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“Have you finished?” Shiori asks, looking up from Frau Platin’s desk.
“I did,” Stella says, nodding. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” This is the Frau Platin who precedes theirs—hers, hopefully. But somebody in her fold. Kind, patient, yet strangely exacting. Stella wonders if she could ever lead like that. She’s too energetic. And Shiori, she thinks, is truly like that, in a way that makes it acceptable.
“Are you nervous about the Performance Festival?”
“Of course not,” Stella says proudly. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“That’s good. Me too.” They place their pen down. “A lot happens at the Performance Festival. It’s been a significant event since my first time there.”
“Exciting opportunities to make friends,” Stella says.
Shiori smiles. “Yukishiro-senpai said it was at the Performance Festival that she thinks she won the king’s stage over my sister. And Yachiyo-senpai and Mei Fan-senpai both proved their ability to be Frau Platin there. I myself faced off against Yachiyo-senpai last year.” They pause. “But you knew this, didn’t you.”
“Shiro suggested it was likely the case.”
“I see. Are you prepared?”
“I have no choice. I will be.”
“You do,” Shiori says. “You can run away. That will always be an option. It hurts people, but we can’t ignore it.”
“I’ve spent enough time running away.”
“Perhaps.”
“What?”
Shiori smiles. “I’m excited to see what you’ll do,” they say. “That’s all.”
“Is it sad,” Stella asks. “To think about stepping down?”
“It’s bittersweet, certainly,” Shiori says. “But I’m excited to move forward, too. Maybe on my next stage I can stand with Oneechan and Yukishiro-senpai and Michiru-senpai, all together. And I have another year of school left before then, anyway.”
“That’s true.”
“I think, moreso, it would be interesting to tell the me that started at Siegfeld that this is where I am now. I don’t think they’d believe me.”
“You didn’t think you’d be Frau Platin?”
Shiori smiles. “I came to school to follow Oneechan. I wanted to support her stage. I had no dreams of being king myself.”
“I didn’t know.”
“It’s all history, now,” they say. “You seem unsettled.”
“Not about that!”
“I know. I meant in general. You rely on Shiro-chan a lot, don’t you.”
“She’s capable.”
“Do you rely on her for her benefit then? You’d be fine without her?”
“Wh-”
“It’s not dusk,” Shiori says, turning their seat to look out the windows behind them. “Yet the sky is unchanging.”
“Shiori-senpai, what are you-”
“Let’s begin, shall we?”
So, they begin.
The King doesn’t meet Stella and Shiro when they make landfall in the kingdom. Instead she sends her left and right hands. Generals in times of war and noble lords in times of peace.
“Her Highness sent us, and her regards,” The one on the left bows. The Yumeoji family used to serve the Siegfelds, before they defected to the insurgents, so Shiro explained to her. Shiori is the last in the family line, their parents and sister lost to war. They have a gentle demeanor, but fight fiercer than the best of them.
“We’ll ensure safe passage to the capital,” the one on the right says. She’s not from the kingdom, but it’s more familiar to her than it is to Stella, who has never been able to step foot here before now. Mei Fan stands as the king’s rival, a force she’s constantly sharpening her blades against.
“Her Highness also apologizes for not making it here herself. Unfortunately there were pressing diplomatic matters.”
“I understand. I’ll be in your hands.”
When they make it to the capital, Yachiyo welcomes her like a friend. She is named a prince, and given free reign to travel, with no entourage required save her own personal vassal.
Yachiyo’s intent is very pointed. Stella is not a threat to her, nor to the throne. Her family name carries as much weight as any other. If the royal line seeks to reclaim their lineage, it will not be won without hardship.
“There are five roles in the story of the Dying King,” Shiori says. Stella takes a seat adjacent to them at the student council desk.
“The king, his chancellor, his general, his knight, and his marquis.”
“His oldest friend, a soldier who has his utmost trust, his bastard son, and the younger brother of his greatest—friend.” Stella nods. “Is there one of them that calls out to you? That invites you to play it?”
“The king,” Stella says.
Shiori is silent for a moment. “Does it really?” They ask.
“This is them,” Shiro explains. They’ve paused in the window of a hallway, looking down through the grass at the courtyard. “A young noble; traveler from a far-off kingdom that’s fallen to ruin. One of the old king’s former squires, trying to emulate her. And an upstart peasant who’s taken favor with the king’s confidants. Supposedly possesses great talent, but I have yet to see it.”
“There’s something untamed inside her,” Yachiyo says, approaching behind them.
“Your Highness!” Shiro drops into a low bow. Stella’s is much more restrained.
“They’ll be vassals to the king one day,” Yachiyo says.
“Your vassals,” Shiro tells Stella.
“Are you really stepping down?” Stella asks Yachiyo. So soon after we’ve arrived goes unsaid.
“They were the rules we agreed on,” Yachiyo says. “Mei Fan, Shiori, and I. Shiori defeated me per the agreement. She’s surpassed her sister and her mentor handedly.”
“And you fought with all your strength?” Shiro asks.
Yachiyo smiles. “I’ve always wanted to see Mei Fan’s home,” she says. “And poor Ruirui’s been leading that country alone for so long. I think we could give some advice.”
Stella looks back down at the training session occurring on the green.
“If it’s a matter of ability, you should be able to win with or without your family name,” Yachiyo says. “Abolishing the Siegfeld line of succession is irrelevant.”
“Of course,” Stella says.
“And if you’re so confident,” Yachiyo says. “Perhaps you should join them. Any one of them, if they can best Shiori, could be named for the throne.”
“Do you think they’re promising?” Stella asks.
“Oh, who knows what an old fogey like me thinks.”
“It would not be hard for my lady to defeat them,” Shiro says.
“If they’re to be confidants,” Stella says. “I would like not to make enemies of them.”
Yachiyo smiles. “Interesting,” she says.
“What is all this?” Stella asks.
“An opportunity to understand you better,” Shiori says.
“You already know me, Shiori-senpai.”
They lean back in their chair. “Duty, ambition, and desire are interesting things, don’t you think?”
“Ambition is just the byproduct of the other two. You can’t have ambition without a duty to uphold, or a desire to fulfill.”
“In a way.”
“Is it really about me?”
“Of course. But when you can’t kill me, who will take your blade and strike a blow in your name.”
Stella stares at them.
“I want to know her through you, too. That’s important to knowing you, too.”
They settle into a new life at the castle. Impending succession—the coronation ceremony, amongst other things—has put the castle in a bit of a frenzy, which offsets any undue scrutiny towards the returned prince of the old royal line.
Shiro immediately busies herself with a slew of diplomatic duties that Stella knows will fall to herself to see through, reaching out to acquaint themselves with nobility without making themselves seem conniving. Stella has spent a childhood learning about these families—their histories, their politics—alongside Shiro. For now, though, the responsibility is not hers.
There’s something eerie about the castle. She can’t place it at first. Then she can. Their home is an exact replica. Designed identically. No matter how far she is, she will still feel like the exacting, cruel gazes of her instructors are on her back. The retinue house Siegfeld had retained in the fiefdom they’d escaped to.
She isn’t sure if anybody who bustles around the castle here actually notices her, or cares, but she can’t let any sign of her discomfort show, walking slow measured steps through the hallways, trying not to dart into a corner.
She nearly knocks directly into someone as she passes by the entrance to the kitchen.
“It’s not what it looks like!” The person shouts, nearly dropping the basket of apples she’s carrying.
One of the apples at the top gets dislodged, bouncing off. Stella grabs at it with both hands, catching it before it can hit the floor.
“Ah, you’re Ryoko, aren’t you?”
“You can’t prove that!”
“Sorry?”
Ryoko stares at her, horrified.
“Here’s your apple,” Stella says, placing it back in the piled fruit in the basket. “It looks like you’re just helping the kitchen out.”
“Oh. Um. It’s exactly what it looks like.”
“Do you need help?” Stella holds her hands out for the basket.
“I can’t ask you to help me! You’re- I mean, you’re royalty.”
“I insist. Let me help.”
Ryoko hesitates for a moment, before conceding. “You can take this one,” she says, handing Stella the basket she’s holding. “There’s another one in the kitchen. Wait here and I’ll grab it.”
She returns after a few minutes, apologizing for the delay.
“Aren’t we going to the dining area?” Stella asks, following Ryoko down the hallway and out a side door of the castle.
“Ah, no. We’re taking these somewhere in town,” she says.
“Oh. I didn’t know they did that.”
“Sometimes,” Ryoko answers. “Thank you for helping.”
“Of course,” Stella says, beaming. “It’s also nice to meet you properly.”
“Huh- oh. I guess you and your retainer have kept to yourselves.”
“Shiro. Everything’s been so hectic since we arrived, I haven’t found the time to properly introduce myself to people yet.”
“It’s not like you would have introduced yourself to me anyway.”
“Sorry?”
“I’m not nobility.”
“But you’re one of Yachiyo’s knights-in-training, aren’t you?”
“Just so they have even numbers, really,” Ryoko says. “I haven’t been able to keep up in training.”
“If it’s just that,” Stella says. “I think you could learn, couldn’t you?” Ryoko makes an unconvinced face, but doesn’t say anything. “I like it though,” she says. “The idea that everyone can make it.”
They pause, reaching an alleyway between two buildings.
“You don’t have to posture,” Ryoko says. “Regular citizens have no political sway.”
“I know,” Stella says. “That’s why I’m saying it. I think if everyone can make it, that’s the best society, isn’t it?”
“Do you?”
“I do.”
Ryoko nods. “Oh. Well, this is it.”
“Down here?”
“Yeah. Here, you wait here, okay? I think you might surprise them. I’ll drop mine off and get yours after.”
“I’ll surprise them?”
“They- they’re just familiar with the old monarchy, you know? You’re like seeing a ghost,” Ryoko says with a laugh. “Just wait here.”
“Okay!” Stella does, watching Ryoko disappear into a door on the left side of the alleyway. She comes out again after a minute, without a basket, gesturing for Stella to bring her the second one.
Someone else holds open the door for Ryoko, eyeing Stella carefully.
“Nice to meet you,” she says, after handing Ryoko the basket.
“You too,” the door holder says. She’s older. “You’re one of the Siegfelds?”
“That’s correct,” Stella says, not seeing the petrified look Ryoko shoots at her.
“Interesting. I’m surprised they let you in.” Ryoko disappears back into the building.
“We aren’t here to cause any issues, but to fix the rift between our family and the country,” Stella says.
“Because the line that deposed you’s all dead.”
“We began correspondence while King Akira was still on the throne.”
“I see.”
“That’s the last of it,” Ryoko announces, appearing again. “We can leave.”
“She’s not on my radar,” the door holder says. “But I’ll leave it. It was nice to see you,” she says to Ryoko, dropping a small pouch in her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, prince.”
Stella bows before the door is closed, leaving her and Ryoko in the hallway.
“Is that all?” Stella asks.
Ryoko nods. “Let’s go back to the castle.”
“Really?”
“We’re done.”
“I never get to visit the city, though.”
“Isn’t it dangerous?”
“That’s what Shiro says, but look at me,” Stella says, opening her arms wide and grinning. “I look super safe right now, don’t I?”
“But if your retainer says-”
“Please? I never get to do things like this. And if something goes awry, you can use your sword and gallantly protect me.”
“I don’t think I can do that!”
Stella holds a hand out. “Then give your sword to me, and I’ll gallantly protect you. I don’t think we’ll need it, though.”
“Prince, I don’t think-”
“Please? I promise I will take the blame when Shiro catches us.”
“When?”
“I heard news!” Minku announces, grinning at Stella and Ryoko. “You need musicians.”
“How did you hear that?” Ryoko asks.
“Do you know anyone?” Stella asks.
Minku grins. “You don’t know? I’ve played drums since I was eight. And Kuina’s a great guitarist.”
Kuina huffs beside her. “We don’t need to join a band,” she says.
“We really need help though,” Stella says. “We’d be so lucky to have you.”
“I’m in.” Minku puffs out her chest. “I’ll be the best drummer you’ve ever seen.”
“Will you join, Moriyasu-san?” Ryoko asks.
“I guess I have no choice,” Kuina says, sighing. “Someone has to keep Minku in line.”
“Yes!” Stella jumps up, grinning at them both. “Thank you so much!”
“Woah, should we group hug?” Minku asks. “We definitely should, right?”
“Group hug!”
“Ah, Stella-chan, I don’t know if that’s such a good-” but she and Minku are already at work huddling them closer into a hug. Ryoko gives up, laughing slightly at how poorly done it is, while Kuina squirms to try and get out of it, held in place between Stella and Minku’s iron grip.
It’s a band of four. As yet incomplete. Two guitarists, a keyboardist, and a drummer. Stella hunts for their fifth and final member, the much needed bassline of the group, to no avail. But they rehearse, and it sounds okay, and it’s the start of something, Stella thinks, that might be brilliant.
Her hands are clammy when she later hands the application form for the four of them over. It’s not ideal, yet, but it’ll have to do. They at least have enough people to register, finally, although they’re missing the key component.
Shiori takes the form from her, skimming it quickly with a frown. “A band without a bassist?”
“Um, yep! We haven’t really been able to find one,” Stella says, scratching the back of her head with an awkward laugh. “We’re still looking, though.”
“I see.” They pick up the form next to them. “I suppose I have a suggestion, then. But first I have a question.”
“Yes?”
“Minku-chan doesn’t play the drums, does she?”
Stella purses her lips.
“Forming a band at Siegfeld? Do Stage Girls really have the time?”
“You didn’t even let us meet,” Stella says.
“How would you?”
“I walk by a classroom she’s playing in.”
“And she says no as you keep demanding she joins until you wear her down?”
“No!”
“Until she sees a performance of the four of you and her heart is moved?”
“How did- Well-”
“This doesn’t work, I’m afraid.”
Stella’s shoulders slump. “To the next one?”
Shiori gives an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid so.”
“There’s no benefit to some kind of upstart like that,” Kuina huffs, pulling her boots off. Ryoko sits on her bed, slowly removing hers and placing them neatly beside the knight’s cot. “You would think a return of the royal family would be cause for concern.” She mutters under her breath. “To welcome them back with open arms, considering who they are.”
“I think Stella seems nice,” Minku says. “Don’t you agree?” She looks at Ryoko.
“Ah- well-”
“They’ll try and overthrow the new imperial system. They’re here to cause problems.”
“Aren’t they related to Her Highness already?” Ryoko asks. Kuina glares at her. “I- I mean- It’s just a rumor but people are saying Her Highness-”
“Yachiyo did welcome her as a prince,” Minku adds. “But she hasn’t overturned the old rule.”
“The marquis might feel differently,” Ryoko adds.
“King Akira wouldn’t have stood for it.”
“Aren’t you more of a threat?” Minku asks. “You’re obsessed with a dead king.”
“Minku-”
“Overthrown, at that!” She grins conspiratorially. “Maybe you’ll try and raise her from the dead or something.” Kuina looks disgusted
“Her Highness understands my feelings,” she says. “Don’t act like I’m a threat to the kingdom. I understand something clouded King Akira’s judgment.”
“She was haunted,” Minku says.
“Enough of your ghost stories.”
“They used to be your ghost stories, too. And we call them gods, usually.” Kuina rolls her eyes.
“The Prince was nice to me,” Ryoko says.
“I don’t trust her.”
Minku shrugs. “We’ll see, right?”
Stella yawns, rubbing her eye with her left hand as her right mashes the A button, trying to make it through a pointless set of dialogue as fast as possible. It’s three chapters until chapter 23, which means three chapters until she finally unlocks her.
Stella Takachiho is your boring, average high schooler, with a boring average life, and boring average prospects. She doesn’t have much going for her, except the cult classic seventh Flame Medallion game, recently remastered for the Bentendo Will.
It’s four in the morning on a exceptionally average summer break, and Stella is gaming through the night to unlock her favorite character, when she slowly falls asleep. But what unluck! A shock aggressive blizzard causes an earthquake that breaks the ceiling fan in her dorm room, which falls on her and kills her.
Oh.
Which means she’s dead.
Uh.
Which means- trails off to leading response.
“I’m sorry. I don’t really understand my line here.”
“Reawakens in the world of Flame Medallion! A second chance, with the ability to use the most powerful magic in the game!”
“This is what you’ve gone with?”
“It’s classic!”
“I’m not very familiar with the genre conventions, I’m afraid,” Shiori says.
“Really? This is one of the greatest genres of fiction there is. One of the most impressive forms of storytelling.”
“It is?”
“Of course!”
“And am I supposed to believe that Shiro-chan is-”
“The late recruit OP character in an SRPG? Yes. Often overlooked because people too quickly blorbo the first character they come across.”
“Stella-chan, this is-”
“I really really wanted this one, to be honest with you.” Stella takes in a breath. “But I know better,” she says on the exhale.
“So Marquis Shiori is crowned, and you’re leaving,” Stella says, walking into the library. Yachiyo turns from the books she’s organizing on the shelf, smiling, not even slightly surprised at her intrusion.
“It’s weird to have a retired king hanging around, isn’t it?” Stella steps further into the room. “Where’s Shiro?”
“She’s busy. It feels weird that I only just got here.”
“Shiori’s been kept abreast of our correspondence. She won’t rescind any of the promises I or Akira made.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Yachiyo smiles. “What’s a stranger to you?”
“Someone who might not be one day?”
“Well, I look forward to that day. But it’s a ways off.” Yachiyo picks another book from the pile she’s restacking. “All these books are full of notes,” she says, flipping it open.
“Oh.”
“Akira never did much writing in them. But here’s Michiru.” She points. “And this is Fumi—Shiori’s older sister. They’d read one after another and argue throughout the notes.”
“I had heard of her. I’m sorry she passed.”
“It was her choice. I don’t know this handwriting. And here.” She grabs another, flipping it open. “This was from Rui. The handwriting is Yuyuko’s, though she’s no longer amongst the writing.”
“You’re very close with that Emperor.”
“Rui and I ended up in a somewhat similar set of circumstances, although different enough, in the end. The future is in our hands. Someday, in all of yours.”
“Oh.”
“I feel bound by that duty, sometimes. It’s an honor, but it’s also a curse. You can only go forward one way.”
“Your desires aren’t your own.”
“It feels like our desires are always at the mercy of everyone else, doesn’t it?”
Stella nods.
“But I find this writing to be a comfort. Everyone else was taking notes, too. Everyone else was figuring their way through their duty.” She snaps the book shut. “Does it make you feel less alone?”
There’s one bottle. A quarter to half filled glass bottle with fruit flavored gummy pigs. The brand she always got. One thing forgotten, in a dorm devoid of Shiro.
Stella takes it out of the fridge. It’s cold in her hand. That’s normal for things in the fridge. Things made of glass, that sit in the fridge where it is colder than it is outside to keep them fresh for longer. It is not colder because Stella feels colder.
(“I’m having an off day,” Shiro says, and maybe back then she believed the excuse. She’d made a mistake too many, and Stella was worried. They were supposed to be role models for Siegfeld. They were supposed to be role models to —.
“We must prove ourselves every day as Edels,” Stella had said. “If we cannot do that, you are not fit to bear the title.”
It was supposed to just be one off day.)
The glass bottle doesn’t arc. Time doesn’t slow for its short flight. It’s an action so fast it almost doesn’t register to Stella that she’s done it until it hits the wall. Shatters into smaller pieces, small gummies tapping as they form a small scattering on the ground.
It makes her feel a little bit more normal, some how, some way. Stella doesn’t have time to unpack that. Would prefer not to. Kuina will lecture her on making a mess in a public place, then doing a poor job of cleaning it, then just standing there like an idiot while she does the proper job. Stella doesn’t think she could find the words that articulate that she needed to do it, it made her feel better, to throw a bottle of candy across the small kitchen and smash it against the wall.
(“Gummy pigs,” Stella says, slowly. “What about bears?”
“No.”)
“I have some people who may not take well to this.” Stella whirls in the doorway, staring at Shiori, their arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. “So it may be best if we brush past it.”
Stella nods.
“Are you afraid of this?” Shiori asks. “The king’s loss?”
“She won’t leave me.”
“But are you afraid of it?”
“I killed her,” Yachiyo says. She meets with Stella the next time she returns to the kingdom. “Akira.”
“I have heard.”
“She was a tyrant.” Stella nods. “I don’t regret it. And in the end, I think she was happy to go.”
“I don’t doubt it, Your Highness.” Yachiyo smiles at her.
“Akira killed her most beloved friend,” Yachiyo says. “Before. Would you have the strength to do that?”
“What?”
“And we killed our mentors, too. Took their lives, in service of our futures. Not just us, but the neighboring kingdom as well. Minku knows something of that story. Could you? Would you have the strength to take their lives to protect your own.”
“If it was the right thing to do.”
“You don’t think it’s right to kill people.”
“I know how the world works.”
“But that doesn’t mean you can do it. Will you be ready to lead?”
“I will be.”
“Do you want to?”
“Wishing to lead is the mark of a poor leader. It is a duty thrust upon you.”
“Are you so certain about that?” Stella hesitates. “I didn’t just kill Akira because she was a tyrant. I don’t think Shiori challenged me because they thought I could use a retirement. You must have the selfish desire to fortify your throne. To prevent anyone from taking it from you before you’re ready to give it up, against all odds.”
“Then- I’ll learn to do that.”
“And,” Yachiyo says. “Is it right for us to let you take it? It will be a short rule, won’t it?”
“You know?”
“Of course.”
“It won’t be so short,” Stella says.
“No?”
“But even if it is short, doesn’t that mean I have to?” Yachiyo raises an eyebrow. “I won’t have time to change my mind later. If I only have now. If I only have this one chance.”
“If that’s how you feel. Does she know?”
“Not exactly. Not really. It’s not her place.”
“It will be soon,” Shiro says, standing over Stella, blocking her view. “And you cannot be out here at this hour.”
“You can’t see stars very well here,” Stella says.
“Yes, well. We are in a city. Light pollution.”
“Will you lie down with me?”
“We must go back.”
“Shiro.”
Shiro stops obscuring her vision. “For a moment,” she concedes. Stella grins, listening to Shiro lie down beside her.
“Are you prepared?”
“Shiro! We’re relaxing. Don’t talk about it.”
“It’s important. You will have to surpass the king’s summit. And, should anyone else surpass it, soundly defeat them as well.”
“I know.”
“Are you confident?”
“I’m not looking forward to fighting everyone.”
“It is your duty.”
“I know that.” Stella thinks if she squints hard enough, she can see stars that aren’t visible to her right now. Like she could see that far out. “Will you?”
“What?”
“Face me. Beyond the king’s summit.”
“There’s no point exploring impossible concepts. My stage is an extension of your will.”
“You can see more stars camping.”
“Moriyasu-san will be your biggest opponent.”
“Can’t see anything here. It would be so nice to learn about the stars. But there’s no time for that.”
“But we can’t count Kobato-san or Umibe-san out. You must be prepared.”
“There’s a new Fire Emblem game coming out,” Stella says.
“Ojousama, please-”
“I don’t have a choice,” Stella says. “I must become Siegfeld’s Frau Platin. I know. So please. Just for tonight. Please.”
Shiro is silent.
“I won’t disappoint the family name. I promise.”
Shiro takes in a breath. “Are you going to demand I play this game for you as well?”
“I don’t do that! And you like them!”
“They’re unrealistic.”
Stella sits up. “Chess is unrealistic! How is a tower moving!”
Stella’s been plagued by insomnia since she stepped foot in the kingdom. No, it’s been since long before that, really. Shiro is near constantly vigilant, but sometimes, in the dead of night, if Stella is quiet enough, she can sneak far enough away from their rooms and walk freely.
She likes the occasional feeling of solitary walks, looking up at the large portraits of king’s past. The familiar faces of her family halting abruptly in favor of the severe lines of a usurping king.
She must curb thoughts like this, although her family and retainers back home all spoke them. And, really, it’s only because of this usurper she can possibly reclaim the throne. Anyone who can prove themselves the king can wear the crown, even her. And so they don’t merely kill her where she stands.
She enters a hallway which looks out into the courtyard, pushing open one of the windows to lean out and look out further, up into the sky. It’s nice, in the dead of night, when most of the candles have been snuffed out, save guiding ones in the hallways, to look up at the stars. Millions of them dotting the night sky. If you imagine each of them as a person, twinkling on you fondly, it makes the whole thing less unbearably lonely. Her first friends; the ones who care about her most deeply.
There’s the tap of a boot down the hallway towards her. Stella turns, pulling herself back in, prepared to excuse her disappearance from Shiro. There’s a glint of silver, flashing towards her. She stumbles back a step, before a hand shoots out, grabbing the hand holding the blade.
“Ryoko?” She asks, her eyes adjusting to the scene.
“What’s happening here?” Shiori asks, holding Ryoko’s hand in place.
Ryoko looks stricken. “Your Highness!”
“Were you a spy?” They ask.
“No- no! It was-“
“Then what are you doing?”
“It’s what it looks like,” Ryoko says. “I’m here to assassinate Stella.”
“An assassin?”
“No. Assassin is too nice. I’m just a barbarian.”
“So that’s it,” Shiori says quietly. “And who were you sent here by? To kill the prince. Or perhaps both of us.”
“There was no aim,” Ryoko says. “The captains said I could get a better life here. Maybe someday see my family again.”
“Yet you chose to kill Stella.”
“Her family is the royal line. If it dies-“ she cuts herself off.
“Well?” Shiori turns to look at Stella. “She wanted to kill you.”
“But she did it for a good reason.”
“What good reason?”
“She has noble intentions.”
“There are bounties on your head,” Ryoko says. “I could have turned a profit on your death.”
“For your family.”
Ryoko stares at her, horrified. “I tried to kill you.”
“There’s no guarantee she won’t try to kill you again.”
“She’s my friend,” Stella says. “I know you’re a good person.”
Shiori releases Ryoko’s hand, which falls back to her side.
“That’s naive,” Ryoko says.
“Hopelessly so,” Shiori adds.
“I believe she’s a good person,” Stella says. “I’ve seen the way you behave daily. This one mistake doesn’t ruin your entire character—it can’t.”
“That’s kind,” Shiori says. “I’ll keep it in mind. However, Yachiyo left your safety in my hands. An attack like this can’t be left alone, no matter how noble your forgiveness.”
“You mean you have to punish her?”
“Right,” Ryoko says.
“We’ll discuss it at a later date,” Shiori says. “For now, you follow me,” they tell Ryoko. “And you should return to your chambers. It is not safe to wander alone.”
“You’re obscuring it.”
“I’m not.”
“None of this is real. Why do we run through these false scenarios?”
“It’s- they’re just-”
“Stella-chan.”
She gives up. “If they’re not secret,” she says. “They can be haunted. Taken away.”
“Haunted?”
Stella doesn’t say anything.
“They won’t be haunted here. Okay?”
“I’ve had enough!” Kuina announces, stepping away from Stella and pulling her blade from its sheath on her back. Stella is sitting under a tree, reading a book of poetry she’s pilfered from the castle library, annotated with a collection of notes in two sets of handwriting she doesn’t know. She’s been here the better part of a year, now, and ingratiated herself into a friendship with Ryoko (who even overcame the awkwardness between them with enough time) and a stable position in the castle culture. Kuina’s general coldness to her had been nothing short of a minor inconvenience, a barrier to be passed in eventual fealty to each other.
“I’m so sorry,” Minku says. “It was only a matter of time.”
“Stella Siegfeld, I challenge you to a duel.”
“You’re supposed to throw down a glove,” Minku whispers-shouts at Kuina. “Like the old Marquis Yumeoji used to.” Kuina looks affronted. “She used to do that to King Akira,” Minku says, miming the movement. “She also gave up on the glove eventually. You’re killing it, actually.”
“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” Kuina says.
“Yes you do! The old Marquis—King Shiori’s older sister—used to frequently challenge King Akira in duels to try and prove which of them was the better fighter. They were pretty evenly matched, but Akira usually had a teensy tiny lead.” She makes a whooshing noise, miming fencing. “Sources debate if they were in love or not.”
“What sources?” Kuina asks, horrified.
“My old master and herself. She couldn’t make up her mind, on account of the whole Akira killing Fumi thing.”
“Marquis Yumeoji died in battle.”
“Right! Anyway! You’ve been challenged,” Minku says to Stella.
“I don’t understand why,” Stella says.
“You’re here to restore the old monarchy,” Kuina says. “I will not allow that to stand.”
“That’s a hefty accusation,” Shiro says. “Are you sure you’re willing to make it?”
“I’m not afraid of her.”
“I would prefer not to fight you,” Stella says.
“The time for that has passed.”
“I’ll take it,” Shiro says.
“What?”
“Shiro!”
“If you are laying an official challenge, one which cannot be denied, someone else has the option to take it in the intended recipient’s stead.” Shiro pulls her sword from her belt.
“Aren’t you her butler?”
“I am my lady’s loyal retainer. Though she eclipses me, I have learned something of her grace and strength.”
“She’s right,” Minku says, taking a seat beside Stella and Ryoko on the grass. “You have to take it.”
“Then, till one of us is disarme,” Kuina says.
“Very well,” Shiro says with a nod. “When you’re ready.”
It’s a short fight.
Kuina moves first, attempting to overwhelm Shiro, swinging at her with a full force blow. Shiro steps out of the way, slashing at Kuina’s shoulder.
She yelps as she twists herself out of the way. She tries another overwhelming blow, which Shiro catches this time. Kuina bears down, until Shiro shifts her weight, pulling her sword away. Kuina, now bearing down on nothing, stumbles forward. Shiro hits her in the back with the pommel of the sword, knocking her onto the ground.
Stella lets out a shout, jumping up.
“Are you okay?” She calls to Kuina.
“I’m still holding my sword,” Kuina grunts at Shiro, trying to push herself back up.
“That’s true,” Shiro says, pushing Kuina with her foot onto her back. She places her foot onto the sword. “Let go of it or I’ll cut the tendons in your wrist.”
“Shiro!”
“What the hell.”
“Well?” Shiro places the tip of her blade near the side of Kuina’s wrist.
“Fine!” Kuina releases her grip on the sword, pulling her hand down to her side, away from the sword.
“Good choice,” Shiro says, removing her blade and sheathing it. She steps off Kuina’s sword.
“Even if I know what the answer is,” Stella says. “It can’t be true.”
“Even if it’s what everyone wants?”
“No matter what.”
“What about what you want?”
“I’m full of selfish desires. All I do is want things. And bother her with my wants.”
“But this? What do you want for this?”
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t lose to her. There are things that are more important than desire.”
The King doesn’t sit at the throne, lording over her. They stand in front of her instead, with that same gentle smile.
“You’re here to kill me,” Shiori says.
Stella can’t move her head to nod.
“I know this story,” Shiori says. They place their hand over Stella’s, the one gripping the knife held up to kill them. “But you can’t do it,” they say.
“You aren’t a tyrant,” Stella says.
“You’ll kill me as an act of goodwill?”
“Wh-”
Shiori waits.
“Aren’t I supposed to?”
“Isn’t this your throne?” Stella’s grip on the knife loosens. “No,” Shiori says. “It can’t really go like this, can it?”
“On what ground,” Kuina shouts, knocking the sword out of Stella’s hand. She hits her in the chest with the hilt of the blade, knocking her to the ground. “On what ground could you stand above me as a king! With what right could you lead us?”
“Love,” Stella says. “It’s love.”
“Do you think that makes you a king?”
“It’s my way of ruling.” Kuina doesn’t move, staring down at her, blade pointed at Stella’s throat. “You won’t accept this, will you?” Stella turns her head, staring at the seats of the theater.
“It isn’t right,” Shiori says. “Is it?”
“But-”
“Where is she, in this?”
“Dead.”
“And are you okay with that?” Stella says nothing. “Try again.”
“Seiran General Art Institute, Chief, Moriyasu Kuina. We will raise the blue storm again today!”
“Siegfeld Institute of Music, Frau Perle, Ogami Shiro. For the glory of the king’s stage!”
Stella watches the two of them clash, dancing around each other on stage. She can see Minku and Ryoko, battling on the ideologies of Rinmeikan and Frontier too, out of the corner of her eye. Only she stands separate. The 101st class had prepared her—her upperclassmen—but she wasn’t called to fight yet.
“Is this it?” Stella jolts back, but Shiori doesn’t have a sword raised against her. They’re in the audience, anyway. “That a Siegfeld doesn’t don Siegfeld’s uniform.”
“I- that is-”
“The Seisho uniform fits you well.” They smile. “But are you okay with this?”
“No.”
“Why don’t we try something real, next. Okay?”
Stella grips the cut sleeve of her revue uniform, grimacing.
“Look at me, look at me,” she shouts across the stage, the batons glinting back the lights from the stage. “You’re so annoying! I AM looking at you! More than anyone else, I look at you the most!”
“Are you trying to make me angry?” Shiori asks. “Absolutely not.”
“In the far flung future,” Stella begins. “The souls will meet again, under the dawn of a new era.”
“You’re the only person with a past tied to Siegfeld.”
“That’s not true. If the Siegfeld family is Frau Platin, then the Ogami family is Frau Saphir. That’s what my grandmother told me.”
“It’s the Chancellor’s duty to direct his king, right? To make sure he always treads the right path.”
“Of course.”
“If the king proves unfit, what should be the role of the chancellor, do you think?”
“That’s- to support and- and to-” Stella cuts herself off.
“What if the king is haunted, and goes mad? Shouldn’t that king be deposed?”
“This is what I’d pick,” Stella tells them. “If I had to pick something real.”
Shiori smiles. “Childhood.”
“I don’t think we were older than nine. Papa didn’t see the rating on a game I really wanted until he’d already paid for it, and he didn’t get a receipt, so he and Mama let me keep it. Shiro and I played it together. She used to be less strict back then, so we pretended to be asleep and then turned the console back on when we knew her parents had gone to bed.”
“You seem happy.”
“She was better than me at games, but she was scared of it, so we huddled under a blanket together, and I got to pretend to be a hero and destroy the monsters for her. I think I kind of loved it, getting to be her hero. Getting to slay the monsters.”
“It’s a nice memory.”
“There was a part of me that used to think it was a game,” Stella says. “Maid. But she’s not there because she wants to be.”
“It’s not as simple as wanting or not wanting.”
“Her desire is an extension of my own.”
“Do you think that’s right?” They ask.
“Can you be reborn as a stage girl,” Stella asks in return. “If you haven’t been born as one in the first place?”
“That’s not an easy question to answer,” Shiori says.
Stella shifts her grip on the dueling sword, staring at their adversary across the stage. The glittering uniform of Frau Platin.
“For Ojousama’s sake.” Shiro shouts. But should it be?
For the sake of the Siegfeld family. Yes, she realizes. Her and Shiro both—they both agree—they both—for the sake of the Siegfeld family.
She agrees. She also, for the sake of the Siegfeld family.
But Shiro Ogami is not a Siegfeld. So can it ever be? Really be? For the Siegfeld family?
It’s Shiro who goes toe-to-toe with the Edels. With Akira and Michiru. With Mei Fan and Yachiyo. With Shiori. That brilliance she’s always kept right between them. It’s hers. She never lost her brilliance. Only Stella had. She never lost anything.
Stella only stands there, watching Shiro and Shiori whirl around each other, matching blows. She doesn’t move. She lets someone else do the difficult work for her.
Or is this all the Siegfeld family is. Were her parents as useless without the Ogamis? Or was it just her? Could she move without Shiro, really? Could she achieve anything without Shiro moving the pieces in place?
Was that how this would go? Shiro would summit the king’s mountain, only to willingly fell herself on Stella’s blade?
But it was Stella’s divine right to claim it, was it not? To take everything from her. Was it?
Shiori’s somehow separated from Shiro. She swings down at Stella. Her reflexes are sharp; she blocks the blow, but Shiori twists their blades, dislodging it from Stella’s grip, clattering across the floor.
“Ojousama!” Shiro calls. She disattaches her batons, throws one of them to Stella. If she grabs it, she can hit Shiori’s rope. A certain victory.
Was it her right?
There’s no time to think. Shiori swings at her again, a horizontal strike at her stomach. She hops back out of the way. Nearly trips as she turns away. Her sword isn’t far. She can run to it.
It is a decision. Indecisive. Shiro’s baton clatters to the ground, untouched.