I lowered myself to my knees before Ashiro's door and counted to three before I knocked. Komo had informed me that one never approached his chambers from the outside—a sign of challenge, traditionally. As his wife, I would always have to approach from inside, and could not enter the room before he did.

My stomach churned with anxiety, as I had not conversed with my husband since the previous night, in which he had silenced me and left me to myself. I debated whether or not I was to tell him of what I had seen in the woods. I had the strange feeling it was not something I was supposed to see, though I had never been specifically forbidden.

And was I to tell him of the ordeal with Itsua shortly before? My face still stung from the blow, and I had developed a bruise where my head hit the wall, and no amount of arranging my hair could hide it. I had rehearsed a few lies to tell if he noticed, though I had no clue how to hide the red welt on my face from Itsua's hand. It stood out more on my white skin, and there was no hiding that from my husband either.

From the other side of the door, Ashiro's voice cut through the silence.

"Enter."

I took a deep breath, my chest seizing, and slid the door open. I kept my eyes on the ground as I rose to my feet, bowed once, and entered the chamber.

At once the smell of food hit me, and though I had hardly touched food that day, I could not feel hunger. A table was placed in the middle of the room, various dishes of food set about, with tea in the middle of it all.

I had only been in his chambers once, before the wedding when I had chased the child, but it had been dark and I hadn't seen it since. Now, as I stood in the doorway, I saw that it was humble compared to what I thought it might have been. It was smaller than I expected, and though it sported walls painted with finely detailed landscape, it was hardly different from my parents' room at home—a personal altar in one corner, his futon rolled in another.

Ashiro himself stood by the open door to his balcony, looking outside, but turned and closed the door behind him when I entered.

"Shut the door."

I closed it behind me, but remained beside it, unsure of what to do. Ashiro faced me, his brows drawn together and a frown on his face much like what I had seen at the wedding.

"What happened to your face?" he asked.

I swallowed to ease the dryness in my throat. There was no way I could have hidden it. He was bound to notice, and I had to use some excuse.

"I slipped, my lord," I said. "The ice was slick today."

"You're not hurt?"

"Not severely."

He made no comment on my lie, though I felt that he was not entirely convinced. He nodded, once. "Very well. You must do better to be careful."

"I will, my lord."

I remained standing as he seated himself at the table. He held out his hand and beckoned to me; silent, I came forward and seated myself across from him, placing my hands on my knees. I tried not to show that, like I had been with Itsua, I was wary of my husband's presence. After all, I was alone with him in his chambers, and I feared his intent was to keep me with him past supper.

It was my place to serve tea to begin the meal; I served his tea, and then mine, before seating myself and waiting for him to take the first sip of tea.

He said nothing as he sipped his tea. In the tense silence, I waited until he had set his cup down to take my own and sip at it. It did well to warm my insides, but not to calm the knot of anxiety within me.

I was spared serving the rest of the meal, as he served himself. I set my tea down and took in the sight of the arrangement of rice, noodles, fresh seafood, and stews spread on the table before us. It smelled wonderful, and certainly tasted it as well, but I could not bring myself to be hungry. Despite my disinterest at the meal, I did not want to make Ashiro cross with me, so I served myself some rice and fish—plain enough for me to stomach.

I half expected him to make some remark about the ordeal last night. No doubt the city buzzed with the news of the wedding catastrophe, pulling the lord's name into the mud a seventh time. It was all my fault. I had shamed his house, and perhaps his entire region.

I ate a small bite of rice, the warmth of it sparking my appetite. Dare I apologize to him and get it out of the way? I would perhaps look like a fool if I did.

"I have not seen you much today," Ashiro commented, serving himself some rice as well. "Are you ill?"

I looked up, swallowed the mouthful of rice. "Not ill, my lord," I said. "But I've felt better before."

He gave a small nod. He placed his bowl down, and I could see him take a deep breath. "I must apologize to you for...last night. My behavior was unnecessary."

I paused. I had not expected him to be the one to make an apology.

"I can see my words hurt you deeply—that is why you avoided me today, isn't it?"

"It is."

He sighed, but I could see the smallest of smiles play at the corners of his mouth. "I was avoiding you in return," he said. "The shame I felt for hurting you kept me from seeking your company."

I recalled the strange walled area in the woods, and Ashiro and Teku discussing...whatever I had to do with all this. Ashiro had still insisted I was a child, unprepared for whatever seemed to be hanging over the heads of all those in the island. His apology, then, felt somewhat shallow to me if he was still willing to treat me as a child and keep secrets from me.

"You must forgive me," he went on.

I set my bowl down, considering the man kneeling before me. "You have my forgiveness," I said. "In turn, you must accept my apology, for causing such a—"

He held up his hand. "I don't wish to speak anymore of last night. It was an accident, and it is not your place to be sorry for what you can't control."

His words, for some unknown reason, caused me discomfort, but I nodded regardless. "Of course."

"Now," he said, taking his bowl, "We shall enjoy our meal. It will do us both some good to be in each other's presence—we shall start over, as husband and wife."

I forced a smile. I found it difficult to enjoy when there was so much weighing on me. I was sure he meant kindly, yet I could not bring myself to trust him after his apology. "Husband and wife" caused my heart to jump. Being alone with him caused me concern; I had avoided him not only because of his hurtful words, but because of my fear to consummate our marriage. What exactly I was afraid of, I didn't know. Once we did spend a night together, there was no backing out of the marriage until one of us was dead—the covenant would be sealed and my last hope of finding a way off the island would be gone.

Another part of me prayed he would wait until the year was up and quietly dismiss me. Should that happen, however, I would have to say goodbye to my chance at marrying anyone else. Divorce denounced marriage, yet the bond was still there: marrying anyone else while divorced was similar to adultery. And in my case, being dismissed by a lord would be a great embarrassment for the both of us. He would be known as the lord who allowed his wife to walk away from him, and I would have to live my days alone with no husband or children, or take the journey to become a nun, forever with that shame hanging over my head.

I deemed it a worthy sacrifice to make, yet I also scolded myself for being one to constantly run from marriages.

I tried to eat my food despite my lack of appetite. I did not wish to cause Ashiro worry, so I forced the rice down. After all, I had hardly touched food that day, and knew I would wake up feeling worse in the morning.

I thought against bringing up what I had seen in the woods—I was certain it was not my place to be there, if Ashiro thought it best to keep it from me. A better plan would be to seek it out myself, and find a way to enter. On the other hand I feared what would happen should I be discovered.

Should I have remained hidden for a few days, seeing when Ashiro and Teku came and left the walled area, remaining patient, then I would have known when it would be safe to work my way in...

"Would you care for some wine?"

I pulled myself out of my thoughts, raising my head. My tea had been unfinished, and I realized I had been sitting nearly motionless with my bowl in my hands.

"Wine?" I echoed.

"You seem distant."

I hadn't meant to become so absorbed in my thoughts before him. I had never had wine before—Mother and Father had never let me touch it—and I wasn't sure if I would have liked it anyway. But I didn't want to deny my husband's gesture, so I returned my bowl to the table and gave a small nod of the head. "I think I'm too tense," I said.

"You would do well to relax." He served me my cup of wine himself, handing it across the table to me. As I reached to take it, our fingers brushed, reminding me much of that day before the sealing ceremony when my hands had touched Itsua's, causing me to nearly drop what I had been holding.

Only now, it was not as jarring, for Ashiro's touch did not send a chill up my arms, or cause me to want to pull away as fast as I could. I took the cup, dipping my head in gratitude, and setting it down before me.

Ashiro's hands remained extended. "Give me your hands," he said.

Unsure of what his intent was, I offered them to him anyway, allowing him to close his hands about mine like that night I had first wandered into his room. His hands were warm, still rough and calloused as I remembered, mine soft and white against his.

"Are you always so cold?"

"I am often," I said. "The winter does me no justice."

To my surprise, he smiled at my reply, giving my hands a light squeeze before releasing them. "This winter had better end soon," he said, "or you'll freeze to death."

I knew he meant it lightly, but it was nearly ominous. His words reminded me that the days had seemed to be growing colder, rather than warmer since Ice-breaking Day. I shivered, but hid it by raising the cup of wine to my lips.

That, and his casual comment about my potential death, caused the knot in my stomach to return.

"I must leave you alone again tomorrow," Ashiro said. "I have matters I must see to with Teku, and I need to arrange for our journey to the emperor's court."

I guessed his matters with Teku involved the walled area in the woods, which he was so keen on keeping secret from me. On the other hand, the mention of "our" going to the emperor's court sparked interest for me. "Will we be going to the capital?"

He gave a nod of his head. "The imperial council is only a few weeks away, and I'm sure the emperor would like to meet you as well."

The imperial council was always held at the end of the year's first month, when new year's festivities had eventually died down. Each lord left his region to head to the capital, to look back on the achievements and the shortcomings of the past year, and to plan for the year ahead.

"Do you go every year?" I asked.

He paused. "Of course," he said. "I do leave my island, Yori." Again, I could see that amusement on his face. "I am aware of the rumors my people like to spread about me—that I have not left since Miko's funeral, and that I am gaunt and yellow, and perhaps even have sharp teeth and long black nails." He sipped his wine, one eyebrow raised.

I remained silent, though I could feel heat creeping into my face. I had been one to believe a few of those rumors—though I had expected Ashiro to be a rather old man, instead of deformed and hideous as he had said.

"It will be the first time you've left the region, if I am correct," my husband went on.

"Yes," I replied.

"As a lord's wife, you will soon grow accustomed to travel. It doesn't help to lurk behind closed doors and wither away."

I finished my wine, placing the cup before me and setting my hands on my knees to indicate I had finished my meal. While the thought of leaving the island which had so quickly become my home brought me some joy, I also dreaded the thought of being in the emperor's court. I had hardly enough experience to act properly before a lord without instruction, so who knew how well I would do before the emperor, and the rest of the lords and all their noble family. Certainly their wives were elegant, mature, beautiful even, already with children in tow. Ashiro would bring with him a child he called his wife, small and white. Would the ladies of the empire look down upon me with pity?

"Poor girl," they would say, "doomed already. There's another one to go to her grave."

I expected that the lords were suspicious of Ashiro, with six wives dead before me, and I would feel all the more out of place.

Part of me wished that I could remain behind closed doors, to spend my years in solitude.

Ashiro set his cup down and rested his hands atop his knees as well. "Are you finished?"

I nodded. He stood and indicated for me to. Once I was on my feet, he rang the bell for the servants, then extended his hand toward the balcony door.

"Come," he said. "We'll get out of the servants' way."

I didn't know what his intentions were, but it sounded better than being around the servants, whose presence made my skin crawl.

He opened the door and let me through first; I stepped out onto the balcony into the cold of the night. The air was still, and a layer of clouds hung over the island, hiding the stars from my sight. I hugged my arms about myself to keep warm.

Ashiro closed the door behind him and drew to my side. The lanterns which hung from the eaves of the roof gave a warm light to the courtyard below, and I could see the rest of the house with the aid of their light, carrying on into the darkness.

"I will escort you to your room," he said, offering me his arm.

I hesitated, but hooked my arm in his. After all, it was only a short walk to my room, where he would leave me to spend the night alone.

He led me down the walkway, the sound of our footsteps on wood breaking the silence. As we walked, a light snow began to drift from the clouds, glittering in the light from the many lanterns. It was nearly a beautiful sight, as if the stars were drifting from the sky to land on the rooftops.

"It does look rather beautiful, doesn't it?" Ashiro asked as we neared my room, as if he had read my mind. We paused, and he released his hold on me to extend his hand out toward the snowfall. "Since I was a boy, I had always believed the snow was the stars, and would try to catch a snowflake, only to have it melt once it touched my hand."

He lowered his hand, but continued to look out over the courtyard. I stood where I was, tucking my hands into my sleeves to warm myself. I had thought I had been the only one to see the snow that way, yet here was the man I married standing before me putting to words something I had felt yet stayed silent about.

I felt a chill—perhaps it was indeed by the will of the Creator that I was to be his wife, one half of our whole.

I pushed the thought away as Ashiro turned to me. "You do not talk much."

I almost laughed at the remark, though there was no humor in my husband's face. I had lived a life of always being silenced, and striking up conversation was something foreign to me. "I am very tired, my lord. Do forgive me." I stifled a yawn.

"There is no need to ask forgiveness," he said. "You should get your rest."

He reached toward me, taking a strand of hair which had worked itself free from the knot at I had tied my hair into, tucking it behind my ear. I suppressed a flinch when his hand remained on the side of my head, though his touch was soft and warm, with no indication he would hurt me. His eyes fell to the top of my bare head, remaining there longer than what I was comfortable with. I could feel my chest tighten with dread, feeling almost naked under his watch.

I shied away from his touch and took a step back away from him. He noticed, stepping away from me as well.

He cleared his throat and gave a slight dip of his head, sliding the door to my room open for me. "Good-night, Yori," he said. "I will see you again tomorrow."

I bowed in return, but could not find in me the voice to answer him. I simply backed into my room and allowed him to shut the door for me. He remained at my door for a few seconds, before I saw his silhouette turn and continue down the walkway, eventually vanishing into the stillness of the night.