Sleep evaded Lan Fan late into the night. She had every intention of getting a proper night's rest for the arduous day ahead, yet even meditation failed to quiet the tempest of thoughts. Lan Fan couldn't get her earlier conversation with Ling out of her mind. Furthermore, she couldn't stop thinking about her father. Princess Mei had the worst timing, though Lan Fan supposed she should be grateful. She managed to mend Lan Fan's nose with only a handful of smug comments.

Sighing in defeat she threw back the tangled bedclothes and got up. If Lan Fan was going to get any sleep this night she had to finish their talk. Before she could change her mind she was dressed and navigating the corridors to the imperial wing. Lan Fan made her way to Ling's chambers without being seen.

To Lan Fan's alarm she did not find her second-in-command standing watch outside the large doors. Fearing the worst Lan Fan threw the doors open and rushed inside. Aside from the absence of her liege nothing was amiss. The panic she felt was all too familiar. Although, if Ling had revived his vanishing act Qiyin would've sent for her.

Therefore, the emperor was merely elsewhere.

The sudden rush of adrenaline left her feeling ill. Lan Fan covered her eyes with a trembling hand. She was exhausted. There were tears burning in her eyes and her throat constricted. Lan Fan thought she'd put this disgraceful behavior behind her. Somehow she'd let the events of the last several weeks shipwreck her. Lan Fan laughed in a broken manner and wept.

How can I miss someone this much when I barely remember them?

Perhaps the broken heart she needed to protect didn't belong to her mother after all. Lan Fan was the one who couldn't suffer another loss. The death of her grandfather was supposed to have tempered her heart. If she drowned in a wellspring of sorrow she couldn't protect those she loved most.

Lan Fan scrubbed her eyes with her sleeve. If Ling saw her face he would know right away she'd been crying. The decision to return to her room came too late. She heard the sound of a sword being drawn in the hall. Lan Fan turned to see her cautious second-in-command in the doorway. Qiyin started at the sight of her tear streaked face.

"Commander Liu?"

A shadow on the floor was her only warning before the emperor stepped into the room. As his eyes swept over her Lan Fan thought she might die of shame. The guard put away his sword and returned to the hall. Lan Fan caught one last look of concern from her subordinate as he closed the heavy doors behind him.

Ling was astonished to discover a distraught Lan Fan in his room. He hadn't seen her this upset since Fu's death. Hoping she wouldn't withdraw he approached slowly.

"What's wrong?" Ling asked.

"I…" Lan Fan's voice was thin. "I thought-" She took a teeny, gasping breath as she struggled to compose herself. Instead she was overcome by more tears. He was quite unprepared for them. Lan Fan looked as if she might collapse in on herself like a star. In place of gravity she was dragged down by some unknown sorrow.

Ling put an arm around her shoulders and hooked the other beneath her knees. He scooped her up in his arms without trouble; Steel appendage aside she was remarkably light. Across the room he carried her to his bed. Ling sat upon it with Lan Fan cradled in his lap. She laid her head on his shoulder. Several minutes passed before the tears subsided.

"Forgive me," she begged.

"There's nothing to forgive."

"I shouldn't be here at such an indecent hour," Lan Fan whispered.

"There is no hour in the day when I do not wish to see you."

A selfish side of him reveled in the fact Lan Fan was here and not with a certain blacksmith. Shu seemed to have backed off his pursuit if only for now; Ling wasn't foolish enough to think his friend had given up. 'Yeah, well fuck that guy,' the homunculus Greed might've said. 'Who does he think he is moving in on our woman, huh?!' It was entirely for the best there was no one else in his head to encourage such pettiness.

"Will you tell me what's wrong?" Ling intoned.

He ran his fingers through her hair to comfort her, noticing how long the strands had become. Either Lan Fan had decided the western style wasn't for her, or simply hadn't had the time to have it trimmed. Ling hoped his initial reaction hadn't discouraged her embrace of modernity. Speaking of modern women he remembered he hadn't met with Ms. Fontaine. He needed to amend that before the engineer and her lovely companion returned home.

"There was a time after he died I didn't speak," Lan Fan said.

Ling was confused for a moment then recalled the trip through the desert. Of course. This was about Fu. He should have seen this coming. However well-meaning Fu's reasons were for concealing the truth it didn't change the fact that he'd hidden it.

"How could I forget?" He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. "You really scared me with that out there in the sands."

Lan Fan shook her head slightly.

"No," she muttered. "Not then."

Ling frowned in thought but didn't interrupt.

"When I was little we lived in my mother's village far from the Yao Estate. Father was often gone for days and weeks at a time. When he was home he told me bedtime stories. The one I loved the most was the tale of the jade rabbit."

The tale of the jade rabbit was one he knew by heart. Ling found it in a book of folktales when he was fifteen, but the first time he heard it he was only a boy. There were many versions of the tale but they all had one thing in common.

"The jade rabbit is the companion of the moon goddess," Lan Fan continued. "There on the moon with his mortar and pestle he mixes the elixir of life. Long ago a deadly plague swept the lands from the mountains to the sea. The moon goddess sent the rabbit to earth. He visited each family in turn and cured them of their illness. Then the rabbit returned to the goddess' side on the moon."

Lan Fan covered her eyes with her hand.

"He promised to be home in time for the Mid-Autumn Festival. Mother said we'd make mooncakes and stay up late to see the jade rabbit. He died three days before the equinox. While everyone else celebrated the harvest we buried my father."

The legendary substance had many names: the elixir of life; the red tincture; the philosopher's stone. Whatever the name it was the tale of the jade rabbit that sent Ling in search of it. Until now Ling had forgotten the man who first told him the story. The man who watched over him and kept him entertained when his mother was too busy to play. He always had a smile when you needed one and he laughed with his whole body.

"I asked mother if we could pray for the jade rabbit to make father better again. She told me there was no such thing as a rabbit on the moon pounding the elixir of life." Lan Fan laughed but there was no humor in it. "Well... she was right about the rabbit at least."

Lan Fan lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him.

"Father was much better at telling stories than I am."

"He made shadow puppets," Ling remembered.

Surprise spread across her face.

"How did you…?" Lan Fan trailed off.

Ling smiled a little and said, "I liked the one about the magic paintbrush."

"I thought you didn't remember him."

"So did I." Ling rubbed his jaw as he thought. "He did voices for all the animals, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did."

Lan Fan smiled and this time her laugh was genuine. The beauty of it struck him like a hammer to a bell. He wanted to see her smile every day. To make her laugh with her whole body. She looked at him with more fondness than he deserved. If Ling could make her happy maybe someday he'd be worthy of her.

Maybe she would forgive him for his guile.

"I miss him," she sighed.

Smiling wistfully Ling tucked her bangs behind her ear.

"I know…"

Lan Fan pressed her lips together for a moment. He didn't dare move as she lifted her hand to his cheek. She brushed her thumb over his lips for the second time today. Only this time it was followed by a kiss.

"Where did you manage to get strawberries this time of year?" Shu reached for one of the of candied strawberries sprinkled with sesame seeds only to get his hand slapped for the trouble.

"Those haven't set yet," Wei scolded, "and they aren't for you!"

"It's a wonder you haven't bankrupted the kingdom," Shu quipped. Leaning back against the counter he watched his oldest friend work. The chef stood on a wooden crate previously used for shipping produce. Malnourishment in his formative years had taken its toll. Wei picked up another bamboo skewer topped with a plump strawberry, dipping it into a saucepan of molten sugar.

"Why are you here anyway?"

"Isn't the pleasure of your company reason enough?"

"If you're going to hang around at least make yourself useful," Wei ordered.

Shu washed his hands and started cutting the stems off strawberries. Wei acted like he didn't notice when Shu popped one into his mouth. There was no one who tolerated his antics more. Shu suppressed a smile and glanced about the room. The kitchen was busy with preparations for the party that evening. Servants passed in and quickly out again with breakfast for the residents of the palace. There was always greater risk when things were this lively.

He made quick work of the strawberries and set them in a bowl.

"Keep an eye out tonight," he said.

Wei paused in his task for a moment.

"Have you heard something?" Wei asked in a quiet voice.

"Nothing definitive."

"Should I pass along a message?"

"I'll speak to her myself."