Somewhere in Xing, sometime after the end.

Ran Fan slept lightly. Dozing in the morning sunlight, she knew that the door and the window were opened to allow a cross breeze; she felt the breeze from the window as it stirred the curtain, making shadows dance across the bed. In the afternoon, the sun beat down mercilessly on the citizens of Xing and it did not spare the young emperor and his bride.

Now, the sun was just beginning to crest the wall that swept around the northeastern side of the capital, rays golden and peeking through the trees and full of promise of the day to come.

Ran Fan also knew that the man in her bed was not Ling Yao. He took up took up too much of the bed, wrapped himself in too much of the sheet; Ling didn't sleep on his side, he always slept on his stomach. Without moving, Ran Fan took stock of the situation.

"Good morning, gorgeous," said the man in the emperor's bed. His voice was too thick to be Ling's, and he was too observant.

Ran Fan kicked him, hard, in the stomach. He was faster than Ling, but not as fast as her. He doubled over. Calmly, she pulled the sheet from him and over herself; it was too warm to sleep clothed, even at night.

"What was that for?" he whined, voice high like a petulant child. She ignored the way he pulled down the corners of his mouth and looked balefully up at her.

"For being in my bed," she told him. "Next time, I'll punch you."

She flexed her automail arm for emphasis.

"You'll hurt me!" His voice was a decent imitation of Ling's voice, but Ran Fan was too keen to fall for it; far too keen, and far too much in love.

"Not permanently," she replied. "Emperor Yao won't even know it happened by the time your turn is over. Even if I did, you were the one who agreed to protect the emperor's body."

The three of them had come to an agreement regarding the present situation. Ran Fan made it known that her relationship was with Ling Yao, not Greed. She had left it to them to decide how they would split their time, though she had given Greed a piece of her mind when he complained that her wedding to Ling was during what was normally his turn.

Rule #1 was that Ran Fan was not married to the homunculus Greed; she was married to Ling Yao, the Emperor of Xing. She shared her bed only with her husband, not with whoever happened to be controlling her husband's body at the time.

"Get out of my bed," she ordered, pointing out the open door.

"But -"

"Out!" She drummed her metallic fingers casually on the headboard. Greed took the hint and beat a hasty exit, though not without some muttering. He didn't want to get out of bed; his body - their body - was tired, and Greed had an inkling of an idea why.

"I'll go find another pretty girl, if that's how you're going to be about it."

It was an empty threat.

Rule #2 was that, as Ling Yao's body was not widely known to be home to two people, it was to behave in a manner appropriate to the emperor of their ancient and noble nation at all times, regardless of which one of them was actually in charge.

Greed didn't like it, but he did like being alive. He had no desire to follow his Father and siblings, it would've defeated the purpose of the whole immortality thing. Given the choice between breathing and having to behave himself, or misbehaving and not breathing, he chose breath over misbehavior.

"I'll see you later." Greed winked as he stepped into Ling's pants.

"I'll see Emperor Ling Yao later," said Ran Fan. "Put a shirt on, or his skin will burn."

Greed did as he was told; after all, an injury to Ling's body was an injury to his, and he hated pain.

She's a good girl, Greed told Ling.

She's my wife, Ling told Greed.

Oh, we'll see about that, said Greed and - casting one last glance at Ran Fan as she slid into her summer dress - he was glad she could not hear them. The sunlight, stronger now, gleamed on her automail.