Luck? More likely someone from the village had run to the nearest authority when we docked, thinking they might earn a reward. My companions were all inside their respective huts, and these Kantons had come prepared for a fight. The sun is strongest just before it fails, and its last rays were glinting off of their spearheads. They were a manorial guard, and the women were hangers on for a successful young lord. I mentally cycled through a quick prayer that he wouldn't realize who I was.

"Mr. Paulson," I said, "my apologies for trespassing without first announcing ourselves. We have come a long way, and intend to go further as soon our ship is fit to sail."

"You've a fine diction, miss," the young lord said, "but forgive me if I suggest this is not your native tongue, you don't have the eyes of my people."

"It is a language I acquired through study."

"Your tutor should be proud. I know that the hour is growing late, but I'd like to invite you to my manor. You can illuminate our way with tales from your journey."

"The headman has been kind enough to offer me his hospitality for the evening."

"I insist," Paulson said.

My companions were peeking out into the open, alerted by the boots or the conversation. Tokar was half hidden in a doorway, but the Baker was fully dressed and impossible to hide.

"You may bring along one of your friends if that makes you more comfortable," Paulson said.

Tokar strode forward. "I will go."

"Baker," I said, and Tokar glowered.

They had a few riding horses hobbled nearby, but the guards and the Baker walked while Paulson rode ahead with the women.

"All of this land is mine to manage," his statement seemed to include whatever the eye could see. "It's mostly fishing villages like this one, a backwater, but promising nonetheless for my first posting as a landgrave."

"It's good land," I said noncommitally.

"Why did you come here?" He asked as if it had just occurred to him.

"To resupply. We had a strange time at sea, and we lost our way."

"But where are you going now?"

I'd been thinking about my lost at sea story, and decided it wouldn't hold on its on. "Havella is a scholar, and I'm training under her. We're travelling to a historical site, and our path traverses Kanto."

"What site? Indulge me."

"You may know it as the Lost Kingdom."

A horse screamed, and so did a woman. One of the parasol wielders had gone down, her mount lamed on a loose stone. Our procession came to a halt while Paulson helped her up onto his own horse and examined the damaged limb.

"No so bad," he announced, "she'll make it back in one piece." He led the injured mare by its reins, effectively ending our conversation.

It was dark when we reached the manor house, though signs of habitation were visible for miles around in fields of cotton and barley. The manor itself was the centerpiece of a medium sized town, easily home to several hundred people and many more animals.

Our horses were taken by obsequious servants, and Paulson led me inside with the Baker close behind. The big man hadn't uttered a word during the course of our journey, but he wasn't easily forgotten.

The manor facade was graced with four broad columns that led to a steepled roof with palladium windows. There were many winking eyes of candlelight behind panes of glass, an extravagence even in Euphoria, and the entrance hall was lit with brass candelabra.

"I'm sure you're tired," Paulson said, "why don't you follow the ladies upstairs to wash up, then we'all have a nightcap."

"I'm Beth," said the blonder of the pair, "and this is Anna."

"Juno," I said.

"Pleasure to meet you." There were a dozen bedrooms upstairs, most of them unoccupied. We went to a powder room to wash our faces and hands with a bowl of scented water, and they touched up their makeup.

"Look at your eyes," Beth said, "so exotic."

"Thank you, I was born with them."

Anna giggled, though that seemed to be more of an affectation than a sign of real humor.

"How do you know Mr. Paulson?" I asked.

"We're cousins," Beth said. "Isn't he a gentleman?"

"He has been. Does he practice often with that sanso he carries?"

"You're so weird," Anne said, smiling at me.

We gathered in the library downstairs which would have been impressive to anyone not raised in a palace. There were at least fifty books that weren't family ledgers and accounts. A middle aged man was in conversation with Paulson, he had a grand beard and unkind looks, and he stopped talking when we entered.

"I've taken the liberty of having you all poured a glass," Paulson gestured to the three long stemmed cups splashed with a pink liquor.

"How sweet," Beth said, and Anne giggled. The chairs were deep cushioned velvet, surrounding what was more stool than table. I sipped my drink, it was hot and sharp at once, smelling of peaches, but not tasting of them.

"I was just describing you to my uncle Windy," Paulson winked at me, though I wasn't sure what the joke might be. "Such a rare shade of red, I'd scarcely believe it natural. We have a mutual interest in heritage, and I'm forced to wonder how exactly such a mix of features such as yours could come about."

So Thomas wasn't the only Kanton fixated on race, that was nice to know. "I know it stands out," I said, trying not to get snarled in a lie. "No one in my family has hair quite like it."

"That's fascinating," Paulson said. "You see, ancestry is something of a national obsession for the true Kanton, and I have copies of the Paulson family tree going back three hundred years. Our scholars concern themselves less with legends and stories than with the facts of blood and birth. Did you know red hair actually originated in Kanto over a thousand years ago?"

"I had no idea."

"It is so." He finished his own wine in a single swift gulp. "It's a rare trait, because it is easily diluted. When a red haired Kanton mates with one of the dusky foothill tribes their offspring will nearly always have dark brown or black hair. The trait can be lost in a generation, never to be regained. That's why the Finnick family, famously, won't allow their young to mate with anyone who does not share their distinctive coloring. So it's unusual, more than an unusual, to hear of a family give rise to red hair where none was seen before, you understand."

"That's very interesting," I said.

"You've always been so clever," Beth said, and Paulson allowed her a slight smile of acknowledgement.

"I you don't mind me asking," I touched my glass to my lips before setting it aside. "Where is my baker?"

"In the kitchen," Paulson said. "He should find plenty to occupy him there."

His uncle was eyeing me above his beard, plainly suspicious. "How're you going to travel in Kanto without papers?"

"We didn't intend to travel through anyone's lands, we are going to take the sea lane around the southern side."

"You strike me as a newcomer to this region, if you can forgive me for saying so," Paulson shared a look with his uncle, "am I correct?"

"Yes."

"Then your ignorance can be forgiven, if not excused. All lands belong first to the emperor, who divides it among his barons to rule. The coastal regions are also under these provisions, and merchants need papers to trade in whatever territory they land."

"We have nothing to trade."

"Travellers need documentation as well, for their own protection. There is no law in the west but the Imperative."

"The truth and the compact," I said, beginning to feel unwell.

"So you do have an idea of our ways."

"I've read a little." It was something I should have considered before starting on this journey, but having spent all my life cloistered in Euphoria, it hadn't seemed more than an academic matter.

"Under the law, outsiders have no protections. I could do anything I wanted to you without consequence. I could gut your baker and feed him to the hogs."

Anne tittered nervously.

"He's making a point," Beth said. "No one is going to hurt you."

"Quite right. I'm making a point. Anyone operating without a compact with a local or regional master is essentially an outlaw, or rather a no-law, and you can understand why we don't take to that sort in Kanto."

"I'm sorry," I said. "There has to be something I can do."

"As a landgrave, the protection my mark affords is very limited. My uncle here holds no titles of his own, so he is of no help either. If you want permission to travel and explore on the other side of the Kanton empire, you will need papers from many lord knights, or from someone as high as a baron giving their imprimatuer. Do you know where you're going?"

"The Lost Kingdom is supposed to be beyond Kanto, separated by a strait."

"There is no such place," the uncle said.

"Then at the very least, you will need permission to sail around the coast. That's easier than travelling by land, because you can do it with one set of papers. Merchants regularly seek such permission, and the emperor usually grants it. His seal overrides any local issues, but it wouldn't extend onto land."

"Then that's what we need."

"Excellent, I'll have a scribe draw up a contract for you and yours to stay with me while we send your request to the capital."

"Wait, we're supposed to be travelling again tomorrow."

"I'm afraid that's not possible. I couldn't in good conscience allow you to go on illegally."

"Some reason you in a hurry?" The uncle interjected.

"I'm...you're right." It was obvious they had already made up their minds, and their polite insistence would be backed with force if I tested them. "We need to do this properly. You've been very gracious, and it's more than we deserve."

"We can go riding tomorrow," Beth said. "There are such lovely wildflowers."

"I'm tipsy," Anne said, placing her glass as carefully on the table as if it too were made of glass.

"Are you always so helpful to strangers?" I asked.

Paulson executed a mock bow from his seat. "I consider it a man's duty to aid a lady in distress."

He seemed sincere, and from how Beth and Anne were behaving I could gather what kind of role women played in this region. I wasn't a threat, even if he didn't entirely believe me. As long as I was careful not to be caught in a lie we were probably safe. In Kanto, lying and the breaking of contracts were the only real crimes, and they were treated with severe measures. I wished I'd bothered to learn more about the culture, but it hadn't seemed very interesting when I thought I'd never have a chance to visit.

A neatly dressed servant brought me the contract. It was longer and more densely worded than I would have liked, but it could be condensed to the acknowledgement that Robert Paulson was the lord of this territory and had full rights and control of all land and property that was not mine prior to entering the territory or ceded to me thereafter.

Signing the compact meant I was also subject to and shielded by the same basic laws that governed everyone in the Kanton empire. My companions were considered extensions of me for purposes of damages and the like, as they weren't full signatories themselves.

"This is rather advanced," I said.

"No, mam," Paulson stroked his mustache. "This is simply a waiver." He then dictated a letter to be sent to his direct superior, a duke, to be forwarded to whatever officials the emperor delegated the business of handing out travel licenses to.

After that the women were expected to retire, so I was shown to my personal room. The bed was large and soft and smelled faintly of smoke, and I was tempted to drift into the unmitigated sleep that had eluded me on the longship. Instead I layed awake, occasionally standing and stretching to keep from drifting off, and waited until the house was completely dark and silent. The layout was set in my mind, so I eased open my door and slipped into the hall headed for the kitchens. There were no house servants up that I could hear, and I stopped to listen at every corner to be sure.

There was no one in the kitchen, thankfully, but I guessed the servants' quarters, and the Baker, would not be far from that center of activity. As I carefully pulled the kitchen door shut, a massive arm wrapped around me and I was drawn up off the floor with a hand clamped around my mouth to keep me from screaming.

I still tried.

"Quiet," the Baker said. "I'm going to let you go." He made good on his word, and I wondered how such a large body had blended so well into the shadows of the cabinets and hanging pots. There was a small window alleviating pitch blackness into more of a pitched grey smog, and the Baker was a ghostly goliath within it.

"Why'd you do that?" I said.

"Didn't know it was you."

"Well it is. I was looking for you. We can't stay here."

"The ship will hold, you take a horse and go. I'll make a mess and come after. You remember the way?"

"I remember everything," I said factually.

If I was caught, it was going to be bad. Paulson could mete out whatever punishment he saw fit, but I knew if I stayed my identity would be revealed. Getting approval would take weeks, and word of the missing princess would continue to spread even if Thomas Caldwell himself didn't appear to end the ruse. Acting quickly seemed like the only option, at least that's what I told myself as I crept out of the house and toward the stables.

"Mercy me, it's a nice evening for a stroll isn't it."

I stopped dead. Paulson had come out of the darkness under the side of the house, and I was exposed halfway to the barn.

"I couldn't sleep," I said.

"Neither could I," Paulson came a few steps closer. He was fully dressed in a dark blue suit and the shirt with ruffs at his wrists. "I'm not a terribly good sleeper myself, especially when I sense there is something amiss in the house."

"I hope I didn't wake you." The sword sat so easy on his hip, like a decoration, but I knew Kanto nobles all underwent rigorous training, and it would be a perilous weapon in his hands.

"No, perhaps we could go for that stroll together."

The Baker came out of nowhere, slamming into Paulson like a bull and barreling them both into the ground. There was a shout cut off half formed, a few grunts and a brief scuffle. Paulson couldn't draw his sword, and the Baker's meaty fist smashed down into the side of his skull twice, then once more, and he was still.

"Get a horse," he said. "Get ready, I won't be far behind."

My heart was in my throat and my hands were shaking,but I lifted the latch to the stables and rushed inside. That kind of violence didn't sit well with me. Aside from it being terrifying to see someone I was travelling with dispatch another person that expertly, it didn't feel right to hurt Paulson. He had been a bit presumptuous, but that wasn't worth having him beat senseless, and we were in his land. Still, what I was doing was bigger than one person, and I'd been raised to recognize the greater good.

Except wasn't that the kind of reasoning what I'd left Euphoria to escape?

My experience with horses was limited, so I opened stalls until I found the one I'd ridden earlier in the day. I was too rushed to work out where the riding gear was or how to put it all on, so I led her by the neck to the barn door, lifted the bar and pushed it open.

There were lights on in the house, and torches carving swathes out of the dark of the yard. Spearmen had surrounded the Baker, and he had Paulson draped over one shoulder like a child. Uncle Windy held a straight sword, not a sanso, but it would doubtlessly kill just the same.

I considered jumping on my horse and galloping off, but I couldn't leave a friend, or whatever he was, behind. They would have caught up anyway.

"Wait!" I shouted. "Don't hurt him!"

"Go," the baker said, "I'll follow."

"No," I patted the horses neck and let go.o her. "My friend is going to let your landgrave go and you are going to leave him unharmed."

"I'd rather kill you both," Windy said.

"You can't."

"Why's that?" He raised his arm to signal the spearman.

I stepped forward, and sensing my mood, Hikami came alive in my hair, surrounding my face in a halo of fire. "Because I am Joi Longue, princess of Euphoria, and betrothed of Thomas Caldwell, whose father requires the fealty of all men here."

"Oh," said Windy.