As he and two other guards escorted Reiko into the palace, her heart pounded with fear. Inside, they climbed a staircase to a chamber that stank of the Dragon King’s incense. The fear settled like a cold, hard weight in her stomach. She glimpsed doors open to a balcony overlooking the lake, before a partition slid aside with a loud, grinding creak. From the adjacent room stepped the Dragon King.

Today he wore a plain gray silk kimono over black trousers. His unblinking stare fixed on Reiko. He paused at the threshold, then moved toward her with his odd, hesitant swagger. Madness and desire smoldered in his eyes.

The icy weight in Reiko’s stomach grew heavier, and her legs trembled. Now would begin her ordeal of compromising herself to win the Dragon King’s trust. Although she felt woefully unprepared, despite hours spent scheming, she must maneuver him toward liberating her and her friends.

“Good day, Anemone,” he said in a hushed voice that reeked of intimacy.

Reiko imagined a black abyss yawning at her feet. With a sense of futility, she stepped over the edge. She felt her spirit plunge into depths from which it might never rise.

“Good day, my lord,” she said, imitating his tone. She donned a semblance of an enchanting smile; she forced her eyes to shine at the Dragon King. Stifling hatred, she dropped to her knees and bowed low in the hope that submissiveness would disarm him.

He moved near to her, cloaking her in his suffocating aura of incense. When she raised her head, Reiko saw his loins positioned very near her face. She almost flung herself backward, against the guards who stood behind her. Instead, she held her breath and gazed at his swords, and the rampant dragon embroidered in lighter gray thread on his robe.

“Leave us,” the Dragon King told the guards.

Reiko glanced around and saw Ota pause on his way out the door. He gave her a warning look. Whether or not her humble pose had convinced his master, Ota clearly suspected her motives. Reiko knew that he and the other guards wouldn’t be far away. She also knew that she couldn’t hope to defeat the Dragon King unless she figured his men into her plans.

The Dragon King upturned his hand, the long fingers extended toward Reiko. Unwillingly she laid her hand on his and let him raise her upright. They stood close like lovers, their bodies touching through the thin layers of garments that separated them.

“Did I send you enough food and bedding yesterday?” he said. “Did my men clean your quarters to your satisfaction?”

His breath on her scalp felt as hot to Reiko as fire from a dragon’s nostrils. Taking her cue from him, she said, “Yes. A million thanks. You have been most kind. My friends and I are beholden to you.” She almost whimpered with distress brought on by her worst fears.

When the Dragon King had his way with her, her life would be ruined even if she survived. She would have broken her wedding pledge to be faithful to Sano, even though against her wishes. How could she return to him, defiled by another man?

No matter if she explained that she’d cooperated with the Dragon King and sacrificed herself to save her friends, she couldn’t expect Sano to forgive her. No matter how understanding he was or how unconventional their marriage, Sano was a man, and men were possessive, jealous. A part of him would suspect that she’d welcomed and enjoyed the Dragon King’s attentions. He would wonder whether she could have avoided them-had she chosen. His doubts about her fidelity to him would erode his trust, and their marriage. He might even divorce her. She would lose not only Sano but her son, and be cast off to live in disgrace, on her family’s charity.

“Ota-san says you have something to ask of me,” said the Dragon King. “But first, let us make ourselves comfortable.” They knelt facing the balcony, his hand still holding hers, his presence immovable at her side. “Let us cherish this time that fate has bestowed on us.”

A voice inside Reiko’s mind whispered that whatever happened between her and the Dragon King, she didn’t have to tell Sano. Maybe no one else would, either. Sano need never know. But Reiko would know. The secret would fester like a disease inside her spirit. And what if the Dragon King impregnated her? Reiko imagined carrying the child, hoping desperately that it was Sano’s, then watching it grow up and seeing the dreaded resemblance to her kidnapper. The child would be son or daughter to Sano, brother or sister to Masahiro, yet always a reminder of Reiko’s defilement.

“Last night I dreamed we were at home,” the Dragon King said. “It was spring, and the cherry trees were blooming outside. You were teaching me calligraphy, as you used to do. You put your arm around me and clasped your hand around mine, helping me guide the brush.”

His lips curved in a private, nostalgic smile. He contemplated the lake, as if he saw the scene from his dream mirrored in its choppy, steel-colored waters. “You caressed my loins, while your hair tumbled over my shoulders and your bosom pressed against me. We laughed together.”

Reiko cringed at the image of him and a woman who resembled her engaged in erotic play. She gazed at the fog billowing over the distant mountains and wished herself far beyond them.

“When I awake from such dreams, I usually suffer terrible disappointment that you are gone and I am alone,” the Dragon King said. “But now you have been restored to me in a way I never expected.” He mused, “When I kidnapped the shogun’s mother, I only took you along because you were with her, and obviously a high-ranking person who might be useful to my plans. Not until I got a closer look at you did I discover that you are the image of my beloved Anemone. And not until yesterday, when we first spoke, did I realize that you are possessed by her spirit.”

Reiko didn’t know whether to be glad or sorry that he could distinguish her from the real Anemone. It might spare her the violent rage he’d expressed toward Anemone, but also lessen her influence over him. She was glad that stealing her wasn’t his reason for kidnapping the women and slaying their entourage, but horrified that her present peril was but an accident of fate. If only she’d refused to go on the trip! Better she should have faced punishment from Lady Keisho-in than disgrace and torture at the hands of the Dragon King. Yet there was no use wishing to go back in time and alter the future.

The Dragon King was watching her, awaiting a response. Hastily she improvised, “Last night I hardly slept at all. My mind was filled with thoughts of you. I kept remembering your touch, and your look, and the rapture of your nearness.”

Her words derived from vague memories of love poems she’d read; her fluttering eyelids and husky, breathless voice imitated the actors in romantic Kabuki plays she’d seen. The Dragon King stared at her; his breathing quickened, his tongue moistened his lips, and palpable waves of hot arousal emanated from him. Reiko’s insides churned with revulsion and fear as she wended closer to danger, but she clasped her free hand to her bosom, as if truly enraptured.

“I longed to see you. I prayed we would soon meet again,” she whispered. “How thankful I am that my prayers were answered, and we are reunited.”

The Dragon King caressed her cheek. “Your death parted us twelve long years ago. But even before then, we were divided. That man-whose very name I despise-came between us.” Anger welled in the fiery gaze that devoured Reiko. The Dragon King’s hand tightened painfully around hers. “He wasn’t worthy of you, Anemone. He was a cruel, selfish cad who was only toying with you. How could you take him as your lover? How could you forsake me?”

Reiko wondered who this man could be, and what he might have to do with the kidnapping. “I never loved him,” she said, because this seemed the best way to avoid the Dragon King’s savagery. “You’re the only one who matters to me.”