As the new day dawned upon a sleepless night, Binesi muttered a curse directed at every spy and politician in the Empire.

Protecting the foundling during the trip was stressful enough, but while he’d known the Citadel would be rife with danger and intrigue, he’d grossly underestimated how difficult this assignment would be. Since their arrival last night, he’d personally seen off seven attempted intrusions into the foundling’s manor, and spotted dozens more would-be intruders who thought better than to test his defences. As if that weren’t enough, he even had to bear the shame of letting three sneaky bastards slip by, where they were subsequently caught by the foundling’s Sentinel guards.

Binesi would’ve almost preferred if the intruders had gotten through all the foundling’s defences and roughed him up a bit. At least then he wouldn’t have to put up with smug Sentinels making snide comments about lacklustre Army training...

The worst part was, most of the intruders were benign in nature, or as harmless as one could get when dealing with rumour-mongers and mischief-makers. Everyone and their mothers wanted to meet with the foundling, but Binesi politely ‘advised’ him to limit his meetings to allies regarding matters of the utmost importance. Shockingly enough, the boy agreed without argument, and he spent a good hour before dinner and two after writing polite refusals for invitations to various social events, but so many of those poncy nobles and presumptuous merchants refused to take no for an answer. For some asinine reason, these idiots believed that if their agents could sneak past the foundling’s armed guards in the middle of the night and rouse him from his sleep, then he’d somehow be more amenable to attending their damned galas, luncheons, tea sessions, and whatnot. This wasn’t to say last night’s intruders all had benevolent intentions, but it irked Binesi to know that despite intercepting all manner of cutthroats, burglars, saboteurs, and spies from getting to the foundling, an urchin courier had somehow avoided his patrolling guards, slipped over the outer wall, and gotten far enough into the manor to almost slip a letter under the foundling’s door.

Binesi wasn’t buying the Sentinels’ excuses either, claiming they spotted the courier in advance and only acted after he made his intentions known. A load of horse shit is what that was. None of them saw the sneaksy little bastard until he threw the letter and was halfway up the wall again, off to deliver the rest of his parcels to various other clients. Disgraceful is what it was, a complete and utter loss of face for them all.

Were it up to him, Binesi would have kept the entire convoy camped out on the plains and the foundling confined to his yurt, but decorum demanded Colonel General Nian Zu and Marshal Yuzhen take up residence with their host, Central’s Marshal Yo Jeung-Hun. Bad enough to bring the foundling into a bustling city environment, where assassins might be hiding behind every unfamiliar corner, but high and mighty Falling Rain couldn’t possibly sleep in a secured soldier’s billet. No, he had to have his own bleeding manor, one right on the edge of the bleeding park, next to the bleeding pond, and backed on to a bleeding busy street with pedestrians a plenty. Were he not the brother of Central’s Marshal, Binesi would have choked the life out of the foundling’s ‘Uncle Yo’ for picking this death trap of a manor for them to stay in.

A more paranoid man might even suspect this Shi-Woo wanted Falling Rain dead, but the foundling was certain this couldn’t possibly be the case. Hardly reassuring, but Binesi’s job was to keep the foundling alive, not identify everyone who might harbour ill-intent. A good thing too, else he’d have to confess to his growing urge to throttle the foundling until he turned blue in the face. Not because Binesi wanted to kill him, but because it might turn him into a drooling nitwit and finally convince the Bekhai that Falling Rain was not capable of making sound decisions.

A fact the foundling proved himself several hours later, when Binesi’s much needed slumber was interrupted by a subordinate reporting that Falling Rain had requested they put together an armed escort for a mid-morning shopping trip. Snarling in unrestrained fury, he grabbed his spear, stormed out the room, and stomped his way across the courtyard. Or at least he tried to, until an all-white fur-ball barrelled right into his path, forcing him to stumble aside to avoid flattening it. The dumb rabbit didn’t even have the good sense to keep on hopping by, and instead stopped in place to paw at the stone path in utter ignorance of its close brush with death, flopping its ears from one side to the other while tilting its head this way and that. Strange, the foundling usually kept his rabbits out from underfoot, but today they’d all been left outside to their own devices, hopping, flopping, and generally ruining the lovely little courtyard garden. Resisting the urge to boot the idiot creature over the closest wall, Binesi muttered obscenities under his breath and gingerly picked his way through the rabbit-filled courtyard until he arrived at the manor’s dining room.

“I can’t tell if you’re daft or suicidal, you bleeding bastard of a Bekhai,” Binesi began, barging into the closed room without knocking, only to have his rant cut short by a muffled grunt as the swinging doors thudded against an unseen Sentinel. Stupid place to stand since your enemies weren’t going to knock before coming in, so he shot a contemptuous glare at the idiot guard for disrupting his rant.

Only for his next words to die in his throat as he found the Sword King glaring back.

The next second passed in excruciating lethargy as Binesi respectfully lowered his eyes before Ryo Dae Jung, the youngest Colonel General in all the Empire, only to immediately look up again to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. Mother in Heaven, why was the Sword King standing here, in the dining room of Falling Rain’s borrowed manor? Tearing his eyes away from Dae Jung’s gaze, Binesi surveyed the room and tried to make sense of this madness, while also double checking to see if he’d missed anyone else of importance, like say, the bloody fucking Emperor Himself or something.

In front of the Sword King was an unfamiliar young woman, whose face he couldn’t see. Since he didn’t dare lean forward to inspect her, he instead moved his gaze down the table, where it landed upon Du Min Gyu, whose expression was laced with sympathy as he politely stared into his cup. Beside him, Sarnai sipped her tea to hide her smile, taking some small measure of satisfaction from his plight but too polite to turn her twinkling eyes upon him and bear witness to his grievous loss of face. The same could not be said of the foundling beside her, who grinned and winked while hunched over his half-full plate, all the while shoveling food into his mouth like a man with a quota and a mind to reach it. The darling half-goat twins and the Imperial Consort were next in line, all three enjoying their meals with the same high-spirited delight and paying him no mind whatsoever as they quietly whispered and giggled at the wildcats and bears pressed together in the corner behind them. Then came the she-tiger Alsantset, who was still addled with Insight and liable to gnaw through her chopsticks if left unattended, which was why her husband, Fiery Eyes Charok, kept such a close watch while pointedly turning his back on Binesi.

So Sarnai and the other Bekhai knew how to behave, they just didn’t care to teach the foundling...

Last but not least, sitting two seats away from Charok and two seats away from the stranger, was the sole reason for the room’s cramped seating arrangements, the half-cat Song and her weasel-bear pet, the one she almost died to acquire. Better if she’d stayed in camp then, for even though the snarling weasel-bear bore a bright yellow ribbon tied in a neat little bow around its neck, this did nothing to take away from the fact that it was a nasty tempered beast that drooled everywhere and snapped at everyone who wasn’t Song. Even where Binesi stood, well out of arm’s length from both beast and girl, was too close for comfort, and not just because the beast’s bared fangs, Honed claws, and guttural growls made for an unsettling atmosphere. Perhaps it was the beast’s unrestrained anger, or perhaps it was the unsavory smell, but whatever the reason, Song and the weasel-bear sat alone, and neither one seemed to mind.

At least this explained why the rabbits were outside, the wildcats and bears were all huddled in the corner, and the Sword King was standing...

All this passed in the blink of an eye, or at least that’s how it felt to Binesi, but then Du Min Gyu, the sole sympathetic bystander to Binesi’s dire plight, Sent, “Might I suggest you apologize to Colonel General Ryo before he takes offense, Major?”

Time resumed its normal flow as Binesi returned to his senses, only to freeze once again in indecision. Should he bow first and apologize, or salute the Colonel General in accordance with military protocol? “This one’s offers his most humble apologies, Colonel General.” He saluted, bowed, and then saluted again for good measure, feeling his cheeks burn as the unfamiliar young lady stifled a giggle. “This one deserves a thousand deaths.”

“Told you he wouldn’t be pleased.” Grinning like a madman and speaking with mouth full, the foundling looked up from his breakfast and rudely gestured at Binesi and his guests with his chopsticks. “Major Binesi, this is Colonel General Ryo Dae Jung and his daughter, Warrant Officer First Grade Ryo Da’in. Major Binesi here is my commanding officer, and has ordered me to remain inside the manor at all times, no matter the circumstances. I believe his exact words were, ‘I don’t care if the building is on fire, you stay in your room and piss on the blaze until I say you can leave’.”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full or point with your chopsticks, boy,” Sarnai admonished, rapping Rain’s head far too lightly to hurt. “And watch your language too. That’s no way to speak at the dining table, especially not with children and guests present.” The last bit was directed at Binesi, whose cheeks burned even hotter beneath sweet Tali’s disapproving scowl, which melted away into a smile as the foundling reached over to pinch her cheeks. Adorable child, but Mother have mercy on her future husband, for she was spoiled rotten and feistier than her mother and grandmother combined.

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“Sorry for my poor manners.” No longer able to eat and speak, the foundling instead set his chopsticks to picking up a cube of butter and dropping it into his teacup, which he subsequently filled to the brim until the steaming, oily liquid shone in the mid-morning light. “Anyways, like I just explained, Colonel General, my hands are tied. Unless Major Binesi amends his orders, then I am manor-bound until further notice. I’ve been lashed before, and I’ll not willingly bare my back for it again.” Raising his cup in a toast to no one in particular, he downed his drink in one gulp, butter and all.

“I must know,” Da’in interjected, before Binesi could say anything to alleviate his awkward position. “Why put butter in your tea? Judging from your expression, it’s obviously not for the taste.”

“I can’t cultivate Chi,” the foundling replied, his teeth bared in a grimacing smile, “So I’m cultivating mass instead. If I fatten up, then I won’t shrivel up into a twig after my next inevitable Healing.”

“So pessimistic.” Daintily primping her short hair, which barely reached past her ears, Da’in turned to Binesi for the first time and favored him with a predatory smile. She didn’t mean anything by it, for her actions were innocent, innocuous, and some foolish men might even say girlish, but no amount of dresses, make-up, or jewelry could ever hide the fact that Ryo Da’in was a warrior and a killer in the truest sense of the words. She didn’t mean to exude threat and menace with her every movement and gesture, for this was simply her natural state, so similar to the contentious weasel-bear wrapped in its pretty bow, albeit easier on the eyes and nose. “Surely Major Binesi will agree,” Da’in began, her tone light and casual but her eyes sharp and piercing, “That there is nothing to fear with honoured father and myself here to guarantee your safety.”

With or without the Sword King literally standing behind her, Ryo Da’in made for an intimidating woman, but even if all three of Central’s Colonel Generals united together to lean on Binesi, it still wouldn’t be enough to make him break. After all, a Central Sword King was merely a Northern stable boy, or so the joke went. “Apologies, Warrant Officer Da’in,” he stated, without a hint of regret or contrition, “But this one was entrusted with Private Falling Rain’s safety by Colonel General Nian Zu himself.” Matching the Sword King’s steely gaze, he saluted, smiled, and said, “The boy stays. End of discussion.”

It took every scrap of self-discipline in Binesi’s body to keep his spear grounded instead of pointing it at the incensed Colonel General. As a mere Major, he could not afford to initiate hostilities, which meant giving the Sword King the opening move if things should come to blows, but it wouldn’t. Standing at full attention, he weathered the murderous glare and mounting antipathy with careless indifference, while the weasel-bear’s growls rose in both volume and frequency in the background.

Then Ryo Da’in sighed and the Sword King cracked a smile, offering Binesi a silent nod of apology before turning a stern, fatherly scowl upon his daughter. “You see? The Famed Fifty are well deserving of their reputation, and are not so easily cowed by rank or status. Young Rain was right to insist the Major be included.”

Now that was a surprise. Binesi had long since sussed out that this was a test to check if he was loyal or determined enough to his duty through to the end, but the foundling was the last person he expected to speak up for him. Perhaps it was merely self-preservation, as he wasn’t certain of the Ryo family’s allegiance and wanted Binesi there to guard him, which showed the foundling wasn’t entirely brainless, only mostly. Taking a moment to swallow his latest mouthful of food, Rain washed it down with another cup of buttered tea and said, “Bad news Major. As much as I’d like to sit around all day, I can’t.”

The foundling gestured at an unmarked envelope sitting on the table, and went back to eating while Binesi read it. Inside were two tickets to a showing of ‘The Whispering Wind’, along with a note which read, “The Peony Pavilion tea house has desserts to die for, though their tofu pudding is rather lacking.” There was no signature or seal denoting who the tickets were from, but evidently, the foundling already knew.

Politicians and their word games. “So what’s this mean then?”

“It means the Legate wants me out of the manor and go watch an opera show.” Again speaking with his mouth full, he pretended not to notice his mother’s glare and continued, “Then visit a tea house, where someone will definitely try to kill me and I will hopefully survive.” Another shrug. “Or I die, and I guess the Ryos have an excuse to wipe out whoever is behind the attack.”

“Why Rain,” Da’in cried, affecting a girlish pout. “How could you even think such a thing? As if I would ever shame myself with failure, intentionally or otherwise.”

“No offence,” the foundling replied, which all but guaranteed he was about to say something offensive, “But I’m still not entirely sure if the Legate believes my continued survival is in his best interests, so I can’t really trust the Legate’s minions.”

“Hmph.” Da’in scoffed as she interlocked her fingers together, no doubt in a conscious effort to keep her hands away from her swords. “I am no one’s minion.”

“You might think so, but that’s not how the Legate sees things.” Another shrug, followed by another sip of tea, and it astounded Binesi to see that Rain’s nonchalance was entirely genuine despite rising tensions. Even Binesi would have to treat Da’in with respect should it come to blows, but Rain took Bekhai Martial superiority for granted. “Imperial Nobles all tout about unity, alliance, and partnership, but only insofar as it serves them. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the only Eastern soldiers I’ve seen on the front lines were the ones assigned to guard me.” Casually pouring himself another cup of tea, he added, “Same goes for Divinities. If Guan Suo, Gang Shu, and the Abbot hadn’t come along with me, then there’d be no banquet for the heroes of Sinuji. Doubt there’d even be a funeral pyre.”

“Did it ever occur to you,” Ryo Dae Jung began, resting a hand on his daughter’s shoulder to rein her in, “That there was no Imperial Divinity stationed in Sinuji because you brought three with you? Contrary to what you might believe, Divinities do not grow on the side of the street like cabbages.”

“Sure, but I have never, in my entire life, seen a street-side cabbage.” Pretending not to notice the twins giggling at his disrespectful remark, the foundling shrugged and said, “Just saying.”

“Enough, boy.” Fed up with the foundling’s insolence, Du Min Gyu finally spoke up. “Regardless of your suspicions, the course is set. When you first received your invitation to the banquet, you told us the Legate ordered you to mend your tarnished reputation, so that is what you must do.”

And miracle of miracles, the foundling held his tongue instead of spouting off about rebellion in front of highly ranked military officers sworn to duty and alienating would-be allies from his cause. Maybe he was learning, or maybe he kept quiet because he was still busy chewing, but either way, Binesi didn’t give the foundling a chance to respond. “I will send word to the Colonel General to request assistance, but we should double your Death Corps guards to start, as a show of force.”

“Pretty sure it won’t help,” the foundling interjected, earning another rap on the head from his mother for speaking while eating. It clearly wasn’t working, and quite possibly was the reason Rain was so dumb in the first place, so Binesi dearly wished the famed Thorny Mountain Rose would try something different. “There are only so many people we can fit inside the opera theatre and tea house. Safest thing to do is not play their games.”

“Lord Husband is correct.” Joining the conversation for the first time, the Imperial Servant beamed prettily and added, “Strutting around the Citadel under heavy guard will do nothing to improve his reputation. With all the rumours of conflict flying about, it would mean much if Lord Husband set out as he normally does, with minimal visible guards and his pets trailing behind him. Such is his way, brave and courageous while lacking all airs and pretensions, which has endeared him to the common people before.”

For a moment, Binesi almost thought the Imperial Servant was baiting her Lord Husband to death, but then the foundling frowned and shook his head. “Much as I hate to say it, but the pets should all stay behind. There’s no sense bringing the animals out when we know we’re walking into a trap, though we’ll have to bring Ping Ping regardless. Plus, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the love of the common people isn’t exactly a valued commodity.”

Clever girl. If Binesi told the foundling to leave the pets behind, he would have dug in his heels and fought the order tooth and nail, but by suggesting he bring them out, the Imperial Consort forced him to consider the risks himself. Back and forth they went, discussing the preparations for this trip, and with Binesi’s dogged determination and Zheng Luo’s subtle and skilful manipulations, they eventually came up with an agreeable plan with a reasonable chance of success in keeping the foundling alive.

Their meeting over, Ryo Dae Jung brought his daughter away the same way they’d come in, shrouded in Concealment and without use of the manor doors. This coincidentally spared Binesi’s subordinate from a month of latrine inspection duty for not informing him that the Sword King had come to visit, but he still berated his sentries for missing it regardless. Then, he immediately changed all of his plans which didn’t involve the Ryo family, because he trusted them less than he trusted the foundling to act sensibly. Perhaps the Legate felt a Bekhai rebellion a small price to pay, or maybe he already had people in place to eliminate Baatar, Akanai, and the rest of the foundling’s supporters, but regardless of the reason, Binesi’s job was to keep Falling Rain alive, and alive the foundling would stay, no matter the cost.

The first hour went well, as the foundling simply sat in the park and played with his pets and the Guardian Turtle, though it took great effort on his part to retain his dignity while doing so. It didn’t help that the weasel-bear wasn’t having any of it, snarling viciously every time the foundling or one of his pets looked in its direction, and almost taking off the boy’s hand when he refused to heed its all too obvious warnings. Song didn’t help matters much by coddling the fierce creature the entire time, though Binesi wasn’t certain if her actions were to calm the weasel-bear, or restrain it.

The next step was to bring the Guardian Turtle out on a stroll through the Citadel, but most streets hadn’t been built with her massive bulk in mind, which made their route painfully predictable. Binesi’s Concealed subordinates ranged ahead to scout his route while the Death Corps guards maintained a close perimeter around the foundling, but he was still more exposed than Binesi would like. At least Sarnai was there with the foundling, a formidable warrior in her own right, as well as multiple hidden Bannermen guarding him from the shadows. The boy was as well protected as circumstances would allow, and certainly better guarded than most nobles, but one could never be too careful with the fate of the Empire hanging in the balance.

Still, as he assessed and dismissed possible threats while paying mind to their overall situation, there was a small, almost infinitesimally tiny part of Binesi’s mind which hoped the foundling’s enemies would attack, and a handful of assassins did make it through. Not because he wished the foundling harm or wanted the Bekhai to rebel, but because the quickest way for Falling Rain to mend his reputation was to slaughter his enemies with ease, the same way he’d slaughtered three Demons barehanded back in Sinuji, only this time, it would be nice if he did so in front of thousands of impartial civilian witnesses. A risky gamble to take, considering the foundling had no control over his strength, but after five days of stressful travel, two mitigated attacks, seven attempted intrusions, and an entire sleepless night, this nerve-wracking shopping trip might just well be the straw that broke Binesi’s back.

And there was still the opera show, the tea house, and two whole days before the banquet itself.

All in all, it was almost enough to make a proud, but tired, mountain warrior cry...

Chapter Meme