Snowblind {complete}

Dry - Lemon

The days progressed and the temperature became unbearable for Lanna. Chowa expressed concern that Lanna would get heat exhaustion and removed her from bellows duty, finally taking the time to repair the automatic air filtration system.

The waspish woman also purchased Lanna new clothes made of loose-weave cotton. The skirts fell long and billowing, but the tops pressed tight across Lanna's breasts and exposed her belly, though Lanna had seen far more revealing garments on the concubines, so her attire would not be noteworthy in the hall. All the same, the clothing made her uncomfortable and she refused to wear it.

A day later Lanna woke bathed in sweat and so thirsty she thought her tongue had adhered to the roof of her mouth. Chowa called it ninety-seven-per-cent humidity. Lanna called it torture. The very act of breathing became a challenge. She felt as if she was drinking the air. Even Chowa wore cotton in favour of silk, gliding around the workshop in a wraparound skirt and a top pulled so tight to her upper body that it pressed her modest chest flat.

Lanna wore cotton after that, though her hands forever tweaked at the fabric. Her discomfort was made worse when she visited the Emperor to administer his immunity medication. She entered the gloriously cool rooms to find him with his feet in the pool, his hair braided back to keep it from his face.

'Ah, Assistant Li,' he said with a lazy smile as Usia admitted her. His eyes raked over her from head to toe; he rested his sharp chin on his palm and sighed.

'The more I see of you, the more I begin to appreciate muscle on a woman.'

Lanna blushed though she refused to let him fluster her thoughts.

'Have a care. If you look too long you may grow to like muscle so much that your appreciation will be for men, Your Highness,' she replied with a formal bow.

'You're not as much fun as you used to be. I may tire of you,' he scoffed at her, eyes half closing. Lanna ignored his warning but mumbled an empty apology.

She grew more exasperated with herself after every visit. She was no boy's plaything and yet this one could do as he pleased and the only weapon she had was carefully chosen words.

Ashioto pulled himself from the water and thrust out his dripping feet. She nodded at the unspoken command and took a cloth to dab his feet dry. Kneeling beside him, the warm scent of sandalwood wafted over her.

'You would move with much more grace if you took the time to learn formal dance or water forms,' he sighed.

She hardly felt his breath on her neck. The air was too warm for her skin to sense the difference.

What the palace termed 'dancing' seemed to be stepping in rhythm and waving a fan around. Pretty to watch and taking considerable skill to perform. Women trained for years to perfect the exact steps. It was even said the movements had their own language and had been used by spies to communicate in the past.

Lanna thanked the ancestors Chowa didn't wish her to learn such a thing. The flower messages were enough of a futile waste of time. Besides, the waving of fans wasn't dancing to her mind. Dancing should involve the body and be full of movement and abandon.

She held her opinion and finished drying the Imperial feet before silently handing the Emperor his dose, which he drank from the vial without hesitation. Sweat beaded on his brow and his lips pressed together.

He rose and lay on his bed, ready to sleep away the effects of the mild poison, and she moved to the desk in the corner he'd assigned her, taking up a brush to tackle her hated numbers.

Chemical formulae sometimes needed calculations to work out dosages, though more ordinarily figures were required for pricing and profit. The workshop could never be seen to struggle financially. A chemist short on coin couldn't be trusted – the temptation to use inferior ingredients or water down preparations was too high.