As the caravan rode through the village market, citizens started applauding the return of the soldiers. Mĕilì looked up at Ānníng in question.

 “They always show their support for us when we return,” he explained. “Many of them moved here to be near my manor and the training ground because they seek our protection from the bandits and growing unrest in the kingdom. A lot of the soldiers’ families live here and nearby, as well.”

 She tried to peek around him to see through the slit of the curtain, and he laughed softly when she began to climb over him to get a better view. He lifted the curtain for her to look out and she drew back in fear.

 “It’s all right, angel,” he smiled. “No one here will hurt you.”

 She tried to smile at his assurance, but she couldn’t feel safe enough yet to let strangers see her. She slid down from leaning across his shoulder and curled up again at his side. He patted her arm and held her close.

 “Where is General Zhànshì?” a man asked from nearby.

 “Inside,” they heard Chéng answer. “We had a minor skirmish with some bandits and he’s tending to an injured ally.”

 “Is the general all right?” asked a woman in concern, followed by others evidently fearful of the general’s condition.

 “He isn’t injured,” Chéng answered.

 To calm the crowd, Ānníng leaned his head out and nodded to reassure them.

 “I’m all right,” he called out and the crowd applauded.

 He leaned back in and straightened the curtain. He looked down to see her staring at him, and he patted her arm again.

 “We’ll be home soon,” he told her.

 She sighed and rested her head against him. “Home.” Not that terrible place where she grew up, the place that caused her mother’s death. Not that terrifying place she was almost sent to if Shāngrén Yán had his way. Home … his manor … the place people crowded around to feel safe, the place he and her uncle declared would be her sanctuary.

 The sound of the vendors and patrons began to die down as they moved away from the market. The voices were fewer and the sounds were more pleasant, like a laughing child, chickens clucking, and trickling water from some unseen source.

 “We’re here,” he told her as the new sounds began to put her to sleep.

 He pulled away from her and stood to go to the curtained doorway.

 “I’ll be right back, angel. Stay here until I come for you. I’ll bring you something to wear over that,” he said as he motioned to the bedclothes.

 She nodded and he hurried out. He noticed Chéng had already dismounted and gone inside, so he stood by the carriage to guard her and wait.

 “General,” called out a feminine voice from the manor doorway. 

 Mĕilì carefully peeked out through the edge of the curtain and watched an elderly maidservant hurry up to greet Ānníng.

 “Năinai!” he said as he opened his arms and hugged her closely.

 “Is this his grandmother?” Mĕilì wondered to herself at the greeting.

 “It’s so good to have you home, General,” the woman smiled as she embraced him.

 The woman noticed the carriage curtain move and pulled away from him to ask.

 “My bride,” he answered before she could speak. “I’ll explain everything inside,” he chuckled at her shock.

 He looked through the gate to see Chéng running toward him with clothing balled up in his hand. He left the woman who had raised him and took the clothes.

 “I’m sorry,” Chéng told Ānníng as he handed him the simple robes. “I had to get something from one of the maidservants. You have no other women’s clothes in your manor.”

 “It’s fine for now,” Ānníng replied. “I can buy her better ones later.”

 Chéng nodded as Ānníng leapt back onto the carriage and went inside. He sat on the seat across from Mĕilì and unrolled the bundle.

 “Chéng found you a set of maidservant clothes,” he told her. “I’m sorry. These aren’t suitable for my wife, but it's the best I can do for now.”

 Mĕilì shook her head.

 “It’s all right,” she replied. “I’ve always worn such clothes, but it’s different this time. I’m safe and that’s all that matters.”

 He swallowed shamefully when she smiled at him as if he handed her a queen’s royal robe.

 “I’ll get you something better by the end of the day,” he told her with determination in his voice.

 She smiled at him and slipped into the light pink robe. She sighed in wonder as she slid her hands gently over the sleeves.

 “It’s so soft,” she breathed, “and pretty.”

 He leaned back and crossed his arms as he watched her dress. She was so impressed with mere servant’s garments, he furrowed his brow in wonder of what else she was used to. When he met her, she had on an old maidservant’s uniform. Was that normal for her? In fact, none of the servants seemed to be wearing suitable attire. Sōngshù treated his own child like one of his neglected servants.

 Mĕilì couldn’t stop smiling at the little bird embroidered on the left side of the robe as she tied the belt around herself.

 “Can I keep this?” she asked him in a small pleading voice.

 She touched the bird and continued to glide her hand over the material.

 “Have you never had anything nicer?” he asked without answering.

 He wasn’t about to have her dress like she was his maid.

 She smiled.

 “Not when Uncle came to visit,” she answered. “On those days, I wore beautiful robes. Shàn, my mother’s maidservant, would wash my hair and make it pretty. She had pretty pins she would put into the knots and braids. She cleaned my fingernails and even made my face bright and shiny. Uncle was always so happy to see me in my pretty new things.”

 Ānníng watched her face glow with her bright smile as she recounted the rare occasions of being treated like the princess she was. He wanted to smile with her, but he was too angry that she learned to be grateful for the act of deception for the benefit of the king.

 Then, he saw her smile begin to fade and she looked away. She began to chew her bottom lip, and he quietly sighed when he knew there was more she didn’t want to say.

 “What else?” he asked softly.

 Mĕilì chewed her lip and wrapped her hair around her hand. “My father was always furious about the money used to make my uncle believe I was taken care of. After Uncle would leave, Father would punish me. He would burn the clothes so I couldn’t wear them again and beat me for the waste.”

 Ānníng swallowed back the anger and sadness as he listened to her timid voice change from joy to heartbreak. He watched as she anxiously twirled her hair around her hand, unwrapped it, and twirled it again. He remembered seeing her do the same with the long ears of the toy rabbit, a gift from her mother and his dear friend.

 He leaned forward and took her hands in his.

 “You’ll never be treated in such a way here,” he promised. “You’ll always have beautiful clothes and beautiful things, and I’ll give you a maidservant who is just as kind as your Shàn was to you.”

 She looked up at his compassionate smile and down at his large hands. Her hands fit completely in his, and for the first time in her life, she felt safe and wanted rather than terrified and hated.

 “I know I look frightening after all you’ve endured,” he told her as he watched her. “I have this scar on my face, I’m still young but my time on the battlefield shows in my ruggedness, and my hands are calloused and scarred. You have my word that I will never hurt you and I will never allow anyone to hurt or humiliate you. I’ve promised you already, but I will say it as often as you need to hear it so you know it’s true.”

 She looked up at him as he squeezed her hands tenderly. She pulled them away from him and left her seat to wrap her arms around his neck.

 “You aren’t frightening to me,” she said softly in his ear. He wrapped his arms around her as she sat on his leg and continued. “I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

 His arms wrapped around her even more as he felt himself start to cry. He fought against the burning in his eyes, but it was all too much. The image of her covered in the bandit’s blood and her body covered in scars infuriated him and tore at his soul. She was gentle but damaged and all he wanted was to take away everything that had given her pain.

 He blinked away the tears and cleared his throat.

 “We should go in, angel,” he told her quietly. “I don’t want you to be out here when a crowd of welcoming and curious villagers arrives.”

 She nodded and sat straight up on his leg. She wiped her tears with her sleeves and stood when he pushed her to stand. He was the first to leave the carriage. When she emerged, he helped her down the steps of the footstool.

 She looked cautiously around at the servants beginning to arrive at the gate to greet their lord. They stared at her and mumbled, and it made her too nervous to walk any farther.

 Ānníng looked back toward the soldiers that had escorted the carriage. “You’re all dismissed. You may return to your homes. I would appreciate if those of you close to the three men we lost would visit their families and express my condolences. Let them know we’ll bring their bodies home by tonight. I’ll visit the families soon.”

 “Yes, General,” they all replied and left for home.

 He looked over at Mĕilì when he felt her tug at his arm. She was trying to position him between his servants and herself. She was afraid again and he reached around to pat her on the back.

 “It’s all right,” he told her softly. “Come with me.”

 She held his arm again and followed him as he brought her to the elderly woman he had greeted earlier.

 “Mĕilì, this is head maidservant Qīn'ài,” he introduced. “I call her Năinai because she raised me.”

 Mĕilì glanced around his arm to look at the woman, who was smiling warmly at her. She looked down, not ready to trust anyone else. Her husband and the lieutenant were enough for now.

 Ānníng gave his head a slight shake at her bashfulness. He knew it would take time, but he didn’t like to see her afraid in his home.

 “Năinai, this is my wife,” he introduced. “I know it’s a bit of a shock,” he continued as the other servants looked at each other in surprise. “King Rénlóng blessed our marriage when I returned from this last battle. She’s his niece, Princess Yángguāng Mĕilì Xīng.”

 At the shocking revelation, they all bowed low to her. She gasped and looked up at him. No one had ever bowed to her as they were doing.

 “This is ordinarily how people show respect to someone like you,” he told her quietly, realizing from her expression that she’d never experienced it.

 Her face turned red from embarrassment. It didn’t feel right to her somehow, and she hid behind him even more. He shook his head again and pulled her with him through the double doors if his manor.

 As he looked around the courtyard of the home he hadn’t lived in for almost half a year, he became irritated. It seemed as if the staff had taken a six-month vacation in his absence. He was tired from the journey, from the skirmish, and still needed to help his new wife settle in. He didn’t have time to oversee clean up and repairs that should have been taken care of before he returned.

 “Why is this place not clean?” he roared at the servants still bowing as the princess and their master walked through. He was so angry, he didn’t feel Mĕilì jump at his yelling. “What have you been doing all this time?”

 Mĕilì began to slowly, quietly inch away from him. She carefully removed her hands from around his arm and tried to distance herself from whatever he planned to do next. She had heard the same angry words from her father, followed by servants being beaten.

 “Forgive us, General,” said a man who bowed again as he spoke. “We’ve worked hard just as if you were here, but you returned when the weather has been inclement and unpredictable.”

 “You’re blaming this disaster on weather?” Ānníng shouted at the audacity of such a pathetic excuse. “Are you saying it’s my fault for catching you unprepared and lazy?”

 The servants all bowed and tried to plead for his forgiveness. Mĕilì began to breathe heavily, and she watched them as she had watched her father’s servants so many times.

 “I brought my wife expecting to show her a beautiful new home, and I find this!” he exclaimed as he lifted up a broken board from a window.

 It was one of many scattered about the courtyard.

 Mĕilì couldn’t take any more. She was terrified he truly was like her father. Perhaps he cared about her, but it didn’t excuse treating the servants like filthy animals. Before he could criticize something else or worse, hurt them the way she believed was about to happen, she hurried to stand in front of him.

 Ānníng watched in shock as Mĕilì fell to the ground before him and knelt, then bowed as she cried.

 “Please, don’t punish them for me,” she sobbed. “No one should suffer for me. It isn’t their fault. Please, don’t hurt them.”

 The servants stared once again in shock as they watched the general quickly pull her to her feet.

 Ānníng held onto her as she continued to cry.

 “I’m not going to hurt anyone, angel,” he said as he pulled her into his arms to comfort and calm her. “My staff knows I’m all bark and no bite,” he said quietly. “I’m exhausted and worried about you. I swear, no one is being punished.”

 She quieted as he spoke and wiped away her tears. She pushed away and looked around.

 “But they didn’t do anything wrong,” she said as she nervously twisted her hair around her hand. “Look,” she said as she motioned to the broken wood around them. “A storm did that. Look,” she said as she pointed to all the leaves on the ground. “The wind is becoming stronger as autumn grows near. Look,” she continued as she directed him to look at barrels and wagons on another path. “They were trying to clear this away when you arrived and interrupted them.”

 Ānníng sighed and smiled as she defended his servants with logic and reason.

 “Please, don’t be angry anymore,” she asked in her small, soft voice.

 Her lip began to tremble and he wiped away a tear before it rolled down her blushing cheek.

 “You’re right,” he told her. “I was too quick to jump to conclusions, and they didn’t deserve it. Know this, though, angel, I would never treat my people the way your father treats his. I hope you realize quickly that there is nothing similar between me and that tyrant.”

 Mĕilì looked up at him as he rested his hand on the side of her head and stroked her hair. She nodded and smiled back at him when he smiled at her.

 Turning once again to the servants, he apologized.

 “I’m sorry for my bad temper,” he said. “It’s been a long few days. I need rest and I want to see to it my wife is taken care of.

 I know you all have questions. I have a few things I need to tell you, as well. I’d like to see you all here in a few moments. Send word to any servant not here presently. They are required to be here, as well. I’ll return shortly.”

 The servants gave him a nod in acknowledgement of his order and went back to work on the courtyard while they waited.