Chapter 7
On our wedding day, the elders Pei Yao and I bowed to were his grandparents.
His parents had spent years guarding the northwestern frontier. At home there was only an eldest uncle who served in the imperial guard, and several aunts by marriage.
The whole household had to assemble to receive the decree. Once it was delivered and the eunuch departed, pleased with his silver, the aunts exchanged glances and looked at me with one accord, their eyes full of sympathy. One patted my shoulder, another shook her head and sighed, and another took my hand and whispered: had I chosen a trustworthy maid from my dowry? Before the army left, I ought to have her facial hair threaded and establish her as Pei Yao’s bedchamber maid, so he could take her with him in a few days.
I could not have felt worse. I had not even had a chance to spend proper time with this fine young man, and already I was supposed to arrange a bedchamber maid for him?
But this was common in great households, particularly among the military nobility. I assumed his uncles had done the same. His aunts probably meant no harm, so I forced a smile.
“A servant born in your own household is easier to manage than some woman from outside. At least she won’t climb over your head. That is all I will say. Think it over, Seventh Young Master’s wife.”
It felt as though a great stone had lodged in my chest. I could barely breathe.
After supper, Pei Yao and I returned to our eastern courtyard. Once everyone else had withdrawn, I forced a smile and raised the subject. “You will be marching soon. Have you chosen someone to attend you? If you have no suitable person, what about Qiuying?”
The Xia family was not grand, and we had few capable household-born servants. Qiuying had come with my dowry; such an arrangement had always been a possibility.
Pei Yao blinked, then shook his head. “Qiuying is your personal maid. How could she accompany me to war? I have someone suitable already. Don’t worry.”
Who?
An attendant he already had, or someone his grandmother had chosen?
I secretly clenched my fists until my nails dug into my palms. With a bitter taste in my mouth, I forced another smile. “Who is this person? I will prepare her luggage.”
He nodded. “Very well.”
Then he clapped his hands and called toward the door. “Sanbing, come and pay your respects to my wife.”
There was someone outside?
I stared into the darkness. Could this woman be trained in martial arts? She was remarkably good at concealing herself at night.
And what sort of name was Sanbing? Hideous.
Then a brilliant white crescent appeared in the thick darkness. As it drew closer, I realized it was no crescent moon at all, but the Kunlun slave’s gleaming teeth as he grinned.
His gift for hiding in darkness was certainly natural, I had to admit.
He entered and bowed with his hand to his chest, humble and respectful. Pei Yao said, “Sanbing has extraordinary strength. He can fight lions and tigers, and he is an excellent diver. He will be a great help on this voyage. But Liaodong is bitterly cold. He cannot endure it bare-chested and barefoot. Would you arrange several sets of warm clothes and some leather boots for him, in case he needs them?”
Looking at the row of dazzling teeth in Sanbing’s dark face, I hardly knew what to say. “Husband, when I said someone to attend you, I meant… that sort of service.”
His blue eyes were utterly innocent. “What sort?”
Did he… truly not know?
“The sort Sanbing certainly cannot provide…”
The Kunlun slave suddenly spoke. “My lady, Sanbing can!”
What?
“Sanbing knows many things. Sanbing will take very good care of his master!”
What exactly did he think he understood? Stay back!
I looked at the short, wiry slave, dark as ink, then at peerlessly handsome Pei Qi. I stepped forward and placed myself between them.
Sanbing looked wounded by the suspicion on my face. Still, he pulled himself together, raised his chin proudly, marched over, and picked up my sewing basket.
There were scissors in there. Surely he wasn’t going to take his own life?
“Sanbing, please don’t get upset…”
He did not so much as glance at the scissors. Instead he took a scrap of cloth and an embroidery needle, expertly pulled out some thread, threaded the needle, and set it flying. Before long, he had stitched a small, crooked flower.
Pei Yao’s mouth fell open. When Sanbing displayed the finished flower, he applauded. “Excellent!”
I looked back at the Kunlun slave. Somehow his teeth seemed brighter than ever.
I could not possibly continue the discussion of bedchamber maids.
Best not to sully Pei Yao’s innocence.
He was practically a child.