‘…You, what are you doing?’

  Three wiped the sweat off her brows. Her muscles burned as she pushed herself up and down, the inn room’s stained floor rushing up to her nose and then falling away. The strain pulled at her eyes. ‘I’m doing push ups, Master.’

  ‘…Should I remind you that you were unconscious a mere day ago —’

  ‘Exactly!’ She leaned over, rolling into a handstand. Only the belt she’d hastily tied around her waist kept her bck inner robes from falling.

  ‘…And why does that validate physical exertion?’ The princess’s face, upside-down and frowning by the door, was absolutely priceless. It had her ughing hard enough to choke on her own spit.

  Propping herself up with one arm, she flexed her right to show off her biceps. ‘I can’t let these get soft. Muscles and chicken feet are my reasons for living!’

  It was also to ensure her qi kept moving. If she left it stagnant for too long, her health and muscles would decline — and with it, the martial arts and strength that denoted her value as a shadow guard.

  ‘Foolish.’ The princess paused, uncrossing her arms. The white of her inner robes fshed in the light. She said, ‘Well, don’t push yourself. We can take our time.’

  ‘Really?’ Three leaped into a flip, smoothly nding in a kneel. Her dark linens settled around her, the petals of a flower. ‘I thought your family’s drama was quite… demanding.’

  ‘It is, but it’s too dangerous to return right now. Not with my eldest cousin running head-long against Fifth and Seventh.’ The princess walked over, plopping down to sit on a cushion. ‘My aunt’s husband is getting unpredictable, too. My father told me that it was his bed-talk that kept First from promoting his men.’ Those pink lips blew a heavy sigh. ‘It’s too messy. We’ll be torn apart if we try to enter the storm.’

  ‘Oh, that’s great then.’ She stood up, flicking her hair back. Then she tied it up into a ponytail with a strip of torn curtain. ‘It’ll take me around five more days to get back to peak condition.’ Then, she smiled, waving a finger at the princess’s head, ‘Hey, we match.’

  Could I be a little like you now?

  Perhaps, she could walk a little faster, so that she wouldn’t be in the other’s shadow all the time.

  ‘Seriously?’ The princess rolled her eyes, but then brushed it off. ‘Well, fine. Whatever. Be happy. But we’ve got to go.’

  ‘Go where?’ Then, her eyes lit up. ‘Wait! Are we going to —’

  ‘Eat? Yes.’ The princess gred, ‘But I’m picking the restaurant. Not you.’

  ‘I’m good with that. Let’s go!’ Three got up, flexing her fingers. ‘Alrighty Master, where’s my robes?’

  Her question was met with silence.

  Wait, no way.

  She slowly turned around.

  The princess, one of those stranger existences that Three could never quite understand, had lost all her steel will and rudeness. Instead, the woman had turned almost… embarrassed. Or, apologetic?

  She took a deep breath and said slowly, ‘Listen, girl. Your outer robes had poison on them, and it wasn’t safe to take it with us. I may have… buried it. Under the tree. When you fainted.’

  Three’s jaw dropped.

  But then her brain processed the princess’s words and she nearly shrieked.

  Her earring.

  ‘Did — did you check my robes?!’ Panic took her — her breaths came faster, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, the floor spinning under her feet in a dizzying haze. ‘In the chest pocket. A white earring, it looks like a chain of lilies, you, you brought it right, please —’

  ‘Calm down.’ The princess pushed down hard on her head, then reached into her sleeves to take out a small, bck drawstring pouch. ‘I brought it. I brought your knives too.’

  She grabbed it and pulled it open.

  Then, the tension drizzled out of her body.

  It was still there.

  All the little pieces. Not a single one was lost.

  ‘Thank you,’ she breathed. Heat bubbled in her nose, her eyes, a rush of blood and watery steam. Her voice turned hoarse. ‘Thank you so much.’ Then, she tied the ends around her neck in a makeshift neckce. The bag hit her chest, light but heavy on her heart.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ the princess said. ‘You will just have to wear my robes for now.’ The princess added, ‘I was in a rush, I never got to go shopping. Even the clothes I wore yesterday were gifted by the physician.’

  ‘It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.’ She took a few breaths; with how the imperial competition had cut her off from the Head Shadow, she wouldn’t be able to get any new bck robes. ‘Alright then, where’s your mourning garb? That’ll do for now.’

  ‘You can wear the ruqun. I’ll take the white robes. They fit me better, anyway.’

  ‘…Listen, the white stuff’s fine.’ She reasoned, ‘You’re my master. I can’t have you wearing that coarse linen, not when we’ve got better options avaible. Besides, it might make you more recognisable.’

  And the princess had been so beautiful in it the night before.

  ‘You’re sick,’ the princess said. ‘Besides, don’t underestimate me. I’m telling you, when we go out, no-one will recognise me. I guarantee you.’

  ‘…Alright, I guess.’

  Once she agreed, the other handed her the robes. It had three parts — a simple blue skirt, a pin white top, and an outer coat the colour of butterfly peas.

  ‘Here,’ the princess said. ‘I’ll get changed myself. Just turn around, I won’t look.’

  Three wanted to snort; with them both wearing their inner robes, there wasn’t much to see. But then she thought of the looseness of her top; the tighter cuffs that ended just before her wrists; the rise of her chest; and then heat burned on her face as she thought of Xi Yu’s slender figure.

  She did as she was told. She lifted the ruqun’s top half — it rather resembled her own inner robes, with the left pel pulled over the right. It was cropped short, ending a little past her hips. Strings were sown into it.

  She put it on and knotted the ties together. It was a touch too big on her, with the sleeves reaching past her fingertips. Pushing her hands out, she then lifted up the skirt.

  …Just what was this thing?

  The skirt was one long, ft piece of fabric. It had a clear strip as wide as her palm running through the top — the shorter side — from which the rest of the pleated skirt came. There was a small slit on it, around a third of the way down its length. At the ends of each side was a long white ribbon, soft to the touch.

  Three stared at it.

  Then she swallowed, hard, blowing a sigh through her nose. She called out, ‘Hey… I don’t know how to wear this…’

  The princess asked, ‘Can I turn around?’

  ‘Sure.’

  A few footsteps. Then, the princess was by her side, gently lifting the skirt from the bed. ‘Hold your arms up for me.’

  She did so.

  The princess gently wrapped the skirt around Three’s body, over the white top. Each touch left a trail of fire on the guard’s skin.

  She knew with a frightening precision the feel of every touch, the breath of air by her ear, the strange nervousness that wrapped around her chest and the blood that rose to her cheeks.

  If this kept up, the princess would drive her mad.

  The other threaded one end of the string through the hole, then wrapped the left panel across a panel of muscles. The ribbons crossed at the back; she pulled hard and said, ‘Tell me if it’s too tight.’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  Then, the ribbons went back to Three’s front, where she gently folded the white fabric strips, leaving a little hoop on each side of the hip. ‘There,’ she said. ‘Done.’

  Three let out a sigh — she’d forgotten to breathe. She let the blood fade from her skin, squashing the embarrassment and fright down, deep into her stomach.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. She twisted a little; the skirt’s hem brushed the floor. Would she step on it? ‘I’ve never worn this sort of thing before.’

  ‘…Really?’ The princess’s voice grew quiet. ‘Never?’

  ‘I always wore shadow guards’ uniforms,’ she said. ‘You know, trousers with a cropped robe on top, tied in the middle with a girdle. I used to wear more armour but found it too cumbersome. Didn’t need it anyway, not for my line of work.’

  After all, she was an assassin. She usually killed with arrows, by throwing knives, bringing clean deaths and fleeing with quick feet. If she had to torture, she would incapacitate targets in one strike and get on with it.

  Mele was One and Six’s thing.

  She took a step — and the skirt’s hem was instantly under her foot.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said. She brushed out the skirt, lifting the edges up, ‘I’m just not used to it. I’ll adapt, it won’t impact my usefulness at all, I swear.’

  Her hands clenched into fists.

  So don’t take it away from me.

  ‘It’s fine,’ the princess said. ‘You want to walk with a gliding motion; don’t lift your feet very high and take short steps. If you must run, hold the skirt with one hand.’

  She took a few small steps towards the door. The fabric flowed around her, dragging on the ground. A few more — and she stepped on it again.

  Her face went red.

  ‘Take your time.’ The princess grinned while watching her. ‘Of course, how soon you can eat depends on your performance.’

  Three gritted her teeth.

  Fifty-two breaths ter, she could walk in the damned skirt perfectly. She even managed to hide her knives in the folds of its sash.

  Of course, her earring stayed snug by her chest.