The Forbidden City, Beijing - April 22nd, 1940, Afternoon
"Captain, why don't you use a fork or spoon instead?"
The words struck Kylian with unexpected force, and for a moment they seemed to echo in his mind, repeating themselves as though his consciousness needed multiple attempts to process what was happening. Princess Changning was looking directly at him, her eyes meeting his with an openness that felt almost shocking given the hours of careful avoidance that had preceded this moment. There was a slight but unmistakably visible upward curve to her lips—she was amused, genuinely entertained by his struggle with the chopsticks.
"Your Highness," Kylian began, feeling suddenly self-conscious about his failure with chopsticks, "I wanted to eat in the manner of local custom, but it seems the execution is proving more difficult than I thought."
He admitted this with a slight smile, turning his head to face her more directly while gently placing his chopsticks back on the plate in a gesture of surrender. The simple honesty of his admission seemed to delight her.
The Princess covered her mouth with her knuckles in a gesture that was quintessentially feminine and charming. She giggled, her eyes closing briefly with genuine cheer, and Kylian found the moment profoundly endearing. There was something almost innocent about her laughter, unselfconscious and natural, completely at odds with the rigid protocol that governed everything else about this ceremony.
"Do you always try to follow local customs so literally, Captain?" Princess Changning asked, genuine curiosity evident in her tone. She wasn't looking at him as she posed the question—instead, she faced forward, clearly conscious of maintaining proper appearances while still engaging in conversation. Her awareness of protocol, her ability to converse while appearing not to, demonstrated a sophistication born into royalty.
"Yes, Your Highness," Kylian replied, instinctively matching her posture by turning to face forward as well. "We Hanseatics consider it a point of honor to respect the culture and customs of our hosts. It's fundamental to how we approach diplomatic relations."
"I would say the true custom lies in the appreciation of the food itself, Captain," Princess Changning replied, her voice carrying a note of gentle instruction. "A truly good host can recognize that adaptation is itself a form of respect and cultural engagement. You will not offend anyone by ensuring you are properly fed rather than struggling with unfamiliar implements."
She turned her head to him again for the briefest moment, and once more there was that smile playing at the corners of her lips—subtle, knowing, impossibly attractive in its combination of propriety and warmth.
Kylian immediately felt his chest tighten at her reassuring words, at the kindness underlying them. She was giving him permission to be himself, to abandon the performance and simply enjoy the experience. "Your Highness, if you insist, then I shall eat in the manner I'm accustomed to," he replied, reaching for a porcelain spoon.
He scooped up the piece of jellied pork that had been tormenting him and placed it in his mouth. The meat itself was succulent, practically melting on his tongue. Kylian's eyebrows rose involuntarily, his expression reflecting pleasant surprise at how exceptional it tasted.
"I hope it was to your liking, Captain?" Princess Changning asked with studied casualness, not even facing him. "Wash it down with wine, the pork can be quite heavy otherwise."
Her ability to maintain perfect protocol while engaging in such natural conversation astounded Kylian. How did she do it? How could she speak so naturally, so warmly, while never appearing to be doing anything improper? He began to wonder, with a pang of something like loneliness, whether he was the only one experiencing this interaction as profoundly charged with significance. Perhaps for her this was simply pleasant conversation with a foreign dignitary, unremarkable and easily forgotten.
"It is genuinely delicious, Your Highness," Kylian replied, trying to match her casual tone despite the hammering of his heart. "All the options here are tempting, I hardly know where to begin with such variety."
He reached for the fruit wine in a delicate porcelain cup and took a sip. The flavor was unlike anything he was accustomed to in Hansa—lighter, sweeter, with subtle notes that complemented rather than overpowered the food. It did indeed wash down the richness of the pork quite effectively.
"What do you think of our country, Captain?" Princess Changning asked, tilting her head ever so slightly in his direction, a movement so subtle that anyone not watching closely would miss it entirely, yet to Kylian it felt like a spotlight turning toward him. "It must represent a completely different world from your own."
"It is an extraordinarily beautiful country, Your Highness," Kylian replied with complete sincerity. "And of course, we understand that as visitors we must adapt to local ways. But in that very process of adaptation, one learns to appreciate the sophistication and depth of the culture."
Princess Changning smiled at this response, and though she wasn't facing him directly, he could see the expression in her profile—genuine pleasure at his words, perhaps appreciation for his attempt to understand rather than merely observe. "Your words are very kind, Captain. But I find myself curious, is the life of a Hanseatic officer as filled with ceremony and protocol as ours? Do you spend your days navigating formal requirements as we do?"
Her voice was soft, almost intimate in its quiet intensity, and Kylian felt his heart begin to pound at the personal nature of the question. She was asking about his life, his experience, showing genuine interest in him as a person rather than merely as a foreign representative.
"I cannot speak for all Hanseatic officers, Your Highness," Kylian admitted carefully, "but mine certainly has been. I have been learning about diplomacy and protocol ever since I first learned to read and write. It's been the foundation of my education."
Even as he spoke, he wondered whether he was revealing too much, whether discussing his own upbringing crossed some boundary of appropriate diplomatic conversation. But she had asked, and something about her genuine curiosity made it impossible not to answer honestly.
Princess Changning made a small sound, "Hmm?" that somehow conveyed both surprise and increased interest. She turned to face him for a quick moment, her dark eyes seeking his, before continuing. "Why is that, Captain? Are you saying you were raised specifically to be an officer? That this was predetermined rather than chosen?"
The slight tilt of her head as she asked created an absolute storm inside Kylian. The gesture was so natural, so unconsciously graceful, that he found himself wanting desperately to see it again, to catalog every subtle movement she made that very much captivated him.
He composed himself internally, forcing his thoughts back to coherence. "You could say that, Your Highness. My family, the house of von Reichsgraf is deeply rooted in tradition and concepts of honor. Every member has certain obligations, certain expectations. It is considered our duty to uphold these values through service."
He took another sip of the plum wine, using the gesture to buy himself a moment to consider his words more carefully.
"I see," Princess Changning murmured slowly, thoughtfully. Then, startling him completely, she turned to stare straight into his eyes with an intensity that made everything else in the courtyard seem to fade into insignificance. "Captain, I'm intrigued. Can you tell me more about your family? What are these traditions you speak of?"
Her dark eyes seemed to sparkle with genuine interest, and Kylian felt momentarily paralyzed by the directness of her gaze.
He had not expected the Princess to ask something so personal, to show such interest in his background. "Your Highness, We are an ancient noble house in service to the Hanseatic Empire, we have served the Crown for over ten centuries. Each member of the house has traditionally held significant duties in government service."
He paused, then added with a slight smile, "I also have a brother who is serving as our Imperial Chancellor."
Though she faced away from him, the Princess raised her eyebrows at this revelation. "That is quite an expectation you must constantly work to reach," she observed quietly, reaching for her own porcelain cup of wine. "But tell me, Captain, do you genuinely believe in these values yourself? Or do you follow them simply because you were....taught to?"
The question was more penetrating than Kylian had anticipated. She wasn't just making conversation, she was trying to understand who he was beneath the uniform and the family name.
Kylian took a sip of wine before responding, using the moment to formulate an honest answer. "Your Highness, I think I do believe in them, genuinely. Although the formality and the numerous rules can certainly be constraining at times, I believe they provide a framework—a sense of what is right, what actions honor requires. The structure gives meaning to service."
He was being more honest than he had intended, revealing thoughts he rarely articulated even to himself. He felt immense pressure from his family's expectations, yes, but he also genuinely honored and respected the values those expectations represented.
The Princess turned her head slightly toward him, and their eyes met once more. "You are a very interesting person, Captain von Reichsgraf." she said, and her smile widened, not the subtle, controlled expression she had shown before, but something more open, more joyful. Her head tilted again in that gesture he found so captivating, and the genuine warmth in her expression washed over him.
Does she smile at others like this? The thought came unbidden, followed immediately by a sharp pang of something like hurt. Even if she did feel some connection to him, even if this conversation meant something to her as it did to him, what did it matter? She was an imperial princess, he was a foreign officer. The gulf between them was unbridgeable. She could never be his. The realization settled over him like a weight, making the joy of this moment bittersweet.
Princess Changning turned her attention back to her food, beginning to finish the last bites of the first course with the same grace she brought to everything. The easy flow of their conversation paused as both attended to the matter of eating.
Then the sound of coordinated footsteps could be heard approaching once again, servants returning to clear away the first course and prepare for the next. They moved efficiently, taking away all the plates from every guest's table simultaneously. The first course was concluded; now it was time for the meal's centerpiece.
After all tables were cleaned, servants appeared holding even more elaborate containers—heavy lidded bowls, covered steamers, ornate platters that required two people to carry. Like the previous course, meticulous coordination ensured every guest received their food at essentially the same moment. The precision was itself a demonstration of imperial competence and resources.
Yet in the Hanseatic pavilion, the atmosphere was thick with a different kind of tension, "I do not like this situation at all," Foreign Minister von Hausen said quietly, setting down his porcelain cup with slightly more force than necessary. His eyes flicked briefly toward the Japanese pavilion, then returned to his own table.
"What could possibly concern you at a time like this, Minister?" Ambassador von Rottberg asked simply, though his tone suggested he could guess.
"The Japanese," von Hausen stated flatly. There was a moment of silence in the pavilion as the weight of those words settled. "They have been observing the young von Reichsgraf throughout this entire ceremony. I am deeply worried that Theodosia may have already received telegrams, perhaps from concerned observers, noting that one of the Empire's most prominent young officers is seated directly beside a Chinese imperial princess. And they would have received this information without any context, without understanding that this arrangement was accidental rather than deliberate. Just give it a thought about how this would look if we were the Japanese."
He finished speaking, his tone carefully controlled but underneath carrying layers of worry that both von Rottberg and Wolfgang could easily detect.
The servants placed dishes on the Hanseatic delegation's table and unveiled them with theatrical flourishes. The second course was even more sophisticated than the first, representing the pinnacle of Chinese imperial cuisine.
There was supreme stock soup, a dish requiring days of preparation to achieve crystal-clear broth. Peking Duck arrived next, the imperial version incomparable to anything available elsewhere, its skin crackling and mahogany-crisp, the meat succulent beyond description, accompanied by paper-thin pancakes, fresh scallions, and sweet bean sauce. Finally came steamed fish, likely caught that morning and steamed to silky perfection, finished tableside with shredded ginger and scallions before a servant poured heated oil over everything, releasing an intoxicating aroma.
Wolfgang looked at these dishes with barely contained anticipation. He desperately wanted to dive in and experience everything this extraordinary meal had to offer but the conversation between Minister von Hausen and Ambassador von Rottberg continued to occupy his attention, impossible to ignore despite the distraction of spectacular food.
He scanned the area and took a careful glance toward Kylian's position. He could see that his friend was engaged in conversation with Princess Changning, barely noticeable unless one was specifically paying attention, but unmistakable to someone who knew Kylian as well as Wolfgang did. The sight was simultaneously surprising and oddly touching.
Kylian? Actually talking to a woman? A princess, no less? He never knew this side of his friend existed. Kylian had always been so focused on duty, on protocol, on maintaining proper distance. To see him engaged in what appeared to be genuine conversation with a princess was a pleasant revelation to the side of his friend Wolfgang didn't know existed.
Wolfgang also noticed the Japanese delegation however. They were talking among themselves, occasionally glancing in Kylian's direction, sometimes toward the Hanseatic pavilion. Their body language conveyed suspicion, perhaps offense at the seating arrangement. It made him profoundly uneasy.
"I understand your concern, Minister," Ambassador von Rottberg said carefully, "but what has happened has happened. We cannot change the seating arrangement at this point. At least we have a legitimate explanation for the situation, the Minister of Rites fell ill and this was the only available seat of appropriate dignity. No one can reasonably claim we engineered this positioning."
"Yes, but that is precisely what troubles me, Your Honor," von Hausen replied, his voice tight with controlled frustration. "The Japanese will suspect we are conspiring with the Chinese to deliberately insult them by positioning our officer beside an imperial princess. And I would not be so concerned if this involved some other captain. But this is a von Reichsgraf. If the Chancellor's own brother is perceived as being used in some game against Japan, the diplomatic implications will be severe."
The Hanseatic pavilion fell silent as each man contemplated the potential complications.
"Let us wait for the ceremony to conclude and assess the situation then," von Rottberg finally suggested, reaching for his chopsticks. "But I must say, Minister, that Captain von Reichsgraf is handling this circumstance with remarkable composure. He's maintaining proper protocol while making the best of an awkward situation. Let us hope things will proceed smoothly through the remainder of the festivities."
He began eating, hoping desperately that this seating accident would not escalate into a diplomatic incident that could damage carefully cultivated relationships.
Kylian meanwhile, had been slowly savoring the supreme stock soup, letting each spoonful linger on his palate to fully appreciate the depth and complexity of flavors. He felt as though his heart was somehow too full, expanding in his chest in a way that was simultaneously wonderful and painful. He knew this feeling must be connected to Princess Changning, to these stolen moments of genuine conversation. But he tried not to examine those feelings too closely, tried to avoid facing their implications directly.
Princess Changning ate in silence for several minutes, and Kylian found himself observing her with helpless fascination. The way she moved her chopsticks—precise, economical, graceful. The way she selected each piece of food with thoughtful consideration. The posture of her body as she sat. Perfect without appearing rigid, that natural elegance which always accompanied her. He couldn't understand why she seemed so perfect in everything she did, why every gesture carried such weight for him.
"Captain..."
Princess Changning's voice was quiet, barely audible above the ambient noise of thousands of people eating and conversing amidst the music that filled the courtyard. She wasn't facing him, her eyes remained on her food, but Kylian immediately gave her his complete attention.
"Yes, Your Highness?" he replied, not expecting her to break the comfortable silence so suddenly.
"Earlier, you spoke of duty and honor as guiding principles. Tell me, does serving in government truly align with those values as you understand them? Is there sometimes tension between what honor demands and what political necessity requires?"
The question was more philosophical, more challenging than anything she had asked before. She took a sip of wine as she waited for his response.
Kylian considered carefully before answering. "Yes, Your Highness, I do believe service and honor can align. When you serve at the highest levels of government, it becomes your responsibility to ensure that power is not abused—not by subordinates, not by fellow officials, and when necessary, not even by the sovereign himself. I believe that honor, that willingness to speak truth to power, represents the ultimate application of the values I hold."
His answer was honest, perhaps more honest than was diplomatically wise. In Hanseatic political philosophy, the nobility served as a check on absolute monarchy, a principle that might sound treasonous in the Chinese context.
"I disagree."
Princess Changning's statement was firm, almost sharp, and Kylian's eyebrows rose in surprise. He nearly choked on the spoonful of soup he was swallowing, caught completely off-guard by her direct contradiction.
She continued without pause, her voice carrying conviction of deep belief: "The Emperor is the ultimate sovereign, the Son of Heaven. In our tradition, he is not merely a political ruler but a cosmic mediator between Heaven and Earth. It is his sacred duty, his heavenly mandate to ensure harmony and to prevent the abuse of power by officials. The system functions properly when the Emperor fulfills this role effectively."
"Your Highness, I would never presume to object to your understanding of your own culture," Kylian replied carefully, keeping his voice low. "But I wonder, how can even the most conscientious emperor address problems if the officials themselves are corrupt? If they control the flow of information, if they manipulate reports and conceal problems, how can the sovereign know where to direct his attention?"
"That is precisely why a strong, wise emperor is essential," Princess Changning replied without hesitation, "It is his duty to see through deception, to find ways to verify information, to maintain networks of loyal servants who will report truthfully. If officials are corrupt, then the country itself becomes corrupt, the two cannot be separated. That is why the emperor matters so profoundly. But sometimes, even the most righteous of emperors do not have the mandate of heaven.", she said, the slight smile on her lips barely reaching her eyes.
Kylian paused, struck by the weight of what she had just implied but she was absolutely firm in her stance, and Kylian understood that beneath the careful court facade was a woman of genuine strength, someone who held her own beliefs and someone who understood how power truly moved around the world.
It had been several hours now, and the wedding banquet continued to unfold in seemingly endless courses, each more elaborate than the last, each accompanied by specific wines chosen to complement particular flavors. The feast was itself a demonstration of imperial wealth and sophistication, designed to impress foreign dignitaries while honoring the newlyweds.
Kylian found himself repeatedly glancing toward the Japanese pavilion, and he never liked what he saw. The Japanese officials kept their eyes on him with disturbing consistency, their expressions suggesting calculation rather than mere curiosity. It was making him increasingly uncomfortable as time progressed, the weight of their scrutiny becoming harder to ignore.
Then ladies-in-waiting appeared at the table where Princess Changning sat, forming a small delegation that signaled the end of her attendance. Kylian turned his head quickly at the sudden crowd forming around him, realizing what this meant.
"I hope you enjoyed your time here, Captain," Princess Changning said as she gracefully rose to her feet. "It is time for me to depart. The ladies of the imperial family do not remain for the entire banquet, we withdraw once the ceremonial requirements are complete."
Kylian could only offer a small bow, his throat suddenly tight with an emotion he couldn't name. "Your Highness."
She departed with her ladies-in-waiting forming a protective circle around her, maintaining perfect dignity and grace. The whole courtyard watched as the imperial princesses withdrew, this too was part of the ceremony, part of the elaborate choreography that governed every aspect of court life.
Only then did Kylian realize, with stunned surprise and a pang of guilt, that Princess Ruyi had been seated on Princess Changning's other side throughout the entire banquet. He had been so completely focused on Princess Changning that he hadn't even noticed her sister's presence. What must Ruyi have thought of his obvious attention to Changning? Had she noticed? Had others?
He watched as Princess Changning and her entourage moved across the courtyard toward the inner palace, her blue robes catching the afternoon light, her posture perfect even as she must have been exhausted from hours of formal ceremony.
He wondered, with an ache that surprised him with its intensity, whether he would ever see her again. After this wedding concluded, he would return to the Hanseatic Empire. He would resume his duties, work to climb the ranks of government and military service, pursue the career his family name demanded and his training had prepared him for. What would Princess Changning be doing then? Would she remember this conversation, these hours stolen from protocol? Would she think of him at all, or would he become just another foreign dignitary who had passed through the court, indistinguishable from dozens of others?
He took a small, shuddering breath and returned his attention to the food before him. The ceremony wasn't over yet—there would be more courses, more toasts, more formal observances before foreign guests could depart. But she had left, and the atmosphere suddenly felt empty, as though something vital had been removed from the space. He didn't want to dwell on these feelings or acknowledge their dangerous intensity, but he couldn't stop seeing her face when he closed his eyes—the slight tilt of her head, the spark in her dark eyes, the way her smile transformed her entire expression.
The wedding continued around him with all its elaborate ceremony and political significance, but for Kylian, the important part was over. She had spoken to him, laughed with him, challenged his ideas and shared her own. For a few hours, they had connected across the vast gulf of culture and rank and circumstance. Now she was gone, and he was left wondering whether those hours had been a beginning or an ending—whether this conversation might somehow, impossibly, continue, or whether it was simply a beautiful moment that would exist only in memory, perfect and complete and forever out of reach.