Toki stepped barefoot onto the cold hallway floor, a towel loosely draped over his shoulder, steam from the communal bath still clinging to his skin like a second layer. The air was filled with the scent of wet wood, boiled herbs, and warm stone — a perfume of a foreign house, yet welcoming. He stopped at a wide window, pushed open by a gentle breeze. The steam had stayed behind. The world outside looked clean, fresh, alive.
The garden stretched before him like a canvas of calm. Among rows of irises and lavender bushes, a feminine silhouette moved carefully, bent over the flowers. The morning sun kissed her blond hair, making it appear as though it burned lightly. Tora. Without realizing it, he smiled.
He descended the steps with quiet, almost playful footsteps. The thought of surprising her, seeing her jump, maybe even squeal in surprise, amused him like a child. Perhaps it was silly — to play with someone who had saved you. But Tora wasn't made of porcelain. She had fire in her, a spark he had respected from the very beginning.
He slipped through the blooming shrubs with footsteps light as evening wind. Tora was bent over, gathering calendula flowers into a woven basket. She hadn't heard him. Hadn't sensed him. She was focused, her expression calm and concentrated. In that stillness, his thoughts swirled — so simple, yet so strong. What if he'd met her in another time? A more peaceful, cleaner one?
Without warning, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her into the air.
— "Hey!" she yelped, in a burst of surprise. "Toki!!"
He laughed and spun her gently, just like he'd once seen a father playing with his daughter in a mountain village.
— "Did you forget me already?" he laughed. "I was only one bath away!"
— "Put me down, Toki!" she whined, though laughter colored her voice. "What's wrong with you? Are you insane?!"
— "Maybe! But I'm crazy happy that you're safe!"
With a sudden twist, she turned in his arms and bit his hand hard enough for him to feel it, but not to truly hurt.
— "Ouch!" he said theatrically, putting her down. "That's your thank-you?"
— "One more like that and I'm not talking to you anymore!" Tora said, wiping her hands on her linen apron and turning toward him, lips tight but eyes sparkling with amusement.
— "Are you okay?" he asked, voice softer now. "Really okay?"
She looked at him for a moment, silent. Then nodded.
— "Yes. Thanks for asking. What about you? The wounds?"
Toki looked down at the arm she'd bitten. Then at the one with the scar from the skirmish with the asasin.
— "Utsuki. It's all thanks to her. She has the hands of a healer, even though she trains like a warrior."
Tora sighed and set down her basket of flowers.
— "Yeah, she trains hard. I saw her last night, on the training grounds, after everyone else had left. She thinks no one sees her. But I... I think she's preparing for the royal selection."
Toki blinked, surprised. The thought hung in the air.
— "She didn't say anything... Why didn't she tell me?"
— "Maybe because she wants to earn it on her own. Not with your support or anyone else's. Or maybe... because she's scared. She's human too, Toki. She has her shadows."
He fell silent, a knot forming in his chest. Not pain, but recognition.
— "She's stronger than she seems," he said. "But lonelier too."
Tora looked at him for a moment, with a tenderness she didn't often show.
— "She's lucky to have you. And... I feel safe here too. Even though it all seemed strange at first."
— "Ah, about that..." Toki said, scratching his neck. "It's going to take a while until your grandfather's inn is repaired. Leonard says it's costly and will take time. So... you'll probably have to stay here a while. With me."
— "I already know," Tora said with a small smile. "Leonard offered me a temporary job. As... a maid. And I accepted."
— "A maid? You?" Toki's eyes widened. "A warrior with a fiery soul... in a white bonnet?"
— "Don't push your luck," she laughed. "It's nothing special. But the pay's good, and... I need the money. For my dream."
Toki tilted his head.
— "You have the heart for it, Tora. And the hands. And courage, too. Did Leonard see that in you?"
— "I don't know. But... he's a strange man. In a way... he reminds me of you."
— "Oh no. I hope I don't seem that mysterious and hard to read."
— "No," she giggled. "You're just annoying. But... a charming kind of annoying, sometimes."
They looked at each other for a moment. Not long, not with promises. Just the quiet of two souls who had found each other without asking. A kind of peace earned on long, dusty roads.
— "Come on," she said, picking up the basket and nudging Toki with her shoulder. "You ruined my harvest. Now you're helping me finish."
— "By the lady maid's command, I obey," he said with a laugh, kneeling theatrically. "Just don't move your calendula kingdom too far from me, Queen Tora."
— "Better serve in silence, knight, or you'll end up head-first in the well again!"
— "Oh no... not again?"
Their laughter rose among the flowers and sunlight, in that garden which for a moment was no longer just a manor's courtyard, but a sanctuary — a pocket of life where war, death, crowns, and pasts faded.
Because there, in the scent of calendula and wet earth, two souls were slowly learning how to live again.
Toki was still chuckling softly, wiping the corner of his eyes with the back of his hand, when a cold shiver ran through the garden air. A sudden silence fell over the colorful petals, like a cloud on a sunny day.
— Ahem, said a sharp voice.
Tora and Toki turned toward the courtyard entrance. Yuki stood there, arms crossed and a granite expression on her face. Her hair was perfectly tied back, and the snow-white indoor coat gave her the air of a camp commander. No one would dare ignore her — not even a general.
— It's time to take your measurements for work clothes, she said in a cold, nearly monotone voice. Surely you don't expect to stay here for free, do you?
Toki opened his mouth, but Tora discreetly tapped him in the ribs.
— Better follow her, she whispered. She's the type who'd measure the bugs if they were on the estate.
— She's like a hawk with scissors, Toki replied just as quietly, and the two giggled.
Yuki turned without another word, but her voice rang out, sharp and clear:
— I heard you.
Tora stifled a laugh. Toki followed, shoulders slumped like a man walking to his execution, but the smile never left his lips.
Inside the manor, the hallways were colder, but full of life. The air carried the scent of lavender and old wood. They arrived at a large room, dimly lit by tall windows draped in heavy curtains. The wardrobe.
The atmosphere here was completely different.
Suzume, Haru, Natsu, and Aki — the manor's four seamstresses — fluttered around the room like a swarm of colorful butterflies. Fabrics, ribbons, measuring tapes, and pins flew from one side to the other in a choreographed chaos. When Tora and Toki entered, it felt like everything stopped for a moment.
— Aaaah, finally! said Suzume with a wide smile. I thought Yuki had already buried you in the garden.
— Glad you survived, Natsu giggled.
— Not for long, murmured Tora, though her smile widened despite herself.
The triplets — Haru, Natsu, and Aki — rushed at her without warning.
— Wait! Hey! Not like that! — protested Tora, but it was already too late.
Skirts were pulled over her head, the corset was tightened with brutal precision, and in just moments, she stood in the middle of the room, dressed in an elegant black dress with a tight white sash, lace cuffs, and a tiny bonnet perched on her head.
— You could still fight off a thief in that, said Toki, admiring her. Might even take him down with a tea tray.
Tora crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.
— Say one more thing and I'll strap your bonnet to your neck. Forcefully.
— It'd go well with my eyes, he replied with a defiant grin.
As laughter still filled the air, the triplets turned to him.
— Now you, Mister "Muscles," said Haru, already pulling out a sober, dark gray jacket.
— I'd rather not scare you with my measurements, he tried to say, but it was far too late.
They slipped a white shirt on him, fitted the vest and jacket, but the cut was… too small. His shoulders cracked slightly, and when Toki moved, the buttons groaned in protest.
— Mmm... I think we have a problem, said Natsu, frowning.
— We have a spare suit, said Aki. Master Leonard's.
— Isn't that a bit... official? asked Tora, eyeing the subtly silver-embroidered outfit.
— It's the only one big enough for him. And honestly, said Suzume, it looks better on Toki than on Leonard.
Toki took a deep breath as the uniform was placed on him. The fabric was soft, of rare quality. He felt... noble. Elegant. It was as if someone had placed an old mask on him and made him step into another era.
— Wow... he murmured. I feel like a kingdom's heir.
— You look like one, said Tora, surprised.
— Except... — Yuki entered the room, scrutinizing him with her critical gaze. — ...your hair looks like it fought a bird and lost.
Without waiting for his permission, she pulled a silver comb from her sleeve and dug it into Toki's hair. The boy winced.
— Hey! Hey, what are you doing?!
— Turning a catastrophe into a decent presentation. Hold still.
The comb slid through his unruly hair, dragging out the occasional painful sigh.
— Didn't you say you didn't want to look like a lunatic? Well, I don't want anyone thinking the manor's servants were raised in the woods!
Tora clutched her stomach, laughing. Suzume collapsed into an armchair, howling. The triplets giggled like schoolgirls.
— Done, said Yuki at last, placing the comb back in its place. Now you look decent. Maybe even... dangerously attractive.
— That almost sounds like a compliment, said Toki, still rubbing his scalp.
— Don't get used to it, she replied, exiting the room like an elegant storm.
Tora stepped closer to him, eyeing him from head to toe.
— Well, Mister Butler... I think I can let you carry my tray without shame.
— And I hope I'll be able to breathe in this suit.
— I wonder what Leonard would say if he saw you.
— He'd probably ask me to serve his tea
— Or he'd say you look like his long-lost son.
— Then I'd hide in the cellar.
Their laughter slowly faded, but their smiles remained.
Leonard, drawn by the laughter from the dressing room, stepped into the room with measured steps. His gaze fell on Toki, who, dressed in an elegant butler's uniform, looked like he had stepped out of an old painting. The warm afternoon light reflected off the fine embroidery on his vest, and his barely combed hair seemed sculpted by a skilled artist.
"Interesting," Leonard said with a faint smile. "You said you didn't want to be a nobleman's knight, but your appearance betrays you."
Everyone burst into laughter, and Toki dropped his shoulders dramatically, playing the role with exaggerated resignation.
"It's not my fault these clothes make me look like this! They jumped on me like they were called by blue blood!"
The laughter intensified. Tora even slapped the worktable, trying to hold back tears. Haru winked at Toki.
At that moment, the door opened again, with near-military precision. Yuki stepped into the room, her expression serious but calm.
Her eyes fell on the wall clock, then on Toki.
"It's time for dinner," she announced. "Tobi, go and call Utsuki."
Toki froze for a second.
"My name is Toki, not Tobi," he replied, slightly irritated.
Yuki shrugged with elegant indifference, her tone calculated:
"Details."
Then she turned and left the room.
Toki crossed his arms, watching her leave.
"She could've at least called me Tofu. That would've been cuter."
Tora gave him a friendly shove.
"Come on, noble knight. Show her you know how to knock."
Toki exited the room and made his way down the eastern wing corridor, where Leonard had told him Utsuki's room was. As he moved away from the dressing area, the sounds of merriment faded, replaced by an almost solemn silence. The walls were adorned with fine tapestries—mythological scenes and embroidered cherry blossoms. The walnut wood floor creaked gently beneath his steps.
He stopped in front of her door, hesitating.
"What do I say? Hey, come to dinner, Yuki sent me? Or maybe... do you need help? No, that sounds lame. Hmm."
He looked at the golden handle, then drew in a deep breath. So many questions spun through his mind: Who was Utsuki, really?
Finally, he gathered his courage and knocked. Short, rhythmic taps.
A warm, calm voice responded immediately:
"Come in."