Day 5: Ballroom Dance
Music flowed through the grand ballroom like a graceful river, the light footsteps of nobles twirling in sync with the melody. Chandeliers sparkled overhead, casting a golden shimmer over the polished floors where, at the center of it all, Crown Prince Kazuo was reluctantly leading a dance with the Four Princess Consorts.
Each of the four women—Suzuki, Rei, Miharu, and Akane—wore their court smiles well, elegant and composed, but a flicker of shared discontent glinted in their eyes. Kazuo mirrored the feeling exactly, his expression that of a man enduring a diplomatic execution.
It was a carefully orchestrated event. A symbolic public gesture meant to maintain the illusion that all was still balanced—that the nobles who had backed each consort still held their share of influence through Kazuo, even though their hearts now belonged to Rin.
Rin, meanwhile, stood at the edge of the ballroom with Izumi and Aya, arms crossed, gaze thoughtful. Unlike the onlookers mesmerized by the sight of the crown prince dancing with four radiant women, Rin was calm, almost detached.
"…He looks like he's dying inside," Rin murmured.
"He is," Izumi replied with a snort. "Kazuo hates this kind of thing. He's a good dancer, but not when it's this political."
Aya hummed. "I think the consorts are just waiting to see if you get jealous."
Rin rolled his eyes. "They know this is a farce. Kazuo's playing his part, they're playing theirs. No one's enjoying it."
Up in the upper level balcony, the Four Empresses were watching closely, wine in hand, expressions unreadable as they evaluated the consorts' performance... and Rin's reactions.
"They're doing fine," Empress Asami said, sipping delicately. "But seducing that boy will take more than public events."
"He's too guarded," Minako agreed. "Only shows his heart when it comes to family."
"He shows affection, yes," added Nao, "but love? That's buried under layers of self-denial."
"He's just like his father in that regard," Hikari said with a sigh. "Quiet, noble-hearted, and completely oblivious when it comes to affection."
Back below, Rin was still watching quietly when Izumi nudged him.
"Would've been easier if they didn't fall for you, huh?"
He let out a long breath. "It would've saved a lot of complications. I never wanted their love."
Aya smirked. "Well, too bad. Past is past. You were Shimizu Rin to them before you were Hoshimi Rin. The man who helped, saved, or inspired them. That's why they love you."
Rin didn't answer, but his gaze softened.
The music slowed, and the consorts exchanged polite nods with Kazuo as the dance ended. They returned to their seats with practiced grace, stealing glances toward Rin—who, in their eyes, had not so much as flinched during the entire dance.
They knew he wasn't the type to react outwardly. But still… even a flicker of jealousy would've been nice.
Just then, Izumi leaned into Rin and whispered something, and Aya followed, poking at his cheek with her finger. They were teasing him about something—something ridiculous, probably about romance.
Rin's eyes narrowed, lips twitching into a devilish smile. He reached out, grabbed both of their heads, and gripped them together with firm, merciless pressure.
"Ow—ow ow ow! Riiiin!"
"Mercy! This is abuse of your sisters!"
" You two should really understand that I have a limit to your teasing...." Rin smiled not amused as he carefully added a little more pressure....
" We're sorry! " The two sisters begged for forgiveness as Rin taught them a lesson with a smile on his face...
The consorts paused in their seats, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes.
There it was. That ease. That natural expression. Rin's affection hidden beneath exasperation, warmth wrapped in mischief. It was something they rarely got to see—because with them, Rin was still distant. Still careful.
Akane sighed. "He doesn't treat us like that… Can I really have moments with Rin like that when he knows my real self..."
Miharu twirled a strand of hair, eyes wistful. "That smile…"
Rei crossed her arms. " Even his teasing is closer with them... Back in the trip he gave careful teases at a distance... "
Suzuki watched in silence, a faint tinge of jealousy in her eyes. "I want to be part of that world."
They knew Rin cared. He wasn't cold. But what they longed for was the familiarity—to be treated not like powerful women or political allies, but like loved ones. Family.
And in that moment, each one silently vowed the same thing:
"One day, he'll smile at me like that."
After playfully releasing his two sisters—who dramatically clutched their heads and whimpered like scolded puppies—Rin turned his gaze toward the Four Consorts.
He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable but calm as always. Then, with a quiet sigh, he stood and walked toward them.
The consorts straightened instinctively, the slight tension of anticipation tightening in their chests.
Without a word, Rin took a seat beside Akane, casually reaching into his sleeve and offering her a pristine handkerchief. His movements were natural, his tone cool but gentle.
"You're sweating," he said, as though explaining why he'd bothered.
Akane blinked in surprise, slowly taking the cloth. "...Thank you."
He then glanced toward the nearest servant and gave a short command. "Water. For all four."
The attending maids bowed and rushed off, while the consorts' own headmaids—Rina, Yori, Fumiko, and Emi—watched quietly from behind, waiting for any signal.
But none came.
Because the Four Princess Consorts were too stunned to speak.
Rin… had come to them of his own volition. He didn't speak to all at once, nor shower them in attention, but the gesture—the ease of his presence—felt different from the usual, distant formality.
He looked at each of them, eyes steady, and checked, "You're all alright?"
They nodded, quietly.
Of course they were fine. They were warriors, nobles, sorceresses. The dance hadn't even tired them. But the fact Rin asked, unprompted, acknowledging their effort—it struck deeper than any lavish praise.
He didn't need to say more. He knew they were trained for this life. Knew they already understood the game of nobles, the masks they wore. And so, instead of flattery or concern, he gave what he always gave:
Recognition.
Then, almost as if sensing their wavering hearts, Rei let out a teasing breath and grinned. "Rin, don't tell me you came here because you were jealous of Kazuo dancing with us?"
Miharu leaned in, slyly adding, "Maybe you couldn't take the sight of us with another man…"
Suzuki, calm as always, gave a faint smile. "Or perhaps you were just drawn to us unconsciously."
Even Akane played along, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "A true fiancé coming to check on his brides… how romantic."
Rin raised an eyebrow and looked at them quietly.
Then, with maddening serenity, he answered, "Aren't I the real fiancé here?"
The words weren't teasing.
They were matter-of-fact.
And just like that, the four women fell silent.
Because he was right.
Whatever the world saw, however much they danced with Kazuo for the sake of appearances—they belonged to Rin. Each of them had chosen him. Fought for him. Loved him.
And now he reminded them, in his own calm, cutting way, that he hadn't forgotten.
Their hearts skipped, their throats tightened, and for a moment—just one precious moment—they were not consorts, nobles, or public figures.
They were his.
And that quiet, undeniable claim…
…meant more than any public display ever could.
As Rin rose from his seat, preparing to quietly leave, Kazuo appeared from behind, placing a hand on his younger brother's shoulder with a sigh that said everything.
"Our mothers told me to call you," Kazuo muttered, face showing a clear expression of exhaustion.
Rin tilted his head slightly, already feeling a headache coming. "Another task? We've done enough the past few days… What more could they want now?"
"No clue," Kazuo shrugged. "But they said it's important—a letter from someone named Higashi Harumi."
Rin stopped mid-step, blinking. "Harumi?"
At that single name, the air around the consorts seemed to shift.
"The Harumi?" Akane muttered.
"The one who worked with him in the White Flower Palace?" Suzuki added, eyes narrowing slightly.
"The one he trusted the most back then…?" Rei folded her arms.
"…The one who always got to stand beside him." Miharu's voice dropped ever so subtly.
They all fell into quiet thought.
She wasn't one of them. But she was someone dangerously close. A woman Rin had never spoken of often—but never distanced either.
Someone who couldn't become his fiancée.
But perhaps… if circumstances were different…
Kazuo continued. "The letter had your full name, Hoshimi Rin, and hers as the sender. They want you to confirm if it's truly from her. It also came with a gift."
Rin paused, then gave the consorts a smile—gentle, practiced, distant.
"I'll take my leave now, ladies."
He turned and walked off, the fabric of his robes whispering as he exited. The consorts stared after him, quiet and still.
Imperial Hall — Empresses' Quarters
Rin entered and gave a respectful bow.
The four Empresses were seated in a half-circle, and it was Minako, the Black Empress, who held the letter—twirling it casually between her fingers like a dagger.
"Confirm it," she said simply.
Rin took the envelope, opened it with precise movements, and scanned its contents. His eyes paused midway, and before long, a chuckle—genuine and full—escaped his lips.
The letter was unmistakably Harumi's.
"Dear Rin. Or rather… Hoshimi Rin, huh? Honestly, it suits you.
You always were suspiciously good at everything.
But since you never told me, I figured I'd let you keep your 'big mysterious secret'. I'm nice like that.
PS: I found this knife that reminded me of you. Not because it's sharp and dangerous—but because it's the kind you used to make me your godly sukiyaki with.
Advance happy birthday. Don't overthink things. I'm busy lazing around."
Attached was a beautifully hand-forged chef's knife, one that shimmered with craftsmanship.
Rin softly laughed again. His shoulders, usually stiff with composure, relaxed.
The four Empresses exchanged glances.
Nao, the Azure Empress, narrowed her eyes slightly.
Hikari stared openly.
Asami quietly tilted her teacup, analyzing him.
Minako watched like a hawk.
"That smile…" Hikari murmured aloud, "That's the one he hides."
Nao added sharply, "And the way he laughed—like he dropped his armor."
Asami sighed. "He's usually never this open. He always stays composed—even with his fiancées."
Minako, fingers still tapping the chair, finally spoke. "This Harumi… she has something none of the others do. He trusts her effortlessly. That's dangerous."
Rin, meanwhile, folded the letter neatly and slipped it into his inner robe. "It's fine. She's trustworthy. If she weren't…" He smiled faintly. "I would've personally killed her."
The room fell silent for a beat.
He wasn't joking.
That was how far his trust in her went.
And the Four Empresses knew—
This Higashi Harumi was not just some woman from Rin's past.
She was a piece of his heart. A piece that remained intact even after stepping into the world of politics, romance, and royal duties.
Then Rin looked up, almost boyish in expression. "May I use the kitchen? I want to try the knife."
The Empresses didn't stop him.
As he left, they quietly etched a name into their minds:
Higashi Harumi.
The girl who made Shimizu Rin—and now Hoshimi Rin—smile like that.
The door closed with a gentle thud as Rin left for the kitchen, letter tucked safely in his robe, eyes slightly brighter than usual.
The Four Empresses were silent for a long moment.
Then came the collective sigh.
"As expected of him, giving permission for an outsider to know an Imperial secret…" Hikari muttered, arms crossed and brow furrowed.
"She isn't just an outsider," Minako corrected, tapping her finger against her thigh. "The letter clearly showed she's known for a long time—and said nothing."
"And Rin…" Asami said softly, "Rin isn't someone who hands out trust like sweets at a festival. If he gave that girl this much of it…"
"…It surpasses what he's given to even his fiancées." Nao's voice was quiet, but sharp.
The room fell into stillness once more.
"He seriously loves that girl," Minako said at last, cutting through the quiet.
"That's the truth," Hikari nodded, her voice subdued for once.
"Still… we've confirmed something valuable." Asami offered a brittle smile. "Operation Seduce Rin is possible. We've seen him open up. Relax. Smile genuinely."
"But this development won't bring joy to the consorts," Minako added.
"No," Nao said simply, "because the man they love… clearly has someone else inside his heart."
For a moment, the weight of that statement lingered.
"…Don't dwell on the details," Minako said at last, brushing invisible dust from her sleeve. "Rin already knows. He's trying to move on. That girl isn't here. He decided to live this life."
Nao closed her eyes. "I want to support his love for that woman… but I also feel that doing nothing is the right move."
"Why's that?" Hikari raised a brow.
"Something about her… Harumi… she feels familiar. Not in identity, but in presence."
"A déjà vu?" Asami asked.
Nao nodded. "Exactly. A lingering sense… like she belongs in the same place as the consorts."
Minako narrowed her eyes. "Is that your intuition talking, Nao?"
"It is."
Hikari gave a low whistle. "Well, if it's your gut, then I'm inclined to believe it. Your sensitivity to fate might not match someone chosen by it, but you've always been close."
"She feels like one of them," Nao whispered, almost to herself. "Like she's meant to be part of this stage."
"…Then fate's not done moving yet," Minako murmured.
With that, they finally shifted focus—turning toward the preparation scrolls.
The Year-End Celebration began tomorrow.
And for now, everything seemed to be going well.
At least on the surface.
In the quiet warmth of the palace kitchen, Rin stood at the counter, sleeves rolled, hands moving with precise and practiced ease.
The Imperial kitchen staff had frozen in place the moment he entered, eyes wide, breath held. It wasn't every day that the Second Imperial Prince strolled into their sacred space—much less to cook.
They were terrified something disastrous might happen.
Until Kazuo, followed by Izumi and Aya, entered behind Rin.
"He's not here to scold anyone," Kazuo assured with a sigh. "We're just observing a rare event."
"Take a break," Izumi added with a wave. "We'll take responsibility."
The staff nodded nervously and shuffled out, bowing deeply.
Now it was just the three siblings watching their brother—once Shimuzu Rin—in his natural element. Rin, who once worked as the First Apprentice of the White Elder in the White Flower Palace. Rin, whose life had once revolved around quiet mornings, clean floors, sword dances… and the smell of warm food.
He moved gracefully, cutting potatoes and meat with fluid, almost lazy efficiency.
Aya leaned against the wall. "He's seriously cooking…"
Izumi nodded. "Skillfully. Like—he's done this a thousand times."
The sound of his humming reached their ears—low, casual, and undeniably cheerful. It was not something they heard often.
"He's in a good mood," Kazuo murmured. "Was it the letter?"
Izumi tilted her head. "Probably. And that knife's new."
Aya's eyes narrowed. "A gift…?"
"Harumi," Kazuo answered. "He mentioned it came from her."
That name caused a quiet ripple among the siblings. They had heard of her before. The woman who was closest to him during his time as Shimuzu Rin. The woman he trusted implicitly. The woman who—despite knowing he was a prince—kept it a secret out of respect.
Now here she was again, changing his mood with a letter and a gift.
They had been forced to come, of course—Rin had literally dragged them in under the guise of "testing the new blade." But truthfully? None of them minded.
Especially not when the food hit the table.
Warm. Savory. Seasoned perfectly.
It was delicious.
"This is…" Aya mumbled between bites, "better than half the chefs here."
"Don't let them hear you," Izumi smirked, but her chopsticks never stopped moving.
Kazuo simply ate in silence, eyes drifting to his younger brother.
There was Rin, smiling proudly at their reactions. Beaming, even. Radiating a smug, radiant joy that seemed to scream: Yes. Bow before the cooking lord. Taste my glorious creation.
It was ridiculous.
It was Rin.
And it was rare.
The three siblings could only exchange glances. They had seen this look only a few times before—when Rin was truly happy. No masks. No burdens. Just himself.
And it was all thanks to a single letter from that girl named Higashi Harumi.
After clearing up, Rin gently wiped the knife and placed it inside a leather roll—his personal chef's toolkit he had brought back from the White Flower Palace.
He looked at it with a quiet fondness. A piece of his old self.
The three siblings said nothing, but they watched closely.
This wasn't just cooking.
It was memory. It was emotion. It was connection.
And for now, Rin was smiling again.
As the meal winded down, Izumi crossed her arms and gave Rin a sideways glance.
"You're grinning too much," she teased, "over a knife. You sure you're not in love with the sender?"
Aya leaned in playfully. "Yeah, brother, you're glowing. You look like someone just confessed to you."
Rin, still gently wiping down the knife, let out a soft chuckle. "Maybe it's because… she is someone I love."
Their teasing faltered.
Izumi blinked. "Wait—really?"
Aya's expression tightened with realization. "…More than the consorts?"
Rin let the silence hang in the air for a moment before sighing, his voice quieter.
"Yes. But I'm trying to forget her. I have responsibilities now. The Empire… the consorts… my identity. Still, just this small gift—just this knife—was enough to make me happy again."
He glanced toward the window, his expression distant.
"Even if she's far away… I can't help but want to see her. Even though I've promised to care for the consorts—those who are now tied to me."
Kazuo leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Brother…"
"I still have too many questions about this world," Rin continued softly. "And I can't be selfish. I can't pursue Harumi. Not anymore."
"Yeah…" Kazuo said with a tinge of regret. "You probably can't. You have four fiancées now, Rin."
Rin turned to his older brother, the edge of his voice sharpening. "It's your fault for being empty and cold back then, Kazuo. You should have been their center. Not me."
Kazuo didn't argue. He smirked instead, a little bitterly. "And it's your fault you crossed their paths and treated them kindly. That's on you."
A wry smile curled on Rin's lips. "True enough."
Izumi, trying to lighten the mood, nudged Rin with her elbow. "Still, maybe don't smile that much when Harumi's name comes up. The consorts might go ballistic."
Aya grinned. "Yup. For their peace of mind, we'll keep our mouths shut."
Rin gave them a thankful nod and pushed a second bowl of food toward them. "Here. Peace offering."
They accepted it, of course.
As they dug in again, Rin leaned back and exhaled deeply.
"Fate is funny sometimes," he murmured. "The day I met Harumi… it was my first day at the White Flower Palace. She just stood out. Like… someone who was going to be important to me."
He stared into the candlelight, his voice growing softer.
"I never would've thought she'd become my first love."
Silence fell over the room again, not heavy, but reflective.
"First loves usually end in tragedy," Rin said with a faint, melancholic smile. "So I guess it's expected. But… I don't regret it. Not even a little."
He reached into his robes and gently touched the insignia pinned near his chest—the symbol of his Second Imperial Prince status.
"I'm still a prince," he whispered. "So I can't be selfish."
He looked at the three of them in turn—Kazuo, Izumi, and Aya.
"You understood that since we were kids… didn't you?"
None of them spoke for a moment. They didn't need to.
They just quietly nodded, finishing their meal as Rin leaned back in his seat, eyes still chasing a memory only he could see.
Rin took a deep breath, letting it steady him as he slowly calmed his expression. The warmth in his eyes faded into his usual composed demeanor.
"Well," he said lightly, "since we have a little time before our next duties… what do you three want to do?"
Kazuo raised an eyebrow. "You switch gears fast."
Rin smiled faintly. "It's a skill we all had to learn."
"That's only you, brother," Aya said with a smirk.
Rin chuckled at that, the mood lightening.
"I just want to nap," Izumi said, stretching her arms. "In our secret spot in the garden… the one where Mother can't find us."
Kazuo nodded. "That actually sounds perfect. Let's go."
Rin stood up with a rare, mischievous grin. "Yeah, if we stay here any longer, they'll sniff us out and give us another 'urgent task.' Let's vanish while we can."
"Agreed," Aya chimed in, already slipping toward the exit like a sneaky cat.
And so, like they used to when they were younger—when the palace felt more like a cage than a home—the three siblings, now older and burdened with far more titles, duties, and secrets, ran.
Sneaking through back corridors and hidden passageways they memorized as children, they made their way to the quiet corner of the palace gardens, where wildflowers grew tall and the trees offered comforting shade.