Sein’s life in the village of Sagyo became a routine until the growing season, when Maiah’s father-in-law, Ungyi, came to live with them. He spent most of the year with his eldest son’s family in the village of Yamayo. His youngest son was married to Maiah who died shortly after Chit was seven. Ungyi continued to maintain a close connection with his daughter-in-law and his grandchildren.

Every year, during his time in Sagyo, Ungyi took the barren patch of soil in front of Maiah’s house and with determination and skilful hands, transformed it into a thriving vegetable garden. Marrows and bitter gourds were his speciality and they seemed to grow with vigour by his command, as if he’d unlocked some secret language of the plants.

Despite his old age, Ungyi was youthful in energy and presence. He often found amusement and delight in every day things. He spent most of his time with Chit, out in the garden. And seeing a new addition to the household, he encouraged Sein to join them.

Now with adequate rain, the pond which Sein attempted to revitalise with buckets of water was back to normal levels. Sein watched Bhell with curiosity. Above the water, the duck glided with grace that seemed effortless, yet beneath the surface, his webbed feet churned in a frenzy to keep him moving. Was she not the same, outwardly composed while secretly battling the currents beneath?

“Grandpa, will you help me finish making a nest for Bhell?” Chit asked, tugging his hand.

“I will, but ducks prefer to nest in places where there are tall grass. Somewhere a bit more sheltered. Perhaps over there is better, Chit,” Ungyi pointed to a raised corner near the pond. “The nest needs soft materials too. Maybe some feathers if we find any on the ground from the crows.”

“Sein, will you help us too?” Chit asked.

Sein nodded, as an idea formed in her mind. Using her cloth power, she shredded an old rag from the kitchen, into little pieces and added it to the nest. 

“Excellent idea, Sein. The nest is looking very comfy. Now it’s a matter of Bhell finding a mate,” Ungyi said with a thoughtful look. “He is a fine duck. Look at his beautiful feathers. That will help with his courtship dance.” 

“I can’t wait for the little ducklings,” Chit cried out, skipping around the pond in delight.

“Well Chit, you are forgetting the cow when going out to plough,” Ungyi remarked which made both Chit and Sein glance his way with puzzled expressions. 

He chuckled and explained, “You are forgetting the most important thing, which is Bhell must find a mate first. When he does, then you can celebrate.” 

“Oh… how long will it take for Bhell to find a mate?” Chit asked, her posture signalling her disappointment.

“Let nature take its course. A ripe durian will fall by itself. You must be patient,” Ungyi said, shading his face from the sun with one hand. His face brightened and he pointed out, “Look at the butterfly, Chit. Magical creatures.”

“I’m gonna catch it,” Chit said, running and jumping after it. The butterfly effortlessly flitted away, flashing its blue and black wings.

“Do not try to catch it,” Ungyi remarked. “The more you chase a thing of beauty, the more it will elude you. Here, hold this flower and stand still. Try to tempt the butterfly to come to you instead.” 

He gave her a yellow flower pulled from a clump of weeds. Then he giggled mischievously and said to Sein, “I wonder how long Chit will last standing still. You time her, while I make some tea.”

One morning Sein found Ungyi digging the soil in the front garden, his spade biting into the compacted soil with deliberate effort. The earth resisted but Ungyi continued to persist, his bald head gleaming with perspiration as he turned the soil, carefully mixing in fertiliser. 

After completing her morning routine, Sein offered her help, knowing she was far stronger and faster than Ungyi. Yet, her pace was often slowed by Ungyi’s nostalgic stories of his childhood. Sein couldn't help but marvel at the stark contrast between his rural childhood and her world of growing up within the palace compound.

“When I was a boy, we spent most of the time outdoors roaming the fields and playing in the woods. It was an adventure every day if you have good imagination,” Ungyi chuckled. “We were very mischievous as children.”

“How about your sisters? Were they allowed to roam about too?” Sein asked.

“Yes. Just because they were girls did not mean they could not do what I did. My parents were very fair. They treated us all equally.” 

This was another surprise to Sein. She had never been treated like her brothers, who were encouraged to pursue the family tradition of becoming warriors and improving their minds. In contrast, she was seen more as a burden than an asset. 

She recalled overhearing her mother boast to a friend, ‘I only have to worry about one daughter. At least I have three warrior sons. We are very privileged indeed.’ 

But her friend remarked, ‘An unmarried woman is not honoured, even if she has ten brothers. You must find your daughter a husband.’

Sein continued to dig in silence, venting some of her frustrations of being made to feel less worthy than a lord. How would life have been different if she was a village girl born into a family such as Maiah’s, to grow up feeling valued and appreciated? But isn’t the blossoms always brighter in another's garden? She had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that rural life was far from perfect. Even so, the people were more genuine, happier, and much easier to get along with than any lord or lady she’d met.

After thoroughly turning the soil and running out of anger that was fuelling her, Sein asked, “Is the soil good enough?”

“Yes, it is soily enough. You have a lot of energy and strength, Sein,” Ungyi grinned. “Now before we plant, here is where it gets interesting. I say a little prayer to Spirit of Harvest.” 

He mumbled something under his breath. 

“This is to guarantee a successful yield. Why leave it to chance? Now, we can plant.” 

Sein simply smiled.

After all the marrow seedlings were in the soil, Ungyi declared, “We have worked pretty hard. You are a great help, Sein. Let us tidy up the edges and pull out those weeds over there. But mind that one.” 

Ungyi wiped his bald head with a handkerchief. “This little plot will rival the royal palace’s own gardens.” 

The mention of this whisked Sein back to her very first visit inside the palace vegetable grounds, where the scents and sights seemed to spring to life once more.

***

“I had no idea the palace grew so much food.” 

Sein was amazed at the size and scale of the produce grown at the palace. When Zeya said he’d take her to the vegetable patch so she could look for herbs, she didn't imagine that the patch he referred to, was actually the size of several training grounds.

“All this has been hidden behind those walls I never thought to look,” Sein said. “I wonder what’s grown here.”

“I’ve been reliably informed by Saw Win, who is well acquainted with many of the ladies in the kitchen that we grow just about everything we consume at the palace. The herb section you seek is along the garden borders. Look, just over there.”

“Let’s head there first. But I’d like a chance to have a good look around the whole place,” Sein said, full of enthusiasm. 

She bent just enough to gather up the silk train flowing behind her skirt to avoid soiling it.

“May I?” Zeya stepped forward, inclining his head slightly and offering to carry her train. 

Sein felt his hand gently lift the delicate fabric, careful and respectful, and draped it over his outstretched forearm. A slight thrill stirred within her at this unexpected gesture. Zeya had an uncanny ability to act in ways she could never predict, catching her off guard while also bringing her great delight. But she was determined to keep her true feelings carefully veiled, a secret even from herself at times.

“Are you hunting down that charming little herb with the ominous black berries? The ones we assume poisoned Prince Amptu?” Zeya asked.

“No, I’m on a different mission,” Sein responded. “I read in the scrolls that herbs were once used to prepare the mind and body before battle.” 

Zeya looked a little sceptical and enquired, “I'm curious to know, how were they actually made use of?”

“Certain herbs are used to calm the mind, you know, to give one focus and clarity. Others support the body, boosting stamina and strength, while some are essential for recovery and healing. And of course, there are others that are… um… somewhat… like an aphrodisiac.”

“I see,” Zeya raised an eyebrow. 

His hand twisted the silk fabric of her train, playing with it absentmindedly. 

“And is that what you’re seeking?”

“No, not for that,” Sein replied, a little mortified. “I’m curious to see what is grown here. If I can find the right herbs, I’d like to make a balm to help you with recovery after training.”

Though her genuine care towards him stirred something deep within Zeya, he chose to mask his emotions. With a playful smirk, he quipped, “Dare I ask, was it me you were thinking about, or merely my body?”

Sein couldn’t think of a clever retort, so she brushed off his teasing with one of her stern looks. The irony wasn’t lost on her. He was always on her mind. And now, as her gaze flickered over him, she couldn’t help but notice the fine physique beneath his elegantly draped jacket. 

Quickly averting her eyes away, she said casually, “I know you train very hard. I’ve trained with Thura before so I know how brutal he must work you. You must be aching all over.”

“I’m used to it to be honest,” Zeya said, stretching out his free arm instinctively. “I had no idea Lord Thura trained you.”

“It’s nothing,” Sein tried to dismiss it. “Just a bit of fun.”

“Truly, I’m impressed if you’ve been following any of your brother’s training regime,” Zeya said with sincerity. “I approve entirely. You’re quite extraordinary.” 

Unsure how to react, Sein stayed quiet, but the bright smile she couldn’t quite contain said enough.

They continued to walk at a leisurely pace to the far end of the garden, meandering on the well maintained grass, rather than keeping to the path. Sein paused occasionally to admire the ripe red tomatoes and the striking dark purple aubergines hanging in clusters. Then, her eyes caught sight of a row of mango trees, just beyond a low-lying hedge. Though the fruits were still small and green, she couldn't resist the urge to see the trees up close. 

“Can we go there?” Sein asked, with eager eyes directing at the trees. “I do love mangoes.”

“You may go wherever you please. I shall follow.” 

Zeya walked a few paces behind Sein, still holding onto her train. 

“When the season peaks, I’ll see to it that the finest mangoes are reserved for you.”

Sein glanced back at him, catching the warmth of his smile. His magnetic pull was irresistible and, she found herself yearning to let her desire take hold. Quickly, she masked the flutter in her chest with a cool response, “Really, there’s no need.”

“But truly, it would be my pleasure.” 

She noted the sincerity in his tone once more, and his thoughtfulness caught her off guard. It was infuriating how likeable he insisted on being. It chipped away at the carefully built wall she kept between herself and dangerous possibilities.

Finding no words to respond, she let the moment pass. With quick thinking, she steered the conversation else where.

“What have you been doing this week?”

“Do you truly wish to hear about it?”

“Of course.” 

Sein slowed her pace until Zeya was walking by her side.

“I met with an emissary from the Northern Kingdom to discuss trade under my father’s watchful eye. He wants me to take on greater responsibility, yet he seems reluctant to fully let go. He insists these negotiations demand a delicate touch, particularly since they involve my mother’s family and is adamant we tread carefully to avoid any unnecessary discord.”

Noticing slight tension underlying his words, Sein said kindly, “I can only imagine how tricky it must be working with family members.”

“Yes, particularly my father. My mother has thoroughly acquainted me with the customs and traditions of her people so that I might carry myself appropriately in their presence. Even so, my father seems unconvinced of my readiness. 

“Meanwhile, my Master is pressing me to delve deeper into philosophy and literature, declaring them essential for diplomacy and leadership. I’ll be spending more time in the Archives, a prospect I find entirely agreeable.” 

He gave her a sly smile.

“And of course, there’s my uncle, who is adamant that I devote my entire life to mastering military strategy and sharpening my combat skills. I’m already training with him three times a week and the other days with your brother. It feels as though I’m putting every ounce of effort I have into it.”

“It sounds like you’re being pulled in different directions all at once,” Sein said sympathetically, wishing she could ease his burden.

"I understand they are preparing me for the day when I must take the reins of this kingdom, yet I can’t help but wish for a bit more time to pursue my own interests,” Zeya confided.

“What would you rather be doing with your time?”

A smile briefly appeared on his lips before Zeya replied, “To spend more time with the people I care about.” 

He flicked a glance at her and she met his eyes. By this time, they stood near one of the mango trees. Sein diverted her attention to it, one hand shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun. She sensed meaning behind what Zeya said yet she distracted her mind by studying the fruits nestled among the leaves at the top of the tree. They were larger and more vibrant than the ones on the low level branches, glowing like little treasures against the deep green foliage.

She pondered aloud, “Why do the mangoes at the very top of the tree always seem more tempting than those hanging within reach?”

Before Zeya could comment, there were sounds of chatter which alarmed Sein.