Xian studied under Jangmi for what felt like years, perfecting his knowledge of Rathanian politics and customs for when he inevitably would be deployed behind enemy lines. Why Xian hadn't already been sent, he wasn't sure, but he also wasn't going to question Jabidanche's mercy. These would most likely be his last few days of peace before the end, he would have to cherish them as much as possible.

  On occasion, Jangmi would deploy Xian to infiltrate the court as a servant, observing and learning what he could before reporting back to her. That was the first time Xian had gotten a glimpse of the Rathanians.

  He had known that there was to be a summit with Rathania to discuss their current trade deals and standing treaties. With how much trade occurred between Rathania and Semetra, the two largest kingdoms in the realm, it was natural that relations remained positive enough for the sake of trade. Even the Rathanians could understand the wisdom of economics, on occasion.

  However, that prior knowledge had not prepared Xian for seeing the Rathanian delegation for the first time. Xian had hidden himself in the crowd of servants, preparing the tables for the upcoming summit as the guests of honor made their entrance. He recognized the Rathanian style well enough from his studies, especially the overabundance of color they seemed to prefer. No doubt Semetra would stand to make a fortune if they could leavy the proper prices on pigments. Then the Rathanians seemed to part to make way for the head of their delegation.

  The woman was clearly of high rank, if the deference shown by the Rathanians present wasn't enough indication, then the wealth in her attire would have been more than enough. The gown alone would have cost several years' salaries for the average Semetran: The goldenrod silk was dyed with marigold orange in artistic representations of roses along the train, and even several similar motifs were embroidered with red and gold thread along the sleeves and her bodice. If the ensemble had been entirely red, Xian might have mistaken her for a princess on her way to her wedding. But that was a Semetran practice, Rathanians didn't see red as a matrimonial color.

  But considering the bright red stone in the center of the woman's golden diadem, Xian could quickly bring the pieces together.

  Queen Alexela li Gaae, the current Crown of Fire. The Throne of Fire was known for its representations in red, so it would not have been out of place for the queen to arrive entirely in red. Though it seemed the Rathanian queen had forgone her own traditional attire for the sake of the trade summit. Perhaps not wanting to give the wrong idea about her arrival? She was already married, after all.

  The Rathanian queen gave a respectful nod to the gathered governors on the Emperor's behalf, taking her seat at the low table with little effort, kneeling with practiced ease.

  It was common courtesy for tea to be shared before business was discussed, and it just so happened that tea was one of the few things that both Semetrans and Rathanians seemed to both enjoy quite a bit. In fact, if Xian's economic lessons were to be believed, Rathanians drank almost as much tea as Semetrans. Not as much, but almost, which was respectable in its own right. But as Xian glanced about the room, he realized that while the servants had rushed to serve the governors, there was quite a bit of hesitation to approach the Rathanian delegation.

  Fools and cowards, the lot of them. If they hesitated much longer, the Rathanians would notice they were being served last, which was bound to impact the upcoming trade talks. If those impacts were great enough, it could ripple outward to affect every Semetran who relied on Rathanian goods. To say nothing of the punishment they would receive for not doing their jobs.

  He knew his orders were to remain hidden, to gather information discreetly. But there could be no discretion if the situation became glaringly obvious. Xian bit back an annoyed sigh, turning to the servant next to him and taking the tea tray from his hands.

  "I'll do it," He murmured to the servant, before turning and quickly making his way to the Rathanian tables.

  Even if Xian had not been trained extensively in court matters for the sake of blending in, it would have been shameful if he, as a Semetran, did not know how to pour a cup of tea. He knelt before the Rathanian tables, taking the plates and cups from his tray and placing them before each Rathanian, beginning with the foreign queen.

  With movements practiced a thousand times, Xian filled each cup to the precise fill line, not allowing a single drop to escape the porcelain spout and stain the silk table runner (memories of hot tea overturned on his head for such a mistake were still vivid in his mind, no matter how long ago they might have been). But before Xian could bow and take his leave, a hand rested on his, stopping his movement. Xian turned his attention to the hand, and more importantly, to the foreign queen to whom it was attached.

  He had assumed that a queen's hands would be soft, free from the toil of common folk. The paleness of her skin would suggest such a thing. But Xian could feel the slightly hardened texture of calluses on Queen Alexela's fingers, though he could also smell the faintest aroma of roses and orange oil. A hand cream, perhaps. But what sort of work could a queen possibly be doing that would cause calluses?

  But more curious than the feel of the queen's hand on his was the fact that Queen Alexela seemed to be looking directly at him. Even as Xian tried to keep his gaze respectfully downcast, he tried his best to observe what he could. He had seen a few artistic representations of the Rathanian royal family, but it was still entirely different to see the queen's pale blue eyes looking at him, sparkling with something Xian couldn't quite identify.

  The queen's cheeks were the same petal pink as some of the famed wild roses Rathania was known for, though Xian could not tell if that was from a natural flush or the work of luxury cosmetics. They seemed to grow rosier as her mouth pulled back into a smile.

  "Thank you for the tea," She said gently. "And thank you for the hospitality."

  Her Semetran sounded as if she had grown up her entire life in Xuyuan, but Xian refused to let himself be surprised by that. What he had read about Queen Alexela had claimed that the Crown of Fire was able to speak every known language in the realm. And while Xian was reluctant to believe such an outlandish claim, it would make sense for the queen to know Semetran after all; everyone should know Semetran.

  Xian didn't reply to the queen. He was far below her station, even if he had been an actual servant. Instead, he hoped she would be placated with a bow of his head.

  The smile on the queen's face dimmed slightly, but she nonetheless released his hand. Xian completed his duties as quickly as he could, performing a complete bow before taking the tea tray and vanishing once more into the anonymity of the crowd of attendants.

  A year had passed since the exchange with Rathanian royalty, and though Jangmi had scolded him for acting without orders, even she had concluded that his actions had been the most prudent given the circumstances.

  But Xian couldn't help feeling that there was a great change on the horizon. He had been training in Semetra for too long, his days were numbered, and he had a feeling that that number was dwindling quickly.

  Sure enough, one morning when Xian went to meet with Jangmi to continue his studies on the inner workings of Rathania, he was instead met with a table full of traveling supplies.

  "Plans have changed," Jangmi said, anticipating his unspoken question, "It appears the Rathanians have started picking a fight with the Zilynthians."

  Xian raised an eyebrow at that. That was unusual, there was no evidence that Rathania had any ill relations with Zilynth. If anything, the Rathanians were annoyingly neutral towards everyone besides Aneia. "I take it something happened to spark this sudden aggression?"

  "According to the Lotuses in Zilynth, the Crown of Water made several accusations toward the Zilynthian Sultanate after several of the Rathanian heirs vanished during a royal coming-of-age ceremony." Jangmi handed Xian a collection of documents, "The heirs have since been returned, and there is no evidence to suggest that Zilynth had any part of the whole debacle. But Zilynth is not taking the insult lightly."

  "I imagine they wouldn't," Xian admitted, reading over the documents provided to him, "Any formal declarations of war?"

  Jangmi shook her head, "None so far. The Rathanians are sending a delegation to Zilynth to issue a formal apology and discuss methods to repair diplomatic relations."

  This was the first time Rathania had made such a major misstep diplomatically in over a century. Zilynth was bound to try and take advantage of the situation if they were smart. Though, if the reports from the Zilythian Lotuses were to be believed, Zilynth was also facing some strife of its own. It was close to time for the Sultan to declare his heir, so there was a great deal of infighting occurring among the sultan's older children. The Sultan would have to be very careful navigating this meeting with the Rathanians. And the Rathanians would have to tread carefully if they wanted to avoid a war.

  "We have to move up your deployment into Rathania," Jangmi stated, "We managed to get bits and pieces of the situation from our Zilynth Lotuses, but we missed out on valuable intelligence leading into this situation. We cannot afford to lose any more."

  Xian's stomach dropped to the floor. It was finally time. His reprieve was over, and it would be time for him to venture into enemy lands.

  He nodded, "For the glory of Semetra, for the honor of her Emperor." His words felt empty as he began packing up his supplies for the journey into Rathania. "When do I leave?"

  "At sundown." Jangmi didn't so much as spare Xian a second glance as she moved to peruse the rest of the intelligence that had been provided to them.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  Xian did his best to calm his racing heart. One more year. He just had to survive one more year; keep his sanity intact for one more year. Then...

  Then it wouldn't matter.

  Xian watched the sun creep closer and closer to the horizon, knowing that this would very well be the last sunset he would ever see in Xuyuan. He would probably have only a handful more sunsets in Semetra at all before he crossed the Rathanian border. It was funny, he hadn't paid much attention to things like sunsets before; perhaps it was knowing how finite things were that they suddenly became valuable.

  Jangmi met Xian outside the temple, leading a horse by the lead.

  "Trade this horse for a Rathanian horse once you cross the border," She instructed, before handing him a small wooden pendant on a chain, "keep this on your person if you are not actively infiltrating a location. This will be how my hawk will find you to give you further instructions and for you to report back."

  Xian nodded, taking the pendant and immediately placing it around his neck. The chances that he would receive further instructions while he was on the road were quite high, especially given how volatile the situation currently was.

  With how volatile Zilynth was, and how unpredictable Rathania could be, there was no telling what would happen before Xian even reached the border.

  Xian rode for three days, sleeping off the beaten path and only staying in inns when it was absolutely necessary. Jangmi had not exactly given him an excessive number of coins to spend, after all, and there was no telling when his next allowance would be given. Besides, skipping nights in an inn meant Xian would have more money to spend elsewhere.

  It was not strictly necessary for Xian to stop in Fenzhou, in fact, it was half a day's journey off the direct road to Rathania. If Jangmi had been with him, she would have given him hell to pay, to say nothing of what the Gardener would have done to him if he ever learned of Xian's indiscretion.

  But Xian had been taught to be secretive. If he kept secrets from those who taught him, they only had themselves to blame.

  As Xian walked his horse to the stables on the outskirts of Fenzhou, his gaze wandered to the towering structure that formed the center of the city.

  The Empyrean Citadel, the temple of Tanjoshi, and the mansion of the dead. Xian had only heard stories of the twisting, mismatched tower, but there was still something unsettling about seeing it in person. Then again, perhaps Xian was just uneasy about desecrating another holy place with his presence.

  The streets of Fenzhou were moderately busy, causing Xian to be especially cautious of his steps, doing his best to avoid bumping into anyone, when he heard the barkers for various shopkeepers that lined the central road. Fine incense, fresh fruits and baked goods, prayers for the departed, the list went on; everything a traveler might need last minute before they visited the dead. Xian limited himself to buying a small bundle of clove incense, two red bean buns, and a stick of tanghulu, which already made him glad he went without sleeping in an inn all those nights. It wasn't much, but he hoped it would be enough.

  When a priest of Tanjoshi approached Xian, he declined the offer of prayers for the departed.

  "I merely came to pay my respects and share a meal," he said, keeping his voice calm, and unassuming. Unremarkable and unrememberable.

  Entering the Empyrean Citadel was a surreal experience, and Xian was glad for the crowds of bewildered pilgrims as they masked his amazement. If the Citadel was a marvel on the outside, then it was nothing short of a labyrinth on the inside. Finding a quiet corner within the twists and turns was a challenge in itself, but Xian was an expert on finding hidden places.

  He had no altar cloth, just a spare handkerchief from his pack, but he smoothed the small cotton square as best he could before placing the buns in the center. He lit three of the incense sticks, pausing for a moment to allow the incense to smolder, releasing their all too familiar aroma into the air.

  Closing his eyes, Xian held the incense before him, bowing deeply. "I'm so sorry I haven't given you any offerings, A-die."

  His voice was a whisper, but even that much took more effort than Xian would care to admit. Slowly, Xian lowered himself into a kneel, then into a full kowtow, the three sticks of incense still perfectly fanned in his hands.

  "I promise you, A-die, I have not forgotten you. I did not mean to be unfilial... this was just the first chance I had to come visit you," Xian bit his lip as he spoke more to the floor than any lingering spirits, "This may also be my last chance to visit you, A-die... the Emperor has given me a task in Rathania...I am unlikely to survive my assignment, but I know it is for the good of Semetra and the will of the gods."

  There was a knot in his throat, one he defiantly tried to swallow down, and along with it the question he wanted to ask " Instead, he cleared his throat, "My work for the Emperor will bring you honor, A-die, I promise. Just...be patient while you are here. There is no need to hurry your journey through these halls... the next time I enter these halls, I hope it will be a sign that you can enter the next cycle."

  Xian left out the part that it would be very likely that the next time he entered the Empyrean Citadel, it would be as a spirit himself. Instead, he rose from his kowtow, placing the three incense in one of the buns, taking the other bun as he shared one last "meal" with his A-die.

  It was only three days later, when Xian had only just made camp outside the town of Tengchang that he received his first hawk from Jangmi. Seeing the bird of prey circle over his camp brought an ominous feeling, but there was no helping it. The moment the hawk landed on his arm, Xian unhooked the small canister fastened to his leg, allowing the bird to roost on a nearby branch while Xian read. But as Xian slowly pulled on the spool of paper, he almost couldn’t believe the characters he was reading.

  Xian stared down at the missive in his hands, reading and rereading the message in hopes it would make sense.

  A Daughter of Gaae had been killed. Whatever faux pas Rathania might have committed in unjustly accusing Zilynth of the abduction of their heirs, if Rathania chose to go to war against Zilynth, they would be completely justified.

  The last time Rathania had gone to war, it had been with itself.

  The last time Rathania had gone to war, the kingdom had vanished from the map for twenty years.

  The next week was little more than a blur to Xian: pushing his horse (and himself) to travel as far and as fast as possible, sleeping fitfully under the stars each night, and keeping his eyes on the sky for any updates from Jangmi about the situation.

  By the time Xian made it to the Rathanian border, he was so exhausted that he almost forgot that he was supposed to be uneasy about crossing the border. Almost, but not quite. But for all the dread Xian had been feeling leading up to the moment, it was rather anticlimactic. One morning, he left Juijing on the Semetran side of the border, and that evening, he arrived in Suihua, the first town on the Rathanian side of the border. There was no wall of shadows to pass through, no trial of mad magic, in fact, there had barely been a change in the maintenance of the roads.

  But the deeper into Rathania Xian traveled, the more he could feel the sense of wrongness that lingered in the air of Rathania.

  More and more towns hung white banners from windows, though some of the more modest homes seemed to make due with white table clothes if they could spare them. White, the color of mourning in Rathania. It was one of the few similarities in culture that Rathania shared with Semetra. Though Xian was amazed at how quickly the citizens of Rathania had learned of their queen's death, let alone how quickly they were to put together their mourning displays. Perhaps news traveled fast in Rathania; bad news usually did.

  When Xian arrived at the capital city of Traverse, the uneasy feeling in his gut had twisted itself into a knot of unspeakable dread. In all of Xian's studies, Traverse had always been described as a city bursting with color (Rathanians adored color in every aspect of their lives, to them, color was synonymous with life), with Traverse castle standing like a crown jewel at the center of its own island. But as Xian walked his horse through the Traverse streets, it was obvious that the signs of mourning he had seen before had been modest. Every window had a white flag billowing like a sail caught in the wind, several doors had splashed white paint, covering the previous bright color they sported before.

  Women walked the streets with white veils covering their faces. Men wore plain white tunics, while children had large white sashes tied around their waists or across their chests.

  Xian had been forced to duck into an alley and remove his outer garments. While walking around in his thin inner tunic felt terribly exposed, it was far better to blend in with the mourning Rathanians at this point. It had been shortly after Xian had begun walking down the main street with his white attire that he noticed the shift in the crowd. Where previously, the citizens were going about what business they had to do (there were little to no casual conversations of outings, it seemed), there seemed to be an air of anticipation lingering over each Rathanian that stood in the Traverse streets. More were exiting buildings to fill the streets. For a moment, Xian felt panic grip his heart. Had he been made? Was the madness even impacting Rathanians? Did that mean no one was safe?

  It was then that Xian noticed that every Rathanian was facing one direction. When Xian followed their gaze, he realized they were all facing the Traverse main gates.

  More importantly, what was approaching those gates.

  Xian could only stare, as dumbstruck as the Rathanians that stood around him. Even from a distance, it was clear to see that a royal procession was making its way into the city. There was no flag waving from any of the carriages, the soldiers in front did not call for a herald, but there was no mistaking who those carriages belonged to. He understood that he was supposed to make sure he was in Traverse before the Rathanian royal family returned from Zilynth, and while he was glad that his detour to Fenzhou had not cost him, he could not for the life of him understand how every Rathanian in the street had known the carriage would arrive when it did. He had heard no chatter of rumors, no suspicions of when the Rathanians would return, and yet every citizen had seemingly felt the arrival of their Queens and heirs and had responded without being ordered.

  It made a chill run down Xian's spine to think about. But Xian was stuck standing where he was, lest he draw attention by being unaffected by the royal caravan. Instead, he found himself watching alongside the rest of the citizens as the royals made their way through the city streets to the castle.

  There was no seeing into any of the carriages, the curtains had been drawn shut to block out the outside world, but Xian knew well enough who from the royal family had made the trip to Zilynth. The Crowns of Water and Fire, Elreina and Alexela li Gaae, as well as heir apparent to the throne of Fire, Prince Naes di Alexela, the heir apparent for the throne of water, Prince Retniw di Elreina, and Prince Retniw's twin sister, Princess Nevaeh li Elreina.

  Xian couldn't help but wonder how they were transporting Queen Alexela's body if they were not using a funeral procession. Though the more pressing matter Xian had to sort out was if the rumors regarding the Rathanians taking a Zilynthian princess hostage had any sort of validity. If the Rathanians had done something as brash as kidnapping a princess, something they themselves had accused Zilynth of doing at the beginning of the entire debacle... What did that mean for the rest of the realm?

  Whatever planning Xian had intended to make regarding his infiltration of Traverse castle was interrupted when the wailing began. No sooner had the carriages containing the returning royals, and possibly the body of Queen Alexela, passed through the streets than every citizen seemed to take this as an invitation to begin weeping in the streets. Tears flowed down seemingly every person's face, even the men, and some had even taken to loudly sobbing in the middle of the streets.

  It made no sense. If this had been the funeral procession, Xian could understand the need for public displays of mourning. He knew in Mecadet, one could make a profession out of being a public mourner. Even some of the more wealthy families in Semetra would hire local widows to wail especially loud at funerals. But now, they were wailing for nothing but a couple of closed carriages and a procession of knights, there was no need for dramatics.

  Xian had to quickly duck his head, doing his best to hide the fact he was not weeping with the others. The madness had not reached him yet, but it was still only his first day in the city.

  There was still time.