“My dear!” Kagome stumbled back, breaking the light hold upon her arms. The demoness’s outstretched claws returned to her sides. Between them, the silver cup lay spilled and overturned in the grass. Fragments of moonlight glittered upon the brown leaves and blades, melting away before Kagome’s staring eyes. “You saw something,” Sesshoumaru’s mother guessed, the

Warily, Kagome stepped back. “No way am I drinking from that.” The demoness’s eyes glinted, almost reprovingly. “Do you think one such as I would stoop so low as to poison you?” “Maybe,” Kagome said evenly, thinking of her sordid entanglements with Sesshoumaru. “I don’t know what it is about me you’ve heard.” “I don’t

The demoness’s ruby lips curved upward. Skimming red-enameled claws through a silky forelock of her hair, she seemed to glide toward Kagome across the wilted, leaf-strewn shore. Against this backdrop of autumn, Sesshoumaru’s mother was the picture of ethereal beauty and grace. It was often said of Kagome that she was a stately lady, but

Kagome felt worse than wretched about locking Ikiryou away. But she didn’t know what else to do. With the way things were now, she couldn’t very well keep an eye on him every second. Deep down, she blamed herself for his aberrant behavior. She’d known this castle was no place for him, yet she’d kept

“What is it?” Kagome asked, frowning at the strangeness of the request. It wasn’t like the guard captain to barge in on her like this. An orderly man himself, he was unerringly respectful of her schedule. Knowing this, she couldn’t help but feel the beginnings of unease take root in her mind. “It would be

Kagome didn’t sleep much that night, nor the nights that followed. Insomnia was as bad as being drunk, she decided, as she caught herself nodding off once again. Koshirou’s promises to rally and resume his place in court remained merely that—words, and nothing more. While he enjoyed his early retirement, rising from bed to watch

From an overlook of weathered stone, Sesshoumaru gazed out, backlit by the embers of a dying sun. Red light seared along his pale armored form, burnished the needles of the fir tree beside him in points of glowing flame. Against this sweeping backdrop of blazing evergreen, he turned and fixed his gaze upon her. The

Holed up in Koshirou’s study, Kagome dined early and light. Apart from the occasional servant, her only company was the shamisen player Natsuko. Over her slender shoulder, the sleek, dark fall of her pinned hair streamed, more ornamented even than Kagome’s. Natsuko was very beautiful, and very vain. Of her talents most of all. Smoking

The only thing that gave Kagome any true sense of satisfaction was seeing Yahiko. When the maids were finished with her, she went directly to him. In one of the courtyards that served as a training ground, she found him sparring with his peers. He was a robust, healthy boy. As her adopted son, he