"Now," Nathan said.
He crouched down beside him, bringing his eyes level, Kyōmei resting across his knee with its dark blade catching the fire's dying light.
"You are going to answer my questions."
Sadamasa looked up at him with the last of whatever was holding his expression together — the pride of a man who had ruled his territory without bowing to anyone for thirty years, still present, still working, still refusing to arrange his face into the shape that the situation was demanding.
Nathan reached down and pressed Kyōmei's tip against the center of Sadamasa's chest. Not hard — just present, the point resting there with the patience of something that was in no hurry and had nowhere else to be.
The darkness seeped from the blade and pooled against the skin.
"Your pride or your life," Nathan said. "You can carry your pride into death if that's what you want. The choice is yours and I have no preference."
Sadamasa's eyes went to the blade.
Then back up.
