Author's Note: Yet another random AU! In fact, this is actually a crossover—but before you run for the hills, as might be your understandable first impulse, please be aware that this is merely the Saiunkoku characters crossed over into the world of Anne Bishop's Black Jewels Trilogy.

There, now you may run for the hills.

I admit to loving those books an obscene amount way back when, and this AU was really too fun to write. There's more of it, but only scattered scenes from here and there—no narrative thread at all. As such I'm not sure whether to post them or not, given that I'm unlikely to ever finish this story.

Oh, and the story that Ryuuki relates about Kouyuu is actually canon. ;-)

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The basket was heavy, almost overflowing with assorted roots, herbs, and wild vegetables, and Shuurei kept having to shift her grip on the twisted wicker handle as her arms grew sore. She was tired, but it was the satisfying tired that came after a job well done: a day spent foraging in the Township's free territory always rejuvenated her despite the hard work involved. Not to mention the thought of how good the cache of wild truffles she had found would taste in that evening's stew.

She had spotted them in the lee of a large chestnut tree as they were heading back, sheltered by the raised and gnarled roots. Seiran had been sent ahead with the other basket to begin dinner preparations while she stayed behind to gather them. He had protested, of course, not wanting to leave her alone, but she had overruled him. What possible danger could there be, barely outside the town limits? There hadn't been a hint of unrest in the region since the conflicts of eight years ago, and since their Province was so close to the Territory seat it had returned to normality fairly quickly once order had been restored. Even the death of the Territory Queen a year before hadn't disturbed the course of local life beyond adding a bit more interest to the tavern gossip. Overall Roseford was a quiet, orderly township, and as its Queen that was exactly how Shuurei liked it. Seiran was just being overprotective, as per usual, and she had shooed him off.

Although granted he had been mulishly refusing to shoo until she reminded him of what would likely result if her father took it into his head that he should start preparing for dinner. The thought alone made Seiran go pale, and he had reluctantly agreed to go ahead of her-- though only after she had sworn up and down that she would come straight home after she was finished and send for him immediately if anything strange occurred.

The universal truth about males, Shuurei sighed to herself, was that they were completely impossibleto manage most of the time. Did none of them listen to reason? And Seiran was worse than most. As a red-jeweled warlord prince he should have been serving the Province Queen at the very least, and more likely serving at the Territory's Court . . . and yet he insisted with polite stubbornness on staying with them at Roseford. And somehow the Province Queen never asked for him. It seemed to Shuurei that she was rather afraid of him-- but why in the world would anyone be afraid of Seiran?

The wind toyed at her basket playfully, rustling the greens inside and tugging at her skirts. The tossing branches of a nearby cherry tree, exuberantly frothing with pale whiteish blossoms, caught her eye. Thinking that some of the delicate flowers floated in a bowl of water would make an excellent centerpiece for the table, she set her basket down at the roadside and reached for the branch-- but she wasn't quite tall enough, and the blossoms nodded just out of reach. It made her even more determined, though, and she jumped again, and then again, straining to reach them. She could feel Seiran returning, his familiar psychic scent and comforting presence coming up behind her, and she stretched up on her toes. "Seiran, could you--"

"You want this?"

Shuurei came down hard on her heels as a distinctively male and distinctively unfamiliar hand reached past her for the branch-- that wasn't Seiran's voice, either! But even as she turned the wind, capricious, gusted suddenly, blowing her hair into her face. She shrew up her hands to try to protect and clear her eyes, momentarily blinded.

"That was quite a wind," the stranger said inanely when it subsided, and Shuurei lowered her arms to see him. His psychic scent was indeed a lot like Seiran's, and he was as lean and broad-shouldered as her adopted brother, but there the similarity ended. Seiran generally wore serviceable, practical clothing, but this man wore dress slacks and a pristine buttoned shirt-- though the formal effect was somewhat lessened by the fact that his coat was slung over one shoulder, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his shirt open at the collar to reveal a hint of gold chain against honey-tinged skin. Their coloring was also entirely different, and not just the skin tone-- the stranger was golden wherever Seiran was pale, with straight, fine hair that was only loosely tied back and hung well past his shoulders. Unruly bangs framed his face but did nothing to shadow his bright bronze-gold eyes.

Shuurei realized abruptly that they were both staring at each other and quickly looked down, embarrassed. She blinked when she saw the flowering branch in his hand. "Ah! You broke it!"

"I didn't mean to!" he protested. "The wind blew, and . . ." he seemed briefly dismayed, and then extended the branch towards her hopefully. "Didn't you want it?"

There was something strange about his eyes, she thought to herself. Something that worried at the edge of her mind-- but he was waiting for her answer, branch still awkwardly thrust out between them, and abruptly she had to laugh at the absurdity of it. "I just wanted a few flowers for the table!" she said, taking it. "Well, there's no help for it now. Anyway, is there something I can help you with? You're not from town-- are you a traveler? Are you lost?"

He looked around at the trees and the rough lane that ran through them. "No, I'm visiting someone here . . . this is Roseford, right?"

She nodded. "We're on the outskirts of the Township, actually. I was just heading back myself, I can show you the way."

He leaned down and picked up her basket of dirty vegetables from where she'd left it. "That would be great, if you would. Places get lost sometimes, and I have trouble finding them again."

"Wouldn't you be the one who's lost?" Shuurei smiled, and made an effort to retrieve her basket-- one that he deftly avoided without appearing to notice it, transferring the wicker handle to his outside hand so that she couldn't hope to retain any dignity if she continued trying to grab it.

"How can I be lost when I'm always right here?" he said, perfectly serious but still smiling. "It's other things that move, my friend Kouyuu always says so. The library shifts places with the kitchens, and the stables can never be relied upon to remain in a single fixed location. Or so he tells me."

The stranger dropped into a rambling account of some of his friend's misadventures in finding his way from one place to another, with such disarming cheerfulness that Shuurei was too busy smothering laughter to be at all concerned about their chance encounter and who exactly he was, aside from the rather obvious conclusion that he was Blood. The occasional nonsequiturs he dropped into the narrative just contributed to the rambling pace of it, so that she barely even noticed as they traversed the familiar road that led towards Roseford-- and also to Rose Cottage and home.

"--but when we rode up to the house, his mother came out to greet us, and she praised the mare for a job well done-- and we realized that it wasn't Kouyuu who had finally been trained to find the way home, it was his horse!"

Her laughter at his story was cut short by a sudden tension in the air. They had already reached the gate of Rose Cottage, and Shuurei had her hand on the latch already when Seiran suddenly appeared on the stoop. He was only wearing his worn, serviceable clothing, but his normal humble demeanor and the cheerful smile he always greeted her with were completely gone. His silver hair seemed knife-sharp against the dimness inside the house, his shoulders squared and threatening, his lips drawing back in what promised to be a snarl-- but he wasn't looking at her; his suddenly intense blue-green eyes were focused on the man who had accompanied her along the path.

The stranger had stopped in his tracks and was staring straight back at Seiran, but he had not changed his bearing at all in response to the unspoken but unmistakable challenge. His coat was still over his shoulder, the basket was still in his hand, a faint smile on his face-- but something was off about him, something not quite right, like the faint breeze that was stirring the ends of his hair that Shuurei couldn't feel on her skin-- and her instincts were screaming danger--

She smacked the stranger in the arm and he jumped, his golden eyes coming back to her, blinking as if she'd just woken him up. "Stop that," she told him sternly, and then to Seiran, "you too, Seiran! He's just a lost traveler I met on the road, there's no need to get snarly. Look, he's carrying my basket for me. I invited him in for tea."

Seiran didn't relax, precisely, but the charged air eased a little. "You did?"

"You did?" the stranger echoed, his head tilting in a further silent repeat to the question.

"Yes, I did," she said firmly, opening the gate. "Unless you're in a hurry?"

"Hm, I don't think so." He considered Seiran, who was still looming a bit on the stoop, then followed her into the yard.

Seiran had his arms crossed over his chest as they approached, and he was frowning at her. "My lady," he said, his voice carefully stripped of inflection. The title of respect sounded more like a scolding. "Didn't you promise to send to me if anything strange happened?"

"What's strange about a traveler?" she said, somewhat irritated at the implied breach of trust. "We get those from time to time. It's what the road is for, after all. He's been perfectly polite."

Seiran hadn't moved from where he stood, squarely blocking the steps up. "We're already expecting someone. A message came while we were out-- the master says the Province Queen will be coming, and that she'll be bringing an important guest who wants to talk to you."

"Ah," the stranger said, before Shuurei could start on scolding Seiran for not telling her sooner. "That would be me, I think. Which would make you the Queen of this Township, I take it?"

She turned slowly and sized him up, suddenly wondering just what pendant the golden chain around his neck might hold. There was another glint of gold beneath his blond hair, now that she was looking for it-- an earring? "That's right. I'm Kou Shuurei of Roseford."

"I'm Ryuuki. Shi Ryuuki, of the Manor."

There was no need to ask which manor he was referring to-- the seat of the Territory Queen was the only house ever referred to so plainly. And of course as Queen of Roseford Shuurei was appraised of what had happened there, that rule of the Manor and the Territory had been taken over by-- "You're the Warlord Prince of Saiun Territory?!"

He appeared to consider. "Maybe 'interim caretaker' is more appropriate? Well, the title isn't really important." He smiled, his strange bright eyes demanding her gaze in return. "I have a proposition for you, Lady Kou."

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