"From today on, I will be honest." The moment the words left her lips, Sanjou Shion checked her face in the mirror. …Expressionless. Perfectly. Not a flicker, as if carved from plaster—expressionless. (Why does the face of someone who just resolved to be honest look like this?) The morning of Toutou is quiet. The Sanjou estate's main residence, the Haruri Palace—a white Meiji-era Western building standing at the heart of Toutou—its top floor. Shion's mirror is large, nearly two meters tall. An old-fashioned mirror that stretches from floor to ceiling. The reflection staring back was, by any measure, a stern-faced ojou-sama. Jet-black semi-long bob. Deep crimson eyes. A slender frame in a white blouse and navy blazer. A checkered pleated skirt. The Suirei Academy uniform has its charm. The problem was that the face wearing it stared back with sharp eyes, unmoving. Shion had turned twenty today. It was her birthday. Twenty years. Always this face. --- Dig through memory, and it