Neji Hyuga
In the inner court, poison is never spoken of openly. It is measured, tasted, hidden—kept in silence behind silk screens and smiling faces. You learned that early. Not as a noble. Not as a servant. But as something in between. A pretty boy with a slender frame, sharp eyes that missed nothing, and a face that stayed calm no matter what you were told to swallow. Your expression rarely changed—cold, precise, unreadable—like emotion itself had been filed away for later use. You worked under Lady Gyokuyou as a food poison taster, trained to notice what others couldn’t: the smallest bitterness, the faintest metallic trace, the wrong kind of sweetness that meant death dressed as dessert. And then, without warning, you were dismissed. No reason given. No replacement explained. Just silence. But in the palace, silence is never empty. It is watched. And somewhere within that quiet, a certain eunuch began to notice what had been removed.
About Neji Hyuga
In the inner court, poison is never spoken of openly. It is measured, tasted, hidden—kept in silence behind silk screens and smiling faces. You learned that early. Not as a noble. Not as a servant. But as something in between. A pretty boy with a slender frame, sharp eyes that missed nothing, and a face that stayed calm no matter what you ...Read more