Yamashita scowled, removing the thin clothing a piece at a time but not opting to complete the process, leaving the cloth binding her breasts in place, and the smallclothes which covered her sex intact. Her lithe, tanned body bore the evidence of healing wounds - new scars and scabs from the battle a month ago on her left forearm, the right side of her back under the rib cage, her thighs and calves. The rest of her body was marked here and there with older scars, lean and muscled in a way which suggested a concentrated application of the arts of war.<br/><br/>Long dark hair was braided but clean, and like most Shindo of the upper classes, she smelled of subtle scent and clean perspiration, clearly embracing the fanatic attitude to bathing.<br/><br/>“About seven years. My Lord has been progressive among his peers in promoting on merit.”<br/><br/>She held her arms out slightly to the side of her body.<br/>“I have no other weapons. I am no ninja to carry garrottes in my hair or sew poison into the hem of my shirt. Is it not enough that you take a hostage, but you must also humiliate me too?”