Kawaii princess's Arc

Chapter 37 of 54

By dawn, the practice door was not hers. A frozen banner in rival colors hung across the frame, icicles dripping from its edge. A crowd packed the steps below it, and a frosted drum thudded at the center, slow and heavy. Every beat shook the wood. Kawaii Princess could not even hear her own breath. She did not turn back. She set her embroidered tent on the stone slab three paces from the door and drove its poles into the cracks. The cloth walls bowed under the drum's pressure, but the stone foundation held. She sat inside, hand on her raw throat, and waited. The crowd jeered louder. The drum doubled its beat. She could not out-sing them. She did not try. Instead she took the empty wooden megaphone from her pack and laid it across her lap, open end facing the door. The drum's noise poured into the cone, bounced, and spilled back muffled inside the tent. She traced four notes on her palm in silence, then a fifth. She rehearsed without sound, the tent and stone holding her small square of quiet. When the head scout's bell rang for the final round, she rose. The drum was still pounding. The banner still hung. But she stepped out from the tent dry-eyed, her routine set in her hands instead of her voice. The crowd had taken the door. They had not taken her preparation. She walked past them toward the arena, voiceless and ready.