The dim glow of the rising sun bathed the western horizon in muted tones of gold and crimson. The bustling palace of Luthadel had begun to stir, its inhabitants waking to the routines of royal life. For Princess Althaea, however, sleep had eluded her entirely. Her mind remained restless after the unexpected arrival of Princess Na-na the evening before. There was something about the Chinese envoy that unsettled her a grace too practiced, a confidence too unwavering.
In her private chamber, Althaea paced the polished marble floor. She clutched a letter Na-na had gifted her upon arrival, written in delicate strokes of calligraphy. It was a poem, one that spoke of fleeting beauty, eternal duty, and the fragility of trust. Though the words were unfamiliar in style, they struck a deep chord.
"What does she want from us?" Althaea murmured to herself.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. "Enter," she called, smoothing her silk robe.
It was Sir Ewan, her most trusted guard. "Your Highness, the envoy from the East has requested your presence in the rose garden. She wishes to speak with you alone."
Althaea hesitated. She had planned to avoid Na-na until the formal negotiations, yet curiosity gnawed at her resolve. "Tell her I'll meet her shortly," she said, dismissing him with a wave.
Moments later, Althaea stepped into the palace's famed rose garden. The fragrance of the blossoms mixed with the crisp morning air, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. There, beneath the shade of an ancient oak, stood Princess Na-na, her silhouette as poised as a statue carved by the gods themselves.
Na-na turned at the sound of footsteps. "Good morning, Princess Althaea," she greeted, her voice melodic yet commanding. "I trust you slept well?"
Althaea approached cautiously, her diplomatic instincts sharpening. "Not as well as I'd hoped, though it seems you are unaffected by travel. Your elegance betrays no fatigue."
Na-na smiled, a subtle tilt of her head. "In my land, we are taught that the soul carries more weight than the body. A rested mind can overcome any burden."
"And what burden brings you to our kingdom, Princess?" Althaea asked, folding her arms.
Na-na's gaze drifted over the garden, as if searching for an answer among the flowers. "Trade, of course. But also understanding. In my travels, I have found that the greatest wealth is not gold or silk, but knowledge." She paused, her eyes locking with Althaea's. "Do you not agree?"
Althaea hesitated, sensing layers beneath the surface of Na-na's words. "Knowledge, perhaps. But trust? That is the rarest commodity."
Na-na's expression softened. "You are wise for one so young. Trust is indeed rare, but it can be cultivated, like these roses. With patience, care, and sometimes... a few thorns."
Althaea couldn't suppress a small smile at the metaphor, but her guard remained up. "And what is it you hope to learn from us?"
"Not from your kingdom, but from you, Princess," Na-na said, stepping closer. "You see, I have heard tales of your bravery in the court, your sharp mind and unwavering loyalty. I believe you and I are not so different."
The words, though flattering, left Althaea unsettled. She had spent years mastering the art of diplomacy, yet this woman from the East seemed to see straight through her defenses. "I appreciate your kind words, but you've yet to answer my question."
Na-na tilted her head, her ebony hair catching the sunlight. "And you have yet to trust me. Perhaps our answers will reveal themselves in time."
Before Althaea could respond, a loud commotion erupted from the palace. The sound of hurried footsteps and panicked voices grew louder, breaking the serenity of the garden. Sir Ewan appeared, his face pale. "Your Highnesses, there has been an attack in the eastern market. Bandits have set fire to the stalls and taken hostages."
Althaea's heart sank. "How many?"
"Too many, Your Highness. They demand an audience with the royal family—or the city burns."
Without hesitation, Althaea turned to Na-na. "I must go. Forgive me."
But Na-na placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Do not apologize. Let me come with you. Together, we may find a way to resolve this without bloodshed."
Althaea hesitated. The idea of trusting a foreign envoy in such a delicate situation seemed unwise, yet there was something in Na-na's demeanor that made her reconsider. "Very well. But stay close."
The two women, followed by Sir Ewan and a contingent of guards, made their way to the market. Smoke filled the air as flames devoured wooden stalls and wares. The bandits, a ragged group of men armed with crude weapons, stood defiantly in the center of the chaos, their leader holding a knife to a merchant's throat.
"Stop this madness!" Althaea called, her voice firm. "Release the hostages, and you may yet live."
The leader sneered. "What good is life without coin, Princess? Your taxes starve us while you feast in your palace."
Althaea's jaw tightened, but Na-na stepped forward, her movements deliberate. "And what good is coin without peace?" she said, her voice calm but commanding. "Do you truly believe this path will lead to prosperity?"
The leader hesitated, taken aback by the foreign woman's presence. "And who are you to speak of peace?"
"I am Princess Na-na of the Song Dynasty," she replied, her tone unwavering. "In my land, I have seen the devastation of war and the futility of greed. But I have also seen how dialogue can build bridges where swords cannot."
Her words seemed to stir something in the crowd. The bandits exchanged uncertain glances, their leader's grip on his knife faltering. "You speak well, but words won't feed my men."
Na-na smiled faintly. "Then let us make a trade. Release the hostages, and I will see to it that your grievances are heard. Perhaps we can find a solution that benefits all."
After a tense moment, the leader lowered his knife and gestured for his men to release the captives. The crowd erupted in relieved murmurs as the hostages were freed, and the flames were extinguished. Althaea watched in astonishment as Na-na handled the situation with poise and grace.
As the two princesses returned to the palace, Althaea turned to Na-na. "You risked much to speak with those men. Why?"
Na-na's gaze was distant, her expression unreadable. "Because sometimes, the greatest battles are fought not with swords, but with hearts and minds."
Althaea nodded slowly, her respect for the foreign envoy growing despite her initial doubts. Yet, as they reached the palace gates, a question lingered in her mind a question that would haunt her in the days to come:
What kind of woman could wield words with the power of an army, and what was her true purpose in Luthadel?