The six-hour flight was a journey through a silent, gilded purgatory. For Chiho, time seemed to warp and stretch, each moment an eternity spent in the luxurious, soundless cabin, high above a world that no longer felt real. She had retreated into the private suite Sayuri offered, a room more opulent than any five-star hotel she had ever stayed in, but it offered no comfort, only a more profound sense of isolation. She knew she had to adapt, to accept the life she had chosen with her own signature, but knowing and feeling were two different continents.
Before their descent began, a soft chime summoned her from her stupor. Sayuri was standing outside her door, a vision of effortless glamour in an ivory-white tailored vest and a chic pleated mini skirt. Her smile was polite, her striking green eyes holding no malice, only a calm, unreadable intelligence.
"Miss Chiho," she began, her voice even. "We are about to land. I thought we should all get dressed, don't you? Here, this red dress would look gorgeous on you." She gestured to a garment bag laid out on the bed, a flash of fiery red satin visible through the translucent material.
The gesture was so normal, so disarmingly considerate, that it threw Chiho completely off balance. She was expecting a jailer, but Sayuri was acting almost like a thoughtful host.
"Thank you," Chiho managed to say, her voice a little rusty. She hesitated for a moment, then decided to seize the small opening of civility. "But… can I ask you something?"
"Yes, of course, you can," Sayuri replied, her expression unwavering.
Chiho took a breath, the words tumbling out in a nervous rush. "Please don't mind me asking, but… when you said you were the 'First Queen' of Master Haruki… are you… are you married to him?" The name "Master" felt foreign and heavy on her tongue.
Sayuri's smile didn't falter; if anything, it became a little sad. "No, we are not married yet. We are engaged. As are many of the others who are engaged to him." She took a step closer, her voice dropping slightly, becoming more personal. "You know, Chiho… don't take this to heart, but I don't like you. I can't. You and your family, you tormented Haruki-sama. You didn't treat him like a human being. It aches my heart, and the hearts of all who are devoted to him, to think of him sleeping without a proper meal, hearing your family badmouth him, humiliate him, and sometimes even… beat him."
Her words were like small, sharp needles, piercing the fragile numbness Chiho had built around herself.
"Our hands were tied by his grandfather's trial," Sayuri continued, her gaze direct. "We could do nothing. But you should know, my lord will not treat you with such harshness. He can't. Despite everything, he respects women far too much. I am trying to accept your presence here, so you should try to do the same. Because I am the easiest one, Chiho. The most humble. The others… they are far more violent than I am. That is all. You should get ready."
With that, Sayuri turned and left, leaving Chiho alone with the fiery red dress and a mind reeling from the calm, devastating honesty of her words. The easiest one? The most humble? The thought of what the others might be like sent a fresh wave of ice through her veins.
When the jet's ramp finally descended, it opened onto a long, immaculate private runway carved into a lush, tropical landscape. The air that greeted them was warm and humid, thick with the scent of salt and exotic flowers. Standing before them was a welcome that dwarfed the one they had left in Tokyo. A convoy of at least fifty black, armored cars was arranged in a perfect, intimidating formation on the tarmac. At its center waited a limousine that looked like a polished emerald jewel, long and impossibly sleek.
Haruki emerged first, a figure of breathtaking elegance. He was the very picture of a modern gentleman, a young aristocrat radiating an old-money sophistication that was both timeless and utterly contemporary. His tailored beige trousers and matching double-breasted coat, paired with a crisp royal blue shirt, made him look like he had stepped off the cover of a luxury magazine. His piercing grey eyes scanned the scene, his confident, celebrity aura a tangible force.
At his sides were Sayuri, a vision in her chic white outfit, her green eyes sparkling with intelligence, and Chiho, a reluctant goddess in the fiery red satin maxi dress. The sharp V-neck enhanced her cleavage, and the spaghetti straps crisscrossed her bare back, a design that was both elegant and undeniably sensual. She felt exposed, a bright red target in a world of black and emerald.
Waiting at the foot of the ramp, at the head of a phalanx of guards, was a woman who commanded attention without a single word. Her figure was a symphony of dangerous curves, showcased by a lace, strapless black micro corset that left her navel exposed, and high-waisted, matte red leather pants that clung to her like a second skin. Her jet-black, perfectly straight hair cascaded down her back, a stark contrast to her sun-kissed skin. Her face, with its plush, naturally pink lips, was a mask of stiff, professional neutrality, but her grey eyes missed nothing.
She executed a flawless, shallow bow as Haruki approached. "Your Majesty, we are so pleased of your return and—"
Before she could complete her formal report, Haruki closed the distance between them. He placed a familiar hand on her waist, leaned in, and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. He pulled back, his voice a low, playful murmur.
"As stiff as always. Give a warm smile to your most cherished person, Tamar."
A faint, uncharacteristic blush crept up the Tamar's neck, a fascinating crack in her perfect, deadly facade. She stammered, her composure completely shattered. "Haruki-sama, I… I think that's a little inappropriate."
Sayuri glided to Haruki's side, her smile knowing and amused. "My lord, you know her. Bad with words, but good with a gun. Our expressionless maiden."
A genuine, unguarded smile broke across Haruki's face. It was radiant, transforming his handsome features into something breathtakingly charismatic. Chiho watched, amazed. How could a smile hold so much power? How could it so completely dominate the person it was aimed at?
Tamar, flustered, simply bowed her head again. "Your Majesty, we are ready to depart for the Shinonome Clan Headquarters, Kotenjo."
He nodded, and the four of them were ushered into the emerald limousine. The interior was a sanctuary of quiet luxury, with four large, identical captain's chairs facing each other, upholstered in soft, cream-colored leather. There was no hierarchy in this seating arrangement; it was a council chamber on wheels.
As the convoy began to move with a silent, synchronized grace, Chiho remained a quiet observer, a ghost at the feast. She watched the easy, familiar way Haruki interacted with these women. He was teasing Tamar, who was slowly recovering from her blush, while Sayuri interjected with witty, playful comments. They looked… normal. Like three old friends reuniting after a long time apart.
But were they normal? Chiho's mind reeled. In a single day, she had met two women who were not just beautiful, but exuded a power and intelligence that dwarfed her own. Sayuri, the calm, brilliant strategist who could deliver a soul-crushing monologue with a polite smile. And Tamar, who commanded armies and blushed like a schoolgirl at a simple kiss. They were loyal to him, devoted to him, in a way Chiho couldn't comprehend. And this was just the beginning. Sayuri had mentioned others. More Queens.
She looked at Haruki, who was now laughing at something Sayuri had whispered. She saw the man who had slept on the floor of a servant's quarters. The man who had silently endured her brother's slaps and her mother's insults. The man she had pitied and despised. How much power did he truly have? How many more of these incredible women were waiting for him? She had thought her world was the pinnacle, her power absolute. She now realized, with a clarity that was both terrifying and humbling, that she had been living in a beautifully decorated cage, completely oblivious to the real dragons that ruled the sky just beyond its bars.