It felt strange for Liao to wear something other than his gilded verdigris-silk robe, stranger still pretending to be a guardsman under his captain. Huli had argued – but when Liao stated that he would leave with or without the captain, and seen the grim certainty in his eyes, Huli agreed, on condition he bring one of his most trusted men.

They strode out from the imperial square, a sweeping courtyard that would take an entire legion to fill, of which it had many times before. Their armored boots rasped against the stone tiles, echoing back from the distant walls. Sweat dribbled down Liao's back from the smothering weight of his armor.

“This will never work,” the captain growled.

“Why wouldn’t it?” Liao asked. “I’m the same as you.”

The prince’s face was hidden beneath a helmet, funneling his vision through a T-shaped opening.

“We walk—you saunter, gongwei,” Huli said, stating his title as if it would soften the edge of his words. “Anyone can see you stick out like a Jade eyed. Sometimes it’s not the look of a man, but how one holds themselves. You hold yourself like a man who isn’t a guard, or a soldier for that matter. Now, tell me, where are you taking us?”

“I’ll tell you when I know,” Liao murmured. “Where’s the black market?”

The captain halted, jerking the prince back by the flanged backside of his helmet.

“I’ve watched over you since you were a swaddled babe,” Huli said. “I’ve fought for your father and your line for over two decades. I did not spend those years in service so you could play games with our lives. Tell me—now. What would you want from the black market?”

Liao knew what the man just did was treason, even facing the possibility of execution. It was why he trusted him – like a councilor, perhaps even a father at the worst times. Perhaps there was no distinction between the two, Liao mused.

“I will purchase a brew, derived from a true Herb.”

“Why in all Stones’ colors would you want such a thing?”

“All you need to know,” Liao said, “is that I will do whatever it takes to claim it. Will you help me, or be responsible for my fate alone?”

He hated having to blackmail a man that had only been fair to him. Harsh at times when he was younger, but fair.

The captain nodded with solemn acceptance. “If we’re going, you’ll have to meet with the Taorin first.”

“Who are they?”

“Your father rules the Dynasty, gongwei. But he can only rule what he sees. The Taorin rule whatever part of Qei his back is turned from.”

Liao guffawed underneath his helmet. If there was anything the Emperor had turned his back to time and time again, it was his family.

Hightown was a maze of alleyways and crammed cobbled streets wide enough for just two carts to roll side by side. There were only a few times Liao remembered visiting the district, when his father returned from a Border skirmish or war, celebrating with victory parades of firecrackers and sashaying costumed dancers. Ribbons of vibrant silk twirling with the breeze, the peoples’ praise wrapping around him as he sat over his father’s saddle. That was a long time ago, when he thought the man who carried him into the world was more than just an Emperor. What colors of memory Liao had now faded with the years of dredged disappointment.

Dust clouded from laundry women beating their clothes with wooden staves. The sun hung high and clear, pelting the streets in its hazy heat. Rickshaw men pestered them for services over their pulled carts. Old men drank tea over round tables and played the ivory piece game, mahjong. They entered the dead-end of another street, where a trio of men sat around a table beside a doorway.

“I’ll do the talking,” Huli muttered, walking towards them.

One man stood. He was taller than the monk Renshu, nearly seven-feet tall; a tinge of giant’s blood in his veins, Liao mused. It was an act of the Allmother his black tunic didn’t rip from the seams. His bullish neck held his rat’s face, cunning little dark eyes flitting between the three of them.

His voice was a soft-spoken rasp. “We don’t often see imperial guards here, much less still in their armor.”

“Not often,” Captain Huli said, “but we come here all the same.”

The man gestured to the others. “We’ll need your weapons if you want to pass.”

After they had taken away their swords, he still held out a hand.

“Take off your helmets.”

Huli did as he asked, followed by the other guardsman, Liao doing the same.

The man stared down the captain. “If it isn’t Huli himself. Thought you’d sworn yourself away from this place.”

“Times change, Tuoshi,” Huli said.

The man sniggered, his gaze slipping to Liao. He stood over him. Liao could smell his breath: chewed mint that couldn’t cover his putrid foulness.

“Look at me,” Tuoshi breathed. “My, you’re a pretty man.”

Liao didn’t flinch. He stared back, envisioning the fate of his sister if he didn’t finish what he’d set out to do. Something in his stare made Tuoshi grin, waving them on.

“Let them through. No Black-eyed today, just sweet brown lumps.”

Liao blinked once he donned back his helm. The man’s reference meant their Haolan brown eyes – not a darker shade that would betray a herbal user, or the brighter color of an elixir drinker. They were weaponless; and powerless.

Inside was a mass of tables filled with sitting nobles and officials, a court of debauchery. One woman was kneeling between a sitting man’s legs. From another table two men embraced each other, mouths crushed together. Others simply watched the stage of a one string-hiu player and songstress while serving women granted the patrons food, drink, or even themselves.

“Sit down,” Huli murmured. “They’ll come to us.”

They sat at a corner table, as far away as they could from the others. A woman in a very loose pale dress swayed towards them.

“Business or pleasure?” she asked, soft and discreet.

“Business,” Huli grunted.

The woman bowed. “Please, follow me.”

Making her way towards a nearby staircase, she led them to an open room, bowing. "Master Gobin will meet with you shortly."

Sliding the wooden door shut, she left them in the sudden stillness. They sat down beside another table.

Liao said to Huli, “I never thought you were well familiar with such a place.”

“I was. Rud helped me sleep,” the man stated, ending the subject.

The other guardsman said, “The whores didn’t hurt as well.”

“Shut your mouth, Fong—before I make sure you’ll end up guarding the Border if we live through this. Now you know, Liao. These people rule the dark, and the sun casts long shadows in this city.”

Liao didn’t reply. He knew in fact very little, and would try to learn as much as he could of this world – and perhaps survive.