“That is right, for your honorable sword is not sufficiently sharp, my father.”
“Thou speakest darkly, my daughter.”
“I have thought darkly of our wrongs, my father. I have found a more refined revenge to inflict upon this prince, one which would wound him more deeply than the death of one of his eight sons.”
“Well, and what is your revenge?”
“First answer me this: What would be the feelings of this proud and arrogant prince if his idolized heir were to be guilty of that very fault for which he exiled his samurai?”
“What fault?”
“The fault of marrying into a degraded and outcast class.”
The samurai started. Then a strange smile flitted across his thin face.
“His pride would fall. Such a calamity would crush—bend—kill him!”
“True. Then if his pride is such, let us strike at it before his heart. I think I see a way by which this can be accomplished.”