The maple leaves in November burned like fire, a crimson so intense it was almost painful, much like the blood-stained gown of Lady Kamo.,So even if the commoners had something to report, they would try their best to knock lightly on the door, avoiding waking the fragile young mistress.,Perhaps because there was nothing like this in her past life, even if she lived again, she didn't care about this role at all, even finding it unnecessary.。