“Oh, very well.
I will marry him.”
My sisters’ eyes went round.
Everyone knew how hopelessly I adored Ninth Young Master Cui: his literary gifts, his youthful grace.
I had led his horse, ground his ink, and made an utter fool of myself over him.
Why would I now agree to help our aunt the empress build her faction by marrying Pei Yao, that Turkic bastard neither of his parents cared for?
“Quick, tell Father!
Sanniang has agreed!”
My eldest sister reacted at once.
Afraid I might change my mind, she loudly applauded my decision and sent a servant off with the news.
The others recovered, hastily put on smiles, and clasped my hands from either side.
Such a sensible girl, they told me.
I was bound to go far.
I knew none of them would accept this splendid opportunity if it were offered to her.
But for me, it was already the best future I could hope for.
After all, in that dream, I had fought against it.
