Author's Note: Ugh, why do I always forget to add the A/N's AFTER uploading chapters? Anyway, sorry if the story's dragging on, but I''ll try to wrap it up in a few chapters.

Chapter Seventeen: The Four Emperors and the One Prince

For the final battles, Lanfan's mother had insisted on her wearing a nice dress. Lanfan was past arguing, she figured she could go out with a pretty face. If, or when she died, one of the auxiliary branches would hold the heir.

"I am leaving for the arena, Mother," she called, making her way into the family room. Her mother was kneeling on the floor, rifling through a box of items.

"Look, Lanfan," her mother cooed. Lanfan sat with her. Her mother was holding a small china doll, its pristine face grayed with age and its dark hair in shambles. The thing she loved most about the doll was its carnation silk dress. "It's your dear Luli. You used to hold her, brush her hair…."

"I stopped playing with her when Grandfather started training me," Lanfan murmured. The doll's painted red mouth smiled up at her through the grime.

"Yes. I remember you'd never go to sleep without Luli and a bedtime tale."

Lanfan hugged her mother. "I must get going. I will see you this afternoon."

"All right." She continued to go through the items.

"…Mother?"

"Yes?"

Lanfan smiled at her mother, for maybe the last time. "I love you."

Her mother smiled right back, the skin around her eyes crinkling up. "I love you too, Child."

Lanfan left the house, taking a carriage to the imperial palace.

Sou grinned as he gently took her hand. Lanfan didn't get courting at all. It was as if the male had to treat you like you were injured or terminally ill. He shook his bangs out of his face. "Milady. We're early, so we have the stands to ourselves." He gestured to the courtyard. "The reason my family is so welcome in this arena is because we designed the statues for the late empress. With alkahestry, of course."

She smiled. "Very interesting, My Lord." He led her to their observation deck. "Listen, I must tell you something."

He laughed. "Let me guess, there's some imperial conspiracy taking place today, and you must sacrifice your life in order for it to be stopped."

She chuckled awkwardly. "You're such a joker…."

He sat down. "So what is it?"

She sighed. Fumbling under her skirt, she found her kunai holster. She held out the knife he'd thrown into the courtyard that one day. She kissed him on the cheek. "Love is useless if it's never returned."

He took it, running his fingers over it a few times before tucking it into his robes. "Thank you, Lanfan." The two sat in pleasant silence for a while, his hand in hers.

The door burst open, Ling charging in. "Lanfan! I can't find my sword!"

Lanfan rolled her eyes. "Young Master, it's on your back."

He slapped his hand to his forehead. "That's right! Sorry! I'll just go." He inched his way out, giving Lanfan a half-hearted thumbs-up before shutting the door.

She shook her head, smiling ruefully. "Sometimes I can't fathom his whimsy."

Sou returned the smile. "I don't think his visit here was due to any whimsical tendencies. He's probably nervous."

Lanfan bit her lip. "Or lonely."

He patted her hand. "Go."

She grinned, picking up her skirts and heading through the complex winding of hallways, finally finding the Yao room. Most of the officials have gone off to suck-up to other clans, leaving the room empty except for Ling and his advisor, who was too stressed to notice her arrival.

"Hi!" Ling swung down from the ceiling, suspended from one of the support beams.

She bowed. "Young Master." She cursed herself for jumping a little bit in surprise upon Ling's sneaking up on her. Her grandfather was right. She was too soft, too weak. She glanced up at the prince. "I'm not sure how structurally safe that is."

He dropped down from the beam, hitting the ground with a decisive thump. "What brings you around these parts?"

She sat down, smoothing her skirt. "I just wanted to keep you company."

Ling kneaded his temples. "I couldn't sleep at all last night after your little visit."

Lanfan's naturally-arched eyebrows shot up. "I am truly sorry, Young Master."

He waved away her apology. "It's fine. It's just that I've never fought when I was so nervous. I don't know if you've noticed this, but I'm usually very laid back."

She nodded, rolling her eyes. "Amazingly so." She thought back to the previous conversation she had with her mother. "You know, my mother's stories always used to relax me."

Ling barked out a laugh. "You, relaxed? The last time you were relaxed you fell of a cliff!"

Her cheeks burned red with shame. "Anyway, the one story I always adored was the Tale of the Four Emperors. It's nice to fantasize that Xing was once a nation of peace, as opposed to our current state of borderline turmoil."

The prince grinned at his guard. "Do go on, Lanfan."

"In a distant time and place, there were the four emperors. But first, they were the four princes: Huang, Lei, Bojing, and Junjie. All four were powerful, but very watchful over Junjie, the most carefree and seemingly idiotic ruler." She threw Ling a pointed glance, but continued. "Lei was the caring and compassionate one, while Bojing was very strong, yet gentle like the waves he was named for. Huang, like his name, was very princely. He had worked hard for his clan. He was but a child, and he wanted to prove his worth. He was not the only one. Junjie was ridiculed even more than Huang, to the point that he could not cry anymore."

Ling dropped his sword, entranced by Lanfan's story. Never before had she seemed so content and calm, the words flowing from her lips as naturally as water from a stream.

"There were only ten clans then, but all of them wanted to be the main clan, the one whose heir held the throne." Lanfan's eyes were in a far-off place, dulled with nostalgia as she remembered her mother's prose. "Junjie was always my favorite and least favorite character. He may have been a bit simple-minded, but he saw the fine line between right and wrong, between justice for your clan and pure inhumanity. He needed to put the fighting to a stop. He just wanted everyone to be happy. He didn't want to kill his half-brothers, as the clan was pressuring to do.

So he created a solution everyone agreed on. He, Huang, Lei, and Bojing would rule Xing. Four emperors would reign over Xing, and every four years…."

Just then, Ling's chancellor, who they didn't notice leave, burst through the door. "Prince! We must prepare you for the battle!" He glared at Lanfan. "The help should step out."

Ling frowned. "Don't be mean to Lanfan."

Lanfan shook her head, embarrassed by her employer's acknowledgement. "It's okay, Ling. We'll finish the story later. Let's just say, Junjie taught all of Xing something to do with right-and-wrong, and family."

Ling's eyes widened at her usage of his true name, but not to her liking. She thought it would humor him, but instead he looked like she has just screamed at him in fluent Drachman.

She excused herself before the advisor could chastise her informal language. In her haste to get away she crashed into a rather tall individual. He smiled down at her, a scar slashed across his face. It certainly didn't take away from his attractiveness, which brought a blush to Lanfan's face. Lanfan deduced it was from a blade, probably a katana.

"You'd better watch yourself, Miss," he said. She didn't know whether to be flustered or wary by his warning, his voice seemingly familiar.

"I will, er, Prince?" It was easier to identify someone's status in Central, by their uniform, badges, or lack thereof.

He bowed, much to her surprise. "Prince Nianzu Guowei, the 49th son of the emperor." To compensate for her faux-pas, she bowed even lower. She remembered him. He was the one who'd practically slaughtered the 50th contestant. She'd need to keep an eye on this one.

"I am sorry for my misstep, Prince." She bowed again.

He laughed. "It's quite fine. Many people seem to overlook me." His tone was bitter.

She felt awkward in the hallway, being pushed around by bustling workers. Nianzu had no such qualms. The servants seemed to sense his regal presence, never once touching him. "Well, thank you. I must be going now."

Nianzu nodded, turning to go. A very nervous man approached him, his skinny hands quivering like twigs in the wind. "Prince!"

Nianzu's eyes darkened. "You're late."

The man bowed so deep his hat touched the floor. "My apologies, Prince."

Lanfan froze in place. That's who she heard the previous night.

That's who was going to attempt to kill-then-save the emperor.

Author's Note: Before you go all picky and say, "Hey! Katanas are Japanese!" Hiromu Arakawa designed Xing to be a hybrid of both China and Japan. That's where the ninjas come from, LOL. Reviews are love!