Kaede stood flat against the outer wall of the dawn dojo, the incense stick pressed to her chest, and forced her thoughts into formation.
The evidence stood as follows. The most sacred hall of her line: destroyed.
Her sister: naked in the wreckage, her behind still faintly red.
Enemies present: none, because the only threat left on Fujimori land was lounging in the middle of it.
The conclusion assembled itself with terrible ease, and for that conclusion, clan doctrine held exactly one procedure.
A Fujimori struck by an outside hand was answered with steel, drawn, before the echo finished.
Steel, against Quinlan Elysiar.
She had no blade, no standing, and no illusions.
The man had stormed the duchy's capital in a day, and she, disgraced and powerless, would not survive one second of his genuine attention.
