Lines of barracks, their white plaster walls decorated with black tiles arranged in geometric patterns, surrounded each estate and housed thousands of retainers who served the daimyo. Elaborate gates boasted multiple portals, tiered roofs, and guardhouses occupied by sentries. As Midori’s palanquin halted outside the gate that bore the Niu dragonfly crest, her chin quivered with apprehension.

This had once been her home; but the place harbored bad memories, and she never came back unless it was absolutely necessary. If not for her father’s summons and the hope of salvaging her chance of marrying Hirata, she would have avoided the estate forever.

Inside the estate, multitudes of samurai patrolled a large courtyard or sat in guardrooms. Barracks for the officers formed an inner wall around the daimyo’s mansion, a vast complex of half-timbered buildings joined by covered corridors and intersecting tile roofs and elevated on granite foundations. At the door to Lord Niu’s private room, Midori met Okita, her father’s chief retainer.

“He’s waiting for you,” Okita said.

His dour face and neutral tone gave no hint of what Midori should expect. “How is he?” she said.

“Slightly better.” That meant Lord Niu had calmed down. “I advise you not to upset him.”

“Why does he want to see me?” Midori asked.

In answer, Okita opened the door. Reluctantly Midori entered the room. Okita followed, closing the door behind them.

The room could have belonged to any noble, but for features known only to those familiar with Lord Niu. Cabinets, chests, and secret compartments in the walls and under the floor contained hidden weapons, as Midori was aware. A mural bore dents and stains from objects hurled by her father during fits of rage. The two guards stationed inside the door were there to protect Lord Niu from himself, and everyone else from his bad spells. The room had a peculiar sweet smell, as if tainted by poison in his blood.

Lord Niu knelt on the dais, sharpening a dagger. The motion of his blade against the grindstone produced metallic rasps. He didn’t immediately acknowledge Midori’s presence. As she knelt before the dais, she thought how ordinary he appeared today, like any other noble who spent his leisure time tending his weapons. Then Lord Niu raised his skewed face to her.

A tremor of dread passed through Midori. Hastily lowering her gaze, she bowed.

“Little whore. Little traitor.” Lord Niu spoke the insults in a pleasant, ordinary tone of voice that made them all the more chilling to Midori. His hand continued swiping the dagger across the grindstone. “How could you betray your own father to consort with the son of the enemy?”

Too frightened to answer, Midori pressed her lips together to still their trembling. Her hope that he’d changed his mind about the marriage seemed ludicrous now.

“I ought to kill you for your treason,” Lord Niu said.

The rasp of his blade quickened, as did Midori’s heartbeat. Glancing at Okita and the guards, she saw them move closer to the dais. Lord Niu had never yet killed a family member, but this was no guarantee that he wouldn’t.

“But you’re my flesh and blood, no matter what you’ve done,” Lord Niu said. “I’ll give you a chance to atone for your evil.” His left eye twinkled at Midori. The right eye dreamed. “Tell me everything you know about the Hirata clan’s strategy for destroying me.”

Midori wished she could run away, but her father’s will held her captive, and she must defend Hirata. “But I don’t-they’re not-I can’t-”

“Don’t pretend to be ignorant.” The rasping ceased as Lord Niu stopped sharpening the dagger. His hands were black with grit; his expression scorned Midori. “You and that boy are lovers. What secrets does he whisper to you when you lie together?”

Midori hoped her father didn’t really know the things she and Hirata-san had done, or suspect she was pregnant.

“Speak!” Lord Niu ordered.

Desperation loosened Midori’s tongue. “There’s nothing to tell. Hirata-san and his father aren’t making war on you.”

Lord Niu snorted in disgust. “They’re trying to lull me into believing I’m safe. And they’re using my own daughter as a messenger for carrying their lies to me.”

“I’m telling the truth!” Midori cried. “They’re good, honorable men who came to you in peace.”

The grindstone suddenly flew out of Lord Niu’s hand and crashed against the wall. Midori shrieked. Okita and the guards started.

“Do you take me for a moron?” Lord Niu shouted. “My enemy wants to sneak his son into our clan, to cause discord among us and weaken us so we’ll be vulnerable. I should cut off your head and send it to him as proof that I’m onto his scheme!”

Midori whimpered as he brandished the dagger. He crawled to the edge of the dais, tilted his head, and scrutinized her. She recoiled in terror from his fierce, distorted gaze. Then the left side of his mouth curved upward in a pitying smile.

“Ah. I see,” he said. “You really don’t know anything. You’re too innocent to recognize my enemies for what they are.”

Rage suffused his features. “That boy has tricked you into thinking he loves you, all the while he’s used you for his evil purposes. That dirty, vicious scoundrel!”

Lord Niu jumped up and stalked around the dais; he slashed the dagger at the air. “Son of a snake! Demon from hell! I’ll see him destroyed before long!”

Cowering, Midori put her hands over her ears to block out her father’s voice, but Lord Niu shouted more curses against Hirata. Wild, reckless terror overcame her.

“Stop!” she screamed.

Lord Niu abruptly fell quiet. He stood still, weapon dangling, as he and his men regarded her in surprise that she dared command him. Midori quailed at her own boldness; yet her love for Hirata and need to marry him inspired courage. She said what Reiko had suggested might bend Lord Niu to her wishes: “Do you want to be safe from your enemies?”

Caught off guard and startled out of his rage, Lord Niu said, “… Yes?”

“Do you want to make sure that the Hirata clan will never attack ours?” Midori’s voice quavered; she pressed her thighs together, fighting an urge to urinate.

Lord Niu looked wary, but nodded.

“Then the best thing to do is unite our two clans in a marriage between Hirata-san and me,” Midori said in a rush. “The wedding would mean a truce. We’ll be allies, not enemies.”

A thoughtful look came over Lord Niu’s face. Its two halves seemed almost to align.

Midori took heart because in spite of his peculiarities, Lord Niu wasn’t entirely impervious to logic. She remembered what else Reiko had told her to say, when they’d met earlier that morning: “The union will also protect you from the Tokugawa. They won’t attack a lord whose daughter is married to the chief retainer of the shogun’s sōsakan-sama.”

Lord Niu pondered; something awakened in his dreaming eye. He wasn’t completely out of touch with the world, either, Midori knew. Even if he didn’t realize that the Tokugawa wouldn’t start a war and disrupt the peace they’d maintained for almost a century, he understood the benefit of marrying a daughter to someone with a Tokugawa connection. And he had a clever instinct for seizing chances to serve himself. A short eternity passed. Midori held her breath. Then Lord Niu hopped off the dais and crouched in front of her.

“Do you want so badly to marry?” he said.

He appeared so concerned about her that Midori’s heart leapt. “Yes,” she breathed.

“Well, I suppose that can be arranged.” Rising, Lord Niu beckoned to his chief retainer, who came to him. Lord Niu whispered in Okita’s ear; Okita listened, nodded, then left the room. Midori wondered what was going on. She prayed that her father would change his mind about Hirata.

“Are you in love with this boy?” Lord Niu said.

Midori thought she felt her father relenting. Could this possibly mean he’d sent Okita to apologize to Hirata’s father and ask for another miai so the marriage negotiations could start fresh?