April 1911

Xing

"You know those letters don't read themselves, Lan Fan."

"No, my lord, they do not," she replied without looking up from her studies. Ling lounged by the open window of the study; next to him sat a bowl filled with hard candy wrapped in brightly colored cellophane. A dozen wrappers already littered the floor around him. Ling's hand hovered over the treats, index finger twirling as he selected his next morsal. At yet another crinkle of wrapper Lan Fan tightened her grip on her pencil. They were meant to be practicing Amestrian. Ling's pronunciation was awful and Lan Fan struggled with conjugation of irregular verbs. What was the point of grammar rules when the language ignored them on a whim?

"So you agree, then, that you should read them." He gestured with one sticky hand at a neatly stacked pile of unopened missives.

"I agree that paper is inanimate."

"Most people are excited to receive mail. I never receive any mail." From his seat across the room Ling let out a long suffering sigh, "What if it's important? Or better yet what if it's gossip? At least let me read them."

The bored prince laid on his back with his right ankle crossed over his raised left knee, and tilted his head to look at her upside down.

"You're supposed to protect me from danger, Lady Bodyguard. I'm in terrible danger of dying of boredom."

"I believe you will live, Prince Ling," she informed him, but couldn't quite suppress her smile. Her mirth did not escape him. With a smile of his own he sat up and joined her at the table.

"Just one? Aren't you even a little curious?"

"Not especially." It was a half truth. The letters were a curiosity, but all from her mother. They were all the same. Ling looked at Lan Fan's work over her shoulder. At his proximity her cheeks colored.

"You've got it all wrong. If you let me read one I'll help you with the lesson," he bribed her in a sing-song voice.

"...Just one."

With a flourish of his wrist the prince grabbed the stack of envelopes and fanned them out on the table like a deck of cards. His excitement was infectious. Despite her better judgement Lan Fan set her pencil aside, propping her chin on her hand to watch him deliberate. He crossed his arm over his chest and cupped his chin with his other hand, mock frowning in consideration. In recent months he'd finally outgrown her in height. Ling tilted his head looking at Lan Fan sidelong.

"Well, what do you think?"

She looked at the plethora of letters and pointed at the third from the right. It was thicker than the others.

"Of course." Ling carefully plucked the letter from the rest. "This is clearly the most interesting of the lot."

He took his time opening the envelope being certain not to rip the contents. Inside he found a few sheets of stationery folded in thirds and a small red envelope emblazoned with the symbol for luck in gold leaf. Ling checked the postmark.

"All this time you've had New Year's money just waiting to be spent! You see what happens when you don't open your mail?" He set aside the red envelope in favor of the letter.

"Let's see… 'Darling daughter, I hope this letter finds you well. We missed you dearly at the New Year festival. Your father'..." Ling glanced at Lan Fan through the shadow of his bangs. A mask of apathy concealed her emotions. "...'Your stepfather and brother are well. Xiang asks when you will visit and hopes you'll attend his birthday. He'll be five this summer. I've enclosed your hongbao. Perhaps next year you will join us for New Year in the capital. Doubtless, you know how it hurts me you won't…"

The prince fell quiet. Hands stilled on the letter; eyes darting across Suyin's perfect penmanship. His jaw tensed as he skimmed the second page. To the third page a photograph of Liwei, Xue, and Xiang from New Years was clipped.

" 'My this year be auspicious… hope you're eating well…my regards to your grandfather… write us once in awhile…' so on and so forth 'your loving mother, Xue.'" Ling returned the letter and photograph to the envelope then stacked it with the rest. Next to him Lan Fan picked up her pencil and tried to focus on the task at hand. "How will you spend your newfound wealth?"

"You are welcome to it, my lord. Master Fu already gave me New Year's money."

"That's no good. If I spend it I'll get all your luck. Shall we spend it together then?" He bumped his shoulder against hers playfully.

"As you wish," she mumbled.

"Wonderful. Now, about that homework…"

June 1911

Xing

Long before a hint of morning lightened the sky Lan Fan rose from bed. As she washed herself she shut her eyes, focusing her attention inward on her qi then expanding her senses to the quiet flickers of energy throughout the estate. Damp hair gathered in a tight bun. She clothed herself in her uniform; no longer an apprentice, a proper member of Prince Ling Yao's retinue. A clandestine soldier against the ever lurking threats to her liege. With steady hands she donned the armor Fu presented her with the night before. It was much lighter than what she'd trained in for years. Heavy armor made her strong, but now her speed and agility would make the difference in a fight.

Lan Fan didn't own a looking glass (a bodyguard has no need for vanity). She set her candle in the window and caught her reflection in a pane of glass. Black hair, pale skin, her father's eyes or so she was told. The enemy must never see your face. A guard is a shadow, seen yet unseen. The last line of defence between the prince and a knife in the dark. For this you were born. Fu's words echoed in her mind. The yin mask she retrieved from the table by her bed handling it with reverence. Lan Fan the girl disappeared behind painted porcelain and pulled the cowl over her hair. Once more she gazed at her reflection. Only the bodyguard remained bristling with kunai and laden with explosives.

The caravan departed the Yao estate shortly after dawn. Prince Ling's entourage numbered a dozen consisting of servants, guards, and his mother. Despite the size of the party the prince had no one with whom to pass the time. Lady Yao traveled in a separate palanquin. Lan Fan walked in step with his, but would not be distracted from her watch. But for her height Ling couldn't distinguish her from the rest of his guardsmen. A testament to her training to be sure, but he found himself wanting for her companionship. It was nearly a day's journey to the imperial city. This day marked twenty years since the current emperor came to power. Members from each of Xing's fifty clans would be attending tonight's celebration in honor of the emperor (may he live a thousand years, health to his eminence, etc.).

Ling could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen the emperor, always from a distance and usually behind a silk screen. Sighing the prince flicked his fan open and closed then tapped the end against his lips in contemplation. What must it be like to have a father who can recall your name without an advisor reminding him? He glanced at Lan Fan through the translucent curtain shading him from the harshness of the afternoon sun. That mask must be sweltering. What was her father like, I wonder? She never spoke of the man. Perhaps she didn't remember him. Ling knew the man was a Yao guard who died in service. Did she know the specifics? He dared not ask. The prince drew the curtain aside to speak with his guard unimpeded.

"It occurs to me that this is your first visit to the capital." Lan Fan spared him a glance before returning her eyes to their surroundings. So watchful. "The new year's money is still unspent. What do you say we find a use for it in the market tomorrow?"

"My lord I don't believe there will be time for any excursions."

"Then we'll have to make time."

"As you say…"

"Will you always do as I say, Lan Fan?" he inquired hiding the seriousness of his question in a light tone. Now he had her attention. Those eyes behind the mask dark as bitter chocolate.

"Always… my lord."

Her intensity unsettled him. The weight of it was more than he expected. Ling allowed the curtain to swing back into place.

Festivities were held in the celestial gardens. Lanterns illuminated the area leaving enough dark corners to put the young bodyguard on edge. Servers bearing food and drink wove in and out of clusters of nobles. She wondered if anyone would dare to poison the delicacies. Likely the emperor had taken measures to prevent such a devastating outcome. Still, it would be all too easy for someone to poison a cup of wine. Fu stood watch somewhere on the rooftops for a better vantage point, while Lan Fan remained at the side of the prince and his mother. There were half as many guards lining the perimeter as there were guests. Prince Ling wore traditional robes in subdued shades of green and gold. On Ling's arm Xue Yao was radiant in red.

"A nest of vipers," Lady Yao whispered behind her fan. Lan Fan was apt to agree. Currently, the imperial dais remained empty though guarded all the same. How many here would gladly slaughter their way into that seat? More than Lan Fan liked to think. The party proceeded without disruption. Guests mingled and feasted and made merry. Every conversation laced with double meanings and insincerity. Lady Yao was whisked away by a cousin to be filled in on the juiciest of court gossip. The emperor made the briefest of appearances receiving a few of the more influential attendees from his throne. Rumor had it the emperor's health was in decline yet even from a distance he was an intimidating presence.

Ling filched a tray of pastries from an unsuspecting server; making a swift retreat to the shadow of a pillar on the edge of the festivities. Behind her mask Lan Fan smiled at his antics. The celebratory fireworks had just begun when two of the princesses retired to the shadows nearby to whisper behind a fan. Twins identical from head to toe from their features to their pale pink robes. They appears to be a few years older than the prince. Lan Fan caught the subtle tense of Ling's jaw at the sight of them and stepped closer.

"The seventh and eighth princesses. Bai and Bao Tien," Prince Ling muttered under his breath just loud enough for his vassal to hear, "Their brother was the twentieth prince. He died under suspicious circumstances."

"Suspicious?"

"Smothered by a blanket in his cradle. An accident." A burst of green firework illuminated his face. The darkness of his expression shook Lan Fan. She glanced at the Tien twins. They were pretty with delicate features and small hands. Were they capable of suffocating an infant? One twin noticed Ling and Lan Fan and whispered to the other. Arms linked they crossed the distance to prince and bodyguard. Lan Fan straightened, taking a step forward to keep the princesses from coming too close to Ling. The one on the left giggled.

"Prince Ling, you've managed to acquire the smallest watchdog I've ever seen."

"Yes, well, I select my retainers by their quality not quantity. Mooncake?" Ling smiled thinly and held out the tray.

"No, thank you," they replied in the same disdainful tone.

"Of course. They are rather large we wouldn't want you to choke…" Both girls narrowed their eyes at him and left to rejoin the party. "It seems I've lost my appetite. Pity. Aside from the food this party is rather insipid wouldn't you say?"

"...The fireworks are nice, my lord." Ling faced her and tilted his head. After a moment he turned on his heels and strolled over to the trellis against the wall.

"You're right. Let's get a better view of them." He grinned at her over his shoulder, climbing before she could protest. Lan Fan joined him on the roof. Sounds of the party seemed far away from here. Bursts of red and green cascaded against the night sky. It was a warm night. The air sweet with the scent of new blossoms. Ling laid back on the slope of the roof with his hands behind his head. "How do I ensure the prosperity of our clan? With so many backstabbing nobles serving their own interests... "

Lan Fan didn't have an answer, nor did she think he was truly asking her opinion on the matter. In the garden some of the smaller children had been given sparklers and were playing a game of tag. She watched them in their delight. Is Xiang watching the fireworks from his window? Lan Fan tried not to think of her little brother often. They were worlds apart even in the same city. Even if she did wish to see him they'd only be on opposing sides once he grew up. He was a Zhang after all. Best not to think of him as a brother. She felt Fu's presence before she saw him.

"Young lord, your mother is looking for you. She wishes to depart," said Fu.

"I suppose we must. The fireworks aren't as good as last year anyhow."

The market was a marvel of the capital. Shops and stalls were numerous with bustling crowds throughout despite the early hour. It was a sight worth seeing and it was Ling's favorite part of the city. He'd hoped Lan Fan would be pleased but she radiated anxiety. Concerned for his safety she hovered by his side, not letting him more than a step away. Ling, Lan Fan, and Fu were all dressed plainly in order to avoid standing out. To the unknowing they appeared merely to be two children running errands with their grandfather.

"Where to first?" Ling inquired. They'd split the money between them and he was curious to see what she'd buy with her share. He'd never seen her covet anything besides food.

"Wherever you please," she replied. Fu had instructed Lan Fan not to address Ling formally while in public, lest it draw unwanted attention. It went against every instinct to not follow her response with 'my lord' or 'master' or 'Prince Ling.' She didn't have the audacity to call him Ling. Even unmasked she knew her place.

"You aren't going to make this easy are you?" Ling took her hand. "Stay close it's easy to get lost here, Lady Liu."

He tossed her a grin and led her through the crowd. Lightning couldn't've jolted her more than Ling suddenly taking her by the hand. 'Lady Liu' set her cheeks ablaze. She wished she had her mask to hide her embarrassment. A sweet shop was their first stop. Fu mumbled they'd purchased enough to rot their teeth out twice over, but didn't dissuade them. They wandered the stalls to the point of Fu's impatience.

"We must return soon if we are to depart on time," Fu informed them.

For Lan Fan to look seemed more than enough. Each item she examined was enchanting. But nothing she needed. What use does a bodyguard have for this? she would ask herself. But at one booth Lan Fan lingered. The vendor sold fans, scarves, and hair adornments. Her eyes settled on a black lacquered comb with a design of gold cranes. It was simple and lovely, and Lan Fan felt ashamed for wanting it. She couldn't bring herself to touch it. When she turned around Ling was looking right at her. Her breath caught in her throat.

"Master Fu is right. We should return."

"There's nothing you want, Lan Fan?" He quirked an eyebrow at her and she shook her head. "I see. If you're certain." They began to make their way back to the palace when Lan Fan stopped to speak to a merchant selling kites. Fu and Ling waited nearby as she conducted her business. She pointed to a dragon kite. The man nodded, smiling, and accepted her money. He jotted something down in his ledger. Lan Fan bowed and returned to her companions empty handed while the merchant took down the kite and packaged it in brown paper.. Fu steadied his gaze on her, frowning in confusion.

"Xiang's birthday is next week," she told Fu not quite meeting his eyes.

"It's your money to spend as you please. Let's go." Lan Fan nodded and turned toward the prince. Or rather the place the prince was a moment before.

Prince Ling was nowhere to be seen.