Seiko stayed in a room shared by most of the royals’ assistants and caretakers; fortunately, none of the girls who had traveled with her saw it necessary to explain their dislike of her, which she would thank them for if they ever spoke a word to her. She was in charge of making sure Princess Maenomi was dressed and ready for each day by the time the royal family ate breakfast, and she was tasked with keeping both the princess and Prince Kyuru entertained whenever they weren’t being schooled by another servant.

Some voices chose to relent when she was around her charges—they were still loud enough, however, that she could use them to inspire the stories she told the princess and prince. Seiko had no opportunity to try to ask why; they only really ‘responded’ when she spoke to them aloud, but she wasn’t comfortable doing so when there were others nearby.

A month passed since Seiko first came—she was able to send Mikka a few letters, one or two of which received a reply. She wasn’t doing anything much different than what she had done to help her mother, so the greatest thing that took some adjustment was living in such a large place and people actually talking to her.

Seiko woke up earlier than most of the girls, but it didn’t bother her. She made sure she was ready and presentable before quietly making her way to Princess Maenomi’s room. The girl was already awake, sitting at the foot of her bed.

“Good morning, Miss Tsujihara,” she said kindly. “Mother promised that we would see the festival after breakfast. I was wondering if she would actually take us if I was prepared, so can you get out something for me to wear?”

Seiko nodded, remaining quiet. The voices weren’t particularly fond of Princess Maenomi—her feelings were so closely tied to theirs that she felt the same, on some level, although if the princess noticed she never said it outright.

She chose a few possible options, allowing Princess Maenomi to have the final say. When that was decided, Seiko helped the princess get dressed. Princess Maenomi seemed very pleased when she finished.

“You’re an excellent servant girl,” she noted cheerfully. She grew slightly more polite once the novelty of having a personal servant wore off, only occasionally lapsing back into childishness. The princess smiled as she looked at Seiko. “Are you free for the afternoon, Miss Tsujihara? Mother’s servants aren’t as pretty as you; I want everyone to know who we are, and a beautiful young woman walking with us should do.”

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

Seiko took a step back to make sure the girl looked reasonable before she answered. “I have no place to walk alongside the king’s family,” she replied honestly. “Nor do I believe that Lord Ozuru is particularly fond of me.”

“Shame,” Princess Maenomi said, sighing. She cheered up fairly quickly as she smiled and turned to the door. “Well, I’m off!”

Before she could leave, there was a knock on the door. “You may enter,” the princess said, adding even more formality when the person was unknown.

One of the guards opened the door and bowed. “There’s some news concerning King Tsunkei,” he said hurriedly. “The royal family is meeting in the throne room.”

Princess Maenomi nodded and left the room with more authority than she actually demanded. The guard turned to Seiko and nodded. “They’ve asked all servants to return to their quarters until called upon.”

“I’m in no position to protest,” Seiko replied. “Thank you for carrying the message along.”

The guard left, and she went to the servant’s quarters. Only about half of the girls were there—a few came in during those next few minutes, but five or six of them were missing. They mostly kept conversation amongst themselves, with Seiko’s voices speaking louder than usual. On occasion she would hear a voice that hadn’t been there the day before.

There’s a story—no, a truth—that Ginshin’s kingdom was once white instead of silver. However, the color white gained certain connotations, and he abandoned it in favor of something similar. Do you know what white means, Seiko? It heralds forth winter with snow; it’s perfect, in some way, and pure. But that’s not all—can you guess, child?

Seiko couldn’t respond, her voices creating a headache as they talked over each other and only grew louder. She winced, making one of the older girls notice—but Seiko couldn’t really hear the girl asking her a few questions. The voices only grew louder before they answered the question for her.

White is the color of death, and silver was made to cover the corpses.

It was only a moment later when the door opened, one of the missing girls finally returning. Whatever news she had to share, Seiko did not hear it from the girl—instead, her voices repeated it over and over again.

Things can change so quickly—a perfect world can become corrupt, and a small feud can bring complete ruin. With lives being so short, it was only a matter of time; change has come yet again.

King Tsunkei has died—he’s been killed. Who knows who did the deed. Soon, though…what will even be left of them? Perhaps this wretched existence will end, after so long…