I breathed in the frigid air, the snow crunching underfoot. The pathway, coated in a white layer of the flakes, had a sort of comforting silence over it.

I wrapped my shawl tighter about myself, lifting it over my head to keep my ears warm as well. I looked back behind me to see that the rooftops of the house were further away than I thought. The pathway itself led into the depths of the pine forest that made up the rest of the island.

I had come outside after a light lunch and some tea to cure my headache. The cold felt good on my skin, and as I was tightly wrapped in robes of wool, with extra pairs of socks on my feet, I was suited for a walk in the snow. All I wanted was the quiet—no birds, no bugs, no sound of nature. The frozen silence was enough to calm my nerves.

The bells from the island's temple rang out the hour, and I made note of the time. I did not want to be out too long, or past sundown.

I continued on my way down the stone path, into the woods, where the snow was thinner on the ground because of how close the pines had grown together. I could have called it dark inside the woods; the light from the sky did not penetrate the branches and needles this far.

Soon, the crunching sound of my feet in the snow gave way to the clack of my shoes on the stone path. I strained my ears to hear any sound of life, but the only thing I heard was the creak of the branches under the weight of the ice and snow.

Not a soul had told me I wasn't to go into the woods, but the further I went along, I had this sense that I did not belong under the trees.

Get used to it, Yori, my mind whispered to me. The whole island tells you that you do not belong here.

It was possible I didn't. I continued along, staring up at the tangle of naked branches. But I was here, and nothing could take me off the island. I did not see myself leaving anytime soon.

Unless I go in the form of ashes, contained within a wooden box.

I swallowed. The reality of my position as wife brought the expectation of my own death. I was sure, then, that the rest of the region was patiently waiting, already pulling out their black robes and wooden masks for the funeral that they were certain was to happen.

Did not the emperor know of this? Would he not try and stop the needless deaths of innocent women?

Peace.

I stopped and pressed my hands to the sides of my head, as if that would crush the thoughts into nonexistence. No, no, I wouldn't let myself think of this. But it was a constant pressing thought, one which I could not avoid. If I died, how? Would I be sacrificed? Murdered by my own husband? Or would an illness creep up from the ground of the island and take hold of me, slowly draining every bit of strength until I was nothing more than a lifeless corpse?

My chest felt tight, my heart racing. I pushed further into the woods, down the path, and began to hum Usikawa's Lullaby to myself, hoping that the sound would do something to calm me. The path took a turn ahead, and I thoughtlessly followed it, hoping that I would be lost deep in the woods where no members of my lord's house would find me.

I didn't want to be found, at that point, and though Hotaki's words earlier that day had given me some hope and joy, I still felt the looming shadow of my death hanging over me.

I needed to be alone, surrounded by nature, and my feet carried me deeper into the woods. The silence of the woods, with no sound of living things, seemed to settle over me, and I stopped.

I had hardly noticed that I was no longer hearing the clack of wooden shoes on cobblestone. I turned, moving the shawl from my head so I could see behind me. Nothing but the pines, standing together, could be seen around me. I turned to look over my shoulder, but there was no sign of the path, simply more trees. The frozen silence was unbroken aside from the beating of my heart. The light and snow had not reached the thicker part of the forest, and I stood among the pine needles, waiting perhaps to hear some sound of another person coming down the path.

I could see no cobblestone, but as I looked around my position, I saw that I was standing on a beaten path, perhaps tread into permanency by many feet over many years.

There was a possibility that it would carry me in a loop through the woods, back to the cobblestone path. I hadn't wanted to be found, but it didn't necessarily mean I wanted to be lost.

I almost laughed at the thought that went through my brain: my first day being a wife, and I would be found frozen in the woods.

I decided it was best to go along the trodden path, rather than try to find the cobblestone, and get lost in the woods, until there was no chance of my ever being found.

But I must have been foolish! The island was not overwhelmingly large, and I would have found my way out of the dark pines quickly enough. Except—except, the pines seemed to swallow me, and all the light, and all the warmth. As I hurried along the path, my toes and fingers began to feel the pain from my exposure to the cold.

The deeper I went into the woods, the darker it got. I tried to peer through the pines, which were growing closer together, their branches snagging at my clothes so I had to wrap them tighter about myself. Were my eyes playing tricks on me? I was certain I was seeing fog in the trees, in the form of a great gray wall. Fog meant I would be near to the shore, but as I went further on the path, I realized that I was looking at a wall of stone.

I stopped. The pines had thinned out around the wall. I realized it must have been the wall that ringed the island to preserve it from invaders, but as I drew closer, I gasped. Staring at me was a snarling dragon's face carved into the stone. I ran a hand along the weather-beaten surface. I could see the faintest traces of white paint on the dragon's face.

The Inugoya Dragon.

I looked down to see that the path ran along the wall, so I decided to follow it. I kept my hand along the wall, glancing every few steps I took. There were more dragon faces, each one snarling in a different way, yet all equally ferocious and terrifying. As I walked, I came to the realization that it was curving around, and that it must not have been the wall around the island. It made a ring keeping something inside…

I stopped when I saw that I was before the doors, and as I turned my head, I could see that the trees opened up, and the path stretched on from the strange walls, and I was looking at some kind of yard, and the path was lined with statues of warriors in armor. I went into the yard, looking at the statues. There were seven of them, I counted, each the same, holding their swords at their sides. I glanced back at the doors, where a white dragon stared at me.

Something settled in my skin. I felt sick for a moment, and my feet felt heavy, as if the ground was drawing me in. My heart pounded with terror—though I did not know why. I could not keep my balance, and had to seek support by leaning against one of the statues.

As suddenly as it came, the feeling passed. I was left bewildered, wondering what had caused me to feel that way.

But there was no time to think on it. I heard voices on the other side of the door. Something told me that it was not my place to be there, so I hurried back to the wall, moving out of sight of the doors just in time—they were creaking open, and I pressed my back against the wall, holding my breath as I heard two male voices grow louder as they passed through the doors. I heard the doors shut, and a voice humming, before a click sounded.

"It will have to do for the time being."

I recognized the voice of the high priest, and waited, straining my ears to hear more.

"Until then," the priest went on, "I recommend speaking with Yori over the matter."

"Teku." Ashiro's voice touched my ears, firm, tired, sad. "She is a child."

"She is also your wife, and carries nearly the same responsibilities as you." Teku sounded like a father speaking to his son. I heard him sigh, and I remained motionless when I saw their backs, as they went walking down the path.

Ashiro wore a black cloak over his robes, and he pulled it tighter about himself—I thought I saw him shudder. "She is not ready. You saw what happened last night."

"I know, I know." Teku placed a hand on the lord's shoulder, and they walked away like that, their voices fading as they went off. "But what was foreseen will happen anyway, whether you try to stop it or not."

"It is no prophecy," Ashiro said. "Futures can change. It doesn't have to happen this way."

They stopped speaking, and by the time they resumed their conversation, they were already out of earshot, their voices only a soft murmur, like the breath of the wind in the trees.

I took a deep breath after having to breathe lightly for so long. Ashiro and Teku vanished in the trees, but I waited until I could see no trace of them, or hear their voices, before I finally moved.

I tried to pinpoint what exactly I felt watching my husband and the priest walk away from the strange stone circle. All I can describe it as is confusion. What did they mean it was my responsibility as well?

I stepped out onto the path, and looked about at the statues, before turning back to the doors. For a moment, I thought I had seen the eyes of the dragon glowing, but I blinked, and I figured it was my imagination.

I stepped forward and wrapped my fingers about the handle of the door. Perhaps what was beyond the doors would explain things.

I pulled. The doors did not budge, and I remembered the click I had heard. Locked, of course. I stopped, and looked around, spotting a tree that was growing close to the wall. The wall, I guessed, as at the most twelve feet tall, but if I could climb a tree and see if there was some way to get within the strange circle…

Somewhere, far off, the bells of the household rang out the hour. I counted: it was the sixteenth hour of the day. It was getting late, and though the sun was not yet setting, it was getting dark within the woods. I didn't want to be stuck in the woods when darkness fell. I looked back at the doors one last time, and decided it was best I went home, before I was missed.

I would return to the strange stone circle the following day, perhaps early in the morning. If it had something to do with me, it was my right to know.

I hurried along the path, praying it would take me back to the house. The thought of my husband keeping such secrets from me made me determined to discover them. After all, he had chosen me as his wife, yet he sought to keep secrets from me. I was certain that if I were older, and his ideal choice of a wife, he might have indulged all of his secrets to me, possibly even before the day of our wedding.

I did not look back at the doors as I went along. As I left the strange circle behind me, I began to feel light-headed, and tried to pick up my pace before I began to feel more dizzy than I already was. I did not want to be found fainted somewhere I was certain I did not belong.