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Aderyn watched the man who had been such a mystery before leave. The guard was Hikita! Lord Sanematsu! She had spied on him these past nights. Sachi said he would leave at late morning of the third day. Why did he leave now, long before midnight? Could something have gone wrong with him and Tsuta? Dare she hope?

The long osode, the outer robe of the same lavender uchiki she had worn the night Sanematsu spoke with her alone in his sleeping chamber, unfolded as she stood. Aderyn liked the traditional costume most at night, after bath and before bed, the only time she could handle the sensation of feeling feminine.

Immediately, Aderyn's spirits rose. She was ebullient, her heart pounded wildly between her breasts, her breath was short, and her face was hot and flushed. Not stopping to think whether it was a good time or not, she hurried to catch up with Sanematsu.

"Lord Sanematsu?" Aderyn called when near enough for him to hear without rudely screaming. "Is everything all right?"

"Ko-tori." Sanematsu turned abruptly, seeming, only for a moment, to smile. "You are awake late."

"I was retiring when I saw all the people." She pointed to Tsuta's room. The group thinned and returned to their beds. His disheveled garment did not cover his upper body and threatened to slip off his broad shoulders. He was trying to slow his rapid breaths. "Are you well?" Her words brought him out of his consideration.

"No. Everything is quite well," Sanematsu replied. A churning began in his loins. His heart increased its rhythm. Now was not the best time to be with Tori. He was too vulnerable. "You should retire."

"I was just going. Good night, Yoshihide-sama." Aderyn turned to leave.

Still enticed by her, Sanematsu watched Tori. When his friend had called to him and he had first seen her in the moonlight, Tori’s osode, worn without an underskirt this late at night, pulled apart at the bust to reveal the deep cleavage and the soft upper curves of her breasts. Now as she walked away in seemingly slow motion, he could not break away. Her hair, piled on top of her head in no true fashion, left the smooth skin of her nape exposed to all. His eyes fell to her neck.

Sanematsu felt as he had when Master Wada struck him in the pit of his stomach with the hilt of his sword during martial practice. At the cove, he had been affected by her sensual naked curves, but not to the degree the small patch of skin ordinarily hidden with hair or silk by chaste women, affected him at this moment. Tori could not consciously do or appear anymore erotic than she did innocently in the moonlight. Sanematsu stared as awkward as a teenager as a rush of heat filled his Jade Root, until she absentmindedly unpinned her hair.

As she walked away and the cascade of tresses fell to her thighs to curtain off his view of her nape, Sanematsu found he could breathe freely, ashamed of himself and his episode of voyeurism. Embarrassed by his physical reaction and afraid of what it all meant, he rushed to his own quarters.

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