WHISPERS OF A BUTTERFLY • Kamisato Ayato

fourteen. 十四

A letter from the Tenryou Commission arrived, saying that they wished to deliver their best meals to you in apology for the behavior of the officers that had insulted you.

You obliged. A letter from Ayato followed shortly after requesting an audience with you to discuss economic propositions. The last thing you wanted was to see him. But you obliged again. You wondered if this was your future: frequent back-and-forth meetings with a love that died before it could even see the light of day.

Your meeting was formal and stiff, and you opted to sit in chairs in Chisato's father's office instead of the tatami floor, making the room cold and stern. Ayato offered you his private stack of neat accounts of every complaint for government assistance. They displayed the mind of someone who was trained for leadership since he could walk. It distressed you how most of them were better than anything you could have come up with.

"The Yashiro Commission is your biggest ally in Inazuma," he ventured. "Outlanders who circulate the economic flow of goods in and out of Inazuma are handled by the Kanjou Commission, but our events invite people in. Hence, I am sure we can cooperate quite smoothly."

To be professional, you hid your sourness. Ayato could choose to leave if he wanted, but he didn't. You didn't want to credit him with the generosity of helping you. It painted a different portrait of him—not the heartless king you'd conjured up to hate, but a man who was genuinely trying. It reminded you of the boy who used to annoy you in Komore Teahouse. The cheeky boy who kept beetles for pets just to watch your face contort in disgust.

Your hand brushed against his when he handed you another scroll. His eyes flickered down to them for a moment before coming back up.

"I take it your hand has been healing nicely?" he asked, tone light.

"It's been functional since your help, sir," you said.

His eyebrows wrinkled for a moment. Both of you skirted around the fact that you'd kissed that night with ease, but were well aware of the fact that it did happen.

It was deep into the afternoon before a messenger officer from the Tenryou Commission arrived to deliver your peace offering meal from them. Thoma announced the arrival, as he had accompanied Ayato to Ritou. You had been so absorbed in documents that you'd forgotten you were hungry until the officer set down plates of sakura shrimp, sushi, and mixed yakisoba before you with a note. Then you were starving.

"Hold on," Ayato said as you reached for sushi. "Who delivered this?"

"The Tenryou Commission's minor clans," said the messenger who brought it in. "They mean an apology for their behavior towards Lady Hiragi after the failed wedding last week."

"Look, they even wrote a note telling the lady to enjoy the meal," Thoma pointed out, peering over your shoulder to read it aloud.

"'The Tenryou Commission sends their regards to the Hiiragi Clan.'"

Ayato didn't look ecstatic. Just as you lifted a nibble of shrimp to your mouth, he slapped the chopsticks from your hand. "Don't eat that."

You gave him an incredulous look. It was unlike him to be rude.

"From one commissioner to another, trust me." He dropped his voice so the officer wouldn't hear. "You don't know who cooked this. Kujou Kamaji isn't in control of the minor clans. They're men built on pride, so to feed you would be a remarkably quick change of heart."

"My lady?" The officer shifted from foot to foot. "Is there something wrong?"

"Bring us an animal," Ayato told him.

"Sir?"

"The first wild creature you can find. A weasel or a squirrel should do."

The officer returned with a small, stray dog. You remembered that Ayato liked dogs; he had mentioned to you once that he appreciated their loyalty and obedience. And yes, he did often find them to be cute. He winced as the pup was set on the floor, wagging its tail. It probably thought that your house was its new home, and you and Ayato were its new parents.

"Archons almighty," he muttered.

The dog eagerly ate the yakisoba, but it barely wolfed anything before it whined pathetically and slumped to the floor. Front paws scratched at its belly as though to dig out a rock that was shredding its stomach. Eventually, it became weak and ceased to move, whimpering as it twitched to death in slow intervals.

For a few moments, there was only stunned silence.

"Inform Kujou Sara about this," Ayato ordered calmly. "Tell her that it is of utmost importance that the Raiden Shogun knows."

"Yes, sir."

The officer left. The doors slid shut violently. Ayato turned to Thoma, who looked worried but unsurprised.

"I'm on it," Thoma said quickly, summoning his polearm to see whether the officer would do as told or run for it. "The Shuumatsuban will know."

When he left the room, Ayato's temporary cool had evaporated—he was staring at you with concern, but you were staring at the food, and the walls were constricting. The Tenryou Commission had tried to kill you in the most obvious way possible. They had expected you to be stupid and you were frightened and furious because they had been right. You had thought that Kujou Kamaji's friendship would have been enough to protect you from the lower clans' hatred. You were sorely wrong.

"Look, you're safe. The important thing is that you didn't eat it." Ayato spoke gently to calm you down.

"There were multiple ways they expected this to go," he rationalized slowly. "If you'd taken the poison, Chisato would have to return as head, eradicating her connection to the Tenryou Commission. If she didn't return, a minor clan would have taken over and the Tenryou Commission would control them."

"And... since I didn't take the poison?"

"Well," Ayato said, "hopefully the Shogun will decapitate their heads."

You swayed. Ayato caught you and sat you down.

"That mob from before," you remembered, the dots connecting in your head. "That was them."

That had happened in Inazuma City, where the Tenryou Commission was located and their influence was greatest. Where you and Ayato had specifically gone because you knew they hated you. You had walked straight into their trap.

Ayato folded his arms and hummed in thought.

"They'd tried to spoil your public image, but we squandered that with our engagement party," he said. "This attempt on your life was their final desperate move at keeping the Kanjou Commission at bay."

You forced yourself to take several deep breaths. To hate you was one thing, but a murder attempt was a whole new level of dirty politics.

Black spots blinked at the edge of your vision and you closed your eyes, trying to calm down. You'd had no choice but to accept diplomacy from the Tenryou Commission simply because the Kanjou Commission couldn't afford to lose it. There was also the possibility that one of the minor clans in Ritou had aided them in taking down your family, because the food got past the guards. You didn't know how many people were seeking to exploit your vulnerable position.

After all, you still had so much to learn.