Story:

Night came to the imperial palace dressed in a thousand lanterns, and Kicho came to the royal dinner dressed for war.

She had refused, at first—arms crossed, fan snapping, declaring that she had a headache, that Gion's market had exhausted her, that a wife whose husband had just been offered half the realm and an empress to go with it could hardly be expected to dine cheerfully at that empress's table.

It took Euphy a full incense-stick of gentle siegecraft: Kicho, you must go. Observe. Assess. Know who this Tenno is, what she wants, what her eyes do when she looks at our Nobu-kun. A general does not refuse to scout the battlefield.

At that, Kicho's fan stopped mid-snap. Logic, of course. Reconnaissance. She rose with dignity.

But at the palanquin, she caught her sister's sleeve, and beneath the composure, her voice was small in a way only Euphy ever heard. "Onee-sama... stand with me on this crisis."

Euphy laughed softly and gathered her sister's hands in both of hers.

"Kicho-chan. Listen to me. Nobu-kun would not betray you if the heavens themselves ordered him to—and neither would I. You hold both our hearts. Now put on your war paint and let us go be devastating."