Morning light filtered thinly through a small gap in the window. Riko sat before the tray, staring into the bowl. Barley and mixed grains—nothing more. The aroma was faint, the color nearly gray. But there was no one to complain to, and besides, she had been ordered not to speak. Third day since the transmigration. The profile from last night wouldn't leave her mind. Those quiet fingertips touching the silk painting before the candlelight. But now there was no room to dwell on it. Riko simply brought the porridge to her lips. Lukewarm. Tasteless. (Even back in the modern era, I'd skip breakfast sometimes. Compared to this, that was heaven...) Beyond the dimly lit corridor of the inner quarters, she could hear the maids moving. But none of them stopped before Riko's door. Ignored since morning. It had been the same yesterday, and the day before. The inner quarters—the section of the castle's main keep on the north side, reserved for concubines and attendants. Twelve rooms in total, and now five people lived here, including Riko. Yet among those five, not a single person turned their gaze toward her. No one spoke to her. This is what it means to be a concubine, Toki had said. One's own will is never asked. Food and shelter are guaranteed, but if you bear no children, you may be treated no better than a servant. (Time limit remaining: eleven days...) The previous concubine had been expelled in fourteen days. The soldiers had said so on the day Riko was brought to the castle. As if it were fact. As if it were inevitable. Eleven days. If she did nothing, she would be expelled. In the worst case—she didn't want to think beyond that. Riko finished the porridge and set the bowl down quietly. --- She spent the morning sitting in a corner of the corridor. Leaving the inner quarters was forbidden. Even staying in her room meant staring at walls with nothing to do. Riko hugged her knees and curled herself into the edge of the hallway. That was when one of the passing maids whispered to another. "[whispers]There's supposed to be a military council in the great hall today" "[whispers]Lord Souma called his retainers" The two exchanged only those words before hurrying away. They hadn't even noticed Riko. A military council. The great hall. (...The great hall was on the south side of the main keep, wasn't it?) Yesterday, she had grasped a little of the castle's layout. The south side of the main keep connected to the great hall, with a connecting corridor just before it. Leaving the inner quarters was forbidden, but—the beginning of that connecting corridor was right at the boundary of the inner quarters. Riko thought for a moment. (If I stay right at the edge of the rules...) Curiosity and calculation moved simultaneously. Spending eleven days without understanding Souma would be too passive. There was also a genuine desire to know the meaning of that profile from last night. Riko rose quietly. --- She slipped her body into the shadow of a pillar in the connecting corridor. The boundary with the great hall was just a half-open sliding door. She could see inside from here. She hadn't stepped even one foot outside the inner quarters section—or so she told herself. Riko narrowed her eyes through the narrow gap between boards. The great hall was vast. About sixty tatami mats covered the floor, and retainers sat in orderly rows. More than twenty of them. All with straight backs, barely moving. And facing them all was Shinozuka Souma. Riko gripped the pillar tightly without thinking. He was nothing like the profile she'd glimpsed through the wall gap last night. Dressed in a black *hitatare*, a long sword—*Higanemaru*, Toki had called it—at his waist. He was tall. Easily over one hundred eighty-five centimeters. His jet-black long hair was tied back, and a shallow sword scar marked his left cheek. And his eyes. Cold. Red eyes. Riko thought they were the color of flames reflected from a battlefield. Emotion was invisible. Eyes like a still water surface that reflected nothing. One of the retainers began his report. About border security. There had been negligence at a watchtower along the Minase River since last month. The soldiers on duty had abandoned their posts—three days confirmed. Souma didn't move. He simply listened. After the report ended, there was a moment of silence. None of the retainers spoke. Even from the corridor, Riko could tell they were holding their breath. Souma opened his mouth. "[cold]There is no next time" Just four words. But in that instant, the air in the great hall changed. Riko saw it—the retainers' shoulders all dropped slightly in unison. That feeling of bodies going rigid. Far more frightening than a shout. (Instead of yelling, he'll actually do it...) Riko's hand, gripping the pillar, went still. That voice wasn't a threat. It was simply stating fact. If the same thing happened again, something would truly occur. That certainty rode on the weight of his words. The military council continued after that, but Riko's ears didn't register it. She found herself unconsciously following only Souma's profile with her eyes. --- The military council ended, and the sound of retainers dispersing filled the air. Riko quickly turned to leave. She had to return to the inner quarters. She was turning the corner of the corridor—when it happened. A black shadow came from the front. Her feet stopped. So did his. Shinozuka Souma was looking down at her. The distance was too close. Less than a meter. Riko instinctively stepped back, but the wall was right behind her. No escape. Souma's eyes looked at Riko for just a moment. No emotion. Not appraising, not angry. Simply looking. "[cold]Do not leave the inner quarters" His voice was low. The absence of emotion made it sound even colder. "[cold]If I see you again, you will be expelled" With only those words, Souma walked past her. He didn't look back. Riko had already vanished from his sight. His figure disappeared down the corridor. The black *hitatare* receded into the distance. Riko leaned against the wall. Her knees were trembling. (...He said I'd be expelled...) Terror crashed over her all at once. Regret came with it. Why had she left the corridor? She'd thought she was staying within the rules, but this was the result. If he saw her again, he would truly do it—those eyes had said so. But. Riko slowly pressed her back against the wall and looked down the corridor where Souma had disappeared. (That face... he's killed everything in it...) It wasn't so much that emotion was absent as that it was deliberately erased. The profile from last night, watching the silk painting before the candlelight, and this—they didn't seem like the same person. Yet somehow, separate from her fear, that image caught in Riko's chest. --- That night, she couldn't sleep either. Hugging her knees in her bedding, Riko stared at the ceiling. The countdown of eleven days kept ticking in the corner of her mind. The voice telling her she'd be expelled kept echoing. —The candlelight seeped across the wall. Light was leaking from the next room again. Riko sat up. She hadn't meant to move. But before she knew it, she was approaching the gap in the wall. The same gap as last night. Riko narrowed her eyes through the narrow space between boards. Souma was there. Just as last night, sitting formally, back perfectly straight. The silk painting in his hands. Not the face she'd seen in the corridor just hours ago. No armor, no *hitatare*—just a white sleeping robe, sitting before the candlelight. His profile moved slowly with the flicker of the flame. His fingertips touched the painting. The cheek of someone in the image—he traced it with the pad of his finger, so gently, as if touching something fragile. Riko held her breath. (...Those hands...) The hands that wore *Higanemaru*. The hands that had said there was no next time. The hands that had silenced so many retainers today—were touching the painting like that. He was like a completely different person in day and night. Or perhaps he wasn't a different person at all. Perhaps the man from daytime was the truth, and this man at night was the lie. Or the reverse. Riko couldn't tell. (I want to know the truth about this person...) She realized she was thinking it. Pure curiosity. Fear was still there. She remembered the voice that said she'd be expelled. But separate from that, another emotion was stirring slowly in her chest. Practical thoughts came too. Understanding Souma might be connected to survival. There seemed to be a hint in that profile. How to avoid expulsion—to answer that, she needed to understand what kind of person Souma was. Calculation and curiosity tangled together as Riko quietly pulled away from the wall. --- The next day at noon. As Riko sat in a corner of the corridor, a maid was cleaning nearby. About the same age as Riko, or perhaps a bit younger. A hand towel wrapped around her head, she wiped the corridor in silence. In three days of life in the inner quarters, this girl was the only one who had met Riko's eyes once. She wasn't ignoring her. She simply didn't have the leisure to speak. The girl came near Riko and, while continuing to wipe, glanced around to confirm no one was listening. No one was there. "[whispers]...How are you feeling?" Her voice was small. Barely audible. Riko was slightly surprised but answered just as quietly. "[whispers]I'm fine. Thank you" "[whispers]My name is Hana. I work in the lower service" Hana kept her hands moving, her eyes directed down the corridor. She was positioning herself so it wouldn't look like she was speaking to anyone. A clever girl, Riko thought. "[whispers]...May I ask you something about Lord Souma?" Hana's hands stopped for just a moment. Then they resumed moving. "[whispers]Do you know what happened three years ago?" "[whispers]I don't" Hana nodded slightly. Then she lowered her voice even further and began to speak. Three years ago. At the foot of the Souga Mountains in the north, a bandit gang established a base. Their numbers exceeded two hundred. They ravaged villages in the mountainous region one after another, threatening the domain's borders. Souma personally led soldiers to suppress them. At the end of the battle, the bandit leader offered to surrender. "[whispers]Lord Souma... cut him down" "[whispers]The leader who surrendered?" "[whispers]Not just the leader... all of them, apparently" Riko closed her mouth. "[whispers]After that, he became known as the Demon Souma. Everyone in the castle town is afraid of him. But..." Hana paused for a moment. "[whispers]The old maids say that Lord Souma changed after that battle. Perhaps he lost something. I don't know the details..." With that, Hana finished her cleaning and hurried down the corridor. Riko was left alone, unable to move for some time. (He killed all of them... even though they surrendered...) A cold sensation ran down her spine. Real fear. So he was capable of such things. The weight of his words—"there is no next time"—became vividly real again. But. The image from last night wouldn't leave her mind. That profile before the candlelight, fingers gently caressing the painting. The words Hana had spoken—that he had lost something three years ago—overlapped with that profile. (The woman in the silk painting... she might be connected to what he lost...) There was no evidence. Only intuition. But Riko's intuition was rarely wrong. At least not when it came to reading people's expressions. A man capable of cutting down surrendering soldiers was sitting alone at night, touching a painting with sadness in his eyes. That contradiction existed within the same person—and Riko couldn't stop dwelling on it. --- As evening fell, Riko went to find Toki. Toki was near the kitchen, directing the preparations for dinner. Her gray-white hair was tied back, and c