We grow closer to each other over the next week. It was a friendship that started out forced but became comfortable over time. She rarely cares anymore about how she looks or acts toward me; I am not a person worth impressing with her image. Neither do I care how I regard her, although I am still careful to keep a respectable distance between us.

I do this because I realize that she enraptures me.

I admire her ability to adapt, for one thing. She knows that I am the only one who can lead her back to the Capital, and for that, she trusts me to provide food, shelter, and protection. While I do that, she gives me what I’ve never had – the luxury of companionship.

I don’t want anyone to pull her away from me.

And I know the reason, too. I only pretend to be uncertain, but I know; I like her. But whether I like her because of who she is or whom she resembles, is something I am still attempting to resolve.

During the day, I steer us away from main roads and focus on the path that will take us to the Nights. I could easily get to it within the next few days, but it is safer to wait a little longer. Also, I don’t want to bring her there.

Due to the inconvenience of her attire, Nari has ripped the long edge of her skirt as well as the decorative lace on her dress. Her clothes are now almost the same color as the forest, whereas mine remains as it was – black. She continues to use the blanket we had stolen from the last town we visited as a cloak. I think it suits her. She looked magnificent as the daughter of the Capital’s leader, but now it seems that even a life of wandering is a part of her daring spirit.

Although we’ve encountered some difficulties in relation to finding food and shelter, somehow our ends always meet before dusk. Someone must be caring for us from above; there’s no way I carry this much luck.

One morning when Nari and I are hacking our way through the forest – me with my knife, she with a branch – we start to talk about our childhood.

“When I was younger,” she tells me, “I dreamt of using weapons like the Capital’s own.”

“I didn’t know the Capital’s daughter had such fantasies.”

“All children dream of things unrelated to their lifestyle.” Nari trudges through a cluster of low foliage. “Although I never once dreamt I’d be journeying the forest with my bodyguard.”

“I never once dreamt I’d be protecting the Capital’s daughter.”

She allows herself to sneak me a smile, and I, too, allow myself to smile back.

“What was your life like, Tao? Was it filled with training?”

Normally, I would be careful with any mention of my past, but I don’t find a reason to be cautious around Nari. I want to hide as little from her as possible.

“Yes. From the moment I was born, I was taught that in order to live, I had to fight.” I remember my father teaching me that the reason we were trained so intensively wasn’t simply so that we could become the best fighters; it was so that we knew how to reach our body’s full potential. “We didn’t boast about it. It was what we had to do. It was in our blood.”

“Did you hate it?”

I never considered disliking fighting. It was more the people surrounding me and the incentive I was given rather than the actual act of physically marring someone. “No. But I didn’t love it, either.”

“Do you think you could teach me some things?” Nari asks. “What if we encounter danger, and you’re temporarily occupied, and thus can’t assist me when I need saving?”

“That won’t happen.”

“It’s a possible scenario. It could be useful. I’d like to return to the Capital with more than dirt on my dress.” She stops swinging her branch around her. “Would you teach me? We have all the time in the world.”

I hesitate. “I’m not sure it would be a good idea.”

“Why wouldn’t it be? Any ability is useful.” She holds her branch out to me like a rod. “Perhaps you can teach me a wushu technique, or even how to use a knife.”

“I don’t think you’d be able to do it.”

“Are you underestimating me?”

Mildly, I reply, “I’m concerned for your safety.”

“You think I’ll hurt myself.”

“Yes.”

She frowns. “I won’t.”

“I’m not sure about that.”

“Tao, I’m more than you think I am.”

I’m sure you are, Nari, but I don’t want to teach you. It will only develop the fondness I already have for you.

“You’ll have to do it if I order you to, wouldn’t you?”

“We aren’t under the law of the Capital, currently.”

“We’re not in the Capital,” she answers, “but I am part of the Capital.”

I chuckle. “Since you’re so confident, then perhaps I will have to teach you.”

“Good. How do we start?”

I search for a long, thick branch around me instead of answering. When I find one, I use my knife to shave off the smaller branches around it until it is as smooth as I can make it. It isn’t very straight, but it will be sufficient for our lesson.

“Balance is extremely important,” I begin as I twist the stick around my arms, spinning it until it is a blur of brown and black. “As well as coordination. Strength, too, and speed.” I crouch into a common position in the art of wushu. “This is a good posture to be in when you are either attacking or defending. It’s flexible in that you can easily switch to a different position depending on the situation.”

She copies me clumsily. I have to hide my laughter so that she won’t hit me with verbal barbs. “Like this?”

“Sure. And then – “

“Sure?”

“It’s good.”

“You’re being sarcastic.”

“Can’t say I’ve never been.”

“You are so infuriating sometimes.”

I shrug. “That’s my charm.”

She scoffs. “I don’t understand how you became my bodyguard. What did you do?”

I showed off. “Nothing much.”

“Just give me the rod, and I’ll try it,” she says and grabs the end of the stick. She pulls, but I don’t budge. She pulls again, but hardly manages to pull it from my grip. “Tao.” She pulls once more, but instead, I use her momentum to pull the stick towards me and consequently draw her nearer. She gasps, topples forward, and lands onto my chest.

“That’s rude,” she mumbles. She twists her shoulders to escape me, but I hold her as tightly as I had held the stick.

“I can be very rude, I admit.”

“You’re not charming,” she responds, but her red cheeks are signs that she is lying. “Let me go.”

“I’m not sure I want to.”

“What?”

I release her, and she crosses her arms. “You’re deranged, you know that?”

I set the stick down. “I think conversation would be a better way to go rather than this wushu lesson.”

“You don’t think I’m capable of fighting.”

“You’re the Capital’s daughter,” I say. “I don’t think you’re capable of very much.”

“Watch me.”

I’m so surprised by her punch that I can’t even block it. It doesn’t hurt – it was rather weak – but her form was perfect. I gape at her.

“What?”

“You hit me.”

“Yeah,” she says proudly.

“It doesn’t hurt,” I say to shake her confidence, “but it was very good.”

“Someone taught me when I was a kid. He was very, very good at fighting. Kind of like you.”

“Apparently not good enough, if that’s all you can pack into a punch.”

“He wasn’t with me for very long,” she argues. “I haven’t seen him since he was taken away.” She watches her hand as she opens and closes it into a fist. “I don’t even remember what he looks like.”

“You didn’t value him, then.”

“I did,” she complains. “But I can’t remember him, no matter how hard I try. With a fire like that, one can change immensely.”

“I don’t remember the Capital being set on fire.”

“It wasn’t the Capital,” she smiles sadly. “It was the town I was born.” She laughs. “You look confused.”

“Well, yes. I didn’t know the Capital’s daughter came from somewhere other than the Capital.”

“Oh, yes. I’m not the Capital leader’s daughter by blood, you see, although very few people know that. He adopted me.”

Her history amazes me. I doubt even Han and the Nights know this. “He saved you from a fire.”

“Yes,” she nods. “He had visited the town where I was from after it was set on fire. He found me in a ruined city that was still burning. I was delirious. The only thing I recall is that I was trying to find my way out of the burning streets, but the number of people who lay dead on the floor, and the smell of it – it traumatized me.” Her hands are shaking. “I must have lost consciousness. And with it, I lost part of my memory.

“When I came to and I couldn’t remember some of my past when the Capital leader questioned me, the doctor explained that my body was rejecting the areas of my life that were most important. I remembered moments, but I didn’t remember places. I remembered people, but I didn’t remember faces.”

This is impossible. There is no way her story would sound familiar. It is unthinkable that she is who she seems to be.

She is not Ada.

“The Capital leader didn’t have to keep me, but he adopted me and told me I was his second chance. He had a son, but he had let that son go because he was a coward. He didn’t want to be that way anymore. I’m his promise, in a way. A reminder.” She shakes her head. “But his promise can’t even remember from where she came.”

If it were Ada, I would have recognized Nari at first sight. Four years is not a long enough time for me to forget her face. I could never forget her. If Nari is Ada, then there is only one reason I did not know her immediately. That fire must have altered her.

“And the boy?”

“I don’t know,” she says. “He left me. I only know that he taught me how to fight. He was the one who gave me the knife you have now.”

“Do you remember his name?” I ask, my voice fraught. I seek only one response. If she says the right thing, then my hunch will be proven.

“Of course. It was too unique to forget.” She looks at me. “His name was Zee.”