Lan Fan locked eyes with her brother.

"I'm sorry!" Xiang exclaimed.

'Little Xiang is quite the storyteller.'

Lan Fan internalized Xiang's panic and made it her own.

Palpitations disrupted the steady beat of her heart. Adrenaline and cortisol coursed through her veins like venom. For years she pushed her little brother away. Meanwhile, Prince Junjie had the presence of mind to keep his little cousin close. If Xiang divulged her rendezvous with Ling to their imperial cousin she only had herself to blame.


"I'm so sorry," Xiang reiterated. "I-I'll clean it up."

The lordling prayed the floor would open up and swallow him. He felt mortified for a multitude of reasons in addition to being absolutely astounded.

Xiang never believed the whispering campaigns about the emperor and his sister. In fact he'd once gotten trounced in a fight with a boy at school who called his sister the emperor's trollop. He came home that day with a black eye and a broken thumb. He didn't tell his parents what instigated the schoolyard scuffle.

Shortly thereafter Lan Fan came home for a visit. She didn't ask how he broke his thumb. Instead she showed him how to make a proper fist.

Xiang dropped his eyes once more to the sugary mess he made. "I'll clean it up," he repeated. Xiang had no doubts about Lan Fan's honor, but now he wasn't so sure about the emperor.

Someone dropped a hand on his shoulder and Xiang nearly jumped out of his skin.


Lieutenant Gao put his hand on Xiang Zhang's shoulder.

"How are you at keeping secrets?" Qiyin inquired.

Xiang's eyes were wide as saucers.

He reminded Qiyin of Lan Fan when Master Fu first brought her to the Yao Estate as a toddler. Little Lan Fan stared wide eyed at anyone who spoke to her. Fu foisted her care off on his off-duty subordinates, while he watched over Prince Ling. Qiyin couldn't coax a single word from the little girl, but sweets bought him a smile from time to time.

"Huh?" Xiang was far more verbal than little Lan Fan albeit ineloquent.

Qiyin drew him close to converse in confidence.

"The most important quality of a bodyguard is discretion," Lieutenant Gao elaborated. "If you cannot be trusted to keep secrets you cannot be trusted to shadow the emperor."

"I can keep a secret," Xiang answered.

"I have your word?" Qiyin pressed.

"I swear," Xiang confirmed. "I won't tell anyone."


"Let's get you cleaned up," Lan Fan monotoned.

"Lan Fan," Ling said, reaching for her arm.

"Don't," Lan Fan cut him a look like broken glass. "I think you've done enough."

Ling dropped his hand back to his side.

Lan Fan circumvented the shards of sugar.

"Come on," Lan Fan put her arm around Xiang's shoulders. "Let's go."

Xiang nodded. Lan Fan couldn't bring herself to look at Qiyin. Without a backward glance she led her brother out of the shadows.


"Bordel de merde!"

Finally, someone who speaks my language, Margot thought.

The automail surgeon turned her attention away from the conversation between the Dowager Empress and a noble whose name Margot had already forgotten, and toward the commotion over at the bar. On the floor in front of the bar someone had collapsed. Margot went from curious to alarmed as she saw the foul mouthed, presumably Cretan gentleman crouch down beside the person on floor and reach a hand out to shake them.

"Arrêtez!" Margot shouted. "Ne le touche pas!" The gentleman jerked his hand away. Accustomed to running in heels the redhead rushed through the crowd to assess the severity of the situation. "Putain, qu'est-il arrivé?"

"Um," Ed looked up at her in distress. "He… il est tombé et s'est cogné la tête."

Margot recognized the infamous Fullmetal Alchemist.

Merde.

Margot Fontaine had hoped to dodge the military presence at the party.

Or rather Margaret Faulkner had to avoid the Amestrian Military at all costs. The military brass in attendance wasn't like to recognize Private Margaret "Maggie" Faulkner. Nevertheless, the woman now known as Margot Fontaine colored her brunette roots red the day prior to the party, and concealed her freckles under foundation.

It didn't matter if the Ishvalan War of Extermination took place more than fifteen years ago, nor did it matter that she hadn't signed up to be a soldier. In the eyes of the military Margaret Faulkner remained a deserter. A coward of a combat medic who abandoned her comrades in a time of war to save her own skin.

If anyone in the military discovered Margot Fontaine was Margaret Faulkner she would be court martialed and put to death by firing squad. As much as Margot wanted to grant Madeleine's wish to immigrate to Xing it wasn't an option. Margot's forged papers wouldn't hold up under anything more than cursory inspection.

None of that mattered right now. If she let Edward Elric touch the kid with a head and possible spinal injury he could end up paralyzed.

Or worse.


All of the Xingese nobles Edward Elric knew were fully bilingual in Xingese and Amestrian. And so, the theoretical alchemist swore in Cretan. It didn't occur to him that he might be in earshot of anyone fluent in the romantic language.

For once it looked like his penchant for cursing might get him out of trouble.

"Etes-vous un docteur?"

The redhead surprised Edward by switching to standard Amestrian.

"Automail engineer," she said, looking over her shoulder at a woman accompanied by one of Lan Fan's subordinates. The engineer snapped at the bodyguard and pointed to the spot next to Ed. "We need another pair of hands. Listen very carefully. The three of us are going to turn him over onto his back. While I stabilize his neck and head the two of you will roll him like a log toward you."

Edward nodded. He placed one hand on Junjie's hip and the other on his upper arm, while the bodyguard took his place next to him.

"On my count," the redhead instructed, as she stabilized Prince Junjie's head and cervical spine. "One. Two. Three."


Prince Junjie regained consciousness in a room he didn't recognize. The Ninth Prince wished he hadn't. The blinding migraine from earlier paled in comparison to the pain he now felt. The vision in his right eye had returned but now he saw double. Nausea washed over him like the wave of a stormy sea. The prince swiftly shut his eyes against the visual distortion.

While he waited for the nauseated feeling to subside he took stock of his physical state. He could move neither his head nor his extremities; he recognized the sticky feeling of blood on his face. Prince Junjie was no stranger to waking up on a backboard. He didn't remember the events leading up to his current predicament, but he thought it safe to presume he had a nasty fall.

When Master Kang catches wind of this he'll confine me to bed for a week.

Junjie groaned in a combination of pain and embarrassment.

"I think he's awake."

The prince didn't bother to open his eyes to see whom had spoken. The male voice sounded familiar but he couldn't place it. He didn't want to think about it. His head hurt too much to think.

"Prince Junjie?"

He opened his eyes to see The Dowager Empress leaning over him with a concerned frown on her pretty mouth. Lady Xue's features smoothed into her usual inscrutable countenance. A foreign woman with fiery hair moved into view above him. Junjie blinked in an attempt to clear his vision.

"I want you to follow my finger with your eyes. Keep your head still," The redhead instructed.

Junjie wanted to close his eyes but he did as he was told.

"Good job. I'm Margot. Why don't you tell me your name?"

Junjie Zhang

Prince Junjie opened his mouth only to find he couldn't verbalize his answer. Aphasia robbed him of his words. His eyes darted to Lady Xue in a desperate plea. The Dowager Empress toyed with her necklace and looked sidelong at the man to her left. Junjie followed her subtle glance.

Next to Lady Xue stood his cousin's colorful friend.

Edward. His name is Edward.

Margot took his hands and asked, "That's okay. We'll come back to that one. Can you squeeze my hands?" Junjie complied and the western doctor nodded in satisfaction. "Very good."

The doctor moved out of view. Prince Junjie heard the sounds of rummaging. He turned his eyes toward Edward. Presumably, Edward Elric. Junjie heard all about The Elric Brothers from Xiang. Indeed, Little Xiang was quite the storyteller. Prince Junjie enjoyed his little cousin's company immensely. The boy had boundless enthusiasm; he became even more animated than normal when he spun a yarn.

I hope Xiang got to meet The People's Alchemist.

Lan Fan Liu was acquainted with The Fullmetal Alchemist. It'd be a shame if she didn't introduce her brother to one of his beloved heroes.

Margot returned with a reflex hammer in hand.

Moving to the end of the bed she untied his oxfords, loosening the laces enough to slide the shoes off his feet without jostling him. The doctor ran the point of the hammer up the inside of his arches.

"That's what I like to see," Margot mumbled. "Wiggle your toes for me. Good." looked at Lady Xue, and said, "He isn't showing signs of spinal injury or brain bleed. I think we're looking at a concussion."


The Dowager Empress twisted her necklace around her finger. Xue Yao desired to speak with Prince Junjie in private, but Edward Elric's presence proved problematic. Junjie's diagnosis provided the perfect opportunity to get rid of the Fullmetal Alchemist.

"Mr. Elric, would you be so kind as to fetch us some ice from the kitchen?" Xue requested.

The alchemist acquiesced to her request.

"Thank you for all your help," Lady Xue lilted.

While Margot rewashed her hands Xue enveloped Junjie's delicate hand in her own. Prince Junjie squeezed her hand. The automail doctor returned to her patient's side.

"I need to clean that cut of yours, but first let's give that name another go.

"Junjie Zhang."