Coleridge leans forward, setting on the bench in a quiet, secluded spot in the palace gardens, with bamboo trees and wisteria surrounding us.
"Let me see if I understand this correctly. You want me to be a poet contributor for your 'podcast' salon?"
Cognizant of the art of the deal, I smile. "It's just an idea for now. I'm sure the response to your poem and your segment on today's show will be through the roof."
Daji pours on the charm. "We wouldn't want to take you away from Xanadu and your elevated status here. I know only too well that poaching someone else's poet is not exactly a smart business move. Especially if it's a Chinese emperor devoted to the arts."
I sweeten the deal. "But we really do not have much of a Xanadu presence at the Wendigo Residence Inn. Obviously, Kubla Khan has his duties that prevent him from visiting our inn regularly. In the last century, he has only booked three stays at our inn. Members of his court have stayed with us more frequently."
