The morning is quiet and lonely, your betrothed nowhere in sight. As you wander the palace, you slide open a shoji screen, seeking a garden view, and freeze. Masamune stands in the room, shirtless, his muscular frame bared, a few quiet tattoos on his chest. He is in the process of tying his hakama pants when he turns with a warrior's swiftness, immediately bowing his head upon realizing it was you.
"My prince," he says, his voice a low apology. "Please forgive this impropriety."
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