Chapter 2
I had not lied to her.
I was married.
Slowly, I raised my eyes, unable to keep the past from returning.
For as long as I could remember, I had been alone.
Living alone. Begging alone.
Eventually I drifted into Qingshi and nearly froze to death.
Fortunately, the woman who owned the tavern was kind enough to take me in.
Her surname was Xie. Everyone who came and went called her Madam Xie. She had a son named Wuyang.
To stay alive, I remained in her household as the girl who would one day marry her son.
Life was hard, but there was hot food to eat and a roof to keep out the rain.
That was enough for me.
When I came of age, I became Xie Wuyang’s wife, just as everyone had expected.
Half a year ago, an emergency at the border had led the court to call for recruits.
Xie Wuyang had gone.
When he left, I was already carrying his child.
He told me to wait for him.
So I stayed in Qingshi, tending the shabby tavern Madam Xie had left behind, waiting for him to return.
I waited and waited.
No hoofbeats brought him home. Not a single message reached me.
The first to arrive was this matron in her silks and satins, come to reclaim me for my family.
And so we had reached this moment.
I looked at them, my hand straying unconsciously back to my belly.
Inside was my child with Xie Wuyang.
The one true bond of blood I had in this world.
Shock and fear still lingered on the matron’s face.
Her lips trembled. She wanted to say something.
Calmly, I looked away, toward the bleak street outside.
It was empty. The figure I longed to see was nowhere there.
Their timing was remarkable.
As though they had calculated the very moment.
I stroked my belly and waited.
For her response. For the next pronouncement of this absurd fate.
Her mouth opened and closed. At last, she managed, “I… I must report this to His Majesty and await his decision.”
She all but fled.
The news reached the palace as swiftly as the wind.
The outcome was exactly what I expected.
No audience. No questions. Only a cold decree.
“The marriage is settled. The honor of the imperial house outweighs Mount Tai.” The eunuch’s voice was high and flat.
A bowl of bitter medicine to end my pregnancy accompanied the decree all the way to Qingshi.
Its meaning needed no explanation.
So much for blood being thicker than water. So much for the father who had given me life.
He would not even trouble himself to see me. Those twelve curt characters, so lightly delivered and so crushingly heavy, were enough to condemn my unborn child to death.
Pain swept through me.
“His Majesty says…” The eunuch paused, his gaze passing over my bowed head. “Now that you have been restored to your lineage, you are no longer some country woman. Bury your past and hold your tongue. Should your conduct bring dishonor upon the state, do not blame the law for showing no mercy.”
Such casually spoken words. Such mountainous weight.
I had no right to resist.
I… understood.
Perhaps he was impatient to erase the stain I represented. Perhaps he was simply eager to conclude the bargain.
Before all those watching eyes, I “drank” the medicine.
That same day, His Majesty hastily acknowledged me as his daughter, granted me the title Zhaohe, and bestowed chests full of silk and satin.
Almost at once, the palace seamstresses began working through the night on my wedding robes.
I had never seen fabric so splendid in Qingshi.
Gold and silver threads gleamed like clouds at sunset.
Under my fingertips, it was soft and cool.
Such wealth had never been mine before.
The woman in the mirror was surrounded by pearls and jade, dazzlingly beautiful, like an exquisite doll.
Only I knew that beneath the generous wedding robes, my belly had begun to swell.
Carefully, I smoothed the fabric, concealing it layer beneath layer.
On my wedding day, the palace gates loomed high and the ceremonial guard stood in solemn ranks.
The matron asked whether I had any unfulfilled wish.
“I want to see my father.”
I wanted to ask him myself.
But her expression turned strained and uncomfortable.
“His Majesty… is occupied with affairs of state.”
The meaning was clear.
Even at the last, he would not see me. Perhaps he felt guilty.
Or perhaps I was as lowly as an ant to him.
Simply unworthy of the trouble.
Decisively, I lowered my bridal veil and walked, step by step, toward the jeweled phoenix palanquin.
The wind lifted a corner of my veil.
Just then, a girl in a pale yellow palace gown rushed out from the side. She threw herself before me and seized my hand, tears streaking her delicately made-up face.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s Father’s fault. All of theirs… They’ve dragged you into this mire and ruined your peaceful life…”
I guessed who she was.
The emperor’s legitimate daughter. The empress’s child.
My younger sister.
Princess Changle.
She lifted her face, her eyes swollen red as peaches, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She said that if she were a few years older, I would not be the one marrying so far from home today.
She sniffed, and hot tears struck the back of my hand.
Then she knelt and bowed her head heavily to the ground before me.
She said this marriage would spare the people three years of war.
She thanked me on behalf of the people of Great Zhou.
I had never enjoyed a princess’s privileges, she said, yet I was freeing countless people from their suffering.
I listened quietly.
Her tears were sincere, the only genuine warmth in that deep, cold palace.
But my attention had caught on one thing she had said.
“If I marry him,” I interrupted her sobs, my voice unnaturally calm, “there won’t be any more fighting?”
The little princess stared at me, tearful and bewildered, then nodded instinctively. “Yes… The King of Nanyue promised that if our countries were joined in marriage, there would be no fighting at the border for three years.”
No wonder they had been so eager to find me.
“Oh,” I said softly.
Under the veil, my lips curved in a silent smile.
That was good, then.
A figure suddenly flashed through my mind.
The young man outside the tavern in Qingshi, holding me in a clumsy, solemn embrace before he left. His rough fingers brushing my hair as he said, “Wait for me.”
Xie Wuyang.
And countless young men like him, conscripted and sent toward battlefields they knew nothing of.
If I married him,
the border would be peaceful. Those driven from home would have somewhere to return to. Families torn apart could be reunited.
A sharp pain struck my belly.
Yes. And the children would not lose their fathers.
Instinctively, my fingers pressed against my belly through layer upon layer of splendid cloth.
At that moment, a daring idea came to me.
I wanted to take a gamble.