Kyoumi squirmed under Suzu’s contemplative stare and Emio toying with her hair, watching Jun in the reflection of her mirror. Suzu leaned over to tap her shoulder when Kyoumi started to bite her lip.

“You have to look presentable,” Suzu said firmly. “Could you imagine if Erize saw you like this?”

Kyoumi shuddered. If only closing her eyes would keep her from seeing the scene again in her mind.

Emio dropped Kyoumi’s hair and whacked her mother with the back of her hand.

“Gods, Mother. Could you imagine if Sorai heard you say that?”

Suzu rolled her eyes, picked up her drink, and left. She slammed the door behind her, only making Kyoumi feel worse.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” Emio said after a second, gently bringing the front of Kyoumi’s hair back to tie it up. “Mother doesn’t take loss well. Your parents were her friends, too.”

“I just…wish we didn’t need to do this today,” Kyoumi murmured. She tried to sit up straight and practice something similar to a smile. Looking at it in the mirror, she knew it wouldn’t convince anyone. “Can’t the kingdom go a day without a ruler?”

“It makes everyone anxious,” Emio replied. “But we’ll be here for you.”

“Emmy!” Jun whined, bouncing up and down on Kyoumi’s bed. “That’s a lie. She only cares about Sorai.”

Emio laughed as Kyoumi tried to look away to hide reddening cheeks.

“Atta girl,” Emio said teasingly. “Just think about Sorai. You can mourn all you want after you’re crowned—just make it through the next few hours with a smile.”

Kyoumi took a deep breath and nodded, falling silent so Emio could work a little quicker. When she finished, Emio wrangled Jun out of the room to give Kyoumi some time to herself.

She hated it—all she could do was fidget and stare and pray that she wouldn’t cry. The coronation itself didn’t have a large number of guests—especially with deaths this sudden, only the closest nobles received the news—but the Fujita and Hiroki families would be coming later in the week. She had to be strong for them.

She stood up when someone knocked on the door and carefully opened it. Her smile to Sorai and Takeo was half-genuine.

“Are you ready?” Takeo asked. Even he looked like his appearance was rushed; was no one prepared?

“As much as I will be,” Kyoumi replied. She cast Sorai a curious, hopeful look. “Will you be with the others, or..?”

“Grandfather said it was okay to stay next to you,” Sorai said, managing a broader smile than she could even dream of. He was so good at that—smiling when no one else could. “Exceptions are easier to make when there isn’t any family to take that place instead.”

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“Thank you.”

Kyoumi raised her head and walked over to join them. She let Takeo lead, wondering if Utaka had been the same way. Takeo watched her father’s coronation as well—although that was because Takeo was closest to Utaka’s mother, the ruler before him.

She tried to shake off the train of thought. Yet another thing she hated about this: due to the nature of the crown, the previous ruler will never see the coronation of the next. She was lucky to have Takeo there to tell her the stories.

Takeo slowed his pace so Kyoumi led once they made it close to the entrance hall. She hesitated when she saw the crowd, only going further because Sorai flashed her a smile and Takeo encouraged her.

All of their eyes were on her in an instant—the teenaged girl who would be forced to become queen the same day she found out her parents died. They were only buried a few hours ago. She tried to keep her composure, even as she stopped in front of her parents’ portraits and turned towards the strangers.

She only recognized the Fujita family; the rest were nameless strangers, all scrutinizing her and waiting for whatever she would wish for during her rule.

Kyoumi knew what she had to say—it hasn’t changed ever since the first queen—but the words wouldn’t come out. She folded her hands behind her back as panic slowly crept over here, trying to focus on how the silk of her dress felt in her hands as she toyed with her sleeves.

She can’t do this. She just…she just can’t.

She caved in, letting a few tears fall and offering a bow to the crowd. It made her weak, but she couldn’t help it. If they didn’t expect her to come sorrowful, they should readjust their expectations; her parents were murdered. She should be allowed to cry.

That you should, child. Kyoumi shivered at the unfamiliar voice. And I’m sorry, but you must cry more. Stay strong. You will know peace in time.

Kyoumi took a steadying breath and stood up, biting her tongue so she could distract herself from the disdainful, pitying looks of all but the Fujita family. Still, they bowed.

“Everyone,” Takeo said, holding a kind of authority in his voice that Kyoumi hoped she could achieve. “Honor the new Queen Gin-Kaiba Kyoumi.”

“May she be blessed,” the strangers replied together. They didn’t sound genuine.

She tried to keep an even expression. She couldn’t let it show that it bothered her.

She already made a bad first impression. These next few weeks could very well paint her reputation for the decades to come.

…

There were certain things only rulers knew: the amount of money in the treasury, the names of every family and which territory they reside in, things that Kyoumi never cared for.

She always found it strange that rulers after the first queen were given a week to understand everything. They weren’t expected to be seen for days. It wasn’t just for mourning—Utaka told her that himself.

Kyoumi knew now. It was to come to terms to the crushing weight of a secret as large as the first queen’s suicide—how she heard voices and she killed to obey them, and ended her own life to stop her own misery. That’s what her husband decided it must mean, at any rate.

It made sense; sometimes on her worst days, she thought she heard things too. Unfamiliar voices telling her how easy it would be to die. How much quieter it would be—how everything would be over once her parents died, as well.

Utaka always spoke to imaginary people when he got drunk—argued about life and death and the purpose of it, what kept him there—which only scared her more. The whole family seemed to be cursed.

She decided to cope by ignoring it. Sorai knew she hid something, but the letter asked to keep it a secret.

Kyoumi already had a shaky ground as a queen. If word came out under her rule that the line was cursed, she had no doubt they would blame it on her. It was the best she could do for now.