"What do you think?"

Qiyin Gao glanced at Emperor Ling Yao upon being addressed. His Imperial Highness added a gold pocket watch to his white tie ensemble. The emperor looked fit to conduct himself in western high society.

"Your Majesty cuts an impressive figure," he replied

"As usual your taste is impeccable," said His Lordship.

The emperor adjusted his bow tie and pulled on a pair of immaculate gloves.

"You haven't said how Commander Liu took the invitation," the emperor remarked.

"Accordingly, sire."

"Oh, come now," Ling caught his eye in the mirror and grinned. "I'm certain you can tell me more than that."

Qiyin didn't report on the guard commander. Not to the emperor nor anyone else. His loyalty to Emperor Yao came in second only to his loyalty to Commander Liu. He chose his response carefully.

"I believe her exact words were 'You will not let him out of your sight unless he is in mine.'"

"Business as usual then," Ling quipped.

Qiyin noticed the amusement in Ling's tone and affection in his features. The bodyguard chuckled and clasped his hands behind his back. The emperor sat on the end of his bed to finish his look with a pair perfectly polished black Oxfords.

"How much am I going to pay for dismissing her this evening?"

The lieutenant weighed the odds.

"A great deal, I imagine, though not enough to inspire remorse," Qiyin responded.

Ling looked up from tying his shoe. His eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Then I take it you've seen the dress?"

As a matter of fact, Her Royal Majesty had consulted the guard's professional opinion. Qiyin advised against constricting or cumbersome attire. He also informed the dowager empress that although Commander Liu displayed her automail while on duty she didn't draw attention to it when out of uniform; A weapon the commander concealed when she didn't seek to intimidate.

The dowager empress gave him a glimpse of the gown before her seamstress boxed it up. Xue Yao was an auteur. Qiyin indicated his approval. Lady Yao tasked the him with sneaking the dress into Lan Fan's room.

He'd set the box upon her unmade bed. Though he'd touched naught else he'd glanced about the room. Her clothes from the night before piled on the floor in front of the wardrobe. An assortment of glass bottles, brushes, and handful of hairpins on the vanity. A collection of glossy magazines towered on the bedside table. A tattered issue tossed in a wastebasket. A pair of gold heels in the corner by the door. One shoe knocked over on its side.

He'd resisted the urge to set it right.

"I'm under strict orders from Her Ladyship not to spoil the surprise," Qiyin said.

"Lady Xue loves a good spectacle," Ling conceded.

"I believe you'll be satisfied."

Greed wouldn't be satisfied.

Ling stopped short of voicing the thought. It came to his mind unbidden. The homunculus weighed heavy on his mind of late. The emperor gave his bodyguard a rueful smile.

"Heavens forbid," Ling replied

Roy Mustang saw music as colors.

It started after he had his sight restored by way of the philosopher's stone. Roy turned on the wireless in his townhouse and saw a symphony of color. It terrified him. He thought he'd gone mad. He phoned Hawkeye immediately. A multitude of neurological and ophthalmological tests later he received a diagnosis.

Chromesthesia.

A neurological phenomenon but not a hallucination. The doctor described it as a bad wiring job. 'People are born with these sort of perceptual phenomena.' Once his sanity was assured Roy did what any scientist worth his salt would do.

The Flame Alchemist went to the library.

He learned there were more types of synesthesia than sound-to-color. Roy discovered he also had spatio-temporal synesthesia. Since early childhood he visualized time as a looped ribbon. Case studies of chromesthesia documented variations of the phenomenon. Some synesthetes perceived the colors in the mind's eye. Roy perceived the colors in the external space.

The research couldn't explain the causation of the experience. Roy couldn't definitively say the philosopher's stone caused his chromesthesia. He didn't have empirical evidence but there had to be a correlation. Based on the available data it remained the most logical conclusion. Roy halted the scientific method at hypothesis. The phenomenon didn't obscure his vision. Synesthesia was far from the worst thing Roy Mustang had learned to live with.

The Hall of Serenity was a painter's palette.

Colors twisted in the air like aether.

"Who is the singer?" Roy asked.

"Madame Madeleine Rousseau. An honored guest of His Imperial Majesty from Creta by way of Amestris," Yue-Yan answered.

The translator trilled the r on Rousseau. Her syntax astonished him. Yue-Yan switched between languages with ease.

"Do you speak Cretan?"

Yue-Yan smoothed a lock of her fine hair with her fingers. She looked at her feet and said, "Je parle un petite peu, Général Mustang." The translator switched from Cretan to Amestrian without taking a breath. "But my pronunciation isn't the best." She peeked up at him and smiled a little.

"I'd say you have an ear for it. Do you have an ear for music as well?"

The young woman blushed, twisted the lock of hair around her index finger.

"I can play guzheng."

Roy tilted his head in thought.

"I don't believe I've ever heard that instrument," he said.

"Um," Yue-Yan looked up and to the left as the gears turned in her head. "It has strings." As the translator searched for the word she made a plucking motion with her fingers.

"Harp?"

"No."

"Guitar?"

Yue-Yan shook her head.

"Maybe there isn't a word for it in Amestrian," Roy offered.

"Maybe," Yue-Yan didn't sound convinced.

"Well, whatever it's called I'm sure you make beautiful music," he said, looking at the stained glass world around him. Roy Mustang hoped he never became accustomed to it.

"May I ask how you came to be such a skilled linguist?"

"I'm a Han. We're border dwellers."

The name rang a bell.

"Han? There was a Mr. Han who helped a refugee named Maria Ross cross the border to Xing. This would've been about six years ago now. Any chance he's a relation of yours? I'm afraid I don't know his first name."

Yue-Yan Han's eyes lighted up.

"My uncle."

"How serendipitous! Why don't we have a dance? You can tell me how a lovely young woman from the border ended up this far from home."

General Mustang smiled and held out his gloved hand.

She took it then said, "Oh! Zither."

The interpreter smiled in satisfaction.

Serendipitous indeed.

Ling Yao had a skip in his step.

Things were going his way. He would have to make his apologies to Lady Suyin should his little tourney have caused trouble for the siblings. Ling was certain Xiang was his path to a foot in the door with Lan Fan's mother. Frankly, the woman intimidated him. The resemblance between mother and daughter was striking.

Such fearful symmetry.

If he looked at Suyin through his lashes she was Lan Fan painted in watercolor. Lady Bodyguard in a beautiful daydream. The incident at the lake haunted him. Accident aside he often had trouble with first impressions in his youth. Ling was a precocious brat. It cast a shadow over the rare encounters he had with the woman. So much of their lives was compartmentalized. Between them they wore many masks. Sometimes he lost track of who he was supposed to be.

Lan Fan was his constant.

When Ling found himself tempest tossed and lost at sea Lan Fan lighted his way to shore. Ling feared nothing with her watching over him. The emperor determined to have everything he desired. Lan Fan Liu Zhang was at the top of the list. If everything went as planned things should fall into place.

Ling headed to the Hall of Serenity with Lieutenant Gao in tow. When they stepped outside two bodyguards joined them. Bolin and Tingzhe. They made a remarkable team. Lan Fan never passed up an opportunity to put them on the same rotation. Commander Liu assigned him a lively detail for the evening. She didn't know those two played cards with him when he wanted to slack off.

He resolved to walk into this hall one day with Lan Fan on his arm. One day the emperor would call her his consort and they would be together at last as equals. All he had to do was play his cards right.

Greed taught him a thing or two about cards.

Ling smirked.

As Emperor Ling Yao proceeded along the pathway the emperor spotted a stray.

Ms. Margot Fontaine dressed in a suit tailored in an androgynous fashion. Margot's makeup bordered on avant garde. She smoked a cigarette.

"Your Majesty."