It was so wonderful to be back with her father and brother, and to be safe. To add to her comforts, she was also clean. For some reason Dija still seemed on edge. She would have to ask her about that next time she saw her maid.

As it was, the Western Temple was a place to commune with the gods and to seek quiet contemplation and solace from the higher powers. She did that, sitting cross-legged, her body facing the rising sun. She did all the rituals. The princess made offerings, prayed and thanked the kami gods. She kept silent, enjoying her quiet devotion for a time.

When she was finished, she regarded the smooth floors, the walls and the rafters high above her head.

They don’t even have books, she thought. Not the kind I like, anyway.

Her eyes found the camp below. It was a good view from the third story, though so ugly in what was once the beautiful grounds of the temple.

“I feel much better now that you’re with us.”

It was Masaru. She smiled, turned to regard him. “Now that it’s over, we can look back on what happened as an adventure. I had an adventure, brother.” She sniffed, bemused at her own statement.

“Indeed. But let’s hope you don’t have any more adventures, ever.” He walked next to her, put an arm around her shoulder.

“The epic adventures I’m used to reading about in my books will now either seem incredibly fictitious and dry, or they’ll be my refuge more so than ever.”

“Let’s hope the latter,” Masaru said.

She looked up to him, her eyes sweeping across his sword. He never wore that thing. “What’s going to happen now?”

“We’re going to leave, little sister.”

“Leave? Mikuma? Is father truly going to run?”

“We’re not running,” he said, a slight sternness to his tone. She looked away. “We’ll return. Father and I will, to right the wrongs these gutless attackers have done to us—the honorless dogs! Our armies can defeat any foe.”

That’s not true. “Of course they can,” she said.

“You’ll see. In a month you’ll be back in the palace.”

“What happened to the Shinjus?”

“Hmm,” he thought, grasping the hilt of his sword. “I don’t know. Perhaps Hukama is holding them prisoner. Or perhaps he executed them.”

“Would he do that?”

“Probably not,” he said. “But you never do know with these warlord types. He’s of the old ways—more savage and brutal than the age that is nearly upon us.”

“He’s strong.”

“He’s a barbarian.”

“And we’re trapped in this temple.”

He looked at her, pointed a finger in her face. “We’re not trapped. We can get out at any time. We have Sakuraichi’s forces. Our men can cut down five of theirs. These are our lands. They won’t be taken easily—not without a fight.”

She nodded. She didn’t want to get Masaru into any more of a rise than he already was. “Of course, you’re correct, brother. What do I know of these matters?”

“Nothing,” he said, though not unkindly. “Stay with your books, little sister. Let the warriors fight and decide who should fight who.”

She didn’t exactly know it, but she felt it in her bones that something was wrong, that Masaru was quite possibly not even aware of it. At least not consciously.

Maybe she would get an answer from her maids. “Where’s Dija and Mika?”

“Mmm, I don’t know. Why you keep that cat eye around, I don’t even know.”

“She’s loyal.”

“She’s annoying.”

Noriko smiled, nodded. “Perhaps your personalities simply don’t match well.”

He didn’t answer her statement. “I have to go check on father.”

“All right.”

He embraced her. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too.” She smiled and he left her there.

Well, she thought, at least I won’t have to marry Prince Shusuke…

What a terrible thing to be thankful for.

She would have to give another offering and pray that her selfishness not lead anyone to harm.