“Aoi. I need whatever help you can give. This investigation is important to me, and not just because the Bundori Killer must be captured and brought to justice.”

He detected a glimmer of response in her eyes: She was not indifferent to his plight. Encouraged, he continued.

“Before my father died, I-” His voice broke on the grief that always overwhelmed him when he spoke of his father. He paused while his tears blurred the flickering candles and he struggled to contain his emotions. “I promised him that I would perform a heroic act that would secure our family a place of honor in history. But now I’m afraid of bringing disgrace upon our name, instead of glory.”

Then his face went hot with shame. A proper samurai stoically hid private thoughts. Somehow Aoi had inspired him to voice his, and how wonderful the release of it! But wouldn’t she despise him for his cowardice? Yet the deep empathy he saw in her eyes surprised and warmed him.

“We make commitments that are hard to keep,” she said quietly. “And sometimes the biggest obstacles are within ourselves. Can we ever be strong enough to overcome them?”

Behind her enigmatic facade, Sano glimpsed a woman capable of understanding the conflict between duty and self that warred in him. She’d experienced it, too. And the cautious wonder in her eyes mirrored his dawning recognition of a kindred soul. For a timeless interval, they contemplated one another in ishin-denshin: the wordless, heart-to-heart communication so prized in a society that left deep feelings unspoken. A wild mixture of elation and dread swelled Sano’s heart. What he felt for Aoi, he’d never felt for any woman before. It went beyond sexual desire and inflamed his spirit with a fierce joy; it obliterated all considerations of rank and class.

And terrified him. Because although love affairs were common for members of his class, he knew that many a samurai had let an unwise romantic infatuation wreak havoc with his finances, distract him from duty, and weaken his character, thereby ruining his future prospects. Sano thought of all the financial and political advantages of marrying into the Ueda family. That these seemed less attractive than the thought of taking Aoi to his bed, of knowing her in every way, signaled the danger of giving his emotions free rein.

Then Aoi stood. Before she bolted for the door, Sano saw her eyes turn glassy with horror. That she seemed to welcome their changed relationship even less than he both hurt and reassured him. For the sake of the investigation, he must see her again; but for his own good, they must never cross the boundary between work and love.

I hereby call to order this meeting of the, ahh, Council of Elders. “ With an air of regal authority, the shogun spoke from the head of Edo Castle ’s great audience hall, where he sat upon the dais. At his back, a landscape mural rich with gold leaf set off his brilliant silk robes.

The floor before him formed two descending levels. On the higher, Chamberlain Yanagisawa knelt nearest the shogun, at his left and turned so that he could see both his lord and the rest of the assembly. The five elders knelt in two rows on the same level, at right angles to the shogun and facing each other. Hereditary Tokugawa vassals who advised the Tokugawa on national policy, they comprised the bakufu’s highest echelon. Servants unobtrusively refilled the tea bowls on standing trays before them and supplied tobacco and metal baskets of lit coals for their pipes.

The lower level belonged to lesser officials scheduled to present reports. Sano, cold and tense with anxiety, knelt among these. He tried to review his speech, but nervousness ruined his concentration. His thoughts strayed to last night, and Aoi.

Tokugawa Tsunayoshi concluded his opening remarks, then nodded to his chief secretary, who headed a battery of clerks seated at desks beneath windows that ran the length of the room. “Proceed.”

“The first item on the agenda,” the secretary announced, “is Sōsakan Sano Ichirō’s report on his inquiry into the Bundori Murders.”

Interest enlivened Tokugawa Tsunayoshi’s features. “So, ahh, sōsakan, what have you to tell us?” he asked.

Sano’s heart did a quickening drumbeat inside his chest; as he rose, walked to the front of the assembly, and knelt, he held his body rigid to still its trembling. “Your Excellency, it is my privilege to present my progress report,” he said, praying that his voice wouldn’t waver. “I hope my unworthy efforts will meet with your approval.”

Conscious of all the eyes focused on him, Sano summarized the results of his investigation, encouraged by the fact that the shogun, not Chamberlain Yanagisawa, had opened the discussion. The chamberlain smoked his pipe in attentive silence, his expression neutral. The elders followed his example. The shogun leaned forward, eyes alight with the same enjoyment with which he viewed theatrical auditions. His face showed surprise at each new clue, excitement over the assassination attempt, and satisfaction when Sano presented his theory about the murders and his plans to interrogate General Fujiwara’s descendants if he couldn’t trap the killer at the house where Aoi claimed he would be tonight. Finishing his recital in a tentative glow of success, Sano held his breath, awaiting the shogun’s response.

“Ahh, splendid!” Tokugawa Tsunayoshi exclaimed. “Well done, Sōsakan Sano.”

He clapped his hands in hearty applause. After a moment, everyone else did, too. The elders’ stern faces betrayed hints of approval-here a faint smile, there a raised eyebrow. Yanagisawa’s features had hardened into a rigid mask that moved only when he parted his lips to remove his pipe. But Sano, almost giddy with relief, didn’t care. The shogun had rescued him from Yanagisawa’s conniving. Now he could pursue his investigation with the greater chance of success that his lord’s favor would surely bring.

“Sōsakan Sano does indeed deserve Your Excellency’s praise,”

Chamberlain Yanagisawa said with warm sincerity. His stony expression altered to one of pleased surprise. Sano breathed even more easily. The shogun’s approval meant that Yanagisawa must put aside whatever grudge he held.

Then the chamberlain said with a delicate shrug, “It does not really matter that the suspect has not been located yet. Although it seems as if a lame, pockmarked man should be easy enough to find… Nor should we chastise Sōsakan Sano for failing to prevent another murder, or to control the resulting unrest in the city.”

“No… ” The shogun’s enthusiasm faded visibly; doubt pursed his mouth. “After all, not much time has passed since the first murder, has it?”

Silk robes rustled as the elders shifted position and set down their pipes in response to the changed atmosphere. The assembly stirred. An iron band of dread closed around Sano’s throat as he fathomed Chamberlain Yanagisawa’s intent.

“Only two days, Your Excellency.” Yanagisawa’s inflection made it sound like years.

In the No theater, Sano had watched Yanagisawa dominate the shogun by possessing knowledge, which conferred power. During their private audience, Yanagisawa had manipulated Tokugawa Tsunayoshi by catering to his desires. Now Sano saw another way in which the chamberlain usurped the shogun’s authority. Tokugawa Tsunayoshi was a natural follower who craved approval. Yanagisawa-with all the ruthless strength of character absent in his lord-undermined the shogun’s weak self-confidence by playing upon this need.

“Nor should we attribute importance to the fact that Sōsakan Sano has presented no evidence to support his theory about the murders,” Yanagisawa continued. “Although without such proof, the theory seems… ” Ridiculous, said his quick glance skyward.