“Welcome, and thanks for your kind wishes, Lord Hei,” Tez’ Mu sighed, as he bowed yet another Scith judge into the manor. This was the part he had been dreading, meeting and greeting his father’s peers. Contrary to his expectations, however, all the judges had been civil so far. Perhaps they were starving.

“It’s General Ai,” Sari turned to whisper in Tez’ Mu’s ear as a horse galloped up the drive. Tez’ Mu did not respond. Of course he knew who it was. That smirking, sharp-faced predator haunted his worst memories. Kai’ Ai had bullied Tez’ Mu since childhood, during the time he was the Mu brothers’ sword-master. Worse still, he was among those who had tormented Tez’ Mu the most when Raq’ Mu forced him to apologize to the generals.

The man swung down from his horse with an effortless grace, handing over the reins to a stable boy. He stalked up the drive, boots striking the stone with a confident, almost arrogant rhythm, as if the very ground belonged to him. He completely ignored Tez’ Mu.

“The House of Mu welcomes you!” Tez’ Mu called after him cynically, a hard edge to his voice. Kai’ Ai paused, shook his head, and turned around.

“Tezihoyi the rascal?” His ape-like face, to Tez’ Mu, was even more infuriating than he had remembered. “I didn’t see you there. Are your cultivation issues now affecting your presence too?” He let out a smug chuckle.

“I think you’re the blind one,” Tez’ Mu shot back. Kai’ Ai’s sneer disappeared.

“Careful, young lord,” he growled, and then strode into the manor.

Tez’ Mu did not realize he was clenching his fists until Sari reached out to relax them.

“Look, it’s the Ru carriage,” he said.

“Where?” Tez’ Mu whipped his head around, all thoughts of Kai’ Ai’s sneer gone from his mind. Sure enough, there it was, and two young women descended from it, still chuckling to something they must have been discussing.

The taller one wore an elegant off-shoulder narkkir, the yellow fabric draping over her frame in pleated waves. Silver bracelets adorned her long, dark arms, chiming softly as she gestured—but Tez’ Mu was not fooled. Her muscles tensed even as she gestured, and the hand with which she gripped the shoulder of the younger girl was that of an expert sword maiden.

But Tez’ Mu did not stare at her for too long. His gaze locked onto Keiran’ Ru’s deep brown eyes—rich as aged wood, yet guarded. She held his stare for only a moment before looking away, gathering her narkkir around herself as she walked forward.

Tez’ Mu inhaled deeply, steadying the slight tremor in his chest before exhaling through his nose. Don’t mess this up, don’t mess this up, he chanted in his mind, even as his fingers curled involuntarily at his sides. The girls were paces away now. He shuffled on the spot, breathing deeply.

“Our hearty congratulations to lady Royan’ Mu,” the taller woman said when they came to a halt in front of the gates, with a polite incline of her head. Tez’ Mu bowed slightly.

“Thank you for honoring us with your presence,” he managed a small smile in Keiran’ Ru’s direction. She did not return it, only nodding once and following after the older girl. The gates closed behind them.

“Who’s that?” Tez’ Mu growled to Sari.

“The young lady with Keiran’ kel?” Sari had a trace of uncertainty in his voice. “That should be Lieutenant Sayi’ Ru. She’s lady Keiran’s cousin, I suppose.”

“You suppose?” Tez’ Mu was venting on Sari now, tapping his feet impatiently. “Shouldn’t you know all of them?”

It had to be because of her. Sayi’ Ru was right beside Keiran’, so the girl wouldn’t—couldn’t—acknowledge him with her cousin watching. Tez’ Mu’s fingers curled, heat rising in his chest.

Sari did not take offense, only stepping forward a little so Tez’ Mu could see his face.

“You should talk to lady Keiran’ during the ceremony. I’ll help you distract the lieutenant.”

Tez’ Mu shrugged, working his jaw.

“Why should I talk to her? If we’re betrothed then we are. Once sister Royan’ is out of the manor, mother will place all her attention on me next. Before I know it, I’ll be married to her.”

“That is not a good idea,” Sari murmured worriedly.

“Why not?” Tez’ Mu was distracted, “Good, here comes the He carriage. Ancestors be dammed, I’m starving,” he swore under his breath.

A squire opened the carriage door and a handsome youth stepped out. Dark-skinned and striking, Jun’ He was handsome in a quiet, unassuming way—his features smooth and even, lacking the hard edges that made warriors imposing. His high forehead was framed by wispy strands of black hair, the color matching his deep eyes. Draped over his left arm was a heavy black bei robe embroidered with pale river lilies; a contrast to the deep green tunic he wore, the silk detailed with delicate patterns of silver-threaded reeds.

Tez’ Mu smiled when their eyes met. He was glad Jun’ He had been allowed to attend the party at all; his uncle rarely let him out of their estate, keeping him locked away under the guise of discipline. It had always been an odd sight—the gentle, cool-headed heir raised beneath the shadow of a man who commanded armies with an iron hand.

Jun’ He turned back towards the carriage and stood deferentially next to the stately lord that came out after him. The man rose to his full height, his body built like a fortress, with a face hardened by years of war. His ironwood-brown hair, so dark it was nearly black, was tied back, revealing a scar slashing across his brow. There was no sign of silver at his temples, though the hard lines of his face told a tale of age. His dark gold eyes swept over the manor grounds, his mouth set in a line that had long forgotten how to soften.

Tez’ Mu swallowed hard; his throat was dry, his palms damp with cold sweat. This was the highest ranked guest he would have to greet on behalf of his father so far: Lord General Jizu’ He of the He fief, the fourth great general of Ochelon!

Tez’ Mu felt a lot of pressure from just looking at him.

“Is it too late to send for Raq’ Mu?” He muttered to Sari out of the corner of his mouth, “I don’t think I can handle this!”

“Its fine, ke,” Sari murmured back, “You’ve got this,” he reached out and gave Tez’ Mu a gentle nudge in his back. Tez’ Mu took the hint and strode forward, pacing his breathing.

“My lord general,” Tez’ Mu clenched his left hand into a fist and put it over his right breast, lowering his head as he bowed formally to Jizu’ He, who raised his eyebrows.

“This is Tez’ Mu, uncle,” Jun’ He introduced him in a low voice. Jizu’ He nodded, and reached out to lift Tez’ Mu up, his grip closing around Tez’ Mu’s arm with an iron-like steadiness.

He then reached out with practiced ease, plucking the heavy robe from his nephew’s arm and sweeping it over his shoulders in a single, fluid motion. Tez’ Mu noticed the He fief insignia, a small red hawk circling a sword, embroidered on the chest pocket of his kasa.

“I had assumed you were older. Of age,” the general said, his tone surprised, “You are the one who dueled at Mirin?”

Tez’ Mu shook his head. “No, my lord. That must have been my elder brother,” he replied.

“So where is he?” Jizu’ He frowned, “Why are you the one here receiving me when you have an older brother?”

“Older brothers,” Tez’ Mu corrected, “they are two: Riel’ Mu and Rian’ Mu. They are not in Ochelon. They both left a while ago to roam the continent.”

“Oh,” Jizu’ He chuckled, a dry, almost bemused sound. “That’s not what you’d expect from a Mu.” His lips curled, “I suppose Raq’ wasn’t pleased.”

He wasn’t, Tez’ Mu wanted to say, but Jizu’ He was done with the conversation. Without another word, he crossed the landing and entered the manor. His nephew hurried after him, shooting a swift, apologetic look over his shoulder. Tez’ Mu suddenly pitied his friend. Even he, who was raised by one of the most fearsome men in Ochelon, felt a lot of pressure from speaking with the fourth great-general.

“You did well,” Sari’s voice cut through Tez’ Mu’s spiraling thoughts.

“I didn’t even say the House of Mu welcomes you,” he sighed.

“You didn’t have to.” Sari comforted him, “Just go along with the situation. Even The Hundred Maxims of Courtly Conduct says, ’Adaptability is the heart of diplomacy’.”

Tez’ Mu snorted, “Oh please,” He rolled his eyes—so like Sari to quote verbatim from some forgotten book of etiquette.

Hooves clattered against the stone path then, and five horses charged into view, their riders’ laughter ringing through the cool morning air like a warning bell. At the front rode two figures, their red and lilac curls wind-tossed and wild, their bulky frames wrapped in fluttering traveling cloaks the same green shade of the other three. Tez’ Mu froze, a sinking feeling settling in his gut at the familiar sight.

“Is it my eyes deceiving me, Sari,” he said quickly, “Or are those two at the head of that party the infamous incorrigible twins?”

Sari’s lips twitched. “I wouldn’t dare to refer to the young lords like that but, yes, that’s them for sure.”

One of the riders feinted toward Tez’ Mu as if to knock him over. He flinched and jumped aside, barely avoiding the stallion’s shoulder. The riders burst into loud guffaws, circling him and his servant, unsheathing their swords and swinging their lances as if they had caught some helpless prey.

Tez’ Mu swore.

“Easy on the profanities, youngling,” the rider who’d charged him swung down from his horse and reached out, catching Tez’ Mu in a choke-hold under his arm and furiously ruffling his hair.

Tez’ Mu gagged, cursing a storm as he struggled against his brother’s grip.

“Hey!” Another rider, identical to the first, dismounted and sauntered over, “He’s been picking up bad habits from those lowborn friends of his then, you reckon?” and he gave Tez’ Mu a knock on the head with the hilt of his sword.

“Let me—go—-you damn—!” With a fierce tug, Tez’ Mu broke free, coughing as he braced his hands on his knees. Then, quickly, he smoothed down his hair. “I’m welcoming guests here, you know!”

“Ha! He’s welcoming guests! Did you hear that, Rian’?” The first chortled.

“Sure did. Our little Tez’ is all grown up now. Look at him in his tudan!” The second grinned, wagging a teasing finger in Tez’ Mu’s face.

Tez’ Mu saw red. “Stop it! Can you both be serious for once!?”

“Who’s being unserious?” The first twin, Riel’ Mu snorted as he handed the reins of his horse to the bright eyed almost gushing stable boy who’d run up to him, “Take care of her well! That’s a prize stallion right there.”

“Yes milord!” the boy bowed and bowed again, then took off with the horse, grinning as if all his wishes had been granted.

Tez’ Mu gritted his teeth. What was the big deal? The servants never treated him like that.

“Well, since you’re here, you can greet the guests,” he crossed his arms over his chest.

The two older Mu brothers raised their eyebrows.

“Greet the guests? Are you intoxicated, Tez’?” Riel’ Mu stepped forward, and Tez’ Mu instinctively took three steps back. “Are your eyes working well? Look at us! What are we?” He gestured to himself and those with him. Tez’ Mu pursed his lips.

Riel’ Mu glanced over his shoulder.

“What are we, men?”

“Guests!” his twin brother and the other three chorused promptly, smirking with glee.

“Heard that, little pest? We’re guests! Raq’ Mu’s guests, no less!” He spread his arms wide, “Adventurers from the Southern Wastes come to pay their respects. Go on, greet us properly!” He chuckled.

“Enough of this,” Tez’ Mu scowled, “If you’re not taking over, get inside and out of my sight.”

“Whoa,” Rian’ Mu raised his eyebrows, starting forward, but Riel’ Mu stopped him with a hand to his chest. Then he advanced on Tez’ Mu in the blink of an eye, catching him effortlessly with one hand on the back of his neck.

Tez’ Mu gulped. He hadn’t even seen him move.

“When were you born, pest?” Riel’ Mu growled close to Tez’ Mu’s ear. Tez’ Mu frowned as he tried to step back, but found out, to his horror, that he had been rooted to the spot.

“Answer me!”

Not wanting to prolong the scene for fear that other guests might arrive soon, Tez’ Mu sighed as he rolled his eyes, spitting through his gritted teeth, “1705!”

“That’s right, you unlearned pest. I was already of age by the time that furry ass of yours was weaned. You must have grown some peacock feathers during the time your elder brother and I weren’t around, stomping around with your Ke of the House of Mu title, but don’t do it to my face. Got it?”

“Ugh! Fine!”

Riel’ Mu sneered and gave a seemingly harmless tap to the side of Tez’ Mu’s face. A second later, a sharp pulse shot through his ear—it rang, then went utterly silent.

“Deal with that,” Riel’ Mu chuckled. Tez’ Mu clenched his jaw, fisting his hand and about to bring it to crash against his brother’s nose, but Riel’ Mu had released him, and flitted back to his twin and his men.

“The House of Mu, men,” he said with a sweep of his arms towards the manor, to the admiring tittering of the men. They laughed, nudging each other forward as stable boys led away their horses. Boots thudded up the stone steps, their chatter echoing through the grand entrance.