Chapter 10: The Princess

Kyoto - Two Days Later

Kiku entered Kyoto disguised as a low-ranking samurai’s widow.

She’d stolen the clothes from a merchant’s daughter in a village outside the city—simple but respectable. A dark kimono with muted patterns, hair bound up in a modest style, her swords hidden beneath a travel cloak. She carried false papers identifying her as a woman seeking employment in one of the noble households, recently widowed, looking to start over in the capital.

The guards at the city gate barely glanced at her. Just another face among hundreds entering Kyoto each day.

Once inside, Kiku found a small room at an inn on the edge of the merchant district. Cheap, anonymous, the kind of place where the innkeeper asked no questions as long as the rent was paid.

She spent the first day simply watching. Learning the city’s rhythms. Identifying where the wealthy lived, where the samurai class gathered, where the palace district began.

She needed to find Sato. But approaching him directly would be suicide—a wanted criminal walking up to a Shogunate-connected broker? She’d be dead before she got within ten feet of him.

No. She needed a different approach.

She needed access to the circles where Sato operated. Needed to become someone who could move through Kyoto’s upper society without drawing suspicion.

And that meant finding someone to use.

On her third day in Kyoto, Kiku went to the market district.

It was massive—stalls selling everything from silk to spices, from weapons to pottery. Merchants shouted their wares. Servants haggled over prices. And moving through it all, occasionally, were members of the nobility.

Kiku positioned herself near a silk merchant’s stall and waited.

She’d learned that wealthy women often came to this particular merchant—his silk was imported from China, expensive, exclusive. The kind of thing only the very rich could afford.

And if she was patient—

There.

A palanquin entered the market district, carried by four servants and flanked by two guards. It stopped near the silk merchant’s stall.

A young woman stepped out, and Kiku’s breath caught.

She was beautiful. Genuinely beautiful, not just wealthy-and-therefore-attractive. Maybe seventeen or eighteen, with intelligent eyes and a face that suggested both strength and sadness. She wore layers of silk in shades of blue and white, her hair arranged in an elaborate style that probably took her servants an hour to create.

And Kiku recognized her.

Not personally. But from years ago, when her father had brought her to Kyoto for formal occasions. Court functions. Political gatherings.

This was Minamoto Hatsu. Daughter of Shogun Minamoto Katsuya.

The Shogun’s daughter.

Kiku’s mind raced, calculating possibilities.

If Sato was connected to the Shogunate, if his lord was someone in the palace, then the Shogun’s own daughter would know things. Would have access. Would be able to move through those circles freely.