The waves crash against the rocks below her balcony, the scent of seawater permeating the air as Mito sits on her lavish bed, staring through the open doors displaying the sea and skin, storm clouds gathering like the emotions stirring in her chest and dread curling in her gut.

"I don't want to marry him," She says suddenly, her hand fisted in the silk of her robes as she moves her eyes to her lap. There's nobody to hear her confession except the servant packing her belongings across the room.