Pale, soft skin that has never been darkened by a full day of work underneath the sun. Delicate hands free of calluses that form after hours of repetitive labor. Smooth silky hair that could only be achieved by a dedicated servant’s careful care.

A lily.

“Prove it,” Shinsuke’s hand, which had landed on your waist to pull you away from a strayed blade, tugged you closer to his body.

Just moments ago, the cellar you had been trapped in was silent.

One of your rare afternoon strolls into town had led to your subsequent kidnapping. You didn’t know who was responsible for the order—your family was too wealthy and renowned to ever have a shortage of enemies, but whoever it was wished for your death.

“Kill him at midnight,” said the man with a scar.

Shinsuke’s eyes bore into yours.

“Make sure it’s clean and that no one touches him, the client wants a pretty body.”

Sheathing his sword, Shinsuke tilted his head in your direction.

“I can’t kill him earlier?”

“At midnight,” the man with a scar reiterated. “And,” he eyed Shinsuke, face twisting in disgust. “Clean yourself up. You're filthy.”

“Understood.” Shinsuke’s eyes flitted to your cell again.

Pretty.

Retrieving a basin of water, Shinsuke set to cleaning the blood off of himself. The feeling of the cloth, damp with cool water, against his skin in the summer heat was a welcome one, and by the time he was done, the clear water had become a deep red. Drying himself with another towel, he returned to your cell.

Already, several men had broken in.

That won’t do.

Stepping inside the cell, Shinsuke sliced off the arm of the first person who touched you. Then a leg. The other arm was the next to go, followed by the other leg. Blood flowed endlessly from the torso on the floor, screams tearing out of its throat as it tried to writhe around in agony.

Shinsuke’s lips pulled outwards and up.

“You can’t touch this one.” The tip of his blade crept under your chin, lifting your face towards everyone else still in the cellar. “Find someone else to keep you company. He’s mine to kill at midnight.”

The men stared back, terrified for their lives. Then, they began to speak.

“They won’t know.”

“He’s going to die anyway.”

"If we don't leave a mark, it doesn't matter."

Slowly, the carefully controlled tension within the cell grew. Each sentence spoken encouraged the men’s desires until they had convinced themselves that they were to have you no matter what. Turning towards Shinsuke, they drew their swords.

Shinsuke made no move to retaliate. His grip on his sword remained light, and as the men advanced, it seemed that you would be left to their mercy. Your head spun. How could you keep yourself alive? As the sole male heir to the Kobayashi fortune, it was your duty to return home. You glanced towards Shinsuke, meeting his gaze and smile that was fixed onto you. You weren’t oblivious to your own beauty—often receiving praise describing the most expensive courtesan’s face to pale in comparison to yours, perhaps…

“Marry me!”

Shinsuke’s eyes widened in surprise at the shout before narrowing in amusement. Knelt on the floor with such a determined spark in your eyes, you could almost be mistaken for a devoted husband proposing to his wife if you had a ring and unbound hands. A hot flush rushed through Shinsuke’s body when your gaze remained unwavering, and he leaned down to your height—narrowly dodging the blade aimed at his neck.

“Would that make me the wife?” He whispered breathily, cheeks pink with excitement.

A swift thrust of his arm drove his blade deep into the chest of an assailant, causing blood to rain down over him.

“Prove it,” Shinsuke’s hand, which had landed on your waist to pull you away from a strayed blade, tugged you closer to his body.

“That you love me,” he whisked you out of another blade’s path, dying your robes crimson as his sword found its home in another man’s throat.

“With a kiss.”

Ignoring the screams and the pooling blood around his feet, Shinsuke pressed your foreheads together.

“Or was that proposal a lie?”