The horse was real.
Worse, so was the child.
I stood in the courtyard before sunrise and stared at both of them.
The horse was a small grey gelding with a white muzzle, one drooping ear and the general expression of an old man who had been dragged into somebody else's family dispute.
Beside him stood a boy of perhaps twelve.
The boy looked miserable.
I looked at Lü Bu.
He was already mounted.
Of course he was.
"That's his horse."
Lü Bu followed my gaze.
"Yes."
The boy lowered his head.
I looked back at the horse.
Then at the boy.
"You're taking a child's horse."
"You are."
I turned slowly.
Lü Bu's face was completely straight.
There were men who needed killing.
Unfortunately, this particular man was famously difficult to kill.
Behind me, Xu An coughed into his sleeve.
I ignored him.
"Does the horse have a name?"
The boy answered quickly.
"Little Grey, Young Master."
Little Grey looked older than Dong Zhuo's political career.
"Does he run?"
The boy hesitated.
"Sometimes."
"When?"
Another hesitation.
"When he wants to."
Excellent.
A horse after my own heart.
I put one hand on the saddle.
Little Grey did nothing.
I put more weight on it.
Nothing.
Promising.
Then I looked at the boy.
He was trying very hard not to look at me.
Not because he was laughing.
Because he was nervous.
That realization came unpleasantly fast.
I was Dong Zhuo's son asking questions about his horse.
To me, this was humiliating.
To him, it might be dangerous.
"Will you be in trouble if I take him?"
His head snapped up.
"No, Young Master."
Too fast.
I glanced at Lü Bu.
"He'll be returned today," Lü Bu said.
Good.
I looked at the boy again.
"If Little Grey comes back traumatized, blame General Lü."
The boy's mouth twitched.
Lü Bu said nothing.
"Not me."
The boy lowered his head again.
This time, I caught the smile.
Better.
A voice came from behind.
"Young Master."
I turned.
Qiao'er stood beneath the covered passage holding a wrapped bundle.
She had not dressed for the road. Pale robe, hair pinned neatly, hands folded around the bundle.
Even half asleep, I noticed she looked good.
My standards remained excellent.
"What is that?"
"Breakfast."
"I ate."
"You complained."
"Those are different things."
"Madam said you are to take it."
I held out my hand immediately.
Qiao'er gave me the bundle.
Lü Bu watched this exchange.
I chose not to care.
"Did Mother say anything else?"
"Yes."
I waited.
Qiao'er looked toward Little Grey.
Then back at me.
"She said not to embarrass yourself."
Xu An looked away.
I stared at Qiao'er.
"She said that?"
"Not exactly."
"What exactly?"
Qiao'er lowered her eyes.
"She said to listen to General Lü and come home safely."
Ah.
There it was.
For some reason, that was much worse.
I looked at the food in my hands.
"Tell her I will."
"I will."
Qiao'er hesitated.
Then, more quietly:
"Young Master."
"Hm?"
"Hold the saddle when you mount."
I looked up.
She was serious.
Of course she was.
She had probably watched Original Me fall off enough horses to develop opinions.
"I know how to mount a horse."
Xu An coughed again.
I turned.
"Do you have a disease?"
"No."
"Then stop."
Qiao'er stepped back.
Very proper now.
There were stable hands nearby. Soldiers. Lü Bu.
Private Qiao'er had vanished.
"Have a safe journey, Young Master."
I sighed.
"You're enjoying this."
Her eyes remained lowered.
"I would never."
Liar.
I handed the food to Xu An.
Then I mounted Little Grey.
It required only one stable hand.
I considered this a triumph.
Luoyang looked less impressive from the back of a horse.
Mostly because I was busy trying not to fall off.
Little Grey walked.
I preferred walking.
Whenever the road allowed it, Lü Bu rode beside me while several armed men followed at a respectful distance. Xu An had somehow acquired a horse of his own and seemed perfectly comfortable on it.
Another betrayal.
We passed through streets already filling with carts, servants, soldiers, vendors and officials' retainers.
Inside Father's residence, I had been the household embarrassment.
Outside it, things changed.
People moved aside.
A merchant bowed before I had even looked at him.
Two men stopped arguing as our escort approached.
A woman pulled a small child closer to her skirt.
Nobody did anything dramatic.
That was what made it unpleasant.
They saw the soldiers.
Then Lü Bu.
Then me.
And they knew whose people we were.
I had always imagined being born into power would feel wonderful.
It did.
Right up until other people noticed.
Little Grey plodded onward.
Lü Bu spoke without looking at me.
"Young Master."
"General Lü."
"Do I frighten you?"
My hand tightened on the rein.
What a wonderful morning.
"I am currently several feet above the ground on an animal."
"That was not my question."
No.
Of course not.
I glanced at him.
He was watching the road.
"Yes."
He looked over.
I shrugged.
"What answer did you expect?"
"Most men deny it."
"Most men are trying to impress you."
"And you are not?"
"Absolutely not."
His brow moved.
I explained.
"If you think well of me, Father may decide I should spend more time with you."
Silence.
"Which would be terrible."
Lü Bu stared at me.
I realized there were several possible interpretations of that sentence.
I quickly pointed at his horse.
"You wake before dawn."
A small change around his eyes.
Good.
Recovered.
Probably.
He looked forward again.
"You have avoided me since I entered your father's service."
Original Me, once again, had left me an excellent inheritance.
"I avoid many admirable men."
"Why?"
"They tend to have expectations."
That got him.
A brief sound.
Almost a laugh.
Damn it.
Stop enjoying me.
"You are honest about your faults," he said.
"I have too many to conceal efficiently."
This time he did laugh.
Only once.
Quiet.
I hated how much better that was than him staring at me.
Then he said:
"You were not merely afraid yesterday."
My mood died.
"What was I?"
"Suspicious."
Sharp bastard.
I looked ahead.
The road beyond the denser streets opened gradually toward fields, compounds, military traffic and estates west of the city.
"I had a headache."
"You looked at me before I spoke."
"Perhaps I disliked your face."
"Do you?"
I considered it.
"No."
"Then?"
He really wasn't going to let this go.
I sighed.
"You are dangerous."
"So is your father."
"Father likes me."
Lü Bu looked at me.
I looked back.
For several breaths, nothing happened.
Then his mouth moved.
Not much.
But enough.
I had made Lü Bu smile with a joke about nepotism.
History had already gone wrong.
The western property was disappointingly ordinary.
I had expected, perhaps unfairly, that anything owned by Dong Zhuo would involve walls, armed guards and stolen treasure.
Instead there were storehouses.
Several long buildings.
A yard.
Carts beneath a shelter.
Oxen.
Workers.
A smell composed mostly of grain, animals and earth.
My future country estate was becoming less romantic every minute.
A middle-aged man hurried out to meet us.
He bowed deeply.
"Young Master. Commandant Lü."
"Steward Chen," Lü Bu said.
Good.
A name without interrogation.
I was improving.
The man straightened.
Someone stood a pace behind him.
A woman.
I noticed her immediately.
Naturally.
She was older than Qiao'er. Mid-twenties, perhaps.
Her robe was a muted reddish brown, the sleeves tied back enough that they would not interfere with work. Her hair was arranged simply, without the ornaments I had seen on wealthier women in the household.
She had strong brows.
Beautiful eyes.
And a mouth that looked much too serious for the rest of her face.
Then I noticed the ink on two of her fingers.
Interesting.
Steward Chen followed my gaze.
"My daughter, Chen Lan."
She bowed.
"Young Master."
Her voice was low.
Calm.
But she was afraid.
I saw it when she straightened.
Not maidenly nerves.
Not flirtation.
Fear.
Ah.
Right.
Dong Zhuo's lecherous son had arrived at her father's storehouse with Lü Bu and several soldiers.
If I were her, I might also have concerns.
I stopped looking.
This was becoming inconvenient.
Beautiful women were much easier when they didn't think you could destroy their family.
"Your daughter works here?"
Steward Chen stiffened.
Chen Lan answered before him.
"I keep some of Father's tallies, Young Master."
I looked at the ink again.
That made sense.
"Good."
Her eyes lifted slightly.
"Then you can save me."
Silence.
Steward Chen looked alarmed.
Chen Lan looked confused.
I pointed toward the buildings.
"Father wants me to understand all this."
Nothing.
"I would prefer not to."
Xu An lowered his face behind me.
Chen Lan's fear cracked.
Just a little.
Good.
"Show me the grain."
There was an amount of grain written in the register.
There was another amount of grain in reality.
These two numbers were not friends.
I sat beneath the open side of a storage building with several bamboo slips spread before me.
Steward Chen knelt opposite.
Chen Lan sat beside him.
Lü Bu had remained standing because, presumably, chairs feared him too.
I tapped one line.
"This says there should be twelve hundred shi."
"Yes, Young Master."
I looked toward the storehouse.
"Is there?"
Steward Chen hesitated.
I looked at Chen Lan.
She looked at her father.
That was an answer.
"How much?"
"Young Master," Steward Chen began, "there have been several distributions since the last full tally."
"How much is here?"
"Some records have not yet been entered."
"How much is here?"
His forehead had begun to shine.
Chen Lan spoke.
"Nine hundred and forty, perhaps a little less."
Her father turned sharply.
She did not look at him.
I looked at the register.
Twelve hundred.
Nine hundred and forty.
Not ideal.
"Where did the rest go?"
"Military requisitions," Steward Chen said quickly.
Lü Bu spoke behind me.
"Whose?"
Everything stopped.
Chen Lan's hands tightened in her lap.
Her father's face went pale.
Oh.
There it was.
This was no longer accounting.
If somebody had been taking Father's grain without proper authorization, Lü Bu was exactly the wrong man to casually give a name to.
I raised my hand.
"Later."
Lü Bu looked at me.
Steward Chen looked at me.
Chen Lan looked at me.
I sighed.
"If I ask who before I know how much, we'll spend the morning finding people to blame and still have no grain."
Lü Bu said nothing.
I looked back at Chen Lan.
"Nine hundred and forty?"
"Approximately."
"Approximately is acceptable. Lying is not."
Her eyes sharpened.
Good.
Fear was fading.
"How much of that can be moved?"
This time she answered faster.
"Not all."
"Why?"
"Some sacks need replacing. Some grain should not be moved."
"Why not?"
A pause.
Then:
"Seed."
Her father shut his eyes.
Ah.
There it was.
"How much?"
"One hundred and twenty shi."
"Included in the nine hundred and forty?"
"Yes."
"So eight hundred and twenty."
Chen Lan looked at me.
"Yes."
I tapped the register.
"And the carts?"
Steward Chen answered.
"Eleven."
Chen Lan said nothing.
I looked at her.
She looked back.
"How many?"
Her father went very still.
"Six can take the road today."
There it was again.
I almost smiled.
I knew this disease.
My previous life had called it inventory.
An organization owned twenty things.
Three were broken.
Four were somewhere else.
Two had been promised to another department.
One had disappeared during the reign of a manager nobody remembered.
The report still said twenty.
Human civilization was beautiful.
"Oxen?"
"Enough teams for five carts now," Chen Lan said. "Another pair is in the southern fields."
"So today, five."
"Yes."
Steward Chen looked increasingly miserable.
I leaned back.
He thought I was uncovering his failures.
I wasn't.
For the first time all morning, I understood exactly what I wanted.
"If I leave this place today," I said, "I don't care how much grain Father owns."
They waited.
"I care how much grain can follow me."
Chen Lan's expression changed.
Lü Bu's did too.
Damn.
I continued before either could make this political.
"My estate."
Nothing.
"The one I intend to spend the rest of my life avoiding work on."
Xu An coughed.
Better.
I pointed at the register.
"Keep the official amount. Beside it, I want what is actually here. And beside that, what can actually move."
Steward Chen stared at me.
"Three figures?"
"Unless you would prefer I discover a broken cart while Mother is sitting in it."
That landed differently.
Chen Lan lowered her eyes.
I remembered yesterday.
Mother.
Jewelry.
Silver.
Grain.
Li Ru listening far too carefully.
Wonderful.
"I mean eventually."
Nobody had asked.
Stop speaking.
Chen Lan touched one of the slips.
"What of the seed grain?"
I looked at her.
That question mattered.
Not to the ledger.
To her.
If soldiers came asking for supplies, seed grain was still grain.
Until spring arrived and everyone discovered why it had been seed.
"Leave it."
Steward Chen blinked.
"Young Master?"
"It's seed."
"If another requisition comes..."
"Then show them the other grain."
"And if they demand it?"
I glanced toward Lü Bu.
He had become extremely interested.
Wonderful.
"Then tell them it has been reserved."
"By whom?"
Fuck.
I should have stayed home.
"By me."
Silence.
Chen Lan looked at me fully now.
No fear.
Not exactly.
Something far more troublesome.
Respect.
I hated respect.
It led to expectations.
"For planting," I added.
"Yes, Young Master."
"And set aside enough ordinary grain for Mother's household if she needs to travel west."
Lü Bu's eyes moved to me.
I felt them.
Chen Lan asked, "How much?"
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
How many people were in Mother's household?
I had no idea.
Hundreds?
Dozens?
Did guards count?
Servants?
Animals?
How much grain did one person eat in a day in 189?
My secret strategic genius had encountered arithmetic.
"Enough."
Chen Lan waited.
"That is not a quantity, Young Master."
Xu An turned away.
I stared at her.
Beautiful.
Competent.
Already troublesome.
"How unfortunate."
Her mouth twitched.
"Find out how many people Mother would travel with. Then calculate thirty days."
"Yes."
Thirty days sounded reasonable.
Why?
No idea.
It was a month.
Months were respectable.
I stood.
My legs objected.
My thighs objected.
Parts of me I had not known could hurt began submitting formal complaints.
Chen Lan noticed.
She looked down.
Too late.
I had seen it.
"You may laugh."
Her head snapped up.
"Young Master, I would not."
"You want to."
"No."
Liar.
Lü Bu said, "The horse walked the entire way."
I turned slowly.
Chen Lan's lips disappeared.
Xu An looked away.
Even Steward Chen developed sudden interest in the floor.
I looked at Lü Bu.
"This is becoming a pattern."
"What is?"
"You humiliating me in front of attractive women."
Silence.
Chen Lan went completely still.
Her father looked like his soul had left his body.
Ah.
Perhaps not the most socially delicate sentence.
I cleared my throat.
"I meant..."
There was no rescue.
None.
Lü Bu looked at Chen Lan.
Then at me.
"You noticed?"
I stared at him.
Then Chen Lan made a sound.
Tiny.
One breath of laughter she failed to stop.
That finished me.
"Prepare the figures," I said with what dignity remained. "Especially the carts."
"Yes, Young Master."
She bowed.
Still hiding the smile.
Cruel woman.
I left before ancient China produced another one.
We were halfway back to Luoyang when Lü Bu drew his horse beside mine.
Little Grey continued walking at the same speed he had maintained since sunrise.
I had begun to suspect he was immortal.
"Young Master."
I looked at Lü Bu.
"No."
He frowned.
"You haven't heard the question."
"I have learned from experience."
His mouth moved.
Damn him.
Then the amusement disappeared.
"How soon?"
My hand tightened on the rein.
"How soon what?"
"Before Lady Song needs thirty days of grain west of Luoyang."
Ah.
That.
I looked ahead.
The road stretched toward the capital.
Carts.
Travelers.
Soldiers.
Nothing unusual.
Not yet.
"I don't know."
Lü Bu watched me.
That answer was true.
I knew what history said came next.
I did not know exactly when.
And after yesterday, I was beginning to understand something much worse.
History wasn't a calendar anymore.
I was inside it.
"I don't know," I repeated.
Lü Bu looked back toward the storehouses.
"Yet you counted the carts."
My stomach sank.
There was no accusation in his voice.
Only interest.
That was worse.
I searched desperately for something useless to say.
Something cowardly.
Something that would put me safely back where I belonged.
"I also noticed Chen Lan."
Lü Bu looked at me.
I smiled.
There.
Lecherous idiot.
Perfect.
Then Lü Bu said:
"So did I."
I stopped smiling.
He rode ahead.
I stared after him.
No.
Absolutely not.
We were not becoming rivals over women.
I had enough historical problems with Lü Bu already.
Little Grey plodded beneath me.
I leaned forward.
"Can you go faster?"
The horse ignored me.
Wonderful.
Even the horse had stopped taking me seriously.