With the last of her strength, she let the spider take shape from the silver of her ring. The demon swallowed her vision, her thoughts a muddle of blood and fear.

Through it all, she clung to an image of her son. An image of the boy kanako knew would one day be a great man A sense of peace unfurled within her

But everything came with a price.

Kanoko sent the spider toward her broken body. Let death collect its due.

All around the city of Inako, the lurching creatures halted. Collapsed where they stood. They did not move, though they still possessed the faintest of pulses. Soon they began to awaken, their memories lost, and their bodies aching from the pain of their ordeal.

As order began to be restored, the screams of before became cries of gratitude.

Inside the castle grounds—just beyond the moon pavilion—a young girl emerged from a colorless world. Half her face was scarred.

On her chest was the image of a handprint.

Epilogue

Mariko wandered by the burbling stream, her heart content. She’d just attended the city’s celebration honoring their new emperor. A part of her still marveled at the turn of events. That she would feel such joy in her heart to know that Prince Raiden had ascended the Chrysanthemum Throne. It would be a story she told to those around her for years to come. Perhaps even shared with her children one day.

The time she’d been the wife of the emperor.

As she smiled to herself. Raiden would be a great emperor if he remained on this path.

Mariko felt a presence behind her. She turned in place, the silk of her elegant kimono shifting in the afternoon sun.

“Lord Ranmaru.” She smiled brightly. “Our new shōgun.”

Ōkami returned the gesture, but it did not touch his eyes. “You sent for me, my lady.” He bowed.

“I did.”

“It is an honor to be of service to our new empress.”

Mariko laughed. “Let me know when you see her. I hope Raiden finds a strong match. One who tests his patience as much as he tests hers.”

“What?” Confusion marred Ōkami’s brow.

“I am not the empress of Wa, Takeda Ranmaru.”

His eyes narrowed. “What did Raiden—”

“The emperor,” she corrected, “informed me that since our wedding ceremony was interrupted before it was finalized, he had consulted with his advisors. Our marriage never took place.” She grinned. “I am an unwed woman, whose reputation is forever tarnished by his rejection.”

Ōkami stood there. Disbelief flashed across his features. Then suspicion.

“Did you send for me so that I would—”

“No. I’m going to do it,” Mariko interrupted. “Lord Ranmaru, traitor and thief, will you marry a fallen woman with no chance of redemption in the eyes of our court?”

Ōkami laughed before he swept Mariko into his arms. “Yes,” he whispered in her ear. The feeling of warmth as his breath passed over her skin sent a thrill up Mariko’s spine.

“And will you swear never to interfere when I experiment with strange chemicals at all hours of the night?”

“Of course.” Ōkami framed her face between his hands. “Upon who else would I rely for exploding gourds and crystals that burn brighter than flame?”

Mariko smiled up at him, her hands covering his. “And will you be happy if she wishes to do whatever suits her in that moment, even if it causes you fear?”

“I would expect nothing else.” Ōkami pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Ours is a love stronger than fear and deeper than the sea,” he said softly.

Then he kissed her. The touch of his lips ignited something inside her chest. It burned through her with a delicious pain. Made her feel alive as she’d never felt before.

There was music all around her. Mariko listened. Breathed deeply. The water flowing at her feet. A blue sky basking above.

This was what it meant to be truly free. To be herself and no one else.

To be loved as she was.