Prologue

Once upon a time…

This is the story of one girl and her kin, begun long ago.

A tale of joy and grief, of love woven through blood, and of the quiet weight of regret.

The first page bore a letter, penned by a girl with a steady hand.

To the cherished members of the Emmental family,

To my father-in-law, my mother-in-law, my three elder brothers-in-law, and to Stella—my true sister-in-law—I offer this final gift.

I thank you, from the depths of my heart, for raising Spica, for holding her close, for loving her, until she turned eighteen.

The years we shared as family are a treasure I cannot return, nor ever replace.

It pains me deeply that I have nothing but myself to give in return for the grace and love you have shown me.

And so, I choose to repay you—not in duty, but in my own will.

First, to my father-in-law, the head of the household, and to Cain, my future elder brother, the heir apparent.

I wish to accept the mantle of the Virgin of the Barrier.

Though it may seem bold, I offer my strength to you both, who carry the sorrow of a household weakened by time and failing hands.

Next, to my mother-in-law.

As you once spoke of beauty with longing, I have designed a few gowns and jewels, each a small echo of your grace. They may not match your taste, but I hope you will remember them when new silks are drawn. The blend of tea meant for you has been entrusted to the head chef and to Marisa, the lady-in-waiting. Drink it when your body falters.

To Alex, my elder brother-in-law,

I offer my magic eyes—forgive me for withholding them so long. From this moment forward, you will see the world through my sight, and in that seeing, I shall no longer feel alone.

To Fret, my elder brother-in-law,

Fret Elder, you have always cherished my clumsy hands and unsteady work; thus, I give you the tassel for your sword and my Sacred Stone,

a token not of worth, but of trust. Lastly,

Stella Elder Sister,

you are the family I never knew, the kin I longed for. I return to you the true family I could not give—my heart, my oath, my sorrow. I am truly sorry.

Spica von Emmental

The script wavered, blurred in places by tears.