Robert’s departure was as sudden as it was silent. He turned on his heel, his boots echoing against the wooden floor as he left without another word. The tension in the room lingered, a ghostly presence that neither Sabrina nor Miura could dispel.

Miura turned to Sabrina, her gaze softening as the door slid shut. “Your brother is a man who mistakes his own fear for righteousness.”

Sabrina sank onto the cushion, her hands trembling slightly. “He’s always been like this. Protective, controlling… but he was never cruel.”

“War changes people,” Miura said simply, pouring another small cup of sake. She slid it toward Sabrina, her movements graceful and deliberate. “It twists their hearts, their intentions. But it does not excuse their actions.”

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Sabrina took the cup, her fingers brushing Miura’s for a fleeting moment. The warmth of the contact steadied her, grounding her amidst the swirling storm of emotions. “You speak as though you know war intimately.”

Miura’s lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. “I have fought many battles, Sabrina. Some with swords, some with words, and many within myself.”

Sabrina studied her, the layers of the courtesan’s words both enticing and impenetrable. “And what of this battle?” she asked softly. “The one you’re fighting now?”

Miura’s smile faltered, her gaze drifting toward the sliding door where Robert had stood moments before. “This battle is not mine alone. It belongs to both of us.”

The words hung in the air, their weight undeniable. Sabrina felt the walls of her carefully constructed life beginning to crumble, each moment with Miura pulling her further into uncharted waters.