Ran Fan fiddled with the hair ornament that she'd inherited from her grandmother. She liked it; it was pretty, but...

She pulled her hair from the practical knot at the back of her head and began to comb it out.

The high laughter of a woman broke through the quiet of the end of the day.

She sometimes wished -she wouldn't admit it, but she did- that she could just be a girl. She'd grown up among men, wearing pants, not caring about her appearance, preferring anonymity to attention. She had never had the chance to wear dresses or makeup, or worry about her hair. She'd never gossiped and giggled with friends about boys, but she'd been gossiped about. "That girl, it just isn't proper, her being alone with the prince so much. I mean, really..." She had heard variations of this, and other more scandalous things, so many times, she stopped counting. She had no feminine charms. She was just the bodyguard.

Her hair was smooth now, as she changed into a white night shift. Slipping out her window, she nimbly climbed onto her roof.

Dangling her feet over the edge, she looked out over the grounds. The trees were putting out flowers, their delicate pink petals shyly emerging one by one. The trees nearest her window were nearly in full bloom. She breathed in the heady scent, enjoying the night air.

A flower fell into her lap, and she looked around. Ling stood behind her.

"Young Master!" she gasped, scrambling to her feet. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no." he waved her off, sitting down. When Ran Fan didn't sit, Ling grabbed her hand and pulled her down next to him. She drew her knees up to her chest, feeling immodest in only her shift.

A firefly drifted lazily by and they watched it go, Ran Fan inordinately interested in the creature.

Ling picked up the flower that had fallen from her lap twirling it between his fingers, then after a moment, returning it to her. She held it delicately, staring at intently.

"What about you?" He asked.

Ran Fan looked up. "Sorry, what?"

"What about you?" he repeated, turning to face her. "Is something wrong? You seem upset."

"No, I'm not upset, Young Master." she replied, not looking at him, afraid her face would give something away.

"But...?" Ling prompted. "Ran Fan, I know when something is bothering you."

"It's nothing to worry about, Master-"

"Ling."

"-Ling. Just a silly thought." she sighed.

"About what?"

Ran Fan looked at him shyly. "All the court ladies... are like... like beautiful flowers. Like this one." She waved the blossom in her hand. "And sometimes I want to be one of them. That's all," she finished lamely.

Ling looked at her strangely. "You... you want to me like them? Ran Fan, they're all the same. Sure, they're all pretty, but... look at the flowers on that tree." He pointed at the tree near them. "Would you be able to tell the difference between them, just looking at the tree?"

"No..."

"Now, imagine this," he took the hand that held the flower, "but made of steel. That's you. You're different, Ran Fan. Beautiful and deadly." He stopped, blushing. Ran Fan blushed twice as hard and slipped her hand from his. They sat awkwardly staring at each other for a moment, then Ran Fan broke eye contact and looked out across the yard again.

After several minutes of silence, Ran Fan stood. "...Ling, you should sleep."

He smiled at her. "You should too." He stood, patting her on the shoulder. "See you tomorrow, Ran Fan. Good night."

Ran Fan slipped back into her room and placed the blossom in a small bowl of water next to her.

Ran Fan woke and rolled over. The blossom had been replaced in the night by one made of steel. She touched the petals; they were sharp.

She smiled. A steel flower. She liked the sound of that.