"What business might you have?"
Uryū said from his assigned seat, his displeasure undisguised.
Seated along the long table were Uryū and his two subordinates. The opposite side held Ranhan, , Rikuson, , and Maomao, .
He was already irritated at being summoned by a younger man of lower standing, and the sight of Maomao at a dining table clearly didn't sit well with him. That was understandable—conventional wisdom held that women should keep out of sight on such occasions. A mixed-gender banquet like yesterday's was the exception.
On the table, dishes pre-ordered in advance were already laid out. They hadn't been stingy enough to serve yesterday's leftovers.
"Haha, is she catching your eye?"
Ranhan said, glancing at Maomao.
"No, it just struck me as unusual. You're not known for keeping company with women, Lord Ranhan."
Uryū gave a tactful reply. Given that Ranhan had no reputation for such things—and was the type to take offense—this was probably the safest response.
"She's my younger sister."
"Oh, your sister? This is the first I've heard of it."
Uryū's eyebrows twitched. That was fair—Ranhan's adoptive father was supposed to be his uncle, Rakan, after all. Everyone knew the story of how Rakan had driven out his own father and half-brother to seize the family headship.
So what exactly did that make this "sister"?
Normally, Maomao would have ground Ranhan's toes to a pulp and then generously applied some salve, but she held back.
As it happened, this seemed to have piqued the interest of the previously sullen Uryū.
"Well, my foster father is also technically a man. I'm the daughter he had with a prostitute."
None of that was wrong. Maomao said nothing more, simply watching their reactions.
The ones who openly showed their surprise were Uryū's subordinates. They stared at Maomao as though examining something rare.
"I was brought into the Inner Court, technically, but with this face, as you can see. So I was simply sent right back home."
That was also not wrong. But somehow, it was irritating.
"But still, if you're Lord Ranhan's daughter, even born of a concubine, wouldn't you normally be treated with more care?"
Hmm. They weren't wrong about her appearance, but it was a fair point. Besides, that old man hadn't been the one to send her into the Inner Court in the first place, so there was no need to explain that. It was a bit special and complicated.
"Haha, Father would probably say, 'I wouldn't give my daughter to someone with no eye for quality.' He'll probably start bragging before long."
She didn't think he would actually brag, but if he did, the words would surely be even more extreme.
Having piqued their interest, Rahan moved the conversation forward.
"Now then, shall we get to the main topic?"
Rahan pulled a sheepskin document from inside his robe and showed it to Uryū.
Uryū's eyebrow twitched.
"What is this?"
"It's about a business opportunity that looks quite promising going forward."
Rahan smiled, his glasses glinting. Uryū was said to have a natural talent for business. Starting with Maomao's story before pivoting to the real agenda was not a bad way to capture interest. At least, from Rahan's position...
(This bastard.)
If word got out about who Maomao's parents were, it would be trouble, but that probably didn't matter to this guy. If anything, he was likely thinking he could use it as a bargaining chip.
But it was Maomao who had asked Rahan for help in the first place. She couldn't exactly complain now.
(I'll figure all that out later.)
Right now, there were more pressing matters to attend to.
Rahan cheerfully went about launching his new business venture. He seemed to be making full use of the information he'd obtained from that Airin woman, or whatever she was called.
If what that woman said was true, then going forward, Saaou could fall in line with the Northern Alliance. Even if that doesn't happen, there's a high chance they'll be plagued by food shortages.
In the former case, a wartime demand surge would occur. If they stock up on what's needed now, prices will skyrocket later.
In the latter case, new export goods would increase. If they send grain north as a substitute, they'd likely buy it. Food products take a long time to transport and normally can't turn a profit given the current geographical conditions. However, if they're willing to pay more than they do now, there's the option of shipping surplus rice and wheat by boat.
(That is, if our country has surplus food.)
If we were hit by locust damage ourselves, we probably wouldn't have any to spare for outside. Even so, as a diplomatic tool, it might be possible.
That much, Maomao couldn't figure out.
What she did know was that Rabann looked very grim. It was Maomao who had made the request, but it seemed he had no intention of wasting the opportunity.
It was supposed to be a dinner, but they'd been so absorbed in conversation that the food had gone cold—what a waste. When Maomao glanced over, wondering if she could eat, a plate of food was quietly set before her. With a gentle expression, Rikuson had arranged it.
Hmm, they looked nothing alike, but this diligent habit was...
Gaoshun.
It reminded her of him. She wondered if that old man was doing well. He was probably struggling as always, what with having to deal with Jinshi.
In Maomao's eyes, Uryuu looked like nothing more than a small-minded man, but watching him converse with Rabann, she supposed he must have some business sense after all. He didn't take everything at face value—while probing here and there, he was still weighing whether a profit could be made. That said, with Maomao and Rikuson nearby, he wouldn't go any deeper than that.
When Maomao noticed that Uryuu's mood seemed to have improved slightly and his complexion looked better, she quietly nudged Rabann under the table.
Rabann glanced at Maomao, then looked back at Uryuu as if nothing had happened.
"The food has gone somewhat cold, hasn't it? Shall we have fresh dishes prepared?"
Rikuson opened the entrance with a perfectly natural movement. And as though they'd been waiting for just that cue, servers appeared carrying dishes.
However, the servers' expressions were somewhat somber. Maomao understood the reason well.
Steaming fish dishes were set out one after another. Seeing them, Uryuu's expression—who had been in high spirits—changed. Whether they read that shift or not, the servers flinched.
Just the other day, a server who had recommended a fish dish to Uryuu had been punished. And yet everything they'd brought was fish, so naturally their faces had paled.
Of course, it was Maomao who had given that instruction.
"For an inland region, the fish here is remarkably fine, isn't it?"
Rabann could afford to enjoy the fish dishes, but Uryuu's complexion was terrible. Given his position, he could probably decline. But he seemed reluctant to say why.
It was then that Maomao finally spoke up.
"That was two years ago, wasn't it—do you remember the poisoning incident at the garden party?"
Ukyou's eyebrows twitched ever so slightly at the sound of Maomao speaking up, but that was all.
"Ah— the incident where Consort Gyokuyou was targeted, wasn't it?"
That was the official story, at least. Whether Ukyou knew the true target behind it all was another matter.
It didn't matter either way. Maomao would simply talk about what had happened back then.
"Consort Risu had broken out in hives all over her body at the time."
"...Is that so?"
The atmosphere practically screamed, "What does that have to do with anything?"
"There was something inedible among the dishes served at the garden party. What was it again—oh, right, it was the fish vinegar salad."
"..."
Ukyou's gaze changed.
He stared fixedly at Maomao.
"At the time, I was also posted to the inner palace, so I was present at the scene."
Risu had always been timid by nature. Even so, she tried her best to put on a brave front. So she must have eaten the vinegar salad despite knowing full well she couldn't tolerate it.
A vinegar salad was a dish of raw fish or meat. But when using raw ingredients, there was always the possibility of hidden toxins. With blue-backed fish, parasites could develop, rendering them unsuitable for raw consumption. Eating such would result in food poisoning.
But these were palace dishes, and moreover, food meant for the Emperor himself. They would never serve anything harmful. Besides, if it had been a case of poisoning, the other consorts and the food taster should have been affected too. Since no one else was, Maomao had figured it must be a matter of individual constitution.
And she knew well that such constitutions were often inherited from one's parents.
"Consort Risu's attendants didn't seem to be very capable ones. Even when there were ingredients she couldn't eat, they dismissed it as mere pickiness. With a rash covering her skin, she wouldn't have been able to appear before the Emperor."
A man of considerable business acumen could not possibly fail to understand the implications by now. Even so, Maomao pressed on.
"By the way, every dish served at that garden party was something His Majesty personally enjoys."
An unexpectedly health-conscious bearded fellow. Perhaps that was the secret behind his nighttime vigor.
Maomao alternated her gaze between the fish dish and Uryuu.
"It seems you're not particularly fond of the fish dish. Shall I have them prepare something else for you?"
Maomao said this in a polite tone, though her expression—which only Raban could see—clearly ordered him to "hurry up and get it ready."
Rikuson, ever attentive, went to speak with the servers waiting outside the room. Precisely because he was a subordinate of that eccentric strategist, he was remarkably perceptive.
Maomao looked at the fish dish as though nothing had happened. She was stealing glances, wondering whether she could eat it, when she noticed Uryuu staring intently at her.
"Wait a moment," Raban signaled with his eyes.
Maomao decided to wait just a little while longer, until a different meat dish was brought in.
After that, the meal continued for about half an hour, but Uryuu remained quiet throughout. He seemed to be pondering something, yet at the same time, he appeared uncertain—as though he couldn't quite make up his mind.
However, his reaction was different from what Maomao had imagined.
(Could it be that he wasn't the one who tried to have his daughter attacked by bandits?)
Consort Risu had, after all, been attacked in the streets.
Was he perhaps feeling remorse over that, and now in a state of shock?
Or perhaps...
(This is way too simplistic.)
Letting emotions drive him to attack Consort Risu would not have been a wise choice. If he had actually orchestrated it, he would have done so much sooner.
(...)
"I'm sorry, but..."
Just as Maomao was groaning and about to return to her room, Uryuu called out to her.
"I feel like I've seen you somewhere before. Could it be that you were the one doing the taste-testing back then?"
"..."
Maomao offered a vague smile and gave a slight bow.
"Why would I be the one doing the taste-testing?"
"No, it seems I was mistaken."
When Maomao answered so brazenly, he backed off. She was doing her best to keep her fixed smile from trembling.
(He remembered.)
No, no — a cold sweat broke out all over her body.
At that garden party, just about all the important people should have been present. Except for that oddball who had a habit of skipping such affairs.
She should have at least switched up the type of makeup a little. It was two years ago, and she hadn't expected him to remember. In fact, nobody had paid her any mind during the banquet.
Still, being identified as the same maid who had been tasting poisons with a smile on her face would be a problem.