Ikeda Souji finished his rice and sat his bowl and chopsticks down, allowing the servants to come and take the dish and eating utensils away. He drank some of the sakè. Normally he wouldn’t touch alcohol so early in the day, but he was old now. And besides, he was the shōgun. He could do almost anything he wanted.

Normally he’d have been challenged by one of his daimyōs by now for succession of the role, but times had been peaceful, relatively speaking. And Daimyō Sakuraichi was too powerful to be challenged by any of the lesser lords anyway.

Souji nodded to himself as he took another sip of his wine. Sakuraichi had always cared too much for the country as a whole to let it decline into constant feudal warfare. He was a good man to work with. A good successor, so much so that Souji would choose him to succeed him. He had no fear that his power would be wrested away by force—not by Sakuraichi.

“Father?”

The old shōgun broke from his contemplation to make eye contact with his daughter. He couldn’t help but smile, knowing she and his beautiful wife of forty-three years would be safe even in the foreseeable future. “What is it, my sweet?”

“May I be excused?” she asked, her voice silky and feminine. At nineteen, she was soon to be married to one of his daimyōs. Sakuraichi was too old, but would that he was not already married, or Souji would have her marry him, to cement their friendship into familial bonds.

Perhaps his son? he thought, but the boy is only sixteen.

“Souji?” his wife’s voice came from the other side of the table. She had just set her rice bowl and chopsticks down, whereupon the servants quickly snatched them away. She put her hands flatly on her thighs. “You’re doing it again.” She chuckled, and so did the Souji.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. He turned to his daughter and nodded. “Where are you going?”

She smiled sweetly. “Lady Tamiko wishes to take tea with me. We’ve agreed upon the time beforehand.”

The old shōgun grunted acknowledgement and waved a hand. “Of course you may go. “

His daughter composed herself and made to leave the dining chamber.

“Enjoy yourself,” he called after her.

He exchanged looks with his wife, and she said, “It’s that that time. She’s due to be married—should have been last year.”

“Hmm.” He stroked his bearded chin. “I was thinking the same. But I hate to lose our only child.”

“I know, dear.”

They sat for a moment and the shōgun finally said, “I have some ideas. But I want you to give me council on this as well, wife.”

“Oh, I intend to,” she said.

He chuckled. “I know.” He got up, grunting as his old bones ached. It was his left knee, an old wound he’d gotten in a battle decades past. “Now I must leave to visit Daimyō Sakuraichi. He’s expressed concerns about the Emperor’s safety tonight and wishes to take my council.”

“As he should.” She stood and followed him out of the room. “You give him too much power. You are the shōgun, not him.”

“I know my business, wife.”

Always so strongly for the old ways, he thought as he watched her. She sighed. We’ve moved beyond that, haven’t we?

“At least have him here, in your own castle instead of going to him.”

He grunted. The truth was, he was a bored old man and he wanted an excuse to get out of this shut up fortress. “I’ll be fine. Yoshi and his samurai will be there.”

His wife scoffed. “That old dog is as old and tired as you are, my love.”

He chuckled. Once the shōgun had not been such a light-hearted man. But now, it was best to take things lightly.

At least from the wife!

“Another reason to name Sakuraichi my successor.”

“What?!”

He was taken aback momentarily. “Did I say that out loud?” He couldn’t believe it. “Never mind that,” he said, a mild note of sternness in his tone. “I’ll see you tonight. The Emperor expects us.”

“I know he does. Have a safe walk, dear.”

He smiled. “I intend to,” then without warning he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

She flinched, not because she was negatively impacted, but because nobles of their station did not make shows of affection in public, meaning in front of the servants.

She smiled wickedly. “Scandalous old man.”

He laughed then crossed the threshold out into the yard.