The seven day rites were short and sweet. Sou thanked the priest and he went back to his duties around the shrine.

“They’re not listening to me.”

Yuki looked up at Sou’s sudden words. “Who isn’t?”

“Father’s men. My men.”

“Why do you say that?”

Sou stood up and paced before his father’s coffin. “I can see it in their eyes. They think I’m too young to effectively run the clan. I wouldn’t put it past at least two or three of them to be plotting my death right now.”

“I think you’re being a little hasty, brother. It’s barely been a week.”

“There have been daimyo with shorter reigns. They don’t like Izue either. They avoid her like just looking at her is going to bring the demons of hell down upon them.”

“The stories of her are known far and wide,” Yuki admitted. “You cannot force them to like her, or even to follow you. All you can do is your best. Get results, and the rest will follow.”

“How many swords am I going to have to remove from my back in the meantime?”

Yuki watched him pace in silence.

“Do you think it was them?”

“Who?”

“The Kuroda. Do you think they assassinated father?”

Yuki stared at the coffin. She was the target. That much had been made clear before the assassin killed himself to avoid capture. Whether their father had known this before he stepped into the line of fire they could only guess at. But he had taken the poison arrow meant for Yuki on her wedding day and he had died.

“I honestly don’t know. Why would they try to kill me? I am nothing to them.”

No. Yuki was incredibly important. She was the link between two powerful, old bloodlines. A political goldmine. Her life assured a powerful political alliance, and should anything happen to Sou her children would be first in line to make a claim to Yashiro lands. They would control nearly all the land surrounding the capital. That was a powerful threat to any who wished to stake their own claim over the land. The clan with the most to gain from her death was the Kuroda.

“Tell me about Motoki,” Sou quickly changed subject. He knew very little of the man running Konoe province in his father’s name.

“Motoki? He’s very kind and sweet, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Yuki replied. She continued to sit seiza style on the floor before their father’s coffin. She hadn’t shifted once the entire time they were there. Sou couldn’t do it. His legs started to go numb after sitting like that for too long.

“No, I mean, do you think he will support us? If we go to war.”

“If you ask him for help I think he will do his best. He is an honourable man, brother. He was the first to rush to father’s aid when he was shot, and paid for the return of his body himself. But if you are looking to start a war, brother, perhaps it would be better to do so under a clearer head, and not with the grief of father’s death fresh in your heart.”

Sou said nothing. Yuki stood up and put a hand on his arm.

“Enjoy some time with your new bride. Show father’s men that you are a capable leader they can freely follow. Don’t rush headlong into a battle that will have disastrous consequences for us all.”

Sou gave a small smile and left the room. Itami Motoki was waiting at the entrance to the temple, talking to one of his men. He bowed his head deeply when he saw Sou emerge.

“Lord Yashiro.”

“Lord Itami.”

“Please, we are brothers now, call me Motoki.”

“Then call me Sou.”

“Very well, Sou.” He smiled politely, but it was a friendly smile.

“Thank you for looking after my sister, and for bringing my father back to be buried here.”

“Not at all, it was the least I could do. We did try to apprehend the assassin, but he committed suicide before we could capture him.”

“Do you have any idea who it might have been?”

Motoki shook his head. “There was nothing on the body that could identify him.”

Of course not. A good assassin would leave nothing behind to betray their master.

“I think it was the Kuroda.”

Motoki raised his eyebrows in response. “An astute guess. They would have much to gain from either my wife or your father’s death.”

My wife. She was Motoki’s wife now. Not Sou’s sister. There was a slight twinge of pain in his heart. He looked out over the land below. It looked so peaceful, calm, while his heart was a raging storm.

“You would like to exact your revenge, I’m guessing?”

He looked back at Motoki. “Wouldn’t you?”

Motoki gave a small laugh. “Perhaps I would. But I must also keep my people in mind. What good is my own personal revenge if I take everyone down with me?”

“What good is sitting back and allowing the other clans to run all over you?”

Motoki gave a polite smile. “Ah, and there is my beautiful wife now.”

Yuki exited the temple and walked towards the two men. She went to Motoki first and accepted a kiss on the cheek, then turned to look at Sou. He was second now, and he always would be.

“And on that note, where is your blushing bride?”

Sou looked up. “At the castle. She had other matters to attend to.”

“Other matters? More important than your father’s funeral rites?”

“You will be returning home soon, yes?” Sou forced as polite of a smile as he could. His passive-aggressive attempts at trying to one-up Sou were quickly beginning to tire.

“Yes, we’ll be leaving in the morning, in fact. Your hospitality has been greatly appreciated.”

“Yes, well, you would be wise not to forget it, and wise not to forget where your allegiances lie, too.”

“I’m not quite sure I know what you mean.”

Sou looked at Yuki, then once more at Motoki. “I’m just saying, don’t forget where your beautiful new wife has come from, and how you obtained her.”

He began walking down the stairs, not sticking around for a reply. He regretted the words the instant they left his mouth, but they were out there now. He didn’t mean to use Yuki as a bargaining chip, an object of exchange between two men, but in reality that’s exactly what she was. A tool of their father to gain an alliance they needed to survive. Now that threat to their survival may be coming sooner than they had anticipated and he needed to to remind Motoki of it. Remind him of what his father had died for.