1 | stylist

---

potentially for Batu or Tòuyǐng

Mornings without a handmaiden at her side had become a somewhat more involved affair for Lian. They had never been particularly lazy in the first place, but many of the tasks fell to her entirely now. And no warm baths anymore - made worse by the lack of temple walks sheltering the waterfall basin she used as a personal bath, and the persistent terrible weather. The tropical paradise the Tianlong had been led to mitigated the worst of it. She imagined any wolves foolish enough to stay in the far northern reaches of this strange continent must be frozen right through. Lian rose before dawn and made her way down to the basin in the still-dim light before slipping into the frigid waters. Oh, she prayed to the great Dragon every plunge that some kind of hot springs would turn up in their territory, but the cold was quite bracing and she was at least woken swiftly.

Then came shaking her now-clean coat of excess water, then the task of crushing perfume from the leaves and flowers she had brought and arranging the rest of her adornments she had brought bundled in a leaf wrap on one of the larger flat stones on the riverbank. The unseasonal cold made her efforts to find new decoration nearly impossible. But she had some jasmine flowers that were still intact enough to scent her fur, and had recently found some forget-me-nots. She didn't think the bright blue color particularly suited her, but this would do; it wasn't as if they were entertaining any envoys from other packs at the moment, at least.

The sun peeked over the horizon as Lian combed her fur into place, shading the sky in yellow and blue chunks that peeked through the spotty cloud cover that never entirely went away. She tucked the twiggy branch of flowers between her toes, then tried to tuck it into the fur behind her ear. She had little luck, continuing to fight with the task with the tip of her tongue peeking between her lips in concentration. A twig snapping behind her startled the Princess - this was a process normally finished in privacy, long before encountering any of her subjects or family. Oh-! She exclaimed. Lian jumped out of her skin, all four paws landing on the stone she was perched on as she watched the forget-me-nots drift down and land in the water at her feet. The current began to placidly sweep the flowers downstream, to her dismay.

By imperial will, wèi jūn’s eye was to extend over that of the harem, and so in the days to follow the aims of yazgur and tianlong were briefly aligned.

The tiger had stalked in shadow from one daughter to another, rising now to move out into the river. Delicate blue petals are comparable to han women. There is a preoccupation with scent and bathing and small lotus feet. Their men lust for flowers.

Batu emerges from the water no sweeter or clean, but with an arm of blue blooms caught in his jaws.

“Gongzhu,” he kneels.

| skill

There is more movement, as the princess' shoulders and tail draw inward into her celestial form to try to fold her disappointment and alarm into too-small a shape to be noticed. She is crane, dragon, lotus-on-still-waters, harmony incarnate. Gold-coin eyes are wide to watch the Empress' guard plunge into the water. Unless he was never taught to swim and did not have the instinct for it, the current posed no risk to him. The only worry she had was for the sheer unnecessary effort put forth! Lian pricked her ears intently at the water's surface nonetheless, considering the noble effort to...Yes, her suspicions are proven correct when his damp skull splits the waves and powerful paws haul a sturdy, muscle-clad frame from the river.

Little, water-logged, bright blue flowers unfurl from clenched jaws. The flowers are presented with courtesy on the stone under her slim, pale feet. He looks a little like a particularly large otter, fur made dark with the water that drips off the pointed, sodden tips. Magnanimously, Lian dips her crown to scoop the delicate buds into her teeth, then steps back so wèi jūn can shake the water off his coat without daring to mist her freshly cleaned, dried and styled pelt.

In the Tianlong as it is now, there is only her close family and her subjects. No high-ranking nobleman's sons or foreign envoys and princes come to their Dynasty's doorsteps these days, not yet. Even before being transported through worlds, though, Lian has never had to be particularly subtle about enjoying this: The lengths men will go to to curry a sliver of her royal favor is one of her small joys that is uncharacteristically reflective of her age and privilege.

Whether intended as gallant or simply pragmatic, the rescue of her décor is intended to curry Imperial favor as social currency. It is simply the way things are - Lian does not get to exist outside the political. He has done her a service and so she pays him with a warm smile, a sweetly spoken Thank you! That was very kind.

The princess places the florals by her feet again. She has given up on pinning them in her pelt on her own. Will her grandmother notice? Scold her? She must focus, smooths her expression from the pensive unfocused quality it had briefly taken on. If she can find Fen or perhaps her mother or even Yue, they can help. That is for later. Lian summons the still-water calm she has long mastered, returns her briefly scattered focus onto the soaked guard before her. This is for now.

We have not been formally introduced. You are our Empress' guard, yes? New to us, I think. Her interrogation lilts like poetry, unobtrusive despite a decisive effort to cut to the quick of what she wants to know, the measure of this man.