The anteroom was the one place on Floor 9 without faces, a round room with a single door. Didi claimed the corner farthest from it, sitting on her folded cloak with her greatsword across her knees.
The household breathed around her in tired little noises, far too loud for a girl wanting silence.
'It is only furniture, furniture cannot judge a princess, I am perfectly fine.'
Across the room Loccy hummed over a tiny spirit stove, stirring a pot of mint leaves into steaming water.
"This room smells of damp socks and defeat," Didi announced to nobody, wrinkling her nose.
Juna called without looking up from her daggers, "Then sit by the door, princess, nobody's stopping you."
"I'd sooner sit in a puddle than take orders from a dog."
"A puddle's right behind you, princess, I can point if you like," she said, jabbing a dagger toward the damp corner.
"Dogs do not point, they fetch," Didi sniffed.
"Then fetch your own dignity, princess, I'm busy sharpening."
