Kael pushed open the wooden door, his damp hair trailing moisture down his shoulders, darkening the fabric. Droplets slid from his hair tips, tracing paths along his skin.
Lucian leaned lazily against a carved vinewood screen, a jade pendant shaped like twin fish suddenly stilled between his fingers. Caught off guard for a moment, he looked away and asked,
"Tell me—what happened?"
As Kael recounted the morning's events, his Adam's apple bobbed with each word, and his fingers nervously fidgeted with the hem of his borrowed robe.
Lucian poured tea from a gilded ewer, its steam weaving warm mists between them. The crackling brazier gave off a faint sandalwood scent.
"Why were you out alone? Someone of your standing usually has a carriage and guards."
"I snuck out," Kael admitted, sipping tea. "My brother grounded me."
Lucian raised a brow. "What did you do to offend him this time?"
Kael rolled his eyes and slammed the cup down. "You can guess."
"Let me try," Lucian wiped a tea splash from his wrist with a silk cloth, speaking lightly. "A fire from the heavens, rumors flooding the streets..."
He leaned in, voice low:
"Don't you think these disguised soldiers appearing in the southern districts might be connected to all this?"
"My brother is already investigating."
"So I heard. But word has it the Emperor assigned the matter to the Second Prince."
A shadow crossed Kael's face. "My brother may know him well, but theirs is a friendship of civility. Nothing more."
"The Emperor might not see it that way," Lucian dropped a sugar pearl into his mouth. "They likely haven't connected the two incidents yet."
A gust of wind stirred the painted lattice windows. Kael gazed toward them, lost in thought.
Lucian broke the silence. "I can help you."
"Why?"
A mischievous glint sparked in Lucian's eye. "I'm a helpful soul. A good citizen of Southcourt. Didn't you know?"
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Aren't you from elsewhere?"
"Doesn't mean I can't be one now."
As Lucian moved past, his dark robe swept dust from an old cabinet. Kael's eyes followed him before suddenly reaching for his sash pocket.
Lucian noticed. "What did you lose?"
"My inkstone. Must have dropped it while fleeing."
He rushed toward the door, but Lucian stopped him with a gentle touch.
"It's probably long gone."
Lucian smirked.
Kael frowned. "What's funny?"
"You're wearing my robe. How would you even know what you have on you?"
Silence lingered for a beat. Then Kael sniffed.
Lucian smiled. "Hungry?"
Kael's stomach answered for him with a well-timed grumble.
-
In the kitchen, Lucian rolled up his sleeves, revealing a bandaged forearm. Bamboo shoots bloomed into orchid-like slices beneath his blade, and mushrooms danced under the rhythm of his chopping.
When fire roared from the clay stove, the broth in the stone pot gurgled, misting the latticed windows.
Glazed pork shank simmered in golden glaze. The scent of star anise and rice wine hung in the air, curling through the screen like incense.
Kael bit into a trembling piece of meat and wrinkled his nose. "The pickled greens are sweet... but the shank is a bit tough."
Lucian's spoon paused midair. "Apologies. I'm not much of a chef. But with such esteemed critique, I may improve next time."
His smile shimmered in the broth's oily sheen.
-
After the meal, Kael rose and accidentally knocked over the silk cushion.
"I have to go. If I stay longer, my brother will notice I'm missing."
Lucian spun an empty teacup by the rim. "Shall I escort you?"
"No need."
Suddenly, Lucian caught his wrist. "I worry about you."
Kael shook him off, his hair brushing his ear. "We've known each other for four days. This is the third time we've met."
Lucian grinned, stepping back. "Three encounters, one shared bath. A relationship rich in tradition."
Kael flung open the carved door. A gust of autumn wind rushed in—and he ran straight into a pair of smiling almond eyes.
Lady Yinhale stood ten paces away, clad in a silver fox cloak. A pearl hairpin shimmered coldly at her temple.
"BANG!"
He slammed the door shut, exhaling sharply.
When he opened it again, she was already walking up the steps, golden embroidery trailing over white stone.
"I knew you were here."
Kael forced a smile and stepped back—only to bump into Lucian behind him.
"Lady Yinhale... how did you know I was in Eastmarket?"
"The coachman told me you had planned to come here two days ago. I took a guess."
Her gaze flicked past Kael to Lucian.
"And this is...?"
"A friend," Kael said too quickly.
Lucian blinked, then leaned in with a mischievous grin. "A moment ago, Lord Kael said we were nothing to each other."
Kael wished he could melt into the floor.
Lady Yinhale smiled like a rising moon. "So my little Kael has finally made a friend."
Lucian bowed. "My name is Lucian."
Kael whispered, "She's my sister-in-law. I just call her Sister out of habit."
Lucian straightened. "Lady Yinhale, my deepest apologies for the earlier impropriety."
"No need for formalities," she said kindly. "Thank you for looking after him."
She looked at Kael, amusement twinkling in her eyes. "This is the first time I've heard you talk about a friend."
Kael tugged her sleeve. "Sister, don't tell my brother. Please."
Lucian chuckled softly behind them.
"What am I not telling him? That you snuck out? Or that you have a friend now?"
"Neither!"
She patted his head. "Come. Let's go home."
As they approached the carriage, Kael called out again.
"Don't worry. Your brother left early and won't return until late. And with me here, no servant would dare tattle."
Kael threw his arms around her. "I knew you were the best."
The two disappeared into the carriage. Lucian watched them vanish at the end of the street.
-
-
-
At the alley's edge, the man in the fur coat stirred, dust falling from a haystack. He pulled a broken inkstone from the grass.
The engraved words "Year 27 of Crown" were muddied, and red stains seeped into the cracks like blood frozen in twilight.
He held the piece aloft toward the last rays of sunset, its fractured silhouette catching the mist of a nearby noodle stall.