Akatori Tales - The General's Daughter

Mako has been on her feet since dawn. Basic skills, routines — when is there time to rest?

By evening, the abbot summons them to the reception room. And Hana is there too. When did they manage to get in trouble?

— All right, you slovenly girls, I need to have a word with the general. And you two keep his daughter company.

The general's daughter — Hilda — eyes the nuns with suspicion. The girl is very pale and breathes heavily, with a wheeze.

— And why did you tag along with your father? — The doctors say mountain air is good for my lungs. — Training is good for breathing. You're more short of breath than an amber goat.

Hilda doesn't respond to the rudeness. Mako doesn't like that; she's already gearing up for another jab, but Hana cuts in.

— What a beautiful dress… And your hairstyle! You must be tired of choosing among all the boys around you. — How can you say that! I'm engaged! — And when's the wedding? — As soon as I recover. — I see… Well, we're not exactly swimming in suitors here.

Hilda purses her thin grey lips.

—So what exactly do you do here? The nearest city is three teleports away. — We train. — Mako seizes the initiative from Hana. — We escort military personnel to the mining sites. And we train. — Aren’t you bored? In the city we have receptions, theatres. Theremin. Trips to the mineral waters. — We have plenty of water here too. But you clearly don't get enough training. I'm sick too, and without training I'd have been done long ago. — You're sick too? Like me?

Hilda covers her mouth with an embroidered handkerchief, her body shaken by a cough.

— I don't think so. I react badly to amber storms; without the monastery's influence, amber would have killed me long ago. But training protects me. I could survive thousands of attacks! — Thousands… Maybe I should try your training…

Hilda is seized by another fit of coughing.

Later, Hilda jolts along in a carriage, while Mako and Hana watch her go.

— She's so strange, don't you think, Mako. Completely different… — She's the same. What on earth is that "theremin" anyway?!

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