Sweet boy, clever boy, his hands and his tongue then, and how he works them. Tamaiu knows the trickery of men, she worked the pleasure quarters before she rose to rank. She remembers. No flattery under the sun is new, and yet he peppers his with the right persuasions.

He would like to leave in glory. And she, having already spoken her share, might yet at least reap some benefit.

"Beautiful boy, Tamaiu's boy, I ask two lesser things of you. If you agree to them both, you will have your name."

The first is coin, inevitably: soon, the ports will open again, and all the vessels stranded outside will bring in droves of frustrated, ill-appeased merchants. She must welcome them as her precious boy says, in glory — the glory of a communal, en masse tryst, enhanced by the finest wines and opiates. Of course, Mingyu should attend the orgy.

And secondly: when he leaves, he must take with her a girl of sixteen, fresh-faced, destined for better, and drop her off at the first citadel that knows prosperity and peace. He must look after her and provide for her, and watch for her health and her honour. She is Tamaiu's niece.