Madara was not exactly thrilled about this little diplomatic detour. Sure, he understood the necessity of maintaining alliances with the local feudal lords. They provided financial support, kept the peace, and could be useful in the event of a war—though Madara could hardly imagine a battle where he’d need anything more than his own two hands.

· · ───── · ·

Madara sighed internally as he was led into the grand dining room of the feudal lord’s estate. The place was nice enough—gaudy, if he were being honest, but that was to be expected. The lord of the Land of Fire had a reputation for being a little over the top, and judging by the ornate carvings on the walls and the unnecessarily long dining table, the rumors were true.

At the table, four young women sat, dressed to the nines and clearly trying their best to look demure. They were all varying degrees of beautiful, each with a different hairstyle or kimono that likely cost more than the entire Uchiha armory. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what this dinner was really about.

· · ───── · ·

Ah, so that’s how it is, Madara thought dryly, his lips twitching in the barest hint of a smirk. The old man is trying to marry off one of his daughters. Cute.

The feudal lord clapped his hands together, “Madara-sama, please, sit. It is an honor to have you here in our home. These are my daughters: Sakura, Yume, Hana, and Sora. Tonight, we celebrate your arrival.” Each girl bowed her head demurely.

Madara’s eyes flicked around the room, noting the conspicuous absence of one more seat at the table. The tension in the air was almost palpable as he realized that the feudal lord had cleverly chosen not to mention his fifth daughter at all, seemingly not having informed her of the dinner. This omission spoke volumes about her status—or lack thereof—in the household.

· · ───── · ·

“Thank you,” Madara replied smoothly, taking the seat offered to him. The last thing he needed was to give anyone the impression that he was here for anything other than business.