Chapter 14 : The quiet rebellion

The air in Lord Haruki’s chamber was still, heavy with unspoken weight.

The flickering light of a single candelabra painted long shadows across the room’s stone walls. Scrolls and old documents were scattered across the massive oak desk, where Lord Haruki sat in solemn silence. His eyes, sharp and calculating, barely lifted as Shin stepped in and closed the door behind him.

Shin stood tall—back straight, hands at his sides, expression composed—despite the storm quietly brewing beneath his skin.

The only sound was the distant crackling of the hearth, the fire’s warm glow doing little to thaw the chill in the room.

After a moment, Haruki finally spoke. His voice was low but steady.

“We leave for the royal castle at dawn.”

Shin nodded slowly, absorbing the weight of the words. “Understood.”

“There’s a council meeting with the king,” Haruki continued, still not looking directly at him. “It’s important that the Fujimoto presence is strong. Your role will be to observe and learn. Speak only when spoken to.”

Shin bowed his head slightly. “Yes, Father.”

The words hovered between them, then faded. But Shin didn’t move.

His silence lingered long enough for Haruki to notice.

Haruki’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Is there something else?”

Shin hesitated, then asked, “Will Sakura be coming too?”

Haruki’s gaze slowly rose to meet his son’s. Cold. Unflinching. The firelight danced in his eyes, but they held no warmth.

“No.”

The answer came like a locked door—firm, final.

Shin blinked, confused. “Why not?”

A bitter silence stretched between them before Haruki replied, voice like steel.

“She doesn’t deserve to step foot in that castle.”

Shin’s brow furrowed, a knot tightening in his chest. “What do you mean?”

“She is a shame to the Fujimoto clan. An embarrassment.”

The words hit like a punch. Shin’s chest rose slightly as he drew a breath, his fingers curling into fists by his side.

“Father, that’s not fair—”

But before he could finish, Haruki’s voice thundered, rising like a sudden storm.

“I said no!”

The room shook with the force of his words. The flames in the hearth flickered violently, as if startled. The silence that followed was heavy and absolute.

Shin stood frozen. His mouth slightly open, eyes wide—not just at the volume of his father’s voice, but the finality in it. There would be no room for reason here.

Haruki leaned back in his chair, face hard and unreadable. “We leave early. Get some sleep.”

Shin clenched his jaw. His pride screamed to fight back, to defend Sakura, to say what he really thought—but something in his father’s expression made him pause. The walls around Haruki were iron. No crack. No compromise.

So Shin bowed stiffly.

“Yes, Father.”

He turned without another word, the quiet thud of his footsteps echoing as he left the room. The moment the door shut behind him, the tension in his shoulders finally dropped.

But inside, his heart raged. His mind reeled with anger, sadness, and helplessness all at once.

Why does he treat her like that? She’s done nothing to deserve it…

He walked the hallway in silence, his shadow stretching along the wooden floor as moonlight filtered in through the tall windows. His footsteps slowed as he approached the east wing—the part of the estate where the air always felt gentler, warmer.

And where someone who understood him waited.

As he passed the familiar corridor leading to the east wing, he stopped in front of Sakura’s door. The warm yellow glow of a lamp spilled out from beneath the doorframe.

He knocked.

“Come in,” came a quiet voice from inside.

Shin stepped in. Sakura sat on the edge of her bed, a book half-open in her lap. Her eyes lit up when she saw him.

“Hey, Shin. What’s up?”

He closed the door gently and crossed the room. “Can I sit?”

She nodded, patting the space beside her. Together, they moved to sit by the large arched window. The soft breeze rustled the thin curtain, and moonlight poured in, bathing them in silver.

“Father told me about the meeting tomorrow,” Shin began.

Sakura turned to him, her expression shifting. “The royal castle?”

He nodded. “Yeah. He, Mother, and I are going.”

Sakura paused. “Do I… need to come too?”

He looked at her, hesitated. “No.”

Her shoulders relaxed. Then, to his surprise, a soft smile bloomed on her face.

“That’s… good,” she said.

Shin stared at her. “You’re happy?”

She nodded again, this time with a peaceful expression. “I was scared I’d have to go. I don’t do well in crowds, Shin. You know that. The stares, the whispers… and if I make a mistake, Father would be humiliated. I don’t want to be the reason he lowers his head in front of others.”

Shin’s heart ached. The sincerity in her words was a quiet pain.

“Sakura… you’re not an embarrassment.”

She blinked.

“You’re the coolest person I know,” he said, smiling gently. “You always have been.”

Sakura chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Oh really? I knew that!”

Shin laughed quietly, the warmth of her teasing easing the storm inside him.

“Thank you,” she said after a while, her voice low. “For always being on my side.”

He didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.

They sat in silence, leaning slightly against each other, the moon casting their shadows on the floor—two figures against a world that didn’t understand them.

As the silence between them settled under the soft night breeze, Shin turned slightly, his expression more serious.

“There’s one more thing,” he said, his voice quiet.

Sakura looked at him, curious. “Hm?”

Shin took a deep breath and met her eyes. “Tomorrow, no one will be home. Father, Mother, and I—we’re all going to the royal castle early in the morning.”

“I figured,” Sakura said softly.

He hesitated. “Promise me you won’t go outside the capital tomorrow. Not even close to the borders.”

Sakura blinked. “Why?”

“Because,” he said, more firmly than before, “you’ll be alone. I won’t be there to stop you or to help if anything happens. Just... promise me you’ll stay safe. Please.”

There was a beat of silence before she smiled gently. “Okay. I promise.”

Shin nodded, the tightness in his chest easing slightly. “Good. That’s all I needed to hear.”