I looked over the railing of my balcony at the man crossing the path to our house. He wore a red robe, a black cap on his head, with two black-clad servants behind him. As they passed, I got a view of the back of their robes and the dragon embroidered there.

The white dragon was the seal of Lord Ashiro-han's house. All seven lords of the seven regions had a dragon as their seal, and the emperor had the seven-headed gold dragon as his seal. As Lord Ashiro-han's region was the lowest of the seven tiers, he had a white dragon, as white was a simple color that required no dyes.

I watched the men disappear under the eaves of our house. I left the balcony, crossing my room and the hall, before I hurried down the stairs to the hall, peering around the corner of the walls to watch Grandmother let the men in. The man in the red robes was young, carrying a fan and a small scroll in his hand, and to my surprise, he bowed to Grandmother before she bowed to him.

It didn't make sense, a man of a higher household bowing to someone of a lower tier, especially a woman…

I ducked out of view as the young man looked in my direction. I closed my eyes, hoping he hadn't seen me. I could hear him speaking to Grandmother, so I assumed he hadn't noticed me, or was at least choosing to ignore my presence.

"Tatsuo is in his study. If you would follow me, I will take you to him."

The man said something to Grandmother that I didn't catch. I looked around the corner again as the four passed; I tried not to gasp when I saw the servants. The two black-clad people wore plain, featureless masks over their faces, without even holes for their eyes. Their hair was pulled into a bun at the top of their heads, and I tried to study their necklines and jawline to see if they were men or women, but I could not tell. They walked behind the young man in the red robes. As I tried to get a better look, one of the servants turned their head and looked at me.

Even without the aid of their eyes, I could tell that the servant was looking at me. A sort of sickening feeling hit me in the stomach and I had to lower myself on the stair. The servant shook their head and turned away from me, following the red-clad young man towards Father's study.

I rose to my feet and, sliding across the wood floor in my socks, I followed them at a distance to my father's study, ducking into Mother's sewing room as Grandmother showed them in and took her leave.

I slid to the study door and knelt down, putting my ear against the thin paper to listen.

"Matamura Tatsuo, I am Lord Ashiro-han's personal assistant, Umura Hotaki," said the young man. "I carry great sorrow on your part from Lord Ashiro-han himself. He is, unfortunately, unable to come to you himself, as he is currently busy."

"I understand that our lord does have pressing matters on his hands." I could hear Father through the thin door. "But it is gracious of him to send his assistant. Please, sit down and have tea with us."

I heard Father say something that I didn't quite catch, but I caught Mother's voice in reply. I guessed that he was telling her to serve the tea, as she would have been the youngest there aside from the guests.

I heard the clinking of the porcelain tea set, and the sound of tea being poured into cups.

"From what I understand," began Hotaki, "one of your workers placed all of your funds and savings with the Notomo Bank."

"Yes," said Father. "He was one of my most trusted workers. I did not foresee him cheating me like this."

"You did not see it in your zodiac?"

I pursed my lips as I waited for Father's reply. Father, while a devoutly religious man, and a believer in the spirits and the seven circles of paradise, didn't use zodiacs to base his life around them. I had never laid eyes on one, but they were common practice for others who wanted to know what the day, week, month, or even year held for them.

"I don't use one," Father said.

"A wise choice," replied Hotaki. "You would rather make your own choices. However, sometime zodiacs may give us a warning of misfortune soon to come."

I heard the scratchy sound of paper, and guessed that Hotaki was unrolling the scroll he had brought in with him. "What of Yo-ji? The cheat?"

"He has fled. I alerted the police, but when they got into his home, all his things were gone, and his wife and children were still sleeping."

"They had nothing to do with it?"

"No, but I pity them for the shame that he has brought upon them."

"Lord Ashiro-han will see to it that they do not suffer." I heard fabric rustling, like someone shifting. "On the matter of the loss of your money, there are things that Lord Ashiro-han can do, and things he can't do."

Father remained silent, and I waited to hear more.

"One thing that Lord Ashiro-han can do is shut down the Notomo Bank without the need for an investigation. However, if your money has not been marked with your name, there is no way he can return it, unless of course he found some way to track it."

"Only about an eighth of it was," said Mother. "We were meaning to mark it, but never got around to it."

"Hm." I heard the snap of the fan opening, and wondered why Hotaki would be fanning himself when it was still cold out. "Unfortunately, Notomo Bank has declared itself bankrupt. There is no trace of your money, or anyone's who placed their money with them. I suppose it's to get out of paying a huge fine."

"There is no way to get our money back, then," Father said.

"I'm afraid not. And should the economy crash anytime soon, so would your business, without the money to pay off your loans on the ships and piers you've used."

Father went silent again, and I thought about how much debt we really were in. Was my family truly in so deep that it could have been a crisis on our part?

"Lord Ashiro-han could pay for the debt himself," Hotaki said.

"Could he?" I could hear the excitement in Mother's voice.

"There is a catch. According to the law, money cannot be given freely from person to person, unless the two people were united. Lord Ashiro-han is no exception, even if he is the lord."

"As in?" Father's voice sounded almost as excited as Mother's.

"What I mean is that for Lord Ashiro-han to take it on himself to pay off your debts, he would need for your family to be joined with his. And as he is looking for a bride…"

My heart sank when I heard Hotaki's words. I heard Mother whispering to Father, and Father's voice, tired and defeated, whispering back to her.

"We have our young daughter," spoke Mother.

"She was going to be married," Father said. "Unfortunately, the loss of our money caused for the sealing to be broken."

"How old is she?" asked Hotaki.

"Eighteen years," replied Mother.

"Hm." Hotaki made the noise in his throat again. "It is quite young."

I trembled as I knelt there before the study door. They were going to marry me off to Lord Ashiro-han after all.

"However, she will have to go through the tests. Lord Ashiro-han cannot simply marry her unless she can prove that she is a worthy wife for him. I brought this scroll for you to sign should you want to send your daughter to be tested."

I heard it unrolling again, and Father telling Mother to give him the ink and the brush. It fell silent, and I was certain that he and Mother were signing the paper.

"Hopefully Lord Ashiro-han will accept your daughter," Hotaki said. "Should he do that, then your debt will be erased, and your family will have a firm foundation to build on."

I heard clothes rustling and floorboards creaking as the people inside the study stood. I scrambled to my feet and went back into the sewing room as the study door slid open. I pretended to be interested in the large sewing box as they passed by down the hall, trying to calm my shaky breath and my hammering heart. I heard some of the footsteps stop, and Hotaki's voice.

"Is this your daughter?"

I looked up to see him standing in the doorway. I quickly lowered my eyes and bowed, but Mother ordered me to come into the hall. Hotaki moved aside to give me room, but gently grabbed my arm to stop me.

"She is small," he said, taking my face with one hand and lifting it up. I kept my eyes lowered from him, my hands at my side.

"She was born before she was due," Mother said. "And an illness when she was a small child stunted her growth."

"You said she is eighteen?"

"Yes," said Father.

"Quite young to be a bride for Lord Ashiro-han. But we will see if he accepts your offer." Still with his hand on my face, Hotaki turned my head this way and that. "Let me see your eyes," he said.

I let them wander to his face, and as I did so, he frowned at me. "I can't say she's beautiful," he said, "but those eyes have something in them that I can't place. It is no matter, though. Lord Ashiro-han is not looking for beauty."

He let go of my face and turned his attention back to my parents; I rubbed a finger over where his thumbnail had dug into the flesh there. I was sure he didn't mean it, but I felt violated after his small examination of me.

"We shall see how this all goes. If she is accepted, I will certainly see her again at the island."

Mother and Father showed Hotaki and his servants to the door; I hung back, trying to hold back the tears that were welling in my eyes. So my wish was granted. I would not be married to Itsua-han, but perhaps wed to the most powerful man in the entire region.

A man whose previous six wives were all dead was not the type of person I would have remotely considered.

I could not sleep that night. I lay on my futon, the thick blanket over me offering me enough warmth, but still I could not keep my eyes closed. Mother and Father had told me of their decision to send me to Lord Ashiro-han, and I had tried to act surprised, so as not to show that I had been eavesdropping. Mother had stated that I owed the family for being so selfish, and being the wife of a lord was perhaps the best thing I could have done.

"Servant" was the meaning of my name. I had to be a servant to my family in order to regain the honor I had lost, and what better way than to become a servant to the lord of our land?

But I could have died…I could have been the seventh wife turned to ashes and carried through town, what remained of my body in a little wood box, cradled in the hands of my husband.

Or I could have discovered why the six wives had died.

I rolled onto my side, staring at the faint light that made it through the paper door of my balcony. I would have had to lay with Lord Ashiro-han, carry his child, bear the child if I survived that long. For some reason, it did not bother me as much as the thought of laying with Itsua-han and bearing his children did. Itsua-han I had known since I was eight or nine, who I had looked at like an uncle. Lord Ashiro-han was someone unknown to me, a man whose face I had never seen, who hadn't left his home in seven years.

He was a man who had reached up and caught a lily that fell from my fingers to tie it on his armor.

Would he recognize me? I doubted it, and as I turned onto my other side and faced the wall, I wondered if he even remembered it.

I could hear an owl hooting in the trees outside the house, and the bell of a fishing boat somewhere on the sea. Still unable to sleep, I rose, keeping my blanket tight about me, and went to the balcony. The island of Lord Ashiro-han's home was easier to see at night than in the day, because of the lights that hung from the eaves of his roof, which were a distant sparkle in the water.

I might make it there.

What was it there that kept him from leaving? What lurked behind those walls that had killed each of his wives? Was it waiting there, waiting to kill me?

It was too cold outside for me to remain there any longer. I left the balcony and went to the small round chair by my altar. I left the blanket on my bed and took the robe from the chair, putting it on over my nightclothes. I lit one of the non-sacred candles from my altar and went downstairs, aiming to make myself a cup of tea to make me drowsy.

The kitchen was still slightly warm, as coals still burned in the fireplace, their light giving a soft glow. I stoked the fire some more, and hung a pot over it to boil the water for my tea.

I then got on my knees to search the lower cabinets for the tea I wanted; I moved aside several jars of dried leaves until I found the jar of poppy petals. These were not ordinary poppies, like the ones used for opium, but instead a white kind only found along the sea regions, which, brewed into a tea, tasted like ginger almost, and helped with sleep.

I put the jars back in their places, and smelled the poppy petals to make sure they were just what I wanted. I didn't want to get them mixed up with Eung, Grandmother's pain-reducing tea that could also cause paralysis if one wasn't too careful. I had once made the mistake of brewing it too strongly, and couldn't move for hours.

I set the Eung aside and took my jar of white poppy, dropping a few petals into the cup I had prepared.

I went to the fire as a whistle sounded through the hole in the pot lid; I took a towel to keep myself from being burned and poured the water over the leaves. As I set the pot away from the fire, I turned to see a white specter lurking in the doorway. My hands flew to my mouth, a shriek coming out of me, as the specter stepped into the room.

"Father," I breathed when I realized who it was. "You frightened me."

"I can see that." Father stepped into the kitchen, tying his robe belt tighter about him as he took a cup from the shelf over the wash basin. He dropped a few poppy leaves in there as well, pouring the still-boiling water over it. I took my cup of tea in my hands, watching as he looked over at me.

"Are you unable to sleep?"

I nodded.

"Come with me to my study," he said. He led the way out of the kitchen; I dumped the rest of the water over the coals and followed him, cradling my cup in one hand and holding my candle in the other.

We went to his study; he set his tea on the low table and took the candle from me. He then went to the kerosene lamp that hung on the wall and lit it with the candle, raising the wick as slowly as he dared. He then took the lamp and set it on the table off to the side. It was the only gas item he allowed in the house, and he was the only one allowed to touch it, as he was still wary of the gas systems that the westerners introduced to us.

"Are you afraid?" he asked.

I looked up from my tea; it was still too hot to drink, I had learned the hard way (I now had a scalded tongue). "Afraid of what?"

"Of what is to come."

I thought of the chance of my becoming Lord Ashiro-han's next wife. "Yes," I said.

Father gave a tired smile. "You are honest, Yori," he said. "Your mother does not understand how much of a blessing your honesty is."

Father folded his hands atop the table, and as I looked up to him, I could see his father's sword that hung on the wall behind him. My grandfather had been a great warrior in his youth, back in the twenty-year war against the eastern kingdoms, but my father had refused to follow in those footsteps. Much blood had stained that sword, and Father hadn't wanted to be the one to stain it further.

That was the war that took Lord Ashiro-han's father and older brothers, leaving him lord when he was still a child. Legend had it that he had taken the sword of his father and slain the eastern kingdoms' greatest general when their ships came to invade our land, and it was because of Lord Ashiro-han's great deed that bloodshed never came to our soil, and the war stayed in the eastern kingdoms.

That was well before I was born, and I think well before Father and Mother had married.

Father turned and looked at the sword when he noticed my gaze resting on it. He looked back at me. "You don't think me a coward, do you?" he asked.

"You, Father, a coward?" I shook my head. "Some men are not called to be warriors."

"And now you speak wise words." He looked down at his tea, holding a hand over it to see if it was still hot. He frowned at it, and looked back up at me. "I am sorry that your mother and I must put you through this," he said.

I lowered my head. "You and Mother must do what you can for our family," I said.

"Yori." Father reached across the table and took my hands. His hands were extremely cold, but I found comfort in his touch. "Yori, my lovely daughter."

I looked up at him, surprised to see a warm smile come over his weathered face. His eyes, dark gray like the sea in winter time, did not look like the storm that I was so used to seeing in them. They were now a dark gray like the sky when the sun sets, welcoming and kind. They were Yoshi's eyes, Grandmother's eyes. I had always longed to have Father's eyes, but I had Mother's—plain and brown.

"You have always been something special to me. Your mother wanted only sons, but you do not have any less worth to me because you are a daughter."

Tears stung my eyes, and I looked down at my cup of tea. Father didn't release my hands.

"You must promise me to be brave," he continued. "You must promise to do your best with the tests. You must promise that you will try hard, and not deliberately fail so that you do not marry Lord Ashiro-han."

"I promise, Father," I said.

He released my hands, and beckoned me to him. I rose, and he reached up to me, gently pulling me down to be seated next to him. He put his arm about my shoulders and let me rest my head on his chest to hear his steady heartbeat.

"And you must promise me to be honest in all you say and do."

"I promise," I said.

Father began to hum, his hand gently going up and down on my shoulder. I recognized the old tune as the lullaby that the hero Usikawa sings to his firstborn in The Tale of the Red Water.

The words went like this, if I remembered correctly:

White fish and black fish

Swimming in the darkest deep

Silent is the night

Do not let tears fall

Father will not let you drown

In the darkest deep

Red water, blood tide

Will not stain your little soul

You are mine to keep

Black fish and white fish

Ancient fish of ancient stream

Brought you here to me

I stayed there as Father hummed the tune. I think the last time that he actually sang it to me was when I was seven or eight, caught with the fever that caused me to remain so small. Mother never sang me lullabies; it was Father who had been the one to comfort me. Mother had been all about hot broth and medicines when I had been sick; Father had been the one to sing to me and play his flute and read me The Tale of the Red Water.

Father and I drank our tea in silence, not saying anything to each other for the rest of the night.