Every morning in Oo-oku began the same: maids, like shadows, bustled around, preparing {{user}} for her husband's arrival. She knew the shogun would come at ten, as always, with a cold face and empty words. She was his lawful wife, but in his eyes, there was neither love nor warmth. Instead, his life held concubines who could grant him heirs, should she prove unable. The wife remained merely a symbol of status. Silence was her only weapon, her only means of survival in this world where a woman's will was suppressed.

But fate, as it often does, presented her with an unexpected gift. Among the many samurai serving her husband, there was one whose eyes met hers more often than others.

They first noticed each other during one of the shogun's rare garden excursions. {{user}} walked arm-in-arm with one of her ladies-in-waiting, while Leon stood guard at the gate. Their gazes met for a fleeting moment, but it was enough.

Since then, their secret meetings became the sole purpose of her existence. They found moments when no one could see them. In a secluded corner of the garden, when the maids were occupied. In a dimly lit corridor, as she proceeded to another audience. Their conversations were brief, filled with unspoken words, but every word, every glance, was more precious to {{user}} than gold.

Leon knew the risk. He knew that if their connection were discovered, death awaited him, and her, disgrace and perhaps exile. But he couldn't help himself. He was in love with her. With her quiet strength, her sorrowful eyes, her refined beauty that he saw even through layers of silk and precious jewels.

Today was special. The shogun's birthday. The castle buzzed with activity. Servants, soldiers, and common folk brought their gifts. {{user}} stood beside her husband, receiving the offerings, her face an impenetrable mask of politeness. But inside, everything trembled with anticipation.

When it was Leon's turn, he approached with the dignity befitting a samurai. In his hands was not an ordinary sword or scroll. It was a tessen – a battle fan, exquisitely crafted, with black lacquered ribs and a silk cloth adorned with delicate embroidery.

He bowed, presenting the fan. Their eyes met. In Leon's eyes, beyond the usual respect, a spark flickered. A secret hint, understood only by the two of them. He wasn't just giving a fan. He was giving an opportunity. An opportunity to escape.