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She was bathed and dressed in the finest silks and satins, clothed in bright colours, doused in floral perfume, and given twelve servants to attend to her every need. In the House of Miyagawa she was a well respected guest.
No, she amended as one of her attendants pulled a comb of bone through her hair, I've been dressed like a porcelain doll and given twelve prison guards. I am a prisoner of the Lord Miyagawa.
They were always watching her every move in what was (in her opinion) poorly disguised surveillance. When she painted, they were watching; when she visited the gardens, they were watching; no matter what she did, always were they watching.
It irked her to no end.
She was stolen from the closest thing she had to a home in these lands and forcefully transformed into a plaything of the noble court. She could not even choose what she would paint. She was only allowed to paint what the lord willed her to.
The young, spoiled, arrogant and egotistic heir!
It was infuriating.
She felt sullied and slighted against.
She was being forced to become someone she wasn't.
"Befitting a noble lady," said the man who brought her here upon seeing her transformation.
She wanted to slap him.
His name was Kidomaru.
And she hated him for causing her this strife.
(Or so she thought.)
She could hate him no longer after hearing his tale of woe. Instead, she saw him only with pity in her dual coloured eyes.
Upon arriving to the Miyagawa estate which sat majestically beside a long winding river, between a field and a forest, she learned of Kidomaru's tragedy. Once the grandson to the former feudal lord, he was now the servant of the present one. His father was stripped of his noble title upon offending the emperor in his court by an act of disobedience.
He was without choice. She considered regarding why she was brought to this place. The current feudal lord commanded him and he had no choice to obey or else be disgraced further.
All Kidomaru could do to try and regain his family's lost honour was to be obedient.
She pitied him for not understanding that a man cannot find his honour by kneeling at the feet of another man.
Hana was jostled from her thoughts as the lord himself approached, followed closely behind by his entourage and guards.
"Miyagawa-sama." She murmured, bowing. "What brings you to this lowly artist's studio?"
