Yue slid into her place on the lower dais just as Concubine Shu stood from her cushioned seat at the head of the upper dais. She waved at her father seated beside Concubine Shu, who smiled in relief at her before turning back to his conversation with Upper Advisor Kin Liu on his left. With her arms folded in front, Concubine Shu curtsied to Prince Yin Long beside her. Conversations quieted and all eyes turned to the elegant concubine. She straightened and addressed the gathered members of noble houses and stations.

“Once again, I welcome all distinguished guests today. Before we begin this lavish banquet, I believe the Young Dragon Prince Yin Long and my sister in serving His Majesty Ka Long, Concubine Yol-min, have brought a royal edict to be announced this eve.”

A coy laugh from Concubine Yol-min, seated prettily on the prince’s other side. “Not an edict, sister Shu Li. A royal invitation.”

“Pardon me, a royal invitation,” Concubine Shu amended, deadpan. She waved a hand at the royal herald seated just below the upper dais. He stood and bowed politely to the royal family above, producing an elaborate linen scroll from his immense sleeves.

“Written, morn of the fifteenth sun cycle of Febrar, twenty one years into the reign of His Majesty Ka Long, twenty sixth Emperor of the Dragon Reign, Conqueror of the Tolmar Isles, Guardian of the Mythic Forest, Restorer of the Lost Faith and Great Dragon of the North. It is in His Majesty’s pleasure to formally invite all members of the inner household of Concubine Shu’s Imperial Villa, overseer of the outpost town of Tyrmal, to the annual Moon Festival celebrations at the Royal Palace one month hence. Attendance is mandatory. Such is the decree of His Majesty.”

That didn’t sound like a royal invitation. It was an edict in essence, as Concubine Shu said, Yue thought pensively, wondering about the Emperor’s motives. A simple wish for a family reunion, or something more?

Concubine Shu stayed seated this time, waving gracefully at the royal herald. He nodded and in a resonant baritone began a short litany to the Great Weaver.

“Mother Weaver, we give thanks for the safe arrival of our two royal parties, for shielding our threads in Your great Tapestry to those who might unwind it. We give thanks for this bountiful feast, without which we would not be able to continue Your noble Work. And lastly, we give thanks for the peace and security within our borders, without which Tyrmal and Skaria’s outpost towns would not be thriving as they have been thus far.” The royal herald paused. Concubine Shu gave Prince Yin Long a gentle smile, nodding. Prince Yin Long raised his golden chalice at the royal herald, who then bowed low again and announced.

“Let the banquet begin!”

Kitchen servants in neat rows appeared from the outer corridors, bearing fragrant platters of steamed buns and mini rice claypots. Yue perked up, not realizing her hunger until the aroma hit her. One of the servants knelt in front of her, transferring bowls of seasoned meat and piping hot soup onto her low table. Da Lun, a senior military apprentice in his red apprentice robes, leaned over from her right, practically salivating across the space between them.

“You know, if you can’t stomach it all, I could always help you with a portion of your servings.” A big, dimpled grin from the muscled apprentice.

“Oh, stay within your seat, you big oaf,” Yue said with a giggle, pushing him back across. She lifted her chopsticks and placed a slice of decadent meat in her mouth pointedly for emphasis. She made a sound of pure bliss. “This is good.”

An infectious, deep-bellied laugh from Da Lun had the other military apprentices glancing over. Still grinning from fending off Da Lun attempting to steal food off her table with his chopsticks, Yue glanced up from her bowl.

And almost choked on the small roll of rice she was chewing on.

Dark eyes met hers. Prince Yin Long looked at her from across the two dais and several rows of banquet guests, his face an unreadable mask. After an electrifying second during which Yue stopped breathing, he lips curved gently in greeting. She smiled weakly in response. He broke eye contact after another beat, returning to his conversation with the three concubines at the head of the upper dais with him. Yue overheard snippets of their conversation, noise in the banquet hall fluctuating as food was served.

“…can’t even begin to imagine living so far from the capital,” Concubine Pan-rin tittered, eyes regarding Concubine Shu sharply, who continued with her meal serenely. She continued, “You must tell us if you are in need of any supplies or troops so far out here in Tyrmal, and practically neighbors with those Khar barbarians.” A shudder. “Sister Yol-min and I shall inform His Majesty as soon as we can.”

Concubine Yol-min chewed daintily, her shrewd eyes observing Prince Yin Long’s and Concubine Shu’s neutral expressions. “Yes, please do, sister Shu Li. His Majesty did mention his concern for Tyrmal on occasion when he visits my chambers in recent months.” A coy smile. “I will endeavor to report of any shortfall here in Tyrmal when next I see Him.”

Concubine Shu, who remained silent thus far, looked up then and smiled coldly. “I am fortunate to have such considerate sisters. It might please you to hear that the outpost is well-provided for by the grace and benevolence of my lord and I have not been negligent in my duties as overseer, as it is a heavy responsibility entrusted to me. His Majesty has stationed a group of Wind Runners here, should I find myself in need of a direct line to the capital. Thus I will not trouble my sisters with this mundane task. But likewise, I thank you for the offer.”

Conversations in the banquet hall rose, Yue strained to catch Concubine Pan-rin’s next words, curious for news from the palace.

“…hear rumours of His Majesty’s frequent visits to your chambers in recent months. Oh, do tell…”

Da Lun reached a hand to clap her on her back, the military apprentices apparently sharing stories about her father during this morn’s military training. She smiled distractedly.

“…did mention He wished for me to bear Him a son.” Concubine Yol-min raised her sleeves to chuckle coquettishly, her smile never reaching her emerald eyes. Concubine Pan-rin’s responding laugh came after a pause, overly high and forced. Concubine Shu regarded her with a slight tilt of her brow. Yue tuned them out then, her morbid curiosity over their posturing fizzling out. Her attention was abruptly snagged by the military apprentices, as their conversation took a sudden turn towards her recent miracle during weaving class.

“Hey Yue, I heard your weaving manifested in a most dramatic show of martial brilliance.” A smattering of good-natured laughter from some of the apprentices.

“Yes, I heard from Guan about how you weaved while blindfolded this morning! And I quote — with unnerving accuracy.”

“So did your weaving manifest? What kind of weaver are you?”

Yue flushed, flustered at the flurry of questions. She took a quick sip of tea to calm her nerves, raising her hands up. “It wasn’t anything like that! Guan was exaggerating!” She paused, realized the flaw in her reasoning. Guan never exaggerated, the General’s grandson objective to a fault. The other apprentices eyed her skeptically.

“If you’re going to lie, Yue, at least put in a bit more effort,” a captain’s daughter said from a few places down.

Yue panicked, attempting to salvage the situation. “I think my thread sight manifested in full today, which aided me in combat. But my weaving hasn’t manifested at all.”

Da Lun opened his mouth to pipe in, but the captain’s daughter gave a sudden gasp and widened her eyes at Yue. A soft cough sounded behind her, and a familiar, deep voice followed.

“You will have to regale me with this fascinating story, Yue. Sounds like quite the news.”

Yue froze, then swiveled on her cushion, heart in her mouth. The prince stood behind her in the outer corridor, looking down at her with a warm smile, hands behind his back and hair neatly held back by his black and gold headband. The entire row of apprentices turned and gaped at him. Yue recovered her wits first. Turning fully in her seat, she kneeled and kept her head low. “Prince Yin Long.”

Before the other apprentices could react, some still staring open-mouthed in awe, the subject of such admiration crouched down, finger on his expressive lips currently curved in a mischievous grin. “I made my escape from the head table. They assume I’ve headed to the washroom, so do not draw attention to me. Carry on with your meal, but I wish to borrow Yue for a time. Come,” Prince Yin Long commanded as he tilted his head towards the gardens, standing back up and offering his hand. With butterflies in her stomach, Yue put her hand in the prince’s shyly and crept away with him.

As they walked across the outer corridors that framed the perimeter of each pavilion, the reed mats absorbing any sound they made, Prince Yin Long led her towards the private gardens of the inner household. Yue looked at his broad shoulders, wondering about his adventures this past two years — how it has shaped him through his transition into adulthood after the learning pavilion, how it has helped him grow, if he remained healthy in body and mind. He still retained remnants of his boyhood introversion, but he walked straighter now, shoulders pulled back and steps firm. As they neared the lilac bushes that marked the start of the landscaped gardens, he stepped down the corridor onto damp earth, reaching a hand up to help her down. In the glow of a clear winter moon, he looked ethereal. Reminiscent of the fabled Molthear, midnight twin of the sun weaver Raythear, weaving threads of moonlight to light up the darkest corners of the world.

“You look lovely this eve, Yue. As I’m sure you must have already heard from the other apprentices plenty of times by now.”

Yue flushed, her heart a trapped hummingbird in her chest. “As do you,” she breathed. After a protracted silence, he let go of her hand and stepped back, leading the way into the garden.

“So your weaving manifested? I overheard that much from your conversation,” he prompted, appraising her beside him.

“It didn’t, only my thread sight did. Remember how I used to only be able to see threads in muted colors? I can see them clear as day now. Well, not always, but on occasion I do see them. Usually at the most unexpected times. And all I see are full-blown monochrome threads of more grey, like the translucent film over my thread sight before has matured into full opacity.” Yue blew out a frustrated breath, gazing up at the prince, hoping he could provide an explanation, his mind as sharp as his father’s. He stared pensively at the pond in the distance as they strolled, which remained still under the watchful crescent. His unhurried, long strides were easy to keep pace with, and Yue forgot about her earlier worries about her weaving, immersing herself in this stolen moment in time with her friend in companionable silence.

Prince Yin Long’s footsteps paused. His hand shot out suddenly, halting her, his head cocked towards a nearby copse of weeping willows, limned in silver in the moonlight. With full concentration on the prince’s face, Yue went on high alert and cast her senses wide. She knew there were many who would wish harm upon the crown prince, and they have provided any potential assassin with the perfect opportunity for an ambush. Yue swore internally. The prince’s eyes took on a subtle silver sheen at the edges, their natural coloration masking the glow of his weaving. He scanned the shadows cast by the willow trees with his thread sight while Yue shifted to guard his back.

A small sound like the susurration of leaves to her left was all the warning she got, a second after which a shadow leapt towards them from behind a boulder, close enough that there was no room for defensive maneuvers. Yue and the prince leapt back to dodge the assassin’s sweeping blade. Prince Yin Long pivoted around to the assassin’s back, aiming a kick at the base of the assassin’s skull. The assassin ducked, seeming to be acutely aware of the prince’s moves. As the assassin came to a half crouch, he swept his legs out. Prince Yin Long leapt up and sideways, turning midair to kick at the assassin’s jugular. The assassin leaned back, green eyes flaring. A spark, and red hot flames shot from opened palms towards the prince’s side as he landed on the ground.

Yue reacted after the glow from the assassin’s eyes gave him away. She spun in close to the assassin’s blind spot. Coming up from under the assassin’s guard, her kick to the crook of his arm changed the trajectory of his flames in the nick of time. The assassin shifted right, jumped to avoid Yue’s sweeping leg, turned in midair to punch a ball of flames towards the prince again powered by a jet of flames at his feet. Yue glanced up to see the silver lining the prince’s eyes sputter, distracting him from weaving.

Yue observed the assassin from a step away, finding his movements odd. He could have delivered a fatal blow when she got in close in her desperate move to deflect his initial flames from the prince, but chose to step away. He was also familiar enough with the prince’s weaving to know how to distract him from it.

As their dance accelerated, the prince managed a glancing punch at the assassin’s sternum, pushing him back. Prince Yin Long reached a hand out in a vise grip, quick as a cobra strike, his eyes glowing silver again. The assassin froze abruptly, his heart threads puppet strings to a master puppeteer. The royal family’s ace up their sleeves — blood weaving.

Prince Yin Long panted and relaxed his stance, his grip remaining strong. The assassin smiled behind his face cover, closing his eyes briefly. The scene in front of Yue seemed a frozen moment in time, serene in the aftermath of a drawn out battle. But her senses tingled, the hair on her nape sensitive. She stared hard at the assassin, whose eyes remained closed even as he was paralyzed by the prince’s blood lock.

“Who are you? Which house do you serve?” Prince Yin Long said as he recovered his breath. He took a step forward, shaking his outstretched arm. The assassin shook under Prince Yin Long’s weaving, a frown of pain appearing on his forehead. Before the assassin’s eyes opened, Yue felt more than saw the spark that shimmered a meter above the prince’s head.

The world exploded in a brilliant show of monochrome threads in front of Yue, dynamic and intertwined as they danced around her, disturbed by the fight that had occurred. She picked out the darker threads of the prince and the assassin, still forms a distance apart. As she looked at the prince, her blood froze.

Above him roiled a condensed mass of light threads from the moon and nearby stone lamps, gathered from far and wide due to the lack of light threads at this late hour. They sparked against each other, held together by a powerful flame weaver. As a final light thread from a stone lamp at the other end of the garden was yanked into the storm above the prince, he glanced up. His face registered the impending explosion, a mixture of shock and determination as he braced himself. But Yue was already moving.

With no weapons and nothing in her immediate surrounding to wield against two powerful weavers, she knew the hopelessness of the situation. The only thing she could consider right now was to save the prince, and she would do it at all costs. Not just as a loyal Skarian citizen, but as a friend. She put all her energy into closing the distance between her and Prince Yin Long, but she feared she could not reach him before the fatal flames above him did. In that moment, as a cloud cover passed before the moon and the world hovered in a shadowed reality, Yue stepped between two midnight strands of the Mother’s threads.

And stepped out between two others beside the prince.

He glanced down at her in shock. Yue didn’t have time to process what she just did. All she could think was to get Prince Yin Long out of danger. She smiled up at him in farewell and pushed him out of the immediate blast zone. As the clouds drifted past the moon and revealed the glittering stars above, so it did with Yue standing directly below the fiery comet, hurtling right towards her.