There were times when Mikka distinctly felt like she was doing something…wrong, somehow. She’s been struggling with some illness or another for nearly two decades, never really being ‘strong’ to begin with. She thanked the gods constantly for having been able to see Seiko grow so much…and now she made Ujuro bring her all the way to the capital, just so she could see the girl again.

Precious few people recognized her—she didn’t go out of her way to make sure they knew her, either. This would be the last time she ever made a trip here, for better or worse…if she even made it the trip back home. At least Ujuro was kind enough to give her this chance—although it took longer than usual. Mikka just wanted to see her daughter in person while she had a chance.

After they arrived, Mikka had gone to an old friend’s house to rest while Ujuro tried to get Seiko there. He came back after about an hour, explaining that Seiko couldn’t leave her post but they could still speak with her. Mikka gladly took the chance, presenting herself to be as elegant as she could and hoping her daughter wouldn’t notice how her movements were a bit sloppier and less coordinated.

Ujuro brought her to the palace, and Mikka smiled when she saw Seiko. Similarly, when Seiko noticed Mikka she looked relieved.

“She does look better,” Seiko murmured. A bit louder—something that she intended Mikka to hear—she added, “Are you feeling well, Mother?”

“Yes,” Mikka replied, lying somewhat. She cast a smile at the other soldiers standing guard. “Are you acquainted with any of these soldiers?”

Seiko nodded, gesturing to the man standing next to her; he was a bit taller than the others, and blue eyes gave away heritage from the north. He bowed out of respect, and Mikka bowed to return the favor.

“Kinjo Asahi,” the man said. They both stood. “You’re Tsujihara Mikka, I assume?”

Mikka nodded. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. This man here”—she gestured to Ujuro—“is Kyou Ujuro, my husband.”

Kinjo gave a small bow to Ujuro as well. “It’s good to meet both of you.”

Ujuro tried to strike up small talk with Kinjo, so Mikka spoke directly to Seiko. “Are you allowed to let me inside the palace?” Mikka asked curiously.

“I should be able to let you past the gates, at least,” Seiko replied. She glanced at one of the other soldiers, who nodded and stepped aside. Seiko gave a little smile as thanks and looked back at Mikka. “Any place in particular you would like to go?”

“I think I’ll just wander,” Mikka mused. “It’s been a long time since I last came here.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Seiko nodded. “Just stay out of any guarded areas and you shouldn’t have any trouble.”

“Thank you, Seiko,” Mikka said kindly.

Seiko smiled in response, and Mikka entered the palace. Much had changed in the last decade or so—her memories no longer matched the place around her. Not like she ever spent a particularly long time here before.

Mikka knew who she wanted to see, but she wasn’t entirely sure where he was. She saw his children and could faintly recognize his wife, but the man himself was elusive. In the end, she waited in the entrance hall of the palace, paying her respects to Tsunkei and his father, Kyuburu. Those were the only two faces she could honestly say she remembered—it was still a shame Tsunkei had to die like he did. She wondered if it reminded Ozuru of when his father.

She knew he came based on how he addressed her. “Mikka. Here I thought I might’ve seen the last of you.”

She laughed and glanced at him. “What gave you that impression, Ozuru?”

“Need I list everything?” Ozuru asked dryly.

“I can wait,” Mikka replied. She was faintly aware that her smile was a bit too childish for the situation, but in the moment she didn’t care.

Ozuru sighed and looked away from her, pretending to focus on something in the courtyard. “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to thank you,” Mikka said.

“What have I done—”

“You looked over Seiko. You didn’t turn her away.”

Ozuru glanced at her warily. “I haven’t done anything more than what I believe is needed. Your daughter is strong, and we need the soldiers. It doesn’t go any further than that.”

“It doesn’t?” Mikka asked, skeptical. She frowned, and spoke simply. “You haven’t changed at all, you know—I can tell you’re aware of who she is. That’s clear enough by how you’re not looking at me.” He stayed silent and turned away again, and Mikka’s frown only deepened. “Ozuru, I need you to promise me something.”

He didn’t immediately respond. Three people—the eldest prince and his two guards—passed by the room, casting them a curious look but saying nothing. Mikka waited for them to leave before she continued. “Ozuru, I’m dying,” she pleaded.

Finally, his expression changed—apparently it surprised him—but he still didn’t look at her. She pressed on. “You have to keep looking after Seiko,” Mikka insisted, fighting against a few tears. “I’ll have to leave her soon. She heard voices when she was younger—they’ve left, I think, but they might return. I need you to keep watching her, and make sure she makes it through this—take her off the battlefield and call her a princess for all I care! Anything as long as she’s safe.” She took a breath, walking so she was right in front of him. Ozuru’s response was to turn his head so he still didn’t see her. “You owe as much to her—to me. Please.”

Ozuru looked back at her after a few seconds, frowning and taking a step back. “She won’t die here,” Ozuru said coldly. “If she came close, I would drag her back here—but not out of whatever duty I may have to her. If all else fails, she will still live to carry on the throne. This little war isn’t over until the rebels back down.”

“Just keep her safe,” Mikka maintained. “That’s all I ask of you. That’s the last thing I’ll ever ask of you.”

She took another few steps away, and Ozuru sighed. “…For you,” he agreed quietly.

Mikka smiled. “Thank you.”

He muttered a few words that were supposed to sound annoyed, but it only brought back fond memories for her. She laughed, the feeling becoming bittersweet. “May we meet again, Ozuru.”

Ozuru murmured some kind of agreement and left. Mikka watched him go for a moment, finally feeling like she made a good choice for her daughter.

Seiko will be in good hands. She had to keep believing that.