Unexpected

The scene began two minutes before, when Haruka had approached Lady Murasaki. She had patted the empty space to her left, a silent, regal command. “Sit.”

Haruka sat cross-legged, close enough to smell the faint, elegant, almost ethereal scent of fine tea that clung to her like a second skin.

Lady Murasaki picked up a pair of delicate silver tongs from the table, lifted a small porcelain cup from the boiling water, rinsed it with cool water in a practiced, graceful motion, and then placed a few dark, curled tea leaves inside. She poured the hot water, a thin, steaming stream, and placed the fragrant cup in front of Haruka. Her movements were slow, unhurried, each one a study in perfect control. “Why are you so late?” she asked, her voice as calm as the surface of the tea.

“I was coming to see you, Mother,” Haruka said, “and I was afraid my appearance was not proper, so I took a long time getting ready.”

Suddenly, without a word of warning, Lady Murasaki pulled him into an embrace.

Haruka gasped, his entire body enveloped by her warmth and her scent. He instinctively tried to struggle, a panicked bird in a silken cage, but she began to stroke his head, a gentle, soothing motion that slowly, inexorably, calmed him. He remained in her arms, his head turned to the side, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Kiyohime staring, frozen in wide-eyed, slack-jawed astonishment.

Lady Murasaki’s nose twitched slightly, a subtle, almost imperceptible movement. “I do not like the scent on you,” she said, her voice a low murmur against his hair.

“What scent?” Haruka asked, surprised.

“The scent of a woman who carries a folding fan,” she replied, her words precise and sharp.

Haruka was shocked. Izayoi had indeed been close to him for a while, but he hadn’t noticed any particularly strong fragrance. If the scent had been obvious, the ever-observant Suzune would surely have mentioned it, which meant it must be vanishingly faint. He had never imagined that by simply sitting next to Lady Murasaki, she would detect something so subtle.

“I ran into Izayoi-neechan on the way here,” Haruka explained. “We only spoke for a few moments.”

“So you lost track of time talking to her,” Lady Murasaki’s voice grew even more gentle, a dangerous, silken softness. “Haruka, why would you lie and say you spent all that time preparing just to see me?”

“I did spend some time on it…” he began, his voice trailing off under her knowing gaze.

“Mm, Mother believes you,” Lady Murasaki said, slowly releasing him. Her eyes, however, told a different story. “Haruka wouldn’t lie. Which means someone else is responsible for making you late.” With that, she tapped a single, elegant finger on the tea table, the sound a soft but definitive click.

Haruka didn’t understand her meaning, but he saw Momozawa Ai rise silently from behind Lady Murasaki. Her two small hands, clad in black silk gloves, were folded over her exquisite abdomen. Her long legs, sheathed in fine fishnet stockings, moved without a whisper across the tatami. She was like a sleek, beautiful snake, gliding past him without making a sound.

A strange expression crossed Haruka’s face. As Momozawa Ai passed, the pointed toe of her high heel had deliberately, unmistakably, brushed against his calf. Her face showed no change, her gaze fixed calmly ahead. Even the ever-alert Lady Murasaki had not noticed this tiny, intimate, deliberate detail.

Haruka shifted uncomfortably, feeling as if a sticky, viscous residue had been left on his leg where the beautiful snake had passed.

Momozawa Ai had reached Suzune. She looked at the kneeling maid for a long moment, a flicker of something unreadable—envy? contempt?—in her eyes, then continued on without breaking stride. She exited the tea room and summoned two other maids, ordering them to pull Suzune to her feet.

Suzune, completely taken by surprise, stared blankly at Lady Murasaki. “Haruka was late, and that is partly your fault, isn’t it,” Lady Murasaki said, her voice flat, devoid of emotion. “Take her away.”

“My Lady…” Suzune had no idea what was happening. She was pulled to her feet by the two maids, her face a mask of innocent, terrified confusion.

“Mother, what are you doing?” Haruka asked, alarmed, his voice sharp.

Lady Murasaki smiled, a slow, chilling curve of her lips. “She made you late. I’m going to have her run a few laps of the estate, to remember to walk faster in the future.”

Suzune let out a quiet sigh of relief. For a moment, she had been terrified, thinking she was about to be disposed of like Fujiwara Asou. It was just a simple punishment.

Lady Murasaki caressed Haruka’s cheek, her touch feather-light, her voice a soft murmur. “How could I bear to damage my son’s gift? Besides, the Fujiwara family is not what it used to be. I am much more lenient than my mother was.”

The two maids released Suzune’s shoulders. Suzune’s expression as she looked at Lady Murasaki was now complicated, a mixture of fear and gratitude. She lowered her head. “Thank you, my Lady.”

“You may go,” Lady Murasaki said with a smile. “Run three laps. Think of it as exercise.”

Just as Suzune was about to agree, Haruka suddenly spoke. “Mother, could you let me punish her instead?”

Lady Murasaki’s interest was piqued. A flicker of amusement lit her eyes. “Haruka, how would you like to punish her?”

Suzune looked at her young master in astonishment. “I would also like to punish her by having her run three laps of the estate.”

“But I have already punished her,” Lady Murasaki said, a curious, challenging look on her face. “Why would you punish her again?”

“Then why won’t you give me the chance to punish her?” Haruka countered, his voice steady. “Didn’t you give her to me as a gift?”

Lady Murasaki laughed, a genuine, delighted sound. “I have overstepped my bounds. Then you shall be the one to punish her.”

Haruka slowly stood up. “Then my punishment for you,” he said to Suzune, his voice ringing with a quiet authority, “is that you will run three laps of the estate with me.”

Lady Murasaki’s smile vanished in an instant, her beautiful face becoming a cold, terrifying mask. “Haruka, why would you run with a servant?”

“You gave me a gift, Mother, and I failed to manage it properly. And I lied to you just now. In fact, I should be the one to run six laps.”

His words not only deeply moved Suzune, but even the two maids standing nearby were touched by his sincerity, their expressions softening.

“Young Master, you are of noble birth, as precious as gold” Suzune said, bowing her head low, her voice thick with emotion. “You do not need to run with a servant like me. I am willing to run the extra three laps in your place. I hope Lady Murasaki will grant this.”

Lady Murasaki’s stunning face was expressionless. Everyone fell silent, not daring to breathe, the air thick with tension. Then, a ripple disturbed the perfect stillness of her lips, and a laugh escaped—a sound like bubbling spring water, unrestrained and mesmerizing, that flowed through the room. Even though almost everyone present was a woman, they were all captivated, staring at her face in a daze.

Haruka didn’t dare to look at her. He could only lower his head, his mind uncontrollably repeating the thought that she was impossibly, terrifyingly beautiful. If she were to truly let go of her regal bearing, to whisper a few words in one’s ear, anyone would be utterly lost to her.

He could only stare at the floor, but he could feel her gaze on him, as if she were speaking to him without words. “What use is it to ask me? I have already given her to my son.”

Suzune looked at Haruka, her voice a soft, desperate plea. “Young Master…”

Haruka, still not daring to look at Lady Murasaki, said, “Mother, can I change her punishment?”

Lady Murasaki smiled, the warmth returning to her voice. “I have already given her to you. You may do as you please.”

Haruka nodded. “Then I will punish you by having you drink this cup of tea.”

Suzune looked at the teacup in front of him, her expression one of utter confusion. Is that even a punishment?

“I do not like the taste of tea,” Haruka said. “You will drink it for me.”

Suzune was about to look at Lady Murasaki for confirmation, but the thought had barely formed before she dismissed it. Maintaining her humble posture, she respectfully approached and drank the tea in Haruka’s place, a silent act of loyalty and acceptance.