The voices hadn’t let up for two whole days, now. Even when Seiko slept as Miss Shiharu asked, she couldn’t be rid of them.

Every one of them had a face—a smile or a frown, laughing or crying—-but at the same time she could barely make out any features. By extension, she realized every voice was a person—or represented by a person, at any rate—and some had scars, others bruises, and the rest were deathly pale. Most of them were adults, her age or older, but some were younger.

“Am I not allowed some kind of reprieve?” Seiko asked, looking around at the strangers. Not one face was familiar.

There is no reprieve for one like you, a few voices—people—said around her. We will continue to remind you, and remind you, and remind you until you finally give in.

Or have you already forgotten? another set asked. Your life is not your own. Your body may be yours, but in the end that’s all you have—not your choices, not your actions, not your ending. We’ve already decided this all for you.

You only feel pain because you resist us, several others added. This has a rather simple solution—let us use you, and you will finally have ‘reprieve.’

“You know my answer to your offer,” Seiko pointed out. Any of the smiling people were starting to frown, and those that were already frowning made them deeper. It resembled a painting more than life, where Seiko was the only thing portrayed realistically. “I’ve been here for no more than two weeks, and you’ve asked me to hurt others every day since. I know you don’t mean well.”

Wouldn’t you like to be called a legend? Your story to be passed down to generation upon generation?

“I have no reason to. That kind of extravagance isn’t something I look forward to.”

Oh really? But it will be yours—every last fragment of it.

They were lying. She had no reason to believe they were true—she wouldn’t aim that high, wouldn’t try to make a place for herself as anything more than a governess; she had no desire for any of the extravagance she technically had a right to.

The people in front of her vanished, then reappeared around her. Those closest to her reached forward and grabbed her neck while the rest shoved her onto the floor. As soon as she knelt down, they stepped on her hands to keep her from clawing at them.

Her heart raced quicker than it did after her worst nightmare; despite the complete silence her head managed to pound and ache, and their grip made it impossible for her to breathe.

You’ll be the last. The life that is not your own will do so much, Seiko. And if we’re wrong, and someone else comes after you, we’ll just repeat ourselves to them, over and over…

You’ll be one of us, one way or another. Saved when we are, or else stuck like this until someone finally comes along to end it.

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…

Seiko woke up with a sudden breath, wasting no time in fully gathering her bearings. She sat up and tried to steady herself. Only a few voices milled about in the back of her mind, aimlessly chattering about something. One of them vaguely sounded like the king, but the murmurs were too quiet for her to know for sure.

She glanced out the window; very little light came from outside. It must be very early in the morning—she slept through dinner, then. Without the migraine—for right now, at least, her mind was clear and she didn’t feel any pain—she might be able to eat something.

She got out of her bed, quickly changed into one of her normal dresses, and brushed her hair with her fingers while she left the room and went down the hallway. A few of the doors were half-open, while others—the rooms of the youngest ones—were completely closed. Voices—real ones—came from further down.

Seiko intended to avoid it, if only because her own thoughts grew louder when the voices she could actually hear did. If she knew she wouldn’t be hungry in the morning, she would just head back—but two days of barely eating left her running on the bare minimum. Mikka would be worried just by her eating less than usual.

As Seiko got closer to the kitchen, she recognized the voices as Lord Gin and Prince Jukazu. The latter must have returned.

“…But why don’t you have any guards?”

“I told you, they were killed.”

“Do you really think I’ll believe that? You’re barely hurt.”

“Teiki’s arm is nearly sawed off!”

“I see that, and Yukira and Shiharu are getting medicines now. But you, on the other hand, just have a few scratches. Did you sneak off without them? I assume I need to send someone to get your father.”

Seiko paused at the dining hall door; she had to pass through to get into the kitchen, but the two men stood around there arguing.

You should stay, a few voices murmured.

Solely because of that, she turned to leave again. She could make due without a snack—it’ll only be a few hours.

But when she tried, she couldn’t move her foot forward—couldn’t take any steps away from the door, away from a conversation she had no right to listen to. She couldn’t give them a semblance of privacy even if she wanted to.

Jukazu half-chuckled with no real humor. “Oh, you don’t need to. He’s here.”

“…Where? I don’t see him.”

I’m here, a voice said—the king’s voice. It startled her.

“How many times do I have to tell you? We were attacked by thieves.”

I told Jukazu we were meeting someone from Kuro. That’s where I met Shiharu Yaroko; out fighting our sister kingdom.

“Our guards noticed first. Their fighting alerted me to the thieves.”

Jukazu got angry. Said we were cursed enough as it is; he refused to associate with Kuro, let their need for bloodshed overlap with our skill at it. I didn’t understand what he meant at the time.

“I joined the fight, and so did Father and Teiki.”

He drew his sword at me, called me a coward. Teiki tried to step in when he noticed Jukazu was getting violent.

“The thieves killed the guards first and attacked Teiki—they greatly injured him.”

Jukazu lashed out against the guards when they started to defend me. Once they were killed, he stabbed Teiki for the same reason—but a part of him didn’t want to kill his brother, I think, so he focused on me.

“One last thief remained; while I was distracted with Teiki, they targeted Father.”

And in the end…

“A madman killed King Gin-Betemo Tsunkei. Gather a crowd, Uncle—they must hear it from us, first, as I take his place as king.”