The Wedding (3)
Every now and then, life hands you a peculiar kind of experience — the sort where you shake yourself silly imagining every possible disaster beforehand, only to go through the real thing and think, Huh, that was it? Unfamiliar first-time things you'd never done before usually fell into that category.
For me, the textbook example was my first part-time job. ...Though of course, there were also ordeals difficult enough to justify that kind of dread. In any case, every time I lived through one of those moments, I came to the same realization: excessive worry does less for you than no worry at all. Worrying, after all, devours mental energy, and too much of it leaves a person worn to rags.
So after a single counseling session with Diaochan, I wiped every worry about the wedding ceremony clean from my head. Her Imperial Majesty had said as much, too — since she would be the one hosting the ceremony, the General-in-Chief need only bring himself. And it was certainly true that no amount of struggling on my part could ever stage a feast grander than the imperial palace. I sent out a stack of invitations announcing that the wedding would soon be held in Luoyang, and after that I did nothing but laze around the house.
"...You really are taking it easy around the house, huh?"
Lü Bu — who had properly moved herself into my household ever since the assassination incident — looked at me and blurted it out. I answered without a care.
"Then of course I should take it easy. You'd rather I live uncomfortably?"
"That's not it, but..." At my perfectly reasonable question, Lü Bu's voice trailed off. "Still, that... you're just way too unguarded."
"Huh?"
What was she on about this time? Don't tell me she was about to lecture me on dressing properly or minding my conduct — some stern sermon on propriety? Just as that thought crossed my mind, Lü Bu spoke.
"What if someone catches you like that? You want the people around here going slack-jawed over you?"
"..."
Bewilderment hit me first, and I couldn't manage a word. Unless someone was wearing love's blinders the way Lü Bu was, surely nobody would react like that.
Oblivious to my thoughts, Lü Bu kept muttering to herself. "This is insane, insane... No wonder these weird women keep throwing themselves at you..."
"Lü Bu?"
"Never mind, hold still! I'm fixing your clothes!"
Striding right up to me, she tugged my loose-fitting top straight and smoothed out the unsightly wrinkles, tidying up my appearance with her own two hands. After fussing over me here and there for a moment, she stepped back a pace with a satisfied look. "There! You look much sharper now!"
"..."
I stared down at myself in a daze. Could Lü Bu, of all people, actually have a knack for looking after someone?
I was already in enough of a bind lately, what with Seo Yeo trying to tend to my every trivial need.
"My lord, it is time to comb your hair."
Having her tidy my short hair each morning was the gentle end of it. It wasn't as though I were sitting down to have a topknot tied or receiving any elaborate grooming.
This was not a world where the Confucian teaching famously summed up as "one's body, hair, and skin are received from one's parents" had sunk its roots so deep that a man would be denounced as unfilial simply for going about without a topknot. That doctrine means, roughly, this: everything born of your body is inherited from your parents, and to treasure it is the very heart of filial piety — a simple lesson against getting hurt and giving your parents grief for nothing. Though I'll admit, stretching it all the way to hair and beards did strike me as a bit much.
In any case, Seo Yeo tenderly groomed even my ordinary short hair — the kind that comes to mind when you picture any man — and then, without a flicker of hesitation, moved on to helping me change my clothes.
"My lord, shall I now attend your bath..."
"There is no need to go that far."
"Then shall I attend your meal..."
"I told you, I'm fine."
Was she planning to turn me into a useless lump who couldn't do a single thing by himself? Honestly, every time I watched Seo Yeo doting on me so tenderly, the thought didn't feel like an exaggeration. But if Lü Bu turned into that as well, on top of everything, I'd be in real trouble.
Seized by a vague unease, I asked her. "Lü Bu."
"Hmm? What?"
"Doesn't looking after me like this get tiresome?"
"...This?" Lü Bu flashed me a grin. "If something this small annoyed me, how would I ever raise a child?"
"..."
"Don't worry." Having said that, she declared with utter confidence, "I may not know much else, but I'm studying hard on how to be a good mother!"
...So this was the power of maternal instinct? It was staggering. Lü Bu, who recoiled at the very word "studying," had taken up learning entirely on her own initiative.
"Really?"
"Really!"
"Hmm..."
Lü Bu wasn't the sort to lie to me. But I was a little curious what her standard for "studied" actually was, so I decided to fire off a few questions. After all, some people skim a page once and call it studying. If hers had been that kind of surface-level cramming, I'd simply have to sit her down beside me and give her a proper education. I started with something every mother-to-be absolutely had to know.
"How do you hold a baby in your arms?"
"You cradle the bottom, and you support the neck carefully, too."
Well, what do you know. She had it down cold.
Since babies can't steady their own bodies, an accident can happen if a parent fails to cradle them properly — and Lü Bu had pinpointed exactly that. It was a fact I had committed to memory myself, ever since I awkwardly picked up an abandoned baby on the street and earned an earful from my mother, who happened to be standing nearby. Had I not been holding the baby at that moment, she would surely have delivered a ferocious smack across my backside. They say parents come with bonus attack power against their own children — and honestly, it might be true. Just imagining it made my back throb.
Marveling at this unexpected side of her, I threw out another question. "...And the one thing a parent must absolutely never do?"
"Leaving the baby alone!"
Hearing that much, I nodded along. Babies are such fragile creatures that, if you dug into the subject properly, the precautions would number far more than one or two. But those were things she could learn in time. At the very least, I could tell Lü Bu was studying earnestly.
Wearing a smile, I asked teasingly, "But childcare studies, all of a sudden? Did something happen?"
"..."
At my question, Lü Bu's face flushed red and she whipped her head away.
...Huh?
At that uncharacteristic reaction, I stopped dead where I stood. "Don't tell me..."
"Wh-what?! N-nothing happened! Really!" Scarcely had the words left my mouth before Lü Bu was frantically shaking her head. "Nothing's confirmed yet!"
"..."
So there is something to be suspicious about.
To the stammering Lü Bu, I reached out and ruffled her hair into a complete mess — my wordless way of telling her to calm down. Word was that women despise having a man muss their hair, whether because it makes them feel like they're being treated like a pet or because it wrecks their hairstyle, but Lü Bu had never once shown a hint of such displeasure.
"...?"
She only blinked up at me with wide eyes, studying why I was doing this. To the puzzled Lü Bu, I said, "If it becomes certain, tell me. I'll give you a proper congratulations."
"...Okay."
Lü Bu, who had been gauging my reaction in case I looked anything less than delighted, broke into a bashful smile.
It wasn't as though I could decide at will whether a pregnancy took, and this world had no decent contraceptives to speak of anyway. If a woman truly didn't want a child, she simply wouldn't share a bed with a man at all. The reason Seo Yeo had toppled me back in Shuchun was that I had left the possibility open right up until that moment. Had I drawn a firm line — that it could never happen, no matter what — even Seo Yeo would have backed down in the end.
"..."
...She would have backed down... right?
That was what I told myself as I gazed into Seo Yeo's unreadable eyes. Then a doubt occurred to me, and I asked her, "Seo Yeo, you're not feeling anything strange like Lü Bu, are you?"
"I, too, as of yet..." Seo Yeo, answering in her usual level tone, abruptly pressed her lips shut.
Her behavior drew a puzzled second question from me. "...Seo Yeo?"
"..."
How long did that silence stretch, I wonder. Seo Yeo, who had trailed off mid-sentence and lapsed into sudden quiet, opened her mouth again. "There is nothing unusual yet."
"...Seems like there is, though?"
"My stomach was merely queasy for a moment."
No, that is exactly the strange part. Isn't that morning sickness?
"Seo Yeo."
"Yes."
A suspicion nagging at me, I asked, "What symptoms does a woman usually show when she's pregnant?"
"...Does her belly not grow?"
"And?"
"...?"
Seo Yeo simply stared at me, her face betraying not the faintest grasp of what I was getting at.
"Good heavens." Lü Bu, having caught what that look meant, said it with her eyes gone wide.
So there was someone else here who needed to hit the books besides Lü Bu. Was this, too, what you'd call her idiot charm? I didn't need to guess: she had surely neglected such studies in her single-minded focus on guarding me. Resolving to summon my mother before long, I clutched my head.
...Then again, how was I going to clean up after all this? I couldn't say for certain, but one thing was clear: come the wedding day, there would be no escaping the imperial palace. Was this what they meant by a room you couldn't leave until you'd "done it"? It was a mess of my own making, so I had no intention of running from it — but that didn't stop my worries from deepening.