Alessia was a woman of her word. True to her vow to teach Gen a harsh lesson for laying hands on what was hers, she acted the very next day.
Gen wasn’t her given name—it was the family surname. Her real name was Ichiko. For generations, the Minamoto Clan had served the Fujiwara Clan with unwavering loyalty. So when Gen offended Sovereign Alessia, her fate was sealed.
When Alessia arrived with a retinue to demand answers, the clan head coldly slapped this daughter born of a concubine.
“You fool! How dare you disrespect Lady Alessia behind my back? Have you forgotten your place?”
The blow was fierce. Gen stumbled to the floor, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, her cheek swelling into a livid red patch. Unfavored by the clan head, her status was pitiful—barely above a servant, a mere tool meant to obey. Disobedience stripped her of any reason to remain in the Minamoto Clan.
“General Yorihito, this isn’t the first time your daughter has provoked me. I know your clan has always honored the Fujiwara Clan. Yet Miss Ichiko clearly resents me, your Sovereign. Drunk, she rants about toppling me. And now—she harassed and tried to molest the daughter of my revered mentor…”
One slap wasn’t enough for Alessia. Watching the clan head punish this scoundrel before the family felt satisfying, but hollow. She’d hated Gen for years. A notorious flirt, Gen ruined countless girls—many knowingly, willingly. Among them was Alessia’s half-sister, who once slit her wrists over her. Back then, Gen’s father broke her legs. She spent months hospitalized, yet women flooded her room nightly: CEOs, students, all walks of life. A revolving parade of admirers.
Alessia didn’t care about Gen’s other conquests. But Kanata was *hers*. No one else would lay a finger on her.
“Even if Teacher Masaki Himemiya (Kanata and Nozomi’s father) erred, he remains my mentor. He lifted your clan time and again. Is this betrayal not unforgivable?”
Alessia aimed these words at the Minamoto head—but her eyes never left the disheveled Gen. When clan honor was at stake, discipline followed. Predictably, the pride-obsessed head seized a rod to punish this reckless, debauched daughter before Alessia’s eyes.
“Please calm your anger, Lady Alessia. I will punish this worthless one severely. If she offends again, I’ll hand her to you. The Minamoto name stays clean—we shelter no filth!”
Rod in hand, he moved to beat his own daughter. He had many heirs from powerful mothers; losing this one meant nothing. Gen’s mother had died young, leaving her utterly alone. The clan watched coldly—no one risked pleading for mercy. No gain. Only danger.
“Worthless disgrace!”
“Everything you have comes from the clan!”
“Only your mother’s dying plea kept you here!”
…
*Thud. Thud. Thud.*
The rod sliced air, striking flesh with dull impacts. Gen knelt straight-backed, silent. No tears. No pleas. Blood flecked her lips.
The clan head raged. The Sovereign had already begun stripping Minamoto power in Falling Cherry City. This incident handed her perfect justification. He meant to beat Gen to death.
Just as Gen collapsed, barely breathing, her elder sister Shiha Minamoto—Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Guard—burst in and shielded her.
Xia shared her sister’s silver hair, though hers flowed in long, elegant waves. Her eyes held a deeper blue, her expression stern. She glared at the indifferent onlookers, then faced Alessia.
“Lady Alessia, Ichiko’s fault is mine. I failed as her elder sister. Let me take the rest—she’ll die if it continues.”
As the clan head’s chosen heir and principal-wife daughter, Xia’s words carried weight. His stance softened—not from care for Ichiko, but respect for Xia.
Alessia hadn’t come to kill. She allowed the substitution. Mercy here preserved stability. Losing a commander like Xia would weaken Falling Cherry City.
“Let this end here… Commander Xia is a pillar of our city, a decorated warrior. I have a sister too—I understand. Just ensure she never touches what’s mine again.”
She cast a triumphant smile at the near-unconscious Gen, then turned and walked away.
