The Dragon's Pearl

by The Peach Basket

A masquerade. A night of music, masks and mysteries. But for the Dragon, a notorious thief shrouded in secrets, it is part of a relentless hunt for treasure in a bid to fill a deep, aching longing. But while he has treasure aplenty; he lacks that which all other dragons have: a pearl, worth far more than any treasure. But in the night, a precious pearl is shining...

Art. Jewels. Crystals. Yao smiled nonchalantly as he made his way through the dancing crowd. To steal anything from here would prove so effortless that he wondered if it was worth trying. He could easily pickpocket that man's coat; take that woman's necklace; remove that woman's purse. Doing so, though, might distance him from a more valuable prize—a nice piece of artwork, a treasury, maybe a statuette light enough to carry. Venice was full of loot. Yao couldn't help a tiny smirk. He had made a small fortune in this city alone.

The masquerade ball was in celebration of the sixteenth birthday of Princess Lilli Zwingli of Liechtenstein. As a show of good faith and of mutual support, the two high-ranking Italian Dukes, Feliciano and Lovino Vargas, had arranged a masquerade pageant that was bound to impress and delight even the most exotic of visitors. The guests were all people of good standing, good background, and high education—with the sole exception of one: himself. Everyone else was most likely of impeccable repute. But that was secret; he had entered the masquerade under one of his more well-known alibis, and had been given an invitation without second thought. He did not particularly want to draw attention to himself, for to ruin the reputation of this alias would prove very troublesome indeed.

Lilting notes of the whimsical violins accompanied the maze of dancers, and Yao walked straight through the middle, cutting across the dance floor to the side of the hall, where rich and sweet wines from the Tuscany region were being offered to guests, regardless of their behaviour or if they had had enough. Chandeliers, carved from diamonds and gold, reflected the lights of thousands of candles, making the whole marble floor glow with gold. In one corner, the mahogany staircase led upstairs, to where the most expensive targets inevitably lay. The glass he drank from was expensive; well-made, clean, with a nice shape, and though it would not be missed, he returned it to the tray anyway; and dismissively placed it back onto the server's gilded tray.

Around him, people decked in rubies and sapphires danced in lace and satin, though personally he thought their costumes were nothing in comparison with the silks of his native China. Still, a fair piece of lace would not go unwanted at an auction. His own get-up, a flashy western costume with lots of gold, would not be used again either. When one was in his profession, it was better to remain anonymous. He would not miss the loose white shirt with its many ruffs and stifling cravat, but the black waistcoat, with its crimson embroidery, and the black overcoat, with its gilded golden designs, had grown on him, just a little.

He surveyed the scenes with hawk-like eyes, carefully studying who was alert, and who was off-guard—who would make a good target.

The Princess of Hungary, Elizaveta Hedevary, who was in the unfortunate position of having to decide between the hand of a Prussian Count or an Austrian Duke (who was leading the orchestra even as Yao mused), waltzed past him, dressed in a very flattering array of green lace and emeralds, her long brown hair decorated with green gemstones. Of all the guests, she was the person Yao was least likely to target. He had heard stories of her Herculean strength and her proud temper, and wisely chose to distance himself. The said Austrian Duke, however, might make a better target. Roderich Edelstein was as stuck-up as Elizaveta was fierce, but was notorious for his lack of sense of direction. Yao had every confidence he could easily pilfer a locket or two from him. If he was feeling particularly bored later, he might steal the man's monocle.

He was undecided as to whether the Italian Duke twins would make good targets. One was flirting avidly with a group of young women and though he seemed innocent and unsuspecting enough, Yao did not think he was a complete airhead. Besides, he had a German friend looking after him, probably hired to make sure that the wayward Duke did not end up too drunk or in anyone's bad books. The other twin was fighting off the persistent invitations of a smitten Spanish noble and he had an infamous bad temper. Taking too much of a chance with this one could land him with a lot of unwarranted attention.

He was surprised to see one of the Princes of China there; robed in scarlet and gold. He was with his Prince Consort, the daughter of a noble family from whom Yao had once stolen a small fortune in clothes and gold. She was wearing crimson and orange, and together they made a pretty picture. He was loath to disturb them: they were still so young and still falling in love.

Princess Lilli, dressed in a deep ruby red and outfitted in garnets, star of the show and admired by many, was too big a target. That aside, she was protected by her well-known and well-credited older brother, whose skills with a musket were both unparalleled and feared. He'd rather this magnificent coat be without a bullet hole. Other nobles walked the gardens; and though Yao did not know everyone in attendance, the gardens themselves would make for a better crime scene than the overly bright palace hall. But any theft would have to wait; there was no sense in simply taking the first target he saw. He would have to wait, and time his robbery and his escape perfectly.

It was in this act of surveillance that he came to notice someone he had overlooked; someone right before his eyes. That was never a good sign. Either he was not on top form tonight—and there was no room for being on anything less, in his eyes—or the other was simply better than him, and that was not the case. He knew another thief when he saw one, and this other boy, dressed in white and gold, with a satin mask, was not. He was too quiet, too ordinary, too removed from everything, and too uninterested in the crowd. But Yao had noticed him before (though he wondered if he was just trying to make himself feel better by thinking this), at the beginning of the masquerade ball. And the thought that had struck him then struck him again now: what a beautiful person. Dark hair, a narrow face, small shoulders decked in a white over-shirt that had hints of a scarlet inlay. The mask of gold satin covered his eyes, framed by the dark edges of his hair. Yao grinned: tonight he would pursue an utterly different target, though he had no idea just how different Kiku Honda would prove.

---

It was as if the crowd was parting for him as Yao purposefully made his way over to the intriguing man. The other looked up and repeatedly glanced in his direction, as though to check that Yao was, indeed, heading his way. Yao noted this with interest, not having expected the other to be so observant. He was only a few steps away from the other when the mysterious man's shoulders stiffened, and he lowered his gaze, choosing to invest his attention on the marble flooring instead. It nearly made Yao stop short. Such a defensive attitude had no place here, definitely not at a venue as crowded as this. Nevertheless, he persisted on the task he had set his mind to. He would certainly not be leaving this ball tonight without a prize or two, and he had definitely placed this intriguing stranger on the list.

"Good evening," Yao greeted politely as he stepped beside the man, effectively cutting away the man's only passage of escape. Behind the...target, as he'd taken to calling the mysterious eye-catching stranger, was only a pillar, and Yao had positioned himself in the way of his only open path to disappearing into the crowd. Perfect.

The target froze, looking at first to his left and then down at the floor as he swallowed nervously. But he was unable to escape and unable to retreat, and so he had to reply. "Good... Good evening." To Yao's disappointment, he offered nothing more, anxiously casting round for a way to escape.

Yao frowned inwardly. This had not been in his calculations. Usually, he had to go to great lengths to stop nobles talking; not to make them starttalking. Since the man was present here, surely he must be of some stature and reputation? Yao's eyes quickly ran over the man, gleaning as much detail as he could about the other in a glance. In spite of the masks that adorned most of the guests, he could still somewhat pinpoint their identities. For example, he had easily identified the stiffly dressed man determinedly storming pass them, away from the taller blonde that was chasing after him, as the British diplomat, by the thick eyebrows that he had not quite successfully managed to hide beneath the black mask.

But this man... He turned back to look at his beautiful white-clad mystery. This man was a puzzle indeed. This, however, only served to pique his interest more. Surely unravelling a mystery such as this would be the most rewarding and entertaining of his pursuits yet.

He moved a little to make sure he had captured the other's attention once more and then leaned in a little. "If you would be so kind, my flower of the night, to grant your name to this butterfly whose eyes you have caught in an everlasting hold?"

There was another nervous little tremble and then a quietly tense voice spoke up: "If you are asking my name, as I presume you are, then, pray tell, what would be the point of a mask? Is it not custom, here, to remain anonymous until midnight?"

Yao cursed inwardly, a little displeased that his plan to unveil the other's identity had failed. Nevertheless, it was only the first step. He nodded and swept closer to the man. "Indeed, that is so. But I must make known my disappointment in not knowing the name of such a precious flower...and I request a dance in return."

He bowed a little and extended a gloved hand to the man, a light smile on his lips. The other looked down at it coolly, then took a step back. "Your offer is both appreciated and received, but I must decline."

Well this was clearly unexpected. Undeterred, Yao merely remained there, his hand still extended in invitation. "Is my company so repulsive that you would rather the shadows of a corner to a waltz on the dance floor? I must say, I am hurt... besides, it is not customary too, to have a dance in events such as these?"

"Forgive me, for that is not what I intended to imply," his target said, bowing a little in apology. "It is just that I am uneducated and inexperienced in dances such as this, and I should think that a... butterfly, as you so put it, like yourself, should wish the attentions of a swallow, rather than someone as poor-footed as myself."

"Ah, but it is as I have said. This is a butterfly that is smitten by the rare flower of the night, and surely no one else can do." Yao inclined his head in the direction of the dance floor, where the notes of a slow waltz were beginning and smiled. "Please."

The mysterious man hesitated, indicating that he perhaps was considering the proposal, or perhaps how to decline again. "Unless you have not noticed, flowers do not have wings. They cannot dance. I... would rather not embarrass us both, especially not in a crowd as large as this."

"I beg to differ. There is no more enchanting scene than a flower dancing with the wind in the night." He took the man's hand and smiled reassuringly at him. "Please, do not worry. Trust me."

Despite the mask covering his face, Yao could clearly see how the other's eyebrows raised, doubt lining his features. "Flowers do not bloom in the night; unless - perhaps you are a poet? Regardless I must protest, for I am sure that there are twenty one thousand scenes more enchanting than this flower dancing in the night."

"Then let me prove otherwise," Yao whispered into the stranger's ear as he pulled him closely to his side and then guided him to the edge of the dance floor. Small protests followed him as his target - now captured - was directed closer to the crowd.

"Very well," the other said, a small but heavy sigh accentuating his words. "If I should share this dance with you, would you then leave me be for the rest of the night?"

"I may promise that, or I may not. But since you are here, just enjoy the dance," Yao replied, gently placing his hand on the other's waist. His partner shifted in protest, but relented, placing his left hand on Yao's right shoulder. Then, registering the rhythm of the music, he pulled the other into the crowd, easily leading him through the steps, despite his supposed 'inexperience' in the matter.

"I should like to meet someone you consider 'experienced' in dance," Yao said, whispering in his ear, "for you most certainly dance with more ability than most."

And that was certainly no over the top compliment, like the ones he was so used to dishing out. In fact, all the comments thus far, had been honest opinions, Yao noted in surprise. He let his attention return back to his intriguing partner, allowing himself falling into the rhythm of the music and the pull of guiding his partner in the slow, romantic dance. He could feel the slightest ripples of tiny movement beneath the smooth satin coat that his flower was wearing, and relished the way his chest rose and fell with the timing of his breath and the slightest shimmers of the golden adornments on his coat in the light. "I am but a novice," his partner replied, trying very earnestly to not meet Yao's eyes and to stare straight past his head, into the crowd beyond. "My teachers would not be pleased, I am sure."

"I fear your teachers must have an impossible standard then, for your dancing is as lovely as angels," he said with a smile as his right hand released his partner's slim waist, allowing him to turn under his arm. As they came together again, he could see a sceptical look in the other's dark eyes and pursed lips that suggested both thoughtfulness and disbelief.

"Do you believe in angels, then?" He asked curiously as Yao walked him across the floor, rising and falling to the time of the music, allowing Yao's leg to hug his own.

"Only since I saw you."

His flower frowned again, dismissing his charms with a straight-forward, unaffected air. His gloved hand, resting perfectly within Yao's own, remained elegantly still. "I am as mortal as yourself."

"Are you sure?"

"Perfectly."

Yao's lips curled up a little into a slight smile. He leant closer to the man, who was growing more and more intriguing by the minute, like the dark blooming petals of the flower of temptation, practically whispering into his ear. "And what if I told you I were the devil?"

"I would surmise that you were a very poor devil indeed, for what self-respecting devil would fall prey to his own temptations?" He replied matter-of-factly after a small pause, turning smartly as the waltz crescendoed. Yao said nothing in reply, for he was both vexed and intrigued. How many times had this enigma simply refused to fall for his charms, and why did it make him so much more desirable?

The waltz came to a finale and culminated in a grandiose end, the last notes of the delicate glissando still hanging in the air like a surreal mist of music. Partners bowed and both men and women shuffled about the dance floor, in search of their next partner for the romantic minuet that was being struck up by the musicians. Yao quickly made a decision and expertly slipped out of the dancing crowd, bringing his little enigma along with him. They returned to the corner of the grand hall that the other had originally been in, and then Yao turned to look at the other.

"You are a puzzle indeed." He glanced to the musicians, then offered his hand to the man. "There is no conversation to be done here, I fear, for the music, as enchanting as it is, would steal our words away. Pray, join me to retire one of the balconies? It is my earnest desire to know more about my little masked flower."

The man pursed his lips, evidently not too keen on the idea. He hesitated, his dark eyes on Yao's hand, and then shook his head. "I am afraid it would only serve to bore you. There is not much to know, and it would make for such dull conversation. I am sure you would rather stay here, where there is dancing and music, than waste your time by talking to me."

"On the contrary, I beg to differ. It would hardly be a waste of time," Yao said slowly, eyes looking intently at the man. "After all, one could hardly call spending time with a flower as exotic and as rare as yourself a waste."

"You keep using such inspired expressions," the other replied, lips still pursed in what was an unfortunately very endearing expression of indignation. "What, may I ask, prompts you to act in such a way towards someone you have only just met?"

"Because a flower as lovely as you deserves far more attention than that of the cold shadows. Because you seem to be an intriguing puzzle that traps me further and further within a deep maze, leaving me unsatisfied till I reach the centre.

"Besides," Yao gave a light chuckle. "Do you not like my, as you call it, inspired expressions? Please do know that it is only the truth."

He took a step back and raised an elaborate sleeve of embroidered golden thread and black lace, to his heart, eyes still staring intently upon the figure of his mysterious white flower. "I must confess...I am a very lucky man to meet such a rare flower, one that seems to belittle the enchantments he weaves so easily about my poor heart.

"Mysteries upon mysteries, he builds ever so easily," Yao said softly, dramatically. "Like a beautiful trap, drawing this butterfly to a treasure, or a fiery doom?"

His mysterious puzzle simply shook his head and stepped out into the night, ignoring Yao's hand. "As I thought, you are a poet, after all," he remarked, voice clipped and guarded, showing no evidence of having been affected by his words. Yao could have sworn he saw him roll his eyes. "You have a way with words that I am sure even the most seasoned of authors would envy, but they can hardly be sincere, especially towards someone about whom you know nothing."

"Are honeyed words truly that bad?" Yao grinned triumphantly as he followed the other out onto the balcony. The simply-paved yet striking feature was cool and calm, a welcome respite from the bustling hall and its rush of dancers. Flowers, especially roses, were abundant, swathing the area in their many scents. It was empty save for themselves, and his partner moved slowly and elegantly to look out over the railing, the ends of his hair tugged by the slight wind. Yao followed, to stand beside him. Beyond the balcony, one could see the gardens, with their many statues and pools, and the gravel paths that led to the grand wrought iron gates nearly three-hundred metres away. Below the railings, an ornate fountain spouted a cool spray up into the air, echoed by similar structures in the pools further away. Hedgerows surrounded the landscape, and beyond them, mighty towering trees stood, casting the edges of the garden in an inky dark. The night sky was ablaze with stars, and the soft golden lighting from the masquerade gave the whole setting a very romantic atmosphere. Here was a secluded and charming retreat, and they were the only two people in the world. Certainly they could hear the quiet remnants of activity in the ballroom, but it was distant, far away and unimportant. And the company, well, that was spectacular, even though his mystery still insisted on eluding him.

The other returned his gaze simply, not breaking eye contact. "Are they truly that good?" he asked in reply, his dark eyes watching Yao's every move and response.

"They do not necessarily have to be mere lies, as you are hinting that they are."

"You misunderstand. Whether or not they are lies, you may yet find that I am not a flower, but a weed; and not to your liking, and then both your honour and mine would be compromised. Furthermore, when such words are constant, they become rhetoric, and for someone such as myself, who is both inexperienced with and unaccustomed to such words, it is quite... difficult to know how to respond."

"I am...surprised then. Surprised that you are unaccustomed to such words, for surely they must be lavished on someone as lovely as you."

Yao hesitated for a moment, ignoring the amused voice that was echoing in his head. Really, the great Wang Yao...hesitating? He resolutely ignored the voice and then looked back at his flower with a smile. "Please do not be at a loss as to how to respond. For beauty must be acknowledged in all cases. Besides, in my..."

He took a small breath and then continued. "Profession, as you may call it, one is required to have an excellent judge of character and I am absolutely certain in my abilities, for in my line, I am certainly one of the, if not the, best."

"I speak the truth," his target said, with a small shake of the head. This is the first time someone has spoken so freely and at such length about... my looks, and with such... colourful descriptions. But - you mentioned your profession? What is it that you do?"

Yao frowned, for this question was the most awkward of all, and telling his flower that he was a thief, even in jest, would most likely not be very well-received. "I deal in antiques and precious items," he said, resorting to one of the many lies that he had conceived a long time ago.

"Oh, is that so?" his companion said, nodding in what was seemingly interest. Then: "Forgive me," he continued, watching him curiously. "I am not well-versed in commerces or businesses such as that, but does that require such heightened judgement of character? I certainly have no real knowledge of the matter, but is it so necessary?"

"Of course," Yao replied patiently. "It is not only necessary to have a critical eye for the product, but also the seller. Fakes abound, for antiques and rare gems, and it is necessary to evaluate the seller quickly so as to not waste my time inspecting a useless bauble, and let another enterprising merchant spirit away a true antique."

"Ah, of course, yes, I see," the other said, looking painfully discomfited. He shifted in embarrassment. "I must apologise, really, I am so... unaware of these things, and it must be so dreadfully dull to have to explain it all."

"Please do not worry, I get asked that question a lot. It seems that people do not think that merchants must be an excellent judge of character, probably due to our...less than savoury reputation at times. It is a pity."

A poppy blush spread over the other's cheeks, just visible from beneath the golden satin mask. "Oh, no, I did not mean to imply that, honestly. Merchants, regardless of reputation, must possess a whole multitude of skills, I am sure, but that is not the first one to spring to mind, nor am I very knowledgeable about these things... I am truly sorry if I have offended you."

Yao blinked, both surprised at the other's reaction and his own reaction to instinctively reassure the other than he had not been offended at all. A part of him began to worry, but those worries were quickly lost. Later, he would reflect, and blame the roses, or the gentle music coming from inside the ballroom, as the reason for the tiny slip in his control. Later, he would discover it was more, but that was yet to come.

"No, no," Yao said hastily, shaking his head to emphasise his point. "I am hardly offended and did not mean to make you worry. I simply ….well..."

"If I have not offended you, then... Regardless, it is good to meet someone who also has a profession. It seems that most people who are born to the upper classes tend to think poorly of you if you have to work to join them, and, well..." His flower, or angel, Yao mused, had a beautiful smile. The other noticed his gaze and then flushed a little and looked away into the night sky. He quickly stepped up beside the other beside the railings, letting his gaze too, drift away to the stars.

"I am glad that my flower feels that way," he admitted.

The other's gaze returned to him shortly after, curious and seeking. "If I may ask, where are you from?"

"I have no home," He said with a careless, honest shrug. "I go where my work takes me."

Again, he was met with a faltering, anxious gaze. "I am so sorry. I keep offending you, and it is so shameful of me to do so. I must apologise once again, for I hope I did not stir up any unpleasant or painful memories." After a moment of silence, he spoke up again. "I think... it would be best if I left. Such unkind comments, naïve and ignorant though they were, have no place here and I do not wish to upset you further."

Yao stared at his flower in utter surprise. Unkind...? But those comments had hardly been offending in any way, exactly why would he think this way? Quickly, he corrected himself. "Please do not worry about this, I meant that I have no need of a home. You could say that the world itself is my home."

Still, his companion looked uncomfortable, and shook his head. "I am sorry. I must make for such poor company."

"That is not so!" Yao immediately said, more forcefully than he liked. He coughed and looked away. "I mean...I do enjoy your company very much. It's very...different."

The other's face fell in slightly suppressed horror at the word 'different' and he apologised again. While it did not make conversation easy, Yao recognised it as being the characteristic worry of those who had been brought up under strict parents and in the upper classes.

"No, no, I did not mean to say that you're different, as in, I meant that...I'm not making much sense am I now," Yao sighed. "So much for seasoned poet...Where are words when I need them the most?"

He took a small breath. "I meant that you're refreshing. Usually all the nobles that I have talked to with are all the same, uncharacteristically shallow, haughty and self-obsessed."

His flower allowed a small smile, eyebrows raised in sad gratitude. "It is because of the way they are raised," he said, looking out at the stars again. "Raised to think you are better than everyone else, above everyone else... It is expected of them, too, to an extent."

"But you are different. I cannot help but wonder why...?"

He shook his head in an expression of uncertainty. "I cannot say I know why, but I do not think that way. At the least I try not to. It may be that my family is not of the upper class by name and birthright, but... I could not say."

"Not of the upper class by name and birthright?"

"Yes; before my father took over the family business, it became very successful, and... And so it is not by name or standing that we are of the other class, but out of labour, and you must be aware of mentioned the nobles' standing on that, given your profession," he said, choosing his words and tone carefully.

"Oh. Yes, yes, I understand the troubles you must face," Yao looked curiously at his flower. "Pray, may I ask as to the nature of your family business?"

Dark eyes studied him unreadably, then moved away to look at the roses in the moonlight. All the while, the ivory beams gave the white satin an oddish look, as though it were ethereal. Maybe he was an angel. "We... they, I suppose, manufacture airships," he said quietly, as though embarrassed.

Airships! Yao was impressed. This definitely meant that his little flower's family must be of substantial wealth indeed. He drew slightly closer to the other, their hands on the railings placed side by side. "That is certainly nothing to be embarrassed about. Airships! It is one of the most important industries, is it not? For surely without airships, trade itself would fall apart."

And so would my profession, without an airship for a quick escape across borders...

"Have you ever been in an airship?" the other asked suddenly, then noticed the proximity of their hands and very discreetly moved his own away, closer to his other arm. He did not linger on Yao's questions, apparently still uncomfortable, despite his words of reassurance.

Yao frowned a little upon noticing that, but let it go. He pondered over how much he should reveal to his flower for a moment, then decided to take a little risk. "Yes, I have. Many times, in fact."

His companion looked at him with eyes of amazement or adoration (Yao hoped the latter). "Is it fun?" he asked, a flicker of hopeful interest shadowing across his face. "Is it true, what they say, that you can get skysickness if you are unaccustomed to flying?"

"Yes, it is true,' Yao affirmed. "I have seen many a passenger sicken from that terrible skysickness, but it usually passes in a day or two. Thankfully, I have been lucky and have never once fallen to that illness."

The other watched him earnestly, almost silently begging him to go on. He looked full of a thousand and one questions, but instead, he settled for a quiet curiosity, leaving them all unspoken. Yao scrutinised him for a moment.

"Have you never been in an airship? I mean, since your family is involved in the manufacture of them, surely..."

He let his voice trail away, worried that he may have presumed too much. His flower shook his head, lowering his eyes. "Not a finished one," he said, looking away wistfully into the night. "We came here by ship. I wonder what it is like," he continued, sighing at the thought. "To fly. It must be like standing in a sea of stars." He shut his eyes and sighed again, as though imagining what it would be like to fly on the very constructions his family made.

"It is," Yao said after a long silence, he himself thinking back to the numerous flights that he had taken. The joy and wonder he had felt on his very first flight, and the beauty of the ship sailing through the night sky...He had taken an airship so many times that he had nearly forgotten that wonder.

"I should dearly love to fly in one," his companion said, the aching and the longing evident in his voice. "If only there were a way." His face was upturned to the breeze, and though his mask stopped him from feeling it freely, he shivered once, caught up in the flight of fancy. "Forgive me. 'Twas but the foolish thoughts of this foolish dreamer."

"There always is a way," Yao murmured softly, stepping closer to his mysterious flower, dark eyes looking intensely into the other's enigmatic ones. "No dream is a foolish one."

He then turned his gaze to the gardens and beyond, to the streets and canals and waterways of Venice. A small smile danced over his lips as he turned back to his flower. "A change of setting would be refreshing, do you not agree? Shall we?"

"Surely you cannot mean outside the gates?" the other asked, full of wonder and fearful longing. He seemed to notice the enthusiasm in his own voice, for then he hesitated more and cleared his throat. "Even if I were to agree - and I really should not; it would be most improper - however would we get beyond the gates?"

Yao couldn't help but let his smile widen. However would they get beyond the gates indeed! That was nothing for someone like him. Why, he had navigated towers and palaces and dungeons a thousand times more complicated than this!

"Please do not worry, my little flower. I have my ways."

The other looked frightened, as though he did not know what to do. "Will it... be safe?" he asked at a whisper, nervously desperate to say yes but evidently worrying, most likely over the smallest of things. "I... What is it like, the city?"

Yao looked at his flower, surprised now. "Have you...never been to the city?"

Again, those dark eyes filled with hesitation, and the other shook his head sadly. "I have heard stories; stories of canals and winding waterways and grand architecture, but that is all. It is said that at night, the stars can be seen on the canals, and that the canals are so endless, they could stretch to the skies. It must be very beautiful?"

"It is. It is just like you say. In the day, the city is lively and teeming of people and energy, but in the night, in the tranquil silence, that is where its beauty shines, in this butterfly's humble opinion."

"It sounds so wonderful," his flower said almost plaintively, the longing now undisguised in his voice. "But, you see, I think I am not allowed to leave here, and so..." He paused and wet his lips, clasping his hands over his stomach. "So I suppose I must also decline this offer, too."

"Not allowed?" Yao said questioningly, then frowned. "It would be fine. I assure you, we will be back before the ball ends and no one will know any better."

"But if my father finds out..."

"He won't. No one will."

Then there was more nervousness, before his flower looked up at him and nodded. "Do you promise? That I will be back before sunrise, and that nobody shall find out? I should dearly love to see the city, but..."

"Nobody will find out," Yao said solemnly, dark eyes meeting his intriguing flower's. He made a move to lay his hand over his heart. "I can swear it, if it would put your heart at ease."

The other shook his head, still looking quite frightened at the thought of escape and adventure. "That will not be necessary. I have your word, and that is enough. I place myself in your care." With that his flower stepped closer to him, seemingly ready to follow him to the city and see its sights. Yao smiled at him reassuringly, but he did not return it, instead gazing down at the balcony's paved floor.

"Let's go then!" Yao said brightly, before promptly leaping over the railings of the balcony and easily landing onto the soft ground, rolling to break his fall, before standing up and straightening out his clothes. His flower flew to the side of the balcony, wide-eyed in surprise and terror, his mouth open in a small 'o' and a quiet gasp tearing from his lips.

"A-Are you alright?" he finally managed, completely stunned, looking down at him in worry. His gloved hands gripped the balcony's railings and he remained on the inside, as though refusing to descend in a similar manner. All this after I've just promised his safety, Yao thought, motioning for him to follow.

He called out to the other, inwardly sighing a little. "It's perfectly fine, my little flower. I will catch you."

The other shook his head fearfully. "Why, but... I have never... and it is so high up..." He looked back over his shoulder at the hall, where the many guests were still dancing and the orchestra could still be heard. "Can I not just... leave via the masquerade?"

"You wish to leave without anyone noticing you, right? How would you accomplish that by walking out in front of the entire ballroom?" Yao said calmly in return, gesturing to the other to hasten. "Rest assured, I will definitely make sure that you land safely."

Afraid, his flower hesitated a moment longer, full of dread and worry. He took a deep breath and swung one leg over the railings, then, holding onto them still, lifted the other leg over as well. But there he remained, loath to let go, especially now that he could not see the ground. "I-I am terribly afraid," he said, clinging on for dear life. "Are you certain you can catch me?" he asked, unaware of Yao's long-developed and almost flawless skills.

"I am absolutely certain," Yao promised, holding out his arms, waiting to catch the other. "Trust me."

He imagined the other taking a deep breath, screwing his eyes shut, and then making that ultimate, weighty decision. His flower let go, curling up instinctively to protect himself. Much to Yao's relief (and amazement), he did not scream or cry out, though he thought he heard a desperate gasp as he fell.

Yao took a step back and quickly calculated his flower's fall in a split second, before instantly positioning himself in the prime position to catch him, which he did, holding the other safely close to himself. Those mystifying eyes were closed tightly, waiting for an impact that would never come. After a few moments, one opened, peeking up at him in fear. The other heaved a sigh of relief, before letting out a quiet, nervous laugh that was remnant of suppressed hysteria. He set the other down, but had to support him momentarily, as in his fear, all the strength had gone from his legs.

"There, that was not so bad, was it?" Yao smiled, letting the other cling onto his arm for a while, before his flower managed to take a deep breath and then steady himself somewhat.

"I must be mad," the other breathed, trying to calm himself further by taking more deep breaths. "Mad or stupid. Do merchants have to be able to do that,too?"

"Why of course! We have to be capable in many skills." Yao was unable to hide his grin. "There, are you ready to see the city?"

His flower nodded, righting himself with one final controlled breath. "Is the whole journey as perilous as that first step?" he asked, waiting to follow him. "I think I should not like that, if it were."

Yao just smiled in reply. "You will see."

"It must be amazing," he said, a wide smile making its way onto his fair face. Yao felt himself smile back reflexively, for such a wide, overjoyed expression could not be fake. "I must thank you," his companion said, gratitude evident in his voice. "No one has ever done such a thing for me before."

"Making you leap off balconies? Or catching you?" Yao teased, letting an honest happiness slip into his voice.

The other laughed, musically, ducking his head as he did so. "Well, there is that," he said, hiding a chuckle. "But no, in all seriousness, how can I ever repay you for this?"

"We haven't even been to the city yet! It's just past the gates..." Yao said, starting down the gardens and to the one of long gravel paths. These paths ran the length of the gardens, with one on either side. Closer to the building's façade, they converged, fronting the spectacular fountain that had covered any noise created during their escape. They had jumped from a balcony closer to the edge of the building, and had therefore landed on the soft, well-maintained grass. A small line of shrubs had concealed their daring escape from the first-floor, and now they made their way down the right-hand path, taking care to keep in the shadows.

"It matters not that I have yet to see the city," his flower said, almost dreamily. "The fact remains that you took enough care to give me the chance to do so, and for that... I am forever in your debt." They walked past the pools with their coloured fountains, past beds of sweet-smelling flowers, and finally approached one of the small side gates of the garden, probably meant for servants. Thankfully, there was no one else around. His flower took a long look at the building behind them and its warm, comforting lights, then turned back to him, as though he had been treasuring the sight of it for the last time.

But still, despite the noticeable lack of guards (who were probably all off indulging in a party of their own, he mused), he was loath to go straight through the main entrance. Instead he reached the side gate, which was also unmanned, and much more preferable, given that it was half-concealed by hedges and in a dark corner. Yao opened the gate easily, hastily hiding the fact that the gate had once been locked. He wasn't sure how exactly his flower would take to his lock-picking skills, and that was much more difficult to explain. Nevertheless, he held the gate open and then smiled at the other. "The city awaits, my little flower."