at the edge of longmen falls - Anonymous - 醉玲珑 (2025)

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

"I'm most worried about the situation along the foothills." Si-ge taps his finger on the map spread open on the table in front of the emperor. "After the floods last summer took out the bridge here—" his finger drags a line to a bend in the river "—it will take reinforcements from the west an extra two days to arrive if there's any conflict."

The emperor frowns at the map. "I see. And the ford upstream?"

"Usable in the winter and early spring, but one good rain and the river is too fast to risk. I've brought a report on the bridge's foundations that remain—" Si-ge holds out his hand to Yuan Che, who passes him the relevant scroll to be presented to their father. The emperor looms over them on his raised dais, sitting behind a writing table already strewn with a variety of maps and reports. He unrolls the new scroll and considers it, frowning.

Si-ge continues, "From the reports that have arrived regarding the Liang force's recent movements, I don't believe they're aware of the destruction of the bridge..."

Yuan Che's mind wanders away from the conversation; he already knows all this as he was the one who prepared the reports for Si-ge in the first place. With only a small thread of attention on Si-ge and his father's discussion, the rest of Yuan Che's mind turns to running calculations for the year's budget after the unplanned expenditure on Si-ge's hospital renovations. If he focuses hard enough on the numbers maybe he can take his mind off of the way his ass is aching from sitting like this for so long—

Yuan Che shifts minutely on the cushion where he's kneeling and fights back a wince. It's been several days since the emperor had them all beaten for starting a brawl in the palace gardens and his bruises still haven't faded completely. Yuan Li had really skimped on the healing ointment; he shouldn't have tended to him first and used up so much!

"Shiyi."

Yuan Che's focus snaps back to the present at the emperor's sudden address. He quickly raises his arms and bows over them.

"Yes, father?"

"Attend the formal court session this afternoon," his father orders. "I have an announcement that concerns you and your marriage."

"My—my what?" Yuan Che stares wide-eyed up at his father. How could his father have anything to say about his marriage unless—surely the A'chai princess hasn't transferred her sights from Si-ge to HIM of all people? Or had Caiqian decided to withdraw from Si-ge's princess-consort selection contest and—

"This afternoon your betrothal to Long Feiye, Prince Qin of Tian'ning, will be officially announced."

Yuan Che's thoughts scatter as though a stone wall has popped up and his mind has run into it at full speed.

"Tian—Tian'ning? PRINCE??" Yuan Che tries to rearrange his father's words into some configuration that makes sense. He can't.

"Yes." The emperor's expression darkens as he leans forward to stare down at Yuan Che. "The official betrothal announcement will be made this afternoon, and you will depart for Tian'ning three days from now."

"But—but Caiqian—" Yuan Che stammers. Too shocked to organize his thoughts, he turns beseechingly to Si-ge who avoids catching his eye.

The emperor barks out a short laugh. "Who do you think proposed this marriage alliance with Tian'ning? Lao Si has been hard at work arranging this union for months."

Yuan Che stares in shock and betrayal at Si-ge who is still gazing firmly into the distance over their father's shoulder.

"But I can't leave Dawei!" Yuan Che protests. "Not now! Please, Father—"

He begins to raise his arms to beg his father to reconsider, but the emperor's expression darkens with anger and he slams a fist down on the writing table before him.

"I have made my decision!" The roar makes Yuan Che flinch back and even Si-ge lowers his eyes. "I had expected my sons to be obedient and filial—but if I need to have you beaten in the courtyard like an unruly child again to remind you what is expected of you, so be it!"

"Fath—"

"Dismissed! I WILL see you at the court session this afternoon. With a more appropriate attitude!" He rolls the command and threat into one angry bark.

Yuan Che holds his tongue until they're far enough away across the courtyard to be out of earshot and then grabs Si-ge's sleeve, dragging him to a halt.

"Si-ge, please, you have to help. Help me convince Father to cancel the engagement."

Yuan Ling sighs, pulling his robes out of Yuan Che's clutching hands and patting him on the shoulder instead. "Shiyi-di..." he trails off. Yuan Che's heart sinks.

"Is it true?" he asks, the overwhelming feeling of betrayal leaking into his voice. "What Father said—was it really you who suggested this? Who organized it?"

He doesn't want to believe it. How could Si-ge do this, arrange everything without letting him know? When in the past they didn't keep any secrets from each other—well, at least Yuan Che didn't and he thought Si-ge didn't either. Not about important things like this, at least. They plan and organize all their schemes together, he is his brother's right hand man, his most trusted assistant, his unfailingly loyal follower who knows him better than anyone! Because he knows his brother so well Yuan Che can see from his face that it's true; his father had been speaking honestly. Si-ge really had proposed and organized this all behind Yuan Che's back.

"Si-ge, I CAN'T leave Dawei. I can't leave YOU. Not now, in the middle of everything!" Yuan Che protests. Surely Si-ge knows how crucial Yuan Che's presence is, especially now with the Liang threat looming and Si-ge's determination to fight his way to prominence among all their father's heirs. Si-ge sighs.

"Shiyi-di, I need this. DAWEI needs this," he says, bringing a hand up to squeeze Yuan Che's shoulder. "You know first-hand the threats to our borders, and since I can't marry the A'chai princess, we have no choice but to seek other outside alliances. Tian'ning is perfectly positioned to send troops to our aid through the Baishan Pass if the Liang attack Dawei's western border."

"But I can't do anything to help you from Tian'ning!" Yuan Che protests, hearing the words come out high and plaintive through a throat tight with emotion. "All my networks are here, in Dawei! And if I'm gone, who will take care of gathering information and preparing reports or—" he scrambles for more arguments "—or the accounting for your manor!"

Yuan Ling meets Yuan Che's eyes seriously and gives him a small shake. "Shiyi, don't be ridiculous; anyone can do the accounting."

Yuan Che bites lip hard against protest that, no, actually anyone can't do the accounting—as evidenced by the fact that Yuan Ling's mansion is constantly out of funds unless Yuan Che meddles and fixes things.

"But only YOU can marry the Tian'ning prince," Si-ge continues, ignoring Yuan Che's pleading gaze. "The Tian'ning emperor refused to consider a marriage alliance with a woman, and who else could I send—Yuan Li?? We want to make an ally, not an enemy." Si-ge laughs and smiles at him, but Yuan Che can't share the joke, not when it feels like his world is crumbling to pieces and his Si-ge doesn't even care.

"It won't be so bad," Si-ge says so simply, because of course HE's not the one who has to leave his home and family. "Tian'ning is just a fortnight of travel away; after you've settled into your marriage and Dawei's future is more secure—" after he's secured his place as their father's heir apparent and ensured his path to the throne, Yuan Che thinks "—you'll be able to visit. It shouldn't take more than a year or two." Yuan Che wants to cry at the prospect of not seeing any of his family or friends for two years.

"I would have thought you'd be happy about this news," Si-ge continues. When Yuan Che gives him a look of disbelief he rolls his eyes. "Don't pretend you're actually interested in marrying a woman, Shiyi. I know you better than that."

Yuan Che wants to protest that there's a world of difference between a marriage to someone he's attracted to and being banished from his home to marry someone who just so happens to be a man. He'd rather stay in Dawei and marry Caiqian.

"You're the only one who can do this, Shiyi," Yuan Ling says. He drops his hand on the back of Yuan Che's neck and squeezes. In the past it had always felt grounding and comforting. Now it just feels suffocating.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Yuan Che attends the formal court session that afternoon in low spirits, resigned to the fact that Si-ge won't plead on his behalf, and his father won't change his mind.

When summoned, he prostrates himself fully before rising to his knees to receive the scroll with the imperial edict of his betrothal. The official announcement of his future marriage washes over him like he's underwater, followed by a few low mutters of surprise from the crowd of gathered ministers and other figures in attendance.

Yuan Che bows his head and stands, consumed by the fleeting wish that someone would leap from the crowd, shout that he can't go—that his brothers would suddenly unite and beg their father together, their combined forces surely enough to change his mind...

But his brothers stand stone-faced (Si-ge), uninterested (Da-ge), vaguely pitying (San-ge), calculating (Qi-ge), and even Yuan Li's face is swiftly changing from shocked to thoughtful.

Yuan Che returns to his place among them and stands woodenly through the rest of the court session, knuckles white where he grips the scroll that has irrevocably changed his future.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

The following three days are a hectic attempt to pack up Yuan Che's entire life, organize all his information networks to continue operation in his absence, and delegate his accounts and investments to trustworthy caretakers.

Dealing with his manor is easy; he barely lives there anyway since he stays with Si-ge when they're both in the capital, and his own manor is used to standing empty for extended periods of time. Even though it doesn't feel like "home" and he won't miss it, it is reassuring to know that there's a place in Dawei waiting for him should he—no, WHEN he—returns to visit in the future.

The news that Yuan Ming will be the one accompanying him and several ministers of trade to Tian'ning and representing Dawei at the wedding is an unwelcome surprise. The only one less pleased by the news than Yuan Che is Jiu-ge himself, and Yuan Che hears several pieces of gossip about Jiu-ge's reaction to the orders including his complaints about being "banished" from Dawei for over a month, and being forced to act as a "delivery boy."

Yuan Che's sympathy is limited, especially because Jiu-ge won't be the one staying permanently in Tian'ning. To make matters worse, Yuan Che won't be accompanied by any familiar attendants or guards except Yi Huai—who would accompany him into hell if it were an option. The rest of their party is made up of stuffy court officials and ministers that Yuan Che isn't familiar with, and even the guards in their escort are from the palace rather than the Black Armor army that Yuan Che knows well.

He just wishes Si-ge were going with him—or even Qi-ge! But Yuan Che knows in his heart that Si-ge can't leave Dawei for an extended period, not at this time so critical to his own betrothal and with the military contest approaching imminently.

Yin Caiqian sneaks into his manor to visit him the night before he's due to leave.

"What are you doing here?" Yuan Che asks in consternation when she shows up in his manor's garden, grinning broadly and with streaks of mud along her skirts where she must have scrambled over the wall.

"I brought you some dinner!" Caiqian announces, and proffers a bundle that has a suspicious grease stain along one side and a strong scent of roast goose.

She steers him to one of the low tables and tugs him down onto a cushion across from her, unwrapping the bundle and popping a piece of meat into her mouth immediately. Yuan Che isn't hungry, and certainly not for roast goose, but he appreciates her attempt to cheer him up.

As Caiqian eats and Yuan Che picks at a goose leg, she chatters about inconsequential things, gossips about their mutual acquaintances in the palace, and presents her latest evidence for their ongoing debate about whether Minister Sun's hair is real or an exceptionally well-kept wig.

"I was standing behind him, and I could see a strand of it caught on the embroidery of his robe's collar. When he bowed it pulled the hair so taut I thought it would come right out of his head, and he didn't even flinch! Silly Shiyi, I'm telling you, not even the most stoic general could endure that with no reaction!"

Yuan Che smiles at her impassioned argument, but the smile fades as his thoughts return to their well-worn and morose contemplation of his imminent departure.

He had always thought he would marry Caiqian in the end. They grew up together, after all, and she's his friend. He likes spending time with her, and she's always been there, tagging along after him and Si-ge whenever they're in the capital like an incorrigible younger sister. He had assumed that they would get married and nothing would really change beyond him not needing to catch her when she climbed over the wall to visit him. She'd move into his manor, and he'd still spend most of his time with Si-ge on campaigns, or with his other brothers in the capital, or they'd all retreat to the summer palace with its cool streams and mountain breezes when the heat in the capital became unbearable and spend their days relaxing in its shady gardens and critiquing Qi-ge's flute-playing abilities.

Instead he's the one leaving, and he'll likely never live in Dawei again for more than a few months at a time if he gets a chance to visit.

"I'll come visit you in Tian'ning!" Caiqian promises, and Yuan Che doesn't have the heart to tell her that if she manages to somehow win the consort selection contest, and gets married to Si-ge as she's determined to do, it will be much harder for her to travel as a princess consort rather than the unattached daughter of a high-ranking family.

He just nods and smiles wanly, pushing more of the roast goose over to her side of the table.

When Yi Huai comes in to inform them that young lady Yin's attendants have arrived and are waiting to escort her back to her residence, Yuan Che hugs her goodbye tightly.

"I WILL come visit you," she mutters mulishly into the shoulder of his robes as she squeezes him around the waist. "And if that Tian'ning prince isn't good enough for you, I'll beat him up. Just you wait."

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

On the day of Yuan Che's departure, all his brothers gather outside the palace gates to see him off. By an unspoken consensus they approach individually in age order, the others falling back to give him a private farewell with each.

When San-ge approaches he wishes Yuan Che luck and then glances at their other brothers and lowers his voice.

"Shiyi-di...I know this isn't what you wanted, but getting out of Dawei for a while might not be a bad thing. I know how much you care for all of us but...Father can have only one successor. It might be a good thing that you're not here and being forced to make difficult choices." He gives Yuan Che a small, tight smile, but Yuan Che can clearly read the pity in his eyes.

San-ge's eyes flit to where Yuan Ming is waiting on horseback by the carriages, scowling slightly. "Jiu-di as well," he says. "He's been stressed recently and—all this talk of weddings is bringing up bad memories of his own marriage and late wife. If he says something cruel—" San-ge pats Yuan Che's shoulder. "Please try to be understanding, Shiyi-di." Yuan Che nods, and San-ge pats his shoulder once more with a small sigh before stepping back and allowing Si-ge to take his place.

Yuan Ling squeezes the back of Yuan Che's neck. "I wish you weren't leaving," he says, and Yuan Che slumps, a small part of him still hoping Si-ge will suddenly announce that he's managed to find another alliance; that Yuan Che won't need to leave Dawei after all. "But I know that I can count on you to always do what's best for Dawei," Si-ge continues briskly, crushing that last lingering flicker of hope. "I know you won't disappoint me."

When it's Yuan Li's turn, he throws himself forward and gives Yuan Che a tight hug, squeezing the air out of his lungs until Yuan Che squeaks.

"I'm sorry I couldn't change Father's mind," he mutters into Yuan Che's chest where he's pressed his face. "You know how stubborn the old man can be." Yuan Che gives a small smile at Yuan Li's typical lack of respect.

"Thank you for trying, Shi'er-di." He hadn't truly expected Yuan Li to be able to do anything, but it's comforting to know that at least one of his brothers had pleaded on his behalf.

Yuan Li reaches up and pinches Yuan Che's cheek as though he's a small child. "You know you've always been my favorite brother, right?" he says as Yuan Che tries to bat his hand away. "Take care of yourself in Dawei."

"Of course I will," Yuan Che promises.

Yuan Li releases him and Yuan Che reluctantly steps back, looking over to where Yi Huai is holding the reins of his horse. The rest of the party of ministers, servants, and guards cluster around the carts containing wedding gifts and Yuan Che's belongings, waiting to leave. Jiu-ge's fingers tap impatiently on his reins and his horse sidles.

Yuan Che takes a step towards the group and Yuan Li shouts suddenly, startling everyone.

"Oh, I forgot! I have something for you!" He digs around in various sleeves and pockets, looking for whatever it is...and knowing Yuan Li it could be anything. Yuan Che watches nervously, and Yuan Li pulls out a thin bundle messily wrapped in a handkerchief.

"Hold out your hand," he orders. A series of events from Yuan Che's youth flash through his mind, all pointing to why that would be a very bad idea.

"No."

Yuan Li pouts. "Shiyi-geee," he whines and Yuan Che sighs, holding out his hand.

"And close your eyes."

Yuan Che gives Yuan Li a glower that says under no circumstances will he be doing that, and Yuan Li rolls his eyes.

"Fine, fine," he grabs Yuan Che's wrist and fumbles with the handkerchief, opening it to reveal a surprisingly tasteful bracelet that looks to be worked from pure silver. Yuan Che catches a glimpse of delicate patterns carved into its surface as Yuan Li shoves it onto his wrist. It's actually quite nice. Yuan Che starts to relax.

Then Yuan Li reveals the second half of his present with a flourish: a thin booklet with a vibrant red cover instantly recognizable as a collection of pornography. Several of his brothers choke on smothered laughter.

"It's to give you some "inspiration" for your wedding night!" Yuan Li announces, far too loudly, slapping the book into Yuan Che's palm. Yuan Che flushes deeply, scandalized, and tries to shove the book back at Yuan Li. He takes it far too readily, then flips it open.

"This part here should be really helpful—and look, there's pictures, too!" To Yuan Che's horror he begins to read aloud, " —soft as the freshly unfurled petals of the magnolia, pale and yielding, bruising just as easily—the skin of my beloved beneath my palms— "

Yuan Che snatches the book away and shoves it into his robes just to make Yuan Li stop, and Yuan Li smirks triumphantly as if this had been his plan all along.

Jiu-ge has clearly had enough and orders the carts and guards to start moving out. Yuan Che reluctantly mounts his horse after one final hug from Yuan Li and follows, turning back to look at his brothers clustered around the palace gates for as long as he can until they're obscured by the distance and bustle of the city.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Travel drags on endlessly due to the carts moving no faster than a walking pace and fussy ministers who insist on sleeping in inns of a certain quality each night rather than pressing on as far as possible in a day and camping near the road, as Yuan Che is used to doing when traveling with cohorts of Black Armor soldiers.

He gets ahold of a copy of the wedding contract which includes an outline of the trade negotiations (apart from the few details that will be finalized in person by the ministers of trade who are going to Tian'ning) and reads it carefully.

If his life and future are being bartered away like this, he should at least ensure Dawei is getting a good deal.

There's an expansive section detailing the future trade of medicinal plants native to both countries, and Yuan Che learns that in celebration of the wedding his father is sending a dozen carts' worth of medical supplies to an eastern region of Tian'ning. He scrounges his memory and comes up with a few vague references to that region having had outbreaks of plague in recent years.

In return, Tian'ning is sending shipments of high quality lumber to assist in rebuilding near the Dawei-Liang border where fighting had occurred. Yuan Che dearly hopes the shipments actually reach the villages they are intended for and don't get "diverted" to a regional governor's personal construction project.

He's already halfway through mentally drafting orders to send back to Dawei and debating which Black Armor army squads to assign to escort each shipment when he remembers—he's not a Black Armor general any longer. Tian'ning, not unexpectedly, refused to allow a foreign military commander to marry into the imperial family at any level, and so he's been stripped of his command. He has no soldiers and no authority in military matters—and attempting to give any orders would be viewed as treasonously usurping command. He commands no one but himself.

Yuan Che scowls down at the scroll and decides to send a letter of 'suggestions' to Si-ge anyway.

He commits the rest of the details to memory and proceeds to interrogate everyone else in the wedding party (especially the two who have visited Tian'ning previously) for any information on the country, capital city, imperial family, and his husband-to-be.

Yuan Che has never paid much attention to Tian'ning, filing the country firmly into the "not a threat to Si-ge, not important" category in his mind, but even he has heard rumors of Prince Qin—Long Feiye. It's hard not to hear rumors of an exceptionally talented general who, apparently, was one of the few survivors of the massive battle and led the imperial Tian'ning army to their victory over Xiqiu by single-handedly wiping out a large portion of their forces.

He's only a handful of years older than Yuan Che himself, but he's been leading the Tian'ning imperial army for ten years.

As for Long Feiye himself...

"I saw him a few times during Tian'ning court functions," one of the Dawei junior ministers slurs after consuming enough wine to forget his earlier distaste for gossip. Yuan Che eagerly refills his cup. "Not often—I think he doesn't attend unless he has to. He's kind of..." He makes a vague gesture that Yuan Che doesn't know how to interpret. "Not fun," the junior minister pronounces.

"But he's popular—the people love him! Ask anyone on the streets and they'll sing the praises of his sense of honor and justice. He's always the visible one, y'know? When the emperor sends him out to assist with a disaster like floods or famine. People say he really cares about Tian'ning citizens, all the refugees and villages that got destroyed due to warfare—he sticks up for them in court and makes plans for the displaced villagers. I've never seen it but," he throws back the cup of alcohol, spilling half of it down his chin, "that's what they say."

Yuan Che thinks that doesn't sound so bad. It sounds almost too good to be true, in fact. He wonders how much of Feiye's reputation is accurate, and how much is wishful thinking on the part of Tian'ning citizens desperate for a heroic figure.

Long Feiye's personal reputation, on the other hand, is...less than ideal.

Cold, Yuan Che hears.

Impartial to the point of ruthlessness.

Utterly uninterested in marriage with no concubines or even known romantic dalliances.

Yuan Che spends hours staring at the official portrait of Feiye Tian'ning sent to Dawei with the finalized marriage proposal. The Feiye in the scroll is handsome (but then official portraits are always flattering), but even in the painting he looks cold and impatient, like he has better things to be doing than wasting time sitting for a portrait.

When Yuan Che lies in bed at night unable to sleep, his mind unerringly returns to envisioning possible outcomes of his marriage.

In the best-case scenario he imagines, he and Feiye bond over their shared experiences as generals at the frontlines. Feiye values his abilities in a way his brothers have never done, showering Yuan Che with praise and gratitude instead of just accepting Yuan Che's work as his due... and Yuan Che knows it's just a dream.

The worst-case scenario features far more prominently in his tired mind: a husband who resents being forced into a marriage he doesn't want, resents Yuan Che's presence, does any number of things to make him miserable. And Yuan Che will have no recourse at all because he has no friends or network in Tian'ning, any misbehavior on his part could risk the alliance falling apart, and Si-ge needs this alliance against the Liang threat—Dawei's forests aren't enough to support the demand for wood to build fortifications, they desperately need access to the lumber and military support Tian'ning can provide; Si-ge needs him to do this...

Yuan Che curls into a ball under the inn's best silk blankets and comforts himself with the more realistic possibility that Feiye will be indifferent to his existence after the wedding and content to ignore Yuan Che so long as he stays out of his way.

After three weeks of travel, Yuan Che is so bored that he pulls Yuan Li's gift out of its hiding place at the very bottom of a pack of his least-favorite robes and takes a look. It IS eye-opening to say the least.

The back page and blank inside cover are covered in cramped characters in what looks suspiciously like Yuan Li's handwriting, detailing the practical considerations of "amorous congress between two males," an itemized list of points at which the author of the book has "taken unrealistic artistic license," and blunt explanations of the reality. Yuan Che grimaces at the thought of where or how Yuan Li might have acquired the knowledge.

It's a little insulting, really.

It's like Yuan Li has forgotten that Yuan Che spent significant time over the past ten years campaigning in remote locations with an army composed overwhelmingly of men. Often horny men whose only company was other horny men to the point where sometimes it seemed like Yuan Che was the only one in the camp not enthusiastically falling into bed with the rest of the legion. Despite his lack of practical experience he's heard and overheard more than enough frank discussions to know exactly what happens when two (or more) men go to bed.

He considers tossing the book into the mud on the side of the road but can't bring himself to throw away a present from his brother. Instead he wraps it back up in a handkerchief and shoves it down into its hiding place, praying that none of the servants will discover it amongst his belongings.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

The journey that would take a fortnight for a solo traveler on horseback takes their large group with the many carts of Yuan Che's belongings, gifts, and wedding goods over a month. A little over halfway to their destination, an unseasonably heavy rainstorm forces them to halt for several days. Even after the skies clear, they're slowed considerably as the carts struggle through muddy roads in the aftermath.

It puts them so far behind schedule that when they cross into Tian'ning and meet the escort awaiting them, they send a swift rider ahead to the capital to make necessary adjustments to the original schedule.

It's raining again when they arrive at the Tian'ning capital in the very early hours of the morning, having pushed through and traveled late into the night. Even the stuffiest of the ministers capitulated when faced with the fact that the auspicious date chosen for the wedding was approaching just three days later.

Yuan Che muses that the rain is a suitable representation of his mood, but an inauspicious omen for his marriage—instead of being welcomed by curious and cheerful crowds of capital residents, it feels like he's sneaking into his own future home under the cover of darkness, soggy and exhausted, welcomed only by an imperial eunuch and steward who are briskly polite in a way that makes it clear they want to get out of the rain and home to their own warm beds as quickly as possible.

Inside the capital, Yuan Che and Jiu-ge are led to a luxurious guest residence not far from the palace where they will be staying until the wedding—at which point Jiu-ge will depart to return to Dawei, and Yuan Che will move into Feiye's manor. Exhausted, Yuan Che follows an attendant to his quarters in a side building of the residence. He's so happy to see a bed after the exhausting day of travel that after Yi Huai helps him out of his soaked outer layers he collapses onto it and is asleep immediately.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥ I ◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

"Dianxia," Yi Huai's insistent voice pulls Yuan Che from slumber. He groans, the past few days of intense travel making themselves known through aching muscles, and squints against the sunlight streaming into the room. How late is it?

"Dianxia," Yi Huai doesn't give up, tugging at the blanket Yuan Che is cocooned in. "I've arranged a bath for you, and Prince Ming has sent for breakfast—well, lunch—to be delivered."

The promise of a hot bath is enough to tempt Yuan Che out of the bedding. Yi Huai directs him through a set of side doors he hadn't noticed the night before and behind a screen to a large wooden tub. After Yi Huai heads back into the central room, Yuan Che strips and sinks into the warm water with a relieved sigh. An opportunity to soak feels heavenly after the past several days of rushed travel that left him no time for more than a quick stand-up wash.

After he scrubs away the sweat and grime of traveling he feels refreshed and much more optimistic than he had the night before. At least it's no longer raining.

Jiu-ge informs him of the day's schedule over breakfast—technically a midday meal since they arrived late enough the previous night to warrant spending the entire morning in bed. In the early afternoon they have a formal meeting with the Tian'ning emperor where Yuan Che will be officially presented to his future brother-in-law. The Dawei trade ministers who accompanied them will begin meetings with Tian'ning representatives to finalize the trade agreement details.

In the evening they are expected at a welcome banquet in honor of the betrothal. Yuan Che scowls at Jiu-ge's unsubtle reminders that he is expected to be on his best behavior.

"I don't need to remind you that everything you do and say in the Tian'ning court will reflect directly on Dawei." Yuan Che bristles and prods at a piece of rice stuck to the side of his bowl to avoid letting slip any of the undiplomatic responses he wants to snap at Jiu-ge. He knows . He knows how much Dawei and Si-ge need this alliance. "Just don't do anything Yuan Li would do," Yuan Ming finishes with a shudder and Yuan Che can't help a small smile at that.

After the meal, back in his temporary bedroom, he sighs at the formal court robes Yi Huai and a cluster of attendants have set out. Yi Huai sends him a sympathetic glance as the attendants descend—one forcing him into a low chair, taking down his casual topknot, and then twisting his hair back up into the typical painfully tight Dawei court style. Yuan Che eyes the large, ornate headpiece in another attendant's hands and resigns himself to having a headache before long.

The streets are bustling and clean after the heavy rain the night before, and appealing smells from street vendors drift into the carriage. Their passage through the central market street is noted, and it doesn't take long before the imperial escort and foreign Dawei fashion attract significant attention.

The news races up the road ahead of them, swiftly outpacing the carriage.

"The Dawei prince—"

"Prince Qin's future consort!"

"Is that him on the horse?"

"No, I think he's in the carriage..."

Crowds swarm to the edges of the road, jostling and whispering, eager to see the procession.

As heads turn and necks crane, Yuan Che lets the window curtains fall and retreats back into the carriage, suddenly grateful for its protection against the hundreds of eyes outside, all straining to catch a glimpse of him.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

It's a long walk from the inner gates of the palace where Yuan Che escapes the carriage to the main imperial throne hall where the emperor will greet them. An expansive paved plaza stretches out, and a huge staircase leads up to the imposing building perched on top, so high it seems to be floating in the sky.

Guards in gleaming helmets stand motionless in perfect lines along the entire route, and Yuan Che wonders if they're always there or if they've been brought out specifically to impress the foreign visitors.

Several of the more portly ministers in their party are puffing by the time they reach the top of the staircase, and even Yuan Che is feeling uncomfortably warm under all his layers. Tian'ning isn't hot, but it's certainly warmer than Dawei at this time of year.

Once inside, the throne hall stretches before them—a massive space lined with pillars and richly carpeted. At the far end a cluster of figures stand before the Tian'ning emperor, enthroned on a high platform rising above the floor, resplendent in full state finery.

Yuan Che had imagined a Tian'ning version of his father, but the emperor is young, perhaps only a little younger than his oldest brother. He is an imposing presence where he sits on his throne on top of the platform, the beaded strands of his formal headdress swaying in front of his face, and his eyes are sharp as they survey Yuan Che, his brother, and the collection of Tian'ning ministers and their assistants.

Yuan Che's eyes slide across the faces of the other men in the room until he finds the one he's looking for.

Long Feiye's face is just as handsome in real life as it was in his portrait, and Yuan Che thinks that he may even be more attractive in person, since the portrait had failed to capture the sharpness of his jaw or grace of his bearing. Feiye seems to sense that he's being watched and his eyes catch Yuan Che's.

Feiye's gaze dips as he looks Yuan Che over from head to toe, and his expression doesn't change in the slightest but Yuan Che can't help but feel like he's been judged and found wanting.

An imperial eunuch steps forward to announce them.

"Their highnesses Prince Yuan Ming and Prince Yuan Che of Dawei."

"Approach," the emperor intones, and Yuan Che and Jiu-ge step forward and bow.

"On behalf of Yuan An, emperor of the state of Dawei, I relay greetings and good wishes to his Imperial Majesty Tian Huidi, emperor of Tian'ning," Jiu-ge announces formally. "It is my father's greatest hope that this union will be the beginning of a fruitful relationship between our two great nations and lead to peace and prosperity for both peoples."

Jiu-ge turns slightly and Yuan Che recognizes his cue. He steps forward and sweeps his arms up into the most graceful circle he can manage, bowing deeply to the Tian'ning emperor.

"In our father's stead may I present Prince Yuan Che, eleventh prince of Dawei, promised future consort of his highness Prince Qin of Tian'ning," Jiu-ge pronounces.

"Your Imperial Majesty," Yuan Che intones, rising from his bow and glancing nervously upwards before fixing his eyes on the foot of the throne instead. The emperor gives a pleased nod.

Yuan Che doesn't have to do much beyond bowing. Bowing as he's introduced to his betrothed. Bowing as Long Feiye is introduced to him. Bowing along with everyone else as the Tian'ning emperor formally accepts their engagement and announces the wedding date.

Yuan Che can't help but twitch slightly when the Tian'ning emperor addresses Feiye as "Si-di." It seems four really is the number intertwined with his fate.

Yuan Ming takes an ornate scroll from an attendant and presents it with perfect formal courtesy on outstretched hands. One of the emperor's advisors steps forward to receive it.

"His eminence Yuan An sends his blessing to his future son-in-law and his wishes for health and long life. To commemorate this union he has ordered one dozen carts of medical supplies to be sent to Tian'ning to provide what aid they may to the people of his eleventh son's new home."

A Tian'ning representative steps forward and makes a similar announcement about the shipments of lumber Yuan Che had read about in the marriage contract documents. Yuan Che tries not to nod off from boredom.

Then he stands and tries not to let the boredom show on his face as the ministers of trade from both countries exchange lengthy and pompous greetings. The overabundance of flowery praise for each other in the speeches is only surpassed by the amount of subtle praise for themselves. Yuan Che spends the time covertly watching Feiye.

He's intimidating, and his eyes are cold—with what Yuan Che hopes is distance, not cruelty. His behavior is absolutely polite and correct, but holds no warmth. He doesn't look in Yuan Che's direction again, and Yuan Che isn't sure whether he's relieved or disappointed.

At long last the emperor calls an end to the audience, and the ministers of trade from both countries vanish into a side room with their bevies of assistants, no doubt to continue discussions and finalize agreements regarding routes and goods to be exchanged.

Long Feiye escorts Jiu-ge and Yuan Che out of the hall and back towards the gates, and for once Yuan Che finds himself walking in front of his elder brother, beside his future husband. He desperately wants to say something, anything, but his mind has gone blank and Feiye is striding quickly, in no apparent mood to dally or take pity on Yuan Che and start a conversation.

"I'll see you at the banquet tonight?" Yuan Che means for it to be a statement, but the nervousness in his voice shapes it into a question. He curses to himself; what an inane thing to say the first time he addresses his betrothed. Of course he will see Feiye at the banquet that evening; it's a banquet in their honor, after all.

"Of course. I look forward to seeing Prince Che again this evening," Feiye's voice is exquisitely polished and polite and devoid of emotion, but when he holds out a hand to help Yuan Che into the carriage, his grip is strong and warm.

Yuan Che tries to make himself believe that being married to Feiye won't be so bad. It's a struggle.

Back at the guest residence they have several hours before the evening banquet. Yuan Ming is snappish and irritable and tells Yuan Che not to bother him before vanishing into his rooms, so Yuan Che spends the time with Yi Huai, listening to all the tidbits of Tian'ning information and gossip he had managed to collect over the course of the day.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

The banquet that evening is held outdoors in a large garden surrounded by the walls of several palace buildings. The evening is crisp and clear after the rain the previous night, and Yuan Che is grateful not to be crammed inside a crowded hall for the evening. The emperor and highest-ranking members of the court are placed directly in front of the adjoining hall's main doors, under the overhang of the roof, and the remainder of the guests are arrayed at individual tables set up fanning out on either side of the courtyard's center which has been left open for performances.

Feiye is seated in a place of honor on the west side, and Yuan Che has been given the table next to him. Jiu-ge seated in a similarly prominent position across on the east side of the building's porch.

Feiye arrives to the banquet almost last, long after Yuan Che has started to anxiously wonder if he's even going to show at all, slipping in from the side and bowing in greeting to the emperor as the woman Yuan Che thinks must be the empress dowager glares at him.

The food is excellent and the decorations and entertainment are stunning; Tian'ning has spared no expense on this opportunity to show off in front of the Dawei delegation.

Yuan Che watches in delight as a group of dancers whirl around the courtyard—the lively beat of the music and mesmerizing patterns are enough to make him forget the context of the performance, forget why he's here and what the future holds. The next group to enter the center of the courtyard are an acrobatics team and Yuan Che gasps in amazement at a complex maneuver that sends one of their members flying and twisting in the air.

"Did you see—" he's already turning to address Yuan Li, who's always seated just over his shoulder at these sorts of official events, when reality catches up and he realizes there's no Yuan Li, there's no other brothers to commentate on the performances with. There's just Long Feiye, staring at him with his eyebrows slightly raised. Yuan Che falters but forges ahead anyway.

"Did—did you see that? That was amazing!" Feiye doesn't react and Yuan Che struggles to think of anything else to say. Surely the entertainment is a neutral and acceptable topic? "The dance styles in Dawei are very different from Tian'ning; I've never watched a dance like this before. Have you, um, seen a lot of good performances at court events?"

"I have not," Feiye says impassively. "When I visit the capital I do not attend unnecessary court functions."

"Oh. I see." Yuan Che's heart sinks. He supposes he should be glad Feiye at least deems his own wedding necessary enough to attend.

Yuan Che is saved from the dying conversation—if one question and answer even qualifies as a conversation—by servants silently slipping in to distribute platters of fruits and small sweet cakes and fresh pitchers of wine to each guest.

Yuan Ming rises and steps forward as the group of acrobats depart from the center of the courtyard.

"Your Imperial Highness," he greets the emperor with a graceful bow. "Esteemed members of the Tian'ning imperial court," he turns to include all the gathered guests with a shallower bow. "This wine has accompanied me here from Dawei, where it is a favorite at the court. I am pleased to share it with you all on this joyous occasion," a pleased murmur sweeps through the assembled guests, punctuated by several loud cheers from those who have already consumed significant amounts of other wine during previous courses.

"Please join me in a toast to Long Feiye, my future brother-in-law," Jiu-ge continues, and an attendant steps forward with a tray bearing two cups and a much more ornate jar of wine than the plain dark ceramic jugs Yuan Che knows the rest of the wine was transported in. Feiye rises to polite cheers from the assembled guests as Jiu-ge breaks the seal and pours two cups. He takes one off the tray and Yuan Che hurries to pour his own cup along with the other guests.

"To my future brother-in-law, with wishes for a long and happy marriage," Jiu-ge's voice is clear and carrying, and Yuan Che just wishes it were filled with any honest happiness on his behalf. The attendant offers the tray to Feiye, who takes the second cup. "And to a prosperous union between Tian'ning and Dawei!"

"Tian'ning and Dawei!" the crowd echoes, and drinks with enthusiasm. The atmosphere among the assembled guests lightens as Jiu-ge and Feiye reseat themselves, happy chatter filling the courtyard, but Yuan Che feels his mood sinking further. The taste of the familiar Dawei wine on his tongue just reminds him of home and the people there and how different everything about Tian'ning is. He pushes the pitcher of wine away and takes a slice of pear instead, glancing at the silent and stone-faced Feiye and wondering if another attempt at conversation is worth it. A light melody from a new group of musicians floats through the space.

Yuan Che is still internally debating the merits of attempting a conversation with his betrothed when he hears a small noise from Feiye's direction. Yuan Che glances at him, but Feiye looks normal, his face smooth. He rises abruptly and Yuan Che startles.

"Please excuse me—" several heads turn as Feiye doesn't wait for a response from the emperor, whirls, and suddenly chokes and stumbles. Yuan Che jumps to his feet in alarm.

"Prince Qin, what's wrong? Are you sick?"

Has Feiye choked on some food? More heads are turning towards them. Yuan Che sees movement from the corner of his eye as the man he recognizes as one of Feiye's bodyguards earlier that afternoon rushes towards them from the edge of the courtyard with concern clear on his face.

At Feiye's side, Yuan Che grabs his arm as he staggers again, but Feiye tears himself away from Yuan Che, shoving him back so strongly that Yuan Che trips over the hem of his robes and falls halfway on top of his low table with a loud clatter, banging his elbow painfully on the way down.

Then the world explodes.

A wave of qi slams outwards, pressing Yuan Che down against the floor and flinging others through the air. Wood cracks and screams fill the air as guests panic, but they're muffled and indistinct sounds in Yuan Che's ears as he stares in wide-eyed horror as Long Feiye ... changes.

The view is hazy, Feiye's qi a physical presence distorting the air, but Yuan Che watches as the color bleeds out of his hair, now hanging loose around his shoulders. Feiye's eyes are red and bloodshot, with none of the sharp intelligence Yuan Che had noted earlier; instead they glow with a blank inhuman rage.

"P–Prince Qin..?" Yuan Che's voice quavers and he doesn't even know what he's asking—what CAN he ask when faced with—with this?

Feiye's attention snaps to him and for a heartbeat Yuan Che thinks that everything will be fine.

Then the Feiye-shaped creature springs forward in a single violent burst of movement and rips his throat out.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥ II ◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

"Dianxia."

Yuan Che wakes in a panic, his heart racing. He lashes out wildly and Yi Huai dodges backwards with an annoyed shout.

"Dianxia? Dianxia, what's wrong!?"

Yuan Che's hands fly to his throat and he gasps for breath, staring around the room. He's in the guest residence, in bed, Yi Huai hovering over him in concern.

It was. It was a dream.

But it had felt so real—the weight of the robes over his shoulders, the taste of Dawei wine lingering on his tongue, the sharp bite of his future husband's nails slicing into the skin of his neck—

Yuan Che forces his hands down from his (whole, uninjured) neck and takes a deep breath.

"I'm fine," he assures Yi Huai. "I just—had a nightmare." The concern doesn't leave Yi Huai's eyes, but it fades into a more familiar one; he knows how Yuan Che has suffered from intense dreams in the past.

"There are herbs in the supplies we brought with us," Yi Huai assures him. "I'll have someone dig them out and see about making you a tea for this evening." He tugs at Yuan Che's blanket. "You'll feel better after you wake up fully and leave the dream behind. Come on, I've had a bath drawn for you and Prince Ming has ordered for breakfast—well, lunch—to be delivered."

In the bath Yuan Che scrubs his face hard. It's not unusual for him to have nightmares when he's stressed, and he's always had strange and fantastical dreams that seem exceedingly real, even when he was still a student back at the imperial academy. Dreaming of his future husband magically turning into a mindless creature of rage and attacking him isn't even unexpected, given his stress and worries about this marriage and his future in Tian'ning.

Pleased with this rationalization and now fully awake, Yuan Che scrubs himself clean and emerges from his rooms in the guest residence feeling refreshed, determined, and optimistic about the day.

After all, it would be difficult for reality to be worse than what his subconscious had cooked up.

He's just passing the far wall of the building he spent the night in, heading toward the hall where Jiu-ge has ordered their meal to be laid out, when he's suddenly grabbed and yanked backward around the corner.

The hand clapped over his mouth muffles his shout, and the familiar voice hissing, "Silly Shiyi, stop struggling!" makes him still. The hands release him, and Yuan Che twists around to the familiar sight of his younger brother looking around worriedly to ensure they haven't been spotted.

"Shi'er-di!" Yuan Che attempts to sound shocked and disapproving, but mostly he sounds delighted. "When did you get here? Were you following us the whole time? How did—"

"Shiyi-ge, ge, listen to me," Yuan Li cuts him off and Yuan Che falls silent, waiting wide-eyed. "I'm sorry, I don't have much time. I know you're confused, but this was all I could do." Yuan Li's eyes are uncharacteristically serious as he glances around as though he expects an actual enemy to appear instead of just an angry Jiu-ge.

"Shi'er, what do you mean?"

"Look, I'll be back, but in the meantime just—just stay alive, alright? I need to sort out some stuff, put out a few fires, you know—none of my own creation of course!—and then I'll be back." His speech is rushed and cryptic, and Yuan Che lunges after him to grab his sleeve when he starts to dash away.

"Wait, but you'll—you'll come to the wedding, right?"

"I'll see what I can do, but I—" Yuan Li cuts himself off as Yuan Che's eyes widen piteously. He sighs. "Of course," he says. "Of course I'll come to your wedding, silly Shiyi." He gives Yuan Che's arm a reassuring pat, even as his eyes slide away from Yuan Che's to glance nervously around the corner of the building.

"Take care of yourself!" he orders sternly. "I'll be back before you know it, just as soon as I finish dealing with a few things."

With one final pat to Yuan Che's arm he's gone, dashing around the corner in a flurry of robes. Yuan Che runs after him but it's too late—when he emerges into the side courtyard Yuan Li is nowhere to be seen. Yuan Che walks the length of the building looking for him, but gives up quickly. He knows from experience that a Yuan Li who doesn't want to be found won't be.

He retraces his steps and joins Jiu-ge for breakfast. Jiu-ge scowls at him for the delay even though he already started eating without waiting for Yuan Che to arrive.

But Yuan Che's mood is boosted by the thought that Yuan Li snuck away from Dawei and came all this way. At least there'll be one person at his wedding who actually cares about his future happiness.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Yuan Che's optimistic mood sinks slowly into confusion over the course of the day as small details identical to his dream pile up.

Long Feiye's appearance is exactly how he'd imagined, despite only ever seeing his portrait.

The imposing scale of the Tian'ning palace which he had only heard described in the most general terms.

The shining gold of the Tian'ning emperor's robe and his headdress with its swaying beads.

The boring speeches of the ministers, and the silent walk with Feiye back to the carriage after.

Had his dream truly been a vision of the future?

"Prince Che," Feiye prompts, when Yuan Che stares at his outstretched hand for a beat too long in front of the carriage. He forces away the memory of that hand closing around this throat with murderous intent.

"Yes, of course, I'll see you at the banquet tonight," he squeaks.

Feiye's grip is just as firm and warm as it was in his dream.

Back at the guest residence Yuan Che pleads exhaustion and tells Yi Huai that he's going to take a nap. Yi Huai helps him out of his outer layers and ornate hairpiece and then vanishes, reappearing a short while later with a steaming pot of tea.

Yuan Che inhales the familiar scent gratefully and drinks several cups before curling up in bed, falling asleep to the familiar calming sounds of Yi Huai shaking out his clothes and rummaging through papers at the desk.

His sleep is deep and dreamless, and Yuan Che awakes refreshed in body if not mind.

Unfortunately the banquet, too, is just as he'd dreamed it. Feiye's last-minute arrival, the arrangement of the seats, the colorful whirl of dancers, even the exact flips of the acrobats.

Yuan Che grows more and more anxious as the evening progresses. What if the dream was a vision—a warning? Is his future husband sick? Was the violent transformation an attack of some curse?

Yuan Che watches Feiye surreptitiously for the entire banquet, looking for any signs of illness or injury. Feiye senses that he's being watched and catches his eye. Yuan Che snaps his gaze back to the food on his own table. He can feel heat rising in his cheeks and ears and hopes Feiye notices it and attributes the staring to a shy prince curious about his betrothed (which provides an excellent cover to keep sneaking glances).

He stares unseeingly at the acrobats as they finish their routine and begin to file out of the open performance space in the center of the courtyard. Feiye shows absolutely no hint of suddenly turning into a violent monster.

Servants silently slip in and out, laying out fresh platters of fruits and wine. Yuan Che mechanically pours himself a cup, Jiu-ge's speech passing by his ears without really penetrating. He toasts with the rest of the assembled crowd, voice echoing just a beat behind, the familiar taste of Dawei wine a physical weight in his mouth. It's the exact same as it was in his dream.

Because he's watching Feiye so intently after he sits back down, Yuan Che notices the almost imperceptible intake of breath. The way his knuckles whiten as his hand suddenly clenches before he stands, bowing perfunctorily in the direction of the emperor—

"Please excuse me—" the cut-off speech as Feiye turns, staggers, and drops to his knees.

Yuan Che sits, frozen in horror, and watches his dream come to life.

The wave of qi that burst from Long Feiye slams him backwards into his table with a clatter of metal and porcelain, and he and the furniture go flying into a pillar at the edge of the hall's stone foundation.

Yuan Che struggles to his feet, paralyzed by indecision as guests scream and flee, guards pour into the courtyard, and Feiye lashes out at anything that moves. He has just turned to run when a panicked woman slams into him from behind and he staggers, stumbling over the splintered remains of a banquet table.

Feiye has a sword now, torn away from the dying body of a palace guard. He's slaughtering his way through another rush of guards, sword whirling in an ever-widening circle of carnage.

Yuan Che tries to dodge, but he's too late and Feiye is just too fast, the sword slashing indiscriminately through fabric and bone and into his heart—

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥ III ◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

"Dianxia."

Yuan Che wakes up. Again.

He stares up at the ceiling of the guest residence, not listening as Yi Huai tugs impatiently at his blankets, and knows that something is wrong . It wasn't just a nightmare. Something inexplicable or magical or both is going on.

He pushes himself up in bed, his hand rubbing unconsciously over his chest where he can still feel the bite of Feiye's sword, and shudders.

"Dianxia, are you feeling alright?"

Yuan Che tries to clear his face of whatever emotion it must be showing, and clears his throat.

"I'm fine," he assures Yi Huai, who does not look assured.

In the bath Yuan Che pinches his arm as hard as he can and flinches, sloshing some water over the side. He stares at the angry red mark blossoming on his skin. It feels real.

But so had everything else during the past—day? dream?—and now he's here again somehow, back at the starting point. He's heard whispers that the Mages might have a way to reverse or reconstruct time, but surely doing so would require an immense amount of power. That can't be what's happening. He must be trapped in some kind of curse, or perhaps he really has died and this is some strange facet of the afterlife.

Yuan Che rushes through bathing and dressing and hurries out to where Yuan Li had ambushed him the previous day/dream. There's no sight of him yet, and Yuan Che waits impatiently, ducking around the building and out of sight when Yuan Ming appears, walking from his own quarters to the main building of the residence. Any moment now.

But Yuan Li never appears, despite Yuan Che searching around the entire building and poking his head into as many unoccupied rooms as he can.

Yi Huai finally comes to drag him to breakfast.

"Have you seen Yuan Li?" Yuan Che demands as soon as he sits down, and Jiu-ge chokes on the mouthful of tea he's just taken.

"Yuan Li!?" He looks both angry and slightly panicked at the prospect that their youngest brother might be lurking somewhere nearby, liable to appear when they least expect it. "Of course not. He'd better not be here! Tell me immediately if you see him."

Yuan Che eats mindlessly, his thoughts busy turning over the problem of Long Feiye's mysterious violent transformation. Is he sick or cursed? Was someone targeting him at the banquet, or using him to attack the imperial family? But what type of spell or poison could bring about such a sudden and extreme reaction? Yuan Che has never seen or heard of anything like it, and he shivers at the memory of Feiye's colorless hair and blank eyes filled only with mindless rage. He's heard of illnesses that drive their patients mad, but nothing like this.

Yuan Che flips through his mental accounting of everything he brought with him from Dawei. It includes some medicinal supplies and equipment, much of which he inherited from his mother, but nothing that would be strong enough to counteract Feiye's sickness. He needs something more.

After being dressed for the formal meeting with the Tian'ning emperor Yuan Che dismisses the attendants but calls Yi Huai to remain for a moment. He withdraws his purse from the carved wooden chest on the table and fills it with a selection of gold and silver pieces.

"Take this."

Yi Huai takes the purse, his eyes widening at the weight.

"Dianxia, what is this?"

"Don't accompany me to the palace today," Yuan Che orders, and Yi Huai's brows furrow in confusion and reluctance. "I need you to find the most well-regarded apothecaries in the city and buy their best panaceas. I don't care how much of this you have to spend if the products come with a guarantee of quality and effectiveness."

Yi Huai glances towards the door and windows, leaning forward and lowering his voice. "Do you suspect something? Is there anything I should be watching for?"

Yuan Che shakes his head—how can he possibly explain what's happening in a way that doesn't make him sound drunk or mad? "No I'd just...rather be prepared. Just in case."

Yi Huai nods seriously, tucking the purse into his robes. He's always been unfailingly loyal, following Yuan Che without question even in their youth.

"But if you see Yuan Li—"

"Yuan Li? He's here??"

"I don't know, but earlier I thought I saw—someone who looked like him."

"Saw where? Here inside the residence?" Yi Huai knows as well as Yuan Che how Yuan Li has a habit of popping up in the most unlikely places, however well-guarded they might be. He looks around as though Yuan Li might burst through the door or window at any moment—a not unfounded fear.

From outside, Jiu-ge shouts that it's time to leave.

"Leave together with us and then slip away in the city when you have a chance," Yuan Che instructs Yi Huai. "I'll meet you back here this afternoon after I return from the palace."

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Yi Huai returns in the early evening just as Yuan Che begins to get ready for the dinner banquet. He returns Yuan Che's much lighter purse along with two palm-sized ceramic bottles and one twist of waxed paper, each containing a few rolled pills of different sizes and colors.

"These are from the three best apothecaries in the city, Dianxia," Yi Huai tells him as Yuan Che inspects the pills. "I asked around and there's no doubt of their effectiveness, although all three cost more than their weight in gold."

"That's fine," Yuan Che assures him. He's sure that if they're effective against whatever plagues his future husband they'll be well worth the expense.

During the banquet Yuan Che keeps a close and surreptitious eye on Long Feiye, waiting for the first sign of his sickness. As soon as he sees Feiye's hand clench on the edge of the table he's moving, rushing toward him and fumbling for the medicines he's tucked into his robes.

"Prince Qin, are you sick? Here I have—"

Feiye tries to shove him away.

"No, I need to leave, I—" Yuan Che clings to his sleeve in determination. "Get away from me!" Feiye's tone is angry, but instead of rage there's an undercurrent of something else. Almost panic.

He tears Yuan Che's hand from his robes and shoves him away, hard. Yuan Che stumbles and falls, the panacea pills in his hand scattering across the floor—fuck, he had Yi Huai pay good money for those!—and Feiye staggers. His bodyguard arrives at his side then, trying to haul him upright, and Yuan Che knows what's coming. He flings his arms over his head and curls into a defensive ball as the blast of Feiye's qi knocks everyone and everything several paces back. Yuan Che flinches as what feels like an entire table's worth of plates slam into his back and side.

Guards rush forward and Yuan Che throws himself behind an upturned table. Feiye is occupied with slaughtering the first wave of guards, and Yuan Che takes the opportunity to uncork the second medicinal vial and shake the pills out into his hand. If he can get close enough to get one into Feiye's mouth...

A brief glance shows him how unlikely that is. Yuan Che considers himself reasonably quick on his feet, but he's nowhere near fast enough to get through Feiye's defenses like this. And Feiye has a guard's sword now, already dripping with blood.

A new cluster of guards rush to join the fight from behind Yuan Che, several of them armed with spears or crossbows. They fling themselves forward with roars and battle cries, and Yuan Che grits his teeth as Feiye's attention turns to his side of the room. He hisses in pain as a stray crossbow bolt grazes his leg and embeds itself in the wooden table he's hiding behind.

Yuan Che rises into a half-crouch and prepares to flee, waiting to see which way Feiye will go before he runs. Feiye lunges towards the foremost spearman on the left so Yuan Che bolts to the right, scrambling across the smashed remains of banquet tables, shattered porcelain, and spilled food.

He's less than halfway across the courtyard when a wave of dizziness strikes, and Yuan Che stumbles, falling to his hands and knees. His leg where the crossbow bolt nicked him is strangely numb. Hands grab his arms, pulling him to his feet and further away from the battle, and he can hear Jiu-ge calling his name from further ahead; his voice tight with uncharacteristic panic.

Yuan Che twists, staring down at where his robes are torn. His vision wavers. The fabric around the injury is dark with blood but beyond that—there's something. His shaking fingers brush against the fabric just as Jiu-ge reaches him.

"Shiyi, move !"

Glistening on the fabric. There.

The scenery is spinning faster.

Poison.

Yuan Che can no longer feel the hands under his arms, bodily dragging him out of the courtyard.

His vision is blurring into smudges like ink dropped into water, and the screams and roars from the fight fade as Yuan Che tastes the coppery tang of blood in his mouth.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥ IV ◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

"Dianxia."

Yuan Che wakes and lies motionless in bed, thinking hard.

He's also angry: who the fuck arms banquet guards with crossbows with poisoned bolts?!

Yuan Che pushes himself up in bed obediently at Yi Huai's prodding, mind still busy sorting through the memories of the banquet and fight.

In that cacophony of noise after the explosion of energy, when his ears were still ringing, the shriek of a woman's voice, piercing through the other shouts and screams for help, for guards, for their family and friends to run.

It's gu poisoning! He's gu afflicted!

"Have you ever heard of gu poisoning?" he asks Yi Huai.

"It's nothing familiar, Dianxia," Yi Huai says slowly, frowning as he thinks. Yuan Che also knows of several "gu"s, but none of them are a poison. If it is a poison...

He considers everything he saw Feiye eat and drink throughout the entire evening, and the only special thing was...the Dawei wine. The cup of wine he drank had been poured from a separate jar, not taken from the main stores like the rest.

But how would any poison in the wine affect Feiye faster than his brother?

Reluctantly, Yuan Che considers the possibility that his brother knew the wine was poisoned and had faked drinking it. He wants to dismiss it out of hand—what would be the point of harming Feiye when it would destroy the alliance Dawei desperately needs? Surely none of his brothers would ever do such a thing! But a small voice nags at the back of his mind that perhaps he doesn't know his brothers as well as he thinks he does. After all, if Si-ge could arrange behind his back for him to be married off to a Tian'ning prince...

Yuan Che once again rushes through bathing and dressing, bringing Yi Huai along as he hurries to the storeroom within their temporary residence that is housing various presents, wedding goods, and the rest of Yuan Che's packed belongings. He finds the wine easily, set near the door for easy access later that day when it will be taken and distributed at the banquet.

The decorative and ornate bottle he recognizes from the banquet is in a separate box, and Yuan Che examines the seal carefully. To his eyes it appears intact, and he passes it to Yi Huai who confirms that it seems untampered with.

"Dianxia, do you suspect something?" Yi Huai asks in a low voice.

"I don't know," Yuan Che answers honestly.

Either the wine was poisoned before they even left Dawei, or something happens to it between now and the banquet.

"Stay here this afternoon," Yuan Che orders Yi Huai as they exit the room, sliding the door firmly shut. "Keep an eye on this storeroom and see if anyone goes in or out. From a distance, maybe—" he casts around for a good option "—from the roof over there so you have a good view."

"Of course, Dianxia." As always, Yi Huai nods seriously, accepting his orders without question.

Yuan Che already has a story planned about Yi Huai having caught a cold due to the rainstorm the night they arrived, but Jiu-ge doesn't even notice his absence as they depart for the palace. Yuan Che settles back into the stuffy carriage and tries not to wrinkle his sleeves by fidgeting with them too much.

After the interminable audience with the Tian'ning emperor, Yuan Che sneaks a glance sideways at Long Feiye as they exit the throne hall. Perhaps he should say something now—hint to Feiye that someone may be targeting him, or see if Feiye is familiar with 'gu poison' already.

Halfway down the massive staircase from the royal throne hall Yuan Che glances back and judges that he and Feiye are far enough ahead of Jiu-ge and the rest for a private conversation.

"Have you ever heard of gu poisoning?" he asks, striving for a casual tone of voice. There's no change to Feiye's expression or stride, but something about his presence becomes colder. The back of Yuan Che's neck prickles.

"An intriguing question," Feiye says neutrally, staring straight ahead. "Why do you ask?"

Answering a question with a question. He must know something, Yuan Che thinks, and eagerly pursues the topic of conversation.

"I heard some stories," he says. "About the effects of gu poison. I've heard it makes one's hair lose all color as they go mad. That they become violent," he drops his voice, "After being poisoned they'll attack anything in front of them, even their closest friends."

Feiye meets his eyes, and something in his gaze makes Yuan Che shiver.

"Have you ever seen someone poisoned like that?" he presses, hoping Feiye will have further information about where the poison comes from, or what form it takes.

They've almost reached the base of the staircase and something suddenly nudges Yuan Che's foot, causing it to slip off the step he'd just placed it on. He falls forward with a shriek, flinging his hands up in a desperate attempt to break his fall as the stone paving below rushes up.

Feiye catches him by the arm, wrenching it painfully as Yuan Che's descent comes to a sudden stop, and hauls him close.

"I'd advise you in the future to check the sources of the stories you listen to more carefully," his low voice is a vicious hiss in Yuan Che's ear, and his grip around Yuan Che's upper arm is so tight Yuan Che whimpers. "I'd hate for you to fall into anything—unpleasant." It's unmistakably a threat and Yuan Che stares up at Feiye where he stands on the step above, eyes wide with confusion and not a little fear. What had he said to make Feiye react like THIS?

The rest of their party hurry down the stairs towards them with calls of concern.

"Just a small stumble," Feiye assures them, releasing Yuan Che and stepping back, voice and bearing perfectly composed. "I'm sure Prince Che will be more careful in the future." The words themselves are formal and polite, but when Feiye catches Yuan Che's eyes, his gaze is frigid.

Yi Huai is gone when Yuan Che returns to the residence, and he still hasn't returned by the time they need to depart for the banquet.

He catches up just before they enter the palace, Jiu-ge glaring angrily as he slides into their group beside Yuan Che. As they walk Yi Huai gives a hurried and concise report in a whisper—a mystery woman did indeed enter the storeroom secretly that afternoon after scaling the back wall of the residence.

"I couldn't see her face," Yi Huai says. "She was wearing a veil hiding everything below her eyes, but she wasn't dressed like a servant. I didn't have time to check what she did in the room before I followed her." Yuan Che nods in satisfaction; Yi Huai has always been one of his best agents for information gathering and undercover work.

"Her name is Han Yunxi, the daughter of an imperial physician. I asked around and she's famous in her own right for her medical skills—especially in poisons and detoxification."

As soon as Yuan Che hears 'poison' he knows he must be correct about the wine. A large part of him relaxes at the confirmation that Jiu-ge isn't the one behind things, that some other Tian'ning agent ordered the poisoning.

"Jiu-ge," Yuan Che makes a grab for Jiu-ge's sleeve, "I think there might be something wrong with the wine. We should check—" but Yuan Ming brushes him off, twitching his robes out of Yuan Che's hold and giving him a pointed glare, jerking his chin angrily in the direction of the servant waiting to show Yuan Che to his seat.

Yuan Che grits his teeth and allows himself to be shown to his familiar table, too conscious of the numerous eyes following him to risk a scene if he starts an argument with his brother.

During the banquet Feiye ignores him even more thoroughly this time around, apparently still angry about whatever Yuan Che had unwittingly said that afternoon. Yuan Che huddles in his seat, miserable and confused, and tries to think of a way to stop the poisoning that doesn't involve springing from his seat, shouting "It's poisoned!" in front of the entire Tian'ning court, and lunging forward to knock the jar of wine out of his brother's hands so it shatters on the floor.

As effective as that would be, making a scene when he has no concrete evidence of how the poison got into the wine would not make a great first impression in Tian'ning.

It needs to look like an accident.

He shuffles to the edge of his seat, ready to spring.

"To my future brother-in-law, with wishes for a long and happy marriage," Jiu-ge is saying, one cup of Dawei wine already in his hand and held forward in a toast. The attendant turns, holding the tray still bearing the ornate jar of Dawei wine and the second cup for Feiye. Yuan Che flings himself out of his seat and intercepts as the attendant steps towards Feiye, standing behind his table. The attendant's eyes widen in confusion and Jiu-ge gives him a look that clearly says, "what the fuck are you DOING, sit down ."

Yuan Che snatches the tray away from the attendant, forcing what he hopes is a calm and demure smile onto his face that feels more like a deranged grimace.

"I'll serve my future husband, of course," he says.

"To a prosperous union between Tian'ning and Dawei!" Jiu-ge toasts loudly from behind him, no doubt hurrying to get the toast over with so he can force Yuan Che to sit down and stop making a spectacle of himself.

Yuan Che hefts the tray, takes a step towards Feiye whose icy glare rivals Yuan Ming's, and "accidentally" treads on the hem of his robe. He staggers, tray slipping from his hands, the bottle and cup of wine sliding off and plummeting toward the ground.

Feiye leans forward and catches them both deftly right out of the air.

The tray crashes to the stone with a bouncing clatter that rings in Yuan Che's ears as he stares in disbelief, frozen with his hands outstretched. How had Feiye been so FAST?

With a final scathing look at Yuan Che, Feiye raises the cup briefly and then tosses its contents back in one swift gulp.

"Wait—" Yuan Che doesn't get the full word out before the wine is consumed, and slowly straightens up, dumbstruck, as the attendant scurries forward to retrieve the tray and remaining wine from Feiye.

Then Jiu-ge is there.

"Apologies," his brother grits out in the general direction of Feiye, and grabs Yuan Che's upper arm, dragging him away towards the other side of the platform where he'd been sitting.

"What was THAT?" he hisses, voice filled with rage. "Have you lost all sense? What were you trying to do?!"

Yuan Che doesn't respond, too busy twisting his head, trying to check on Feiye. Yuan Ming shakes him hard.

"Were you trying to look like an idiot? If this behavior continues, I'll—"

But whatever threat Jiu-ge was about to issue is cut off as Feiye's qi explodes outwards, sending them both staggering even at this distance.

From this new angle further away from Feiye, Yuan Che has time to see the guards who instantly swarm around the emperor, creating a living shield as they rush him away to safety. Panicked banquet guests and servants swarm around the courtyard, rushing away from the carnage towards the side gate while a whole troop of guards dash forward from around the side of the hall, crossbowmen firing towards Feiye in blind panic and fumbling to reload as quickly as they can.

Yuan Che hears Jiu-ge yelling for him to run, but his eyes are fixed on Feiye, mind hard at work sorting through the new information, organizing it, and coming to a conclusion that settles like a heavy stone in his stomach.

They were ready.

Despite Feiye's inhuman speed and skills, knocking aside flying crossbow bolts while simultaneously fending off dozens of attackers, one poisoned bolt slips through. His movements slow, enough for one attacker to land a lucky blow before he's torn apart, and then another and another.

A spearman flings himself forward over the bodies that litter the stones and Feiye whirls, his sword through the man's neck before Yuan Che can blink. As his body drops to join the others, Yuan Che sees the spear, driven deep into Feiye's heart where he stands at the center of the gruesome tableau.

Pale hair now matted and dark red, ornate robes torn and sodden with blood, Feiye falls.

Yuan Che wakes up.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥ V ◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

Yuan Che lies in bed, staring at the ceiling with unseeing eyes, Yi Huai's morning nagging a background blur of meaningless sound.

He didn't die that time.

He's absolutely certain he was alive and uninjured until the very end.

The one who died was— Long Feiye.

Yi Huai's tone finally becomes concerned enough for Yuan Che to drag himself out of bed.

"I'm fine," he assures Yi Huai weakly. "Just—just tired." He lets himself be prodded over to the bath, Yi Huai fussing worriedly, and scrubs himself, mind still occupied with the revelations of the previous? upcoming? evening.

It's not just his death that resets things; it's also Long Feiye's death.

The guards were waiting. Yuan Che doesn't know anything about Tian'ning, but THAT many guards, armed with poisoned crossbow bolts, for a celebratory banquet is suspicious. Unless they were expecting a threat—unless the poisoner knew what was about to happen and prepared accordingly.

The poisoner must be someone with enough power in the palace to influence the deployment of the imperial guard, or have the ear of someone with that power.

He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and makes a plan.

Halfway through the meal with Jiu-ge, Yuan Che starts coughing. He fumbles for a cup of tea which is effective for a few moments, but the coughs quickly return, growing stronger until they shake Yuan Che's entire body and Jiu-ge is looking on in concern.

Yuan Che fumbles the cup of tea Yi Huai presses into his hand.

"Yi Huai, my quarters—the—the sachet—" he wheezes, and Yi Huai's eyes widen in realization before he dashes out of the hall.

"Shiyi! Shiyi, what's wrong with you?" his brother demands, trying to shove another cup of tea into Yuan Che's hand as he slumps over the table and gasps for breath.

Yi Huai skids back into the room, sachet in hand, and helps Yuan Che press it over his nose and mouth. Yuan Che clutches it tightly.

"What's wrong with him?!" Yuan Ming demands of Yi Huai as Yuan Che breathes deeply, the cool scent washing over him with comforting familiarity.

"It's his asthma, Prince Ming," Yi Huai answers with a short bow. "The sachet contains a blend of herbs that should calm the flare-up. But he hasn't had an attack like this in—in over ten years at least—"

Yuan Ming looks at Yuan Che in consternation, like this is brand new information. It likely is; he was never close to Yuan Che as a child.

Yuan Che takes one final bracing breath of the calming aroma and lowers the sachet.

"I'm fine," he says, and it comes out raspy. He drinks the cup of tea Yi Huai forces into his hands. "It must be the dry Tian'ning air." Yi Huai shoots him a confused glance.

"Dianxia, the Tian'ning imperial doctors are famous for their skills. Shall I—"

"Oh no, I don't want to bother them with something like this!" Yuan Che protests, and Jiu-ge looks like he fervently agrees, most likely thinking of the rumors that would spread and expand until the entire city believes that Dawei has sent a dying prince stricken with the plague to become Prince Qin's consort.

"But I have heard of one woman with remarkable medical skills—Han Yunxi, the daughter of one of the imperial physicians. They say her abilities surpass even some of the palace physicians, and I'm sure she could be persuaded to be—discreet."

"Summon her," Yuan Ming immediately orders Yi Huai, not questioning how Yuan Che knows this information when they've only just arrived. Typical of his older brothers who always order him to get information, but don't care anything about his networks, just that he can acquire the knowledge they want.

"Of course, Prince Ming," Yi Huai bows in acknowledgment.

"I'll write you a list of materials she should bring for treatment," Yuan Che quickly says, getting to his feet as Yi Huai turns to go.

He gives one more weak cough for good measure as they exit the hall.

"The 'dry Tian'ning air,' Dianxia?" Yi Huai mutters, glancing pointedly at the large puddles remaining from the rain in the night. Yuan Che shoots him his most innocent look, eyes wide, and Yi Huai smothers a scoff. He knows Yuan Che too well to fall for any of that.

Back in his sleeping quarters Yuan Che quickly scribbles a note with several of the herbs that fill the sachet, hoping that Han Yunxi will be able to read his rushed brushwork. He also fills a purse to give to Yi Huai, although he hopes it won't be needed. With luck, Han Yunxi will jump at the opportunity of a legitimate reason to enter their residence and get closer to her target of the wine.

"Bring Han Yunxi as quickly as you can, and have her wait," Yuan Che orders Yi Huai. "Set her up in the main open hall and leave her alone. Don't stop her if she goes wandering, especially to the storage room where the wine we brought from Dawei is being kept, but keep an eye on her." Yi Huai nods seriously, used to laying traps with Yuan Che while gathering information for Si-ge.

As soon as the ink on Yuan Che's note dries Yi Huai tucks both the paper and purse into his robes, bows, and departs.

Yuan Che brings the scented sachet back to his face and inhales deeply once more. He hasn't had need of its medicinal effects for many years now, but the scent still relaxes some tension inside his chest.

When it's time to depart for the Tian'ning imperial palace he tucks the sachet inside the many layers of his formal robes next to his heart and feels steadier.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Yuan Che suffers through the endless formal meeting with the Tian'ning emperor and tries not to fall asleep from boredom. His throat feels a little sore from all the forced coughing earlier and his voice sounds different to his own ears, but no one seems to notice. As usual he spends the time sneaking glances at Feiye, though this time a new question consumes his mind.

If Feiye's death also restarts the day from the beginning, does that mean he's also been repeating the same day, time after time? Surely not, Yuan Che thinks, otherwise he wouldn't drink the poisoned wine. But the question nags at him—why DID Feiye's death restart the day? There must be a connection somewhere.

As they depart the throne hall his eyes slide sideways to Feiye's sharp profile once more. There's really no subtle way to ask "so, have you died and woken up the morning of the same day repeatedly recently?" He's also hesitant to say anything that will make Feiye react like last time. This Feiye is distant and uninterested, but not outright hostile like he'd become the day before. Yuan Che resolves to mention nothing about gu poisoning at all.

"Is this the first time you've done this?" Yuan Che blurts out. Feiye gives him a mildly confused glance.

"No," he answers and Yuan Che stumbles, almost missing his footing on the next step down. Feiye steadies him with a hand on Yuan Che's elbow and an unimpressed look.

"What?!" Yuan Che gapes at him after regaining his footing, hurrying after Feiye who has not slowed his descent down the long staircase. "What do you mean?" Is Feiye truly living the same day repeatedly like him? Then why did he drink the wine!?

"When I was a very young child, the daughter of a healer who cured the empress dowager was promised to me as a future concubine," Feiye sees Yuan Che's flummoxed expression and snorts. "But that's ancient history that no one cares about; I've never even met the woman. You don't need to be concerned about your standing in my household, Prince Che. I have no interest in acquiring consorts or concubines." The "including you" is left unsaid but Yuan Che can hear it clearly in Feiye's tone.

Yuan Che's shoulders slump in disappointment. So Feiye just thought he was talking about marriage. He must not be reliving the same day over and over again like he himself is.

And this marriage wasn't exactly his first choice, either! But he's still going to do his best—as soon as he makes it to the actual wedding. Si-ge and Dawei are depending on him.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

When Yuan Che returns to the guest residence, he's informed that Han Yunxi is waiting to examine him.

As Yi Huai helps Yuan Che out of the heavy formal court robes and into something more suitable for an afternoon spent at "home" he makes his report in a low voice.

"You were right—she went straight for the storeroom, Dianxia. I couldn't see what she did inside, but it didn't take long."

Yuan Che nods and gives Yi Huai a series of instructions in a low voice. He departs with a bow, and Yuan Che goes to meet Yunxi.

She's sitting and waiting in the large open pavilion which borders on the main courtyard, a tray of half-eaten snacks on the table before her. She's still wearing a veil over the lower half of her face and clutching a small satchel slung across her body. Nothing about her screams "poisoner!" but Yuan Che has enough experience with plots and attempts on Si-ge's life to know that would only work to her advantage.

"Prince Che," she greets him politely enough, and they both settle around the low table as servants set out fresh refreshments.

Yuan Che offers his wrist and she lays light fingers over his pulse point. Her brow wrinkles. Yuan Che breaths deeply and slowly according to her instructions, and her brow furrows further.

"And this is a condition you suffered in childhood, correct?" she asks.

"Yes. I've been using these sachets," Yuan Che pulls out the one he has tucked in his robes and Yunxi takes it, examining it carefully and inhaling the scent.

"Well your lungs are fine now, Dianxia," Yunxi says slowly. "Did you receive any other treatment today after the attack this morning?"

"No," Yuan Che answers, eyes wide and honest. Yunxi gives him a look and Yuan Che wonders how many other rich patients she's dealt with who summon a physician for imaginary ailments.

"I'll make up a blend of herbs for you, your highness." She's already digging through the bundle next to her and pulling out several packets of paper. "If you infuse them into a tea it should take care of any lingering symptoms."

"Thank you," Yuan Che says politely. He sees Yi Huai lurking, but is struck by a sudden thought and gives him a small signal to wait. "While you're here," he says, aiming for nonchalance. "Have you ever heard of 'gu poisoning'?" Yunxi doesn't even look up from where she's carefully portioning out dried leaves onto a fresh sheet of paper.

"Of course, everyone's heard of gu poisoning."

Yuan Che scowls. "What kind of poison is it?" he asks. Yunxi glances up at that.

"Well it's not really a poison," she says. "Not like toxins or venoms that can be purged. It's more of a condition, and there's no cure. Once someone is gu-afflicted, they have it for life. Not that they would live very long. The toll it would take on a body is—significant. There's rumors," she leans in slightly, raising one hand to block her mouth as though someone besides Yi Huai or the uninterested servants standing at a respectful distance well out of earshot may be trying to listen in, "that there's a gu-afflicted person in the Tian'ning capital. And not just a crazy one—that someone has refined the gu poison sufficiently to use it to create a poison puppet. Imagine—a fighter with their qi and speed increased to inhuman levels turned into a mindless weapon, obeying only the puppet master who can order them to annihilate any target!" She doesn't sound totally averse to the idea herself, and Yuan Che wonders what target she's imagining being destroyed.

She suddenly seems to remember who she's talking to and laughs nervously. "Ahaha, but of course that's only a rumor. Only ghost stories, Dianxia! You don't need to worry about that!"

Yuan Che, who not only knows exactly who the gu-afflicted individual is but also has first-hand experience at being annihilated, thinks he'll worry quite a lot. Yunxi quickly returns to the dried medicines, folding the paper swiftly into a packet and shaking it to combine the mixture. Yuan Che gives Yi Huai the sign to approach.

"Use a few pinches of this mixture to brew a small pot of tea," Yunxi instructs, tying the packet closed with a length of twine. "It will—" she cuts off as Yi Huai sets an ornate box down on the table between them. Her eyes widen. "It will alleviate the symptoms!" she finishes quickly. "Thank you for your patronage, Dianxia; I'm afraid I have another appointment so—" she starts to rise and Yi Huai puts a firm hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down.

"You've been very helpful, Han-guniang," Yuan Che says mildly, opening the box and carefully lifting out the ornate jar of Dawei wine. "I hope you won't mind answering just a few more questions."

Yunxi glares at Yi Huai and then Yuan Che.

Yuan Che examines the wine jar's seal. It's well-done, almost professionally.

"I almost wouldn't be able to tell it's been tampered with," he comments to Yunxi. "If I wasn't looking. If we hadn't witnessed you doing it."

"Doing what?" Yunxi's eyes slide nervously between Yuan Che and Yi Huai, still looming over her. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Poisoning the wine," Yuan Che says. "Witnesses saw you entering the storeroom, and the proof is right here in this seal that's been tampered with. What did you put in it?"

"I didn't put anything—"

"Who ordered you to do it?"

"I don't know what you—"

"Who are you trying to kill?" Yuan Che finishes angrily.

"It wouldn't kill anyone!" Yunxi protests and then sucks in a breath, veil fluttering. "There is no 'poison' in the wine; I'll drink it myself to prove it!" She makes a grab for the jar and Yuan Che snatches it away, worried she'll try to destroy the evidence. Yunxi rolls her eyes dramatically like THEY're being the unreasonable ones and snatches up one of the small bowls on the table, holding it out in front of Yuan Che.

"Pour me some then," she orders, giving up on any pretense. "Nothing I added is a poison, and I would know!"

Yuan Che hesitates and Yunxi makes an impatient gesture with the bowl, as if daring him to pour the wine. Yuan Che glances down—however she'd gotten the poison into the bottle it hadn't broken the whole seal. He thinks Jiu-ge will throttle him if he breaks it completely to pour some out now.

"What poison did you put in it?" he presses again and Yunxi sets the bowl down with a sigh.

"I TOLD you, it isn't poison," she insists and rattles off a list of ingredients. Several of them are unfamiliar to Yuan Che and he commits them to memory, catching Yi Huai's eye who glances at Yunxi and makes a "is she crazy?" face.

"The mixture won't have any effect beyond shifting the body's flow of qi and making the drinker more susceptible to the alcohol. They'll get drunk quicker, Dianxia, that's it, I promise! Some people add this to their wine intentionally—and I distilled this batch myself; I know it's not a poison."

Reluctantly, Yuan Che wants to believe her. Her eyes are wide and honest above her veil, and it's clear she at least thinks she IS telling the truth.

"Who asked you to do it?" Yuan Che demands. Yunxi shrugs.

"It was a servant, probably from someone in the palace. I don't know who, but it's most likely just someone who wants to play a prank or make the drinker get drunk and do something embarrassing—typical court shenanigans. I don't even know who that wine is for!" she adds vehemently. "It's probably a jilted lover; the woman who delivered the instructions seemed like a lady's maid."

She glances between Yuan Che and Yi Huai, perking up when it's clear neither of them are about to behead her or drag her to prison.

"We have an appointment to meet again tomorrow morning at the Xiaohu Teahouse! They promised me information about my m— something important. After they tell me you can question them yourselves!"

"What if the drinker was afflicted with gu poisoning," Yuan Che asks directly. Yunxi blinks, taken aback, and hesitates.

"It's..." her eyebrows pinch together as she considers. "It's possible...it could trigger the drinker to lose control...if the bian dou was enhanced by unstable qi..." Yuan Che doesn't care about the mechanics; it's clear that whatever she put in the wine, while possibly harmless to most, is what triggered Feiye's violent transformation.

Long Feiye is already gu-afflicted.

Yuan Che dismisses Han Yunxi and orders Yi Huai to escort her out of the residence. Yunxi looks relieved at being let go and practically runs away.

Yuan Che is still staring unseeingly at the jar of wine, thinking hard. Feiye's reaction at the banquet...he knew. He had recognized what was happening and tried to leave, but the poison acted too fast and he lost control before he could get out. With the way Feiye's bodyguard had rushed to drag him away, Yuan Che suspects he knows as well.

Yuan Che wants to smash the wine jar but hesitates. The poisoner's target is Feiye, and he knows the one behind the poisoning has access to the palace, and enough power to increase the guards at the banquet. They suspect that Feiye is gu-afflicted. If he smashes the wine now, they'll try again. Perhaps it's better to use this opportunity to lure them out, or divert their suspicions. It's quite likely they're in attendance at the banquet—most of the court is. If they see Feiye "drink" the wine and nothing happens...it could buy some time.

To do that he only needs to ensure that Feiye doesn't actually drink the wine...

He can do that. He hopes.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

There's a large enough gap between Yuan Che and Feiye's tables at the banquet as to make holding an unobtrusive conversation difficult.

Yuan Che uses the distraction of the acrobats, waiting until an impressive set of flips that he knows will have many of the guests riveted.

"Prince Qin," Yuan Che says quietly, and Feiye's eyes slide in his direction.

"The Dawei wine...don't drink it." He keeps his voice low, but tries to communicate the urgency through his eyes. Feiye looks at him for a long moment, his gaze piercing. Yuan Che swallows, pushing a small cake around on the plate in front of him. "Earlier I heard...anyway, I think you shouldn't. Just in case."

He turns back to the performers quickly, not waiting for Feiye to respond.

He prays that Feiye is paranoid enough to trust an ambiguous warning from a virtually-unknown source.

Yuan Che feels his shoulders growing more and more tense and knows he's staring openly at Feiye during Yuan Ming's toast, but he can't force his eyes away.

He moves unconsciously, splashing some wine into his own cup and some onto the table, and he can see the fine tremors of his hand reflected in the surface of the wine as he raises the cup to toast with the rest of the assembled guests.

Long Feiye drinks the wine.

Yuan Che stares at him as he retakes his seat, but Feiye ignores him, posture impeccable and attention firmly fixed on the musicians tuning their instruments.

Yuan Che waits for the choking, the hasty attempt at a polite exit, the transformation.

Nothing happens.

Yuan Che scans the guests, looking for anyone else watching Feiye intently as though expecting him to explode with violence. Many guests are looking in their direction, but no one seems unduly fixated on Feiye.

At last the emperor retires for the evening, and the banquet officially "ends." In reality the wine is still flowing, so the gathering shifts into a more casual form as cliques of people gather together, voices rising in volume now that the oppressive formality is relaxed.

Feiye vanishes immediately after the emperor departs, so fast that Yuan Che doesn't even see him leave.

Yuan Che wants to leave but Jiu-ge is still there, talking with a cluster of Dawei ministers and Tian'ning officials. Yuan Che knows he should pay attention to the guests who remain—after all, this will be his future environment, and he needs to glean all the information he can about the people to see where the connections are, how influence in the court flows, learn who can be bribed, pressured, wheedled into favors, and who he should take care not to anger at all costs.

The thought of doing so exhausts him, and the lingering taste of the familiar Dawei wine causes a sudden pang of homesickness. He knows all those things about the Dawei court, but he's starting from the absolute bottom here and Feiye seems uninterested (at best, mistrustful at worst) of helping his future spouse navigate the court.

With a sigh, Yuan Che gets up and goes to lurk near the edges of Jiu-ge's conversation with—

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥ VI ◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

"Dianxia."

Yuan Che rolls over and muffles a scream into his blankets.

"Dianxia?"

Does he have to keep an eye on his betrothed for every second of the day?? He'd heard Feiye was undefeatable, an unstoppable force in battle who could destroy an entire army almost single-handedly! (Now he reconsiders: perhaps the reason behind those stories was the gu poisoning. After all, Feiye had been slaughtering his way through the banquet hall guards with no issue until the poisoned crossbow bolts slowed him down enough to be killed.)

"Dianxia, are you alright?"

Yi Huai is tugging on the blankets, but Yuan Che clutches them tighter, hiding his face, unwilling to face getting up and dragging himself through the day again.

"Should I call for a doctor?"

At that, Yuan Che finally allows the blankets to be dragged away, pushing himself up in bed.

"I'm..." he can't bring himself to say 'I'm fine' when he very much isn't. "I'm just tired; I didn't sleep well."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Yi Huai asks, and his honest concern brings a tightness to Yuan Che's throat. Despite everything terrible about this neverending day, at least Yi Huai's loyalty never wavers.

"You've helped me so much already," he says, thinking of the panaceas and the spying and Han Yunxi. Yi Huai looks confused but determined.

"I'll always support you, Dianxia," he vows. Yuan Che knows it's the truth. "But you really do have to get up now—Prince Ming has already called for breakfast—"

With a sigh, Yuan Che gets out of bed.

He drags himself through the day.

At the banquet he tells Feiye again that the wine is poisoned, and only worries a little bit when Feiye still appears to drink it. Even though he knows Feiye is acting it's so well-done Yuan Che can't catch him at it.

Just before when he knows Feiye is going to slip away, Yuan Che feigns a headache. By the time he makes it out of the banquet courtyard Feiye is already gone and Yuan Che sprints after him, Yi Huai close on his heels and his small escort of Dawei guards doing their best to catch up.

When he catches up to Feiye and his bodyguard (whose name he has now learned is Chu Xifeng) just inside the palace gates he catches a snatch of Xifeng's words.

"—to the imperial poison experts; it shouldn't take them long to test it and report back about any toxi—" he cuts off abruptly at Yuan Che's approach and Feiye turns as Yuan Che skids to a halt, giving him a narrow look.

Yuan Che isn't surprised that Feiye has had a sample of the wine sent to be tested for poison; it's what he would do if someone tried to poison Si-ge, after all.

Feiye offers to call a carriage for Yuan Che, but he claims that will make his headache worse and he'll walk instead. Feiye accompanies him on foot and they make their way back towards Yuan Che's imperial guest residence.

"When you get the report on the wine..." Yuan Che glances back at where Yi Huai, Xifeng, and the rest of the Dawei guards are trailing behind them, lowering his voice. "You'll know why you couldn't risk drinking it. But also why it would affect you differently from my brother." He doesn't want to risk saying anything where others may overhear, and he's still not willing to mention gu poisoning again if it will turn Feiye so strongly against him.

"Why do you suspect the wine?" Feiye stares at him hard.

Yuan Che tries to think of an explanation that wouldn't be viewed as gross negligence or collusion with the poisoner on Dawei's part. "Earlier today I thought I saw someone suspicious," he shrugs vaguely. "I didn't have a chance to verify before the wine had already been taken away." He hopes that Feiye doesn't know enough about his schedule to prove or disprove that.

Feiye gives him another long look and turns away. They walk in silence, Yuan Che trying to go as slowly as he can to keep an eye on Feiye as long as possible. He has no idea what happened the previous evening to make the day reset, but he can only assume it ended with Feiye losing his life. Unfortunately Feiye seems intent on walking to his doom as quickly as he can.

At last they reach an intersection of roads and Feiye turns to him, bowing stiffly.

"Good night, Prince Che," he says, and Yuan Che has no legitimate reason to keep him company any longer.

Feiye departs, and Yuan Che stares after him. He wants to follow but he doesn't have any good excuse and the Dawei guards with him are already shuffling impatiently, ready to be back to the residence and off-duty.

A flicker of movement catches Yuan Che's eye as a dark shadow barely visible against the night sky flits over a rooftop in the direction Feiye had gone. He stares up, but nothing is moving now—perhaps it was a bat or a—

Sudden shouts and the clash of metal ring out in the quiet night, and Yuan Che sees the flit of a figure on the rooftop, leaping down to the street in the direction Feiye had gone. He rushes in that direction, his own guards shouting in concern—

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥ VII ◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

"Dianxia."

Yuan Che flings the blankets off in a huff.

His frustration at the constant lack of progress manifests as irritation. He's short-tempered and sullen over breakfast, and his ill temper spreads and Yuan Ming scowls at him in return.

"I'd hoped you would have left this immaturity in Dawei," Jiu-ge snaps at him as Yuan Che unhappily shoves a bite of food into his mouth. Every time he wakes up back here at the beginning he's STARVING.

"Father and our older brothers may have tolerated it, but now that we're in the Tian'ning capital, your behavior reflects directly on Dawei as a whole. Even if you don't want to be here, you'll do what's expected of you as a prince of Dawei," he lectures, and Yuan Che scowls.

"Stop treating me like a child!" he grits out.

"Well you're acting like one with this behavior!" his brother retorts. "You and Yuan Li always were selfish and spoiled—"

"Selfish!?" Yuan Che glares. Jiu-ge dares to call him selfish? "We wouldn't even be here if YOU weren't so selfish! If you'd agreed to marry the A'chai princess we wouldn't need this Tian'ning alliance in the first place!" he shouts the last bit and only feels slightly guilty for lashing out at one of his older brothers.

Yuan Ming slams a cup down onto the table hard enough to crack it, and Yuan Che flees the hall before their fight can turn physical (again).

He feels much better after having a small cry in his bedroom while Yi Huai runs interference and keeps everyone out. The tears carry out his frustrations and leave him feeling balanced and clear-headed.

Yi Huai fusses over his reddened eyes and orders a servant to bring a cool cloth which Yuan Che presses to his face for several long moments before he begins to dress in the familiar numerous layers for the meeting with his future brother-in-law.

Yuan Che longs to run away, to leave both Tian'ning and this horrible repeating day behind, but he knows that isn't a solution. He has to keep both himself and Feiye alive long enough to...somehow solve the time-curse. Yuan Che pushes the nagging negative thoughts out of his head, takes a deep breath, and goes to face the day (again).

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

"Have a good night, Prince Che," Feiye says shortly, and departs. Yuan Che watches until he disappears around the corner, counts down in his head, and then starts running after him. Yi Huai and the Dawei guards follow with confused shouts, and Yuan Che bursts into a quiet side-street just in time to witness the mysterious figures descend from the roofs and attack Feiye and Xifeng, outnumbering them at least three to one.

Yuan Che hurls himself forward with a shout, heedless of the fact that he doesn't have any weapons beyond a small belt knife that won't be much good against the attackers' swords.

Seeing Yuan Che, Yi Huai, and then the Dawei guards rounding the corner, the attackers hesitate and then flee, melting back into the darkness as quickly as they'd appeared.

Yuan Che sees Feiye preparing to follow them, immediately lunges forward and latches onto his sleeve in a move worthy of Yuan Li, worried that if he lets Feiye out of his sight for even an instant he'll be waking up again that morning.

Feiye tries to shake him off in anger, clearly frustrated at being held back from his pursuit, and Yuan Che babbles nonsense, clinging harder.

"You're not injured are you? Who were those attackers—did you see where they came from? Prince Qin, please let me know if you need any medical treatment—"

Feiye finally gives up on trying to shake Yuan Che off, realizing that the attackers have had enough of a head start to vanish, and grabs the front of his robes instead.

"First you claim my wine is poisoned, and now you appear just in time to stop an attack? How convenient, Prince Che," he says, voice low and angry. "If I were to follow the attackers, where would they lead me? Back to the Dawei residence, perhaps?"

He still has his unsheathed sword in one hand, and the Dawei guards shift nervously, glancing at Yuan Che and then Yi Huai for orders. Xifeng hovers beside Feiye, eyeing the Dawei guards, and nudging Feiye's elbow. Feiye releases Yuan Che and everyone relaxes minutely.

"Please trust me," Yuan Che whispers, but he knows how futile it is. Feiye is paranoid enough not to drink wine on the off-chance it might be poisoned, but there's no way he'll give his trust easily. At last he steps back and sheathes his sword in one smooth gesture.

He turns and leaves without a further word, Xifeng hastening after his retreating form after a shallow bow in Yuan Che's direction. Yuan Che stands motionless, staring after Feiye, even as his guards urge him to return to the residence, saying the streets of Tian'ning clearly aren't safe at night.

Yuan Che returns to the residence, but he doesn't fall asleep until late into the night, too worried that when he wakes up it won't be tomorrow.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Despite the late night, Yuan Che wakes up early. A wave of relief washes over him—there's no Yi Huai hovering, the light is streaming through the window at a different angle, and yesterday is truly yesterday .

He sends Yi Huai out early, with instructions to watch Han Yunxi's house and follow her to a meeting at the Xiaohu Teahouse with "a woman who looks like a lady's maid." This Yi Huai, who has no idea who Han Yunxi is or why Yuan Che cares about her meetings, looks confused but obeys without question. He's followed far stranger orders from Yuan Che in the past.

Breakfast is a silent affair as Yuan Ming still isn't speaking to him after their fight the previous day, and Yuan Che isn't feeling charitable enough to mend their differences yet.

One of his brother's attendants informs him of the schedule for the day: a visit to a tailor for the final fitting of his wedding robes, a meeting with the empress dowager, then Feiye's mother has invited him to a walk in the gardens, an afternoon tour of the Tian'ning capital with Feiye, and finally his presence is requested at the palace for an evening spent watching a traditional Tian'ning operatic performance.

Yuan Che departs for the tailor's workshop with his stomach twisting into knots at the thought of the busy day and how many unforeseen attempts on Feiye's life it might hold.

Inside the workshop of one of the most respected tailors in the city Yuan Che stands immobile, draped in red, while several workers flutter around him.

"Don't slouch, young man!" The most wizened of the group barks at him, slapping him on the back. Yuan Che squeaks and straightens to his full height. The much smaller man tuts in approval and climbs onto a stool to fuss with the drape of the fabric over Yuan Che's chest and shoulders. Even on the stool he's slightly shorter than Yuan Che.

"You young people getting taller every day..." he mutters to himself before prodding at Yuan Che's shoulder. "Stretch your arms out; I need to see how these sleeves fall."

Across the airy and brightly lit room Yuan Che can see another swath of red fabric being worked on by a cluster of apprentices with bowed heads and deftly moving hands. He wonders if those are Long Feiye's wedding robes.

The wedding itself had been pushed out of his thoughts by the time curse, but seeing the bright red of the robes brings it back in a rush. He'll be getting married tomorrow (if he manages to keep both himself and his betrothed alive until then, an annoying voice that sounds a lot like Yuan Li whispers at the back of his mind). He'll be getting married and then...then...his mind shies away from any of the equally terrifying options to consider as a follow-up.

The wedding night.

Moving into his husband's household.

Surviving the Tian'ning court and capital, which appear just as deadly as Dawei's imperial court, and here Yuan Che has none of his friends, network, or careful collection of favors-owed to ease the way.

Yi Huai arrives back from his Han Yunxi stalking mission halfway through the fitting, and murmurs his report to Yuan Che as he helps him back into his outer robes once the tailors are satisfied and release him.

"I followed Han Yunxi from her residence, and she went to the Xiaohu Teahouse just as you expected, Dianxia. She waited a long time and it was clear she was getting angry. When another woman did show up, their meeting was brief and it seemed like they were arguing. I'm afraid I couldn't get close enough to hear what was said," Yi Huai scowls.

"Han Yunxi stormed out, and I followed the other woman—as you said, she did seem like a lady's maid. She made one stop at a nearby cosmetics shop where she purchased several items and then...she entered the palace through the southwestern gate. I'm sorry, Dianxia, I couldn't see the token she used to enter." Yi Huai's voice is crisp and impassive but his frustration is evident in the way he sharply tugs Yuan Che's robes straight.

"That's fine," Yuan Che reassures him, although his heart sinks. This information narrows down the options to...everyone who resides in the palace. The entire imperial harem. Anyone high-ranking enough to send a maid out on an errand with their own entrance token while they visit the palace. He sighs.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Long Feiye is waiting when Yuan Che arrives at the palace for the meeting with the empress dowager, and they're immediately whisked forward by a cluster of attendants who lead them through several courtyards and the doors of the large hall the empress dowager uses to receive visitors.

They are shown into a receiving hall glinting with so much gold that Yuan Che almost feels the need to squint. The empress dowager sits on a chair placed on a platform just high enough to make her guests feel less like visitors and more like petitioners. Feiye bows formally in greeting and Yuan Che follows suit, sneaking glances out of the corners of his eyes at the luxurious fabrics, expensive glass beaded curtain, and rows of attendants waiting motionlessly with their eyes downcast and hands folded formally.

"Xiao Si, welcome," the empress dowager greets Feiye with a smile.

"Muhou," Feiye's greeting is clipped, polite, and devoid of any other emotion.

"And Prince Che," she turns to Yuan Che and he feels a prickle at the back of his neck at the way absolutely none of the warmth in her smile reaches her eyes.

"Empress Dowager," he returns her greeting.

"Nonsense," she waves the words aside, smile never changing. "You are betrothed to my Xiao Si; you may address me as your future mother-in-law." Yuan Che nods hesitantly.

She returns her gaze to Feiye. "The emperor your brother is waiting for you in Qinzheng Hall. Prince Che, why don't you stay here while Prince Qin speaks with the emperor? I'd appreciate the chance to get to know you better."

"Of course, Empre– Muhou," Yuan Che bows in agreement, feeling like a deer with the hunters closing in. "I would be delighted."

Feiye leaves without a backward glance. Yuan Che doesn't bother trying to keep the hints of anxiety off of his face.

He has never bothered to hide his emotions behind a stony mask the way Si-ge or some of his other brothers do (although Si-ge does it best, of course). It takes too much energy to keep up a lie or conceal his feelings, and he'd rather put that energy toward something useful like ensuring that Si-ge's manor doesn't completely run out of funds or planning an intelligence mission to surveil the enemy's patrol habits between their forts.

Besides, being honest ninety-nine times out of one hundred makes the one other time that much more effective.

So he doesn't try to hide his uncertainty as he glances at Feiye's retreating form and then back to the empress dowager's regal and condescending gaze.

He drops his eyes and stares at the ornate carving on her chair as her own eyes sweep over him. He shrinks slightly, shoulders hunching as is their habit when he feels anxious.

"Come, take a seat, Prince Che," the empress dowager says—the sharp steel of a command covered only with the thinnest silk of polite request. Yuan Che takes a seat.

A flick of her hand brings two of the attendants scurrying forward to lay out a small plate of delicate desserts and pour them cups of steaming tea.

Yuan Che fidgets with his sleeve nervously.

"I do hope your journey wasn't too taxing," the empress dowager comments, taking a small sip of tea. "It is a pity your arrival was so delayed and you won't have time to settle into Tian'ning before your wedding."

Yuan Che nods and makes a vague noise of agreement. The empress dowager leans toward him slightly, voice taking on a sympathetic lilt.

"In truth, I feel somewhat responsible for your welfare here," she says and Yuan Che blinks up at her, eyes widening in surprise. "After all, I was the one to suggest this union as a possibility to the emperor." She doesn't wait for a response, content to monopolize the conversation while Yuan Che sits silently.

"Feiye has been spending so much time at the borders or on campaign with the army. We thought it would be pleasant for him to spend some time in the capital, relaxing, and have a chance to settle down." She smiles at him as though inviting him to share her opinion and Yuan Che nods obediently.

He connects what she's said to what he knows of Tian'ning's political situation. They want Feiye close to home, to keep an eye on him. They want him away from the troops that, after ten years under his command, are far more loyal to him than to the imperial throne. They want him trapped in a political marriage that will give the emperor even more excuses to scrutinize and dictate Feiye's actions under a guise of maintaining good relations with Dawei. The fact that he and Yuan Che will not be producing any heirs is probably a bonus.

No wonder Feiye looks at him like he's a set of prison chains.

"But in my concern for Feiye's welfare I'm afraid I may have neglected yours," the empress dowager gives him a sympathetic smile. "Sent away from your childhood home, leaving behind everything and everyone you've known...I felt the same way when I married the late emperor and moved into the imperial palace."

Although Yuan Che is confident that none of her sympathy is genuine, it still strikes too close to home.

"I'm honored by your concern, Empr– Muhou." He lets his shoulders shrink in a little further and his voice shake. It isn't hard to make his eyes slightly damp when he glances up quickly to meet her gaze and then drops his eyes to his lap. The prickle at the back of his neck is back, warning him to be wary of the empress dowager.

"I know exactly how you must be feeling," the empress dowager continues, and Yuan Che seriously doubts that. "I hope you know that you can come to me for help any time you need. Consider me your friend and guide here in the Tian'ning court; I will be happy to help you in any way I can."

Yuan Che wonders what the price of her help would be.

"Thank you for your kind offer," he manages, forcing a small smile.

"It will be a great comfort to me to have someone in Prince Qin's household who can tell me honestly if the poor boy is overworking himself," she continues. To report to her about Feiye's activities, Yuan Che thinks.

"Come, drink your tea and tell me your impressions of Tian'ning," she orders, settling back in her chair and smiling in satisfaction when Yuan Che quickly obeys.

Yuan Che exits the hall in relief when he's finally dismissed from the empress dowager's presence, and finds Yi Huai waiting outside the doors with a collection of other guards, attendants, and imperial eunuchs. His face is carefully blank but Yuan Che can see that he's almost vibrating with the need to say something.

They move away from the empress dowager's pavilion and Yuan Che slows to let their guide draw ahead.

"I saw her—the woman from this morning," Yi Huai hisses. "She and a group of other maids came out of the hall just after you and Prince Qin entered. I'm certain it was her!"

Somehow Yuan Che isn't surprised that his impression of the empress dowager as an enemy of Feiye is correct. He gives Yi Huai a short nod and they walk in silence, Yuan Che's mind busy turning over the possibilities.

Does the empress dowager know about Feiye's gu affliction? Had she been trying to trigger an attack?

Or did she merely suspect and wanted to confirm her suspicions (if so, her choice of public venue must be significant).

Or was it possible that, as Han Yunxi had claimed, the poison had only been intended to make the wine's drinker become roaringly drunk and make a fool of himself. Of themselves, he corrects—Jiu-ge drank the wine as well.

The empress dowager has enough power to influence the guards and crossbowmen at the banquet. If her plan was not just to reveal Feiye's gu affliction but kill him as well, then perhaps when her plan failed she sent the attackers after him that night as a secondary measure.

Yuan Che's head hurts, and he drags his thoughts away from plans and murderous schemes. He has enough to worry about given his next meeting: with Feiye's mother.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Yuan Che and Yi Huai are led into a large garden courtyard with a small stream cutting through it, feeding a pond where flickers of red and gold koi dart beneath the water. An open-sided square pagoda perches half over the water, decorated with lavender silk drapes that flutter in the breeze.

Yi Huai takes a place among the other guards and attendants spaced along the covered walkway winding alongside the courtyard's walls, and Yuan Che follows the attendant along a smooth stone path toward the pond.

"Please have a seat, Prince Che," the attendant gestures with a bow to the table and low chairs that have been arranged in the center of the pagoda. Hot water for tea and several covered trays are already waiting. "I will inform the imperial consort of your arrival."

He has no idea what to expect from Consort Yi, especially after the meeting with the empress dowager. Yuan Che is lost in thought, staring blankly at the koi swimming in the pond below, when Dowager Consort Yi arrives. He jumps to his feet, bows a greeting, and then freezes as Consort Yi sweeps gracefully up the steps of the pagoda.

"Prince Che," she greets, inclining her head, and even her voice is somehow familiar.

She looks so much like his mother.

Yuan Che is shocked by the sudden swell of longing that rises up his throat, choking it until he can't speak. To his embarrassment his eyes begin to feel watery too. Consort Yi's brow furrows.

"My apologies," he manages to choke out.

Faced with her concerned expression, the truth spills out.

"You just reminded me so much of...of my own mother..." he trails off.

"Is she...?" her voice is delicate and sincere, nothing like the empress dowager's false warmth.

"She passed away. When I was a child." It's an old pain, softened by time, and he hadn't expected it to flare this suddenly and sharply—not here away from the usual culprits like pale dawn light illuminating one of his mother's embroidered wall hangings at the perfect angle, or the sudden scent of her favorite perfume inside a chest he hasn't opened for years.

Consort Yi takes a seat and politely busies herself with the tea while Yuan Che uses the sleeve of an inner layer to deal with the wetness of his eyes.

"Thank you," he says quietly when she slides the tea and a plate of sliced fruit across the table to him. "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Dowager Consort Yi."

Unlike the empress dowager, she doesn't insist on a more familiar form of address, and Yuan Che is relieved.

Instead, Consort Yi takes pity on him and leads the conversation through a series of light topics covering his travels to Tian'ning, the weather, and the entertainment at the banquet the night before. Despite having attended the banquet numerous times, Yuan Che had never noticed her among the other guests. But he was rather distracted by other things.

He's just started to relax into the conversation and taken a bite of tangerine when Consort Yi attacks.

"So, what are your impressions of Prince Qin?" Her tone is mild but her eyes are sharp, and Yuan Che hastily swallows the mouthful of fruit.

"He's..."

Terrifying when he's been poisoned and is tearing me apart in murderous rage.

Clearly uninterested in both me and this marriage.

Extremely handsome.

(He does not say.)

"He's not very talkative." A tentative and non-committal answer, but Consort Yi seems to find it sufficient. She smiles softly.

"Long Feiye is a good man who doesn't deserve the many terrible things that have happened in his life," she says. "He's built up the armor around his heart out of necessity, and I know how he appears unapproachable at first. But once someone enters his heart, they never leave. He cares too deeply for that." She meets and holds Yuan Che's eyes. "I may not have much power, but I'll do everything I can to see him safe and happy."

Unlike the empress dowager's smiling words, it's not a threat so much as a statement of fact and promise. Yuan Che swallows.

Consort Yi pats Yuan Che's arm. "But don't worry; I think Feiye will like you once you get to know each other."

"Really?" It's more plaintive than Yuan Che intends. Consort Yi smiles.

"I saw him watching you at the banquet, and then I heard he escorted you out of the palace and into the city," Consort Yi comments. She doesn't mention the assassination attempt, and Yuan Che wonders if it's tact or if news of the attack hasn't spread. "Something about you caught his attention—not an easy feat with how busy he is." A twist of her lips makes it clear she disapproves of Feiye's business. Yuan Che looks down at his tea. He can't exactly explain that the reason Feiye was paying attention to him is because he suspected Dawei of poisoning his wine.

"I know you didn't choose this marriage. I don't expect true love, or even passion; I know those are all too rare among imperial matches, especially those like yours, arranged as a symbol of unity between nations. But I hope, despite its origins, you and my son can shape your marriage into one based on respect and care for each other's happiness."

"You're right, I didn't want this marriage," Yuan Che says quietly, Consort Yi's sincerity inspiring his own honestly. "But...I'll try. Both for Dawei and for myself. I don't want him to hate me," he admits in a small voice. Now that he's met Feiye, he's less worried about his early fears of a husband who intentionally makes him miserable. It seems more likely that Feiye will simply banish him from his presence and ignore the fact that he has a husband entirely.

"He won't hate you," Consort Yi says confidently, eyes darting over Yuan Che's shoulder. "And I'm certain my son will do his best in this marriage, too, won't he?" Yuan Che's head snaps around to where Feiye is standing silently at the base of the pagoda's steps. Yuan Che reddens; how long had he been standing there?

Feiye greets them both politely, approaching to let Consort Yi squeeze his hands in welcome. His dark eyes linger on Yuan Che, who looks at the table instead.

"Will you join us for some tea?" Consort Yi asks, gesturing to the table.

"No thank you," Feiye declines. "I had tea with the emperor just now."

"A stroll in the gardens, then," Consort Yi says. "Prince Che, will you escort me?"

"Oh, I, um," Yuan Che hurries to rise, eyes darting between Feiye and his mother. Consort Yi impassively hooks her arm through his and sweeps them both down the steps of the pagoda and onto the garden path, Feiye following behind them. Yuan Che walks stiffly beside the dowager consort, conscious of Feiye's eyes boring into the back of his head.

Consort Yi leads them at a sedate pace along the path around the pond to a stone bridge arching over the stream. She pauses, looking out over the burbling water and the lotuses that cluster at the edges of the pond.

"Feiye got drunk and went swimming in this pond once," she says out of nowhere, and Yuan Che stares at her, wide-eyed in shock while Feiye lets out an audible sigh behind them.

"He'd just turned eighteen—"

"Sixteen."

"—and was back in the capital after several months at the northern border. A few days before, I'd mentioned that I'd lost one of my favorite hairpins over the side of the pagoda after setting it on the edge and forgetting about it. After a little too much wine one night Feiye decided to brave the fish and get it back for me." Consort Yi smiles fondly at Feiye and Yuan Che gapes, looking between them.

Feiye gives his mother an unimpressed look, but his eyes are soft, completely different from the cold impatience his expression usually holds.

"Did," Yuan Che's voice stutters as they both turn to look at him. Feiye's gaze returns to its usual harshness, and Yuan Che flinches slightly, turning to the safer option of Consort Yi. "Did he find it?"

"Of course he did! And then came straight from the pond into my residence to give it to me, dripping all over the floor and scaring some of my attendants half to death—he was covered in mud and water plants, and they thought some swamp monster had come to attack them."

Yuan Che can't help it, he laughs loudly at the mental image. A young and drunk Feiye scrounging through the mud for his mother's favorite hairpin and then bringing it directly to her like a cat proud of a leaf it's caught.

He grins brightly, and Consort Yi smiles in return as if pleased by the reaction to her story.

"If you'd like, I can tell you a lot more about Feiye's misspent youth," she offers and Yuan Che laughs again in delight.

"Yes, please!" he begs and hears Feiye make a small noise of protest.

"Mother, please," Feiye's impassive face looks strained. "Leave me some dignity."

Consort Yi smiles warmly, patting Feiye's arm. "You have plenty of dignity," she says. "And your betrothed deserves to know that behind that cold, dignified exterior is a human being. A kind and good man that I'm proud to call my son."

Feiye is the one to look away this time, a pained expression that almost looks like regret flashing across his face for the smallest moment.

After a long circuit of the imperial gardens they make their way back to the entrance where Yi Huai is waiting, now accompanied by Chu Xifeng. They're standing a significant distance apart and carefully not acknowledging the other's presence.

"I hear you'll be giving Prince Che a tour of the city markets now," Consort Yi mentions and Feiye clears his throat.

"That was the plan, but I have several other pressing commitments—"

Consort Yi frowns and Feiye's words trail off. "Feiye. Spend at least a few hours getting to know the man you are going to marry tomorrow," she orders. Feiye is too filial to argue and gives in, bowing formally.

"Of course, Mother."

"It was delightful to meet you, Prince Che," Consort Yi bids Yuan Che farewell. "I look forward to spending more time with you after the wedding."

"Likewise, Dowager Consort Yi," Yuan Che says with a deep bow. Amid all his stress and worry about the wedding, her presence is now a bright spot. He's mostly recovered from the sharp stab of nostalgia and longing that rises in his throat when he catches a glimpse of her profile that looks so similar to his mother's. He thinks that, in the dangerous wild of the Tian'ning court, she's a tiger that will do anything to defend her offspring. Yuan Che is determined to show that he can help her do so.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

They depart for the city markets on horseback, and Yuan Che is thrilled. He's missed riding, and even if this is only a slow trot down busy streets it's far superior to being stuck in the annoying carriage.

After stabling the horses at an inn they venture into the markets, Yi Huai and Xifeng trailing a short distance behind. Yuan Che is so happy to be outside of the suffocating atmosphere of the palace that he almost forgets who he's with, easily ignoring Feiye's presence and taking in the exotic sights and sounds of the Tian'ning city.

Drawn by appealing smells he wanders over to a line of stalls selling various foods and snacks; many are familiar but a few must be Tian'ning specialties. He wants to try them all.

"Would you like one, daren?" a man selling some kind of roast meat on a stick asks, and Yuan Che nods fervently, reaching into his robes for—the purse he doesn't have. He turns to Yi Huai and recalls that Yi Huai doesn't have his purse either; it's safely stored in his room in the guest residence.

He hesitantly turns to Long Feiye.

"What?" Feiye asks as Yuan Che shuffles closer, eyeing him with suspicion. Yuan Che is pleased to see it's a softer suspicion than the glare from the previous night when Feiye had looked a hair away from grabbing Yuan Che's throat and shaking him until the answers he wanted to hear fell out. He's making progress.

"Will you lend me some money?" he asks. "I promise I'll pay you back; I left my purse at my residence and—" he casts a longing glance over at the meat griller, who is now ignoring them.

Feiye stares at him in silence, and Yuan Che adopts his most pitiable expression. Just when he's almost given up hope, Feiye sighs and turns to the stall proprietor, digging a purse out of his robes. He buys a skewer of the heavenly-smelling meat and hands it to Yuan Che, who beams.

It takes them a long while to make it past the street of food-sellers, as every few steps Yuan Che notices something new he has to try. To his delight, Feiye pays for everything he wants.

Even when the sellers recognize him and try to give them things for free with mutters of "Dianxia, please, accept this as a gift," Feiye still always pays the full price.

Yuan Che keeps careful track of how much money Feiye is spending on his behalf; he has no idea what state the man's finances are in, but since he'll soon be part of Feiye's household they'll become his finances, too. He hopes Feiye's accounts are in better shape than Si-ge's.

As they wander through the market, Yuan Che can almost forget the stress of the past days and curse of endless repetition. Out here in the open air, surrounded by the exciting foreign sights and sounds of the market, Tian'ning isn't so bad. It's not as good as Dawei, of course, but it has its charm.

In the center of the market they catch the tail end of a puppet performance that has drawn a sizable audience, standing in the back and peering over the heads of the crowd. A particularly witty punchline draws raucous laughter from the crowd, and an amused snort from Feiye. Yuan Che whips around to stare at him in shock.

"What?"

"You laughed."

"It was funny," Feiye says.

Yuan Che cautiously lets himself think that maybe being married to Long Feiye won't be utterly miserable after all.

The performance ends and Feiye looks at the sun's low position in the sky, now casting their shadows in elongated smudges over the cobbles of the square.

"We should be getting back to the palace," he says. Yuan Che nods in agreement, already dreading the return to the formality, the stress of his upcoming wedding, his brother's cutting comments.

Feiye collects Xifeng with a glance, and the four of them make their way back to the inn where they'd left the horses, slipping into a side street to avoid the crowded market thoroughfare.

They're almost to the inn when Feiye suddenly whirls, lashing out with a blast of qi that sends a small knife clattering to the stones of the street. He shoves Yuan Che sideways into the wall on the side of the alley, and Yuan Che stumbles into a stack of wicker baskets. The street is suddenly a swarm of dark-clad figures rushing toward them.

Yi Huai and Xifeng are shouting, struggling to hold off attackers approaching from behind, and Feiye is a blur in the middle of the alley, fighting at least four of the figures simultaneously, his sword weaving in a deadly dance.

Yuan Che casts about wildly for a weapon of any sort, and then pauses, staring at the fighters. Something about their movements is familiar.

His eyes widen—they're using Liang techniques. And not just casually; he recognizes the specific footwork and way they're fighting in pairs, one sliding in to attack while the other twists around to follow up. They're clearly from the Liang empire and they're elite and well-trained, not just common thugs.

The fight is moving down the alley as Yi Huai and Xifeng are driven back towards Feiye. Several of Feiye's opponents lie lifeless on the street, but more dart in to take their places. Yuan Che hears Yi Huai cry out in pain and sees him stagger back, blood from a cut dripping into his eyes. He tries to wipe his forehead with his sleeve but his moment of distraction is leaving him open to—

"Yi Huai!" Yuan Che flings himself forward, ducking under a blade to tug Yi Huai out of danger at the last second. Behind him Feiye is swearing, shouting at him to get out of the way, and then Yuan Che is surrounded, the Liang assassins attacking from all sides. A sword blade flies towards his head, slamming into his skull with a white burst of pain—

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥ VIII ◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

—Yuan Che ducks the sword and then he's back to back with Yi Huai, snatching the sword he insisted Yi Huai dig out of storage and carry around for him all day.

Feiye is occupied with his own group of assassins, a graceful whirl, his blade flashing in the late afternoon sun.

Yuan Che himself is a frantic scramble of blocking and dodging as he and Yi Huai are forced away from the building into the center of the narrow street.

An explosion of acrid smoke makes Yuan Che stagger, eyes stinging and vision blurring. Through the tears he sees Feiye twist suddenly, lashing out with his sword as though to block an attack but there's nothing there...?

Feiye claps a hand to the side of his neck as he stumbles a step backward, and Yuan Che can see the thin glint of metal between his fingers as Feiye crumples to his knees—

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥ IX ◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

—His eyes still watering from the smoke Yuan Che is running blindly towards Feiye, but he's too far away.

"Get down!" he shouts, and Feiye's eyes widen. It's too late, he's a heartbeat too slow, the needle slams into the exposed skin of Feiye's neck and Yuan Che catches him as he slumps to the ground—

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥ X ◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

—Yuan Che is running even before the explosion sends him staggering, coughing from the smoke and half-blind as his eyes water. He's still too far away. Any second now Feiye will sense the needle and start to turn, but he'll be just a hair too slow, he's always too slow—in desperation, Yuan Che throws his sword. Feiye's eyes widen in shock and then realization as the needle slams into him because Yuan Che missed he knew it was coming but he was too slow, always too slow—

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥ XI ◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

"Dianxia."

Yuan Che rolls over, buries his face in the bedding, and shouts a string of the filthiest curses he knows. When he surfaces, Yi Huai looks almost impressed. It fades to concern as he gets a good look at Yuan Che's face.

"Dianxia, what's wrong? Are you ill?"

Yuan Che feels ill. He's sick and tired of it all.

He's tired of greeting the emperor and listening to the flowery speeches about unions and cooperation and how this alliance will lead both of their (already great) nations to further heights. He's tired of playing the fool for the empress dowager, nodding along in agreement to everything she says as she smiles at him like she's not actively trying to kill his future husband.

And he's especially tired of Long Feiye's distance, how every time he wakes up at the beginning of the day, he's back to a Feiye with cold, mistrustful eyes who's already halfway to viewing Yuan Che as an accomplice in the threats against his life.

He keeps his distance from Feiye for two reasons: one, if he pushes too hard, too fast, Feiye withdraws even further, suspicious of Yuan Che's intentions. And two: he can't bring himself to get closer to Feiye, not when he knows that tomorrow he might be seeing him stumble and drop to his knees, a poisoned needle in his neck and the sharp intelligence fading from his eyes.

But the more days Yuan Che repeats, the more hints he sees of Feiye's personality and dry humor. The way his eyes soften when he speaks with his mother proves the existence of emotions behind his usual cold and stern mask. The few times Yuan Che's heard Feiye's small laugh are engraved in his mind, and he wavers between keeping Feiye at arm's length and fluttering closer like a moth to a flame.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

After meeting the Tian'ning emperor and returning to the residence, Yuan Che quickly sheds the heavy formal robes and orders Yi Huai out into the courtyard with him. He drags one of the wooden training posts into the center and spends a few moments positioning it, pacing off distances, checking the angles.

He hands a packet of thin needles to Yi Huai who stares at them in bemusement. Yuan Che sends him up to the roof, repositions the wooden post slightly, and then commands Yi Huai to shoot the needles at the post while he throws his sword to block them again and again and again until he can knock the needle out of the air nine times out of ten. It should be good enough; it will have to be enough, it must be enough...

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Yuan Che's sword knocks the needle out of the air and Long Feiye doesn't hesitate, leaping for the attacker on the rooftop who shot it, shouting to Xifeng that he wants prisoners (alive). The assassin draws a sword, but now that his element of surprise is gone, he's no match for Feiye.

Feiye catches him with a slash in the arm and then the leg, quickling disarming and bringing the assassin to his knees on the tiled roof. He grabs the man by the throat and flings him down to the street below as the few attackers who still live flee, Xifeng and Yi Huai in hot pursuit. Feiye leaps down from the roof in a graceful bound, pouncing on their single prisoner who is scrambling towards one of the dropped swords.

Feiye grabs the assassin, twisting one arm up behind his back and pulling him up to his knees, sword at his throat. Yuan Che steps in front of him, folding his arms and hoping his height makes him look intimidating.

"Who ordered the attack on Prince Qin?" he demands and the assassin's eyes sweep over him.

"You must be Prince Che... so your brother finally got sick of you? Does Prince Qin know he's getting Yuan Ling's trash—"

Yuan Che's fingers clench on his robes as he struggles not to let the words affect him.

"Who ordered the attack? Is the Liang kingdom so threatened by a Dawei-Tian'ning alliance your king is risking outright war with this attack?" he demands again.

The assassin laughs at him. "Fortunately not everyone in Tian'ning is as short-sighted as those who would choose to ally themselves with Dawei," he spits the name and begins to laugh again even as Feiye brings his sword up to press the edge of the blade against the soft skin of the man's neck.

The assassin continues laughing, harder and harder, until he's no longer laughing he's choking on dark blood that drips down his chin as he goes limp. Feiye lets go and the assassin's body falls, sprawling on the street, lifeless.Yuan Che uses the tip of his sword to open the half-clenched fingers of the man's hand and glass shards clink as they drop to the stones. They're stained with blood and an oily liquid—he must have crushed the glass vial in his fist to cut himself and allow the poison to enter his blood.

Feiye mutters a soft curse, swiftly checking the other bodies that litter the street to see if any have survived. None have, and Feiye's angry expression fades into something blank but no less murderous. Yuan Che unconsciously takes a step back when Feiye turns to him, and then forces himself to hold his ground. The way the assassin had reacted to his comment...

"They...they must be sent by the empress dowager, right?" he asks, glancing at Feiye for confirmation. "She poisoned the wine at the banquet." He'd been so sure the assassins were her secondary plan for if the poisoned wine failed to reveal Feiye as gu-afflicted and get rid of him simultaneously in one convenient package.

Feiye crouches down and examines one of the fallen assassins more closely, peering at the man's face and dark clothing.

"These fighters aren't from Tian'ning," he comments. "You mentioned the Liang kingdom." He rises and stares at Yuan Che. "Explain."

"They're from the Liang kingdom," Yuan Che says quickly. Feiye's eyes don't waver, boring into his own, and Yuan Che hurries to explain more. "I recognized the fighting style. I've spent years at the border fighting Liang forces, and the pair-style attacks they were doing—that's something unique to Liang training. But only elite fighters learn those attacks. These are trained assassins, not common soldiers. They would answer only to the Liang crown itself."

A solo Liang attacker might be a deserter, but a cohesive group like this? They had been officially organized and supplied, and they hadn't tried to hide it. Their clothes, their weapons...one didn't need to see them fight to recognize they were from the Liang kingdom. It was possible the Liang king had sent them of his own accord with orders to kill Feiye and break up the Dawei-Tian'ning alliance but...

The assassin had said 'not everyone in Tian'ning is so short-sighted.' Yuan Che has the sinking realization that there's more to the assassins, another player at the board shifting pieces that he's missing.

"Could they be..." he hesitates. "Could they be working with someone in Tian'ning? Someone who doesn't want the Dawei-Tian'ning alliance to succeed?"

The alliance doesn't hinge solely on the marriage, of course, but killing Feiye before the wedding would deal it a massive blow. Tian'ning would either have to supply someone else for Yuan Che to marry—and it's already strange enough that he's been sent to wed a man, any alliance with a Tian'ning princess would surely require her to move into his household in Dawei instead—or agree to proceed without a marriage symbolic of the alliance. Or dissolve the proposed alliance entirely, renegotiating the terms of a future agreement which could take months or even years. Precious time that Si-ge and Dawei do NOT have, not with the Liang being so bold as to even send assassins into Tian'ning...

"It seems likely," Feiye agrees grimly.

Yi Huai and Xifeng arrive back at that moment, looking chagrined. They had no luck catching the escaping attackers. Yuan Che goes to find the needle he knocked aside, picking it up carefully with a handkerchief given how swift and deadly whatever poison it's painted with is known to be.

He wants to get any information he can about the poison just in case... there's a next time. He shudders at the thought.

Fortunately he knows just the person to ask...

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Chu Xifeng stays behind to deal with the deceased assassins, and as Yuan Che, Long Feiye, and Yi Huai approach the Han residence Feiye peels off, springing up to a roof in a near-silent whisper of robes and vanishing over the tiled peak. The main gates to the Han residence are still open despite the swiftly approaching sunset, and Yuan Che takes a deep breath, exchanges a quick nod with Yi Huai to confirm their plan, and draws himself up to his full height.

He strides directly into the courtyard, startling the household servants who are busy there, and folds his arms in front of his chest.

"I am Prince Che of Dawei," Yuan Che announces, acting every inch the spoiled prince Jiu-ge accuses him of being. He looks down his nose at the closest servant, now clutching the broom she was sweeping with a moment ago like she's not certain whether to bow or use it to chase him out of the gates. "Summon Han Yunxi to my presence immediately!"

The servants retreat nervously to the far side of the courtyard, and the one Yuan Che had addressed drops her broom and dashes into the house. She returns almost immediately with an older woman who is certainly not Han Yunxi; a gaggle of other servants and younger family members who could be Yunxi's siblings follow in her wake, gawking at him.

"Who are you? Where is Han Yunxi?" Yuan Che demands loudly, scowling at the woman, who drops into a deep obeisance.

"Prince Che!" Her voice is simpering and nervous. "You are most welcome in our humble home. I am the lady of the house, wife of Chief Imperial Physician Han Congan; Han Yunxi is my step-daughter—"

"I'm not interested in your husband, Han-furen," Yuan Che cuts her off quickly. "I require a meeting with Han Yunxi, whose medical abilities I have heard a great deal about. Immediately."

"If you are here seeking medical treatment, my husband IS the chief imperial physician. If Your Highness would care to step inside for some tea, I'll have him sent for from the palace right away—"

Yuan Che puts on his most petulant face and scowls, refusing to budge from his position in the courtyard despite Han-furen's attempts to usher him inside. At last she relents and hurries back into the house. She returns not long after pulling Yunxi along with her. Han-furen's low voice drifts through the open door before they appear.

"—don't know how, but whatever he wants, you do it, girl, do you hear me— ahaha, Prince Che, thank you for your patience." Han-furen's voice shifts instantly from angry to obsequious as she drags Yunxi forward. "May I present my step-daughter, Han Yunxi."

"Prince Che," Yunxi bobs a polite greeting, eyes flicking between Yuan Che, Yi Huai, and her step-mother. "We're deeply honored by your visit. My workshop is this way, if you'll follow me?"

Yuan Che strides forward immediately, Yi Huai, Han-furen, and the rest of the family close behind the entire way, seemingly intent on following them right into the workshop. Yuan Che and Yi Huai communicate with a glance, and when they reach the workshop Yi Huai smoothly slides in front and shuts the doors firmly behind Yuan Che and Yunxi. Yuan Che can hear protests from Han-furen through the door and Yi Huai firmly replying that Prince Che has come on a private matter, and they WILL be moving away from the door now if they know what's good for them.

The protesting voices fade, and Yuan Che glances around the room as Yunxi seats herself behind a low table.

"Please have a seat, Prince Che," she says politely, gesturing to the cushion before the table. She looks slightly nervous, and Yuan Che wonders if she thinks he's there about the wine.

Yuan Che sits down slowly, stalling by arranging his robes. Feiye suddenly swings in through the window, landing lightly beside the table. Yunxi jumps, but when Yuan Che doesn't react she scowls at them both.

"Why can't your guard use the door like normal people?" she complains, and Feiye stares at her coldly while Yuan Che holds back a laugh. She clearly doesn't know who Feiye is.

"I need a poison identified, and I've heard a great deal about your skills in this area." Yuan Che says, pulling the cloth-wrapped needle carefully out of his belt where he'd stored it. "It's extremely deadly and acts more quickly than anything I've ever encountered." Yunxi is leaning forward, eyes fixed on the cloth in curiosity. Yuan Che pulls it back towards himself when she reaches for it. "I ALSO," he narrows his eyes, "need the true purpose of my visit here to remain confidential."

Yunxi folds her hands neatly on the table in front of her and gives him a shrewd look. "I presume you are offering something in exchange?"

From the corner of his eye, Yuan Che sees Feiye scowl and hurries to speak. "I'm willing to negotiate." He mentally opens his account ledgers, prepared to bargain.

"Oh, I'm not interested in money, Prince Che," Yunxi says. She takes a deep breath. "I hear Prince Qin doesn't have a physician in residence at his manor. I want you to hire me as your personal doctor—"

"No."

Yunxi scowls at Feiye, who had spoken. "I wasn't asking you ."

Yuan Che struggles to keep his face blank and Feiye snorts loudly, turning away to examine the many scrolls and small pots of herbs arranged on a large shelf along the wall. "Don't touch those!" Yunxi calls loudly at him, and turns back to Yuan Che. "It's not unusual for a newlywed couple to bring in a personal physician or midwife for their first year of marriage. Of course, in your case I don't think you'll be looking for someone with midwifery experience—"

"Who is this?" Feiye interrupts, voice holding some strange note Yuan Che has never heard before. Yuan Che turns and sees Feiye staring intently at a slightly faded portrait on the wall.

"That's my mother," Yunxi says, voice taking on a note of pride. "She's also a skilled healer—this was her workshop. I've studied all her texts as well as expanded the library!" She focuses on Yuan Che once more, rushing to list her qualifications. "I'm skilled with all types of medicines, and I can make tinctures and pills—I can also detoxify via acupuncture and—"

"Why do you want to work in Qin Manor?" Yuan Che asks bluntly. "So you can have access to my wine every day?"

Yunxi freezes for a moment, eyes widening. Yuan Che blinks innocently and Yunxi visibly pulls herself together and forges ahead.

"My family hates me, and I hate them," she says bluntly. "It's either marriage or being employed as a manor's private physician to get out of here, and I have no interest in the former." Yuan Che detects no hint of a lie in that, but he's still not about to invite someone into Feiye's household who—

"One year."

Both Yuan Che and Yunxi gape at Feiye. He stares hard at Yunxi and continues. "You may have one year's trial period as the Qin Manor resident physician. But if you don't prove your skills within that year, you're out." Yuan Che stares in disbelief, flummoxed by Feiye's sudden change of heart. Is he planning something? Is he lying outright to hurry things along?

"Who—?" Yunxi is glaring at Feiye again and then Yuan Che, as though they are playing a trick on her. Yuan Che sighs.

"This is Long Feiye, Prince Qin," he introduces, and Yunxi's head whips back to stare at Feiye, her eyes widening. She laughs slightly in disbelief.

"Really? I can be the Qin Manor resident doctor?!"

"One year as a trial period. But if I hear even the smallest rumor about our visit today the deal is off."

"Of course, Dianxia!" she nods vigorously. "Not a whisper! Now let me see the poison; there's no poison I can't identify!" she states it like a fact, with complete confidence. Yuan Che slides the small bundle across the table, and Yunxi carefully unwraps it, leaning forward to inspect the thin needle within. Feiye approaches to stand over Yuan Che's shoulder, watching intently.

While working Yunxi is focused and absorbed, ignoring their presence entirely as she examines the needle, picking it up with a pair of fine metal tongs and running her fingers slightly above it in a way that makes her bracelet glint oddly in the light from the lamps.

She scrapes some of the poison off the needle with a small knife and catches the flakes on a piece of thick paper, adding a drop of liquid and examining it closely. Yuan Che waits impatiently, fingers tapping on his knee while Feiye is as still as stone behind him. Yunxi rummages through a number of books and scrolls and then nods firmly to herself.

"You were right, Dianxia. This poison is deadly—and rare. The amount on this needle would kill almost instantly." Yuan Che can, unfortunately, attest to the accuracy of that. "It's distilled from the roots of the Whitesummer Flower which doesn't grow anywhere near here," Yunxi continues, unrolling a map across half the table and examining it. She draws her finger around a specific area. "You'd have to go halfway into Beili or the Liang kingdom to find it; it only grows in dry rocky terrain. The reason this poison isn't more widely used is because its potency fades quickly after it's distilled." She gestures to the needle on the table. "I'd estimate the stuff on this needle is no more than a few days old. After ten days it will become totally inert. Who wants a poison that becomes useless that fast?"

Who wants a poison at all, Yuan Che wonders.

"It also takes significant effort to create," Yunxi continues. "The roots have to be boiled down for at least four days to extract the resin, and the whole time—" she retrieves a small metal burner containing a few coals from the side of the room and sets it on the table "—it smells like this ." She tips the paper from earlier over the small brazier, allowing the remainder of what she scraped off the needle to fall onto the bright coals. "Don't worry, it's not poisonous after being burned," she hurries to add as a heavy earthy scent fills the room. It reminds Yuan Che of unripe fruits crushed beneath cart wheels and mixed with the dust of the road, and he wrinkles his nose. He hears Feiye inhale sharply behind him. "Anywhere this poison has been distilled will reek of the scent. And the scent will linger on the person and robes of anyone present during the process."

Feiye, who had been standing utterly still throughout Yunxi's whole explanation, now moves towards the window. Yuan Che lunges sideways in his seat to grab his sleeve, misses, and grabs a handful of Feiye's skirts instead.

"Where are you going?" he demands.

"I need to confirm something."

"Have you smelled this before? Do you know who was making it?!"

"I have my suspicions," Feiye says, pulling his robes out of Yuan Che's hand.

"Tell me!" Yuan Che begs, but Feiye leaps through the window and away without a backward look, leaving Yuan Che scowling in frustration and Yunxi wide-eyed.

She wraps the needle back up and rises to open the other windows to air out the room. Back at the table she lights a few sticks of incense to cover the lingering smell from the burned poison. Yuan Che watches her swiftly add several dry ingredients to a mortar and grind them into a fine powder. His eyes narrow and he leans closer to peer at the remaining whole ingredients.

"Is that...?"

Yunxi smirks as she divides the powder into two waxed paper slips and twists them closed. She slaps them into Yuan Che's palm. "One each for you and your future husband. Take them on your wedding night and thank me later."

Yuan Che feels his face redden and quickly tucks the medicine packets into his robes, hurrying to depart.

Yunxi darts in front of the door and glares at him. "I'll come a few days after your wedding to finalize the details regarding my employment as the Qin Manor physician!" she threatens, and Yuan Che gives a strained smile. He has no doubt she will be there, and he'll be surprised if she manages to wait "a few days."

As he collects Yi Huai and departs the Han residence, he hears Yunxi's family descend on her.

"What did he want? Is he sick?" one of the young women asks.

Yunxi scoffs. "What are all men worried about on their wedding night? I gave him some 'stamina-enhancing' mixtures. He'll be fine." Yuan Che hears incredulous giggles and hurries away, blushing bright red. He's sure gossip about the Dawei prince's wedding night woes will be all over the city by the next day. At least the sacrifice of his pride will keep suspicion away from Feiye and whatever he's doing to track down the possible poison-maker.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Feiye doesn't attend the Tian'ning opera performance that night, and Yuan Che vacillates between boredom (although the singers are very skilled) and worry, terrified that something will happen to Feiye.

He sends Yi Huai to Qin Manor to see if there's any news, but when Yi Huai returns he grumpily tells Yuan Che that he couldn't get anyone to let him into Feiye's manor or even confirm if he was actually there or not.

Yuan Che finally goes to bed, desperately hoping that he'll wake up tomorrow and not yesterday.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

To his relief, Yuan Che does wake up tomorrow.

The day of his wedding has finally arrived.

In the late morning he and Long Feiye visit the Imperial Ancestral Temple to pay their respects to the previous emperor, Feiye's father. Yuan Che is desperate to ask if Feiye has discovered anything related to the assassins or who might be working with the Liang kingdom, but he and Feiye never have a moment alone, constantly surrounded by dozens of others from the imperial family and court.

In the temple as they make the ritual bows and offerings Feiye seems even more stone-faced than usual, subtle tension in the set of his shoulders. When Yuan Che catches his eye hoping to communicate "you've discovered who ordered the assassination attempt and are going to tell me everything, right?" he's met with a deep rage smoldering in Feiye's gaze. Yuan Che swallows and doesn't meet his eyes again.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

The afternoon is spent at the guest residence where Yuan Che packs up the last few of his personal belongings and adds them to the pile of trunks and crates that will be delivered to Feiye's manor by that evening.

He sits while an attendant combs perfumed oil into his hair, staring across the room at the red robes carefully draped over a wooden stand, waiting for him. Yuan Che feels surprisingly calm about his imminent wedding. Perhaps because, instead of the two days he would have had to contemplate it had time progressed naturally, he's had weeks instead.

The attendant pulls his hair up, winding it into the familiar tight topknot, and two others bring over several small boxes of jewelry and a massive ornate headdress crafted by Dawei jewelers. Yuan Che sits motionlessly, letting them figure out how to attach it to his hair, and staring at the red robes until his eyes slip out of focus and they stretch into a blurry smear of crimson across his field of vision.

At last, fully dressed and burdened by so many layers and so much gold jewelry he feels like he's doubled in weight, it's time to depart. On the way out Yi Huai cautions him to duck so he doesn't knock the headdress off his head when passing through the doorway. For once Yuan Che is glad of the carriage, since he thinks if he had to walk he'd lose more than half the hairpins and then the entire hair ornament on the way.

The wedding itself unfolds in moments of extreme clarity against a blur of background noise and buzz of Yuan Che's underlying stress.

Seeing Feiye for the first time in his wedding robes. Cut in the Tian'ning style to emphasize his broad shoulders and narrow waist (the tailors did excellent work), Feiye's robes are a darker red compared to Yuan Che's bright ones, but they're decorated with blood red highlights that match Yuan Che perfectly. Yuan Che's own robes are embroidered in dark red along the collar and sleeves and together they look like a perfect set, not robes thrown together on extremely short notice barely a month after the marriage plans were finalized.

Making their wedding bows. What sticks most clearly in Yuan Che's mind is his intense worry that the giant hair ornament will fall off his head halfway through. Thankfully it doesn't and he makes all three bows with jewelry intact.

Drinking a wedding toast with Feiye. His fingers are warm when they brush over Yuan Che's as he passes him the small cup.

There's music and entertainment but Yuan Che can't focus on any of it.

Jiu-ge approaches the dais at the top of the hall where Feiye and Yuan Che sit next to each other at a shared table, just below the emperor's seat.

"Congratulations on your marriage," he addresses both of them, a lingering sour note in his voice. "Your belongings have all been sent to Qin Manor, Shiyi. I wish you both—many years of happiness." The bitterness is evident and he doesn't linger, turning and leaving the hall entirely. Yuan Che knows he must be dealing with the memories of his own wedding and late beloved wife, and he feels a twinge of sympathy despite how terribly Jiu-ge has been acting recently.

Yuan Ming is still his brother, and Yuan Che can't help but feel sad and hurt that he's leaving so fast, that he can't wait to get away from Tian'ning and back to Dawei, whereas Yuan Che is stuck here, surrounded by strangers and assassination plots.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Long Feiye leaves the wedding banquet just ahead of Yuan Che so he can be at his manor to 'welcome Yuan Che into his household.' It turns out that means standing silent and expressionless in front of his manor and offering his hand to help Yuan Che out of the carriage and up the steps leading into Qin Manor. Given the unfamiliar bulk and weight of the robes, Yuan Che is grateful; it significantly reduces the likelihood of tripping and falling headfirst into his future home. Also Feiye's grip is warm and grounding.

Both the manor's exterior and interior have been decorated with draping red silks and signs for prosperity and health. Besides the guards, Yuan Che doesn't see many household staff. One attendant leads them to Cangmo Hall, Feiye's personal quarters, then bows and departs, closing the doors behind him.

Yuan Che stands awkwardly and stares through the suite or adjoining rooms. The bed is also draped in red.

They're finally alone.

"How was your investigation into the assassin's poison?" Yuan Che asks immediately, hurrying after Feiye as he walks further into the room.

"Unproductive," Feiye says and Yuan Che slumps in disappointment. "I'm certain I've smelled that scent recently, just a day or two before your arrival in Tian'ning."

"Really? Where?" Yuan Che asks immediately and Feiye pauses where he's sliding open a set of large doors that lead to an inner courtyard containing a fountain and sizable pool.

"In the emperor's inner residence," Feiye admits. Yuan Che feels flickers of panic rising at the back of his mind.

"Then–then the emperor—"

"No," Feiye says. "The emperor wants this alliance; I'm certain of that. And the scent wasn't that strong, it was just lingering in the air—it was most likely brought in by a person he was meeting before me." Yuan Che relaxes slightly at that, but not much. If someone connected to the Liang assassins was high-ranking enough to be invited to a private audience with the emperor...

"From what I could discover, that morning in the same room the emperor had audiences with the minister of agriculture and the second prince, General Mu, and the crown prince," Feiye continues, hands quickly stripping off the large ornate belt at his waist and tossing it carelessly over a clothing rack. His thick outermost robe swiftly follows it.

"I'll need more time to investigate properly." Feiye's tone is impassive but the way his brows pinch together slightly shows his displeasure at the lack of progress. He strips out of his inner robes and shirt in one fluid movement. Yuan Che chokes on a surprised noise and stares.

"What are you doing?!"

Feiye stares at him in vague confusion. Yuan Che forces his eyes up from Feiye's chest to his face. The scars...

"I'm...going to take a bath," Feiye says, gesturing to the pool in the courtyard with curls of steam rising from its surface. "Won't you join me?"

Yuan Che's hands rise unbidden to clutch at the robes over his chest, even though his body is fully shielded by multiple layers of fabric. His eyes dart from Feiye's face to his now bare torso and then he forces them away as Feiye's hands drop to loosen his pants.

"I thought you served as a general in the army," Feiye comments. "On the front lines, even."

"Yes!" Yuan Che declares. He's proud of his career as a general, even if it is generally overshadowed by Si-ge's more illustrious contributions.

Feiye gives a small snort. "Surely even Dawei is not so rich that her armies can enjoy private baths?"

Yuan Che unwillingly recalls when he first joined the army at fourteen, so proud to be joining Si-ge, but fully in the midst of adolescent awkwardness. His limbs were suddenly too long and uncoordinated, he felt gangly and awkward, and everything was compounded by the fact that he was realizing all those feelings the poets talked about were ones he felt when looking at men rather than women. Being constantly surrounded by fit, attractive soldiers who were constantly stripping out of their shirts during and after training hadn't helped the issue.

Body-shy and awkward, Yuan Che had leveraged his status as a prince to bathe privately, and maintained the habit to the present.

"You're not getting in my bed if you don't bathe," Feiye states when Yuan Che's silence stretches a little too long. He strides out into the courtyard, entirely unbothered by his own nudity, moving with the same confidence and impeccable posture as he always does. And it's easy to see why, Yuan Che thinks, when he looks like THAT.

Yuan Che's eyes follow Feiye's departing form as though pulled by a string but beyond the overwhelming thought that Feiye's body might just be the most beautiful one he's ever seen is a thread of shock. The scars. Yuan Che himself has his fair share of scars from battles, training accidents—and Yuan Li induced childhood mishaps—but Long Feiye's skin is riddled with a tale of violence and suffering.

Feiye rinses himself with several ladles of water from a large basin set on a table in the courtyard, and then steps down into the pool and settles with just his head and upper shoulders out of the water.

Yuan Che considers. He had briefly washed that morning, but after an evening of sweating under the numerous layers of his wedding robes, soaking in a warm bath sounds heavenly, even if he does have to share it. And his shoulders and neck are aching from the weight of the headdress. He tugs it out of his hair, fumbling with the pins and dropping half of them onto the floor, wincing as several strands of hair separate painfully from his scalp. Sneaking glances at the motionless Feiye, Yuan Che strips down to his thin innermost layer and folds the heavy wedding robes over the stand next to Feiye's.

He approaches the bath from the side and sees Feiye's eyes closed in what looks like meditation. Yuan Che gathers his courage, strips out of his remaining layer and hurries to the side of the pool. He's just dipped a toe into the warm water when—

"Rinse off first," Feiye orders.

Yuan Che yelps, stepping back and twisting his body away from the narrowed glare Feiye is shooting him. Feiye's eyes slide pointedly to the large basin of water and scoop before he closes them once more, sinking deeper into the water and tipping his head back against the stone ledge surrounding the bath.

Yuan Che hurries over to the basin of water and scoops up a large ladle-full, pouring it down his chest. He stifles a shriek. It's COLD. Teeth chattering, he rinses himself quickly and then hurries back over to the bath, stepping down into the warm water gratefully and sinking down to sit on the ledge running around the inside of the pool.

The water is cloudy and pleasantly scented and Yuan Che relaxes, sinking deeper until the water laps just below his ears and tipping his head back against the stone to mirror Feiye. His eyes close as the tension and stress of the day drain away. Gentle burbling from the fountain mingles with the chirping of a few night insects, and it's peaceful and relaxing in a way Yuan Che hasn't felt in ... months. Possibly years.

He relaxes enough that he almost dozes off, when a sudden sloshing of water jolts him back to full alertness. Feiye climbs out of the bath, shaking water from his skin, and Yuan Che can't help the way his eyes follow the path of the water dripping down Feiye's body. Feiye pats himself mostly dry with a small towel from a wooden stand and shrugs into a loose robe that had been folded next to it. He vanishes back inside the manor.

Yuan Che waits a few moments and then follows, hurrying to dry and put on another robe that he guesses (hopes) Feiye won't mind him borrowing temporarily. He has no idea where his belongings have been stored in Qin Manor, but it certainly isn't Feiye's private quarters.

Moving from the courtyard back into the bedroom Yuan Che shies away from the bed with its eye-catching red drapery. He doesn't know what Feiye might be expecting or even wanting in terms of a wedding night. Maybe he has no interest at all in bedding men. In any event, Yuan Che is perfectly fine delaying that conversation for as long as possible.

He wraps the thin robe more firmly around himself and moves to the other side of the large set of adjoining rooms into what appears to be a study. A low table and tall set of open shelves are full of neatly organized tea accoutrements. There's a small pot of water steaming over a few coals in a brazier already and a gaudily decorated box in the center of the table. Yuan Che peeks inside and finds tea leaves, so he sets about preparing two cups of tea. It has a strong floral scent that makes Yuan Che wrinkle his nose. If this is standard for the Tian'ning tea Feiye favors he'll need to find a supplier with Dawei leaves as soon as possible. He pours out two cups and takes a small sip. Ugh. The floral taste coats the inside of his mouth unpleasantly but the tea itself is a glowing warmth down his throat and settling in his stomach.

Feiye appears as Yuan Che slides one cup across the table, sniffing the air.

"What are— stop !" he's across the room in an instant, knocking the cup from Yuan Che's hand to tumble across the table and onto the floor. "Did you drink it!?"

"I—"

The warmth of the tea in his stomach intensifies into a burning ache and Yuan Che chokes, his body abruptly trying to reject the substance. Feiye's hands slam into his back, cool qi spreading through his body and fighting against the inferno burning him alive from the inside out. Yuan Che retches, blood splattering across the table—

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥ XII ◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

"Dianxia!"

Yuan Che wakes up.

He turns over and rolls himself into the smallest ball he can manage as sobs of rage and helplessness tear themselves out of his throat. He can still feel the shadow of the cool presence of Long Feiye's hands on his back.

Yi Huai hovers uncertainly, tugging worriedly at the blanket, asking if he's sick.

Yuan Che is sick. Sick of living (and dying) like this, sick of making progress only to have it torn away by whatever cruel curse has trapped him.

"A nightmare," he tells Yi Huai dully—it doesn't dampen the worry in his eyes, but at least makes him stop attempting to physically check Yuan Che for injury or illness.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

In the imperial throne hall Yuan Che's throat tightens so much with emotion that he almost can't breathe when Feiye looks at him with utter cold disinterest.

He spends the afternoon grimly practicing sword throwing at needles with Yi Huai, and Yuan Che realizes as he's dressing for the dinner banquet that he knows where some of the Liang assassins will be this first night when they attack Feiye. He could try to follow them and spy to find out who they're really working for. He adds a layer of black just under his outer robes; Yi Huai notices but doesn't comment beyond a suspicious look.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

After the banquet Yuan Che watches Feiye vanish around the corner and immediately starts stripping off his gaudy outermost layer. Several of the Dawei guards make shocked and disapproving noises but Yuan Che simply shoves the bright robes at the one who seems most disapproving and orders Yi Huai and the other guards to follow him.

He sprints after Feiye, the others hot on his heels. When they burst into the narrow street the fight is already in progress, but the assassins immediately flee. Yuan Che doesn't stop running; dashing straight past Feiye and down a shadowy alley he knows is parallel to the route the assassins will take.

If there's one thing Yuan Che is good at, it's running. "Running away" some of his brothers might say in their less-charitable moments, but Yuan Che knows that it doesn't matter how much better a swordsman than you your opponent is if they can't catch you. And it's very hard to catch him.

He tracks the assassins through the city until the leader makes a sign and some peel off, leaping down from the roofs to another street. Yuan Che sticks to following the leader who is now moving with purpose, not looking back, confident that he's lost any tail.

At last he alights on the uppermost roof of a large multistory building—what appears to be a brothel. It's brightly lit and bustling, strains of music from a variety of instruments mingling in the air. The assassin sticks to the shadowy valley of the roof and then swings down to the balcony that wraps around the upper floor of the building. He taps on a window and swiftly enters when it opens.

Yuan Che follows, leaping up to the roof and inching down towards the eaves above where the assassin had entered the room below, trying to make out what is being said. He can vaguely hear voices (one with the familiar lilting accent of the Liang) but can't make out any coherent words—they're lost beneath the noise of laughter and the lively melody of a stringed instrument. Yuan Che swings down off the roof onto the balcony, creeping toward the window the assassin entered...

A hand grabs Yuan Che's arm, dragging him backward and then spinning to slam him against the side of the building, a hand over his mouth muffling his shout of surprise and alarm. Feiye presses against him, angling his face so his lips almost brush against Yuan Che's ear.

"Don't move." It's not a warning; it's a threat.

The window swings open, and from the corner of his eye Yuan Che sees a dark shadow slipping up and onto the roof. The assassin doesn't give them a second glance, likely assuming that they're otherwise occupied with...whatever two figures pressed this closely together against the shadowy wall of a brothel would be occupied with. Feiye waits a moment longer then pulls away to glance into the now deserted room and then peer over the edge of the balcony. He keeps a firm grip on Yuan Che's upper arm as he watches the smattering of people below on their way in and out of the brothel's large front courtyard and main gates.

A solo, hooded figure steps out of the building, glances around, and then hustles away. To Yuan Che's eyes the nervousness could just be a first-time brothel visitor, but Long Feiye's grip on his arm tightens to the point where Yuan Che winces and tries to pull away. It draws Feiye's attention back to him and Yuan Che shrinks under the focused and piercing gaze. This Feiye has none of the concern of the one who had tried to save him from the poisoned tea last night; he's all suspicion and sharp edges that will cut Yuan Che to pieces with no hesitation if he gets too close.

"Did you recognize that man?" Yuan Che asks anyway, desperate for information. "Who was he?"

"I think you know quite well who he is," Feiye snarls, his grip tightening even further until Yuan Che knows for certain he'll have bruises the next day. "After all, what better way to get into your betrothed's good graces than rescuing him from an assassination attempt and then chasing down the assailants? After you joined their clandestine meeting here were you going to come back and claim to have lost them? Or did you already have a scapegoat prepared to throw at me and waste my time?"

"Let me go ," Yuan Che tries and fails to wrench his arm out of Feiye's grasp. "I wasn't coming here to join them, I was following the assassin to SPY. I need to know who they're working for—who in Tian'ning is colluding with the Liang kingdom against the Dawei-Tian'ning alliance!" His voice rises in impassioned indignation and Feiye glances around, judging the open air balcony too exposed.

He drags Yuan Che inside the now-empty room where the assassin had been previously. Even Yuan Che can smell the very faint scent of the poison lingering in the air from either the assassin or whoever he had been meeting. Feiye shoves Yuan Che roughly down to kneel on one of the cushions, and Yuan Che winces as one of his knees hits the wooden floor. He huddles miserably while Feiye swiftly checks that the hall outside the room is deserted and then returns to look down on Yuan Che, his glare cold.

Yuan Che feels like a student again, ordered by a tutor to recite the scroll he definitely hasn't memorized, being forced to muddle through what little he can recall while praying that the punishment at the end won't be too harsh.

"I'm not working with the assassins," he swears, pushing as much honesty as he can into his voice, desperate for Feiye to believe him. "Or anyone else in Tian'ning. I'm trying to SAVE your life— I need the Dawei-Tian'ning alliance to succeed." He also doesn't want Feiye to die, but he knows that excuses of sentiment will be worse than useless at this point. "There's a reason I knew about the poisoned wine and assassination attempt this evening but..." he swallows hard. "You won't believe me if I tell you."

"Let me be the judge of that. Tell me," Feiye orders coldly. Yuan Che takes a deep breath, fingers crumpling the fabric of his robes where he's clenching his hands nervously. He hasn't told anyone about the time curse—not even Yi Huai—too terrified of being viewed as delusional or a liar. He desperately needs Feiye to believe him, to work together to uncover whatever Liang plot has taken root in Tian'ning, but telling him such an unbelievable story... with his luck, Feiye will declare him mad, refuse to marry him, and have him sent back to Dawei in disgrace.

"I—" his voice cracks and Yuan Che clears his throat. "This—this isn't the first time I've lived through today." He can't meet Feiye's piercing gaze and stares at the floor between them instead. "I'm stuck in some sort of curse. A time curse. Time passes normally until something happens to restart it and then—I wake up this morning. I'm like the carp swimming against the river's flow and trying to leap over the Longmen falls, but every time I try I'm washed back downstream and have to start again, swimming past the same rocks again and again and always failing to make it over the waterfall." He falls silent, waiting for Feiye's reaction.

"You're right, that is unbelievable." Feiye's voice is sharp, and Yuan Che hunches his shoulders; he hadn't truly expected anything different. "If so, you know what will happen tomorrow," Feiye continues.

"Yes."

"Tell me."

Yuan Che dares to lift his eyes. Feiye's face is still cold and untrusting, but it has an edge of calculation now. Whether he's actually entertaining the idea that Yuan Che's story is true, or just attempting to find out how delusional Yuan Che is, at least Yuan Che has a chance to speak. To try to convince him. He takes another deep breath, organizes his thoughts, and starts to speak.

"After a final fitting for my wedding robes I'll have a meeting with the empress dowager. She'll tell me how much easier my life would be if I had a friend in the palace such as herself, and in exchange hint that I can spy on you for her. If I act particularly pathetic," he winces slightly at the memory of that iteration of the meeting, "she asks me to confirm one small fact for her—something that I'll be in the unique position of finding out—whether my future husband has a specific mark on his body."

Feiye remains stone-faced. Yuan Che continues.

"Then we'll meet your mother for tea and a walk through the gardens." He can't help a small smile at that; it's always been a highlight of the cursed repeating days. "She'll tell me the story about how you got drunk and swam around the pond looking for her hairpin. I've heard it eleven times, but she always tells it with such delight that I laugh every time. If I'm lucky, she'll also tell the stories about how all your royal cousin's socks mysteriously went missing after he picked a fight with you, only to turn up pinned by arrows in obscure corners of the palace—or what happened the first time you joined a royal hunt when you were fourteen." Yuan Che wants to grin at the memory, but he can feel Feiye's qi in the room like a physical weight pressing against his skin. When he risks a glance upwards Feiye's face is blank but Yuan Che recognizes the tension in his shoulders. He hurries on from the topic of Consort Yi.

"And then we'll visit the city's markets, and..." he trails off.

"And?" Feiye's voice lashes out threateningly. Yuan Che's fingers begin their nervous clenching again.

"You haven't asked what makes the loop restart," he says. "What makes me go back to the beginning and wake up this morning."

Feiye's eyebrow twitches. "Well?"

"I die. Or you die. Sometimes you kill me, but I've managed to avoid that for a while." Yuan Che gives a weak smile. "Don't worry, I don't hold it against you. Besides, it wasn't really you since you were all," he makes a vague gesture, "white hair and glowing red eyes. You didn't know it was me."

Feiye stiffens even further and Yuan Che forges ahead before he can interrupt. "Tomorrow near the market the assassins attack again. They have a poison needle and it's...very deadly. Unfortunately we couldn't take any alive, but we know they're from the Liang kingdom and working together with someone inside Tian'ning. Investigating the poison on the needle pointed to four possible suspects: Minister Mu, the emperor's two eldest sons, and the Minister of Agriculture." He looks up at Feiye, meeting his eyes pleadingly. "So if you know who the assassins are working for, please tell me. If you tell me now, at least I'll know for the next time I'm here, reliving this day yet again." Yuan Che's voice twists bitterly.

"You truly believe you've been...'re-living' the same time repeatedly," Feiye says dispassionately. Yuan Che looks down and shrugs.

"It's the truth," he whispers. He knows how unbelievable it sounds. He knows Feiye is more likely to conclude that everything he's said is either good guesswork or based on reports from Dawei spies within Tian'ning (never mind that Dawei has no spies within Tian'ning, a fact Yuan Che now heartily regrets).

The room is silent for a long moment, only background noise and music from the floor below filtering in.

"Get up," Feiye orders suddenly and Yuan Che flinches, scambling to his feet. Feiye moves towards him and Yuan Che squeezes his eyes shut—at least if Feiye kills him now he'll be sure to do things differently the next time—

But Long Feiye simply grabs him around the waist and springs out the window, leaping to the roof and then further, his qinggong powerful enough to effortlessly carry both of them. Yuan Che clutches Feiye's robes and prays he's not about to become the victim of a tragic qinggong 'accident.'

Fortunately Feiye simply takes them both back to the guest residence where Yuan Che is housed and alights on the street in front of the main gate. The guards, a mixture of Dawei soldiers and Tian'ning imperial guards graciously provided by the emperor in conjunction with the guest manor, stare. Feiye gives Yuan Che a shove and he stumbles toward the gate.

"It's dangerous for Prince Che to wander the city alone at night," Feiye snaps. "See to it he's well-protected within the residence for the rest of the night." He aims the order at the Tian'ning guards, who bow immediately in obedience while the Dawei guards shuffle awkwardly, no doubt imagining the conflict that would arise should Yuan Che order them to do something different. Yuan Che doesn't, instead turning to Feiye with a deep bow.

"Thank you for your concern, Prince Qin," he says, hoping his voice doesn't quaver. "I hope you'll—give due consideration to what I've told you." Feiye meets his pleading gaze for a heartbeat and then departs, leaping up and away over the roofs again, leaving Yuan Che and the cluster of confused guards behind.

Exhausted, Yuan Che goes in and goes to bed. There's nothing else he can do.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Yuan Che impatiently goes through the next day, waiting for a chance to speak to Feiye alone again. During their meeting and garden stroll with Consort Yi he's highly aware of Feiye's restrained energy, a constant prickle on the back of his neck warning him that Feiye is watching his every move.

As Consort Yi brings up (unprompted!) the stories Yuan Che had mentioned the previous evening he can't resist shooting glances in Feiye's direction, hoping to see some sign that Feiye is starting to consider that his unbelievable story is actually true.

At last they depart the imperial palace and all its watchful eyes and ears, trotting on horseback down towards the city markets with Yi Huai and Chu Xifeng following a reasonable distance behind. Yuan Che turns to Feiye. He wants to ask if Feiye believes him, but the more important question is—

"Will you tell me who you suspect now?" Yuan Che can hear the pleading tone in his voice. Feiye doesn't respond, staring straight ahead as though Yuan Che hasn't spoken at all. Yuan Che drops his gaze to the reins he's clutching, fighting back a prickle of wetness in his eyes. Of course Feiye doesn't believe him; who would, when the tale is so incredible?

"You claim there will be another attack today, at the market," Feiye speaks suddenly. Yuan Che's head jerks up. "Tell me about it."

Yuan Che does, eagerly, spilling out every detail he can recall of the timing, location, the attacker's movements, and eventual deaths or escapes. It's not unlike the skirmish reports he'd so often prepared for Si-ge during their campaigns, and something about recalling, organizing, and relaying the information is strangely calming.

Feiye listens in silence, his focus never wavering, and lets Yuan Che talk himself until he can at last think of no other details to relay. They ride the rest of the way in silence.

As they leave the horses at the usual inn, Feiye and Chu Xifeng have a long whispered conversation. Yuan Che shoots them glances from across the street where he's loitering near a large workshop's display of pottery, a worker chattering away at him about the benefits of different types of glaze.

At last Xifeng departs with a nod and a short bow and Feiye strides past Yuan Che and Yi Huai with a short, "Let's go."

Yuan Che tries to lose himself in the bustle and joy of the market as he has so often before, but the undercurrent of stress that has become his constant companion over the past weeks is stronger now. What if Feiye tries to change something and Yuan Che's careful plan of action for how to ensure they all survive the attack becomes useless? What if the assassin shots the poisoned needle at Feiye from a new angle? What if he's ruined everything by trying to confide in Feiye?

To make himself feel better, Yuan Che drags their group to all his favorite food stalls and restaurants along the street, beelining for his favorites and ordering confidently. After so many afternoons spent in this market, he's well aware of what the most delicious options are.

Chu Xifeng rejoins them late in the afternoon, and Yuan Che relaxes slightly at the return to 'normal.'

When Feiye glances at the sun hanging low in the sky and announces, "We should be getting back to the palace," Yuan Che nods in agreement, scraping together the tattered shreds of his determination.

As they enter the small side street, he meets Feiye's eyes with a significant glance. Any moment now.

Feiye senses the assassins' approach and whirls, a blast of qi slamming into the first wave of attackers and flinging them up and away. The rest of the assassins fling themselves down into the street from the roofs, and the battle begins.

It's like a familiar dance to Yuan Che as he darts towards Yi Huai, pulling him out of harm's way, ducking and dodging sword strikes. He's deadlier now, too, knowing when the assassins will strike and when they'll leave themselves open to his own blade. He has his eyes squeezed shut and has already started running when the explosion of acrid smoke fills the street.

Eyes stinging from the smoke, he can see the hazy silhouette on the rooftop as the assassin rises, aiming at Feiye.

With an inarticulate scream of warning, Yuan Che flings his sword.

There's no ping of metal from the needle striking the blade.

He missed.

Yuan Che crumples as his knees buckle, certain that the next moment it will all be gone, he'll be waking up again...

He blinks the wetness out of his eyes and stares in disbelief as Long Feiye flings away the needle he'd caught just a hair away from his throat. Feiye leaps for the assassin on the roof and Yuan Che staggers upright as the assassin comes crashing down to the street, Feiye right behind. The few remaining attackers flee, with Yi Huai and Xifeng following.

"Get—get his hand! The poison!" Yuan Che shouts, but it's too late; the assassin is already laughing as Feiye shakes the shattered remains of the poison vial onto the street. Feiye drops him as well and steps away as the assassin wheezes out a last few laughs and then spasms and stills.

"No!" Yuan Che cries in disappointment—he needed Feiye to hear what the assassin had to say, to prove that there is a conspiracy between the Liang kingdom and some party in Tian'ning!

"It's fine," Feiye tells him. "The others will serve just as well."

Yuan Che blinks at him and then turns at a sudden shout of, "Dianxia!"

Chu Xifeng and Yi Huai are running towards them followed by—a group dragging three of the assassins who had escaped, now bound, gagged, and struggling. Yuan Che stares at Feiye as he steps forward and issues a series of curt orders, the men leaping to obey. They swiftly begin clearing the street of bodies and weapons, and haul away the still-living attackers.

"They ran right into a trap," Yi Huai tells him in a disbelieving murmur. "Prince Qin's men were waiting and took them completely by surprise; the assassins didn't stand a chance. It's like he somehow knew where they would run." Like he knew, indeed, Yuan Che thinks, staring at Feiye. Surely Feiye must believe him now.

To Yuan Che's immense frustration, Feiye avoids all his questions, instructs Xifeng to escort him and Yi Huai back to the Dawei residence, and then vanishes after his men. Yuan Che glares daggers at Xifeng whose polite mask slips into a scowl in return as he leads the way back to the inn to collect their horses. Yuan Che stomps after him the entire way and then rides in a simmering angry silence back to the familiar streets near the palace.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Sitting through the endless opera that evening is even worse than the previous time (through no fault of the singers who are, in fact, impeccable) as Yuan Che stews over Long Feiye's refusal to tell him anything when Yuan Che has told him everything .

That night he sends Yi Huai to Qin Manor again, desperate for news of any sort.

Yi Huai returns with a bemused expression and tells Yuan Che that one of Feiye's attendants instructed him to relay a verbal message on Feiye's behalf.

"I have given what you told me due consideration."

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

After their bows, Yuan Che and Long Feiye have just taken their seats at the wedding banquet, and servants are swiftly distributing wine and the first course when a middle-aged man with a neatly groomed goatee and beard rises from his seat near the front of the hall. Yuan Che blinks; he doesn't remember this man giving a toast the night before, and certainly not as the first person to do so.

"Your Imperial Highness," the man sweeps a deep bow towards the emperor. "I regret to interrupt this joyous occasion, but I'm afraid I have important news that cannot wait."

"Grand Marshal." The emperor's voice is stern as he frowns, displeased with this turn of events. "What could be so important that it cannot wait until after my brother's wedding?"

The bearded man—the Grand Marshal—bows his head, his face taking on a most apologetic and regretful expression. "I'm afraid it is of the highest urgency—and relates both to Prince Qin's personal safety and the safety of the Tian'ning-Dawei alliance itself!" His voice is loud and projects across the entire hall which falls silent to listen. "As I'm sure you are aware, yesterday Prince Qin was attacked in the streets of the capital. Not by common thugs—but by professional Liang kingdom assassins!"

A mutter of shock ripples through the assembled guests.

"Si-di?" The emperor's voice is low and angry, and Yuan Che guesses he was, in fact, not aware of this. Feiye rises and bows.

"Your Majesty." Feiye doesn't drop his arms or raise his head, anticipating the emperor's anger.

"An attempt was made on your life in the very streets of our city, and you neglected to mention it?" The emperor's voice is clear in its censure. Feiye deepens his bow minutely.

"Your Majesty; I'm honored by your concern. Although I failed to capture the leader of the attackers alive, I took three other prisoners who are being held in the imperial prisons. Unfortunately I have not yet had a chance to investigate this matter thoroughly, as I was occupied with other matters. I had hoped to present a full report of the incident to you after I discovered the instigator behind the attack." Feiye rises slightly and inclines his head in the direction of the Grand Marshal. "I am indebted to the Grand Marshal for his speed in investigating this matter."

The Grand Marshal looks smug, as though beating Feiye to the discovery at the end of an investigation is a high achievement. Yuan Che watches, wide-eyed.

"Your Majesty," the Grand Marshal continues, "this wedding is part of our alliance with Dawei—an alliance to make both of our countries more powerful but sadly...sadly some in Tian'ning do not stand behind our great emperor's vision. Some are actively working against his efforts to make Tian'ning a peaceful and prosperous country!" Yuan Che can appreciate the dramatics; the assembled guests are riveted.

"Even in the highest levels of the imperial court itself, some would collude with our enemies to strike at the heart of our nation!" The Grand Marshal withdraws a folded piece of paper from within his robes and lays it across his palms, lifting it up to present it formally to the emperor. "This is a letter from the Liang king himself—written to his highness Long Tianqing, second prince of Tian'ning, detailing their arrangement, including the assassination attempt on your brother, Prince Qin!" Audible shock fills the hall as numerous members of the crowd suck in a surprised breath.

A young man, perhaps around Yuan Li's age, leaps to his feet, knocking over a jug of wine in his haste which spills across his table and onto the floor.

"T–this is ridiculous!" he cries. "Anyone could write my name on a letter—or pay some assassins to claim that I hired them! It's all nonsense!" Even from across the hall, Yuan Che can see that he's pale and sweating.

The Grand Marshal allows an imperial eunuch to take the letter and then turns to the second prince, folding his hands into his sleeves. "The assassins used a curious poison in their attack," he says loudly, drowning out the prince's protestations of innocence. "A rare poison, distilled from a flower that doesn't grow anywhere in Tian'ning, but does grow in the Liang highlands. It is instantly deadly, but only when freshly distilled, and after even a few days it begins to lose its potency. I had the imperial poison experts check the needle used to attack Prince Qin and they confirmed: the poison used in the attack was less than three days old. It must have been produced in Tian'ning, not brought in from Liang."

Yuan Che glances at Feiye at that because the needle, last he saw, had been in Feiye's possession. But Feiye doesn't seem upset that his evidence has suddenly changed hands.

"Using the fact that this poison produces a highly distinctive scent when being prepared, investigators discovered a workshop the assassins were using to create it—a workshop furnished by none other than the second prince himself! Multiple eyewitnesses have confirmed that he was seen entering it, and, due to his proximity to the poison, the smell will have lingered on his clothes!" The Grand Marshal finishes in a booming shout, echoing throughout the hall. He turns back to the emperor and bows low once more. "Your Imperial Majesty, I beg you—investigate this matter immediately before the evidence can be concealed!"

A number of officials join the Grand Marshal and prostrate themselves on the floor with cries of, "Investigate immediately, Your Majesty!"

The emperor himself is breathing heavily, staring down at the Grand Marshal and then across to his second son.

"It's lies, father!" Long Tianqing shouts, his voice cracking unfortunately. The emperor opens his mouth, face dark with rage, but before he can speak another shout rings out.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty please!" A woman flings herself forward, staggering between the tables to drop to her knees before the emperor's dais. "This is nothing but fabrications and slander against my son! It's an attempt to discredit him before we can reveal that we—we have uncovered the TRUE plot against you, Your Majesty!"

"Consort Xiao, this matter is not for you to—" the Grand Marshal begins, but Consort Xiao cuts him off with her own shout.

"He's trying to cover up his own crimes, Your Majesty," she shrieks, pointing a shaking finger at the Grand Marshal. "He's planning to steal the medicine Dawei has sent to eastern Tian'ning! My son and I have a letter in his own hand ordering the shipment to be diverted to his own manor on the outskirts of the capital while replacement carts full of ineffective substitutes are sent instead!"

"How dare you spread such lies!" The Grand Marshal's hand is shaking as he slashes it through the air as though to cut her accusation to pieces.

"How dare I? How DARE I? How dare YOU!" Consort Xiao shrieks hysterically. "How could a member of the imperial court such as yourself behave in such a disgraceful way, and then to accuse others, frame those who would expose your crimes—"

"Disgrace? DISGRACE?!" The empress dowager rises from her chair, trembling in fury. "YOU speak of disgraceful behavior, Consort Xiao!?" She turns towards the emperor who is sitting in stunned silence at the scene unfolding before him. "Have you wondered why none of your concubines have borne you any children in recent years?" the empress dowager asks him. "It's all because of her ! She's been poisoning them !!"

The emperor clutches at his chest and slumps back into his throne in shock as imperial eunuchs rush toward him in concern.

"Like mother, like son; their whole line is rotten to the core!" The empress dowager shouts at Consort Xiao, flushed almost as red as the embroidery on Yuan Che's robes.

"You lying BITCH!" Consort Xiao screams, picks up an entire platter of pastries, and flings it at the empress dowager.

As the hall descends into chaos, Feiye calmly pours himself a cup of tea and raises it, inhaling the aroma. Behind the cup his lips twitch into a small, satisfied smile. Yuan Che recognizes the look: the smile of a mastermind whose scheme has gone flawlessly from start to finish.

Yuan Che knows with utter certainty that Feiye is behind everything that has just taken place.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

It takes a long while for order to be restored even with the imperial guards who flood into the hall to enforce the emperor's commands.

At last no one is screaming accusations or denials, and a bevy of officials prostrate themselves and beseech the emperor that the accusations and possible crimes are too grave to wait until morning; an investigation must proceed immediately!

The emperor, his attendants, and a cohort of high ranking ministers and representatives from the Ministry of Justice relocate to an antechamber off the wedding hall while the wedding guests sit in tense silence, guards keeping a watchful eye out for any trying to slip away or pass messages out to potential conspirators. A few court officials who had not been present at the wedding are summoned to present themselves immediately.

The Grand Marshal is summoned first, and Long Feiye and Yuan Che shortly after. They enter the impromptu receiving hall where the emperor has installed himself at one end of the room—an imposing figure simmering with rage at this disruption to his court and authority.

The assembled officials and ministers are silent, none daring to draw the emperor's attention and wrath.

"Si-di," the emperor commands, and Feiye steps forward, bows deeply, and gives a concise report of what he had said previously, summarizing the attack and describing where the Liang assassin prisoners are being held in the imperial prisons.

When requested, Yuan Che steps forward to attest that he had recognized the Liang accent, fighting style, and that their attackers were not common Liang soldiers but professionally trained assassins.

"Rest assured that this attack upon both yourselves and the alliance between Tian'ning and Dawei will be investigated thoroughly and quickly," the emperor intones, and Feiye and Yuan Che bow deeply.

"Many thanks, Your Imperial Majesty," Feiye intones, Yuan Che echoing him with only the smallest delay. Yuan Che rises but Feiye remains in his deep bow over his outstretched arms.

"Brother," he addresses the emperor, "if my presence is not required further, may I have your permission to take my consort home? He is exhausted from the events of the day." Yuan Che suspects that line would have worked better had he been female, but he does his best to look exhausted and overwhelmed, shrinking down and widening his eyes in a way he knows makes himself appear several years younger.

Since Feiye has not been accused of either colluding with an enemy state, diverting imperial medical supplies for personal use, or poisoning members of the imperial harem, the emperor grants the request with a scowl.

"See your husband home, then. I will summon you tomorrow." He orders a group of imperial guards to accompany them "for your protection" which Feiye accepts with another deep bow and sincere words of thanks. Yuan Che suspects the guards will be stationed around the house more to keep an eye on Feiye than to protect them from any lingering assassination threats.

Feiye and Yuan Che bow deeply once more, and depart.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

A significant amount of tension leaves Yuan Che's shoulders when the main gates of Long Feiye's manor swing closed behind them. When they enter Feiye's private quarters and the doors shut behind them, Yuan Che dares to breathe freely at last. It's as if all the accumulated stress and tension from the past evening drain out of him in a rush and he's left with only a hammering heart and shaking hands.

"What..." His voice sounds thin and wispy to his own ears. "What just happened?"

Feiye doesn't reply, striding further into his rooms and sliding open the large doors leading out into the courtyard with the bathing pool.

Yuan Che has been fantasizing about Feiye's bathing pool for days.

"Will you join me for a bath?" Feiye asks, already halfway out of his robes.

"Yes, I'll—I'll come join you," Yuan Che agrees, trying to find a place for his eyes that isn't the skin being swiftly revealed as Feiye sheds his clothes. Yuan Che thinks he's prepared this time for both the scars and the powerful yet delicate beauty of Feiye's body, but the sight still leaves him breathless.

He takes his time undressing so that Feiye is already fully in the bath, eyes closed when Yuan Che approaches. He goes straight to the basin to rinse this time, gritting his teeth against the expected shock of cold water, and then hurries to slip into the pool, sinking down into the warm water with a relieved sigh. When he looks up, Feiye's dark eyes are fixed on him.

"Have you been here before?" Feiye asks and Yuan Che's heart leaps at the question. Does this mean Feiye truly believes him?

"Yes," he answers truthfully. Then, "that tea in your study, in the decorated box—it's poisoned."

"Quite likely," Feiye agrees. "It was an 'anonymous' gift most likely from the crown prince. He's never been the most subtle." Yuan Che scowls darkly and Feiye tilts his head to a quizzical angle. "How do you know?"

"How do you think I know?" Yuan Che grumbles and hunches further into the water. He stares at Feiye's peaceful expression as he relaxes in the water, mind spinning. He has so many questions about everything that had happened at the wedding banquet. He chooses the one most relevant to Dawei's safety. "How were you so sure the emperor wasn't involved in the collusion with the Liang?" Yuan Che asks.

"What does Tian'ning get out of the alliance with Dawei?" Feiye counters, without opening his eyes. Yuan Che forces himself to focus on the question, and not the very distracting way the water is lapping at Feiye's collarbones. He casts his mind back to the marriage treaty he'd read. Unlike Dawei, Tian'ning has more than enough manpower to defend her borders, and the main element in the treaty had been...

"The trade in medicines and medicinal plants," Yuan Che says slowly. "For the plague."

"The plague." Feiye's eyes open and he gives a sardonic half-smile. "Such a convenient thing. No one wants to get too close to investigate a plague, after all." He meets Yuan Che's wide eyes for a moment then sighs. "You're familiar with gu poisoning, I believe?" Yuan Che nods, hesitantly. It's hard to forget the memories of Feiye's mindless violence and pale hair matted with blood.

"The emperor and his crown prince have a project; they hope to make an army of gu-afflicted puppets," Feiye explains, voice tightly controlled. "One of the plants they need for their experiments is native to Dawei, and they viewed the trade alliance as an excellent way to import it in large quantities. It was also included in the gift your father is sending to celebrate the marriage, thus the Grand Marshal's plan to divert the carts and send fakes instead." A cloud of anger passes over Feiye's face.

"They were going to let thousands of Tian'ning's people suffer," he continues, voice hard with rage. "The people who so desperately need those medical supplies would have gotten nothing but useless trash, while the true supplies would no doubt have been destroyed to conceal the evidence of their crimes." Feiye meets Yuan Che's eyes and his lips curve in a satisfied smile that makes Yuan Che's breath catch in his throat. "I'm sure the Grand Marshal will find a way to weasel out of the accusations made against him this evening, but with the increased scrutiny there'll be no way for them to divert the supplies. They'll go to the people who need them, and the gu experiments will be delayed." He pronounces the last statement with satisfaction.

Yuan Che stares at Feiye in amazement. Somehow in the last two days he had organized everything and set the stage perfectly for it to come to a climax at the wedding banquet. Feiye meets his gaze steadily and then cocks his head.

"You're really nothing like what I was led to expect, Prince Che."

Yuan Che widens his eyes and adopts his most innocent expression. "Really?"

Feiye snorts, lips twitching in a small smile, and Yuan Che feels a small fizz of delight in his chest at having drawn that reaction. "I'm sure you're well aware of your reputation. I wasn't expecting someone quite so...astute."

Yuan Che can guess what kind of description had reached Feiye's ears. A prince far down in the line of succession who only escaped the moniker of "useless prince" by the pure luck of having a younger brother who is even more useless. Constantly trailing after his older brother who outshines him in every way from martial prowess to being favored by their father.

A general in his brother's army, true, but if you listened to the most prevalent rumors he was really there to serve in his brother's bed rather than as a commander in the field.

Yuan Che has never done anything to discourage the rumors because being underestimated and viewed as generally not the sharpest sword in the armory are incredibly beneficial when it comes to working on the important things: like gathering intelligence for Si-ge. If anything he feels a little proud that his cultivated image has made it all the way to Tian'ning and into whatever reports Feiye's spies had delivered to him.

Yuan Che grins happily. "I hope you're not disappointed."

"I'm not disappointed."

Feiye's calm statement of fact settles something inside Yuan Che, and he thinks that perhaps being married to Feiye won't be so bad. It might even be good.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Feiye gets out of the bath first, drying himself and then heading back inside the building. Yuan Che follows, borrowing the same soft robe as yesterday. He pulls the remaining pins and tie out of his hair, sighing at the lessening of tension on his scalp, and runs his fingers through his hair, combing it out somewhat before pulling it back up in a looser style for sleep.

He stares across the room. The bed with its bright red drapery isn't quite as scary this time around, but Yuan Che still shies away from thinking about what might happen if Feiye asks to consummate their marriage. If Feiye wants to. Yuan Che still isn't sure what he himself wants.

He gathers his courage and goes to sit on the edge of the bed, tugging the robe tightly around himself.

Feiye reappears, now fully dressed once more in the single dark layer that must be his sleepwear. He moves around the room putting out the lamps and candles, then returns and stares down at Yuan Che for a long moment, profile lit by moonlight coming in from the courtyard. Feiye reaches out a hand to the front of Yuan Che's robe and Yuan Che can't help it. He flinches.

Feiye sighs. "If you don't want sex then move."

Yuan Che sits frozen for a second and then hurriedly scoots back to the inner side of the bed, snatching one of the folded quilts from the foot and wrapping it tightly around himself as he lies down.

Feiye just stares at him for a long moment and then lies down as well, pulling the bedding up to his chest and folding his hands on top of it. Yuan Che realizes that Feiye had probably meant 'move to the daybed' he'd seen in the adjoining room, but it's too late to move now unless he wants to climb over Feiye. Yuan Che tugs on his pillow and shuffles closer to the wall, putting a respectable amount of space between himself and Feiye on the large bed.

After the long day and the stress of the wedding itself he's exhausted.

Feiye's voice breaks the silence abruptly. "What will happen tomorrow?"

"I... don't know," Yuan Che admits. "I've never gotten this far before."

Feiye is silent.

Yuan Che swallows and stares up at the red drapery above the bed, lit with pale hints of moonlight. He hopes Feiye isn't reconsidering his not-disappointment now that he knows Yuan Che can't tell him anything about the future. Yuan Che vows to find other helpful things he can do around the manor tomorrow to prove to Feiye that he's still useful. Tomorrow he'll ask if he can see the accounts and assist with their management. Tomorrow...

Tomorrow...

Yuan Che falls asleep.

◈◈▣◈▣◈◈

Yuan Che blinks sleepily as his pillow moves.

It moves again and he jolts fully into consciousness—it's not his pillow; in the night he's migrated across the spacious bed and wrapped himself around Feiye. Curse this sleep habit! And with the fact that he'd gone to bed dressed only in the thin robe after bathing, the way he's thrown a bare leg over Feiye's body is shockingly indecent.

Yuan Che flings himself back to the other side of the bed with a squeak, grabbing a blanket to ensure he's fully covered where the robe has betrayed him and come loose in the night.

Feiye sits up and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. Yuan Che scrambles around him and off the bed, tugging his robe back firmly around himself and blushing. Before he can apologize a sudden commotion outside the building draws their attention—pounding feet and angry shouting in multiple voices. Feiye is on his feet in an instant, pulling a sword from nowhere, the blade suddenly gleaming in his hand. Chu Xifeng's voice rises above the others "catch him don't let him—"

The doors to Feiye's residence slam open and a figure bursts inside, sleeves flapping as he darts towards them, Xifeng and the other guards hot on his heels.

Feiye whirls, lashing out with his sword, a blast of qi slamming towards the intruder who makes a complicated gesture and the wave of energy parts, flowing around him and instead tossing Xifeng and the others back out of the door.

"Shi'er-di??" Yuan Che gasps and Feiye twitches his sword aside from where it had been plunging towards Yuan Li's heart. Yuan Li clutches at the sleeve of Yuan Che's robe, theatrically hiding behind him from both Feiye's murderous glare and the guards who are now crowding back into the room, swords drawn and eyes fixed on Yuan Li.

"Shiyi-ge, don't let them kill me!" Yuan Li cries. "I didn't even do anything!"

"I don't know how he got inside, Dianxia," Xifeng apologizes to Feiye. "He was just suddenly there, running through the gardens—"

"What are you DOING here?" Yuan Che demands, staring at Yuan Li. "When—how—have you been here in Tian'ning this whole time?" It seems forever ago that Yuan Li had appeared without warning in the guest residence; the only part of the day that had never repeated itself.

Yuan Li ignores Yuan Che's question and the glares from others, instead looking around the rooms and doing an intentional double-take at the single bed with its double pillows and rumpled blankets. He tugs harder on Yuan Che's sleeve, dragging that side of the robe off Yuan Che's shoulder.

"Let go ," Yuan Che hisses, struggling to pull the robe back up, intensely conscious of the eyes of the numerous guards. Yuan Che elbows Yuan Li hard in the ribs and he releases his hold, wheezing. Then Yuan Li straightens and flicks a strand of hair out of his face.

"Of course I was here in Tian'ning," he declares. "I couldn't let my favorite brother be married off to some mystery man without making sure he meets the Yuan Li brother-in-law standards, could I?" He looks Feiye up and down, uncaring of the scene he's made by barging into Feiye's bedroom and meeting him in his sleepwear like this.

"I'm Yuan Li, twelfth prince of Dawei," he introduces himself with a bow that just borders on too shallow. "Pleased to meet you, brother-in-law."

Feiye inclines his head. "Likewise, Prince Li." He sheathes his sword, apparently deciding nothing poses an imminent threat. (Yuan Che wants to warn him that Yuan Li's presence always poses an imminent threat, although generally not to one's life. One's pride on the other hand...)

Feiye sends the guards away and orders Chu Xifeng to have breakfast brought for the three of them. Xifeng leaves reluctantly, glaring at Yuan Li who sticks out his tongue at him.

Feeling intensely underdressed, Yuan Che borrows a set of robes from Feiye. They're slightly too short in the sleeves and the hems dangle around his calves, but he feels infinitely better facing this conversation armored with multiple layers of fabric despite the unfamiliar cut and drape of the clothes.

Feiye's eyes linger on him when he emerges from behind the screen and Yuan Che fidgets, feeling self-conscious.

"Tian'ning fashion suits you," Feiye says, tugging a fold of the robe into its correct alignment. Yuan Che's throat goes dry at how close Feiye is standing, and the gentle brush of his fingers over fabric. Feiye steps back. "Don't spill anything on my robes."

Several servants enter and lay out breakfast on a square table in Feiye's study. The three of them settle down around it, one person per side.

Yi Huai appears with the servants, hovering protectively around Yuan Che and staring in disbelief at Yuan Li, who glares at him and Xifeng. Feiye waves them out and Yuan Che nods for Yi Huai to go. They retreat to the far side of the open doors, out of earshot but both keeping a watchful eye on the table and its occupants from a distance.

Yuan Li takes a bite of food and then grabs Yuan Che's wrist. Feiye twitches at the sudden movement; Yuan Che thinks he's suppressing a grab for a weapon. Yuan Li pushes Yuan Che's sleeve further up and examines the bracelet on his wrist.

Yuan Che blinks. He had...well, he had forgotten about it entirely, not realizing it was still on his wrist until this very moment. Feiye also looks startled and then suspicious, glaring at the silver jewelry as Yuan Li slides it off Yuan Che's wrist and rotates it in the light to check it over thoroughly.

"Shiyi-ge, what have you been DOING?" Yuan Li demands. "It's almost entirely drained! Do you know how much time I spent making this?" Yuan Che's mouth drops open in shock.

"I—that—it was you? YOU did this to me??" He wants to throttle Yuan Li; it seems suitable payback for all the suffering he went through.

"Well it's clearly a good thing I did! How many times did you use it?"

"I didn't USE anything!" Yuan Che protests. "YOUR cursed bracelet made me repeat the past few days twelve times!"

"TWELVE?!" Yuan Li splutters incoherently.

"Well it wasn't all me," Yuan Che says defensively. "At least half of them were him!" He gestures at Feiye who is watching the conversation with narrowed eyes.

"What?" Yuan Li blinks.

"It forced me back to the beginning whenever HE died, too," Yuan Che complains. Yuan Li's eyes flit between the two of them.

"That's...strange. It shouldn't work like that, I designed it to—hmm." He stares down at the bracelet in his hand suspiciously. Yuan Che shudders.

"Just take it away," he begs. Yuan Li tucks the bracelet into his robes with a shrug and an uncharacteristically thoughtful expression as he looks at Feiye as though sizing him up. He pops one of the small steamed buns they've been served with breakfast into his mouth and sighs happily.

"At least you've got excellent chefs here. You'll let me come visit and stay here all the time, right, Shiyi-ge?"

Yuan Che struggles internally for a second, his anger at Yuan Li over the cursed bracelet at war with his fondness for his brother.

"No," Feiye says, overlapping with Yuan Che's, "Of course."

Yuan Li smiles beneficently.

After breakfast Yuan Li departs, immune to Yuan Che's pleading eyes and requests for him to stay longer. He says he still has things to take care of, and he can't be gone for too long. He gives Yuan Che a goodbye hug, squeezing tightly, and Feiye a cheery wave as he trots out of Feiye's quarters. They don't hear the front gates of the manor opening, but Yuan Che knows he's gone.

Yuan Che and Feiye settle back at the table and Feiye brews tea, his posture and form exquisite and his wrist graceful as he pours for both of them. Yuan Che stares into his cup.

"I don't know what will happen today," he says. It's strangely freeing and terrifying, not to know. The possibilities stretch out before him, endless. Yuan Che is more than ready to begin living solely in the singular present.

"Well, my brother will likely summon me this afternoon or evening," Feiye says. "The fallout from what happened at the wedding banquet yesterday should keep everyone busy for a while." He says it with cold satisfaction, and Yuan Che swirls the tea in his cup, trying to find a way to phrase his concerns.

"The—any instability in the Tian'ning court won't affect the terms of the Dawei-Tian'ning alliance, will it?" He darts a glance up to Feiye's face. "If the Liang troops attack—my brother needs support at the border and—"

"You don't need to worry about that," Feiye says confidently. He meets Yuan Che's worried gaze and gives him the smallest hint of a smile. "Yuan Che, I have an army. Why do you think my brother is trying so hard to either control or get rid of me? He knows the soldiers are loyal to me , not the imperial throne."

Yuan Che's mind stumbles over the combination of relief from Feiye's words and hearing Feiye use his name instead of his title.

"In that case," he clears his throat nervously and straightens in his seat. "I'd like to—to propose an alliance. Not between Dawei and Tian'ning, but between Yuan Che and Long Feiye. In exchange for your promise of military support against the Liang threat, I'll do everything I can to help you fight your enemies in the Tian'ning court. And also..." Yuan Che may not be bringing as much to the table as Feiye, who has an entire army, but he's confident in the few skills he does have. "I have contacts I can reach out to in Dawei who might be able to find a solution to your" a vague gesture "gu problem. The Mages have powers and abilities that allow them to do the impossible. I'm certain we can research and develop a cure or treatment."

Yuan Che forces his shoulders not to hunch from nervousness and meets Feiye's gaze earnestly.

"I could agree to those terms," Feiye says. His eyes are serious when he asks, "Would it be a marriage alliance?"

Yuan Che swallows. "Yes," he says, putting all his determination into the word. "I think—I would like to be married to you, Prince Qin. If that's—" his voice squeaks on the last word "—agreeable?"

"It is agreeable." Feiye stands abruptly, stepping to the side of the table and holding out a hand for Yuan Che. When Yuan Che takes it, his grip is warm and strong, just as it had been that very first day in front of the carriage. Feiye's voice drops to a murmur as he pulls Yuan Che close.

"In that case, you owe me a wedding night, Prince Che." He stretches out one hand and uses his qi to push the large heavy doors of his personal quarters shut, a flagrant display of power that makes Yuan Che's breath catch.

Feiye reaches ever so slightly up, his palm warm on the side of Yuan Che's jaw, fingers sliding into the hair at the back of his neck. He tugs, and Yuan Che leans down eagerly to close the distance between their lips.

He knows what he wants, and now that the cursed bracelet is gone, he only gets one chance.

He's not going to waste it.