A tiny wooden structure sat alone on a grassy island in the middle of a small lake of such sophisticated design none could tell if it was artificial or natural. Nor were such boorish distinctions important regarding the ancient tea house. It was a most private spot where the Minister Nakahama, infamous for his familial temper, could ritually go to seek forgiveness of whichever wife he had slighted this week. It was a thousand-year-old ceremony, very solemn and sacred. None but rogues would dare to disturb.