Second Year
Twelve times now the men have harvested their yearly crops since you were born. Another couple of harvests and your uncle Quan will have to start looking critically at all the young men who speak to you.
Do you know the state he was in when he couldn't find you in your chambers this morning? He pulled me away from my work to go looking for you. Naughty girl.
But perhaps he doesn't know you as well as he should. I found you in a moment, dancing in the gardens to music only you could hear, the hems of your too-long robes rippling about your ankles. You turned, calling giddily to me over your shoulder, lost in an eddying pool of girlish fantasy and euphoria that, perhaps, pulled me in deeper than I realized. I heard your laughter, but with her voice, and your footsteps, but with her feet.
I loved her, you know. In the way a vassal loves his lady, because I could do no more, and she deserved no less. You seem like you understand that as you twirl your way over to me and take both my hands in yours. They're warm. What you say, however, startles me. So childlike, simple, yet so certain…
"Someday, I'm going to marry you."