"Yours or mine, Lan Fan?"

The emperor lost the teasing gleam in his eyes. Even alone she didn't allow herself to think of him as Ling. Especially when it was only the two of them, though they were never truly alone. She'd had two additional guards shadowing them all evening. They currently stood watch in the corridor. Another six patrolled this wing and the roof. Each one vetted by Lan Fan herself and approved by his highness. "Where are your modern sensibilities to go along with that hair?"

Once resisting his jests had been a game. For better or worse, one way or another, Prince Ling always won in the end. Now he was emperor and Lan Fan couldn't afford to be overly familiar with him. Lan Fan bit her tongue lest it betray her better judgement. The modern style was entirely the influence of Madeleine Rousseau. Inspired by a flyer for the nightclub the singer included in a recent letter. Madeleine reproduced in curved lines and bold colors with her hair cut short, framing her face in waves. It was signed in Madeleine's flourished cursive: 'For mon coeur. With love, M.' The singer's beauty wasn't something she could emulate, she knew that, but she'd thought perhaps there was no harm in a small attempt. Vain, foolish notion. She bowed, the curtain of her hair falling into her face. "I wouldn't dare presume to tell you your place, Emperor."

"Then tell me yours."

"Behind a mask," she answered with conviction. "In the shadows. Between you and any foolish enough to wish you harm. Until the day I'm dead and buried alongside my father and grandfather."

Silence flooded the room until all she heard was their breathing; the echo of her hearts tempo in her head. Ling rose to his feet, took a step closer, then another. Lan Fan stayed in her bow with her eyes on the floor. She heard the quiet rustle of fabric when the emperor retrieved something from his pocket. A square of rumpled silk fell to the floor between them. The emperor placed his hand on the elbow of her automail arm, careful not to trigger the concealed blade, then slid it down her forearm to lift her metal hand. She watched Ling trace his thumb along her artificial lifeline. Hundreds upon hundreds of times she'd watched his hands as he danced pen across paper, worked a whetstone along a blade, brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. Hands as familiar as her own. In her palm he placed the lacquered comb she'd longed for so many years ago.

"This is-" Lan Fan was stunned. She hadn't forgotten it, but she couldn't believe it was the same one. How? How did he know? Lan Fan straightened her back and looked up at him.

"Something I've held onto for a long time. You are my greatest protector, my closest confidant." Ling closed her fingers around the comb. "You will always be Lady Bodyguard to me."

Lan Fan woke before sunrise with her thoughts on what transpired with the emperor the night before. Midnight struck with the change of the guard. Her second in command had taken over her watch, escorting Emperor Ling back to his private rooms for the night, effectively rescuing her from making even more of a fool of herself. I didn't even thank him for the gift. The comb rested on the vanity next to her mask. The room she called her own was decent enough sized and furnished with a bed, a cabinet for her clothing, and stand upon which her armor hung. Now that she resided permanently in the imperial city most of her belongings were housed at her stepfather's estate. Her next guard shift wasn't until tomorrow morning and she was due for a visit with her family. For once she was grateful for a reprieve from her duties. She wasn't sure what to do or say when she saw the emperor again. The implications of his words whirled in her mind.

Don't make interferences, she scolded herself. Her intuition she trusted in most circumstances, but when it came to the emperor her feelings were unreliable. They were inextinguishable, best kept smothered if she wanted to keep her wits about her. Lan Fan rose from bed and proceeded to the bathhouse in the servants wing. Since her brother was certain to ask her to train with him she decided to deviate from her routine of running three miles before breakfast. This early she had the bath to herself. She took advantage of the quiet to soak longer than usual, letting the heat work the tension from her muscles.

Before the morning birds could take up their songs Lan Fan made her way back. She took care to wick the moisture from the joints of her automail with a soft cloth before using the oil Margot sent in a recent care package. While she hadn't seen the two of them in five years they were often in her thoughts. Margot wrote infrequently, preferring to let Madeleine do the corresponding for both of them, but she kept Lan Fan supplied with all manner of practical things. A bottle of oil here, a polishing cloth there. A new pair of fur lined gloves each winter with the warning that her automail was 'not for cold weather' and 'don't blame me if you get frostbite.'

Lan Fan dried her damp hair with a towel before working the tangles out with a brush. For a long time she stared at her reflection in the looking glass. Her cheeks still pink from the bath, hair straight since she hadn't bothered to pin it while it dried, mouth twisted in a frown of contemplation. She glanced at the comb. It was more elegant than she remembered. As Lan Fan considered she worried her thumb across her lower lip. Wearing it would be a sign of gratitude. Taking care not to snag any strands in her automail Lan Fan pinned one side of her hair back just above her ear with the comb. The golden cranes on the black lacquer glinted subtly in the light when she turned her head. Pulling herself away from the mirror Lan Fan dressed in a long sleeved black cheongsam with small white blossoms embroidered on the skirt. The embroidery was her own handiwork. Her dexterity was long since recovered, but it pleased her mother to no end that Lan Fan would join her in the activity.

From a drawer she retrieved a pair of black linen gloves. She'd taken a page out of Edward Elric's book shortly after returning to Xing. While trade had been restored between Amestris and Xing for several years automail was still uncommon. Gloves attracted fewer stares than her metal arm. The weather was brisk enough for them at any rate. She slipped on her shoes and the gloves before arming herself with five kunai-the ones Shu made for her. The sixth was long gone. She'd used it to dampen the blow of Fuhrer Bradley's sword. Dropped on the battlefield in their retreat. If not for Shu's craftsmanship the cut might've proved fatal. Lan Fan pushed the memory from her mind as she wrapped a white pashmina scarf around her neck. With coins tucked into her pockets with a flashbang or two she left the palace after daybreak.

The morning was clear with a pleasant breeze stirring the leaves. Shops and stalls were already open throughout the market. Lan Fan passed by the storefronts without a glance making her way to a specialty cafe in one of the more affluent areas of the the district. The pale pink sign above the cafe read pâtisserie in delicate gold script with the Xingese characters for bakery below. Less than half the tables outside were occupied due to the early hour and cool weather, but the inside of the shop was crowded with customers. The pâtisserie was quite popular with the younger generation who delighted in all things neoteric. A mix of those dressed traditionally and in western attire chattered in line for the confection of the day-a chocolate almond croissant according to the framed chalkboard behind the counter. The display case was full of freshly baked bread and pastries.

Lan Fan's mouth watered at the decadent mixture of sugar, flour, and coffee beans in the air as she entered. It was the only place she'd found in the city that brewed coffee and espresso as well as Madeleine. She joined the queue, settling into the hustle and bustle of the cafe. No one paid her any mind. The clamor of the cafe was comforting. It helped drown out her troublesome thoughts. Behind her the door opened with a chime and a gust of wind. Someone a touch out of breath stepped in line behind her.

"Excuse me?" A tap on her shoulder. Lan Fan, resisting the urge to grab the wrist of the offending hand and twist, turned around. Instead of a stranger she found herself looking up at Alphonse Elric. The young man's short hair was tousled from the wind, clothes a bit rumpled, and he carried a suitcase in one hand. His face lit up with a grin. "I thought that was you!"

"Alphonse," she uttered. The emperor mentioned he'd arrived in Xing. Lan Fan'd thought he'd be off to visit the Chang princess. By the look of him he was fresh off the train. "This is a surprise."

"I should say the same," Al returned and held out a hand. "It's good to see you, Lan Fan."

"It's good to see you as well. It's been some time." Lan Fan shook his hand and accompanied it with a brief bow.

"I almost didn't recognize you. You look nice. Not to say that you don't always look nice. What I mean to say is you always look nice, but especially today. Is it a special occasion?" Al amended. His politeness had always belayed his intimidating appearance when he was merely a soul trapped in seven feet of armor. Now he was tall and handsome and his good manners were endearing. The younger Elric brother had clearly inherited all the charm. She wondered if he noticed the admiring glances thrown in his direction.

"No, I have the day off. I'm visiting my family later." A few more people crammed into the shop behind Al. Lan Fan stepped forward with the line, careful not to bump into the couple ahead of them.

"That's good. It's always nice to spend time family. You know, come to think of it, I don't know much about your family. Well, aside from..." Alphonse cleared his throat, refraining from mentioning Fu. "Do you have brothers and sisters?"

"A younger brother, Xiang. He's fourteen."

"A little brother?" He grinned that infectious smile of his. "He must look up to you a lot."

"He wants to follow in my footsteps. Much to our mother's displeasure." Lan Fan found themselves next in line to order. "Would you like anything?"

"Hm? Oh no please don't go to any trouble." Alphonse protested.

"I still owe you for the room service."

That drew a laugh from him. Lan Fan gave him one of her rare smiles. "In that case I'll have whatever you're having. I'll grab us a table."

Lan Fan joined him at a table with two orders of pain au chocolat and coffee. He thanked her as he added sugar to his cup. She stirred cream in hers and removed her right glove to keep it clean. They ate in silence awhile until Al struck up the conversation again. "How are you?"

"I'm well. Not much has changed since you were last here. I take it you're well?"

"Things are great. It was nice going home to Resembool. Though, it's good to be back in Xing. And Ling? How's he?"

She hid her blush behind her cup. Emperor Ling was the last topic in the world she wanted to discuss. Thinking about him conjured ideas she knew better than to entertain. Lan Fan tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, fingertips catching against the comb. Alphonse followed the movement with his eyes.

"In good health. He hasn't changed either," she answered diplomatically.

"Is that so?" Mischief glinted in his expression.

"You can judge for yourself."

"All right then. I should change first. I'd rather not look like I've been on the train for three days when I make an appearance." Al ran his fingers through his bangs and finished off his coffee. "Thanks again for breakfast. I'm glad I ran into you. I'll see you later?"

"You could clean up at my family's home. There's no sense getting lodgings when his highness will insist you stay at the palace."
"Are you sure? I don't want to impose."

"I'm certain," she replied.

They arrived at Liwei Zhang's home shortly thereafter. Lan Fan opened the gate and beckoned Alphonse inside. In the courtyard a gardener was raking the fallen leaves. He bid Lan Fan good morning, giving Al a curious look. Lan Fan returned his greeting and led Al into the house. Down the hall she heard the murmur of activity from the dining room. She brought them to the dining room and slid open the door to find her family in the midst of breakfast. Liwei looked over first, his mouth curving into a warm smile.

"Lan, what a pleasant surprise. Have you eaten yet? Come have a seat," Liwei welcomed her then noticed Alphonse Elric behind her. Next to him Suyin, as put together as ever even so early in the day, straightened in her seat. Her eyes darted from Alphonse to Lan Fan and back again. Xiang held a bowl of rice in one hand and his chopsticks in the other. His face was alight with curiosity, he didn't notice when he dropped a clump of rice in his lap. At fourteen Xiang was already as tall as Lan Fan and resembled her strongly.

"I've eaten. This is my friend Alphonse Elric. He's arrived from Amestris this morning and we bumped into each other. I told him it would be all right for him to freshen up here before he meets with the Emperor."

"It's very nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Liu. And you must be Xiang," Al grinned at Lan Fan. "He looks just like you!"

"It's Zhang. My mother is remarried," Lan Fan corrected him.

"Oh. My apologies. It's nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Zhang."

"Welcome to our home, Mr. Elric," said Liwei.

"Just Alphonse is fine."

"Please won't you join us for breakfast? A cup of tea at the very least," Suyin invited eagerly. Lan Fan didn't like the way she was looking at Alphonse Elric. Half cordial, half predatory. As if she would pounce on him at any moment for some nefarious purpose. "Lan Fan, go fetch another tea setting for your friend."

"Yes, mother…" Lan Fan was starting to regret this whole thing. She went to the sideboard to fetch tea cups for them both.

"Thank you, Mrs. Zhang." Alphonse took a seat and Xiang leaned forward in his own.

"You're the Alphonse Elric? Lan Fan told me the Elric brothers are the cleverest alchemists in all of Amestris. Is it true you can do alchemy without transmutation circles? Can you show me?" Xiang asked in rapid fire.

"Xiang, Alphonse is our guest. He's not here to entertain you with tricks," Suyin admonished.

"I'd be happy to show him, though it's not the best activity for the breakfast table. I'm actually in Xing to continue my study of alkahestry. My brother and I've studied alchemy since we were children, but there's still much more to learn."

Lan Fan sat next to Alphonse, pouring tea for the two of them. She remained a spectator while Liwei and Suyin exchanged pleasantries with Alphonse and Xiang inquired about Amestris and alchemy. Suyin seemed to notice Al's flagging energy as breakfast wound down. She set down her cup and turned to Xiang. "Darling, why don't you show Alphonse to the guest room? I'm sure he could use a rest. Alphonse, it's been a pleasure to meet you. I hope you'll join us for dinner soon. When your studies allow for it of course."

"Thank you, Mrs. Zhang, for all your hospitality." Alphonse stood, bowing respectfully, then was whisked away by Xiang.

"He's a nice young man," Suyin lilted at her daughter.

"Mm."

"Suyin…" A warning from Liwei. Lan Fan caught on to where this was going.

"Quite respectable from the sound of things. Is he the one who sends you all that mail you're so secretive about?" her mother teased.

"Alphonse is a friend. Nothing more."

"Even if he's a foreigner you could do worse. Automail is so common in that country. I'm sure he doesn't even bat an eye at such things."

Lan Fan set her cup down hard enough to rattle the table. "Foreign or otherwise I have no interest in being courted."

She excused herself before the conversation turned into a proper argument. In the safety of her bedroom Lan Fan shut her eyes and breathed. She kept them closed, letting the quiet settle into her like a balm. When her irritation subsided she opened her eyes and went to the phonograph in the corner. Thanks to Madeline she had a dozen or so records. The phonograph was a gift from her stepfather. Left in her room without preamble between visits. Lan Fan selected a record and set it to play at a low volume before laying on her bed. It was swing music from a popular Amestrian big band. She liked the clear ring of trumpets. A light knock on her door and Xiang stepped inside.

"I like your friend." He smiled and shut the door behind him. Xiang turned up the music then joined her on the bed. "Is something the matter?"

"No," She denied. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you're having a sulk."

"I'm not sulking."

"You should tell your face," Xiang teased.

"This is how my face always looks."

"Not true. You get a funny little quirk to your mouth when you're in a mood. Right there." He tapped his finger against the corner of her lips and she swatted his hand away.

"I'm not in a mood. Not exactly…"

"Then what is it exactly?"

"Xiang," she sighed.

"Lan Fan," he sighed in return. Xiang laid next to her, tilted his head to rest against hers. "I wish you would tell me things. You can you know. We're siblings."

"It's not that I wish to keep secrets from you. There are certain things I can't tell anyone," she said remorsefully. If she could confided in someone it would be him. He'd grown from an eager child into a kind young man. Always amicable and full of enthusiasm. But she didn't know how to surmount the distance she'd kept between them for so many years.

"It's not that you can't tell me. You won't. Lan Fan, you don't trust me." The hurt in his voice pricked at her heart. He sat up and turned an all too familiar frown on her. "We're the same blood. You're one of us even if you pretend not to be. More than you know."

"What do you mean by that?" Lan Fan sat up as well. When Xiang rose from the bed she grasped his wrist firmly. "Xiang!"

He wrenched his arm away with a huff. Xiang crossed his arms over his chest and regarded his sister. After a moment his expression softened and something Lan Fan thought might be guilt flickered in his eyes. In her chest her heart beat a bit faster. She licked her lips and asked again.

"Xiang, what did you mean more than I know?"

"I shouldn't have said that. I only meant…" He trailed off, ran a hand through his hair. "Would it really be so bad to be a Zhang? It's just a name."

"It's not just a name. I'm a Liu. I'm the only one left."

Xiang met her eyes regretfully and Lan Fan's stomach turned.