Disclaimer: I'm not sure who owns Avatar but it was created by DiMartino & Konietzko. Original idea for this fic is Psyckosama's.

Waking with a headache is never a good sign for the rest of the day. I rolled over, pulled the silk sheets up around me and thanked my good fortune for a shift pattern that made getting up in the morning entirely optional. In my own defence, I was still half asleep and it took me a moment to register the anomaly.

Silk sheets?

Hell no. I don't use those anytime, much less mid-winter. I should have had two duvets keeping me toasty warm. Instead, one light sheet that seemed to be more for modesty than for temperature control. It was actually quite pleasantly warm.

Okay. Dreaming? I seriously doubted it. Not many of my dreams would involve large, luxurious bed... okay, yes, some of them do, but not alone.

Groan, sit up. Look around.

It's a large room – but not exactly cluttered. A couple of dressers near the walls, some artwork that has an oriental feel to it. The bed's a big four-poster job with very thin, veil-like curtains. To keep insects off? The temperature feels tropical, so maybe. Whoever did the decor liked red and black. The tall windows are blocked by heavy curtains – a couple of cracks between then paint lines of light across the carpet. One door, again very tall. This place has a seriously high ceiling. It's nowhere I've ever seen before.

"The hell?" I flipped the sheets back and kicked my legs off the side of the bed, pushing back the curtains until I found a gap. I hadn't been wearing any sleeping garb and the carpet was very soft beneath my feet. It felt expensive. Everything looked expensive. I looked...

Mirror. I need a mirror.

There was one by the door. The face that looked back at me was half-familiar, half strange. The shapes were mostly right but my skin was darker than I was used to, and there were no freckles. I looked young – no beard, more hair up top and that was darker too. Almost black. And I had muscles. Lots of muscles. I could see them moving under the skin. Same nose, same high forehead. My eyes had epicanthic folds and I couldn't tell for sure if they were the same colour. Possibly they were greener, possibly not. Hair, shoulder-length and prone to curl. No change there. I combed it back with my fingers and frowned at the unevenness. Part, near my right temple, had been cut close or shaven and was growing out again. It was still noticeably shorter, after what I guessed must have been several months.

Another shot of pain from my head and I pinched at the bridge of my nose. Water might help. Fortunately there was a jug near my bedside, along with a cup. It wasn't even tepid, suggesting that someone had placed it there not too long before I woke. How long had I been here? What had happened to me? I sipped the water and looked around again.

This time I saw the paper on my pillow. Or perhaps it hadn't been there when I woke. I didn't think of that possibility at the time.

Welcome to the Fire Nation. Yes, that Fire Nation.

Your name here is Liao Quan, grandson of the great General Quan, beloved fiancé of Princess Azula. In the course of the events with which you are familiar, Liao died of a head injury a few months ago. You will recall his memories when you next meet your betrothed.

Not many get a second chance. Don't screw this up.

As missives go, it was short, to the point and utterly terrifying. It also disappeared in a puff of pink smoke once I was done reading it.

It would be nice to say that I immediately sprang into action, a plan leaping to mind. Uh, yeah. Obviously.

"Son of a BITCH!" The water jug smashed against the opposite wall, shards bouncing back on the carpet. I hate it when people play games with me. Second chance? At what? Life? Someone was a judgemental bastard. Unfortunately they were also outside my reach. Water stained the wall.

Okay. Step one, find Azula, get hold of Liao's memories, find out how much trouble I'm in. I looked in the mirror. Right, step one: find some pants. Step two, find Azula. Wherever I am, it has to be high society Fire Nation: if not the Royal Palace then some property belonging to this Liao Quan's family. Walking around with no pants is probably not going to impress anyone. I looked down. Okay, anyone important.

Fortunately, the dressers had some clothes in them and I was using a sash to secure the waist of some breeches when door opened and admitted –

The breath left my lungs as I met golden eyes. It would be romantic, if untrue, to say that it was the girl's beauty that overwhelmed me. Not that Azula is unattractive – far from it. But as promised, the sight of her sent memories flooding through me.

Liao Quan was sixteen, with years fewer memories than I. But there was an intensity to his life that was shocking. And Azula was a powerful part of that life. We'd been engaged almost from birth, by our grandfathers – Fire Lord Azulon rewarding the services of his old comrade Quan with a union of their two houses. It was a contentious match: Quan governed a swathe of the colonies that had been founded in the north-western Earth Kingdom and my grandmother on that side was a war bride, daughter to an Earth Kingdom trading dynasty. My father, child of that marriage, had wed back into the Fire Nation's nobility but not well (I later recalled that Ty Lee was a third cousin through our mothers). Mixed blood was not an attractive feature in those noble houses still embedded in the Home Islands.

Azula and I – and Liao Quan, dammit! – had not met at all in the first decade of the engagement. Her own father didn't favour the match, but even after Azulon's death he was still too recently on the throne to risk forfeiting the support of the Quan. And of course, we had been reared far apart, she here in the Royal Palace and I in my grandfather's marginally less opulent mansion in the colonies. Only after Zuko's exile, with Azula as the new presumptive heir, that I was brought – that Liao Quan was brought to the Home Islands to meet his fiancée.

It hadn't exactly been love at first sight.

"Liao?" Azula didn't waste time on such nonsense as stating the obvious fact that I was awake. "How do you feel?" What I'd seen of Azula in the show would have me expecting, if not malice then at least an implied reminder of superiority in her voice. I wasn't hearing that. For that matter, if it wasn't for Liao's memories to fall back upon I might not even have recognised Azula with her hair down and wearing a ladylike robe rather than the armour that she was more commonly seen in. She looked happy and her words seemed more concerned than anything. What bizarre world was I in? Her eyes narrowed sharply after a moment and I realised that I was staring mutely at her.

"You take my breath away," I told her, making some shift towards gallantry. "You always have."

She placed her hands against my bare chest, rising to tiptoes so that she could kiss me chastely upon the lips. Her skin was warm against mine and I closed my own hands upon her shoulders. Memories of earlier kisses flooded through me. Not many, we – Liao and... Fuck it. It feels like we. - we had been chaperoned fairly closely most of the time. Of course, most of those kisses had been from a time when there hadn't been a chaperone at all.

We were both slightly flushed when we – by mutual consent – drew a little apart. The smile on her lips was possessive – but also almost... joyous. "Finish getting dressed," she instructed me. "Breakfast is being served. And then we're going to be leaving on a romantic cruise."

"Another one? I can hardly wait." The last one had more or less worked out, I supposed, based on Liao's memories.

"Just you, me, Lo, Li and a small army of firebenders."

"It sounds very intimate," I agreed drily. Azula laughed, kissed me again and was gone. Imperious, affectionate and - lest I forget - daddy's girl. Heaven help me, I liked her.

.oOo.

The servants, fortunately, had a better idea of where suitable clothes were than I did. Something simple – a silk shirt and a lightweight robe – was deemed suitable for informal dining with a royal princess. One of them tied the elaborate laces that secured my boots to my feet. I resolved to try not to trip over the spectacularly pointed toes (turned out not to be a problem). The same woman put my hair in a topknot that according to Liao's memories signified my warrior status. I wasn't looking forward to doing that for myself, hopefully muscle memory would guide me.

No mention was made of the broken jug or of the damp wall. They simply, efficiently, began to clear up. I suppose given the occasional royal tantrum anything less than fire damage was unlikely to cause excitement. I left them to it and for the first time left the bedchamber.

I didn't have any trouble finding where breakfast was being served, the smell was rather a giveaway and I could practically feel my mouth watering. Nowhere in the royal palace – except the dungeons – served subpar food, but the cooks who served Azula's apartments were second only to her father's. In theory they served the whole wing, which was large enough to accommodate half a dozen royal siblings, but since Zuko's exile it had been Azula's domain.

I took the time to refresh my memory of recent events in Liao Quan's life. I'd been in the colonies, leading a company of soldiers when we were ambushed by a good-sized force of Earth Kingdom soldiers supported by earthbenders. I hadn't even been a target – we were escorting my father between the family estates and the army he commanded in the rather nebulous region that could be considered the frontline. A boulder the size of an elephant had flattened his palanquin with him inside it.

It surprised me for a moment to feel that Liao's grief was distant – a matter of duty not close affection for his father. But then, they had seen little enough of each other – Liao's father had been busy working his way up the ranks of the army, duties that took him away from the family estates for months at a time. It was his mother and his grandfather who were the real parental figures in his life.

The sight of his – our? – father's death had been the last thing that I had seen before a smaller stone caught me in the temple. Presumably this was the head injury that had killed him according to the note. So how I had come to be in the Royal Palace was a mystery to be solved, although the answer would clearly lie with Azula.

I didn't even have to raise a hand before the door was silently whipped open in front of me. So this was being waited on hand and foot. I could see the appeal, but I suspected that it would become smothering, given time. The dining room was like the rest of the place. Rather formal. Azula was sat on a modest throne at the far end of the room, a table of black wood in front of her. Similar tables were lined down either side of the room's central aisle, cushions behind them for lesser mortals to kneel at while they ate facing the aisle. Informal dining, Fire Nation style.

"...understand your attachment to your fiancé," said one of the two crones facing Azula, their backs to the door. "But surely it will not be necessary to remove him from the palace while you are retrieving your brother. He can be tended easily here while you are away and should he awaken then he will be here for you upon your return."

Azula chewed gently upon a cherry, giving every appearance of considering the advice she was receiving. Since leaving my chamber she'd put her hair up in the tight bun that resembled my own topknot. Her expression was colder: public face I guessed. Much what I'd seen in the show. Something Liao had seen many times. She, of course, could see me entering, but she gave no sign of it.

The other old woman added: "The physicians advise that a sea voyage might pose a threat to his recovery, highness. Surely you would not risk his health merely out of sentiment." I didn't know if it was Li or Lo making that point, but I doubted their sincerity. The pair of them were Ozai's creatures – had been as far back as Liao could recall. And Ozai did not enjoy the idea of his daughter and heir marrying someone of mixed blood.

If I was still comatose, left in the palace without Azula's immediate protection, there was a very good chance my health would go into a sudden and terminal decline. How sad. I had no doubt that I would be far more pleasing to the Fire Lord as a dead martyr. And curiously, I could believe that Azula would be genuinely grief-stricken. That... I searched my memory. Liao's memory, rather. A bratty girl who played the perfect child for her father. Yes, that was what she had been like when we first met. Who did Azula trust enough now to see past that facade? And if the answer was no one...

Yes. That made sense. No wonder that in the end, left behind by Ozai, defeated by Zuko and Katara, there had been nothing left.

"I suppose that you are correct," she said at last. "Until Liao awakens, he can remain here at the palace." She met my eyes and her lips curved very slightly. "How I hate to be parted from him."

The old crones weren't stupid and picked up the cue that there was someone behind them.

"Well, I think a sea voyage would do wonders for my health."

It was hard to tell through the wrinkles, but I think the look on their faces were venomous.

"And after being away for two years... well, I'd really rather not be parted from you either, Azula. How convenient that we won't have to be." Servants hastened to lay trays of food upon the small table nearest to Azula's left hand and I took the hint, walking past the two old woman to reach that table.

"Lord Quan," the first to speak said. "How good it is to see that you have awoken at last. We have all been very worried for you. Perhaps you should consult a physician before joining the expedition however. Head injuries can be so dangerous."

Azula picked another cherry from one of the bowls on her table. "My personal surgeon is seeing to Liao's care. There is no need to concern yourselves." She glanced towards the door. "Instead, why don't the two of you make your own preparations to depart. You can also spread the good news of Liao's recovery. We have private matters to discuss."

"Your highness, for propriety's sake..."

"Do you imagine I would endanger my beloved's recovery?" Icy anger dripped from her every word. Oh yeah, that's a side of Azula that didn't surprise me one little bit. "I will see the two of you on the ship when it is time to depart. Until then I suggest that you find other things to occupy your time."

They left. Azula did not relax her stiff posture, giving me no clue as to what to do. Sit? Go to her? She was prickly, stubborn, proud. And fourteen. I – not Liao, I – remember having a fourteen year old sister. Admitting that she needed anything or anyone would not be easy for her. Which didn't mean that it wasn't true.

L'audace, l'audace. Toujours l'audace. A brilliant military leader said that and it might appeal to Azula. Instead of sitting at the table, I stepped over to hers and went to one knee, putting our faces on a level. There were only two cherries left in the bowl and I scooped them up, offering one to her. She held my gaze for a moment before leaning forwards slightly and closing her lips around it, barely brushing the tips of my fingers. I ate the other cherry and waited for her to say something.

"How much do you remember?"

"I remember you. How could I not?" I paused. "There are... other matters I am less certain of."

"Your father is dead."

"That was almost the last thing I saw before – before today. I gather it was very nearly the last thing I ever saw."

Her expression was fierce. "I almost lost you. I am not letting you go again."

"I hope you don't expect me to argue with you on that." I moved back to my own table and this time I did kneel behind it. "So, why don't you tell me about this romantic cruise that we're setting off on?"

.oOo.

Azula's explanation was more than sufficient to orientate me with regard to recent events. It was two weeks since the Night of the Red Moon – something that had coincided with my beginning to show signs of stirring from the coma. News filtering back from the remains of Zhao's expeditionary force had been enough for Ozai to declare his brother as a traitor and order his arrest, along with that of Zuko. Obviously such an important mission could not be entrusted to just anyone, and so Azula was given the responsibility for accomplishing it. I had my doubts, but she didn't seem to share them.

"My uncle is an old fool and my brother -" Words seemed to fail her as she snorted in disgust.

"Well I wasn't worrying about him, although we aren't all as gifted as you are." I cracked my knuckles. "The Dragon of the West is another matter. He may have let himself go... but would your father have given you this mission unless it was worthy of your talents?"

Azula's brow furrowed. "Perhaps there is something to what you say." I wasn't sure how much weight she'd put on it – I had the sense that she was humouring me. But then, that in itself was far more tolerance than I would have expected even with Liao's memories. Clearly the two years he had been away had changed her. I wondered how much Liao had changed – other than becoming me of course.

"In the interests of not spoiling my appetite with the subject of – what did you call him? Zuzu? – let's discuss something else. Your firebending, for example. I'm sure that you must have improved since your last letter." It was, as I recalled, a major topic of those letters. There really is only so much about standing watching your father imposing his will upon bellicose Fire Nation nobility that even the most besotted teenage girl will include in her love letters.

Speaking of which, I reminded myself, she's fourteen, you dog. Even if she doesn't act like any fourteen year old girl that you've met before. Don't do anything stupid. Mutinous sixteen year old parts of me sulked, particularly when Azula smiled.

"I've attained heights of firebending that most masters don't even dream of."

"So the guardians of your maidenly virtue are only carping two or three times about every step you make." We exchanged smiles. Their constant criticism of details of Azula's firebending that I found imperceptible – and as Liao had been a firebender, I presumed that I was too – was as nothing as to the amount of fuss that Lo and Li made if there was the least suspicion that Azula and I had in any way violated the strictures of Fire Nation courtship. Given the tales that were still circulating about the two of them when they were our age, that made them hypocrites, but Liao had found their speculations most educational when he was thirteen.

This had been after we had spent three months shipwrecked upon a smallish island as a result of our last 'romantic cruise'. It had, as far as Liao recalled, been quite an interesting occasion if you considered being solely responsible for feeding yourself and an injured eleven year old girl based on a rather limited knowledge of fishing and farming. Fortunately, we had been found before the storm season began. Mind you, the sudden absence of the Fire Lord's only non-banished heir and her fiancé had started unseasonal storms between the Fire Lord and my grandfather.

"I'm sure that they'll be more than happy to help you get back into shape." Azula seemed at least a little too pleased about that prospect, but I suppose I had it coming. "I want you in your best fighting form when we reach the colonies. After all, anything less might lead your mother to believe I wasn't taking care of you properly."

Something about that sent a chill down my spine. Then I remembered Liao's mother and understood perfectly. "She's been writing to you?"

"Oh yes. Very regularly. I can see you inherited that trait from her side of the family." She smiled. "My grandfather framed one of your grandfather's letters once. Father gave it to me after he took the throne."

"Oh?"

" 'Have the honour to report capture of seven enemy generals outside Omashu. Congratulations upon birth of Prince Ozai. Quan.' " The quotation seemed to please her. "Most generals would be a little more excited about one of the most successful campaigns for a decade. And the calligraphy is atrocious."

"Well, he didn't become a general by shedding the blood of your grandfather's enemies with a writing brush. Mind you, if the stories are to be believed he did kill an enemy officer with a signal fan during a night-time reconnaissance."

"A signal fan? But why did he not – ah, night-time reconnaissance. So he must have been very close to the enemy." Azula seemed fascinated by this tale of military accomplishment. She wasn't just a pyromaniac, after all.

"Indeed. And having hidden the body of said officer so that no one realised he had been there, the following dawn he marched a regiment right through those supposedly well hidden fortifications," I concluded. After a moment I gestured to indicate that no, really, that was the end of the story.

My princess gave me a sharp look. "You are a true son of Quan," she declared. "Although you never used to have difficulty emptying your plate."

I looked down at the food that I had been picking at in a desultory. Not being an afficando of eastern foodstuffs, it hadn't looked very appetising, but the smell and the fact that apparently I had 'inherited' Liao Quan's tastebuds along rest of him had overcome those reservations. "I was a growing boy." It was hard to guess exactly how tall I was now, but I felt about the same height. "But you are right. It seems my appetite has not fully recovered yet."

She clapped her hands sharply, drawing the instant attention of the servants who had been discreetly attending upon us. "Summon the physician for Lord Quan," she ordered. "Until then, I wish to be alone with my fiancé."

It was a credit to their survival instincts that none of them seemed to even pause in weighing the later wrath of Li and Lo against the immediate fury of Azula.

When we were alone: "You once told me how foolish it was to hide pain behind bravado. Do I need to teach you the same lesson?"

I appeared to have annoyed her. "I have a slight headache. I am more tired than I should be for such trivial exertion as I have had since I woke. I am not in pain." My voice was a trifle testy and I forced myself to be calm. Anger would accomplish nothing here. "I am... embarrassed."

She half-rose from her chair. "Embarrassed? To have been ambushed by a pack of cowardly Earthbenders? The soldiers of your company report that you killed three of them yourself."

For a moment I saw a rush of fire from my hands. Blackened fire that had once been a face. My gorge rose and I lowered my face, trying to hide the difficulty that I was having in keeping my meal down.

"Perhaps it is foolish of me."

"Yes." Now she was standing in front of me. "It is foolish, Liao Quan. I did not choose a fool to stand beside me so please do not play at being one." Her hand touched my chin, drawing it up, as her voice lowered to a whisper. "The opinion of a few sycophants does not matter to me."

"And who else's opinion matters?" I smiled thinly. "Well, other than your father's."

"No ones. My father will recognise you given time. We will be the strongest couple in the world." She drew closer. I could smell her perfume. "I don't know why he sent you away."

"Because like any ruler, his power rests on the love and the fear of his people. And I love you more than I fear him."

Azula's eyes went wide for an instant and her hand flicked to my collar drawing me forwards into a passionate kiss.

All things considered, the physician really didn't pick the ideal moment to enter the room.

.oOo.

I really was embarrassed to find that I did feel a little unstable as I walked back to the bedchamber. Possibly it was the result of Liao's long coma, or perhaps shock on my part. Most likely both.

Azula most assuredly did not hover over me during that little stroll. While word of our little indiscretion had probably not reached the ears of her father yet, a combination of the implicit threat that being caught in a display of affection carried with it and the quite genuine need to make the usual last minute preparations for departure had drawn her away.

"You need not look quite so smug, young man." The physician would have looked down his nose at me if it hadn't been for the fact I was noticeably larger than he was. "You didn't invent that sort of behaviour, however fond you might be of it."

"Clearly I shall have to be more creative." I sat on the bed and started to unlace my boots. A servant, suitably scandalised, hastened to take over that strenuous activity from me. Probably for the best, the knots were unbelievable. "So what are you going to do first? Examine my teeth?"

"I did that while you were comatose. Other than your left incisor there's nothing wrong with them." The physician pressed his fingers against my right temple and pressed. Hard. I took it stoically because it really didn't hurt in comparison to my headache. "Hmm well your skull seems to have healed nicely. Headache?"

"Yeah."

"It'll wear off. Drink tea – jasmine or ginseng will be best – and reflect that you're lucky that you didn't have enough brains in your head to leak out before your skull healed."

I nodded, pulling my head away. "Tea. Great. I'll turn into the Dragon of the West."

"You should be so lucky. Your appetite will return with time. Don't force yourself to eat but keep some food around. Small portions, often, will help you regain your strength better than gorging yourself would. I'd tell you to get some exercise but I'm sure that the Princess will see to that." My expression must have conveyed my 'what the hell' response because he laughed. "And not in the way that you'll like. She's been planning a whole training regime for your recovery and I don't envy you the experience."

Face meet palm. Palm, face. "That doesn't surprise me. Thank you for your advice."

Alone in the room for a moment I lay back and rested my eyes. Fortunately or otherwise, this value of alone meant there were servants in easy earshot – perhaps even watching me discreetly – which meant gibbering in incoherent fear was out of the question. And so, when raging in the confines of my mind proved unsatisfactory venting, I turned my thoughts to the future in hope of distracting myself from my black mood.

The first step of any planning had to be: What did I want?

To go home? Oh God, yes!

But the second step of planning requires a means and I didn't have even the first inklings of how I'd come to be here or if there was anything to return to. For now – for now and until I had something to work with – it was as impossible a dream as being here would have seemed the last time I slept. So there was a little hope at least I thought, unable to restrain one bitter chuckle.

Alright then. Let's aim a little lower. For good to triumph and truth and justice hold sway? Uh... well, tempting I'll admit but there were two fairly salient points that obstructed it. In primus: Aang, Zuko and the rest of their not so merry band managed it well enough without my sticking my oar in. And secundus: I wasn't exactly on their side as things stood. Much the reversed. Now that might be correctable – Zuko managed to turn his coat after all. All I'd have to do was betray Azula in more or less cold blood.

Given what she wound up like after her father brushed off, that would be... Azula's ultimate fate in the show flickered through my mind. Chained on her knees, screaming insanely as her brother left her behind. So reduced that she wasn't even accorded a moment's attention in the epilogue.

Oh goddammit. I hate having a conscience. It's all my parent's fault.

Okay. Assuming for the moment that everything else will work out okay, set myself a goal of keeping Azula more or less sane by the end of all this. Means? Well, putting her first would help. She seems to need someone to lean on and having lost her friends/minions Ty Lee and Mai, then being left behind by Ozai she'd been coming apart at the seams. By the time that Zuko demonstrated that he did have someone – a former enemy like Katara in fact – willing to stand by him she'd been left completely alone.

So being there for her. Which means surviving and means helping her. Which means I'm going to be wearing a black hat, figuratively speaking. I'm gonna get my ass kicked. Repeatedly. And that'll just be Azula getting me up to speed for Liao's firebending, which she'll probably expect to reach a level well above what most would call mastery. Actually getting into a fight with Zuko, Katara or Toph would probably be even worse. And let's not forget the elder generation.

Alright. So I need an edge. Several edges. And a gimmick or two. Well, I've read enough Island on a Sea of Time stories – including the actual book of that title – to have a few ideas. Of course, it would take research and I didn't have a lot of time before I was off on a sea voyage. Pulling myself to my feet I walked to the nearest window, from which the curtains had at some point been drawn back.

Azula's rooms were high up. I hadn't noticed before, the breakfast room looking deeper into the palace, but from this window I could look out across the palace and past scores of other mansions and estates to the edge of the crater that housed the exclusive districts of the city. The industrial regions, of course, were further down the mountain, filling what I guessed had once been open country between the centre of government and the massive port. Not that it mattered right now.

Judging from the position of the sun, it was still well short of noon and Azula had advised that we would depart for the port around mid-afternoon. So I was on a short time-frame and I'd have to be packed and ready to go by then...

I slapped my forehead. No. I didn't have to pack. One clap of my hands had a young woman – a significant majority of Azula's servants were female – standing in the doorway, eyes fixed deferentially on the floor. "Were my clothes and equipment brought here from the Earth Kingdom?" I asked her.

"Only a few items," she said, not looking up as she turned to one of the dressers and opened it to reveal what I recognised as Liao's armour and a heavy looking mace with a cylindrical head – a Ba Chui, his memories supplied. "Princess Azula also ordered clothes prepared for you."

"Very good. Please ensure that it is packed and prepared for travel." I suspected that it would have been done whether I ordered it or not, but it wasn't a risk that I was prepared to take. Jamming my feet back into my boots only took a moment, but I then had to wait until the servant tied them – not that I'd have minded a simple and sloppy knot of my own doing, but the cursed woman didn't ask my permission.

Unless matters had changed since I – Liao – was last in the palace, there was a sizeable reference library in the Royal Palace in addition to whatever private collections might have been assembled by occupants past and present. That was a simple necessity – at any given time the Fire Lord and his councillors might need to know almost anything to help them draw up their plans for military action. And War Minister Qin - an unapologetic admirer of all manner of inventions – didn't like having to bring technical information all the way from his own offices at near the port. There wouldn't be important military secrets there of course, but that wasn't what I wanted.