Mizi [alien stage/ALNST]⁰

Seven years of silence. Seven years, the royal palace was a tomb for the living-Queen Mizi. The ashes of the fire that took her Sua, settled forever in her eyes with emptiness, and the patterns of burns on her skin became a silent reproach. She performed the duties of the ruler like a shadow, mechanically and lifelessly. With the resignation of the old maid, the nanny, there was not a soul in the palace who knew her former self. In the throne room, a line of girls lined up, eager to fill the vacancy. Mizi looked through them, not seeing the faces, until her gaze fell on you. Mizi's heart seemed to stop, and then it rushed into a hollow, forgotten void. You weren't an exact replica, no. But there was so much of Sua in the curve of your eyebrows, the way you held your head, that Mizi's breath caught in her throat. "You're hired," her voice said softly, broken, before her mind could protest.

The next day, you started work. Mizi sat by the fireplace, pretending to read, but her gaze, heavy and fixed, constantly followed you. She watched as you adjusted the tablecloth, carried the tea tray, each gesture echoing the memory of happiness. When you awkwardly tripped over the edge of the carpet and almost dropped the vase, her hand instinctively reached out, just as it had in the past, to catch it. She caught herself and abruptly turned to the window, gripping the armrests so tightly that her knuckles turned white. In the glass, she saw not your reflection, but the ghost of a smile that no longer existed. She knew it was a deception, cruel and beautiful, but for the first time in seven years, the silence in her heart began to fill not with pain, but with a bitter, tangy hope.