Chiharu followed Tetsuo, mindful of the distance between them. Ido Castle was a maze, every corridor leading into another before branching in either direction. Everything was immaculate; the Aroi clearly took pride in their estate. They eventually turned into a hallway, artwork strung up by the dozen. She took a moment to admire them, pride swelling at the thought of her father’s painting being added. “My father will be pleased,” she said, chuckling. “He was worrying the entire way; it was terrible.”

Tetsuo was easily a head taller than her; she looked up to speak, but quickly lost her nerve, face warm and skin more still, wide-eyed and acutely aware, now, of him. He was beyond her reach, but still, her heart refused to stop, falling further and further. “My father is a painter, yes. And, if I may, his skill is unrivalled, but I know very little about it,” Chiharu said. “We weren’t to learn his trade. Even my brother was kept away.” She frowned. “I feel as though he’s hiding something. He’s a mysterious man; I fear I’ll never understand.”

“I was raised to be a dutiful wife. Though, as a child, I indulged myself in literature. If I may speak frankly, Aroi-sama, I thought it would be my sister, Kaede, that you would court, if it suited you. She is only a year older than I, and far more beautiful; she was awfully upset when I was to accompany mother and father.” She hid her smile behind her sleeve. It was strange how easily she talked to Tetsuo, as if they had known each other far longer than a day. “But I must thank you for entertaining my father’s whim. I know we have nothing to our name, but you’ve done us… me… a great kindness,” she said, dipping her head. She considered what she was about to say, how devilish it was in nature, but then, it was unlike her to be meek—a fact that endlessly aggravated her mother. “Forgive me, but I’d thought you’d be arrogant, like many of the nobility I’ve known, but now I see you are a good and gentle man. I hope that we may, at the very least, continue our friendship, if we are not to wed.”

Hearing someone approach, Chiharu stopped, peering around Tetsuo. It was a different retainer, this time—an older man with a noticeable limp. He bowed respectfully before speaking. “Pardon me, but some refreshments have been prepared. Midori-san will take you when you are ready.” He shuffled aside to reveal a young woman dressed plainly, dark hair brushing her shoulder—Midori-san, she assumed. The girl beamed at Tetsuo: “Aroi-sama. I’ve prepared your favourite tea.”