My name is Kagamine Len, and I am the brother and humble servant of the queen of this country. This is the story of the events surrounding the downfall of the monarchy. I pray that, after my death, this letter will explain to the world my actions which may seem to them cold and heartless. I am no cruel psychopath who destroys innocents mindlessly. Everything I did was for one purpose and one only: to protect and cherish my sister, the queen. This was the oath I swore, and I have lived it to the end, although it has often led me to do things against my will. Please forgive me for those crimes committed by my hand during my sister's reign. My life has been an endless struggle between right and wrong. Maybe, when you read this last confession of mine, you will begin to understand. For such dreadful things to occur was never my wish…

The princess and I grew up as two of different ranks, although we were siblings and twins. My sister was pampered and served on hand and foot, while I was raised by the stable master, a kind man who looked after the horses of the royal family. He alone, besides my parents, knew the truth of my birth, a highly guarded secret. The princess did not know that we were brother and sister. In fact, I myself did not know until much later. Since we were born, I was always to be the servant, she the mistress. We did not play together; we did not confide in each other; and although I knew we had the same birthday, I never suspected that we could be siblings.

However, even as a young stable boy, I learned to love the delighted laugh of the princess when she rode her horse, Josephine. I always took special care to be there when she visited the stables. I wanted to be the one to tighten the princess's saddle and pull a stool out to help her mount. I did everything I could to make her happy.

As I grew older, I began to wish for a position in the palace. At my eager pleas, my foster father taught me reading, writing, math, etiquette—, everything I would need as a palace servant. My wish finally came true just before my tenth birthday, and, to my great delight, I was assigned to be an assistant to the head maid. In this way, I came in contact with the princess often, and served her as well as I could. She was still the untouchable idol of my childhood affections; I liked to believe that I was one of the servants she relied on and trusted the most.

Four years after my entrance into the palace, tragedy struck, and the king came down with a deadly fever, passing away in the night. The queen was devastated. After the funeral, she stayed in her chambers, refusing any visitors except a single lady-in-waiting who brought her her meals. The whole palace became overcast with a sense of doom: servants walked the hallways silently, scared to make a noise; cooks tried desperately to concoct delicacies with which to tempt the queen's failing appetite; and quiet whispers about how the queen was going to die filled the rooms downstairs. Every day, the princess went to the queen's door and pled for hours upon hours, begging her mother to let her in, and every day she was met with silence.

A week passed by, and then it became a month, but there was still no word from the queen. The princess lost her gaiety and animation, and moved through the halls with a sad sort of grace. I tried even harder to serve the princess well, but she either did not see or simply would not acknowledge my feeble attempts. Our fourteenth birthday came, but the princess ordered for everything to go on as normal; not one dared to prepare the customary festivities and birthday celebration. The day wore on slowly, and although I received several birthday congratulations from my palace friends, I was disconsolate. I wandered the halls and eventually settled in my room to work on some carvings I had started from a piece of hinoki cypress wood. A cluster of roses had nearly finished coming to life under my carving knife when there was a knock on the door and the stable master, my foster father, stepped in. I was excited to see him, but I cut my greeting short when I saw his clenched hands and furrowed eyebrows.

"What's the matter?" I asked worriedly.

He took a deep breath and said, "Len, I have loved and cherished you your whole life. You will never know how proud I am of you. You have grown and matured, and I think that you are ready to learn the truth. It has been kept long enough from you."

"Father…"

"This isn't easy for me to tell you. I have been struggling with whether or not I should, but you need to hear this."

He paused again, then spoke slowly and haltingly.

"Len, I am not your true father. Your parents… could not keep you, so I volunteered to raise you."

Perhaps it was wrong of me, but all I could feel was a keen sense of betrayal. My mind refused to admit that I had been lied to. I was angry, and my anger crept into my words although I looked away to hide my face from my father—no , my adopted father.

"Why, Father?" I said in a low voice. "If you loved me so much, why did you never trust me with the truth? Why are you telling me now, after fourteen years of a lie? And who were my parents?" He didn't answer right away, and as the silence stretched, I turned back to face him and was surprised to see the tears streaming down his face.

"You need to be strong, Len. I would not tell you this now, except for necessity. You know that I would never want to hurt you. You are my son, if not by blood, than by spirit, and I love you more than the world. As for your parentage, you know that you and the princess share a birthday. Have you never wondered why?"

Confused and frustrated, I sat down hard on my bed, when suddenly, an idea occurred to me, so impossible, so… unexpected, that I sprang to my feet just as quickly. "You mean… I am the princess's twin?" I looked to the stable master for confirmation. He nodded. "Wait… then I am a prince… and my parents…were the king…and queen...and the princess and I…" One thought led to another and another and another until my mind began to overflow and I could no longer speak.

The stable master smiled slightly. "Yes, son. You are the prince. In fact, you are a little older than your sister. By right, you are the heir to this kingdom."

I found my voice and, scared of what the answer would be, asked, "But then… why?"

"Why your parents did what they did is not for me to reveal. That you must hear from your mother, and Len, the queen is going to die tonight. A fortuneteller came and laid a curse on your parents for pledging to give you up. Your father would not live to see his children turn fifteen, and your mother would have thirty more days after his death to repent on what she had done. This is her last day."