by JC Kang
As if to emphasize the point, a porter bearing one of her ornately-carved rosewood boxes nearly ran into her. He sank to his knees, forehead touching the ground, almost dropping the box in his haste. Other servants followed suit, bowing abjectly.
She fought off the impulse to reassure the porter, since such displays would only embarrass him more.
Everyone was making such a big deal out of trivial matters. No, it was enough just to escape the stifling cabin that had been her home for a week at sea, to be out of the narrow confines of the ship.
“We have prepared a bath for you.” Bowing, the Mistress of Chambers invited Kaiya inside with an open hand. “I will take you there while the servants bring your train to your suite.”
A bath! It would have been her first order of business as well, had she set the itinerary herself. A chance to wash out a week of travel. Sea salt seemed to clog every pore. Worse was the awful stench of the filthy harbor and marketplace, which clung to her like a grimy second skin. She hid her enthusiasm as she followed the Mistress of Chambers through the foyer to a side door.
A short walk across a raised, covered walkway through an enclosed garden brought them to the embassy’s wooden bathhouse. Kaiya’s nose crinkled at the fresh varnish that made the wood gleam. Along with the manicured shrubs and combed white gravel, it was a clear sign the staff had prepared for an imperial visit. Her most faithful imperial guards, Chen Xin and Ma Jun, kept watch outside the door, while several others blocked the two access points to the courtyard and patrolled the perimeter.
A kneeling maid slid the door open, bowing low as Kaiya entered. Although the enormous soaking tub inside could tightly hold a dozen men at once—and probably did on busy evenings—the entire building had been cleared. Maids swarmed around to assist her. Waving them off, she sat on a stool outside the bathtub and scrubbed the salt out of her skin and hair until she glowed pink. She then stepped into the tub and sank into the steaming waters.
They warmed her to the core, chasing away the cold sea breezes that had lodged in her bones. To think it was already so chilly in early autumn! Why was she the one sent to this frigid wasteland to negotiate Cousin Kai-Long’s extradition?
Beyond the bathhouse walls, the imperial guards shared her complaint in low whispers. They should have known her keen ears would hear them.
“I could have sworn it was summer when we left Hua,” Chen Xin grumbled.
“And it will still be summer when we get back,” Ma Jun said cheerfully.
“Well, I can see my breath.”
“At least we will be able to see it coming before we have to smell it.”
Kaiya choked back a giggle. No one bantered with her like that.
“My breath doesn’t smell bad,” Chen Xin said.
“Compared to this city, no. It is cold, but at least you’re not posted here like the embassy staff. We get to go home soon enough.” Ma Jun could always see the bright side of things.
“Yes, but who knows where they will send us next? The last trip almost got us killed.”
“You got to see a real dragon...the last one in all of Tivaralan.”
“We were almost his dinner. And I suppose getting diced up by the Maduran Scorpions is your idea of adventure?” Chen Xin was no longer complaining as much as bragging.
“Well, as the classics say, Travel is worth more than a thousand books in cultivating wisdom.”
“If you survive...”
Kaiya smiled. Oh, to have a deep camaraderie like those two enjoyed. Like the one she and Tian once shared. Playing the Dragon Scale Lute almost three years ago had changed everything, burdened her with unwanted responsibilities in the imperial court. Vanquishing Avarax with a song had elevated her to legend. Nobody could relate to that, and now her closest confidante was an impertinent half-elf whose idea of opening a heart was more literal than figurative.
With a sigh, Kaiya sprawled out in the tub, sinking beneath the water. Her hair floated on the surface, filtering light from the baubles on the ceiling. In the three hundred years of the Wang Dynasty, the Founder’s consort—who had reigned as Dowager Regent for eight decades—was the only woman who had played a more important role in the Hua court. She must have felt so isolated.
Kaiya emerged to catch a breath, brushing hair and water out of her face while affording herself a moment to daydream about the dashing Tai-Ming heir who’d been courting her. She’d rejected a dozen suitors before him, but his quick wit and charm made her entire body tingle. A delightful fluttering erupted in her stomach. Maybe after marriage, people would forget about the Dragon Charmer, and life would regain a semblance of normalcy. Maybe it wouldn’t feel so...lonely.
Quickly banishing these thoughts, Kaiya mused over her reunion with Zheng Tian. Despite the assurances that he had become a magnificent swordsman, he seemed just as adorably awkward as ever. His puppy-dog reaction to her smile! Just like when they were children. Apparently, the right facial expression or gesture could still evoke his response. A laugh escaped her, but she covered her mouth. If the guards heard her outburst...
A maid opened the doors and shuffled in, head bowed and eyes averted. She presented a towel with both hands. “Dian-xia. Zhuyue waxes to half. The reception is at the second gibbous.”
Sighing, Kaiya reluctantly left the waters’ warm embrace. She stepped out of the tub and into the open towel, again fighting off a maid and wrapping herself. Perhaps other Hua nobles expected servants to do all the work of washing and dressing them. After a particularly insolent retainer had admonished her, Kaiya took more responsibility for herself.
Barefooted, she glided across the room and to a private changing area. While maids fussed at drying her hair, she donned a simple white silk robe and draped a heavy fur shawl over her shoulders. She slid her feet into fur-lined sandals. Kneeling maids opened the sliding doors.
Kaiya stepped out and tasted the brisk night air with a deep breath. The iridescent moon Zhuyue floated a little more south from its usual position, waxing halfway towards its first gibbous. There was only an hour and a half until the reception for the senior embassy staff and prominent Hua families living in Iksuvius.
Her nose wrinkled at her imperial guards’ odor. To think she must have smelled just as bad just half an hour before. She shuddered. “Ma Jun, Chen Xin, be sure to bathe before the banquet.”
Both guards dropped to their right knee, heads bowed. “As the princess commands,” they both bellowed.
Satisfied, Kaiya nodded and strolled down the walkway, handmaidens in tow. The other half-dozen imperial guards fell in behind her, keeping a respectful distance.
A shallow breathing hid in the muffled sounds of the city, buried among the quiet footsteps and swishing robes of her maids and guards.
Kaiya paused mid-stride and raised a hand, signaling all to stop. The guards behind her placed their hands on their dao and deployed into defensive positions around her.
“Jie,” Kaiya said.
The Insolent Retainer melted out of the shadows and dropped to her right knee, right fist to the ground. “Dian-xia. As always, I am amazed that you can hear me.”
Kaiya covered her laugh with a hand. The half-elf’s straightforward nature and witty banter were always endearing. No one else dared speak freely to her. “Maybe I just guessed you would be lurking the halls. Either way, I am pleased to see you again.”
“Me too.” Jie rose to her feet at Kaiya’s hand gesture and followed her down the walk and through the side door into the embassy. The guards again fell in behind.
“So,” Kaiya said. “You have already been here a month. What are your impressions?”
“The people are big and standoffish,” Jie said. “The level of poverty crushes their collective soul. It is amazing that the nation has not collapsed under the weight of civil disorder.”
Kaiya sighed. “It does not sound like a very hospitable place. The sooner we are done negotiating with the Nothori Kings and their dreadful Teleri masters, the sooner we can
leave this land. You have made security arrangements?”
“Yes, Dian-xia,” Jie said as they arrived at the foyer’s grand staircase. “Taking your itinerary into account, I have selected the safest routes and ensured that the Moquan will be watching for potential threats. Zheng Tian has been helpful in organizing them.”
“Tian.” Kaiya tasted the name and decided it was the flavor of nostalgia. “What do you think of him?”
The usually quick-witted half-elf was unusually slow to respond. Within those three seconds of silence, the average Moquan could probably plan the invasion of a small country. When Jie finally answered, her tone carried forced objectivity. “He has an exceptional grasp of the situation here. He sees connections between seemingly unrelated pieces of information. You will find his insight and advice invaluable.”
“Yes.” Kaiya covered her laugh with her fingers, deciding to test her theory. “But what do you think about him? You have not seen Tian for three years. I have not seen him for ten. But he has hardly changed at all. Still awkward, despite his good looks.”
Even if Jie did not betray an emotion in her expression, she was again uncharacteristically quiet for a few seconds. “There’s a lot going on in his head, all the time.”
A hint of defensiveness floated in the answer. Could Jie actually have affections for a boy? That boy? How could such a pretty and talented girl fall for a boy so...Tian? Kaiya rubbed his pebble. No, Tian was a man. Not the gullible ten-year-old, despite initial impressions. Though surely, he’d always be the reliable ear to keep her secrets and a solid shoulder to lean against.
Jie’s ears twitched. Outside, bird calls rang out. Fake bird calls.
CHAPTER 5:
Things That Go Bump
In The Night
From Tian’s vantage point on his office balcony, the marketplace in the near distance appeared an oasis of light in a desert of dull grey, lit by Aksumi glass baubles brought by the citizens socializing there. The nearly-full white moon Renyue blanketed the city in dim light, while the larger blue moon Guanyin’s Eye was almost closed.
Muted sounds of laughter diffused from the market and filled the otherwise empty city streets. Farther out, individual lights from fishing boats bobbed in the harbor, like fireflies dancing in Hua’s gardens at midsummer.
He and seven-year-old Princess Kaiya had once caught fireflies in one of the many gardens of Sun-Moon Palace. It seemed like a lifetime ago; a time of innocence, before the realities of duty and responsibility took over.
Tian looked up and south to find the iridescent moon in its usual place, swirling in translucent pinks and purples like an opaque soap bubble. It waxed towards its first gibbous. Just an hour remained until the reception. With so little time, he returned to the office to ponder his convoluted web of information.
Just as he was about to pin a note about the strange boy, the annoying squawks of peacocks erupted in the courtyard below. The fake caw, a Moquan code indicating an intruder, repeated twice from different parts of the compound. Old Tong and Shun.
The little hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. An intruder, just when the princess arrived, couldn’t be a coincidence. Sheathed sword in hand, he slipped out onto the balcony. A quick search along the perimeter revealed nothing. Perhaps it was related to the young man in the alley a couple hours earlier.
At a spot near the middle of the western wall, two drunken Nothori ruffians argued, loud enough to scare ghosts away. At the top of the wall, half a dozen Hua musketmen pointed and laughed.
The lack of discipline! Especially with the princess visiting. Tian clenched his jaw as he raked his gaze back and forth over the grounds. Maids and servants hurried about, preparing for the reception. Beyond his line of sight, a caller announced the names of prominent Hua families at the main gate.
Young Cheng’s bird call shrieked from the north, then Pockmarked Zu’s answered from the east. Intruders. At least three. Any could be a threat to the princess. Tian’s hands clenched. He started to leap down into the courtyard, but paused with a leg over the railing. Something didn’t add up.
Ducking back into his office, he closed the door and locked it behind him. He shuttered the Aksumi light-bauble lamp. The room blinked into dim darkness, with only the feeble rays of Guanyin’s Eye filtering in through the window. Tian sank into a crouch in the darkest shadow of the southwest corner.
Settling his gaze without focus on the middle of the room, his field of vision encompassed the entire space. His right hand rested on the wooden floors, while another pressed against the wall to feel for the vibrations of someone’s approach. His hearing reached out beyond the floors and walls and ceilings.
The sounds above and below suggested nothing out of the ordinary, beyond preparations for the princess’ reception. On this level, a large group climbed the central stairs and then passed through the east corridor, heading south. It was likely the princess and her retinue heading to her spacious quarters, oblivious to potential danger.
Outside where the Nothori ruffians had been arguing, the ruckus increased. Embassy guards yelled at them to quiet down and leave. Yet hidden in the commotion was a faint new sound just outside his balcony, the unmistakable scraping of the cat-claws the Moquan used to scale walls. Tian’s heart squeezed. His own men wouldn’t come up the walls like that, not without announcing themselves.
Feet landed on the balcony with almost inaudible sound, followed by the indistinct clicks of the door lock being picked. None of his men would do that. Every nerve stood on edge as Tian gripped his sword.
A blink of light and shadows under the threshold of his hallway door broke his concentration. Just outside, Princess Kaiya's unmistakable voice spoke in muffled whispers. What was she doing here? Right when a possible attacker was nearby, no less.
Both doors simultaneously opened.
At the balcony, the intruder stood taller and broader than any of Tian’s spies. Dressed all in black and wearing a hooded mask, the man remained at the half-open door, surveying.
In the same second, the princess glided into the room, light from the hall flooding in.
Tian vaulted through gaps in the twine, simultaneously flicking three biao throwing stars behind him.
The biao arced between the strings and whistled through the space of the closing balcony door. Behind him, a youth’s muffled shriek pierced the night. Tian hit the ground shoulder first, rolled, and sprang again through more openings in the twine. On his descent, he tackled the princess, shoving her back into the hall. He twisted to soften her fall, so that she landed on top of him.
Six dao rasped from scabbards as the imperial guards closed on him. He ignored them, signaling instead to Jie who slunk behind the princess’ group. Intruder, balcony.
Jie responded even before he’d finished. She charged into the office and swam through the web of twine with effortless dexterity. And then she was out of his line of sight. The balcony door crashed open, followed by a loud thud. Then silence.
Tian’s stomach clenched as he craned his neck to see through the Cobweb. Had Jie taken care of the intruder? Or had he—
Hands pressed against his chest. He looked up. A beautiful woman lay on top of him. Wearing only a silk inner gown. His arms were wrapped protectively around her. Her warmth and fragrance and softness smothered him. His armor of martial and mental training failed.
She was trying to push herself off of him. Five, now six, of the realm’s deadliest swordsmen pointed the sharpest swords in the world at him.
“Unhand the princess,” snarled one, the belligerent, flat-knuckled guard from the Wailian battle.
“Let go of me!” the princess panted, her face flushed, regal bearing lost in her panic. She took a deep breath. When she spoke again, it was with the imperial tone of command. “Zheng Tian, release me.”
The confident voice woke Tian from his own state of shock. Heat rose to his face. He’d just touched a member of the Imperial Family. Ended in a compromising position, no less. Such a
trespass, even to protect her, might invite a death sentence.
He let go.
With a sharp push on his chest, the princess extricated herself. Her luxurious locks cascaded over her face as she staggered to her feet and stumbled back. She tightened her gown around herself and brushed the errant hair away, revealing a flushed face and glinting eyes. In that moment, she seemed less like the elegant princess and more like the child he remembered.
An imperial guard charged, dao raised.
Tian sprang to his feet with a windmill kick, just before the sword came down. He sidestepped the follow-up thrust, caught the guard’s wrist, and twisted. As the man’s grip loosened, Tian plucked the blade free. In the same motion, he wrapped up the guard’s elbow into a lock and started to slash his throat. He stopped himself. Heavens, his automatic reactions almost killed one of Princess Kaiya’s personal guards.
The other guards closed in around him, naked blades held in defensive positions. He was skilled enough with the sword to confront one of the vaunted imperial guards in a fair fight; but had very little chance against five, regardless of what underhanded tactics he might use. Even now, the magical aura of intimidation from their breastplates sent his heart racing.
“Stop,” the princess said, her voice shaking. She stared, her gape one of shock and horror.
He dropped the sword and released his hostage.
CHAPTER 6:
Plots Unraveled
Jie had finished binding the intruder on the balcony when she heard the sounds of warriors assuming fighting stances in the hallway.
Imperial guards, always late. She twisted through the Cobweb, coming back to the hall.
Her jaw slackened. Five of the princess’ personal imperial guards—whom she had come to appreciate, despite any jokes she made at their expense—surrounded Tian with naked blades. Face red, Xu Zhan was climbing to his feet. Princess Kaiya stood near the wall, gown clutched tightly around her, tears glistening in her eyes.