I sit up and take in my immediate surroundings. I’m in a bedroom with scrubbed wooden floors covered in plush rugs. Beyond a pair of glass doors lies a balcony. A mirror hangs on the wall, its antique copper frame flecked with green. The bed I’m in is large enough to accommodate both Saengo and me, although a second bed sits across the room. They’re both framed in exquisitely carved oak and draped in curtains dyed the rich orange of persimmons.

“Good afternoon,” says a voice.

I instinctively reach for swords that aren’t there and then force myself to relax. Standing in the doorway is a woman in the crisp gray uniform of what I assume must be the castle staff. She carries a tray with a cup and pitcher.

“Afternoon?” I return warily, glancing at the light through the balcony.

“Indeed. It’s past midday.” She sweeps into the room and sets the tray on a desk.

I haven’t slept past morning bells at the Company in years. Rising from the bed, I scan the room for my things. My boots rest against the wall beside the armoire, the last few days’ worth of mud scraped off the heels. I pull open the armoire. My empty satchel is neatly folded on a shelf above the bare clothes rack.

“Where are my swords?” I ask, circling the room.

I peek into a door beside the armoire. It leads into a small bathing chamber, unfurnished save for a tub partly hidden behind a screen. My gaze falls longingly on the tub, lined with linen to prevent splinters.

“Confiscated, I imagine,” she says dryly. I’m uncertain if she’s teasing me. The servants at the Company never would have dared.

In the bed, Saengo mumbles something in her sleep and rolls over. Her newly short hair sticks up along the side of her head. I frown, an echo of anger tightening in my chest.

In truth, I don’t understand how we’re both not dead. Once again, I’d done something with no earthly idea how or why. But it wouldn’t have been necessary if Ronin’s promise of safe passage had been guaranteed. That he’d ordered us into the woods, knowing we might die, sets fire in my gut. I suppose I ought to be grateful that he came for us, but my store of goodwill has never been very full.

As I prowl through the rest of the room, I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror. My feet freeze. This is the first time I’ve seen my eyes since I glimpsed them in the water.