Xian filled his time waiting for the Semetran delegation by trying to gather as much intelligence as he could concerning the Rathanian royal family, and their current status. Even if he didn't learn anything new, he could at the least confirm or refute any information that had been provided by previous Lotuses.

  He confirmed that Guardian Nire was still very much an influential member of the Rathanian court, despite being what historical records indicated was little more than a bodyguard and servant. He also confirmed that Guardian Nire had inducted her oldest son into the ranks of the fledgling Guardian Corps. Xian recalled that historically, a Guardian should only be tied to a single royal. But whatever war had caused the shadow wall to cut off Rathania from the realm had also wiped out the Guardian Corps, leaving Nire as the last survivor (a mystery that, while intriguing, was not one Xian had been tasked to investigate).

  But those limited numbers meant that the ratio of Guardian to royal was still woefully unbalanced. Like his mother before him, Dloc di Nire was trying to serve an entire generation of royals, though his job was much more difficult due to the number of charges under his care, as well as the age ranges of said charges.

  Which meant that Xian only had to worry about two fully-fledged Guardians wandering the castle. If a Guardian in person was half as unsettling as the curse on Guardian Nire's office door then Xian would be more than happy to never cross paths with one.

  Xian also confirmed that Princess Samiya of Zylinth was not as captive as reports had originally suggested. She was being closely watched by the Rathanians, true; but considering the rather amorous exchange between her and the Crown Prince Retniw, she didn't appear to be in much distress. Granted, he knew better than most how appearances could be deceiving. Prince Retniw could have taken a liking to the foreign princess and, left with no other means to defend herself in enemy lands, accepted the prince's advances as a means to use his good graces to protect herself. It could also be a matter of Princess Samiya, after facing the horrors of her father's murder and subsequent kidnapping by the Rathanians, had convinced herself that she had formed a bond with one of her captors.

  And those were just the options that didn't factor in mathuat or magic. There was no telling what the prince might have done to the princess if Rathanian magic was involved.

  But whatever level of Princess Samiya’s level of consent was, Xian had managed to ascertain the purpose for the Rathanians keeping her: the Rathanians intended to replace Sultan Aboiye with his sister. Perhaps that was the reason behind Prince Retniw’s actions, to get Rathania’s chosen candidate for the sultanate as compliant with Rathania as possible.

  It was what Xian would do, if he had the power and position to do so. It was a solid strategy.

  All this, he reported back to Jangmi. On occasion, she would send her hawk back with instructions for follow up information, or orders to learn some other detail about the royal family.

  Xian wasn’t sure why he needed to confirm the existence of an abandoned nursery, but it wasn’t important for him to know, only to get the information Jangmi needed, so she could deliver it to her superiors.

  By the time Xian received instructions to meet the Semetra delegation outside Traverse, Xian’s hair was not nearly long enough to pass as anything above a newly indentured servant, let alone one with high enough ranking to accompany the delegation to an international event.But there was nothing for it. He wasn't a Rathanian, he couldn't make the flow of time go any faster or slower just because he willed it.

  So Xian made due by dressing in his nicest clothes and made his way to the inn where the Semetran delegation was staying the night prior to their arrival in Traverse. It was somewhat unsettling, walking into the inn and not having a clear objective laid out before him. Sure, he knew he was to infiltrate the delegation, but the how was the tricky part; this wasn't a stealth mission, he couldn't hide from them, and the members of the delegation would surely know if one of their ranks wasn't familiar.

  "Ah, zhizi, there you are!"

  Xian blinked as he realized that not only was he being the one addressed, but that it was Jangmi who was crossing through the inn to greet him.

  Jangmi was all smiles as she reached up and pinched his cheeks, "Oh you have gotten so tall! You don't eat nearly enough!" Xian found himself awkwardly hunched over as Jangmi pulled him into a smothering embrace. As Jangmi turned her head to presumably press a kiss to his cheek, her breath ghosted against his neck, "Your name is Tian Fengxian, the youngest son of my brother. You were getting into mischief and running with a bad sort, so your father apprenticed you to a sailor, where you've been traveling the past year. You happen to be docked in Traverse bringing supplies to the coronation."

  Xian nodded, committing the cover story to memory as he returned the embrace, "I eat plenty, aunty. Don't believe everything mother tells you."

  "I only need to believe half," Jangmi patted his cheek, "Come, we're about to enjoy supper. You can tell me all about your journey!"

  It felt all too easy to allow himself to drift within the persona Jangmi had given him. He answered questions from the other delegation members about ships he had never been on, the cost of trade goods that Xian only knew through studies, places he had never been, and the captain and crew who never existed outside of Xian's imagination. He laughed at the stories the older men told, he accepted the good-natured ribbing about the state of his hair and when he planned to settle down and become an honest man.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Tian Fengxian was dreadfully dull, but he served his purpose well enough.

  "Well, before you head back to the city, you should go up and greet your uncle," Jangmi patted his hand, and Xian felt his blood run cold. Who could possibly be playing the role of uncle if Jangmi was his aunt?

  Xian only knew a few candidates, and he dreaded the possibility of him being right.

  "Of course, aunty," Xian nodded, standing slowly and offering a small bow.

  Jangmi nodded in turn, "Second floor, last door on the right."

  Xian nodded again, his feet carrying to the staircase while his mind was already trying to resurface from Tian Fengxian. Did Jangmi plan to have him maintain this cover to infiltrate the delegation? A nephew ruffian-turned-sailor hardly seemed like the most credible addition to a diplomatic envoy, but perhaps Xian should leave those decisions to those who knew better than he.

  When he got to the door in question, Xian rapped his knuckles in the rhythm that had been drilled into him from a young age.

  "Enter."

  Xian closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He could not show any signs of weakness. He slowly opened his eyes once more as he opened the door once more.

  Akita Kurekage sat near the room's desk, his elbows braced against the arms of the chair while his fingers remained steepled.

  "Shut the door behind you," The Gardener instructed, his dark eyes looking through Xian.

  Xian nodded, closing the door behind him without a sound. Then, Xian crossed the room, instinctively kneeling in front of Akita as he awaited orders.

  "I have read your reports," The man began, eyes never leaving Xian, "But I want to hear it once more, from your lips."

  "Yes, sir," Xian replied. He recounted everything he had learned from Traverse: the cabinet meeting between the remaining queens and their consorts regarding the coronation and the debate regarding inviting Semetra or Zilynth, the status of Princess Samiya within the castle walls and her somewhat questionable relationship between her and Prince Retniw, to say nothing of Xian’s suspicions.

  "Do not be so arrogant as to assume to know what these Rathanians are planning," The Gardener interrupted Xian, and Xian felt like he was eight years old again trying to recite his Common lesson without stuttering. "They do not follow logic as Semetrans do. They are wild, chaotic, and impulsive. Do not discount the possibility that the Heir of Water took the Zilynthian princess simply because he wanted her."

  Xian grit his teeth. He had thought of that possibility, but he was also trying to consider the possibilities that would impact Semetra most.

  "Forgive my impudence, master," he said instead, bowing with his face nearly to the floor. He held the bow, knowing better than to rise without permission.

  A moment passed. Then another. Xian could hear Akita shift in his chair, the creak of the wood of him standing.

  Something flat and cool pressed down on Xian's right hand, the grit of dirt rubbing into his skin. Akita's boot. The boot pressed down harder, and Xian fought every instinct screaming at him to extricate his hand. If the Gardener crushed Xian's hand under his boot, he would be all but useless as a Lotus, and Xian knew what Akita did to those he deemed useless.

  But Xian also knew what Akita did with those he found cowardly. So Xian did not move, not even as he felt the bones in his hand grind against each other.

  Finally, the pressure abated, and the foot was removed from Xian's hand.

  "Don't let it happen again," Came the Gardener's voice, "Sit up."

  Xian obeyed, ignoring the desire to flex his sore hand and keeping his eyes on the floor, even if that meant staring at Akita's boots.

  A hand ran through Xian's hair, and Xian repressed a shudder. "Still woefully short," The Gardener muttered, "But serviceable for the task."

  The hand was mercifully gone as Akita moved to pick up something from the table. When the hand was back on Xian's head, he could also feel cool strands brush against his shoulders.

  A wig, he realized.

  "This should be more than long enough for you to pass as an aide," Akita mused, "And your hair is barely long enough to fasten it in place."

  Xian bit back a wince as he felt the sharp, teeth-like clasps bite into the roots of his hair, as well as his scalp. If the Gardener was aware of Xian's discomfort, he showed no sign of caring. By the time he was done, Xian could feel the beginning of a headache forming at his temples.

  "There. You should be able to put it up into a scholar's knot now."

  "Thank you, sir," Xian murmured, though his voice was little more than an over-glorified whisper.

  Akita continued to stare at Xian as if he were a rather unimpressive piece of poetry, "Those clothes will be far too plain for you to be a member of the delegation. Take them off."

  Xian knew his clothes were too plain for the delegation, but he hadn't exactly packed his fine silks. If he had owned any. But there was no arguing with Akita when he gave an order, so Xian went about shrugging out of his outer layer of clothes. By the time he stood in only his inner garments, the Gardener had brought out a simple hanfu of dove gray.

  "This will at least pass as respectable travel attire of one of your presumed station," he explained, handing the robe to Xian for him to dress himself.

  Xian didn't bother asking how many clothes were brought for him to carry out his role in the delegation, or how anyone in the Lotus Pond knew his measurements. There was just some things that it was better off not knowing the answer to.

  But even after he had dressed himself, Xian couldn't bring himself to look at his reflection in the vanity mirror. On one hand, he was wearing finer clothes than he had ever worn since he was a child, wearing his hair in a scholar's knot; respectable and honorable. But on the other hand, the body wearing those things would not match the face looking back at him in the mirror. It was foolish, and if Xian ever voiced such such feelings within earshot of Akita, he would have had the notion beaten out of him thoroughly.

  The Gardener hummed, as if appraising Xian like an art piece, "That should satisfy any curious minds," He nodded, "You're to play the role of my aide. As far as the rest of the delegation knows, you were delayed in traveling with the rest of the delegation because you were caring for your ailing grandmother, but you made your own journey here so as not to miss the coronation."

  "Understood, sir," Xian said calmly, gently rubbing his thumb and forefinger against the soft fabric. Not silk, but certainly soft...though, if he were honest with himself, the action was more of a distraction from thinking too much about just how much time he would be spending with Akita and Jangmi.

  But Xian knew that there were limits to what even a goddess could do.