I Got Reincarnated as a Zombie Girl

That day passed quietly inside the castle. No bursts of magic, no grim tidings from the outside world at least, for now.

As usual, Sylvia had been in her study since morning. The pile of documents shifted steadily across the long black marble desk: fortress construction reports, lists of logistic distribution, even small notes on the growth of experimental crops brought from another world. She signed, corrected, and stacked them again with mechanical precision.

Celes sat on the other side of the desk, her slender body leaning gracefully against the tall chair. Her elegant fingers moved swiftly, reordering the documents by priority, sometimes adding neat little annotations. From afar, the two looked like black and silver statues, working in silent harmony. Only the scratch of quills against parchment broke the stillness, occasionally interrupted by Sylvia's long sigh whenever she encountered a wrongly written or redundant report.

"It seems whoever wrote this distribution report still thinks we live in an ordinary human city," Sylvia muttered, lifting a sheet of paper. Her eyes narrowed at the nonsense numbers. "Who calculated meat consumption for zombie soldiers?"

Celes glanced sideways, lips curving faintly. "Likely reflex. They're used to drafting reports under human army standards. I'll correct it."

Sylvia gave a small snort, setting the document aside. "Just fix it. I'm far too tired of counting trivialities."

They returned to their work. Time crawled unnoticed as the pale winter sun shifted westward beyond the tall windows.

Elsewhere in the castle, Sylvia's sisters still rested. Alicia and Stacia had been given adjoining chambers, each with wide beds, thick wool blankets, and small tables beside them. Since morning, they had slept from sheer exhaustion. Their wounds had closed considerably, but recovery still required time.

Alicia stirred only when the orange glow of afternoon slipped through her curtains. Her stomach clenched, demanding to be fed. She rolled onto her back with a groan. "Ugh… so hungry…"

Sitting up, her silver hair tumbled messily over her face. Rubbing her eyes with both hands, she let out a long sigh. "I can't wait until someone comes. At this rate, I'll starve before I recover."

She stood slowly. Her legs wobbled but held. Her slim frame was wrapped in a simple nightgown, yet her eyes gleamed with the determination of an older sister unwilling to let her sibling go hungry.

"Stacia…" she murmured, glancing at the door next to hers. "She probably hasn't eaten either. That child forgets the world exists once she's buried in books."

Sure enough, when Alicia pushed Stacia's door open, she found her younger twin already sitting at a chair by the window, pale face hidden behind a thick, weathered book. Her glasses had slid down her nose, her eyes glued to the page.

"Stacia," Alicia said flatly.

"…Hm." Stacia only hummed, turning pages without looking up.

Alicia approached, arms folded. "Have you eaten?"

"…" No reply.

"Stacia."

"Just a moment. I need to finish this chapter."

Alicia exhaled loudly and stepped back. "Exactly what I thought. You haven't eaten at all."

She closed the door with a click and marched toward the castle kitchen.

The great kitchen had not been used by humans in a long time, but several servant-zombies had been trained to light the stoves and prepare base ingredients. Alicia sighed in relief when she found a pot of broth still simmering over a blue magical flame. She ladled a bowl full of thick porridge, adding bits of dried vegetables and herbs. A simple, homely aroma filled the air.

"This will do," she muttered. "Stacia doesn't need anything fancy. Just something warm."

She poured the porridge into a porcelain bowl, took a spoon, and carried it carefully back to Stacia's chamber. Steam curled up against her face as she walked.

When she opened the door again, sure enough, Stacia was still reading. The book had advanced a dozen pages, as if time meant nothing.

Alicia cleared her throat loudly. "Stacia."

"Ah…" Stacia blinked, lifting her head slowly, looking dazed as if she'd just remembered the real world existed.

"It's late," Alicia said, stepping closer. "And you still haven't eaten."

Stacia opened her mouth to protest, but the smell of warm porridge reached her first. Her eyes widened slightly. "That's…"

Alicia pulled out a chair, sat right beside the bed, and set the bowl down on the side table. She blew gently at the rising steam. "If I leave you be, you'll die of hunger with a book in your hand. So, open your mouth."

Stacia's face turned bright red. "W-what?! There's no need for that! I can feed myself!"

Alicia smirked playfully, lifting a spoonful. "Oh? Really? You nearly forgot your stomach was empty, and now you suddenly say you can eat on your own?"

"T-that's not it…" Stacia ducked her head, her ears burning beneath her long ash-grey hair. "I… just lost track of time…"

Alicia leaned closer, spoon poised at Stacia's lips. "Lost track of time, she says. Open up, or I'll force you."

Stacia squirmed, her face redder still. She stared at the steaming spoon, then looked away. "I… I don't want to look like a child…"

Alicia stifled laughter. "Then don't act like one." She patiently blew on the spoon again. "Come on. Just this once. Think of it as repayment for me bothering with the kitchen."

Stacia clenched her teeth, then reluctantly opened her mouth. Alicia gently fed her the porridge. Stacia chewed slowly, eyes darting sideways toward her sister with deep embarrassment.

"See? Not so hard, is it?" Alicia's smile softened, her teasing gone.

Stacia hurriedly swallowed, then shielded her face behind her book. "Don't get the wrong idea. I… I only ate so the porridge wouldn't go to waste. That's all."

Alicia chuckled, her eyes glowing warmly. "Of course, of course. Whatever you say, my stubborn little sister."

The room filled with the warm scent of porridge and Alicia's quiet laughter. Stacia allowed herself to be fed several more spoonfuls, each one met with a blush and half-hearted protests.

Yet beneath it all lay something tender, a fleeting reminder that in a world of blood and danger, there was still space for family to sit together, share warm food, and strengthen each other in small, gentle ways.

And upstairs, Sylvia, still buried in her paperwork, paused briefly. Through the faint tug of her soul-bond with her sisters, she sensed their warmth. It brushed against her like a ripple, drawing the faintest curve to her lips.

"Good… at least they can still laugh," she murmured, before turning back to the waiting stack of parchment.

The little commotion between Alicia and Stacia faded, leaving the castle calm again. Upstairs, Sylvia sat in her study. Though the paperwork hadn't lessened, she had paused earlier, letting herself smile faintly at the warmth of her sisters.

She reached again for her pen, but her body interrupted first. A soft rumble came from her stomach, halting her hand.

"…I haven't eaten since morning," she admitted in her usual flat tone, though with a faint sigh. She often forgot meals, accustomed to enduring hunger, but this time she knew her body was demanding attention.

Her red eyes flicked toward the door. She knew Celes was still downstairs, likely as stubborn as she was. Sylvia stood, her long black gown whispering against the stone floor as she stepped out.

The castle's corridors were silent but for the flicker of enchanted torches casting light across dark marble. Her steps echoed faintly down the grand stairway and through the hall toward the kitchens, where the faint scent of firewood greeted her.

The castle kitchen was vast. A circular stone furnace occupied one side, with long wooden counters neatly stocked. A few servant-zombies stood idle, their blank faces turning briefly toward Sylvia before returning to stillness.

She went to the stove, lifting the lid of a large pot. Only a thin broth simmered. "Hm… not enough," she muttered.

From the storage shelves she gathered salted meat, dried vegetables, and a pinch of herbs. Her movements were not clumsy though rarely cooking, Sylvia still remembered old habits from Earth, when the small kitchen had been her refuge amidst chaos.

Nether Flame flickered in her palm, replacing the wood fire. The violet flames licked the pot, boiling the broth swiftly, smokelessly. The scent of stewing meat and herbs soon filled the air, warm and savory against the winter chill.

Minutes later, the simple soup was ready: a warm broth with softened meat and vegetables. Sylvia tasted it with a wooden spoon. It was plain, but enough.

"…Acceptable. At least it won't be shameful to serve," she muttered, lips twitching in a faint smile.

She poured the soup into two porcelain bowls, set them on a wooden tray with warmed bread, and carried it back upstairs.

When she opened the study door, Celes was still there, silver head bent over her papers, hand moving quickly. She only paused when the aroma of soup drifted in. Her eyes lifted, faint surprise flickering.

"…You cooked?" her voice was low, almost disbelieving.

Sylvia set the tray on the desk, sat, and slid a bowl toward her. "Yes. You haven't eaten since this morning either, have you? Don't deny it."

Celes stared for a moment, then a small smile curved her lips. "You're starting to sound like Sofia."

Sylvia gave a short snort. "Don't compare me to her. I just don't want my coworker collapsing from hunger at the desk."

Celes hid a small laugh and accepted the bowl with a nod. "Very well. Thank you, Sylvia."

They ate quietly, the only sound was the clink of spoons against porcelain. The simple soup was no feast, but warm and in that silence, it felt like a small gift amidst the day's endless paperwork.

Now and then, Celes's eyes lingered on Sylvia through the steam before dropping back to her bowl, lips curving faintly. Sylvia pretended not to notice, though her focus on the soup was a little too stiff to be natural.

When the last spoonful was gone, Sylvia set her bowl aside. "After this… back to work. I want all today's reports finished before nightfall."

Celes placed her spoon down gracefully and nodded. "As stubborn as ever."

Sylvia gave her a glance, then stood to retrieve her pen. "And you'll still be sitting here, as always. So spare me the commentary."

Celes laughed softly, a rare sound before returning to the stack of papers.

Outside, twilight deepened. The enchanted torches along the castle walls flared to life one by one, casting steady light on the stronghold. Inside the study, the two women sat once more across from each other, immersed in work, accompanied by the lingering warmth of soup that still steamed faintly on the desk.