It has been almost six hours since Anastasia last saw Phelan and she has yet to open the mysterious box.

She sits quietly by a small stream, wanting to speak to her reflection but only sees the clear blue sky and floating white clouds.

To her left are a few flowers she picked in honor of Phelan, she sighs, "I'm sorry that you died, Phelan. But since you didn't become a ghost, I'm glad you've moved on."

Anastasia braids the flowers together into a crown and allows it to float down the steam, "Please be happy in your next life if there is one."

She sucks in her blue lips and stays silent for a while until she believes she had given Phelan enough respect.

"So this is how you looked like your sister," Anastasia opens the box. It has about twenty little bottles filled with a clear liquid like water.

"You're right. Your people shouldn't die because they're caught between my mum and the Emperor," Anastasia's hand trembles as she takes a bottle and drinks it.

It burns her decayed throat.

She screams with all her might in hope that her pain will go away. The pain that was initially at her throat has now traveled throughout her fragile body.

Anastasia falls back against the grassy floor and tosses herself all about the wild flowers, destroying their lush colors.

At last and all of a sudden, the pain disappears like it was never there before. She is not fully firm like the living.

She sits back up and sees the fiery hair she admired fall on her shoulders. Her breasts grew into a beautiful shape. Her skin is tainted in a pink color like undead blood is flowing through her veins.

Yet she knits her eyebrows in disappointment, "I still can't smell the flowers that are all around me. I still can't see my reflection on those waters. There is still no shadow under my figure."

"Are you alright, young lady?" Someone calls from a distance.

Anastasia clenches close to her heart with a soft smile, 'People can see me!'

"What in the world?" The person says and rushes back to the group he is traveling with. He says to the Rice Emperor's proxy, "It seems your suspicion was correct. The real Princess is over there by a stream."

"Show me," the proxy wears a serious face and moves ahead with the person to see Anastasia.

"That's not the real Princess either. She's not wearing her old clothes but at least she has the box she won't part from," the proxy pinches the bridge of his nose. "Shit!"

The person purses his lips to the side a little, "What do we do?"

"We'll take them both to the Emperor. Then I'll go find the real one myself," the proxy takes off his coat and covers Anastasia with it.

To her, he says, "Princess, I don't know who is the real you, but I'll escort both of you to the Emperor."

"Thank you." Anastasia takes the proxy's hand and goes into another carriage.

It takes another long and tedious journey of twenty seven hours before they approach the Capital of Rice during noon.

The city is encompassed by thick brick walls and towers above five times the average Rician man.

"Proxy," a man comes out to greet them. "Welcome back. The Emperor is waiting for your return."

"I'm pretty sure it's not me who is waiting impatiently to send you a greeting. It's his young concubine, rumored to be the most beautiful woman of the Walish Nation."

"You still haven't changed. Well, if you know, quickly you're way to the palace and present to Him is bride," the man gestures for the gates to open and allow the proxy and his company to pass through.

The people of the Rice Capital knew that the proxy was bringing back a Princess of Wales to wed their Emperor, so all people of class followed the proxy and his company up until they entered the palace, wanting to take a peek and the most fair and graceful Walish woman.

"Come this way. His Majesty is waiting for you and his bride," an court attendant approached the proxy before he even got off his horse.

"Take the Princesses to their quarter, His Majesty will meet only me today," the proxy gets off his horse and strides toward the Emperor's study room, disregarding his exhaustion.

"B—But." The attendant is too late, the proxy is already far away. He turns to the carriages and asks, "Princesses?"

The proxy makes his way around a grassy area where soldiers train in a style combat that uses swords and kicking, pass a long rectangular lilies pond where the harem flourish with bitterness, and then through a garden of sand.

At last, he sees the Emperor pretending to look about his textbooks and writing decrees.

The Emperor looks up with rather dim and mild eyes and gestures for the proxy to enter his study room, "Come. I've been waiting for you."

"I will not try to hide from you, my Emperor," the proxy kneels with his forehead against the ground toward the Emperor. "I did not bring you the Princess, but two Princesses—"

"Are they beautiful nonetheless? Are they unique enough to be in my harem?"

The proxy struggles to answer the Emperor, "Um... I—Um. They look exactly the same. It is difficult to differentiate between the two."

"Twins?" The Emperor rises from his seat and swirls his finger with his cowardly beard, "I must see them."

"Come on. Take me to them," the Emperor rushes out of his study room. "What are you doing there? Trying to make me angry?"

"No, Your Majesty. You mustn't run too fast, your health hasn't been well lately," the proxy follows behind the Emperor.

The Emperor stops to scold the proxy but decides that it is not energy well spent. Instead, he ignores it and continues onward to see his brides.

Suddenly, the Emperor stops himself and hides behind a column.

"What's wrong, Your Majesty?"

"Sh!" The Emperor also hides the proxy with him, "They're young indeed. Look at their fair skin. I can only imagine what's awaiting me underneath those clothes."

"Do you think they'll find me repulsive because they're so young and I'm not so young anymore?"

The proxy swallows his saliva nervously and then answers, "They're here to be your concubines. It doesn't matter if they find you repulsive, Your Majesty. They already accept you as their husband."

"Why are we hiding?" A young gentleman pops from the Emperor's left.

"You've startled me," the Emperor places his hand on the young gentleman's face. "Why are you here, Prince Jhaan?"

"The same as You, Father. Your son wanted to see Your new concubine," Jhaan answers with a playful smirk.

The Emperor laughs, "You got that from me for sure. But I cannot let you have them until I have them first. Even if you're my favorite son."

"Your son does not intend on enjoying Your harem like the Crown Prince," Jhaan shakes his head and moves away from the column. "Well then, Your son has seen enough. Your son shall be going, Father."

"Their nipples must be as pink as the peaches from the North," the Emperor bites his lower lip, not hearing Jhaan at all. "Will this body be able to keep up with them?"

Jhaan rolls his eyes, knowing that his father will not see them. He turns around and continues his way to the training ground on the East side of the Palace.