As the sun approached its zenith, the pulse of life persisted within the modest farming village. A mere night ago, the malevolent Jorōgumo had descended upon these humble abodes, terrorizing the villagers. However, the relentless efforts of the enigmatic Miko and the Nameless Knight had prevailed, granting the people another day of existence.
In the wake of the fierce nocturnal battle, the village's weathered huts bore the scars of conflict, now being dutifully repaired by resilient locals. The pathways, once trodden by barefoot peasants, had transformed into muddy trails. Desperate hands had drawn water from the nearby riverbank to quell the flames that had engulfed a hut in the tumultuous throes of that perilous night. The confrontation with the vicious Yokai had left behind a trail of unnecessary destruction.
A solemn Buddhist monk, whom Miko and the Nameless Knight had encountered the previous afternoon, had arrived in the village upon hearing of the Yokai's encroachment. He surveyed the extent of the damage, his lips whispering silent prayers, while his gaze probed the villagers for answers. "Tell me, good folk, what transpired here?"
The balding peasant, his kimono worn with the passage of time, recounted the harrowing tale, his voice tinged with both pride and relief. "It was Jorōgumo, honorable monk, a Yokai descended upon us with malevolent intent. But fortune smiled upon us, for a shrine maiden and a mysterious stranger came to our aid," he confessed.
Intrigued, the monk's eyes held a silent query. "A shrine maiden, you say? In this very village?"
The peasant scratched his head in exasperation, a hand resting on his hip. "Indeed, honorable monk. If you doubt our words, venture forth to Lord Yoshiwara's manor. Disbelieving peasants do not bar your path. We remain preoccupied with repairs, as you can see."
A conciliatory smile graced the monk's lips as he offered a small pouch of coins to the peasant, a gesture of goodwill that transformed the latter's demeanor from annoyance to gratitude.
The two parted ways - the peasant returning to his damaged dwelling, and the monk proceeding in the opposite direction. The village streets bustled with activity as its inhabitants fervently worked to mend the wounds inflicted by Jorōgumo. The monk departed with a sense of anticipation, guided by a purpose known only to him.
Upon a hill that overlooked the village, flanked by encircling walls, pavilions of distinctive Shinden-zukuri architecture graced the landscape. This design, with its elevated elegance and cultural significance, was reserved for provincial nobles of great stature.
The summerhouse atop the hill was guarded by hired foot soldiers, a testament to the governor's commitment to safeguarding this bastion of opulence. Within the Heian-style architecture of this grand estate, Miko adorned herself in attire befitting a special guest of this era, while the Nameless Knight, a solitary figure, stood amidst the meticulously manicured gardens, savoring the rich tapestry of culture that surrounded him.
Amidst the resplendent summerhouse, a vast chamber embraced a celebration attended by a select gathering of luminaries from this illustrious region. For a shrine maiden like Miko, the invitation to this soirée held unparalleled significance, and she had spared no effort in adorning herself with the sumptuous silks graciously provided by the house's governor. Prior to entering this opulent realm, she sought the assistance of female attendants who artfully draped her in garments of elegance.
Though she bore the mantle of a shrine maiden, she wove seamlessly into the tapestry of nobility, evading the piercing gaze of judgment and instead evoking astonishment with her regal presence. Her Hime cut hairstyle, characterized by straight, cheek-length sidelocks and a frontal fringe, accentuated her allure, lending an air of aristocratic mystique to her countenance. In truth, Miko possessed an innate sense of fashion that defied expectations.
With unwavering composure and exquisite makeup, she radiated beauty, rivaling the most illustrious noblewomen of the province. All eyes converged upon her, captivated by her elegance.
The Nameless Knight harbored unwavering confidence in Miko's ability to navigate this prestigious gathering. Her demeanor exuded assurance and grace, rendering her indistinguishable from the noblewomen who graced Heian-Kyo. He had no inclination to traverse the threshold into the grand chamber beyond the paper windows. Instead, he chose to wander the meticulously manicured gardens, captivated by the graceful dance of Koi in the tranquil pond.
Within the lavishly adorned chamber, the atmosphere hung thick with admiration as the assembled men were enraptured by Miko's ethereal presence. She occupied a central seat, flanked by two rows of men, a symphony of authority and status. These were the administrators of the province, garbed in intricately woven male kimono befitting their esteemed positions.
Miko's gaze remained fixed upon a figure of great import before her, a man in the twilight of adulthood, resplendent in Confucian attire reminiscent of the nobles of Heian-Kyo. It was none other than the governor of Yamato province, Lord Yoshiwara himself.
Lord Yoshiwara's countenance effervesced with delight upon encountering Miko. His elation was palpable, evident in the broad and joyous grin that adorned his face, a testament to the profound pleasure her presence had bestowed upon him.
Lord Yoshiwara's eyes, once filled with elation, now danced with a curious wonder as they remained fixed upon Miko. He found himself perplexed, unable to fathom why such a radiant presence, worthy of adoration in the imperial capital, had chosen to dwell high among the mountains, cloaked as a shrine maiden. Surely, he pondered, had the nobles of the capital been graced by her majestic aura, they would have vied relentlessly for her favor, seeking to claim her as their concubine.
However, it was not the pursuit of concubinage that had led Lord Yoshiwara to extend his invitation. Rather, he had summoned Miko and the Nameless Knight with a noble purpose – to convey his gratitude for their heroic deeds the previous night.
In a hushed tone, Lord Yoshiwara voiced his appreciation, bowing his head respectfully while seated on his cushion. The very air in the room seemed to shift, as murmurs among his male guests swirled and mingled. A sense of displeasure wafted through some, their reasons known only to them. Miko, however, remained a picture of regal composure, even though her heart yearned to express her true emotions. She chose to maintain her façade, gracefully prostrating herself upon the tatami, a display of gratitude toward Lord Yoshiwara for his kind words.
Miko's response carried an air of humility as she expressed her unworthiness of such praise, citing her role as a humble shrine maiden merely striving to fulfill her duties.
A chuckle escaped Lord Yoshiwara's lips at her words, revealing the demeanor of a man easily intrigued by the novel. In Miko, he had found the spark to ignite his curiosity.
Turning his attention toward her companion, Lord Yoshiwara inquired about the enigmatic Nameless Knight. This mysterious figure had donned attire reminiscent of Confucian culture, albeit simpler than the regal garments adorning the other guests. All eyes were drawn to him, their gazes captivated by his towering stature, chiseled physique, and striking features. His blond hair, deep blue eyes, and prominent cheekbones painted a portrait of an extraordinary individual.
As Miko wove the tapestry of the Nameless Knight's valorous encounter with Jorōgumo, a hushed awe descended upon the room, punctuated by the occasional gasp as her vivid narration painted vivid images in the minds of her captivated audience. Beyond the paper doors, eyes turned as one to the enigmatic Nameless Knight, who had unwittingly become the center of attention, his presence now shrouded in an aura of mystique.
Amidst this tableau of astonishment, Lord Yoshiwara reclined with evident amusement, savoring the unfolding drama. The knight, unburdened by the attention, had taken to a quiet pursuit, tending to the graceful koi in the garden, further deepening the enigma that surrounded him.