Ling seethed with anger. The scratches on his cheek stung. He drew his handkerchief from his coat pocket and pressed it to the side of his face. Blood blotted the clean cloth.

Lady Suyin sobbed so hard she couldn't catch her breath. She clinged to her son like a near-drowning victim. Her knees buckled. Xiang kept her upright with his arms around her waist. The bodyguard bolted into the room. Behind him Lord Liwei followed. The emperor held up his hand to halt any action on the part of his guard.

From the corner of his eye Ling caught movement. Margot dug through her doctor's bag until she found a fresh hypodermic needle and a glass bottle containing a liquid. In short order, she drew a dose of the medication into the syringe, dispensed a miniscule amount into the air to remove any bubbles, and moved across the room to Suyin.

"It's okay. Everything is going to be okay," Margot assured. "I'm going to give you something to help you calm down."

She continued to cry as Margot administered the medication into her arm. Slowly, Suyin's sobbing subsided and she slumped against her son. He scooped his semiconscious mother up into his arms.

"What was that?" Xiang asked, anxiously.

"Two CCs of pentobarbital," The automail doctor explained.

Liwei inquired, "Was that warranted?"

"Your wife was hyperventilating," Margot replied.

"Please don't punish her," Xiang begged of the emperor.

The young lord looked and sounded so much like his sister. He reminded Ling of Lan Fan after the battle on The Promised Day, begging him not to punish the other clans once he ascended to the throne.

The emperor averted his gaze.

It hurt too much to look at him.

"I have no interest in punishing a grief stricken parent," he proclaimed.

As the emperor advanced to the door those in the room parted the way.

In the hallway, he addressed Alphonse and Mei.

"If you would please see to it Lord and Lady Zhang make their way home safely. Handle things with Xiang, as well," he instructed.

Mei gasped at the sight of his face.

Ling didn't give her time to comment.

He departed for the Imperial Wing without so much as a backward glance.


In the privacy of his rooms the emperor divested himself of his tailcoat. He threw his coat fitfully onto the floor. Ling rid himself of his waistcoat and dress shirt as well. He stood before the looking glass hanging on the wall over a table with a basin, bar of sandalwood soap in a dish, and pitcher of fresh water.

Ling poured water into the basin. He scooped water into his cupped hands and splashed his face. Methodically, he lathered the soap between his hands and washed his face. Scrubbing at the scratches hurt, but he did it anyway. He rinsed the suds from his skin and stared at his reflection.

The four long scratches on his left cheek looked worse than they felt. Conversely, the emperor felt worse than he looked. Considering the purplish skin beneath his hollow eyes and haggard countenance that said something. He slammed his fist into the looking glass. The surface of the mirror spiderwebbed.

Qiyin Gao entered the room without knocking.

"Get out," Ling grit his teeth.

"Your Majesty, this one humbly begs you to refrain from harming yourself," the interim commander requested in concern.

Ling grabbed the dish, soap and all, and flung it at the wall to the right of his head. The porcelain shattered and the soap bounced off the wall onto the floor. The bodyguard didn't even flinch. He pushed back his hood and pulled off his mask. For the first time all morning, the emperor saw the exhaustion written on the face of his bodyguard. He looked too tired to put up with the petulance of his charge.

"What would you have me do, my lord?" Qiyin questioned.

Ling looked down at his hand. The combination of the impact and embedded slivers of glass split his knuckles. Not so long ago he'd chastised Lan Fan for causing herself a similar injury. He felt ashamed of himself.

"Forgive me for the offense," he mumbled. "If you would."

Qiyin inclined his head.

"Shall I have Princess Mei see to your hand, sire?"

Ling shook his head. He said, "It isn't that bad."

The emperor picked the slivers from his oozing knuckles. The bodyguard started to pick up the shards of the soap dish.

"I'll clean up the mess. I'm the one who made it in the first place.

Ling submersed his hand in the soapy water within the basin. He hissed at the stinging sensation in the superficial cuts. Blood permeated the murky mixture like red algae in bloom.

"As you wish. You should get some sleep, Your Majesty," the servant suggested.

Ling looked at his bodyguard in the broken mirror. He offered him a hint of a smile, "I should say the same to you."

"In due time," Qiyin responded and returned to his post in the hall.

The emperor rinsed clear water over his hand. He fetch a handkerchief from his wardrobe and wrapped it around his hand as a makeshift bandage. Being careful not to cut himself further he cleaned up the mess he made in his fit of rage.

Ling sat on the end of his bed to remove his oxfords and socks. Finally, he took off his trousers and collapsed into the covers. He pulled a pillow from the pile, rolled onto his front, and laid the right side of his face on the fabric. The emperor realized the servants hadn't changed the linens since yesterday. The pillowcase still smelled like Lan Fan's hair. He sat up and covered his eyes. Tears trail down his cheeks.

The scratches stung all over again.


Alphonse Elric chalked an array on the workbench in the blacksmith shop, while Shu gathered up sufficient steel and leather. Lan Fan's automail laid lifelessly on the table. The alchemist smuggled the bodyguard's arm here for reference. Al deliberated on whether or not to include the concealed blade in the replica. It added to the authenticity, but increased the likelihood of Xiang accidentally injuring himself or someone else.

In the end he decided to include the blade against his better judgement. Instead of imitating the trigger exactly he decided to add a safety to avoid accidental deployment of the weapon. Alphonse wished his brother was here. He didn't need his help devising the transmutation circle, but this sort of thing was in Edward's wheelhouse. The apprentice alkahestris would've liked to bounce ideas off his brother.

Instead, he had only the blacksmith to consult.

"What's the hold up?" asked the blacksmith.

A cigarette burning between his lips.

"Would you mind putting that out please?" Al asked.

Alphonse Elric tolerated Lieutenant Havoc's habit on the occasions he visited Roy's team, but if he was being honest he found the smell of cigarette smoke offensive. Furthermore, the alchemist didn't hold Shu in high enough regard to put up with it. Shu rubbed Alphonse the wrong way. Shu shrugged like he didn't care and put the cigarette out on the edge of the table.

"Thank you," Alphonse offered him a tight smile.

"Are you always this uptight?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Sure you don't," Shu drolled.

The alchemist ignored him in favor of examining his array. He nodded in satisfaction. It should do the trick. Alphonse arranged the scraps of steel and leather in the center of the circle. The alchemist touched his hands to the array. The transmutation circle crackled to life with bolts of lightning blue alchemic energy. Inside the circle the ingredients twisted themselves into the shape Alphonse envisioned.

The light diminished.

In the middle of the table set a seemingly identical automail arm minus all the interior workings. The inside of the arm length gauntlet he lined with soft, supple leather. In the process Alphonse also created a buckled strap to secure the contraption across Xiang's chest. The leather of the strap he constructed with strength in mind. He kept the side that would lay against the young man's skin as close to the texture of kid leather as he could.

It wouldn't due for the harness to rub his skin raw. If Xiang couldn't wear the gauntlet for hours on end without irritation it wouldn't be any good to them. Alphonse worried about the weight a bit. Hopefully, Lan Fan would wake before Xiang had time to become accustomed to it. He hoped she'd forgive him for his involvement.

Shu whistled in appreciation. The blacksmith picked up the gauntlet without asking permission. Alphonse checked his temper. At least the man handled the armor with care. He did well to avoid triggering the concealed blade. Shu set the replica arm next to the automail arm, put his hands on his hips, and tilted his head in examination.

"I couldn't have done better myself," Shu declared.

Alphonse accepted the compliment, "Thank you."

While Shu wrapped the automail and gauntlet up in butcher paper and tied it with twine, Alphonse wiped away the traces of the transmutation circle. The blacksmith laid the package across Al's arms.

"I appreciate your help," Al looked him in the eye.

Shu waved away his gratitude.

He seemed sincere.

Alphonse Elric didn't trust him.


Xiang Zhang sat beside his sister's bed. He didn't know what to do. Alphonse Elric escorted his parents from the palace an hour ago. He hadn't had a chance to talk to his mother. Lady Suyin was in no shape to have a conversation. Xiang worried for her wellbeing. The young lord had never seen his ladylike mother haul off on someone.

"Ms. Margot?"

"Hm?"

The automail engineer stood at the sink sterilizing her medical instruments.

"Is there anything I should do?" Xiang asked.

Margot looked at him sidelong. She considered, and said, "I think you should save your strength."

A rap sounded on the secured door. Xiang stood up quickly. The doctor pulled the curtain around the bed to hide Xiang and Lan Fan from view before answering the door. The newly appointed bodyguard held his breath. He wasn't supposed to be here, after all.

"About time you came back," Margot's voice dripped derision.

"There's no need to speak to me in that tone."

Xiang didn't recognize the voice, but it sounded like it belonged to an elderly man. He heard the turning of the lock. A second later the automail engineer pulled back the curtain. Xiang laid eyes on a wizened man in sleeping robes. The alkahestris regarded him with a quizzical expression.

"You must be Commander Liu's baby brother," the elderly gentleman said.

Xiang bristled a bit at being referred to as 'baby brother.' Regardless, the young lord bowed respectfully to the elder. He noticed Ms. Fontaine's decidedly dismissive attitude toward the man.

"Yes, sir," Xiang responded.

"I'm Master Hsu. Lan Fan speaks fondly of you. How is our patient?" Master Hsu inquired of Ms. Fontaine.

"My patient is in stable condition," Margot asserted.

"I'm pleased to hear it. Her prognosis?" The alkahestris inquired further.

The automail doctor crossed her arms over her chest.

"The patient's automatic functions are intact. Her pupils are responsive to light. She shows no signs of spinal damage."

"And signs of brain activity?"

Xiang didn't like the clinical way they were speaking about his sister. He demanded, "Stop calling her the patient. Her name is Lan Fan."

"My apologies," Master Hsu said.

"Lan Fan is comatose," Margot answered.

"I see," he looked at Lan Fan. "If you'll excuse me I should really myself decent."

The alkahestris headed for the room off the examination area.

"Hey," Margot called after him. "The emperor doesn't want this getting around."

Master Hsu gave her a withering look.

"You are not the only one here to take an oath," he said, offended by the implication he'd divulge the information. "Excuse me."

The alkahestris shut the door soundly behind him.


Mei Chang stealthed into Lan Fan's room sight unseen. The princess hadn't been here before. The state of the bodyguard's room surprised her. Mei had no idea Lan Fan could be so messy. Of course, Mei's own rooms were much messier, but she expected Lan Fan's space to be clean by military regulation standards. Princess Mei removed her rucksack from her back.

Setting the bag down on the unmade bed she opened the wardrobe. There she found another surprise. Lan Fan had a number of pretty frocks. Mei wondered if she wore them on her days off. Most of them looked brand new. The only ones that seemed to have wear were a collection of cheongsam in black with delicate embroidery along the hems.

And all of sudden Mei's mission to collect Lan Fan's armor and one of her uniforms felt like an invasion of privacy. Though the princess considered the bodyguard a friend she realized she didn't know much about Lan Fan beyond her bravery. The princess took one of the uniforms off its hanger and picked up a pair of boots. Mei put the boots at the bottom of the bag to keep the uniform clean.

The Seventeenth Royal Princess removed the armor from the stand in the corner of the room. Commander Liu's armor weighed more than she thought, but no more than Mei could handle. The alkahestris added the armor to the rucksack. Then she realized she'd almost forgotten Lan Fan's mask. Mei glanced around the room. She spied a stack of fashion catalogues.

Another piece of the puzzle that was Lan Fan Liu.

The alkahestris discovered the yin mask on the vanity next to a hair comb. Princess Mei left the rest of the items on the table untouched. She decided to endeavor to become proper friends with Lan Fan. It made sense that they should be friends. Ling was so in love with Lan Fan it was a little pathetic.

Lan Fan was important to Ling.

That made her important to Mei.