sukimura line stood empty, cold, awaiting its master. Sakura blossoms drifted slowly from the gilded ceiling vents, summoned by the whisper of unseen fans, falling like ghostly con

black armor, edged in molten gold, caught the candlelight like fire licking through darkness, every plate molded to his broad shoulders and honed frame with merciless precision. A longsword hung at his hip, its hilt engraved with dragons, unto

ng, the gaze of a monarch who judged kingdoms with a glance and burned the

shimmered like moonlight on still water. Her hair was adorned with opal pins, and a thin silver sash cinched her waist. She was beautiful-unmistakably so-but unlike the others, her elegance whispered instea

, the Chief Judge emerged, an elder woman cloaked in silver and ash-blue, her eye

the sacred rites of the royal blo

low the color of dried blood. Resting on it, gleaming beneath the flame-light, was a

own of

e. Not yet. Only one would be crowned Queen. The rest would be discarded by exile, by disgrace, or by death. Tension crackled in the air. The throne room,

zaki, wore the crimson and black of the battlefield, transformed into silk and structured elegance. Her bow was sharp, spine like steel. Her word

i clan. Her robes were embroidered with scenes of ancient battles, and her hair wa

has fallen.

ade sheathed

re at the Royal Academy, and sister to the current Minister of Law. Poised and sleek in mi

sti

e s

t beside

rumors of court refor

tle to hide her sly eyes. Her family controlled the merchant guilds. Her spies were said to reach even into royal kitche

silently, murmuring prayers in a language older than the kingdom itself. Her eyes were unfocused, locked on som

ssings and phoenix feathers. She bowed with unforced grace, murmuring wishes for the health of the court. She was b

er kimono was an ethereal shade of pearl-gray that shimmered like moonlight on still water. No jewels hun

t's

ne hi

re of Ts

er sc

one to get in? Or j

whispers of an affair with a married lord-rumors untrue, but devastating. Cast out, stripped of her titles, abandoned by family. Now she stood reborn in shame before the same court that once applauded her musical recitals. Her re

ocating. Each maiden eyed the others. Alliances were already being formed

rward. He spoke so softly, yet

t here to w

paus

rove whether you d

e met with st

be eliminated befo

nued, unf

y wish you

e swept across them like a guillotine. And when it fell on Kiyomi again, it held-for a heartbeat-just long enough for her breath

not glance at the maidens, not even the most beautifully dressed among them. Not even the one who dared to meet his gaze. His tall form reached the edge of the silk curtain that marked the entrance to his pri

as if even the act of facing them again was beneat

ou

voice cool as

allen

of silence spread-antici

ot your

s glistened with cruel delight. Even among the other maidens, a few lips twitched, a few shoulders relaxed-as though relieved not to be the target. Kiyomi stood very

oice returne

up after the

cted. The guards remained impassive. The nobles smirked into their sleeves. The royal scribes kept their heads bowed, ink brushes frozen mid-stroke. And still, the King did not look bac

Majesty

will remember my name soon enough". She took it all in, every sneer, every name, every word they

ve them all. The sound vibrated through the stone bones of the palace. All eyes turned toward the high watc

trial begin

l? Mental? Deadly? The first culling, already? Questions bloome

was kind-but wary. Alread

had trul