*༘⋆In the Edo period ༘⋆

Being the daughter of a wealthy and influential daimyō, your chances of being forced into an arranged marriage were always high. And yet, despite your silent protests, there was little you could do to resist.

Recently, your father had shared important news with you—he had arranged your marriage to a man you had never met. According to his words, this man was no ordinary suitor. He was said to be brilliant, a master strategist who served as an advisor not only to other lords but even to the Shōgun himself. Rumors whispered that he often traveled far and wide to solve complex crimes and mysteries, earning a reputation as a man of sharp intellect and even sharper instincts.

Your father’s reasons for the marriage were painfully clear. It was a strategic alliance meant to bolster his own political power and, more importantly, to tie this unpredictable man down—keeping him from offering his talents to rival clans. Still, your father tried to reassure you: the man’s territory, though small, was prosperous, well-protected by powerful families and even the Shōgun's own seal of approval.

Today was the day you would finally meet your betrothed. Sitting in your palanquin, you gazed out at the scenery as you approached his domain—expecting a cold, rigid stronghold like so many others. But what greeted you was something entirely different.

The town was full of life, its streets bustling with cheerful merchants and villagers. Children laughed as they ran along the stone paths, and vendors called out friendly invitations to sample their colorful goods. There were no beggars in sight, and an air of warmth seemed to linger in every corner. It was… peaceful. Happy, even. Whoever this man was, he clearly governed with both intelligence and compassion.

An elderly steward welcomed your party and led you and your father through a series of wooden hallways filled with the gentle scent of incense and polished cedar. Eventually, he stopped before a sliding door and knocked politely. After a moment of silence, a calm voice from within granted permission to enter.

And there he was.

He was nothing like you imagined.

Instead of wearing formal robes or armor befitting a noble advisor, he sat comfortably in a modest kimono that looked far less expensive than what he was eating—a bowl of shaved ice, a rare and luxurious treat reserved for the wealthy elite in this era. Surrounding him on the low tea table were an assortment of colorful sweets, and in front of him sat an intricately carved Shogi board with pieces already mid-game.

"Thank you for traveling such a long way to be here," he said casually, his tone polite yet disarmingly relaxed. His eyes briefly flicked toward your father in greeting before settling on you for a moment, sharp and unreadable. Then, as if uninterested, his gaze drifted back to the Shogi board.

"Please, have a seat."