As Kuradome drained the last dregs of his exhausting yet somehow comforting morning—a night's weariness folding into day—scene shifted outside Kyoren's chamber... beyond the palace walls.
"Attention! Lady Bài Qíyuè approaches... all may honor her!"
A major royal guard's voice rang out sharp and clear. Instantly, all stood straight, their right boots hitting the marble floor in perfect, thunderous unison.
"Here she comes~" Sozai whispered to himself, a confident smile spreading across his lips as he held the flag steady, matching his movements perfectly to the marching rhythm.
Saimei mirrored the stance, his back rigid as he saluted. His eyes flickered briefly toward Sozai, catching the ease and confidence on the younger guard's face—especially remarkable since Sozai was only acting as major due to the wrong robe.
"Working without even any experience..." Saimei murmured under his breath, a quiet relief washing over him.
Nearby, Ennagiri prepared with precise care. He dipped his hands gently into a small basket filled with delicate flower petals, holding a handful ready to sprinkle over Lady Bài Qíyuè. His blue eyes unconsciously drifted toward Sozai, watching the younger guard's flawless performance. A soft sigh escaped him—relief and pride mingling. Sozai was almost too good to be true in this role; none suspected he was the back-stander guard all along.
"Strange one... but important one..." he murmured quietly to himself. Then, almost silently, he added, "...and maybe that's why he's unique. Even beautiful in his own way." Yet those last words remained locked away, unspoken.
From a distance, Yurei observed Sozai's performance as well. He, Kuradome, and Kyoren had been raised from their thrones as Bài Qíyuè's footsteps steadily ate up the distance.
Silently, Yurei found himself impressed. He never imagined that troublemaker Sozai could pull off the role of major royal guard with such ease. No yokai could just randomly step into such a position—it demanded respect and mastery.
"Born good, or made good?" Yurei questioned himself quietly. Then, the memory of Sozai's promise came back—the promise that Sozai would one day stand above Yurei. The thought unnerved him, for he was stubborn and loathed losing.
"N-no, no no no... he broke the rules... he didn't stand behind me but in front... wore the wrong robe... he can't be higher than me. That golden ribbon is mine alone..."
Yurei murmured tightly, a pout barely held back.
The yokai gathered around cheered and bowed as Lady Bài Qíyuè stepped into Kazomaki Palace's grand doors. Her gaze—crystal clear blue—fixed firmly ahead, but it couldn't escape the presence of Kuradome, the real Kuradome.
Qíyuè's breath caught. He looked like a king draped in silver—the fabric thin and shimmering, hiding his parched eyes, but enough to send butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
Servants poured rose petals over her like a gentle rain; some brushed softly from her shoulders, one or two drifting to rest upon her head. Guards followed behind her in measured steps.
Kuradome's clone stepped forward as well, standing beside Yurei and Kyoren.
Kuradome's steps were gentle, silently calculated. He bowed slightly, lips curving into a faint polite smile as his silver hair brushed over his robe. He extended one hand toward her.
Before Qíyuè could react, he took her hand gently. His thumb pressed softly against the upper side, just over the bone, sending a spark deep into her core.
Then, to everyone's shock, he pulled her a little closer.
Not too close—just enough to make her body shiver.
Like a king approaching his queen... or a prince drawing near his princess.
It was heartwarming... but utterly unlike the real Kuradome.
True Kuradome was gentle but distant—always keeping a space between himself and others. Only Kyoren and his lost partner—whose velvet red hair drifted like rose petals in his memories—were close to him. Silent loyalty was his rule, not disrespect.
He hated affairs; they were two-eyed poison.
Bài Qíyuè was merely a childhood classmate, now a queen whom he was obliged to serve, just as other royal yokai did with offerings, power stones, and counsel. That was the way of their kingdom—almost human, yet not.
But her heart skipped a beat at this gentle approach—something Kuradome had never done before.
Her composed, gothic facade trembled inside like an earthquake—but she composed herself quickly.
Her fox pupils dilated, bright and wide with shyness and something more. Her cheeks flushed deeply, pulse racing so fast she worried he might feel it just through their handhold.
She froze, breath caught for a few precious seconds.
"You're very welcome to Kazomaki Kingdom, my Lady Bài Qíyuè," Kuradome's voice was polite, gentle, professional... and quietly calculating, as if he knew exactly what he was doing.
Yet these were words the real Kuradome would never say.The real Kuradome would simply say, "Welcome," not "You're very welcome."
He would say "Lady," not "My Lady."
It was a flirtation so subtle it was almost invisible—yet shattering Qíyuè's heart all the same.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. Her cheeks burned brighter. Her fluffy fox tails twitched, ears lowered slightly.
Everyone's jaws had dropped—especially Sozai, Yurei, Saimei, and Ennagiri.
Yurei blinked, staring hard at the silent chemistry brewing between them after only a few words.
He had never seen Kuradome touch anyone else's hand—not even close classmates who'd come in three hundred years.
This was odd.
Because Kuradome was always loyal to his lost partner.
But Yurei didn't dwell on it. He assumed it was a normal formality for power stones. Perhaps Kuradome had fully moved on and was now aiming to impress her.
"Planning to marry before even his son? Or am I just overthinking?"
His gaze drifted subconsciously toward Sozai, to gauge the younger guard's reaction—already knowing what might be unfolding.
The crowd watched the unspoken romance blossom; some giggled quietly, thrilled to witness the start of a "crown ribbon" love story—though they didn't realize how deeply everyone was savoring the scene.
Sozai laughed inside, biting his upper lip, cheeks tinged pink. He shot mischievous side-eyes to two major guards beside him—one Saimei himself—and raised an eyebrow knowingly. Finally, he winked at Yurei, who scowled and looked away.
"Flirty freak," Yurei whispered to himself with stubborn huff and sozai chuckled lightly.
Saimei's cheeks burned—not from the romance, but because Sozai was narrating the scene as if it were a bedroom drama. He huffed and turned his gaze elsewhere, desperate for distraction.
Another guard nodded eagerly beside Sozai, clearly enjoying their shared energy.
Ennagiri blinked in confusion but caught a whisper from his neighbor:
"Crown ribbon finally in love after 700 years~!"
He cleared his throat as if to say, "Enough," but couldn't suppress a smile seeing Sozai's excitement exceed everyone else's.
Meanwhile, Qíyuè suddenly withdrew her hand sharply—though not cruelly—her movement shy yet stubborn, as if still processing whether it was a dream or reality.
He really held my hand? Called me 'my lady'?
She was pulled back to the moment by Kuradome's announcement to the court:
"Now that our queen is here, we would love to share a bite of our kingdom's famous sweet Zhào and the renowned wine Yeifeng."
Kuradome turned to Yurei, silently ordering him to prepare the offerings. Yurei snapped back to reality, nodding quickly as he approached a small table near the throne where a bottle of Yeifeng and a rose-golden tray with snow-white sweets awaited. The soft clink of porcelain and the faint scent of sweet Zhào filled the air, a delicate contrast to the weight of the court's presence.
He carefully poured the golden-red wine into two cups, the liquid catching the light like molten sunlight, and placed a mini plate of Zhào before Kuradome and the queen. His cheeks flushed as memories of the wine—and the subtle, unexpected moments shared over it—rushed back, sending a flutter through his chest.
For a heartbeat, the hall seemed to pause, the rustle of robes and distant murmurs fading into the background.