My mother wanted to discuss my marriage.
For perhaps three full breaths, I believed Heaven had finally apologized.
“You're serious?”
Mother looked offended.
“Did you think I had come to discuss horses?”
“Please don't.”
She sat across from me in her private room, a small stack of folded notes beside her. Qiao'er stood near the window, hands folded neatly before her.
I eyed the notes.
“How many?”
“Four families worth considering.”
Four.
This was excellent.
Yesterday I had learned that my father poisoned empress dowagers.
Today there were four potential wives.
Life contained balance.
Mother picked up the first note.
“The eldest daughter of Colonel Cheng. Seventeen. Her mother comes from a respected family in Hedong. She is said to be graceful, educated, and capable in household affairs. Her father commands two thousand men.”
“Is she beautiful?”
“Her father commands two thousand men.”
“Mother, you keep answering a different question.”
“I keep answering the important one.”
I looked at Qiao'er.
She gave me nothing.
Traitor.
Mother continued.
“Colonel Cheng has been with your father for years. The marriage would strengthen an existing bond, and his family has property near the Wei.”
“Two thousand men?”
“Approximately.”
“No.”
Mother lowered the note.
“You haven't even seen her.”
“I have seen two thousand men. I didn't like them.”
“She would not bring them into your bedchamber.”
“That is reassuring, but I assume her father remains attached.”
Mother stared at me.
I had perhaps phrased that badly.
“The family remains attached,” I corrected.
“Yes. That is generally the purpose of marriage.”
That was the problem.
Modern marriage came with in-laws.
Han marriage apparently came with operational strength.
Mother moved to the next note.
“The second daughter of Master Fan. Eighteen. His family has served in Luoyang for generations. Her eldest brother is a Palace Attendant, another serves under the Minister of Works, and one of her maternal uncles has close ties to the Yuan clan.”
“No.”
This time Mother didn't even finish unfolding the note.
“You reject her because of the Yuan connection?”
“I reject the sentence.”
“What sentence?”
“The one you just said.”
Mother's mouth tightened.
“She is reputed to be very beautiful.”
I looked back at her.
“Why did you not begin there?”
“Because beauty does not preserve a household.”
“It can improve one considerably.”
Qiao'er shifted her weight.
I ignored her.
Mother set down the second note.
“You told your father you wanted a beautiful wife.”
“I did.”
“You also said you intended to take me west, carry silver, and prepare grain.”
“I was having a complicated morning.”
“So I assumed you wanted a wife who would be useful.”
I recoiled.
“Mother.”
“What?”
“Never use that word when discussing my wife.”
“Useful?”
“It spreads.”
For one dangerous moment, her expression almost changed.
Almost.
Then she chose the third note.
“This family may suit you better. The daughter of a landholder from Fufeng. Her family is wealthy. No close relation holds major office in Luoyang.”
I became interested.
“Continue.”
“Her father maintains several hundred retainers and has longstanding ties with western military households.”
Interest died.
“How many is ‘several hundred’?”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because I am beginning to suspect every beautiful woman in the empire comes with a reserve army.”
Mother stared at me.
“You are Dong Zhuo's son.”
“That should make my requirements easier. We already have an army.”
“You cannot choose a wife based on how few armed relatives she possesses.”
“Why not?”
“Because no respectable family advertises weakness.”
There was something deeply wrong with civilization.
I leaned toward the remaining note.
“Who is the fourth?”
Mother did not hand it over.
“The daughter of Magistrate Wei. Sixteen. Educated. Quiet by reputation. Her family is comfortable but not wealthy. Her father's career has been respectable rather than distinguished.”
I waited.
“No troops?”
“Not personally.”
“Famous brothers?”
“One elder brother.”
“What does he do?”
“He studies.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“Dangerous?”
Mother's patience finally showed signs of structural damage.
“He studies the Classics.”
“Those men become officials.”
“Eventually.”
“So the threat is delayed.”
Qiao'er looked out the window.
I could see the side of her face.
Very still.
Suspiciously still.
I pointed at her.
“You have seen one of these women.”
She turned back.
“Two.”
“Which two?”
“Lady Fan and Magistrate Wei's daughter.”
“Which is prettier?”
Mother closed her eyes.
Qiao'er considered the question with entirely unnecessary care.
“Lady Fan.”
“How much prettier?”
“Enough that Young Master would probably forget about her uncle's connection to the Yuan clan.”
That was useful information.
“For how long?”
“Until someone mentioned it again.”
I sat back.
“Then she's not pretty enough.”
Mother looked between us.
“This is how the two of you discuss marriage?”
“No,” Qiao'er said. “Usually Young Master discusses women with less concern for their uncles.”
There it was.
I should never have invited her into this room.
Mother picked up all four notes.
“You have rejected a military ally, an old Luoyang family, a wealthy western household, and a perfectly respectable magistrate's daughter whom you have not even seen.”
“I didn't reject the last one.”
“You called her brother a delayed threat.”
“That was praise.”
“It was not.”
“It was relative praise.”
Mother placed the notes on the table.
“Then tell me what you want.”
Finally.
A reasonable question.
I had actually thought about this.
“A beautiful woman.”
Mother waited.
“An intelligent one.”
“That is better.”
“One who can run a household, because I have recently discovered that households contain accounts.”
Qiao'er lowered her eyes.
I continued before she could contribute.
“Pleasant company. Not obsessed with ceremony. Her family should have enough money that marrying me does not look like a rescue operation.”
Mother nodded slowly.
“And?”
“Preferably western.”
Her eyes changed.
Only slightly.
“And?”
“No father with troops.”
The nod stopped.
“No powerful brothers.”
Now Qiao'er was watching me too.
“No famous uncles. No old clan with half the court owing them favors. No relative with a heartfelt desire to restore anything. Ideally nobody in the family has ever looked at the Han Dynasty and thought, ‘I could fix her.’”
Silence.
Mother stared at me.
Qiao'er stared at me.
I frowned.
“What?”
Mother spoke carefully.
“You want a wife from a wealthy family with no significant military strength, no powerful relatives, and little influence at court.”
When she said it like that, it sounded bad.
“I want peaceful in-laws.”
“You want wealth without influence.”
“That sounds worse.”
“It is what you described.”
“I described a family unlikely to drag me into anything.”
Mother's gaze remained on me.
“Western.”
“Yes.”
“Away from the great clans of Luoyang.”
“Yes.”
“With enough wealth to maintain itself.”
“Yes.”
“But insufficient strength to threaten yours.”
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
This was happening again.
“Mother.”
She waited.
“I am trying to choose a wife whose father cannot accidentally start a war.”
“You think fathers accidentally start wars?”
"After the last three days, I am no longer ruling anything out."
Qiao'er looked down.
Not laughing.
Just hiding something behind lowered lashes.
I refused to give her the satisfaction.
Mother was still studying me.
That was becoming uncomfortable.
“Why no great clan?” she asked.
Because the great clans were about to become some combination of rebels, hostages, enemies, martyrs, opportunists, and names in books I had only half remembered.
Because Yuan Shao had already gone east.
Because Cao Cao existed somewhere in Luoyang.
Because history was filling the room around me one famous surname at a time.
I couldn't say any of that.
So I gave her the truth I could afford.
“Because I want to retire.”
“You are nineteen.”
“I would like to begin early.”
“To what?”
“Doing very little.”
“You already do very little.”
“Then I have experience.”
She stared at me for a long moment.
I thought I had won.
Then she said, “A marriage into a strong family would make retirement safer.”
No.
Absolutely not.
“A marriage into a strong family means their enemies become my enemies.”
“And their friends become your friends.”
“I have enough friends.”
Mother's eyebrows rose.
I reconsidered.
“I have enough people who know my name.”
That she accepted.
She picked up the fourth note again.
“Magistrate Wei's family may be closest to what you describe.”
“No army?”
“No army.”
“No Yuan relations?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Any connection to Father?”
“The magistrate paid his respects after your father entered Luoyang.”
That meant nothing.
Everyone with survival instincts probably did.
I tapped the note.
“And she's pretty?”
Mother looked toward Qiao'er.
So did I.
Qiao'er had evidently become our household authority on this subject.
“She is attractive,” Qiao'er said.
Mother nodded.
I waited.
That was all.
I leaned toward her.
“That's a very measured answer.”
“You asked whether she is attractive.”
“I know what I asked.”
“And I answered.”
There was something here.
“How attractive?”
Qiao'er looked at Mother.
Mother looked back at her.
I immediately distrusted both women.
“What?”
Qiao'er finally said, “Young Master saw her last year.”
I froze.
“No.”
“At Minister Zhao's spring gathering.”
I searched Original Dong Yu's helpful inheritance.
Nothing.
“Did I speak to her?”
“Yes.”
That was worse.
“What did I say?”
“You asked whether she had an elder sister.”
Mother turned very slowly toward me.
I looked at Qiao'er.
“You could have protected me.”
“You asked in front of her mother.”
I put a hand over my face.
There were moments when death in 192 seemed mercifully distant.
“Did she have one?”
Qiao'er answered immediately.
“She was married.”
I lowered my hand.
“That explains the question.”
“It did not improve it.”
Mother pushed the note away.
“Perhaps Magistrate Wei's daughter should be spared.”
“That seems premature.”
“You forgot meeting her.”
“I have forgotten everyone.”
Mother's eyes narrowed.
Right.
Still sensitive.
“Recently,” I added.
She said nothing.
I changed direction.
“So. Someone like her.”
“Someone like the woman you forgot after asking about her sister.”
“That part is optional.”
Mother gathered the notes again.
I had expected this conversation to involve choosing between beautiful women.
Instead I had spent most of it eliminating military blocs.
This century was exhausting.
“Can you find more?” I asked.
Mother looked offended again.
“These are respectable matches.”
“I didn't say they weren't.”
“You rejected three.”
“One had two thousand soldiers.”
“Her father had two thousand soldiers.”
“That is not the distinction you think it is.”
She set the notes down harder than before.
“Marriage joins families.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
That was why I was terrified.
Mother examined me.
“Your father would favor the Cheng match.”
“Of course he would.”
“He trusts the colonel.”
“I am delighted for him. He should marry into the family.”
Mother's face changed.
I immediately remembered that Father already had wives and concubines and that this sentence could theoretically lead somewhere terrible.
“Forget I said that.”
“I already intend to.”
Good woman.
She reached for her tea.
I relaxed slightly.
Then a thought arrived.
Not a pleasant one.
“Mother.”
She looked over the rim of the cup.
“If you send a matchmaker to one of these families... can they refuse?”
“Of course they can.”
The answer came naturally.
Too naturally.
I looked at her.
“Can they?”
Her cup stopped before reaching the table.
The room became quieter.
I did not repeat myself.
Mother's expression slowly changed.
Not because she hadn't understood the question.
Because she had.
A month ago, a magistrate could decline a marriage proposal from a powerful household politely.
Today my father controlled the capital.
The emperor was a child he had placed on the throne.
Yesterday an Empress Dowager had died on his orders.
What did “no” mean when Dong Zhuo's household came asking for your daughter?
Mother set the cup down.
“Your father would not punish a family for refusing you.”
“I know.”
That wasn't the problem.
I looked at the four folded notes.
“Would they?”
Mother said nothing.
There was my answer.
I leaned back.
The room no longer felt amusing.
“If they think refusing me might cost the father his office, or bring soldiers to the gate, or simply make Father remember his name…”
I stopped.
Qiao'er had gone very still.
Mother's face was unreadable.
“I don't want that.”
“You asked me to find you a wife.”
“A wife.”
I looked at her.
“Not a hostage.”
Nothing moved for a moment.
I hadn't meant it dramatically.
That was simply what it would be.
A woman brought into this house because her family had looked at my surname and decided fear was safer than refusal.
Beautiful or not, every smile afterward would make me wonder.
Mother looked down at the notes.
When she spoke again, her voice was quieter.
“You have never worried about frightening women before.”
That landed harder than I expected.
Original Dong Yu.
The man whose body I had inherited had been lazy, spoiled, lecherous, annoying.
Not a monster.
But a nineteen-year-old son of privilege did not need to be a monster to make people uncomfortable.
“I probably should have.”
Mother's eyes came back to me.
I had no joke for that.
Neither did she.
After a while, she folded the four notes together.
“I won't send a formal proposal.”
Something in my chest loosened.
“But,” she continued, “I can ask discreetly.”
I waited.
“Women hear things men do not. I can learn which households are genuinely interested, which daughters are already promised, which mothers would welcome the match and which would not.”
That sounded much safer.
“And if one is willing?”
“I can arrange for the families to meet socially before anything is decided.”
I considered this.
“So you investigate them first.”
“If you insist on describing it that way.”
“And then arrange a supervised meeting.”
“Yes.”
“So this is courtship.”
Mother looked almost insulted.
“No. This is preventing my son from humiliating me in front of four families.”
Close enough.
I nodded solemnly.
“I approve.”
“You were not asked.”
“I approve anyway.”
Qiao'er finally spoke.
“Should I tell Lady Song which women Young Master has already offended?”
I turned toward her.
“How many?”
She looked at Mother instead.
“I'll make a list.”
Mother nodded.
I stared between them.
“There cannot be enough for a list.”
Neither woman answered.
That was extremely concerning.
I was about to defend my younger self when footsteps approached outside.
A household servant stopped beyond the door and announced himself.
Mother allowed him entry.
The man bowed.
“Lady Song. Young Master. The Grand Commandant requests Young Master's presence.”
Of course he did.
Happiness had lasted almost an entire hour.
“Did Father say why?”
The servant hesitated.
“Cao Mengde has left Luoyang.”
I stopped.
Cao Cao.
For a moment, the entire marriage conversation disappeared.
Cao Mengde had left.
History shifted another piece.
Mother watched my face.
“You know him?”
“By reputation.”
That was technically true.
An enormous amount of reputation.
The servant continued.
“The Grand Commandant wishes to know where Young Master thinks he has gone.”
Naturally.
Of course he did.
Yuan Shao had gone east.
Now Cao Cao had gone east.
And I was the idiot who had loudly requested land west.
Somewhere, Li Ru was probably about to find this fascinating.
I had spent the morning trying to avoid marrying into an army.
By noon, Father wanted my opinion on the man who was about to raise one.