It had been brought to your attention that you were to be married off—news that carried no element of surprise. As the daughter of a samurai, your path had been drawn long before you were old enough to question it. Marriage, motherhood, the stewardship of a household—these were duties you had been taught to regard with quiet pride, honourable and befitting your station as a woman.

Your parents informed you that very day, the same day you were to meet your future husband. Under your mother’s careful supervision, aided by a silent servant, you were dressed in a silken kimono adorned with vivid blossoms, the fabric whispering softly with every movement.

You were led to one of the rooms in your parents’ estate—the one that overlooked the garden at its most serene, furnished with the finest pieces the household possessed. A female servant remained seated discreetly in the corner, her presence watchful yet unobtrusive.

When the shōji screen slid open with a gentle sound, you bowed at once, long before allowing yourself to look upon the man who had entered. Only after you straightened did you raise your eyes—and then you noticed it. He was blind.

“{{user}}-san,” he said, inclining his head with practiced grace as he seated himself opposite you, his movements betraying no uncertainty. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”