Five days had passed since the matter of the medicinal bath. In the inner garden, Sayo stood among the shadows of the afternoon. Water drawn from the well swayed gently within a wooden bucket. The day was clear, the sky stretched high and pale, thin clouds drifting across its expanse like brushstrokes. "Lady Sayo, you truly are industrious," Otake said, her voice carrying a note of admiration as she worked the washboard. Her hands moved with practiced ease, scrubbing the fabric with rhythmic precision. Beside her stood Oyuki and another young maidservant. "No, it is only natural that I assist everyone," Sayo replied quietly, rolling up her sleeves as she reached into the bucket to retrieve a length of cloth. The water was cold. The sensation seeped into her fingertips—so different from the washing she had done countless times in the modern world. There, a simple press of a button had sufficed. Here, each piece of fabric demanded careful, deliberate attention, washed by hand with pa