Like the rapt, perhaps even entranced young lady she seemed in the presence of the beloved first son of the Takahiro clan, Shizuka held her breath as Souma took his first sip of her tea. Still as an alabaster statuette, she awaited his verdict. And though the graceful young woman did nothing to mar the flawless performance of the ceremony, his declaration of the excellence of the tea she prepared set a light behind her dark eyes, a glow that radiated warmth and genuine pleasure like a hearth in winter. 

When he asked for a second serving of her tea, the pleasure radiated from her like the gentle rays of the springtime sun, and her gaze flickered toward Ai once more. Only for a moment, the small, ephemeral smile on Shizuka's lips said all she could not speak aloud, to the precious sister who befriended an eager foreign teacher and her brother, both so unsure of their footing in a land so very different and so very far from their home.

Oh yes, the young, naive and lovelorn woman she had once been still lived on within the calculating spy. Yet gutted and hollow as she had become after the voyage of the [i]Empress[/i], that lighthearted lady was not much more than a mask Galina wore when the guise of sweet, unassuming and genuine innocence was most needful.

Shizuka took the bowl from Souma once more, her gaze and small ghost of a smile entirely his as she bowed low. She cleansed the bowl ritually and in truth, all with those same perfect graces she had studied with such sincere dedication all these months. And the second bowl of tea she placed before Souma was as meticulously and mindfully prepared as the first.

Though she heard the conversation - the familial small talk that, for all its familiar subject matter, spoke to the love and dedication that flowed like gentle waters between father and son and daughter - Shizuka of course did nothing to interrupt or insert herself in any way. She simply turned to Ai, and then to Raigo, preparing for each a bowl of tea with all the grace and thoughtful attention she had for Souma, neglecting not a single slight move as unworthy of her intent and deliberate note.

And when she was done, the young woman simply remained where she was, as patient and unhurried as the eternal Mount Mitake. In truth, the veil of the woman she had once been glowed softly, happily, in these moments where she could do naught but wait for her time to cleanse and clear this precious tea set. If even for a few moments, that woman could pretend the compliment from Souma had been sincere, that he truly thought her tea excellent. She could pretend the surprise so carefully calculated by Ai and Raigo, the Western woman Shizuka, was truly a joy for the returning firstborn son, and that his hesitation at the doorway was born of genuine, joyful wonder. 

She could even pretend she did not realize all too well, that Souma truly wished little else than to run the blade of that little dagger over her throat, if only he could. 

It was all for the best, she supposed, that Galina was the wolf lying in wait beneath that veil. She'd grown quite fond of breathing through her nose, and not through a gash of hot blood and flesh carved into her neck.

Far easier to speak that way too. She sighed, and suppressed a small, weary laugh before it could escape. Oh, Souma had certainly received a message by now, but Galina still had far more to share with him than tea.