Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

“I’m not sure I actually want to get married to Prince Callistus,” Ena said whilst gliding her paintbrush across her canvas, leaving a strikingly carmen trail in its wake.

“Then simply refrain from doing so,” Mafuyu bluntly replied, her gelid eyes flicking briefly between her piece of parchment and the girl opposite her.

“That's so easy for you to say,” Ena scowled. “You have an affluent kingdom with all the servants in the world at your beck and call. You don't need to marry rich to keep the crown going.”

“Is it my fault the Shinonome Kingdom is irresponsible with their spending?”

“Oi,”

Kanade passively listened to their bickering as she picked at her lute with concentration. She had been working on this song for an unbelievably long time yet it never came out quite how she wanted. She couldn’t decipher if it was a structural issue or a problem with the melody.

“Oh, would you just stop playing for one second and answer my question?!” Ena addressed Kanade directly with a vexed expression.

“Sorry, what was it?” she asked innocently as she gently laid the lute in her lap.

“Should I marry this prince my parents want me to for his money or should I wait until I find someone I actually love?”

“Why do you need to marry him in particular?”

“Because–,” Ena furrowed her eyebrows and groaned in annoyance. “He’s the only other elven royalty that is rich and also within 500 miles of my kingdom, and well, you know how my parents feel about an elven heir to the throne mingling with people of non-elven descent. It will be difficult to marry someone who isn't. Besides, my kingdom is doing poorly financially and, according to my parents, it is imperative for either me or my younger brother to marry this wealthy elven royal.”

Kanade hummed in acknowledgement. Regarding Ena’s parents' closed-minded nature, she ruefully recalled the last time she had visited Ena’s kingdom. They practically had a meltdown upon realising that her particularly pointy ears were a result of vampirism instead of the elven lineage they were expecting. She did find it mildly amusing when they asked if she could only digest blood, though.

“I think you should do whatever you want,” Kanade decided. It was an irresolute reply but at least it was honest, and, well, she thought it was the best way to respond to someone with a temperament like Ena’s.

“Do you understand how unhelpful that is?” Ena scoffed whilst trying to rub some paint off the canvas with her thumb.

“I think you already know the answer, though,” Mafuyu looked up from her ink-covered paper to reenter the conversation, quill still nestled into her fingertips.

“What are you implying?”

“As in, you know what you want to do, you're just asking us for our approval because you need our validation,”

Ena gripped her paintbrush tighter and pursed her lips together.

“What would you know about that?” she finally uttered after a beat of silence. Mafuyu shrugged in response and the conversation died, replaced with the sound of lute strings and pen on paper.

It was a lovely day, all in all. The trio was sitting quite comfortably in the Yoisaki palace drawing room, she and Mafuyu were sitting with straight posture against an antique settee, two cooling cups of undrunk tea perched on top of the long wooden table in front of them. Opposite of it sat Ena, who was lounging across a plush chair and glaring at her painting as if it’d insulted her mother. Eventually, she set it down on her lap, either not noticing or not caring that it was getting paint on her ruffled dress, and looked up at the carved artwork ingrained into the ceiling for inspiration for the fifth time that afternoon.

Kanade followed suit as her chord plucking came to a slow halt. Meticulously carved into the stone ceiling was a depiction of an ancient god that people thousands of years ago worshipped. She didn't know who had carved it, probably a royal artist who made a living from her ancestors’ need for anything extravagant in their palace but appreciated their craftsmanship nonetheless.

The entire room was covered in similar pieces of artwork and trinkets, the layout being organised specifically by her late mother. Her mother reasoned that their esteemed guests should be able to see their family’s (and thereby their kingdom’s) rich culture and abundance of wealth. She thought it to be a covert way of telling other kingdoms to think twice about who they wanted to make an enemy of. Her father, the king, agreed with Kanade when she said that she thought it was a pointless endeavour, but her mother waved her off as being an inexperienced child and told a servant to mount another family painting on the wall.

The palace was different from a typical vampiric castle somebody may imagine when imagining one, there were no stained glass windows or blood-red furniture with dark, gloomy interiors. Rather, in the Yoisaki palace’s case anyways, most rooms were painted white or a light pink, a nod to their family crest’s colours. Although sunlight does not kill vampires anymore, they still experience less-than-ideal effects from its rays, namely burns and terrible bouts of nausea. Hence, the lighter colours help in repelling some of it when non-vampiric guests are in attendance.

In this particular drawing room, the walls were painted a very light peach with many heirlooms placed upon pearly marble columns. Kanade could stand to admire the different vases and bust statues of heroes from generations ago, as pointless as she thought they were. Tucked away in the corner of the room, a chess board lay atop a circular table, halfway through a match. She had entirely forgotten who had started the game and why they'd abandoned it. Though she did remember that Mizuki was certainly a participant, which, speaking of, where were they?

Suddenly, the doors to the drawing room slammed open and a tall, brown-haired elven man with a short, pointed beard stormed into the room. Their handmaidens stood outside the doorway looking affronted but overall powerless as Kanade realised who had burst into her drawing room.

“F–Father?!” Ena sputtered. “What–What are you doing here?”

“You have greatly disappointed me, daughter, finding company with a vampire and a Patchwork?” he shook his head and crossed his arms in a comically grand fashion. “You're making our kingdom look terrible.”

“We’ve talked about this before, though?” Ena glowered at her father with confusion. “You said I could associate with any humanoid as long as they were of the same rank.”

“You have been told wrong, dear girl,” he flicked out his arm for dramatic effect. “Now come back to the kingdom where we can mismanage kingdom funds and perform elf activities like communing with forest spirits!”

Ena stared wordlessly at her father, a mix of horror and confusion on her face.

“We need to…,” he broke off his sentence with a small fit of laughter. “We need to…”

The man’s figure suddenly shifted and morphed into a slightly shorter, lither form that was infinitely more familiar. They adjusted the bow on their blush-pink hair and giggled to themself impishly.

“Oh, you bastard,” Ena growled, seriously debating whether or not she should throw her paintbrush at Mizuki.

“It's lovely to see you too, Ena!” they smugly grinned. “How was my performance?”

“I figured it was you as soon as you stepped foot in the room. The light reflecting off your eyes was pink.” Mafuyu remarked, eyes still glued to her sheet of parchment.

“Hm, a changeling’s powers only go so far, I suppose,” they planted themself onto the seat next to Ena’s.

“If it's any consolation, you certainly fooled me, Mizuki,” Kanade offered.

“Thank you, Kanade!”

“No, no, do not encourage them,” Ena sighed through a scoff before shooting a glare at Mizuki. “I really thought you were my father for a brief moment.”

“Yes, I believe that was the point, dear Ena,” Mizuki fidgeted with their fingers and glanced towards Kanade. “Where do you keep your embroidery again? I fear my hands are growing restless already.”

Kanade chewed her lips in thought before hoisting herself onto her feet. She was never someone who revelled in fine handiwork such as embroidery, she much preferred the company of her instruments, so she wasn’t sure if she had left it in the drawing room or if a maid had moved it to her bed chamber.

“Don’t change the subject, what you just tried to do was simply disrespectful and entirely humourless,” Ena snapped bitterly.

“Lighten up a little bit, Ena. You can rest assured your father is back in his little kingdom wasting taxpayer money or something of a similar nature,”

“Do not even start with that!”

Kanade smiled fondly at their interaction, it was easy for onlookers to wonder why on earth a group of people like them became friends, but with the way Ena’s lips playfully tugged upwards, she knew everything was good-natured. And well, she also knew with the things the four of them had been through together it was unlikely any of them would stray too far from the other. Flickers of faint, painful memories played in her mind but she quickly dampened them.

After a few minutes of checking each drawer in the room, Kanade conceded to the fact that her embroidery was most likely in her quarters somewhere, if not, somewhere in the dining area no doubt. She briefly explained the situation to her friends and gave a quick wave before leaving the room. She addressed her handmaiden with a brief greeting and she set course to her chambers.

Kanade was acutely aware of the reason why Mafuyu asked their servants to wait outside the room instead of leaving them to settle near the back like the servants usually did. Most people across their connections of kingdoms know Princess Mafuyu to be a very warm, kind person who aided her citizens when they needed it and treated everyone, noble or not, lovingly and sincerely. Every week you could see her attending another ball or social gathering giving other nobility and royalty lavish gifts out of the goodness of her own heart. Though in actuality, Mafuyu was nothing of the sort.

Kanade remembered seeing Mafuyu practically half-dead in an empty room during a ball once, stitches partially falling off and eyes as cold as sleet. She had to quickly recall how to thread a needle with incredibly shaky hands so her friend’s face wouldn’t fall off. Ena and Mizuki were quick to come across the scene too and eventually, after a lot of pushing and prodding and numerous arguments which almost ended in the group splitting apart, Mafuyu reluctantly told the trio the truth: she hated it all. The fancy balls, the constant public attention, being shoved around like a prize animal.

Most surprisingly, she begrudgingly confessed to not being able to grasp her own emotions at all and thus was unable to feel empathy (a fact that did not surprise Ena in the least). She wasn’t compelled by some powerful sense of altruism nestled in her heart to be so generous, no, that image of a magnanimous princess who kept on giving was a complete sham on behalf of her controlling mother, the ruling monarch of her kingdom. From then on, the four of them held onto a very grand secret that if exposed could ruin Mafuyu Asahina’s social reputation irreparably.

From then on, any social gathering with just the four of them would mean excusing their servants from the room to allow their friend to express herself freely without worrying about keeping public appearances.

“May I inquire why you are returning to your bed chamber, Your Highness?” her handmaiden inquired.

Her handmaiden was a taller, dark-haired human girl named Ichika Hoshino. From Kanade’s personal experience, she was a perfectly capable and reliable servant who was loyal to the crown. They weren’t particularly close as both of them were on the more introverted side; she let her do her job with little hassle.

“Of course, I am fetching my embroidery for Their Highness Mizuki,” Kanade replied curtly.

The pair continued down the long corridor in silence. As with most passageways and corridors in the castle, the walls were lined with numerous portraits and antiques that climbed to the top of the high ceilings. They were a beautiful sight for guests but after seventeen years they hardly made an impression on her anymore.

She almost tripped over herself once she saw her father round the corner. Ichika immediately lowered herself into a curtsey and it took Kanade a few seconds to do the same.

Her father wasn’t an elusive figure, per se, but he certainly didn’t often show his face around the palace. After the passing of her mother, he preferred to spend most of his time in the castle’s study, signing new legislation or playing his instrument of choice, typically the lyre–the entire Yoisaki family line was infamous for their love of music after all. He wasn’t an absent father by any means either, but it was hard for a king to weather the burdens of running an entire kingdom alone, processing a loss so grand as his wife and attending to his adolescent daughter.

Kanade rarely saw him in recent times; however, they spent their free moments together playing their instruments as often as they could.

“Father! It’s been almost a week since I’ve seen you last,” she stumbled back up from her curtsey. “How are you faring?”

Her father tightened his jaw and nodded sharply.

“I am very well, thank you for asking,” he appeared like he wanted to say more but he cut himself off with a bout of heavy coughing.

“Are you all right?” Kanade reached out towards him in concern. “You haven't taken ill, have you?”

“It’s merely a passing cough, nothing to worry about,” he reassured, lightly batting her hands away from him. “I’m fine, truly.”

“I could bring the royal physician to your study if you’d like,” Kanade continued to press, she couldn’t be sure but the way he coughed sounded so distantly familiar.

Her father shook his head and coughed again into his fist in violent hacks. When he removed it from his mouth, the back of his hand was covered in claret blood.

Kanade’s hands slapped across her mouth, memories assaulting her mind of when her mother was ill. She remembered her young self flinching at her mother’s loud coughs that racked her body, blood spilling out of her mouth like water from a jug. The sound of her mother gurgling and choking on her own blood played in Kanade’s mind on repeat as she stared helplessly at her father’s bloodied hand.

“Father, isn’t that the same cough that mother had?” she inquired with a hint of nervosity.

“What?” he chuckled slightly in surprise. “Of course it isn’t, Kanade.”

“But the blood and the coughing-,”

“No, no I have… I have already spoken to the doctor and she says it’s just an ulcer in the throat,” he cleared his throat roughly. “Do not worry about me.”

“How can I not? Your coughing is identical to the illness that took mother’s life-,”

“I will not hear any more of this nonsense. You will leave me alone immediately and return to attending our guests,” he snapped, wiping the blood staining the corner of his mouth.

Kanade let the hurt show on her face as he trudged past her towards the study. She could not possibly understand why on earth her father would avoid getting treatment. Was it fear of the physician? Of illness? Regardless, it concerned her deeply. She had already lost her mother, to lose her father as well to the same disease would be utterly devastating. She told herself to reason with him later on.

Amidst all her fretting, she finally walked to her bed chamber, a spacious yet barren room with a light magenta canopy bed pressed against a wall. After rummaging around in her drawers, she pulled out the embroidery she was working on and returned to the drawing room wordlessly with troubled thoughts weighing on her mind.

– – –

“Oh, and which part is this from?” Kanade could hear Mizuki’s bright voice with her vampiric ears before she even entered the room.

“My left forearm arm was from my great-great-grandmother on my father’s side,” Mafuyu replied monotonously. “My left hand was made from artificial flesh created by the Dimmantal Kingdom’s mages.”

“May I remove your hand?”

“No,”

“Please? Just once? I’ll fasten it back on, I promise!”

“No,”

Kanade nodded respectfully towards her handmaiden and re-entered the room. Mizuki beamed as soon as they saw her.

“Thank you for bringing it, Kanade!” they playfully snatched the embroidery from her when she returned to sit down.

“You were gone for an awfully long time,” Ena said with a concerned expression. “Did anything happen?”

Kanade chewed the inside of her mouth and shook her head fervently.

“No, I just couldn’t find the embroidery, is all,” she lied, averting her gaze guiltily.

Ena stared at her perceptively but thankfully dropped the topic of conversation.

“So, Ena, how are the preparations going?” Mizuki knowingly changed the subject whilst threading their needle. Kanade didn’t know if she loved or hated how easily her friends could read her.

“Preparations?” Kanade tilted her head slightly in confusion.

“Yes, for the elven Elarian’s Dawn Festival, it’s to celebrate the coming of spring and the like, I was tasked with making all the fruit wine in the kingdom over autumn and winter,” Ena rubbed her temples. “It was so unnecessarily complicated, after all, we’re just going to pour it on the ground during the festival anyway.”

“My apologies, I forgot elven kingdoms have their spring festival before most,” Kanade said which caused Ena to shrug her shoulders briefly.

“It’s fine, I take no offence to it. Honestly, if my parents hadn’t forced my brother and me to contribute this year, I too would have forgotten,” she groaned and rolled her eyes. “They entrusted my barely sixteen-year-old brother with the bonfire preparations. Isn’t that just incredibly silly?”

“They entrusted little Akito around fire?” Mizuki laughed haughtily. “That is certainly a risky decision on behalf of your parents. I wouldn’t trust him around a lit candle let alone an entire bonfire.”

“Exactly! All in the name of teaching us to be effective rulers,” Ena smiled before apprehensively turning to Kanade. “I’ll have to go later tonight because of the preparations. I wanted to stay for the night but my kingdom’s duties come first, sadly.”

“It’s no problem,” Kanade reassured. “We will appreciate having you all for dinner nonetheless.”

Mizuki sucked a breath in through their teeth.

“Yes, well, unfortunately, I will have to do the same as Ena. My parents have informed me that I have missed too many diplomatic meetings and am expected to be present throughout tomorrow to fulfil my make-believe ‘quota’,” they wildly gestured with their hands to highlight the ridiculousness.

“I suppose it’ll be just Mafuyu and me tomorrow then,” Kanade noted dolefully, earning her a quick hum of acknowledgement from Mafuyu, who had since changed from writing poetry to reading.

“How come you're free tomorrow Mafuyu? What excuse did you use this time?” Mizuki asked, a mischievous grin blooming across their face.

“I don’t see how that is of any relevance to you,” Mafuyu responded sharply.

“Don’t be such a spoilsport. Tell us,” they goaded.

There was a brief lull in the conversation where Mafuyu debated whether or not she should divulge the secret of how she snuck away from the watchful gaze of her overbearing mother. Kanade would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little interested–it was very rare for Mafuyu to be at one of their palace meetings. Usually, they would reserve a table at a ball in a secluded area and spend what time they had not sorting minor political matters and conversing with other royals with each other. Those balls were held once every month, sometimes less if there was a shared holiday.

“I said I was studying with cultural scholars in the Yoisaki Kingdom,” Mafuyu informed before raising her cup and letting the rest of her tea drain into her mouth. “I specifically mentioned it was an overnight ordeal.”

“And your mother let you go based on that?” Ena asked, astonished.

“We place a high value on cultural knowledge in my kingdom,” she remarked blandly. “It just so happens we have a deficit in our archives on vampires.”

“You can help yourself to any books in the palace library. We have many papers and books on our history,” Kanade offered.

“That is much appreciated, thank you,”

“What a rebel you are Mafuyu! You are hiding more underneath that cold exterior of yours,” Mizuki teased, which was met by Mafuyu's cold silence, her lips pursed in annoyance.

They spent the rest of their day enjoying each other’s presence, mindlessly talking about the newest piece of gossip going around the nobility or about the importance of poetry in the modern era–the only time Mafuyu became an active and willing part of the conversation. After night fell, Kanade and Mafuyu saw the two off and returned to the palace in comfortable silence, it was a lot quieter now that Ena and Mizuki had left.

The pair spent the rest of the evening within the confines of the castle’s library, a grand space with dozens of bookshelves lined against the walls and floors. It was certainly the darkest room in the entire building due to its dark oak panelling and handful of weak-flamed candles floating above their heads, but it was cosy nonetheless. If Kanade were to put it into words, it was like being inside a secret tower where only she had the key, it was a very personal room for her.

Mafuyu trailed her finger along each book’s spine until she found one she was interested in.

“May I take this back home? I will return it after one of my scribes replicates it,” she let her hand linger on the book.

“Yes, of course,” Kanade replied curtly.

Kanade continued to walk around the space, weaving in between shelves and flicking the occasional one open. When she returned, Mafuyu’s hand was still clutching the spine, knuckles turning white as she bit her lip so hard beads of red formed along the whites of her teeth.

“Kanade,” she murmured in a low tone, eyes hauntingly vacant. “Have you ever wished to disappear?”

Kanade blinked a few times as she tried to understand what her friend was referring to. To disappear… She couldn’t say that she did. She loved the life she had now. She had friends that she cared about and a father who, although distant, supported her and tried his best to raise her despite being a ruler of a nation.

The closest time she had felt that low was probably when her mother died and, well, that was years ago.

Mafuyu’s frown deepened when Kanade let her confusion spill onto her face.

“Forget it then,” she snapped in a distinctively frustrated tone, leaving the book and the library behind.

– – –

The quiet hush of night fell upon the kingdom before long, and Kanade decided to occupy the rest of her time awake sitting on her bed reading a book on music theory from a popular bard in her kingdom.

The fact that vampires (well, at least vampires with a royal status) slept on beds was a confusing concept to those who were familiar with vampiric history. However, as with most ancient tales about them, those claims were greatly exaggerated and they had long since outgrown the need for coffins.

However, there was a level of truth in those beliefs. A vampire must sleep in a coffin to quickly and consistently boost their magic reserves, so it wasn't unheard of for the average vampire to have one in their home. As royals with an array of soldiers under their command, the Yoisaki line had little need for bat-shifting and extraordinary strength so chose to conform to the kingdoms around them and slept in beds instead–it made for fewer questions during balls and the like.

Kanade had just decided to go to sleep when there was a gentle, barely audible knock at the door. It opened just enough for her to see warm granite hair peek through the crack and her mouth quirked up fondly. Her father emerged from the other side with his lyre in hand and decided to take a seat on a chair in the corner of her room.

He looked more gaunt than in the afternoon when she spoke with him last, his cheeks were hollower and his eyes were more sunken in.

“You look quite ill, father,” she started hesitantly, mildly afraid of causing another sudden outburst. “Do you want me to send for the royal physician?”

Her father paused and took a deep breath in.

“Later, Kanade,” he grinned slightly. “I wanted to apologise for what I said and did this afternoon, it was behaviour unbecoming of a father.”

“It’s all right. I wasn't particularly hurt by it–,”

“You act like I do not know you,” he teased lightly. “I can tell when you are upset, you know.”

She chewed her lip guiltily and nodded.

“Thank you for your apology, then,” she conceded. They sat in thick silence for a brief moment; her father stared at his hands and she flicked through the pages of her books mindlessly to act like she was doing something.

“I will see the physician tomorrow, I promise,” he suddenly broke the silence. “I don’t know what it is yet, I’m just scared…”

He let the sentence trail off, eyebrows furrowing as he tightened his jaw. Kanade gestured for him to continue and he turned his head to the side to avoid her gaze.

“I’m scared of dying the same way your mother did,” he bit his tongue and shook his head woefully. “I’m sorry, I have said too much.”

“No, no, it is alright,” she affirmed, pursing her lips. “I don’t want to see you suffer like she did, either.”

Her father finally turned his head to look at her directly, his eyes glassy with tears and his hands trembling slightly, though she was unsure whether it was from emotion or his illness.

“I think about her whenever my hands meet my lyre strings.” he balled his hand up into a fist against his mouth. “Every note I play has a piece of her in it. I hear her breezy laughs and see her soft eyes with every string plucked and chord strummed.

“I will continue to long for her until I heave my last breath on this wretched earth,” he said listlessly before sinking further into the chair. “I miss that woman so much I fear I may want to die from this illness just to be with her.”

“Don’t say that, father,” Kanade interjected, mildly fearful. “She would want us to live, wouldn’t she?”

“What’s the point of living when I don’t get to see her every day?” he paused and shook his head. “You’re right, my apologies. I suppose I was just thinking out loud.”

Kanade stared at him with concern but didn’t say anything.

“Do you remember the song she used to love?” he murmured hoarsely, breaking off to cough a few times into his hand. He raised the lyre in his lap and gave it a quick strum to check if it was in tune. “The one by her favourite bard? It’s hard to forget.”

“Naturally,” she grabbed her lute from under her bed and nodded to him, she knew what an invitation to play from her father looked like. “When you’re ready.”

The sounds of strings rang out from her room as they both plucked and strummed at their instruments wholeheartedly. Her mother’s favourite song wasn’t memorable in the sense that it was loud or showy in its presentation with quick fingerwork and crashing melodies, rather it was memorable in the sense that it was relatively straightforward yet, if played by a good bard, sounded like multiple instruments were playing at once. The tune was gentle but so powerful it could bring even a hardened warrior to tears. It took a very skilled, very talented bard to pull off such a piece, and luckily, the Yoisaki line had both.

“Hiraeth of a Lamenting Legionary”, is what it was called. The words were all in an ancient language Kanade had thankfully learned due to her mother’s insistence. The song details a lone soldier wandering the plains of his massacred village, his grief so powerful that he can no longer hold a sword to get his revenge. The ending of the song’s meaning is hotly debated amongst musical scholars but the most agreed-upon theory is that he ended up dying unhappy and lonesome. She never knew why her mother loved it so much, but she remembered sitting together as a family in the drawing room once a week to hear her father play it. Kanade stopped crying after a certain point but the servants that lined the room weren’t so resilient to its emotional pulls.

After her passing, her father stopped playing it as often whereas Kanade chose to pick it up in her name. It was a difficult composition to be sure, but absolutely worth it to hear those agonising melodies hum together as one. And, well, when she was stuck writing a song it was useful to have the knowledge of that song on hand for inspiration.

It was just before the first chorus when her father started to cough violently and his playing slowed to a halt. Kanade looked up alarmed but her father encouraged her to keep going.

“I’m fine, carry on playing,” he wiped the blood off his chin and set the lyre to one side. “I’ll continue watching from here.”

She hesitated but after another push from her father, she resumed playing her lute melodramatically whilst singing crisp notes into the air. Kanade made sure to pay special attention to the way her voice sounded, half of the song was made up of how good the bard was at conveying emotions. Her father was just naturally inclined to the mellow message of the song but for a less experienced person (in both music and the language) like Kanade it was difficult to draw out the meaning and symbolism in the lyrics, so instead she drew her emotions from thinking about personal experiences–more specifically her mother.

Kanade could distantly hear her father make some strangled-sounding noises but she was too enwrapped in the song to care, her eyes screwed shut as she let the melody override her senses. A good song would do that to you, make you forget everything around you so you can only think about, no, worship it.

Her mind finally regained its control when she finished up the song with its final, vague verses and opened her eyes blearily. When they refocused, she could see her father’s body slumped against the chair, eyes rolled back and blood dripping from his mouth and onto his cream-coloured robes.

She leapt from her bed, tossing the lute to one side as she raced to check on him.

“Father?! Father, please, please, wake up I beg of you,” she cried, shaking his body violently. “Oh, this cannot be happening… Help! Can anyone help, please?!”

She continued to yell until finally, a royal attendant entered the room. By the time he finally came, Kanade was a sobbing mess at her father’s side. Her eyes burned and her fists ached from digging her fingernails into her palms. She hated herself so, so much for not noticing sooner. If she had just stopped when he had started coughing her father may not have…

The royal doctor had to push her off his body as she shuffled the king’s seemingly lifeless body onto a maroon stretcher. She took a quick examination of his body and turned to address Kanade.

“You’re lucky he still has a pulse, Your Highness,” she rasped in that annoyingly rude tone of hers. “I should be able to stabilise him but I’m unsure if I can do much else.”

“May I accompany you?”

“No,” she bluntly replied, heaving one side of the stretcher upwards whilst her assistant took the other. “Only professionals are allowed into my room whilst in emergency treatment. I’ll explain more when your father isn’t on the brink of death, Your Highness.”

And with that, Kanade was left alone in her room, tear marks staining her cheeks whilst sitting cross-legged on the floor with her nightgown on. She lowered her head into her hands and screamed.

– – –

As soon as the daylight’s first rays hit her eyelids, she rose from her bed with a groggy yet alert mind. She didn’t get any sleep the entire night.

The royal doctor had told her they’d most likely be done in the morning so–after being forced back into her room by some surprisingly strong nurses–she spent the rest of her night staring at her ceiling and crying into her hands whenever she had recuperated enough energy.

She trudged weakly towards the medical room, ignoring the pitiful glances she received from the servants who had just risen to perform their duties.

Kanade knocked on the door shakily and it was soon opened by one of the nurses. The royal physician met her strong gaze and motioned for her to come in begrudgingly as if her entire existence fundamentally irritated her.

The doctor was an older nymph with wiry greying hair and deep glabellar lines from years of displeased frowning. She had been the royal doctor for as long as she could remember, and her attitude had always been the same. She would dread getting ill because she knew she would have to endure scornful glares and disrespectful comments, but despite that, she had to concede she was very good at her job.

“His Majesty is alive but is in a coma, unfortunately,” she exasperatedly rubbed her forehead. “This disease isn’t like most common illnesses as it's the same one your late mother had, ironically. Stars rest her soul.”

“What do you mean?”

“Right, you were probably too young to remember it,” she drawled in a bored tone. “Very rarely, diseases can mutate to resist healing magic, this creates strands that we as sorcerers find very hard to cure. It’s possible to take the edge off with our magic but there’s not a lot we can do other than try to find a medicine to combat the specific strand. As expected, the disease His Royal Highness has mutated over the years and our current antidotes do not work. We’re working on a fixed revision now.

“It’s my duty to you and the crown to make sure that his condition doesn’t result in the same unfortunate conclusion,” her usually guarded expression softened a little.

Kanade huffed sadly and approached closer to her father, her throat tightening once she saw his frail body. He looked so vulnerable wrapped up in so many blankets, magic being continuously syphoned into him by two nurses that sat on opposite sides of the bed. He was never a fighting man, per se, but he certainly was a reliable, staunch king and a rock she could lean on whenever she needed one. To see him utterly powerless like this… It pained her to tears.

“Don’t get too close, Your Highness,” she barked, all previous signs of affection leaving her face. “It’s contagious.”

Kanade shot a frustrated glare at the nurse, of course, she knew that–she had just mentioned it a mere few seconds ago. She wanted to scream at her and cry and mope all at once, but she ended up crossing her arms like an upset child and slowly backing away from his bedside.

Thousands of thoughts and what-ifs poured into her mind in those few hours she stood in that stuffy, dimly lit room. She tore her insides up thinking about how she could’ve saved him earlier if she wasn’t such a snivelling mess or if she’d put the damned lute down like a good daughter when her father started to cough. Maybe none of this would have happened if she hadn’t acted like a spoiled child that afternoon and pouted when her father dismissed her concern.

She knew it was all pointless, though. Her father was still bedridden no matter how many times she imagined things she could've done differently.

“To be fully transparent,” the doctor eventually said after finishing up another quick check-up. “This illness… is more so an internal battle than something we can solve from the outside. Most diseases resistant to magic like this are more psychological after a certain point. To explain it in another way, the disease is like a dark room His Majesty is trapped in and he is finding his way around with a lantern. He can now either let the fire burn out and let the darkness swallow him up or fuel the flame and eventually dissipate the darkness altogether.

“His Royal Highness will have a higher chance of survival if he actively fights against it.” the doctor sighed miserably. “Let’s just hope that whatever you were saying to him before his condition worsened would aid him in a mental battle.”

Kanade bit her cheek until it drew blood.

“Of course. I’m sure my father will be back on his feet in no time,” she smiled lopsidedly.

The doctor hummed non-committedly and went about her way.

– – –

It was the afternoon when she left the medical room, her handmaiden was waiting patiently outside the door–still rubbing her eyes and yawning after the events of the previous day. Kanade hadn’t seen her on the way to her father and wondered when she had arrived, she would feel terrible if she had been waiting all morning in the same place for her.

She didn’t want to press it though, she’d rather not know.

According to her handmaiden, Mafuyu was in the drawing room waiting for her, as she would have to leave soon and Kanade was naturally expected to see her off. For some reason, seeing another person whilst she was in this state made her want to hurl.

She greeted Mafuyu’s handmaiden as she entered the room to find Mafuyu sitting on the same chair Ena had yesterday, writing more poetry. Kanade curtseyed to her respectfully which netted a confused stare from her friend–they never addressed each other formally when in private. She quickly leapt out of that position, her body was operating by itself without any input from her brain.

She took the settee opposite her and sank her weary body onto it. It didn’t hit her until she sat down just how exhausted she was.

“I heard about your father,” Mafuyu’s gaze had been continuously fixed on her piece of parchment even after Kanade had entered the room. “I’m… sorry. I hope he gets better soon.”

It was hard to gauge whether or not Mafuyu felt genuine about that sentiment, but it didn't matter to her anyway. She appreciated the effort. Kanade smiled tiredly but didn’t respond.

So she didn’t, and neither did Mafuyu. They sat in silence enjoying each other’s company. That had always been the basis of their friendship, they had initially met and bonded due to their passion for music and lyric writing but when it came to it, they found solace in each other’s presence. Kanade found it to be a nice break from all the incessant chatter of other nobility and royals and Mafuyu enjoyed it as she didn’t have to pretend to be someone she wasn’t.

“I think I understand what you meant yesterday,” Kanade started. “About wanting to disappear.”

This piqued Mafuyu’s interest as she finally looked up from her page, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Do you?” she asked in an accusatory tone as if to say she didn’t believe her.

“I… I think I’ve always felt that something wasn’t right with me. How at times I wanted to do nothing but rot in my bed for weeks on end, or how sometimes I don’t feel worthy of the love the three of you show me but…,” Kanade chewed the inside of her cheek as she felt tears building at the back of her eyes. “Yesterday I did something terrible, I-.”

Kanade cut herself off as a wave of emotion hit her. Mafuyu nodded to suggest she carry on talking.

“I think I killed my father,” she let the words tumble out of her mouth before she could process the gravity of what she had just said. “He was apologising to me for something he really didn’t need to apologise for and we played some music and I didn’t notice when he started dying I’m such- I’m such an idiot.

“My father has done so much to raise me and I repay seventeen years of service by taking his life?!” tears had started spilling out of her eyes again at this point but she kept rambling. “I don't want him to die. And the thought of my actions being responsible for his death? Nevermore have I wanted to disappear so badly.”

Mafuyu watched silently as her friend continued to weep bitterly, wiping her eyes and runny nose with her dress sleeves in a movement that would’ve made her etiquette teacher faint. Kanade loved Mafuyu as much as a person could–she truly did!–but staring at that cold, unreadable look on her face, not offering comfort to her grieving, clearly upset friend, caused her to sink further into her despair. She shook her head, she shouldn’t even be subjecting her friend to this level of wallowing anyway, to get upset at her for not comforting her was selfish.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be offloading all this onto you. It is getting quite late and I suspect you need to return to your kingdom,” Kanade mumbled, throat still sore.

“Maybe you could save me, one day,” Mafuyu said so quietly Kanade had to strain to hear it.

“What do you mean?”

“Never mind, you’re quite right, I should be leaving now,” Mafuyu took her extra pens and paper from the table and started to walk towards the door. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Would you want me to escort you–,”

“I’ll be all right, Kanade,” Mafuyu snapped icily, a tone she hadn’t heard since their first major argument at that ball those many moons ago.

She helplessly watched her friend leave the castle grounds, feeling more confused and dismayed than when she entered.

– – –

Kanade was never much of a dreamer.

She used to be, once upon a time, before her mother died when she was just shy of seven years of age. They were typical dreams a child of her age would have: colourful landscapes with nonsensical beasts parading around cotton-candy hills and meadows; perhaps she would have the occasional nightmare wherein either a kind baku would eat it for her or she’d run to her parents in tears and get comforted back to sleep.

That, of course, changed when her mother died.

For a few years afterwards, Kanade never dreamed. Not once. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she would wake up again as if she had been in a coma all night. It never particularly bothered her, it was certainly better than the alternative of dreaming of her mother’s face or a nightmare reliving the last days before her death, so she continued her life as normally as she could whilst still being in mourning.

Then, on a night much like any other, she had a dream for the first time in four years. She was standing on a grassy hillside that stretched on as far as the eye could see, a breeze constantly rushing through her hair as if she was trapped in a wind tunnel. It was never cold in her dreamscape, though, it was a warm breeze that comforted her as it playfully danced around her nightdress. The terrain wasn’t entirely flat, the tops curved upwards and downwards in jagged bumps and every few metres there were interestingly shaped boulders that littered the slope of the hills and disturbed the perfectly smooth pastures.

Kanade almost gasped when she saw the sky for the first time. It was composed of pastel pinks and purples melting into each other creating gorgeous gradients in the dusky heavens; the sun was lowered into a semicircle on the horizon, a reddish ball of gas that always appeared closer to her in her dreams than in real life. Stars distantly twinkled in the background, occasionally covered by the puffy clouds that meandered over them, causing them to blink at her like fireflies casting shimmering spells of light.

She soon found out that her returning dreams had a catch–the only thing she could dream of afterwards was that same green hillside, where she could do nothing but wait for herself to wake up. Her younger self found it boring after a while, sitting on that slope with nothing to do except cloud gaze and wander endlessly but now as an adolescent royal in the public eye, she found it to be an escape from a reality where she was forced to become somebody–a good figurehead, a perfect daughter, a perfect queen. All things she was not.

In that space, she could be nobody and everybody.

The dreams came and went and lacked that sense of stability she so desperately craved. She supposed the absence of dreams conditioned her into expecting the same thing every night. It was mildly uncomfortable at first, but after she started to bond with her friends more, she soon grew used to the sporadic returns to those hilly greenlands.

Luckily, she managed to enter into her escapist realm that night, mind still racing with thoughts of her father and now, surprisingly, the peculiar reaction of her friend.

The hillside still seemed the same, the slope descending into an infinite void and the top still had its familiar bumps and curves. Kanade sighed in relief once she arrived, she desperately needed a space where she could process the events of the previous day.

However, as Kanade strolled up the hills, she noticed something that had never appeared before–a familiar chequered picnic blanket with a complementary basket lying primly on top of it. Physical objects never appeared in her dreams, especially not ones that came from her past. Memories of her mother came crashing into her mind spontaneously like lightning strikes hitting her temples. She crashed to her knees, head aching as she pressed it into her hands in an attempt to make the pain stop.

When the sensation started to bleed from her body, she looked up to see a figure she’d never seen before sitting on her panic blanket.

A girl, around the same age as her, sat with her legs pressed closely together and bent towards one side. She wore a light cotton tunic tucked into a leather bodice and a flowing, wine-red skirt that draped off her frame alluringly as if she had enchanted the simple robes to dazzle under the sun’s setting rays. Her dusty rose hair fell in gorgeous waves until the end of her shoulder blades, and two small braids were entwined together at the back of her head.

Her back was turned towards Kanade, making her wholly unaware of the princess’ presence behind her. The girl sighed softly to herself whilst looking out into the sunset, hair twirling around in the air as it floated around her like a halo.

In all honesty, Kanade had no idea what to do.

She never had visitors in her dreamscape before, baku never visited on the account that her dreams were pleasant and there were no boogeymen servants in the palace. There was the possibility this girl wasn't real and just a part of her dream but, for some reason, her instincts told her otherwise.

“Excuse me?” she called before she could stop herself.

The girl turned around sharply, alarm etched into her features. Her soft, sky-blue eyes widened upon seeing the princess, irises shooting around the dream space to examine her surroundings with cautious precision. Upon seeing her face, Kanade couldn’t help but remark on how ethereal she looked in this space, with the glow of the sun softening her already delicate features to the point she seemed like an oil painting.

Suddenly, large ebon wings sprouted from her shoulder blades, clawing two jagged holes into the back of her tunic and she thrust herself off the ground in a powerful leap, apologetically glancing at Kanade from the corner of her eye. With a strong slash of her arm, she carved a gaping rift within the sky and disappeared as if she never entered in the first place, the void-like opening closing off immediately behind her.

What a strange girl.

And oddly enough, all Kanade could think of was the way her eyes reflected the stars’ light in them like minuscule galaxies.

– – –

Kanade hated this. Hated the royal physician, hated this damned disease and definitely hated herself.

She hadn't left her father’s side all day. She denied food, rejected guests and dismissed all servants for the time being.

She cast her mind back to that morning, where she only anticipated to stay at his bedside for a few hours until she was expected to meet with Lady Tenma in the afternoon to discuss land ownership on the west side of the kingdom (she was usually delegated to hear and judge minor legal disputes when her father was occupied).

The king’s royal attendant and most trusted advisor had approached them, standing awkwardly beside her as he gazed upon his long-time friend with pity. He shuffled a scroll out of his baggy sleeve.

“It's pleasant to see you again, Your Highness,” he said quietly, eyes still fixed on the comatose king.

“Likewise,” she replied, half focused on the conversation and half focused on that enigmatic girl that had appeared in her dream. She was so mystified by her very existence–how did she infiltrate her mind so easily? Vampires naturally had higher resistances to anything arcane in nature, something dream-hopping explicitly was.

It set her on edge. And she hated being on edge. Especially at a time such as this.

“Well, I better not bore you with small talk,” he rasped, handing her the scroll. “We ought to discuss inheriting the throne if the worst should happen.”

There was a beat of silence in the room that felt like hours. The nurses hesitated in their syphoning and the royal physician tilted her head to the side in intrigue. Kanade, on the other hand, felt nothing but pure, unadulterated dread.

“I don't think that's necessary,” she snapped a little too harshly.

“It's just a precaution, Your Highness,” he said with a forced smile.

“It won't happen,” Kanade glared at her aggressor vindictively. “So you may leave.”

“It's not my choice, it's tradition–,”

“I don't give a damn about tradition, Lord Tano!” Kanade yelled vehemently. “You–You speak of him like he's dead already.”

The attendant allowed his false smile to drop from his face and replaced it with a fierce scowl, one he hadn't used on her in a long time.

“I have been attending to your father for the past thirty-three years and have been loyally at his side when he has endured his lowest moments and achieved the unthinkable. So forgive me for thinking that I know him better than you do,” he jabbed the scroll in her direction. “Do not lecture me on how I should talk about him. We will talk about succession, princess, whether you like it or not.”

Kanade winced at his scathing remarks but decided to shut her mouth and let him rattle off about what would happen if she took the throne. The more the royal attendant talked, the more she realised that she did not want to become queen–desperately so. The responsibility of having an entire nation rely on her to keep them safe terrified her.

And even imagining what would happen during her crowning ceremony made her spine crawl. Having hundreds of thousands of people watching as a crown was lowered onto her head would be horrifying–especially as she wouldn't have anyone by her side considering her father would be… She let the thought die in her mind. He would be fine.

Now obviously, as the heir, she had been taught how to be a competent ruler. She often debated philosophy with her tutors and with her friends, and politics too if the situation wasn't too important. But after reading many history books until the wee hours of the morning, she knew good philosophers don't make good queens. And after many prosperous years with her father on the throne, she never considered the possibility of another person taking his place, as naive as it sounded.

Besides, she would have big shoes to fill. Her father became king when he was only fourteen years old and raised an already flourishing kingdom to new heights. Her father never particularly talked about the earlier years of his reign, she had heard from his attendant that they weren't exactly easy for him, but from what she could glean from years of listening in on castle staff’s conversations, it was an upward struggle of batting off noblemen vying for power and staying away other kingdoms who were looking to invade. Kanade was just three years older than he was but felt twice as incompetent. She was not a born leader, and the future of her kingdom should not have to lie on the shoulders of a philosophical musician.

The royal attendant was still prattling off about ceremonies she would have to manage once she was queen (which, still, wouldn't be happening any time soon, she reminded herself) whilst she stared at her father’s motionless body, yearning to reach out and grasp his hands and have him tell her everything would work itself out.

“Are you listening, Kanade?” he cleared his throat. “I know you've never held me in high regard, but you should show me some respect, girl.”

That turned some heads in the room.

But, that was just the sort of person Tano was. He was a human a similar age to her father with trimmed, dark greying hair and a penchant for evading people’s attention. He was the epitome of a wallflower, not speaking unless spoken to and the like. But what many people didn't know was that he was a major factor in the kingdom’s survival in the earlier years of her father’s rule with his terrifyingly accurate strategy and intelligent counsel. That's how he became his most trusted advisor; though after her mother’s passing, he stopped being around her father all the time, usually being delegated as guard outside the study or sent off to deal with minor political issues.

Additionally, in private, this seemingly unassuming attendant had a very sharp tongue, Kanade would come to learn. He was harsh and blunt to a fault, even if it meant insulting the king to his face. In that regard, he reminded her of Mafuyu, only wiser and more self-aware.

And as his discerning gaze bore into her skin, she was reminded of that fact. He was never exceptionally kind towards her, even as a child. Her current leading theory was that he was training her to be a good queen, which was being actively proven by their current conversation.

“I am, I am, I promise,” she rubbed her nose bridge in frustration.

He eyed her suspiciously but continued in his speech, and after about ten minutes of him reading from his scroll mindlessly, Kanade let her mind wander again. Was this what her father had endured all those years ago? A young Tano lecturing him on what to do? Would she have to resign herself to a life like that as well?

She didn’t know if styles of mourning passed on generations as commonly as something like their love of music, but if they did, she didn’t want her father to go anytime soon. Grief consumed her father as much as a wildfire ravages a forest, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. When her mother died, she thought a part of him also died with her. The shift happened when she was too young to particularly notice, but she saw the way older servants looked at him with such pity, the stories they would tell her of when he was younger. Kanade didn’t want to become that.

“I see you're not keen on listening to me,” he sighed irritably.

“Sorry, I…,” Kanade felt the last few days of lethargy crash onto her into that moment. “I can't do this right now. Not… Not whilst he has a fighting chance, all right?”

“As you wish, Kanade. And as much as you hate me for doing this, I need you to take into consideration my… care for the king also. I do not say it lightly when I bring up the possibility that he may pass in the coming months. You ought to be prepared for anything,” he rolled the scroll back up and for a split moment, she swore she could see his lip tremble. “I promised him I’d take care of you if anything happened to him.”

Kanade was overcome with a bout of great sympathy for him. She admitted that her attitude towards him was not appropriate considering Tano was an old friend of her father’s. Contrary to what he believed, she never hated him at any point in her life. In all honesty, she was a little scared of the man who knew so much more than she did about what it meant to rule a kingdom, whose grey eyes pierced her whenever she misbehaved or made life harder for her already busy parents.

“I’m so sorry,” she couldn't help a few tears welling in her eyes. “I just don't want him to die.”

He considered her for a few seconds before tentatively patting her shoulder.

“Neither do I. Stars, I don't want that man to die. He cannot,” he smiled bitterly. “So trust me when I say that this is for tradition and what your father wants me to do only.”

Kanade blinked tears out of her eyes.

“Later, Tano,” she shakily huffed a sigh. “Later.”

And he had obliged, assuring her that she hadn't shaken him off yet.

That brought her back to the present, where she had spent the rest of the day exhausted, stressed and deeply anxious for the months to come.

The royal physician was performing another check-up on her father, arms outstretched in front of her as she used her magic to get a clearer image of how his condition was faring.

Suddenly, the glow around her hands disappeared and she returned to reality with a puzzled expression on her face. She barked a few orders–littered with complicated medical jargon Kanade was not familiar with–to a few nurses. After a brief moment of similar observations, they returned with equally confused looks.

“What is it?” she asked apprehensively. “It isn't bad, is it?”

“In some ways it is good and in others it is terrible,” the physician said, worry lines deepening. “It’s complicated to explain to a non-sorcerer but the lethal aspect of the disease has remained the same but the size of it has increased.”

“So he's… Dying quicker?” she remarked woefully.

The royal physician glanced at her team who gave her blank stares in return.

“You're all useless,” she spat before addressing Kanade again. “Not inherently. I suspect there's something else afoot, I’ll personally monitor it over the next few days.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You?” she looked at her as if she was stupid and shrieked a high-pitched laugh. “I suppose you could start by soothing your father mentally–make him less disconcerted. His Majesty’s mental state is atrocious at the moment, we can't do a thing in his mind, I swear!”

This was met with similar hums of agreement from the nurses.

“How would I go about doing that?” Kanade urged, intrigued.

“Oh, it's simple. Talk,”

“Talk? Do you think me incompetent?” she snapped, patience running thin. She was starting to feel the missing hours of sleep now.

“Don't get like that, Your Highness,” she dismissed Kanade’s words with a wave of her hand. “You remind me of my daughter when she was young. No, talking about positive memories you both share can alleviate some of the mental pains your father is encountering at the moment. You can help him (and us) by doing just that.”

She was about to counter but was forced to admit that the doctor raised a good point.

“Fine,” she conceded and let her mind wander, searching for a good memory.

Then, her dream last night flashed in her mind, along with that picnic blanket. She knew exactly which one to tell. The only time we managed to have a holiday without it being politically motivated, she mused with the ghost of a smile on her lips.

“Do you remember when I was five years old and you took us to the outskirts of our kingdom?”

– – –

Kanade flinched when the sun’s rays assailed her eyes, desperately trying to blink away the afterimages as her mother gently guided her out of the carriage.

They had reached the last dirt road before the terrain turned into grassy moors that stretched on for miles and would eventually blur into the Asahina Kingdom’s territory. Her father had walked a few metres onto the plains, waving for them to come closer.

Her mother grasped Kanade’s hand and led them upwards.

Kanade thought that in all of her five years of living, that day had to be one of the best. It was the peak of summer, yet it wasn’t too hot or stuffy, it was mellow with patchy clouds strewn across the pale blue sky. She tried her best to avoid looking at the sun again, still afraid of having the light pierce her eyes. The servant bowed towards the family and returned to the front of the carriage and she noted how he was dressed much nicer than how they were at the moment. The standard royal servant uniform consisted of light magenta and gold trims outlining every garment, whereas she and her parents were not wearing a single piece of jewellery. Her father wore a simple tunic and wool trousers with a tall lute strapped to his back that made him look similar to the common people of the kingdom, minus the golden crown nestled into his grey, straw-like hair. Her mother appeared more regal, however, with a deep purple gown that squared off at the neckline and ended mid-shin, a parasol was clutched in her hands and was shading the pair from the sun’s rays; her father never cared much about the damage the sun could do to vampires and therefore never cared to bring his own protection from the assailing rays of light.

As for Kanade, well, she could not care less what she was wearing. Her mother’s lady-in-waiting usually picked something out for her and she would put it on without fanfare. She fiddled with the long, spring green fabric that attached to the main bodice of her dress and didn’t pay any more attention to it other than that.

Rather, she was far more interested in the basket her mother was holding. It consisted of many sheets of wicker woven into one another with a chequered blanket peeking from the top. She had seen the basket tucked away in their room gathering dust and was curious as to the reason they had decided to take it out today.

“What’s that basket for?” she asked.

“It’s to carry food and the blanket, dear,” her mother replied, hiking her skirt up to carry on uphill.

“Why?”

“Because your mother and I wanted to have a picnic,” her father slowed his pace down so the pair could catch up with him.

“What’s a picnic?”

Her parents glanced nervously at each other.

“What has she been learning about for the past few months?” her mother whispered towards her father.

“Elvish, Pialsey, mathematics, music theory and war strategy,” her father whispered back. “And what has she been reading?”

“Books on philosophy, culture and polynomials,”

“No children’s books?”

“No children’s books, love,”

Kanade’s father turned towards her with a mildly exasperated expression.

“A picnic is when a group of people bring food outdoors to eat together,” he explained, making sure he enunciated each word slowly.

“Why?”

Her parents exchanged another pensive glance before her mother unexpectedly burst out laughing, making Kanade jump. A small grin tugged at the corners of her father’s lips before he continued to walk ahead of them.

“What’s so funny?” Kanade asked, a little offended. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s just…,” she paused to stop laughing and yelled, “We haven’t been using Tano’s skillset enough, have we?”

Her father shook his head, already nearing the top of the mound.

“You know he would scare her half to death, sweet,” he smiled. “Now come up here!”

Her mother led her up the rocky hillside, ensuring to catch her whenever she tripped and give her a boost when there was a rock she found difficult to climb over–the hill was a lot steeper than it had looked from the carriage.

“What was that about Lord Tano?” Kanade said whilst stumbling slightly.

“Well sometimes we just wonder whether or not we should have left the child-rearing to him, is all,” she sighed. “We aren’t the best at parenting and he whipped your father into shape. That has to count for something.”

This struck her as very odd, and before long, she threw herself into a spiral of over-analysing her mother’s words.

“Does that mean you wish you weren’t my mother anymore?” Kanade sniffled, feeling her throat grow tight with tears.

“Of course not, Kanade,” she immediately knelt and combed a piece of Kanade’s hair behind her ear before wiping away the few droplets that ran down her face. “I am proud to be your mother. We both love you so very much.”

“Really?”

“Always and forever, dear,” she smiled warmly and stood up, guiding them to the precipice where her father stood.

“Are you making our daughter cry already?” he quirked an eyebrow, smirking.

“And whatever makes you think that?” she replied slyly, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Kanade stopped paying attention to their conversation as soon as she looked over the plains in front of her. The terrain was varied, with many mountains spread across the field and thin rivers snaking in between mounds. The pleasant wind that had been consistently blowing throughout the day, creating ripples of grass pushing and pulling like the tides of the ocean, rushed through her hair which tickled the back of her neck. Within the tall grass, she saw quick flashes of movement jolt in between the blades. Upon closer inspection, she discovered that the source of said flashes came from–

“Rabbits!” she exclaimed cordially, tugging on her mother’s sleeve. “Mother, look! There are so many of them!”

She looked over to where her daughter was pointing and hummed in acknowledgement.

“Yes, I see them,” she mused. “They have gorgeous fur colours.”

And she was right. A family of rabbits were huddled in the same general area, with fur in a wide array of patterns and colours. Though most of them were a combination of numerous colours she noticed a pure grey rabbit separated from the rest of the herd, nudging something with its nose and pawing at it intermittently. It took her a few seconds to process but after the patch of grass was exposed to the wind she realised what that rabbit was investigating.

A white rabbit with grey splotches lay dead in the grass. Bits of its throat were torn out and blood pooled on the surrounding patches of green. Its body looked like it was frozen in motion, arms and legs sprawled out in front and behind it as if it was running. Its lifeless, beady eyes looked into hers and she couldn’t help reciprocating its glare. Before she could say anything, her mother covered her eyes and asked if she’d seen anything. She shook her head vehemently, sensing she had done something wrong.

They walked away from the scene for what felt like miles. Her parents tried to sprinkle in small talk to distract her from the scene she had witnessed but the blood had already sewn itself into her mind. She wasn’t exactly scared or upset by the sight, quite the opposite really; she felt an odd sense of camaraderie about the entire thing.

When Kanade’s eyes were uncovered, she was standing on a small hill overlooking the endless plains of the Yoisaki Kingdom, a single cherry blossom tree standing staunchly at its peak.

“If you look out a little bit over there, can you see those dark purple patches?” her father asked, nudging her shoulder slightly.

She squinted, looking over the viridescent grass acutely, unable to catch any glimpses of purple. She was about to shake her head before she felt her father turn her head slightly west, and she caught sight of small mulberry hills in the distance.

“There they are!” she exclaimed enthusiastically, staring intently at her father for his approval.

He ruffled her hair. “That’s where the Asahina Kingdom starts. If you carry on going there, you’ll eventually get to the castle where your friend lives,”

She beamed upon the mention of her new friend, Mafuyu. They had met at a recent royal ball hosted by the queen of the Asahina kingdom–her first one to boot!–after being huddled together by the adults. Kanade thought every other young royal there was a bit stuffy and pompous apart from a Patchwork girl with purple hair who sat in the corner reading a book written in Elvish, the cover reading ‘Poetry and Other Such Short Stories’. It hadn't been a book she'd encountered before in her studies.

“I prefer songs written in Pialsey,” she had remarked bluntly, plopping herself next to her.

“Pialsey? I thought that was an extinct language,” the girl scrunched her nose in confusion.

“My mother told me some people still speak it in the South,” she replied with a know-it-all grin.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows and pouted slightly. “I've never read anything in Pialsey,”

“I could bring you some songs next time! I can translate the lyrics and sing them for you,”

“Wouldn't it be a little improper, though?” the girl hesitated, stealing a few glances at the queen, who was now conversing with Kanade’s parents. “Royalty isn't meant to sing like the common folk.”

“My father says it's an artist’s job to go against societal expectations, so I think we’ll be alright,” she smiled at her and the girl’s cold exterior broke a little.

“Can I bring some Elvish poetry?”

“Of course!” Kanade outstretched a hand towards her. “I’m Princess Kanade of the Yoisaki Kingdom, what's your name?”

“Princess Mafuyu, of the Asahina Kingdom,” the girl said whilst shaking her hand.

They had conversed for the rest of the night, stuck in their bubble for what felt like days.

“I want to see her again,” Kanade bemoaned to her father, crossing her arms.

“You will soon,” her mother informed. “I hear Queen Akiyama’s hosting another ball next month. Hers are always gorgeous, you know.”

Her mother tactfully pulled the blanket from within the basket and, with a quick motion, set it on the ground. She gestured for everyone to sit down and Kanade obliged gladly, her feet still aching from the distance they had walked.

Her father helped in taking the wrapped dishes from the basket and laying them in the centre of the cloth. Kanade pilfered through and scrunched her nose in disgust.

“Is it just sandwiches?” her body sagged sadly.

“Don't be picky, dear. The chefs worked very hard to make these,” her mother chided. Kanade scanned the simple-looking food items and doubted her mother’s claims but picked up a strawberry jam-filled sandwich and sunk her teeth into it anyway, just to make her happy.

Her parents chattered about boring political topics regarding the kingdom: who they were considering strengthening alliances with and settling trade disagreements with the Dimmantal Kingdom. Kanade thought that it would be more interesting if they talked about topics like war strategy, a subject she had enjoyed after she started being tutored. She off-handedly wondered if Mafuyu would also enjoy talking about battle formations and infamous wars throughout history.

“That's enough politics for today,” her father abruptly cut off the conversation. “This was meant to be a respite from kingdom duties, not a continuation of it.”

Her mother hummed in agreement.

“Right you are,” she said through a sip of elderflower cordial.

He grabbed the lute from behind his back and strummed it a few times in a quick up-up-down pattern he was known for doing.

“Any suggestions?” he asked with a grin.

“Oh, do Hiraeth!” Kanade suggested.

“Absolutely not, I don't want to cry on a day like this,” her mother rubbed her nose bridge. “How about Waltz of The Mellifluous Magpie?”

“Too long, Kanade would get bored after the first twenty minutes,” her father noted, which Kanade quickly reaffirmed by nodding her head. He sucked a breath through his teeth. “What about… The Ballad of King Taltan?”

She took a second to consider his proposal. It was a nonsense song about a fictional king going on a quest to find the bizarre snorkelflute. Most of the lyrics didn't make sense, making it a popular song amongst up-and-coming comedians in the kingdom and a rather unpopular choice amongst nobles. She had never heard it played live before but heard a lifetime’s worth of criticism of it from her music tutor. Her mother, being noble-born, screwed up her lips in disapproval.

“It is a little garish, no?” she remarked as neutrally as she could.

“Well,” he glanced knowingly towards his daughter, “a musician finds no issues with being garish at all.”

“I thought music was all about creating songs with meaning?”

“Nonsense songs are created for a reason–to have fun and, if our daughter agrees with me, you will see why,” he looked expectantly at Kanade and she responded with an enthusiastic smile.

The song started with a round of shrill chords strummed at an erratically quick pace, startling her mother. If Kanade listened hard enough, she could hear the thumping of feet and raucous laughter of a tavern the song was designed to be played in despite, naturally, never even coming close to one before. She giggled whilst clapping along to the beat.

The lyrics were just as confusing as the initial chords, being mainly comprised of made-up words and silly phrases with a wildly inconsistent pace. Anyone trying to decipher the meaning would be left baffled. But, she thought as she continued to laugh at her father’s over-dramatic performance of the song, to decipher the song was a disservice to the song itself. It was never meant to be ‘solved’, it was meant to be enjoyed.

From the corner of her eye, she could see her mother’s lips quirk up after a particularly egregious line and Kanade noticed the way her father’s face lit up at the gesture. He then purposefully played chords wrong and sang lines with the incorrect rhythm until he managed to wrangle a chuckle out of her. She rolled her eyes fondly after the laugh bubbled past her lips, knowing she had been defeated.

The song continued for a hearty six minutes, which Kanade enjoyed every second before her father finished with a quick flourish of notes. The pair clapped for his performance and her father looked expectantly up towards her mother, who raised a teacup to her mouth to hide her expression slightly.

“Well?” he asked provokingly.

“Well, what?” her mother dabbed her lips with a handkerchief, playing coy.

“Was it better than what you expected?”

“I…,” a smile bloomed across her dainty features and she sighed out a laugh. “I suppose it was, love.”

“I told you songs could be garish,” he said with a smirk.

“It depends on the person who plays it,” she conceded whilst placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

Kanade succinctly interrupted their moment by clearing her throat loudly.

“Could I have a go on the lute now?” she pleaded.

“You have been awfully fond of my lute, Kanade,” he remarked as he heaved the lute over his head. “If you’re not careful, the kingdom will think I’ve let you choose your main instrument early.”

Kanade pouted upon hearing that.

In the Yoisaki Kingdom, it was customary for royals to have the opportunity to select an instrument to become their main muse at the age of eighteen. It did not bar them from playing any other instrument, of course, but it was the instrument they were most likely depicted with within paintings or statues. Production and sales of the said instrument also tended to rise in the kingdom as well, which usually drew in a new audience of bards across the world entering and indulging in the prosperous Yoisaki Kingdom nightlife.

Her father had chosen the lyre for reasons he could never articulate fully. He said it just ‘felt right’ which perplexed Kanade deeply. Nevertheless, she could never pick only one instrument to be known for for the rest of her life, she liked them all too much.

“I don’t think so,” she grabbed the instrument from her father. “I think they will see it as me improving my musical talent.”

Although she was quite a bit smaller than him, she managed to grapple the large instrument around her shoulder and into her lap.

“I think that lute is too big for you,” her mother warned.

“It isn’t,” she quipped, wrestling the lute under her arms.

“It isn’t, she says,” her father echoed warmly.

After a few minutes of positioning her arms and legs in the correct place, Kanade managed to pluck out a few songs with great difficulty, to the point where she had to relinquish it back to her father, who, she noticed, was holding back a laugh the entire time.

The rest of the afternoon passed with little fanfare, with the few songs played here and there interspersed with conversations about minute, insignificant things like the weather and holidays they would take to different kingdoms if they were different people in different circumstances.

By the time they thought they should head back, the sky was dyed in homely warm colours. The heavens bled from the richest saffrons to the lightest waxberry yellows, and painted in between the thick layers appeared pink clouds that reflected the sun’s low glow that floated over the faint outline of the moon that started to emerge. The family took a moment to appreciate the view but decidedly moved on after a beat.

Kanade, however, rooted her feet into the ground to gaze at it for a few minutes longer, letting the sun’s setting rays buzz on her skin. At this time of the day in the palace, the curtains were being drawn and candles flicked to life in place of the setting sun, leaving her unable to look at the sun as it set across the horizon. The sunset sky always managed to leave her awe-struck.

Suddenly, a mysterious silhouetted figure dashed across the skyline, wings outstretched behind them. She raised a finger to point it out but a loud shout from her mother jolted her out of that trance.

“Come down, Kanade! We need to get back before nightfall,” she yelled whilst waving her arms.

And when she looked up again, the figure was nowhere to be found.

– – –

“I like that story in particular not because anything specifically joyous came of it,” Kanade said to her comatose father, “But because it was one of the only moments I’ve seen either of you be perfectly content. Not fretting over anything or worrying about me. I felt like we were, well, a family.”

The words tumbling out of her mouth felt a little cliched, but it was at the very least the truth.

The royal physician sniffed and outstretched her arms again, her vermillion magic tendrils working around his body. Her face transitioned from curious, to hopeful to mildly annoyed before she stopped the flow of magic.

“It’s too early to say for sure but…,” she tilted her hand side-to-side, “I would say you made a marginal difference.”

Marginal.

Those words stirred indescribable emotions in her chest, threatening to spill from her eyes. She had done something to help her father.

And for the first time in days, she felt a glimmer of hope burst from her heart. She helped him. Stars, she helped him. With words alone.

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but she swore that her father appeared more rejuvenated than before–his face becoming less gaunt, his breathing more deep and lively. She was so overcome with joy she could have wept, only she did not have the strength to after such a long day.

“As I mentioned before, any help we can get psychologically to influence him from the inside and on the outside is a massive boon, so thank you, Your Highness,” she patted Kanade on the back in a gesture much too maternal for her comfort. “Now hurry along with your nighttime duties. You need to rest after these hectic couple of days.”

Kanade ran a hand down her face and glanced outside. The sky had already darkened, absorbing the last bits of reddish sunlight into its shadow. She marvelled to herself how long it took to tell a story that seemed quite simple in her mind, perhaps she embellished a little too much. Added too many nuances in a tale that simply didn't need that much detail.

“For how long was I speaking?” she asked, throat buzzing with overuse.

“Only a few hours, Your Highness,” the physician replied.

“...Only?” Kanade let the realisation that she had entombed herself inside the medical room all day hit her in one fell swoop. Her joints ached as if she’d been tilling in the fields all day and her hunger brought her agonising stomach pain from not eating. She briefly sighed in relief that it was Ichika’s off day, otherwise she also would have been subjected to such self-torture.

“If I may speak freely?” the doctor inquired, a neutral if not slightly teasing expression peeking from behind her spectacles. Kanade gestured to suggest she go on. “You look terrible. Go rest, Your Highness.”

Her nurses appeared hesitant but shared a look amongst themselves that said they agreed with her. Kanade nodded in defeat and steadily hoisted herself from the stool she had perched on all day. Her eyes lingered on her father, who she left knowing he was in good hands.

Just persevere a little longer, Father, she thought to herself, this nightmare will be over soon.

– – –

For the first time in a very long while, Kanade dreamed for two nights in a row.

She opened her eyes to her dreamscape, now slightly nostalgic from her. She distantly wondered if the world was meant to emulate that experience she had shared with her parents all those many moons ago, with its grassy plains and perpetual state of sunset. However, she brushed it off as soon as the thought washed over her, her dreamscape was much more hilly and the sky reflected the sun’s rays as more pink than those orangey hues she had seen that day.

Images of that dead rabbit flickered in her mind but she pushed them down. They certainly wouldn’t make an appearance in her perfectly empty dreams.

As she took another plain stroll across the corrugated hilltops, she found herself walking back to the picnic blanket–in the same place as it was yesterday. However, she could see two silhouettes sitting decorously on it this time. Before she had a chance to think, she felt her legs start to sprint towards them, the physical labour easier due to the dream’s physics making her limbs glide like butter against the warm air.

When she finally came close enough to make out the pair’s features, her heart stuttered in her chest. The figure closest to her had long, pin-straight hair the same colour as her own and wore a deep, navy blue dress. It was her mother.

Close to tears, her legs threatened to give way but she managed to hold her emotional state together to utter the word–

“Mother?” her voice croaked past the tears building in her eyes.

The figure turned and her face resembled hers so greatly she collapsed onto her knees, reaching and grabbing at her mother’s blurred, celestial form–a gesture that was met by her mother wrapping her arms around her daughter’s shaking body in a warm hug. Kanade stayed weeping in her arms for a long time; she didn’t say a single word, but her embrace felt like she knew everything already–about her father and his condition and that it was all right to be scared. It was a hug so homely she could have lied there forever.

“Thank you,” her mother whispered in a voice as light as the breeze that rushed past their ears.

“For what, mother?” she frowned.

She abruptly pushed her daughter out of her arms. Then, in a burst of light, her form dissolved into a flurry of finches that parted into the heavens above. Kanade bit her lip and heaved a heavy sigh, letting the last of her tears trickle down her face bitterly. Of course. She was just a mirage.

She finally noticed the other figure sitting across from her, the one who was conversing with her mother. Naturally, it was the girl from her previous dream. Her clothes were different this time–supporting her theory that she was a visitor, not a character she made up–swapping her ordinary clothes for a servant’s uniform. But not just any noble house’s uniform, the Yoisaki Palace’s uniform in particular. A new servant this late in the year?

“Was this just a ploy to worm your way into my head?” her face tensed and she averted her gaze, hurt. “Don’t bother trying to psychologically torture me, you won’t get anything here.”

The girl shook her head vehemently.

“No, she was here when I arrived,” her voice was just as sweet as her face, to Kanade’s dismay. “I promise I wouldn’t do anything to harm you, Your Highness.”

She looked around nervously, a habit Kanade was starting to pick up on, and, before she could even reply, those raven wings sprouted from her back again. This time Kanade managed to wrap her hand around her wrist before she could take off, forcing her back into her sitting position. Her eyes flitted to hers in alarm.

“Who are you?” Kanade asked, letting her anger bleed into her voice.

“I’m no one important,” the girl answered.

“That can’t be true,” she shook her head. “I am a vampire of royal blood. It takes someone of high arcane skill to pierce my mind’s defences.”

The girl closed her eyes, a troubled expression on her face.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she shook her head.

“Then tell me why you are,” she said, her face deepening into a frustrated scowl. “If not to taunt me then why?”

“I can’t tell you, not now at least,” she wrenched her hands out of her grasp and placed them on either side of Kanade’s head, a gesture that jolted her out of her skin. “Now, sleep, Your Highness.”

The girl exhaled an ice-like cloud into her face which bellowed and shifted around her head. She could feel her body slowly slip out of her mind’s grasp and plummet to the ground in a loud thump. Her vision started to darken, the image of the girl taking flight into the sky was the last thing she saw before she slipped into sleep.

When her eyes blearily blinked open, she was awake in bed, in the same position she was lying in at the end of her dream.

She threw the covers off her in a frustrated motion and struggled to her feet. She would find that girl at any cost.

– – –

Kanade found herself at an impasse almost immediately.

Three days had passed since she had made that resolution, yet she had barely made any progress. This was half her fault, as she spent most of her time discussing political matters with Tano and passing bills in her father’s name or staying by his side in the medical chamber, begging for him to wake up.

The other half was due to a myriad of reasons (or perhaps excuses) outside of her control, a fact that vexed her deeply. The head of the servants, a kindly middle-aged faun, was a hard woman to catch. She never stayed in one place for too long and as soon as she thought she had caught her, she had already wormed her way out of her grip. That and her handmaiden were being particularly tight-lipped about any information she knew.

“May I ask you a question?” she had asked a mere two days ago.

“Of course, Your Highness. Anything,” Ichika bowed her head in acknowledgement.

“How close are you with your peers?” Kanade didn’t want to be too upfront too soon.

Her handmaiden stiffened suddenly, face hardening.

“I… I am close to a few. Not many, though. I tend to keep to myself,” she replied bluntly. “My apologies, Your Highness.”

“It’s of no concern, do not worry,” she assured before going in with a sharper approach. “Are you familiar with a servant who has light brown hair that ends around the shoulder blades, light blue eyes and is around the same age as us?”

“Ah… I’m not sure,” she said apologetically, averting her gaze guiltily.

“I believe she has black wings… if that narrows it down,”

Ichika’s eyebrows knitted together apprehensively. Kanade had no doubt left in her mind that she was withholding information from her.

“It doesn’t, I apologise, Your Highness,” her voice was a little anxious in tone, she could hear it quivering slightly.

This caused Kanade to drop the conversation entirely. Her handmaiden evidently knew the identity of the girl, but it seemed to bring her great pain to recall her. Kanade concluded that the girl must be as treacherous as she first presumed her to be when she conjured up that image of her mother to taunt her. Was she a spy? Perhaps an assassin? It was a possibility, then, that she threatened Ichika to keep her mouth shut whilst she infiltrated the ranks, perhaps she held her at knifepoint and told her she would slit her throat if word got out, or maybe she told her she would sell the information of their king’s wellbeing (or lack thereof) to neighbouring kingdoms and give them the perfect incentive to invade.

And that left her in the present. She had caught no sight of her yet and she hadn’t informed anyone of her hypothesis. She had dreamless nights since then, leading her to believe if she was an enemy of the crown, she was currently laying low, perhaps shocked at her reaction that night.

Kanade sat in her bed chamber’s alcove, head pressed against the window. In her lap sat a piece of parchment etched with musical notation, the piece she was still working on after all this time. She didn’t remember when she had started writing the piece, it was more so a collage of different bits of music she had crafted in her mind at various points of her life, but it had stuck with her through everything. Even when her mother died, she found joy in plucking the notes that didn’t seem to play just right.

It brought her into some sense of normalcy to work on it, even if she really couldn’t figure out why it sounded off to her.

Her mind still wandered back to the conversation she had with Ichika. She had learned to always expect the worst and so pondered on the girl’s motives further. The more she tried to twist it, the more she realised that her idea that she may be an assassin may be more accurate than she first thought. Perhaps word had spread that the king was gravely ill and his heir left by herself to run the kingdom (which wasn't true, of course, but rumours tended to grow and twist like that) and corrupt noblemen were now vying for the crown. She seemed to be a very powerful sorcerer and she very well may have been instructed to try to kill her from the inside.

Just as she was about to swing her legs off the window’s nook, she noticed a flash of brown hair from outside the window.

Her bed chamber was placed quite conveniently at the back of the castle, looking out towards the gardens, which blossomed quite beautifully this time of year. That, of course, meant that she had an excellent view of the palace’s servants who were attending to the gardens at that time; Kanade mentally kicked herself for not realising sooner.

Leaning her face as close to the window as she could, she tried to locate the brown hair again. It took her a few seconds but she caught a glimpse of her face as well as the rest of her hair, an exact replica of the girl she had seen those two nights. She threw herself onto her feet–it was a rash and idiotic thing to do, but she decided to meet this girl face-to-face once and for all.

She raced past her handmaiden, who she yelled at to stay put as she bounded down the stairs as quickly as her body physically could. She soon found out that she wasn’t built for labour-intensive tasks as she had to lean against a wall to recuperate her energy, leaving her panting and drenched in sweat.

Kanade scanned the gardens for the girl again and exhaled in relief once she saw that she hadn’t moved. Not bothering to catch her breath any further, she briskly walked towards her, too focused on the girl to notice the servants bowing and curtseying towards her or the light sting the sunlight echoed across her skin.

The girl was surprisingly a fair amount taller than her, forcing Kanade to lift her head to talk to her–an act that made her cheeks flush in embarrassment. Her hair was drawn up into a high ponytail and the sleeves of her uniform were drawn up to her elbows. Her face was still the same though, with those same glittering eyes she couldn’t help but stare at.

“Are you the girl from my dreams?” Kanade asked a little too sharply, startling the girl from her work.

The girl apprehensively turned towards the princess, her features still as delicate as the first time she laid eyes on them. The girl shook her head weakly, and before Kanade could even open her mouth to say another word, she spun herself around on the heel of her boot and bolted the other way.

Kanade’s heart sank at the implied admission of guilt. She was trying to kill her.

– – –

Kanade was beginning to wonder if she had inadvertently pleased the fae that day.

As she was returning to her bed chamber with a heavy heart after that failed chance encounter, she managed to bump into the head housekeeper as she was walking out. Just as she was about to curtsey, she outstretched her hand to tell her to stop.

“I must ask you a question, Ms Aoki,” she said.

“Anything you ask of me, I will try to answer to the best of my ability, Your Highness,” she responded with a warm smile that always reminded her of her mother.

“What is the name of the female servant who has light brown medium-length hair, and blue eyes and is around sixteen years of age?”

The head housekeeper considered that question for a few beats and pursed her lips, running through all the names of hundreds of servants in her mind.

“How tall is she?” she decided to say.

“About a hand’s breadth taller than me,”

“Yes, yes, I know who you’re talking about, Your Highness,” she shook her head fondly. “Her name is Honami Mochizuki, she’s quite new and about a year younger than yourself. She’s incredibly good at her job if that’s a concern.”

“No, it’s not that,” she replied bluntly. “Is she known for being rude or argumentative? Perhaps to my handmaiden Ichika Hoshino?”

The faun erupted in a burst of giggles before she caught herself and flushed a bright pink.

“Ah, my apologies, Your Highness, your question caught me a little off guard,” her voice carried with it a plea of forgiveness. “You see, Honami is one of the sweetest girls I know, and she’s practically attached to the hip with your handmaiden Ichika. As soon as they both get off work they both saunter off into town, joking and talking about Stars knows what.”

This left an unpleasant feeling in Kanade’s chest–it was as if she had been stabbed in the heart with a dagger. She felt lied to, betrayed perhaps, and questioned why on earth Ichika had been so hesitant to tell her the truth.

Similarly to Tano, Ichika came from a long line of servants who had dedicated themselves to the crown for thousands of years. Their firstborn (or, if no child was born after the heir turned five, a relative who could receive the same training) would be raised together alongside the crown heir and they would then start to serve them full-time at the age of sixteen. From personal, life-long experience, Kanade knows that her handmaiden wouldn’t lie to her or align herself with a traitor.

But still, doubts crept into her mind–as they always seemed to do. She had never particularly been close to Ichika when they were younger, perhaps meeting once every fortnight to attend a class together or briefly bow to each other when passing alongside their guardians. Who is to say she didn’t spend the majority of her adolescence conspiring against the king where she had met Honami? And that would explain the weird behaviour she had been displaying as of late. Not only did she seem to dodge that question from before, but she also seemed particularly on edge at the end of her shifts.

Seeming as it was nearing the end of the week and the servants ended their work later that day, Kanade decided to do something as idiotic as confronting her mysterious dream girl–follow Ichika.

– – –

Once the hush of the evening finally came over the palace, Kanade started to enact her plan.

She had a limited amount of time to prepare, considering Ichika would be preparing to leave for home (or whatever place she was headed to) momentarily. She rummaged through her wardrobe to find a dress more suited for the occasion–namely a brown dress and cotton tunic hidden near the back.

Her mother's lady-in-waiting, much like her mother, was a very cautious, paranoid woman. Afraid Kanade would be at risk of assassination, she prepared clothes similar to the common people that would help her blend in more if she needed to make a daring escape into the town centre. As she brushed the dust off the coarse material, she couldn't help but remark how plain it was compared to the dresses she usually wore, even sitting next to them it stuck out like a sore thumb.

As she slipped into it, she glanced at her long hair in the mirror and decided to tie it up in a bun-like shape to keep it out of the way and mainly to mask her most identifiable trait. In all of her portraits, the royal artist always felt the need to place great emphasis on her snow-white hair that trailed down her body and stopped at her knees.

Kanade never understood why it was such a great feature about her but, seeming as half the kingdom knew their princess had lengthy hair, it was necessary to at least attempt to mask it in some way. She toyed with her fringe absentmindedly as she considered her newfound shorter hairstyle. There was never a particular reason why she never bothered to cut it; she just didn't care, and no one around her bothered to point it out.

Lastly, she layered a cloak over her shoulder to conceal her features as she crept through the castle and then, hopefully, towards the town’s streets–a fact she was now coming to realise may be more problematic than she thought. She was trained in self-defence (as appropriate for someone who will undoubtedly experience numerous attempts on her life in the future), but as she hadn't fought someone properly outside of friendly duels, she was less than prepared to ward off people with malicious intent. If someone tried to kidnap her she wouldn't be sure if she could fend for herself.

She hesitated as she was about to turn the handle. Was it worth risking her life to find this girl? Kanade shook her head. All of the castle’s staff should be focused on protecting her father, this was a burden she had to deal with by herself. It was within her dream she chose to appear, perhaps she left a trace only she could sense, anyway.

She tapped her magic reserves deep within the confines of her heart and was relieved to feel that there was at least a little power stored. If the worst were to happen, she could always slip away in her bat form.

Just to be safe, she shuffled back into her room and opened a chest filled with rarities from beneath her bed. She pulled out a silver dagger and tucked it into a holster on her right leg. Now she was properly ready.

“I cannot believe I’m doing this,” she whispered under her breath whilst closing the door behind her.

The first minor obstacle would involve exiting the palace grounds. As today’s work ended earlier than usual for all servants, many of them were leaving at the same time, which presented the perfect opportunity for Kanade to disguise herself as another one of the castle’s staff.

Thankfully, there weren't any people around her room or in the corridors she snuck through to make it to the servants’ side. She effortlessly slipped into the clusters of people exiting the castle, evading the watchful stares of the guards lining the walls.

She could only celebrate this victory for a brief moment as when she stepped foot into the chill air she was promptly stopped by a footman outside the palace gates.

“Excuse me, miss, I do not believe I have seen you in the castle before,” he remarked with a suspicious lilt to his voice.

“That's because I’m new, sir,” she replied nervously, blood roaring in her ears.

“I thought the palace wasn't hiring this time of year?”

“They aren't but…,” Kanade sincerely hoped the head housekeeper wouldn't mind her telling this lie, “My aunt is Miss Aoki, you see. She gave me this position despite it not being public knowledge.”

The footman glared at her for what felt like hours but eventually accepted her lie and returned to his position. She let out a massive sigh of relief and practically melted on the walls of the gate, she had done it; miraculously, she had escaped the palace! She placed a hand on her heart and felt its beat return to normal–she was one step closer to figuring out this mystery.

She loitered around the gates until a familiar head of navy blue hair passed her. Ichika appeared impetuous, she noted, as her handmaiden drew her shawl tightly around her shaking shoulders–it was certainly cold outside, more than usual, but it didn’t warrant the amount of trembling her frame seemed to suggest.

She was quite jittery and on edge too, a co-worker tried to approach her but she snapped her head to the side with a face with such revulsion, that the servant peeled away from the conversation more or less immediately. Kanade pressed herself off the wall she was leaning on, now more suspicious than before, and trailed behind her handmaiden.

She was not not unfamiliar with the city outside her home. Most outings involved being carted around in a carriage, which led to her being more accustomed to the comfortable feeling of wood under her feet rather than the hard cobblestone of the pavement, so she had seen the certain passageways coachmen preferred to go down–but not much else other than that. The town's core consisted of thin, stoic-looking homes placed side by side with stores peppered between them. Their facades depicted logos designed for tailors and jewellers and the odd sweet shop, etched in light pinks and purples which juxtaposed against the grey surfaces of the walls that glowered around them. Her mother often frequented a few such stores with her when she was younger but she hadn't visited one in years. It was an honest shame, she could afford to visit them more often.

Kanade was never particularly a furtive individual. Much to her etiquette tutor’s behest, she could never walk with the poise of a princess; every book that was placed on her head found its way onto the floor, and every piece of furniture in her room had carved either a permanent scar or a bruise onto her body. Even when it came to a more interesting subject like fencing, her form was sloppy and her stamina was shockingly pathetic.

Yet, even as she tripped over her own feet and kicked many a few boxes over, Ichika failed to notice the trail of destruction the princess was laying in her wake as if she was entranced by whatever activity she was to engage with that night. Surprisingly, though, she branched off the main town centre and snaked through cramped, dimly lit alleyways into the slums of the kingdom, certainly far away from her home.

The Hoshinos were treated very well by the royal family, so they took residence in larger homes near the castle’s grounds. Kanade hesitated, back pressed against a wall–if she continued to follow her handmaiden down these pathways, she would be entirely out of her element as she led her to potentially dangerous places with malicious people who might want her dead. As she peered down the alleyway and saw Ichika’s form slowly shrink further into the distance, an instinct nestled in her heart told her to follow.

When they both appeared on the other side, she couldn’t even recognise the city she was standing in. Kanade knew the capital had an affluent side and a distinctive rougher underbelly, but she didn’t know how decrepit the slums had grown over the years. The buildings’ once sturdy brick walls were starting to crumble and the paved roads were cracked and sewage-stained. There was a thick layer of coal dust coating every surface and the stench around the narrow walkways was almost unbearable. Still, Ichika appeared unphased and carried on walking with that stern sense of purpose. Perhaps a hideout of sorts? Kanade mused whilst trying to avoid the muddy, coal-filled water that rushed past her feet.

That brought her to another train of thought, she never could have believed how bad the underbelly could be in person! It was something that never occurred to her as she stayed in the castle all day–it must be brought up to her father when he woke up, she thought as she trudged on behind her, it was terrible that people had to live in these falling apart homes with no other choice. The crown had the money, it was a perfectly feasible thing to do, so her only question was why? Why hadn’t her father tried to fix it already? She shook her head in dismissal, it was a subject she could ponder on further when she wasn’t trailing another person.

Eventually, they reached a small street with grimy terraced houses with barely functioning infrastructure and mould patches growing from damp spots in the cracks of the brick. Ichika snuck her way to the house on the very end of the street and knocked three times in a very particular sequence. A quick knock first followed by a long pause and two slow knocks–one after the other.

An older woman with a limp met her at the door. She peeked her head out the door briefly to converse with Ichika and invited her in. Kanade took this an opportunity to snake her way to the door and loitered by it, hopefully catching bits of conversation before someone came across her and alerted the authorities.

“It didn’t work, she was still the same,” Ichika’s voice said. There were footsteps and an elderly, croaky voice responded.

“Like I said, girl, you aren’t likely to find a herb capable of doing what you asked for,”

A herb? Was this an apothecary?

“I know but… Couldn’t you do something?” there was a hint of desperation in her voice that caused Kanade’s ears to prick up.

The woman shrilly laughed into a hoarse, wheezing cough. “I’ll see what I can do, but the king won’t be happy,” there was the sound of jars clinking together.

Kanade’s heart sank. Did that mean the worst conclusion was true? That Ichika had been planning for her assassination? As her handmaiden, she had the responsibility of testing her food for any poisons and therefore had easy access to it. It wouldn’t be too farfetched to assume that she may have been trying to put whatever herbs she was handed into the food she was given.

“Damn the king and his laws on dark magic,” she snapped in return, which came as a great shock for Kanade. “I need to help her, even if it means becoming a criminal.”

Naturally, she doesn’t want to limit the free speech of her citizens, but her handmaiden had never displayed such visceral opinions on the crown before–she had to bring it up in a conversation later. However, it seemed she had come to conclusions too quickly and the apothecary wasn’t crafting a poison, but, of course, that begged the question of what she was making.

The apothecary screeched into a bout of giggles as she ground herbs in a mortar and pestle. “Oh, you and your childhood friends. Well, if this doesn’t work then your friend… What was that beast of a girl called again?” she said gruffly.

“She’s not a beast,” Ichika dismissed immediately. “Her name is Shiho and you will refer to her as that unless you do not want to receive my patronage any longer.”

The woman snorted another laugh. “Yes, yes. If this doesn’t work for Shiho then she might need to visit someone with a little more expertise than I do.”

“So I’m paying you to throw me off to somebody else,”

“Don’t be silly, girl,” the apothecary tutted. “This potion is sure to remedy the… issues we’ve had in the past. But, hypothetically, if it doesn’t work then you can visit…”

Their conversation lulled into hushed whispers even Kanade’s enhanced hearing couldn’t pick up. But, a potion… That was something that her studies didn’t teach her. Potions were a grey topic when it came to sorcery–to put it plainly, they had a bad reputation. Some potions were legal, like most medicinal ones used to numb pain and boost the immune system, but most were not, especially ones that transfigured the body, for instance.

The thought of reporting the apothecary to the authorities crossed her mind but she shut it down immediately, she would first get the facts fully in order before pointing any fingers; if Ichika was doing this for a good cause then she may just turn a blind eye to it. Besides, it would be incredibly suspicious for the princess of a kingdom to be randomly aware of the crime happening in the slums.

“Could you write that down for me?”

“Naturally,” the woman said. “I’ll get the cauldron ready. You can come back in an hour.”

There was a pause in the conversation in which the apothecary sighed deeply.

“You aren’t leaving, are you?” she remarked tiredly. “So paranoid, you are…”

“It’s a necessity. I want to make sure you aren’t tampering with the ingredients,”

“Why do I take on customers as ungrateful as you?”

Then, there was silence.

Kanade knew that they were probably glaring daggers into each other, but couldn’t find the energy to care. She had to first analyse the details she had just learned of–starting with the purpose of Ichika’s visit. From what she could gather, her handmaiden had come to this apothecary’s home to order some form of potion from her, an illegal one at that, meaning that it wasn’t for medicinal purposes. To ‘help’ someone… That raised a few concerns inside her head but none of them inherently suggested Ichika was guilty of anything other than dark magic, a subject that never seemed to bother her as much as it did her parents. And that line of thinking would turn to the identity of that Shiho character and their involvement with Honami.

It was at that particular moment Kanade wished she had spent more time with her handmaiden outside brief small talk and orders–but that wouldn’t get her anywhere. It was clear they were close but she couldn’t tell anything from that minute nodule of information. Ichika was an only child to her knowledge and she never talked about her personal life– and that was if she was ever talking at all.

Still, there was nothing she could do but wait, and wait she did. For the next hour, the crown princess did nothing but sit outside the door and consider every life choice she had made up to that point, such as: what if she hadn’t become friends with the rest of her group? Would she be a shell of who she is today? And naturally, all things led to that fateful night almost a week ago. She thought about how just a few hours before the worst night of her life she was joking with her friends, laughing with them, being so jovial when just a handful of hours later her father would be dead–

The word struck her like a blade piercing her stomach. Dead. She hated it. She wanted it banned, scrubbed out the dictionary entirely–her father was not going to the afterlife anytime soon. He would not be another star she would see in the sky and mourn like her mother. But… if he did, it would be all her fault–

Ichika burst out the door, a frustrated expression on her face. It seemed they had taken their argument out of earshot as she stormed out the door with a mason jar of ashy yellow liquid. Kanade thanked her good wits when she decided to continue her long wait to the small gap between one of the many houses instead of on the apothecary’s porch like a helpless street urchin.

Kanade sincerely hoped she wouldn’t take that murderous anger out on her.

– – –

Kanade continued to trail her handmaiden, attempting a little harder to be more careful despite her clumsiness. Their next destination was at a location much nicer than the slums, though it hung a little ways between the two. It was a fully detached home in a hidden nook of the city, separated from any other building by about half a mile. The house looked a little older–as if it was constructed at the start of the century with its thatched roof and sturdy stone walls, but it didn’t look bad in any sense of the word. If anything, it looked quite homely and welcoming.

Ichika slipped through the door noiselessly and the home seemed to light with conversation. After this was all said and done, Kanade ought to ask her handmaiden how she seemed to sneak through the streets with such deftness she could evade the most attentive of palace guards. She pressed her ear against the wooden door, scrounging out any stray words that bled through them.

“I brought something for you,” Ichika said. “Hopefully it’ll work this time.”

There was a sound of fabric rustling.

“Thank you,” a deeper voice replied. “I doubt it will, though.”

“You can’t say that Shii, I’m sure something will happen this time,” a strangely familiar voice affirmed. “And if it doesn’t we will keep trying until we do, all right?”

“Sure…,” the deeper voice said, unconvinced of her friend’s statement. “What time is it now?”

“Just two minutes shy of midnight,” Kanade shivered. It was that girl–Honami Mochizuki.

She could hear ‘Shii’ drink the concoction Ichika brought her. There was a brief silence afterwards that felt tense, even from outside the door.

“Well?” Ichika hesitantly asked.

“I don’t feel any different..,” ‘Shii’, evidently Shiho, remarked, which led to audible sighs of disappointment from the other girls. “I guess we won’t know until–well, you know.”

Kanade chewed the side of her cheek anxiously. No, she did not know what event they were currently waiting for, and to be entirely honest she was scared stiff about what it could be. She wasn’t particularly well versed in potions and other forms of witchcraft but she was familiar with history–history that told about potions imbued with dark magic ruining people’s lives irreparably. Perhaps that woman Ichika was visiting prepared potions of a body-morphing nature and perhaps this Shiho figure was the only person who had the mana capabilities to channel the potion around her body and make good use of it, like in the castle where her father and herself were as vulnerable as anything.

But that wouldn’t explain why they were waiting for a specific moment, potions worked instantaneously if not for medicinal use, so, unless they weren’t particularly bright, they may not have been all that malicious after all. And Honami was easily the most capable of sorcery in that room, so why would they need to delegate it to another person?

Sighing, Kanade stepped back from the door, worried about the implications but satisfied enough in their innocence to leave it for tomorrow. She heard a loud scrape against the floor and looked down to see that her heel had pushed back a wooden crate lying outside. She cursed under her breath.

“What was that?” Honami asked, alarmed.

For some stupid reason, her legs wouldn’t move. She begged her body to just take off into the night and forget this incredibly ill-planned plot altogether–stars why had she been so damn curious in the first place? She heard a few footsteps coming towards her and screwed her eyes shut when the door creaked open ever so slightly.

Suddenly, a loud growl erupted from the house and Kanade snapped her eyes open. Ichika had been the one to open the door and was just a couple of seconds away from uncovering her secret observer’s identity.

“It didn’t work,” Ichika mumbled, letting go of the door to run up towards whatever was inside.

There was another loud groan and a noise that sounded suspiciously like a howl.

“It’s going to be alright, Shiho, just… just hold on a little longer,” Honami exclaimed over the noise.

Kanade finally got her legs to start moving until she crashed into the doorframe. As expected, Honami and Ichika stood near the room’s edges with their uniforms still on. A faun girl with blonde hair worn in two long pigtails stood nearby; she looked incredibly familiar, and quite well off, judging by the noblewoman’s gown she was wearing. In the centre of the room kneeled a girl with grey hair, her head pressed against the ground so her face couldn’t be seen. The grey-haired girl let out a scream of agony as her skin contorted and grew underneath her clothes, with grey fur eventually melding with the fabric and absorbing it like water to a sponge. That fur… This girl had to be a–

“Werewolf?!” Kanade gasped.

The three girls whipped their heads around to stare at her.

“Y-Your Highness?” Ichika and Honami sputtered at the same time, confusion etching their features.

Before anybody could properly process each other’s identities, Shiho had since completed her transformation. Her body was completely unrecognisable from the glimpse Kanade caught of her, she had since doubled in size, taking up the majority of the floor with her writhing, wriggling form. She was covered head to toe with light grey fur, the same colour as her hair, with sharp, black claws that scraped down the floorboards, causing splinters to fly off the wood like darts from a crossbow. Shiho abruptly jerked her beast-like head upwards from the foetal position she was in, baring her fangs at the perceived intruder–her.

Kanade leapt backwards but the werewolf was faster than her, lunging at her and toppling her to the floor before she could even react. She tried her best to wrestle her biting fangs away from her but was struggling immensely, if she didn’t get her off her soon, Shiho would surely tear a chunk from her neck.

Just as the wolf was starting to overpower her, the weight was lifted off her with a loud thump on the floor to the left of her. Kanade turned to see that it was Honami who had saved her. The girl had tackled the werewolf to the ground in a surprising display of strength, wrestling with the wolf until her attacks weakened into gentle bats–Shiho in her werewolf form must still recognise her friends, then.

Once she could restrain her movement with just a hand, she glanced back at Kanade.

“Are you all right, Your Highness?” she questioned whilst trying to bat Shiho’s claws away from her.

“I’m fine, thank you for your concern, Miss Mochizuki,” she replied, making Honami flinch back in shock. Right, she doesn’t know how Kanade knows her name. She would have to tell her later.

It had been a cloudy evening in the kingdom–it was drab, grey and a little rainy, terrible, really–which meant that the moon had been covered the majority of the night.

However, in a cruel twist of fate, the wind was not in her favour that night. There was a sudden, chill breeze that rushed past her face in a shrill shriek and the clouds covering that very moon flew away with it. A gorgeous white sphere shined down on her, taunting her.

It didn’t take long for Shiho to bathe in the moonlight and howl monstrously at her newfound strength. With a low growl, she tore free from Honami’s arms and leapt straight at Kanade’s jugular vein, graced with the immense power it blessed her with. Luckily for Kanade, she was more alert this time around and swiftly shifted into her bat form. It felt unnatural after not doing it for however many years, what with the sound of crunching bones and mana leaking from her body like a puncture wound, but she soon stabilised once the cloud of mana faded and she was a few feet off the ground.

She glided up to the roof and perched on the edge–savouring the way the wind pirouetted around her wings and how her claws stretched around the roof’s tiles. After thousands of years of the Yoisaki line suppressing vampiric qualities, Kanade felt free to lavish in her other form’s grace and agility. She would be lying if she said it didn’t feel good to embrace her powers.

“I highly suggest you leave, Your Highness,” Ichika called out. “I’ll explain in the morning, just go!”

As Kanade was about to take flight, she heard a high-pitched shriek coming from below. Shiho had since started to turn on her associates, and was growling at the blonde and pink-haired girl from before–she was propped up on her hind legs and stood at least a few feet taller than her.

“Saki!” Honami exclaimed, and suddenly she realised why she had been so familiar. She was the Tenmas' second born! Well, heir now since the actual heir had decided to temporarily relinquish his noble duties to join a travelling circus. She recalled seeing the girl at the castle when they were both very young, their parents talking about a whole plethora of mundane topics that bored them both to tears. Kanade recalled sharing glances with the disinterested-looking girl and giggling to herself, they were just as sick of their parents as the other.

Saki Tenma pressed her back towards the wall, attempting to mutter weak assurances to the werewolf to little effect–Shiho bared her teeth and snarled just the same. Kanade felt a sense of guilt about the entire situation; how did she get to leave without consequence whilst these girls were left in danger because of her? Then, the memory of the flash of her silver dagger seeped into her mind and she slowly started to realise she wasn’t as helpless as she first thought.

She swooped down to the ground towards Saki and released the hold she had over her mana, unfurling her out of her bat state. In a mess of fabrics and flesh, she dropped to the floor in a low crouch, snatching the knife from the holster and holding it in front of her. Shiho hissed away from the silver metal, backing away slowly from the pair.

“What are you doing here, Your Highness?!” Ichika hissed with urgency. “It’s not safe!”

“I appreciate your concern but I know what I’m doing, Ichika,” Kanade replied sternly.

And it wasn’t a total lie, she supposed, if reading history books involving werewolves counted as personal, hands-on experience. Silver was the thing that warded them off in their wolf forms if she recalled correctly, so her current plan was to just wave her dagger around until she either left or somehow regained control of her animal form.

Now Kanade was thinking about it, it wasn’t much of a plan at all. She grimaced, she was in a lot more danger than she anticipated.

The werewolf soon regained her wits and set her sights on knocking the knife out of Kanade’s hands. Before her hulking figure could come close, however, Honami had leapt from where she was standing to grab and roll the princess away from Shiho. They tumbled on the floor for a beat before Honami pinned her hands down on either side of Kanade’s head, effectively stopping their spinning before it could get out of control. Honami pivoted off her body before she could process how close their faces had been–how suddenly her eyes met light blue horizons carrying a billion constellations in them. She sat up hastily, her sweet, apple perfume still lingering around her nose.

“I’m going to ask Your Highness to do something very stupid but you’re going to have to trust me,” Honami had already hoisted herself onto her feet and stared down at Kanade unwaveringly.

“And that would be?”

“I need you to dig that dagger of yours into her body,” she said humorlessly. “Shallowly, of course.”

“Pardon?” if Kanade’s heart wasn’t on the verge of exploding, she would’ve chuckled. “I’m not keen on harming your friend who is already quite intent on murdering me.”

“I know it sounds moronic but just amuse me. I have a hypothesis,” she outstretched her hand and Kanade grabbed onto it clumsily. “Trust me, Princess, please.”

For some reason, the gentle grip of her hand curling against hers strangely assured her, as if it was a kind embrace. The image of her mother in her dreamscape flickered in her mind and she quickly dismissed the grasp, letting go as soon as she was back on her feet.

The werewolf reared her head towards the pair and let out a skin-crawling howl.

“Now!” Honami yelled, slightly pushing Kanade.

She approached the beast cautiously, moving in tandem with her footsteps in a circle. Just as Kanade was about to lunge forward, the werewolf pounced towards her right hand and tried to bite at her wrist. Luckily, she was a mere nanosecond faster and flung her arm away from her fanged mouth, quickly using the opportunity to swing the knife towards her furred neck. Shiho sprang out of her way, still cautious and ever-sensitive towards the silver blade.

The wolf careened to her hind legs and loomed over her whilst gnarled, mangled claws extended from her hands in a sharp wave of her wrist; she had to have been a whole foot taller than her–not particularly encouraging when she was trying to essentially stab her.

Shiho leered towards Kanade and swung her claws at her throat, grazing her pale skin as she tumbled away from her form in a mess of ruffles. Kanade’s hand shot up to the blazing pain at her throat and felt that it was thankfully just a small scratch–her hand still came away covered in crimson blood, the liquid pouring over her dress in dark red splotches. Somebody was calling her from the sidelines, but she couldn’t hear them over the sound of her own heartbeat roaring in her ears. She had to end this–quickly.

She rose to her feet and twirled her knife in her hand, thinking of how best to attack the wolf’s body. Suddenly, the beast lunged towards her in a ferocious pounce, much like how a cat hunts for a mouse. Kanade winced as she ducked, not daring to look as she thrust the blade upwards against Shiho’s exposed stomach whilst swerving out beneath her. She didn’t know whether to be disgusted or relieved when she could feel the wolf’s tepid blood rain down on her dress.

The werewolf collapsed heavily on the group, panting roughly as she bled. Kanade rushed to her side, nervous that she had, well, killed her. She didn’t have a lot of medical know-how, that was reserved for the royal physician, so she couldn’t read how badly she had harmed her–her blood still ran cold all the same, though, when her breaths suddenly shuddered as if she was breathing her last. She clasped her hands together and prayed to the stars that she would be alright; she couldn’t be responsible for two people getting gravely hurt.

Kanade swore she could see Shiho’s body shrink a little. As the wolf growled weakly, she rubbed her eyes–which she realised too late just rubbed more blood into her already irritated eyes–and realised the werewolf was gradually shrinking and contorting back into the figure of a girl. By the time the other three processed what had just happened and ran over, it was no longer the lumbering werewolf body that lay there, but a human’s. Honami crouched beside Shiho and let inky black magic flow from her hands, surveying the damage the blade had done.

“The wound isn’t deep, she’ll be fine,” she reported, which made the other girls sigh in relief. Honami looked up at Kanade and gave a feeble grin. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

Kanade brushed the gratitude off. “You know healing magic?”

“Ah, yes, well, my grandmother said it would be a useful skill to learn if I want to work in the palace so…,” she nervously glanced off to the side.

“Then your grandmother was a wise woman,” Kanade sighed before turning to Ichika and Saki. “Does anyone want to explain what happened?”

“Well that depends on how much you know, Your Highness,” Ichika replied bashfully.

Kanade pursed her lips as she realised she would have to explain what she was doing out here in the first place. Honami looked upwards from her crouched position and gave her an anxious look, shaking her head.

“I… I had been noticing that you were behaving oddly as of late, Ichika, and I worried that you had been–” Kanade cut herself off, noticing how paranoid her actual reason made her seem. “In trouble, is all.”

She, all of a sudden, felt very oafish. Did she actually believe that they were conspiring over the crown from something so… petty? She resisted the urge to rub her face, still aware of the blood coating it–maybe the entire situation with her father had affected her more deeply than just emotionally. Images of her father sobbing over her mother’s body flickered in her mind and her breath hitched, perhaps she was right; perhaps her grief was generational and she’d be swallowed up by it in no time at all.

Still, she didn’t trust Honami. Anybody with that level of mana control couldn’t be trusted, especially if they used it against a royal. If she wasn’t conspiring to kill her, she was certainly conspiring to do something else.

“I apologise for making you worry, I can assure you that I am well. However, I cannot say the same for my friend who you have… incapacitated tonight,” Ichika said.

“I see…,” Kanade chewed her lip nervously.

“We’ve been trying to find her a remedy for her monthly transformations, Your Highness,” Saki jumped in. “Please don’t think badly of her or Shii.”

“Do not think your princess is that unforgiving, Lady Tenma,” she said, to which Saki nodded appreciatively in response. “Why were you dabbling in the dark arts in the first place?”

“Erm,” Ichika glazed hesitantly at Saki who simply shrugged her shoulders. “You are familiar with how werewolves transform, correct?”

“Of course,” Kanade replied confidently, despite not knowing a thing. Werewolves were quite a rare race, making it tough to read about them outside of storybooks and whatever history they were involved in. An old werewolf queen in the west was slain by her people with a silver blade–that’s all she had to go on.

“Shiho has this unknown, let’s say, condition, which makes transformations very unpleasant to go through, in terms of the actual process of going from a humanoid to a wolf and her experiences whilst in her wolf form,” Ichika laced her fingers together. “It makes her more aggressive and volatile. Since lycanthropy is already a niche subject of research, the laws regarding soothers are a little…”

“Restrictive, at times, and the strength of those soothers need to be doubled to restrain Shii,” Saki filled in, clearly not caring about the very illegal implications of that. “Oh–was I not supposed to say that?”

“No, please continue,” Kanade urged. It’s not to say she didn't care about the law, but she was a lot more flexible about things like dark arts, especially since vampires specialised in that sort of thing anyway.

“So, where was I… Right, they're restrictive and it's not easy to find a book explaining how to create soothing potions for transmutations considering the distribution of such items is, well, against the law,” Ichika pursed her lips for a beat. “So we had to outsource it.”

“Which explains that odd apothecary,” Kanade said, which earned her a brisk nod from Ichika.

“Though this month’s batch seemed to make it worse,” Saki frowned.

“But then how come it ended a lot quicker?” Ichika bounced back and Saki paused in thought. “I just don’t understand how it made her feel worse but then stop it a few minutes afterwards.”

“It was thanks to Her Highness, mostly,” Honami interjected, causing everyone to stop their talking.

“How–How so?”

“The apothecary intentionally missed the silver out of the potion,” Honami said. “She’s tricky like that. As expected from my grandaunt.”

Ichika gaped at Honami. “You shouldn't be saying that in front of–,”

Kanade could fill in the blanks. She didn't know whether to be offended or laugh.

“I don't mind, I know Her Highness will understand,” she interrupted and Kanade couldn't help but feel there was an implied admission of trust in that statement. “Besides, it's cruel to assume that witchcraft is passed on through generations, isn't it?”

The two girls sighed and turned to Kanade expectantly.

“I won't report anyone to the authorities, I can guarantee that,” she said affirmatively, causing the other girls to exhale in relief. “But I am interested in what you meant, Ms Mochizuki.”

Honami jolted in her skin and she kicked herself mentally for saying her name again. “Ah, yes, the silver. It’s the most important part of a werewolf soothing potion. My grandaunt and I don't have the best of relationships so sometimes she skips the silver in her batches to spite us.”

“That little–!” Ichika cut herself off in frustration. “I thought I’d checked properly this time!”

“But that's why you asked me to graze her with my dagger, right?” Kanade asked.

“Yes,” Honami nodded. “Apologies if it came off a little harsh, Your Highness.”

“If it was to help your friend it was worth doing,” she offered a small grin.

There was a low groan that came from below and everyone turned to see Shiho stirring from her injury-induced slumber.

“Shii!” Saki dropped to her knees and flung her arms around the girl's shoulders, jolting Honami.

“Be careful, Saki!” she chided, a fond smile blooming across her face. “She’s just waking up.”

“Yes, of course. Sorry, Hona!” Saki loosened her grip and helped Shiho sit up. “How are you?”

There was a brief pause where Shiho blinked blearily at the other girl. “I… I feel like shit,” she confessed.

Kanade chuckled under her breath at the sudden declaration which sent lime-green eyes shooting in her direction. Shiho gave her a quick once over and pursed her lips in confusion.

“Are you…?”

“Ah, yes,” Kanade affirmed, suddenly feeling very meek. “I apologise for, er, the wound. To harm a citizen is an action unbefitting of a princess.”

“Right, right,” Shiho touched the gash and winced. “Well whatever you did, it brought me back, so… Thank you, anyway. We have higher regeneration rates after we turn, so no harm no foul, I guess.

“And sorry for the…,” she gestured to the claw marks on Kanade’s neck. “I don't remember a lot from my transformations but the sensation of tearing through flesh is still fresh in my mind.”

Honami rose to her feet. “I apologise I didn't notice that Your Highness was also wounded–”

Kanade dismissed her worries with a wave of her wrist. “Don’t concern yourself with an affliction as minute as this, I can barely feel it.”

Honami shook her head and cupped her hand over her throat nonetheless. She could feel her skin stretch and buzz as the wound slowly closed. Honami's hand felt warm against her neck, yet distinctly calloused and rough as if it was hiding a secret under that stubborn exterior.

“I wouldn't want it to scar, Your Highness. Allow me to do that, at least,” Honami’s hand lingered over the claw marks for a second longer than needed before Saki shook her shoulder.

“We have to go now, Hona. I fear my body isn’t coping well with tonight’s activities,” she urged. “Besides, our parents would murder us if we stayed out past two.”

“All right, Saki. And what about you Shiho?” Honami inquired.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” Shiho replied, already back on her feet.

“Then, you're quite right, Saki,” Honami said and curtsied towards Kanade. “If we’re excused by Your Highness?”

Kanade felt a flush spread across her face and down her neck. It was embarrassing to have to excuse somebody away from the palace and her royal duties. What right did she have to prevent people from leaving?

“Naturally,” she smiled softly in an attempt to mask her shame.

“As we are going in the same direction, I shall accompany you, Your Highness,” Ichika bowed in her direction and stood by her left shoulder. “When you’re ready.”

– – –

The walk back was tense, to say the least.

To quell some of the awkward energy that formed between them, Kanade opened her mouth to speak to find her handmaiden doing the same thing. She huffed a small laugh before gesturing for Ichika to continue first.

“I–I apologise that you had to get involved with all of that,” Ichika averted her gaze. “I should have been more careful.”

“It’s well and truly fine–,”

“But is it?” Ichika interrupted without thinking, an action that didn’t surprise Kanade as much as she thought it would. Ichika bit her tongue and waited until she gestured for her to go on. “My best friend suffered again due to my negligence and both of you were almost killed because of me!”

“That’s not true, Ichika,” Kanade attempted to comfort her but was quickly shrugged off.

“If I didn’t lie to you and acted like a fool you wouldn’t have been put in danger and we could’ve handled Shiho in her werewolf state a lot… I don’t know, better?” she wiped the tears forming in her eyes away. “Ah, I apologise for not addressing you properly, Your Highness.”

“Don’t apologise for something as trivial as that. Formalities are meaningless between people who have known each other as long as us,” though they were never particularly close, Kanade drew upon her memories of being taught together in the castle and watching Ichika train to be a handmaiden from outside her window. She hoped she also remembered those fleeting moments. “I don’t regret coming out tonight at all. A citizen needed my help and I’m overjoyed that I managed to provide just that.”

“But…,” Ichika’s sentence trailed off into nothing.

“You found a cure, didn’t you?” Kanade assured her.

Ichika sighed loudly and deeply and judging by her shaking shoulders, held back a wave of tears as well.

“Your Highness is correct, as expected,” she grinned at her warmly but Kanade couldn’t help but feel that there was something else she wasn’t revealing. “What were you about to say?”

“It’s going to sound silly now, but I was wondering why you were concealing the fact that you were friends with Miss Mochizuki,” as soon as the words left her mouth Ichika’s cheeks flushed.

“Oh, that, well, erm…,” she kicked a stray rock on the cobbled pavement. “I know this is asking a lot but… If I tell you, could Your Highness ensure that Honami’s position in the castle is still safe?”

“If it’s within reason, then yes,”

Kanade’s words did not comfort her in the slightest, yet Ichika felt compelled to continue. “Ah… Honami’s grandaunt, that apothecary, and grandmother used to work in the castle. They both were under the wing of the royal physician–but her grandaunt used less than legal means to remedy some of the king’s illnesses and was subsequently forbidden to enter. Though her grandmother didn’t do anything wrong, she was also forbidden,” Ichika fiddled with the ends of her hair and a creeping tremor entered her voice. “Her grandmother pulled a few strings with the royal physician and she was taken in as a servant. I kept our friendship hidden as I was afraid you had figured out their relation and would also think the Hoshinos were in on her employment and maybe punish all of us.

“There’s something else as well, but I believe it’s best you ask Honami first, Your Highness,” she finished.

Kanade would be lying if she said she wasn’t at least a little hurt at the assumption that she would be so heartless but she hummed in acknowledgement nonetheless.

“You can stop calling me ‘Your Highness’, you know,” Kanade muttered, half not wanting to be heard. It was a silly thing to request in the first place, everyone knew that royalty must be addressed with the utmost respect. Still, after the events of tonight, it simply felt odd for Ichika to keep her at an arm’s distance.

“Oh, I couldn't do that, Your Highness, it wouldn't be proper for a handmaiden,” she replied curtly.

But it would be proper for a friend, the words died on her tongue as soon as Kanade conceptualised them.

They spent the rest of the journey home in silence.

– – –

Kanade almost thought she had been kidnapped when she awoke in a bed different from her own.

Before they had reached the castle last night, Ichika quite rightly pointed out her unpresentable state. If she were to return to the palace with blood coating her, the outrage and speculation would be insurmountable.

Her handmaiden had then come up with the idea of returning to her home instead. They had quietly snuck in through a back window kept unlocked for Ichika’s monthly expeditions to Shiho’s home, and after washing up, decided it was best to stay the night than return and risk getting caught.

To put it bluntly, The Hoshinos were very well off. After committing future generations to the crown, the royal family decided to reward their loyalty with riches, and judging by their lavish guest bedrooms, they had put the money to good use.

The bedsheets and pillowcases were made from the finest of silks and smelt distantly of lavender, the cloth draping down the sides of the bed was of a deep navy blue, a bed to be envious of indeed.

There was a sudden knock at the door that jolted Kanade out of her inner monologue. Ichika’s mother opened the door with a small click and lowered herself into a deep curtsey.

“I hope your rest was pleasant, Your Highness,” her mother rose from her position, bowing her head slightly to show respect.

“It was indeed, thank you for your hospitality,” before her mother could open her mouth, Kanade interrupted. “If I may ask a question?”

“Of course,”

Her father’s face flashed in her mind and her heart ached. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to ask, would it? “I understand that you are quite an active figure inside and outside the palace?” she continued after Ichika’s mother nodded affirmatively. “Is the king’s condition widely known outside the castle?”

The woman sucked a sharp breath through her teeth, clearly caught off guard by the question. Her gaze briefly flitted away as she tried to piece together a sentence that would placate the princess.

“There are rumours,” she confirmed.

Kanade nodded solemnly. It only made sense for most of the kingdom to be suspicious when its king hadn't made a public appearance in almost a month.

“Breakfast is being served downstairs in half an hour, if you so desire it, Your Highness,”

“No, that’ll be quite alright, I’ve already overstayed my welcome,” Kanade bitterly chuckled. “I shall leave now.”

“Would Your Highness like someone to accompany her?”

Kanade felt the draining, but still weakly present, mana course alongside the blood cells in her veins, it would be enough to fly to the castle no doubt.

She tilted her head. “Just an open window will do.”

– – –

After an awkward morning of poor acting and lying about why she was so tired, Kanade found herself sipping overstrained tea in the drawing room, alone.

Well, she would be if it weren’t for her handmaiden sheepishly standing in the corner of the room, hands clasped and head hung low. Things had been rather… tense, for lack of a better word, after the events of the previous night. Ichika was still hellbent on believing that Kanade hated her for dragging her into the situation with Shiho when she felt anything but.

She chewed the side of her cheek to distract from the bubbling feeling of embarrassment rising in her chest.

She fiddled with the parchment paper laid in her lap. Written in it was a list of her duties, from any public appearances she needed to make to tending to royal guests who wanted an audience with the indisposed king.

For better or for worse, the paper was practically (and annoyingly) blank.

She set it back on the table with an exasperated sigh. Her eyes scanned the room for something–anything–to do when they landed on Ichika, head bowed and standing to the side of the room respectfully.

The girl had just arrived a mere few minutes ago, a barrage of excuses spilling from her as soon as she entered the room before Kanade stopped her. It was no secret between them.

Kanade’s mind wandered to the conversation they had last night and paused. She had been treating one of the people she'd known longest like an acquaintance, which she didn't think was fair at all. She thought of Mafuyu, too, and bit the side of her cheek.

“Come sit with me, Ichika,” she called.

“As you wish, Your Highness,” Ichika replied, curtsying before sitting primly on the settee opposite her.

“So…,” Kanade interlocked her fingers. “Tell me more about yourself.”

“Pardon me, Your Highness?” Ichika’s eyebrows furrowed.

Kanade pursed her lips, she didn't think the question was particularly outrageous. “You’ve been by my side longer than anyone else and I barely know a thing about you.”

Her father taught her to be a dignified, fair ruler–always looking out for their people and listening to noblemen and common people alike. But if that were the case, how were there still huge slums embedded into their kingdom?

“Well,” Ichika’s stiff voice jolted Kanade’s attention. “I like music. I especially like the lute.”

Her face contorted in a look of pain as if the words hurt to say.

“I am also fond of the lute,” Kanade chimed in.

“I am aware of this, Your Highness,”

“Then why didn't you say anything before?” she frowned. “You have stood outside my door listening to the very instrument you are passionate about without uttering a single word.”

“It’s not proper, Your Highness,”

“Why–,”

“I don't understand why you're so insistent on this!” Ichika snapped before quietly adding on. “Your Highness.”

Kanade should've felt offended by her words, but instead, she felt a sense of pride on behalf of her handmaiden.

Ichika gripped the fabric of her skirt. “With all due respect, I’m not entirely sure of the reason why Your Highness has taken an interest in the servants,” an unreadable expression flitted across her face. “It’s been that way for generations. Even His Majesty the King held all of us at an arm’s length.”

“That's not true, what about Tano?” Kanade didn't want to argue with her handmaiden, the whole point of this conversation was to befriend her after all, but it felt almost exhilarating to go toe-to-toe with her.

“Master Tano is an exception, he was born the exact same month as His Royal Majesty before either of them could learn proper etiquette. The King formed his attachments before he knew the first thing about his position as the Crown Prince,” Ichika shot back. “All the servant families have since started planning against that lone exception. We are always out of arm’s reach of any member of the Royal Family.”

“That's…,” Kanade couldn't believe what she was hearing, “That’s cruel. What if I wanted to be your friend? We were only born one year apart.”

“And again I reiterate, why do you want to become my friend so desperately? You have your other royal friends, no?”

“It isn’t the same. I…,” she let her sentence trail off as she reassessed her own feelings on the matter. “I hurt you and Miss Hinomori over a silly reason. I’d like to repay you by making the palace space as comfortable for you and Miss Mochizuki as I can.”

“That's the exact reason why you've been frustrating me so much!” Ichika exclaimed before quickly slapping her hands over her mouth.

Silence echoed off the walls of the room as Kanade stared at the girl in shock. If she were any other noble, she would've banned her from the premises, stripped her of her title and thrown her family into poverty–but she wasn't like every other noble. Perhaps it was the bard’s heart nestled in between her ribs, singing songs of quiet rebellions and rage-filled tragedies that prevented her from giving way to anger.

“My–My sincerest apologies, Your Highness,” Ichika choked out. “I was speaking out of turn, Your Highness can inflict whatever punishment–”

“Silence, Ichika,” she sighed softly, saddened by the accusation that she would do such a treacherous thing. “Your transgressions are dismissed.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Ichika’s lips but she forced them down.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she said dully.

That wall of ice that Kanade thought she had started to melt had reformed entirely, to her behest. Was it always this hard to make friends? Or had her royal upbringing tainted her behaviour somewhat?

“Just one last thing,” Kanade reached her hand out as if she was going to grab her and never let go, “What is it about me that vexes you so? You can speak as freely as you want, curse me to my face for all I care.”

Ichika’s face bunched up in apprehension but obliged her seemingly inane request. “I want to. You're kind and you love music as much as I do but… you don't understand how much your life differs from the rest of us. I’m forced to keep nobility at an arm’s reach or else I’ll be punished, you don't experience that,” she sucked a shrill breath through her teeth. “ It’s incredibly difficult to live as a common person in the Kingdom. I’m privileged enough to have been born to a historic servant family with a large fortune, but Shiho and Honami aren't. And it's painful to see their families struggle whilst you...”

Silence hung between them as Kanade was forced yet again to fill in the blanks.

She would be lying if she said she wasn't a little taken aback. Yet, she couldn’t refute Ichika’s points. She didn’t leave the castle apart from settling political matters or attending balls and she only just found out the Kingdom still had a prolific slum just last night. But that led her to another point–her father taught her that under his and his father’s reign, the kingdom flourished and not a single person had to beg to survive.

She absently shook her head, she shouldn’t be questioning her father like that. He would have all the answers she needed and more when he woke up because that’s just who he was. Whatever question she could ask; he could always answer.

“I… I understand your concern,” she said just to fill the air. “I apologise for any offence caused.”

“No, no, you shouldn’t have to apologise. It’s a personal issue anyway, Your Highness,” Ichika sighed whilst nervously toying with the ends of her hair.

“Could you help me?”

“Help with what, Your Highness?”

And that’s when Kanade caught herself and thought about what she had just said and cursed herself internally. What a strange thing to ask out of nowhere–she was just trying to think out loud.

“Help me know what it's like outside the castle, I suppose,” she laughed airily.

Ichika’s smile didn't reach her eyes. “I’m not sure I could help you with that, Your Highness.”

And the conversation fell flat.

– – –

The next time Kanade found herself chasing after Honami, it wasn't out of suspicion of treason.

Rather, it was out of a more embarrassing, personal reason.

Kanade’s conversation with Ichika had stuck with her. How was she meant to be an effective Princess (and one day Queen, but she pushed that thought aside) when she was cooped up in the palace all day? She had to seek out a common person of the kingdom and have them give their view–naturally.

But she knew that wasn't the only reason she wanted to talk to Honami in particular.

“Walk with me in the gardens, Ms Mochizuki,” she said to Honami’s hunched-over form, startling her.

“Ah, sorry, Your Highness, what was that?” Honami looked up from her scrubbing, brushing away stray bits of hair with her free hand.

“I request your accompaniment whilst I walk around the palace gardens,” she repeated louder as if it was the most normal thing to ask.

The other servants had since stopped their cleaning work to gawk at the pair like prim nobility gossiping about the ton. The hushed whispers amongst themselves made Honami’s face flush a crimson red.

“As–As you wish, Your Highness,” she mumbled under her breath, rising from her crouch to dust off her apron.

The gardens were a place she and her mother both loved–it was something they bonded over. The flower arrangements, obviously arranged by her mother, were organised in a specific way to send a message to visitors: we have enough money to throw it away on our gardens.

That led to the greenery spanning the entire expanse behind the castle being filled with waves of exotic flowers from every which way of the world. Her mother tried to tell her every species of flower that she'd crammed into each stretch of land but Kanade was never paying attention, favouring instead to look at the way the petals curled and the anatomy of the odd stalks themselves.

Standing by the entrance of the gardens and gazing upon the mosaic-coloured flowers brought back those sudden memories of her mother’s face, which was quite ironic considering the girl next to her had conjured up that very same image, intentional or not. She huffed melodramatically, she’d have to ask about that again later when they’d become better acquainted–only because then she’d trust her more, of course, no other reason.

“I apologise for dragging you out here, Ms Mochizuki,” Kanade said, anxiously spinning her parasol over her head. “I didn't want anyone to overhear our conversation.”

Well, as close as they could be. Ichika was tailing the pair just out of earshot, but uncomfortably close nonetheless.

“Of course, Your Highness,” she bowed her head. “What is it that you would like to discuss?”

Kanade chewed the inside of her cheek in hesitation. “Ah, well, you see…,” Kanade changed her focus–she’d start with the easier topic of conversation and ease into the more embarrassing one. “I was thinking about ways to expand my knowledge on the common people of the Kingdom.”

Honami raised her eyebrow and sucked a breath in, a little taken aback by the peculiar statement. “Right…,”

“And I wanted you to show me what it's like,” Kanade confessed.

“I see,” Honami took a second to think. “I don't see why I couldn't, Your Highness. I’ll see if I can come up with something.”

“I’ll be waiting with great anticipation, Ms Mochizuki,” as the girl was leaving, Kanade suddenly reached out to grip her wrist firmly.

Honami’s eyebrows raised. “Y–Your Highness?”

Kanade glanced down at her hand and let go immediately, the action had been entirely instinctual and she had no clue why her body had reacted in that way. Well, it at least gave her a pleasant transition to the next topic she’d like to discuss.

“Apologies, Ms Mochizuki, that was unbefitting of me,” Kanade didn't know why, but looking into Honami’s surprised yet understanding eyes made her skin warm–must have been that powerful mana of hers. “I had another thing I wanted to discuss.”

“Please do go on,”

“Well,” Kanade sighed, pursing her lips, it was now or never. “I think I upset Ichika.”

Instead of the vitriolic spite or crude laugh she was expecting, Honami’s lips fell into a small ‘o’ shape and her eyebrows knitted together. “May I ask how?”

“It was just this morning when I overstepped my boundaries and said something that I shouldn't have. How do I–,” Kanade gestured her hands wildly, “fix it?”

“Fix it?” Honami clicked her tongue. “That's a good question. Well, I could talk to her myself if you'd like–”

“Ah, no, I’d rather do it myself,”

Honami tilted her head and smiled rather warmly at her, bringing that odd burning sensation again. “All right. Ichika loves her apples, Your Highness could bake her an apple confectionery.”

“I don't know how to cook,”

“That’ll be your first lesson, then, Your Highness,” Honami slowed to a halt and stood by a bed of coral-pink flowers, petunias, Kanade noted. “Tomorrow morning, at half-past five, come to the kitchens. I’ll help you bake an apple pie.”

As if she had enchanted her words, Kanade already found herself agreeing before she had finished her sentence. “I will see you then.”

Tomorrow morning would certainly prove to be interesting.