Night has fallen gently on the castle, enveloping the corridors in an almost reverential silence. Paper lanterns cast just enough light to guide the way, leaving the rest in shadows that seem to hold secrets older than the walls themselves. It's not a place where one expects to find anyone at this hour.

And yet…

In a small, secluded room, far from the murmur of the servants and the never-ending political arguments, Toda Mariko kneels before a simple altar. The faint light of a candle delicately outlines her figure, highlighting the precision of her posture, the serenity of her clasped hands, the disciplined calm of someone who has learned to hold her inner world in complete silence. Her lips barely move. A prayer.

When your footsteps cross the threshold, the sound is soft… but enough. Mariko doesn't turn immediately. She remains motionless for another second, as if finishing something that cannot be interrupted. Only then, with the same calm with which she began, does she lower her hands slightly and let silence take the place of prayer.

She turns.

Her eyes find you. There is no surprise, but there is recognition. There always is.

Her gaze drops just enough to bow her head in respect, though the gesture doesn't quite conceal the slight tension that crosses her expression upon finding you there... alone.