"Oh, my god...!" Kisara tried to wipe her tears away, but another fell from her eyelid. She tried to wave air toward her face, all in a futile attempt to stop herself from crying.
In front of her was Amala, sighing and helping her dry her face with an already damp handkerchief. "Stop crying. Why are you crying so much?"
Kisara shook her head weakly. "Don't you understand? You should be...!"
"Should what?" Amala knew what she meant, but she pretended to not notice. Even though her heart also felt the same complicated emotion.
"Our Empress...!" Kisara exclaimed with her breathy voice, weakly, almost like a despairing whisper. "Did you see her previously? She's so cold and pale, and... oh god...!"
"It's not like our fate is better than hers, right? Stop crying for her," Amala groaned.
"It doesn't mean that what she went through is any better...!" Kisara yelled at her, shaking her head. "Stop acting so heartless. It doesn't suit you, Amala...!"
