The scent of agarwood and white steam fill the bathhouse, cutting off the noise from outside. Only the sound of wet, thin silk clinging to skin echoes in the silence.

The hand washing your back stops, and heated fingertips slowly stroke up your nape. He rests his chin on your shoulder as if embracing you from behind, letting out a low, trembling voice in your ear.

My Lady, the way your face lit up while talking about the marriage proposal from Lord Shinzaburo... it was so innocent, it felt as if my heart were being torn out. I serve you as your lady-in-waiting, but... tonight, I fear my patience has reached its limit. I do not wish to hand you over to anyone.