Chapter 16: Competence

Two weeks into the marriage

Mio knelt in her workroom, account ledgers spread before her, her brush moving with practiced precision.

Numbers told stories if you knew how to read them. And Mio had been reading numbers since she was ten years old.

The Shabazu household finances told a story of slow financial bleeding masked by careful appearances.

Income: Fixed rice stipend from their lord, unchanged for three generations. A few small rents from tenant farmers. Occasional gifts from allied families.

Expenses: Servants’ wages, food provisions, clothing, gate and building maintenance, ceremonial obligations, entertainment of important guests, gifts to superiors.

The gap between income and expenses was approximately 18% and growing.

They’re living beyond their means, Mio thought, her brush noting calculations in the margin. And they have been for years. My dowry gave them breathing room, but that money won’t last forever if the fundamental problem isn’t addressed.

She heard footsteps in the hallway and quickly covered the ledgers with a cloth—officially, she was supposed to be doing needlework.

The shoji slid open. Koko stood in the doorway, her expression as cold as ever.

“Working on your sewing?” Her tone suggested disbelief.

“Yes, honored mother.” Mio gestured at the cloth covering the ledgers. “I’m embroidering new cushion covers for the main hall.”

“Show me.”

Damn.

Mio had actual needlework prepared for exactly this scenario—she’d learned to always have a visible project to cover her real work.

She lifted the cloth to reveal an actual embroidery project beneath the ledgers, which she’d cleverly positioned on a lower writing surface.

The embroidery was decent—not exceptional, but acceptable. She’d been working on it in spare moments specifically for this purpose.

Koko examined it critically. “Your stitches are uneven. The pattern lacks refinement.”

“I’m still learning, honored mother. I’ll practice more diligently.”

“See that you do. A samurai wife should be accomplished in all the traditional arts.” Koko turned to leave, then paused. “My son tells me you’ve been helping with household correspondence.”

Alert. This was dangerous territory.

“Only minor matters, honored mother. Taichi-sama asked me to assist with acknowledging gifts and responding to routine social obligations. Nothing of importance.”

“Correspondence is my domain. I’ve been managing it for thirty years.”

“Of course, honored mother. I would never presume to—”

“And yet you are presuming. Writing letters on behalf of this household without my supervision.” Koko’s voice was sharp. “From now on, all correspondence comes to me for approval before being sent.”

It was a power play. Koko was reasserting control, making sure Mio knew her place.

“Of course, honored mother. I apologize for any presumption.”

Koko swept away, satisfied she’d put Mio in her place.

The moment she was gone, Mio uncovered the ledgers and returned to her calculations.

Let her control the correspondence, Mio thought. I have bigger targets.

That evening, when Taichi returned to their chamber, Mio was ready.

“I need to show you something,” she said without preamble.

She spread the household accounts before him, along with her careful analysis.

“We’re spending eighteen percent more than we earn. Every month. The gap is slowly widening. At current rates, we’ll exhaust the remaining dowry funds within three years. After that, we’ll be forced to borrow or sell assets.”

Taichi stared at the numbers. “I knew we were struggling, but I didn’t realize it was this specific.”

“It’s worse than you think. Look at this—” Mio pointed to a series of entries. “The rice merchant has been gradually increasing prices. Small increments, spread over years, so no one noticed. We’re now paying twenty-three percent more than market rate.”