Sesshoumaru returned to his apartments aglow with pride for the way he impressed his father and his vassals that night. It more than made up for that snafu in the audience chamber. Jaken was waiting for him, still sitting obediently by the sake bottle, which Sesshoumaru noticed was still sealed in fear of his wrath. He smirked. He was terrifying, wasn’t he? That made him think of Umeko and the cringing she did in his presence, and his smirk abruptly faded. After a bit of thought and discussion with Lord Nishi and his vassals, Sesshoumaru had come to the conclusion that her terror had to be an act. According to his father, Umeko had always seemed nervy to him, not the kind of girl to scare easily, though if she was afraid of Sesshoumaru, he’d added with a grim smile, her fear was well-placed.
        "You may have the sake for yourself tonight, Jaken," he told his servant, who looked at him in utter disbelief. "Take it and go before I change my mind."
        "Yes, My Lord!" Jaken jumped to his feet, took the sake bottle in his arms, bowed and scuttled out of the room.
        Sesshoumaru took off his outer kimono, then got his bedding out of its cabinet and spread it on the floor. He extinguished the lamps and lay down, his demon eyes able to see every detail of the wood paneled ceiling in the darkness. He would much rather be looking up at the stars and have the scent of the forest in his nostrils than be cooped up in a den, but his father had ordered him to rest and sent Lord Ryuuko to keep watch in the woods. How could he possibly sleep when his mind was racing, and his claws were begging to tear Umeko's hide for daring to spy on the Great Demon of the Western Lands? But more than rending Umeko’s flesh, he wanted a piece of Lord Yomitora. A really big, bloody piece, and his head on a pike for spawning that damned Shinju woman and daring to hold a grudge against his father. What madman kept alive a vendetta against a Demon Lord? The fool’s ancestors should have just ignored Lady Dokutsume’s raids and lived long lives for looking the other way. What were a few cows compared to their lives? A mortal’s life was short enough without making it shorter by picking a fight with a Great Demon.
        He closed his eyes with a little smile, hoping the mortal fools would attack soon and receive their punishment. It had been too long since he’d enjoyed a real battle and taken trophies of his own. What punishment would be fitting for Umeko, he wondered. Just being clawed wasn’t harsh enough. She should learn to really fear him, not just fake it. What would frighten a girl his father thought had guts? Perhaps she should be made to look at those guts of hers before being allowed to die slowly. Sesshoumaru grinned, liking that idea very much.
        But what if their suspicions about her turned out to be wrong? He shrugged off that thought. She should suffer because of how deeply it would upset Lady Shinju, if for no other reason. He could always claim she was a spy, even if it turned out she wasn’t. Then again, if she wasn’t a spy, then she was just another piece of human fluff that didn’t deserve his notice, much less to be killed by him. He really hoped she was a spy and would slip up where Lord Nishi could see it, then he could tear out her throat in front of his father and his pathetic little mate. It would serve Umeko right for thinking she needn’t fear the Great Demon.
        Thinking such happy thoughts, he drifted off to sleep in spite of himself and dreamed about war.

        The palace of Lord Akira Yomitora was dark and quiet except for the Lord’s chamber. He sat by his window, his hair tossed by the cool Autumn breeze and thought dark thoughts about how the Great Demon of the Western Lands had insulted his clan once again. It had taken the Yomitora and their lands almost fifty years to recover from Lady Dokutsume’s gluttonous ravages. It had been pure luck that she had challenged a demon far stronger than herself and had gotten killed before she could drive the Yomitora to extinction. If only Lord Nishi or his arrogant son were as stupid as Lady Dokutsume, Lord Yomitora’s current problem would solve itself. At least Sesshoumaru was content to ignore the humans in his father’s territory and didn’t feel the need to hunt exclusively among their herds. It seemed Sesshoumaru had a taste for wild game that his mother had never cultivated. Unfortunately, Lord Nishi didn’t ignore the local humans, as his son was wont to do. He couldn’t even do the honorable thing and ask permission to marry the girl before getting her pregnant with his demon whelp. And Shinju just had to get pregnant by that demon, didn’t she? Lord Yomitora sighed. At least it hadn’t been Dokutsume’s boy that she’d fallen for. That would have been unconscionable. He would definitely have made her kill herself if she’d been having an affair with Sesshoumaru.
        He only knew the son of the Great Demon by reputation but that was enough to make him hate the man. Sesshoumaru wasn’t the great wreaker of havoc that his mother had been, but he was quite deadly, if half of what Lord Yomitora’s sources had told him was true. He was an accomplished swordsman, though he reputedly preferred to use his claws, even in his more human form. Like his father, he could become a gigantic demon dog, though only one of Lord Yomitora’s sources had actually seen Sesshoumaru in that form. All other reports described the demon prince as cold, aloof and conceited with expensive tastes, judging by the cut and cloth of his kimono. He was often seen in the company of a human-looking demon Lord with a spear that fired lightning at his enemies, roasting them to a crisp. Lord Jigokuyari, he was called, though that was as much as Lord Yomitora was able to discover about him. He knew the names of Lord Nishi’s other chief vassals and a little more about them than he knew of the young Jigokuyari and didn’t look forward to meeting them on the battlefield, either.
        When fighting demons, one should use demons, not humans, he’d told his vassals after Lord Nishi had taken Shinju away. Now he waited for his emissaries to the Great Demon of the East to return, hopefully with good news. There was a rumor that the Great Demon of the East, Lord Asahi, hated Lord Nishi. That route had possibilities, if the Great Demon would listen to the proposal of a human Lord, rather than simply killing his messengers straight away. If he did, Lord Yomitora feared he would have to abandon his vendetta while he looked elsewhere for demon allies willing to stand up to Lord Nishi. He hoped Lord Nishi would attempt a preemptive strike, so the allies of the Yomitora would see that the Yomitora were the victims and this Great Demon had to be destroyed, if any of them wanted to live in peace again. Sesshoumaru would have to go, too, since he would surely seek to avenge his father. That would leave the child Shinju carried, who might make a nice puppet if it was male and its mother chose to come home to the succor of her family once her husband was dead.
        Lord Yomitora frowned. That scenario was highly unlikely. According to her maidservant, Shinju was genuinely in love with Lord Nishi, so she’d probably remain loyal to him, even after his death. But would Sesshoumaru give her shelter if he should survive the coming battle? Lord Yomitora thought not, unless Lord Nishi ordered his son to care for his mate when he was gone. Whether or not Sesshoumaru obeyed would depend on whether or not the demon version of loyalty and honor was anything like the human one. That, too, Lord Yomitora doubted. A demon was an evil creature, a bringer of chaos and destruction. What honor could a creature like that possibly have?
        Lord Yomitora sighed and left the window in favor of his futon. He’d sent his wife away that night, thinking he wanted to be alone. Now that he faced the prospect of an empty bed, he wasn’t quite as enthusiastic about the idea, so he called a servant to ask the Lady to join him, then lay down to wait. By the time the yawning Lady Yomitora slid beneath the quilt beside him, he was sound asleep.

        Something awoke Sesshoumaru about two hours before dawn. It was just a little sound, like a mouse’s claws on the stone floor, but the scent was definite not mouse. The sound stopped. Sesshoumaru lay still and pretended to sleep while his nose sampled the air to see who it was that dared creep about outside his bedroom at such an hour. Sniff-sniff…human, familiar… A sly smile tweaked the corner of Sesshoumaru’s mouth as he recognized Umeko’s scent. What a stupid girl, he thought. Did she really think he wouldn’t hear or smell her? The door slid back very slowly and carefully. Obviously, she was trying very hard to hide her approach. She was extremely quiet, he thought, quiet enough not to wake a human, but too noisy not to awaken a demon.
        He waited until she had closed the door behind her and was poised next to his futon, then his arm darted out and up with lightening speed to grab the front of her kimono and slam her to the floor. She tried to escape, but he jumped up and pinned her to the ground with his knee in her back. "Looking for me?" He asked her in a dangerous hiss.
        "I—" she stammered, "I got lost! Please forgive me, My Lo—AHHH!"
        Sesshoumaru grabbed a fistful of her hair and used it to jerk her head back painfully. "Do not lie to me, girl! Your Lady is in the other wing of this den. No one comes to this wing but me and my servant. Anyone else needs an invitation, which I don’t recall giving to you, Yomitora spy!"
        Umeko grit her teeth against the pain and stuck to her story. "I swear to you, My Lord, I couldn’t sleep and thought I would take a walk until I felt tired. But when I returned, I became confused—"
        "You had to return through the Great Hall," Sesshoumaru interrupted with another tug on her hair, "there is no other way to access the private quarters. You have been in the Great Hall twice tonight and should know that when facing the throne, your Lady’s apartments are to the left, while mine are to the right. You are obviously lying."
        Umeko sobbed and tried to take the pressure off of her scalp by getting her elbows under her chest, but that only made Sesshoumaru pull harder. "Please, My Lord! You’re hurting me!"
        "That’s the idea," he drawled. "Now tell me the truth before I kill you."
        "If you kill me—"
        "I will tell my father about the pains you took to enter my bedroom without waking me," he finished for her. "You’re intentions will be as plain to Lord Nishi as they are to me."
        She gasped at another tug and told him in a strained voice: "My Lord, I—I came to offer myself to My Lord!"
        Sesshoumaru didn’t believe that story any more than the first one, though it was marginally more appealing. She was pretty for a human and young. It would be humiliating for her to service him, for sure, but the very thought of intimacy with a human made him sick.
        She took his hesitation to mean he was considering her proposition and said in a soft voice: "I am well-trained in the art of pleasing a man, My Lord. I would not disappoint you."
        He replied by throwing her across the room, into the chest where he stored his bedding. "You make me sick! I have no interest in a human whore!" He stalked over to where she cowered and slapped her face, knocking her to the floor once again. "Disgusting bitch!" He pulled her up by her hair and threw her against the chest again.
        She gasped in pain and glared at him with hard eyes and little trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. She wore only her under kimono, and it hung off of one shoulder, giving Sesshoumaru’s keen night vision a view of a snowy breast and pink nipple. Realizing he could see her, Umeko hastened to cover herself again. Her hair hung in a tangled mess about her shoulders and into her face. With a steady hand, she brushed it away.
        Sesshoumaru watched her with a cruel glint in his eyes and a growl rumbling in his chest. So, this was the Umeko his father had described. No more the pale, trembling little girl who had cowered before him twice that night. It would seem her fear had been faked after all. Well, he’d just have to teach her what fear really was, wouldn’t he? He grabbed her kimono and jerked it off of her shoulders. When her arms flew up to cover herself, he snatched her wrists and pulled them away, pinning them over her head, against the chest. "Now, whore, you will learn why the name of Sesshoumaru is feared among the Yomitora." He took both of her wrists in his left hand and flashed the claws of his right hand before her eyes to see if she’d flinch. When she didn’t, he raised his hand to strike and—stopped.
        If he killed her, they’d have no spy among the Yomitora. Sesshoumaru cursed silently. He longed to tear her apart right there and then but he knew she was no good to them dead, and his father would punish him for robbing him of a potentially valuable source of information about his enemy. He held her hard, dark eyes with his cold, golden ones, his arm still raised as if to strike. If he played along with her game, he could lead her to believe he didn’t suspect her and put her off her guard. Perhaps she would come to think she had him in the palm of her hand, which might allow him to observe her activities more closely once they returned her to the Yomitora.
        Sesshoumaru slowly lowered his arm and lightly trailed a claw across her breast, still holding her wrists in his other hand. "So, you came to offer yourself to Sesshoumaru, did you? Why did you think I would be anything but disgusted by you?" The claw trailed across her other breast, then down her belly to the knot of her kimono belt, where it stuck.
        Her eyes dropped and she looked away. "Am I so disgusting to My Lord?"
        "You are human, like your Lady," he replied over a growl and pulled his claw out of the knot. "She disgusts me, as well. Shinju is weak and frail—a painted plaything in my father’s old age. She is nothing but a fragile child."
        Umeko’s jaw tightened. "My Lady is stronger than you think, My Lord."
        He slapped her face, throwing her to the floor. "You dare talk back to Sesshoumaru, whore?! Be silent!"
        Umeko gasped and lay where she’d fallen, wisely holding her tongue.
        "You make me sick," Sesshoumaru growled. He stood up and pulled her to her knees by her hair. "Get out! And be thankful I haven’t taken your life for being so presumptuous!" He threw her in the direction of the door with a curse.
        Umeko slid into the panel with enough force to almost put a hole in the rice paper with her elbow. Keeping her eyes downcast, she pulled her kimono back onto her shoulders and crawled to the door. "Please forgive me, My Lord. I meant no disrespect." Then she slid back the panel, crawled out the door and slid the panel closed behind her.
        Sesshoumaru listened until he could no longer hear her footfalls, then turned and punched the stone wall with a colorful oath.