"Now then, that wraps things up."
Maomi
had finished her work and stretched. The mountain of papers had been parceled out to the people who should have been dealing with them all along, and Tsukikimi's office was looking considerably tidier than before.
Now, the only people left in the room were Maomi and one other person.
Baryou—
Her younger brother—sat in a partitioned-off corner of the room.
"Ryou, almost done?"
Since it was just the two of them, her tone was easy.
"I'll be done today."
With no one else around, Baryou likewise dropped his formal manner. When he poked his head out, his features had a peculiarly pale, gourd-like quality. Then again, this brother of hers never showed himself—let alone spoke—to anyone he wasn't close to.
"There's a wrong one mixed in."
"Which one?"
Baryou quietly handed over a single sheet.
"This is the matter of the Han Grand Commandant, isn't it?"
"Han...?"
"He's from Luo."
"Oh, that eccentric military strategist."
Her brother was a misanthrope, but he had a firm grasp of who worked in which department and what their names were. He was partial to family, sure, but his mind was sharp. If you took his other brother's useless brawn, added it to his brains, and divided by two, it would have been just about perfect.
"If there's no particular rush, I'll take it over later."
"Is that all right?"
"I don't think it would make a difference either way."
Maomi quietly produced a piece of paper from her sleeve. Printed on it was a summary of the "Go Tournament."
"Oh, so they had something like that."
"Well, since you're on the organizing side, you haven't been doing any real work, have you?"
"Are... are you sure you're okay?"
She hides behind the partition again, only letting her worried voice drift through. The sound of paper flipping rapidly can be heard, so she clearly has no intention of taking a break from work.
"You brought this on yourself, didn't you?"
The eccentric strategist known as
Kan Rakan
apparently didn't get along well with Tsukinokimi. Perhaps that was why, but the one who dumped the most work onto Tsukinokimi was none other than Rakan. Piling mountainous stacks of sorted documents onto her had been Amami's main job as of late.
Apparently, Tsukinokimi had tried to protest several times before, but each time Rakan managed to smoothly dodge the issue. Having a subordinate she couldn't pin down, she always ended up talked into submission.
Now, though, that subordinate had apparently been poached by a different important official. Thanks to that, Amami had finally been able to hand over the documents properly.
Even Tsukinokimi must have been furious about it. Just the other day, she had come to Amami saying, "Can't we figure out a way to make him do his work properly?" And moreover, she said she didn't care what methods were used.
When told that methods didn't matter, Amami had plenty of options at her disposal.
The easiest approach would have been to use Tsukinokimi's name and rally the surrounding court ladies, but she decided against it. After all, she couldn't very well use her own master that way.
So instead, she chose to exploit Rakan's weakness.
Specifically, by using Rakan's uncle, Kan Luomen. The apologetic old physician went to scold his slacking nephew. In the end, by imposing a penalty of ginseng congee if he slacked off, Rakan became considerably more obedient.
Of course, that alone didn't solve everything, and after a few days Rakan started running wild again, so she employed other methods as well.
Take the Go tournament being held today, for one. Initially, he had tried to unilaterally use the palace as the venue, so Tsukinokimi put a stop to it. She managed to arrange a different venue instead, but the problem was that since it would be held in the city, they realized far more people would gather than anticipated.
And so, he proposed using the square near the venue, but that required official permission from the state. The one who had to stamp that approval was Tsukinokimi, and the fact that the tournament was only days away added to the rush.
Apparently wanting his own tournament to be a success, he finally settled down. If he kept piling up unfinished work, there was no way the approval would be granted.
And so, for the past few days he had been working diligently as though spears were raining down on him, which apparently threw the military division into an uproar for a time.
Thanks to that, Tsukinokimi had been able to leave work early, and as for today and tomorrow, she was taking days off—for the first time in who knows how many months.
"Still, it's strange, don't you think?"
"What's strange, Ryo?"
The voice from behind the partition asked back.
"Why a Go tournament, I mean. I thought the Grand Marshal was better at and preferred Shogi."
"...But he's strong at Go too, right?"
"Very. They say the only ones who can beat him are Go saints. But..."
Maliang pauses, as though mulling something over.
"In shogi, there's not a single person who can beat him. He's a monster."
"A monster?"
As if to say they don't even inhabit the same world.
"The Grand Commandant must see a completely different world from the rest of us — complex, bizarre, fascinating. That's probably why everyone around him seems too simple in structure to tell apart."
"My, listen to you talking like some big expert."
Mami peers through the partition at her younger brother.
Surrounded by documents, Maliang clears through the pile without pausing his work.
"The imperial examinations are crawling with people of that caliber. Someone like me? I'd be considered average in that crowd."
"If you're average, what does that make me?"
"You're a sister, a wife, and a mother."
"That's perfectly ordinary, isn't it?"
She was working now, but her children were at home. They were fond of the wet nurse and had already been weaned, so there was no issue.
Her husband was a military officer — whether he was on duty right now or watching the Go tournament, she wasn't sure. He'd been good enough to let her take on work again, so she wouldn't press that point.
"Ordinary is the hardest thing… I'm very envious."
Maliang let out a long breath, then pulled a bamboo tube of tea from the desk drawer and took a sip. Pouring it into a cup would be asking for a spill.
"That's exactly why I don't understand."
Mami almost asked "understand what?" but stopped herself.
"If he's not even human, why does he fixate on something like a tournament — something you seek out for external validation?"
His expression said he genuinely had no idea, and he went back to work. Mami quietly stuck her head through the partition.
"I have another task to take care of, so I'll be leaving you alone for a bit — is that all right? If anything comes up, tell the guards outside."
"…I know, sis."
Feeling a slight twinge of unease, Mami left the office.
She wished she could say work was done for the day, but one more duty remained.
She headed for Lord Tsuki's palace. Drawing close to the inner court meant passing through several gates and presenting her travel documents.
The palace was clean and refined, which might make it look plain at first glance for a residence belonging to the Imperial Prince. But every material used was of the highest grade. Any official who mocked it as simple would essentially be announcing that his taste was gaudy nouveau riche.
She showed her face to the palace guard and was let through.
The moment she stepped inside, a sweet, toasty fragrance drifted toward her. Following the scent to the kitchen, she found an elderly woman baking pastries in square molds.
"Welcome."
The elderly woman—
Suren—
smiled warmly.
"Pardon the intrusion."
She bowed politely and looked at the pastries.
"These look delicious."
"They are. They've turned out well, but I've made a few more to let them cool. I also have some I started baking days ago, so we can do a taste comparison to see which ones taste best."
"How wonderful."
It was a perk for Asami, but she couldn't let herself forget about work. She absolutely must not let herself consider asking for a few to take home as souvenirs for the children. But the thought of how happy the kids would be eating them made her expression soften for just a moment.
"What's the matter?"
"N-nothing. Some are steamed and some are baked, I see."
"Yes. Steamed ones hold their shape better, but the baked ones really bring out that toasty aroma."
The ones with browned marks appeared to have been baked in mooncake molds.
Suren gently cut one with a knife and handed it over.
Inside were plenty of dried fruits, but the texture was nothing like a mooncake.
"Here, try this one too."
She was handed a steamed one. This had a soft, fluffy texture, but that came at the cost of less toasty fragrance.
"Would it be possible to bake them in a steamed-style shape?"
"That's exactly what I was thinking too."
Suren brought over pastries that had been set in square molds. She cut one and handed it to Asami.
"These are the ones."
I couldn't help but feel my face break into a smile. It was fluffy and soft, with the satisfying crunch of walnuts adding texture, while the sweetness of dates and raisins gradually seeped through. Along with the fragrance of cream cheese, there was yet another note of richness mingled in.
"Then try the ones that have been left for three more days."
Asami took a bite. In this one, the fruit flavors had permeated the entire dough. Perhaps to prevent drying, the surface was coated with a sweet syrup, which made it wonderfully moist and delicious.
"...Would it be all right if I took some home for the children?"
The words slipped out before she could stop them. Oh no—Asami quickly clapped a hand over her mouth.
"Oh my. In that case, I'm afraid those aren't available. But you're welcome to take as much as you'd like from what's over here."
How many had she made? When Asami opened the cabinet, she found an array of pastries crafted with all sorts of different techniques.
"The ones you're eating now are reserved for the young master tomorrow."
"Y-yes."
Asami felt a tinge of disappointment, but she popped the remaining crumb into her mouth.
"I was worried about which ones would be best, but these are perfect. Thank you."
"Not at all. But you're finished with work for the day—is that quite all right?"
"Yes. Take a proper rest for once. Just because the children don't need much looking after doesn't mean you can go without seeing their faces—they'll forget all about you."
That stung. She loved her work, of course, but her own children were precious to her too.
"Um, what about Lord Tsukino?"
If he was around, she thought she might pay her respects before taking her leave, but Suren shook her head.
"He's studying with his tutor all day today—best not to disturb him. And of course, we'll have him go to bed early with tomorrow in mind, so there's no need to worry."
"I'd assumed he'd gone to watch the Go tournament."
Asami knew how studious he was, so she didn't find it particularly strange.
"Ah. Well, he hasn't gone yet, actually. But more importantly—Asami, wouldn't you like to become a maid assigned to the young master? Your dedication is clear enough from the fact that he comes home so early."
"...I'm afraid being a lady-in-waiting would be rather difficult. I have children of my own, you see."
If she took the position, she would be together with Suren constantly. As for what sort of person Suren was—her mother, who had been a fellow wet nurse to Lord Tsukino, had regaled her with all sorts of stories, and Asami was certain it simply wouldn't work.
"What a shame. Well, I'll have to find another maid or someone, then."
Suren said this in a tone that didn't sound particularly disappointed. It was almost as if she already had someone else in mind.
Having the pastries wrapped up for her, Asami left the palace.
A pleasant aroma drifted from the package, yet somehow it felt less satisfying than what she had eaten earlier.
Puzzled, she glanced up at the sky.
"Looks like it'll be sunny tomorrow too."
Wondering whether the Go tournament had been a success, she looked down at the parcel of baked sweets. The image of the children's delighted faces floated before her eyes, and hers softened into a warm smile.