Quiet as a mouse Lan Fan slipped out of Ling's room early the next morning. The emperor was still asleep in bed. In the hallway Qiyin stood guard before the doors. Lan Fan grasped for something to say to him. "Please be sure you eat something before you return. There's a long day ahead of you, my lady," Qiyin spoke softly. The warmth of his tone wrapped around her heart. There weren't words to convey how much she valued him. Lan Fan wondered what she'd ever done to deserve his consideration.
Before she took her leave of him she gave him a grateful bow. Not until she was halfway back to her room did she realize he'd referred to her as lady. Lan Fan set the thought aside for later. The day ahead would be long indeed and this wasn't the time for semantics. Taking the long way around she arrived at her room sight unseen. Lan Fan combed her fingers through her sleep tangled hair as she let herself inside. There she discovered an unwelcome guest flipping through a catalogue.
"My, my, some of these advertisements are downright risqué," Shu remarked. He turned the catalogue lengthwise and whistled. Lan Fan's face went hot with anger and embarrassment when she realized he was looking at a lingerie catalogue from a stack of fashion magazines Madeline had given her.
"Give that to me!" Lan Fan hissed and crossed the room to wrench the glossy pages from his hands. "What are you doing here?"
"Waiting for you..."
Those dark eyes of his raked over her form. Shu raised an eyebrow as he took in her rumpled clothing and unruly hair. She felt naked under his scrutiny.
"What do you want?" Lan Fan demanded.
"That's a dangerous question," he teased.
"I don't have time to play games with you!"
"Everything is a game," Shu scoffed. "Besides, I'm here on business."
"Business?" Lan Fan blinked.
"Several of my agents have gone to ground. That wouldn't concern me so much if another hadn't turned up dead in the sewers."
"Is there a connection?"
He looked away with a grimace.
"If there is I haven't found it yet."
"You'll find it," Lan Fan said. "Whatever it is…"
"...we'll deal with it together," Shu finished. "I know."
Lan Fan nodded.
They were silent for a moment.
"I miss you," Shu confessed.
"Shu…"
"I know, I know." He chuckled. "But you should know…" Shu tucked his hands into his pockets, took a step closer, and looked into her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, Lan Fan. I'll be right here when you need me." Shu's face was as gentle as the hand he used to sweep her bangs from her eyes. "Will you promise not to forget that?"
Lan Fan was overwhelmed by his heartfelt words.
"I promise."
Shu leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.
"That's my girl," he whispered.
Lan Fan shut her eyes and didn't open them again until she heard the door snick shut behind him.
Captain Hawkeye entered the first class compartment currently in use as a briefing room. The winter wind flowing through the open window kept them from sweltering in the cramped accommodations. Coffee cups doubled as paperweights in order to keep important papers from escaping on the breeze. A typewriter occupied a corner of the table but its owner was nowhere to be seen. By the window Mustang sat thumbing through a Xingese phrasebook. Riza claimed the empty seat across from him.
"The conductor informs me the train is right on schedule, sir. We should arrive at the station within the hour," said Riza.
"Very good, Captain," He acknowledged. Throughout the past three days Mustang had kept the phrasebook close at hand. By the look of it the book was quite old. The leather bound reference guide was pocket sized and worn around the edges. A number of the pages were marked with folded corners. The margins were filled with notes, yet she hadn't seen him so much as reach for a pen.
"How's the Xingese coming along?" Riza removed her mug from a stack of papers, storing them away in the attaché case at her feet. Roy looked up from book with a rueful smile.
"Let's just say I can now flirt flawlessly in two languages," Roy replied.
"I wasn't aware you could flirt flawlessly in one," she deadpanned.
"Ouch." Roy splayed his hand over his heart. "You wound me, Captain."
"I'm certain your ego has survived worse, General."
Roy chuckled as he slipped a photograph from between the pages.
"I have it on record that the last man to use this book successfully wooed and wed a beautiful Xingese woman."
He reached across the table to hand Riza the picture. Keeping a careful hold on the edges she turned the photograph toward the sunlight. The image frozen in time showed a handsome couple on their wedding day. They stood beneath an arbor covered in morning glories looking at one another in adoration. The groom sported a morning coat and top hat, while the bride was dressed in a long sleeved wedding gown. A gust of wind caught the trailing lace veil. Riza saw traces of Roy in this unmistakably Xingese woman.
"I didn't realize your mother was from Xing. Wasn't her name was Helena?"
"Your memory is sharp as your eye." Roy nodded. "Yes, Helena Mustang née Zhou. One of my grandparents' attempts to help her assimilate into Amestrian culture. Her Xingese name was Li-Na. I'm told it means 'one who has beauty and grace.'"
"It suits her." Riza didn't suppress the soft smile that rose to her lips. "When did she immigrate?"
"I believe it was 1871 or '72. My grandparents settled in Central and opened a restaurant. They mostly served Amestrianized Xingese fare, but there was another menu of traditional dishes for Xingese diners."
"Is that how your parents met?" she asked.
"Not quite. My father was working as a stockboy in the open air market at the time. She went there every morning with her mother to buy fresh produce. She spoke a little Amestrian, but she was shy about her accent. The first time he greeted her in butchered Xingese she was elated."
"Madame Christmas told me the story of how they met enough times I could recite it verbatim, but this relic she held onto until a recently. After reading some of the more lascivious translations I see now why she waited until I was older to pass it along." Looking at her through his bangs Roy smirked in a most wicked manner. "If you like I could give you a recitation in private."
"General," Riza warned even as she felt her neck grow warm.
"You know, there's only so long one can be engaged to be engaged. When are you going to make an honest man of me, Miss Hawkeye?"
"I'm not discussing this while we're on duty, sir."
"Do you like the veil?" Roy turned the picture toward her again. "It belonged to my great grandmother. Three generations of Mustang women have worn it at their weddings."
Sighing she gave the picture a second look.
"It's a lovely veil. I would be honored to wear it," Riza stated.
The door to the compartment opened, putting an end to the conversation. Roy tucked the photograph away and winked at her. In stepped the owner of the typewriter, a fair haired bespectacled young man by the name of Sebastian Schuyler. He held an ink ribbon in one hand and a carafe of coffee in the other.
Sebastian was a last minute addition to the diplomatic support staff. He was a brilliant young man who completed his study of law at the impressive age of twenty, before serving a year as a political aide to a member of parliament. Following his time in parliament he secured a position as an attaché. Sebastian landed this particular assignment due to his nearly perfect score on the Xingese Language Proficiency Test.
Impressive resume aside Hawkeye didn't have a solid read on him. Sebastian's suits were bespoke, but he couldn't manage to knot his ties properly. When he wasn't briefing them on the political climate of Xing he spent much of his time writing in a travelogue. The fountain pen he used looked like it cost a small fortune, yet he was forever getting ink stains on his fingertips.
Sebastian took his seat in front of the typewriter and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. He started to set the carafe on the table then remembered himself. "Would either of you care for another cup?" He glanced between them in question.
"Thank you but I'd better not if I want my hands steady," she answered.
Roy smiled politely and declined with a wave of his hand. The young man took a sip of his coffee before replacing the ink ribbon. Hawkeye reminded herself to assemble a dossier on Sebastian Schuyler when they returned to Central. If he turned out to be as useful as he seemed on paper they'd do well to offer him a position on Roy's campaign staff.
