Fragrant aroma wafted all around their cramped dressing room, drowning out the plain smell of soap on flesh. Aided by the sweetness of pipe weed from the south of Ko’Eri. The noise of frantic movement and panicked rushing filled the space. Muttered apologies wafted about, flesh slapped together. Curses followed the cutting of silk, linens and cloth. Others murmured familiar phrases, while glass vials clinked together. Jewellery clattered and precious metals scratched. Despite all that, the mirror ahead kept her eyes.

  A woman, dark for a Tiger, stared back at her from the clear glass. Hazel-green eyes and recently plucked eyebrows. Brown freckles spotted her cheekbones and some of her nose. Their faded appearance almost tempted her hand. Instead, she tilted her face and admired the curve of her jaw. Her face was slender without appearing gaunt, and yet there remained a fullness about her.

  She chose the most scarlet of paints for her lips and pouted their fullness while caressing them with a smooth brush. Her flesh prickled with the eyes falling on her, but she remained fixed on her mirror. The redness remained perfect even as she rubbed her lips together. Next came her kohl, which was dwindling faster than she would like. Thanks to the war, she hoped the trade lanes would open soon.

  The blackness extended her eyelashes and the ends of her eyebrows. It deepened the illusion, shifted her appearance away from her Tiger blood to her supposed Lion. She didn’t know how Lions painted their faces, but whatever she did it seemed enough to impress their patrons.

  “Mistress,” a quivering inquiry came her way.

  “Hmm?”

  “Might I… uh, please may I use that vial of yours?”

  She abandoned her mirror and glanced at a snow pale girl with dark eyes. Her cheeks blotched with red in an instant when she smiled. A new one, there were always new ones whenever their duty could resume. Fresh faced, perhaps one dreadful night away from deciding this was far from what she thought it would be.

  What was her name, it slipped her mind.

  “I am Yuri, mistress.”

  “Of course.”

  Yuri turned as pink as the contents within the vial she asked for. Her neck length dark hair squared her face. A tight fringe tickled the top of her eyebrows, with her plump cheeks hidden beneath the side strands.

  “Keep it, the colour suits you far more.”

  “Thank you, mistress, thank you!”

  “You’re welcome baby,” Yuri beamed at her, but she instantly regretted her words.

  She sounded like her mother, and it churned her own stomach. It reminded her of her own age, forty would be approaching soon, less than five years away now. Though she did not look like one, thank the Great Beast, she didn’t enjoy reminding herself that her time was short. Then again, perhaps she would find patrons who enjoyed an aged woman.

  “Jiao,” a confident voice called from behind.

  She sighed as she caressed her bald head and turned towards Itsuo.

  “I’m not ready yet.”

  “I know, but maybe we should speak before the chaos?”

  Itsuo was sturdy, tall and a rock of a man. Clean shaven as always, with watchful eyes. His dark head of hair was silky smooth, in a plan topknot with red silk keeping it in place.

  Jiao sighed, then stood beside him. Another reminder of her age.

  “Everyone!” He clapped.

  “Flowers!” The rest stilled when she clapped. So many fresh faces stared back.

  Not all would be new to the duty of pleasure of course, then again, the war, despite it being a short one, dwindled their numbers. Yet of the fifteen she saw, ten bore none of the creases of time.

  “Welcome, officially, to The Garden,” Itsuo continued. “I feel the excitement growing within this room already. Some of you are familiar with what will come, but most of you are relatively new to this, I am sure.”

  Yuri’s awed-filled gaze never left her while Itsuo spoke. She preferred his voice, hers never had his strength.

  “These are strange times for all of us in truth. The end of a civil war. It might have been a short one, but I still caution you all. We are all Flowers here at The Garden, and its reputation demands peace from all of you. There will be many Tigers here licking their wounds, seeking any excuse to take out the loss against the Lions upon you. A Flower you must be.”

  All of their attention was on them, save for one, who was beyond their duty. Jiao watched the darkened corner to the left, shrouded in shadows with a hooded figure leaning against a wooden post with their arms crossed.

  “If anyone attempts to pluck your petals, Master Guo over there will be your shield.”

  Guo waved their gauntleted hands from the shadows, still hiding their face. Jiao liked Guo, silent for a Tamer, always out of the way until needed. In truth, she didn’t care for Bagha with golden or red eyes, Guo’s Tamed always sent shivers up her spine.

  “Please do not fear reporting any mistreatment from patrons, or even from us. The laws of Bag’Jagaal are in our favour. Speak up, it will save you from any rare mishap.”

  She noticed a few of their eager faces waver, then rushed to caress his hand to place his next words upon a lighter path.

  “If you have questions, ask me, Mistress Jiao or Master Guo. Do not forget to enjoy yourselves please, by the Beast, why else did we choose this duty?”

  Polite laughter followed his humour, and the buzz of activity returned to the room. Everyone returned to their preparations, while the shadowed corner brightened. Master Guo vanished with their darkness, no doubt downstairs to ready the common room for opening.

  “What are you wearing?” Itsuo asked.

  She eyed the scarlet silk scarf wrapped around his neck, draping down his bare chest with a smirk. His entire torso exposed for all to enjoy, with its rippling muscles, aided by fragrant oil and subtle scars. A black and white obi wrapped around his waist, with a gaudy rose stitched to its front. Unfortunately, a black hakama deprived every one of his sturdy legs. Still, it was remarkably plain despite the rich fabric.

  “Something better than that.”

  “Sheer silks and jewels?”

  “My wig alone surpasses everything you’re wearing,” Jiao smirked as she placed the dark wig of shining curls atop her head. The bronze ends chimed together while she adjusted and kept it in place. She tugged and pulled after a while until she trusted it. Itsuo’s reflection in her mirror didn’t share her humour.

  “Since when do you care about what I wear?”

  “Jiao, it’s one thing to dress as Lions do, but you actually look like one without the kohl, the wig, and sky-blue silks… Beast woman. The warning was mostly for you, I know you listen little, but please. Maybe you should lessen the kohl?”

  “You don’t need to flatter me, I’ll show you how I work my magic after tonight, but don’t blame me if you fall in love.”

  “Jiao.”

  “I’ll be fine Itsuo, really. I appreciate it but there is no need to worry. Tensions were at their worst before the war started.”

  “Master Guo said there are more Tamers than usual.”

  “Good, Tamers know what they’re doing,” Itsuo’s grim visage lingered. She pecked his cheek and wiped off her lip print. “Master Guo is more than capable, and I’m sure you won’t allow anything to happen as well. Relax, heed your own words and enjoy tonight!”

  His seriousness continued right until she watched his shoulders drop. She slapped his stony stomach with a chuckle and forced on all her bronze jewellery. Under his protective gaze.

  The common room was vast and awash in luxury. Colourful silks draped the warm wooden columns, masking the ceiling. Lanterns glowed with a dim amber light, setting an intimate mood. Cushions littered the floor, ringing around low tables of exquisite darkwood. Thick mats protected most of the wooden floor, but the common room permitted nothing harder than slippers. Patrons left their boots outside, slipping their socked feet into provided slippers in the foyer.

  Ten booths filled the space as well, each big enough to seat five within their privacy. Some possessed curtains, others darkwood sliding doors, but sound always escaped muffled, regardless. Of course, there was no lovemaking allowed within them, at least the sort that required total privacy. Beyond the common room there were plenty of private rooms, bedecked with everything to suit every desire.

  At the far end of the common room burned the only incense they required, to call it incense was an understatement. A vinewood torch blazed with perfect, statuesque fire. In all her years in The Garden, she had only seen one vinewood torch burn to the stub. Its aroma was unlike any other, and unique to everyone. Old Hiroki claimed he didn’t need perfume at all while a vinewood torch burned. Jiao wasn’t prepared to take that risk. That man’s musk seemed to be a part of his allure. Tonight, she smelled fresh cut grass during an early morning coated with dew.

  It was a quiet evening, despite the excitement of reopening. She expected as much, though it took a few reassuring looks from herself and Itsuo to stifle the growing disappointment amongst the newbies. Besides, Itsuo’s caution worked, the smaller numbers were a subtle comfort.

  Jiao lingered in the shadows, sipping her rationed wine, there was a three-cup limit in The Garden, and watched everyone else go about their business. Only two pairs made their way to the private rooms, arm in arm, whispering and digging beneath each other’s clothes.

  Master Guo yawned into their hand in a dark corner, and Jiao caught their eye. Their mask lowered and onyx orbs glittering with fire beckoned her. Jiao floated towards the Tamer and felt a prickle at the back of her neck. She caressed it and sipped her wine, winning a frown from their watchful Tamer.

  “Quiet night,” Jiao began.

  Guo grunted.

  “Seen anything suspicious?”

  “If I did, mistress, would you want to know?”

  A chill rushed down her spine, unaided by Guo’s ominous words. Their voice was often gruff, a trait shared amongst soldiers, but there was always something gentle about Guo. Tamers were strong beyond her comprehension, so she knew not to underestimate them. Jiao rubbed the rising fine hairs at the back of her neck again.

  “What do you do to troublemakers, I’ve always wondered?”

  “I persuade them mistress,” a hint of a smile twitched Guo’s scarred lips.

  “And?”

  Guo’s dark eyes lifted away from her, the chill and prickling sensation ravaged her back once more.

  “Duty calls mistress,” Guo whispered so softly she almost missed it.

  Jiao spun around and shook herself free from the strangeness coming over her to watch a hooded figure approach. It unsettled her, but she fought herself, remaining passive while she studied the richness of the cloak. The hood lowered to reveal a man with a sharp jaw, grizzled by a dark beard with hints of grey. His topknot was messy, with tufts of white on both of his temples, though they appeared to be recent additions, considering their small size.

  “Mistress?” He inquired, and her nose drowned in the pleasure of fresh cut grass and dew.

  “Jiao,” she squeaked.

  He bowed lower than she deserved. There was an air of nobility about him. Faint creases on his square face complimented the rugged handsomeness. But something more, something ineffably wrong, if she were harsh.

  “Lion nobles usually wear rings on their toes as well, and paint them,” he muttered, eyes still down there. “Painted lacquer as well, and on your hands. Yet you are still magnificent.”

  His smile was kind, but unnerving beneath it. She prickled with discomfort, while her nose enjoyed the scent. The confusion stole her tongue.

  “Genji Seiichi,” he bowed again. Then a blink later he was gone, leaving her frozen on the spot.

  The disquiet gone, and the aroma now waning, Jiao shook herself back to life. She spun around with a hand over her heart, words bulging her cheeks, only to find Master Guo gone.

  #

  “You’re sure he said that?”

  “Yes!” Jiao was a picture of calm, but her hand refused to colour her face. Rather she didn’t trust it, the trembling would have made a mess.

  “Lord Genji?”

  “Seiichi, yes.”

  “Do you realise he is the second cousin once removed from the throne?”

  “You have made that abundantly clear in the last hour yes, thank you very much.”

  Jiao readied in her private room on a higher floor of The Garden. Up here was hers and Itsuo’s home, and where he demanded she stay when she shared the name from the night before. Her face was rather plain, with only the slightest amount of kohl around her eyes.

  “How are you not more… I don’t know?”

  “What would you have me do?”

  “He made you uncomfortable…”

  “And also not, though the discomfort was much less.”

  “Yet he commented on your appearance?”

  “It was advice!”

  “I think it is a warning Jiao, you should be careful.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  She wanted to fight against his caution, but her hand still quaked. Cracks formed on her calm expression in the mirror. The evening was brisk, and an icy chill whistled into their private quarters. Not even that was enough of an excuse for her shivering.

  Itsuo paused his pacing, constantly adjusting his robes with restless fingers. Both of them were plain compared to the night before, and more covered. Not any less alluring, she’d like to think, but in truth, that was far from her mind at the moment. She did the best she could to finish her face, darkening her lips with a blackberry colour.

  “Listen, it’s likely he won’t come tonight,”

  “Why?”

  “Wait! Trust me, he won’t, in the meantime, play it safe. He may still send others to watch. I will discover all there is to know, hopefully Guo’s claims of a greater number tonight will yield some answers.”

  “What if he is truly interested in me?”

  She caught Itsuo’s disbelief before he wiped it from his face. It didn’t wound her as he feared, instead she smiled and rose from her seat. Jiao embraced him without ruining his robes with her still unsettled makeup and looked up at him with a beaming smile.

  “I will not abandon you, dear Itsuo, nor will I allow you to walk this life alone.”

  “Promises you have little control over are empty,” Itsuo fought his smirk. “Telling me not to worry about you only stresses me further.”

  “We have been together for decades, nearly without incident.”

  “It’s this war Jiao, you haven’t heard what they say. It might have been a short one, but the burning rage against the Lions,” Itsuo couldn’t finish it. Jiao smiled, hiding her own trepidation before they were called to their duty.

  He did not show up, as Itsuo predicted. The common room was indeed busier, though Guo and their Tamed dark Bagha ushered many out. The beast showed its stygian black presence in order to deter the numbers. Its silver streaks brightened every shadowed corner it appeared in, with scarlet eyes glowing like fire. A hulking beast, though the common room was more than large enough for the quiet presence.

  Jiao was observant but anti-social. She hung on every hint of negativity directed towards her. Infected by Itsuo’s endless paranoia. A collection of side glances and whispered conversations between a pair. Empty smiles quickly dropped when they thought she wouldn’t notice. Jiao felt like the Lion she often played, especially with her bald head.

  She wriggled her toes within her socks and felt the rings grind against each other. Her eyes jumped around the busy common room, maintaining an air of welcome on her face. Many flocked to her still, but she gently rejected them all, which might have been the cause for much of the disapproval. Jiao watched and waited for the familiar face to appear again. The aroma from the vinewood torch changed into something she didn’t recognise, but one she decided belonged to Lord Genji.

  He didn’t return, and the next night duty demanded she entertain all who yearned for her services. It was colder on the third night, and she was more covered, wearing a wig of sleek black hair tied into an organised bun. Still, they called her Lion. All her rejections from the night before, only encouraged more of them to return, with fatter purses. Itsuo would have grumbled at her if she didn’t at least entertain them.

  #

  Before the fourth night, Itsuo dragged her aside, back up to their quarters to dress in private. Once again, the man became a bundle of anxiety, pacing up and down while she sat before her mirror. Back reflected on it, she watched him build up the courage to speak.

  “I take it you discovered something?”

  “He is out of favour with the twins!”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’ve heard it said both emperors mull over his potential demise,” Itsuo didn’t infect her now. It had been two nights of calm and getting used to the staring. Lord Genji hadn’t returned, and she resumed her Lion appearance. “They’ve executed the mother of his child already, and it is said the child went missing long ago. He is a broken man on the edge of a cliff.”

  “Then he is seeking comfort, there, nothing nefarious.”

  “Jiao, his favouring you may put a target on your back.”

  “I will not marry the man; I will simply do my duty. The throne wouldn’t stoop so low.”

  “Oh, don’t be so na?ve,” Itsuo snapped, then waved an apologetic hand at her. “It’s said Tamers become erratic after heavy losses such as that.”

  “He’s a Tamer?”

  “Jiao!”

  “What? He hasn’t returned so far, why worry? Master Guo has voiced no concern, why should you?”

  Thankfully Itsuo didn’t continue his fight. He grumbled as his pacing slowed, but she lifted when there were no words against her. The man paused then shifted, tapping his fingers then his shoulders slumped, before softening his creased face.

  “Let’s enjoy tonight, okay?”

  “Safely, I hope,” Jiao mocked.

  Jiao wore loose flowing silks and revealed her skin for the patrons. It garnered her desired reaction. The tension of the war was long forgotten and the buzzing excitement spread amongst them. Who would be the first to win the Lion amongst them? She beamed at all of them, even the more vulgar, who weren’t that many in fairness.

  Even the most reserved gave away the hunger in their eyes. Faces without expression, but eyes sparkling with desire. She was used to picking out the suitable ones from an eager crowd, and tonight it was a burly woman with a gentle face. Her short chestnut hair pricked her shoulders, silky smooth and straight, beneath a decorative wine-red shawl. The eyes jumped away from her often, ringed with dark eyeliner, until she met Jiao’s gaze.

  They shared a smile, and the woman blushed. She seemed uncomfortable in her rich robes, with a sun darkened complexion. A soldier, no question about it, Jiao couldn’t resist their shyness. The woman’s cheeks blazed red when she approached, disappointing everyone else who sought her attention.

  “I didn’t think I was worthy, master,” she began, bowing lower than Jiao deserved. She maintained her composure despite her surprise.

  “Master?” Jiao asked, but her mind already found the answer. A Tamer.

  “Forgive me, is that not a rank in your duty?”

  “Do I suggest a masterful ability in lovemaking?”

  “The mere pleasure of your extraordinary attention weakens my knees.”

  Oh, she was very good, elevating her gruff comeliness. She wrapped her arm around Jiao’s, giving away her enhanced might despite her soft touch. Even the most experienced of Tamers forgot their own strength, at least it wasn’t hard enough to bruise.

  “Are Tamers capable of weakness?”

  “Enhanced strength and senses, an Unblessed’s cravings might agonise, imagine enhanced lust?”

  “I look forward to enjoying it, master?”

  “Master Dal-Rae, if it pleases you Master Jiao.”

  Another surprise, a descendant of Dangun no less. The few who remained hardly revealed their ancestry to other Tigers, especially in the Dhaar Province. Jiao was ready to perform at her best.

  “I’m pleased already,” she said.

  “Would you mind joining me and a friend in our booth?”

  “Not at all, lead the way.”

  Jiao caught a hint of dew and cut grass in the air. Not from Dal-Rae, though the Tamer smelled sweet. The aroma strengthened as they neared the vinewood torch at the other end of the common room, where the largest of all the booths waited. Its sliding door shut, hiding the mysterious other within.

  Jiao caught a hint of dew and cut grass in the air. Not from Dal-Rae, though the Tamer smelled sweet. The aroma strengthened as they neared the vinewood torch at the other end of the common room, where the largest of all the booths waited. Its sliding door shut, hiding the mysterious other within.

  “Do you enjoy sharing Master Dal-Rae?”

  “Please, there is no need for such formality, I’m not noble, and I suffer it more than I care for daily.”

  Jiao hummed.

  “And no, I do not enjoy sharing, but this is not that. We were hoping you would choose.”

  “I see,” Jiao said. She drowned in the scent by now, standing before the shut booth door.

  Dal-Rae opened it, revealing a dimly lit, but extravagant interior. Jiao stepped in, but couldn’t focus against the overpowering, yet pleasurable scent. A figure smiled at her; one she didn’t recognise until the sliding door clicked shut behind her.

  “Forgive me,” Lord Genji said, and her entire body turned to ice. “I see you heeded my advice.”

  The wrongness returned to taint the aroma. She saw the desperation in his eyes, a different sort of hunger. One that both beckoned and repelled her. Itsuo’s concern entered her mind, it was Lord Genji’s grief.

  “Please, sit, I seem to have instilled fear in you. I mean no harm, I swear.”

  “No,” her voice cracked, lips quivering. “Thank you.”

  Jiao sat as far away as she could without insulting him. His ineffability made her growing discomfort all the more infuriating. The vinewood torch suggested she wanted this, and yet Itsuo’s warning blared in her mind.

  “Master Dal-Rae is unknown here in Bag’Jagaal. She is a close friend, and offered herself as collateral, in a sense, for you to have… leverage over me. Dangun’s descendants are not in favour, well they’ve never been in favour amongst their fellow Tigers in truth. A public execution would follow should word reach the throne that I am harbouring her.”

  Jiao’s jaw dropped while she listened to him. His impressive, rather intimidating aura, vanished in an instant the longer he spoke. Lord Genji’s voice quavered, it cracked often, his eyes sparked with a deep longing that only filled her with pity.

  “I suppose your Lion blood might make you familiar with such prejudice,” he said, though it sounded as if he spoke to himself.

  “Lord Genji,” she said.

  “Seiichi, please.”

  “Wh… why?”

  “The same reason others frequent such establishments, though in my case it is specifically loneliness.” He chuckled, then cleared his throat, eyes mournful. “Of course, you look so much like her.”

  “Lord… Seiichi, incestuous play… the price is steep.”

  “Incestuous? Oh dear, you have learned of… oh no.”

  “I do not wish to chase you away,” she comforted him. “Nor do I speak with judgement.”

  “One thousand gold squares?”

  Jiao gulped.

  May the Great Beast curse me for hesitating!

  There was no shaking off the worry, the wrongness about the man, but it was his grief, she knew it to be so.

  A Tamer’s grief, Beast protect him.

  “That is worth three Gardens, with change to spare.”

  “Double that then, I must have… oh dear, I do not wish to suggest ownership,” it must have been powerful grief to lay him so low. “You are priceless my … please consider it.”

  Under any other circumstance, there was no consideration. An instant agreement, she could retire with the percentage owed to The Garden alone. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to pleasure such a man, there was little comfort she could give him, right?

  “I was, she promised me. Opal promised this would,” Lord Genji grimaced when she jumped. She caught that strange word, and a chill sparked through her spine. It was something she should not have heard.

  “I am sorry, I forget how unsettling it is to hear the name of a dead Tamed for a Tamer, let alone an Unblessed. The coin is compensation, I am sure The Garden benefits from your duty. I could triple it, a third of it just for you?”

  The scent of fresh cut grass and dew never left her, and this time Itsuo’s caution reminded her of her discomfort.

  What about Itsuo?

  “What do you say?”

  #

  Itsuo paced the common room, having drained a bottle of wine already. Morning light shone through the windows, warming the empty common room. It might have been a beautiful sight if Jiao was here to share it with him. A successful night, with plenty of gold to celebrate.

  Damn that woman!

  After all his warnings, his concern, his softened words, she refused to listen! How many times would she put herself in danger? A constant about her ever since they were fresh faces in The Garden years ago. There had been some scares, a few times where he was involved, admittedly, but this was something else entirely.

  A bronze jug clattered to the right, and Itsuo jumped, pausing his pacing as he narrowed his eyes at the darkness growing in a pitch-black corner. Red eyes and silver stripes emerged first, before Master Guo stepped out of the blackness.

  “What did you find, where is she, is she all right?”

  “Itsuo,” Guo sighed, scratching their jaw. “She followed the law, left behind payment that more than justifies her departure and we both know she did it willingly.”

  “Did you report it?”

  “The presence of laws is a comfort, but they do not deter its breakers, and let’s be honest here, the law…”

  “Did you report it Guo?”

  “I did, to minimal interest.”

  Itsuo nibbled his bottom lip and resumed his pacing while Guo cleared his mess. He ignored their attempts to calm him, letting mentions of Lord Genji and his nobility pass through him.

  “If you are desperate, could we reveal Lord Genji is the alleged perpetrator?”

  “And make her an inadvertent enemy of the twins?”

  “They have a bitter temper towards their cousin, I suspect another civil war awaits on the near horizon, amongst Tigers alone.”

  #

  The following weeks weighed heavily on him. During the first he managed a few outings into their common room. But in the second month he remained cooped up in his room, piling over scribbles of information he asked the other Flowers to extract. In the third month a few of the Flowers left, but The Garden never failed to keep a full common room night after night. Despite him sending away his usual clients, only Master Guo saw him, with concern etched on their face every time.

  In the middle of the fourth month of his seclusion, patrols marched through the streets, shouting decrees from the throne.

  “Any citizen of Bag’Jagaal harbouring enemies of the Tiger Clan will receive equal criminal charges to those they protect.”

  Soon ‘enemies’ faded away, and ‘traitors’ took its place. Despite his knowing of Jiao’s involvement, his information network failed to garner anything stronger than rumours on Lord Genji and his apparently restored family.

  Whispers of violence returned, and The Garden’s nights dwindled in numbers. Brawls became commonplace, as factions rose in the streets of Bag’Jagaal. Six months after Jiao’s disappearance Itsuo finally emerged from his cave on the upper levels of The Garden. There were less than ten of them now, not counting himself and Master Guo, who remained, and they all looked to him for comfort.

  He must have seemed ghastly, for everyone struggled to hide their concern, shock and subtle disgust. Itsuo muttered some empty comforts, telling them they were free to leave if they so wished, but The Garden would remain open. All of them did, at least half promised to return, though he didn’t care. It meant more space for solitude.

  #

  Itsuo emptied the stores of their bar in the common room, lounging upon cushions, staring at the open doors as a rusty sunset coloured the gloomy drizzle outside. He sipped on a clear glass of false water, and shuddered at the fire swirling in his mouth, before it seared down his throat. It was from the second jug that day, but there was no getting used to it.

  His head swam and his body refused to adjust without knocking over empty glasses and bottles. Master Guo lingered in a corner, their eyes on him, no doubt with worry dancing on their face. All that remained was his obsession now, nothing more.

  Itsuo didn’t notice the clatter of a table, nor the singing of steel as Master Guo and their Tamed dark Bagha darted for the door. The jian sword glittered with a hint of the sunset glowing within, revealing the strange markings that littered every Tamer’s weapon. He sat up when a hooded figure appeared at the door, emitting steam and remaining dry with their arms raised.

  “Itsuo!” Guo cried. “This was the one who left with them.”

  He stumbled to his feet, breaking his half-filled glass as he wobbled to the door.

  “I come on behalf of Lady Genji Aisha-Jiao, heir to the Genji seat,” the hooded woman bowed, then revealed her face as she stepped in. Guo’s sword remained raised.

  “She did not trust the written word to make it to you, and so I came to speak in her name.”

  “Who’re you?” Itsuo slurred.

  “Master Dal-Rae,” she whispered, then stepped inside. Guo sheathed their sword. “My lady sends her apologies to Itsuo, who she sees as her closest friend, a brother from her old life. She hopes he did not suffer during the months of her death, for now that she is reborn, she hopes The Garden remains an institution of high repute.”

  “What is this? Is she alive?”

  “My lady has heard whispers of your work, and hopes it has not ended. She hopes The Garden remains open despite the threat of the throne.”

  “Tell me damn you!”

  “The house of Genji is lonely no more, Itsuo,” Master Dal-Rae smiled as Guo shut the doors.

  Itsuo’s mind sobered with his surging joy. His eyes welled with relief and he almost embraced the master Tamer. He took a moment to recover, clearing his throat and adjusting himself. Then the coded words struck him.

  Master Guo glanced at him with an eagerness he’d never seen before and felt his own heart race.

  “How may I be of service to Lady Genji?”

  Master Dal-Rae beamed at him after whipping off her cloak, she nodded towards a booth and Itsuo rushed to follow, with Master Guo in tow.

  Damn that woman, Itsuo chuckled to himself.

  Ever eager to put herself in danger.