I ate my dinner alone, my room filled with the smell of the shrimp and fish I had with rice. It was a large enough room for me, much larger than my room at home. I stopped thinking of it as my home as I finished my letter to my family. Inugoya Island was my home now.

Mother, Father, and Grandmother

I suspect you already know of my acceptance to be Lord Ashiro-han's bride. But here I am telling you myself. I cannot put into words the immense joy of knowing how well off our family will be once I am married. Yoshi and his family will receive much respect when people hear of his little sister being married to a lord. As for me, well, I am filled with excitement! I never could have imagined myself being a lord's wife. I look forward to seeing you all, and Yoshi and his family, when you come for the wedding. When you see me again, I will no longer be a girl. I will be a woman!

I sighed at the letter. It was a lie. A large ugly monster of a lie. I was not excited, I was not full of joy.

I flung the brush across the room. It landed in the corner near the altar, splashing ink over the wall. I watched the black stain drip from the wall, and immediately regretted what I had done. I hung my head, grabbing at my hair.

I will be a woman.

The only time I was considered a woman was when I was no longer a virgin. I rubbed at my eyes; my back was sore from that morning, and while my eyes were heavy with exhaustion, I was certain I would be unable to sleep. I glanced at the doves in their cage; they were asleep, their heads leaning against each other.

The sound of a stringed instrument greeted my ears. I raised my head. The strumming was that of a taka, and I recognized Usikawa's Lullaby again. I stood and opened the balcony door, stepping out to look at the lights of the island. My room was in the main building of the lord's house, on the wing that looked out over the pines and the wild, untamed ground of the island, but I could see Lord Ashiro-han's room from there. To my surprise, he was sitting on the balcony, his whole shape tinted yellow from the lamps hanging from the eaves of the roof. He had his head bent over the taka as he plucked at its strings, and he hummed the lullaby as he played it. Even from the distance of my balcony, I could see his breath cloud rising in the cold.

The hero Usikawa sang the song to his firstborn—was that why the lord played the song? Did he play it for his firstborn who had not survived birth? Did he play it for the son he had yet to father?

A sort of ache tore through me, and I lowered myself to my knees to lean against the railing. I watched him; he did not look up once, his attention focused on the instrument as he played it, and even from that distance, I could see how gracefully his fingers moved over the strings. His voice wasn't as pleasant to listen to as he hummed as my father's voice was, but it carried the tune well enough.

I watched him, mouthing the words to the song. I was no talented singer, but it brought me some comfort to whisper the words to myself.

I watched his balcony door slide open. Hotaki came out, bowing to Ashiro. The lord did not stop playing, only giving Hotaki a nod of acknowledgement when the younger man knelt near him. Hotaki turned my way, looking at me, and I didn't know whether I should have stayed there or gotten up and left. I saw him lean towards Lord Ashiro and say something to him; the lord stopped playing and looked my way. Both men were looking at me. I stood, bowed, and went back into my room.

My legs felt odd, and as I blew out my candle and laid on the futon, I could hear the gentle murmur of Hotaki and Lord Ashiro speaking to each other. The young man was often in Ashiro's presence, like they were brothers rather than simply friends. I closed my eyes and let the sound of the lord picking up a different tune on his taka lull me to sleep.

I felt like I was only asleep for two minutes when my eyes popped open. I sat up, hearing the laugh from outside. It sounded like a child…

I glanced at the balcony door and gasped. I could see the silhouette of a small figure, and could see small fingers tapping on the wood frame. I jumped from the futon, snatching up my thick night robe as the child darted away. I pulled it on and lunged for the door, flinging it open, stepping onto the balcony. The child stood there, its face hidden in shadow. It lifted a finger to its lips before turning and running. I caught a flash of a bald head, the open robe, a grin. The child had no shoes on its feet, and moved swiftly and quietly.

I ran after the child, my feet flying across the freezing wood. My best guess was that it was a servant's child, who was playing around the lord's house without their parents' knowledge.

The child went around the corner, and I could see it heading for where Lord Ashiro-han had been playing the taka. I went around the corner as well, slipping on a patch of ice. I landed on my hands and knees, looking up. The child was standing near the lord's door, watching me. I scrambled up, sudden panic ripping through me when the child opened the door and slipped inside. What would Ashiro do if he found a servant's child in his room?

I went to the door and stopped. It had been left slightly open, and I could hear the door on the inside open, and the gentle patter of bare feet. I peered in, the light from the lamps showing an empty futon. I slid the door open a little bit more, looked around the room, and stepped inside. It was empty.

I saw the child standing in the doorway of the room. The child wiggled its fingers at me before shutting the door and running away. I stood alone in the dark room, debating whether or not I should have followed the child. The question of where the lord was filled my brain. What would a man be doing out of bed in the hours of the night?

I backed out of the room and shut the door. My back hit something, and before I could shriek, a hand clapped over my mouth.

"Silence. You'll wake the whole household."

Ashiro's deep voice sounded in a whisper in my ear as he removed his hand from over my mouth. I moved away from him, bowing as low as I could.

"Forgive me, my lord," I said. "I did not mean to intrude on your room. There was a child wandering about, and—"

"A child?" He opened the door and went into the room, looking about. He turned back to me; I hung back in the doorway and lowered my eyes from him.

"What did the child look like?"

"Bald, my lord," I said. "And…small. About four or five years. I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl."

He put one hand on his hip, and stroked his beard with the other. I looked up at him, and could see him staring at me from under the shadow of his dark brow. I realized how cold it was, and pulled my robe tighter around myself, watching the man I was to marry. I didn't want to think of having to be his wife as I stood there in the doorway of his room.

"I thought that perhaps it was a servant's child," I said.

He shook his head, looking away from me. "There are no children on this island," he said.

"Surely some of the servants might have—"

"There are no children on this island. You might have been dreaming."

"I was very much awake, my lord."

"And the other night I was the moon," he said. "Some people have active imaginations."

I fell into silence. It would have been disrespectful to have kept on contradicting his words. I stood there, waiting for him to dismiss me. He held out his hand to me.

"Come here," he said.

I hesitated. He sighed, beckoned again.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

I stepped forward, shutting the door behind me, offering my hand to his outstretched one. He took my hand, pulling me close to him as he did so. I wanted to ask him what he was doing out of bed, and why he was so insistent that there were no children on the island. There must have been a hundred servants. Surely none of them would be so…continent.

"Your hands are freezing," he said. He took both of mine in both of his, his rough fingers closing over my hands. As he lifted my hands, I could see his inner arms, and the pair of dolphins there. He noticed me staring, and pulled his sleeve up further to show me.

"I owe a great debt to your father's house," he said. "I now belong to your family."

I said nothing. He took me by the shoulders and turned me, moving my hair aside and pulling the collar of my robe down to see the top of the dragon's head. I shuddered, tensed and poised to flee, but he released me and turned me back to face him. He took both my hands again and lifted them to his face, his breath warming them.

"Your room isn't too cold, is it?" he asked.

"It's warm enough, my lord."

"You're an unearthly shade of white," he said. He didn't release my hands, and though I wanted to pull them away, I didn't want to disrespect him by showing discomfort in his presence.

He saw my face and released me, tucking his hands into his sleeves. "You should return to your room."

I was no longer sleepy, but I bowed to him, showing obedience to his suggestion. "Of course, my lord," I said. I turned to open the balcony door so I could go back to my room, but I heard his voice.

"Wait."

I turned to him, my hand frozen on the wooden door frame. He beckoned me forward again, and I took a step towards him, unsure of what he wanted from me.

"Should you see a child again," he said, "Be sure to tell Komo, and no one else."

"Certainly, my lord," I said.

"Good-night, Yori."

I bowed and took my leave. The air was still as I stepped out of his room and shut the door behind me. I glanced back at it, wondering if, for any reason, he might have followed me. I paused, looking over the balcony at the tangle of glowing lights that hung from the rooftops.

Why would there have been no children? Why had he so strongly denied the presence of a child on an island so heavily populated?

I continued on my way back to my room, stepping around the patch of ice I had slipped on only minutes earlier. A faint breeze blew over the island, the chimes that hung below the balcony swinging and twinkling together, the only sound in the air. I heard no child's laugh, no taka playing faintly.

A chill that wasn't from the breeze crept through my body from inside. I hurried to my room, onto my futon, and under the warmth and protection of my thick blankets.

Hotaki and Komo joined me for breakfast the next morning, after Komo made me show Hotaki the dragon on my back. She pulled the back of my robe down so Hotaki could look at it, and I felt his fingers tracing over the lines of the dragon. I shuddered—not because of the indignity one might have expected me to feel, but that, for a moment, I was nothing more than an object being passed from hand to hand.

Hotaki returned to his place at the table, and I pulled my robe back up, tightening it against the cold.

"How do the wedding robes go?" he asked Komo.

She grinned and waved a hand in front of her eyes. "I assume it's going well," she said, "though I cannot see for myself."

Hotaki glanced at me over the rim of his teacup. "Perhaps you need a witness," he said.

"It's too soon for her to see it," Komo said.

I stared into my bowl of dumplings, not feeling the cheer or the anticipation of the wedding that was to come. My head was full of the events of last night, and I wondered if Ashiro had told Komo of my seeing the child. If he had, Komo showed nothing of it. I wanted to ask so many questions of the two of them, but didn't know where to start. I knew for a fact that too many questions would make them less than willing to share their knowledge. I looked at Hotaki, wondering of his strange closeness to Ashiro. A strange jolt went through me, and I looked away. A lord was not so close to his subjects unless…

I shook my head. I didn't think there was anything…anything so intimate between the two of them, and I felt foolish for letting such thoughts fill my head.

"What's bothering you?"

I looked up from my bowl. Hotaki was watching me, and for a moment I regretted those delicate thoughts towards him. I lowered my head. "I'm just thinking."

"You seem distracted."

I took a bite of my dumpling, chewing thoughtfully as I did so. "Of course I was," I said. "Naturally I would be distracted if I was thinking of something else."

Hotaki chuckled. "What distracted you? You do seem distant. Did you get enough sleep last night?"

I washed the dumpling down with a sip of tea. My reflection had, that morning, shown my lack of sleep the previous night. "Hardly," I said. I didn't know if I should have told them of the child. "I was with Lord Ashiro-han…"

I saw Hotaki glance at Komo, who suddenly lifted her head.

"It was brief," I said quickly. "I…I was out walking the balcony for fresh air." It felt strange to lie to them. "And I came across him."

"Oh, yes," Hotaki said. "I remember you being out of your room last night."

I thought of seeing Hotaki and Ashiro as the lord played the taka. "It was later than that," I said. "I had a dream where…where I saw a child."

"A child?" Hotaki appeared amused. "Was it a strange dream?"

"I would say so," I said. "The child had no hair, and ran to the lord's room from the balcony."

"Hm." Komo took a sip of her tea. "It's a strange dream."

"Dreams are always strange," Hotaki said.

He and Komo showed no alarm to my mention of a child. I pursed my lips. Ashiro had seemed so persistent in his denial of a child's presence, but perhaps my mention of seeing the child as a dream brought Hotaki and Komo no alarm.

Komo finished her dumplings and stood. "We must at least try the fitting of the wedding robes on you," she said to me. "When you're done, of course."

I wasn't finished with my food, but I stood anyway. "Certainly," I said.

Hotaki helped himself to my unfinished bowl. I said nothing to him, and simply followed Komo into the hall.

Surprisingly for a blind woman, she navigated the halls expertly, as if she could see the whole time. She placed each step with confidence, even moving out of the way if a servant was walking in my direction.

I watched a servant pass by us. I wondered how they themselves walked about without eyeholes for their masks. I had never seen so many masks aside from the three funerals I had been to.

"Why do the servants wear masks?" I asked Komo.

She paused. "What?"

"The servants. They all wear masks."

"Oh, that." Komo smiled and shook her head. "It's an old rule that Lord Ashiro-han's grandfather made. He didn't like seeing the servant's faces, and he especially didn't like when his children fooled around with servants. So, he demanded all servants wore masks, so the nobles wouldn't be distracted. The rule stuck."

I watched the servant go through a door. "It works," I said. "I can't tell if they're men or women." Though somehow, Komo's answer didn't satisfy me. I remained silent as she led me into a room where three young women were putting robes on a dummy.

I gasped when I saw the robes. They were of the whitest of whites, purer than snow, and seemed to glow. As they hung the robes on the dummy, I could see the shimmer of a dragon embroidered along the bottom. One of the women was painting pale blue flowers and brown branches on the bottom of the outer robe as it was hung on the dummy. The sleeves were wide and long, the branches and flowers already painted on them, and under the robe were more layers of alternating blue and white. It was so much more splendid than the robe that was being made for my wedding to Itsua.

Naturally, it would have been—I was becoming a lord's wife.

"Yori is going to try her robe on," Komo said.

The seamstresses pulled the outer robe from the dummy and laid it aside so as not to smudge the fresh ink. They removed each layer—four in all—and waited for Komo to help me out of the layers of my clothing.

The silk was cold, sending a chill through me, but the seamstresses worked quickly to put everything on me, securing each layer with its coordinating belt, before putting the final robe on. They secured it with its wide blue belt, and laid the sleeveless black coat over the robe. The black coat was worn as the parents escorted the bride to the temple, and removed during the ceremony.

Masks were worn at weddings by the bride and groom only—the bride removed the groom's mask during the ceremony, and the groom removed the bride's mask. It was an ancient tradition that symbolized the handing over of each other to their spouse.

I looked down. A married woman's robes were folded over the left, opposite an unmarried woman's. The seamstress had folded it over for a married woman, and I felt the odd numbness of my realization.

"How does it fit?" Komo asked.

"Somewhat large," the younger seamstress said.

"It doesn't matter." Komo shook her head. "We can simply do the appropriate tucking."

One of the seamstresses came behind me and pulled the back of the collar down so that the dragon's head was visible. I turned and looked in the mirror that hung on the wall, staring at my face made whiter by the pale colors of the robe. Itsua had said I looked unhealthy. As I looked at my face—the thin lips, the narrow eyes, the round nose—I began to study my eyes as hard as I could, trying to see if there was anything recognizable in them. I sighed and lowered my gaze. Nothing but the plain brown I had inherited from Mother.

I allowed the seamstresses to help me out of the robes. I would not put them on again until my wedding, which would take place in two days. The fast approach of the biggest event of my life was like a storm tearing across the land towards me. I felt, as I stood there watching my reflection while the seamstresses pulled the robes off, that even though the weight of the silk was being lifted off me, a heavier weight was being placed on my shoulders.

I watched my face as I pulled my robes back on and tied the belt. The weight of knowing that my only purpose in Ashiro's eyes was to bear a son rested heavy on me. He could have picked anyone, so long as she gave him the son he wanted, but somehow his decision had come to me.

Komo led me from the room, saying things about the wedding that was to come, though I hardly heard her, buried in my thoughts.

"There are things you must understand, Yori, and things you can't until the time is fit for you to understand them."

When would the time be fit for me to understand?