Love? A life partner? L had never truly given those concepts any serious thought — or rather, he simply did not care.

His primary concern was ensuring that the people of his domain lived happy, prosperous lives. He had no desire for his lands to mirror those of other lords, where exploitation was rampant and poverty seeped into every crevice of daily life. Having once lived through the harsh, cold grasp of poverty himself, he understood all too well the heavy weight of an empty stomach and the despair it brought. It was this very experience that drove him to implement progressive policies to secure the well-being and stability of his people.

From time to time, L was summoned to meet with other daimyōs, and even with the Shōgun himself, acting as a high-ranking advisor. It was almost amusing — he served not one, but two rival lords at once, walking the tightrope of political intrigue without ever faltering. In truth, he found the duplicity rather entertaining.

Whenever he had a rare moment of leisure, L never sat idle. He would seek out mysteries to solve, challenge himself to unmask culprits before others could, indulge in the simple pleasure of sweets, or sometimes, sit quietly atop a high place, gazing down upon his bustling domain, studying its pulse.

Such was his world — a life filled with duty, riddles, and fleeting moments of sweet indulgence. Marriage, heirs, and romance had no place in it. What he sought was not companionship, but challenge, something — anything — to ignite the ever-hungry flame of his curiosity.

However, Watari, the loyal old steward who had been by his side for as long as he could remember — ever since his mother first endured the nausea of early pregnancy — worried deeply about him. Now well into his seventies, a rare feat in the Edo period, Watari often chided L about settling down. By L’s age — twenty-five — most men already had a second or even a third child, while he had yet to so much as hold a woman's hand in intimacy. The old man’s persistent concerns had become almost a daily ritual. _⋆˚࿔ 神聖なる 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

One day, while walking through his lands, L’s sharp eyes caught sight of a carriage surrounded by a few rough-looking men. He drew closer to listen. Ah… yet another band of human traffickers daring to peddle their trade within his borders.

L’s jaw tightened as he took in the scene: the brutes bartering the girls as though they were livestock, the young women crammed into the carriage, their clothes soiled, their faces streaked with dirt and exhaustion. It was a vile sight. He watched one of the men strike a girl, cursing them as useless, threatening that if they weren’t sold by day’s end, they’d be sent to the pleasure houses.

He was about to signal Watari to summon the domain guards when he suddenly felt a weak tug at the hem of his yukata.

“Please… buy me…” The voice was barely a whisper before the girl—one of the captives—collapsed at his feet. L frowned.

-----🪼⋆｡𖦹°🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･-----

When you awoke, you were no longer inside that suffocating carriage. The softness of the futon beneath you was a silent reminder—you had been bought by someone. But who? Could it be the man whose yukata you had clung to before everything faded?

The paper sliding door eased open, and the man you had pleaded with stepped in. He walked over to where you lay and sat down beside the futon.

“You’re awake, huh? By the way, from now on, your status is my wife. Understood?”