Steel Wrapped in Silk
Copyright© 2026 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 15
The First Morning
Mio woke to unfamiliar sounds.
Not the quiet rustle of the Mōri household, but different voices, different footsteps, the distant clatter of kitchen work in a larger estate.
For a disoriented moment, she didn’t know where she was.
Then memory crashed back.
The wedding. The ceremony. Taichi’s face when he recognized me. The wedding night conversation.
She opened her eyes.
Pale morning light filtered through the shoji screens. Beside her, Taichi was still asleep—or pretending to be. His breathing was even, his face relaxed in a way it hadn’t been during yesterday’s ceremony.
They’d slept. Actually slept. Nothing more.
He’d kept his word.
Mio sat up carefully, trying not to disturb him. Her body ached from yesterday’s ordeal—hours of kneeling in heavy robes, the weight of the ceremonial costume, the exhaustion of performing perfectly under scrutiny.
But she’d survived it.
And now came the harder part: living as Shabazu Mio. Performing the role not for a few hours, but for the rest of her life.
She rose quietly and moved to the small mirror that had been provided. Her hair was disheveled from sleep, her face bare of the white makeup from yesterday. She looked young, uncertain—nothing like the composed bride who’d knelt through the ceremony.
This is who I am in private, she thought. But I can’t let anyone else see this. Not the servants. Not his mother. Not anyone except maybe him.
And I’m not even sure about him yet.
“You’re awake early.”
Taichi’s voice made her turn. He was sitting up now, watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite read.
“I’m not accustomed to this room yet. The sounds are different.”
“You’ll adjust.” He stood and moved to the water basin, splashing his face. “I should warn you—this morning will be difficult.”
“Why?”
“Because we’ll have to face my mother. And she’ll be ... evaluating you.”
Mio’s stomach tightened. “Looking for evidence that I’m unsuitable?”
“Looking for evidence of consummation, primarily. Then looking for any other excuse to criticize.” Taichi dried his face and turned to her. “I told you last night I’d handle my parents. I meant it. But you should be prepared for questions. Implications. Possibly direct confrontation.”
“I’ve faced your mother before. During her ‘inspection visit’ to the Mōri household.”
“I heard about that.” Taichi’s expression darkened. “She had no business doing that—it was a power play, nothing more. But it does mean you know what to expect.”
“Perfect performance. Zero mistakes. Absolute deference.”
“Exactly.” He paused. “Though not absolute deference to her. You’re my wife now. In the household hierarchy, you rank above servants but below my parents. She’ll try to treat you like a servant. Don’t let her.”
It was good advice. And surprisingly strategic for someone who’d seemed so apologetic last night.
“You’ve thought about this,” Mio observed.
“I’ve spent two months thinking about this. About how to protect you from my mother’s hostility while maintaining household harmony.” Taichi moved closer. “I’m not naive, Mio. I know you’re walking into a difficult situation. The least I can do is help you navigate it.”
There was a knock at the shoji.
A servant’s voice: “My lord, my lady—breakfast is prepared. Shabazu-sama and Koko-sama request your presence.”
The first official meal as a married couple. Under parental scrutiny.
“We’ll be there shortly,” Taichi called back.
He looked at Mio. “Are you ready?”
No, she thought. I’ll never be ready for this.
But she said: “Yes. Let me dress appropriately.”
Thirty minutes later, Mio entered the formal dining room as Shabazu Mio for the first time.
She’d dressed with care—a kimono of subdued elegance, her hair arranged simply but correctly, her posture perfect. The wife of the household’s heir, appropriately modest and refined.
Shabazu Matsui and Koko were already seated. Taichi’s father nodded in acknowledgment. His mother’s expression was coolly assessing.
Mio bowed deeply. “Good morning, honored father, honored mother. I am grateful for your hospitality.”
“Sit,” Koko said. Not quite welcoming, but not overtly hostile either.
Mio knelt beside Taichi. A servant brought tea and a simple breakfast—rice, miso soup, grilled fish, pickled vegetables.
They ate in silence for a moment.
Then Koko spoke, her voice deceptively casual: “You look rested, daughter-in-law. The wedding chamber was comfortable, I trust?”
It was a loaded question. Did you consummate the marriage? Is there evidence? Are you truly bound to this family?
Before Mio could answer, Taichi spoke: “My wife is adjusting well to her new household, Mother. Thank you for your concern.”
Koko’s eyes sharpened. “I wasn’t addressing you, Taichi. I was speaking to your wife.”
“And as her husband, I’m answering for our household.” Taichi’s voice was pleasant but firm. “We’re both well, both adjusting, and both grateful for your hospitality.”
Our household. He was already establishing boundaries—making it clear that he and Mio were a unit, not individuals to be interrogated separately.
Koko’s jaw tightened, but she couldn’t openly object without seeming unreasonable.
Matsui cleared his throat. “Well. I’m pleased the ceremony went smoothly. It was a good turnout—several important families attended. The alliance is well-established.”
“Yes, Father,” Taichi said. “Thank you for arranging everything so carefully.”
“Your wife performed admirably,” Matsui added, nodding to Mio. “The ceremony was flawless. Your adoptive parents trained you well.”
“Thank you, honored father. They were thorough in their instruction.”
“I should hope so, given what they were paid,” Koko muttered.
The barb was clear: We bought you. Don’t forget it.
Mio kept her face serene, her voice soft: “I hope to prove worthy of the investment, honored mother.”
It was perfect—acknowledging the transaction while asserting her intention to provide value. A merchant’s response wrapped in samurai deference.
Koko’s eyes narrowed, but she couldn’t find fault with the statement.
Breakfast continued with painful politeness. Every word was weighted, every silence loaded with unspoken judgment.
Mio ate tiny portions, maintained perfect posture, spoke only when directly addressed, and deferred to Taichi whenever possible.
It was exhausting.
When the meal finally ended, Koko stood. “Taichi, your father needs to speak with you about estate business. Mio, come with me. I’ll show you the household and explain your duties.”
It was phrased as an offer, but it was clearly a command.
Mio glanced at Taichi. He gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod: You can handle this.
She bowed to her new father-in-law and followed Koko from the room.
The tour of the household was another test disguised as hospitality.
Koko walked briskly through the estate, pointing out rooms and explaining functions with businesslike efficiency.
“The main hall where the ceremony was held. The family shrine—you’ll be responsible for maintaining it properly. The kitchen—you’ll oversee the servants but not work there yourself. The storerooms—you’ll manage inventory and provisions. The garden—you’ll ensure it’s properly maintained but hire gardeners to do the actual work.”
Every instruction came with an implicit test: Do you understand your place? Can you manage these duties? Will you embarrass us?
Mio listened carefully, asking occasional questions, maintaining her deferential posture.
Finally, they reached a small room at the back of the house.
“This will be your workroom,” Koko said. “For sewing, correspondence, household accounts. My workroom is adjacent—” she gestured at the door beside it “—so we’ll be in close proximity.”
So you can monitor me, Mio thought. Make sure I’m not doing anything inappropriate.
“Thank you, honored mother. I’m grateful for the space.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You’ll be spending a great deal of time here.” Koko turned to face her directly. “Let me be very clear about expectations, daughter-in-law. This household has standards. High standards. Your adoptive parents may have trained you adequately, but training is not the same as experience.”
“I understand, honored mother.”
“Do you?” Koko moved closer, her voice dropping. “Because I’m not convinced you do. I’m not convinced you understand what it means to be a samurai wife. To manage a household of this standing. To represent this family in society.”
“I will learn, honored mother. With your guidance.”
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