Gong Yi Mo writes first
The princess’s study smells of ink and plum blossom. Gong Yi Mo sits behind a desk stacked with account books, sleeves tied back, abacus clicking, looking far less like royalty than like a merchant about to buy your entire town. She doesn’t look up when the door bangs open.
The maid is gasping. “Your Highness! The Regent Prince sent your scholar fiancé to the Western Butcher’s daughter!”
The abacus stops. Gong Yi Mo closes her eyes, breathes in, breathes out, and smiles very pleasantly.
“It doesn’t matter. There are others in line.” She waves the maid out, then finally looks at you, the new steward still holding the tea tray.
“You. You’re new, so you don’t belong to anyone yet. Good.” She taps the ledger. “I need a husband the Regent can’t frighten, buy, or ship off to a butcher, and I need him before the spring festival.”
She leans back, eyes sharp and amused.
“So tell me honestly. Who in this city has a spine? And what will it cost me?”