Several years had passed since Hina began working as a maid in the Saotome household.
She was now twenty-three years old.
Kiyoe, the mistress of the inner chambers, and all the other maids—everyone was kind to her. Her days were peaceful, starting with work at dawn and ending with laughter around the hearth at night, rubbing each other’s tired feet. Though modest, it wasn’t a bad life at all.
Perhaps staying in this house as a maid wouldn’t be so bad.
She had been thinking along these lines when, one day, her senior maid Harue called out to her.
“Hina, the mistress wishes to see you.”
It was unusual for Kiyoe to summon a maid individually.
Wondering what this could be about, Hina made her way to the inner chambers.
As she knelt before the sliding door, a faint, elegant scent of incense drifted through the air.
“My lady, it is Hina.”
“Please, come in.”
A gentle voice responded from within. When she slid the door open, Kiyoe was comfortably seated in an armchair, leisurely fanning herself with a folding fan.
Upon seeing Hina, Kiyoe quietly closed her fan and turned soft eyes toward her.
“Hina, I’ve been thinking it’s about time we seriously consider your future.”
“…My… future?”
Hina couldn’t hide her bewilderment. The unexpected words sent a ripple of unease through her chest, and she instinctively clenched her fingers inside her sleeves, lowering her gaze. A knowing smile curled at the corners of Kiyoe’s lips.
“A marriage proposal. Would you believe it? The eldest son of the Shinomiya family, Marquis Shinomiya Masumi, has expressed interest. And he says he doesn’t mind that you’re a commoner. Isn’t this a wonderful opportunity?”
Hina felt her chest fill with something cold.
She knew Kiyoe enjoyed playing matchmaker for the maids.
She had heard of several maids who had been married into prestigious families before.
But she had never dreamed such an offer would come her way.
“…I… see…”
Her response, barely more than a murmur, hovered somewhere between acknowledgment and confusion.
“He’s quite handsome, you know. A serious and respectable man. And you’re already twenty-three. It’s time to think about your future.”
The way Kiyoe spoke of this “future” as if it were the most natural thing in the world left Hina feeling unmoored.
(Marriage…? For me…?)
Even as she repeated the thought in her mind, it felt utterly unreal.
Her parents had been happy together. As a child, watching them walk hand in hand, she had felt something akin to longing.
“Maybe someday, I’ll be like that too.”
But for Hina now, that “someday” felt impossibly distant.
Her mornings were spent tending the medicinal herbs in the garden, her days filled with household duties, and her evenings occupied with preparing remedies and keeping records.
Her busy life had purpose, and in its fullness, there had been no room to imagine a future beyond it.
Unspoken questions rose and fell silently within her.
“My lady, I’m still—”
Just as she began to speak, Kiyoe reached out, her fingers lightly brushing Hina’s shoulder.
Though her touch was soft, there was an undeniable weight to it.
“Now, now, Hina. Listen—a woman’s happiness lies in marriage. Once you’re past twenty-five, no one will want you anymore.”
Her tone was gentle, but her eyes were sharp, leaving no room for escape.
Kiyoe’s words were likely the common wisdom of the world. Yet, Hina’s heart couldn’t simply agree.
“But…”
Her voice faltered, growing smaller.
“Hina.”
Kiyoe’s tone lowered slightly. Just the way she said her name seemed to tighten the air around them.
Behind her ever-gentle smile, there was a hidden authority—one Hina was reminded of now.
“The gentleman is a busy man. The arrangements have already been made. At least meet him once, won’t you? …Hmm?”
With that soft smile and those words, there was no longer any way out.
“…Yes…”
The reply that left her lips was so faint it hardly felt like her own.
Leaving the inner chambers, Hina turned her gaze toward the garden.
The flowers blooming there still basked quietly in the sunlight.
Swaying in the breeze, each one stood proud and beautiful.
Flowers had it easy. They bloomed without hesitation, fulfilling their purpose simply by being.
Plucked by human hands, they became medicine to ease someone’s pain. Or they sustained the lives of birds and insects.
Just by blooming where they were, they served a purpose.
Hina had always wished to be like that—to live as an herbalist who could soothe others’ suffering.
(If marrying into the Shinomiya family would serve the Saotome household…)
She pressed her lips together tightly, as if convincing herself.
That, too, would be a path to help someone.
She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
Then, lifting her head, Hina returned to her duties as a maid.
Leaving behind a lingering drop of unease in her chest.
In the quiet of the study that afternoon, Keiichiro closed the lid of his inkstone and glanced toward the garden.
Hina, who had been tending the medicinal herbs that morning, was no longer there.
Somehow, it felt lacking.
Just as the thought crossed his mind, the voices of maids passing through the hallway reached him faintly through the sliding door.
“Did you hear? Hina’s been offered a marriage proposal.”
“Oh? That’s moving fast. Whose family?”
“Some noble’s son, I hear. The heir of the Shinomiya—”
The voices faded as they moved away.
The conversation drifted off with the sound of wind through the corridor.
Keiichiro’s gaze, which had returned to his desk, suddenly stilled.
His brush hovered over the paper, its shadow trembling slightly.
(—Hina, getting married?)
Something in his chest felt oddly cold. No—not cold.
It was more like a small, gnawing discomfort. An emotion smoldering deep within him, for reasons he couldn’t name.
She was a maid. Someone who served the household.
That was all. A trusted herbalist, a capable addition to the house.
Yet, the thought of her “belonging to someone else” made something inside him stir strangely.
(What am I thinking?)
He let out a short breath, almost mocking himself.
Setting down his brush, he looked back toward the garden.
In the flowerbed, now bathed in the slanting light of afternoon, the medicinal herbs swayed in the breeze.
The garden she tended had a quiet vitality to it, as if alive in a way others weren’t.
Keiichiro simply narrowed his eyes in silence.
Before she knew it, the marriage arrangements were progressing at an alarming pace.
By the following week, a meeting had been arranged, and Hina found herself dressed in a fine silk kimono prepared by Kiyoe.