Prince Junjie woke to the sound of whispers. The two women who watched over him throughout the night conversed in Cretan in the other room. The Ninth Prince admired sound of the romantic language in melodic voices. Junjie opened his eyes when he heard Lan Fan's name. He listened closely to the conversation. In the middle of the night he heard Margot Fontaine leave in a hurry. Instead of inquiring about the commotion the prince feigned sleep until he fell back into it. Junjie heard movement. He shut his eyes before either of them found him out. A door opened and shut. The one adjoining the rooms opened thereafter.

"Good morning," Madeleine said, soft and sweet.

Junjie fluttered his eyelashes before opening them. The singer sat on the pouffe beside the automail engineer's bed. Madeleine wore a silk robe over her nightgown. Rouge stained her lips from the night before. Her pillow transformed her curls to tousled waves.

"Feeling better?" Madame Rousseau queried.

"Much," Junjie replied with a courtly smile.

"If you like I will change your bandage. After you may go about your day."

"Very well," he responded.

"Trés bon."


Shu went off to decipher the newly acquired messages. Lady Xue retired to her parlor for a brief reprieve. Mei awaited Alphonse's return at a secret passageway Qiyin instructed them to use. The interim guard commander stood watch outside Master Hsu's office to afford the emperor time alone with his beloved. In a censer on the alkahestris's desk a block of juniper burned, purifying the air. Ling sat at Lan Fan's bedside. He glanced over at his friend in the other bed. Jin seemed sound asleep. The sight of his friend coughing blood earlier unsettled the emperor. Still, Mei said he'd be all right and Ling believed her. He saved his worry for Wei, though his well-being escaped his reach.

He couldn't fathom how things went so spectacularly wrong in such a short span of time. Exhaustion overwhelmed him. Ling's hands trembled. He felt light headed from lack of sustenance. If he weren't catatonic Wei would be here with his morning meal and a lecture on how he had to keep up his strength in this trying time.

In addition to a warm meal Ling could use a piping hot bath, along with a several hours of sleep. Nevertheless, the emperor kept watch over the woman who spent so much of her life standing sentinel over him.

Ling returned his attention to Lan Fan. Her hand rested atop the blanket palm up and fingers curled. Lan Fan breathing persisted albeit unsteadily. He preferred to think of her as asleep instead of unconscious, though the distinction provided little in the way of comfort. Ling knew this wasn't how Lan Fan slept. The woman he loved didn't slumber supine under smooth bedding. She curled over on her right side with her automail arm outstretched as if reaching for a weapon. The two times Lan Fan slept in his bed the covers became tangled from her tossing and turning. He discovered her restlessness relented when he wrapped his arm around her waist and curled up against her back. How she slipped so easily from his arms in the early hours of the morning he didn't know.

Are you slipping away from me now, Lady Bodyguard?

"Lan Fan," Ling whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't ask you to attend the party. I shouldn't have roped you into it with an order. I'll never give you another order if you obey this last one." He placed his palm over hers, curled his fingers beneath the back of her hand. "Don't leave me."

The door to the room opened without preamble. In walked Margot Fontaine. The automail surgeon had hair damp from a shower. As they dried her locks curled of their own accord. Droplets of water dotted the forest green blouse she neglected to tuck into her tan trousers. For the first time since he met her she wore flats instead of heels. Margot hadn't put on makeup today. Ling marveled at the galaxy of freckles mapped across her alabaster face. The pointillism pigment brought out her brown eyes.

"How did she do through the night?" Margot asked. She spared a glance at Jin but didn't inquire after him. Ling presumed Qiyin filled her in at the door.

"Mei said she's stable."

Margot grabbed the stethoscope laid across the top of her medical bag. Ling remained quite while she listened to Lan Fan's breathing and heartbeat. Once Margot moved on to her reflexes Ling spoke.

"When will she wake up?" Ling questioned.

Although he had his sister's assessment of Lan Fan's condition he wanted Margot's opinion.

"She'll wake up when she wakes up," Margot stated.

Frustrated by the noncommittal response the emperor huffed a sigh. The automail doctor gave him a withering look.

"Lan Fan suffered serious trauma. First from the blow to her head. Second from me drilling a hole into it. Her brain needs time to heal."

"But Lan Fan will wake up, won't she?" Ling pressed.

Margot held his gaze.

"I've never met anyone with more grit than this woman right here. As far as I know no one else has ever undergone automail surgery before the initial injury healed. Lan Fan recovered and rehabilitated in six months. The average amount of time it takes is three years. I have no doubt Lan Fan will wake up. So, show some patience and keep the faith, Emperor Charming."

The epithet of Emperor Charming didn't hold the same derision of Prince Charming. He didn't think he deserved the sympathy.

"This is my fault," Ling confessed.

Margot raised a brow in question.

"Lan Fan stormed off because I upset her. We had an argument and I didn't go after her. I didn't look for her. If I had just-" Ling clinched his teeth. He curled his free hand into a fist.

"Lan Fan won't blame you for this anymore than she blames you for arm," said Margot.

"But-"

"People argue. Accidents happen. Don't be a martyr."

Ling looked at her through the tears burning his tired eyes.

"But he's so good at it," Jin called from his bed.

Ling Yao laughed and tears trailed down his face. He wiped them away with the heel of his hand.

"You're feeling better I take it?" Ling addressed his friend.

"More or less," Jin coughed. "Nothing a bowl of soup won't fix. Speaking of food you'd better have eaten."

"I'm afraid my chef is unavailable."

The stable master sat up on the edge of his borrowed bed.

"No excuse. I'll get us something from the kitchen. Then we need to talk about what to do next, because you and Shu can't do anything without Lan Fan holding your hands."

"Hey now, is that any way to speak to your liege?"

"Probably not," Jin walked to the door and waved a hand. "I'll be back."

He exited the room without further ado.


Jin headed to the kitchen. Breathing no longer felt like inhaling cinders. Princess Chang did a serviceable job on his injured lungs, though he suspected he had a ways to go before he fully recovered. If not for the news about Wei the stable master would already be headed home to apologize to his wife and waylay her worries. As much as he wished to see his wife he determined to find out what happened to Wei.

He arrived to find the kitchen cordoned off by bodyguards. Asking permission to enter the kitchen was a non starter. Bags of rice propped open the doors to the kitchen. Jin spotted the sous chef at his station. Beside the man stood one of Lan Fan's physically intimidating subordinates.

"Huang," Jin called.

The sous chef looked up from his work. Jin lifted his hand to wave him over to the doorway.

"Comere."

Huang cleaned his hands on a dishcloth and walked over.

"What happened?" Jin cut to the chase.

"Someone attacked Wei last night. We're down to a skeleton crew. No one will tell us anything but the guards are breathing down our necks. The Dowager Empress ordered an alkahestris brought in, one of her own I think, to test all the food for poison before it heads out the door. Every server is escorted by a guard from kitchen to diner."

Lady Xue isn't playing around.

"Then I'll need an escort. I'm here to bring a meal to His Majesty," he declared.

Huang gave him a questioning look. Jin shrugged in response.

"Wait here."

"Don't forget His Majesty's appetite," Jin reminded him. He decided to steal some of Ling's breakfast instead of asking for one of his own. Better not to advertise he hadn't eaten at home.

Jin surveyed the room from his vantage point by the door. He didn't take to this work as readily as Shu or Wei but knew what to look for. At the pantry he did a double take. The floor there held a stain. An oddity in the ever immaculate kitchen. The staff circumvented the spot on the floor each time they crossed to the scullery sink.

Blood.

Enough of it to call Lady Xue's assurances into question. If he lost as much blood as the stain suggested Jin imagined his friend must be an absolute wreck.

He appreciated Lady Xue's sentiment but she was wrong. The people who best knew how to care for Wei were himself and Shu. The two of them need to get to him and soon. But first he needed to make sure Ling didn't collapse. Wei would want it that way.


Edward waited in the hallway while Master Hsu and Doctor Zhou conducted their examination of Wei. The two medical professionals emerged from the room. The alkahestris wore a grim expression. Master Hsu offered him a less than reassuring smile.

"I must return to the palace. Mr. Elric you're welcome to return with me. You've done more than enough."

"Thanks but I'll make my own way back," Ed declined.

"If you so choose. Doctor Zhou, please send word should there be any changes in his condition," Master Hsu offered a bow. Lian Zhou responded with a deeper bow in a show of respect.

"Of course."

"Is he still staring into space?" Ed asked as soon Master Hsu was out of earshot.

Waking up to find Wei with his eyes fixed to the ceiling and unresponsive disturbed the hell out of the theoretical alchemist.

"He remains unresponsive," Lian Zhou confirmed. The overnight attending's shift ended hours ago, yet he stayed of his own volition to monitor Wei's condition. Edward venerated his vigilance.

"What are you going to do to help him?" Ed wanted to know.

"Catatonic schizophrenia is difficult to treat. There are available therapies, but they aren't without risks. There's the so called "sleep cure" in which barbiturates are administered to induce sleep and facilitate rest; however, that course of treatment comes with the possibility of pneumonia and chemical dependency."

"You mean he could get addicted to the drugs?" Edward frowned in concern.

"It's highly likely."

"No way. That's insane. What else?"

"Electroshock therapy is used in severe cases of catatonia. Particularly prolonged, potentially life threatening episodes."

Edward scratched his nails along his scalp working out some if the tangles in the process. He didn't know enough about treating mental illness, but he knew trauma. Taking the tie off his wrist he pulled his hair into a ponytail and twisted the elastic around it. Ed heard a squeaky wheel and glanced down the hall. One of the nurses wheeled a shelved trolley with trays of food.

"He hasn't eaten breakfast right?"

"No, he hasn't," Lian answered.

"Before you start sedating or electrocuting him let me try to talk to him. He hasn't had anything to eat in at least eight hours Maybe he'll feel up to it after he has a decent meal."

"Hm," Doctor Zhou considered. "I don't see the harm it."

Edward didn't expect him to agree. Not without an argument.

"Seriously? Just like that?"

Lian Zhou stuck his pen in his lab coat pocket, tucked his patient's chart under his arm. He made a show of looking at his wrist watch.

"Visiting hours are in effect. I'm sure my patient could use a bit of company wouldn't you agree?" asked Doctor Zhou.

The theoretical alchemist smirked.

"Well, what do ya know. As a matter of fact I do agree," he concurred.

Lian Zhou strolled off down the hall.

"See you for evening rounds," the doctor offered by way of farewell.

Edward Elric took one of the breakfast trays with permission. The nurse offered him one for himself. The alchemist accepted with gratitude. Together, they took the breakfast trays into Wei's hospital room. The nurse set one on the table by the door; Edward put the other on the wheeled table by the bed.

"Thanks again," Ed bowed his head.

The nurse reciprocated and departed to resume her responsibilities.

Edward put his hands on his hips as he looked around the room. He put a palm on the wheeled stool and pushed it to the same side of the bed as the intravenous stand. Next he moved the table with Wei's breakfast. The tray held a covered bowl, a small teapot, handleless teacup, spoon and paper napkins.

"Time to rise and shine," Ed declared.

He pulled the covers to the foot of the bed. Wei wore the same hospital clothes Ed had on. On the intravenous stand above him hanged a bottle of saline. Careful not to disturb the I.V. port Edward sat him up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. In this state he reminded Ed of a doll. One of those poseable ones with articulation in the joints.

"I bet you're hungry," Ed made conversation even though he expected a one sided exchange. "Let's see what's for breakfast."

He lifted the lid off the bowl. Steam rose from the rice porridge. Considering it happened to be hospital food it smelled pretty good.

"Not bad. Trust me I've been in a lot of hospitals. Want to give it a try?" asked Edward.

The lack of response didn't discourage him. Picking up the bowl and spoon Ed took a seat on the stool. He stirred the mixture. Ed scooped a bit onto the spoon and scraped off the excess from the underside on the edge of the bowl.

Edward brought the spoon before his mouth. Wei neither opened his mouth to accept the bite, nor did he appear to notice the presence of the spoon at all. Ed placed the bowl back on the tray in order to open Wei's mouth a fraction. He slipped the spoon between his lips, depositing the rice porridge onto his tongue. A bit spilled from the corner of Wei's mouth. Ed put his hand under his chin to close his mouth. He grabbed a napkin to dab the porridge from his face. As he cleaned the mess he watched Wei's throat work.

The sign of a swallow counted as a success in his book. Edward got a second spoonful in his mouth without the mess this time. Ed refrained from praising him lest he come off as patronising.

"Halfway decent?" Ed questioned.

Wei didn't answer. He stared at nothing, expressionless. But at least he ate. Nutrition counted for a lot. Ed carried on the one sided conversation as he continued to spoon feed him.

"Master Hsu told me you're the emperor's personal chef. If Ling's room service bills are any indication he must keep you pretty busy."

Edward set aside the spoon to pour a cup of tea. He wrapped his hands around the cup to gage the temperature. Ed deemed it not too hot. He brought the cup to Wei's lips, holding a napkin under his chin in case he spilled, and helped him take a few mouthfuls of tea.

"Pretty good, huh? I should probably have my breakfast before it gets cold. Were you the one who made my breakfast yesterday? Fresh orange juice, sunny side up eggs, and chocolate croissant?"

Wei blinked once, twice. More of a response than he'd gotten so far. Ed ran with the topic.

"The croissant reminded me of the ones I got at the patisserie in Creta. I bet if you did a blind taste test anyone from Creta would think they were from home. The real hero though was that coffee."

Wei's eyes looked glossy. He blinked and tears dripped down his cheeks. Ed grabbed the last clean napkins. He swiped the tears from beneath his eyes.

"Do you like coffee?" asked Edward.

Wei sucked in a breath.

The traumatized chef pitched forward. He wept and wailed into the front of Ed's shirt. Edward Elric put his arm around Wei in a loose hold and let him cry.


Alphonse Elric headed to Liwei Zhang's estate alone. Qiyin provided Al with written directions from the palace to the estate. Along with directions the interim commander provided Alphonse with a set of his civilian clothes to better help him blend in. The hooded coat concealed the alchemist's golden hair and shadowed his features. The overcast sky warned of worsening winter weather. He arrived at the estate about the same time Lan Fan brought him here last.

They're probably sitting down to breakfast right now.

Lady Suyin welcomed him with a smile the last time he crashed their morning meal. He didn't look forward to seeing her expression when he told her the news. Alphonse let himself in through the unlocked gate. Inside Xiang's shiny red bicycle leaned against the wall. The alchemist headed up the walkway to the front door.

Alphonse took a deep breath before knocking on the wooden surface. Mei asked him to do this, but he didn't think he was the right man for the job. In fact Al thought this plan ill-advised. Lan Fan made it plain the day they met at the cafe that Xiang's ambition went against their mother's wishes.

The alchemist had a hard time saying no to the princess.

An elderly woman in a muted blue robe layered over a white one answered the door. Alphonse didn't recognize her from his last visit. He surmised she was a maid but bowed to her as if she was a noble woman. As Al straightened he pushed his hood back.

"Good morning. My name is Alphonse Elric. I'm here to see Lord and Lady Zhang on an important matter."

"Lady Lan Fan's alchemist friend from the west?"

"Yes, ma'am," Alphonse answered.

The elderly woman beckoned him inside. Alphonse removed his shoes at her bidding. In borrowed slippers he followed her from the foyer to the dining room. Unlike his last visit he heard no chatter from within the room.


No one spoke over breakfast.

Xiang picked at his plate of food. His mother made misery look pretty in her pink quju, while his father read the newspaper in between sips of tea. Liwei Zhang had color high in his cheeks, but refused to take his breakfast in bed. Whether or not anyone liked it they ate together as a family.

The household maid Miss Chen entered the dining room with a cursory bow.

"Milord, Mr. Alphonse Elric is here to speak with you."

Xiang lifted his head at the announcement. Over her shoulder he saw Alphonse standing in the hall. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the sight of his mother shifting in her seat.

"Mr. Elric? Of course, I will speak with him."

Miss Chen stepped aside to permit Alphonse's entry.

"Please brew a fresh pot of tea for our guest if you would," Suyin requested.

"Yes, milady."

"Alphonse, this is a surprise," Liwei greeted.

"Please forgive my intrusion," Alphonse bowed with respect.

Lord Zhang folded his paper and set it aside. Xiang noticed Alphonse wasn't wearing a suit. The lordling frowned at the sudden and unusual appearance of the alchemist. He set down his utensils and paid attention.

"You're quite welcome in our home, Alphonse," said Suyin.

"Please have a seat," his father gestured to the chair to the left of the head of the table.

Alphonse remained on his feet.

"I'm afraid I'm here on business."

"Is something the matter?" Liwei questioned.

"There's been an accident," Alphonse answered.

"Accident?"

Xiang heard the alarm in his mother's voice.

"Lan Fan had an accident," Al explained without explaining anything.

A metallic taste assaulted his tongue as adrenaline rushed into his bloodstream. Against the lacquered surface of the table his palms sweated. Xiang pushed himself to his feet. The dining room chair toppled to the floor behind him.

"What's happened to my sister?" Xiang asked.

Alphonse Elric grimaced.

"Lan Fan had an accident," he reiterated.

Suyin cut him off before he could continue.

"What sort of accident?"

"Let him finish," Liwei said.

"I don't know all the details. I'm told she hit her head and she hasn't woken up yet."

Lord Zhang rose from his seat at the head of the table.

"Please take us to her at once."