POV: Sekire

  13th Day - Afternoon, Private Living Room

  "No, no, no!" Fuyumi was frustrated, holding her head, "you don't bow like that to a Lady!"

  "But I bowed!"

  "You practically folded yourself in half like you were about to vomit!" Hinata was trying not to laugh, failing miserably.

  I had just come back from morning training with Caliope, exhausted, sweaty, and now I was being bombarded with "basic etiquette,"

  which apparently I had none of.

  "Try again," Fuyumi instructed, tone patient but tired, "slight curtsy, not a full tilt, you're greeting a noble, not kneeling before a queen."

  I tried again,

  bowed, slightly, controlled.

  "Better, but now your hands are wrong."

  "What's wrong with my hands?"

  "They're in your pockets!"

  "I don't have pockets."

  "Exactly! So why are you gesturing like you do?" Fuyumi sighed, "hands crossed in front, delicately, like this."

  She demonstrated, hands crossed gracefully below her waist,

  I tried to replicate it.

  "Why do I look like a penguin?"

  "Because you're too stiff," Hinata commented, still laughing.

  "THAT DOESN'T HELP!"

  14th Day - Morning, Same Room

  Second day of etiquette training,

  it wasn't going better.

  "When Lady Clemearl speaks to you, you should—"

  "Look her in the eyes?"

  "NO! Not directly! It's intimidating! Look at the bridge of her nose!"

  "The bridge of her nose?"

  "Yes, it looks like you're making eye contact but you're not really, it's less uncomfortable for both parties."

  That made absolutely no sense.

  "And when she offers you tea?"

  "I accept?"

  "Yes, but how?"

  "By taking the cup?"

  Fuyumi groaned.

  "With both hands, delicately, you thank her verbally first, then take the cup."

  "Why can't I just take it?"

  "BECAUSE IT'S RUDE!"

  Hinata was lying on the sofa, shaking with laughter.

  "You two are a disaster," she managed to say between fits of laughter.

  "You're not helping," Fuyumi pointed out.

  "I'm not trying to," Hinata admitted.

  Lunchtime

  "Cutlery," Fuyumi declared, pointing at the elaborately set table, "from the outside in."

  I looked at the six different pieces of cutlery around the plate.

  "Why do I need six pieces of cutlery?"

  "Each one has a specific purpose."

  "But it's all food, can't I just use one?"

  "TECHNICALLY yes, but—"

  I grabbed the fork in the middle.

  "This one."

  "That's the salad fork!"

  "And?"

  "You're going to eat meat!"

  "With the salad fork."

  Fuyumi looked at Hinata, desperate.

  "She's impossible."

  "I know," Hinata agreed, still enjoying all of this far too much.

  Afternoon

  "Polite conversation," Fuyumi began, "acceptable topics include: weather, art, literature, music."

  "And unacceptable topics?"

  "Politics, religion, money, anything controversial."

  "So boring topics."

  "SAFE topics."

  "But what if she asks me something I don't know?"

  "You politely admit you have no knowledge on the subject and ask if she could enlighten you."

  "That doesn't sound humiliating at all."

  "It's POLITE!"

  I sighed.

  "This is very complicated."

  "It's basic etiquette!"

  "For you maybe!"

  Hinata intervened, finally useful.

  "Sekire, look, you don't need to be perfect, you just need to not do anything absurdly offensive."

  "Like what?"

  "Like spitting on the floor?"

  "I DON'T DO THAT!"

  "I know, it was an example," she laughed, "just be yourself, but the polite version."

  "I don't know if I have a polite version."

  "Then invent one."

  Night - My Room

  Lying in bed, head aching from so much useless information about etiquette,

  forks, spoons, how to bow, where to look, what to say, what not to say,

  it was too much,

  way too much.

  And Mabel would arrive tomorrow,

  with Lady Clemearl,

  the test would begin,

  and I barely knew how to hold a fork properly.

  Great,

  absolutely great.

  POV: Mabel

  15th Day - Morning, Carriage

  The road was smooth, well maintained, typical of Axoland's main routes,

  I was in the carriage with Ferme and Clemearl, heading back to the capital,

  the journey would take the whole day, we'd arrive at dusk.

  Clemearl was quiet, looking out the window, lost in thought,

  Ferme was beside me, also watching the landscape,

  comfortable silence, but weighted.

  "Ferme," I began, breaking the silence.

  "Yes?"

  "Have you thought about next year?"

  He looked at me, confused.

  "Next year?"

  "The Kryven Magic Academy, we both enter in a year."

  Recognition crossed his face.

  "Ah, yes, the academy."

  Kryven was the most prestigious magic academy in Axoland, perhaps on the continent, located in the mountains north of the capital, where the greatest magic scholars, elite magic knights, and military strategists were trained, adolescents entered at twelve and left at sixteen, transformed,

  every noble was expected to attend.

  "What do you plan to do there?" he asked.

  I thought about it.

  "Honestly? I don't know, I mean, I'll study, obviously, improve my magic, learn combat, everything that's expected."

  Pause.

  "But beyond that? I just want to let things unfold, make the most of those four years without the pressure of being a princess all the time."

  Ferme laughed, softly.

  "You, without the pressure of being a princess? That I need to see."

  "Hey! I can be normal!"

  "You are many things, Mabel, normal isn't one of them."

  I pushed him, lightly.

  "Idiot."

  "Idiot princess."

  But he was smiling.

  "And you? What do you plan?"

  His expression became serious, thoughtful.

  "I'll become a magic knight, officially, pass the tests, the ceremonies, everything during the years at Kryven."

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  "And after?"

  "Try to reach where Mark reached."

  Mark O'Malley, Ferme's older brother, Kyusei,

  the highest military rank in Axoland.

  "You'll get there," I said, confident.

  "How are you so sure?"

  "Because you're you, dedicated, competent, irritatingly perfect sometimes."

  He laughed.

  "Irritatingly perfect?"

  "You know it's true."

  "Maybe."

  Silence again, but lighter.

  "It'll be strange," I murmured.

  "What will?"

  "Being at the academy, away from the castle, away from home, for the first time truly on my own."

  "You won't be alone," he said, simple, "I'll be there."

  I looked at him.

  "Promise?"

  "Promise."

  Something warm in my chest.

  "Thank you, Ferme."

  "Always."

  POV: Clemearl

  Same Carriage, Same Moment

  I listened to the conversation between Mabel and Ferme vaguely, but wasn't truly paying attention,

  I was lost,

  in memories,

  painful memories.

  Flashback - Three Years Ago

  Esther was four years old,

  it was a sunny day, we were in the garden, she playing with Delta, laughing, running,

  happy,

  completely happy.

  "Mother! Mother! Look!" she shouted, extending her little hands,

  small water spheres began floating around her, crystalline and bright under the sun,

  magic,

  her first conscious manifestation,

  my heart swelled with pride.

  "Very good, darling! Beautiful!"

  But then,

  Esther stumbled,

  the water spheres fell, wetting the grass,

  and she vomited,

  violently.

  I ran to her, took her in my arms.

  "Esther! Esther, what's wrong?"

  She was pale, sweating, trembling.

  "Mother... I don't feel well..."

  I carried her inside immediately, called for a healer,

  but I already knew,

  I already knew,

  the curse,

  it had begun.

  Days Later

  The healer confirmed it.

  "The curse is active, Lady Clemearl, every time she uses mana, her body will react negatively, nausea, dizziness, weakness, and over time..."

  He didn't finish,

  he didn't need to,

  I already knew the rest.

  Over time it would worsen, the physical deterioration would become permanent, her life force being slowly drained,

  until there was nothing left.

  "How long?" I asked, voice steady by some miracle.

  "Hard to say, years, perhaps decades, it depends on how much she uses magic, how much she pushes her body."

  "And if she never uses magic again?"

  "It would slow things down, but not stop them, the curse is in her soul, not in the magic, using magic only accelerates it."

  No cure,

  no solution,

  just an inevitable countdown.

  Present - Carriage

  I blinked, returning to the present.

  Esther was home now, with Lizbeth and Bizar, safe,

  but for how long?

  How long until the curse worsened?

  How long until I lost her?

  No.

  I won't lose her.

  Sekire,

  the girl Mabel swore was the key,

  I had to believe it,

  I had to have hope,

  because without hope, what did I have left?

  POV: Mabel

  Late Afternoon

  Ferme leaned forward, looking out the window.

  "Mabel, look."

  I looked,

  and saw it,

  in the distance, on the horizon, emerging like a giant of stone and glass,

  Ursoft,

  the capital,

  high walls, countless towers, domes shining under the setting sun,

  the largest city in Axoland, heart of the kingdom, home to a million people,

  and my home.

  "We're here," I whispered.

  Clemearl looked too, expression neutral but there was something in her eyes,

  determination.

  "Tomorrow," she said, voice soft but weighted, "tomorrow I meet Sekire."

  "Yes."

  "And the test begins."

  "Yes."

  She looked at me, golden eyes fixed.

  "I hope your vision is correct, Your Highness."

  "So do I."

  Because if it wasn't,

  if Sekire wasn't the key,

  then there was no hope,

  for anyone.

  The carriage continued, passing through the city's outer gates,

  toward the castle,

  toward the future,

  uncertain, frightening, but inevitable.

  POV: Sekire

  15th Day - Afternoon

  Flashback - Japan, Past Life

  The fluorescent light in the bedroom flickered irritatingly,

  Shimizu Yuki stared at the books spread across the desk, notebooks covered in annotations, pens of different colors organized meticulously.

  Three in the morning,

  again.

  "Just one more chapter," she whispered to herself, fingers trembling slightly as she turned the page of the math book,

  the high school entrance exam was two weeks away,

  two weeks,

  and she didn't feel ready,

  she never felt ready,

  no matter how many hours she studied, how many practice tests she took, how many questions she solved,

  there was always more,

  there was always something she didn't know well enough.

  The bedroom door opened, abrupt.

  "Still awake?"

  Father,

  crumpled suit, loose tie, tired but critical eyes,

  he never slept early, always working, always in his office, always absent,

  except when he wanted to demand results.

  "I'm studying."

  "You're always studying," he entered, looked at the desk, "and your results?"

  "They improved, I got 94 on the last practice test—"

  "Ninety-four isn't a hundred."

  Silence,

  always like this,

  never good enough.

  "You need to work harder, the competition is brutal, thousands of students competing for the same spots."

  "I know."

  "Do you? Because it doesn't seem like it," he gestured at the books, "this here is the minimum, the basics, everyone is doing this."

  "Then what do I do?"

  "More."

  Always more,

  he left, closing the door,

  and she stayed there, alone, staring at the books,

  feeling the crushing weight of expectations.

  Three years later,

  university entrance exam,

  same scene, same bedroom, same flickering fluorescent light,

  but worse,

  much worse,

  because now it wasn't just her father,

  it was her mother too.

  Shimizu Keiko,

  model, influencer, complete narcissist.

  "Yuki, darling," she entered, makeup perfect even at two in the morning, "are you really going to wear that outfit for the exam?"

  Yuki looked at the school uniform folded on the chair.

  "It's the uniform."

  "Yes, but it's so plain, don't you want to make a good impression?"

  "Mom, it's a written test, nobody cares about clothes."

  "Everyone cares, appearance is everything," she picked up the uniform, wrinkled her nose, "we should have bought that designer uniform I saw—"

  "Mom, please, I need to study."

  "Study, study, that's all you ever do," she tossed the uniform back, "when was the last time you went out? Had fun? Took a decent photo for your social media?"

  "I don't have time for that."

  "You always find time for what's important," she looked at herself in the wall mirror, adjusted her hair, "you know, when I was your age, I balanced a modeling career with studies, it wasn't that hard."

  A lie,

  she had dropped out at sixteen to focus on her career,

  but never admitted it.

  "Mom, I really need—"

  "And about university, you're applying to Todai, right?"

  University of Tokyo, the most prestigious in Japan.

  "I'm trying, but—"

  "Trying isn't enough, you need to get in, imagine the image, my daughter at Todai!"

  Always about her,

  always about the image,

  never about Yuki.

  "I'll do my best."

  "Your best needs to be perfect."

  And she left, trailing expensive perfume and impossible expectations,

  Yuki looked at the books again,

  advanced mathematics, quantum physics, classical literature, world history,

  mountains of content,

  and she didn't feel ready,

  she never felt ready,

  no matter how much she studied,

  there was always more,

  there was always something that wasn't good enough,

  there was always the feeling of failing,

  even when she was giving everything she had.

  Present - Sekire's Room, Abyciss Castle

  I blinked, returning to the present,

  I was sitting in front of the mirror, Hinata behind me, carefully combing my hair.

  "You're trembling," she noted, gentle.

  "Am I?"

  "Yes, is everything alright?"

  No,

  it wasn't,

  because that feeling was back,

  that crushing weight,

  of not being good enough,

  of not being ready,

  even after training, improving, awakening a spell, learning etiquette (badly, but trying).

  It didn't feel like enough,

  it never felt like enough.

  "Sekire," Hinata placed her hand on my shoulder, looking at my reflection in the mirror, "breathe."

  I tried,

  but the air felt stuck in my throat.

  "I'm not ready."

  "Nobody ever is completely ready."

  "But what if I fail? What if Lady Clemearl judges me and decides I'm not suitable? What if—"

  "What if you pass?" Hinata cut me off, gentle but firm, "what if you're exactly what she needs?"

  "But—"

  "Sekire, you survived things that would have killed most people, escaped a demon-controlled village, crossed the border alone, were rescued by a Kyusei, learned to control mana in weeks, awakened a spell in hours."

  She squeezed my shoulder.

  "You're incredible, even when you don't believe it."

  Tears began to form.

  "But I don't feel incredible, I feel scared."

  "Being scared doesn't mean you're not strong, it means you're human."

  She finished combing my hair, pinned half of it back with simple but elegant clips.

  "And it's okay to be afraid, it's okay to not feel ready, because nobody really is, we just do the best we can."

  "What if my best isn't enough?"

  "Then at least you tried, but I'd bet everything that your best is more than enough."

  She turned the chair, making me look directly at her.

  "Now, breathe deep, three times, go."

  I breathed,

  once,

  twice,

  three times,

  the tightness in my chest loosened slightly.

  "Better?"

  "A little."

  "Good, now let's get you ready, because Lady Clemearl arrives in less than an hour."

  Thirty Minutes Later

  I was dressed formally,

  nothing extravagant, but appropriate,

  a simple dress, dark blue, without many ornaments, long sleeves, length to the knees,

  hair combed, half pinned up, half loose,

  no makeup, because I didn't know how to apply it and Hinata insisted natural was better.

  "Perfect," Hinata declared, satisfied.

  "I look uncomfortable."

  "You are uncomfortable, but you look fine."

  "That's not reassuring."

  "I wasn't trying to reassure you, I was stating a fact."

  Fuyumi entered, already dressed too, something more elaborate, shades of green that matched her eyes.

  "Ready?"

  "No."

  "Good, it means you'll take it seriously."

  Why did everyone keep saying that?

  Main Reception Hall

  I stood beside Fuyumi and Hinata, the three of us lined up, waiting,

  Caliope and Harven were further ahead, royal posture impeccable,

  other lesser nobles present too, because apparently a Netherheart's visit was an event.

  Anxiety growing,

  heart racing,

  hands sweating,

  I don't feel ready,

  I never feel ready,

  no matter how much I prepare.

  And then,

  the doors opened,

  and she entered.

  Clemearl Netherheart,

  exactly as Mabel had described,

  long silver hair, single braid running down the center, straight fringe, side strands framing her face,

  golden eyes with concentric circles, hypnotic, piercing,

  elegant white dress, simple but impeccable,

  perfect posture,

  and presence,

  god, the presence,

  as if the air changed when she entered,

  as if everything gravitated toward her,

  absolute authority without needing to speak a single word.

  She walked to Caliope and Harven, bowed, respectful but not submissive.

  "Queen Caliope, King Harven, thank you for receiving me."

  "Lady Clemearl," Caliope smiled, genuine, "the honor is ours."

  Exchange of formal greetings, diplomatic words I didn't pay attention to,

  because those golden eyes moved,

  and found mine.

  Time stopped,

  she observed me,

  not judging, not yet,

  just observing,

  evaluating,

  seeing through me in a way that made me want to disappear,

  but I forced myself to stay still,

  to maintain eye contact (or almost, I was looking at the bridge of her nose like Fuyumi taught me),

  to not show the growing panic.

  After what felt like an eternity, but was probably seconds, she approached,

  stopped before me.

  "You must be Sekire Dawnveil."

  "Y-yes, Lady Clemearl," I bowed, exactly as Fuyumi had taught, slight curtsy, hands crossed,

  not like a penguin,

  I hoped.

  "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Princess Mabel spoke a great deal about you."

  "The pleasure is mine, Lady Clemearl."

  Silence for a moment,

  those golden eyes still studying me.

  "We'll speak more later, right now I need to resolve some diplomatic matters with Queen Caliope, but tomorrow, you and I will have adequate time."

  "Yes, Lady Clemearl."

  She smiled, small, almost imperceptible.

  "Until tomorrow, Sekire."

  And she turned, following Caliope out of the hall, probably toward some private office,

  and I finally breathed,

  really breathed.

  "You survived," Hinata whispered.

  "Barely."

  "But you survived."

  Fifteen Minutes Later

  I was in the garden with Fuyumi and Hinata, trying to calm down, when I heard it.

  "SEKIRE!"

  I turned,

  and was knocked over,

  literally,

  Mabel hugged me with so much force that we both fell onto the grass.

  "YOU'RE HERE! YOU'RE WELL! HOW ARE YOU? DID YOU IMPROVE? DID YOU LEARN NEW THINGS? ARE FUYUMI AND HINATA TAKING GOOD CARE OF YOU?"

  "Mabel... I can't... breathe..."

  "Oops!" she let me go, but was still smiling enormously, "sorry, I was just excited!"

  I stood up, brushing grass off my dress.

  "I noticed."

  She stood up too, and looked at me, really looked at me.

  "You're different."

  "How so?"

  "I don't know, more confident? No, that's not it, more present?"

  I didn't know what to say.

  "Training with Queen Caliope has been intense."

  "I can imagine! She's terrifying when she wants to be!"

  Fuyumi and Hinata approached, smiling.

  "Princess Mabel," Fuyumi bowed, appropriately.

  "Please, just Mabel, I've said this already," Mabel laughed, "how did she behave?"

  "Terribly," Hinata answered, honest, "etiquette is not her strong suit."

  "HEY!"

  "It's true," Fuyumi agreed, "she tried to eat meat with the salad fork."

  "SO WHAT?!"

  "And used her hands to pick up bread."

  "BREAD DOESN'T NEED A FORK!"

  Mabel was laughing, loud, genuine,

  "She hasn't changed that much then."

  "Definitely not," Hinata agreed.

  I huffed, but couldn't manage to be truly irritated,

  because for the first time in days, since finding out Clemearl was coming, I felt it,

  relief,

  Mabel was here,

  and everything felt a little less frightening.

  Rest of the Afternoon

  We spent hours in the garden, just talking,

  Mabel telling us about Umbralis, about the Netherheart Mansion, about Delta and Esther (especially Esther, and the curse, and why all of this mattered so much),

  about Lizbeth catching her and Ferme in a "moment" (which she insisted was COMPLETELY ACCIDENTAL),

  Fuyumi and Hinata laughing, making jokes, sharing stories about my etiquette disasters.

  "She really bowed like she was about to vomit?"

  "I DID NOT DO THAT!"

  "She did," Hinata confirmed.

  "Completely," Fuyumi agreed.

  "YOU TWO ARE TERRIBLE!"

  But I was laughing too,

  all of us were,

  and for a moment, I forgot,

  forgot about the test, the curse, the expectations, the anxiety,

  it was just four girls, sitting in the garden, laughing at silly things,

  normal,

  wonderfully normal.

  "Sekire," Mabel said after a while, tone more serious.

  "Yes?"

  "You'll manage tomorrow, I know you will."

  "How are you so sure?"

  "Because I saw it, and because you're you."

  The same thing Hinata had said,

  the same thing Fuyumi had implied,

  why did everyone believe in me more than I believed in myself?

  "What if I don't manage?"

  "Then we deal with it," Mabel took my hand, "together."

  Fuyumi took my other hand,

  Hinata placed her hand on my shoulder.

  "Together," they repeated.

  And for the first time, I truly believed it,

  not that I would pass,

  not that I was ready,

  but that no matter what happened, I wasn't alone,

  and maybe that was enough.

  Night - My Room

  Lying in bed, looking at the ceiling.

  Tomorrow,

  the test would begin tomorrow,

  the anxiety was still there, persistent, but smaller,

  because I had Mabel, Fuyumi, Hinata,

  because I had trained, improved, grown,

  because I had to try,

  even without feeling ready,

  even with the fear,

  I had to try.

  For Esther,

  for Clemearl,

  but mainly for myself,

  to prove, maybe only to myself, that I could be more,

  more than a survivor,

  more than a refugee,

  more than a frightened girl who never felt good enough.

  I closed my eyes,

  and this time, I slept,

  not peacefully, but with determination,

  because tomorrow, everything would change,

  for better or for worse,

  and I would face it,

  the best way I could.