The carriage ride home was quite noisy.
Basen kept stamping his boot heels against the floor. The reason went without saying—it concerned Consort Risu. Seeing his reaction, the suspicion was practically confirmed, but that would be a problem.
For both Consort Risu and for him.
"Basen."
"What is it?"
Basen looked at Maomao, his unpleasant expression unchanged.
"Judging by how you're acting, there doesn't seem to be any problem with Consort Risu—as a match for Master Jinshi."
"...Ah, w-well, no, I still can't say for sure..."
He stammered.
"At the very least, wouldn't she be happier than she is now?"
"..."
Was he talking about Jinshi, or about Consort Risu?
When Maomao gave a smile that was clearly artificial, Basen bit his lip hard.
(Not that I'm one to talk.)
She wished he would at least consider how his losing composure over his own affairs troubled those around him.
And with that, Maomao set her own faults aside and gave him a firm warning.
The carriage stopped first at Rokushōkan. Compared to the distance to the detached palace, Basen's family home was closer, but Basen's horse had been left here.
Thinking she might as well make up for today's earnings while she was at it, she climbed down from the carriage.
That was when she noticed another carriage parked at Rokushōkan.
"..."
"..."
Maomao and Basen exchanged glances.
Breaking into cold sweats, they climbed down from the carriage and peered through the gap in the apothecary's service window.
There, a masked man sat sipping tea, surrounded by fine confections.
(No, it should still be too early for a visit.)
That was precisely why Ma Shan had come today.
And yet, there was no mistaking the fact that that person was here.
Judging by the variety and number of confections, quite some time had passed since their arrival.
Ma Shan seemed to pick up on the tension in the air as well. His expression shifted—bad. He didn't know what was bad, only that it was. He crept around to the entrance of Rokuseikan and peered quietly inside.
Deep furrows carved between his brows—
Gaoshun—
was—
Zhao Yu—
clinging to him.
He had meant to peek unnoticed, but for a man of martial prowess like this, even that was probably enough to detect a presence.
Those eyes flew wide open, and he rose to his feet, striding over with purpose.
Ma Shan froze on the spot.
Gaoshun approached in silence, brimming with fury, gave Maomao a brief bow, then seized his son's head in his right hand.
"Forgive the intrusion. Jinshi is waiting, so I would be grateful if you could come along immediately."
"...Yes, sir."
With that, Gaoshun dragged Ma Shan off toward the back.
Why did he look less like a mother dog carrying a puppy by the scruff and more like a raptor that had snatched a wild hare?
At any rate, she cast a glance at the young calf being jostled about in the cart.
Maomao too entered the apothecary.
She felt a clammy gaze settle on her. Even behind that mask, the clinging intensity was unmistakable.
"You're late."
(I wasn't told you were coming.)
Maomao gave a slow bow and ducked into the narrow interior. The confections sat untouched. When she had asked what to do since there was nowhere to sit, she was told they weren't needed, so she offered them to Zhao Yu, who had been hovering about, and he wolfed them down with a grin.
Bald
They gathered together and quickly dispersed.
"Where is Maasan?"
"He is being detained by Lord Gaoshun."
"...I see."
He rested his chin on his hand, adopting an arrogant posture. Or was it just her imagination that he seemed particularly sullen?
When Maomao closed the door, he finally removed his veil.
Maomao took an ointment from the cabinet. It was made by blending several kinds of crude drugs and letting them mature for a few days, but it should be fine by now.
"Then, if you'll excuse me."
Maomao knelt down and scooped up some ointment with her fingertip. The wound on Jinshi's cheek had already healed, but the scar remained prominent — a single line across his right cheek. At least there were no stitch marks; that was something.
She gently applied the thick ointment to the scar on Jinshi's cheek, holding her breath so as not to blow on him.
His long eyelashes were lowered. At the end of his gaze were Maomao's fingertips, and it seemed he was following the pad of her finger as it glided across his cheek.
When she leaned closer to inspect the wound, his warm breath washed over her.
(Is this man some kind of flower spirit?)
She had noticed a faint floral scent, and it turned out the tea he had been drinking was rose tea. Yes, that had to be it — she felt slightly relieved.
The ointment she was applying was one her father had once prescribed for a prostitute with burn scars. It didn't make scars disappear immediately, but it improved the metabolism of the area and helped new skin form.
New skin had already regenerated on Jinshi's cheek, but it was reddish and stood out. She wanted to make it less noticeable, even if only a little.
(He could just apply it himself.)
Every time, Jinshi insisted on having Maomao apply this ointment for him. Back in his own rooms, he probably had someone like Suien do it.
If it were Maomao, it would tickle so much she would absolutely rather do it herself.
That sort of thing
upper class
— was that how it was for them?
"Where did you go?"
"...To see Ada."
Maomao answered honestly, figuring that Maasan would be made to talk eventually anyway.
"...In that case."
"Yes, she did come."
He could imagine what would follow "in that case." That was why Jinshi seemed to understand even without any proper nouns being mentioned.
"It sounds like things have been quite difficult for you."
While offering words of sympathy, Maomao was careful to emphasize that it had nothing to do with her.
"Yes. It seems they have all sorts of ideas of their own."
By "they," did he mean Risu's maiden family?
From what Jinshi described, Risu's family seemed to have a structure similar to, yet distinct from, the Rat clan. They had been given the single character "Rabbit."
If Maomao recalled correctly, the families that had received a character from the zodiac were said to be descendants of the loyal retainers who had served when this nation was founded. In other words, Risu's family was just as ancient as Gaoshun's Horse clan.
Now that the Rat clan was gone, it made sense that they would try to elevate their own standing. Sending another daughter into the inner palace to win the emperor's favor—that also made sense. And the proposal to bestow a high-ranking consort, who was not to the emperor's taste, upon Jinshi—that was understandable too.
But there was one thing that bothered her.
(Why would they target their own daughter's life?)
No—wait, that had been Risu's own claim. There was a high chance she was mistaken.
But Risu had actually been attacked.
Was it someone else's agent?
Or...
There was one more thing.
Why Risu was so estranged from her father.
As for being married off to the late emperor, there was nothing to say but "what a shame."
A penchant for young girls.
If Risu's family had known about the late emperor's tastes, sending a young girl would have made sense, but at the time, the late emperor had already fallen ill.
Even if she had been sent there, the chances of her being touched by the emperor were virtually nil.
They could have at least used her as a political tool.
"Hey, what are you so deep in thought about?"
Jinshi looked at Maomao with a puzzled expression.
(No, no)
This matter had nothing to do with Maomao.
Butting in would be tasteless.
But.
"...I have one question, if you don't mind."
"What is it?"
She had been turning something over in her mind for a while now.
"About Lord Ada — he seems to be quite the practical-minded person, doesn't he?"
The way he had treated the emperor like a younger brother yet remained strict in his role as instructor, and how he immediately moved forward with discussions about Jinshi and Risu.
For Maomao, he was easy enough to deal with, but for some people, there would surely be aspects that were hard to grasp.
The question was why such a man, among the many who inhabited the rear palace at the time, had gone out of his way to protect Risu. There must have been other girls brought into the rear palace for similar reasons, yet shielding all of them would have gone well beyond what was expected of him simply as the Crown Prince's consort's instructor.
There was only one possible explanation.
"Were Lord Ada and Risu acquainted to begin with?"
"You're sharp."
Jinshi made a slightly guilty face.
"Lord Ada and Risu's mother were friends."
"Oh my."
"And the current emperor was their friend as well."
"..."
When it turned out the current emperor was also a friend, a quiet question began to stir in her mind: "Hmm?"
Crude, unsophisticated thoughts were deeply rooted in human nature — same-sex friendships didn't raise any eyebrows, but friendships between a man and a woman were a different matter entirely.
Especially when one of them sat at the very top of the nation.
Whether he had read the look on Maomao's face or not, Jinshi gave voice to the difficult thought for her.
"At the time, Lord Ada could not have any more children."
And the emperor at the time was bedridden with illness, and the current emperor, who was then the Crown Prince, had no other consort.
"I hear the Empress Dowager had been making overtures to the Usato clan. Time and again, through her own machinations, the consort's mother was summoned to the current Emperor's palace."
At the time,
Uryū
was her husband, but he was nothing more than a son-in-law obtained through the extended family. He had taken a concubise elsewhere and fathered children, and so as the main house of the Usato clan, there were other matters to consider.
Maomao wanted to cover her ears, but unfortunately, Jinshi had noticed and was holding her in place. His voice was whispered so that only Maomao could hear, his lips close to her ear. The scent of incense and medicinal salve mingled together, a distinctive fragrance tickling her nose.
"Is this really the sort of thing someone like me should be hearing?"
"It's only a rumor. There's no proof."
But a rumor, to those who believed it, was as good as truth. And when it concerned people in close proximity, the nature of it was even worse.
"Does Lady Risu know about this?"
"It would be cruel to tell her."
Now she understood the answer to her earlier question.
Why Lady Risu's father treated her with such disdain.
A slow burn of anger began to rise in her chest.
(What an insufferable man.)
What a petty man he was.
He himself had fathered children with a concubine elsewhere, yet his own wife wasn't allowed to?
Whether the rumor was true or not, Maomao couldn't say.
Had Ada recommended Lady Risu to the Emperor because the rumor was false, or because he simply didn't know about it?
Was it because the rumor was true that the Emperor didn't favor Lady Risu in his bedchamber?
If so, then what would become of the engagement to Jinshi? But she supposed that consanguineous marriages were par for the course among those of high station. As long as they were of different surnames, whether uncle-niece or half-siblings, there was no issue.
But Lady Risu was the only one to be pitied — kept in the dark about everything, used as others saw fit.
"What are you thinking about?"
"You're too close, Lord Jinshi."
Jinshi's lips were still at Maomao's ear.
The scent of rose tea still lingered.
「What are you thinking about?」
「……About Lady Risu having a better」
future
and so on」
He wouldn't say *happier*.
That sort of thing was beyond Maomao's purview.
「Lord Jinshi, please treasure Lady Risu」
「……Right now, I'm fighting the urge to seize the head in front of me and slam it into the wall」
There was a deep undercurrent of fury in Jinshi's voice. And yet it was Maomao's hair that was being pulled out by the roots in his grip.
「If you mean to flog me, I'd prefer cuts over blows. I'd rather avoid any fatal injuries, though」
If it was cuts, there was a remedy she'd been testing. That was preferable to bruising.
「That counter of yours is a new one」
「Look who's talking, Lord Jinshi — you've gotten quicker with your comebacks」
Normally, he would have let things settle and dropped his shoulders by now. Had he gotten a little harder to handle?
「I've learned that going nowhere gets you nowhere」
With that, Jinshi kept his grip on Maomao's hair and herded her to the wall. She shut her eyes, bracing for the impact.
But her head never struck the wall.
Her hair was tugged sharply downward, tilting her face up.
And then something touched her lips.
A soft breath of rose tea entered Maomao. It lasted but an instant — when she opened her eyes, her upright posture had been restored, and Jinshi had turned his back to her.
「……」
Maomao watched his back in silence.
Jinshi, without looking back, pulled on his mask and opened the apothecary's door.
「Come on, let's go」
「Lord Jinshi」
「Wh-what is it?」
Since he was wearing a veil, she couldn't tell what expression he had.
「Please don't forget the ointment.」
Maomao wrapped the medicine in cloth and handed it to Jinshi. He snatched it from her and left the apothecary.
Outside, Basen had a weary look about him, as though he'd been on the receiving end of a scolding, while Gaoshun—who had been the one doing the scolding—looked even more tired.
Once she'd watched all three depart, Maomao shut the door and let out a long breath.
She ran a fingertip across her lips, as if wiping them clean.
"What a pain."
She wanted to take back what she'd said earlier.
He had gotten considerably harder to handle.