I stared at the parchment in front of me and lowered the brush to its surface, signing the character for my name and trying not to let my hand tremble too much. Komo watched me—or at least had her face pointed in my direction—and reached out to gently touch my hand.

"You are afraid?" she asked.

I didn't say anything; I looked up at her, into her blank eyes.

"I can hear you trembling," Komo said.

I started. How could she hear me trembling? "Your…your sense of hearing is that good?" I asked.

Komo smiled past me. "If you are blind for as long as I have been, you will develop senses you wouldn't even imagine."

I wondered if Komo had been blind from birth. Perhaps she had been born without pupils and irises at all, a strange defect that was very uncommon. Usually one born with such a defect had them if the mother was possessed by an unclean spirit. I didn't want to pry and ask Komo such delicate questions, so I remained silent and finished the last line in the character for my name. She removed her hand, still looking at me (at least at my shoulder) and waited for me to finish. When I was done, she took the parchment and handed it over to the silent masked servant, who bowed and hurried out of the room.

I was in Komo's downstairs study of the little guest house, where she had taken all of our names again, and had us sign papers to guarantee that we were who we said we were. The papers were not for us to sign to grant our own approval of being handed over to the lord's house; the Nageeya house had control over the Nageeya, and my parents had control over me. An unmarried young woman was not expected to make her own decisions.

I must admit I was rather nervous. The first day of testing was the physical one. A doctor was coming to the island to look us over and make sure we had no health issues. Lord Ashiro-han needed a healthy wife if he was to produce an heir.

I stood when Komo dismissed me, and left the room to the small dining area, where the Nageeya were already starting breakfast. Hotaki was at the table with them, seated next to Kitsei. I took the seat on Kitsei's other side, helping myself to the warm broth.

"Hotaki was telling us of the island," Kitsei said to me, passing me a plate of flatbread. I took a piece, looking at her with interest.

"And?"

"When the seven brothers defeated the demons," said Hotaki, "the youngest took the island because the demons could not cross over such large expanses of water. Even though he was victorious over the demons, Lord Ashiro-han's ancestor didn't want to take any chances."

I remembered the story of the seven brothers: it had been hundreds of years ago, and it was the story of how our land had become a kingdom. Before then, it was a land filled with roaming bands of mercenaries, tiny villages prone to attacks, and evil spirits that roamed the land because of the seven demons. The seven demons rose to power when the last king of our land had fallen to temptation, and the Creator could not change the king's stone heart. For hundreds of years our country was tormented by the seven demons and their children, until seven brothers from a small village decided enough was enough. Each brother fought his own demon, the eldest taking the mightiest demon, Agira, the demon of hate and wrath. When the final battle was won and the demons returned to the underworld, the Creator appointed the eldest as emperor. The land was split into seven regions, and the seven lords rose to power.

Ashiro-han's ancestor, Akiro, took the region of the Eastern coast, which is on the lowest tier, as he was the youngest. He had defeated Aga, the sightless and hideous demon of deceit and false wisdom. Each of the brothers gained the powers opposite that which the demons had; for example, the oldest gained compassion and patience as opposed to Agira's sin, the youngest gained true wisdom and truth, the brother who defeated the demon of greed became generous, and so on. From there on, the houses of the seven lords have been blessed with the gifts.

"Akiro had defeated Aga in single combat," I said, "and was still a boy when he did. Just because he was the youngest didn't mean that the demon he defeated was the least powerful. What did he have to fear?"

"The return of the demons," said Hotaki. "For years afterwards, the seven brothers were afraid that the demons would rise to power, so they had temples built, and the emperor assigned priests to watch over the land in case the demons returned from the underworld." He lifted his bowl of broth to his lips. "Just as Lord Ashiro-han has had watchtowers constructed in case the eastern kingdoms of Bakaar attempt another invasion."

The end of the twenty-year war marked the start of tension between our land and the eastern kingdoms. The kings of Bakaar had wanted our land for centuries, and their attempt at invasion was quickly destroyed, and their kingdoms suffered heavily in the war when our people went to fight them. It was wise of Lord Ashiro-han to keep watch on the coast; after all, he was the only lord whose region extended a coastline. It was up to him to defend the eastern border.

Hotaki finished his broth and stood. "If you will excuse me," he said, "I must return to my lord. It was a pleasure meeting you, and I hope that I will see you again at the end of this day." He gave a small bow to us, and I noticed Kitsei staring after him as he left.

"He's attractive," said Fumei as she set her bowl of broth down. "And young."

Kitsei looked back at her breakfast; I saw the smallest hint of pink on her cheeks. Fumei did tell the truth; Hotaki was a very attractive man, with a perfectly angled face and high cheekbones that women seemed to be drawn to. And he was rather young; much younger than Lord Ashiro-han was, I was sure.

I finished my breakfast and looked around, glancing at the two masked servants in the corner. I had meant to ask Hotaki why the servants wore masks but decided against it, thinking that perhaps it was as sensitive a subject as the question of why Komo had white eyes.

I stood to excuse myself, returning to the upstairs room that I had shared with the Nageeya that night. I found Komo there, holding a pale blue robe. She lifted her head in my direction.

"Who is there?"

"Matamura Yori," I said.

Komo beckoned me forward, reaching out to touch me. I offered my arm, and she pulled me forward. "You will wear this robe for the testing days. Whatever robe you have on will be put away until the testing is over."

I was wearing the silver robe that I had worn to the island the day before. I untied my belt and pulled the silver robe off, setting it on the futon and taking the pale blue garment from Komo. I slipped it over my arms; it was a little long on me, but by folding the robe up, I could tie the belt over it so I wouldn't trip on the hem. The sleeves, gathered at my wrists, were still a little too long, but they had little cords that I could tighten around my wrists so the sleeves wouldn't fall over my hands.

Komo felt around the futon and picked up the silver robe, giving me a small nod. "The doctor will be here within the hour," she said. "I will send for you when he arrives."

She turned and left me, walking with such grace and poise I could not have imagined that she could not see. Her hair was twisted up onto her head, and to my surprise, I saw a small glimpse of color rising above the neckline of her robe. She shut the door after her, and I couldn't see anymore. I hadn't noticed an ivory comb in her hair to mark her as a married woman, but the presence of a tattoo meant that she had been married. She was still young enough to bear children, but…perhaps she wasn't able to.

An infertile spouse was a great tragedy to a family; our people put so much into the thought of having children and passing down tradition to generations that the discovery of a spouse who couldn't produce children broke hearts. It was common for a husband to sell his infertile wife to a Wailer house, a practice which Emperor Iwa-Vong was trying to abolish.

My thoughts drifted to Lord Ashiro-han. Had he been unable to produce an heir because he himself was infertile? It was unheard of that a lord or anyone in a lord's family had ever been infertile, as the Creator promised that the lords and emperors of all the land would be blessed with heirs more numerous than all the grains of sand throughout the entire world.

I tried not to think on it too much.

----------------------------------------

The towers of the lord's house hung over us as Komo led us into one of the small buildings where the doctor waited. My heart was hammering, and I tried not to grow anxious wondering if there was anything the doctor would find wrong with me.

We entered the main room of the small house, and I was surprised to see Hotaki kneeling behind a little desk in the corner. He was bent over some paperwork, sliding beads on an abacus. I wondered if he was managing the expense of having the doctor over; it was uncommon for a doctor to do anything for free.

Hotaki smiled as he looked up, and I smiled back, feeling a blush rising to my face when I realised he was smiling at Kitsei. Komo had us sit around a small firepit set in the center of the floor as she went into the next room to notify the doctor.

I held my hands over the hot rocks, looking around at the Nageeya. Fumei was examining her nails again, and Amei was fidgeting with the end of her belt. Omei stared at the hot rocks in silence. I looked over to Kitsei to see her staring at her hands.

"You're not nervous about this, are you?" I asked.

She smiled up at me. "We see the doctor every month. I'm used to this."

Komo came through the door. "The doctor will see the oldest now," she said.

Fumei stood and went into the room. Komo shut the door behind her and came to join us.

I heard muffled voices behind the door; I guessed that the doctor was asking Fumei the typical questions that a doctor would ask a patient. I glanced at Kitsei again; this time, she was picking at her lip.

"You all are so silent," Hotaki said.

"There isn't much to talk about," Omei said.

"I can smell how nervous you all are," Hotaki said with a grin. "It's just a routine checkup; nothing to worry about." He glanced at Komo. "It isn't Doctor Fajiwo, is it?" he asked.

"No," said Komo. "It is the younger one whose name I cannot recall."

I tried not to groan; I wasn't nervous with the thought of getting poked and prodded by an old man, but now I had heard that the doctor was a young man. It made my anxiety increase.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"This is not going as I expected," Kitsei said. Komo smiled in her direction.

"He might be handsome," she said.

"That makes it worse," I said.

Komo laughed, patting my hand. "Then try not to dwell on it."

Once again, Kitsei slipped her hand into mine. "I wish we could go together," she said.

I wrapped both my hands around hers and squeezed them gently, unsure of what to say.

After a few minutes, Fumei stepped out, a small paper in her hand. She went to Hotaki and handed him the paper; he read over it before writing something on the paper in front of him and handing the paper back to Fumei. Komo stood and led Fumei out of the house. Omei stood and went into the next room herself, not speaking a single word.

We fell into silence again; after a few minutes, Omei stepped out, looking confused as she handed Hotaki her paper. He wrote some things down again, handed the paper back to Omei, and instructed her to go back to the guest house.

The same went for Amei; she came out, gave her paper to Hotaki, and left. Kitsei was still holding my hand as she stood. She noticed, pulled her hand out of mine, and went to the room, sliding the door shut behind her as she gave me one last look. I smiled at her, hoping to encourage her.

Hotaki and I were the only ones left in the room. I glanced at him, noticing that he had his chin in his hand and was fiddling with the abacus. He looked over at me, and I remembered thinking about how handsome he was. His eyes had the perfect slant to them, his nose was perfectly straight—and here I was with the chance of being married to an older man.

"Is Kitsei a close friend of yours?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I met her on the boat yesterday."

"Do you have any friends?"

"No…I never really left my house much."

"So this is the first time you're staying away from your home."

"Yes," I said. "It's the farthest I've ever been from my home, to be honest."

Hotaki lifted his head from his hand. "Are you afraid?"

I laughed, shaking my head. Hotaki drew his brows together. "Why do you laugh?"

"I have been asked that over and over," I said. "And yes, I am rather afraid. I do not know if Lord Ashiro-han is someone to be feared. What's he like?"

Hotaki looked shocked at both my answer and my question. He cleared his throat. "Lord Ashiro-han has been like a father to me," he said. My spirits sank when I began to think of how old the lord really was if he was like a father to Hotaki. "More, though…more like an older brother. His father was like a father to me, and when his father and brothers died, Lord Ashiro-han promised to see to it that I had a future ahead of me."

I waited for him to say more.

"He is kind, and full of wisdom, and very just," Hotaki continued. I had heard those things about Lord Ashiro-han over and over. "He sees to it that all his subjects, even the lowest peasant, is cared for."

I frowned. That was what everyone said about Lord Ashiro-han. I didn't know what he was like as a man. Had his wives loved him? Had he loved his wives?

I was about to ask something more when the door slid open and Kitsei stepped out. Her eyes were red, and I noticed that tears were spilling from them, making wet lines on her perfect face. I rose to my feet, suddenly worried for her, but she went straight to Hotaki and handed him the paper. He read it, then looked back up at her, his eyes wide and his face white.

"Kitsei…" he said.

"I must leave the island," she said, her voice trembling. Hotaki stood, but Kitsei turned to go, not even looking at me as she passed me to the door. I reached out to stop her, but she slid the door open and hurried out. I looked out the door to see her running across the walk, before Komo, who was returning, grabbed her arm to stop her. Hotaki came to my side and shut the door. He returned to his small desk and wrote something down on his piece of paper. He looked up at me.

"You should go in there," he said, inclining his head to the door.

Still wondering about Kitsei, I gave Hotaki a small bow and entered the room where the doctor waited, seeing a man and woman standing to the side. The woman was shaking her head, and I recognised her white robes marking her as a nun. I wondered, for a moment, what a nun would be doing there with the doctor, but I was more confused at the doctor's appearance.

He wore no robes, but western-style clothes that I recognized from the ink illustrations in the paper: things called trousers that each leg fit into, and a white shirt that had fasteners called buttons, and an odd sleeveless sort of thing that buttoned up the middle that I had heard called a 'waistcoat'. His hair was parted in the middle and combed to the sides and back, his large ear sticking out. He looked up at me, adjusting the short, wide ribbon around his neck that westerners called a tie.

"Matamura Yori?" he asked.

I looked up from his black shoes, marveling at his gray suit. I had never seen one of our people dressed like a westerner. I stared at him with the same sort of confusion as I would stare at a snake with fur.

"Ah…yes…" I said. The smoky sweet smell of incense filled the air, and I noticed the young nun holding a bowl with a steady stream of smoke rising from it.

"Very good," said the doctor. He looked down at the flat piece of wood in his hand; he had a strange black stick with a sharp metal tip in his other hand, and he used it to write on the piece of paper that rested on the wood board. The stick made a strange scratching noise.

"Please remove your robe," he said.

I reluctantly untied my belt and pulled my robe off, standing there before the doctor and the nun in my thin white under robe. The nun took the blue robe, and the doctor came over, scribbling and scratching on his piece of paper.

"Have you ever broken a bone?" he asked.

"No."

"Have you ever suffered severe illness?"

"Yes," I said.

"What was it?"

"A fever, when I was little."

"Very good." He scribbled again. "Have you had your bleedings?"

"Yes."

"When did you receive your first one?"

"When I was fifteen." The personal questions did not bother me as much as I thought they would.

"Have they ever stopped or been delayed for any reason?"

"No."

"Very good." He scratched the odd black stick over the paper. "Have you ever had any mental illness? Any hallucinations, irrational thoughts, or long periods of unexplained confusion?"

"No to all."

"Very good." He handed the board and the black stick to the nun. He then went around to my back, and he pulled my under robe down, exposing my shoulders and back. I felt his fingers poking at my back, along my spine, at my shoulderblades. He then gently bent me over, running his hand over my whole back. I recognized the way he touched me; he was checking to see if I had any hunch to my back. My grandmother had told me that the smallest twist of the spine or hunch in a back could make a pregnancy very painful.

He straightened me, pulling my robe back up and over my shoulders, before coming around to face me. He took my head in his hands and turned it this way and that, and he had me open my mouth so he could look at my teeth. When he was done, he took his board and black stick back.

"You are physically healthy, Yori," he said. "I just have to ask a few more questions."

"Of course, doctor."

"Have you ever had relations with a man or been pregnant?"

"No."

"Very good." He turned to the nun. "Ukara, please."

She gave a bow of her head, returning my robe to me. I gratefully put it back on and tied the belt. The nun came before me, handing me the bowl of incense.

"Breathe this in," she said.

I took the bowl, realizing who the nun was; she had a mark on her forehead, a little moon, that told me of her specialty. Newlywed or soon to be married couples went to the nuns like this Ukara, as the nuns were something like seers. This nun would tell me if I was fertile or not.

I breathed in the incense, a tingling going through my nose. I felt alert, almost, and as the nun took my head and touched her forehead to mine, I could feel something stirring deep inside me. The nun hummed for a few seconds, then stepped back, taking the bowl from me. She nodded to the doctor, who wrote something more on his paper.

"Very good," he said. He took the piece of paper he had written on and handed it to me. "You are dismissed."

I paused as I was about to go out the door. "The girl who came before me," I said. "She…she can't have children, can she?"

The doctor and the nun looked at each other. "I'm afraid not," he said.

I hung my head. Poor Kitsei—there was no telling what would happen to her once she returned to her Nageeya house. "I will pray for her," I said before heading out the door.

I went to Hotaki, handing the little paper to him. He looked upset, and said nothing to me as he wrote down on his paper after reading mine. He handed the paper back to me, and I left the little house, wondering what was bothering him so.

----------------------------------------

The sound of a metal-stringed instrument carried through the house as we ate our supper. The rest of the day after the doctor's examination of us went rather uneventfully; Komo tested us on basic knowledge, and I had barely passed. I knew my history, and reading, and religion well, but when it came to counting on an abacus, my mind had gone blank. I had never had training with them like the Nageeya had; I wasn't expected to marry into nobility, and Komo let me off, as I wasn't a Nageeya.

Hotaki played the stringed instrument in the corner, and I saw him pressing keys with one hand while he strummed the metal strings with the other hand. The sound that came from it was metallic, but lively.

"A floor harp," Fumei said. "I know how to play one."

"I've never seen you play one," Omei said.

Fumei smirked and stood, kneeling next to Hotaki. He stopped playing, and she reached over, strumming the strings a few times. She smiled at Hotaki; he looked away in unmasked irritation. Fumei began to play a tune that was faster than the one Hotaki had been playing, and I was reluctant to admit that she was better than Hotaki.

I stood, not wanting to be in the presence of Fumei. Amei had left the table; I left that room and went up the stairs to the room I shared with the Nageeya. I found Amei sitting on her futon, her knees drawn up under her chin, her arms around her legs. She glanced up when I came in, and relaxed, looking at me.

"Poor Kitsei," she said as I sat down on my futon.

"At least she won't be wed to the lord," I said.

"Yes," Amei said. "Though I'm somewhat afraid for her. Some infertile Nageeya are sent to convents, but Kitsei might be too old to go."

"What would happen to her if she wasn't accepted at a convent?" I asked.

"I don't know," Amei said. "I don't want to think about it. Kitsei wanted to be a mother all her life; I knew her since she was a little girl, and all she would talk about was having children."

I frowned. "That is sad," I said.

Amei nodded, laying back on her futon. "And now you and I have a chance to be the seventh wife."

I hung my head, standing to remove my blue robe. I removed my under-robe and pulled the sleeping shift that was provided over my head. I crawled under the blanket of my futon, taking out the ribbon from my hair. I laid down, resting my head on the round pillow and staring at the wall. I could hear conversation and the floor harp below me, and though I was tired, I knew it would be one of those nights where I wouldn't be able to go to sleep.

All day, I hadn't thought of Mother, Father, and Grandmother. I didn't know if I would be able to write them. Perhaps if I failed, Lord Ashiro-han would send word to my parents. I had promised Father I would not fail. He had told me to be brave…I didn't feel much as I lay there on the futon, but I was sure that if I got closer to the potential of being Lord Ashiro-han's wife, I would feel fear.

I wondered perhaps if it was the lord I had seen standing on that balcony. That same wave of sadness had hit me…I could not know for sure if it was Lord Ashiro-han. I had never seen his face, so he could have walked right past me and I could not have known it was him.

I closed my eyes, but all I saw was that snarling mask from seven years ago, the hand catching the lily…

I rolled over onto my other side. Six wives laid to rest at the city temple…for what reason? Father had told me that no one raised an eyebrow at the deaths until the third wife died, and when the fourth, fifth, and sixth wives had followed suit, there was much cause for suspicion. But what was a lord to gain from six deaths? Was there a reason his wives could not live?

I found my heart hammering in my chest. I put a hand there to try and calm it. I realized that the floor harp had stopped playing, but the familiar sound of a pluck-stringed instrument carried through the thin walls of the guest house. I strained my ears. Why, the tune that played was none other than Usikawa's Lullaby.

Something pained my heart. I thought of being ill, shivering under a thin blanket, soaked in sweat, having vomited everything Mother had brought me. I remembered Father, coming into the room with his flute, sitting at the foot of my futon, playing the Dance of the Fishes, singing Usikawa's Lullaby…

I found myself rising from the futon, going to the door to the balcony, sliding it open, stepping out into the frozen air to look out over the lord's house. The sound of the taka still carried over the rooftops of the buildings; every lantern that hung from the eaves of the roofline swung in a gentle breeze, the storm having blow over the previous night. I could see lights through the walls and silhouettes of servants going by, and for a moment I had to stop and think about how many people really lived within those walls. This was what I saw from my window at home; I could not see anything but the rest of the buildings from that balcony, but I was sure I would be able to see the city glittering on the coast from somewhere else on the island.

The sound of the taka was coming from the building directly across from the guest house, cut off by the wall. I could see a man sitting there, silhouetted by a flickering light, and I could see the neck of the taka as he plucked its strings. Another man came into view through the wall, bowing before the man on the taka. The man on the taka stopped playing, and the tune of the lullaby died. I watched the smaller man hand over what looked to be scrolls; I heard muffled voices as the man with the taka took the scrolls.

Why, the man on the taka had to have been Lord Ashiro-han—why else would a servant bow to the man?

The servant took his leave. I was sure it was Hotaki, by the way he walked and the way he snapped open his fan as he left. I watched Lord Ashiro-han's shape open each of the scrolls after setting the taka down. He stood, and the light in the room went out, showing that he had left.

I retreated back into the room, sliding the balcony door shut. Amei was snoring, and Omei and Fumei were coming in with candles. I crawled back onto the futon as they came in, the vision of Lord Ashiro-han playing the taka still in my mind.