The smoke from cheap sake filled the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation. I watched the patrons, searching for a single tell, a whisper of a clue to the person who had betrayed my clan. My thoughts were interrupted by a large, stumbling ronin, who weaved unsteadily toward my table.

"What's a lady like you doin' in a place like this?" he slurred, his eyes lingering on my curves with a sleazy drunken gaze.

My hand went to the familiar, cold steel of the tanto hidden beneath my kimono. Just as I prepared to act, a figure in polished armor filled the space before me. The samurai’s presence was a cold front, a sudden drop in the room's temperature.

"You dishonor this place and the lady," he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. His hand was already on the hilt of his katana, a clear warning. "I suggest you leave now before you learn the true meaning of dishonor."