The chirp of a bird forced me to open my eyes. Breathing in sharply, I moved, a sharp pain in my neck shooting up into the back of my skull.

I rolled over onto my back, realizing I had fallen asleep on the hard floor before my altar, and I still wore my wedding robes. I hissed in pain as I sat up, lifting one hand to the back of my neck, to rub the tension away.

I frowned, seeing that my sacred candle had burned to the last inch, and it was now a lump, the wax having dripped down the side of the altar, reminding me of blood.

I grimaced and turned away. I had no concept of time, if it was morning or afternoon. I lifted myself to my feet, the pain from being curled on the hard floor taking hold of my knees. I stumbled forward to the door to the balcony. Sliding it open, I stepped onto the balcony, into the frozen air, seeing a layer of snow on the rooftops of the lord's house. My breath rose from my lips, a cloud in the already clouded sky, and I looked up to watch it vanish among the gray.

The chirp reached my ears again. I looked, seeing a little bird perched on one of the hanging lanterns. I froze, recognizing it as the bird I had saved from the frozen fountain. It sat upon the lantern and flapped its wings, staring straight at me. Slowly, I lifted a hand toward the creature, but I must have moved too quickly, for it let out one last chirp and flew away, soaring over the treetops and vanishing among the branches of a large pine to where I could no longer see it.

I sighed and retreated into the room, shutting the balcony door. I did not know why I was so transfixed over the bird. It was unusual, perhaps even a spirit watching over me. If it was a spirit, then there was a possibility that my position was not so unfortunate.

I began to pull off the heavy wedding robes, though it was a task that drained me of my energy. The robes were put on me by several people, and I was only one undressing myself of the seven layers.

I pulled off the last robe and left them in a heap next to my futon, standing in the cold of my room in nothing but my under-robe, shivering. I knelt before the vanity, staring in the mirror to pull my hair out of its various twists and knots. The various symbolic ornaments I left on the vanity, and as I stared at them, and then back up at my reflection, my hands felt as if they had been formed of many weights, and I felt as if the floor was pulling me down.

I looked into my own brown eyes, studied my face: it had grown thinner, paler, the eyes sunken deeper into their sockets. A black smudge that had previously been zho marked my forehead.

I lifted my hands and lowered my gaze to my palms. A child, my husband had called me. Perhaps that was what I was. I had done nothing but weep and bemoan my misfortune, much like a child might have.

Strangely enough, however, I found relief in remembering that he had told me he had no desire for me. I didn't know if I myself was one to be desired. There was a chance I wasn't, and he was simply telling me because I had nothing in me to be sought after.

The relief vanished when I remembered that I still had to be a mother. If he had no desire for me, then I couldn't imagine trying to bear his child. Something that was supposed to be tender, and intimate, and unifying would turn stale and forced, and I did not know if he would even love his child should it come from the womb of a woman—a girl—he had no desire for.

I took a deep breath, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. This was too much for me to think of before I even had a morning bath.

Courage was what I had prayed for the previous night. I clenched my jaw and took up the comb, working the tangles from my hair, the comb ripping through each knot. I watched my reflection, looking into those dark eyes, alarmed at how old they had grown in a matter of days.

Look at yourself, I thought. This is the face of one who has brought humiliation. This is the face of one who will bring honor.

I continued working at my hair, my strength renewed from the words I thought to myself, before I rang for a servant to help me with my bath.

I sank deeper into the water, the steam clouding my vision. The heat from the water made my skin tingle, but it settled into my bones and helped me to relax. I worked my fingers through my hair, washing out the oil that had been used to form the style that my hair had been twisted into for the wedding.

The servant I had dismissed so I could bathe alone, surrounded by the scented oils and the silence of my solitude.

I had come to the realization that I had awoken well past ten in the morning, and I was disgusted with myself for having slept so long. Though I hadn't eaten, I wasn't hungry, and no one had sent for me, so I let myself unwind in the hot bathwater. My parents and Grandmother had already left, I hadn't the chance to see my brother and his family, but I tried not to dwell on the thoughts.

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, pretending that I was floating among clouds, the thought allowing me to relax further. There were things to worry about, yes, but for now, I simply wanted to cleanse myself of everything that had taken place the previous night. My skin was thick with the perfumes that I had been anointed with, and my brain heavy from too much thinking. Oddly enough, I hardly wanted tea to soothe myself. I wanted something stronger to scrub everything away.

The sound of the door sliding open made me open my eyes. I sat up, turning to look over my shoulder as the outside light, and the cold draft, came pouring in. Silhouetted by the light, blurred in the steam, was a slight figure.

"Yori? Are you here?"

I recognized Komo's voice, but not the tone—she sounded angry. Anger was something I had not heard in her voice before. I said nothing, sinking deeper into the water, hoping to avoid her. She crossed the room of the bathhouse, breaking through the steam. Her blank eyes were fixed ahead, her feet moving slowly. I did not move in the water, knowing that she would hear it, and I sat there watching as she crouched down.

She stuck her hand in the water, feeling around. I moved away as slowly as I could. It was not fast enough, for her hand brushed my arm, and she reached forward, her fingers wrapping around my wrist. She pulled me forward, touching my face.

"What are you doing? Hiding?"

I pulled my wrist out of her hand. "I'm taking a bath."

"It's eleven in the morning! When did you wake up?"

"A half hour ago," I said.

"Finish with your bath, and get dressed. You have duties as a lord's wife now. When you are dressed, you will go see Hotaki in his study. The two of you have work to do."

My heart jumped when I heard Hotaki's name, and I moved further away from Komo. "I'll be done in a few minutes," I said.

"You had better. You're not going to spend your day sulking about. You're a lord's wife now, and that means you're going to act like one."

I said nothing, watching her. She stood and made her way towards the open door. She turned to look back over her shoulder, as if she was going to say something more, but she remained silent and left me alone, shutting the door behind her.

I sank lower into the water, until it closed over my head, holding my breath and wrapping my arms about myself. The muffled sound of the water closing around my ears only magnified my thoughts inside my head. I broke through the surface and breathed deeply, hoping that I could calm myself, but my solitude only made things worse.

Hotaki was the last person I wanted to see, especially after the way I had thought of him the afternoon before the wedding. But as the lord's wife, I was expected to do what the master of the house commanded. I lifted myself out of the water and picked up the towel, standing alone in the bathhouse with my face buried in the soft cloth. My head still pounded and my eyes ached.

I lifted my head and began to dry myself off, dreading the time I would spend with Hotaki.

I knelt before the door, patting my hair to make sure it was in place, and smoothing out the front of the silver robe I wore. All my possessions from my home on the mainland had been delivered to my room, and I felt that, though it severed my remaining tie to my family, I could still have some remainder of my life before by wearing my own clothes.

I waited by the door for any sound of Hotaki. Komo had shown me to his door after bursting into my room to help me dress faster. My hair was still somewhat damp, but Komo had twisted it into the knot on top of my head anyway. My scalp tingled from the harshness with which she had pulled my hair.

I knocked on the door, waiting to hear a reply. No sound came from his study. I knocked again before wondering if he wasn't there yet, or he had gone out looking for me.

I placed my hands on my knees and looked down the length of the hall. Nothing stirred in the dim light, and in the quiet, my skin began to crawl. A breath of air came down towards me, stirring the banners that hung on the wall. I jumped to my feet, alarmed at the touch of the cool air on my face.

Gooseflesh covered my skin. I stood staring down the hall, watching for any sign of life. An image of the child I had seen crossed my mind. I closed my eyes and tried to push the image away. I wouldn't let myself be frightened.

But I was a fool to be frightened—I heard the sound of voices, a door sliding shut, before I realized that someone had opened one of the exterior doors and let the cool draft in. I saw two figures—two men—turn down the corner of the hall, and I recognized Hotaki's red robe. A jolt went through me when I saw that the other man was Itsua. I guessed he had stayed on the island as Father's accountant.

"Yori!" Hotaki's voice, with its bright, musical tone, touched my ears. "Good morning. Are you feeling well?"

"Somewhat," I said.

"I'm guessing Komo sent you here."

He moved past me and slid the door open, motioning for me to enter. I glanced at Itsua, but said nothing to him as I stepped into Hotaki's study.

It was humbly furnished, with a low table where he could work, and only a few ink paintings on the wall. Hotaki moved behind the table, which was covered in pieces of parchment, and motioned for Itsua and me to take our places. I knelt before the table, Itsua kneeling at my right, too close for my comfort. I inched away from him, placing my hands on my knees, as Hotaki brought forward his abacus and dipped his brush in ink.

"Now, Yori," he began, flipping through the parchment until he found a blank piece, "since your family is now tied to the house of Inugoya, we'll have to go over some procedures concerning the passing of money."

I stared at him, and then quickly nodded. "Yes," was all that came out of my mouth. The last thing I wanted was to sit and listen to two men discuss numbers and money.

He pulled a scroll from his sleeve and unrolled it, presenting it to Itsua. "This is the statement of the transaction from the Matamura private bank to Notomo Bank."

Itsua took it and began to read over it, his mouth in a deep frown as his eyes wandered over the ink characters. I leaned closer to him to read it, but bank statements made no sense to me, so it might as well have been in a completely different language. I did read the amount of money which was transferred—twenty-eight thousand yan, all of our family's money.

I felt a strange jump of surprise. Why, I was convinced that our family had more money in our bank. Yo-Ji might have stolen a great amount as well.

"Since Notomo Tamaka's declaration of bankruptcy," Hotaki went on, "the unmarked money is lost. However, we shall carry out with the transaction of the dowry."

Itsua handed the scroll back to Hotaki. Hotaki began to count on his abacus, writing characters on the blank piece of parchment. I knelt beside Itsua in the silence, wishing that I was elsewhere. I could have been in my room drinking tea, practicing an ink drawing, or outside walking in the snow to enjoy the dead beauty of the island.

Hotaki finished with the piece of parchment, blew on the ink to let it dry, and rolled it up. He then lit the candle that sat on his desk and waited until wax had built up to drop it over the scroll, sealing it. He handed it to Itsua.

"This you will take to the Matamura bank," he said, "and you and Matamura Tatsuo will oversee the transaction."

Itsua took the scroll with a dip of his head.

"Thank you, Orya Itsua," said Hotaki. He motioned to the door.

Itsua stood and bowed deeply, before tucking the scroll in his sleeve and leaving the study.

I stared after him as he shut the door. Hotaki's voice broke the silence, sounding softer and lacking the usual merry tone.

"Yori?"

I glanced at him. He watched me, his hands folded atop his table, his eyes filled with concern. They fell on the top of my head, which was bare, I realized: no ivory comb.

"What happened last night?"

I hung my head. "I don't know, to be truthful," I said. "I fainted, and Ashiro came to see me, and...and he was angry with me."

"Did he..." He looked again at the top of my head.

I shook my head. "No," I said. "He hardly touched me. He left me, after saying that he had no desire for me."

I heard Hotaki sigh. He leaned back, drumming his fingers on the table. I recalled the time I had been out wandering, hearing the conversation between Hotaki and Ashiro, the need for a son, Hotaki saying that they would be free…

"Yet I still must have his son," I said. I shrugged my shoulders. "I've never felt more...trapped. It's like I'm stuck in some kind of whirlpool of my own making, trying to swim to freedom, but it's only pulling me deeper down, to the bottom of the sea, where I cannot escape the fate in store for me."

"Your worth is not dictated by the child you might bear," Hotaki said.

I looked up quickly, surprised by his words.

"You are so much more than a potential mother, Yori," he went on. "So much more than a bride with no say in who her groom is. You are a lord's wife."

I nodded. "Yes," I said, "and that is all."

He began to laugh, the smile breaking over his face filling me with my love for him, causing me to smile despite the heaviness inside me.

"Why do you laugh?" I asked.

"Do you not know that you are so much more? Look at you. You drown in your self-pity, but you do not realize that you are the woman with the most power in your entire region."

I hadn't quite thought of that. Hotaki must have seen the shock on his face, for he laughed again.

"Yes, a lord's wife is submissive to the will of her husband," he said. "But think. When your husband is away, you hold his position. You are second only to him, until, of course, your son comes along. Should he die while your son is too young to ascend his seat as lord, you hold the lord's place, if he has no brothers."

I had never heard such a thing before. I said nothing, my mouth hanging open. Hotaki rose from behind his table and came toward me, kneeling in front of me. He placed his hands on my shoulders, and looked me in the eye.

"Your parents did not tell you these things?"

"No," I said. "I had no knowledge. I was always told women were less than men, and..."

"There is some truth in that," he said, "but just because women are less than men does not mean women cannot do great things as men can. If a lord shows heroism in battle, and a peasant soldier does as well, then in that moment, the two men become equal. They can never be equal in who they are, but they can be equal in what they do. This is what it means to be a lord's wife."

Hotaki's words stirred something in me, like one had lifted the cover off a gas lamp and filled the room with light that was second only to the sun. Not thinking, I threw my arms about him and found myself in his embrace. He responded to my touch by putting one arm about my shoulder, the other patting the back of my head as if he was unsure of how to hug someone.

I realized what I was doing, and pulled away from him as quickly as I had hugged him, rising to my feet and turning away.

"Forgive me," I said.

The rustle of cloth told me he was standing as well. "What for?" he asked. "Aren't we friends?"

Oh, but Hotaki, you do not know of the way I thought of you. I turned to him, and he once more put his hands on my shoulders.

"I...yes, Hotaki," I said. "I can call you my friend."

"As my lord's personal assistant, I should call his wife my friend."

I wondered if he was friends with any of the other wives, or if I was the first. He pulled me into another hug, this one tight and more natural than the first, and as I returned it, I realized that he must have felt nothing for me, like the way I had thought of him. Even as I stood in his arms, I searched for that feeling my thoughts had given me when I imagined being his, and I felt nothing. Perhaps it had simply been a fleeting wish that vanished as soon as it had come.

Hotaki released me. "Whenever you need help, or advice, you come to me, or Komo," he said.

I nodded. Hotaki motioned to the table.

"Now, you're needed for the last step of joining families," he said. "All you have to do is sign your name."

As he returned to his table, and I knelt before it to sign the character for my name, I felt better and more confident in myself that Hotaki saw me as more than a vessel to carry a baby. I did have a friend in him, I thought, when I had never really had friends before.

I finished my name, seeing my parents' names beside Lord Ashiro's, and as Hotaki rolled the scroll and dripped wax, the heavy feeling in my chest began to disappear. If it was the Creator's will that I be married to Ashiro, I would go along with it, After all, my family was in a better place now, and I was as well.

But I had to stay alive, one way or the other, and the deaths of the previous wives brought a new kind of heaviness in me. The secrets of the island would not remain buried from me.