Miyo woke up early as usual. Wiping tears from her face, she got out of bed. The previous day, Kiyoka had told her, “You must obey my every order. If I tell you to get out, get out. If I tell you to die, die.” Since she’d been subjected to those same rules growing up, it hadn’t seemed like an unusual request, so she’d readily agreed.
When she’d left the study looking unperturbed, Yurie had been visibly relieved. She’d then showed Miyo to her new room. It was furnished only with the bare necessities: a futon, a desk, a chest of drawers, and a clock. For all its austerity, it was more spacious than the servant’s bedroom Miyo had used before. Even the cozy bedding was of much better quality.
Miyo had hardly any luggage to unpack. She’d put her clothing away in the drawers, excused herself from dinner, and gone straight to sleep. That had been all for that day.
After waking up feeling fresh and well rested, perhaps thanks to the comfortable futon, she stood in her room with her head tilted to the side in uncertainty.
What should I do now…? She’d gotten up before sunrise like always, but that wouldn’t be necessary once she married Kiyoka, the head of the Kudou family. Miyo’s stepmother never got up this early. Miyo wasn’t to live as a commoner but as the wife of an eminent noble, and wives of eminent nobles didn’t do the cooking or cleaning.
But…I don’t have any other skills.
She used to take classes in flower arrangement, tea ceremony, traditional dance, and koto until her stepmother had put an end to them, but that had been so long ago. What little she could remember now would undoubtedly be of nominal use. The chances of a practically uneducated girl becoming the wife of Kiyoka Kudou seemed slim to none.
Still, she couldn’t just stay in her room doing nothing. She eventually settled on helping fix breakfast. While it would be out of place for Kiyoka’s bride to do the cooking, she reminded herself that her presence here was incongruous in the first place. However hard she might have tried, Miyo couldn’t have emulated your typical wealthy married woman, just sitting there looking pretty in nice clothes, gracing people with delightful smiles. If she was going to be rejected regardless, she might as well make herself useful in her own way until then.
Besides, she wanted to help Yurie, who wasn’t a live-in servant. Even in her old age, she commuted to the house every day in time to prepare breakfast before her master awoke. That must have been hard on her. If Miyo could relieve her of that burden, it would make Yurie’s life a little easier. She hoped that would be an acceptable excuse if her unseemly actions provoked an outrage.
The pantry is well stocked with everything I could need. I’ll cook rice, make miso soup… There’s also dried fish; I can grill that. Then I just need to think of what vegetables to use for side dishes…
She made a list in her head as she checked the cupboards to see where the utensils were kept. Incredibly, this cottage in the woods had its own water supply. Miyo got the fire going in the oven and began cooking.
Even though her family employed a chef, Miyo was quite capable in the kitchen. If she hadn’t learned to make her own meals, she wouldn’t have eaten. Strictly speaking, she was neither a servant nor a rightful member of the family, meaning she hadn’t been entitled to the lavish meals her father, stepmother, and half sister enjoyed or even the rations provided to the help. She’d only been able to use leftovers from the kitchen to scrape something together for herself. If there had been nothing left after the cook had finished preparing food for everyone else that day, she would go without eating.
Miyo’s breakfast preparations were well underway when the kitchen door slowly slid open and Yurie peered in.
“…Miss?”
“Good morning, Yurie. Oh…I’m sorry for using the kitchen without asking you first.”
“Good morning, Miss Saimori. You mustn’t apologize. You’re the young master’s fiancée, so you can do as you please.”
Yurie smiled cheerfully, dismissing Miyo’s concerns with a wave of her hand. Rather than be cross with her, she was apologetic for having forced Miyo to trouble herself with the kitchen work.
Maybe I shouldn’t have done this…
It seemed Miyo had only made the older woman embarrassed in her eagerness to help. Feeling glum, Miyo hung her head, but she looked up again with surprise when Yurie gently placed a warm hand on her back.
“As you can see, miss, I’m a wrinkled old lady. I’m truly grateful for your help.”
“I-it’s nothing…”
The small old woman’s earnest smile moved her so much, her response got stuck in her throat.
“Well, the young master won’t be getting up for a while. I shall tend to my other duties, if you don’t mind finishing up here on your own?”
“Not at all, if that’s fine with you.”
Yurie nodded, satisfied with Miyo’s answer. She quickly donned her apron and hustled out of the kitchen. Miyo was still a little crestfallen, but she focused on the cooking she’d been entrusted with. Yurie kept checking in on her as she worked and let her know when Kiyoka was about to get up. Miyo transferred the dishes she’d made to bowls and plates. There was steaming white rice, miso soup with wakame seaweed and deep-fried tofu, boiled vegetables—which she’d prepared well in advance so that they had thoroughly absorbed the flavors of the seasoning—and freshly grilled dried mackerel scad, which smelled delicious. Last was blanched spinach with dashi broth, as well as pickles. It wasn’t as good as the work of a professional chef, but she was nonetheless quite proud of how it turned out.
Accompanied by Yurie, she picked up the breakfast tray and headed to the living room. There they found Kiyoka, sitting cross-legged as he pored over a newspaper. It was the first time she’d seen Kiyoka in his military uniform. He cut a dashing figure with the top of his shirt leisurely unbuttoned.
Yurie had told her it was customary in this house to serve food on trays with legs, so the dining table had been put away. Miyo noticed wooden chairs left in a corner of the room.
“Good morning, Young Master. Breakfast is ready.”
“Morning. Yurie, don’t call me that in front of people.”
Kiyoka was stunning even while pouting. So much so that Miyo became overwhelmed and had to avert her gaze.
“Young Master, it was Miss Saimori who prepared your breakfast this morning.”
At that, he seemed to finally realize Miyo was also in the room. He folded his newspaper and looked at her with narrowed eyes. She was so used to being ignored that she’d have been happy to have gone unnoticed. If anything, the sudden scrutiny made her uncomfortable.
“…Did she, now?”
“She did. And she was so adept that I just left her to it.”
Miyo braced herself for his fury. For him to shout that his future wife shouldn’t be dirtying her hands with such work. But as she was about to find out, Kiyoka had very different concerns than she could have imagined.
“Sit over there,” he commanded, his gaze as steely as his tone of voice.
She sat down in front of the breakfast tray she’d just placed before him. Kiyoka wasn’t reaching for his chopsticks.
“You try it first.”
“S-sorry…?”
She couldn’t possibly begin her meal before the head of the household. Her family had drilled it into her that her betters ate first, so now she was hesitant to comply with his request. At Yurie’s insistence, she’d brought her own tray, too, but it hadn’t crossed her mind that he would ask to have breakfast together. She hadn’t thought she was allowed to.
When Kiyoka saw that Miyo made no move to eat, his expression turned even more grim.
“You won’t eat it?”
The deep growl of his voice made her shudder, which he promptly misinterpreted.
“I, um…”
“Hmph. You poisoned it, didn’t you? It was only too obvious.”
“What…?”
“Poison?!”
Kiyoka ignored Yurie’s shout. He stood up from the floor.
“I won’t eat food that might have been tampered with. Take it away. You’ll have to try harder next time.”
With that, he left the room. Flustered, Yurie followed after him, leaving Miyo on her own. She turned deathly pale as it finally sank in that Kiyoka suspected her of making an attempt on his life. He wouldn’t eat food someone he didn’t trust had prepared… Just then, she remembered that her father, too, was always on his guard. Being in power meant living with the constant threat of assassination. Kiyoka must have also been targeted numerous times; men of high status feared poison above all other methods of murder.
How could I have been so blind?
She’d only just arrived and had already asked Yurie to let her do the cooking. Anyone would find it suspicious that a young lady from a noble family volunteered herself for the task and did it well. Maybe that hadn’t occurred to Miyo because she was desperately trying to make herself useful to avoid being put out on the streets. She’d failed and made a grave error right from the start. If only she’d stayed put. She was thankful that he hadn’t cut her down on the spot.
She picked up the chopsticks with her trembling hand and took one bite of the rice, which had dried out a bit by then. Even though it was nothing new for her to eat a cold meal alone, somehow the food felt as heavy as if she were eating stones.