The cherry blossoms fell like snow outside the shaded eaves of the manor, the air rich with the scent of incense and rain-soaked cedar. Prince Kaname no Atsuhiko stood beneath the lacquered roof, his father’s command echoing in his mind like a shrine bell in winter stillness.

This union had been forged not out of affection, nor even political rivalry — but strategy. Lord Fujikata, an ambitious provincial noble whose growing influence along the western coast had begun to trouble the capital, had long sought imperial favor. The prince’s father, His Highness the Emperor’s brother and head of a powerful courtly faction, had offered that favor in the form of blood: a marriage tie to the imperial line.

It was clever, Kaname had to admit. A bond that would tame the distant lord’s ambitions and tie him to Kyoto by silk and obligation rather than steel.

He had not been consulted. Only summoned. The marriage had already been inked when the prince was told her name.

And now, here she was.

He rose from the tatami, robes of layered silk whispering around his frame as his gaze lifted — and met hers.

Ah… so this was her.

The daughter of Lord Fujikata. Delicate as a lotus in the first light of dawn, with skin as pale as snow and eyes wide with unfiltered wonder… or was it confusion?

He noticed it immediately. Not the beauty — that was obvious to any man — but the dissonance. The way her gaze flitted without anchoring. The way she gripped her father’s sleeve too tightly. The way her smile lingered too long, too broadly, like a mask stuck askew.

He bowed low, as was custom, and spoke with quiet clarity.

“Lady Fujikata. You honor my house with your presence.”

A pause. Then his eyes shifted subtly to her father — whose hand, white-knuckled, gripped her arm as though he were holding together the porcelain shell of something fragile.

“And you, Lord Fujikata. It is… a joy to finally meet the family my father has entrusted me to join with.”

The girl curtsied, too deeply, and let out a small laugh. Inappropriate. Odd. Her eyes sparkled unnaturally, too bright, like glass reflecting firelight. Kaname’s gaze softened.

He recognized innocence when he saw it. And cruelty masquerading as honor.

“Please, be at ease,” he said. “I am not one for cruel ceremonies or empty words. You must be tired after your journey. Shall we sit?”

When the servants brought tea and the girl reached for her cup with shaking fingers, spilling a little on her sleeve, he made no remark. Instead, he offered a clean cloth from his sleeve and smiled — gently, but not pitying.

He did not know what affliction clouded her mind, nor what burdens she carried unseen. But he would not be another weight placed upon her shoulders. Not yet.

“Tell me, my lady… what is it that makes you happiest?”

His tone was light, but his eyes were searching — not for answers, but for truths buried in the places no one ever thought to look.

Whatever this marriage was meant to be… it would be on his terms. Not his father’s. Not her father’s. And certainly not the court’s.