavilion. It's where most aristocrats, foreign envoys, and high-ranking officials will be gathering."
He turned to the others. "So, we need to secure supplies, coordinate entertainment, prepare security protocols, and write our speeches. The sooner we start, the better."
Aya groaned. "You sound like the Grand Prime Minister right now."
Izumi narrowed her eyes. "Why do we have to do all of this again?"
"Because," Rin said dryly, "we aren't delegating this. The Empresses want us involved directly this year. And honestly… I prefer it this way."
"Wait—no attendants?" Kazuo asked.
"Nope," Rin said. "We're going in disguise."
That made all three siblings blink.
Rin smirked, pulling out a small case with illusion talismans. "We're going to shop, order, scout, and prepare everything ourselves. That includes going into the markets, the performer circles, and even the taverns."
Aya suddenly sat up. "Wait. Disguises? You mean we can sneak around and mess with people?"
Rin gave her a look. "We're still working."
Izumi clapped her hands together. "Oho~ I see now. This is a real mission, huh?"
Kazuo gave a small sigh, though his eyes showed amusement. "I suppose it will be refreshing."
Aya's eyes locked with Izumi's. "Rin's definitely taking the most responsibility, right?"
Izumi grinned. "Obviously. He'll carry all the logistics."
Rin looked at them. "You just want to come with me so I cover for you."
"No we don't," Izumi said way too quickly.
Rin raised a brow.
Aya grinned. "Let's settle this the proper way!"
And like clockwork, both sisters stood, rolling up sleeves, hands ready.
"Rock, paper, scissors—"
"Shoot!"
Rin sighed as they fiercely clashed in best-of-three, like it was a sacred duel. Kazuo just watched, quietly sipping tea.
"…You know," Rin muttered, "you two are royalty. Dignified, graceful role models."
"Shhh, this is the real battle," Izumi whispered.
Aya grinned wide, holding up her winning hand. "Yes! I'm with Rin!"
Izumi scowled. "Rematch. That didn't count."
"Nope," Rin said, standing. "You two can rotate. We've got seven days."
Izumi sighed and flopped back into the chair. "Fine… but I get sweets later."
Kazuo finally stood. "I'll take the Southern District with a few guards tomorrow. That should leave the central Pavilion to you all."
As the planning continued, Rin glanced out the window at the bustling city preparing to celebrate—unaware that among the lanterns and music, a quiet plan was already forming.
One not for the nobles.
But for him.
Day 1: Poultry Farm
The air was thick—a pungent mixture of feathers, feed, and bird droppings.
Aya gagged.
"I hate this… I absolutely hate this," she mumbled, pulling her cloak tighter and trying not to breathe through her nose. "This isn't royal work. This is punishment."
Beside her, Rin adjusted the fake attendant cap on his head and looked completely unbothered. "Suck it up, attendant Aya. You lost the game. You came with me."
"You rigged it," she hissed, stepping around a suspicious puddle. "You knew Izumi always throws scissors first…"
Rin ignored her and crouched next to a crate of chickens, inspecting them with an experienced eye.
The poultry farmer bowed deeply. "We've loaded your order, Sir. That's 100 hens, 40 roosters, and 60 ducklings for the banquet. All properly fed and tagged."
Rin nodded. "Good. We'll inspect a few before shipment."
The farmer blinked. "You're going to check the birds personally?"
"Yes."
He turned to Aya. "And she will too."
Aya paled. "W-Wait, wait—me?"
Rin smirked. "Yup. You always said those inspection visits sounded boring. Now's your chance."
"But I'm wearing silk under this!"
"You wanted fun, right?"
Before Aya could protest, Rin handed her a chicken.
Aya stared at it. The chicken stared back, unimpressed.
"Why is it warm…?"
"Because it's alive, genius," Rin said, checking another one. "Look for mites, broken feathers, unusual breathing. This is part of quality control."
Aya hesitantly turned the chicken over, shrieking when it flapped its wings wildly.
"I changed my mind. I can't do this. I'm going to throw up."
Rin laughed. "Tough luck. This is what you used to prank attendants with, remember? Now it's your turn."
"You're the worst brother."
"And you're lucky I didn't make you shovel the coop."
Eventually, after a long, traumatic round of flapping wings and pecked fingers, Aya finally managed to inspect five chickens and sign off on the paperwork with a trembling hand.
As they watched the poultry crates get wheeled toward the chef's delivery area, Aya wiped her brow dramatically.
"…Okay. I get it," she muttered. "I won't make fun of poultry farmers ever again."
Rin smirked, hands behind his back. "Lesson learned?"
"Lesson learned. They're heroes. Smelly heroes."
He reached out and patted her head like a parent proud of his kid's first day at work.
Aya slapped his hand away. "Don't patronize me."
He laughed as they left the farm.
Just another step in a long week of disguises, duties… and for Rin, subtle chaos.
Day 2: Entertainment Undercover
Lively music echoed through the spacious hall of the Royal Performance Guild, where dancers, musicians, magicians, and illusionists rotated across the stage in quick succession. Applause rang out after each set—but none from the two disguised attendants in the front row.
Izumi leaned sideways, head nearly on Rin's shoulder. "Seven hours… Rin… my eyes are going numb."
"You've blinked at least eighty times in the last twenty minutes. That's some stamina," Rin replied dryly, flipping through the notes they'd taken so far.
Disguised in modest grey-blue attendant outfits, they were clearly attracting stares—but only because they hadn't moved in so long. Their job today wasn't just to approve or reject performances, but to consider every single factor involved in executing a flawless night.
"Pyrotechnics too close to the curtains. Dangerous," Rin muttered, jotting down a note. "Acrobats need reinforced rigging. Stage slightly tilted—fix the balance."
Izumi blinked slowly, rubbing her eyes. "Can I just say 'yes' to all the pretty ones and call it a day?"
"No."
She groaned. "I miss yelling at people to do this for me…"
"That's the point."
She puffed her cheeks like a sulking child, but Rin didn't let up. For every act that passed, they had to discuss lighting, spacing, risk of injury, audience reaction, duration, and even fire safety if the act involved flames or sparks.
"Hey, Rin," she said during a break, sipping on warm tea provided by the staff. "I think I finally understand. I've always thought the work behind these shows was just prep and applause. I didn't realize how much we take for granted."
Rin looked at her, then gave a small nod. "It's good to be reminded. Attendants deal with this often. They don't complain, but it doesn't mean it's easy."
Izumi sighed again. "I've been so selfish with them. Making last-minute changes, asking for impossible setups…"
"You can still be selfish," Rin said, surprisingly soft. "You just have to earn the right. And you have. You work hard. You treat them fairly. That's why they still respect you."
"…You're sweet sometimes, you know that?"
"I'm always sweet. You're just usually too annoying to notice."
Izumi laughed quietly, then straightened in her seat. "Fine. Let's finish this. And you promised I get to choose dinner after, right?"
"Yep. But if you pick that overly spicy lamb stew again, I'm walking out."
"Then you'll miss me making the chef add extra spice just for you~"
"…I regret this already."
And so, they returned to watching the next act—a sword-dancer twirling in perfect synchronization to the beat of enchanted drums—still tired, still drained, but just a bit more connected to the empire's heartbeat.
Day 3: Imperial Clothes Day
The grand tailoring house of the Silver Needle Pavilion was alive with motion. Renowned across the continent for its ceremonial masterpieces, it regularly welcomed nobles, foreign envoys, and court artists. But today, all attention was stolen by the appearance of two imperial figures walking side by side.
Hoshimi Kazuo, the Crown Prince, carried himself with effortless charm, nodding and smiling to those who bowed in reverence. Graceful, radiant, and perfectly composed—he was the Empire's ideal heir.
Beside him strode Hoshimi Rin, cloaked in a dark, understated robe. He walked with quiet poise, his presence subtle but magnetic—less sunlight, more moonlight.
"Honestly," Kazuo muttered with a well-rehearsed smile still plastered on his face, "I can't go anywhere without a parade forming behind me."
Rin arched a brow. "That might be because you're literally the Crown Prince."
Kazuo chuckled. "True, but between the two of us, you're the one who handles women better. Especially those four."
Rin gave him a flat look. "You do realize they were meant to be your consorts, right?"
Kazuo leaned closer, voice low but clearly audible to the ever-watchful shadow guards. "Which is why I'm thanking you, dear brother. You took four terrifyingly passionate women off my hands. A noble sacrifice."
Rin stopped in his tracks, staring at him in disbelief. "I was living as a commoner. I didn't even try to seduce them."
Kazuo smirked. "And yet they still fell. Destiny's funny that way."
Rin sighed. "Now I have to manage their rivalries, their affections, their expectations… It's exhausting."
Kazuo patted him on the back. "You're doing amazing, really. The way they light up when they so much as hear your name? Incredible."
Rin narrowed his eyes. "I'm not going to 'put my hands on them,' if that's what you're leading to."
"Oh, you will eventually," Kazuo said with a teasing grin. "You've got that look. The brooding, principled type. It drives them mad."
"I still have fate to deal with," Rin muttered, glancing at a tailor measuring his shoulders. "Not everyone gets to enjoy a predictable royal romance like you."
Kazuo tilted his head in mock sympathy. "If it's any consolation, that robe is going to make you look like an imperial heartbreaker. Try not to ruin too many noble daughters this year."
"I am not— What do you think I am?" Rin muttered, barely resisting the urge to facepalm.
Meanwhile, their shadow guards, stationed discreetly throughout the building, exchanged silent glances—clearly amused.
And so, amidst fluttering fabrics, gossiping tailors, and nobles stealing glances from behind veils, the two princes continued their task. Unaware that the threads of destiny—woven tighter with every step—were already beginning to shift.
As the two princes stepped out of the Silver Needle Pavilion, the late afternoon sun cast golden hues over the polished stone streets. The crowd had mostly dispersed, but a lingering noble lady—barely older than Izumi—approached timidly, her cheeks flushed with excitement.
"I-If I may," she stammered, eyes locked on Rin. "I… I fully support your love for the Saintess of Benevolence. I believe your bond is pure and beautiful!"
Rin blinked, then offered a warm, effortless smile. "Thank you. Saintess Elaine is… gentle. Kind. Someone who deserves to be protected."
His voice held just the right softness, his expression the perfect touch of melancholic admiration. The noble girl nearly melted on the spot, bowing before dashing off to whisper to her companions.
Kazuo stared, unimpressed. "You're dangerous when you do that, you know."
Rin shrugged. "We need the public to see Elaine as a symbol of purity. If she's loved, it'll be easier to draw her away from the corrupted doctrine. She wants to change it—and I have something she needs."
Kazuo sighed as they continued walking. "If she ends up being your fifth fiancée, you're going to regret those words."
"She won't," Rin replied flatly. "She pretty much hates my type."
"Hate turns to love," Kazuo said with a smirk. "Especially for girls like her—driven, emotional, morally rigid."
Rin gave him a side-eye. "Says the man who willingly handed over four high-maintenance, high-powered women to me."
"Yeah, yeah. First the consorts, now the title." Kazuo rolled his shoulders. "Don't act surprised if I throw the crown your way next."
Rin frowned. "You keep it. I don't want to be Emperor."
Kazuo laughed. "Neither do I. What a pair we are."
They exchanged a knowing glance, both too burdened for thrones yet too tangled in destiny to ever be free from them. The streets ahead were filled with light chatter, the scent of roasted chestnuts, and the fluttering flags for the upcoming festival. But behind the curtain of celebration, the Empire's future was quietly being shaped—by a prince who pretended not to care, and a crown prince who pretended not to watch too closely.
Day 4: Speech Preparation
The imperial siblings were crammed inside Rin's room, sprawled across his desk and chairs like defeated soldiers after a failed campaign. Stacks of crumpled parchment littered the floor. The air was thick with sighs, groans, and the faint scratching of quills rewriting draft number twenty-four.
"Rejected again," Aya muttered, face buried in her arms. "Apparently, mine was 'too poetic and not enough substance.' What does that even mean?"
"Izumi's was 'too casual for a formal celebration,'" Rin said dryly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Kazuo's was 'perfect but uninspired.' Which basically means they're just toying with us."
"I know," Kazuo groaned, flipping his draft dramatically onto the desk. "They're doing this because we finished our main duties ahead of schedule. Now the Empresses are probably sitting in a drawing room, sipping tea, thinking of more 'character-building' tasks to dump on us."
Rin sighed. "Sounds about right."
There was a brief silence, each of them stewing in their own frustration, until Aya mumbled, "Hey… the consorts have been awfully quiet lately, haven't they?"
Izumi perked up. "They're probably busy. The Empresses must've looped them into something behind the scenes."
"…Planning your birthday, maybe?" Kazuo added, eyeing Rin.
Rin's groan was long and heartfelt. "I don't want a birthday celebration. Not this year. Not with everything else going on."
"Well, publicly they'll be with me during the year-end event," Kazuo shrugged. "They'll play the role of proper noble ladies and princesses. But privately… I wouldn't bet against something happening."
Aya gave Rin a look. "You really think the four of them will just sit quietly and not do anything on your birthday? You're dreaming."
Izumi added with a grin, "They've probably got some elaborate plan to ambush you with something heartfelt, romantic, or just outright chaotic. Or all three."
"I'd honestly rather deal with thirty more speech drafts," Rin muttered, running a hand through his hair.
"And then there's the Saintess…" Kazuo said pointedly.
The room fell into a beat of silence.
"When Elaine arrives under the Heavenly Doctrine's banner, you do realize the four of them are going to stare at her like she personally wronged them in all their past lives, right?"
"…They already do," Rin said, tone flat. "Even when they're pretending to be cordial. This whole 'Saintess Scandal' just gave them a new reason."
"Death stares," Izumi agreed. "The kind that could flay a grown man alive."
Aya snickered. "Elaine might be a Saintess, but even she won't be ready for what's coming."
Rin leaned back in his chair, defeated. "Why is my life like this…?"
Kazuo clapped him on the back. "Because fate loves you. Or hates you. We haven't decided yet."