As the sun sank behind the horizon, the air began to cool. The height of summer had passed, and one could feel the difference in temperature on their skin. Crickets in the garden cried endlessly, lamenting summer’s passing. Other insects produced a soft whine as they crept between the plants.

A man with a candle passed furtively through the overgrown, knee-high grass, making his way to a cluster of buildings hidden between the wild outgrowth of trees. He came to stand before the largest of the deserted buildings.

It was Shu Kojin, chancellor of Konkoku.

Behind Kojin stood Ryukan, personal spy of the Shu House. Slung over the old man’s strong, lean shoulder and dressed in a pink ruqun was the unconscious body of Setsu Rimi.

Kojin pushed open the door to the house and entered. The air inside was damp and musty.

“This place must bring back memories. You spent a lot of time here in your younger days,” Ryukan said.

Kojin laughed scornfully as he walked with the hem of his black shenyi raised off the ground.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but I have no such sentiments. This is nothing but a squalid shack to me,” the chancellor replied.

Something cracked beneath Kojin’s foot. He lowered the dim light to get a better look and found a piece from the strategy game of togi underfoot. It was a carved horsehead that had snapped in two.

You’re amazing at togi. What’s your name?

Attempting to drown out Seishu’s carefree voice, Kojin crushed the piece with his foot before continuing. He passed through the building and emerged into an enclosed garden. On the other side of it stood a sturdy stone building that had once been a library. Now, it sat empty.

The library’s contents had been passed onto Kojin when Yo, who had owned the estate, had passed away. It had been the wish of Eika, Yo’s only daughter and the chancellor’s wife.

Master Yo had educated a great number of brilliant students. Kojin had been among them, spending many of his young adult years in these halls.

A heavy oaken door led to the former library. The only sign of its previous function was the empty bookcases lining the walls. A pair of shackles had been affixed to one of the building’s pillars.

With a glance from Kojin, Ryukan set Rimi down on the cold stone floor and secured the shackles around her ankles. He then swiftly removed her hairpin and stuffed it in his pocket. Kojin glared at him, making the spy meekly duck his head.

“Just a little bonus,” Ryukan said.

“When you sell it, make sure nobody can trace it back to you,” Kojin ordered.

“Of course,” Ryukan said as he rose to his feet. He walked to the door and hung the key to the shackles beside it.

Rimi was still lying flat and motionless on the stone floor, but something seemed to be shuffling around inside her skirt. Kojin placed the candle on the ground and grabbed the hem of her ruqun to see what it was. Sensing the motion, the thing beneath her skirt peeked its head out.

“Of course, the Quinary Dragon. I’m guessing it isn’t interested in leaving the girl. It’ll likely fly off if I try to force it,” Kojin muttered to himself.

Rimi groaned softly and began to stir, making her chains clink in the dark. She jerked upright, surprised by the sound. When she found the chancellor looming over her, she curled up into a ball to escape him, causing the shackles to pull against her legs. That was when she noticed the chains and began looking around the room.

“Where am I? What are you going to do to me?!” she demanded.

“Where you are doesn’t matter. And what happens to you next depends on you. If you convince the Quinary Dragon to go with me, I might release you,” Kojin said.

“Tama’s been entrusted to me by His Majesty. I can’t give her to anyone but him.”

“I’ll make sure it gets back to him.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you in a situation like this? No,” Rimi said, her voice quivering.

Kojin snorted.

“You might be a fool, but you’re a devoted one. I’ll come up with a way of getting it away from you. One of the priests ought to be able to manage it. And once we have the Quinary Dragon, we’ll take care of you.”

Kojin smiled slightly as he saw the color drain from Rimi’s face. This felt good.

Good? Why? Is this personal for you?

The chancellor laughed silently at the idea.

There’s nothing personal about this. She’s just a burden on Konkoku.

Kojin was cool. Controlled. That’s what he told himself as he turned and walked away.

II

“That was delicious. Thanks, Tama,” Rimi said, leaning back against the pillar with a sigh.

She looked up at the little window near the top of the room. The sun was already setting, and it would only be another thirty minutes or so before the room grew dark.

Tama, the little silver-furred dragon others called the Quinary Dragon, sat in Rimi’s lap. She cheerfully wagged her tail as she nibbled on a peach.

It had already been three days.

Rimi had seen neither Kojin nor Ryukan since they’d locked her in the library. The building she’d been confined in was made of solid stone, and the shackles on her ankles were sturdy, heavy things. No matter how much she struggled, Rimi was unable to get them off. She’d heard no voices outside either, only the sound of wind blowing between the surrounding trees.

Luckily, she’d found a blanket bunched up near the chains. There was a water pail in the corner and a place to wash one’s hands. Just enough to barely survive.

The main problem had been the lack of food. On the second day, Rimi had collapsed from hunger. That was when Tama decided to take charge. Looking up at the window, she gave Rimi a reassuring glance, then raced up the wall and out the opening.

It was an inspiring sight for Rimi, reminding her of the divine dragon’s power. She’d expected Tama to go find help, but...

After a while, Tama returned with a sack stuffed full of peaches. The little dragon seemed so proud of itself that Rimi couldn’t help but smile. There was no reason for a divine creature like her to take care of a human. At Castle Seika, Tama had protected Rimi and Shusei, but one couldn’t expect the dragon to do that every time Rimi was in danger. Having her fetch a meal like this was basically a miracle.

Once Rimi had filled her stomach with peaches, she felt her strength begin to return. She searched the room, poking and prodding at the walls, and rubbing her shackles against the stones in an attempt to free herself. She called for help, but there was nobody around to hear her. On the third day, after a night’s rest, she tried again to find some way to escape. However, the day eventually ended, and she was no closer to freedom.

As Rimi stroked the silky fur on Tama’s back, she felt her anxious desire to scream for help melt away with each passing moment. She wondered if it was the healing power of the dragon. The consort ran her fingertip along Tama’s head, poking at the little horns between her ears.

If they do manage to separate us, I wonder if they’ll kill me.

She was suddenly very aware of the chill permeating the stone chamber.

He said they’ll bring a priest to do it, but I never thought it would take them so long.

Rimi could only faintly guess why this was happening to her. She herself had worried that she might be burdensome to the emperor. Of course Kojin considered her an eyesore.

He’d called her a poisonous flower. From his perspective, maybe that was true. She didn’t want to be a poison, but maybe that’s what she’d ended up being. She felt like she’d lost sight of herself, becoming blind to where she stood and turning into a burden to the emperor before she’d even realized it.

Shohi was surely worried. Rimi was powerless to help her situation, but she still felt bad for adding to his worries. The empress-to-be wondered if she should just leave her fate in his hands and wait to be rescued.

But the one who’d captured Rimi was the emperor’s most trusted advisor, Shu Kojin. Nobody would guess that he was the person who’d kidnapped the emperor’s future bride.

The only one who might suspect the chancellor would have to be someone who could analyze the situation calmly, understand the reason for Rimi’s disappearance, and recognize that Kojin wasn’t to be trusted.

There was only one person Rimi could think of who could do that: Ho Shusei. But there was no way he would be coming to her rescue. He had a goal that made Rimi his enemy, a fact they both recognized.

And so, Rimi found the idea of sitting back and waiting to be rescued pathetic. If she didn’t want to be so troublesome, she needed to figure things out on her own.

“How long would it take to find a priest they could use? Do you have any idea, Tama?”

If they were able to find a wandering priest, he would be able to use his powers to take Tama. After that, Rimi would be dealt with. She wondered how much longer she’d be alive. Thinking about it made her shiver even as the fear boiled up in her breast.

Tama looked up and squeaked.

“If a priest does come, you have to run away. I’m worried the chancellor will find a way to take you for his own. You’ll probably have to find your own way back to His Majesty.”

Tama shook her head, as if vowing to never leave the consort’s side.

“I appreciate that you want to stay with me, but you have to listen!” Rimi said, frowning.

Suddenly, Rimi realized she could hear faint footsteps on grass. Somebody was coming. She pulled her knees to her chest and held Tama close. The sun had begun to set, and the light coming through the window above was growing weaker. The colors in the room were fading, and the darkness had begun to grow.

Is it the chancellor? Or could it be...

The door opened. Rimi could make out a slim figure entering the shadowy room. They were wearing a crimson shenyi and carried the slight scent of tobacco. She couldn’t make out their face, but she could see a long tobacco pipe in their hand, which bled a string of smoke.

“Well well, what’s a girl doing in a place like this?”

Their voice was husky and relaxed. Rimi curled up even tighter, while Tama burrowed under her skirt.

Who is that?!

Rimi tried to breathe deeply, but her breath wouldn’t come out right. It was like she’d forgotten how to breathe.

He must be the priest.

“Tama, run,” she whispered, but the little dragon just climbed deeper into her skirt.

The person fumbled around near the doorway before producing a candle. They touched the wick to their tobacco pipe, causing the candle to flicker to life and illuminate their surroundings.

The priest was a slender, beautiful man with long, wavy hair that had been bundled into a simple ponytail. He looked to be about the same age as Rihan and Keiyu. There was a decadent air about him, heightened by the scent of tobacco and the deep red color of his shenyi.

The man knocked his pipe against the wall, sending the embers and ashes scattering to the ground. He then tucked it in his belt, carefully keeping the hot end away from his skin. He held up the candle and then retrieved the key to the shackles beside the door.

“Hard to believe this is still here. Is it sad that I’ve missed it? I bet Kojin’s never gotten to experience this,” he said.

Rimi didn’t understand anything he was saying, but he clearly knew Shu Kojin. As he approached, she felt the fear rise higher and higher in her throat with each step. He crouched in front of the consort to get a better look at her face. His eyes were mysterious, dark, almost to the point of being black, though they had the faintest hint of green.

“And who are you?” he asked.

Apparently, Kojin hadn’t told the priest who she actually was. Maybe the chancellor didn’t trust him? Maybe she could explain things and convince him to let her go.

Convincing people isn’t really my forte, but...

“I can’t tell you that,” Rimi said.

If the priest was curious about her identity, then refusing to reveal it could buy her some time. It was the best solution she could come up with.

“Stubborn, aren’t you? You really aren’t going to tell me?” he asked.

“What are you going to do with me?” Rimi demanded.

“Good question. I’m going to get you out of here first. I’ll think about it after that. Can’t decide what to do with you if you won’t tell me who you are, no?” the priest said as he undid Rimi’s shackles.

She’d been confined for three days now. Surely the search for her had made progress in that time. They could be closing in on her location. But if she wasn’t there anymore when the search found this place, they’d be back where they started, and the chances of her being found would be even lower.

I need to leave some kind of trace...

If she could do that, it would let others know she’d been there and had been moved. At least then the people searching for her would have a clue.

Rimi quickly slipped one of her earrings off and placed it in a crack on the stone floor.

The priest pulled Rimi up by her arms and led her outside. Once she was out of her prison, she realized she was on some sort of abandoned estate. They were in a garden filled with overgrown grass surrounded by buildings and walkways. Though the buildings had begun to rot, this had clearly once been the home of someone important.

The pillars were made of fine logs with no knots, and the support beams were thick and sturdy. Though the roof was crumbling in places and plants had begun to sprout between the cracks in the tiles, it was still a large, sturdy roof. There were no unnecessary paintings or ornaments. The buildings exuded a sense of bright serenity.

They passed through a building and out into another garden. A horse had been tied to a tree and was enjoying a taste of the nearby grass.

The priest deftly untied the horse with one hand while holding Rimi’s arm with the other. He pushed her, urging her to climb up onto the horse, before climbing up and straddling it behind her. His arms were on both sides of Rimi, holding her in place.

“Time to go, She Without A Name,” he said.

The horse set off on a trot. As the horse bounced Rimi up and down, she felt her heart rising into her throat. She tried to calm herself down and waited for some chance to escape.

But she was too flustered. An opening appeared in the man’s arms, and she considered trying to slip through them and off of the horse. But her panic made her jerk and flinch, and the man tightened his arms around her.

“Just hold still and calm down,” he hissed.

What am I going to do? Where is he taking me?

If he took her somewhere with a bunch of other priests, she’d surely be separated from Tama.

They left the abandoned estate and traveled a narrow path between rice fields. The surrounding buildings were isolated and empty. Rimi couldn’t see any lights from nearby villages. The area was wide and flat, interrupted in places by dark forests.

After traveling down a trail, they came to a wide road that seemed to lead into a town. It sloped gently downward, and eventually, lights appeared in the distance. From the size and brightness, Rimi guessed it was Annei. They seemed to be about a quarter hour’s ride from the capital.

I need to leave a trail of some kind.

Rimi removed her other earring and waited for an opening to drop it to the ground.

The priest turned his horse onto a smaller branching road. The new road turned into a steep incline. As they climbed, an estate came into view in the far distance. The sloped roof cast a black shadow against the faint starlight. It didn’t appear to be a large estate, but it still looked prestigious. The gate, adorned with octagonal lanterns, stood open.

Was it an estate for priests? If it was, there’d surely be others waiting for him.

If I go through that gate, it might be all over for me. If I’m going to jump, it has to be now!

They neared the gate, entering the field of light cast by the lanterns. Rimi steeled herself and shoved back against the priest’s chest. The moment she did, something touched her hand.

Huh?!

The priest’s body jolted, and Rimi was shaken by it.

What did I just touch?!

In her shock, Rimi lost the chance to escape. Before she could slip off the horse, the priest grabbed her around the waist.

“Don’t be stupid, that’s dangerous,” the priest warned.

Rimi cursed at herself, but it was too late. She looked up at the priest’s face in a panic.

This person is...

III

The chancellor’s chambers were situated in the Hall of Law and Culture. Located southeast of the Hall of the Rising Dragon where the emperor resided, the Hall of Law and Culture was made up of two adjoining buildings. Normally, the numerous rooms inside these buildings would be fully populated, but the area was deserted.

It was typical to find two or three scribes and five or six cleaners. But since Shu Kojin had become chancellor, he was the only one allowed to remain in the Hall of Law and Culture. When scribes or cleaners were needed, they were summoned from the Ministry of Rites. Aside from Kojin’s office, the hall was empty, except for some chairs and tables. The air there was always cool, and the officials spoke of the atmosphere as almost oppressively quiet.

The chancellor believed it was more logical to have those scribes working elsewhere, doing more important work, rather than being wasted by focusing solely on him.

The sun had already set, and the only light in the entire hall was in the chancellor’s office. Kojin sat at his desk, a pile of finished papers before him. The shadow cast by his brush wavered as a breeze blew through the window.

“Chancellor Shu?” Kojin’s messenger boy called from outside the office with a bow.

The boy served as an intermediary and courier for Kojin since the chancellor didn’t want anyone to appear unannounced.

“A message arrived from Mrs. Yo. She was wondering when you might be returning home,” the messenger reported.

Kojin found himself slightly irked by the reserved message. His wife, Yo Eika, was a famed calligrapher and a kind, compassionate woman. But ever since he’d won her hand, the chancellor had never felt at ease around her. He’d thought winning her over would be a triumphant victory, but after marrying her, he’d found himself dissatisfied.

Kojin scowled inwardly.

“Tell her I don’t know when I’ll be home,” he said without raising his head.

“I understand,” the servant answered. He then lowered his voice, almost mumbling. “Also, err, you have a guest.”

“Well, spit it out. Who is it?” Kojin snapped, raising his head.

“Me.”

Standing in the doorway and dressed in a blue shenyi was Shusei. Kojin bristled at how calm the scholar appeared to be.

Shusei? How shameless can the boy be?

“Who told you to let him in here?!” Kojin barked at the servant.

The boy went pale, but Shusei placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“He wanted me to wait while he asked for permission, but I forced my way in. You honestly think he could deny a direct order from the master of the Ho House?” Shusei explained.

The servant whimpered an apology.

“Fine. Leave us,” Kojin said with a dismissive wave.

The servant boy scurried away as Shusei stepped into the room. The chancellor slipped the paper he was working on out of sight and leaned back in his chair.

It disgusts me how much he looks like Seishu. It’s like I’m looking at him.

Facing off like this, the realization struck Kojin all over again. A long moment passed as they stared in silence.

“Lord Ho. Do you have some business with me?” Kojin finally said.

Shusei dug around in his pocket before pulling out a jade hairpin, which he set on the desk.

That damned idiot.

Even after Kojin had explicitly told Ryukan not to let it be traced back to him, the fool had somehow still gotten himself caught. What had brought Shusei here was now clear.

He suspects I’ve taken Setsu Rimi. Still, even though Ryukan may have botched this, he wouldn’t have told them anything. There’s no proof. All Shusei has is a hunch.

“And what’s this?” Kojin asked calmly.

“Setsu Rimi’s hairpin. It was in the possession of your personal spy, Ryukan. Rimi disappeared from inside the palace, and that could hardly have happened without someone’s assistance. You have the means to make her disappear, and you’re the only one who would have the audacity to eliminate her despite His Majesty’s desires,” Shusei accused.

“A hairpin doesn’t prove anything. My guess would be that Ryukan simply found the thing somewhere.”

“You’re right. But I’m not looking for proof. I’m already confident it was you. However, I’m going to do you a favor and not tell anyone. Not even His Majesty,” the scholar said. “I’m sure it would be inconvenient for you if His Majesty found out you’d kidnapped his favorite consort. All I want from you is Rimi’s location.”

Shusei’s impertinence made anger boil in Kojin’s gut. The boy was mocking him, thinking he had the upper hand. He’d probably come simply so he could look down on the chancellor.

“You think you have leverage here? His Majesty would never believe your word,” Kojin said.

“Perhaps not. But what about Jotetsu’s?” Shusei retorted.

So the crafty little rat was still in contact with Jotetsu. Kojin’s biological son, whom he’d used as a tool and spy, had joined hands with the chancellor’s adopted son to go against him. The irony was bitter.

“So, Shin Jotetsu has joined forces with the lord of the Ho House? If His Majesty needs to know anything, it’s that,” Kojin said.

“Feel free to let him know. I only assisted him in this matter because our interests were aligned. Of course, if you let him know, His Majesty will learn the truth of what you’ve done.”

Every casual retort from Shusei made the anger rise higher in Kojin’s breast. This wouldn’t stand. A counterattack was in order.

He doesn’t have any proof, and more importantly, he doesn’t know where Setsu Rimi is.

Chapter 3: Sunny, the Cook

I

Rimi was lying in bed thinking as she stared at the ceiling. She could barely make out the grass patterning on the ceiling in the soft moonlight cast from the open window. Tama was curled up and sleeping peacefully beside her.

The consort planned to wake up early the next morning so she could help prepare breakfast. She needed to fall asleep so she could be well-rested, but she was so excited to be cooking again that she couldn’t.

I want to find something good to cook for Renka.

Rimi wasn’t sure what Renka would do with her if the vice minister learned the empress-to-be’s true identity. Still, the vice minister had taken in a mysterious girl who’d refused to identify herself. It was only natural that she wouldn’t let Rimi go. Perhaps the consort was a heinous criminal or held some forbidden knowledge. If that were the case, releasing her would mean calamity. A bureaucrat like Renka had to be cautious.

She’d even compensated Rimi for holding her hostage by allowing her free roam of the estate. It wasn’t clear if she opposed Shohi or was allied with Kojin, but acts like that showed she had compassion.

Things could change if Renka learned the consort’s true identity. But for now, she owed the vice minister her life.

While Rimi was racked with worry, she decided to take advantage of her limited freedom to do what she enjoyed. For better or worse, the cooks were worried about Renka’s chaotic lifestyle, and Rimi wanted to help them.

If I can be of some use, then maybe I can change her mind.

Perhaps Renka would let down her guard and trust Rimi, even if the consort wouldn’t reveal her identity. Maybe she would even release her.

If there was one thing that Rimi had learned in her time as the Umashi-no-Miya, it was that food had the power to change people’s thinking. A belly full of delicious food had a way of softening hearts and calming fears. Sometimes a certain taste could summon up old, happy memories. It could change feelings or create new ones.

When someone told Rimi that her cooking was delicious, she felt like she belonged because she knew she had managed to touch their heart.

From what Jo, Somi, and Senrai had said, Renka stayed up late and slept in late. Even when they would bring her breakfast, she would insist that she wasn’t hungry and leave the food uneaten. She would snack on treats during the day and simply pick at her lunch and dinner. Then she would stay up late again.

Our first job should be trying to get her to eat breakfast.

Rimi was certain that Renka’s chaotic lifestyle started with a lack of breakfast. Without a proper breakfast, she ended up snacking throughout the day. If she started her day with a proper meal, she’d nibble on snacks less. Then, if she maintained a regular meal schedule, her body would take over and naturally tell her when to sleep and wake.

So I need to come up with something easy to eat but hearty enough to support her throughout the day...

Much of Rimi’s time assisting Shusei in his cuisinology research had been spent sitting across a desk from him. During that time, he had taught her so many things, even when she hadn’t asked. Though it often seemed like he was just trying to fill the awkward silence, he appeared to really enjoy talking about cuisinology.

Master Shusei...

Remembering the days when his smile was so close made her heart sting. She wondered if she’d ever get to experience that again.

If only he would change his mind. I want to go back to the days when we worked in the cuisinology hall together.

But of course, Rimi knew that Shusei would never have become their enemy if his resolve was that flimsy.

Tama’s tail began to twitch, seemingly sensing the consort’s chaotic feelings. Rimi stroked the agitated dragon’s fur. The little creature was sensitive to human emotions, and the conflict that Rimi was feeling was affecting her sleep.

I shouldn’t worry about things I can’t change. Just focus on Renka’s breakfast. Master Shusei always said it was the most important meal of the day.

Rimi seemed to recall he’d also said to not rely entirely on rice and wheat products. They were important, but a healthy breakfast needed more.

Suddenly, the consort recalled a breakfast Shusei had prepared for Shohi, which he’d called “the ideal breakfast.” It was brown rice with mashed soybeans, which he’d forced Shohi to eat. He’d then given him a mash of various fruits and honey.

The rice was tough and the soybeans were bland, and after only three bites, Shohi complained that his stomach felt heavy. The fruit should’ve been delicious too, but the mashed-up concoction had an unpleasant texture and was too sweet. When he’d finished, Shohi had ordered that it never be served again.

I get the basic idea. Brown rice might be tougher than white rice, but it’s better for you. Beans and fruits are good supplements as well. And honey works better than sugar to help a person wake up.

It was a good choice of ingredients, but the preparation clearly needed some work. Rimi just had to find a way of assembling the same ingredients in a way that was pleasant and easy to eat.

But no matter how you cook brown rice, it’s pretty tough. And even if it’s well cooked, just replacing the rice won’t be enough. What should I do with it though? Rice balls? Porridge? Porridge would be the easiest to eat. But what about the soybeans? And the fruit? If I could make separate dishes, that would be the most uncomplicated way to do it, but it needs to be simple. She won’t have much of an appetite, so I want to keep it to a single dish...

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration.

“I know!” she whispered, sitting up.

Rimi got out of bed as gently as she could so as not to wake Tama, put on some clothes, and slipped out of the room. She headed straight to the kitchen and searched for brown rice and fruit. The consort had already learned where the storeroom for the ingredients was, so she quickly found what she was looking for.

Rimi scooped out a bowl’s worth of rice, rinsed it, and soaked it in water. For the fruit, she took plums, figs, and some sort of citrus fruit that resembled a satsuma orange and brought them back to the kitchen. After thinly slicing the fruit, she arranged the slices on a colander and set it on the stove to warm over some coals.

The consort looked at her work with a satisfied smile. She was looking forward to the next morning.

Rimi awoke before sunrise the next day. Tama woke up with her, gave Rimi a look that said “I’m going on a little stroll,” and scurried out into the gardens.

Jo, Somi, and Senrai arrived in the kitchen yawning and sleepy-eyed at about the same time Rimi did, so the consort took the opportunity to propose that morning’s breakfast. The cooks apparently had a hard time coming up with meals for each day, so they were intrigued by the opportunity to hear a new idea. It took only a quick explanation for the women to understand; they each took a task and went to work. Of course, Rimi was given a job as well.

The women were all skilled, efficient cooks. The way they were able to manage their work to be completed at the same time was delightful to behold.

When the product was finished, all four women tasted the result. They exchanged approving nods, satisfied with the meal considering it was a first attempt.

Normally, the cooks were charged with bringing Renka her meals, but Jo and the others suggested that Rimi bring the vice minister her breakfast. They put the food on a tray for Rimi to carry and gave her simple directions to Renka’s room.

“You’ll know it when you get close,” they said.

Sure enough, the consort quickly found her way. All she had to do was follow the powerful scent of tobacco. However, the door was shut tight. Rimi stood outside the room and pondered what to do.

Could she be asleep? Do I wake her up?

She glanced around and noticed a handmaid strolling along the walkway nearby.

“Excuse me? I brought Lady Renka breakfast, but, um...” Rimi called out.

“Good work,” the handmaid said at first, but she looked surprised when she came closer. “Wait, you’re the girl that Lady Renka brought. What are you doing?”

“She gave me permission to help out in the kitchen. I made her breakfast, but I’m not sure what I should do with it.”

“Is that right? I’ve never heard of a houseguest making breakfast for their host. They usually leave the food there, and I bring it in for Lady Renka to eat when she wakes up. But since you’re here, why don’t you take it to her?”

“May I? I’m a stranger here. Am I really allowed in her room?”

“She won’t care. In fact, she’ll probably find it amusing that a guest is bringing her breakfast.”

“Really?” Rimi asked, tilting her head. Renka truly seemed like an unusual woman. Most people wouldn’t want a stranger in their room, but the vice minister seemed to have a rather relaxed attitude.

Rimi thanked the woman and entered the room. She winced as the thick smell of tobacco plumed out.

The room was considerably darker than the rest of the house. With the windows tightly shut, the only light in the room was streaming through the open door. Rimi carefully moved inside but almost immediately stepped on something squishy. She looked down in surprise to see something, perhaps a tanuki or a fox, curled up underfoot.

Is that a tanuki?! Did I just step on it?!

The creature didn’t move at all, and Rimi feared she might have killed it. However, after looking closer, she realized it was just a fur scarf.

Fur? She just keeps fur laying on the floor? And in the summer?

Though summer was waning, it was still hot and humid during the day, and the room was no less sweaty. In the dim light, Rimi could make out a table. She headed toward it, but with each step, there was something new to kick out of the way or step on. When her eyesight finally adjusted to the darkness, the consort’s shoulders slumped.

The table was strewn with books, scales, rulers, weights, a tobacco box, a pipe, and even the skull of some animal. There wasn’t even room for the tray of food. She’d have to clear a space.

Rimi placed the tray on a chair and opened the door facing the gardens. Light flowed in, illuminating the dust floating in the air.

“Oh wow...” the consort groaned.

Now that she could see the state of the room, it was clear there was literally no safe place to step. The floor was littered with clothes for every season, more books, and measuring tools of every manner. To her horror, even the bed was a mess with tobacco implements, books, documents, and weights. There was a blanket-covered mound in the middle of the mess, which could only have been Renka.

It stinks like tobacco. Nothing would taste good in this air. The delicate aromas would be destroyed in here.

Rimi looked out the door that led to the garden. A stone table and chairs were sitting under the eaves. They were likely intended for taking in the view of the garden, but Rimi thought they’d suit her purposes fine. She placed the tray on the stone table, opened all the folding doors, and finally approached Renka’s bed.

That handmaid said Lady Renka eats her breakfast when she wakes up, but I’d like for her to eat it now. It’ll be best when it’s warm.

The consort gently nudged at the balled-up Renka.

“Lady Renka? Lady Renkaaaa...” Rimi coaxed.

A groan came from beneath the covers.

“I have your breakfast. C’mon, eat it while it’s still warm.”

“I’ll eat it later,” came Renka’s hoarse voice.

I can’t even get her to eat.

From the look of the vice minister’s room, Rimi guessed that she was likely careless about a lot of things in her life. Her eating habits were probably one of those things. Their irregularity had become ingrained, and one couldn’t just order or beg someone out of a habit.

What should I do?

Rimi’s current position was tricky. She couldn’t afford to anger Renka. Simply dropping the matter, leaving the food there, and returning to the kitchen may have been the best option.

But Rimi couldn’t stomach the idea of just walking away. She’d served xiantang for Shohi and Hakurei when her life hung in the balance because she’d wanted them to open their hearts. She’d served zhen baozhu for the four consorts because she’d wanted them to realize their own beauty. For Shar, she’d served erguo baozi. There was the flower candy, the lijiumian, the baipinyiming, and the zizaibao. Each one had been made with purpose for someone, but ultimately, they were made to secure a place in the world for herself. She was proud of her work, and it gave her a sense of purpose. Her cooking showed her the way, and she wanted people to eat it. It was a natural desire for a cook.

Who are you?

Suddenly, Rimi could hear the Saigu’s voice.

Lady Saigu?

Empress-to-be. Poisonous flower. All the titles had come later. If Rimi had to say who she truly was, there was only one answer.

I am the Umashi-no-Miya.

All fear of upsetting Renka suddenly vanished. If she angered the vice minister, so be it. That problem could be dealt with later. The cooks had worked hard to prepare this meal, and she didn’t want to let fear put their efforts to waste.

“After all, from what I’ve heard, you are a Wakokuan immortal in charge of providing holy communion for the gods. I have great interest in your methods as the scholar who started the field of cuisinology.”

The words of a kind cuisinologist came to mind. It felt like it had been so long since she’d heard that voice. The memory of his teasing encouragement made Rimi’s duty clear.

She closed her eyes and collected her nerves.

I want her to eat. That’s all. That is my duty.

II

Rimi took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and spoke loudly.

“Lady Renka, please wake up and eat.”

“I said later,” Renka said. Irritation had begun to seep into her voice, but Rimi persisted.

“It’s going to be best right now. Please, eat. You can go back to bed afterward if you’re still tired, but right now I want you to eat.”

“Stop nagging.”

“Jo, Somi, and Senrai all woke up early to make this for you. Get up and eat.”

“I said stop nagging!”

Renka suddenly grabbed Rimi by the arm, pulled her down, and pinned her to the bed. But when the vice minister saw who she was holding down, her eyes went wide. From the expression on Renka’s face, one would think she was the person being pinned down.

“You?! Where’s Karin?!” she cried.

Karin must have been the handmaid from before. But Rimi had no answer. All she could do was blink and stare at Renka in surprise. It seemed like she was being pinned down by an alluring man, but since Rimi knew the vice minister was a woman, she didn’t feel frightened or nervous. If anything, she felt that Renka’s roguish looks were wasted on a woman.

Noticing that the consort was completely calm, Renka furrowed her brow.

“What’s with you?” she asked, seemingly perplexed by Rimi’s calm demeanor. She let go and cautiously pulled away.

Rimi climbed from the bed and bowed.

“With your permission, I’ve begun working in the kitchen. Thank you. As a cook, I appreciate being able to work. As an expression of my appreciation, I helped prepare your breakfast and was hoping you might eat it,” she said.

Renka stared at Rimi in confusion for a while before snorting.

“Ah. I see. If that’s all you have to say, then get out. I’ll eat it later,” she said.

Renka went to pull the covers back over herself, but Rimi grabbed her hand lightly.

“Hold on! Just eat, please!” the consort pleaded.

Renka froze. Rimi could see a flicker of distaste in the woman’s eyes.

“Are you giving me orders? You’ve got some nerve, girl.”

“It’s not an order, it’s a request,” Rimi said. “Today’s breakfast tastes best when warm. Everyone worked hard on it, and I’d like for you to eat it while it’s best.”

Renka’s eyes narrowed, and Rimi began to grow worried. She may have ruined the vice minister’s mood. Still, the consort had no intention of backing down.

“It’s hard to believe you can speak to me like that, knowing I’m a vice minister. You must be accustomed to seeing court officials.”

Rimi was startled by Renka’s insight, but she shook her head, refusing to let go.

“I don’t care if you’re an important bureaucrat, a commoner, or a god. I am a server and I’ll do whatever that requires. It’s my duty,” Rimi said.

She met the vice minister’s gaze and refused to look away. A tense moment passed, but Renka eventually chuckled.

“A server, eh? You say the strangest things,” Renka said. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. “Fine. Let’s try this breakfast of yours.”

Renka went to slip a crimson robe over her nightgown before looking back at Rimi.

“But being prodded awake to eat breakfast by myself doesn’t sound very interesting,” she continued. “You’ll be joining me, err... Ugh, this ‘She Without A Name’ game is such a pain.”

“If you’d like a name, the cooks gave me one. It’s Sunshine. Or Sunny.”

Renka scoffed.

“You picked up a name in the kitchen? You really are a funny one. Well then, Sunny, come. Eat,” she ordered before heading out to the garden. Rimi followed her.

On the table sat a large bowl with a lid covering it. Renka sat down in a chair, uncovered the bowl, and tilted her head as she peeked inside.

“Porridge? The rice looks awfully puffy,” the vice minister said.

Renka picked up a spoon. Rimi, realizing she was planning on eating straight out of the large bowl, quickly grabbed a smaller bowl and a ladle.

“Let me dish it up for you!” she cried.

Rimi spooned some of the thick porridge into a bowl. The rice was coarsely chopped and mixed with bits of chopped soybeans and little brightly colored beads of something. The rich scent of honey wafted from the bowl as Rimi portioned it out.

“This is porridge? It smells sweet,” Renka said, looking at the bowl in confusion.

“It’s a sweet porridge. I heard you like sweets, so I suggested to the others that we sweeten it for you,” Rimi explained.

“Hmm. Well, I do like sweets.”

Renka’s eyebrows raised as she took a bite of the porridge. She then took a second. After the third bite, she looked across the table at Rimi.

“What’s with this rice? It’s so savory. And I can tell there are beans, but what are these little colorful bits? It smells good. They’re sour but a bit sweet too,” Renka asked.

“We left brown rice to soften in water for a long time before roasting it. Then we boiled it to make porridge and sweetened it with honey. We also roasted and chopped two kinds of beans to add to the aroma,” Rimi explained. “The colorful bits are fruit. We sliced them thinly and left them on the stove overnight to dry. Once they were about half dry, we chopped them up and mixed them in. The fruits are plums, figs, and some type of satsuma from the south.”

Brown rice was usually hard when cooked, but heating it twice helped soften it and improved the smell. By boiling it with honey and adding chopped fruit, Rimi was able to add some sweetness and acidity; the chopped, roasted beans added texture and aroma.

The ingredients were essentially the same as the “perfect breakfast” that Shusei had served Shohi once, and she’d managed to deliver it in a form that would be easy to eat for someone with such little appetite as Renka.

After another spoonful, the vice minister nodded.

“It’s good,” she said.

Rimi smiled widely.

I’m so glad.

A habit couldn’t be changed in a single morning. Renka would need to get into a pattern of eating breakfast every morning for it to stick. But this was the first step forward. A good first step could be a pleasant experience and could make her feel a little better about getting up in the morning. That would lead to a second step, a third, and eventually, it would form the foundation of a new habit.

“What do you call this?” Renka asked.

“Xingganzhou. Rise and Shine Porridge,” Rimi said.

She’d named the sweet porridge in the hopes that it would serve as the foundation for Renka to start waking up earlier.

The vice minister pointed at the seat across from her.

“Join me, Sunny,” she ordered.

Not wanting to find out what might happen if she refused, Rimi decided to do as she was told and poured herself a bowl. She took a bite and marveled at the refreshing sweetness mixed with the savory aroma of the brown rice and beans. They’d done fine work.

I’m glad Jo did such a good job of roasting the rice. It really brings out the scent. The beans are chopped superbly too. It has a really enjoyable texture because Somi chopped the different types of beans into different sizes. And thanks to Senrai mentioning that Renka loves sweets, I was able to make it nice and sweet for her. I knew Renka would love it.

Renka polished off her bowl and stuck the empty dish out.

“I’ll take another half a bowl or so,” she said.

“Oh! Of course!” Rimi said, happily filling Renka’s bowl.

Renka turned her attention to the trees in the garden as she savored the second bowl of porridge. Her hair was unkempt and her robe was roughly pulled over her nightgown, yet her disheveled morning appearance didn’t manage to diminish the vice minister’s cool, commanding aura.

“I don’t remember the last time I felt like waking up to have breakfast. It looks like you know what you’re doing. Keep this up, and I might just offer you a job, ‘Sunny,’” Renka said.

Part of Rimi wanted to immediately turn her down, but another part of her thought the idea seemed nice. If she really was an inconvenience for Kojin and the empire, then living out her days here as a chef might be a good solution. It made Rimi happy to hear that she was a good cook and that Renka wanted to keep her there.

Living as a cook felt like it would suit her much better than being an empress.

“I didn’t spend my whole life being a good person. I know better than anyone that everybody has things that they want to hide,” Renka said. She looked up at Rimi. “So how about it? If it works for you, it works for me.”

Shohi’s face floated to the surface of Rimi’s mind.

Maybe that would be for the best. But I have to at least let His Majesty know I’m safe. He’s too kind to not worry about what’s happened to me.

She could always write him a letter that simply stated she’d found somewhere to live happily. He’d know she was fine then. But it would also break his heart. He might feel abandoned. The man was fearful and anxious regarding love. Even if it was for the good of the empire, a simple letter goodbye was just too cruel.

“I’m so grateful for the offer, and I’d love to live and work here as Sunny. I wouldn’t even mind changing my name to Sunshine. I’ve already had to change my name once. A second time doesn’t seem like a big deal. I don’t know if I’ll be able to work as a cook again if I go back home... But I have to go,” Rimi said.

“But why? It’s really that important? Is it the same reason you can’t tell me who you are?” Renka asked.

“Yes, it’s incredibly important. It’s where I belong. That’s why I need you to let me go and not ask any questions,” Rimi declared, staring straight at the vice minister.

“Oh Renka. As sloppy as ever I see,” a calm woman’s voice interrupted.

Renka and Rimi both looked at the doorway to see a woman accompanied by a handmaid on the path outside. She seemed to be around forty and had a gentle face. Considering she had a handmaid, she must have been a woman of status.

The woman smiled softly and approached. Renka stood and bowed, so Rimi did the same.

“It’s been too long, Renka. Am I really such a bother that you can’t even send a message?” the woman said with a grin.

“Not at all. But what are you doing here? You rarely visit,” Renka said.

“You’re always so busy out in the provinces that I never get a chance to see you. So when I heard that you had some free time and had returned to the estate, I decided to pay you a visit. You know, my husband told me that you’re a candidate for Minister of Personnel. You must have received an offer by now?”

“I have.”

Rimi was surprised by Renka’s casual response. Keiyu and Rihan had been struggling to come up with a candidate who was unbiased between the emperor and the Hos. Apparently, Renka had been chosen.

“But you haven’t sent a response, right? My husband’s been pulling his hair out, so when I mentioned I was coming to see you, he asked me to find out what way you were leaning.”

Renka furrowed her brow, apparently annoyed by the woman.

“You’re putting me on the spot. Is that the real reason why you’re here?” the vice minister asked.

“No no, I just happened to be in a position to do him a favor. I had...something else I wanted to discuss. Sit, both of you. I’ll join you,” the woman said. Renka and Rimi did as she asked.

“Wait outside,” the woman said to her handmaid, who excused herself. She then sat down in one of the open seats and relaxed.

“A bit late for breakfast, isn’t it? And you’re such a mess. I remember how Father used to complain so often about you. He said people would have much more respect for you if you weren’t such a slob,” the noblewoman commented.

“Lucky for me I don’t have any interest in being respected,” Renka said.

“Oh dear. You there, what do you think of her word games?”

“Oh, err... They are splendid word games. I can’t believe how pedantic she is,” Rimi stammered, panicking at her sudden inclusion in the conversation.

The woman watched Rimi with a smile for a while before turning to Renka.

“I’m sorry, I intruded so suddenly that we haven’t had time for introductions. Who is this, Renka?” she asked.

“Oh, she’s our cook, Sunny,” Renka responded.

“A cook, you say?” the woman asked, looking Rimi up and down skeptically.

“That’s right. A cook,” the vice minister responded curtly.

All Rimi could do was stare at the guest and blink. Finally, Renka noticed the consort looked lost.

“Sunny, this is Lady Yo Eika. You may call her Mrs. Yo,” Renka said.

Mrs. Yo? For some reason, that name was familiar.

“Indeed, I am Yo Eika. Chancellor Shu Kojin is my husband,” the woman said with a deep smile.

Rimi’s face went pale.

Mrs. Yo! Chancellor Shu’s wife and the woman who raised Master Shusei?!

III

I remember Master Shusei talking about her. She’s the woman who taught him calligraphy.

With her kind eyes and calm demeanor, Mrs. Yo reminded Rimi of Shusei in his cuisinologist days. Though they didn’t share blood, they had very similar auras. She’d evidently had a significant impact on him. Perhaps it was because she’d treated him so kindly as a child.

But even though she was Shusei’s adoptive mother, she was also Shu Kojin’s wife. If she learned of Rimi’s identity, it would be trouble. The consort was on edge. What was the chancellor’s wife doing here?

“S-So, how do you know Lady Renka?” Rimi stuttered while trying to keep her nerves from showing.

“My father, Yo Shibi, was a teacher. His students called him Master Yo. He took on many bright, young students. He taught them how to be scholars and bureaucrats. My husband, Kojin, was one of his students. Renka here learned under Father at the same time as him,” Mrs. Yo explained.

“So they were fellow students?” Rimi asked.

Renka appeared a good ten years younger than Kojin. It seemed impossible for them to be peers. Most people would prepare for the exams in their late teens, meaning she would’ve been around ten.

“I was a bit of a special case,” Renka said as she took a bite of her porridge. “After my parents died, I had nowhere to go. I was nearly starving to death when Master Yo took me in. I happened to have a knack for books and ended up becoming one of his students.”

“‘A special case’ is right. She was, what, ten at the time? Yet she was able to stand next to Kojin and Seishu, Father’s best students. She was a formidable togi player as well. Renka would trounce one scholar after another in the game,” Mrs. Yo continued.

If she was really able to stand shoulder to shoulder with aspiring bureaucrats at ten years old, Renka must have been an incredible child. And shockingly, she was apparently acquaintances with Kojin, Seishu, and Mrs. Yo.

The consort shivered as she realized she was indebted to someone deeply tied to the chancellor. How long would she be able to hide under the guise of Sunny?

“Kojin was still the best at togi. Even Seishu would complain about being unable to match him,” Renka shared.

Mrs. Yo’s expression seemed to darken at that. The vice minister noticed and raised an eyebrow.

“What’s the matter, Eika?” she asked.

“Those were such happy days. I can’t help but wonder what happened,” Yo said. Her voice dropped. “I mentioned it before, but I came here because there’s something I wanted you to hear. If you do become Minister of Personnel, you’re going to find yourself in the middle of things. Before that happens, you need to—”

Yo stopped and flicked a glance at Rimi. The consort realized the conversation might not be for her ears and rose from her seat to leave.

“Stay, I don’t mind. You don’t have a problem with that, right, Eika?” Renka asked.

“But...” Rimi said.

Yo looked at the consort and sighed.

“No, it’s fine. It’s likely common knowledge by now,” she said.

With Yo’s permission, Rimi returned to her seat. She didn’t know what they were going to talk about, but the noblewoman was Kojin’s wife. With Rimi hiding from the chancellor, whatever was about to be said could be useful.

“You know that Kojin and I have a son, right?” Yo asked.

It’s about Master Shusei!

Rimi tried to keep herself from jerking in surprise. The consort was nervous, but she watched the other women carefully.

“I haven’t seen him. But I remember hearing about some genius boy who would go to the palace to play with the emperor back when he was still a prince. As I recall, he also served as His Majesty’s grand councilor, but...” Renka trailed off and she fixed Yo with an icy look. “I hear he’s actually the trueborn son of Seishu and has become master of the Ho House? That certainly came as a surprise to me. Did you come because you decided it was finally worth informing me?”

Yo averted her eyes as she heard the venom in Renka’s voice.

“It was sixteen years ago. Kojin suddenly brought a bastard child home and told me to raise him. He wasn’t mine, but since I couldn’t have children of my own, I was just so happy to have a child. I was very proud to raise such a sweet, clever boy, so I did as Kojin said. But...”

Mrs. Yo’s voice caught in her throat. She seemed like she was in pain, as if she couldn’t breathe.

“But after twelve or thirteen years, it became so clear...his resemblance to Master Seishu. That was when I realized Kojin’s lie.”

Rimi remembered hearing that Seishu had been involved in a struggle for the throne and, in the end, had disappeared. Yo must have been so shocked to learn she had been raising a claimant to the throne. It must have been even more shocking that the one who had brought him home was the emperor’s closest advisor.

It surely threw her world into chaos. She must have been so scared.

If anyone had learned of Shusei’s origins, he would’ve been in danger. Yo and Kojin would likely have been denounced for raising him as well.

“I had no doubt that he was Master Seishu’s child. After seventeen years, the resemblance was undeniable,” Yo said.

Renka’s gaze turned frigid.

“I asked Kojin once what had happened to Seishu. I figured if anyone would know, it would be him. He said he had no idea. But you’re saying he knew this whole time? And took Seishu’s child as his own?” the vice minister asked.

Yo simply nodded, seemingly crushed by the weight of Renka’s words.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Renka asked.

“It was a time of succession and the Ho House’s power was waning. We hoped that nobody would notice the resemblance and time would pass without incident,” Yo said.

“But Ho Neison’s still alive. You really thought he’d never figure it out? And what if I’d met him?”

Yo shook her head.

“It wouldn’t matter if you’d learned the truth. Ho Neison was the only risk,” she explained. “But Neison had retired and never came to the palace. And even if he did find out and told our son the truth of his birth, we believed he would remain a loyal son of the Shu house. We thought his loyalty to His Majesty was absolute.”

“What made you so sure?”

“Kojin was diligent in our son’s education, and he laid the groundwork for our son to become vital to the emperor. That’s why my husband sent him to play with His Majesty. Kojin cared for him, and Shusei must have felt that. We believed he would never cross his beloved father,” Yo said. She finally looked up at Renka with pleading eyes. “But he believed that he was Kojin’s son, and I have no doubt that the truth shook him. I never told him either, which I regret deeply. My husband and I never believed it could’ve happened, but I think the truth upset him so badly that he decided to become head of the Ho House,”

Renka stood slowly and looked out at the garden with folded arms, seemingly deep in thought.

“You said just now that your son loved his father, but you never actually knew what he felt. Actions like these can’t simply be written off as him being upset. I don’t know what Kojin thought about raising Seishu’s child...but to me, it doesn’t seem like the lovely fairy tale you’re making it out to be,” the vice minister stated.

Yo seemed surprised and her eyes widened.

“Seishu loved Kojin like a brother. But what did Kojin think of Seishu? And I wonder how you feel about Kojin as well,” Renka continued.

“I married him,” Yo responded, clenching her eyes tight.

“You did. And how did that turn out?”

Yo’s hands, which she had laid on the table, began to tremble softly. Rimi looked from Renka’s cold eyes to Yo and immediately laid a hand on top of the noblewoman’s.

“Are you okay? How about some tea?” the consort offered.

“No thank you,” Yo said, shaking her head softly and forcing a smile. It made Rimi’s heart sting. Yo was clearly a kind woman who didn’t want Rimi to worry about her.

“You love Master Shusei, don’t you?” Rimi asked.

“Yes,” Yo said softly. “My husband is the same. Shusei is precious to him. I don’t know why Kojin never shared the truth with me, but I’m sure that he loved our son. He only showed it once. Shusei was young and Kojin gave him some baked treats he’d brought back from the Southern Trinity. Our son was so delighted... I remember telling him to slow down, that he wouldn’t have room left for dinner...”

The noblewoman’s voice trailed off as if evaporating into the air. She seemed to have lost all confidence. It had become clear to Rimi why the woman had come to see Renka. The vice minister had been close to both Kojin and Seishu, and Yo wanted her help. She couldn’t bear to see her beloved son and husband become enemies. She had come to Renka, desperate to find a solution.

“You say that Kojin cared for Shusei, but the truth is that you don’t know how he felt about Seishu or how he felt about raising the man’s son,” Renka said coolly. “But children are sensitive and good at perceiving what adults think of them. The question is what Shusei felt from Kojin.”

Did Kojin really love Master Shusei like Mrs. Yo said? Or did he lack even the slightest bit of compassion for him, and Master Shusei could tell that?

A memory occurred to Rimi, something the scholar had said at that shrine in Gisan.

“For twenty years, I have been a pawn in Shu Kojin’s schemes. I believed my purpose was to serve His Majesty. But when I learned the truth of my birth and realized how long I’d been played for a fool, it all became meaningless.”

Rimi could remember his voice cutting through the pounding rain.

“I realized there was only one way to enjoy the fate that had been assigned to me. I needed to take up this other life that Shu Kojin had stolen away. If I do that, perhaps I can erase this hollowness I feel.”

There wasn’t any one simple reason for him to join the Ho House. He must have had a lot of reasons for his decision. But his relationship with Chancellor Shu definitely played a big part. I’m sure of it.

At some point, Mrs. Yo’s eyes had begun to water. She took several deep breaths to try and collect herself. She then calmly folded her hands in her lap.

“You’re right, Renka. Perhaps Kojin’s feelings toward Seishu have carried over to our son. It’s clearly created a rift between them, but my husband took good care of Shusei. I believe that’s proof that he cared for the boy, and I believe their feelings can be repaired along with that rift.”

A lone tear rolled down Yo’s cheek. From her hard expression, she may not have even noticed.

Renka sighed deeply and sat back down. She leaned forward and wiped the tear from Yo’s face with her fingers. Yo placed her hand on her cheek and turned away.

“You said you came here to tell me something. It’s that you want your son back, right?” the vice minister asked.

Yo’s face twisted in pain.

“Honestly, I’m such a fool. You hear about mothers who can’t let go of their children, and I suppose I’m one of them,” she chided herself. “His decision is his. If he wants to be our enemy, then I know the right choice is to allow it. I understand that. But I am a fool... I can’t bear to see him and my husband fight. It hurts too much.”

Yo’s wish resonated deeply with Rimi.

I want him back too.

The consort wanted to go back to writing in the cuisinology hall across from him. She wanted to go back to watching as Shusei treated the emperor to bizarre meals, Shohi complained, and Jotetsu made fun of them.

If it’s possible to bring him back, then...

A large part of Shusei’s decision to join the Ho House was likely his relationship with Kojin. Meaning that perhaps if they could mend the rift between them, they could then shake Shusei’s resolve to be head of the Ho House.

But for that to happen, Kojin would have to have some love for Shusei somewhere inside of him. If he felt nothing but hate for the scholar, then there was no hope. But it seemed that Mrs. Yo truly believed Kojin cared for his son.

Does Chancellor Shu care about anyone?

Frankly, Rimi couldn’t see what Mrs. Yo could. If Kojin had actually cared for his son, then Shusei wouldn’t have felt that hollowness toward his life.

But she’s spent her life as a family with the chancellor and Master Shusei. Those decades must let her see something. If she believes it, then maybe it’s possible.

Renka continued to look at Yo with dispassionate eyes. There was something complex in her gaze, not quite pity nor disdain.

“You were the flower that all the students longed for. What are you doing crying like this?” the vice minister mumbled gloomily. “But Eika, I’m powerless here. I can’t do anything about Kojin or the Ho House.”

Yo nodded and after a long moment of collecting herself, spoke again.

“Of course. I know. I knew that when I came here. But I still felt like I had to come and talk to you. You were the only student who could equal Kojin and Seishu. You were their friend.”

“Once, maybe. But I don’t think you can say that anymore. We took different paths when we left Master Yo’s, and different paths change people,” Renka said. Her expression never changed, and Rimi watched her with mixed emotions.

The last emperor was said to be a mediocre ruler, so why had Kojin become his chancellor? And why did he hide his knowledge of Seishu’s whereabouts? Did he turn his back on his friend Seishu? If he had, why did he raise the man’s son to become a bureaucrat?

Lady Renka must have some idea.

Rimi couldn’t gather anything from the vice minister’s expression.

Wind blew through the garden, making the leaves on the trees flutter. The sunlight streaming between the leaves flickered, making the entire garden look like it was shifting.

“I’ve heard what you have to say. Like I said before, I can’t do anything and I don’t plan on doing anything,” Renka announced. “But when you return home, tell Kojin I’d like him to come see me officially to speak about the Minister of Personnel position.”

“I understand. I’ll let him know, Ryo Renka,” Yo said calmly.

Chapter 4: The Warmth of Your Hands

I

Shusei was just leaving his chambers, dressed in short summer clothes with boots that reached his knees, when he ran into a man wearing a white, smiling mask. It was Mars, the person who kept his identity hidden despite having supported the Ho House for years.

The young scholar stopped to greet the masked informant.

“Perfect timing, Lord Ho. I was just planning on dropping by. There’s something I’d like to show you,” Mars said.

“And what would that be?” Shusei asked.

“This.”

Mars reached into his sleeve and pulled out a letter. After taking it, Shusei opened it and began to read. It was a message from Kojin to the Minister of War.

“Contact me at once. I want to know how the plan is progressing.”

“Where did you get this, and who found it?” the scholar asked as he blankly read the letter.

“It was apparently found in the minister’s trash. For safety’s sake, I can’t tell you who found it. However, I heard that Kojin’s messenger boy was talking about being given a secret mission,” Mars said, his voice muffled beneath his mask. “This could be Kojin attempting to bring the minister over to his side. Should we be questioning him?”

“No. I know his handiwork. We don’t need to do anything,” the scholar said with a smirk. He folded the letter and placed it in his pocket.

“What do you mean, ‘we don’t need to do anything’?” Mars asked, tilting his head quizzically. “The Minister of War could be betraying us as we speak.”

Shusei smiled, but his eyes glinted coldly.

“Do you think I’m a fool? Or are you asking honestly? If you haven’t noticed it yet, then you’re the fool. You may provide fast, accurate intelligence from within the court, but the Ho House has no need for fools,” Shusei said. He smirked at the masked schemer.

So, which is it?

Mars had apparently won Ho Neison’s trust over the years by assisting with his schemes. But Shusei sensed something dangerous about the mysterious man. The way he hid behind his mask was unsettling. Someone who works behind a mask has something to hide.

“You’re a harsh leader, my lord,” Mars said, grinning through the opening in his mask.

“Of course I am. Was that all? I have business to attend to,” Shusei said.

“Oh? And who will be joining you? You aren’t running around with the wrong sorts, are you?”

The accusation put Shusei on guard.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” the scholar asked.

“Just that you should make sure you’re using people to their full potential, whoever they might be. Good day, then.”

Mars gave a deep, graceful bow, but Shusei just walked past him. The rustling bamboo whispered around the scholar as he headed down the walkway.

Just what is it that you’re after, Mars?

A critical moment had arrived. While dissatisfaction was mounting toward the emperor’s treatment of the provincial administrators, Shusei was gathering supporters who wanted to put the Ho House on the throne. The next move would be the last one. But there would need to be a final push before the opportunity to make his move could happen.

I have to remain patient until then. Everything will fall into place. But will I be able to find Rimi before then? It may already be too late.

Jotetsu had been visiting Ryukan’s safe houses with Shusei to make the old spy feel smug and let down his guard. Ryukan, believing that the duo were searching a cold trail, had moved out, heading for a village on the outskirts of Annei named Hoboku. Jotetsu had followed him but hadn’t been able to search much further for fear of Ryukan noticing him.

Still, it was an important clue. Hoboku was not in the Shu House’s domain, and Shusei recalled hearing the name before. His teacher, Mrs. Yo, had mentioned it a number of times. It was the home of her father and Kojin’s former teacher, Master Yo.

The scholar had been sure something was there and had requested that Jotetsu investigate. The spy had discovered a dilapidated estate that had belonged to Master Yo, but Rimi was nowhere to be found.

Soon after, Ryukan appeared to receive an order to search for something. He didn’t seem to be frequenting any place that would indicate he was guarding Rimi or preparing to eliminate her.

It’s strange.

The Yo estate was abandoned and forgotten. It was the perfect place for Kojin to detain someone. So why was nothing there?

Shusei had decided that he needed to personally search the estate. He and Jotetsu had devised a plan for that morning to ride out to Hoboku together. The scholar made his way to the stables, announced he’d be taking a ride to get a change of scenery, and borrowed a lively black horse.

Hoboku was some distance outside the city and up a mountain road. When Shusei arrived, he found Jotetsu waiting near the gate for him. The spy waited to make sure it was Shusei before he spurred his horse and showed him the way to Master Yo’s estate.

“I’m just gonna say, Rimi isn’t there!” Jotetsu shouted as they raced down the road with long, verdant grass swaying on both sides of the path.

“I know,” Shusei responded.

“Then why are we going?”

“Because she should be there and she isn’t.”

After a bit of riding, a forest came into view. The roof and walls of the estate peeked through the forest growth as if the woods had swallowed it up.

The pair dismounted in front of the main gate and led their horses by hand into the garden.

“Do you see any signs of activity?” Shusei asked, scanning the overgrown weeds and trees.

Jotetsu pointed to the ground some distance away.

“It was hard to find with overgrowth like this, but I was able to make out multiple sets of human and horse tracks at the base of the grass over there. But like I said, Rimi isn’t here. I wasn’t able to find any signs of hidden rooms or underground chambers either.”

The duo hitched their horses to some of the trees before entering the dilapidated house.

There was little left inside, just some shabby beds and tables in a few of the rooms. Sunlight streamed through holes in the patchy roof, creating circles of light on the stone floor. All things considered, it was peaceful.

Part of the floor’s thick layer of dust had been disturbed by footprints leading out into the central garden. A stone building, which appeared to be a library, sat on the other side of the garden.

“What about in there?” Shusei asked, pointing at the building.

“It looked like the perfect place to hold someone prisoner, so I was hopeful,” Jotetsu said with a frown. “But no sign of Rimi. Just some chains and shackles.”

“Shackles?”

Those certainly didn’t seem like they belonged in a library. Shusei hurried toward the building. When he pulled the door open, the scent of sweet, ripe fruit wafted out.

From the bookshelves and scattered papers that remained inside, it certainly did appear to be a library. Chains with shackles had been affixed to one of the pillars, and a crumpled blanket was off to the side. Upon close inspection, he noticed peaches sitting on one of the shelves.

Shusei crouched down to look at the shackles, then at the pillar where they were joined.

“These look old. I doubt they were only put here a year or two ago. From the rust on the adjoining plate, I’d guess it’s been thirteen years or more. There would still have been people here then,” the scholar deduced.

“Isn’t this Master Yo’s place? What would he need to chain people up for?”

“He had a lot of students, didn’t he? He might have needed a place to punish them if they crossed the line.”

Half-eaten peaches were scattered near the chains. Shusei could make out little teeth marks on them. Tiny ones. Something bigger than a rat but smaller than a dog. He pointed the fruit out to Jotetsu.

“An animal’s been chewing on those. Did you see anything around here?”

Jotetsu squatted down next to Shusei and picked up a peach.

“Looks bigger than a rat. Not a dog, though. Too small to be a weasel either,” the spy said.

“Does it remind you of the Quinary Dragon? It disappeared alongside Rimi. If those are the dragon’s teeth marks, then it’s possible that Rimi was here. Just days ago, even.”

Based on the state of the gnawed peaches, it couldn’t have been more than five days. Which meant she would’ve been here, alive, when Shusei had confronted Kojin at the Hall of Law and Culture.

She’s alive.

Hope began to bloom inside of him. He just needed to find some trace of her here, no matter how small.

Shusei tossed the shackles aside and stood. After inspecting the surrounding bookshelves and finding nothing, he crouched back down to run his hands along the stone floor. He moved slowly around the shackles, checking each stone and groove. Suddenly, he spotted something red sticking between two stones.

“Jotetsu, over here! There’s something between these stones. Can you pry it out with your sword?”

“Lemme see,” Jotetsu said. The bodyguard crouched next to Shusei to look, then he pulled out a slender bladed object from the backside of his glove. “This’ll do it.”

He slipped the blade into the groove between the stones and pried the thing from the floor. It was an earring.

Shusei picked it up and squeezed it tightly.

“It’s Rimi’s. She was here,” the scholar said.

“Let me take a look at that.”

Shusei unfurled his palm, and Jotetsu took a serious look at the earring.

“An earring with a peach-colored stone... When I first checked things out in Hoboku, I asked the village kids if they’d seen anything strange. One of them talked about finding an earring with a red stone,” the spy explained. “But they said they didn’t find it in the village. It was on a side road heading toward Sekisan.”

“Sekisan?! There’s an estate out there!”

“What kind of crackpot would build an estate way out there?”

“Ryo Renka, who just so happens to be renowned for being a crackpot. She was raised by Master Yo, so she’s connected to this place. And she’s an old acquaintance of Shu Kojin,” Shusei said.

Did that mean Renka had helped with Rimi’s kidnapping?

I’d thought Ryo Renka was keeping her distance from both the emperor and his enemies. Was I wrong?

He hadn’t anticipated it, but it wasn’t necessarily a problem.

Shusei pocketed the earring and stood up.

“I’ll request a meeting with Ryo Renka. She’s a candidate for Minister of Personnel, and I’m sure she’s already been approached by Chancellor Shu. If she’s going to be minister, I have to say my hellos as master of the Ho House anyway.”

It’s all right. She’s alive, Shusei reassured himself.

II

With the announcement of Shohi’s visit to the rear palace, a senior eunuch was sent to receive the emperor. Normally, the responsibility would fall to Hakurei, but he was preoccupied with searching for Rimi. Shohi headed for the Palace of Northern Peaks where the empress usually resided.

In the Palace of Northern Peaks’s garden sat a pond spanned by a red, arched bridge. The lotuses had bloomed and their vividly colored petals reflected on the pond’s surface. In a nearby reception hall with a view overlooking the pond, the four consorts waited around a table. When Shohi arrived, they all rose and bowed.

“Please, greetings aren’t necessary,” the emperor said. “I’m here to apologize for going so long without visiting, so sit.”

Shohi took a seat, and the consorts joined him. Noble Consort So, an elegant beauty, had thoroughly adorned herself with fresh flowers as usual. Her expression felt unnaturally calm. Pure Consort Yo, always easy to read, was more obviously concerned as she looked at the emperor. The emotion was clear in her big, round eyes. Worthy Consort On was less emotive, but because of her timid nature, her eyes held a hint of concern. And Virtuous Consort Ho, ever the severe beauty, looked annoyed. Her sour mood was out of concern, and even in her displeasure, there was a certain allure.

It only took a glance to see that the four consorts were worried for Rimi. And Shohi had let them languish for days without support.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard about Rimi. Jotetsu and Hakurei are doing everything they can to locate her. They should find her soon. We just need to wait until then,” the emperor said.

“‘They should find her soon?’ You don’t sound very confident,” Consort So said.

Shohi frowned at So’s pointed comment.

“So you have no idea where my dearest is, then?!” Yo asked with tearful eyes.

“Jotetsu and Hakurei are taking care of it. I trust them. You don’t need to worry,” the emperor said.

Truthfully, Yo was right, but Shohi couldn’t bear the idea of worrying them any further.

“But what about you? We’re worried about you as well, Your Majesty,” On said, peering into the emperor’s eyes.

“We can’t help but worry about Rimi, but it’s surely even worse for you,” So added in her usual domineering tone.

“We are your retainers. We’re worried about our friend’s safety, but your happiness is our first concern,” Ho said.

As Shohi looked at each of the consorts, he already began to feel better. Even if they weren’t in a position to help Rimi, he was glad he could rely on them for support.

I’m blessed to have retainers like this.

Thinking back on it, Shohi realized he had Rimi to thank for that. She’d brought so many different people who revolved around him and drawn them together.

I miss her.

It was a quiet thought. He wasn’t panicking and was still able to carry out his duties to some degree. But the fact remained that he missed her, and that feeling was growing with each passing day. He felt like it might burst out of him.

Shohi bit his lip and looked out at the garden. The consorts quietly stood and gathered around him. They silently looked in the same direction as him, as if trying to share his burden.

The five of them spent some time like that, but the moment was broken by the appearance of a graceful, willowy figure.

It was Hakurei. He crossed the walkway into the hall and bowed.

“Forgive the intrusion, Your Majesty. I’ve just returned and have some information I believe you’d like to hear,” the eunuch said.

“And it had to be right now?” Ho snapped.

Shohi silenced the prickly consort with a light wave.

“Let’s hear it. Is this about Rimi?” he asked.

The consorts suddenly stiffened, but Hakurei shook his head.

“Not exactly. I haven’t found anything conclusive regarding Rimi yet. It’s about Jotetsu. He mentioned that he had a lead on where Rimi might have gone. When I learned the nature of that lead, I couldn’t let it go unaddressed,” Hakurei explained.

“What’s that supposed to mean? What was this ‘lead’?” Shohi asked.

“It was Ho Shusei, master of the Ho House. It seems he and Jotetsu are working together.”

The consorts exchanged glances.

“Jotetsu and Shusei? Are you sure?” the emperor asked.

“I have a number of informants I pay for information,” Hakurei explained. “They’ve told me that Jotetsu and Shusei have been frequently seen meeting at a specific teahouse, after which they’ve gone to investigate various abandoned houses and buildings. They’re undoubtedly cooperating. My guess is that they’re searching for Rimi.”

Shohi’s eyes widened in shock, but it was not an unpleasant shock.

Shusei is searching for Rimi with Jotetsu.

The emperor was confident that Jotetsu would never betray him. He’d long been in a position to do so if he wished, but he had always been a faithful supporter. Whatever he was doing now, it wasn’t traitorous.

If Shusei was working with someone like that, it could only be to help.

Your Majesty.

Shohi could almost hear the scholar’s voice. The kind voice he’d use whenever the emperor was lost or distraught.

Ever since he was young, Shusei and Jotetsu had been by Shohi’s side.

If they’re working toward the same goal, then...

A possibility arose in the emperor’s mind.

“Jotetsu may be assisting the Ho House,” Hakurei said. It was the exact opposite of Shohi’s thinking.

“Absolutely not. If Jotetsu had any interest in betraying me, he would’ve done it long ago. He’s laid down his life to save Rimi for my sake. It would be foolish to doubt him now.”

“Then why would he be working with Shusei?”

“I think it’s the other way around.”

“How so?”

“I think the real question is what Shusei was planning by suddenly becoming leader of the Ho House. If he joined them in order to learn their inner workings and weaken them, it would make perfect sense for him to secretly meet with Jotetsu,” Shohi said.

Speaking his theory out loud made it seem more real. The idea made Shohi’s heart burn.

That’s it. That would explain why a man who faithfully supported me for years would suddenly turn to the Ho House.

Shusei’s entire betrayal could’ve been one big ploy. Somewhere deep down inside, Shohi had always prayed for that to be the case. His heart swelled at the idea of that unconscious wish coming true.

If that really is why they’re working together, then...!

But Hakurei looked at the young emperor with a grave expression.

“Doesn’t that seem a bit convenient? Shusei is a clever man, but still,” the eunuch said.

“I’m not saying it’s a fact. Just that it’s possible!” Shohi said.

Hakurei fell silent at the emperor’s retort, but his eyes clearly showed that he was uneasy.

As the consorts listened to the conversation, So, Yo, and On’s faces broke into smiles at the emperor’s delight. Only Ho had a look of concern as she gazed at Shohi.

Chapter 6: Father and Son

I

I’ve wanted to say that for so long.

When the immediate rebellion surrounding Kan Cho’un had ended, Rimi had run into Shusei near the Palace of Twin Dragons while chasing after Tama. At that moment, the consort had believed that she understood why Shusei had become master of the Ho House. His resolve seemed so fierce that she had accepted there was no chance of swaying him from his path.

But if some kindness still lingered within him, then maybe Rimi could reach Shusei and shake his conviction. So, she decided she needed a straight answer.

“Everyone believes you joined the Ho House so you could push His Majesty off the throne and take it for yourself,” Rimi said. “But when I asked you in Gisan if that’s what you wanted, all you said was that you’d do what was expected of you as the child of Seishu. What’s more, you pushed Tama away and said you didn’t need her power. That what you wanted could only be achieved by yourself. That’s because you don’t want the throne.”

If the scholar’s goal wasn’t to take the throne, what was he really doing? Even Rimi could see the reason.

“You want to destroy the Ho House from within,” she concluded.

The Konkokuan court was tearing at the seams. An empire could only have one royal family, but power had been split between the Ryu and Ho houses. This was a problem that couldn’t be ignored. It cast a shadow over the empire, threatening its stability. Anyone who cared about their land would want to mend such a schism. And Rimi could tell that Shusei cared.

“I believe that’s what you want. I believe you joined the Ho House for His Majesty’s sake. And I believe you’re utterly dedicated to it, which is why I said I would be your enemy,” Rimi continued, pressing on to keep the wide-eyed scholar from offering any excuses. “Of course you felt confused and empty when you found out Chancellor Shu had manipulated your whole life. I’m sure that was part of why you left for the Ho House. You had two reasons, didn’t you? You wanted to hurt Chancellor Shu and destroy the Ho House. Well, if you can bring him to his knees with this whole mess, then you’re halfway there, right? If all that’s left is to take down the Ho House, why not go back to His Majesty and work together to find another way? Wouldn’t that be better for both of you?”

“You honestly believe that’s why I’m doing this?” Shusei asked in a gravelly voice.

“I do,” Rimi responded with complete conviction.

“You’re wrong. That’s not why I became master of the Ho House.”

“Well then, why did you?”

“You think I would tell that to an enemy?” Shusei said, pain clear in his voice.

“If I truly am your enemy, then no. But I love you. And I want to believe there’s some truth to what I’m saying. That it isn’t just some fantasy.”

“Why? Why won’t you leave me alone?!”

Apparently unable to take it any longer, Shusei suddenly grabbed Rimi by the shoulders and pinned her to the bed. She was shocked by his uncharacteristic violence, but the suffering in his expression was obvious.

This couldn’t be...

Rimi recalled some of the things that Consort So had told her in preparation for the Nocturnal Liturgy. The consort was scared that he might do the things she’d talked about. She wasn’t sure what to do if he tried. It was probably best to just go along with it obediently, but Rimi didn’t know if she was capable of that. She felt she might cry out in fear, push the emperor off of her, and run. But she also knew doing that would hurt Shohi terribly. She’d already worried him so badly. She didn’t want to wound him too, she just wasn’t sure whether she could control it.

What do I do?

She braced herself...but the emperor showed no sign of moving.

Huh?

Rimi noticed Shohi’s earnest expression. He was simply squeezing her hand, holding her beside him, and staring intently at her.

“Just stay like this and sleep here tonight,” Shohi said, apparently noticing Rimi’s confusion. “That’s all I want. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything.”

Rimi blinked at the overwhelmingly surprising order.

“We haven’t even gone through with the Nocturnal Liturgy. It would be inappropriate to indulge myself before that,” he added, somewhat dejectedly.

“B-But Consort So said that once I’m in a man’s bed, I can forget any ideas about the Nocturnal Liturgy or ceremony and there’s no way to escape the tragedy of—”

“Would you stop talking?! Do I need to make you be quiet?!”

Rimi stiffened in fear.

“S-S-Sorry!”

“It’s fine. You’re still full of spirit and you’re here. That’s enough,” Shohi said and squeezed Rimi’s hand.

He’s so sweet.

The consort couldn’t help but smile.

The emperor would likely do everything in his power to find out who had kidnapped Rimi. What would he do if he learned it was Kojin? Could the emperor’s supporters still hold off the Ho House if a rift developed between Shohi and his chancellor?

Also, what would happen to Renka? Would she still become the Minister of Personnel? If she did, who would she side with? And if she didn’t, who would become the new minister?

So many things felt unsettled.

And then there’s Master Shusei...

Rimi needed to face Kojin once more if she wanted to stop Shusei and bring him back to his old self. If she could move the chancellor’s heart, maybe she could move his son’s as well.

I want him back.

She was alone with Shohi in his room, but once, Shusei and Jotetsu had been there with them. She’d seen them all laugh, work through their troubles, and talk about all sorts of things together. Rimi wanted those moments back.

The consort noticed Shohi was staring intently at her face.

“Your Majesty?”

“I was just thinking about your face. It’s so plain. Your skin is nice but that’s about it. Compared to the four consorts, it’s rather...sturdy. It’s reassuring. Like you won’t fade away.”

“Oh. Err... I’m sorry?”

“You’re not supposed to apologize. It’s a compliment.”

Rimi wasn’t sure which part was supposed to be a compliment, but it hurt too much in this position to tilt her head in confusion. She decided to just lie down and gaze back at his elegant face.

“You’re beautiful, Your Majesty.”

“Is that supposed to make me happy? I’d rather hear that I’m rugged or dignified.”

“Oh... Well, you’re dignified too.”

“The moment’s passed,” he sulked.

He was adorable. Rimi couldn’t help but smile at him.

The candles flickered and burned. At some point they went out, shrouding the room in darkness. By that point, Rimi and Shohi were fast asleep, holding each other’s hands. They were able to sleep in peaceful security, like a pair of puppies sharing their warmth.

Amid the darkness, Tama crept down from the rafters and over to the pair’s pillows. The little dragon looked thoughtfully from one to the other.

Stars twinkled in the night autumn sky, and above the darkened mountains, a red star glowed brightly. Mars.

Afterword

Hello everyone! Miri Mikawa here!

When I was writing this volume, one of the characters gave me a lot of grief. That being Shusei’s papa, Kojin. He’s a lot of trouble, that one. But rather than hate the troublesome characters, I honestly love them. But Kojin... He’s too much! Even my editor had a hard time with him. I’m sure the characters in the story are just as fed up with him. I felt like I had to keep apologizing while I was writing. “Sorry for putting this guy in here...”

Speaking of characters, we had a new one in this volume. When I saw Nagi-sensei’s rough draft, I was spellbound. I almost felt like the character was too cool looking to be wasted on this. I’m sure you’ll get what I mean when you see her.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this volume!

To my editor, I know you always have to put up with me, but I’m especially sorry this time around for troubling you with the Kojin problem. If not for you, I don’t even know where the story would be going. It would be total chaos. I’m sorry I have to rely on you so much, but I hope you aren’t fed up with me yet!

To Kasumi Nagi, my illustrator, thank you so much for drawing the incredibly adorable Aisha last time around. She’s so cute, I feel like my heart is going to burst. I don’t know how exactly you’ll draw our new character, but from the rough draft I saw, I’m so excited! I appreciate all of your beautiful art so much.

And finally, to the readers, thank you so much for buying this book!

Thanks(?) to Kojin’s troublemaking, the next book might be out before too long. I can’t say for certain, but be on the lookout for it!

Miri Mikawa