A/N: Hello!
Once again, I am truly sorry for how long I am taking with updates. A lot of you have been asking when the next update will be and truthfully, I can never give a definite answer. It all depends on how inspired, motivated and how much time I have on my hands!
Thank you so much to everyone who has stuck by this story and took the time to review or PM me. It means the world to me to hear your feedback.
allyelle~
"A wife of noble character is her husband's crown,
but a disgraceful wife is decay in his bones."
—Proverbs 12:4
.:. 15 .:.
Lady Mirai Sakamaki was not accustomed to waiting. The servants were always prompt in dressing her, even during the drowsiness of dawn; the meat at her table was instant, always hot and crackling, and she, too, would be scolded by her mother if she showed tardiness.
It is rude to make people wait, she mused. Especially when they are so frightful.
She was weary after the day of festivities, the constant flow of wine making her head throb. After saying farewell to her parents and serving ladies, she was escorted to Master Shu's bedchamber, but even after many hours, she remained its sole visitor. It was a warm, gold-coloured room with a stretching view of the forest. Mirai noticed drabs of breadcrumbs scattered across the floor and white scratches on the feet of furniture. She was suddenly terrified that the ancient castle housed rats, or worse, that the young master indulged them!
How she ached to curl into the familiarity of her own bed, in her own house, not pacing at the thought of sharp pain and bloodied bedsheets.
Mirai was no innocent fool. She had heard wedding-night horrors and gossips from her serving girls who giggled about tales of honeying men into the long grass.
But it was not the pain alone she was fearing. It was the failure of not being able to provide a child for her husband—an heir for such an elite family. She did not want to be locked away and replaced, but it was possible. After all, Sakamaki wives did not have a history of good fortune.
Perhaps if her mother had produced an abundance of issue, would she be possessed by the same fears? Minoru Akiyama had not shared a single feature with her daughter, but what if she had unknowingly inherited the same barren womb?
Her mother had taken time to brush her hair before the wedding ceremony, her thin lips in a permanent frown at the frequency of frizzed knots.
"My daughter, I pray your womb to be rich with sons," she murmured. "Do not fail your husband as I have. I do not wish your heart to be as heavily troubled as mine."
Her mother could do no more; she had prepared her for this role as early as she could remember. Only God had control over life and death, and Mirai prayed he would bestow her some kindness.
Mirai had her back to the door when it finally opened. She spun at the sound, wide-eyed and heart thumping. "M-My Lord! Where have you been at this hour?"
Outside, the sky was tinged blue-grey, the birds nesting in the forest treetops rising to greet the new day. Minus his ivory tailcoat, Shu Sakamaki still wore his attire from church, the metallic paisley embroidered into his waistcoat gleaming silver in the firelight. His face was smudged with dirt while needles of straw poked from his hair. He smelled of horses. Mirai cringed, realising she had been forsaken for… livestock?
"What an eager thing, waiting for me until the birds sing," he drawled, ignoring her inquisition. "You will have your own room after tonight… this is just a formality."
Or simply, you will be a bother to me only for tonight. Her shoulders slumped.
He snorted, unbuttoning his waistcoat as he strode to the dresser. The informality of their situation made her flush. She was suddenly aware of the thinness of her night shift, her undressed hair, her bare feet. It was daunting. All her life she had been taught to maintain poise, and now here she was, starkly dressed beside a man she barely knew.
"Hah… disappointed? You look like a woman who snores, and I cannot have my sleep disturbed."
Mirai buried her offence and angled her chin. "I understand," she replied. "You know best, My Lord."
He looked bored by her response. He was the type of man who lived for the bite from a provoked bear. She was worried that she would not be enough to entertain him.
Mirai closed her eyes when he fetched his night garments. However, when she reopened them, she found Shu lay on the bed with his arm sprawled across his eyes, looking to have every intention to sleep. She did not know which emotion found her first—confusion, relief or regret.
Blinking, she blurted: "W-Would you like me to undress?"
"Eager woman… I have no desire to see you naked," he said, then lower, "perhaps I will give you to the triplets. You're much better suited for their taste."
She recalled green eyes and piano music. Her insides stirred.
Mirai swallowed, hovering at the foot of the bed. "My Lord, it is the way—the marriage must be consummated."
Shu pushed himself back against the headboard and glared.
"You are either a lustful woman or a stupid one. You do not want this—no woman wants this. Now, go to sleep and be quiet… I am weary. My conscience can survive another lie."
But she was not finished. Would this be how they lived their days, not sharing a bedchamber and never lying together? Her failure to produce an heir would be solidified without an attempt. She could not bring such shame to her family, or to herself.
"Please, My Lord. I want this. I want to fulfil my duty to you and to our families."
He yawned. "I don't."
"But… My Lord, you are a man."
"How conceited of you… just because you're easy on the eye, woman, do not assume every man wants to bed you."
Mirai's eyes thinned. She had prepared herself for a forceful husband, not a difficult one. Although she knew the young master's reputation to be apathetic, she never imagined his lack of will to be stretched this far.
"Is it wrong for me to assume it of my own husband, My Lord?"
Shu did not answer immediately. Finally, he exhaled and said: "Duty is overrated." Yet by his working lips, Mirai imagined he wanted to say a good deal more.
"It is not," she countered. "You married me out of duty to strengthen your house, My Lord. Please be responsible in completing it."
Once more, he was hesitant before his answer. Mirai was sickened by the thick silence between them.
"Is this… the kindness you want?" He asked her, biting out the words like they were poison on his tongue. He did not meet her eyes when he spoke them; they were fastened to his hands where a feminine-coloured jewel sparkled in the bedside candlelight.
Mirai nodded and came near. Shu removed his ring.
She did not catch the name he sighed when his hands fisted the pillow and their clammy foreheads touched.
But she knew it was not her own.
.:.
Mirai awoke to bright yellow noon-light spilling through the window. Sleep clung to her eyelashes, her groin sticky and her insides beaten, she was afraid to check the bedsheet for bloodspots. Mirai felt no different; no more a woman or a wife. Only increased vulnerability, like she had been stripped of a precious, life-long secret.
Master Shu slept, distanced, with his back turned towards her. The air whilst they slept had been humid, and in a bothered frustration, the layers of blankets were kicked away, covering very little. Mirai's eyes found a peculiar patch of scarlet skin, pluming up like smoke from his tailbone and across his spine. It was burn-like, as though a blacksmith had seared his skin with a hot iron.
She was curious and resisted the temptation to rouse him—had he been burnt as a child? Was it a natural oddity? Or a mark of sin, cast down from the Holy Father? No, she would not mention it. He did not seem like the type of man to react positively to nagging inquisitions.
Feeling fortunate that she had woken first, she reached and rang the bell to summon her servants. The serving ladies arrived as prompt as they had in her homebred manor house, silently padding around the room as they dressed her, wincing if one should tread on a squeaking floorboard.
Mirai wished they would make conversation with her. The castle would be a desperately lonely home if the only words spoken were: 'yes, My Lady' and 'which gown today, My Lady?'
She almost wept for her mother.
She left the chamber on the hunt for breakfast—or rather lunch, by the late hour she woke. However, it would have been wise to get a tray of food brought to her room, for when she arrived at the main kitchen, the cooks and maids startled, clumsily rushing to bow. Mixing bowls were dropped, earthenware shattered, and perfectly ripe vegetables bruised. Mirai went scarlet.
The only person who hadn't fussed was the youngest lord, Subaru Sakamaki. His eyes were slitted in her direction while one hand fisted around the handle of a woven basket, the other bursting juices from an apple.
"It's you," he said, casting his gaze to the clock hanging between two arched windows. "You've been here five minutes and you're already as lazy as that bastard."
Mirai hung her head. "M-My deepest apologies, please continue with your work. I did not intend to cause such a distraction."
Subaru discarded the fruit shell and whacked the sticky juices from his fingers. He snatched two steaming, glossy honey-cakes, seeming to care little for the cook's flaming eyes.
"Oh, young master!" She swatted the air with her towel, wafting plumes of flour. "There won't be enough for dinner!"
Wearing the ghost of a smile, Subaru marched out of the kitchen with Mirai nipping at his heels.
"You're a lady, get breakfast to your room or something," he said without a backward glance. "Don't keep fucking startling the cooks. It'll make the food bad."
They both nodded; Mirai in submission, Subaru in farewell. But, with hands still pinching her skirts in curtsy, she called out to him.
"S-Sir, please wait!"
With a terse jaw, Subaru spun around. "What do you want now?"
"I beg your pardon sir, but are you leaving the castle this afternoon?"
He stomped closer, and she thought the marble tiles beneath his boots would crack.
"And what if I am, huh? What's it to you?"
Mirai shrunk. "I-I was wondering if I might accompany you... I would be grateful for the fresh air."
"I ain't your fucking babysitter, woman. Ain't you got a husband to irritate now? Go get some fresh air with him," Subaru said, then under his breath, "he fucking needs it these days..."
"You are right in your refusal of me, but..." She wrung her hands. "I do not think my husband to be of a very... um, willing nature."
In their silence, he considered her.
"Suppose you think I'm more fucking willing to go about my business with a thorn in my side, hah?"
Mirai gave a defeated smile. "Forgive me, sir. I hadn't wished to burden you. I will not think of it again."
Additional quiet and a gruff sigh followed her words, until a sticky lump was slapped into her palms. A honey-cake, hot and bubbling sugar. Mirai pursed her lips and blew, fearing her skin would blister. She would have been grateful for a napkin, or at the very least a plate, but it was not the time, nor was she with the person to complain to.
"You plannin' on eating that while horseback? You don't look like you have the brain to manage both," Subaru said. "You did marry into this shit show of a family, after all."
.:.
Although she had taken the forest path many times, Mirai had never done so by horseback. A carriage had always been fetched to preserve her appearance. A laugh bubbled in her throat as she imagined her mother's frown at the thought of her windswept, leaf-embedded hair and her perfume extinguished by the horse's stink.
But there was something beautifully freeing about galloping through the rough terrain, steering her own journey, the beast underneath her heeding to her commands. Her dark eyes were giddy, her mouth aching from smile.
"Master Subaru," she panted, "do tell me, where are we going?"
"To give some Sakamaki charity, that's where."
Their horses slowed when they approached a thatched cottage, guarded by an array of brilliant blooms. One side of the house was sunken, the roof dipped. It was as though a very tall, heavy fellow had stumbled across the place and decided to take a seat. But it did not seem in need of repair; the faults only increased its character. Mirai had travelled past the abode many times with her mother, but she only stole glimpses through the gaps in trees. In her mind, the place had attached a juxtaposing stigma fuelled by her mother's tales of loose morals and wicked intentions.
"S-Sir," Mirai started, pulling the young lord back. "Do you know which woman lives here?"
Subaru barred his teeth in offence, snatching out of her grip. "Do you? If you'd prefer better company, I'm sure those fucking chickens would be delighted to offer a lady some tea."
Mirai berated herself. It was not in her nature to enforce premature judgements based on her mother's slander. She was an obedient girl, but she questioned. She questioned her mother's tongue concerning Laito on the night of her engagement, as she questioned her mother's view of the Sakamaki brothers' temperament in comparison to their father.
Then what had induced her rashness?
"Master Subaru, you have my apologies," she began, tucking a stray curl beneath her bonnet. "I am usually not so rash to cast judgement. Well, not judgement exactly, no..." Her brows knitted. "Shamefully, I fear for my—our—association with a woman at the centre of a moral scandal. What will Lord Sakamaki, or my husband—"
Subaru scoffed. "Your husband? Bet Yui could tell you more about him than anyone ever could."
Her eyes widened. She felt a sudden chill, despite the warmth of the afternoon.
"They... they are acquainted?"
However, before Subaru could provide an answer, the cottage door swung back its hinges. A young woman peeped around the doorframe; she was clad in a faded blue, flour-caked apron, her lightly freckled cheeks rising to smile at the man before her. Mirai almost believed her scarlet letter to be a fabrication of gossip, but it was impossible to overlook. It glowed on her breast, as vibrant as a ruby, a foreign object against her tattered clothes.
"Subaru," she said, with a hint of reprimand. "I saw you through the window and thought it wise to open the door before you came crashing through it—" Her words ceased once she cast a glance over the young lord's shoulder. She reddened, curtsied, and bowed her head. "Oh! Goodness, My Lady! I was not expecting—"
"Makes two of us," interrupted Subaru as he barged his way into the cottage.
Yui gave her a lovely, albeit uneasy smile. "My Lady, please come in. You are most welcome."
Mirai dipped her chin and followed Subaru into the house. Although it was a poverty stricken home, it did not smell as such. The soft, balmy aroma of freshly baked bread hung in the air, and with the windows wide, the sweetness of spring. There was a hint of lavender, as though it had been dabbed upon her pillow at night to encourage restful slumber.
A wooden cradle faced the stove, the flames splashing long, black shadows across the floor. Yui snapped the door closed and gestured for them to take a seat. There were three seats: a fat, stubby stool, a rocking chair, and a single dining chair, the woven stems forming its backrest punctured and spiked.
"Tea?" Yui asked.
"One sugar, no milk, if it is not too much trouble," said Mirai.
She sucked on her lower-lip and nodded, turning to Subaru.
He scoffed. "Fuck no. Brandy. I know you have a stash in the cupboard."
Yui flushed. "Those are for medicinal purposes. It is not right to drink so early in the day, Subaru... need I remind you of poor Shu's pea-green tailcoat? I do not think he would be pleased to be called upon to assist you home again."
Subaru cursed and darted his head to the fire. His cheeks darkened, and Mirai could not decipher whether the cause was embarrassment or the emitting heat. He took up the woven-backed chair and cocked his feet onto the stool. Mirai sat closest to the stove, her boots catching an old, soot-blackened quilt. Once Yui disappeared to fill the kettle, her attention wandered to the cradle. She gasped and jerked backwards, the rocking chair propelling her to her feet.
Her commotion had woken the child, its slow whimpers bubbling into screams. Instantly, Yui reappeared, sloshing the kettle water in her frenzy.
"Evie, shush, shush now," Yui breathed into her child's white-blond head.
"She hates people," Subaru commented, standing.
Yui exhaled. "Perhaps she learns from them."
Subaru vanished beyond the curtain separating the living space and the kitchen, the sound of rustling and clinking glass ensuing. He returned with a bottle of brandy, tossing the cork aside with his teeth.
The child's patch of scarlet skin was as vibrant as her mother's letter in the firelight. It was slightly raised, and she imagined if her fingers brushed against it, they would blister, as hot as the honey-cake slapped into her palms a few hours prior.
I have seen the same markings before, Mirai realised.
"My Lady?"
Mirai's attention refocused. Yui stood before her extending a cup, her face fogged by the swirls of steam. Mirai thanked her and sat, cringing at the chipped earthenware and its absent handle. She danced the cup from hand-to-hand, wishing the tea would make haste and cool.
Their silence stretched. She heard every breath, every awkward creak from her chair. Mirai sipped her tea; it was made with honey, not sugar.
"I trust Master Shu is in good health?" Yui said from her place beside the mantlepiece; Subaru was unwilling to shift his feet from the stool.
"He is well," Mirai replied. "Mistress Komori, I understand you are well acquainted with my husband?"
Yui was startled by her assumption. She swallowed and inclined her head. "Yes, I have known him and Subaru since we were very young."
Her rosy eyes glazed over and a gentle smile played on her lips, as though lost in a fond memory.
Mirai rocked forward, spilling a little tea on her skirts. "Has he always been so... indifferent?"
"Only on things he considers so. But on things which truly matter... no. He is not," Yui paused in thought, her fingers circling the rim of her cup. "He was passionate about many things when he was young... music, and of course, animals." She laughed while Subaru rolled his eyes and swigged his bottle. "He loves animals more than people. After all, I imagine they are the only company who does not command him." Their eyes met. "Master Shu can come across as cold, but he is a kind man, My Lady."
Is this... the kindness you want?
Those were the words he had spat at her. Most men would have been forceful, selfish, and unrelenting with a new bride on their wedding night.
But Shu Sakamaki had not.
"Remember his smile, if you are lucky enough to see it," Yui beseeched. "Not the mocking one, no. There is one where his eyes shine bright and tender. It will be the best thing you ever did see."
Unsteadily, Subaru plonked the near emptied bottle onto the floor. "Jeez, Cricket. Listen to yourself. Anyone would'a thought you were in love with him."
Yui rounded on him. "I love him as I do you. Please do not suggest something so impolite in front of his," she hesitated, "his wife."
"Both of you, please," Mirai intervened. "I am not offended. Mistress Komori," she smiled. "I thank you for enlightening me on my husband's character. This information will serve me well."
Yui's gaze was fixated on her hands. "Y-Yes, well it was nothing..."
The alarming knock at the door made Mirai's stomach plummet; Yui's brows drew in confusion. She wove through the chairs and unbolted the door.
"Shu!" Her voice was shrill. "W-What brings you here?"
"What an interesting scene..." He drawled, his eyes skirting past Yui's body. "My new wife, stolen by my brother to seek the company of strange creatures in the forest. How unfortunate I had not been invited to join."
Yui's lips parted, but the words were lost.
"You've got a fucking nerve showing your face here," Subaru slurred as he stumbled from the chair. Dark liquid trickled from the neck of the fallen brandy bottle. "Pay your woman some damn attention or other people will."
Shu did not rise to the challenge; he was poised, bored.
"I don't care," Shu said, swiftly setting his stare onto Yui. "A worthy woman would not stray from lack of attention."
Suddenly, Yui rushed into the kitchen, returning with a cloth strewn over her shoulder and a bucket swinging from her side. She kneeled and mopped, her movements ferocious. Mirai could not tell if she was angered or embarrassed.
"Forgive me," said Yui, terse. "But I must collect Sora from the church. He is not fond of walking through the forest alone."
Shu hummed and handed Mirai a letter. It was her family's crest pressed into the seal, but it had already been sliced open.
"Unfavourable," Shu considered the word on his tongue. "Hah... I think jealous is better fitting. Believe what you want, woman... I have little time for gossips. Subaru," he turned to his brother. "You thought it wise to bring the woman here, so she is your responsibility to return. It is tiresome being your chaperone... I will not be responsible for another."
Mirai withdrew the folded parchment from its envelope. It was penned in her mother's small, neat hand.
Dearest Mirai,
I pray that you are well? I am writing to inform you of my visit in one month's time. I intend on bringing the company of Doctor Reiji Kasei to relieve my nerves and assure me of your good health. He attended to your father this morning and I was alarmed at the unfavourable review he had of your husband! I dearly hope he is tolerant of you, child.
Until then,
Mother