Piano Sonata Number 1.
Exciting news has been announced in the newspaper:
The emperor has died. Therefore, the most important question is: Who will become the next emperor?
The death of an old king is, of course, a natural thing to occur. But it is weird, more so odd, that he did not die of an illness but died choking while drinking wine. Furthermore, the circumstances surrounding the king’s death are to be thoroughly investigated. Nevertheless, the question of who will succeed him still remains the most prominent question. The names of many of his sons have been given as those of the crown prince. But I assure you that all of it has been a false rumour, and now, I, the “Divine Priest,” whom everyone knows as the one who serves the divine goddess, confidently claim that five successors have been indirectly chosen.
These five holy successors have been given a special present: a golden apple hidden amidst the silver frame of their portraits. Moreover, upon finding a golden apple, the successor must create a tale: a tale of heroes, and must choose a suitable set of supporters as his own vouchsafers. Then he must, of course, fight to the death with the other four successors. It is going to be the most spectacular event that no one has ever seen…
Peach Mitani poured herself a tea. It was freezing outside, so she poured it and sipped it, and then she mumbled to herself: “So ridiculous, and why does it seem to be so particular and pointless?”
Piano Sonata Number 2.
Peach Mitani was hearing a strange voice in her head.
There was once an emperor, and now he was dead.
What does this mean? Who is dead?
Our khabugun. The head shaman says that our khabugun is dead.
Then who is to be our next khabugun?
Peach Mitani poured herself a tea. She read the newspaper. But then she suddenly shifted in her seat and concluded that she had already read the newspaper.
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Piano Sonata Number 3,
Peach Mitani was a concubine of a low rank, and as a result, she did not know that it was required of her to serve the next ruler.
She was as clueless as a blooming rose. But despite this, she was intelligent enough to understand that there was soon to be bloodshed that was going to be spilt, and it was unsettling, and it was disturbing.
Nonetheless, the throne was empty now, and Peach Mitani felt like she was finally free to do whatever she liked to do.
Piano Sonata Number 4.
Peach Mitani was only fourteen years old. She was fourteen years old, but she was exhausted, and the never-ending year she spent at the Golden Palace turned her into an unfeeling ghost.
It had been known before, even before she had been thrust into the Main Palace, that there was only one way to live peacefully there, and that was to feel nothing, to hear nothing, and, more importantly, to not get attached to anyone whatsoever. However, since the king was dead, Peach Mitani fancied that she could entertain herself: take a stroll in the Serenity Garden, something she would have never dared to do if the king were still alive and well.
…
“It is most unfortunate that our emperor passed away so abruptly.”
“My lady, what do you mean by that?’
“The emperor has passed away, and I am naturally trying to get a hold of myself. But to make yourself drown in sorrow for quite so long is dreadful and suffocating; after all, it's all just an act, and to think that I have to act like this forever and ever is morbid, as it seems to be quite challenging to elevate the fifteenth prince to the position of the emperor.”
The last line has been said by a very beautiful woman who wore an expensive cloth made of silk. Moreover, it was evident that she was a noble consort of the deceased emperor: a man stood next to her, but she could not recognise him; he looked like he was some sort of minister.
Peach Mitani instinctively knew that they were unapproachable, which is why she immediately became alert to the behavioural language of these two people.
In her shadow, she quietly hid herself.
“He is dead.”
“I know that he is dead.”
“What about the other one?”
“He is going to die soon. I am going to kill him.”
“My lady, are you saying that you have already?”
“Not yet. But there is still some time.”
“Yes, there is still some time. So you don’t need to rush,” answered a man in her shadow.
Some whispers have been thrown away. Some doubts have crossed Peach Mitani’s mind. For the tenth noble consort, Turakine, and the man in her shadow, were not ignorant or foolish. On the contrary, they were both numb and shrewd. Therefore, they were whispering whatever was going on in their twisted heads, akin to sirens. Their vocal range was quite subtle and melodic, and in normal circumstances, an ordinary human would not have heard their dialogue. However, Peach Mitani had an exceptional musical talent: the Blue Sky gifted her with enhanced hearing; furthermore, she could even hear the voices behind the curtain.
Behind the curtain, the crescent moon was blooming.
It looked like a crestfallen hero of ancient times.
The shadow was bleaching itself too.
Peach Mitani got herself out of her shadow to run, to get away from the thread of webs that was slowly pulling her into the nest of descendants of the blue wolves.
When she finally situated herself on her bed made of cherry blossom tree, she had already forgotten what she had heard, and even if she was going to live the rest of her life as a mute buffoon, she was not going to get involved in the marital affairs of the main palace.
