The long summer of Moutan was coming to an end. Although Seiren had enjoyed his time, and Pul perhaps less so, they would have to make the return journey through the Ushitora mountain range before the time of the autumn rains Shobans called murasame. The Ushitora was known for landslides in its lower reaches, and it would not be wise to leave any later in the year.

Feiyan was sitting in the Royal garden with Prince Iseulbi when he had told her that the Shoban envoys were leaving at the end of the week, and that he would be escorting them to the city gate.

"Father already told me...so what are you trying to say?" she asked with a degree of petulance that was unlike her.

Both children were sitting side by side, heads tilted together, arms hanging lazily over the rail of the pavilion that was situated out in the middle of the garden's lake. It was a rare moment of respite where they weren't buried under their academic studies and Lord Mu had dismissed them early from their martial arts training.

Feiyan stuck her bottom lip out, looking a bit glum, as she stared out from the pavilion, chin propped on one arm.

"Well, you should accompany me to see them off, A'Yan," the Prince finally responded.

Feiyan turned her head to look at her Prince.

"What...Do you think that I will miss him, your Highness?" she asked, aggravated by the limpid look in his eyes and the faint smile on his lips.

"Will you?" her Prince teased, actually smiling. "And what 'him'? I was talking about the entire diplomatic contingent...who are you thinking about...?"

Ohh... she thought, as a pair of blue eyes flashed by her mind's eye.

"Did you secretly sneak off to play with Prince Seiren's page again? What would Lord Mu say if he knew?" the Prince teased.

"Your Highness!" she gritted, flushing. "Am I not allowed friends of my own? Must I share all my secrets with you?"

When did he find out?! she wondered, annoyed.

He snickered at her expression.

Seeing that he had embarrassed her, he changed the subject, purposefully hitting a different nerve:

"But perhaps with so many strays, Lord Mu doesn't mind. How is your new puppy from Keungang?"

"Y-You-! Whatever you may say about me, you can't say anything about Pul, Hajoon, or Father!" Feiyan gritted, clenching her fists until her fingerless leather gloves creaked.

"Ehh? This Prince isn't allowed to tease you? Oi! What's got into you: A gentleman uses his words not his fists*!" Iseulbi chided, calmly blocking the sudden chop that came flying towards his neck.

Feiyan ignored him, twisting her hand and sliding her wrist. The Prince snorted, but his own hand blocked, following her motions. They exchanged moves, motions blurring, until they came to a momentary impasse, their hands and arms locked together in a rectangular shape. In the next instant, they stood up and both twisted their bodies into the air. Breaking their holds on each other, they leapt apart and tapped down lightly on the railings of the pavilion.

Facing her from the opposite side of the pavilion, Iseulbi's lips tilted into a taunting smile. Feiyan's expression hardened in response and she stubbornly planted her back foot.

Neither of them usually showed their feelings so openly, having grown up in the palace already aware of the heavy burdens they would bear in life, but today their normal restraint lifted away like autumn leaves caught in a gust of wind.

"Since I'm not and will never be a gentleman...those words shouldn't apply to me," said Feiyan, looking irritated.

"The principle is the same, but if the word 'gentleman' offends you then I'm sorry..." the Prince said, sounding amused. He stood very poised, looking every inch a prince, with one hand at his waist and the other behind his back.

Feiyan sighed. She hated being mad at him, but she also hated it when he teased her.

"Well..." said Feiyan. "I'm not as good as you with words, but I'm willing to settle this with a friendly competition. What do you think?"

Her scowl had changed to a smirk of challenge.

Heh! Why not? thought the Prince.

Iseulbi was the less skilled of the two due to his weaker body, but what he lacked in power, he made up with composure and foresight, having inherited his father's infinite patience. Even though he was only on the cusp of ten, he had a maturity beyond his years, and for a moment his eyes looked deeper than a dark pool.

Feiyan felt his attitude shifting.

Oh...so he got serious...Then it'll only be more fun when I beat him.

The young prince was normally quite careful about challenging Feiyan, but seeing her agitation, he felt that there was an opportunity here. If her heart was unsettled, then he could win against her.

Although Lord Mu has been careful with her training, she has more of a temper than I do...my Royal Mother's tyranny has taught me extensive patience, but it has only taught Feiyan to harbour her resentments. I can tell that the Lotus pond incident disrupted her training...If even I can see that she is bottlenecked, then everyone else will have noticed. Thus, I can only help her like this...

He sighed, and extending his hand, palm up, he invited Feiyan's strike.

Unexpectedly, she turned and leapt out of the pavilion, running across the lake with qinggong. Pushing off, he followed swiftly, realizing that she was taking them to a more secluded area of the expansive garden to avoid causing a commotion. However, before he could tap down, she had turned about and aimed a kick at his gut.

Still smirking, he turned his body and blocked her foot with his own foot, pushing them both backwards as he gracefully tapped down ten feet away. Looking cool and collected, they smiled at each other. As if on cue, the wind surged around them, shaking the green, gold, red, and orange leaves off the trees and swirling them into the air.

Of course, such stirrings could not go unnoticed by the experts in the palace....and soon anyone who had any interest in martial arts had secretly snuck over to watch the competition between the two talented children...including the two princes of Shobu.

"What are they doing?" Pul frowned, peering down from his spot on a roof ridge where they were hiding and watching.

He noted that the Prince and his little masked Shadow guard were standing facing each other, each holding a branch they'd snapped from a nearby tree.

"Hmmmn," Seiren muttered with a slight frown. His eyes narrowed.

"Well your Highness, leaves or something else this time? And what's the wager?" asked Feiyan, head tilted.

"Leaves. If I win, then you promise to be more reserved in your speech and actions. If you win, how about a week's worth of my pastries?" asked Iseulbi, expression mild.

Feiyan grunted.

"Sweets can't satisfy my pride. I only want your apology for teasing me," she sighed.

"Fine, I can agree to that. Let's begin."

Bowing, Feiyan grinned under her mask, and started to move, flowing through the sword forms.

Iseulbi followed suit, also grinning as he spun.

Even though they were children, they flowed together like water, skillfully weaving back and forth, their footwork light as clouds as they whirled together like mirror images. Side by side, back to back, facing each other, they moved gracefully and precisely through the sword forms.

Though they were not exerting a huge amount of inner force, the push and pull of their movements drew the eye in as if heaven and earth had suddenly centered itself within the dance of their bodies. The wind blew around them as if they were at the core of a great vortex. Seeing the whirl of coloured leaves whipping about, the onlookers could only be mesmerized by the sight of the sword dance.

But their movements ended almost as abruptly as they began like the flashing brilliance of a comet. The children stopped mid-way, carefully refraining from using the last moves of what was obviously a well-practiced set. On Feiyan's side, all the leaves that had blown up around her were neatly cut in half...while the same was true for the Prince's side, there were fewer in number.

Iseulbi sighed ruefully.

"I admit defeat. Sweets and an apology I can give you, but I advise you to be more restrained with your actions and words. You can't be provoked by everything that happens in the palace."

Now that Feiyan had calmed down, she understood that her distemper had caused her Prince some anxiety. Seeing that she had worried him, Feiyan nodded to the Prince and knelt, thankful for the subtle way her adored friend had carried out the gentle rebuke.

"You're right, your Highness. Feiyan will remember it properly."

"That's good...let's go A'Yan...I'm hungry to death now..." said the Prince, making her giggle.

To any ordinary person passing by, it would appear as if the two children had just done a pretty dance in the garden, but the martial experts who had secretly watched the sword dance had recognized the wild and surging power that had been concealed within the moves of the Prince and his guard. Some of the onlookers felt awe, while others could only feel uneasy.

Pul could only gape.

"...And that is a sight that I didn't think I would see in my lifetime," said Seiren with great satisfaction, leaning back against the roof tiles as the Prince and his Shadow guard disappeared from sight. "How enlightening."

"What was it?" asked Pul, sounding astonished. His mind still awhirl with the image of churning leaves and swift strikes.

"That was the Peony Sword dance of the Moutan kings. I had thought that it was more of a ceremonial dance, but I can see that I was wrong. That was a very pretty and simplified version of what is, at its core, a very deadly form of sword arts."

"Why?"

"It seems to gather it's force directly from its surroundings using a person's cultivation at its core...like an aggressive siphon that sucks up everything in its path. The destructive nature of that set of moves is not to be underestimated. I'm just a late stage practitioner, maybe the equivalent of what's called Metal stage here in Moutan, but even I could tell that someone who has mastered those moves would be able to kill with something as innocuous as leaves or even flower petals."

"That's possible?" asked Pul sounding dubious. Only the ancient, high level cultivators could imbue their powers into objects or project physical manifestations that could kill. In Shobu, it was considered mythical.

Sieren laughed.

"In Shobu, our great sorcerers rely on spells and talismans. The practice of inner cultivation was discarded because it requires aptitude and for your body to meet certain conditions. Not even a third of Shobu's population has the right body constitution to cultivate due to the demonic energy said to be trapped in the Ushitora mountain range. Also, magic infused items are plentiful and even common people can use them. With talismans, ordinary people can suppress minor spirits and demons. However, the people of Moutan are still able to practice inner cultivation as part of their martial arts. The Prince and his guard...though they're still very young, they're both on the edge of being peak stage practitioners...it's quite unheard of for their age..."

Pul looked thoughtful.

How eye opening...This trip to Moutan has not been wasted...

"Not so willing to leave your little friend now?" asked Seiren, smirking. You think I don't know what you've been doing? Sneaking off to see that little kunoichi...

Pul glowered at him, but he kept his mouth firmly shut.

Seiren laughed, noticing that the tips of his brother's ears were very pink.

I wonder what you would think, if you knew that it was a girl under that mask...in the end I just want you to be happy and live your life freely...but Father has other plans that I must do my utmost to stop...

Brushing himself off, Seiren held his hand out to his younger brother, feeling a surge of protectiveness and worry.

Pul...if only I could tell you everything...he thought with a heavy heart.

***

The preparations for departure went well and at the end of the week, the Shoban contingent left the palace of Moutan for the last time.

The King of Moutan, along with most of his officials, had come to the palace gate to see them off. In a rare show of impropriety, the King hoisted Princess Yuna up in his arms so she could wave as Seiren and his retainers passed.

"Farewell, Seiren Gege*!" Yuna shouted before being shushed by her father, but she only grinned and resolutely stuck her thumb back in her mouth.

The little girl waved dutifully to her intended bridegroom while smearing something sticky on her father's robes, causing Byul's face to contort with horror. Xiao Jing Feng simply ignored it, content to pat his little Princess on the back as she watched.

As usual, Seiren waved back with a charming smile, keeping his expression diplomatically composed despite wanting to roar with laughter at the gaffe. Furusawa who was also amused, turned his face and coughed.

Riding alongside Pul, Prince Iseulbi puffed his own laugh as he noticed his sister's minor indiscretion. On the other hand, Pul was distracted by Iseulbi's nearness. He was still surprised that the Moutan Prince had chosen to escort them to the north eastern city gate.

Xing, Haruka, and Feiyan who had been instructed to keep watch on the convoy, followed closely, staying hidden as they tapped lightly over the roof ridges toward that side of the city.

Sitting atop his horse, Pul wasn't sure how he felt about leaving Moutan. On the one hand, an entirely new world had opened up: he had escaped the palace of Shuto and accompanied his brother on a journey to a foreign kingdom and seen and done things that he would never dream of doing had he stayed trapped in the palace annex.

His heart tugged a little as his mixed feelings teetered back and forth. In Moutan, he had attended school, become acquainted with Prince Iseulbi and done what normal boys his age would have done. Had he not been an unwanted Prince in Shobu, this would have been his life.

This parting would be more than bittersweet.

"You look like you have much on your mind today, Student Pul," observed Prince Iseulbi.

Pul hurriedly yanked his attention back to the present.

"Yes, your Highness," he acknowledged with a brief smile. "I've enjoyed my experiences here," he said, blushing awkwardly.

And I didn't expect to become your friend...

Prince Iseulbi merely nodded.

"Your Highness...I..." Pul began clumsily. He pushed away the feeling of distance coming from the Prince's cool demeanor.

Why does he seem so indifferent today...?

The spot between Pul's eyebrows creased as he tried to puzzle it out. The feeling he was getting from this person was like a deep pool of water...not the fiery, mischievous boy he'd sat next to only a few days ago. Confusion flitted across his face.

No, it must only be that there are many eyes. He must maintain such composure as befits the Crown Prince of Moutan...but still this feels so awkward!

"Your Highness, I forgot to thank you for your help at the academy. You didn't need to step in...and well..." Pul burst out in a rush.

"Uhm...yes...?" the Prince asked, taken aback. He shoved down his growing embarrassment, wondering what Feiyan had done in his absence.

"I...your kindness over the last weeks...I, uhm..." Pul stuttered, blushing.

Seiren, who had noticed the two boys lagging behind the rest of convoy, had let his horse slowly fall back, so he'd been listening to his brother's clumsy attempts at conversation with half an ear when he heard Prince Iseulbi's abrupt exclamation of surprise.

At that precise moment, the Prince's horse had stumbled on a rock.

Iseulbi jerked, accidentally pulling the bridle sideways, causing the horse to skitter. At the same time, Pul hastily reached out to try to steady the other boy.

Unexpectedly, their bodies crashed together.

Pul's brain exploded as he realized his lips had brushed up against something soft.

"Y-You! Ah...!" Iseulbi squawked, holding his face, and staring at Pul.

"Ack! Sorry...it was an accident!" Pul yelped in panic as he righted himself, pushing his back ramrod straight in the saddle and staring straight ahead. He covered the lower half of his face, feeling a burning sensation on his lips.

Seiren realized with a mixture of shock and mirth that Pul had reached too far over and had fallen against the Prince's face, brushing the other boy's cheek with his mouth.

Prince Iseulbi was mortified, but with great effort calmed himself. He awkwardly dropped his hand from his face, said:

"No matter...it's just a misunderstanding..."

Iseulbi paused to clear his throat, and then he realized that they had already reached the city gate. Scrambling for the shreds of his composure, he said:

"Since I can only send you up to here, I wish you well on your journey, Your Highness Seiren, young page, Pul. If we are fated, we'll see each other again*."

Then he nodded and with a snap of the reins, he spurred back towards the palace, trying to hide his flaming face.

Pul groaned, bringing his hand over his eyes, wishing that he could crawl into a hole.

"Don't worry..." said Seiren chuckling. "It could have been worse...it could have been his lips..."

No...no, I don't think it could have been any worse than that...luckily no one saw it.

Unfortunately, that was not the case. High on the city gate wall, Haruka, Xing, and Feiyan were rolling on the stone of the walkway, filling their bellies with their laughter.

"Oh Pul...you clumsy idiot," whispered Feiyan, wiping the tears of laughter from her cheeks, as she peaked her head back over the wall to watch his receding figure. "I wish you well on your journey, and I really hope we meet again."

__________________________________________

*"君子動口不動手" – another translation would be 'a gentleman uses his mouth, not his hands' but since that makes my wicked brain go to a BL place, I changed the translation slightly.

*哥哥 – Older brother. Here Yuna is using it as the familiar term for an unrelated older male.

*后会有期 – a rather formal way to say farewell when you're not sure if you'll meet again - it's common to wuxia and historical C dramas, but not day to day conversation.