“Oof.”

Yue and her unsuspecting obstacle collapsed in a tangle of robes and awkward limbs.

“Who dares run so recklessly in the household of a royal family, what—” The flustered Advisor untangled himself from Yue and ignored her proffered hand up. Yue stood back and bowed hastily.

“My humblest apologies, Advisor.” Yue peeked at him from beneath her dark bangs. He didn’t look familiar. She has never seen him before in the Villa nor the Palace during her annual visits. He must have come with Concubine Pan-rin’s entourage.

What is he doing coming out of the Lily Pavilion? Yue frowned and straightened. It led only to the private quarters of Lady Shu and the upper household officials. He smoothed his robes and straightened his skewed reading glasses. That was when she saw the sigil carved in burnished gold on his white headband - the famous winged sea serpent of House Kin.

“Ah, midnight dark hair, mysterious grey eyes and a pretty, bow-shaped mouth. You must be young Yue. I’ve heard much about you from the other advisors at court. Apparently you are quite the star student at the Royal Learning Pavilion. But dismal in weaving, or so I’ve heard.”

Yue frowned. She did not have access to the court grapevine, but even for gossip, that seemed a rather crude summary of herself. She couldn’t decipher his carefully neutral tone, if he meant it with any ill will, but she bowed again in acknowledgement. He mistook her annoyance for confusion.

“Where are my manners, allow me to introduce myself. Upper Advisor Kin Liu, son of Lord Advisor Kin To of the Privy Council, and Head Advisor to Concubine Pan-rin, at your service.” Advisor Kin said with a shallow nod and genial smile. Yue recognized the effort he made to seem more approachable, and appreciated it. It was rare for a country as hierarchical as Skaria. She bowed deep and addressed him.

“You honor me with your name, Advisor Kin. I am Ning Yue, daughter of Ning Xiao.”

“And where, pray tell, were you in such a rush to, young Yue? You should know it is unbecoming of a lady of the inner household to be seen running.”

Yue wasn’t fond of the overly familiar way he addressed her, but she responded with the expected reverence nonetheless.

“The Lotus Learning Pavilion, Advisor Kin. Lower Advisor Kol holds history and earth study classes there every fortnight.”

“Then I wouldn’t wish to hold you back any further. You may go to your class.”

As Yue continued on her way, she glanced back at the mysterious advisor straightening his headband as he glided down the corridor. The conversation seemed oddly focused on her, and his appraisal deceptively casual. She shook her head and hurried towards the Lotus Pavilion, putting the incident out of her mind.

***

Yue snuck around the corner of the learning pavilion, regretting once again for her designated front row seat as the Royal Beast Weaver’s daughter. Peeking in through the large open windows, she spied Advisor Kol sitting on his red silk cushions at the front of the room. He was in the midst of giving a lecture on Emperor Ka Long’s great victory over the Tolmar Isles while he grabbed a handful of tea leaves from a container in front of him with a pair of engraved tongs, a pot of water already quietly boiling at his side.

“Tolmar was ruled by four siblings of the Poltak family, each chosen ruler given one of their four islands to govern. The children of every generation will have to compete in an ascension competition. The selections are often brutal,” Advisor Kol paused as he took a sip from his teacup calmly and set it down, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

“Every ten years, more than half the Poltak’s youngest generation passes on due to sibling rivalry or disease. Many will also lose their lives in the process of the ruling family’s conflicts.” As Advisor Kol shook his head and turned towards the map of Westhania behind him, Yue chanced leaning forward, catching Chen Fu-er’s eyes as she did. The Lieutenant General’s granddaughter’s seat was thankfully close to the entrance.

“Pst, Fu-er.”

Fu-er kept her head facing forward, the only indication she heard Yue’s urgent whisper was a subtle eye roll and a small smirk. Fu-er cast her eyes downwards on the woven reed mats to hide the glow of her weaving and held her right arm slightly to her side, palm facing down. She gave a small nod to Yue.

Yue felt particles of soil start to swirl around the soles of her feet, her body getting lighter as it was buoyed a hairsbreadth from the reed mats. Making sure Advisor Kol still faced the map, she padded soundlessly into the room. She slid into her seat and crossed her legs, letting loose a soft sigh of relief. After a moment of internal celebration, she hurriedly reached into her satchel and placed her parchments on her low, dark wood table. The other students around her snickered. Yue ignored them and gave Fu-er a smile of thanks.

“—died of unknown reasons. There left a power vacuum…” Advisor Kol turned back at that moment and stared at Yue, confusion on his face. Yue pretended to be scribbling furiously on her empty parchment, looking up after awhile with innocent attentiveness. He scratched at his navy headband, the burnished bronze engraving of a sparrow in flight tilting slightly.

“I have the strongest impression that you weren’t at your seat just moments ago, Apprentice Ning Yue.” He blinked in puzzlement, reaching for his cup of tea.

His safety blanket, bless him, Yue thought fondly. She bowed and held her fists in front of her.

“With all respect, Advisor Kol, I have been here since the start of your lesson.”

He took a tentative sip, regarding her over his half-moon reading glasses. Yue’s confidence faltered, not expecting the eccentric advisor to be in one of his rare lucid moods. As the silence stretched, just as her nerves began to wear thin under his inquiring gaze, his eyes clouded over with his wandering thoughts. The wisps of vapor from his upraised cup drifted in front of his unseeing gaze, seeming to mirror the cogs shifting within the historian’s vast memories.

“Since the start…since the beginning…Emperor Ka Long’s brilliant foresight brought about his historical victory over the Tolmarians.”

Yue breathed a sigh of relief.

Mu Zeng raised his hand from the second row. “Advisor Kol, by beginning, might you be referring to the time the Great Dragon sent the Wind Runners to Skaria’s allies with secret alliance missives for the Seige of the Bay of Urandil?”

Great Dragon, Fu-er leaned back and mouthed the words to Zeng, giving him a meaningful look. Zeng flushed, shrugging with a sheepish look. Zeng’s worship of His Majesty Ka Long was well-known among the apprentices of the inner household.

Advisor Kol showed no signs that he heard Zeng’s question, staring into the wisps of smoke curling in the air. Zeng raised his hand again, unfazed by their tutor’s silence.

Advisor Kol held his hand up, halting Zeng.

“I heard you, apprentice Mu Zeng. The impatience of youth,” he mused distractedly.

“Before Emperor Ka Long was the Great Dragon, when we still knew him as the upstart young prince, third-in-line to the Golden Seat, he visited the largest island within the Tolmar Isles. No one knew yet, but the shrewd prince was keeping a very close eye on the Poltak family, unchallenged for nigh on four generations. Because he knew…he knew that as third-born son of Emperor Shen Long, the reigning Dragon then, his only path to the throne laid with conquest over his father’s greatest territorial adversary then — the Tolmarians.”

Advisor Kol’s voice took on a dream-like quality, as if revisiting a fond memory from long ago. Considering the wizened historian’s thinning silver hair, he likely did live to see the enthronement of the current emperor. Yue leaned forward with rapt attention.

“He befriended the Poltak’s second son, Pantak — arguably the most ambitious but least capable of the lot. While Prince Ka Long was there, as third-born son he related to Pantak’s frustration more than either prince realized. He learnt of Pantak’s plans to inherit Undal Island, the largest among the Tolmar islands, rich with crop and fertile lands. So Prince Ka Long decided to give Pantak the push he so desperately wanted.

“With the aid of his trusted aides in the thirty-seventh Imperial contingent, seeded rumors of dissension between the rulers of Undal and Jondal, Pantak’s mother and uncle.”

Fu-er bounced excitedly at the mention of the Wind Runners, giving her a hopeful beam. Yue turned to her and smiled, catching in her periphery Chen Guan and the rest of the military apprentices from the third and last rows snoozing softly. Fu-er followed her gaze and rolled her eyes at her brother and her fellow apprentices.

“When tensions between the two island rulers reached its peak, civil conflict began. The subsequent skirmishes saw the death of Mullutok Poltak, the Jondal ruler. Pantak’s mother suffered a fatal battle wound, and succumbed to it shortly after.”

On Yue’s left, Apprentice Chun Sou raised his unruly bedhead from scribbling furiously on his parchment. “Advisor Kol, is this where the Tripartite started? The secret alliance that Apprentice Zeng mentioned before?”

“Not quite yet, Apprentice Chun Sou. Prince Ka Long sailed back to Vyrnos to bide his time. Shortly after Pantak’s mother left the Undal rulership empty, the power vacuum of two of Tolmar’s largest islands was too huge a temptation for any individual possessing a drop of Poltak blood. The ensuing chaos embroiled even the other two island rulers and their families, and the small but once mighty Tolmar Isle was reduced to a shadow of its former self.

“When the in-fighting came to a stalemate between Pantak’s older brother, Pantak himself and Mullutok’s daughter, Pantak sailed to Vyrnos in the dead of winter with a group of his strongest water weavers in record time. He sought support from Prince Ka Long. And this is where the young prince agreed to see Pantak enthroned on three conditions.

“First, to allow a Skarian ambassador to oversee Tolmar’s trade and military affairs. Second, to pay a small tribute to Skaria annually as a token of good faith. And lastly, to send to Skaria a Poltak son as ward to the Emperor.”

Those were impossible terms. Yue frowned in puzzlement. She raised her hand to draw Advisor Kol’s attention. “But Advisor, wouldn’t that effectively make Tolmar a vassal state?”

Advisor Kol sipped daintily at his refilled teacup, nodding happily.

“Oh yes, Apprentice Ning Yue, very good. Pantak’s desperation drove him to accept the prince’s very biased terms. Do not, however, underestimate the prince’s good will. He was fond of Pantak, and with the blessing of his father, Emperor Shen Long, personally led a charge of five contingents of Skaria’s elite weavers to put down all rivals and dissenters, ending Tolmar’s three years of internal conflict.

“The rest, as the legends of Emperor Ka Long go, is history. Tolmar grew weak and after five years, Prince Ka Long saw an opportunity to take over the islands with minimal force. He gathered a secret alliance and led a small Skarian contingent to wipe out the Bay of Urandil, Undal’s main trade port. Undal Island’s seat of power fell, and the subsequent islands thereafter fell rapidly to the alliance forces.”

The listening students couldn’t help their soft exclamations of awe at young Emperor Ka Long’s wit and cunning, breaking out in murmured discussions about his eight-year stratagem. Amidst the happy atmosphere, Yue twirled her quill and frowned contemplatively.

Did Emperor Ka Long betray a man who had befriended him for years in cold-blood? And to what end? His own succession? She shook her head. She has always admired the Emperor from afar whenever she went to the Imperial Palace and through his many legends, but she hoped she should never have to meet such a coldly intelligent man.

She thought of Prince Yin Long then, and how different he was from his father. His low, infectious laughter, lopsided smile and bright, warm chocolate gaze that made even the gloomiest days in the palace feel cozy. A secret smile started to bloom on Yue’s flushed face.

“Wait a minute. Yue, are you giving your creepy smile because of the story? Because you have your creepy smile on right now. It’s a very inspirational story, but I don’t see anyone else being creepy about it,” Fu-er said while leaning her head on her palm, elbow on the table in front of her, her expression an amused befuddlement.

Yue stuck her tongue out at the smiling girl. “Not as creepy as you stalking Zeng when he’s on duty in the archives after your military training.”

Yue had to swerve to avoid the panicked smacks of Fu-er, half shushing her, half peeking at the boy in question. A flustered Fu-er was a rare sight, and Yue leaned back and enjoyed her pink cheeks turn scarlet as Zeng glanced over at them. Yue laughed, reaching out to placate her.

A loud, lively tune pierced the late afternoon air, the sound traveling across the entire Villa. Everyone perked up in their seats, even those snoozing just moments ago. Leaning over Fu-er, Yue tried to peer pass the large pavilion windows and beyond the orchard outside to the Villa’s golden gates and carriageway. The students crowded around the doors and windows, whispering excitedly.

Living at the edge of Vyrnos beside the North Laisternian Sea and on the border with the Kharian Deserts, the Imperial Villa did not see many royal visitors, nor any visitors for that matter. Yue felt her heart lift at the thought that she might be able to see Ye Yang or Prince Yin Long again before her trip to the palace in a few months. She hasn’t seen them in ages since the both of them graduated from the Royal Learning Pavilion and joined the Imperial Army in the desert campaigns two years back.

Advisor Kol tapped his empty teacup on his table, an impatient reminder for the students to return to their seats. He refilled his cup and looked up at the students, a twinkle in his suddenly clear gaze.

“It is rather a pleasant sight to see everyone so excited about my stories,” Advisor Kol said dryly, to the students’ snickers. “Well, if anyone has any questions regarding Emperor Ka Long’s conquest over the Tolmar Isles, now would be a good time to have them answered.”

He looked at the antsy students over his half-moon glasses fidgeting in their seats. Yue herself kept finding her gaze drifting over to the window. Advisor Kol swirled his teacup is his hand leisurely, unaffected by the air of anticipation. He waited a beat, two, before continuing.

“Now that everyone has such crystal understanding of the events, each student is to submit two scrolls of your analysis on today’s topic. Dismissed.”

A collective groan from the students. Yue sighed. Another week of research and homework after her evening sup. She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to be dallying. The procession horns sounded nearer to the gates already. She grabbed her parchment and quill, hastily stuffing them into her worn satchel.

“Quick, Fu-er, or we’re going to miss the royal procession!”

“Coming! Brother, are you coming with?” Fu-er slung her satchel over her shoulder, turning to Guan behind her.

“You guys go ahead, I’ll be going to the main pavilion with the other military apprentices.” He nodded towards the students in the back, whom Yue noticed already had on their formal red apprentice robes. She looked down at her stained training uniform. She could still see the spot where Yirlhil had rubbed his nose against her. She looked at Fu-er and grimaced.

“There’s no time, come on!” Fu-er grabbed her hand and, waving at Guan, rushed off to catch the grand procession, where the first few mounted knights in the elite black armor of imperial weavers crossed the ornate gates.