The evergreens bordering the mountain trail creaked as they swayed through the early morning breeze. Prince Zhāng Jié Qiáng closed his eyes and leaned back on his horse to breathe in the crisp dawn air. He yawned and stretched away the stiffness from a night of sleeping on the cold hard ground.

 “Sore?” his guard asked from his horse beside him. He laughed and shook his head when the prince refused to answer. “We could have stayed at an inn if we had kept to the plans.”

 It was a complaint Jié Qiáng had heard since the second day of their journey, and he laughed.

 “You sound like a pampered princess,” he teased. “You’re a soldier and my guard. I know you’ve slept in worse conditions.”

 Yáng Ning laughed in return at the lighthearted insult.

 “I’m only thinking about your safety, your highness,” he smiled. “This isn’t the route you left with King Zhāng. It’s, also, too close to hostile territory. If anything happens, no one will know until we’re withering corpses.”

 Jié Qiáng’s servant cleared his throat nervously as he looked around.

 “You’re scaring Yŭ,” he laughed. “Your concern is warranted but the enemy is looking elsewhere right now. They’ll either be at the main road we would routinely use or the secondary route I left with Father. This is the safest path and it will get us to Yīng Kingdom’s capital a few days sooner than they expect. I want to disrupt any falsified appearances of a kingdom with honorable intentions.”

 Yáng Ning watched Yŭ visually scour the lush landscape for signs of danger, more so for self-preservation than protecting his master. He was dedicated to his station but not the seasoned fighter Yáng Ning believed should have accompanied them on this uncertain journey. He shook his head in frustration as he returned his attention to the road ahead.

 “You know we can’t take the princess this way on the return trip,” he cautioned Jié Qiáng. “A carriage won’t make it across some of the rocky and narrow terrain.”

 Jié Qiáng nodded in agreement. “We’ll take the main road to appear less conspicuous,” he informed him. “Since we’ll be dressed as commoners on our way to sell goods, the main road is the logical choice.

 She shouldn’t have much with her. Both kings agreed the less supplies to conceal, the safer we will be. Not even an exchange of dowry and wedding gifts. No one outside of the royal family knows the wedding is this soon, so we have to keep up appearances that nothing important is happening at the palace.”

 “I wonder what the princess thinks of all of this,” Yáng Ning pondered. His tone was laden with sympathy for the new bride. “As a girl, she will never have this experience again. She’s had to exchange the welcome parade and ceremonies for the safety of the world.”

 He glanced to his left to see the reaction of the prince. He knew there was no love but surely, there would be compassion.

 Jié Qiáng sighed loudly as he thought of his guard’s attempt to illicit feelings for his unwanted bride. He suddenly laughed, startling both of his companions.

 Glancing at them as they looked at him in question, he explained, “I was just recalling the queen’s reaction to the marriage contract.”

 “Which part?” Yáng Ning asked.

 “The wedding,” the prince replied, still smiling. “She was horrified that Father agreed to a clause forbidding red at the ceremony, including our wedding clothes. She believes Father is already kowtowing to the enemy for such nonsense.”

 “Why would King Yīng insist on something so arbitrary?” Yáng Ning wondered.

 It was an odd request when red was the customary color for most kingdoms, not only their region. It symbolized good fortune, loyalty, and fertility, and was a vital element to begin a successful marriage.

 Jié Qiáng shrugged indifferently.

 “Something about a bad memory,” he replied. “I couldn’t care less. It could be funeral white as far as I’m concerned.”

 Yáng Ning watched him a moment longer as they rode on in silence.

 “You’re never going to let her go,” he remarked, soliciting an almost angry glare from Jié Qiáng.

 “Why should I?” Jié Qiáng snapped and glared at him in challenge of a rebuttal.

 Yáng Ning only shook his head and looked around to inspect their surroundings.

 Yŭ watched both men from his position behind them and waited for one of them to continue. He was curious about their abrupt hostility toward each other. He was almost certain the “her” had nothing to do with the bride, which intrigued him.

 After moments more of uneasy silent riding, he decided it must be something serious. He had only been with the prince since he returned from battle a year ago, so perhaps it was something to do about a past incident neither liked to speak about.

 “Who will accompany Princess Mîn Jíng?” Yáng Ning attempted to alter the course of their discussion before Jié Qiáng had time to dwell on the girl he lost.

 “No idea,” Jié Qiáng answered simply.

 Remembering his guard only cared about him and his future locked in a situation he couldn’t avoid, he relaxed a little and softened his tone.

 “Details of the journey have been cryptic as to avoid any leaked information,” he added. “All I know is it will be someone close to the king who can be trusted to return to him with any messages from Father.”

 “You sent spies to Yīng kingdom to learn about the royal family,” said Yáng Ning. “You never told me what they found. Did you learn anything interesting?”

 Jié Qiáng looked around at the forest as the trees began to thin. They were nearing the bottom of the mountain and getting close to their destination.

 “Father sent them,” he corrected. “I didn’t pay much attention. I think there is an older brother or two by the queen. I don’t know about the concubines,” he answered. “Her mother was the queen, but she died when the princess was thirteen. Oh, she went to a Daoist school for most of her childhood.”

 “I would say that’s interesting,” grinned Yáng Ning. “Attending a Daoist school as a girl usually means becoming a Daoist nun. You’re getting a pure girl with a big brain. Poor thing.”

 Jié Qiáng looked to Yáng Ning in question.

 “You’re feeling sorry for me for having a smart wife?” he wondered.

 Yáng Ning laughed.

 “Not you,” he corrected, “her! How will you understand half of your conversations?”

 Jié Qiáng made a kicking motion toward his guard’s leg but was avoided when the horse moved aside. Both men laughed as their destination came into view over the horizon.

 “We’ll be there by early afternoon,” Jié Qiáng announced.

 Yáng Ning watched as Jié Qiáng’s face became gloomy once again. He knew the reason and hoped it wouldn’t interfere with his behavior at the palace.

 “Stop worrying,” Jié Qiáng said without turning his gaze from the capital looming in the distance. “I can be dutiful while looking for my true wife.”

 Yŭ’s attention was piqued as his master seemed to return to their previous conversation.

 Yáng Ning sighed loudly.

 “You’re going to continue your search even while you’re married?” he questioned in disbelief. “I was there, Qiáng,” he dropped formalities and used his familiar nickname, turning his focus from guard to best friend. “She was beautiful and genuinely good hearted, but she was only a passing novelty. You’ve been obsessed with her for two years, and it’s only earned you your father’s wrath and apathy while arranging for another marriage. It’s time to let her go.”

 When his loyal guard changed his tone to that of his worried friend, Jié Qiáng knew he spoke from the heart and meant well. However, nothing he or anyone said would ever make him stop trying to find her.

 “She’s my little crane, Ning,” he replied with a mix of determination and desperation in his voice. “I can’t explain it but I fell hopelessly in love with her that night. I’ve never felt so strongly about anyone. I will do as I vowed and marry her the moment I have her.”

 “And your wife?” Yáng Ning asked.

 “I’ll have her status moved to concubine,” Jié Qiáng answered, as though it would be so simple a task with a peace alliance attached to the marriage.

 “Don’t worry,” he said as he looked to Yáng Ning and understood his uneasiness. “I won’t mistreat the princess. She was thrown into this the same as me. My guess is she’s been just as miserable these last months thinking about this day. I’m certain she’ll be grateful this will be treated as a contract marriage with no other requirements than our names on a paper.”

 Yáng Ning looked back at Yŭ to see him surprised at a conversation he couldn’t understand and said nothing more. When Jié Qiáng pushed his horse to a faster pace, they followed his lead. They kicked their horses to a gallop to clear the distance to the palace as quickly as possible.