龍和鳳凰- Lóng hé fènghuàng (Dragon and Pheonix)

-The little red silk sack sat on the wooden table. The tea sacs inside released a soft fragrance. London poked at the little sack, feeling its smooth texture. "Arthur!" she beckoned as she saw him enter the room. Her brother turned to her, his blonde hair bobbing softly in his surprised reaction. '

- "London" he smiled, "I didn't see you there!"

-"We received something in the mail," she smiled.

-"Hm?" Arthur approached her curiously.

-"It's addressed to…well, it's supposed to be for me, I supposed. I wasn't addressed to anyone. IT was brought here by foot. Someone came and personally delivered it," she explained remembering the elegantly clad Chinaman who presented it to her that morning.

-Arthur looked at the red sack and quickly turned his gaze away. "That was nice," he said in a constricted voice.

-"Yes, but I don't know if I should accept it.."

-"You need to accept it!" he exclaimed, his voice ridden with anxiety.

-"I don't even know who it's from! I only saw the man who delivered it! I recognize neither the courier nor the gift!"

-London sat deeper in her chair as if it would protect her from her unusually overexcited brother. Arthur hung his head.

-"You need to accept these gifts," he muttered

-"These?" London had only remembered receiving one.

-"They are from Yao, Yao Wang."

-"China?" she asked. She had seen Wang several times in her youth, but didn't remember him with any sort of emotional connotation. She had hardly been near him enough to even say she knew him, let alone was on talking or gift-giving terms with him. She gazed at the sack and to her brother, confused. It all came together now, though. The red silk, the Chinese man, it seemed so obvious. What she didn't understand was what was making Arthur so nervous. He was a mess, in a single moment he had totally destroyed his neat hair by grabbing at it and began sweating profusely.

-"Yes." he replied. His voice sounded sick, like the nauseas voice of a person ill with a horrible stomachache.

"Arthur?" she asked, concerned.

He looked at her. He was dewy looking and his eyes were lit by paranoia. His limbs and lips trembled as he opened his moth to reply.

-"It's your wedding gifts."

-The information didn't process. "What?" she asked.

-"Wedding gifts" he repeated. The world seemed to turn in slow motion. He ahd to be kidding. He always pulled jokes, she told herself. She wanted to start laughing, but the sweat dripping of his face told her he was telling the truth.

-"Wedding gifts?"

-"It's Chinese tradition to send the bride gifts as a type of—well, actually I'm not sure." He stammered.

-"Who am I marrying? Did you tell your friends I was getting married? I should have expected you to tell some story you couldn't get out of," she sighed and even laughed a little. For a moment, he had actually terrified her, but she could see the situation all too clearly now. It wouldn't be the first time Arthur had told some story to try and make himself seem impressive while he was drunk with his friends. He almost always told such ridiculous tales that no one ever believed him even when they were equally stupid and intoxicated. This time, he had simply blurted that his sister was getting married, and never had the bravery to face them and tell them it was a lie. All she had to do was kindly call them and explain—

-"No, I arranged you to be wed."

-Her fantasy shattered into pieces. "What?"

-Arthur stepped nervously side to side. "You'll be happy! It's for the—"

-"What do you mean 'arranged'?" she shouted, infuriated. She was still sitting, but her anger roared in her voice with the full power of a man standing prepared for a brawl. She would have very much liked to stand and prepare to beat her brother; bus the shock of the revelation forced her in her seat. She was scared and angry. Englishwomen were not forced into arranged marriage! It had been years since she had even heard of that! She was London, the little sister of Arthur Kirkland. He had promised her since childhood a beautiful wedding. She was going to marry her prince, her dream man. The broken shards of her childhood dreams glimmered in the light of this new knowledge.

-"you're marrying a man I thought best…"Arthur tried to explain.

-She laid her face in her hands. Terror drove back tears. She tensed and tried to fight back her emotion. She felt as if she needed to protect herself, that a threat was darting closer to her; a feeling not unlike those in her deep battles with her and Ludwig decades ago. She tensed, but the only other person in the room was her brother, and at first she could see no threat. She glanced at him and realized with horror that he was the enemy who she sensed and fell motionless, her heart torn with sorrow. She was beyond helpless and hurt; she would surely be destroyed if her brother truly was her enemy, for she could never fight him.

-"wh—Kirklands marry for love!" she choked.

-London couldn't decide what to do first, cry or punch him. She was sad and to her, this meant she was weak. For the longest time, the only way she could cope with feelings of weakness was to lash out and attack or fall into despair. But the longer she looked at Arthur, the more she realized she could never hurt him—and the more she wanted to. Her mind was scrambled, tangled in shock.

-"you are going to be married to Yao Wang," he declared, a form of courage manifested in his voice.

-Her heart stopped. The air she breathed refused to reach her throat. She chocked as the air finally rush through. How dare he command his own little sister to allow him to break his promises to her?

-"No!"

-She grabbed the table. It was childish, but it made clear sense to her to curl up in a small ball on the chair. She wanted to scream—she had never felt so furious. A tantrum waited at the door of her throat.

-"London," Arthur called.

-She turned away.

-"London," he called again.

-"How could you sell me away like that?" a sharp pain grabbed at her spirit and pulled deep in her hut.

-"I didn't sell—"

-"Don't you tell me that!" she roared, standing suddenly. The chair slid away from her with a horrible sound as it dragged its weight along the floor; the table shuddered from the collision with her body and the chair.

-"What do you mea-"

-"Do I mean do little to you, brother?"

-"London, you mean the word!"

-"No, I just mean a way of obtaining what you desire!"

-"What?"

-"Am I just chattel to you? How could you? You gave me away!"
-"London!"

-She held her head tightly between her palms. Was he too drunk to realize what he had done when he arranged it? Too embarrassed to go back on his words. She didn't know Wang! She was so broken by the betrayal that her mind could hardly piece together an excuse for him to protect him from the rage burning inside her. Hot hears burned at the skin around her eyes as she realized that she could make him no excuse.

-"you…wicked—you are a horrible brother! You never think about what I want!"

-A stream of hurtful phrases flew off her tongue, hurting her and him equally the moment that she said them. No matter how hard she tried to speak gently, a horrible urge kept her saying half-truthful insults.

-"you must hate me! Why couldn't you stop thinking all about your dumb man friends and consider me first! You never considered me first! You threw me to Ludwig in World War, you made me hold the heads of your enemies! You never really loved me at all! You're horrible!"

-Arthur's face blanched and fell. A terrible sadness glowed in his eyes. Her words had done their job; piercing his heard. London felt ready to apologize, but her brother spoke first. "London, there's nothing you can do, you're marring Yao."