February 1914
Imperial Capital
With feather light strokes Suyin applied white makeup to the canvas of her daughter's face. The two sat at Suyin's vanity. It'd taken much cajoling on Suyin's part to convince Lan Fan to allow her to apply makeup on her for the family portrait. The girl had her eyes closed and the corners of her mouth pulled down into a frown. A bit of the fine powder puffed up into Lan Fan's nose causing her to sneeze. She opened her eyes when Suyin chuckled. The vanity was littered with numerous jars of makeup, a dozen brushes laid out like surgical tools. Over the mirror a scarf was draped to prevent her from a glimpse of the work in progress. Suyin had a smile on her face as she selected a fine brush, and unscrewed the lid from a bottle of inky liquid.
"Eyes closed," her mother instructed. Years of practiced discipline kept her still, hands folded in her lap instead of clinched in fists. Delicate sweeps of brushes of various sizes tickled her face. She wondered if she'd look like a jester when her mother was through. Though she'd vehemently protested this activity Lan Fan had to admit, if only to herself, that she enjoyed the quietness of it. The last six days were a cacophony of bickering with her mother and her brother hounding her with his unquenchable thirst attention. Xiang was off in his room getting ready with the help of a servant.
While modest in comparison to the Yao estate Lan Fan was uncomfortable amidst the opulence of Liwei Zhang's home. The deference the servants showed her was incongruent with the tenets of her upbringing. Her place within the Yao clan in discord with her status as the stepdaughter of a lesser noble. Jasmine assaulted her nose when Suyin lifted the stopper from a small glass bottle of perfume. It was sweet to the point of nausea.
"Mother-" she began to protest. What is the point of wearing perfume for a photograph?
"Just a touch. Indulge me?" Lan Fan held back a sigh and relented. A dab behind each ear. The scent wasn't so overwhelming in moderation. She'd never worn perfume. Even a little could give away her position in the shadows with a change in the wind. Not even her bathing soap was scented.
"We should pierce your ears. Jade studs that would suit you nicely."
"I don't need my ears pierced."
"My mother pierced my ears when I was your age. It won't hurt much."
Does she honestly think I'm afraid of pain? Lan Fan thought.
"A bodyguard-"
"-has no need for jewelry," Suyin sighed, "I know." She picked up a brush then sat behind her daughter to style her hair. Lan Fan tried to push away the guilt she felt at her mother's disappointed tone. Again they fell into silence. Suyin pulled some of her hair back, fixing it in place with a pin, "There we are."
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind Lan Fan's ear then removed the scarf from the looking glass. Lan Fan looked at her reflection. Eyes accented with pale pink shadow and lined in black; Lips stained the color of raspberries, eyebrows darkened and defined. She was unrecognizable to herself. No, she corrected and glanced at Suyin in the mirror, I look just like her.
"Look how lovely you are, Lan Fan. You will make the most beautiful bride someday," Suyin smiled proudly. She adjusted the sash of her daughter's dress, smoothed a crease from her collar.
"A bride?" Lan Fan's voice wavered.
Taking a seat next to Lan Fan again Suyin opened a tin of salve and slathered the substance on one of Lan Fan's hands. She took care as she massaged the salve into Lan Fan's rough hands, paying special attention to her calluses and cuticles. Once she'd given the other hand the same treatment she retrieved a file from a drawer, setting about shaping Lan Fan's short, ragged nails. "Yes, a bride. A wife. Perhaps a mother one day. Despite what your grandfather has told you there's more to life than subjugating yourself to your liege. One day you may wish to settle down."
The notion was a vise around Lan Fan's heart. It was all she could do to breathe. Imagining a path different from the one she'd chosen as a child disturbed her. Her purpose in life was to protect Prince Ling. Anything else was a distraction. Lan Fan looked in the mirror trying to picture herself older, contented with a life in the shadow of a husband, kept busy with children. It was a smeared watercolor of Suyin's life. The acrid smell of nail varnish drew her attention. In silence she watched as Suyin painted her nails as dark as cherries. "Mother…"
The door to the room slid open. Xiang darted under his father's arm with a grin and rushed to Lan Fan and Suyin's side. Were it not for the difference in age Xiang and Lan Fan could be mistaken for twins. Aside from his short hair and a smile that came easily he was a carbon copy of his sister. He was tall for seven with an abundance of excitement and energy. Exhausting as he was Lan Fan struggled not to like Xiang. Liwei remained by the door watching with a pleasant expression. Though nearing fifty with grey beginning to grace his hair he was handsome. Despite Lan Fan's reservation toward her stepfather he'd never shown her anything but kindness. Sometimes she wished he were cold or mean tempered. It'd make it easier to see him as the enemy.
"You've outdone yourself, Su. Lan, you look very beautiful. Just like your mother," Liwei said. Always he called her Lan. Once the abbreviation of her name grated on her, but she'd become accustomed. There was no mistaking the affection of it.
"Sister, will you stand next to me for the picture?"
"If you like…" Lan Fan replied and Xiang beamed. Suyin took her husband's arm and the four of them filed out into the garden where the photographer had set up before the koi pond. As it turned out there were many photographs to be taken: all four together, Liwei and Suyin, Lan Fan with Xiang, Liwei and Suyin separately with each of the children, and finally portraits of each of them individually. Lan Fan had never had her photograph taken before. By the end of the session her vision swam with spots from the flashbulbs. She was beginning to develop a headache. Once finished Xiang ruffled his hair out of the neat style in which it'd been combed.
"Xiang, we still have dinner to attend," Suyin admonished as she attempted to fix his hair with her fingers.
"Aw but mother I wanted sister to teach me how to throw knives! Do we have to?"
"Dinner?" Lan Fan frowned. This was the first she'd heard of it. For the first time it dawned on her Suyin might possess some ulterior motive to dressing her up. Lan Fan threw a look as sharp as a blade at her mother, "Dinner where?"
"Lan Fan will do nothing of the sort. You're too little to play with knives."
"But mother! Lan Fan got to train with knives when she was four," Xiang whined.
"That has nothing to do with you. Go fetch your coat. If we don't leave now we'll be late."
"It isn't fair!"
Lan Fan rounded on Liwei when Suyin didn't answer.
"Dinner where?"
"We're attending a small gathering at the Zhang estate this evening."
Beneath the white powder her face grew hot with anger. It was one thing to visit Suyin Zhang and quite another to attend a gathering of the Zhang clan. Her loyalties might be called into question.
"If you think I'm going to attend a Zhang party-!" Lan Fan started in on Suyin even as Xiang's tantrum escalated.
"I want to train with Master Fu! Why does Lan Fan get to and I don't?"
"-under no circumstance am I going to dine at the Zhang estate! I'd rather eat glass!"
"Enough!" Liwei Zhang silenced them with a word, "You will not speak to your mother with such disrespect. Go fetch your coats the both of you. I will not tell you again."
The siblings jolted at the ire in Liwei's voice. He did not have to tell them twice.
Yao Estate
In Lady Yao's study Ling Yao lounged on the floor by the fire perusing a thick tome on alkehestry. He'd surrounded himself with stacks of books he'd compiled from the library in addition to the ones he'd recently scrounged up in the market. At her desk Xue Yao occupied herself with correspondence. When Ling tossed the book aside with a sigh she looked up from her letter. She set aside her ink brush and letter to observe him. For days now he'd been agitated and sullen. Certainly the race to the throne weighed on him, but she wondered how much of his demeanor had to do with the absence of his youngest bodyguard. Ling wasn't yet fifteen, but already he was a head taller than her and maturing into a man.
Xue rose from her desk, barefeet and hem of her robes whispering against the floor, and joined him by the fire. She reached out and brushed her thumb lightly over the crease between his eyes. A smile briefly tugged at the corners of his mouth and he turned his attention her. This evening Xue's long hair was worn down. It made her look younger. Sighing once more he laid his head on her knee and gazed at up at his mother, "I'm certain the red elixir is the key to immortality. I should have studied alkehestry. Now there is no time for me to learn."
"You will find a way," she stroked the back of her hand down his cheek and jaw.
Ling allowed his eyes to shut. Between his training and tutoring, and her courtly duties they didn't often have time together. When they did attend events at court together they moved in different circles. It wouldn't do for him to cling to her skirts like a child in public. "You sound so certain."
"You must also be certain of it." For a time they were both silent. Xue unbound Ling's hair, combing her fingers through the strands.
"The other potential heirs will scour Xing for the secret to immortality. Perhaps I should instead travel to the west. Seek out immortality in the land from which the Western Philosopher originated," Ling mused.
"Crossing the desert will be perilous."
"Best I don't go it alone then..."
Imperial City
This is a small gathering? Lan Fan grit her teeth. The Zhang province held a population of nearly 250,000 people. Their holdings and influence at court were enough for rival clans to be wary. More than a hundred Zhang clansmen and their guests were in attendance. The party took place in the main hall, spilling out into the garden as well. Suyin had the forethought to confiscate the majority of Lan Fan's knives, though she hadn't discovered the kunai sheathed to her thigh. The dress Lan Fan wore leant itself well to concealing weapons, but the tightly cinched sash and trailing sleeves hindered her movement. Before this Lan Fan had only attended gatherings of this sort as a guard. She felt naked without her mask. Vulnerable without her assortment of blades and bombs.
Xiang kept her company until he spotted several of his cousins. While he engaged in mischief Lan Fan tried to remain inconspicuous. This was best accomplished by avoiding her mother. If she couldn't disappear behind a mask then she was determined to be a wallflower. As the party wore on her anxiety abated though didn't dissipate. Many tables overflowing with food and drink lined the walls. Lan Fan was unable to enjoy even this, since her constricting robes barely allowed for breathing let alone eating. After an hour of subterfuge Liwei found her hiding spot in the the garden.
"There you are, Lan. Your mother is looking for you," he said.
"She only wants to parade me in front of potential suitors," seethed Lan Fan.
"Suyin means well."
"She meddles."
"The prerogative of a mother," Liwei chuckled and offered his arm, "Mine often did the same. Just be cordial. It won't take long."
No one has ever described me as cordial.
Suyin was awash with relief when Liwei returned with Lan Fan. Liwei introduced Lan Fan as their daughter to a number of nobles and their sons; she clenched her jaw each time, but didn't correct the assumption that she was Lan Zhang. No one will mistake Lan Fan Liu for Lan Zhang. No one knew her face, but she'd seen many of these nobles over the years. She'd attended enough court functions by now to recognize many by face if not name. Remaining laconic seemed the best course of action. After an hour of the same dull conversation with half a dozen clusters of nobles she feigned thirst. Mollified by Lan Fan's cooperation Suyin excused her without objection.
Lan Fan passed by a waiter, filching a glass of punch, and ducked into an alcove. She took a sip of her drink and choked when a taste like liquorice gone wrong assaulted her tongue. It burned down her throat, eyes watering as she coughed into her hand. Nearby someone chuckled. She looked over to see a young man dressed in shades of cerulean and pewter leaned against a pillar watching her. He was perhaps seventeen and on the thin side with a pale countenance; his expression a mixture of amusement and concern, "Are you all right?"
"The punch is bad."
"Is it?" He looked into his own cup, before walking over and taking her drink. One small sip later he nodded.
"Ah. This is not punch."
"It's awful."
"It's a liqueur from Aerugo. Sambuca I think it's called. Here," he held out his glass which appeared to actually have punch and smiled, "You will like this better. Don't worry I haven't drunk from it."
Eyeing him suspiciously she took the glass and hazarded as taste. It was delicious.
"Thank you."
"I know you," he stated. Again, he sipped the liqueur. Lan Fan didn't know how he could drink something so vile.
"I doubt that."
"Rather I know of you," he amended, "Lady Suyin's daughter, correct? You take after her."
Lan Fan snorted into her drink, That's a laugh.
"You and I are third cousins through marriage."
"Are we?" she returned with disinterest.
"We are," he had a twinkle in his eye Lan Fan didn't care for, "Though you are not a Zhang."
Lan Fan narrowed her eyes ever so slightly.
"I didn't catch your name."
"It's Junjie."
This time she choked so hard on her drink it nearly came out her nose. The Ninth Prince Junjie Zhang held out a handkerchief. Too afraid of offending to refuse Lan Fan accepted the cloth. After a moment she composed herself. Her face flushed hot with embarrassment; veins burning from adrenaline. It was known the Zhang prince didn't often attend court functions due to poor health. Often he sent a proxy to the palace in the case of trivial matters. Regardless she should've recognized him. Junjie Zhang and Ling Yao had the same eyes if nothing else. Lan Fan cursed herself.
"You're not what I imagined of a Yao watchdog," Junjie mused, "But one can never rely on appearances. Wouldn't you agree?"
He's baiting me, Lan Fan bit her tongue and tasted blood. Prince Ling would know just the sort of pithy remark to use in this situation. Then again he was a prince and could speak far more freely than Lan Fan. As it was she didn't trust herself to speak. A quick scan didn't turn up any guards, but she was smart enough to know they were watching from closeby. She would at any rate.
"Pity you didn't become a proper Zhang. You might've been my guard instead."
"I'd never be a proper Zhang regardless of my surname." These words were true enough. Even if she'd been adopted by Liwei she was seven when he married her mother. For four years she'd already lived, trained, and studied with her grandfather. Enough time for him to cultivate loyalty and devotion to the Yao clan. She'd never have been a guard as a Zhang. Not to Prince Ling, nor anyone else of importance.
"Is that so? Well, someone's made a proper lady of you this evening."
"One can never rely on appearances," Lan Fan spat Prince Junjie's words back at him. The prince laughed. With an idle grace he swirled the contents of his glass and took a step closer. Too close for comfort. Near enough to see the light dusting of freckles on his cheeks. Lan Fan was flustered in a way she couldn't pinpoint. He stared into her eyes as if searching for something. She looked back-thinking of Prince Ling's eyes, which somehow that made it all worse-hoping she didn't telegraph her unease. Whatever he saw in her brought a sly smile to his lips. Junjie reached up, slipping a lock of her hair through his thin fingers.
"Something tells me we could be of great use to one another, Lady Liu."
It was the honorific that sparked her temper. Abandoning her better judgement she clasped his slender wrist tightly. Beneath his too pale skin the bones felt fragile, easily broken. A wince of pain cross his features as he released her hair. He didn't let his smile slip. Vaguely aware of how reckless she was behaving Lan Fan spoke in a dangerous whisper, "I know where my loyalty lies. Don't think I'll be manipulated, my lord."
Lan Fan released Junjie's wrist when he stepped back. A masked guard approached them with a hand on the hilt of a blade. Prince Junjie waved him off with a smile. He didn't seem as deterred by her words as she'd hoped. "Ling Yao is fortunate to have a vassal with such fierce devotion. Give my best to your liege. I'm sure our paths will cross again."
As the Zhang prince strolled off with guard in tow Lan Fan realized she still had his handkerchief. She held it tightly and willed herself not to tremble.
