It was night when the emissaries arrived.

The calls of nightingales seeped in through the trees, bringing with them the soft fragrances of the stirring brewery and higan trees. And amidst its flowers sat Asael, a children’s reading book in hand and a soft robe draped along the other. Both gifts from Lilia.      

And beside him sat Ara, in her arms a basket of dried blossoms. Of chamomile, apple blossom and higan. As the clouds dispersed and the sleepy streets glimmered under starlight, she carefully peeled away its sepals and placed them in a smaller basket beside her.

Asael flipped through the pages, and every so often looked up weaving broken sentences in clumsy conversation. 

Yet Ara  was quite happy of his progress clapped merrily, “ My knowledge of language is second only to Sarel, it’s just that he’s lived in Drugar before. But if you have any difficulties I will teach you”

Asael accepted her instructions gratefully. 

In this way they sat in peaceful silence until a noise broke apart from the perfumery. 

Through the closed windows and the fastened doors, the lights of the opal braziers flickered. Hurrying shadows slipped past the courtyard walls, followed by a set of stuttering footfalls. 

A small shadow darted through one of the windows and fell into the roses below. The child lifted her head,  and through the darkness, taking no notice of her bruised hands she ran towards Ara and Asael. 

“ What is wrong?” Asael whispered, patting her hair affectionately. She tucked behind him, clasping onto the pleats of his jade outer robes. 

“ Did another pervert get in?” Setting the baskets aside, Ara looked behind them. Yet the sounds of screaming and of swinging batons were unfound. Instead the leaving guests of the eatery next door, and the passersby of the streets paused, peering over the perfumery wall, whispering curiously amongst themselves.

Confused, they looked at each other. Ara lifted the weeping child to her arms and held Asael’s hand with the other. From a distance the sounds of quarrelling voices poured into the garden. 

As Ara pushed the courtyard door open, it’s hold was wrenched out of her hand. It was not Lilia, or the kitchen aunt, nor Sarel or another. Before them in unfamiliar gait stood a looming figure. Clad in the royal guard uniform, he stared down with a terrible gaze. 

Unable to hold the guard’s eyes, Asael’s gaze flicked past him. In the courtyard, pressed to the ground and kneeling sat the numerous disciples and workers of the perfumery. Yet Lady Lilia and Sarel were not among them. Had his identity finally been revealed? Had he brought calamity upon those who had sheltered him?

The blue bird peeked through his robes, it’s small presence was reassuring. No. . . it could not be, Serein would not sit by idly if that was the case.

And in the moment he was frozen in fear, Ara gripped his hand and pushed him behind her. He yelped in pain, Then stumbling over the bushes and clashing into the braziers Ara ran towards the kitchens.

“ Over there halt!” 

The guard’s voice bellowed. And fastly on metal feet he chased them. Ara helped Asael over a row of roses and the three broke in through the kitchen door. Yet at once a terrible pain tore though Asael’s shoulder. The solider that had run after them had caught up, and he and Ara were tackled to the ground.

“ Do not wound the entertainers! They must be taken to the palace soon!”

Someone called behind them, but Asael’s vision had gone white in pain. 

Ara looked at Asael, who in his confusion did not seem to be anything but terrified. The kitchen was empty, it’s doors and windows open ajar. It was certain the guard’s had looked through each and every crevice in search of something. Yet to her it seemed to have been done out of malice. 

Entertainers? What entertainers?  

She had hoped that kitchen aunt would come to their rescue, but the old lady was nowhere to be seen. She swallowed her gathering tears thickly. Why were the imperial guards looking for entertainers in the border city? Were there not many a precious entertainers in the imperial city?

And most importantly, where was Lady Lilia?

A day had passed since the parade of blessings, in the quiet night when the tumult of festivities had faded, the peaceful perfumery fell into disarray.


Ara and Asael were dragged away from the kitchens into the middle courtyard and was roughly thrown into a pile of kneeling disciples. 

“ The royal palace of Ahsara has requested a number of entertainers and dancers for the flower banquet at the discretion of the deputy minister of rituals!” 

Ara heard the muffled commands of the guards.

Conversation was alight the perfumery grounds. Entertainers and dancers? If it was an arrogant noble or perhaps a foreign merchant that had mistaken the establishment it would be easy to refuse without much trouble. But the royal palace? How was it possible for lady Lilia to refuse divine blood?

“ Minister I am afraid I cannot heed this request” A moment later came Lilia’s response. 

A metal foot dragged across the swept soil. And swiftly the heavy hilt of a blade fell upon her red gossamer shoulder, “ You dare disobey a royal order ?!”

Lilia’s shook her head vehemently, “ This is a perfumery not a house of entertainment, it would be irreverent to send these untrained children to the palace in place of proper entertainers. We dare not sir”

“ Oho!” A voice bellowed over the kneeling minstrels. And through the front door appeared an odd faced man. With greying hair neatly swept back into a thick knot at the top of his head, and dressed in a barren bronze brocade stood Borun.

By bringing the news of the empire’s heir visiting a highly known brothel he had once again stepped forth into the pedestal and was now the proud deputy minister of rituals. Although he much preferred to be referred to as the minister. And trampled anyone who dared call him otherwise. 

Though it was a meagre position for all concerned, only during a royal betrothal did its importance come to light. And among all those incompetent fools  it was he who was worthy of standing in this position. Surely. . . surely. 

The arrival of Lucen Drugares has been nothing short of a grandiose disappointment. The moment his foot touched Ahsara he had run away to a brothel and then promptly disappeared. The poor prince Nevernrya who tearfully awaited at the palace gates had been left abandoned.

Was it not apparent that sticking to royalty would not gain him any favours with the empire? It was now time to pave his own path. If he must stick to a whore’s leg to gain favour then he shall do so!

Just then two figures were escorted to the front gardens. There was a patch of red blossoming on Asael’s jade robes, and the little child that had been atop Ara’s arms cried pitifully as she was thrown away. 

As they were thrown to the grounds, Asael felt something crack.

“ Worry not Lady Lilia!” Borun called mirthfully, then he walked around the garden, “ This minister shall make an apt selection of talents” 

Asael’s vision went white with pain. He was certain his shoulder had just snapped. For a moment he could only hear the sounds of a child’s cries and the terrifying calls of nightingales in a garden that has fallen silent.

“ I shall make a fine selection indeed” Borun twirled his moustache. The smile of a victor had fallen upon his shrivelling face, and his eyes were lost in a great reverie, of a thousand years of prosperity and power. 

Trembling Ara clasped Asael’s hands. And as his eyes opened, they fell upon a greedy gaze across the courtyard.