Three tapped on her master’s shoulder. ‘Your Highness,’ she said, ‘a maid is following you.’ She paused, then clenched her teeth. ‘She had paper in her hand. Do prevent some vital information from leaking, won’t you? I wouldn’t want for my lovely master to die so young, after all.’

  The princess flinched, then whipped around with an angry hiss. Impatience pstered all over that face, she snapped, ‘That’s the Sixth Prince’s maid. She’s probably stolen my schedule to sell to the Fourth Princess.’

  Wow, even her own brother?

  ‘You must be terrible in social skills, right?’ She jabbed the princess in the back with a finger, ughing, ‘Even I had more friends than you. At least they wouldn’t actively try to kill me, hahaha.’

  ‘Oh?’ The princess sneered, ‘Then are those who don’t kill you your friends? You might as well keep company with dogs.’

  Three, in her pin maid’s get-up, crossed her arms and sprouted a vicious smile. ‘Oh, Your Highness, I apologise. It would be an insult to compare a dog to your standards of comradery.’

  To the dog, that was.

  ‘Jump and spin four times. Stick your tongue out.’

  She rolled her eyes and spun. It took her quite the effort to jump and not bite her tongue off.

  She sighed.

  Walking. How very boring.

  When Prince Qianzhong said he wouldn’t give his daughter anything, he had been deadly serious — to avoid his fellow officials’ specutions or whispers of his possible support for his daughter, only his son, the Sixth Prince, was allowed to use the estate’s carriage. He had left his eldest daughter and her ‘maid’ with no choice but to walk to the imperial academy.

  The walk wasn’t a long one, but the air was cold enough for Three’s breaths to turn cloudy. Even now, though the princess wrested her shivers under her skin, shallow swathes of goosebumps yered at her porcein nape. Shadows danced across it, thin like cicada wings.

  She sneered.

  Suffer, little princess.

  The jasmine vines covered the entirety of the imperial pace. It was rather fascinating, but at the same time incredibly vexing; was the pace garden’s budget so small the eunuchs could only afford jasmine blossoms? Or was it embezzlement?

  The princess had seemingly memorised the way; she walked in an unhesitating manner through the maze of white blossoms, Three following all the way behind, until they came to a grand complex of pagodas and halls.

  The imperial academy was less one building than it was a series of such. They were all connected by winding, pruned paths of smoothed tiles and bridges that leaped over koi ponds. Most of the garden flowed in rings around rger pagodas — presumably, the main study or dining halls.

  ‘Since you’re a maid and not a study companion,’ the princess said, ‘you won’t be allowed to enter the study hall with me. Do so discreetly. Alert me if that guard Four arrives, or his trap is set prematurely.’

  ‘Yes, Your Highness.’ Three nearly knelt on habit but quickly forced a curtsy. Maids didn’t kneel. They would bend their knees with their hands over their left hips instead. ‘This servant shall take her leave.’

  The princess nodded insufferably, then walked away into the red-gold pace building.

  Three watched her go.

  She glided around the gardens, strolling a few ps. Then, she gave a quick gnce around — nothing strange — and climbed up the jasmine.

  Then, sneaking through the panel in the wall, she slid between the rafters into the belly of the study hall’s roof.

  Gritty powder lodged under her nails. The wooden beams were dusty, with little bundles of grey, not unlike a miniature sea of clouds. Below, a warm golden glow lit up the hall, sunlight streaming in alongside sets of candles and mps.

  Clinging to the shadows, she gently peered down — all seven heirs had come today, some accompanied by study partners. The First and Second Prince, both wearing orange and purple respectively, were accompanied by a boy each; Fourth and Fifth had girls; Third, Sixth, and Seventh had none.

  The First Prince seemed to seriously consider his partner as a friend. Seated beside each other, the boy in his simple robes was excepted from the whole I-bow-to-you-and-you-nod-at-me ordeal, simply grinning a smile in greeting. Second’s partner was less fortunate; he sat as comfortably as one would whilst kneeling on a washboard. His face was rather interesting, as well — his lips had twisted into a shape so contorted he seemed constipated.

  Fifth was seated beside his half-sister, Fourth. His study partner was as approachable as a puddle of poisoned vomit; the girl had a sour expression, a sunken back, a weedy countenance and a shockingly profound knowledge of insults. But he seemed to find her interesting anyway.

  Fourth was just being hand-fed by her partner. The girl was less a study aid than she was a servant for foodstuffs, the brushes and papers lying discarded on their desks in favour of candied plums.

  Those plums looked good. Wrinkled with a snow-like yer of sugar.

  Then, she turned to the Third Princess below.

  …Completely unlike my bitter master.

  The princess was seated near the front. It probably was a pace eunuch’s dying attempt to preserve a sembnce of order and respect; other than her pcement, everything from her paper to her desk’s wood was subpar.

  The imperial tutor wasn’t any better, either. With about as much subtlety as a rampaging, drunken elephant, the man ignored everyone who wasn’t over the age of twenty-five, male, and a twin.

  As the bearded old man again floated to the First Prince’s side, fawning over the man’s superb calligraphy, a soft tap floated to Three’s ears.

  She whipped to the left and nearly yelped.

  A pair of hazel brown eyes, hazy and watery, peered out to her from the dark of another beam. Tall and scrawny, the young man’s stringy hair was loosely tied back in a ponytail, his lips parted into a little shocked circle.

  Four?

  The man lifted his hands and signed to her, ‘Three? What are you doing here?’

  She raised her own hands, about to respond, but stopped herself — a command echoed in her head, over and over and over.

  Do not speak or communicate with others.

  Her hands curled into fists, stuffing them into her p.

  Four quickly signalled, ‘Wait! It’s, it’s alright if you can’t talk! Just listen!’

  She looked up at him. Was this alright?

  If her master asked, would she get in trouble? Would she be forbidden from her joy —

  Surely. It would be fine.

  Four didn’t wait for a reaction. He twisted his bony fingers into different shapes and words. ‘Three. Just know, we all care about you. Even if we try to kill you, please know, we will…’

  His fingers trembled, smearing the st word.

  ‘We will cry,’ he signed. ‘We also know you will do the same for us. It’s all we can do. So, if we kill you, or you kill us, it’s alright.’

  His hazel eyes seemed to glow in the dark, like the guardian lions at the feet of the pace.

  She stared at him. Tried to recall the moments she had spent with this brother of hers — the moments that had been few but fun, as trivial as the warmth from a hot cup of sweetened soy milk.

  And suddenly the fear struck her, a tidal wave of cold. A pointless fear, a fear whose cause she couldn’t fight but only swallow, a fishbone lodged deep in her throat. It was a bleeding wound, one that Four could see in the bones of her face and the trembling lines of her mouth.

  She huddled herself closer.

  Four signed, ‘Stay away from the Winter Pavilion.’

  Then, he backed away into the shadows and vanished.