Nichiren had insisted that Jimmu should keep his feelings strictly disciplined. Now that he was almost eighteen, Jimmu found this far trickier than when he had been a child. It seemed that his feelings did not care to be disciplined. He yearned for Takeko’s attention and approval, and dreamed of her smile. Sometimes he indulged in wild fantasies in which he ran off with Takeko to live a simple life, like that of the peasants in the remote fishing village where he had grown up with Nichiren. Nichiren had scorned such lives as “meaningless,” but the people who led them had seemed happy enough. Jimmu was disgusted with himself after these fantasies, and exercised even more vigorously, but there were moments when he regretted having to bear the heavy burden of his destiny.

Lord Ankan posed as knotty a problem. When he had first entered Mitsukage Castle, Jimmu had expected to act quickly. Since that had proved impossible, he had decided to wait for the perfect opportunity to present itself—or was he simply making excuses for his inaction? Surely, perfect opportunities had to be created?

One evening, as he was meditating in his room, Jimmu heard voices and laughter outside. Curious, he went to his window and peered through the shutters.

Takeko was in the garden near the archery hall, launching paper lanterns in the pool. Lord Ankan stood watching, and beside him was an elderly woman whom Jimmu took to be Lady Murasaki. Takeko giggled with delight as the lanterns glided across the surface of the water, her face as open as a child’s. Lord Ankan was beaming. All his stiff formality had left him, and his eyes were full of affection for his daughter.

Jimmu felt as if he were intruding on a private moment and looked away, aching with emptiness.

Why did my parents never care for me like that? he thought. Why did they leave me to face my fate alone? Was something wrong with me?

He tried to picture Lord Ankan as the fiend he had imagined when he was younger, but all he could see was Nichiren’s face, rising up in his mind like smoke from a fire.

That evening, Jimmu received an unannounced visit from Captain Muraki, who spoke to him in a low, urgent voice.

“Lady Takeko desires to visit the winter fair in Sakura,” he said. “To disguise herself, she’ll dress in plain clothes, like the daughter of a local squire. You will accompany her, as a guard.”

“I am honored, sir,” said Jimmu, “but wouldn’t a more experienced man be better suited to the task?”

Captain Muraki straightened his shoulders.

“Lord Ankan has issued a direct order, and you will obey him,” he said.

“Yes, sir!”