She sat up straight and began writing the title as he had for his contract:

“Princess Yīng Mîn Jíng’s Marriage Oath To Prince Zhāng Jié Qiáng.”

“First wish?” she asked as she wet the brush with fresh ink.

 “My wish is that my wife will always have faith in me,” he answered. “No misunderstandings. I need for her to believe in my promises and my oath to love her above all others.”

 Mîn Jíng nodded and began to write:

“I promise to always have faith in my loving husband and believe in his love and loyalty for me.”

Jié Qiáng caressed her back affectionately and continued. “I wish for you to accompany me to every festival in the kingdom and wear your crane mask.”

 She looked up at him and laughed softly:

“I will accompany my husband to every festival in the kingdom. I will wear the crane mask to each and any time he asks it of me.”

“Good girl,” he whispered in her ear as he thought of his plans for the wedding.

 He kissed her temple and moved on to the third item. “My wife must always be herself. She must never pretend to be something else, even for the sake of diplomacy. I fell in love with her just the way she is, and I won’t let anyone take her away from me.”

 She gave him a grateful smile and kissed his cheek:

“I will always be honest in my behavior and appearances. I will never hide my true self, especially from my husband. He loves me for who I am and I will do my best to honor and deserve his admiration.” 

 He hugged her close and thought of another wish. She looked across from the table at her brothers still seated near the door to the cell. Their returned gaze made her breathe a sigh of relief. There was true happiness in their eyes, even from Yǒng Wěi, and it set her mind at ease.

 “Any more?” she wondered as she straightened out the paper.

 “Children,” he announced. He watched her confused expression and laughed. “It doesn’t have to be right away and I don’t even care how many. As long as I get to hold my pregnant wife and tend to her when she needs me, I’ll be happy.”

 She wasn’t sure how to respond. It occurred to her that she hadn’t thought of being a mother. She loved the children in the kingdom, but she never believed she would be suitable to have her own.

 Royal mothers had nursemaids and servants to tend to their children, but she didn’t want that. Having been sent away at such a young age and returning to live without a mother made her hate the idea of a child not having its own mother by its side.

 He noticed worry replace the confusion and lifted her chin to look up at him.

 “Why are you afraid?” he asked gently.

 She shook her head a bit in denial of his suggestion, though he was right. She wondered if her honest answer would disappoint him.

 He tapped his finger on the paper, pointing to the first and last items. She sighed at the oath she had just made to always have faith in him and to always be herself.

 She fumbled with Xiù Xiù’s ears as the rabbit curled up in her lap.

 “I don’t know if I’ll be a good mother,” she mumbled, embarrassed to let her brothers hear.

 Jié Qiáng didn’t reply right away. He watched her silently petting the rabbit, which he had come to learn was her way of blocking out what made her sad or frightened while she contemplated a situation. He brushed a loose lock of her hair behind her ear and caressed her shoulder.

 “I don’t believe in passing a child off to a nanny,” she finally continued, feeling calmer as he tended to her without pressing her to explain, “but I don’t know anything about taking care of a baby or raising a child. I’ve never considered having children as a normal part of being married. I only ever thought of the relationship between husband and wife.”

 He smiled and laughed to himself at her amorous nature. He dared not mention the connection between such a relationship and pregnancy. He supposed she was nervous enough.

 “You needn’t have a wet nurse or nanny raise our child,” he told her. “They can help you without taking him away.”

 She looked up at him and thought about what he said, realizing it was true.

 “I’ll be there, as well,” he added and kissed her on the forehead.

 This talk of parenthood suddenly hit his heart, and he felt elated that his little crane would be the mother of his children.

 Mîn Jíng wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly. She no longer felt afraid of motherhood but instead, overjoyed he would be the father of her children.

 “I don’t know why you’re doubting yourself,” Féng Wěi spoke up. “You take care of my children all the time and do a better job than their nanny. They even love you more than me,” he chuckled.

 Mîn Jíng smiled at her brother for his encouragement, then turned toward the paper again. Before she wrote as he had instructed, she stopped and looked back at him.

 “This is a natural part of marriage,” she said. “You’re wasting a wish.”

 He replied, “You’re right but you should add it, anyway. I want you to remember that I have faith in your ability to be a wonderful mother to our children. It’s my wish. You have to write it,” he told her stubbornly and tapped her nose playfully.

 She rubbed her nose and did as he ordered: 

“I will be a good mother to our children.” 

 She smiled at him and he nodded his approval.

 “What else?” she asked.

 He shook his head and replied, “Nothing more. This is enough for me.”

 She compared their contracts and noticed there was one more on his oath to her. Without asking him to think of another, she wrote it on her own.

 She read aloud as the brush flowed across the paper:

“I promise to never betray my husband’s faith in me. I will forever safeguard his belief in my character, in my abilities, and in my loyalty to him, including my undying love.”

 She set the brush down and smiled at him.

 “Perfect,” he replied and kissed her once again. “You need to sign yours,” he reminded her.

 “Oh!” she exclaimed and picked up the brush to sign.

 When she was done signing her name, she giggled and added, “His little crane.”

 He looked it over and grinned. He pulled over the oath he had written for her and added, “Her black butterfly.”

 “Done?” he asked.

 “Done!” she replied.

 He pulled over two of the envelopes from a small stack Péi had brought. On one, he wrote “Husband’s Oath.” On the other was “Wife’s Oath.” He folded their contracts and slipped them into their matching envelopes.

 After tucking them into his robe, he pushed the table aside, stood up, and moved her rabbit from her lap into her arms.

 “Hold on to her,” he instructed.

 He lifted her into his arms and began walking out of the cell.

 “I’m breaking my wife out of prison,” he teased and carried her passed her brothers and their awaiting staff.

 Mîn Jíng held her rabbit closely with one arm while holding onto his shoulders with the other. She snuggled closer to him and laughed at his remark.

 Their small group followed closely until they reached the outer gates. The energy around them was serene and hopeful. The carriage ride back to the palace was a more promising venture than her anguished visit to the prison.