Jinghe Year Fifteen, the ninth day of the fifth month. Light rain.
In the Capital in May, pomegranate blossoms burned anew; beside the Imperial Writing Desk, bridal gifts gathered time and again.
Imperial favor reached beyond the golden throne; one call to ready the bride brought spring across ten thousand miles.
Emperor Jing of Zhou sat behind the Imperial Desk. Memorials stood before him in piles like little mountains, while the Vermilion Brush had lain drying on its rest for half a cup of tea.
Wang Cheng stood to one side, his Fly Whisk resting diagonally against his shoulder, his eyelids lowered.
The emperor was distracted today.
Not because he had tired of governing, nor because he had tired of studying, but because there was happy news.
"Wang Cheng."
"This old servant is here."
"Tomorrow is the tenth already?"
"Yes, Imperial Grandfather." Wang Cheng bowed.
"The auspicious day the Directorate of Astrology chose for sending the bridal gifts is tomorrow."
"Bridal gifts." Emperor Jing of Zhou repeated the words, then chuckled.
"I bestowed the marriage, I appointed the date, and my Empress chose the auspicious days for the Six Rites.
"Now even the date for sending the bridal gifts was drawn up by the Directorate of Astrology at my command."
The emperor turned to Wang Cheng with the ghost of a smile.
"Tell me, Wang Cheng, what other emperor has gone as far as I have?
"I even have to oversee a subject's marriage from head to toe."
At this, Wang Cheng bent a little lower, though the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
"Imperial Grandfather is wise indeed.
"Since ancient times, for the Son of Heaven to preside over a subject's marriage has been an extraordinary favor.
"Ordinary families cannot obtain even one extra glance from Imperial Grandfather,