Through the window of the eastern chamber, moonlight filtered in with quiet persistence. The silver glow pooled across the tatami, patient and still. Saya sat upon her bedding, knees drawn close to her chest. *Soichiro's words...* What he had told her in daylight. The truth behind the broken engagement. The secrets hidden within these castle walls. And then—Nobuhiro calling her name. Just her name, spoken plainly: *Saya*. That single word echoed through her chest again and again, refusing to fade. She pressed her palm against her heart. Thump. Thump. The rhythm of her pulse, audible in the silence. *Why am I...like this?* When she thought of Nobuhiro, her chest grew restless. Anxiety and something else—something unnamed—twisted together inside her. A cold-hearted warlord of the Warring States. A man who opened his heart to no one. Yet he had spoken to her. He had called her by name. However small that gesture might be, it held enormous weight for Saya. She turned toward the