GhostWalkers 10 - Samurai Game

so I’m just going to get right to the point. I would like your permission to marry Azami. I know I’m not much to look at and I’m in a high-risk job, but we’re … we …
fit.
I’ll make her happy. I know I will.”
    “Her happiness is not of paramount importance,” Daiki said. “Her safety is our first priority. Azami would throw herself in front of a bullet for the ones she loves.”
    Sam heard the dark warning in Azami’s brother’s voice. Daiki Yoshiie was definitely a man of confidence. He talked with great intelligence, his voice cultured and smooth, yet he moved like the whisper of the wind. The man would hold his own in any fight—if you ever saw him. Their father had trained them in the way of the samurai and it had become their way of life. They chose to put the principles into business, but nevertheless, they could use them just as easily if needed to defend themselves.
    “As would I,” Sam said. He didn’t know what else to say. Daiki told him the truth about Azami and Sam knew it was true. There would be no stopping what he knew was central to her character any more than they could stop the need to protect those he loved in him. He was certain that simple statement was a test to see his reaction. Azami was Azami and there was no changing her, nor would he want to do so.
    “She is her own woman. I will protect her with my life and love and value her for all my days.” He felt silly saying the truth aloud to strangers even if the men were Azami’s brothers.
    Daiki studied his face for a long time before he steppedforward and opened his palm. “This ring was made by our father for the man who would see beyond the past and bring her happiness. You are her choice.”
    The ring was small, delicate like Azami, but intricate, just as her personality was. The blossom of a thistle nestled in the middle, surrounded by thorns. Along the band was etched a detailed samurai sword. The work had been done by a master craftsman. Sam stared down at that tiny symbol of a man’s commitment to a woman and knew that the artist had been equally gifted and detailed when it came to making weapons.
    “I would have liked to have met your father,” he murmured.
    Daiki bowed as he placed the ring in Sam’s hand. “He would have liked to have met you.”
    Sam closed his fingers around the ring, a strange soaring sensation in his heart.
    “My father found my brother and me in the street just as he did Azami. Several nights a week would we walk on those streets with him. When he found her, she was surrounded by those who would have used her for the child sex trade. They knew him and knew he would have fought to the death for her. He saw her bravery, right there in that horrible alley, the light in her eyes, the courage she possessed. She has a spirit no monster could slay. That’s what my father saw in her, and he knew a man would come along who would see that same spirit. I’m glad it is you.”
    Sam bowed slightly. “Where is she?” He could barely get the words out. He needed to see her. Right then. Right now. He had expected her to be there, but he knew little of the traditions of her family.
    “I believe she has gone to your home to welcome you,” Daiki answered.
    Sam’s stomach did a slow somersault while his heart lifted.

C HAPTER 12

    S am had chosen a spot in the forest of trees near a running stream with water tumbling over a series of small boulders to build his home. His porch overlooked the stream, with his bedroom situated so he could open his windows and listen to the water as it made its way down the tumbling rocks to the cool pond below. Lacy ferns scattered along the narrow bank grew in every shade of green. Homemade paper lanterns floated down the stream, glowing softly, lighting the water so that it sparkled like jewels in the night and illuminated the delicate night fronds.
    “Magic,” he murmured aloud. “Azami magic.”
    She was welcoming him home in her own way. If his heart hadn’t been soaring before, it was now. He paused to watch the lanterns floating gracefully down the small series of falls toward the swirling pool of water several yards away. In the darkness of the forest, the warm radiance lent the water a luminosity that added to the magical illusion of the world around him shifting and changing. The rest of the world dropped away until there was only this moment, this place—and Azami waiting for him.
    His childhood had been one of drugs and apathy, his mother,