Shogun Iemitsu

Rising from the fragrant, soothing water, Hideo allowed the liquid to stream down his face. His long hair trailed down his well-muscled neck in a satisfying weighty mass. Wiping his eyes and completely relaxed, Hideo looked first at the swords on the stand nearest him and then fell into a reverie. His earliest childhood memory was not of his beloved mother but of his fathers swords.

The ritual was...