The number of people in her chambers was ridiculous. Even without the constraint of the fabric wrapped around her waist, Kagome wouldn't have been able to move. When Arisu had offered her a few additional attendants to help prepare for the ceremony, Kagome had assumed the Lady of the West would send her three handmaidens— not ten. It was clear that the Sengoku Era did not have fire safety regulations.

"Don't frown, my lady."

"My lady, please remember your posture."

"You mustn't touch your face, my lady."

Kagome bit back an aggravated groan. This was eerily similar to the morning Touga's envoy arrived. The way the women hovered around her reminded Kagome of bees in the garden. They swarmed in a strangely synchronized dance, applying powder to her face and pulling her hair back so tight that her temples throbbed. The last step of this madness was cocooning her in the shiro-maku.

The ceremonial gown was unlike any other garment she had worn since arriving at the palace. It was not adorned with elaborate embroidery or stained a vibrant color. The floor-length brocade kimono was pure white. The embellishments that were stitched along the outer layer depicted cranes taking flight. The birds symbolized luck, which was something Kagome desperately needed.

She had heard that the shiro-maku was heavy. Many brides who had come to the shrine for their wedding ceremonies had complained about it. Until the full weight of the layered gown was on her shoulders, Kagome hadn't understood what the big deal was. She felt like she was drowning in white silk.

And it would only get worse.

After the ceremony, Yukana and Izumi would drape an uchikake over her gown. Kagome wondered if she should have been training with weights instead of weapons. The latter seemed easier.

"Once we paint your lips, we'll add the finishing touch," Yukana told her.

She glanced up to see Izumi holding a wig and a headdress. "What's that?"

"The final components of your outfit. They are traditional for a bride, no? I was told they signify you taking your place as a compassionate and obedient mate."

Kagome shot out of her chair. "No, absolutely not!" All the handmaidens stared at her, eyes wide. "I am not wearing either of those."

"But my lady—."

"Just put some flowers in my hair or something."

"Lady Kagome, the daimyo will be in attendance today. Out of respect for him and the Taisho clan, you need to honor tradition," Izumi coaxed gently.

"How is this honorable? What about respecting me?" She scoffed and crossed her arms. "I came here because I had to. I'm marrying a stranger to stop a war. Now you're telling me I have to be submissive to him? No. No way. It's not going to happen."

The room fell silent. The handmaidens glanced at one another, clearly at a loss on how to proceed. No one dared to approach Kagome. They remained frozen in place, stuck between her command and the orders they had received from Arisu.

Kagome looked at her hands. If she set the shiro-maku on fire, the handmaidens wouldn't have to worry about the matching headdress. She'd have to wear something else— hopefully, something less restrictive.

A knock sounded at the door. The sudden noise startled a few of the handmaidens.

"Good morning," Izayoi greeted everyone as she strolled into the chamber. She moved as if she was floating on clouds. Her sandals barely touched the floor. As a result, her entrance didn't make a sound. "Oh, Kagome, dear, you look stunning."

"Thank you," Kagome replied, bowing her head. "You do too."

Touga's second wife donned a black kimono with a white obi. Golden koi swam from her sleeves at a downward angle to the bottom hem that rested just above her toes. Her hair was twisted up in an elaborate bun, held in place by a gold comb. She crossed the room to Kagome's side in a few silent strides.

Izayoi was an ideal princess— soft-spoken, poised, beautiful. No matter what time of day, or where Kagome ran into her, Izayoi was always the picture of perfection. There was never a hair out of place on her head or an unkind word spoken from her lips. She was graceful and kind. Izayoi was exactly the type of person the daimyo was expecting to see as the bride.

Even with a dedicated team of handmaidens Kagome didn't look half as put together as she did.

Izayoi's gaze shifted discreetly to Izumi before circling back to Kagome. "You must be nervous. I know I was on my wedding day."

"You were?" Kagome couldn't imagine Izayoi being frazzled. She seemed content no matter what level of chaos surrounded her. Not even Inuyasha's brash temper could cause her smile to waver.

Izayoi took Kagome's hand and patted it gently. "We were married in the late spring. The cherry trees had bloomed and their aroma filled the air. When we planned the ceremony, I thought those details would make it more romantic. Then the day arrived and all I could smell was this sickeningly sweet fragrance. It was overwhelming. I did not eat for fear I would be ill. My handmaidens were convinced I would faint before I made it to Touga's side."

"Did you?" Kagome asked.

"No," Izayoi smiled gently. "The moment I saw him standing there, waiting for me, my senses quieted. It was as if the entire world shifted. I remembered the reason why we decided to get married. That gave me the fortitude to complete the ceremony."

"You love each other," Kagome said.

Izayoi nodded. "Indeed we do. I know that your relationship with Sesshomaru did not begin the same as ours but I know you are equally motivated by love— the love for your people. In time, that love may grow into something more."

Guilt swirled in her stomach. Izayoi acted as though Kagome was a saint but she was nothing more than an imposter. A selfish, lying imposter…

"If you do not wish to wear the headdress, you needn't bother. Today is your wedding. The daimyo may hold political power within the human lands but we are not in his territory, are we?" Izayoi winked.

Kagome grinned, her first real smile since waking that morning. "I always pictured having my hair pinned up with fresh flowers."

"I think that suits you. Natural accents to enhance natural beauty." Izayoi signaled the handmaidens into action.

She held onto Kagome's hand, a tether to ground the young girl as the attendants brought the vision to life.


The day had arrived. For the past several months, Sesshomaru had looked upon the date with contempt. He had never once forsaken his duty. Up until two weeks ago, he had considered this day to be the first time he refused his father.

Then he had met the miko.

Sesshomaru recognized that everything he had done up until now had been in preparation for this ceremony. The battles he had fought to protect his clan, the long nights he had studied ancient scrolls, and the hours he had spent training the miko had all been leading up to this. Today would not be his first failure. It would be his greatest victory.

The salvation of demon-kind was a feat that no other had ever attempted. But Sesshomaru did not intend to merely endeavor to protect his fellow yokai. He planned on succeeding. His efforts would ensure he surpassed his father. He would be revered, honored. His name would become synonymous with power and success. All that he coveted would be his.

Light crested over the eastern wall of his courtyard. The golden rays cascaded over the terra-cotta to reach the edge of his chamber's porch. Sesshomaru stood just beyond its reach, watching the sunrise. He rarely took pause to examine nature. However, a monumental day such as this one warranted extra time.

Centuries from now, Sesshomaru would remember this day as one he both abhorred and treasured. The pageantry of the formal ceremony was an inconvenient obligation, but it was necessary to establish a foundation for his relationship with the miko. Guests from across the country would be in attendance. Sesshomaru would not have to hunt down the most influential clan members. They would seek him out. And once they did, he could work on building an alliance with each of them.

If Sesshomaru wished to inspire their confidence in him, he would require the proper attire. Entering the hall while wearing armor and in possession of his blade would spark controversy. His normal garments were not appropriate for the occasion— a fact his mother had reminded him of over dinner.

Arisu had requested he not stray from tradition. Sesshomaru had assumed she meant the traditions of their family. He should have known better. When the attendant arrived with Sesshomaru's ensemble, he realized his mistake.

The montsuki hanging in his bed chambers was made of fine black silk and embroidered with the Taisho crest. The pants and overcoat were equally well-crafted. He did not take issue with the quality of the garments. Sesshomaru was troubled by his mother's choice to adhere to human traditions rather than yokai. As the heir to the Taisho and Crescent clans, the ceremony should have catered to his preferences, not a human female of unknown origins.

Sesshomaru wondered when the imp would return with news. He had expected Jaken to arrive yesterday, yet there had been no word from his vassal. The delay would have bothered him if not for the additional assignment he had requested of the imp. Jaken's trek to the shrine maiden training temple would require he pass through Raimei Valley. It provided Sesshomaru with the chance to extend a personal invite to the clan leader's eldest son. He would ensure the opportunity was not wasted.

Even if the miko had lied about her background, nothing else she had said to him had been untrue. It was unlikely she was a threat. His gaze fell to the burn on his arm. Unlikely, though not impossible. He would need to keep a close eye on her over the coming weeks. It would be a relatively simple task, considering they were leaving for their tour tomorrow.

Sesshomaru was interested to see how she would fair against the other clans. He doubted they would welcome her as warmly as his father had. Perhaps then she would recognize how valuable his protection was.

You will not know compassion until you have someone to protect.

Sesshomaru frowned. His father's words had been echoing in his mind since the miko's outburst. He had not seen her since their training session. She had been absent from dinner, claiming to 'need ample time to prepare'. No one else considered her excuse unreasonable, but Sesshomaru understood the snub. Considering the stony glare the miko's handmaiden gave him, he suspected she did as well.

One of the miko's greatest strengths was garnering loyalty. It seemed that everyone she came into contact with appreciated her. Sesshomaru initially considered her a novelty that would wear off yet her popularity amongst the attendants and his parents had not dwindled in the slightest. If anything, their fondness for the miko had grown.

He wondered if Kagome was aware of the power she held over others. She appeared as unpracticed in this as she was in archery, though vastly more talented. The only time Sesshomaru saw her be confident was when she was attempting to prove him wrong. The rest of the time, she operated as a typical adolescent female.

Sesshomaru had spent a fortnight studying the miko, her mannerisms, and her abilities. Nothing that he observed brought clarity to the mystery that was his bride. She consistently used informal language but still managed to communicate with a level of intelligence that few had mastered. Physically, she was no better than a newborn pup. Her strength came from within, not solely her reiki but her essence. If Sesshomaru believed in such things, he would define it as her soul. There was something about that part of her— that unyielding, stubborn energy —that he was drawn to.

The risk of intrigue was how steep a slope it was. Unraveling the paradox of the miko could grant him answers. It could also lead him to more questions. There was a fine line between curiosity and interest. Sesshomaru had to be cautious. He could not forget the key term in their agreement: it was temporary.

He had never found the prospect of a partner appealing. Gender did not play a part in his lack of interest. Caring for males could be just as tedious as females, though he knew no one who was quite as troublesome as the miko. Her penchant for foolishness had not wavered since her arrival. Sesshomaru was certain it would continue throughout the tour.

They would need to discuss etiquette. Each clan subscribed to different customs. Sesshomaru did not believe a miko— even one as educated as Kagome —was aware of all the nuisances. Few outside the yokai world were privy to such details. He would need to review each clan's expectations with her during their travels.

He frowned. Having to traverse on horseback was unappealing. Sesshomaru had suggested the more direct method of flight, however, it was impossible for him to carry the miko and their entire entourage. Separating from the guards was too high of a risk. He would bear with the horses.

Just as he would bear with this montsuki.

He stripped out of his garments. Though Sesshomaru disagreed with his mother's approach to the ceremony, he did not have the energy to quarrel with her. Arisu did not listen to reason. What she wanted, she got. No amount of research or clearly articulated points would alter her decision.

Had it not been for the Taisho crest embroidered on the chest, the montsuki would have been stark black. As Sesshomaru lifted the garment, the fabric shimmered. It resembled the evening sky, just before the stars appeared, an expanse of infinite possibilities. His lips twitched. Perhaps his mother had made the appropriate choice.

Sesshomaru dressed by himself. Though his parents had assigned attendants to him and his chambers, he rarely required their services. War had made him self-sufficient and guarded. Sesshomaru preferred keeping to himself. What little he required, he was capable of obtaining. Anything else was either an unnecessary luxury or could be acquired through an allied source.

His thoughts circled back to the miko. He wondered about her opinion on the ceremonial dress. She had been indifferent to the process. It was quite unusual for a female, though he suspected Kagome would behave differently if betrothed to someone she cared for.

He scowled. Sesshomaru considered reminding the miko that she would have to wait until their arrangement was complete to entertain any suitors. He would not compromise their objective for a sentiment as fleeting as romance.

A knock came from the main chamber door. "Lord Sesshomaru?"

"I will be there momentarily," he called out to the attendant.

It had been centuries since his parents had sent someone to check on him. Sesshomaru had still been a pup. He did not dwell on that thought.

Slipped on his socks and sandals, he finished dressing. The shoes offered little in the way of support and even less in terms of protection. He would be grateful to get rid of them when the ceremony was over. His boots were a more practical option. They would be essential for traveling.

As would his blade.

Though their yokai hosts were allies of the Taisho clan, the human leaders on the tour route were an unknown risk. He doubted they would harm the miko. The same could not be said for himself. Sesshomaru would be exceptionally cautious throughout his time in the daimyo's lands.

He exited his bed chambers and slid open the main suite door. Three figures awaited him. The first was a nervous attendant who kept wringing his hands. The other two were familiar faces.

"Many blessings to you on this, the day of your wedding, Lord Sesshomaru."

"Kujaku, Seiten." He acknowledged the pair with a nod and ignored the twittering attendant. "I did not realize I warranted an escort from my father's private guard."

"Lord Touga and the rest of the clan are greeting the guests. Once you and Lady Kagome are ready to enter the hall, they will be seated," the attendant explained.

"Then I suppose we should leave," Sesshomaru said. "I do not wish to keep my bride waiting."


Walking from her room to the hall took twice as long as normal. Being confined in the shiro-maku meant bearing its weight and shortening her stride. Kagome watched as her sandals slid along the hardwood floors, praying to every deity she knew by name that she didn't fall.

Her heart thundered in her ears. It was defeating enough to block out the handmaidens who were ranking the most attractive attendees. They had already worked their way through the northern and eastern wolf packs and the pather tribe. Kagome had tuned them out when they asked her if she would have preferred someone like the eastern wolf prince. Apparently, they shared the same rare eye color. Yukana thought their pups would be adorable.

Kagome didn't want to think about a long-term future here. She wanted to go home. Kaede still hadn't written her and Kagome doubted the girl would be among the attendees in the hall. Kaede's silence worried her but not as much as making it to the hall without tripping.

And actually going through with the ceremony.

The more she thought about it, the worse her nerves became. Today was her wedding day. She was getting married and no one from her family was here. Kagome was alone. Her eyes brimmed with tears. It had been her idea, but she hadn't expected to feel this way. Kagome thought she'd be able to walk down the aisle with Sesshomaru, take the priest's blessing, and play her part. Because that's all this was. The betrothal, the wedding, their marriage— it was all a ploy to change the future.

Yet as Kagome rounded the corner to enter the hall, she couldn't help but think she'd gone too far. Helping others was the right thing to do. She knew that. Kagome also knew that if she ever did return to Tokyo, and met someone, their wedding would be overshadowed by today. She'd have to lie the same way she was lying now.

Sparks of reiki ignited from her fingertips. Kagome rubbed her hands together to hide them. When she had fantasized about setting the garment on fire, she hadn't intended to be in it. She flexed her fingers in an attempt to brush her growing anxiety away. You've got this. There's no reason to be nervous. It's a sham wedding. It doesn't count, Kagome told herself. It's not real. It's not real. It's not—

Her eyes widened. For a split second, there was silence. The only thing Kagome heard was a quiet whisper saying, But you wish it was. She blinked, startled by the thought and the vision before her.

Sesshomaru was waiting outside the hall. The moment hung, serving as both a blessing and a curse, as Kagome took him in.

His silver tresses were pulled back at the nape of his neck, revealing the diagonal magenta stripes along his cheeks. He had been fitted with an onyx montsuki. It was customary for the hakama to be striped, blending the upper half's main color with the white accents. Kagome wasn't sure what the contrasting colors symbolized. Gramps had probably told her the history behind the garments yet she couldn't remember. Her thoughts were centered on the daiyokai standing before her.

Kagome hadn't expected him to wear the traditional ensemble. Seeing him dressed as a groom— her groom —had her pulse fluttering for reasons she didn't want to name or confront. If she put a name to them, they would become solid and real. The one thing worse than lying was believing the lie.

"Kagome."

He spoke her name with such reverence that she almost missed his reaction to seeing her. The momentary astonishment lifted his brows and had his lips parting, but it vanished just as quickly. His stoic expression returned.

Kagome exhaled with a smile. A change of clothes did not change a person or their intentions. Sesshomaru was still Sesshomaru. He was here for the same reason she was. Oddly enough, it was that bit of normalcy Kagome found comfort in. With him, there was no pretense. He knew the truth. She could be herself.

Sesshomaru indicated the floral arrangement atop her head. "Your hair?"

"I didn't want to wear the wig or the hood," she answered.

"Their purpose has no place in this union," Sesshomaru responded. "You and I are not servants to each other. We are leaders. If we are not able to govern ourselves freely, how can we be expected to govern those under our care?"

"Exactly," Kagome agreed, though she only heard half of what he had said. Her handmaidens were adjusting her grown and inspecting her face one final time before the hall doors were opened. It was difficult to concentrate with them milling around.

"Leave us," Sesshomaru ordered.

"But, Lord Sesshomaru, what about Lady Kagome's kimono? She requires assistance to prevent her from tripping," Izumi reminded him.

His eyes narrowed. "Are you suggesting that I will allow my bride to fall?"

"N-No, my lord."

"Go. I will attend to her needs."

The handmaidens stared at him with the same stunned faces they had worn in Kagome's chambers.

Izumi recovered first. "As you wish, Lord Sesshomaru." She bowed and then the group dispersed.

As soon as they turned the corner, Kagome giggled.

"What amuses you?" Sesshomaru inquired.

"You. Me. This," she gestured between them.

His head tilted as he studied her.

"It's just that earlier I had a similar outburst and they acted the exact same way."

"I do not have outbursts," he retorted.

Kagome rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. What do you call that?"

"Setting clear expectations with the staff."

She laughed again. "If you say so, Lord Sesshomaru."

Kagome failed to notice the uncharacteristic flush of his skin. In the absence of the handmaidens, she realized this was the first time Sesshomaru and her had been alone since the evening they had struck their agreement. Even when they were training, they weren't truly alone. A-Un was always present. Back then, she had been uncomfortable. She didn't know how to read him and considered him a selfish jerk. Things had changed over the last two weeks. Despite their argument, seeing him today had calmed her. He reminded her that she wasn't alone. She had a partner.

"Sesshomaru, about yesterday— ."

"You need not apologize, miko."

"I know you were trying to help."

"I should have recognized you were doing the same," he returned.

"Has your arm healed?"

There was a pause before he nodded.

Kagome exhaled with relief. "Good. Because if it hadn't, I was going to postpone the ceremony until you saw the healer."

"You will do no such thing."

She smiled. Times like this made her wonder why she'd ever been scared of him. Sesshomaru was more predictable than he realized, especially when it came to matters of pride.

"Are you nervous?" Kagome asked, staring at the double doors in front of them.

"No. You?"

"Maybe a little," she admitted.

"This is no different than our sparring activities. If you consider every attendee in that room as an opponent, you can strategize a way to ensure you come out on top," he advised.

She arched a brow. "Does that include you?"

"Do you count me among your enemies, miko?"

"Not at all. Actually, I think we've grown close enough that I consider you my friend."

He stared at her for an intense moment. Then he blinked and regained his composure. Sesshomaru extended his hand to her. "Shall we?"

"Let's do this."

The doors to the hall opened and, together, they moved forward.


Note: This chapter was delayed for some RL things that needed my attention. I appreciate everyone who reached out, asking if I was okay. It was a huge comfort to me. Thank you.