Seven Years Ago

  Kei had been born to serve her brother. That was what her father had told her from the day she was old enough to understand the words—even if she didn’t yet understand what they meant. It was a bit confusing though.

  Because Kei had never met him.

  She knew of his existence of course, she’d seen him from across the room, or as he entered and left the estate from her window. It seemed all the servants ever did was speak about the young master this, and the young master that. And father only ever spoke well of him. However, since as far back as she could remember, the two of them had been kept separate, and she’d never been able to properly meet the older brother whose shadow covered her entire life.

  “It’s not fair!” She complained, pouting as her mother combed her hair. “I hate him!”

  Her mother was humming a simple tune—a lullaby from her homeland—but stopped to respond. When she spoke, her voice was tender, but firm. “Do not speak ill of your elder brother Kei Hayashi. Especially not in your father’s presence. You should know better should you not?”

  “But he’s not even here!”

  The comb stopped . “Nonetheless, you must speak of him the same, lest you repeat those words outside this room.”

  Kei glanced towards the lone window at the end of the room. The old glass was faintly green—a sign of its low-quality—and it had warped in some places, letting in a dull beam of light which stretched across the floor and illuminated the room. Their bedroom was much smaller than the other servant rooms, but since its only residents were Kei and her mother, that had never proven a problem.

  There was nothing exciting about the room, with its washed-out wooden floor, or the bed set with old blankets and sheets, but it was still home.

  Kei kicked her feet lightly against the bed frame. “But why? Why do I have to care for a brother I’ve never met? Why does everyone say I will have to serve him someday? What about me?”

  Her mother set down the brush and turned Kei to face her. She was young, barely a woman when she’d been taken from Nladia, but when she looked at Kei, her face was aged and worn. There was no anger in her expression—only worry and resignation. She sighed, smoothing down Kei’s hair with her hands.

  “Because your life will be easier Kei, if you do not fight what is already decided.”

  “That’s not fair…”

  “No. It is not.”

  Kei wished she could ignore the words, but she felt them settle heavily in her stomach anyways. She looked down at her hands, clenching her dress tightly.

  Her mother smiled, cupping Kei’s face lightly in her hands. Her thumbs traced small circles on Kei’s cheeks. “Listen to me little one, no matter what fate the spirits bring, we will have each other, yes?”

  Kei nodded, quiet.

  Her mother pressed a kiss against her forehead, whispering in her native language the only words she’d ever taught her daughter. “[I love you Kei]”

  Kei unclenched her fists, wrapping her arms around her mother’s thin waist. She buried her face in her shoulder. “[I love you mama]”

  ***

  Kei walked carefully through the hallway of the Ameas estate. She didn’t need an escort within their walls, but there were dangers all the same.

  Stand up straight. Lower your gaze, but be mindful of your surroundings. Lessons drilled through her head, stifling as the dresses she was forced to wear around the estate.

  Servants passed her in the hallway. Some were Edrian, born and raised in the same place as her. Others were Nladian, many torn from the war that continued to ravage the continents. But both looked at her with disdain. For all their reasons were different, the result was the same. She wasn’t a true servant, not like the rest of them, but neither was she a true member of the house.

  She was nothing.

  Kei walked straight into the door, her forehead smacking against wood as she fell onto her butt. “Ow…” She grumbled.

  Be mindful of your surroundings.

  “Please, come in Kei,” her stepmother’s voice came from the other side, warm, but firm.

  Kei opened the door and stepped into the room. The teaching room was far larger than hers, lavishly decorated and situated on the second floor of the manor with a large window overlooking the city. Kei’s stepmother was sitting near the window at an ornate desk, her long blonde hair catching the morning sun and cascading down the back of her tea gown. Across the desk from her was an empty chair for Kei.

  After bowing respectfully, Kei took her seat and their lessons began.

  From Kei’s understanding, in many noble families like her father loved to idolize, a governess would be assigned to teach the children in a room much like this one, but Oliver had been sent to boarding school, and Kei was not seen as a proper heiress, so she wasn’t worth the effort.

  No, her fate had already been determined. She would be trained as though she were going to be the head maid of the household—though being half-nladian, she would never be more than her brother’s attendant.

  It was her stepmother that had insisted that she receive any semblance of a real education, and she had taken it upon herself to provide it, treating her almost like a young lady instead of a servant.

  History. Her stepmother flipped through cards, each with questions upon them.

  “What was the principle cause of The Wars of Khadat?”

  Kei thought for a moment, they’d talked about this last week. “The fall of Xe’zhul’s empire in the south.”

  “That is correct, Xe’zhul’s death caused an interregnum as the numerous Sultans fought in various civil wars over control of the empire.”

  “In—interregnum?” Kei sounded out the word.

  “Ah, it means…”

  Arithmetic. Her stepmother glanced over a sheet of paper covered in numbers.

  “Hmm, all correct as usual. Good work,” her stepmother said, looking over the problems she’d given her.

  Kei smiled slightly. She was good at math, as well as most things that required memorization, but though her stepmother was fair, she did not dole out much praise.

  “Now let’s look at this one right here…”

  Painting.

  “Hmm,” her stepmother looked unimpressed with Kei’s work.

  Kei thought she was good at some things, but she was not good at art.

  Their lessons were interrupted as the door to the room swung open, and Thomas Ameas strode in.

  The head of the house was neither short nor particularly tall. Neither particularly thin, nor wide. In fact, he was by all accounts a relatively plain man. His eyes were a lackluster brown, and his hair was so dark it seemed to have no color at all.

  Kei watched quietly as her father’s gaze roamed the room before settling on her stepmother. Usually so stern, something about his eyes seemed softer than usual.

  It’s a good day! It must be!

  “Papa!” She ran towards him, throwing her arms around his leg.

  Thomas Ameas stiffened, but placed a strong hand on her head. “I have told you before Kei, do not call me that. ‘Father’ will suffice.”

  Kei deflated. “Yes father.”

  She looked up to meet his eyes, but he was no longer looking at her. “Charlotte, I wish for Kei to dine with us tonight, please ensure her etiquette is not lacking.

  Papa wants me to eat dinner with him? But usually that’s only on special occasions, so then…

  “Tonight of all nights?” Her stepmother looked puzzled. “What are you thinking dearest?”

  “Is it so strange for a man to wish for his daughter to sit at his table?”

  He called me his daughter! Kei felt his hand on her head, it was warm.

  “No, of course not, but—”

  “Then that is the only reason I need. See to it that her chores are done early as well. That will be all.”

  And then his hand was gone, and the door was closing behind him. Kei couldn’t help but reach out, stretching her hand towards his, but the gap closed and the door slammed shut.

  The room was quiet after that, save for her stepmother tapping her fingers on the table, brow furrowed in thought. Soon it passed though, and, with a sigh she took down the canvas and set it aside, pulling out a variety of silverware and porcelain from a chest nearby. She smiled at Kei. “I’m afraid we’ll have to cut our lessons short today Kei, let’s see how well you remember your etiquette.”

  Kei pouted, she hated lessons on etiquette. She had never been very good at it.

  Her stepmother glared. “No pouting young lady, it’s unbecoming. You want to eat with your father tonight do you not? Then you’d better be on your best behavior.”

  Kei schooled her face into one of faint enthusiasm. Yay! She loved etiquette!

  ***

  Despite the fact that he had been gone from the household for almost a year, Oliver Ameas’s bedroom was spotless. There was hardly so much as a speck of dust to be found, and the sheets on the bed were clean, washed at the start of every week and put back on the bed.

  This was the most important of Kei’s chores, as her father and the rest of the servants had reminded her at multiple points, though she could never understand why. They said it was important, and that she needed to understand her duties for when the young master returned. So each day, Kei cleaned the spotless room, which would sometimes be intentionally messed with just to test her. And each week, Kei washed the clean sheets and remade the bed.

  She grit her teeth as she fluffed up the pillows and looked out over the room. There was no room to slack, as the room would be inspected later, and Charles, the head butler, liked to leave traps for her—today’s had been a loose shirt hidden under the bed, to be picked up and ironed before hanging it back up in the wardrobe. She’d had to find a step-stool in order to reach high enough to hang it.

  Papa wants me to eat dinner with him. She reminded herself. Her chores were done now, and she had that to look forward to. Despite her dislike, she’d practiced hard with her stepmother. If she behaved herself at the dinner, then her father would… Well, she wasn’t sure what he would do, but surely it would be good!

  Kei walked quickly through the estate, but as she reached a certain area, she slowed. The garden of the Ameas estate was the best place in her entire world. It wasn’t particularly large—she could run from one end to the other in almost ten seconds—but that was okay, because in the garden, even more than by the windows on the second floor, Kei could imagine that she was somewhere else. She could pretend the tall walls that surrounded her refuge didn’t exist, and she was as free as the birds that flew in the sky above.

  She stepped into the garden, walking slowly along the stone path, letting her fingers trail over the leaves of short hedges that lined the way. She took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air, touched with the scent of carefully tended flowers, still blooming late into spring.

  She tilted her head back, staring at the tops of the walls that cut her off from the outside. They were draped with ivy, their rough surfaces touched by nature, but they were walls all the same. Her father claimed the reason she so rarely left the estate was that it would not be safe for her outside, but sometimes she thought that would be better still.

  She reached up, placing her hand against the stone, pressing her palm flat as though she could somehow push right through.

  “You should not be here.”

  Kei flinched, pulling her hand back as she turned to see one of the other servants, an Edrian, standing a few steps away, watching her with an unreadable expression. The woman’s posture was stiff, her hands neatly folded in front of her apron, and her face was still, like stagnant water.

  “You are expected at dinner,” the servant continued. “If you do not hurry and change, you will be late.”

  Kei slowly curled her fingers against her palm, letting her arms fall to her side as she lowered her gaze.

  “Yes, of course,” she said quietly.

  The servant didn’t respond, merely nodding and heading on her own way, not as though Kei were a guest, or a proper lady of the house, just another duty to be attended to. Though, she had stopped to snap Kei out of her daydreaming. And perhaps that was a kindness in and of itself.

  Kei looked at the garden once more, then turned away, her footsteps silent as she walked back towards the manor.

  ***

  The ‘dinner’ began long before the actual food arrived, the guests gathering in the main hall to drink and socialize. Kei was, of course, exempt from this, though her father had insisted she at least be present. To that end, she stood by her father, silent with her gaze down as the room slowly filled with people.

  One after another, they came to greet her father, thanking him for hosting, toasting their drinks, and speaking of plans they had yet to enact. During a lull in the conversation, she tugged on her father’s arm, and he looked down at her, removing her hand from his sleeve. As he looked at her, his eyes caught on something, and he adjusted her hair. A clip had come out of place, letting a few strands loose.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Be mindful Kei,” he said sternly, adjusting his own clothes as well. “You are an Ameas. You must present yourself impeccably if you ever wish to be taken seriously in this world.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” he scolded. “Listen to your father.”

  Kei nodded, glancing down. “Yes sir, I understand.”

  “Good girl,” he said, his tone suddenly warm. He placed a gentle hand on her head, careful not to mess up her hair. “You are my pride Kei, you and your brother will make this house strong. Now, what did you intend to ask me?”

  She felt a warm feeling bubble up in her chest. “Well… I just wanted to say, you have so many friends pa—father. It’s amazing!”

  Her father’s lips curled slightly. “Do you think so, Kei? I suppose you would. But listen, you must understand this—”

  He bent down to her level and grabbed her wrist. With a smile on his face, he met her gaze. She looked into his eyes, but though his lips smiled, his eyes did not seem to smile with them.

  “These men are not my friends, nor am I theirs. You are a merchant. An Ameas. We do not have friends. We have allies, we have debts, and we have our family. That is all. Do you understand me Kei?”

  Kei twisted her arm, but his grip was firm. She didn’t understand at all, but she knew better than to argue.

  “Yes father…”

  “Good, you truly are my daughter.” He released his grip and stood back up, turning away from her as he greeted another guest with the same cold smile, and Kei wondered if what he’d said was true. Something felt wrong about it, that she knew, but if her father said it, it must be right… right?

  As the mingling drew to a close, each person in the room filed into the dining room, where seats had been assigned to each guest. Kei was seated next to her stepmother, near the head of the table, close enough to her father to be recognized as family, yet not so close as to interfere with his discussions.

  The first course was served—delicate soup with fragrant herbs, and the conversation began anew. Kei sat with her back straight, careful not to let her elbows touch the table, just as her stepmother had taught her. She had to be mindful of her posture, her expression, the way she held her spoon. Everything had to be just right.

  It was a bit stiff, but she made her way through it, focusing on her etiquette with more focus than she’d ever mustered before. This dinner was important, she could tell. Though Kei wasn’t starved, she and her mother ate mostly simple meals except on special occasions, completely unlike the banquet before her. The food was luxurious, each bite bursting with flavors she’d never tasted before. It was food meant for important people, like the guests, like her father.

  Despite that, Kei could not bring herself to enjoy it. In fact, she hardly had much of an appetite at all, and each time she picked up the spoon, her hand trembled, threatening to spill soup onto the table.

  She could feel the gazes on her. Not her father’s—he had hardly glanced in her direction since the dinner had begun, and not the servants who circled the table pouring wine and replacing empty plates, they were mostly used to her by now. It was the guests, those who had never seen her before. Their eyes caught her, and she tried not to meet theirs in turn.

  The conversation around the table began harmless enough—a merchant boasted of fine silks he had imported from Elysia, a spirit knight discussed a recent Colossus hunt, and a nobleman speculated on the impact of a succession in a nearby duchy. At the head, her father listened intently, interjecting into each one with his own thoughts and stories. And he laughed endlessly, with a loud booming voice, as though he were afraid someone may not hear him.

  But soon, the conversation turned to familiar ground—the war. They spoke of battles won and lost, trade disrupted, and dissatisfaction with the war.

  “...Twenty-three years, and we’re still fighting those devils in the east.” A nobleman, Lord Ferview scoffed, swirling a glass of wine. “It’s pathetic. Have they not learned their efforts are futile?”

  “It’s not a matter of learning,” another nobleman replied coolly. “They’re like raging beasts. Conflict is in their blood and they’ll continue until they’ve been sufficiently beaten down. Or have you not seen such results in your own homes?”

  Kei kept her eyes lowered as they laughed at the joke, focusing on the polished wooden grain of the table.

  “Speaking of,” Lady Ferview mused, voice smooth as silk, “I understand you’ve been training one of them Ameas?”

  Kei flinched as the noblewoman addressed her father with no title. It wasn’t disrespectful per se, as he was below their station, but it was surprising to hear—he often insisted as being addressed with noble titles amongst his servants.

  “It’s a fine experiment, I should love to see if one of the devils can learn any true civility, and she has done such a wonderful job at this dinner so far.”

  Kei felt the words before she even registered their meaning. She didn’t look up.

  She heard her father exhale. “Lady Ferview, with respect, Kei is my daughter.”

  Kei couldn’t help but glance up.

  The lady smiled thinly. “Oh of course, I wouldn’t wish to offend. I only mean that blood is a stubborn thing, isn’t it. And her mother is still around? Are you not worried about what she might teach the girl?”

  Kei’s heart twisted, surely he would defend her mother.

  “I’ve ensured she will not indulge in any such bad habits,” her father said, voice clipped. “She has been raised properly, given a purpose.”

  “And that is?”

  “She will serve her brother and the family. Not as an heir, but as a servant. She has been trained as such. The education and etiquette she has received are at the behest of my wife.”

  Kei felt a gentle hand on hers—her stepmother’s. The woman was not looking at her, but she squeezed Kei's hand reassuringly.

  “I suppose she is to thank for keeping her so quiet,” the merchant chuckled.

  Another noble laughed. “A valuable trait for someone like her.”

  Thomas gave a small nod. “She knows better than to interrupt our conversation.”

  The knot in Kei’s chest tightened further, just a little.

  Lord Ferview touched a finger to his head. “Well, if she is to be raised as Oliver’s personal servant… perhaps an education is prudent, whatever she is capable of learning.”

  “Ah, you know my son?” Her father was quick to change the topic.

  “Secondhand. My boy is the same age. They seem to get on quite amicably from what I understand. You must be proud to have such a talented child.”

  “He is a blessing from the kings, there is no doubt,” Thomas agreed. “I must say in many ways the boy humbles his father.”

  “I only wish I could speak as highly of my second born,” Ferview laughed.

  And just like that, the conversation shifted. The nobles carried on as though their words had meant nothing, letting the flow of the conversation take them away.

  But Kei sat in silence, still caught in the nets they’d left behind.

  ***

  The dinner had ended. The plates had been cleared, the glasses emptied, and the guests had slipped away into the night with murmured farewells and polite bows.

  Kei should have gone to bed.

  She had waited, sitting stiffly at the table even after the plates were taken, expecting someone—her father, her stepmother, even a servant—to tell her it was time to leave. But no one had. Her stepmother had retired to bed early, and her father had walked past her without a word, rushing off in conversation with several other men. The servants had moved around her as if she weren’t even there.

  She had been forgotten. And so, in the confusion after the dinner, Kei had slipped away.

  Even as she wandered the dim corridors of the estate, stepping quietly against the floors, she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t just returned to her room. Her heart was beating in her chest, but she felt… excited. It was a rare thing, and she was relishing in it.

  Still, the manor was different at night. The shadow’s seemed to stretch further, dancing in the flickering light of the lamps that adorned the walls, and soon, she decided to return to her mother’s chambers.

  It was just then, she heard the voices. After the voices, she noticed the door. At the end of the hallway, it was cracked open, just barely. A warm glow seeped out from within, the scent of pipe smoke curling into the hallway.

  Her father was still awake.

  As she crept closer, she could hear him inside, but he was not alone. There were other voices, three of them, men she didn’t recognize. Their voices were low, but as she turned her ear to the crack, she was able to make them out.

  “...A mess,” one of the men was saying, his tone sharp with irritation. “You assured us this would be handled.”

  “And I am handling it,” her father’s voice replied. It was different from how he normally spoke, not laughing, not loud. Tired.

  A new voice spoke. “No, you’re delaying. The Dealers won’t accept any more obfuscation from you.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “I know what I owe,” her father muttered. “And I will hold to my end of the deal.”

  “Then act like it,” a third voice growled. Kei heard a chair scrape against the floor, followed by a brief rustling of clothes.

  Finally, the first voice spoke again. “We’ve tolerated your posturing thus far because you’ve been useful, that I will admit Ameas. But your debts are not something we intend to carry much longer.”

  Kei tensed. She’d never heard anyone speak to her father like that. She dared to shift closer, peering just slightly through the crack.

  In the study, her father sat slouched at his desk, a nearly empty glass in hand. Opposite him were the three men, wearing dark cloaks affixed with the insignia of a playing card on their shoulders. She didn’t recognize the insignia itself, but she knew what it meant, only certain groups wore unique insignias like those.

  They were spirit knights.

  But… spirit knights weren’t like these men were they?

  She watched as her father let out a long breath, running a hand down his face. He looked so much smaller than she knew him. The man who had laughed and drank with confidence at the dinner was nowhere to be found.

  “I just need more time. A month at most.”

  One of the men chuckled, the tallest of them, standing in the center. He was the one whose voice she had heard first. His dark hair was slicked back, and she could tell simply from how he stood that he was in charge. Looking at him, she felt something cold seeping out from the room, goosebumps breaking out on her arms and legs.

  “Time. You speak of it as though it is such a cheap thing.”

  Her father’s jaw tightened.

  “Fine, I will grant you your month. But no more. Do not disappoint me again, Ameas.”

  And just like, the men turned to leave.

  Kei startled, backing away from the door, heart pounding. She needed to leave, before they saw her, before they—

  The floor creaked beneath her foot.

  Their gazes fell on her, flickering with recognition. For a moment, the tall man’s red eyes met her own, burning with hate. Kei lost the ability to breath, the air squeezed from her lungs as something pressed on her from all sides. Her vision dimmed, her knees grew weak, but she couldn’t even collapse.

  Then, they brushed past her, and her breath returned to her in gasps. She could hear their footsteps as they made their way down the hallway, but she didn’t dare look back. Slowly, the footsteps grew quiet, and then disappeared. She let out a breath of relief.

  Too soon.

  Her father turned. Their eyes met. With a slow, deliberate motion, he set down the glass.

  “Kei.”

  She stumbled back. “I—I was just—”

  “Come here Kei.”

  Stiffly, her legs obeyed, walking towards her father.

  He didn’t speak as she approached, his expression masked. When she came within arm’s reach however, he grabbed her wrist firmly.

  “You should know better than to eavesdrop, Kei.” He whispered, voice cold. “I thought you were a well-behaved daughter.”

  Kei’s swallowed, her throat dry. “I wasn’t—”

  His grip tightened.

  She flinched, and something dark flickered across his face.

  “You don’t listen,” he muttered. “None of you do.”

  Kei’s stomach twisted. “I didn’t mean to…”

  Her father took a breath, releasing her. He turned away, rubbing his head as he grabbed another bottle from the shelf on the wall. “Go to bed Kei.”

  She didn’t hesitate. She fled down the hall, feet carrying her towards her mother as fast as she could.

  In the darkness behind, she could hear her father muttering to himself, low and bitter.

  “Useless. All of them… useless…”

  The door swung closed.

  By the time she reached her mother’s room, Kei was shaking.

  She opened the door quietly, trying not to wake her mother, but surprisingly, she was still awake, sitting on the edge of the bed while she mended a tear in one of Kei’s dresses in the dim light.

  Her mother glanced up as Kei entered. Her expression softened. “Ah, little one. Did you behave yourself at the dinner?”

  When Kei couldn’t bring herself to respond, her mother’s brow furrowed. She set the dress aside, holding out her arms. “Come here Kei.”

  Kei shut the door behind her, moving across the room slowly, her wrist cold where her father had grabbed it.

  Her mother’s warm arms enveloped her, pulling Kei tight against her chest. “You’re trembling,” she murmured, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Kei’s ear. “What happened?”

  Kei opened her mouth, but no words came out. She hugged her mother tighter.

  “Oh… Kei” her mother ran her fingers through Kei’s hair, whispering to her that everything would be okay. The motion was soothing, and her heart began to calm, her thoughts started to slow.

  Everything will be fine.

  Tomorrow will be normal again.

  But the night wasn’t over yet.

  ***

  She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she’d calmed enough that she was drifting off, cradled in her mother’s arms. Then the door slammed open.

  The sound jolted her awake, and her mother startled, letting out a sharp gasp as her grip tightened around Kei.

  Thomas Ameas stood in the doorway, his face cast harshly in the candlelight. His coat was askew, and only half-buttoned, sloppy. The scent of wine drifted off of him, thick and heady, pressing into the small room. He lingered in the light for a moment, swaying on his feet as his expression twisted through something unreadable. He muttered something under his breath, and then he stepped inside.

  Kei’s mother got up from the bed, stepping between them. Her voice shook as she spoke. “My lord, it is late. What is—”

  “Be silent, Naomi.”

  She recoiled as if she’d been slapped, and Thomas’s eyes fell on her for a moment with a look Kei had never seen. He shook his head, his gaze turning to Kei.

  “She doesn’t listen.”

  Her mother spoke softly, as though she were afraid to raise her voice more than a whisper. “She is just a child.”

  Her father scoffed. “A child,’ he echoed mockingly. “Child or not, she sabotages me each day. I ask you for obedience, and in exchange I house you, I feed you, and yet all I’ve raised is an ungrateful half-devil waste!”

  Kei’s mother clutched his arm. “Please, my lord—”

  A sharp crack rang out, and her mother fell to the ground, clutching her cheek. Kei scrambled back in the bed, pressing herself against the wall.

  His words were sharp, but rambling, as though his thoughts were scattered and disjointed—frustration aimed somewhere else, not entirely at Kei, or her mother. She watched as his hands clenched, then unclenched. His eyes were looking somewhere else.

  “Damn those bastards,” he muttered. “All of them! Posturing, smirking—acting as though I am the fool while they dine in my home. They drink my wine, indulge in my hospitality, and then they turn around and sneer. They think I don’t see!”

  He looked back at Kei, his words slurring. “I built this family. Me! I raise you as my own, pulling you all from the dirt, and this is the thanks I get. My servants conspire against me, my allies stab me in the back—my daughter looks at me with fear.”

  He stalked across the room towards the bed, reaching towards her.

  And Kei flinched.

  His hand froze, his breath catching.

  “You think… you think I would hurt you,” he said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement, or perhaps a realization. His voice had gotten low, hoarse. “I’m not him…”

  His fingers twitched, and he turned away sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “I’m not him,” he muttered. “I am not him!”

  He threw his glass against the wall. It shattered, spraying across the floor as the remnants of wine stained the paint, dark red liquid running down the wood like blood.

  Kei gasped, covering her head as a small, choked sob crawled out of her chest.

  He looked around, towards Kei’s mother collapsed on the floor, then at Kei, his dark eyes wide with… fear? It was as though he was seeing it all for the first time.

  His breath hitched, and his legs gave out. Her father sank to the floor, leaning against the bed for support as he buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking.

  For what felt like hours, no one moved. No one dared. Kei didn’t understand. She didn’t understand at all. But eventually, her father raised his head.

  “Come here Kei.”

  Without thought, Kei felt her body move. She came to a halt just before her father, almost even with his eyes in his slumped form, she couldn’t take another step.

  “The men beyond these walls, Kei? They don't love you. They never will. They will forever hate you for what you are. Beyond these walls you have nothing. But I… I will always love you. I just want you to behave, to be a good girl for your father. You of all people, please Kei…” His voice was hardly a whisper. “Kei… you know we’re family, right?”

  Kei didn’t know what to say. She had no name for how she felt. She just wanted things to be okay again. It was her fault. She’d done something she shouldn’t have, and now her father was upset. If she’d just behaved, none of it would have happened. That’s what he meant, and he wouldn’t lie to her. He was her father, he loved her.

  Father loves me… It’s my fault… I’m sorry…

  And Kei did the only thing she knew how to do. She knelt beside him, wrapping her small arms around his shaking frame, and whispered the words she hoped would make it better.

  “[I love you] papa.”

  She felt him stiffen, his breath catching in his throat.

  And though he did not hug her back, he didn’t pull away.