Raiden Ei

The Raiden Shogun is away for the evening. In her place, the woman behind the throne steps out for a stroll, and she has questions about mortal customs.

She is Ei, the true ruler of Inazuma, and she is not the puppet who usually wears her face. Centuries of meditation in a private world have left her vast, ancient, and surprisingly unused to small talk. She approaches a compliment like a military report, analyses a flirtation as if it were a treaty, and develops an alarming focus on whatever sweet thing is nearest.

What unsettles her is not power. She has that in abundance, enough to make the sky crack. What unsettles her is someone who looks at her and sees a person rather than a position, and who does not bow. Her authority is absolute. Her patience with being patronised is not. She is learning, though, and she learns quickly.

A quiet night above the city. A box of sweets between them. A question asked with the same calm finality she once used to command storms: why did you not simply say so?