The thudding echoing around the room was beginning to wear on Ānníng’s nerves, and he struggled to open his eyes. He was asleep again before he could discover the source. Moments later, he awoke to an eerie feeling he wasn’t alone. He leveled his breathing and relaxed his eyes so he could slowly open them to look around.

 Before he could focus on what he saw, he bolted straight up and stared at the figure sitting on the edge of his bed. The sniffing and a muffled sob drew him back to his senses, and he could see it was Mĕilì. He assumed the thudding had been her knocking on his door.

 She looked at him in fear and uncertainty as she continued to cry against the stuffed toy.

 “Mĕilì?” he said groggily. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and cleared the congestion from his throat. “What’s wrong, angel?”

 He held her hand as she tried to explain between nervous sobs.

 “I had a bad dream,” she cried. “I woke up and everything was so dark, I couldn’t see.”

 She cried harder and fell to the bed beside him before he could react. He caressed her arm before crawling over her to stand. He covered her with the blanket and sat on the edge to pat her back.

 “Forgive me,” he said. “I forgot to have someone light the candles when it turned dark.” He cursed himself under his breath at his mistake. “What did you dream, angel?”

 She pulled the blanket up to her neck and grabbed onto his arm from beneath it.

 “My mother,” she sobbed. “The fire,” she added. “I don’t want to go back to my father,” she cried loudly. “Please, don’t make me go back.”

 He had to brace himself so he wouldn’t fall when she jumped up and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck.

 “I’ll be good,” she cried against his shoulder. “I’ll never cause you trouble. You don’t have to buy me anything anymore. Please, never send me back. Never send me away.”

 He held her tightly and stroked her back to comfort her. “Shhh … I’ll never return you to your father. I swear it, angel. Shhh …”

 Mĕilì began to quiet herself at his promise, and she lowered her arms to hold him around his waist. She became distinctly aware he had on no tunic. As awkward as it made her feel, she didn’t want to leave his arms.

 Ānníng rocked her and kissed the top of her head. Her tears were soaking his skin and he wondered what she could have dreamed to make her so afraid. Was it the truth of what happened that day?

 She sighed deeply and sat straight to wipe her eyes. She looked down at her tiger and rubbed its silk ears.

 “Why would Grandfather make Mother marry Father?” she asked quietly. “Everyone knows he’s a bad man. No one likes him except his friends. Why would Grandfather do that to his daughter?”

 She looked up at him in question as she wondered why her own father would do the things he had done to her. He brushed away the hair from her face and held one of her hands.

 “Your grandfather was strictly adherent to the traditional ways,” he answered. “It was for politics and nothing more. Your uncle and my father were both angry about the arrangement. My father requested he be assigned to her as a personal guard, but King Jiān refused. He didn’t want to jeopardize the political relationship he had with your father by insulting him, as though a personal guard would insinuate he couldn’t protect his wife.”

 “So your father wanted to protect my mother like you’re protecting me,” she replied.

 She smiled a little at the correlation and he smiled in return.

 “I suppose so,” he said as he stroked her hand with his thumb.

 The room suddenly lit up with a flash of lightening, and thunder rumbled across the sky. Raindrops echoed across the courtyard as they hit metal surfaces. He watched her look toward the ceiling and the closed windows as the wind howled through the corridor.

 “You can sleep here tonight if you want,” he offered, patting her hand. “I’ll take the floor.”

 She watched him stand and go to a trunk beside one end of the bed. He pulled out a thick blanket and a pillow, and then set a place on the floor nearby. He returned to her and straightened what would be her blanket for the night. She moved herself beneath it as he guided her to lie back down.  

 “Get some sleep, angel,” he told her with a kiss to her forehead.

 She nodded and watched him lay down only a few feet away. He straightened his blanket and closed his eyes to the wind and thunder outside. The brief flashes filtering in through the white, oil-soaked fiber windows allowed her to see every part of him that was uncovered.

 He was handsome and she knew it wasn’t only she who thought so. When he stood at the gate of her father’s manor, servant women hovered to the side and behind columns to stare at him. She often noticed Niăo sneaking peeks at him and blushing as she quickly looked away before being caught.

 It wouldn’t matter to her if he were ugly. He was her savior above all else. Still, she couldn’t help but sigh as she watched his bare chest rise and fall and remembered how it felt beneath her cheek.

 She squeezed her eyes shut to stop her mind from wandering into thoughts she wasn’t ready to accept. She forced herself to think of her mother, instead.

 She rolled onto her back and looked up at the ceiling. She needed to talk about the dream, but he was already asleep. She sighed again and thought about the rabbit. It was her secret confidant since the day her mother was taken away. She held the tiger high as another flash of lightening lit the room. It would be her new friend to talk to.

 Looking back at Ānníng, she watched to be certain he was sleeping. When she was sure, she quietly moved aside her blanket and tiptoed into the bathing room. She sat on the other side of the bathtub in a little nook where she believed he wouldn’t hear her.