The little moth bounced around the lantern as if it were dancing for Mĕilì. She had lit the rice paper-lined decoration to see the lovely paintings glow on the walls, but the fluttering creature stole her fascination. When it attempted to dive down into the fire, she had to scoop it out and rest it on a nearby scarf.

 “You must never go into the flame, little moth,” she told it quietly, memories always burning in the back corner of her mind.

 “Your highness?” called out a voice behind her, and she jumped.

 She spun around on the floor cushion and stared as Qīn'ài and Niăo entered the main room. She held the tiger close and glanced around to find a place to get away from them. She didn’t dislike them. She just wasn’t ready to speak with them or even acknowledge their existence. She missed Shàn and didn’t want to let anyone else into her fragile heart.

 “We heard you speaking, your highness,” Qīn'ài said. “Did you need something?”

 She looked down and chewed her bottom lip as she shook her head.

 “It’s been hours since the general left,” Niăo remarked. “You’ve been in your room all day. Would you like to go for a walk?”

 She shook her head again and twisted the tiger’s tail around her hand.

 “Are you hungry, your highness?” asked Qīn'ài as she stepped closer.

 Mĕilì watched the maidservant’s feet shuffling closer, and she backed away on her knees. She shook her head briskly in answer, hoping it would be enough to satisfy them and they would leave.

 A sudden commotion at the door drew their attention, and they watched it open. As soon as Mĕilì saw Ānníng enter, she jumped up and ran passed the maidservants and into his awaiting arms.

 Ānníng dropped the boxes and bags he brought inside as she ran across the room. He caught her as she fell against him and held her close when she started to cry.

 “What happened?” he asked angrily with an accusatory glare at the maidservants.

 “I don’t know, General,” Qīn'ài honestly answered. “We only walked in a moment ago to see if her highness needed anything. We sincerely meant no harm to her. Please, forgive us if we wronged her in any way.”

 He watched them bow and breathed deeply as Mĕilì quieted.

 “What’s wrong, angel?” he asked her as he stroked her hair.

 “I missed you,” she whispered tearfully.

 “All right, all right,” he soothed and patted her back. “I’m home. Let me bring in your things and we can sit and talk.”

 She nodded as she pulled away and sniffed at more tears threatening to fall.

 “They didn’t do anything wrong,” she said softly when the maidservants began to leave. “I was only afraid.”

 The maidservants bowed a final time before stepping to the side to give the couple privacy.

 “I know, angel,” he replied patiently.

 He pulled in the bags and boxes he dropped on the floor. Chéng arrived just then with more bags and boxes. Mĕilì watched with large eyes as the pile of goods from the market grew. 

 Chéng stopped beside her as soon as his arms were empty and looked down at her reddened eyes.

 “Are you all right, your highness?” he asked worriedly.

 She nodded and hugged her tiger as he patted her shoulder.

 “These are for you,” he said as he handed her a basket from the floor. It was filled with fruits and nuts. “The families we visited heard about what you did to save the rest of us. They wanted to thank you and welcome you.”

 Mĕilì took the basket and looked up at Ānníng, who was speaking with the servants that had just made a final delivery. He smiled at her as he sent them away.

 “All of this is yours, as well, angel,” he said and motioned to everything they brought in.

 She set the basket on a table beside her and sat on the edge of her bed. She had never seen so many things for one person. She had never received bundles of anything new.

 “This is from me,” Chéng told her as he reached into his robe.

 He chuckled when she smiled in expectation of candy. Instead, he pulled out a small embroidered pouch and handed it to her.

 She held it and looked over the pretty design of pink and purple flowers embroidered over a silk background of bright blue. The smell of plum blossoms filled the air around her.

 “Thank you, Brother Chéng,” she said softly while he tied it onto her wrist.

 His smile broadened and he looked at Ānníng with a laugh.

 “I’m big brother!” he stated proudly, and Ānníng smiled and shook his head. “I’ll leave you two alone. I know little sister missed her husband.”

 He bowed to them both and closed the doors behind himself.

 “Why is there so much?” she asked as Ānníng sat beside her. “Thank you but I don’t need all of this.”

 He brushed her unbound hair behind her ear and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

 “You were raised to believe you don’t deserve more than the clothing on your back, one bowl of rice a day, and a floor in a dark storage room for a bed,” he said quietly. “I know it will take time for you to accept, but that was all a lie.”

 She looked at him and furrowed her brow. She knew she was mistreated but she still managed to survive with a few things.

 He huffed a bit and turned more to face her. Setting the tiger onto the bed, he took her hands into his and continued.

 “Angel, every person needs more,” he said. “No matter if it’s royalty or poor country dwellers, everyone has more than you were forced to make due with. There is nothing wrong with accepting gifts to make you healthy and happy, especially when those gifts are from your husband. Not even your brother,” he grinned and winked, and she blushed.

 “I told you once before to get used to this,” he continued as he lifted her chin to look at him. “I’m going to treat you as you should have been treated your whole life. I know your mother would have wanted you to have these things. If she were with you, she would have bought most of this already.”

 Her lip started trembling until she couldn’t hold back any longer. She cried into her hands, and he pulled her across his leg to rest on his lap.

 “Father never would have allowed it,” she sobbed. “Mother made anything I needed. She made my rabbit.”

 She cried at the memory of it being thrown into the bonfire to get rid of the blood scent. She held the tiger closer, and he rocked her and patted her back.

 He held her as she let go of another moment of sadness. It angered him that her mother, his dear friend, had been treated so badly. There was nothing wrong with a mother making a few things for her child, but as a princess, she shouldn’t have been treated as a servant.

 When her crying turned into sniffles and sort of hiccup sounds, he pulled her away to look up at him.

 “Are you ready to look at my gifts?” he asked with a tender smile. “I did my best to find things you would like. I’m eager for you to see them.”

 She smiled in return for his effort to make her happy and nodded. He took her hand and pulled her to the floor in the center of the piles of goods, then immediately began handing her items as soon as she sat down.

 With each new piece of clothing she unwrapped, she “oohed” and “aahed” as if it was the grandest thing in the kingdom. There were slender boxes with hairpins of enameled silver, gold, jade, and wood. There were a multitude of belts and pouches. He had even bought her jade tassels, jade bracelets, and little jade statues of flowers and animals. 

 When she was done opening the smaller gifts, he moved them aside for the two maidservants to put into clothes cabinets or on shelves for her to arrange later. He pulled over a large carved box and opened the lid.

 Inside was a set of the most magnificent writing tools she had ever seen. There was an ink stone in the shape of a large leaf, various colored ink sticks, a beautifully constructed ink brush stand, and a set of brushes in a multitude of sizes. In a lower compartment were sheets of mulberry and rice paper.

 She blinked furiously to keep herself from crying because she knew she couldn’t use them.

 Before he noticed her sad reaction, he brought across a long, wide object wrapped in thick wool and another long object that was slender and wrapped in a fur pouch. She watched curiously as he untied both and carefully removed the contents. The largest was a guqin and the smaller was a carved bamboo flute.

 She breathed deeply at yet more things he wasted money to buy her.

 Again, without realizing the disappointment growing on her face, he pulled over a final bundle. It contained bolts of silk, silk thread of every shade, and everything else she would need for embroidery.

 He finally looked up to see her reaction, expecting to see delight and perhaps a humble blush. What he didn’t expect was the pain in her eyes and tear-streaked face.

 “Mĕilì?” he said worriedly, and she started sobbing.

 He quickly shoved everything aside and pulled her into his arms. He swallowed hard at how easy it was for anything to elicit tears and self-doubt. He supposed it was the realization that she wasn't as worthless as she'd been made to believe.

 “What happened?” he asked as she refused to look up at him.

 She turned away from the gifts and started to crawl across the floor to the bed.

 He felt her reaction was beyond humility or this coerced idea she didn’t need or deserve to be spoiled. He crawled after her and sat beside her as she leaned against the bed and held her tiger close.

 “Angel, if something here upset you, tell me,” he gently ordered.

 He brushed her hair away from her face so he could see her clearly.

 “I can’t read or write,” she cried against the tiger’s stuffed belly. “I don’t know how to play a guqin or a flute or any instrument. I can’t even sew.” She cried harder and he pulled her into his arms. “The only thing I can do is sit in my room staring at walls and bugs and waiting for someone to visit me. Then I don’t know if it will be someone nice or if I’ll be punished for something again.”

 He rocked her and looked toward the side of the room where the maidservants stood. Qīn'ài and Niăo were both wiping their eyes as they watched and listened. He shut his eyes tightly as he thought of leaving her alone most of the day.

 What he had told Chéng was true. He knew they would be called away sooner rather than later. Her father wouldn’t sit in the shadows for long waiting for an opportunity to strike back at the king, him, or her.

 He had told the lieutenant she had to get used to him not being around, but she was already used to being alone and lonely. He was going to become another person to abandon her when she needed him to help her heal. How much longer would she have to suffer?

 He pulled away and held her face in his hands. He stared into her eyes and a million things rushed to be said at once. He chose one to summarize them all.

 “I love you.”