She simply held him, her fingers tracing slow patterns through his hair. “Tell me about Cornaul, Misbah.”

  Misbah swallowed. "...It is a beautiful pce. Tall mountains that kiss the clouds. Golden sand that stretches for miles along the coast. Buildings painted in ochre, vermilion, and sapphire, as if the architecture were constructed from a rainbow." He paused, lost for a moment in the memory. "It was... as if the sun had given us a piece of itself to live on."

  Hiroki hummed softly. "Did you know? The sun is said to be the ancestor of the Dyssian Queen. She gifted our nation's founding Queen her celestial womb, and thus all her descendants carry the sun in their blood—and the right to the throne."

  He scoffed faintly. “If that were the case, the Sun ought to pick better descendants. Your current Queen is rather disagreeable.”

  She chuckled. “I merely said they cim the right to the throne. Not that they are all wise.”

  At that, Misbah couldn’t help but manage a weak chuckle.

  After a short silence, he asked softly, “Hiroki… if I were to die today, would you promise to be safe?”

  He felt her squeeze his shoulder, a little too tightly. “Do not say such silly things. I will not let anything happen to you.”

  "Humor me." He snuggled closer, pressing his face into the warmth of her chest. "You must be aware of your surroundings. The people you talk to. The Queen... she is vicious. I... I worry for you."

  She exhaled a small ugh, but it sounded strained. "I already—" She paused, as though swallowing something bitter. "I already told you. Nothing can kill me. Besides you."

  His heart twisted so painfully he nearly gasped. Tears spilled from his eyes, soaking into the silk of her robe. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that he would not be able to keep that promise anymore.

  Sniffling, he turned his head to gnce out the window. Opaque darkness pressed against the paper screens. Dawn felt a millenium away.

  “Hiroki… if I die in Dyss, do you think the stars would accept me? Or do I not belong here because I am Cornaulian?”

  A deep, shaky breath moved through her. Still, her voice was warm as sunlight. “If you wish to be among the stars, I will give up my seat for you.”

  “Then where would you go?”

  "Who knows?" He felt her smile against his hair. "Perhaps my spirit will stay tethered to the earth. I will gnce up at the night sky to find you. And when I see a star that shines brighter than any other, I will know then that I am looking at you."

  A pained breath escaped Misbah. “Even now… you say such sly things. Shameless woman.”

  She didn’t respond, just holding him tighter.

  A feeble smile curved his lips. Tears streaked his face, glistening in the dim mplight. “Stars… I want to go back home with you. Just to see it one more time.”

  No response.

  Then, suddenly, a violent cough tore through the silence.

  He felt her jerk, then heard something wet sptter against the floor.

  He gnced up—and his mind went bnk.

  Blood spluttered and poured from her mouth and nostrils in thick rivulets. Her arms slipped away from him, and she colpsed heavily to the floor.

  "Hiroki—?" The name came out of his mouth small and confused. He dropped to the ground beside her, grabbing her hand. "Hiroki?"

  She coughed again, more blood spattering against the floorboards. Her skin turned waxy, pale as moonlight. The crimson staining her mouth and chin stood out in sickening contrast. Her dark hair spyed across the wood like wide faults.

  Mind ringing, his gaze flicked wildly to the cups on the table, then back to her.

  All breath left him when understanding dawned.

  "You—" His voice cracked. "You switched cups—" His eyes widened as the truth consumed him. "That cup—that cup was supposed to be mine—I—you—"

  She drew a slow, rattling breath. Each word cost her dearly. "I have known... for a long time... that Her Majesty wanted me dead. It was... only a matter of time..."

  "No—" He shook his head frantically, tears streaming down his face. He tried to surge to his feet. "No, no—! I will find the doctor, I—"

  Her hand gripped his with surprising strength, yanking him back down. "Even if I were safe... she would only find other ways. None can escape... the Queen's wrath." Her eyes found his, and even now, they gazed at him with fond warmth. "I would rather it... be you."

  "No..." He pressed her hand to his cheek, holding it there desperately, as though he could anchor her to life. "I don't want you to die. I don't want you to die! Please—don't leave me..."

  Her breath gradually slowed. Despite that, her thumb still moved, tracing the tears on his cheek with infinite tenderness.

  “Misbah… You must protect yourself. Go home. Back to Cornaul. Back to… your real home.”

  He shook his head wildly, barely coherent through his sobs. "No...! My home is with you. You are my home. You cannot leave me. Please. Take me back. I want to be with you. Please." He tugged on her sleeve, over and over. "I am yours. You are my wife. Take me back home. Please. I don't want to be here. I want to be with you. With my wife."

  A smile, radiant and doting, curved her bloodied lips. "My flower." Her hand caressed his cheek without stopping, wiping at the endless tears. "My sweet, beautiful flower…"

  She breathed in again, lips parting as if to say something.

  But then, the st spark in her eyes dimmed.

  And the st breath slowly left her.

  The hand on his cheek lost its strength and slipped away.

  Misbah's breath hitched. He grabbed her hand before it could fall, pressing it back to his face, holding it there with both of his. “Hiroki—?” he called meekly. “Hiroki?”

  She did not answer.

  He shook her. Gently at first, then harder, then desperately.

  "Hiroki! Hiroki, wake up! Please—please wake up—!"

  Her gssy eyes stared at nothing. Her chest did not rise.

  Misbah stared bnkly. Then, his face contorted. A terrible sound escaped him. Then another. And another. Until he was howling, wailing, his cries echoing off the chamber walls

  He buried his face in her still chest and cried. He cried and he cried, and even if it felt like his lungs were ripping apart, he kept crying.

  And her arms never came up to hold him again.

  —{}—

  Time passed unknowingly. He didn’t know how long he wept. His throat shredded, and his eyes ran dry.

  The candles guttered and died one by one, surrendering to darkness. He remained kneeling on the floor beside his wife. His eyes, when he finally opened them, were empty as dried wells.

  Through the window, the darkness had softened to a pale, mocking indigo.

  Just then, the door swung open. At the threshold stood the silhouette of three women cd in dark colors, all armed with swords. Their boots thudded against the floor as they entered.

  Misbah merely looked at them without flinching nor startling. He didn’t care at all.

  “...Who are you?”

  The leading woman bowed curtly. “Apologies, Mister. We came on behalf of the Queen to finish the job.”

  He blinked once, slowly.

  "The General..." His voice emerged as a whisper, barely audible. "...has fallen."

  "Yes." She nodded. "But we must ensure Her Majesty's will stays within these walls."

  He did not move.

  The woman drew her sword. The metal sang as it left its sheath.

  "General Shimizu was resting in a guest chamber after a night's dinner with the Queen," she recited. "A Cornaulian man, disgruntled by the war three years ago, snuck into her chambers and assassinated her in her sleep before ending his own life."

  Misbah stared in silence, letting those absurd words settle.

  Then, his lips cracked into a smile. A breath escaped him. Then, a chuckle. Until he was fully, hysterically ughing. His ughter bounced off the walls and haunted the chamber like a ghost.

  “What a joke,” he gasped. “What a great, cruel joke.”

  He stayed very, very still for a stretched moment.

  Then, before the women could react, he surged to his feet and charged directly at the leading woman.

  She raised her bde horizontally before her body in a defensive posture. The other two women drew their swords, ready to cut him down.

  He didn’t attack them.

  Instead, he smmed his neck into the sharp edge of her protective sword.

  All was still for a single, terrible second.

  Then, Misbah’s body colpsed to the ground, nding beside Hiroki's corpse. A wide wound gaped in his throat, blood pulsing out in rhythmic spurts.

  He reached out a trembling, blood-soaked hand toward her and touched her still, lifeless face. His fingers caressed her cool skin, staining it with his own crimson.

  His body convulsed once… then stilled. His hand remained where it had fallen, resting against her face.

  .

  .

  .

  The final chapter of the story told of the remainder of the Shimizu household.

  Not a year after General Hiroki Shimizu’s pronounced death, Yuzu fell gravely ill and passed away in his sleep.

  His daughter, forced to carry on as head of the household, proved utterly unequal to the task. A serial gambler with no head for politics and less for managing the family estates, she squandered what remained of the Shimizu fortune with breathtaking speed. Within three years, the government seized what little was left—the nds, the properties, the st vestiges of a once-great name.

  When the Shimizu estate was finally demolished to make way for new construction, the workers discovered just the strangest thing.

  In the very center of the grounds, where the main hall had once stood, a single red spider lily grew from the ravaged soil.

  Its crimson petals unfurled like open cws, defiant and beautiful, despite the fact that nothing else would grow on that nd. Naughty children from the vilge would sometimes pick it, but it always withered the moment it was pulled from its roots. Within weeks, another bud would take its pce, blooming into the exact same flower.

  Some say it was a sign of bad luck. Others say it was the blessing of a flower deity.

  Who knows?

  Perhaps some spirits, lost on their journey to the stars, find their way back to where they belong. Perhaps, somewhere beneath that crimson bloom, there was a pce they could call home.

  pangmida