The storm outside finally broke, rain hammering against the wooden walls of the teahouse. The soft patter created a rhythm, a heartbeat that matched the unease in Sabrina’s chest. She sat in silence as Miura lit a small lantern, its glow casting flickering shadows across the room.

“I fear this is only the beginning,” Miura said quietly, her voice carrying an edge of foreboding.

“What do you mean?” Sabrina asked, her brows furrowing.

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Miura hesitated, her fingers tracing the rim of her sake cup. “Your brother… he will not let this go. Men like him see the world in absolutes. To them, any deviation is a threat.”

Sabrina’s stomach churned. She knew Miura was right. Robert’s anger was not something easily quelled, and his disdain for Miura had only stoked the fire. “What do we do?”

Miura’s gaze met hers, steady and unwavering. “We endure. And we fight, should the time come.”

The words sent a shiver down Sabrina’s spine, though whether it was fear or exhilaration, she couldn’t say. She leaned back against the wall, her thoughts tangled in a web of loyalty, love, and the fragile thread of her own defiance.

Outside, the rain continued to fall, its rhythm a reminder that storms, no matter how fierce, always pass. But in the shadows, Sabrina couldn’t shake the feeling that this was no ordinary storm–that the tempest between her, Miura, and Robert had only just begun.