Kakita Sayomi , simply put,  looked immaculate.  A not inconsiderable amount of her time had been spent primping and preparing herself for this meeting and it certainly showed. She had worn her finest kimono rather than her traveling clothes. Spun of fine light blue silk in honor of her clan's colors silver cranes stood on one leg around the garment's skirts. The silks themselves were heavy , stifling even and stockings dug into her thighs but she wore a faint smile time, an expression painted on as well as the red decorating her thin lips or the faint shade of silver shadowing her violet eyes. Of course the heat was one of the faintest complaints lingering in the back of her mind. Her silvery hair,  worn high on the back of her head in a foxtail, weighed heavily on her neck and the thick jade ring that served to hold the strands up only made it worse.<br/><br/>Despite all of this she wore that painted-on smile well into the tea ceremony. There was no arguing about it, no looks of discomfort or shifting in place either.  To look like what was expected of a young marriageable maiden of her age Sayomi had to be almost doll-like and that she was, even as her knees grew sore and sitting on her heels proved tiresome.<br/><br/>When tea was finally poured it was almost with a sigh of relief that the young samurai-ko accepted her cup,  cupping the small porcelain dish in her pale hands and sipping demurely. It was at this time she allowed herself to relax ever so slightly and let her previously forward-focused eyes pan towards those in the room with her. They all seemed competent,  putting on a show just like her but there were a few mons worthy of suspicion but before she could scrutinize further the jade orbs were offered.<br/><br/>She prostrated herself,  letting her palms rest on the floor beside her and forehead touch the floor in a measured gesture of humility that she held for far longer than the other two.<span style="color: teal">" Isawa-sama,"</span>she mutters,<span style="color: teal">" I am humbled by your offer of this station but I cannot accept such a position. "</span>There was no mention of not being worthy but she certainly felt so, the ever familiar phantom of doubt gnawing at her insides.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>