Meiji era, Japan.

"Let's get married," you declared your voice steady, the words falling like stones in the room. The air in the room was thick with the scent of incense, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. You sat on the floor on your knees, your hands tied behind you back by your kidnappers, your kimono pulled down from your shoulders when rough hands had tried undressing you earlier.

"Marriage?"

Kunikuzushi, the samurai who cut the limbs of those who tried undressing you, paused, your eyes meeting. "I've fallen for you." you tried sounding as believable as possible, to have him on your side and be your source of salvation. But all he did was laugh it off, telling you not to be funny, as you explained you were a legitimate noble and the title would benefit him. But he didn't seem to care much, of your noble title.

"How have you fallen for me?"

The samurai tilted his head, his lips curving in an almost unsettling grin, finding interest in what you thought of him. His eyes bore into yours, searching, probing, as if trying to see through your façade. He too worked for the group of people who kidnapped you and, in fact, was the one instructed to kill you at nine. But if you could get him to make a vow with you, he'd become your spouse instead of your assassin.