Chapter Twelve: Zheng MeiLan Belongs to Me

The horse trotted swiftly back toward the mansion, always more eager to get home to the comforts of her stall than she was to go out. Behind her, in the carriage, the two women rode in uncomfortable silence, while Master Long sat with a peaceful, contented expression on his too-handsome face. Occasionally when the carriage wheels bumped over some hole in the road, his long legs made his knees jostle against theirs. MeiLan found herself constantly staring at that face and admiring its masculine perfection. His eyes were wide and long-lashed, his brows were straight and dark, and his nose was absolutely perfect. His jaw was strong. She had an outrageous urge to reach out and touch the curve of his cheek, something she'd never felt before in her life. Judging by the way that Anak was clutching her hands together in her lap, she seemed to be wrestling with the same compulsion. 

"Let's open the curtains," MeiLan said, reaching for the heavy embroidered fabric. "It's too stuffy in here." 

Anak helped her tie back the curtains so that a slight breeze could enter the confined space. Lee glanced back with a worried look, but she gave him a small smile to let him know that everything was fine.

Emilian had jogged beside the horse for some distance, but eventually grew tired, and had taken a seat on the back of the carriage with the packages. He felt a stormy rage brewing in his chest. How could MeiLan allow the stranger to come back to the manor with them? It occurred to him once again that not very long ago, he too had been a stranger, and she had welcomed him into her service, but that was different. Emilian had performed a heroic deed to earn his place in MeiLan's household. What had Long done besides behave rudely and eat too much? Emilian performed a valuable service by caring for the horses, what was the white-haired man going to do? He acted like he was a great teacher, a "master", but to Emilian, he was just a fraud and a con man who intended to prey upon MeiLan's sweet nature and goodness.

Emilian could feel his pulse pounding in his ears by the time the carriage turned into the Yongli gate and rolled back toward the stables. He wanted to help MeiLan down, but Master Long jumped to the ground first. He did not bother with the step but grasped MeiLan around the waist and lifted her down like a child. From his place at the wheel, Emilian could see how MeiLan blushed prettily and turned her face away to hide the heat. She steadied herself on Long's forearms before she took the walking stick from Lee and put a few steps distance between them.

She smoothed down her dress and waited while Anak retrieved the packages. "When you have finished putting the horse away, please join us for tea," she looked specifically at Emilian, as though she could sense he was troubled. Then she began moving slowly toward her hall. Master Long fell into step beside her. She looked up at him, feeling flustered, but he was striding along with his hands behind his back, his expression relaxed and pleasant as he gazed at all of the flowers and statuary. "Your uncle's house is very beautiful," he said approvingly. "It shall do very nicely for your training." 

"Master Long," MeiLan stopped abruptly, "I have already informed you that I am well past school age. However, there are some young boys here, perhaps you can give instruction to my cousins."

Long stopped beside her, and for a moment, his eyes flashed, and she thought she saw a hint of red in his irises, but it was impossible, it must have been the sun or a reflection of the red roof tiles. His face had tightened into a grim expression. "I have only one disciple, Zheng MeiLan, and that is you."

She frowned in confusion, as she could not remember when, or if she had revealed her family name to the man. For a moment she felt a shiver of fear. Perhaps she should not have allowed the vagrant to come home with them after all. No matter how sorry she felt for him, it was unwise and unsafe to allow strangers to enter the compound. Aunt and Uncle had allowed Emilian to stay out of gratitude for his act of bravery in stopping the run-away carriage, but what would they say when she had brought a lunatic home? She ducked her head feeling shame at her own lack of judgment. They reached the stone table, and MeiLan gestured toward it graciously. "Please, have a seat. Allow me a few minutes, and then I will return for tea."

Emilian rushed through the work of cooling off the horse, washing off the sweat marks, and returning her to the stable. He did not want to leave Long alone with MeiLan for any longer than necessary. When he hurried back to the stone table, he was gratified to find that Long was sitting alone, and that the tea had not yet been served. Emilian sat on his usual seat to wait. Long gave him a slow, considering look. "Have we met before? I feel like I know you." 

Emlian frowned back at the silver-haired man. "Of course, we have met. Remember we dined with you at the inn on the way from the Sky Temple."

The man tapped his long, slender fingers against his lips. "Yes. No. No, it seems I know you from somewhere else. What is your family name?"

Emilian's brow wrinkled. "I have none."

"No family name! How is that possible? Are you a foundling, with no parents at all?"

Emilian ground his teeth together. He did not mind that MeiLan knew he was a lost man with no memory of the past, but he felt like he should not reveal any kind of vulnerability to Long. Instead of answering he stared straight ahead with a stony expression. After a few minutes Lee joined them, and Anak appeared with the tray of tea, and some small snacks. Finally, MeiLan came. She had changed back into her dark suit, with the neat row of frog buttons up the front. She sat with a tired sigh and leaned her walking stick up against the table. Anak poured the tea, and MeiLan took the cup gratefully.

"Master Long," she said when she set the teacup down. "You will sleep over the stables with Mr. Lee and Emilian. I will have a bed and bedding sent over immediately."

Long's teacup clattered against the stone table. "In the stable!" his handsome face looked very offended, his dark brows drawing low over his nose. "You expect me to sleep with the horses?"

MeiLan's eyes widened, but her voice remained calm and mild as she reached for a bun. "Unfortunately, this is not my home, and I cannot offer you better accommodations. I am already straining my uncle to add another person here."

Long reached for a bun, and muttered under his breath, "If you knew who I am…" He crammed a big bite into his mouth and said no more.

"Mr. Lee, if you would please ask if there is an extra bed in the servant's quarters? And Anak, could you find him some blankets?" The two servants quickly agreed. Emilian sat glowering at the table. He didn't want to share a room with Long, but he was slightly gratified that the man wasn't being given any special rights. It was simply too much that he thought he was too good to sleep in the stables like a servant. What did he expect? His own hall in the manor? A palace perhaps?

When the tea was finished, they dispersed. Mr. Lee escorted Master Long back to the stables and showed him the ladder that led to the loft over the tack room, while Emilian trailed behind sullenly. Long grunted, and grasped the rungs, climbing into the cramped room under the roof. He was so tall that he could barely stand upright in the center of the room. He brushed his white hair back away from his face and looked around disdainfully. It was almost barren, with only the two small bed frames, and the servant's few belongings organized on top of upside-down crates. 

For Emilian, it was the first real home he could remember having. The few things he'd collected over the last few weeks of employment were the only belongings he'd ever held, and he deeply resented the look of scorn on Long's face. Mr. Lee gestured to the beds. "Emilian, please move your bed closer to mine, so that there is room for Mr. Long."

Emilian moved to obey, out of respect for Lee, not because he cared one iota about Long having enough space in the loft. Mr. Lee left them alone to go ask for another bed frame. Emilian sat on the end of his own bed and watched Long swat a spider web out of the rafters. Now that they were alone, he could no longer hold his tongue. "You should not abuse Miss Zheng's charity," he said coldly.

Long turned on him, and for a moment his eyes seemed to blaze with anger. He stared at the younger man for a long time before he spoke. "I respect your loyalty towards your mistress, but there is something you should understand, boy." He straightened himself, and almost seemed to grow larger, or perhaps it was the room that seemed to be shrinking. The small space grew unbearably warm until Emilian was tugging at his collar. Was it the afternoon sun on the tiles that was making the room hot and airless or was it Long himself? "Zheng MeiLan is mine. She has always been mine, since the day she was born."