"Your name is what brings you humanity."

If Nanjie's ruling palace could be described as toweringly majestic in its exquisite material and careful detail, then Beijie's would be the opposite: expansive, elegant and endless. His eyes wandered to the meticulously low and wide architecture that hugged the ground. Each building was interwoven with unique curling flowers or spiraling woods, and all with the same dark oaken color and hung banners colored from the same palette.

Beijie's palaces clustered around the largest of them all. It rose over Amari's sight as he stepped down, considerably tall in comparison to any other. The carriage had left him behind in the distance. Another servant timidly asked him to follow along. The clothes of the servants passing were loose and relaxed, with straight and breathable fabrics. They were unlike the flowing, courtesan robes that held fast to Amari's skin—to which a dry heat had begun to tighten its hold onto.

"There, I-I can, request a change of clothes for you, Caller."

The servant boy was quick to jump at Amari's mild-mannered agreement. He maintained his distance all while scurrying back and forth as they navigated the halls. The familiar prickle of stares prodded sharply into his sides. And yet, the low whispers did not follow to mock Amari. This place was an oddity, he thought.

"The king and the third princess are inside," said the servant. He gestured to the door.

"I understand. Thank you."

Before thanks finished leaving Amari's lips, the servant placed something smooth into his palms, before shaking his head.

"For you, Caller. It's not common to speak thanks here. They don't have meaning."

Without further notice, the servant pulled open the door and beckoned to Amari. Swept along the expectant gaze, Amari stepped inside. The room was not grand in size, but was rather luxurious in comfort. Long couches were strewn with thick, woolen quilts and silken fabrics. A dark, burgundy flag unfurled against the backdrop. Floral, calming incense wafted up against the doorway.

A regal, well-aged man sat on couch. In an armchair to his right was a young woman traced in his features. They shared the same, deep gold-sepia skin and thick, curly hair. The man's gaze lit up with a welcome curiosity. Yet, the younger woman remained a glass doll. Her gaze fell far beyond the confines of the room.

Before Amari could begin to wonder, the man caught his greater attention by standing up to greet him. He was dressed as any of the other servants—sharing the same patterned cloth and slacks—yet there was a certain assurance in his eye. Something the others lacked. It was a trained wisdom that brought him a wise, regal air.

"Please sit down," the man said, gesturing amiably to the cushions opposite. Amari complied, every step delicate, as if one wrong move would set off a trap planted beneath the thick carpets.

"Welcome to Beijie. I apologize for the sudden circumstances I've put you through. Your journey was not too challenging, I hope?"

"It was not."

"Good. My apologies—I am King Qianlong. This is my third oldest, Princess Xinyi."

Princess Xinyi held her posture with customary formality. Her hands were folded neat in her lap. Her fixed gaze turned to settle on Amari. The disguised inattentiveness disappeared at once. She didn't stare at Amari's striking face, but rather, the violet-black hair that hung past his shoulders.

She nodded, "Welcome, Caller."

Her voice struck Amari as particularly unique. It was brusque and low, yet with soft intonation. Amari eyed her with a mild curiosity but returned to the king as he spoke.

"What is your name, Caller?"

Words emptied from Amari's mind.

"What do you... mean to do by asking such?"

He could not recall the last time someone had asked him for his name. According to Nanjie, a name was rather unnecessary for a tool that calls upon the rain. A title was enough—enough to tell Amari his worth.

"Your name is what brings you humanity," Princess Xinyi cut in.

Humanity.

Amari tasted the foreign word on his tongue, turning it over and over. It numbed his tongue like a tingling spice and ran its way down his throat and into his chest. He looked over to Princess Xinyi, but she had already returned to her faraway stare at his hair.

"My name is Amari. Just Amari is fine."

King Qianlong stroked his beard, nodding. "Amari, you know why you have been asked to come here, yes?"

Amari scoffed, "Why would I know? I am just... here to follow your orders."

His brows raised. "You were not told?"

"I have no inkling of what you're referring to."

"I've been told by the preceding Nanjie Ambassador you would be delighted to join us, with what we had offered you for your services. I will look into this."

"Right," Amari said, voice dripping with suspicion, "as if this 'issue' hadn't been planned out already. Tell me what I'm here for, your Majesty, and I'll do as I'm told. Then, you can return me to my awaited cage."

King Qianlong closed his eyes, not refuting Amari's words. There was an imperceptible movement in his even expression. One wrinkled hand slowly massaged the other. Then, he began to speak.

Nanjie was currently experiencing the longest drought period in decades, to the point where the new season of planting may not survive past the earliest periods of the dry spring. Any longer, the soil will become so cracked dry that even if they do manage to water the crops, it will only cause flooding.

"Do not ask me," Amari interrupted, "tell me. Just order it and it shall be done."

King Qianlong maintained a stern visage, staring Amari's gaze down evenly.

"We have people—farmers—unable to sustain themselves. Unable to sustain their children who want nothing more than to and play in the fields. Villagers who cannot afford the limited food offered. Women who come begging at our front steps, asking us to do anything, anything to keep their children alive. And at the cost of trading exuberant prices with Nanjie, we have."

King Qianlong bowed his head low, so low it almost touched his lap. The princess followed suit.

"Please. I ask that you help my people."

Amari swallowed dryly. The royal family, bowing at him—an inconceivable image. This man of strength and resilience...lacked the calculating movement of the people he spoke to at temples in the past. The way his heart bore itself to a person he didn't know—of a heritage his people feared—was inconceivable. Amari's chest tightened. He hated this. Being so above another, in a position to bargain for whatever he wanted at the expense of the world around him.

"A flat, barren location—somewhere central to your paddies and fields. Don't move people away if they live near, I don't mind them. I only require silence."

Amari fixated on the disappearing mist of the incense flowing upward, only visible against the dark swirling patterns against the wall. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw the king look up.

"And," he continued, "a set of light-colored clothes for me to wear, and its spare. That will be enough—I'll be able to do it whenever, so long as I have a location and those clothes."

"Yes, that can be done. It'll be ready by sunrise."

The man took Amari's hand into his own, pressing his forehead to it. "Your choice has not gone unseen, Amari."

Princess Xinyi politely bowed again in turn, whispering a belated thanks. Amari could only stiffen as King Qianlong made a gesture to the Princess. She stood, and somehow, unlike the faint fog floating through the back of her dark eyes, responded to her father in silent understanding.

"It is customary for daughters of the King to serve our guests of honor while they are here. Xinyi, take him to his room."

Princess Xinyi spoke simply, "Follow me."

Her eyes combed through the hair brushing against his nape, before twisting away into the hall. Princess Xinyi's back was broad like her father's. It carried the weight of the royalty atop, much like how King Qianlong did. Yet, for some reason, as she walked through corridors decorated carefully with plush drapery and acrylic art of her people as if she were alone—without anyone to confide in her plight. Quick, flowing, but carefully and strenuously pieced together to remain within the boundaries of existence.

Curiosity bubbled on Amari's tongue, but he remained silent.

Princess Xinyi entered the room, succinctly pointed out the various amenities for Amari's convenience, and stepped out the door. Before her other foot could move past the doorway, Amari called out.

"Thank you, Princess Xinyi."

Princess Xinyi stilled. She turned to Amari, meeting his eyes for the first time the entire evening. And with a polite smile, dipped into a shallow bow, before slipping out the door with the grace of a cat. Although it seemed she finally had acknowledged his existence, Amari sensed the further distance she put between them. 

It was another stray question to wonder over in his fleeting consciousness as he lay down atop the guest bed and fell asleep.