"HAIL THE DAIMYO!" The men greeted, raising their wine bottles high as they entered, having quite evidently found more than enough to supply them.


The entirety of the lower floor was filled with them, here and there, though most gathered in the throne room. The body of Imagawa had now been removed, and the blood had been wiped up. In fact, Gengyo did not recall spotting a single corpse as he walked in here, aside from the thousands present in the market place.


"What"s all this then?" He questioned, sauntering in with the rest behind.


"Ehh, I don"t know boss, we kind of just found them hiding in one of the rooms, and then they came in here and started cleaning…" One of the men pulled a bottle of wine away from his lips just long enough to attempt to explain the sudden state of cleanness.


"Who?" Gengyo asked with his frown, not seeing anyone knew amongst his men.


"My Lord!" A man exclaimed dramatically, throwing himself at Gengyo"s feet, prostrating himself entirely. "Please spare this wretch"s humble life – I am but a servant. I only do as I am told to do. I never held any loyalty towards Imagawa!"


He was joined a moment later by more servants, both men and women alike, who seemed to spring out of nowhere, to cast themselves at his feet, apologising profusely and begging for him to spare their lives.


Gengyo stared back at them, surprised, turning back to his own people with a bemused look on his face, before holding his hand up. "Quiet. And stop doing that." He ordered, as they chanted like a group of demonic spirits, theirs arms flailing like wet noodles, as they went up and down, lathering him in false praise.


The look on their faces was heart wrenching. They did as they were told, and went quiet, but that did not stop the tears. They a.s.sumed that with his dismal of their efforts, then the only thing waiting for them must be death.


"I"ll be honest: I don"t care. Stay if you want, and do what you normally might. Leave if you wish."


His quick dismal of their dramatisms provoked a loud laughter from the men who beheld their pathetic attempts. He stepped past them, and in that moment, he cast them entirely from his mind, focusing himself on his men, and what they were shouting out to him.


"My Lord…" A female"s voice came from behind him, and a delicate hand worked its way to his shoulder.


"What?" He questioned with irritation, having to turn and look back towards the questioner. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing!?" He roared, freeing himself from her grip, as he shot a few steps back, beholding a woman fully nude and blus.h.i.+ng.


"This is what we would normally be doing… I a.s.sumed… Is this not what my Lord wants?"


"Dress yourself immediately, you"re going to get me killed!" He barked, seeing the stone face of Akiko behind her, already shooting daggers.


"Oh dear." She stated in a cold and monotonous voice. "How terrible it is that Tadakata died so young."


"He was a good man." Rin agreed mournfully.


"Why are you talking about me as though I"m already dead..?" He murmured his question, feeling a chill in the air. It seemed his little sister would side with his wife in this problem, and ensure his end.


He let out a deep sigh, seeing the servants still looking towards him, confused. Without convincing orders, it seemed as though they did not know what to do. "Fine. You can stay on as servants in this castle if you wish. For now, you will receive the same pay as you did in the past – we will re-evaluate it to see if its fair in the future. As I said, you can also leave if you wish. I do not expect much. Keep the place clean, and have food made when it is asked for. I am not interested in your more… intimate services. Do you understand?"


"As your say, my Lord! We will ensure not a speck of dust remains, on pain of execution!" A man – who seemed as though he might be in charge – exclaimed pa.s.sionately, b.u.mping his fist.


"Okay, no. No one"s getting executed if there is something is not yet cleaned. Nor am I going to demand that you take your own life if the fish is slightly under cooked. If you wish to clean tonight, then you can. Or sleep if you wish. Do what you want – only the result matters." He paused a moment, sighing once more, almost unable to believe that he had needed to say such things. Imagawa"s tyranny had ran to the point of idiocy. "You." He pointed to the servant who had just spoken.


"Yes, my Lord?" He asked with vigour, bowing low.


"Tomorrow, sometime around noon, find me, and I will have you show me around this place. For now, you all may go. We are in the midst of our celebrations, and do not wish to be discussing business."


"Yes, my Lord!" They repeated in unison, bowing low, before leaving.


Gengyo saw Rokkaku begin to open his mouth, and he stopped him before he even said it. "Please don"t say it."


"What? I was just going to say, it"s a waste. Such fine beauties. Why didn"t you give them to me? I deserve it, don"t I? After all I"ve done for you?"


"That"s why I didn"t want you to say it. Get yourself a normal woman, Rokkaku. Not some wooden statue who would do exactly as you want whenever you want."


"Here, Miura, seems like you need this." Matsudaira patted him on his shoulder, and handed him a bottle of wine with a smile on his face. He could see how irritated Gengyo became having to undo such irrationality. He understood his feelings entirely, but more than that, he was glad. Glad that he was alive to see the day that these whipped dogs – that most men called servants – were given some room to move, and the opportunity to serve under a more mild master.


Gengyo deserved everything that he had received, Matsudaira was convinced. He cared not for the conveniences of having servants. He was contented with little, in regards to wealth at least. And so, he was not disappointed. With that small change alone, Mikawa might just become a more prosperous place, with its single biggest consumer – that ate through all the tax money – being removed.


"Thanks." He intoned, taking a big swig. "Ah, now that"s d.a.m.ned good wine. Is this what all the men are drinking?"


"Yes boss! Try this one as well – it"s even better. There"s a cellar downstairs, and there"s crates and crates of it. We could drink for weeks, and still never get through it!" One of the men overheard his question, and came up to hand him another.


"Is that right?" He mused, grabbing hold of the new bottle, and handing the old back to Matsudaira before taking a swig. "Wow… that"s a flavour. Good man. Get yourself as much as you want. Drink until you can"t move. Tell the others too. This is your night. Celebrate the glory that you have achieved."


"HEAR THAT FELLAS? THE DAIMYO OF MIKAWA ORDERS THAT WE DRINK UNTIL WE DROP, SO I GUESS WE"LL HAVE TO!" The man shouted with a grin, holding his bottle up high, knowing that they had been gifted with treasures. Treasures that likely no other man in j.a.pan would be willing to give up merely as party booze, after knowing its worth. He was a different sort – they had all come to know that.


"Can I..?" Morohira asked in a quiet voice, like that of a school child asking his mother"s permission.


"Drink as much as you like, my dear." f.u.ku exclaimed, kissing him on the lips. That was all it took to fire Morohira up, and he charged through the rabble, before returning with two bottles of wine for him and his beloved wife. "I"m so proud of you. So proud of all of you." She whispered, as he held her in his embrace.


Akiko watched them, so deeply in love, with a light smile on her lips, wis.h.i.+ng to find her own husband. But when her eyes managed to separate him from the crowd, she saw him and Matsudaira, arm in arm, drinking at a frightening speed. "I wonder how much I have to get drunk?" He asked, a little too loudly, the red liquid running from his mouth.


"Huh..? I thought you were… already… d? Droom? Drunk!" Matsudaira slurred, finally finding the right word.


"I see it too, Akiko. Don"t worry – you"ll have him all to yourself tonight." Rin a.s.sured her, feeling as regretful as she that she did not have a man to share in the company of, on a night as joyous as this.

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