The Princess turned slowly about to face me, with no change in the quiet composure of her bearing. But as her soft eyes met mine their long lashes drooped and the delicate rose tint of her cheeks deepened to scarlet. She sank to her knees and bowed with exquisite grace.
“The august lord is implored to pardon the rudeness of the hatamotos!” she murmured.
“The tojin implores pardon for intruding upon the privacy of the august lady!” I replied.
She bent forward. “The thong of my lord’s sandal is loose. Permit me to fasten it.”
I stepped back hastily and knelt on one knee to tie the thong myself.
“The request cannot be granted,” I said. “In my land it is etiquette for lords to fasten the sandals of ladies; not the reverse.”
“How contrary to all reason and propriety!” she exclaimed, and she gazed up at me with a look of timid wonderment.
I rose and offered her my hand, momentarily forgetful of etiquette. She sprang up, with a repellent gesture and a sharp little cry: “No! Setsu!”
“He sought to touch my august lady!” hissed a voice behind me.
I wheeled and confronted the younger of Azai’s samurai women, standing very near me, with her hand on the hilt of her dirk. I looked steadily into her angry eyes, and smiled at her through the gloom.