"If you don't slow down, I'll have you flogged for sure," Little Peach panted, clutching the sleeve of Lin Lang as carts and laundry poles blurred past.
"Flog me," Lin Lang said, grinning, and tugged Little Peach harder. "Then fetch a cup of tea after. I want the one with the orange peel."
"Princess—" Little Peach hissed. "Do you want the patrol to see you tearing through the Upper City again?"
"Watch me duck," Lin Lang said, and slipped between two market stalls so close she nearly knocked over a man selling lacquer boxes.
"Careful!" the man shouted, but Lin Lang waved at him like an apology and kept running.
"You're impossible," Little Peach muttered. "You promised Mother you'd behave in public today."
"I promised Mother I'd be bored in public today," Lin Lang replied. "This is more fun."
A crowd turned as Lin Lang stopped at a stall piled with bright fans. She sampled a red fan, fanned her face dramatically, then tossed a silver coin to the vendor and snatched a different fan.
"Princess, that coin—" Little Peach began.
"Keep it. Buy the boys at the gate a roast." Lin Lang's smile said the command, and Little Peach scrambled, cheeks hot, to obey.
A storyteller on a raised crate was in the middle of a pounding tale when Lin Lang pushed into the teahouse door with a flourish. The First Hall grew louder; steam rose from teapots, paper lanterns swung, and a
