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Chapter Text

--- Hae Soo --- 

“Your health is not good. Because of the pregnancy, you’ve become weaker. If you insist on keeping the baby...“ Hae Soo shook her head. She was sitting alone in her bedroom trying to paint the likeness of Baek Ah on a stone, but her thoughts kept returning to the doctor’s visit. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was somehow cursed. Every piece of good news came with a catch. 

She’d suspected the pregnancy for a while. There was only a small bump, barely visible under her clothes, but she’d noticed the change over time. One missing period is a fluke, three is a sign. She wasn’t some clueless 10th century noblewoman. She’d known the risk she’d been taking with So. She didn’t regret it. 

The only thing casting a shadow over the news was the doctor’s warning. “If you insist on keeping the baby…” Soo placed a hand over the bump. 

“As long as you’re safe,” she whispered, “I don’t care.”

“How can you say that?” Jung’s words came back to her. He’d been so upset. Would he treat her differently now? She remembered how angry So had been when he learned of her relationship with the 8th Prince. I was his person, but it didn’t matter in the end. So’s look of disgust still haunted her. Compared to what she had gotten herself into now, her moments with the 8th Prince seemed laughably innocent. What was holding hands compared to having another man’s child? 

She knew Jung wanted to help and would do anything to make her happy, but she still felt awful for putting him in this position. Everyone would think the baby was his. Worse, he’d be left with all the responsibility if her health didn’t improve. 

She sighed. She was selfish, she knew. She’d do anything to keep this small piece of So, no matter how much it burdened others; no matter the risk to herself. She stood and walked over to a chest where she had stowed keepsakes. At the top were the letters she’d begged So to write. Her handwriting was almost identical to So’s now, but she could still spot the difference. She drew her fingers over the characters. 

“I came to sit by the water. However, the clouds had come…”

If the doctor was right, she didn’t have much time. She needed to see him again. She pulled a fresh sheet of parchment from the pile, sat down at the table, and began to write.  

--------

“I told you not to worry and sleep comfortably.”

“How can you say that? It’s my first time sleeping in the same room as my wife. Why do you keep telling me to leave?” Jung was lying on a mattress across from her, watching her closely. There was still a slight wrinkle in his brow. He’d found her hunched over her drawings in the garden earlier that day and had carried her inside. Soo hadn’t tried to argue when he insisted on staying by her side. 

“Now that I look at you, I can tell we’ve both changed. A lot of time has passed.”

Unordered and uncensored, Hae Soo’s memories formed a sad montage. “Bad times follow the good,'' she said quietly “I’ve lived long enough to learn that.” She wondered what the point of it all was. 

“Do you remember when we first met?” Jung asked, trying to shake her from her dark line of thought. 

“Was it in the 8th Prince’s library?” That feels like a lifetime ago. “Or was it when I saved you?” 

“You mean the time you came running in with that stick?” He sat up and leaned forward. “I was so shocked. I’d never seen a girl so brave!” Jung swiped through the air with an imaginary stick, a grin stretching across his face.

“What about when you fought Eun? I still laugh when I think of that! Your hair was a mess and Eun had that big bruise on his forehead.” Jung paused, lost in thought. “You were so full of energy.”

“I was.” Soo could barely remember that version of herself. What had made her so fearless; so ready to take on new challenges? When she thought about doing that now, she just felt tired.  

“Why aren’t you keeping your promise to sing on my birthday? I waited every year.” 

“Oh dear,” Soo sighed. “Alright, I’ll sing for you this year.” 

“Ah! Do you remember - you snuck into Damiwon and spied on us bathing! Why did you do that? Now that I think about it, you’ve been sneaky ever since you were young.”

“That’s not fair.” Soo huffed, recalling the events of that day. “I was so shocked back then, I didn’t see a thing.”

Jung was trying to look serious, but he couldn’t hide his smirk. “Don’t lie! You saw everything, right?”

“I really couldn’t see!” Soo laughed. Out of all the places she could have landed, of course it had to be in a bath house filled with gorgeous, half-naked princes. She had to give it to fate - it had a sense of humour. 

“Are you just saying that because you didn’t like what you saw?” Jung jumped up and raised his arms in a mock athlete's pose. “What’s wrong with my body?” he teased. “What’s not to like?”

Soo smiled. The muscles in her cheeks felt out of practice. 

Jung put out the lanterns and settled into bed. The room was very quiet, and Soo’s thoughts began to drift. Would So answer her letters? She’d sent two now, but still no reply. She felt like she was running out of time. The tightness in her chest was getting worse. 

Soo thought suddenly of Lady Hae, and her slow but unstoppable illness. This wasn’t an age of cutting-edge technology and life-saving medicine. She couldn’t put her name on a list for surgery, or take some fancy pills to make things better. The uncertainty of it all gnawed at her. 

“Jung?” 

“Hm?” he answered sleepily. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure, what is it?” 

“If something happens to me, will you take care of the baby?”

“Nothing will happen.” The denial came too quickly. Soo could tell he was afraid. 

“But if it does…”

When Jung spoke again, his voice was thick. “Your child will have everything he could ever want. He’ll be spoiled.” 

“She,” Soo said quietly.

“What?”

“I think it’s a girl.”

“A girl!” Jung exclaimed with excitement. “Well then, I’ll have to train her to fight. I wonder if I can find a stick as large as your one...” 

“You might need it to ward off suitors.” 

“Suitors! No man will go near her until she’s 30!” 

Soo laughed. “If you say so.” Silence fell again, but it was lighter now. 

“Thank you, Jung.” Soo suddenly felt very tired. She sighed and turned onto her side.

“Sleep well, Soo.” 

Jung had spoken each word clearly, but in the silence that hugged his words it felt like he was saying something else. 

--------

As the weeks turned into months, Hae Soo became increasingly anxious. There had been no word from So. Not even a letter. Was he still mad? She was becoming more withdrawn, mentally cataloging all the moments she’d ever spent with So, trying to pinpoint when things had changed.

One afternoon Soo was sitting in a patch of sunlight next to Jung when two servants appeared. One was carrying a tray with refreshments and sweets. The other was clutching an ornate wooden box. “This has just been delivered from the palace!” 

Soo looked up, startled. The servant placed the box in front of her. “The messenger said it’s for you, my lady.” Soo looked over to Jung. He looked just as startled.

“Do you know what’s inside?” Soo asked, trying to sound casual.

The servant shook her head. “No, Lady Hae. But I was told it’s a gift,” the servant paused for a moment, her eyes darting to Jung before she said in a low voice “from His Majesty”. 

Soo’s mouth suddenly felt dry. She leaned forward and grabbed a teacup from the tray. She took a few quick gulps, then returned the cup with shaky hands. The room around her seemed to contract as she studied the box in front of her. 

All these months she’d waited for a sign. Something - anything - to let her know So was reading her letters; that he still cared. She ran her fingers over the lid. It was beautifully carved. There were flowers, birds and animals inlaid with mother of pearl. At the front was a small gold latch. Soo opened it and lifted the lid. 

The first thing that caught her eye was a length of light blue silk. It was finely woven and embroidered with gold thread. She lifted it up and held it to the light. 

“What is it?” Jung asked. She could feel his gaze burning with curiosity. 

“I’m not sure,” Soo said, feeling lost. “It looks a bit like a blanket. But it’s too small...” Soo looked back into the box. She gasped. 

“What?” Jung asked again, craning forward to see. At the top was a pair of slippers, but they were tiny - small enough for a doll. Soo lifted them out. Underneath was another piece of clothing. A miniature hanbok. Soo felt tears pricking her eyes. “They’re baby clothes,” she whispered. 

“Baby clothes?” Jung repeated, sounding alarmed. “But...” 

Soo lifted out the tiny hanbok and saw more clothes underneath. They were all beautiful, with thick silk and elegant embroidery; the sort of clothing a prince would wear. Tears began running down her cheeks. 

He knows. He knows and now he’s sent me these beautiful things. He must have forgiven me. She could feel Jung watching her. She wiped her cheeks with her sleeve. 

“How did he find out?” Jung asked, echoing her thoughts. “You didn’t tell him in your letters, did you?” 

Soo picked up her cup of tea again. She didn’t trust herself to speak, so she just shook her head. 

“This is bad.” Jung said seriously.  “If the King knows, others at court will too. They might suspect it’s his child.” 

“So would never let anything happen to me.” Soo said proudly, then regretted it. She could see Jung deflate at her words. 

“The So you remember is gone.” Jung replied coldly. “He’s King now. He has his own wife to think about.” The words were harsh to her ears. 

Soo didn’t want to get into an argument, so instead of replying she took another sip of tea. It was slightly bitter, but made her feel calm.  

“We’ll have to be careful.” Jung said finally. “The last thing we need is for Yeon-hwa to find out. She’s terrifying enough when I beat her at cards. I’d hate to think what would happen if she discovered another woman was having So’s child.” 

Soo nodded. As kind as Jung was to her, she didn’t want to be around him now. “I’m tired,” she lied. “I think I’ll go to bed early.” Jung sighed and stood up. He looked deep in thought. “Call me if you need anything.” He gave her a final worried look before leaving the room. She felt relieved to be alone. She ran a hand dreamily over the carvings on the box, and wondered if So had recently done the same. 

--------

Soo was on the floor of a prison cell and a guard was kicking her. Each blow caused a sharp burst of pain through her abdomen. She tried to block the blows. She wrapped her arms around her waist for protection, but the pain continued, even though the kicking stopped. Where was it coming from? She thought there’d been a guard a second ago, but now, as she blinked and looked around the dimly lit room, all she could see was the outline of furniture. Was it a dream?

Another stab of pain. No, that part was real. She pushed back the blanket to look at her belly. She couldn’t see anything. She tried to sit up. Her legs were covered in something sticky. She pushed back the blanket. She was sitting in a puddle of blood. 

There was a moment where her dazed mind wondered whose blood is that?  

Then reality sunk in and she cried out. 

“No! NO!”

She’d once seen a medical drama where a pregnant woman had been brought in during a miscarriage. Soo has been shocked at the amount of blood on screen. She’d felt sure it was an over-dramatisation. How could someone lose that much blood and survive? 

Now, looking down at the darkened sheets, she wondered how she was still conscious. She had to do something. She had to find a way to stop the bleeding. 

“Help!” She shouted. “I need help!” She didn’t know what time it was. “Jung! Anyone!” The others were probably asleep. She rolled towards the side of the bed and tried to stand. Cramps shot through her again. “Aargh!” she hissed. 

As she stood she felt the blood rush from her head, and the world went black for a few seconds. She stumbled forward, reaching for something to hold onto. There was a crash as she knocked over a side table. She felt a dizzying wave of nausea, like she had spent too long on an amusement ride. “Help!” she said again, this time with less energy. “Jung!”

She was sobbing as she reached the door. She leaned forward and slid it open. There was a roaring sound, like waves approaching the shore. She shook her head. The world was going black at the edges. A few more steps. Jung’s quarters weren’t far, but she couldn’t seem to focus anymore. 

Her legs gave way beneath her. She toppled forward and hit the floor. At least everything’s stopped spinning now , she thought as she lay there, and the ground is nice and cool. Her body was itching all over with heat, and painful cramps were still gripping her. Not cramps , she realised with a sudden horror. Contractions.

From somewhere far-off, she heard a voice. There were hurried footsteps that got louder and louder, until suddenly someone was crouched over her shouting. “Soo! Can you hear me?” It was Jung. She felt a hand on her forehead. She heard more footsteps, and a beam of light fell across her face. The newcomer gasped. “Jung, she’s bleeding out!”  

“Run to the village!” Jung ordered, “Find someone who knows what to do! Quickly!” She felt her body lift off the cool ground, and for a second she thought she was floating, until she realised Jung had picked her up. He was carrying her back to the bedroom.  

“I’ve got you now Soo. Everything will be alright.” He sounded surprisingly calm. Maybe it’s not as bad as I thought. But then Soo thought of the hospital drama, and how the only way the doctors had been able to help the woman was by delivering her stillborn child. 

“No-no-no-no.” Soo murmured. More contractions. She was 6 months pregnant at most. The baby was coming too soon. 

“I’m right here, Soo. I’ll look after you.” She heard water being poured and then felt a cool cloth on her forehead. She squeezed her eyes shut and willed it to be a dream. 

She faded in and out. Help from the village arrived and the room was suddenly filled with people. Hot water, lamps and towels were brought in, and the men were ordered to leave. Soo heard a firm voice telling her to wake up and concentrate. 

Soo pleaded, “Save the baby. Please.” The voice didn’t listen. It was ordering her to push. Soo wanted to hold back; to keep the baby where it belonged, but her body took over. In a few hours she had delivered the child. It was all wrong. There was no crying; no celebrating. The bossy voice sounded worried. “There’s too much blood.” 

She heard voices outside the room again, arguing. “Let me see her!” a cry rang out. Further murmurs. The door slid open and she heard footsteps coming towards the bed. 

“Soo?” Jung’s voice was raw, as though he’d been crying. But that couldn’t be right. Jung was a soldier - he’d never cry. She wanted to open her eyes and look at him, but she was too exhausted. It felt like her limbs had been sewn to the mattress. He sat down on the floor next to her. “Soo, I’m so sorry. I’m so…” he trailed off. “Please,” he said quietly, “I know it’s horrible, but don’t give up... You have to fight. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met. I…” his voice caught. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He whispered. She felt him lean over and kiss her on the forehead. 

Soo didn’t pay much attention to what happened after that. She let them fret over her body, but her mind was already somewhere else. Her world had just ended, so it felt only right that she should come to an end too. 

Chapter Text

--- Hae Soo --- 

When you’re sick, time moves differently. A day can feel like a week. A week can feel like months. 

After the worst was over, Soo’s body gradually regained its strength. Only a fortnight had passed, she was told, but it felt like the passing of several lifetimes. 

By all accounts it had been extremely close. “We’re so glad to have you back Mistress”, one servant said. “I prayed for you that night”. Another told her that fate was mysterious and that there must be great things in store for her ahead. From the way people spoke around her in hushed, superstitious tones, she knew they hadn’t expected her to make it.

“Enough blood to fill a wash tub!” Min Jee put it more bluntly. “It’s a miracle you didn’t turn to stone! I don’t know how there was any blood left to keep you human. Maybe you’re magic after all.” 

Min Jee had been with her every day since that night. She kept Soo up to date on all the local happenings, whether Soo wanted to hear them or not. “I’ll never forget the look on Prince Jung’s face when I said there wasn’t much hope… That man has lived on battlefields and seen horrors I can’t even imagine, but when I told him we couldn’t stop the bleeding… ah, it’s worse each time I remember it.”

It was the first day Soo had been well enough to get up properly. She was sitting on the porch, staring out at the courtyard as Min Jee clucked around the room behind her. 

“I want to see her,” Soo said. 

“Did you say something?” Min Jee asked, poking her head out the door. 

“I need to see her.” 

Min Jee had told her it was a girl. Soo had been too ill in the days following the birth to get up, and by the time she finally understood what had happened her daughter was gone. 

“Ah…” Min Jee tried to stall. “Wouldn’t it be better if you waited a few days? It’s not the best weather. It looks like it might rain.” 

“No, I’ve waited long enough. I have to see her now.” Soo was already pushing herself up, trying to stand. She couldn’t believe how weak she’d become. 

“Mistress, mistress - don’t rush! At least let me help.” She felt a strong arm tuck under hers as Min Jee came to her side. She leaned on the older woman. It was going to be a slow walk. 

The way was mostly flat, except for a small hill at the end. At the top of the rise Min Jee led her to a large pile of stones arranged in a mound. Someone had planted flowers in front. Soo gulped. 

It’s just as I imagined, she thought. No big deal. But as she tried to hold herself together with that thought, she noticed a tall stick leaning against the stones. Someone had tied a length of pink ribbon to the top. The sight was too much. 

She was suddenly crying harder than she ever had before. Her sobs were sharp and high pitched. She sounded hysterical, she knew, but she couldn’t seem to stop. 

Soon she was kneeling with her face pressed to the ground, despite her aching legs. She could feel Min Jee stroking her back, murmuring gently, but the words had no meaning to her. 

Her thoughts circled back to the ribbon on the stick. The pain was too intense. She’d never get to hold her. Her beautiful daughter; buried beneath the cold, dark earth on this lonely hill. “Mistress, please,” she could hear Min Jee pleading, “we have to go back now. It’s starting to rain.” 

“Let me be!” Soo sobbed, pushing Min Jee’s hand away. “I’m staying here. She needs me.”

Min Jee wrung her hands and looked around. “I’ll get help.” 

Rain started to fall. Soo’s clothes were soon soaked through, but she almost welcomed the feeling. The weather matched her mood. 

As a 21st century woman she’d been betrayed and humiliated. At the time, she’d thought that was the worst thing that could ever happen. Now it seemed like a joke. 

“Why?” she cried out. “What did I do to deserve this?” Her voice was drowned out by the wind. Her body felt numb. She let her head fall forward and touch the earth. 

“Soo?” she heard a hesitant voice behind her. She felt a gentle hand on her back. “Let me take you home.” She felt strong arms pulling her up, but her legs had seized from spending too long on the ground and she toppled forward. Suddenly she was weightless again. Jung was cradling her to his chest. He started walking with her in his arms. She was too tired and cold to protest. 

By the time Jung had gotten her inside, she was shivering badly. “Min Jee, could you fetch some soup? Or anything that’s hot. She’s freezing.” Jung placed Soo on the bed. She was too tired to move. 

Min Jee was back soon enough with soup and a pot of tea. “She can’t stay in those wet clothes! She’ll catch her death!” She turned to Jung, “You can go now Your Highness, I’ll look after her.” 

Jung looked down at his hands with a pained expression. “I feel so helpless.”

Min Jee sighed. “Come back later when she’s feeling better. There’s nothing you can do now.” 

Jung nodded unhappily. “Stay warm, Soo.”

As soon as Jung was gone Min Jee started fussing. “How could you be so thoughtless!” Min Jee scolded. “There are people here that care for you and then you risk your health so recklessly!” She began stripping off Soo’s wet layers and throwing them into a pile on the floor. “You know you don’t have a thousand lives to waste? Only one.”

Once Soo was out of the clothes Min Jee wrapped her in a soft robe and helped her sit up in bed. She brought over the soup and started spooning it to Soo, who obediently swallowed each mouthful. As much as it felt like she belonged on that cold hill, Soo couldn’t deny that the heat from the broth was wonderful. She couldn’t remember when she’d last been fussed over like this. She felt like a child again. 

“I’ve actually had two.” Soo heard herself saying. “I used to think my last life was awful and that a fresh start would fix everything, but it only got worse.” 

Min Jee looked up in surprise. It was the most Soo had ever said to her. 

Min Jee lowered the bowl and sighed. “You’ve been through a lot.” There was a long pause, which was unusual for Min Jee. 

“You know, people will hear your story and say they understand how you feel. But they’ll never understand. No one knows what you’ve been through except you. A mother’s loss is like no other. Each child is unique, and the loss leaves a unique hole. You’ll never forget. Not even if you live a hundred lives.” 

Soo felt tears running down her face again. Min Jee leaned forward and picked up Soo’s hands. “These are the blackest days. The sun might feel like it’s lost its warmth, but you have to keep going.” 

Why? Why do I have to? Soo wondered. 

Min Jee gave Soo’s hands a squeeze. “Do you want more soup?”

Soo shook her head.

Min Jee spread a blanket over her and tucked in the corners. “You know, there really are people here who care about you. He won’t say it, but Prince Jung can think of little else.” 

Soo closed her eyes. She didn’t know what to make of those words. They only made her more weary. 

--------

That night was no different from the others she’d struggled through since the miscarriage. Her dreams were full of pain and death. At some point she woke to the sound of screaming. She felt a hand on her shoulder. Someone was calling her name. She strained to hear the voice and the screams faded. “Soo, wake up. It’s only a dream.” It was Jung. She felt tears well up. 

She’d lost track of how many times he’d found her like this, terrified and shrieking in the dark. Min Jee returned to the village at night and the servants slept in a different part of the house, so she guessed he was the only one left who could hear her. 

He was sitting on the edge of her bed. She was too exhausted to be embarrassed. She turned towards him and buried her face against his side. She felt him rub her back in soothing circles. “Don’t worry Soo-ah, I’m here. I won’t leave you.” He repeated it over and over, like a lullaby, and even though she knew it wasn’t enough to stop the nightmares, it was at least enough to help her drift back to sleep. 

--------

Days slipped by. Soo mostly sat on the porch staring blankly into the distance. Jung came to visit her every afternoon. He never brought up the nightmares. Instead he greeted her like she was the most interesting person in the world and it had been ages since they last caught up.

“How are you today, Soo?” he’d ask brightly, “I’m sorry I was gone so long. Look what I found at the market!”

He’d bring her flowers and fruit, manuscripts and drawings. Sometimes he’d read to her, other times he’d describe the projects he was working on and what was happening in the village. She didn’t say much during his visits. Still, she began looking forward to them. They were a welcome distraction from her thoughts. 

Today Jung pulled out a notebook. “I’ve got some poems for you,” he smiled shyly. He had just arrived and was standing in the doorway. Soo didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. She patted the cushion next to her. His smile widened and he closed the distance in a couple of steps. He dropped down gracefully, sitting cross-legged. Even with several layers of clothing between them, Soo could feel warmth radiating from him. She was drawn to it like a cat.

As Jung opened the notebook to read, Soo dropped her head to his shoulder. Jung tensed slightly. Soo realised this was the first time she’d ever leaned on him. It felt so natural. Jung cleared his throat, shifting his position on the cushion slightly, and began to read. 

His voice is beautiful, Soo realised. I never noticed. She sighed. The side of her body that was pressing against him had become marvellously warm.

He smells amazing too, she noticed , like cedar and honey. How strange, she mused, that someone could smell like exotic wood and spices in an age without body wash or cologne. Something about being so close to him was distracting her more than usual.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on his reading. He had started a new poem.

The mat frays from the edge,

The bowl cracks from the centre,

The blade rusts from the point,

But losing you was the end from all ways at once. 

 

I can gather up the pieces that are left, 

As simply as clearing sand from a beach.

 

I can picture how it was before,

As clearly as the moon remembers day. 

 

I can remake things, with enough time - 

but it will never be enough. 

Because I cannot remake you. 

The poem ended and the room was quiet. Soo opened her eyes and found Jung looking down at her. His expression was soft. Soo felt a deep ache in her chest and wondered if there would ever come a time when she could hear a poem like that without crumbling. 

With a slow but deliberate movement, as though afraid to startle her, Jung reached out and brushed his thumb across her check. 

“I didn’t want to make you cry.”

Soo sniffled. “It’s all I seem to do these days. It was beautiful though. Who wrote it?”

“I did.”

“I didn’t know you wrote poems.” 

“I don’t. Well, I didn’t before... but I thought it might help.” 

The silence was never uncomfortable with Jung. 

It never feels like he’s trying to say goodbye, Soo realised.

As though listening to her thoughts, Jung whispered, “I’ll always be here, Soo”. 

She’d heard promises like that before. At some point she’d stopped believing them. But for some reason, tucked up against Jung’s side on that wintry afternoon, the words comforted her. 

“Okay, Jung,” she sighed, “Stay right there and let me rest awhile. Just ten minutes,” she murmured, closing her eyes again. Jung put an arm around her and pulled her closer to his side. With the wonderful warmth that now enveloped her she felt sleepier than ever. Perhaps the nightmares wouldn’t catch up to her this time. She wondered why she hadn’t tried leaning on him like this before. 

--------

Soo woke before sunrise. She dressed quickly and slipped out of the house.

Light was beginning to show on the horizon as she neared the hill. The view was heartbreakingly beautiful in the early light. It made her think of So, and the night he’d taken her to the sea.

“You’re missing this,” she said aloud, as if her words would carry to him. “Why didn’t you come?” 

As light slowly spread across the hill, Soo thought of all different loves she’d experienced. There was the relationship with her first boyfriend, which was angsty and superficial. Then Wang Wook, whose love was paternal and cautious. So was possessive and fierce. Now Jung… She didn’t love him like she’d loved the others, but he was the only one who hadn’t turned away. 

Soo suddenly thought of how her story would sound in the advice section of a gossip magazine.

“Let me get this straight - ”, the columnist would probably say, “one man cheats on you with your best friend, the next man abandons you after you’re wrongfully imprisoned to save face, the third guy gets you pregnant but marries another woman, and the last man stays by your side after all this and likes you anyway? And you still need advice?” 

Soo shook her head. He’s just looking out for me because we’re friends, she told herself. 

Soo reached out and touched the stick leaning against the stones. He would have made a wonderful father, she thought with a burst of sadness. 

As she walked back towards the house, she realised that she’d been nurturing a hope since she married Jung that So would one day appear and whisk her away. In the clear morning light it seemed like a silly school-girl dream. So was a King, after all. He’d given up everything to get the throne and now he was tied to it. Perhaps it was time to let her foolish fantasies go. When she got back to her room she went to the desk and grabbed a brush. There was one more letter she needed to write. 

--------

“I saw the strangest thing in the village today!” Min Jee was nattering away as usual. “A man passed through pushing a small cart, and there, perched on top of it, were birds of every color! I’ve never seen such birds before! Blue and red, yellow and green… There must have been ten or twelve of them. And there he went, so casually, as if he were giving the birds some fresh air. They didn’t even fly away!” 

“Parrots,” Soo muttered, continuing to stare into the courtyard. 

“She talks!” Min Jee exclaimed. “I thought you might have fallen into a trance mistress, for all you’ve said these past few days.”

“Give her time,” Jung said from the seat across the table. When Soo turned to look at him, she could see he was studying her with a hopeful expression. 

“You might plan to live to a hundred Prince Jung, but I certainly don’t have enough years left in me to wait out this dreadful melancholy.” Min Jee thrust a tea cup at Soo. “Drink it.” 

“What is it?” Soo asked.

“Something to ease your sorrow.”

Soo peered at the pale yellow liquid then took a sip. “Mm. It’s bitter.” She swallowed another mouthful. “It tastes familiar. I think I’ve had it before.” Min Jee had been busy putting plates away, but paused when she heard Soo’s comment. 

“Really?” Min Jee asked curiously. “When?” 

“A few weeks ago. One of the servants made it for me.”

“That’s not possible.” Min Jee’s voice was suddenly sharp. She looked pale. 

“Why? What is it?” Soo had never seen Min Jee upset before.

“It’s called Lover’s Salve. Have you heard of it?” Soo shook her head. She glanced over at Jung and saw a look of horror on his face. Her heart started to pound.

“What? What is it?” 

“It’s not a common herb… It has two uses,” Min Jee said slowly, her expression pained, “It’s mainly used to mend broken hearts. It makes the drinker feel at peace. But you’d never give it to a pregnant woman... “ She paused and scrubbed a hand across her face. Soo was shocked to see tears forming in Min Jee’s eyes. “Because it also causes miscarriages.”

“What?” Soo whispered. Her heart began to race as she processed the words. It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. The silence was suddenly deafening. She doubled over in her seat, clawing at her chest trying to get enough air.

No, she thought, it can’t be. She could hear Jung, but he seemed a world away.

“Soo,” he repeated. It took her a moment to realise he was crouching beside her, rubbing her back. “Breathe,” he coaxed. “Take a deep breath.” She followed his instructions. A tight knot remained in her chest, but she was getting air again.

“Are you sure you’ve had this tea before?” he asked. Soo nodded. She was crying now.

“I had it on the day-” the words got stuck. She tried again, “-the day before I lost-”. She couldn’t say it. She was sobbing too heavily. 

“Who gave it to you?” Jung’s tone was calm but insistent.

“One of the servants.” Soo saw a flash of anger in his eyes. “The young one.” Jung stood and turned to Min Jee. 

“Wait here with her. I’ll find out.” He was gone in an instant. 

Soo’s pulse was still racing. She couldn’t seem to focus her thoughts. Was it really the same tea? Maybe it just tasted familiar. She’d been so distracted that day. Maybe she was mistaken, maybe it was a completely different brew. But then her contractions started soon after… She tried taking deep breaths between sobs, like Jung had advised. Her initial shock was fading away. It was replaced by a growing sense of confusion.

She’d done everything to protect the baby - removed herself from the palace, cut ties with So, married a man in exile, stayed out of the public eye - but bad luck still tailed her. 

How could she have been so reckless? She should have avoided unfamiliar tastes. She should have prepared her own food and drinks. She had brewed tea at court for years. How had she not come across this herb before? She should have paid more attention while studying. Was it her fault, then? Was she to blame for the death of her child? The thought spun frantically in her head. 

Jung returned to fetch Min Jee. “I need your help,” he said, avoiding Soo’s eyes. Min Jee nodded and followed Jung out the door. 

Soo felt her legs itching. She pulled herself up and made for the corridor. Min Jee and Jung were already out of sight, but she knew where they’d be. She headed for the kitchen. As she drew close she could hear their voices. She stopped near the entrance and pressed herself against the wall. 

“Well?” She could hear Jung asking. “Could it be?”

There was silence, but Min Jee must have nodded, because Jung suddenly cursed. Soo felt her chest tighten. 

“But how did it end up here?” Min Jee sounded stunned. “It’s a rare herb - hard to grow and difficult to buy. I only have some because I’m a healer, and, well... you can imagine its value. But even I struggle to find it, and I know where to look.”

“It arrived with the box from the palace.” Jung’s voice was low. “The messenger said it was a restorative herb - to boost health during pregnancy. Our servant believed him. She’d never seen such beautiful gifts.” 

“Was it from the King, then?” Min Jee asked. 

Soo felt herself backing away. 

So. My So. He would never… Her mind was reeling. But didn’t he warn me? He said I was his woman. What if he was jealous? What if he thought the baby was Jung’s? He’d never visited, not even after she sent the letters. Was this why?

Soo turned back down the corridor and hurried to her bedroom. There, in the corner of the room, tucked under a blanket, was the ornate wooden box from the palace. Soo threw off the blanket and tore open the lid. She started pawing through the contents, tossing garments aside in a frantic search for clues. Luxurious items rained to the floor beside her. Soon all she held was an empty box. She stared at the pile on the ground. Colourful baby clothes, delicate lace blankets - now that she examined them, they didn’t look at all like things a Wolf prince would have chosen. 

So didn’t care about clothes, she thought. Why would he send these?  

Her eyes fell back to the box and she noticed something she hadn’t seen before. At the very bottom, stuck around the edges, was a host of dried petals. They were light purple in colour. The sight confused her. It was a feminine touch. So would never include something like this. 

She peered down and a delicate scent hit her. I know that perfume. For a moment she stood still, head tilted to one side, sifting through her memories for a connection. What is it? Then a sickening realization dawned on her. Wisteria. It was the smell she’d been assaulted by whenever Hwangbo Yeon-hwa was close.

“No," she said aloud. It can’t be... She shook her head, but the thought was already gathering momentum. It wasn’t an impossible conclusion. It had a weight to it like only the truth did.

“No!” She was shouting now.  

She thought she’d escaped court politics. She’d been sure those days of intrigue were behind her. The words of Court Lady Oh suddenly came back to her. Here she was, hundreds of miles away from the palace, sharing the same fate; her life destroyed by a jealous Queen. 

Soo felt her legs buckle. Jung appeared beside her. His arms were around her before she could fall. 

“What is it?” he asked, sounding panicked. “What’s wrong?” 

She pointed at the petals. Jung peered down, confusion crossing his face. 

“It was Yeon-hwa,” Soo wailed. “Yeon-hwa sent the tea.” She felt Jung tense. He didn’t say a word, but his arms tightened around her as he pulled her close. 

How can there still be any tears left? Soo thought bitterly as she sobbed into Jung’s shirt. 

What more will it take to stop them?

The answer seemed to ring in her ears. 

Enough blood to fill a wash tub. Enough tears to flood a river. 

Chapter Text

-- Hae Soo --

It was still dark when Hae Soo woke, covered in sweat. Her heart was racing. She looked around the shadowy room, feeling confused, and then realised what was different. Jung wasn’t there. 

He’d been furious the night before. He hadn’t said much, but Soo had seen him clenching his hands as he’d paced the room. Min Jee, clearly worried about what he was planning, had tried to distract him.

“Lady Hae is lucky to be alive. Without you she would have died that night. You can’t leave her side - not even for a moment! She needs you.”

Jung hadn’t replied. 

Soo was in shock. She hadn’t processed Min Jee’s words at the time, but now, as she gazed around the empty room, a coldness spread through her.

Where was Jung? Why hadn’t he woken her?  

She thought of all the times she’d been left alone in the past when So had gone off to fight the wrongs of the world. She’d been a fool to let him go - as though spilling more blood could heal wounds! This age was full of senseless warfare. She would never get used to it. 

A thought flashed through Soo’s mind. What if Jung wants revenge? What if he tries to challenge So? There were guards all over the palace. He’d be captured and imprisoned. He’ll be killed. 

Soo felt a burst of adrenaline.

She’d never given much weight to superstitions, but something in her gut was telling her to find Jung right away.

She pulled herself out of bed, felt around in the darkness for a cloak, and pulled it around her shoulders. She padded down the hall in slippered feet, pausing outside Jung’s door. Her heart was pounding faster now. Somehow, even before opening the door, she knew she’d find the room empty. 

But it wasn’t only Jung that was missing. His bedroll, armour and travelling cloak were also gone. For a moment Soo stood stunned. It’s only been a few hours... Am I too late? 

Then she remembered the stables, where Jung kept his weapons, and rushed to the back door. 

Her footsteps barely made a sound as she crossed the courtyard. Her knees were aching, but she pushed herself to walk faster. 

With a full moon overhead she didn’t need a lantern to find her way, but she regretted not choosing a warmer cloak. The air pierced her lungs. Please let him be there, she pleaded to the night. 

The stables were eerily quiet. She walked until she reached the back where the weapons were stored. Several had been taken from the wall. Soo felt panic rising in her chest. She spun on her heels and was about to run for help when she heard a quiet nicker nearby. His horse! She followed the sound and found Jung crouched on the ground before a stall. His shoulders were slumped. His head was buried in his hands. 

“Jung?” Soo asked quietly. 

Jung lifted his head.  

“Soo! What are you doing out here? You should be inside. It’s cold.” 

“What are you doing, Jung?” 

He didn’t need to say it. She could see the answer in his eyes. 

“Jung, please,” she tried, “Don’t do this.” 

He rubbed a hand across his face, his expression pained. 

“I couldn’t protect you,” his voice sounded broken. “Years of training and I couldn’t protect my own wife... Do you know how that feels? Do you know how that makes me look? What if they think I’m an easy target? What if they try to hurt you again? I have to do something…”

“Do you think you’re the only one who feels that way? There isn’t an hour that goes that I don’t curse myself. Why did I drink the tea? Why didn’t I realise what it was? Why couldn’t I prevent it? The guilt is killing me. It's all I can think about.”

“I have to stop them! Someone has to stop them!” He was getting up now, as though readying himself to leave. Was she a reminder of what they’d lost? Was her presence making things worse?

Soo lowered herself to the ground. The earth was bitterly cold. 

“Soo, get up!” Jung sounded alarmed. “Your knees! You’ll hurt them!” 

She bowed her head, trying not to cry. 

“I know I’ve been a burden. I’ve caused so much trouble, and I’m no joy to be around, but I swear - I’ll try harder. I’ll do anything. I’ll sing for you every morning. I’ll make soaps and tell stories -” 

“Soo, I can’t -” 

“Please,” she begged, and the tears she’d tried to hold back started running down her face. “I’ve lost so many people. Chae-ryung, Eun, Wang Mu - their deaths almost broke me. And then our baby… I didn’t think I’d survive it. But if I lose you as well...”  She couldn’t finish. Her legs were going numb. Her whole body felt cold. 

“Soo, don’t,” Jung crouched down in front of her and took her hands. “Your fingers! They’re freezing! Let me help you back to your room.” 

He helped her stand. Soo knew that once he’d gotten her back inside he’d return to the stables. Her time was running out. She cast around for something else to say; something that would convince him to stay. 

Jung’s grip was wonderfully warm, as though she were holding her hands before a fire. 

What could she tell him? She’d never been good at getting people to stay. 

“Don’t go.” Her breath plumed white in the cold. “I need you.” 

Moonlight caught the edges of the tears in Jung’s eyes. Soo willed him to understand. I can’t do this without you. Jung’s head dropped and his shoulders slumped. She squeezed his hands.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he whispered. 

I’m going to save you, Soo thought in return. 

Jung escorted her back inside and waited for her to settle into bed. Soo pulled the covers up to her nose, shivering. Why is everything so hard? I wasn’t even out for long. She looked over to where Jung was standing. There was something alert in his posture. Is he still planning to leave?

“Stay with me,” she pleaded. 

Jung smiled ruefully, “I won’t leave the yard.” 

She shook her head. “No, even that's too far.” She pointed to the mat beside hers. If he stayed within sight, she wouldn’t have to worry. 

Jung raised an eyebrow. “You want me to stay here?”

Soo nodded. 

Jung cleared his throat. “Right. Sure. I mean, we are married.”

Soo felt her cheeks turning red. He doesn’t mean it that way. He’s just worried about what the servants might say. 

Jung stripped off his outer travelling clothes until only his shirt and trousers remained and settled into the spare bed.

It was quiet in the room. Soo was sure Jung would be able to hear her heartbeat. Adrenaline from the last half hour was still racing through her veins. 

She wanted to know what Jung was thinking, but was too nervous to ask. 

As if hearing her thoughts, Jung turned towards her on his mattress. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.”

“I know.” 

“I still think about the days when we used to meet at Wook’s house. Little details keep coming back to me. Eun was so happy then, and even So smiled when you made that drawing. What went wrong for it to get like this… Could we have stopped it?” 

Soo didn’t reply. She couldn’t bear to think about that time. The bright smiles in those memories made her eyes sting. 

“Do you think we’ll have a chance to do things over in another life?”

“Nothing would change.” 

“I’d find you sooner, Soo. I’d keep you safe.”

“What if you didn’t remember me?”

“It wouldn’t matter. I’d still find you.” He sounded so certain. It reminded her of how hopeful she’d once been. I thought time would fix everything, but it destroyed everything instead. 

“I hope you don’t remember. I hope neither of us do.” She didn’t want him to be stuck with her again in another life. You don’t deserve that.  

“Even if you looked completely different, I’d just need to hear you singing and I’d recognise you instantly.” She couldn’t make out Jung’s face in the darkness, but he sounded wistful. 

“I’m not that good,” Soo sighed. 

“You are.”

Soo couldn’t think of a reply. She was beginning to feel sleep creeping up on her. 

“Should I tell you a story?” Jung asked. 

“Mhmm.”

He started telling her of a beautiful meadow in the mountains and a young girl who came across an injured tiger. Jung’s voice was soothing, like rain tapping against a window.

“It’s not easy to help a tiger without getting hurt.” 

How foolish of her to try. 

“But this was no ordinary girl.”

The tiger will hurt her anyway. The thought drifted across Soo’s mind as she slipped off to sleep. Girls aren’t meant to help tigers. 

--------

When Soo woke the next morning Jung was gone. The room felt cold without him. Where did he go? She dressed as quickly as possible and limped into the yard.

A servant was sweeping leaves near the main gate.

“Have you seen Prince Jung?” Soo’s voice clearly caught the man by surprise. 

He stumbled back a few steps, eyes wide, before composing himself. “My lady! I didn’t expect to see you out of the house.” He bowed low. “My apologies. His Highness left for the village.”

“Why? Is something wrong?”

“I'm not sure, my lady. He left in a hurry.” 

The news made Soo break into a cold sweat.

What if he’s looking for answers about the tea? What if he gets into a fight? She couldn’t stop the panic from growing in her mind. 

“Tell Min Jee I’ve gone to find him.”

Soo wasn’t dressed for a long walk, but every second that passed felt a moment closer to news of something terrible. 

Without stopping to consider the wisdom of her actions, Soo hurried through the gate and started towards the village. 

The way was flat, but Soo had hardly walked in recent months so it wasn’t long before she was hopelessly out of breath. Weak sunbeams danced in and out from behind a grey curtain. Soo’s skin felt itchy and hot, but the wind was blissfully cold. 

Her knee ached with every step. Kneeling on the frosty ground had inflamed her old injury. But I didn’t have a choice. 

She’d learned to accept the pain, though at times she missed the feeling of moving effortlessly. Today her brain seemed to conspire with her joints to slow her down. The world seemed fuzzier than usual. There was a shape in the distance, but she couldn’t make out whether it was a tree or structure. 

As she tried to focus on the object her footsteps strayed to the side of the path. The earth was looser on the edge and she tripped on the uneven surface. As she tried to correct her course she was hit by a wave of dizziness. She soon found herself sitting on a patch of dirt, her breathing laboured.

Did I faint? She tucked her head between her knees and threw her arms over her head. I can’t even walk a hundred metres. What good am I?  

A playful voice dispersed her thoughts.

“People talk about blushing brides, but this seems like a far more realistic image. Only six months in and look at you... And people ask me why I’m still unmarried!”

Soo lifted her head and a blurry face came into view.

“Baek Ah?” She had to be hallucinating. There was no way he was actually here. 

“The one and only!” The silhouette answered. She blinked and the voice suddenly changed in tone.

“Are you alright? Good God Soo, you look so pale! What’s wrong? Has something happened?” 

Soo tried to focus on her breathing. If she got more air the vision would surely disappear. 

“Where’s Jung? What are you doing out here alone?”

Her eyes started to sting. Is it really him?

“Let me help you,” the voice continued. She felt a strong grip under her arms, accompanied by the familiar scent of leather and ink. 

“Baek Ah.” The sob that came from deep within Soo. Baek Ah tried to pull her up.

“Soo, what is it? Are you injured?” He struggled against gravity to prop her upright, but quickly saw there was no strength in her limbs. 

“Don’t worry Soo, I’ve got you.” Baek Ah ducked down and tucked her arms around his neck. When he stood again, Soo found herself being lifted onto his back.

Baek Ah didn’t say anything as he carried her back to the house. He seemed lost in thought. Soo stared at the path beneath them in a daze. Why is it so hot today? She felt itchy all over, as though insects were nipping her skin. 

She couldn’t understand how Baek Ah was there, or why Min Jee was so angry when they arrived back in the yard. 

“Who are you? What happened? Tell me at once!” 

Baek Ah sounded afraid. “She was like this when I found her. I think she’s sick.”

“Lady Hae - can you hear me?” Soo felt a hand against her forehead. “Heavens she’s burning up! Quick! Bring her this way.” 

“I want to stay and talk to him.” Min Jee didn’t listen to Soo’s garbled pleas. The battle-worn midwife wasn’t one to stand by and gossip when a house was on fire. 

-- Baek Ah --

Baek Ah was standing with his back to a wall, shoulders hunched, when Jung walked through the gates of the yard. 

How could he leave her in that state? How could he let things get that bad? 

“Brother!” Jung stopped short. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” Baek Ah’s words were heavy with accusation. He had been looking forward to seeing his brother, but the image of Soo sitting crumpled on the ground kept coming back to him. Baek Ah felt himself shaking with rage each time he thought of it. 

This man was her husband! He was meant to protect her!

“What do you mean?” Jung sounded alarmed. He had dark rings under his eyes as though he hadn’t slept in days.   

“I saw Hae Soo.” 

“Soo?” Jung’s eyes widened. He looked about the yard. “Where is she?” 

Baek Ah nodded towards the house. “She’s sick. I had to carry her home.” 

“Soo!” Jung started towards the door, but Baek Ah grabbed his arm. 

“What happened?” 

“What are you doing? Let go!”

Baek Ah’s grip tightened. 

“I carried her back to the house, but I may as well have been carrying a bag of bones. There’s nothing left to her, Jung! And her voice… That’s not the woman I used to know.” 

Jung stopped struggling. His arm went limp.

A couple of servants had come running at the sound of their shouts. Baek Ah saw the bossy older woman who had scolded him earlier.

“Your Highness! You’ve returned!” The woman looked somewhere in her forties, with broad shoulders and streaks of grey hair. She stepped forward and gestured towards Baek Ah. “This man carried Lady Hae back from the road. He said you know each other, but he hasn’t given his name.” The woman shot Baek Ah a fierce look. 

“We do know each other. What happened, Min Jee?” Baek Ah was startled by the strain in Jung’s voice. 

“The Mistress collapsed on the way to the village. She’s got a bad fever. Poor thing must have caught a cold - but don’t worry. I gave her some medicine. She’s resting now.”

“Can I see her?”

“Better wait a few hours or you’ll wake her.”

Jung nodded, staring into space. Baek Ah studied his brother. There were lines on Jung’s face he’d never noticed before. 

“Would you like me to prepare some tea for you and your guest?” The woman was pushy in a motherly sort of way. 

Jung nodded again. 

“I’ll bring it to the study.” Min Jee’s tone was firm, as though she were used to giving orders.

Why does Jung put up with this? What on earth is going on here? 

Jung trudged towards a distant wing of the building with Baek Ah in tow. The room they entered was bright and airy with pretty wood panelling. Jung opened a small cabinet in the corner and pulled out a bottle. In the time it took for him and Baek Ah to settle on opposite sides of the study table, it dawned on Baek Ah that he must have missed something momentous. The light that flooded the room seemed to stop before it reached his brother. Jung’s features, usually quick to form a smile, were lined with shadows. 

Jung poured a glass of rice wine, immediately downed it, then poured two more cups. He placed one before Baek Ah.

“It’s been a while,” Jung said, holding up his glass. 

Baek Ah didn’t know where to start. He lifted his cup, clinked it against Jung’s, and took a sip. 

Jung poured himself a third glass.

This is new, Baek Ah thought. Jung’s frown deepened. 

“I can see it in your eyes. You think it’s my fault.” Jung’s shoulders slumped. “Perhaps it is… I couldn’t stop it.”

Baek Ah had never seen his brother so defeated.

“What happened?” 

Jung’s hand tightened around the cup and his expression darkened. He stared at the table.

“She was with child.”

“What?” 

Jung looked up sharply. “It wasn’t like that! She and I never... She was pregnant when we married.”

“It was the King’s?”

“She was so weak... The doctor said she wasn’t strong enough to keep the baby, but she insisted. She wanted that child more than anything.” Jung traced the rim of his cup with a finger. Baek Ah was horrified to see tears forming in his brother’s eyes. 

“Then one day, gifts arrived from the palace. Baby clothes. Like he knew. Like he was congratulating her.”

Baek Ah couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d spent countless hours with So in the months following Soo’s departure. Why hadn’t So shared the news? 

“There was tea as well. It was supposed to help with the pregnancy. The messenger said it would boost her health.” Jung swallowed. His voice was strained. “It was poison.”

Baek Ah stared at Jung, speechless. 

“She lost the baby.” Jung’s hand tightened around his cup. “She almost-” Jung pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“She-” he tried again but couldn’t finish. Jung covered his face with his hand. 

Baek Ah’s thoughts were churning. He’d been so mad at Jung earlier when he had caught sight of Soo. Now his rage felt misdirected. A deep dread was taking its place.

“It can’t be,” Baek Ah shook his head, “So would never… It can’t have been So.” 

“Do you think you really know him? Can you predict everything he’ll do?” The contempt in Jung’s voice was thinly disguised. 

“No, of course not - but he loved Soo more than anyone. I can’t believe he’d ever harm her like that.”

“I almost went to the palace to find out,” Jung was staring off into the distance, “but I can’t leave Soo alone. Things haven’t been the same since that night. She needs someone by her side.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t go - So would have killed you on sight! He had someone watching you for months. I’m sure you noticed.” Jung nodded. “The reports made it sound like you and Soo were happily married. You were even sharing a room! So was crushed. He stopped hearing reports altogether.”

“I told you already,” Jung said, rubbing his forehead, “it isn’t like that between us. Soo had a hard time during her pregnancy. She needed someone to watch over her.” 

Baek Ah studied his brother. He believed Jung’s words, but there seemed to be something missing from the account. 

“Who could have found out about the pregnancy other than So?”

“Soo blames the Queen, but I don’t know why her Majesty would do such a thing.”

Ah Soo, your time at court made you sharp. Baek Ah thought of the Queen’s recent struggle to conceive an heir. 

“Perhaps Soo knows her Majesty better than we do. After all, Yeon-hwa was always careful to hide her weaknesses around us.”

“What if there are more threats coming? What if the person responsible comes back to finish the job? I feel so helpless in this godforsaken place. I need to know who I can trust.” Jung ran a hand over his creased brow. 

“I’ll help you,” Baek Ah said. “I can’t promise I’ll find all the answers, but I’ll make inquiries. Soo deserves to know the truth.” 

Chapter Text

-- Baek Ah --

The sky was beginning to darken by the time Baek Ah arrived back at the palace. He had just finished changing out of his dusty travel clothes when a messenger knocked at the door.

“The King wishes to see you,” the servant said.

Baek Ah tried to arrange his features in a neutral expression as he walked towards the throne hall. His thoughts were churning. He still wasn’t sure if So was involved in the plot against Hae Soo. Could So’s feelings towards her have changed so drastically in just a few months? He wished he had more faith in his brother, but as he drew closer to the throne room, he felt a knot forming in his gut.

The room was empty aside from the King. Baek Ah's footsteps rang out as he crossed the hall. It was eerily quiet.

When Baek Ah finally reached the throne he stopped and bowed. “Your Majesty.” 

“Brother,” the King said with a smile, “I must congratulate you on your recent victories.” 

“Thank you, your Majesty.”

“You’ve done well on the battlefield,” So continued, “but I see that your success has made you arrogant.” 

“Your Highness?” The King was no longer smiling. Baek Ah didn’t like where this was going. 

“I’ve been told you disobeyed my command and went to visit the 14th Prince in exile.”

Baek Ah ducked his head. “Your Majesty, I apologise, I've committed a grave sin.“

“I don’t want your apologies! Make it up to me! Give me some good news.” 

Baek Ah felt as though he were being led into a trap. His mind scrambled for a way to change course. 

“Your Highness?”

“How is my brother faring?” So asked lightly, as though making small talk. Baek Ah knew they were drawing closer to the heart of the matter. 

“He’s fine,” Baek Ah said slowly, knowing what would follow.   

“And how is his wife?” The side of So’s mouth twitched upward as he spoke the last word. 

Baek Ah didn’t want to answer. It felt like a betrayal. Soo was always getting caught up in court politics. Even now, after all she’d been through, she was still getting dragged into the fire. 

“Well?” the King demanded impatiently, his eyes narrowed. 

“She is… unwell, your Highness.” 

So frowned. “What do you mean?”

Baek Ah realised that if he ever was going to uncover So’s role in the poisoning, now was the time. 

“She was struck by a sudden illness,” Baek Ah said slowly, studying the King’s face. “She was gravely ill,” he paused, and then added quietly, “She almost died.”

The blood seemed to drain from So’s face. The King’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open in horror. 

“And now?” So asked in a whisper. He was leaning forward, as though he wanted to reach out and shake the answer from Baek Ah.

“She is through the worst of it.” 

A long silence followed. Another thought popped into Baek Ah’s mind. Where were the questions about the baby? If So knew about the pregnancy, then surely now he would ask about the health of the child? 

“I am surprised you didn’t know, your Highness. Soo wrote you letters.”

A look of confusion crossed So’s face. 

“Letters… I didn’t get any,” So choked out. “I didn’t want to hear anything.”

He turned suddenly to the stack of documents next to his throne and started pawing through them. Papers flew to the ground. At the bottom of the pile So found a cluster of envelopes. He shuffled through them, reaching for what looked like the oldest and opening it first.

So’s eyes widened as he skimmed the page. It must have been a short note, because he was soon tearing open the next envelope. Baek Ah watched closely as he read.

So’s mouth was drawn into a thin line. By the end of the third letter, he looked ill. The King’s hands were shaking as he opened the final envelope. 

Baek Ah had never seen So this vulnerable. I wonder if she mentioned the pregnancy. As the thought crossed Baek Ah’s mind, So’s frown deepened.

“What is she saying?” So murmured. “What happened?” He looked up at Baek Ah. 

“What is this?” So demanded, holding up the letter. 

“Your Highness?”  Baek Ah asked carefully.

“Read them!” So insisted, thrusting the pile towards him.  “Tell me what happened” 

 Baek Ah stepped forward and took the letters. 

The calligraphy was uncannily similar to So’s handwriting. It felt wrong to read the messages, but Baek Ah didn’t have much choice. He smoothed out the paper.

So, 

It’s been a long time since we parted, but I still think of you each day. 

I’m scared that I’ll forget your voice or how it felt to catch your gaze. 

I daydream that you’ll come to find me and we’ll forgive each other for all the pain we caused. 

Nothing in the world would make me happier than to see you again. 

Yours forever,

Hae Soo

Baek Ah looked up awkwardly. “Your Highness, these seem private. Are you sure you want me to continue?” 

“Keep going,” So said. His tone left no room for argument. 

Baek Ah turned to the next sheet.

I came to sit by the water. However, the clouds had come...

There are so many moments I wish I could go back to. Remember when I first covered your scar? My hands were shaking. I was so nervous. I thought you’d hear my heart racing and throw me out, but then you looked at me with such trust. I had never felt that needed before. 

I love you. I didn’t say it enough when we were together. 

I wish more than anything that I could see you again. If I could make it to the palace I’d run to you now, but I can’t travel. I hope you get this in time and can come to me instead. I need you, So. 

Yours and only yours,

Hae Soo

The third letter was much shorter. It must have been sent before Hae Soo fell sick. 

Your Highness, please come. I haven’t asked you for much, but I’m asking this now. Please come to me. I need you. 

The final letter was smudged, as though droplets had fallen on the page. Baek Ah couldn’t imagine how Soo had found the strength to write again after the incident. It was a short goodbye. 

So, 

I waited for you. I hoped you would come. I wish you could have been there to hold my hand. 

I used to think that if I held out long enough, one day we’d be given our chance at happiness. But I can’t believe that anymore. There will always be new clouds on the horizon. There will always be a reason to turn away. In the end, all we have is what we choose. 

Our love has been burdened by so much sorrow; so much pain. I can’t go on like this, haunted by thoughts of what we lost. I had to bury my last piece of you. It breaks my heart. 

I hope you live a long and healthy life. Forget me and be happy. I will try to do the same. 

Hae Soo

Baek Ah felt his heart ache as he read those final lines. Soo... She hadn’t told So. In the end she’d suffered alone. 

“What happened between the last two letters?” he heard So asking. 

Baek Ah looked up. So was struggling to regain composure. 

“These past few months have been hard for Soo. It sounds like she’s finally moving on.”

“No,” So hissed. “It sounds like something happened. Something she needed me for… Something I missed. Soo has never asked for anything. Why would she suddenly write to me like this?” 

Baek Ah ducked his head. “I’m not sure, Your Highness.” 

“But she must have said something! In that last letter she sounded so… changed. Tell me what happened.” He was pleading now. 

“I don’t know, your Highness,” Baek Ah lied again. “Like I said, she was very sick.”

“What kind of sickness?” So said desperately.

The kind you never forget. “I’ve told you all I know.” 

So stared at him in frustration. He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. “Fine. I’ll find out some other way.” He held out his hand. 

Baek Ah handed back the letters. So stood up and stalked towards the door. Without so much as a backwards glance, So disappeared from view. 

Baek Ah let out a sigh. One thing was clear - it wasn’t So who’d sent the gifts. 

Chapter Text

-- Hae Soo -- 

Soo’s fever broke after a few hours, but Min Jee forced her to stay inside for a week to properly recuperate. 

“I had the strangest dream,” Soo told Jung when he came to check in on her.

“I met Baek Ah on the road to the village and he gave me a piggyback!” 

“It wasn’t a dream, Soo-yah. Baek Ah was here.”

“He was? Oh! I haven’t seen him in such a long time!” She struggled to sit up. “Where is he now?”

“He had to return to the palace. He was taking a risk coming here in the first place.”

“But I didn’t get a chance to talk to him!” Soo’s eyes filled with tears. 

“He promised to write,” Jung said softly. 

Soo took Baek Ah’s promise to heart. In the weeks that followed, she asked Min Jee to update her whenever a messenger stopped by the house. One afternoon the clucky midwife appeared by Soo’s side with the much awaited news; a letter had arrived. Soo hurried in search of Jung. 

She found him out in the yard practising archery. 

“Who was the letter from?” Soo asked hopefully. 

Jung pulled back his right arm, nocking an arrow in place. Sweat dripped off his brow. 

“Baek Ah,” he replied, letting the arrow fly. It thudded into a distant target. 

“What did he say?” 

“Soo,” Jung said, turning towards her reluctantly. “You know I’ll tell you everything if you ask, but your life is far-removed from the palace now. Are you sure you want to know?”

Soo felt a coldness spread through her gut. “If you don’t tell me I’ll imagine the worst.”

Jung sighed. “I wanted Baek Ah to find the one who sent the tea. He has a lot of influence at court. I thought that would be enough, but obviously the person responsible covered their tracks. There weren’t any clear answers,” Jung’s grip tightened around the bow, “though Baek Ah is sure it wasn’t So.” 

Soo released a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding. 

“Was that all?”

Jung looked away. “No. There was other news.”

“What?”

Jung didn’t answer right away. 

“Tell me. Whatever it is, I want to know.”

“The Queen is pregnant.”

Soo felt a lump in her throat. 

Jung nocked another arrow and pulled the bowstring taut. 

“Does it help?”

“What?” Jung asked, releasing his hold. The arrow hit its mark with a satisfying thump. 

“That. Does it make the anger go away?”  

Jung squeezed his eyes shut. 

“No. It’s just a brief distraction.”

“Show me how to do it.” 

“What?” Jung looked at her, confused. 

“I need a distraction. Will you teach me?”

He started to say something but stopped himself. She knew it was an unusual request. Women in this age were meant to practice embroidery, not archery, but if she had to spend another day stuck indoors she thought she might snap and stab herself with a needle. 

“This bow is a little heavy for you. Let me see,” he walked to a nearby rack and pulled back a piece of cloth. Underneath were a number of bows that clearly hadn’t been used in a long time. They were smaller than the other weapons on the rack. Jung pulled one out and ran his hand over the surface.

“It’s a bit dusty, but it’s still in good condition. I used to train with this when I was little.”

“It’s for children?” 

“You have small hands.” Jung explained. “It will help you get used to the movements. Once you’ve learned the technique you can work your way up to heavier bows.”

Soo nodded. She guessed it would take a while for her to learn the basics. She’d never done anything like archery before. Jung handed her the delicate bow and picked up his own. He began demonstrating the technique; how to curl her fingers around the center of the bow and position the arrow on the knuckle of her thumb, how to pull back the bowstring with her other hand, holding the arrow in place, and finally how to release it. 

Soo felt clumsy mimicking the movements. Jung walked around behind her.

“Move your feet slightly further apart. You’ll feel more stable. And this arm needs to come out further,” he said, gently pulling her right arm back. 

Soo liked holding the bow. The wood felt cool and smooth in her hands.  She wasn’t able to hold the bowstring for long before her arm started wobbling, and her first attempt at releasing an arrow was a failure, but Jung was right about one thing; it was a distraction. For the few minutes she was concentrating on the arrow everything else slipped from her mind. 

“Don’t worry, it gets easier,” Jung assured her. “Your arms aren’t used to it yet, but they’ll get stronger with practice.” 

Soo was grateful for the lesson. She didn’t need another person to tell her to be careful. Taking care was for the living, and she had long since stopped counting herself among that number. What she needed was something to pass the time; something to keep her thoughts busy while she waited for fate to finish its story. What she needed was this. 

--------

It was a cold morning and Soo’s knee was aching. For the past week she’d been waking up with a restless feeling. She couldn’t remember the details of her dreams; only the feeling of them. Nameless enemies were taunting her. She hobbled towards the wardrobe. She couldn’t do anything about the pain, but she’d found a way to numb her other feelings. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and headed out to the yard. 

The gear was where she’d left it. She took time warming up; slowly stretching the tired parts of her body. When she felt ready, she picked up the bow and positioned herself before the target. 

As usual, she lost track of time. Some days she only stopped practising when her arms gave way. Once she’d been interrupted by a servant coming to fetch her for dinner. But now, she had the whole day before her. She was going to keep going until she had no energy left for thoughts; until she could collapse into oblivion. 

It was midmorning when Jung spotted her on his way across the yard. Hae Soo’s eyes were locked on the target. Sweat was running down her temple. 

Soo pulled another arrow from the sheath. Was this the tenth? The 100th? She’d lost track long ago. She’d been back and forward across the yard. Loosing, collecting. Loosing, collecting. She was operating on automatic now, barely aware of her surroundings. In her mind she was travelling back in time and changing the past.

She remembered Wang Yo firing at Eun. She notched an arrow and let it fly. It hit the target straight in the center. She thought of the 9th Prince plotting to poison Wang Mu. She let another arrow loose. It came to rest by the first. She thought of the palace guards beating Chae-ryung to death. Another arrow found its mark. The fourth was the same. She was getting to the end. Her arm was already shaking. “One more”, she thought, “then I can rest”. This time she pictured Queen Daemok standing in the palace foyer, a look of victory on her face as she gave a messenger a small wooden box. She notched the final arrow, and let it fly. It split through the first arrow she had fired, and came to rest directly in the centre. 

She heard someone let out a breath, and turned to see Jung staring at her with a look of disbelief.

“Soo!” Jung started, shaking his head in amazement. “Five arrows!” He looked around the yard as if to find other witnesses for what he’d just seen, then shook his head and turned back to Hae Soo with a laugh. “Who are you?”

In a few seconds he’d crossed the yard.

“I can’t believe it! When did this happen?” Jung was beaming down at her, “I’ll have to take you into battle! You’ll be the army’s secret weapon!“ 

Hae Soo was so startled by his excitement that she laughed. It was a wild, unexpected laugh. Now that it had started, she couldn’t seem to stop. Jung was laughing too. He grabbed her around the waist and lifted her up chanting “Hae Soo! Hae Soo! Hae Soo!” She shrieked at the sudden altitude.

“Put me down!” she tried to protest, but was laughing too hard. By the time she was back on the ground, they were both out of breath, clutching their sides and trying to stifle further giggles. It was then that they heard someone coughing loudly behind them. They spun around. Standing a few metres away, with a look of bemused disapproval on his face was Baek Ah. Jung and Soo sprang apart. Soo felt a deep blush spread across her face.

Baek Ah raised an eyebrow and shot a questioning look at Jung, who was studying the ground. Soo felt momentarily dazed.

“Baek Ah! You’re here!” 

Baek Ah was still examining Jung, but turned towards Soo when he heard the excitement in her voice.

“I have something important to tell you both, if you can spare a moment.”

“Of course! Right this way!” She led Baek Ah to one of the outdoor pavilions with Jung trailing behind, and asked a servant to bring them tea.

“We didn’t expect to see you so soon after your last visit,” Soo said, studying Baek Ah. He looked unusually serious. “Is everything alright?” 

“I have important news.” He said, turning to Jung. “The King has revoked your exile, brother.” 

“He did what?” Jung gasped.

“He announced it yesterday to the whole court. You’re no longer bound to this place.” 

Jung’s eyes widened as he looked from Baek Ah to Soo. 

“Why? Why now?”

Baek Ah frowned. “No one knows, but I have my suspicions…” He glanced at Soo, then shared a look with Jung, whose expression darkened.

“...which brings me to the second piece of news. There’s going to be a gathering at the palace to celebrate His Majesty’s first year as King. All the powerful families have been invited. His Majesty has requested that you both attend.” 

“He wants us to return?” Jung asked angrily. “Is he mad? Soo barely managed to make it out of there! And he wants us to go back?” 

“Jung,” Baek Ah said seriously, “it’s his Majesty’s special wish to be reunited with his brother. This is not something you can refuse.” 

“What about Soo, then? She isn’t needed at the palace! She can stay here.” 

Baek Ah let out a bitter laugh. “Jung. Don’t be naive. You know as well as I do the purpose of this sudden reunification”. 

“She’s not well enough to travel.” Jung said through gritted teeth. 

The brothers glared at each other. Their tea was getting cold. 

“I’ll go,” Soo said quietly. It took a moment for her words to register. 

“Soo - ” Jung started. 

“I said I’ll go.”

“But you’re only just starting to get better! You don’t know what it’ll be like there. You don’t know how long you’ll have to stay.” There was frustration in Jung’s tone, but Soo could also sense panic. He knew as well as she did the effect So had on her. After seeing him, would she want to come back?

“I have to, Jung. There’s no other way.” He wouldn’t look at her. His eyes were fixed on the floor, his hands clenched around the fabric of his tunic. She turned to Baek Ah. “When will the celebration take place?”

“Three days from now. It’s short notice, I know, but when the King wants something…” he trailed off, leaving those awkward words hanging. Soo’s mind flashed back to the days when she was called the ‘King’s woman’. After everything that had happened, that label made her skin crawl. She tried to distract herself, running her hands over the fabric of her robe to straighten out the wrinkles.  

“It takes at least a day to ride there… We’ll have to leave soon. I should pack.” She got up, trying not to look too pitiful as her stiff knee hindered her movements. “Will you be travelling back with us, Baek Ah?” 

“If you don’t mind.” 

“Good,” Hae Soo smiled bravely, “I’ll see you in the morning.” With a last “good night”, she turned and left them to their silence. 

-- Baek Ah -- 

When he thought Hae Soo was no longer in earshot, Baek Ah turned to his brother. 

“What are you doing?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. What's going on between you and Soo?” 

Jung looked away. 

“You don’t actually have feelings for her, do you?” 

A look of helplessness flitted across Jung’s face. 

“How foolish of you,” Baek Ah sighed. “There isn’t a person in the whole palace who doesn’t know about her relationship with the king. Do you think this invitation is a coincidence? Do you think she’ll simply return with you once the celebration is over?”

Jung remained silent. 

“This whole marriage was a foolish idea. She’s not yours, brother. She never has been. She’s his person.” 

“Stop.” Jung whispered. “Please stop.” His hands were shaking. 

Perhaps Jung had never expected Soo to love him in the same way he loved her, but he clearly thought they would at least stay together. 

“What can I do?” Jung pleaded.

Baek Ah put a hand on his shoulder. “Nothing, brother. You have to let her go.” 

---------

The journey to the palace was a draining, dismal affair. Jung rode with his head down, shoulders slumped, while Baek Ah peered around at the landscape nervously. Hae Soo was quiet most of the way. She didn’t know how to ride, so Jung had hired four villagers to carry her in a palanquin. Their progress was slow, which only added to the tension. 

Baek Ah tried to lighten the mood with stories over meal times, but his companions both seemed lost in thought. 

“How has he been?” Soo asked out of the blue on their final day, as they were finishing lunch around a small campfire. 

Baek Ah noticed a faint blush spread across Soo’s cheeks.

“Who?” 

“The King.”

“Ah… His mood changes so often, it’s hard to say,” Baek Ah rubbed his temple. “I think for the most part he’s been well, but it seems lonely.”

“What does?”

“Being King. There aren’t many people he can trust.” 

Jung prodded the fire with a stick but remained silent. There were dark shadows under Jung’s eyes. Baek Ah could sense his unease growing as they drew closer to the palace. 

“Is the Queen truly pregnant?”

The sadness in Soo’s voice caused Jung to look up.

“She is,” Baek Ah answered.

Soo wrapped her arms around her stomach. She looked so fragile in that moment, as though a falling leaf could shred her to pieces. 

“When’s the baby due?”

“The start of summer.” Jung shot Baek Ah a warning look. Baek Ah raised an eyebrow. Do you think it’s better if she finds out later?

“Our little one would have been a few months old by then.” Soo’s voice was barely a whisper, but her words seemed to echo around the glade.  

Jung rose suddenly and stalked away through the trees. 

“He hates me for agreeing to come.”

“No,” Baek Ah tried to reassure her, “he’s just worried.”

“I don’t want to go back,” Soo stared into the fire with unfocussed eyes. “But I have to know.”

Baek Ah didn’t press her. He couldn’t begin to imagine how she felt. 

“Can I ask you something, Baek Ah?”

Soo was still staring off into the distance. For a second he wondered if he had misheard. “Hm?”

“Can you look after Jung? Make sure he doesn’t get hurt?” 

I don’t think that’s up to me, Baek Ah thought. Whatever awaited them at the palace, it would be difficult for everyone involved. He considered giving her an honest answer, but the sight of her hunched shoulders stopped him.

“I will. But Soo -”

She glanced at him. 

“You have to decide. Don’t let others force your hand.” 

She straightened slightly in response and he thought he saw the tips of her fingers twitch. 

Chapter Text

-- Hae Soo --

The sun was dipping low in the sky by the time they reached the palace. Baek Ah headed straight for the throne room to report to So. The rest of the party was greeted by a stern-looking official, dressed in lavish clothing, standing before a group of watchful servants. The official pursed his lips as Jung helped Soo from the palanquin.   

“Welcome back, your Highness,” the man said, bowing, once Soo and Jung were standing before him. “Your arrival has been much anticipated.” His eyes darted to Soo. 

“Lady Hae,” he bowed again. “Welcome back. I trust you are in good health?” 

Soo couldn’t recall crossing paths with this nobleman before, but something about the way his eyes lingered made her skin crawl. She felt as though her slightest movements were being tracked and scrutinised so that they could be recounted in detail to some hostile third party. 

“I am well,” Soo forced a reply. 

After the formalities had been concluded the official led Jung and Soo to a well-furnished room in a nearby wing of the palace.   

“It is fortunate that you were able to make it to the celebration on such short notice. The King has assigned you these quarters for the duration of your stay. I hope everything is to your liking.” As the man spoke his eyes fell on a pile of fabric in the corner of the room. He licked his lips. “His Majesty is looking forward to seeing you both at the banquet tonight. To honour your return he has prepared a few gifts...” The man left the words hanging, as though waiting for their significance to sink in. Soo glanced in the direction of the gifts. Clothing?

“Well, I’ll leave you now. I’m sure you’ll need some time to settle in and rest after your long journey.” The man bowed a final time and backed from the room, leaving a handful of servants hovering by the door like flies that had suddenly lost their favourite farm animal.

“Do you need any help changing?” One of the older female servants asked. 

Jung was still looking in the direction of the door with a frown, clearly bothered by the man’s behaviour. 

“No, but could you bring us some hot water? I’d like to wash up.” The servants bowed and hurried away. 

Soo walked towards the gifts. The top item was wrapped in a piece of ivory silk. Soo gently tugged at the tie holding the bundle together and the fabric fell open, revealing a brilliant red and navy hanbok. 

He kept it all this time. 

There was no mistaking the embroidery. Golden dragons paced the length of the collar and delicate flowers adorned the sleeves. It was the robe she had been given the day So married Yeon-hwa and she had officially become the King’s mistress.  

She ran her index finger over the stitching with numb recognition. How many hours had someone toiled to create these artworks? 

Jung came to her side and took in the clothes.

“The King had this made for you?” 

Soo nodded. He wants me to wear it, she thought. He wants to return to that time and pretend like nothing happened. 

“Will you wear it tonight?” 

Underneath the familiar hanbok was a forest green gwanbok with a circle of embroidery across the chest, accompanied by a finely-wrought gold belt and black slippers. They were clothes fit for a prince, but they didn’t match the hanbok in any way. 

It’s an invitation, Soo realised. He’ll make peace with Jung, but only if I stay. 

Soo felt her hands balling into fists, crushing the delicate silk she held between her fingers. She felt a sudden urge to set the robe on fire; to shred it beyond repair and scatter the ruined pieces from the parapets.

I can’t do this. She turned away from the pile. 

“No,” Soo answered firmly. Her voice sounded cold to her own ears. She couldn’t calm the storm of thoughts in her mind or process the worry in Jung’s eyes at that moment. It took every ounce of willpower to remain standing there; to not flee for the gates. 

What if something happened to Jung or Baek Ah now that she was back? What if she became a pawn in another round of palace warfare? 

Her heart hammered against her ribcage. She wasn’t sure how she would get through the next few hours, let alone the next few days, but she knew one thing; she couldn’t step back into the shoes of the person she was before. 

She turned away from Jung and tried not to think about the long-awaited moment, approaching now with dreadful speed, where she’d have to look upon So and pretend that everything was okay. 

--------

The palace grounds were humming with activity. Celebrations were a common enough occurrence in palace life, but the scale of festivities on this particular evening were beyond any Soo had previously experienced. There were dignitaries and ambassadors, painted entertainers and finely-clothed musicians; all seem to be jostling for a position within the King’s line of sight. 

Soo clung to Jung’s side as they approached the dining area. She had chosen a pale blue hanbok with delicate ivory flowers stitched along the sleeves and a sky blue skirt. She had hoped the cheerful colours would help her blend in with the other guests on this temperate spring night, but the fashion of the court had clearly changed in the time she had been gone. The other women Soo spotted were dressed in rich hues of maroon, gold and dark green. Her choice seemed strikingly informal by comparison, and in the sea of darker fabrics her hanbok stood out like a pearl against black sand. 

Jung noticed Soo fretting with her skirt and leaned down to whisper, “You look beautiful.”

Soo couldn’t meet his eyes. She was struggling to fight back a wave of panic. 

There was an opening in the crowd before the King; a space where noblemen could step forward to greet His Majesty. 

As the crowd shifted to let a couple through, Soo finally caught sight of So and the world seemed to grow quiet. It was not that the other guests had fallen silent; but rather the rushing of blood in Soo’s ears masked every sound beside her heartbeat. 

There had been so many mornings of late where she had woken feeling refreshed, telling herself she had forgotten him; that she was finally free and could live the rest of her life untroubled by the guilt and heartache of their parting. But seeing him again in that moment brought it all back.  

So hadn’t caught sight of her yet; or perhaps he had and was pretending she wasn’t there. It was cruel, the way two people who had shared so much could suddenly feel so distant. She didn’t know what mood the King was in. There were so many different versions of So and his temperament was as changeable as a spring storm; he could swing from jubilant to wrathful in a matter of seconds. But it’s him, Soo’s heart whispered. It’s really him.   

So looked imposing, perched high on his throne in black and gold silk. The Queen was sitting to his right, elegant hands cupped over her swollen belly, red lips stretched wide in a supercilious smile. 

For a second Soo forgot to lift her feet and tripped on the cobbled ground. She would have fallen forward were it not for Jung, who saw her stumble and quickly tucked an arm underneath her to steady her course. Soo’s clumsiness did not go unnoticed. A nearby group of noblemen eyed her intently and a murmur seemed to pass outwards through the crowd, like the spread of spilled wine across a table. Heads began to turn in her direction. 

They were near the front of the gathering. I just need to hear his voice. The last few steps were torturous. She wished she was as fit and graceful as she’d once been. Her stiff gait and boney frame were pitiful, and she felt embarrassed for So to see her in this reduced state. 

Still, in the moment that his eyes found hers, those considerations seemed to melt away. She was, for a few precious seconds, deliriously happy. It was as though his eyes held all the love they had once shared, and she was instantly transported back to the height of their joy. He was still handsome, and she could see from his gaze that she was still beautiful too. Why had they ever drifted apart when they were so clearly made to be together? 

The feeling, however, was cut short, as all their happy moments were, by the shadow of another figure.   

“Hae Soo, I didn’t think we’d get the chance to see you!” Yeon-hwa said with a tight smile. “My goodness, how thin you are! Have you been ill? I thought the countryside was supposed to be restorative, but from your complexion one would never guess! I do hope you’re getting enough to eat.” 

Soo’s skin was beginning to itch under the spotlight of Yeon-hwa’s gaze. She felt the crowd pressing tightly around her to overhear the conversation, like wasps swarming around a drop of honey. Jung’s arm was the only reassuring presence. She held it tightly.

“Are you well?” So asked. 

He looked conflicted, as though any second he might launch himself off the throne and gather her up into his arms, but some deeper voice was counselling him against that course of action. 

Soo didn’t know how to respond. It was such an innocuous question, but there was no way to answer it simply. Of course I’m not! She wanted to cry. How could you leave me like that! The joy she had felt moments before was burning away, replaced by a terrifying sense of isolation. 

If he had moved in that moment; taken some step towards her and bridged the gap, she could have forgiven him for almost anything, but he remained sitting on the throne. 

“I wanted to thank your Majesty for inviting us,” Soo said, dropping into a bow. “Jung and I are so grateful to be welcome at court again.” It was not a reply to his question. It was a statement of no real substance beside formalities, and it pained Soo that she should be on such terms with So, but the crush of the crowd and the growing buzz of gossip was driving her to retreat. 

“Of course. I’m so very glad to have my brother by my side again.” The irony of So’s statement was not lost on Yeon-hwa or the wider crowd. A nearby courtier chuckled. Soo saw a flash of rage cross Yeon-hwa’s face, followed by a strained smile.  

“Do let us know if you need anything while you are here, Hae Soo. As you know the palace is well-equipped. And perhaps you might enjoy a restorative brew in the garden? I’ve heard the right blend of tea can do wonders for pesky ailments.” 

So turned to stare at Yeon-hwa. He doesn’t know, Soo realised. He thinks she’s referring to the previous poisoning. 

“Yes, your Majesty,” was all Soo could manage. 

She fought a rising surge of nausea as she backed away, tugging Jung’s arm until they were once again absorbed by the crowd. Soo kept walking, feeling the eyes of curious onlookers upon her as she dragged Jung across the courtyard. 

Eventually she stopped and leaned against a column. She closed her eyes. Deep breaths. The worst is over. 

“Soo-yah,” she felt Jung lay a hand on her arm. “What can I do?”

She shook her head. She wanted to disappear. 

“Is she alright?” 

Soo opened her eyes to find Baek Ah standing next to them. “You know Soo, if you’re going to look tipsy, you might as well get some enjoyment out of the situation and actually drink.” He held out a cup of rice wine. 

Soo suddenly had a flashback to her life before Goryeo, when she was drinking to forget her good-for-nothing boyfriend. 

“Go easy on her Baek Ah, she needs rest.” 

Soo accepted the cup from Baek Ah’s outstretched hand and downed it. 

“Soo!” 

She blinked twice before turning to Jung. He was hovering, torn between standing by and taking charge. Soo didn’t know what to say to him in this setting. The whole thing felt unnatural, like they were animals in an exhibit. They were standing apart from the crowd, but she could still see people glancing over and whispering behind their hands.   

“Is there food?” she asked Baek Ah, desperate for a distraction. 

He smiled. “Enough to feed a bunch of greedy nobles!” 

Soo could feel the wine working its way through her veins by the time Baek Ah returned with a platter. Jung was still silent, his eyes sweeping the courtyard periodically, vigilant against any potential danger. 

“I was the first to get to the banquet table! I got all the best things!” 

It was a spread the likes of which Hae Soo hadn’t seen in years. Seafood, meat, fruit and vegetables of every kind. She felt her mouth water. When was the last time she’d craved food? 

They found a ledge in the garden to sit on. “Is it terribly uncivilised of us to eat outside?” Soo wondered, popping a grape into her mouth.

“Well if anyone notices, doubtless they’ll attribute it to your country-bumpkin status and my hardened soldier lifestyle.” Baek Ah was reclining against a stone wall. He drew a flask from inside his jacket and arranged a few small glasses on the ledge, pouring a clear liquor into each one. 

“Let’s make a toast,” he proposed, passing them each a glass. “To better days?”

“To better days,” Soo agreed, sipping the cool liquid. She didn’t want to think about So’s reserved greeting, Yeon-hwa’s cold stare or the taunting bulge of her belly. Those images would come back to Soo time and again, she was sure. For now, she just wanted to focus on the smooth stone beneath her legs and the slight burn of soju as it slipped down her throat. 

“Well, your arrival has certainly caused a stir,” Baek Ah said.

“It’s ridiculous,” Jung finally spoke. “How can Yeon-hwa say things like that with impunity? It’s like there’s a target painted on Soo’s back!”

“So doesn’t know about the tea.” Why did she still feel a need to defend him? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?

“Whether he knows or not is irrelevant. The question is whether you’re safe here.”

Baek Ah sighed. “No one is ever safe at court. Soo least of all.”

“So you agree!” Jung leapt up. “We should never have come here…”

“Sit down, brother. You know you had to come. It’s not over until the King says it is.” 

Soo brushed a hand over her skirt and lowered herself off the ledge. 

“Excuse me for a moment.” 

“Where are you going?” 

Soo blushed slightly. “To the bathroom.”

“I’ll come with you,” Jung said. 

“No, please. I know my way around.” 

“Come on Jung, she lived here for years. She won’t get lost.” 

Jung shot her a worried look. “Alright, but hurry back.” 

Soo could hear Baek Ah teasing Jung as she walked away.

“Honestly, you fret like a grandmother. Are you sure you’re the younger one, Halmeoni?”

--------

The dark corridors of the palace were a welcome break from the buzz of the celebration. Soo found a place to rest and wash her face. She caught her reflection in a plate of polished bronze and touched a hand to her cheek. After months of barely eating, her cheekbones cut a sharp line, and her eyes seemed darker than before, but she didn’t look as haggard as she expected she would. Why isn’t there a trace of you on my face? She still talked to her little one. It was a hard habit to break. 

On her way back to the courtyard she heard a rustle of robes to her left, and then a hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her through a doorway. 

“Soo-yah,” the shadow said, wrapping her into a hug. “It’s been too long.”

She pulled back, taking in the full splendour of So. His robes glistened in the moonlight. His dark hair was neatly tied back and he was still applying the make-up perfectly. He'd never looked more beautiful. 

Still, the sight of him pained her in a way that it never had before. 

“What’s wrong? You don’t look happy to see me.”

Am I happy? There was so much left unsaid between them. Where do I start?

“I missed you,” she whispered. 

“I missed you, too,” So said, moving closer. Soo took a few steps back, desperately trying to put space between them. She couldn’t focus when he was too close. 

“I can’t stand this place.” 

“We can go somewhere else.” He was full of energy, eager to grant wishes. She thought of all the previous chances at happiness that they’d squandered, and wondered how far this desire to be with her would take them. 

“If I asked you to give up the throne and run away with me right now, would you do it?”

A flash of frustration crossed So’s face. “You know how hard I fought for this. You can’t ask me to give it up.”

“No, I can’t.” Her voice was unexpectedly bitter. Was his love really that shallow? “But you also know what it’s like for me here. You can’t ask me to stay.”

“Are you going to leave me all alone?”

“You’re not alone. You have a wife. You’ll soon have a child.”

“She’s not my true wife - you know that. I’ve only ever needed you.” 

Soo buried her face in her hands. “Stop. Please don’t. I know you think that’s what I want to hear, but it’s not. I was never your wife. You chose this,” Soo gestured around the ornate room. She thought of the Queen’s round belly. “You chose her.” 

So’s face darkened. She turned to leave, but So grabbed her arm. 

“Do you love him?” 

“What?”

“Do you love Jung? Is that why you’re trying to leave?”

Soo felt a flash of anger. “I loved you! I would have waited forever! I kept telling myself you’d forgive me; that you’d come find me and we’d finally be together.”

“I do forgive you! Stay here and I’ll protect you.” He tried to put his arms around her. 

Soo struggled to get free. 

“Protect me? How can you say that after all that’s happened? Every time I see you now I feel sick. You’re partly the reason she’s dead!” 

“You’re still bothered by that? I told you - she was a spy! She was only pretending to be your friend!”

Soo shut her eyes. Chae-rung. He thinks I’m talking about Chae-rung. Perhaps it was better this way. 

“I’m tired.”

“Don’t do this, Soo. Don’t let this come between us again.”

“I’d like to be excused, your Majesty.” She hung her head. 

“You look pale.” He cupped a hand to her cheek. 

His touch triggered a wave of memories. Each one was like a needle through Soo’s heart. 

“I can’t forget their faces,” Soo whispered. “I keep seeing them at night.”

So wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly to him. The celebration, his warmth, this hug - it all felt wrong. Soo was finding it hard to breathe, as though the room were filled with invisible smoke. She stood frozen in So’s arms, counting each second, waiting for him to release his hold. 

“Stay with me,” he murmured.

He couldn’t feel the damage to her body. He couldn’t see the scars on her soul. The idea of spending another night with him made Soo’s heart pound in terror. I can’t go through it again. 

“Please,” she choked out, “let go.” 

So took a step back, adjusting his hold. 

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t breathe.”

“I’ll call for a doctor, I -”

“No. It’s this place. I can’t stay. It’s too much.” She rubbed a hand over her heart. It was beating erratically.

So clutched her other hand. “Tell me we’ll be together.” 

Why was this so hard? 

“I can’t,” she felt numb as she said the words. She tried to ignore the hurt in So’s eyes. 

“What happened, Soo? You’ve changed so much. I heard you were sick but it seems more than that… You sound different. Is it Jung? Did he hurt you?”

She snatched her hand away. 

“Don’t! He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“I’m just trying to understand!”

“Did you read my letters?”

So looked uncomfortable. “I didn’t read them at first... I thought they were from Jung - the envelopes were in his handwriting! - but I’ve read them now.” 

“I was going through a really hard time. I needed you, but you weren’t there.”

She thought of the endless afternoons sitting inside, waiting for nightfall; waiting for the time she could go back to sleep with the quiet hope that this time she wouldn’t wake up.

“That’s when I realised - it doesn’t matter.”

“What?”

Life is pain and then you die. She placed a hand on his forearm.

“We chose different paths and there’s no going back. Even if we live a thousand lives there’ll still be things we regret. We can’t blame ourselves.”

There’s no moral to this story; just a string of horrible events.

She heard a voice calling her name from the other side of the door. She slipped around So and pulled it open. 

A startled figure jumped back. It was Yeon-hwa. The Queen had clearly been eavesdropping. 

So ignored Yeon-hwa and reached for Soo. “I still love you,” he said. 

I know, Soo thought, squeezing her eyes shut. I wish it were enough. She couldn’t ignore the image of Yeon-hwa’s swollen belly or the stench of perfume creeping into the room. It was impossible to put the pieces back the way they were. 

Soo heard her name being called again and turned towards the source. Baek Ah and Jung had rounded the corner of the corridor. They stopped when they caught sight of So. The King was still holding onto Soo’s wrist. Jung took a step forward, but Baek Ah placed a restraining hand on his shoulder. 

“Your Majesty, please let me go,” Soo asked one last time. She wouldn’t have the strength to say it again.

The So she once knew would have held on; he would never have believed the coolness of her tone - but they had both changed. 

So’s fingers relaxed and her arm fell free. 

Soo slipped past the Queen and started down the corridor towards the others. She avoided Jung’s eyes as she walked. She couldn’t bear any more disappointment. 

“We were worried,” Baek Ah said when she reached them. “There are so many guards on duty tonight - we thought something might have happened.”

No one is ever safe here. 

“Are you okay?” Baek Ah asked.

She gave a small nod, refusing to let tears spill over. Jung was staring at the ground, hands balled by his side. 

“We’ll take you back to your room,” Baek Ah offered, nudging Jung with his elbow. 

“Oh - yes.” Jung held out his arm for support.  

Soo didn’t take it. The night air was warm, like breath passing over her skin in a whisper. She walked on with a single thought pulsing through her brain. They might call her a bad friend, a faithless lover and a miserable wife, but there was one thing she never wanted to be labelled again after this night: his person. 

-- Baek-ah --

The sky was clear and brimming with stars. Baek Ah didn’t have much experience in stargazing. Soo had once tried to teach him the names of the constellations during a night of drinking, but all he could remember was the laughter in her voice. The names eluded him completely.

“She’s asleep now,” Jung’s voice came from behind. 

“That’s good.”

Jung found a place beside him. They sat in silence for a while, legs dangling off the porch. Petals drifted through the air. The palace was frustratingly beautiful at this time of year. The cheerful blossoms reminded Baek Ah of things he would rather forget. Woo Hee always wore flowers in her hair. He had planted some on the hill where she lay. 

 “What do you think happened?” Jung asked. Baek Ah thought back to the scene they had witnessed in the corridor. He had seen the King talking to Soo on countless occasions, but never with that level of desperation. 

“I don’t know. Soo looked pretty shaken, but I think she would have told us if something bad happened.”

“Do you think he asked her to stay?”

“Perhaps.”

“How can she still trust him after all that’s happened?” 

“Jung, it isn’t our business.”

“If he hurts her again...”

“He didn’t know about the pregnancy,” Baek Ah sighed. “He couldn’t have sent the tea.”

“I’m not talking about that. I know she loves him. All the letters she wrote; the months she waited... But So wasn’t there. He’ll never understand. He thinks she was doing fine without him. He wouldn’t have recognised her.” 

Baek Ah placed a hand on Jung’s back. 

“She’s lucky to have a friend like you.”

“Fools attract fools,” Jung muttered. 

“What if she chooses to stay? Are you ready for that?”

“No.” Jung stared off into the distance. “I had all these dreams of what it would be like living together. We’d go for walks and tell each other stories. I'd read her poems... Small things like that. I imagined them happening year after year.”

“Have you told her?”

“What?”

“This. What you’re telling me now.” 

Jung shook his head. “It wouldn’t matter. Like you said - I’m just a friend.” 

“I still don’t understand how this happened... You never showed the slightest interest in any of the women I introduced you to over the years. Why Soo?”

Jung looked down at his hands. “Because it’s her. She really cares. Somehow she makes me care, too.”

“Ah, Soo… The same thing happened with Eun. I don’t think she realises the effect she has.”

The wind rustled through a nearby tree, triggering a new cascade of blossoms. 

“I don’t stand a chance, do I?” Jung’s hair had grown long and there were new lines on his face, but he was still handsome. 

You could win the heart of any woman you want. Just not her. 

“I guess time will tell.” 

Jung’s shoulders slumped. “That’s what I thought.”

-- Hae Soo -- 

Soo was standing in a marble gallery surrounded by spotlights. So was walking towards her in a tuxedo, smiling broadly. The vision was so outlandish Soo knew right away it was a dream. 

“I’ll find you,” So’s voice echoed in the background.

Stop. I want to forget. 

Soo forced her eyes open. The room was dark but the painted walls were familiar. The palace, she thought, rubbing a hand over her chest. Her heart was still racing from the dream. Jung had agreed to sleep elsewhere for the night, aware that So would be keeping a close eye on her. Soo suddenly wished she were back in the countryside. 

I shouldn’t have come. It was a mistake to think returning would help her find closure. If So hadn’t become King, if he hadn’t married Yeon-hwa… There were so many what-ifs. It’s my fault, too. I never wanted to be Queen. I turned him down. She had lied to So when she said the past didn’t matter. She hated how often she thought back on it; she couldn’t stop blaming herself. 

The faint smell of crushed camphor and wisteria blossoms drifted across the room. Soo suddenly felt claustrophobic. She slipped on a pair of shoes and ducked outside. 

Weeks of archery practice had given her more strength, but she still walked with a slight limp. She trailed along the edge of the building until she reached a small courtyard. 

A familiar voice came from behind. “Soo - is everything alright?” 

She spun around to see Jung sitting on the edge of the porch.

“I needed some air.” 

Jung nodded but didn’t get up. It felt like a line had been drawn between them. Soo wondered if he was mad at her. She drew shapes in the dirt with her foot. 

“What’s on your mind?” Jung asked after a while. 

“So mentioned something earlier. He said that when he first got my letters, he didn’t recognise them because your handwriting was on the envelopes.” Soo cocked her head to one side. “Why?”

Jung ran a hand through his hair. “Your calligraphy is almost identical to his. I thought it would confuse the messenger, so I put them in new envelopes.”

“Did you know he wouldn’t read them?”

“No! Of course not.”

“It’s okay. I don’t blame you. I’m just trying to understand.”

“Soo - I would never do something like that. I know how much you wanted to see him.” 

Soo didn’t reply. She struggled to think back on that time. It was like trying to dig up the memories of another person. 

“You don’t believe me?” Jung sounded anxious.

“I do.” She could see his shoulders relax. 

Jung hesitated before asking the next question. “What else did you talk about?” 

“The past.” Soo continued drawing lines in the dirt, the tip of her shoe bruising petals as it moved. 

“Did you tell him about the baby?” 

“No.” The sharpness of her reply seemed harsh. “It wouldn’t change anything.” 

She could sense a wall between them. He’s waiting for me to tell him something, Soo realised. It was the first time she had ever felt self-conscious in Jung’s presence.

“You have to decide,” Baek Ah’s words came back to her. 

“Can I ask you something, Jung?”

“Go ahead.”

“Is there anything you want? Something you’ve always dreamed of having?”

“Why do you ask?” His tone was cautious. 

She edged closer so she could see his face more clearly.

“If I asked you to let go of that thing you really want - to give up being a prince, living a life of comfort, everything - and run away with me, what would you say?”

“Is that a serious question?”

“Yes.”

“Ha. Okay sure, when do we leave?” 

The spring air made Soo feel reckless. 

“How about now?”

“Wait - you actually want to leave?”

“Yes.” 

“With me?”

“Yes.” 

“Right now?”

Soo folded her arms across her chest. “We can stay here if you prefer.”

“That’s not-” Jung stopped and rubbed a hand over his forehead. “I’m just trying to understand.” He looked around the courtyard. “What about So?”

“Are you backing out?”

“No - but I don’t want you to do something you might later regret.” 

“Trust me, I want this. I really, desperately want this.” Jung’s eyebrows shot up. He studied her for a long moment. His expression was wary, as though waiting for a catch, but he couldn’t hide the longing in his eyes. 

A playful breeze swirled around Soo’s feet. The air between them suddenly felt warm. 

Despite all the terrible things that she’d witnessed at the palace, she knew she would smile when she looked back on this moment. Jung leapt off the porch with cat-like grace and bounded towards her. 

“Really?” He couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice. 

“Really.” 

“I don’t know how quickly I can arrange transport. It might take a while for me to find enough men, but-” 

“Can’t I ride with you?” 

Jung’s eyes widened. “I guess you could… I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” 

Soo nodded. “It’ll be faster.” 

Jung was watching her with disbelief, as though any second she might disappear in a cloud of smoke. 

“Let me get my cloak,” Soo said. “Shall we meet at the front gate?”

“I’ll need to find a horse,” Jung sounded dazed. 

“Okay, I’ll meet you there soon.” She turned to leave.

“Wait,” Jung put a hand out to stop her. He looked torn. “Are you sure?”  

Soo gave him a reassuring smile. 

“Yes. I won’t be long. And if you don’t find a horse - I’ll walk.”

Chapter Text

The dark road stretched out before them. Branches rustled in the breeze and cast long shadows on the path. 

Soo was tucked against Jung’s chest. The gentle swaying of the horse combined with the warmth of his body was lulling her into a meditative state. Neither of them had spoken for a long time. 

Their journey out of town had been mostly straightforward. A young guard at the gate had initially denied their request to leave, but thankfully his superior had recognised Jung.

“It’s good to see you travelling freely again!” The man said, clasping Jung’s hand in greeting. 

“You know me, Kang Min-Ho, I don’t like to stay put for long. Still, I hope our sudden departure doesn’t get you in trouble.”

“Well, next time you’re passing through you can buy me a drink to make up for it.”

No alarm bells sounded as they made their way past the city walls. 

“We served in the army together,” Jung explained once they were out in the open. “He saved my neck more than a few times.”

“I’m glad he let us go.”

“Mm. I wonder how much time we have before he’s ordered to fetch us back.”

“So wouldn’t do that. Anyway, I wrote a letter saying goodbye.”

Jung didn’t respond. 

“What is it?” Soo eventually prompted. 

“Nothing. I just… I was afraid you’d have to stay.”

I was worried too. The main feeling coursing through her now was relief. I’m finally free of that place! Still, there was a seam of confusion in her thoughts. She’d spent years planning her future with So. Seeing him again had brought her such joy. Why then was she running away? 

Because I’m tired, she thought. She was sick of eavesdroppers and spies; of being a pawn in court politics. So hadn’t been able to protect her like he promised and she couldn’t make a home there, surrounded by enemies. 

But was that really it? There was a splinter in her thoughts that ached every time she neared it. The further she probed, the more obvious it became, until she realised it was the final straw that had changed her mind.   

“I’m not his first choice.”

“Hm?”

“So said he needed to become King to protect his people. I thought he was doing it for us. But I can see now it’s changed him… He loves it. He loves being king more than he loves me.”

“That can’t be true.” 

“It is. I asked him whether he would give up the throne in order for us to be together. He said he didn’t want to choose between the crown and me... But I know what that means.” 

“Idiot,” Jung cursed. 

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Yes, anything.”

“How fast can this horse go?”

“If you want to make it to the next village in one piece, then this fast.”

“But I’ve seen you racing before!”

“Not with two riders, and not in the dark.”

“Fine. But I still think it’s possible.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Jung said, patting the horse. “Only a madman would gallop on a road like this at night.”

Soo thought of her journey to the beach with So. Perhaps he’s right. I have a habit of attracting danger.   

“What do you think the world will be like in a hundred years?” Jung asked, changing track. 

“How about in a thousand years?”

“A thousand? I can’t imagine it. But maybe by then they’ll have faster horses.”

“Is it difficult to learn? Riding?”

“No harder than archery.”

“Can you teach me?”

“Next you’ll be asking about sword fighting! Is there a war I haven’t heard of?”

“Why? Do you think I’d be good at it?”

“Terrifying… Alright, I’ll teach you.”

“Sword fighting?”

“Riding! Let’s start with riding.”

“Is it strange for a lady to learn to ride?”

“Extremely,” Jung replied, ”But when has that ever stopped you?” 

--------

They didn’t meet anyone else on the road. Once the sun appeared and the day started heating up, they found their pace slowing. Their early start was beginning to catch up to them. 

“Can we stop?” Soo asked as a small homestead came into view. 

“Of course.”

Jung pulled the horse to a halt and dismounted. Soo was stiff from hours of sitting and didn’t trust herself to move. 

“Here,” Jung said, reaching up to help. “Put your hands on my shoulders.” He lifted her at the waist and placed her gently on the ground, as easily as if she were a paper doll. 

An old man emerged from the house and hobbled towards them. His eyes flitted from the horse to the fine silks peeking out beneath their cloaks. He was obviously impressed.  

“How goes it? A beautiful day to be travelling! Are you coming from the palace?”

“Yes, Seonbae. We’ve been travelling since nightfall. Is there a place where we might rest for a few hours?”

“Of course! We have a room. You’ll find it very comfortable, sir. And we have plenty of food!”

“Is there a stable?”

The man nodded. “Around the back. Yoon-seok!” he hollered. A teenage boy poked his head out from the doorway. “Take their horse to the stable. Make sure there’s plenty of hay, and fetch some fresh water from the well.” 

The boy stole curious glances at them as came to retrieve the horse. Soo could see him eyeing Jung’s sword. It was an impressive weapon with a silver and tortoiseshell hilt. When the boy realised Soo was watching he ducked his head and hurried on. 

“If you’ll follow me, sir.” Their host led them to a small room at the back of the building. There was a low table with cushions, a small chest, and a pair of sleeping mats tucked in the corner.

“So many travellers this week! All going to the big celebration, of course. Fine men and women. Beautiful clothes and horses. Some with a dozen servants! Though none of them had anything like that,” he nodded at Jung’s sword. “Are you a soldier, sir?”

“I was, for a time.”

“Did you attend the festivities?” 

Jung nodded. 

“You must have had urgent business to be leaving so soon! Don’t worry,” the man said with a wink, “I won’t pry. Anyway, with a lovely wife like yours, who’d want to go to court! I’d keep her tucked away.”

Jung took the old man’s teasing in good humour. “What about you, Seonbae? You must have a beautiful wife to have such a fine son.”

“Ah, Yoon-seok. That boy is nothing but trouble! The sooner he’s married the better! But he and I have been alone since he was young. My wife died in childbirth.” The man’s expression, which had been cheerful moments before, clouded with grief.

Soo closed her eyes. She’d spent so many nights wishing her pain would end. When she’d first learned she was getting better she’d felt cheated, as though her way out had been taken away. Now she didn’t know what to feel. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Seonbae.” 

“Aigoo, it was a long time ago. But you never forget. She was a wonderful woman.” 

The man finished telling them about the room before leaving them to get settled. 

Soo turned from the door to find Jung watching her with a solemn expression.

“What is it?” Soo said, picking at a thread on her sleeve. It was unnerving the way Jung sometimes seemed to be reading her thoughts. 

“I would be the same.”

“Hm?”

“If something happened to you, I’d be like that man. I’d never move on.” 

Soo lifted her head and reluctantly met Jung’s gaze. His pain was as raw as her own. They hadn’t spoken much about that night. For months she’d been so paralyzed that she hadn’t noticed much of the world around her, but here they were, and suddenly it felt wrong to shut Jung out. 

“I sometimes think… I sometimes wish it had been me instead of her.”

He came towards her, and without saying a word, pulled her into a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s my fault. I didn’t protect you.” 

Soo shook her head against the fabric of his shirt. “It wasn’t you.” 

How long they remained like that, Soo couldn’t tell, but eventually Jung drew back and held her at arms’ length. 

“Are you hungry?”

Soo nodded. 

“Here,” he said, guiding her over to where the man had laid out a tray. There was soup and bread, as well as barley rice. 

They ate slowly at first, then, realising their hunger, flew through the rest of the meal until there wasn’t a single grain left in their bowls. 

Soo could feel the hours of travel weighing heavy on her body. 

“Lie down before you fall down,” Jung said, steering her towards the sleeping mats. 

Soo nodded sleepily, “I’ll just rest for a few minutes.”  

“I can wait outside so you’re more comfortable.” 

“Jung. It’s fine. Stay. You need rest too.” 

He didn’t argue. They settled down on the mats, each facing the opposite wall. 

It felt unnatural, lying so close to Jung but feeling so distant. Soo turned around. Seconds later, as though struck by the same thought, Jung turned as well. 

Soo smiled. 

“Woah,” Jung pulled back in shock, his pupils widening in the dim light. 

“What?”

“You can’t just smile like that with no warning!”

“Are you blushing?”

“No!”

“You are!” Soo reached out and prodded one of his cheeks. Jung grinned and trapped her hand in his own.

“Hey!” 

“Oh, so you think you can just launch an attack with no prisoners? This hand is mine now.”

“Fine, I don’t need it!” Soo rolled over and pulled Jung’s arm against her chest, wrapping it around her like a blanket. Jung was very still. She could feel his heartbeat through their clothes. 

“Look at you, always finding a way to keep me awake. So selfish,” he chided. 

It was impossibly cosy in his arms. If she focused on his breathing, she could almost drown out her tiresome thoughts. And so for a moment, she decided to close her eyes and listen. Sleep snuck up on her within seconds, and she was carried off into a deep, dreamless slumber. 

--------

When Soo finally opened her eyes, it felt like she’d been sleeping for a thousand years. Her body was stiffer than before, but her mind felt sharper than it had in months. She turned and almost let out a shriek, forgetting for a moment where she was and who she was with.  

It was the first time Soo had ever woken to find Jung still asleep. His face was only inches from her own, relaxed into a beautiful, serene expression. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him so care-free, as though she were glimpsing him again through the windows of the bath house, surrounded by his family and happy memories. 

She reached out and traced a finger across his cheek. How can a soldier have the skin of an idol? This world is truly bizarre. 

She didn’t want to wake him, so she slipped on her cloak and padded outside. There was a small garden to the side of the homestead, with wildflowers and a few large trees. A scrawny chicken darted from a bush and hovered at her feet.

“I don’t have anything for you,” she told the bird, “I’m afraid we ate it all.” 

The chicken eyed her suspiciously and then pecked its way to a corner of the yard, turning back every so often to make sure she wasn’t lying. 

She could hear a tapping sound coming from the direction of the trees, so she made her way over. 

As she rounded a large bush she saw the teenage boy from earlier, darting about in a series of complex manoeuvres and striking the trunk of a tree with a short pole. 

When he caught sight of Hae Soo he froze mid-swing. 

“Sorry for disturbing you.” Soo ducked her head and turned to leave. 

“Don’t worry,” the boy seemed to recover quickly. “I was just practising.” 

“Are you training for the army?” Soo had clearly chosen the right words, because she could see the boy straighten with pride. When he wasn’t slouching, he was surprisingly tall.

He nodded. Soo wondered how old he was. Fifteen? Sixteen at most. She wanted to tell him to stay home; to stay away from fighting forever, but she knew there was no point. 

“Your name is Yoon-seok, right? The King needs brave soldiers. You’ll do well.” 

He was staring at her warily, a slight patch of red creeping up his neck. 

Oh god I sound like a grandma. I’m embarrassing him. Soo cast around for a change of subject. 

“Is that your favourite weapon?” 

“This? ” Yoon-seok looked down at the pole in disgust, then sighed. “Of course not. It doesn’t even count. One day I’ll get a sword. That’s the best weapon for a soldier,” he looked up at her with narrowed his eyes, “but I guess you don’t know much about that.” 

“Hm, you’re right. My husband hasn’t begun teaching me sword fighting yet,” Soo remembered Jung’s opposition to the idea and felt the sides of her mouth twitch upwards.

“You! Sword fighting!” Yoon-seok was staring at her like someone who was seeing a dog on a unicycle, his expression hovering between disbelief, amazement and laughter. “Why on earth would your husband teach you that?”

“Well, why not? He already taught me archery.”

“No way.” 

“He did!” 

“You have a very strange sense of humour, lady.”

“I’ll prove it. Do you have a bow?”

Yoon-seok’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re really going to try? Fine, let’s see it.” He trudged off to a shed in the corner of the garden and returned with a flimsy looking bow and arrow. 

Soo could sense the boy’s scepticism as she inspected the arrow and pulled the bowstring back and forth. 

“This needs re-fletching,” she said, holding up the arrow. “And the bowstring is too loose. It won’t work well. Do you have another?” 

Yoon-seok’s mouth opened and closed. He was still gaping slightly as he returned from the shed, this time carrying a well-oiled bow and newly fletched arrow. 

“Much better!” Soo said as she tested the bowstring and notched an arrow. “What should I aim for?”

Yoon-seok pointed at a branch high up in the tree. “That one there.”

Soo nodded and repositioned her feet. It had been a few days since she’d practised and should have taken more time to warm up, but she wanted the element of surprise. 

She could tell it was a good shot as she released the arrow. It flew upwards in a graceful arch and buried itself deep into the branch that Yoon-seok had chosen. 

“Seol-ma.” Yoon-seok’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates. 

Soo felt a wild joy bubbling up in her chest. She was trying her best not to grin. 

“Choose another target.” 

“The shed door!” 

Yoon-seok passed her another arrow. The shed was about ten metres away. It wasn’t a particularly difficult shot. 

“Which part of the door?”

Yoon-seok was shaking his head. “Top left.”

Soo moved her feet again to line up the shot. This time as the arrow thudded into the wood, Yook-seok couldn’t contain his excitement. 

“Wa! How did you…” 

They gleefully continued the game as the sun crept across the sky, like small children who had been kept indoors for too long and were getting their first taste of freedom. Yook-seok set up increasingly elaborate targets, and they dissolved into fits of laughter as Soo’s shots started to go off track. 

“How was I meant to hit that! The wind moved it last-second!”

“What about this?” Yoon-seok threw his cap into the air. It ascended half a metre before plummeting to the ground. She didn’t even have time to draw an arrow. 

“Hey!” Soo laughed. “No fair!” 

“Hae Soo! Soo-yah!” A panicked voice echoed across the garden, breaking up their laughter. 

Soo looked up to see Jung jogging past the house, his eyes searching frantically around the yard. 

“Over here!” she waved.

He crossed the distance between them in record time and folded her into a breath-defying hug.

“Soo-yah. I woke up and you weren’t there. I thought you… I thought something might have happened.”

“I’m fine,” she tried to say, but her face was squished so tightly against his chest it sounded more like “mm fmm.” Jung drew back to look at her. His face was pale. “Really, I’m fine. Yoon-seok has been keeping me company.”

Jung only just seemed to notice the boy. 

“Hyeong-nim, your wife is amazing!” 

Jung glanced from Yoon-seok back to Soo, lost for words. Soo suppressed a smile and shrugged. 

“Yoon-seok!” A voice bellowed from the doorway. 

Yoon-seok rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I’d better go help.” He threw Soo an apologetic look as he hurried away.

“Did you sleep well?” Soo asked, turning back to Jung.

Jung’s arms were still around her in a loose circle, as though worried she might float away.

He shook his head, “You can’t just disappear like that!”

“Well no, I certainly can’t if you keep holding me.”

He dropped his arms and stepped back. 

“Ah,” he cleared his throat. “I mean - um… did you get enough rest? Shall we continue?” 

Soo nodded. They headed back to the room to gather their belongings. She could hear the old man firing orders at Yoon-seok down the hall.

Soo perched herself on the porch steps while Jung went to fetch the horse. It was late afternoon. They’d been there longer than expected. She judged there were about four hours of sunshine left in the day. 

She heard shuffling to one side. Yoon-seok was hovering with a parcel. 

“It’s food for your journey,” he said, awkwardly thrusting the bundle at her. 

“Thank you,” Soo took it and placed it in one of the travel bags.  

Yoon-seok chewed his bottom lip and frowned. As the slow clip-clop of hooves drew nearer, he seemed to reach a decision. 

“You know,” Yoon-seok suddenly burst out, “if your husband is ever unkind to you, you’re welcome to come live with us. I’ll be old enough to join the army in a few years and then I can support a family. I’ll even teach you sword fighting!” 

Soo turned to Yoon-seok with a gentle smile. “That’s very generous of you to offer. It’s nice to know I have a friend out here.”

She stretched out a hand and Yoon-seok almost tripped over his feet in a rush to help her up.

“Aigoo, leaving already?” The old man shuffled onto the porch. “Yoon-seok, help the lady with her bags!” 

Jung came forward to shake hands with their host and pay him for their stay.

Soon they were back on the horse, with Soo waving goodbye as they headed down the road. 

“What a nice family.” 

“Mm,” she could feel Jung stretching in the saddle behind her. “It was good to get some sleep. But what was that boy saying to you before? He was red as a plum.” 

“Oh, he was just telling me I have a place to stay if you’re ever mean.”

“Sure,” Jung muttered, “I lose sight of her for a single afternoon and she’s already getting offers… What did you two possibly have to talk about?”

“I don’t know - we mostly shot arrows.”

“Ah, of course! You and your archery… That poor boy,” Jung suddenly sounded amused. “He didn’t stand a chance.”

“What do you mean?” Soo asked, twisting in the saddle so she could see his face.

Jung was looking ahead, a fond smile stretched across his face. “Well, it’s just something I discovered recently: if you arm a beautiful woman, the men who cross her path will be utterly ambushed.” He finally looked down. The warmth in his eyes stirred unexpected butterflies. 

“Good thing I’m neither beautiful nor armed,” Soo said, turning back so he wouldn’t see her blush. “Though Yoon-seok did say he could teach me sword fighting.”

“Aish, that kid? If you’re going to learn, at least learn from the best!” 

“Baek Ah?”

“Hey! I’m right here!” 

Soo laughed. “Does that mean you’ll teach me?” 

“If it stops you running off with some country boy...” 

“Tsh. I don’t think I’d be any good at it, anyway. I’ve tried holding a sword before and my arms gave out after a few seconds.”

“We’ll need to find you a lighter blade. I can’t have my wife turning up for battle with some old branch. Imagine what the other commanders would say!”

Soo’s thoughts were suddenly flooded with sadness. 

“I saw the stick you left her. And the ribbon.” 

Jung was quiet. The ever-present ache in Soo’s chest seemed to match the horse’s hoofbeats. 

After a moment, Jung spoke again. “Did you give her a name?”

Soo shook her head. She hadn’t dared follow that line of thinking, but now the idea of their baby being nameless brought a new wave of sorrow. 

“How about Eun-Ha?” Jung said softly. 

Silver river. It fit Soo’s vision of the child; a girl of graceful strength. A perfect, radiant being slipping into the distance. How had he known? 

“Mm. Eun-Ha. That’s perfect.”

Chapter Text

-- Hae Soo --

The final length of their journey was uneventful. At some point Soo must have fallen asleep, because she was woken by a gentle tapping on her shoulder.

“Soo-yah, we’re home.” 

Jung led them to the back of the house and helped her down. 

“Ugh. I don’t think I’ll be able to walk again for days!” Soo said, trying to rub life into her legs with balled hands. The horse snorted impatiently. 

“Shall I carry you inside?”

“No!” Soo didn’t know why she’d turned him down so quickly. “I’ll make it myself, thank you.”

“Alright. I need to stable this fellow,” Jung patted the horse’s neck affectionately. “I’ll be in soon.” 

Soo watched him walk away, feeling oddly at a loss. 

Get it together. She schooled herself. You’re a grown woman. You can get to bed without assistance. 

The house was dark but well-aired. Min Jee had clearly been by. Soo shuffled down the hall to her bedroom, feeling comforted by the familiar wood panelling and faint smell of jasmine.  

Everything in the room was just as she left it, from her discarded attempt at embroidery to the book she’d cracked open just before Baek Ah’s visit. Why are all the texts of this era so boring? If I have to read one more line about agriculture…  

Soo started removing her dusty clothes. Every movement was hindered by stiff limbs, and she was glad there were no witnesses to her struggle. She washed off the dirt of the road as best she could with water from a basin and plaited her hair in a long braid down her back. 

With a clean face and fresh nightgown she felt somewhat presentable as she settled onto the sleeping mat. She lay facing the door, propped on one elbow, feeling sleepier by the second. 

I hope he hurries. I’m so tired. 

A few minutes later she heard Jung’s voice. “Soo-yah, is there anything you need?”

“No,” she said, happy with the thought that they’d soon be fast asleep. 

“Alright, then - goodnight.”

Jung’s shadow disappeared from her doorway. Soo blinked. She struggled to sit up. 

He’d left? 

Really? After everything we’ve been through this week?

She felt a burst of indignation. 

Are you kidding?  

She thought they’d finally done away with the awkwardness between them, but here it was again in full force and the worst of it - the very worst of it - was that she had - I can’t believe this - come to rely on his presence and she’d been looking forward to a good night’s sleep and now - 

Gah! Just look at me! 

Every trace of sleep was gone.  

She pulled herself off the floor and slid open the door. 

I’ll go find him, she thought, but she had only made it a few steps before a sudden wave of embarrassment halted her progress.  

What am I doing? She rocked back and forth on her feet, feeling shy and frustrated and helplessly indecisive. 

He won’t care if I bother him, she thought, but another part of her questioned why she needed to. 

He might want space. I should go back to bed. 

Her bedroom suddenly felt vast and cold. She puffed her pillow a dozen times, pulled the blanket up to her neck and squeezed her eyes closed. 

It’s just sleep. It should be natural.   

I’ll count to a hundred. 

I’ll count to two hundred.

What about that drama I watched years ago? What was it called? The one with the vengeful spirit. How did the plot go? 

But as she tried to remember the details, the image of Jung peacefully sleeping suddenly surfaced in her mind, sending her thoughts on a wild tangent. 

He probably fell asleep instantly. Nothing phases him. 

After a full day spent tucked in the saddle, right by Jung’s side, the small distance separating them now felt strangely uncomfortable.  

Soo rolled over. Pushed the blanket back. Got up for a sip of water. Pulled the blanket back up. Turned over again. But try as she might, there was no sign of sleep. 

--------

The sunrise was stunning that morning, but Soo hardly felt its cheery glow through her zombie-like trance of sleeplessness. 

She was sitting in a big room at the front of the house, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. At some point in the night it had dawned on her that she couldn’t simply switch off her thoughts through sheer willpower, so she’d left the bedroom and come to sit here. She liked that this part of the house had large, soft cushions and a wide door that could be opened onto the veranda. 

She thought perhaps the change of environment might help her nap, but as the first rays of sunshine broke over the horizon, she realised it was hopeless.

Perhaps that one great nap she’d taken next to Jung had given her body a surplus of energy. Maybe I won’t need to sleep again for a week! But she could already tell from the heaviness of her eyelids that this was an unlikely conclusion. 

It’s not like it matters. I don’t have anything I need to do today. Or any day… 

She sat stewing in despondency until a few hours later, when Jung burst into the room with an offensive amount of energy. 

“Morning! How did you sleep?” He was wearing a navy gwanbok with silver embroidery, moving gracefully as he set down a tray with food and tea. 

Soo blinked slowly, feeling like an elderly person on the brink of a coma. 

At least one of us slept well.

“It seemed really quiet last night,” Jung continued. “I didn’t hear you have any nightmares! Isn’t that great?” He was arranging tea cups and bowls of rice before them. 

Soo nodded. Oh yes, I’ve definitely found a way around that problem…  

She searched for something to say, her brain feeling unpleasantly sluggish. 

“Is that new?” She nodded to his outfit. “I haven’t seen it before.”

“This?” Jung looked down at the robe. “Baek Ah got it for me. He said I should dress more like a prince, now that I’ve been pardoned and all.” A mischievous look suddenly flashed across his face. Jung grinned and took a step back, posing with hands on his hips. “Do you like it?” 

A sunbeam coming through the open window gave his skin a faint glow. Soo could feel her eyes grow wider the longer she stared. 

He was a picture of good health. As Soo’s eyes travelled down the length of the robe to take in the full effect, she felt a flutter in her stomach. The width of his shoulders, the solidness of his chest, and the curve of his arms were all unmistakable beneath the finely-woven silk. 

Soo mused that if she didn’t want to walk anymore Jung could probably pick her up with one arm and carry her back to the bedroom without any - 

My god…  

She shook her head to dislodge the image. Shock and wonder flooded through her. It was like discovering a whole new civilization underneath the living room floor. 

Where did that come from? How long had it been there? 

Her initial instinct was to deny the feeling entirely, regardless of how tempting it was (or rather, because of how tempting it was), so she turned away sharply and made herself busy with the breakfast tray. 

“It’s nice,” she mumbled. 

“I have to go to the village this morning to get supplies, but I’ll be back in the afternoon,” Jung told her as they ate. 

Soo focussed intensely on the food before her, avoiding eye contact as much as possible and wondering what on earth had possessed her. 

Jung didn’t seem put off by her silence. He passed her side dishes and talked about this and that, before taking leave with a cheerful goodbye. 

“See you later Soo-yah! Have a nice time with Min Jee!”

A few seconds after he’d left Soo dropped her head to the table. 

Whyyyy. 

First insomnia and now this… Traitorous brain!

--------

“Good morning!” Min Jee chirped as she bustled through the door. She was carrying a basket of fabric. 

“How are you, my lady? Did you sleep well? And how was your visit to court? You’ll have to tell me everything!” 

“That better not be something to embroider,” Soo frowned at the bundle.  

“Oof - someone woke up on the wrong side of the mat! How about a nice greeting instead of a complaint?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t sleep well.” Soo rubbed her face. “It’s good to see you.”

She filled Min Jee in on the details of their trip. Unsure of how much the gossipy midwife already knew, Soo skipped over her conversation with So and focussed mainly on descriptions of the celebration, the food, and the people they met on their journey home. It was soon obvious, however, that Min Jee had a greater understanding of the situation than Soo had previously guessed.

“Jung must be so relieved you’re back! He probably thought the King would steal you away. It’s been the talk of town for days! Two royals fighting over the same woman… What a mess! You did well to leave so quickly.” 

Min Jee was perched on a cushion behind Soo, kneading her shoulders. 

“Aigoo! All that riding has made you stiff as a board! But do you know, I haven’t seen you looking this cheerful before! There’s finally some colour in your cheeks! And strength in these arms.” Min Jee pulled one of Soo’s hands into her lap and started massaging her fingers. 

“I was worried at the start,” Min Jee continued, “but you’ve made a wonderful recovery.”

Soo huffed. “I don’t feel wonderful.”

“Oh, that’s just your stiff limbs talking. In a few days you’ll be right as rain, getting into all sorts of mischief - I’m sure!” 

Soo rolled her eyes. “When have I ever caused mischief?”

“You think I haven’t heard the tale of a certain court lady running around with sticks and wrestling princes? Anyway, you’re much stronger now. I think you’d be fine if you wanted to try for another baby…”

“Eo-meo!” Soo turned to the midwife in disbelief, her cheeks suddenly on fire.

“What?” Min Jee blinked innocently. 

“You can’t just say things like that!” Soo pulled her hand back. 

Min Jee stared at Soo with raised eyebrows. “Why not? Isn’t it normal that two healthy, happily married people should want to try…”

Soo gasped and clapped a hand over Min Jee’s mouth, her eyes darting towards the door.

“Someone will hear you!” She hissed.

Min Jee squirmed free of Soo’s hold. “What nonsense, there’s only Jung -”

“Oh god!” Soo's hands flew to the sides of her face. “Please don’t tell me you’ve been talking to Jung!”

“Well, I noticed you’re still sleeping in separate rooms, and I wanted to reassure you that -”

“No-no!” Soo jumped up. “I get the idea! Let’s talk about something else.” She paced to the window, tugging at the top of her blouse to loosen the fabric. “It’s really hot in here, isn’t it? Are you hot? I’m quite hot. I think I’ll go for a walk.”

Min Jee made to stand but Soo waved her back. “It’s fine! I’ll go alone. You stay here and continue with the sewing, I’m no good at that anyway.”

Once out in the yard Soo made a beeline for the storage area where she kept her bow, but the wooden targets Jung had constructed didn’t seem at all tempting in her current mood. 

Maybe I can try some hunting.   

She made her way down a path at the back of the property and kept walking until a thick clutter of trees surrounded her and the house was a small speck in the distance. 

There were birds in the trees - she could hear them, but keeping them within her line of sight long enough to attempt a shot was an entirely different matter. Her quiver, which had been full upon leaving the house, was soon sadly depleted as she lost arrow after arrow in the underbrush. 

Still, she found herself relaxing as the hours ticked by. The forest was idyllic. 

There was nothing like this where I used to live, she thought, picturing the concrete block walls of her old apartment building. 

I should come here more often, she mused on her way back to the house. The fresh air and sunshine had done wonders, and she felt like the trials of the morning were far behind her.

She continued with a happy bounce in her step until she was back in the yard, but upon rounding the corner of the stable she came upon a sight that made her stop short.

Jung had returned from running errands in the village, and had obviously decided to take advantage of the warm weather to do a little washing. He was standing next to a barrel, stripped to the waist, throwing handfuls of water over himself.

If the morning light had been playful with its soft glow, then the afternoon sunbeams were bordering on absurd. Droplets of water glistened in Jung’s hair and clung to his shoulders, trailing slowly down his back. 

He was facing into the building and hadn’t seen her yet. 

Rooted unblinking with her mouth slightly ajar, Soo was struck by the powerful impulse to flee, while at the same time her disobedient eyes remained fixed on the scene. Some small part of her was curious to see him turn around. Then again, she could feel her cheeks growing warmer by the second and knew she’d soon be a conspicuous shade of red. 

This is ridiculous, Soo told herself, edging backwards. The bow slung over her shoulder tapped gently against the bamboo quiver. It was only a small sound, but there was nothing to disguise its flight across the courtyard. 

Jung turned and met her eyes, and the smile that broke across his face had Soo inwardly cursing.

How dare he, she thought. Beaming as though he were excited to see her! As though he hadn’t just left her to spend an entire night alone.

“Soo-yah! Did you go hunting?” Jung picked up a towel and came forward, drying his hands and then rubbing the cloth further up his arms. 

It wasn’t as though she hadn’t seen a shirtless man before. Still, in this age of full-length clothing and strict decorum it felt wildly risqué to encounter someone with exposed skin. Plus, she’d only ever looked at Jung as a friend; or perhaps at some points as a brother-like figure. To see him now, quite plainly glistening in the bright light of day gave her a funny feeling in her stomach.  

Jung was trying to read her face. “You looked flushed - are you well?”

Soo pursed her lips and nodded. She didn’t quite know where to look. She didn’t want Jung to see what she was currently thinking, but then dropping her gaze even slightly would risk being pulled into some inescapable visual vortex.

“I didn’t hit anything,” Soo finally said, deciding to fix her eyes on a random point of the horizon. She tried to channel the nonchalance of a 21st century woman who sees countless shirtless men on billboards, at pools, in dramas and at the gym, but somehow all the memories she had left of those instances were of regular, unsculpted bodies. Nothing worth staring at. Nothing like this at all…

She figured it was a symptom of exhaustion. 

“It was really nice in the forest but I think I overdid it,” she told Jung, finally looking in his direction. “I’m going inside to rest.”

His brow furrowed. “Of course. I was going to ask if you want to try riding later, but it can wait until another day.”

Soo nodded and turned away. 

She was in a foul mood by the time she got to her bedroom. She couldn’t tell where her frustration was coming from. 

On some deeper level she knew that it wasn’t Jung’s fault; that he was actually being extremely supportive and patient, but she still blamed him. It was easier to blame him than anyone else. If Jung wasn’t so damn dependable, she wouldn’t have come to rely on him to this degree…

This had all happened because she’d needed help like some folorn medieval maiden and he’d shown up and rescued her and now here she was confused and unable to sleep. It was clichéd, and it killed her. 

She responded the only way the Soo of old knew how: complete denial. 

I’ll feel better once I get some sleep. 

--------

Over the next few days Soo tried to distance herself as much as possible from Jung.

She had some success at avoiding encounters by rising early and going for long walks, but even when she managed to sidestep Jung for most of the day, he still left thoughtful traces throughout the house. There were flowers in the dining area and new books waiting outside her bedroom door. On the third day she found an ornate hunting knife on her desk, with a note from Jung saying “Best to start small.” 

Archery, her previous outlet for offloading big emotions, was somehow losing its effect. There were only so many birds she could take aim at in the forest before she became dangerously close to actually hitting one. They’re too cute, Soo thought, remembering a quail she’d seen darting through the underbrush. I need a new distraction…

On the fifth day she decided to try a different approach, reasoning that the best way to build resistance to the strange, anxious feeling she’d been getting around Jung might be through a kind of exposure therapy.

“Do you have much planned today? Would you have time to give me a riding lesson?” Soo asked Jung over breakfast. She mustered a tone of brightness, though her stomach was twisting with nerves. She was moving food around her plate without any real appetite. 

Jung looked up from the table in surprise. He scanned Soo’s face with a carefulness that made her shift in her seat. Whatever he saw there must have been unflattering, because Jung’s mouth pulled into a line and the hopeful expression he’d been wearing seconds earlier was replaced by a guarded look. 

“Sure, it’s a nice day for it.”

Soo nodded and tried to think of something positive to add, but Jung’s sudden mood shift left her with only inane suggestions. 

“It will be interesting to learn.”

The room was so quiet Soo could hear the wind brushing leaves against the side of the building. She thought her recent attempts at avoiding Jung had been subtle, and that he probably hadn’t noticed that they’d hardly spoken in days, but something about Jung’s current silence suggested otherwise. The weight of his stare was making her uncomfortable. 

“Thank you for the hunting knife, by the way. I didn’t thank you properly before. It’s beautiful.” 

He continued to look at her, frowning slightly, and Soo felt as though she was being tested in some way.

Soo tucked some stray hair behind her ears and swallowed. 

She supposed her behaviour had been sort of erratic, but what was that to him? 

Jung sighed and finally looked away. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll show you how to use it sometime.”  

“Thanks.” 

She could tell from the slump of his shoulders that he wasn’t in the mood to talk anymore. 

What are you doing? A small voice inside her asked. She tried to push it down. 

You’re being selfish again. The thought bubbled up past carefully managed defences. It seeped through the cracks in her being; the microscopic pathways forged by pain and loss. 

She used to blame So for being like that. He was never honest with himself; denying what they had together and what truly mattered to him. Now here she was, hurting someone as callously as he had wounded her. 

The realisation stung. I’m not like him. I’m not his person. She wondered how long you could be with someone before they irreparably changed you. 

She peeked up at Jung and resolved to do better. 

There had to be a way to move on from the hopeless uncertainty she’d been feeling of late. 

I need to be more mature. It’s not like I hate it here. A lot of people would kill for this life. 

Jung cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. His hands were sun-kissed and calloused from training, but his movements were measured like those of a dancer. Soo frowned. 

I’m fine, really. I’m happy to be back. 

Jung eventually turned back to her, and, clearly prompted by the concern on her face, mustered a half smile. 

I’m so screwed.

Chapter Text

-- Hae Soo --

“I don’t think she likes me,” Soo said, grimacing as a pair of grey ears flicked towards her. She was trying to sit as still as possible, hoping the horse might forget she was there.

“She can tell you’re nervous,” Jung said, eyeing the mare. He was holding a lead rope, guiding them in slow circles around the yard. 

Soo huffed. Of course I’m nervous! Look how high up I am!

“Horses are smart,” Jung continued. “They can tell what you’re thinking by the way you move. You have to relax.”

“Easy for you to say! Your horse is a sweetheart! I swear he whinnies ‘hi’ whenever he sees you.” Soo was clutching the pommel of the saddle with white knuckles, feeling stupidly close to toppling off with each small sway of the horse’s back. 

“I’ve had Baram a long time, but he wouldn’t be happy either if I sat there as stiffly as you. See how she’s moving? There’s a rhythm to it. Try and match it.”

Soo adjusted her seat, wiggling to and fro at random. Jung laughed and brought the horse to a stop. “You have no idea what I mean, do you?” 

Soo scowled. “You said to find a rhythm!” 

“Yea, but you can’t just invent one!” Jung rubbed the back of his head with his spare hand, looking around the yard for inspiration. If he’d ever taught riding before, it was clearly to someone with a basic understanding of horses. 

He didn’t expect this level of ignorance. 

“How many legs does a horse have?”

“Is this a riddle?”

“No, just a question.”

“Four?” 

Jung raised an eyebrow. “You don’t sound sure.”

Soo rolled her eyes. “Because I’m wondering what you’re getting at!” 

“Think about it this way: if a horse has four legs, then how many beats will there be in its walk?” 

Soo hesitated, wondering if it was a trick question. 

“Four?” 

Jung smirked. 

“What?” Soo demanded. “Is it not four?”

“It is. But I love your certainty.” 

Soo stuck out her bottom lip and looked away. “Pff. I told you I didn’t know anything! You don’t have to be so high-handed about it.”

Jung suppressed a smile and continued walking. The horse followed suit.  

“There are four main paces: walking, trotting, cantering and galloping. We’ll build up to the other gaits. You’ll need to sit differently for each one. But with walking, the most important thing is to follow the movement of her back. See how her belly swings back and forth as she walks? Your hips need to move with that motion.”

Soo peered down at the horse’s belly. It was a lighter colour - almost white, and looked very soft. It was swinging gently like a pendulum from side to side. Soo let out a breath and started counting the horse’s steps, rocking slightly in the saddle as they circled the dusty yard. 

“That’s better,” Jung gave her an encouraging smile. “Doesn’t it feel more comfortable?”

Soo nodded, loosening her grip on the saddle slightly. 

“You’ll have better balance, too.”

Soo looked down at the white and blue skirt of her hanbok, stretched tightly over the curve of the saddle. The bulky fabric didn’t allow for much movement. 

“I think I’ll need a new outfit. I can’t even see my feet at the moment.” 

Jung pursed his lips, considering the problem. 

“Huh, you’re right. But then, would any skirt be suitable? They’re usually that long.”

“How about some trousers? There must be a pair I could borrow.”

Jung tilted his head to one side and rubbed his jaw. He eventually nodded. 

“I’ll get you some in the village. You wouldn’t fit any of mine. But whatever happens, don’t let Min Jee find out! She’s already been lecturing me about the dangers of riding to a woman’s health. If we add further scandal to the mix she’ll probably start a bonfire with our gear.” 

Soo smiled. Jung was such a pragmatist. It didn’t matter what other people thought, he always looked for the most practical solution. It was one of the things Soo loved about him. 

“What scandal?” Soo asked, adopting an innocent expression. “They’re just trousers. It’s not like I’m pulling a Lady Godiva.” 

“What’s that?” Jung frowned at the foreign reference. 

A small part of Soo wondered if she should tell him. 

“Riding through town without any clothes,” Soo replied casually. 

But it was definitely worth it to see the look on Jung’s face. 

--------

The weeks of spring seemed to rush by, and soon the fields around them were bursting with life. There were calves and fawns, baby rabbits and adorable fluffy chicks. Soo felt buoyed with hope every time she crossed paths with one of these darling critters. 

On her visits to Eun-ha’s grave Soo would recount the events of the day, making sure to pass on any cute animal sightings and give updates on her riding adventures. 

With lessons taking place each morning, rain or shine, Soo was making gradual progress, and after a few weeks she could confidently brush, saddle, mount and walk her horse around the yard without assistance. 

The mare, which Soo cheerily referred to as Nae-Cha (or “my car”), seemed to grow accustomed to Soo’s awkward movements, though it probably helped that she was rewarded generously with treats at the end of each session. 

“We’re going to run out of notches on that saddle strap if you keep giving her apples,” Jung said, peering down from the back of Baram. 

He’d decided they’d venture further afield for today’s lesson, and had donned a brilliant emerald jacket to mark the occasion. 

“They’re only the shrivelled old ones that nobody else wants. Plus she deserves them,” Soo said, rubbing the mare’s neck. “She’s the fastest Cha in the west!” 

“How do you know? The fastest you’ve ever ridden is a trot.” 

“But look!” Soo pointed to the patch of ground that Nae-Cha was pawing impatiently. “She’s got apple energy! It’s the world’s greatest fuel. She could outrun Baram anytime she wants.” 

Soo finished adjusting the stirrups and gathered the reins in her hand. Grasping hold of the saddle she put her left foot in the stirrup and pulled herself up, swinging her other leg over the curve of Nae-Cha’s back, just as Jung had shown her. 

“You’re getting better at that.” Jung sounded impressed. 

“Thanks,” Soo said, flashing him a smile. “I had a good teacher.”

Soo was wearing a navy blue jacket and a pair of light brown trousers that Jung had procured from the dressmaker. Though she only wore the trousers for riding, they made her realise how much she missed modern fashion. It was freeing to once again be able to move her legs without yards of fabric getting in the way. 

Soo pulled Nae-Cha up next to Baram, who was flicking his tail, ears pricked forward in anticipation. 

Jung was sitting back in the saddle with a look of complete ease, a lock of hair falling across part of his face. He looked well rested and - there’s no point in denying it -  absurdly handsome, though Soo was getting better at avoiding those particular thoughts. 

The lessons had helped. It was easy to ignore butterflies when you were awaiting imminent death by horse-related injury. 

Soo had rapidly learned that unlike automobiles, horses had minds of their own and if you didn’t pay attention they could (and in Nae-Cha’s case, certainly would) throw you off-course. Soo’s first fall hadn’t been serious, but it had seriously wounded her confidence. 

The treats she snuck Nae-Cha each night were part bribe, part ransom, for she had a nagging suspicion that if she didn’t provide them the mare would quite happily return home without her body. 

“Ready to go?” Jung’s eyes were bright, perhaps more-so than usual. Soo wondered what he was thinking. 

“Lead the way!” Whatever he had planned, his mood was infectious, and Soo found herself matching his smile with a grin of her own. 

Jung clicked his tongue and Baram pulled forward.

They took the horses down a rough path towards some farmland. The grass was long and dotted with wildflowers, creating a parade of colours. 

Nae-Cha immediately tried to veer off-track to bury her head in a patch of clover, forcing Soo to tighten her hold on the reins, but then they were back on track and heading out into the open. 

Riding was unlike anything Soo had ever attempted. She’d never been sporty in school, consistently ranking at the bottom of her PE class, but since coming to live with Jung she’d felt increasingly drawn to outdoor pursuits. She guessed it made sense - the man was like a walking fitness billboard combined with a personal trainer -  but the beauty of her surroundings also helped. Organised exercise set in drab, mildew-smelling gyms had nothing on the sweeping, sun-soaked plains of the countryside. 

Soo’s muscles had protested at first. It turned out that sitting inside and sitting on a horse were two completely different things. She had tried to put on a brave face around Jung, but inevitably spent the first few hours of each morning in stiff agony as her thighs remembered the trials of the previous day. 

Min Jee had given her herbal poultices and rubbing oils to apply, assuring her that they would lessen the pain, but the treatments were all frustratingly mild compared to modern painkillers. 

What I wouldn’t do for some paracetamol…  

For a while it felt like the exercise was providing more harm than benefit. 

As the weeks passed, however, Soo had noticed a gradual change in her body. She could ride for longer with fewer muscle aches, and the pain in her knees, which had hindered her walking for years, began to fade into the background. 

Today the sunshine was particularly dazzling, and the horses seemed giddy in the clover-scented air. Nae-Cha was nose-to-nose with Baram, moving faster as the path dissolved into wide, flat grassland. 

“How about a race?” Jung asked, turning to Soo with raised eyebrows. 

“What?” Soo’s voice was an octave higher than usual. 

“I think you’re ready!” Jung declared. “Follow me!” 

Before she had a chance to protest, Jung had dug in his heels and Baram had taken off. Nae-Cha snorted, clearly feeling left out of the fun, and suddenly broke into a canter.  

In those first few seconds of the run, it was all Soo could do to hold on. The wind rushed past, filling her ears and making her eyes tear up. 

In a moment of blind panic Soo closed her eyes, bracing for a headlong crash into the dirt. Then she remembered Jung’s words and tried to find the rhythm of Nae-Cha’s gait, steadily regaining balance as they hurtled through the grass. 

Jung whooped as Nae-Cha closed the distance. 

“Come on, apple energy!” He cheered across the grass. “Let’s see what you’ve got!” 

Jung leaned forward in the saddle, urging Baram to pick up the pace. 

Soo gasped as Nae-Cha threw her head forward, and what already felt like a break-neck pace morphed into something closer to flying. 

There was nothing Soo could do to prevent their take-off, but she also wouldn’t have stopped it for the world. 

It was wind and light and a feeling of soaring that Soo hadn’t felt in years. 

How can the world be so beautiful? The wondrous thought caught Soo off-guard. It wasn’t something she’d ever expected to feel again. 

Jung looked back over his shoulder and threw Soo a wide smile. She beamed back. 

Nae-Cha’s hooves were still pounding the earth, but she was clearly losing steam. The mare’s breathing was laboured and her coat was lathered with sweat. Soo sat back in the saddle and tried to slow them down, but Nae-Cha was in a world of her own. 

Jung saw the uncertain look on Soo’s face and slowed Baram to a trot, but Nae-Cha didn’t seem to notice.

“Pull tighter on the reins!” Jung shouted. 

“I’m trying!” 

Soon they had left Jung in their dust. 

“Yah!” She heard Jung’s voice ring out.

Soo glanced down at the panting, sweaty mare, hurtling forward as though her life depended on it. She leaned back further and pulled on the reins with greater force, but Nae-Cha was oblivious. 

There’s no brake on this rocket!

The thought reminded her of something Jung had said early on in their lessons, which had struck her as funny at the time. 

“What if the horse doesn’t want to stop?” Soo had asked. 

“Well, she’s not magic. She’ll have to stop eventually. You just need to hold on until she does.”  

As Soo focussed on keeping her balance, she realised that strangely, she wasn’t afraid. The day was too beautiful for accidents. Nae-Cha would tire soon enough. 

Within moments of that reassuring thought, Baram’s sleek form appeared at their side and Jung’s hand reached out to grab Soo’s reins. 

"Whoa!" He commanded, pulling back tightly to slow them. 

Clearly feeling as though she had proved her point, Nae-Cha dropped to a walk.    

Soo had the feeling of returning to earth.

Jung was watching her with tight lips and a furrow in his brow, clearly trying to work out if she’d been put off riding forever. 

She gave him a grateful smile. “Wow. Thanks! She didn’t seem particularly keen to stop.” 

“Are you okay? You must have been worried.” 

How can a frown look so cute?

“No - that was great!”

Jung’s eyebrows shot up. It wasn’t the reaction he’d been expecting. 

Soo tried not to laugh. She enjoyed surprising him. 

Jung shook his head, his concern giving way to delight. 

“I can’t believe it! I mean, you’re a quick learner, but I thought for sure that would scare you. You did so well to stay on!”

Soo blushed at the praise. “It felt like we were part of the wind!” 

“I know! It’s been years since I’ve ridden like that. I think the last person I raced was Eun.” There was weight in his statement, but it wasn’t a moment for sadness. It felt more like an opening. 

Jung rarely talked about himself. But here was a story, offered freely, that gave her a glimpse of his past. 

“Were you closest to Eun?” 

Jung nodded. “For a while. We were always getting into trouble.” 

His eyes became unfocussed as he spoke, as though seeing the memories play before him.

“Aish, he was hopeless when it came to keeping secrets. Once we broke into the storeroom and took a bag of rice. We left some in Baek Ah’s shoes and under Wook’s pillow; had a ‘snow’ fight - silly stuff. It would have been fine - except one of the servants reported the mess. We got grilled by our mother. She wanted to know if we’d seen the culprit - offered us a treat if we told her who - and Eun fessed up right away! God, he had such a sweet tooth.” 

Soo smiled, remembering Eun’s excitement when he’d presented her with that box of toys. 

“Ah, I miss his cheeky face!” She sighed. “Was he good at riding? Do you think I would have outraced him too?”

“You didn’t outrace me!” Jung gaped in astonishment. 

“Are you sure? I remember you coming from behind back there.” 

Jung scoffed. “I need a witness! The only reason your horse kept running is because she’s too round to stop. Like a boulder.” 

Soo ignored him. “What do you think, Baram? Is Nae-Cha faster?” 

Baram flicked his ears and looked away. 

Soo shot Jung a smug glance. “See? He’s upset by the loss.”

“He’s embarrassed at your poor recollection.” 

Soo bit back a grin. 

They turned the horses around and started back towards the house, this time at a gentler pace. 

Soo watched Jung from the corner of her eye. His shoulders were relaxed, but his expression was far-off.

“Did you stop hanging out with Eun when you learned he was bad at keeping secrets?”

Jung smiled, coming back to the present moment. “Nah. It just made me keep the big ones from him. I’d save those for Baek Ah.” 

“Is Baek Ah good at keeping secrets?”

“The best! Almost to his detriment - I never know what’s going on in his life.” 

Soo thought of all the nights she’d stayed up with Baek Ah, venting her hopes and worries. He’d always offered words of comfort, but kept his own thoughts under close guard.  

“He’s a bit of a mystery, isn’t he? I can’t often read him.” 

“I can’t read a lot of people,” Jung sighed. “Baek Ah says I need to spend more time socialising, and less time camped under the stars.”

“What about me, though? You seem to read me just fine!” 

Jung glanced over, and she suddenly wished he could see all the way to her heart and understand how happy she was to be there with him. 

A hint of wistfulness crossed Jung’s face, like a cloud passing over the sun, and he turned back to the horizon. 

“You, least of all.” 

--------

For weeks the routine of Soo’s life had repeated itself in a comfortable pattern; predictable from the moment she opened her eyes to the time she closed her bedroom door. But with the growing heat of summer, there seemed to be a spreading restlessness in the village that crept into the house and broke up the peace of each day. 

Min Jee had told them of strange rumours that morning, prompting Jung to cancel their riding lesson so he could go and investigate. His role as peace-keeper had been expanding for weeks. Upon first hearing of Jung’s pardon, the villagers had been thrilled that a noble of such high status was going to remain in close proximity. Now, with sightings of suspicious travellers along the road and items going missing, everyone seemed to harbour the expectation that Jung would restore order. 

“It’ll be some homeless man, camping out in the woods, who’s taking things to get by.” Min Jee seemed in her element, connecting the dots of recent events.

“It was only a map that went missing from Master Lee’s house, and some clothes from the dressmaker. He’s probably taken food, too. Or maybe because it’s summer he can live off the land. But anyway - Prince Jung will soon find him and set him back on the road!” 

The comfort Soo took from Min Jee’s words was tempered by a feeling of listlessness when she realised she would have to spend the entire afternoon alone. Min Jee was called off to deliver a baby, and Soo certainly wasn’t going to be of any help there. 

“I’m not of much use around here,” Soo confided to Nae-Cha while passing clover blossoms through the slats of the stall. “Noblewomen are sort of just meant to sit around and look pretty. Oh and sew! I was more productive as a washer-woman.” 

One of the farm dogs started growling in the yard. 

“Settle down,” she heard a deep voice say. It wasn’t Jung. 

Soo thought of the town gossip and felt a burst of fear. She slipped around the stall to where they kept the tack, and retrieved her hunting knife from one of the saddle bags, sliding it free of its sheath as she crept back towards the entrance. 

The yard was quieter now. The dog - whatever had happened to the poor thing - wasn’t making so much as a whimper. She could hear footsteps getting closer. 

Soo tried to slow her breathing, backing into a corner with her knife raised. Then, at the last second, she squeezed her eyes shut. 

A long whistle broke the silence. 

“The welcomes around here are getting stranger and stranger.” 

Soo peeked through her eyelashes. 

Baek Ah was standing a few metres away, arms folded across his chest and one hand under his chin, looking appropriately confused. 

“Oh! It’s you!” Soo detached herself from the wall and bounded towards him. 

“Did you think I was a dangerous intruder?” 

Soo nodded, her heart rate returning to normal. 

“Don’t you think it would be easier to hit someone with your eyes open?”

Soo looked down at the blade. “I guess… I’ll work my way up to it!”

Baek Ah let out a disbelieving laugh. “Where did you even find that?”

“Jung gave it to me.” 

“Did he show you how to use it?”

“I think that’s next on the agenda.”

“Here, let me see.” Baek Ah extended his hand. Soo passed him the handle. 

“I’m not very good at fighting, but I at least know how to hold a knife. It’s only a short blade, so you need to grip it like this.” Baek Ah wrapped his fingers around the handle, keeping his arm bent. 

“Then you strike like this.” With one arm guarding his chest, he showed Soo how to jab an imaginary opponent. He offered the knife to her. “You try.”

Soo copied his stance, thrusting the knife forward. Baek Ah nodded in approval. 

“Keep your eyes open and you’ll do fine.” 

Soo stared at the glinting metal, remembering all the times she’d been caught and overpowered at the palace. King Wang Yo had been able to restrain her with a mere twist of the arm.  

“What if the person grabs me before I can get him?”

Baek Ah looked around the barn, eyes wide. 

“What’s been going on around here to get you so interested in fighting?” 

Soo shrugged. “Jung’s off investigating something in the village. Missing belongings, suspicious travellers… I feel a bit helpless.”

“I’m sure Jung has it under control. He’s been through a lot worse. A few missing goats - or whatever people worry about out here - won’t trouble him.”

Soo grumbled, “But I still wouldn’t be any help in a fight.”

“Of course you wouldn’t! You’re tiny! An attacker could pin you with one arm.”

Soo turned to Baek Ah with big eyes. “But I don’t want to be an easy target! Can’t you show me a secret move or something?”

Baek Ah blinked and chewed his lip. “I guess… No, that’s stupid. What am I thinking…” 

“What?”

“Nothing. Let’s go inside.” He began to turn. 

“Tell me!” Soo demanded, tugging at his sleeve.

Baek Ah looked down at the small, white hand gripping his jacket. 

“Ah, you’re incorrigible!” He must have felt a burst of pity, because his expression wavered. 

“I was just thinking of something Eun showed me. For ages he was small compared to the rest of us, so he used to have to come up with these special moves to free himself.”

Soo clapped. “Yes! Show me one of those!”  

Baek Ah rubbed his neck, looking uncertain. 

“Promise me we’ll go inside after this? I’m going to need a drink.” 

“Promise!” Soo said, sticking out a hand. 

Baek Ah looked down at it in confusion. 

“Shake it,” Soo directed, “and then it’s a deal.” 

Baek Ah sighed. “What am I getting into…” 

But he gripped her hand tightly and shook it. 

--------

An hour later they were seated around a low table in one of the main rooms, nibbling rice cakes and opening a second bottle of wine. 

Baek Ah had raced through the first few glasses. 

“Why am I teaching martial arts to a housewife?” He’d mutter occasionally. There were also more general concerns. “Why did Jung even give you that knife?”

Soo, for the most part, was managing to keep her emotions in check. She was, however, keeping a subtle eye on the door. Considering how late it was getting, she was expecting Jung to walk in at any moment, and she wanted to still be coherent when he did. 

“Am I boring you?” Baek Ah asked, taking a long sip. 

Soo’s eyes darted back to him. “No! Of course not.”

Baek Ah studied her over the rim of his wine glass, his lips drawn into a line. Soo felt as though she were sitting under a magnifying glass. A look of realisation suddenly flickered across Baek Ah’s face. 

“Right, you’re just missing a certain someone.”

Soo pretended not to hear, though she was sure a touch of pink appeared on her cheeks. 

Baek Ah’s surprise became more pronounced. “Really? But when…”

“Has the queen had her baby yet?” Soo scrambled for a change of topic. 

“Not yet,” Baek Ah continued to examine her. “But I’m sure the announcement will come any day. Are you prepared?”

Soo fiddled with one of her rings, twisting it around her finger. She’d once placed her whole future in So’s hands. Now they were worse than strangers. 

“He wanted me to stay with him, but I couldn’t. Not after everything…” She tried to blink away the images that burst into her mind. 

Blood. So much blood. 

Baek Ah looked pained as he watched her. “Did you tell him the whole story?”

Soo shook her head. “Eun-ha was mine. Mine and Jung’s. So didn’t even visit!” It came out with more bitterness than she had intended. 

Baek-Ah’s eyes softened. “Eun-ha? That’s a pretty name.” 

He leaned forward and held up his glass. “A toast to Eun-ha?” 

Soo smiled and raised her glass. “To Eun-ha.” 

They both took big gulps. After pouring some more wine, Baek Ah sat back and ran his eyes over a bookshelf in the corner, where Soo’s least favourite texts competed with each other for dust and obscurity. 

“How are you doing? Being back, I mean. It must be hard being so far away from civilization.”

Soo sighed. “It’s fine. But how about you? Are you sure you’re okay? You’re drinking an awful lot.”

Baek Ah’s expression grew distant, and Soo thought of the recent anniversary of Woo Hee’s death. She wished she could give him a hug. Despite years of careful observation, the etiquette of Goryeo still made her feel helpless at times.  

The silence stretched, until Baek Ah glanced up and caught her troubled stare. As though not wanting to burden her with any more worries, he shook himself and mustered a smile. 

“Ah Soo, I don’t drink to forget! I drink to mark the occasion! If you ever see me turn down a drink - then you should be worried.”

 Baek Ah raised his glass again. “To better days?” He asked. 

Soo frowned. “No. To today! To seeing you again!”

They continued drinking and sharing bits of gossip as the hours ticked by. 

Soo realised that any hope she’d had of greeting Jung sober had somehow slipped away, and began voicing her discontent.

“What is he even doing? It’s already dark! He can’t see in the dark! Noone can track criminals like that!” Her words may have been slightly slurred, but she felt her points were still valid. 

Baek Ah had brought out his twelve-stringed zither and was trying to reproduce a BTS tune he’d heard her humming earlier. The old-fashioned instrument was in no way equipped to replicate the complexity of a modern pop song, but the product of his attempts was still strangely beautiful. 

“He’s probably stopped off at some lord’s house for dinner.” Baek Ah said as he played. “You know how it is. Families will be falling over themselves to host him.”

“But why would he eat there? We have food!” Soo frowned at the empty snack plates in front of them. “I mean, we did…” 

“First it’s dinner, then tea, then wine, wine and more wine. The ceremony never ends. He’ll be stuck there all night if there’s dancing.” 

“Dancing? What do you mean?” Soo pulled herself off the cushion mound she’d constructed and into a more upright position. 

“Oh, you know, gisaeng and the like.” Baek Ah continued strumming, oblivious to Soo’s growing outrage. 

Gisaeng! Dancing! It was one thing to be working late, another entirely to be cavorting with a bunch of lovely, flirtatious entertainers.

Soo threw back the remnants of her glass and wiped a sleeve across her mouth in an extremely un-ladylike fashion. 

“Where are you going?” Baek Ah asked, looking up with surprise as she pulled open the door. 

“To get him!” 

Baek Ah’s voice echoed down the hall as she marched away. 

“Hae Soo! You can’t walk there! It’s too far!”

Soo wasn’t about to be put off by the distance. She made a wobbly beeline for the stables, and after a slightly hazy period where she made some (admittedly) questionable life choices, found herself heading out the front gate on Nae-Cha’s back. 

“We’ll find him and bring him straight back!” Soo filled Nae-Cha in as they walked. 

The mare was reassuringly solid. Soo ran her hand over the soft fur of Nae-Cha’s back, realising with delayed alarm that she’d forgotten the saddle. 

Can you get in trouble for riding drunk? Soo wondered as the house passed out of sight.  

Nae-Cha, though initially surprised by the nighttime adventure, seemed happy enough to go along with the idea. 

The fresh air was helping Soo regain focus, but at the same time making the flaws in her plan painfully obvious. 

I don’t even know where he is.  

As she neared the river, she spotted a small house with light peeking out through the windows. 

I should ask for directions! It seemed like a sensible thing to do. 

She pulled Nae-Cha to a halt before the garden gate. 

“Hello?” She called out. “Anyone home?”

There was a shuffling sound, followed by a latch opening. A grumpy man stuck his head around the door.

 “Who’s there?” His eyes widened at the sight of Soo on the horse. 

“Hello Sir, I’m sorry to disturb you, but I’m looking for my husband, Wang Jung. Do you know where he might be?”

The man closed his mouth and shook his head in disbelief. “My lady, you shouldn’t be out on the roads like this at night! It’s dangerous!”

“But I have to find my husband,” Soo said, drawing herself up straighter and adopting a business-like tone so the man would take her seriously. 

“At least let me escort you! My name’s Kim Sunja. I used to run errands for your husband. I'd feel better if you didn’t go alone. Wait a moment - I’ll get my cloak.” The man disappeared back into the house. 

Soo huffed. She didn’t need an escort! 

She wondered if she should simply sneak off without him, though that seemed a bit rude. 

There was a small banging noise from inside the house, followed by a muffled cry. 

“Mr Kim? Is everything alright?” 

When Soo didn’t get a reply, a voice from somewhere in the back of her mind urged her to take stock of her surroundings. 

There wasn’t much of a moon this evening, and the shadows around them seemed to reach  toward her with creeping fingers. 

The breeze, which had been mild moments before, suddenly made her shiver. 

“Um, mister? If it’s okay with you, I’m going to get going.” 

Soo thought she saw a movement from the corner of her eye and turned sharply. The bush in front of the house seemed denser than before. 

She felt a chill run down her spine. 

Nae-Cha flicked her head nervously and began backing away.  

“Soo!” A voice hollered from somewhere behind her. 

She turned to find Baek Ah running down the road. 

“You gave me a heart-attack! What on earth are you doing?” He was hopelessly out of breath by the time he reached her, clutching Nae-Cha’s halter with both hands before doubling over. “You can’t just run off like that!” 

Soo let out a deep breath and glanced back at the bushes. They rustled harmlessly in the wind. 

I’m being silly, she told herself. There was nothing there. 

She forgot all about Mr Kim as Baek Ah led them back to the house. 

“What possessed you to get on a horse!” Baek Ah’s voice was higher than usual. “Do you even know how to ride? And there’s no saddle! How did you manage to stay on?”

Soo puffed out her cheeks. “Jung taught me.” 

“Jung taught you?! What else did he teach you? My god, I told him to spend more time around women - not to turn women into men!” 

“There’s nothing manly about riding,” Soo objected. 

“Really? How many ladies have you seen going about on horses?”

“Yeon-hwa used to.” 

“She’s an exception! And only because she grew up with so many brothers.” 

Soo thought of all the female riders she’d seen watching the Olympics. 

“Just because there aren’t many women riding yet, doesn’t mean there won’t be in the future.”

Baek Ah shot her a frustrated look. 

“And showers!” Soo continued, her thoughts suddenly going on a tangent. “What I wouldn’t do for a shower! Instant hot water! It’s bliss! I always took them for granted.”

Soo’s brain circled back to something Baek Ah had just said. 

“Wait a second - was it you who encouraged Jung to hang out with gisaeng?”

Baek Ah scratched the back of his head, avoiding eye contact. “Well, not exactly... I just said he’d benefit from a little more exposure to the opposite sex. You know - learn the basics of conversation! He can be so oblivious…” 

“Do you think they’re pretty?” Soo thought of the gisaeng she’d seen at the palace, with lustrous hair and intoxicating perfume. “What if he falls for one of them?” Soo felt her bottom lip quiver.

Baek Ah rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath. 

“Can I tell you a secret, Baek Ah?” Soo asked quietly. “I heard you’re good at keeping secrets.” 

“Go on.”

Soo dropped her head. “I think I like him.” 

The breeze danced around them, filling the silence with a gentle whisper. 

“I’ve been trying to hide it,” she continued, “but sometimes it’s too much.” 

“Why?” Baek Ah stared at her incredulously. “Why would you hide it? Or should I not ask?” 

“I don’t know...” Her wine-muddled thoughts pulsed unhappily. She couldn’t tell him more, because she didn’t know the answer herself. “I wish I knew.”

Out of all the princes, she’d always considered Baek Ah the most sensitive. He'd spent all those years pining for Lady Hae. Surely he’d understand better than anyone, the conflict that froze her in place. 

Baek Ah gave her a sympathetic look, as though reading her mind. “Do you remember how I scolded you for pursuing the 8th Prince? He belonged to Lady Hae. I didn’t think it was right. And I worried about you and So all the time... You were always getting hurt.” He paused and drew a deep breath. 

“But this is different, Soo. You don’t have to be scared. You should follow your heart.” 

“You make it sound so easy! But every time I’ve acted selfishly something awful has happened. I think I’m cursed.” It was hard to disguise the hurt in her voice. 

Baek Ah patted Nae Cha’s neck, giving Soo a small smile. “You think too much of yourself. As though the universe would care about a small grain like you!”

When she didn’t respond, he tried changing tack. “You know, a wise soul once told me that life is short, so I should live how I like and do whatever I want.” 

Soo sniffed. She’d forgotten that drunken lecture. It had been so different back then, but a part of her still wanted to hear the words. “Well - did you?” 

Baek Ah nodded. “I did. And the memories I have of Woo Hee and that time - I wouldn’t trade them for the world.” 

--------

-– Baek Ah –-

Jung arrived home a few hours later. 

He looked stunned as he surveyed the state of the living room. Empty wine bottles were scattered on the floor, pages of an agricultural textbook had been torn out and scrunched into balls, and in the middle of the room lay a fortress of cushions with Soo curled in a ball at the top. 

Baek Ah was sitting to one side, plucking his zither, keeping a watchful eye over the scene. 

“What happened?” Jung asked, after they’d gotten through their initial greetings. 

“Well, some wine was involved, as you can see.”  

Jung kept peering over at the motionless body on the pillow throne. 

“Is she still breathing?”

“I’ve checked a few times,” Baek Ah assured him. 

Soo’s hair had come loose from her braid and was cascading down the side of the feathered fortress. She looked surprisingly peaceful considering how out of control she’d been an hour before. 

“I didn’t know we had that many cushions,” Jung said, still processing the impressive chaos before him. 

Baek Ah, who had been forced to march from room to room, helping Soo carry her enormous horde, nodded solemnly. “This is all of them.”

Jung ran a hand through his hair, looking a bit out of depth. 

“So… You taught her to ride?” Baek Ah prompted.  

“Mm, did she tell you?” Jung started walking around the room, collecting the pages of the torn book. 

“I saw it with my own eyes. She tried to hunt you down earlier. Almost gave me a panic attack.”  Baek Ah shuddered at the memory. After hearing Soo take off down the hall, he’d gone to knock at her bedroom door, expecting her to be sulking, but had found the room completely empty. 

Jung paused in his tidying. “Really? But it’s dark out! How did she even find the gear?” 

“She didn’t - just pulled herself on and took off. By the time I realised what was going on she was out the gate. Thankfully she stopped at that house by the river, otherwise I would have never caught up.” 

It had taken a lot of patience to coax Soo off that damn horse. 

“You understand me, don’t you Nae-Cha?” She had whispered, snuggling her face into the horse’s neck. 

“Wouldn’t Nae-Cha like some sleep?” Baek Ah suggested. 

“No! She needs hugs!”

He’d had to stand there listening to Soo shower the horse with increasingly bizarre praises, like “Stay gold” and “Fighting”, with Soo refusing to budge an inch until Baek Ah finally proposed they could go inside and toast to the horse’s good health. Even then, Soo had forced him to find treats for the plump beast before she would finally say goodnight. 

“But why would she follow me?” Jung rubbed his temple. “She knew I’d be home eventually.” 

The conversation had disturbed Soo’s slumber. She lifted her head from the pillows and blinked a couple of times. 

“Jung! Did Mr Kim pass on my message?”

Jung walked over to her and crouched down. “Hi Soo-yah.” She cocked her head to one side, eyes still adjusting to the candlelight. 

Jung glanced at Baek Ah. “Who’s Mr Kim?” 

“The man by the river,” he answered. 

Soo was gazing up at Jung now, pupils wide. 

“So smooth,” she said, reaching up to touch his cheek. “Better than V’s. You could have had your very own ARMY.”

Baek Ah snorted. 

“Ah,” Jung cleared his throat. “What is she talking about?”

Soo let her face fall back into the pillows. 

Baek Ah sighed, “I lost track a while ago. But I’m glad you’re back. I can finally abdicate responsibility.” He stood and stretched. 

Jung was watching Soo with wary eyes, as one might examine a sleeping tiger. 

“What do you think got into her tonight? She’s not usually like this.”

Baek Ah repressed a laugh. “You’re asking me? You really don’t know?”

“Of course not!” Jung sounded shocked. “Do you?” 

Oh Jung, it’s so obvious…

“I’m staying out of it.” Baek Ah gathered up his belongings. 

“Hyung! Tell me!”

“Look, Hae Soo and I were drinking buddies for a while, but I’ve never seen anything like this... I’d say she has something on her mind.”

Jung’s eyebrows shot up. “Do you think it’s something bad?”

Baek Ah rolled his eyes. "Why don’t you ask her? And if you can’t bring yourself to do that much, at least ask her who V is. The mystery is killing me.”

Jung scratched his head. “I guess I should carry her back to her room.” 

Baek Ah took this as his window to leave. 

“Good night, brother,” he said, brushing the creases from his jacket and heading for the door. 

He paused just before the threshold, adding softly, “Good luck.”

These fools need all the help they can get.

Chapter Text

-– Baek Ah –-

Ever since Baek Ah was little, when he’d woken one morning to find rice in his shoes and Jung and Eun kneeling in the courtyard with their arms raised, struggling to hold up large buckets of stones, Baek Ah had vowed to become good at keeping secrets. He’d always taken pride in being discreet, and for a time his brothers had even nicknamed him ‘the mirror’, for they often revealed more about themselves when talking to him than they ever got information back. 

Soo’s drunken revelations had come as a shock. She’d been living with Jung for almost a year, so naturally some feelings were bound to develop, but Baek Ah had seen the intensity of her love for So. Of all the relationships he’d seen over the years, Soo and So’s had burned the brightest. Like a wildfire it had seemed unstoppable; all-consuming. 

How could she move on from that? 

Perhaps it wasn’t that Soo’s love for So had burned out. But there was a difference, Baek Ah knew, between loving someone and still having love for them. Baek Ah’s own relationship with So had changed over the years. With Woo Hee’s death, a part of Baek Ah that had always recognised the grace and beauty in others had died too. He no longer dared to stay close to the King, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully turn away. 

“So didn’t even visit! ” The anguish in Soo’s voice had made Baek Ah’s heart ache.  

He pictured her wandering the halls of palace in the weeks after So’s marriage, head held high, face inscrutable - beautiful, perhaps, to some - but with a vacancy that made him shiver. How had So not realised? She’d been withering like a flower in the frost. 

At least Jung had noticed. 

Baek Ah would never have picked his little brother as a suitable match. Jung was wild and coarse; reluctant to adhere to routine or etiquette, and naive when it came to matters of the heart. Still, there was a surprising softness in the way he interacted with Soo. It was as though all of Jung’s previous energy was now being channelled in one direction, towards one purpose: making Soo happy. And Baek Ah had to give it to Jung; it seemed to be working.

There had been a moment yesterday, when Baek Ah had first rounded the corner of the stables, that he hadn’t recognised the figure before him. With her shoulders back and knife raised, Soo had glowed with an energy worthy of great ballads.

So when Baek Ah saw his brother’s grim expression at breakfast the next morning, he felt tempted, for the first time in his life, to reveal something that seemed obvious to the world, but was clearly still a secret to Jung. 

You’re married to the woman you love, and she, against all odds, somehow loves you back - what on earth is there to be miserable about? 

Baek Ah opened his mouth to say as much, but a sudden thought held him back. Maybe something happened last night? 

“It looks like it might rain later,” Baek Ah said, deciding that a gentler approach would be needed.

“Hm.” Jung was barely listening, lost deep down in some well of self-pity. 

“Well I was just thinking, if you want to take Soo out riding and find out what’s on her mind, it would be better to do so this morning.” 

“There’s no need.” Jung absently prodded the vegetables in his bowl. “I know why she’s upset.”

Baek Ah put down his chopsticks, giving Jung his full attention. “Really? How?” 

“She told me.”

Baek Ah could feel himself growing impatient. “Well? What is it?”

“She misses So.”

Baek Ah sat back. It wasn’t the news he’d been expecting. “Really? Are you sure?” 

Jung nodded glumly. “When I was putting her to bed she said she missed him.”

Baek Ah rubbed his temple, feeling lost. Soo had only just confessed she liked Jung. She wasn’t one to waver so abruptly. “What were her exact words?”

“‘I miss him. I miss him. Why won’t he come? Did he forget about me? ’” Jung’s tone was bleak as he repeated Soo’s words. “I thought she was happy to be back…”

No way… 

Baek Ah recalled how blind-drunk Soo had been, referring to him by bizarre titles like ‘Mr-Mozart-music-man’ and spouting stories so outlandish they were either a sign of deep intelligence and impressive creativity, or troubling madness. 

Was she trying to tell Jung her feelings? It suddenly didn’t feel like Baek Ah’s place to intervene. 

“I wouldn’t read much into that. She couldn’t even find her nose by the end there… Anyway, why were you out so long?”

Jung shrugged. “Lord Lee invited me to dine. I couldn’t say no.” 

Baek Ah sighed. “I thought as much. Did any women attend?”

“Just his wife and daughters. Oh, and a singer.”

Baek Ah cringed. “Whatever happens, don’t tell Soo.”

“Why?”

“Well, I can’t fully explain it,” Baek Ah paused, scrambling for a reason that wasn’t a complete lie, “but I think she’s had a run-in with a singer at some point… Just don’t mention the entertainer!” 

Naturally, it was at that exact moment that Soo decided to grace them with her presence. Her small frame didn’t take up much of the doorway, though she wobbled precariously over the threshold and almost bumped into the wall. 

Baek Ah didn’t know how much of the conversation she’d heard, but given the state of her, there was a good chance she hadn’t processed any of it. Soo’s hair was only half up, with a pin roughly jammed into a messy bun. Wisps were already beginning to escape from the top, forming a halo around her tired face. 

She looks pale.

Baek Ah didn’t feel so fit himself. It had been a while since he’d had that much to drink. Soo always seemed to spark an impulse in him to let loose, perhaps because he felt so comfortable in her presence. Whatever the case, they had pushed the limits too far last night and were now feeling the unfortunate side-effects. 

“Good morning Soo, how are you feeling?” Baek Ah tried to get the conversation moving in a new direction. 

Soo winced and held a finger to her lips. “Not so loud.” 

Baek Ah bit back a smile. She was like this when they drank. The reserved, hesitant court lady transformed into a completely different person, becoming outspoken and strangely informal. It was like witnessing a peacock morph into a duck. The peacock was elegant and noble, but the duck was somehow more endearing. He wondered if this was closer to Soo’s true nature; how she acted behind closed doors. 

Soo dragged her feet to the table and half-sat, half-fell onto one of the cushions Jung had liberated from the living room fortress. After taking a moment to gather herself, she picked up a cup of tea and drained its contents. Then she turned to Jung, eyes flashing, and asked in a somewhat loaded tone, “Was it fun?”

“Pardon?” Jung replied, clearly lost. He threw a helpless look at Baek Ah.

Oh, now you want a clue!

“The party you attended. Were there lots of nice people?” Casually worded, Soo’s question seemed innocent enough. Jung blinked at her. 

Baek Ah desperately tried to catch his brother’s gaze. Don’t mention the gisaeng!  

Jung swallowed. “Mm-hmm. The Lees and their daughters were very hospitable.”

Aish, did he have to phrase it that way? Baek Ah resisted the urge to kick Jung under the table. It’s worse than I imagined.  

“How nice.” The change in Soo’s demeanour was subtle and swift. She was now taking an unusual interest in the cutlery before her, a remote look in her eyes. 

He doesn’t have a chance…

Soo had always struck Baek Ah as a proud woman, and pride was a prickly substance. She wasn’t the sort of person to make the first move, and Baek Ah suspected she’d rather grow old waiting than risk another blow to her ego. 

They just need to talk to each other!

Baek Ah suddenly thought of a work-around. “Jung was telling me there’s a beautiful spot in the forest, just a short way off. Maybe it's worth exploring?”

Jung stared at him, brow furrowed. Baek Ah pushed forward. “What do you say, Soo? You could take Nae-Cha. I’m sure she’d enjoy the exercise.” 

Soo glanced from Baek Ah to Jung, looking sceptical. A strand of hair had fallen over her face, poking at one of her eyes. She sighed and pushed it away. “That does sound nice. When shall we go?” 

“How about after breakfast?” Baek Ah replied on Jung’s behalf. “Before it rains.” 

Soo let out a deep breath. “Give me a moment,” she said, pouring another cup of tea and gulping a large mouthful. “I think I’m still waking up.”  

-– Hae Soo –-

Soo felt like death. Her head was pounding, her mouth was dry, and she’d been rudely torn from sleep by a nightmare that even now, hours later, made her shiver. 

In the dream Baek Ah had been standing on the edge of a bridge, high above a river, staring down into the churning blackness below. What worried her the most about the vision was not the height of the bridge or the precariousness of his footing, but the clothes he’d been wearing. A white shirt and black jeans. Her brain was mixing up timelines again. She wondered if it meant something, like a hairline crack in a vase that would ultimately spell disaster. 

The night of excessive drinking certainly hadn’t helped clear her mind. The only thing it had successfully cleared was her memory of events. 

Was there a tower? She remembered feeling like a bird, high-up in a nest. And she had a vague recollection that she’d lectured Baek Ah on the merits of fiction writing. But things had gotten pretty murky after their toast to Nae-Cha. 

When did Jung get home?

She had hoped he would be happy to see her, but he’d barely said hello since she walked through the door. 

The breakfast before them made her stomach turn. All those vegetables, lovingly pickled; the omelettes, hand-made and delicately seasoned; fresh fruit and rice with barley - it was all healthy, to be sure. But god, she missed coffee. 

“Do you want me to remove those? Or are you going to eat them?” Jung asked, gesturing to a plate of radishes she’d been frowning at for more than a few minutes. 

“No.” She didn’t think she could manage more than rice. “Do you want them?”

“Jung hates radishes,” Baek Ah said, plucking the plate from the table. 

“Since when?” Soo gaped, remembering all the side dishes she’d requested for previous lunches. 

“Since forever,” Baek Ah replied, heaping a pile of radish into his bowl. 

Soo turned to Jung, who was pushing a piece of omelette around his plate. 

“But you never said anything! I would have stopped ordering them!” Soo was more shocked than upset. How hadn’t she noticed? 

Jung shrugged, “I knew you liked them.” 

The words hit her like an arrow, lodging deep in her chest. She generally thought of herself as a caring person, but here she was, living with this man for an entire year, and she didn’t even know what food he liked? 

What else have I missed?

She was still dwelling on her thoughtlessness an hour later when she bumped into Baek Ah. She had returned to her room to change clothes, and was now heading for the stables. Baek Ah was wearing a long travelling cloak, his zither hanging in a case over his shoulder. 

“Why are you carrying that?” She nodded to his bag. “Aren’t you coming with us to the forest?” 

Baek Ah shook his head, giving her a peculiar smile. “It’s better if I leave now.”

Soo felt a burst of disappointment. “But you just got here! You’ve barely seen Jung!”

Baek Ah’s smile stretched a little wider. “I came to see you, dummy. I’m glad you’re doing better.”

Soo felt her eyes prickle. Why was she always saying goodbye? “I’m sorry I was such a mess last night… Thanks for putting me to bed.” 

Baek Ah blinked, a sudden realisation dawning in his eyes. “Ah, I didn’t. That was Jung.” 

Jung?

Soo opened and closed her mouth. She still couldn’t remember that point of the evening. It seemed tragic that her brain had erased so many hours. 

She thought of her dream and winced. Baek Ah was standing only a metre away, solid and healthy - a real person, not a hazy apparition. And yet she still had a bad feeling, like a chill passing across her skin. 

When will I see him again?

He was one of her few friends. Before she could second-guess the propriety of her actions, she stepped forward and wrapped him in a hug. “Stay safe,” she told him, squeezing her arms tightly. 

Baek Ah stood there, silent and unmoving, until she finally released her grip and stepped back. 

“You’re a good drinking buddy,” she said. “I’ll miss you.”

Baek Ah opened his mouth, as though to tell her something, but then hesitated. A flicker of frustration crossed his face, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. 

He knows something. 

Before she could ask what, Baek Ah shook his head and smiled. “Ah Soo-yah, you’ll be fine. Just don’t do anything dangerous. Only ride at day, don’t - for the love of god - buy any more cushions, and remember: if you’re ever in a fight - keep your eyes open.” 

--------

The sound of hoofbeats did little to mask the awkward silence between them. Soo usually loved riding, but today the atmosphere was tense.

Jung had only said a few words since the start of their trek, muttering something about a clearing they were heading for. 

The hangover wasn’t helping. Soo’s head was throbbing, making her patience shorter than usual, so when Jung still hadn’t spoken after several miles, she felt compelled to break the silence. 

“Baek Ah said you put me to bed,” she started, “but I honestly can’t remember. Did I say something awful?” 

Jung took a while to reply, as though struggling to find a diplomatic response. “No. You were just upset.” 

“I was? Why? Did something happen?” 

“You said you missed him.” 

Soo was watching Jung as he spoke, and noticed the way his shoulders hunched forward. She felt her mouth fall open in shock. 

I said I missed So? That can’t be right. Maybe he misheard?

“What else did I say?” 

Jung sighed, his gaze fixed ahead. “A lot of it was hard to make out. There were some complaints about candles and the dark - you said you wanted to see more of the moon. What else…” He suddenly looked up with a curious expression. “Who’s V?”

“V? ” Soo spluttered. She only knew one V, and he was many, many centuries away from making an appearance. 

“Yea, V. You said he had nice skin.” The side of Jung’s mouth twitched upwards as he spoke, and Soo had a feeling she wasn’t getting the whole story.

“I would never!” She sat up straighter in the saddle. “I mean, he does have nice skin… But that doesn’t sound like something I’d say.” 

“Well, you implied it. Was he someone you liked?”

Soo thought of all the millions of fans that would happily mow her down to get V’s autograph and snorted. 

“As if! There’s no point in liking someone like that. He’s on another level.”

“Do you mean he’s from a lower class?”

Soo bit her lip. “Well, not exactly… He’s a singer. I used to like his music.” 

Jung was silent again. 

He thinks I miss So and I’m obsessed with some musician’s skin? Well, no wonder this is awkward…

“I used to listen to a lot of artists when I was younger,” she said, trying to clear the misunderstanding. “I thought I’d forgotten all their songs, but a few came back to me last night. Shall I sing one?”

Jung became very still, head tilted slightly to one side.

I’ll take that as a yes.  

Despite her own assertions that she was not very talented, Soo had always loved singing. Her happiest memories of going out with friends had usually ended with them at karaoke, getting lost in love tunes. She reached into one of these memories now to pick out a song. It was a slow ballad called “Breathe”, which had long been a favourite of hers. She took a deep breath and began to sing. 

The sound of her voice echoing through the trees startled her at first. It was soft and lonely, like a solemn hymn. But as she got further through the lyrics, her confidence grew, and the forest seemed to fill with music from root to canopy.

By the time she finished the song, a deep calm had settled around them. The horses were picking their way over the loamy ground with quiet ease; the trail weaving playfully ahead. It was a beautiful part of the forest, with towering pines and gentle slopes. There were thin beams of light piercing the trees, catching the wings of little flying insects and making them shine. 

Soo turned to Jung with a smile. “Did you like it?”

He didn’t smile back.  

Was I that bad? 

But no, that couldn’t explain the sudden static in the air.  

Jung was staring in a way that made her skin grow hot. His eyes were dark, his lips slightly parted, and there was a pull in his gaze that made her feel both beautiful and dangerous; as though she alone could command that expression. Soo cleared her throat. 

“Was that one of V’s songs?” Jung asked quietly, as though afraid to hear the answer. 

Is he jealous? The idea was in equal measures preposterous and appealing. 

“No,” Soo assured him. “That one was just for you.” 

“But it’s not until next month.” His words carried softly across the glen, but the meaning was lost on her.  

“Hm?” 

“My birthday,” he said, eyes locked on hers. 

He’s joking. 

Soo tried to ground herself, but her stomach was doing backflips. It was strange how one person could make you feel like the centre of the world. 

“Oh dear,” Soo shook her head with a look of mock sympathy, trying to keep her tone light. “I guess you’ll have to sit through that ordeal twice this year.” 

He was still staring at her, even now. She was reluctant to let the conversation lapse. The air seemed to crackle with each silence. “I can sing something else next time. What’s your favourite song?” 

“That one,” Jung said. “The one you just sang. That’s my favourite.” 

Soo’s first impulse was to laugh, but when she saw his expression the thought died away. 

He’s serious. 

She’d never been good at reading Jung, but perhaps it was only that she hadn’t been paying attention. In that moment, his thoughts seemed clearer than her own. 

He likes me? The idea made Soo's heart skip a beat. He does. He must! No one looks at their friend like that... But among those cheerful, wildly exciting thoughts another part of her brain demanded caution. I can’t be sure. He might just love music. Or be a really, really early Lee Hi fan. The songs of this era are pretty boring... Jung was still such a mystery. She thought back to that morning, and how she hadn’t even known about his hatred of radishes. 

“So you’re a fan of that song - what else? What’s your favourite food?” 

Jung swallowed, trying to pull himself back to the present moment. 

“Um, I guess rice cakes are my favourite.”

“Sweet or savoury?”

“Both,” Jung smiled. “But we had a cook growing up who would make them with red bean paste, and those were the best. Eun and I could never get enough. We’d stuff our pockets full so we had some for later.” 

Baram had pulled ahead on the track, obscuring Jung’s face from view. Soo could only see his back now, but it wasn’t a bad view. He always sat so straight, making him look even taller than he already was. The fabric of his jacket stretched tightly across his shoulders. “I can’t imagine you as a child. You must have eaten a lot to grow so tall.”

Jung laughed. “Oh, yes. We terrorised the cooks. Seven princes all going through growth spurts - they could never make enough.” 

Jung as a teenager was easier to imagine. He’d been nineteen when they’d first met. Hae Soo was only a year younger than Jung, though in her previous life as Ha Jin she’d been nearing thirty. 

“Who was your first crush?” Soo asked, trying to sound nonchalant. She was dying to know what sort of woman Jung would fall for. 

“‘Crush’?” A cute furrow appeared between his eyebrows. “I’m not familiar with that term.”

“You know, the first person you liked. The first girl that made your heart race.” 

Jung was silent for a moment. “She was a friend of Eun’s.”

“What made you fall for her?”

“She’d always put herself in danger to help others. One time she even broke the palace rules to keep me safe.” 

Soo felt a burst of jealousy imagining this dream woman. “She sounds reckless.”

“She was brave.” 

“Did you court her?” The question slipped out before Soo could stop it. 

“No,” Jung sighed, “She was oblivious.” 

This discovery pleased Soo more than it should have. I don’t just want him to be happy, she realised. I want him to be happy with me. 

They rounded a final bend of the trail and entered a clearing ringed with oak and maple trees. 

“Did someone plant these?” Soo asked, gesturing to the near-perfect circle of trunks. 

“Yes, the villagers come up here to pray.” Jung pointed to the other end of the clearing, where a wooden archway towered over a stone basin. There were small piles of stones heaped to each side of the arch, reminding Soo of the prayer towers she’d visited near the palace. 

She swung herself off Nae-Cha and walked over to the basin, dipping her fingers in the water that was pooled there. Perhaps it was simply the coldness of the water, but a chill ran up her spine and made her stomach knot. She pressed her hands together and dropped her head.

Please let me stay by his side. It was the only thing she wanted now. 

But if some higher beings were actually listening, the response they provided did not instil confidence. There was a flash of blue across the clearing, followed by a rumble of thunder in the distance.

She turned to Jung, her face scrunched in worry. 

“We’d better head back,” he said. “Or we’ll be soaked.”

Despite urging the horses to pick up the pace, they were still a few fields away from home when the first raindrops fell. The wind had picked up and was buffeting them from every side, and it wasn’t long before the clouds tore open and a biblical amount of water descended. 

Soo gasped as the droplets soaked through her jacket and slid down her back. Strands of hair were plastering her face, and the wind was howling in her ears, but the ever-nearing thunder was by far her biggest worry. 

They sprinted the last mile. Huge puddles had emerged in the courtyard, causing the horses to kick up spray as they pulled to a halt. Soo clicked her tongue and Nae-Cha ducked under the roof of the stables. Finally out of the wind, Soo breathed a sigh of relief. 

Jung had already unmounted. He came over to help. 

“Here,” he said, reaching up to hold her waist. Soo’s heart stuttered as his fingers pressed into the wet fabric of her shirt, and she half-hopped, half-dropped to the ground before his grip was fully secure. She stumbled on the landing, putting her hands up in panic as she crashed into Jung’s chest. Her right hand struck something solid beneath his jacket. It was a small, round object tucked just above his heart. 

She looked up and Jung’s face was only inches away. His expression was serious again, as though he were debating something, and she desperately hoped it was the same thing she was considering. 

If I reach up just a little… She hadn’t been this near to him in weeks, and she suddenly felt the urge to eliminate all space between them. 

Jung’s eyes were hooded, head tilted to one side, and his lips -

My god, his lips.

She was leaning in, millimetre by millimetre, pulled by an invisible thread, and soon she’d be past the point that any sane friend would venture.

Sorry, dear friendship. 

Seconds from closing the gap, their trance was broken by the sound of bells. 

Bells?! Are you kidding me? 

Somewhere in the distance, real hear-ye-style metal bells were clanging. 

Jung stepped back, eyes alert. 

“What is it?” Soo asked.

“Trouble. Come on.” He grabbed her hand and led her back to the house. 

Min Jee was standing in the foyer, wringing her hands with a distressed look. “They found a body, Your Highness. It’s Kim Sunja.” 

The name struck a note with Soo. “Mr Kim?” Wasn’t he their neighbour down the road?

Jung turned to her. “You saw him yesterday?”

Soo nodded. “In that house by the river. He was going to help me find you. But he went back inside and then Baek Ah took me home.” Her memory of events was hazy. 

A shadow of fear crossed Jung’s face. “Maybe the reports are wrong. I’ll need to see for myself.” 

He went to his room to change, returning with a heavy cloak and thick boots. The sword hanging from his belt caused Soo’s unease to grow. Rain was hammering the roof with relentless force. 

“It’s pouring out there,” Soo said, trying to slow his departure. 

“I have to go before the villagers move the body.” Jung’s tone was business-like, and he wasn’t meeting her eyes. 

What isn’t he telling me?

Jung turned to Min Jee before opening the door. “I’ll be back before nightfall. Don’t let Soo-yah out of your sight.” 

And with those final words he was gone, leaving Soo with a deep, gnawing dread.

--------

Soo had been pacing, trying to keep her eyes open, but at some point her hangover had won out and she’d fallen asleep with her head against the desk. When she woke the room was dim, but with rain clouds still covering the sky it was impossible to tell how late it was. 

Is Jung home? 

She’d tried to order her memories of the night before, but hadn’t managed to come up with any new ones. The death of Mr Kim was a shock. She wanted to know what Jung had found at the scene, but if she had to be completely honest, her thoughts were not entirely focussed on the investigation. She also wanted to know what that moment in the stables had meant. 

Did he feel it too?

It seemed like her emotions were super-charged. When she thought back to that morning her pulse quickened, and she was tense and anxious and excited all at once. 

I need to see him. 

It was hopeless trying to deny it. She kept thinking of the mystery girl Jung said he’d had a crush on. She couldn’t go on like this, pining from afar while he remained oblivious. She’d have to find a way to tell him. 

I can be brave, too. 

She slipped into the hall, careful not to wake Min Jee in the bedroom next door, and made her way towards Jung’s room. 

Am I crazy? The thought nagged at her. Did I imagine that look? 

She hesitated beside his door. Don’t make things worse, the coward in her counselled. Go back to bed .

She began to turn away, but her foot struck something hard. She bent down and picked up the object, turning it over in her hands. The hallway was dark, but it seemed familiar somehow. If she held it up to the window she could just make out its shadowy shape: a silver shell with a long metal rod. A hairpin. It was one of hers, she was sure, but she hadn’t seen it in years. 

Not since that night at the palace…

The memory of So’s manhunt came back to her.

“Step aside. I’ll check it myself.”

“It’s the room of an unmarried girl. Instead of going through that shame - I’d rather die.”

It was the pin she’d held to her throat. 

Her thoughts flew back to the moment when she’d fallen against Jung and felt something under his shirt. 

He kept it? All this time? 

It seemed absurd, but now that the idea had taken root, she couldn’t seem to shake it loose. With a dawning wonder her brain began to pull up other memories; Jung laughing at her lame jokes, entertaining her for hours on end, waking her from her nightmares. The memories all pointed to the same, unbelievable conclusion. 

She was so lost in thought she didn’t hear the door open. 

“Soo-yah? Is everything alright?” Jung’s voice was low. 

She spun around, eyes wide in disbelief, and held out the pin. Her hand was trembling slightly. “The girl you had a crush on - was it me?” She was desperate, suddenly, to know the truth, but the fear of being disappointed made her stomach twist. 

There were dark circles under Jung’s eyes. He tried to muster a half-smile, but it wasn’t convincing. He looked pained.  

“It’s always been you, Soo-yah.” 

The drumming sound of the rain; the faint smell of woodfire and lilies; the outline of Jung’s face in the shadowy darkness - all of Soo’s senses were heightened in that moment.

Seven years. Jung had liked her all that time.

And how long had Soo waited for a love like that? Someone who would stay with her through the pain and hardship; see her at her lowest and still choose to be with her. 

Her feet dragged her forward without further thought. She reached up a hand. Jung’s lips were drawn together, expression guarded, but as her fingers touched his cheek she heard his breath catch. His eyelids fluttered closed for a heartbeat. When he opened them again it was as though a screen had been pulled away, and she could see clear as day how long he’d waited for this moment.  

The gravity was inescapable. She stretched up and kissed him; a butterfly-soft kiss that lasted only a second. He pulled back sharply, as though he had been burnt. 

“Don’t,” Jung said, voice strained. “I know you miss him.”

Soo stiffened, shock mixing with disbelief. “But I don’t. I haven’t for a while…” The colour drained from her face. Is this about last night? She still couldn’t remember what she’d said, but she knew without question that it wasn’t So she’d been thinking of. 

“I missed you!”

Did he believe her? Despite their proximity, she couldn’t make out his reaction. 

How can I convince him? 

“ Jung, I -” 

But she didn’t need to say it. Jung's hands were suddenly on her waist and he was pulling her in, cupping her face and kissing her; kissing her so deeply she thought she might combust. 

It wasn’t a stolen kiss, or one she felt she’d had to earn; it was a kiss shared by equals. She didn’t have to hold back or tread lightly. This was Jung and she was safe. She felt a wonderful warmth unfurling in her stomach. She looped her arms around Jung’s neck and pressed her body tighter, grinning as she heard him gasp. 

This is crazy. A part of her mused. It’s Jung! But a stronger feeling was soon drowning out those other thoughts. 

The look on Jung’s face wasn’t helping. It was the expression of someone who’d been granted the deepest wish of their soul, and would happily risk hellfire before giving it up. 

Soo pushed Jung through the doorway and they stumbled across the room, bumping into a table. 

Between kisses she grabbed at his jacket, pulling it open and tugging up his shirt so she could run her hands over his stomach. 

“Soo-yah!” Jung gripped her shoulders, sounding breathless. “Don’t you think we should slow down?”

“We’ve been married almost a year,” Soo said, gazing at the wonder of his exposed chest. “I think the time for dallying has passed.” His skin felt like silk, she marvelled, running her hands across the contours of his abdomen.     

She was half-leaning, half-sitting on the table by this point. In her haste to free Jung of his shirt, her elbow knocked a vase and it smashed to the ground. 

“Oops,” Soo whispered. “I hope that wasn’t expensive.”

Jung laughed, leaning his forehead against hers. “I never liked it anyway.” His voice was uneven, as though he’d travelled very far, very fast. 

Min Jee’s voice rang out from the hall. “Your Highness? Master Jung? Is everything alright?” 

Jung looked down at his state of semi-undress and then back up at Soo, eyes bright with amusement. He cleared his throat and said with surprising calmness, “I just bumped a vase, Min Jee. You can go back to bed.”  

Soo slid her fingers up his spine and watched his expression darken. 

“You should have told her the truth,” Soo whispered, biting her lip to stifle a laugh. “It would have made her year.”  

Jung tucked a strand of hair behind Soo’s ear, cupping her face as reverently as one holding a crown. “You’re so beautiful.” 

She gazed up at him, feeling impossibly happy. Jung was more than beautiful. He was everything. “I love you.” The word slipped out. Had she said it too soon? 

There was a subtle change in his eyes, adoration giving way to awe, and she realised no, there was never a wrong time to say it. 

Jung leaned down again to kiss her, and Soo used the opportunity to wrap her legs around his waist, prompting another sharp intake of breath. 

“Soo-yah, you’re driving me crazy. I don’t know how much longer I can fend off these advances.”

“Jung,” Soo replied, her breathing becoming considerably less even between kisses. “Enough with the talking.” It wasn’t the way a noblewoman of the Goryeo era would speak, and it certainly wasn’t the way one would behave, but Soo was tired of putting on an act. Jung wouldn’t mind, anyway. She turned her attention to his remaining clothes. Maybe, as a former soldier, he needed clear commandments. She didn’t want to leave any doubt. 

“I want this,” she said, pushing herself off the table and into his arms. “I really, desperately want this.”

The drumming rain was no match for the pounding of her heart. 

“So stop holding back,” she told him, “and make me your wife.”  

Chapter Text

-- Baek Ah --

It had been a long day of travelling, made worse by the torrential rain that had pelted down for the last quarter of his ride. Baek Ah left small puddles with each footstep along the palace corridor, thankful there was no one in sight to witness his bedraggled state. Even his thick wool cloak had succumbed to the downpour, swelling in thickness and weight, so that it now resembled a battered farm rug more closely than a tailored garment. 

The wind was still howling outside, but the smooth wooden floor cushioned the sound of his footsteps and he could feel the heat of the palace slowly seeping into his stiff fingers, making him grateful for the shelter. 

The room So had given him was large and tastefully furnished. It was his to stay in as long as he pleased, though he had found himself looking for more excuses to leave with the passing years. 

Baek Ah peeled off his wet layers and set them aside for the servants to deal with. His limbs were weary. He hadn’t travelled much lately, and while it was a distance that could be covered in a day, speed had come at the cost of his leg muscles.

I’m never drinking again, he thought, groaning as he bent down to pull off his wet socks. His head was aching. 

He was already imagining his soft pillow, his eyelids growing heavy, when a loud voice ripped him from his daze. 

“It’s been months since her visit and you’re still sulking?” It wasn’t a flattering tone. The Queen’s anger was painfully clear, even from down the hall. 

“Leave me in peace,” So sighed. 

“It’s pathetic!” Yeon-hwa continued, obviously indifferent to those who might overhear. “How will the kingdom thrive under such a weak leader?”

“How will my heir survive with a demon for a mother?” So snapped in reply. Baek Ah froze. It was unlike So to rise to the bait. He usually showed more restraint. 

Careful, Yeon-hwa, Baek Ah thought. You’ve touched a nerve. 

“Threatening guests with poison!” So’s voice was laced with disgust. “Are you sure you’re human?” 

“Someone had to clean up your mess.” Yeon-hwa said, sounding eerily calm, as though she’d simply swatted a fly. 

There was a weighty silence, and Baek Ah knew, even without being able to see Yeon-hwa’s face, that she immediately regretted the words. 

“What did you say?” So’s tone was measured and dangerously sharp. 

“Let go! You’re hurting me!” Panicked whimpers echoed down the hall. 

“What did you do?” 

There was a long pause. Baek Ah could picture So’s grip twisting tighter, and it seemed an age before Yeon-Hwa finally relented. “You think I’d let any bastard compete for the throne?”

“You didn’t…” 

There was a crash of china. 

Yeon-hwa yelped. “You’ll harm the baby!” 

Baek Ah pictured the rage in So’s grasp. Would he actually hurt her?  

So gave a furious cry. A door was thrown open and footsteps rushed down the hall. 

“Baek Ah!” A fist pounded on his door. The shadow outside sounded desperate. Baek Ah didn’t really have a choice. He slid the door open for So, who looked as pale as one who had just woken up to find himself in the underworld, with no memory of how he’d been mortally wounded.

“I think Yeon-hwa’s done something… Something terrible.” So’s breathing was shallow, his face a ghastly shade of grey. “Was Soo with child?”

Baek Ah sat down. The time had finally come. 

“She was.” The words seemed to stick in his throat as he said them. Was. An awful thing, that word. A past with no future. A pathway with no continuance. 

So’s breath caught. “When?”

“Last winter. The baby died.” Eun-ha. She would have been 100 days old by now. 

“But why? What happened?” So was gripping the doorframe, his knuckles white. 

He doesn’t want to believe it. 

“I think you know.” 

Baek Ah had wanted to deliver the news gently, but his throat tightened with revulsion. 

After everything Soo did for you - why couldn’t you protect her? 

So stumbled backwards, as though trying to escape the blow. “The letters! I knew something was wrong!” A strangled sound escaped his lips. 

“No wonder she couldn’t bear to look at me…” He was talking to himself now, wringing his hands with a frenzied expression. “I have to go to her. I have to explain.”

“No.” A cold voice split the air. Yeon-hwa was clutching a pillar, teeth bared in pain, her enormous belly straining beneath a scarlet robe.  “I’m hours away from having this baby. You. Are. Not. Leaving!” She spat each word, neck stretched forward and veins bulging. It was a horrible image, like watching a shaman exorcise a spirit through ritual possession. Baek Ah was both appalled and transfixed. 

“You’re insane!” So said, spinning on his heel and starting down the hall towards the courtyard. 

She’s in labour, Baek Ah realised. 

The pain briefly cleared from Yeon-hwa’s face and she laughed. It was a manic sound, like someone on the edge of a breakdown. “I’m like this because of you! You just had to make it obvious in front of everyone, didn’t you?” Her face twisted with hatred. “‘I still love you’”, she parroted. “You and your precious Soo-yah! You didn’t give me a choice!” There was triumph in her voice.

Is she talking about that moment at the celebration? 

So suddenly stopped walking and looked back, horror dawning on his face. 

Oh Yeon-hwa, what have you done?

Another contraction seized her and she doubled over, hands balled into fists. As it passed she started laughing again. 

“Go! Yes, run to her! You can apologise in person. But I’d be quick!” Yeon-hwa’s eyes flashed as her lips pulled into a thin smile. “I hear that area is overrun with crime.” 

-- Hae Soo --

The bed was unbelievably cosy. With each deep breath Soo could smell the soap she’d made for Jung, a citrus scent with subtle notes of thyme, and warm sunshine was kissing her hair. She was reluctant to open her eyes. With drowsy slowness she reached a hand to the other side of the mat, patting around, but when she didn’t find the solid form she’d been expecting, she blinked and sat up. Jung was gone. 

Sunlight was peeking through the shutters. She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and padded to the door, spotting a sheet of parchment as she passed Jung’s desk. It was a note. 

You looked so peaceful - I didn’t want to wake you. I’m needed in the village, but I’ll be back later. Stay safe while I’m gone. Love, your dear husband.

She ran a finger over the word “Love”. 

He’s never said that before, Soo thought, but then the memories of the previous night came back to her. 

“This feels like a dream,” he’d said, running a hand down her arm. 

“A good one, I hope,” Soo murmured, tucking her head against his shoulder. 

He’d kissed the top of her head. “I never thought… I never dared to hope for this.” 

She remembered the way he’d looked at her after that song in the forest, and the way his eyes lit up whenever she was in a good mood. 

I guess he has said it before, she realised. He’d said it in a thousand ways. 

Soo slipped into the clothes she’d worn the day before and was about to start pinning her hair when she caught sight of the reflection in Jung’s mirror. For a second she didn’t recognise the person in front of her. The flushed cheeks and cascading hair; the rosy lips and flawless skin; it was the face of someone who was not just healthy, but glowing. Her lips were drawn upwards with an inverse form of gravity. When had she last looked this happy? Had she ever? She suddenly couldn’t be bothered with an elaborate hairstyle. She plucked a navy ribbon from Jung’s bedside and pulled her hair into a ponytail. 

It was hard to keep a bounce from her step as she headed towards the dining room. Min Jee was already waiting for her at the table, expression neutral as they greeted each other. Soo was immediately suspicious. 

“Did you sleep well?” Soo asked, somewhat hesitant to open the floodgates.

“No. I didn’t get to sleep for a long time,” Min Jee said, lifting her eyes from the table and fixing Soo with an intent stare. “Jung broke a vase, and the sound gave me a horrible fright. I thought there might be an intruder in his room.” 

Soo squirmed a little in her seat. “Oh?”

“And the wind was also very loud.” Min Jee continued, refusing to break eye contact. “It almost sounded like voices at times.” 

Soo ducked her head. “Really? I didn’t hear that.” 

Min Jee raised an eyebrow. “You must have been very soundly asleep, my lady. When I knocked at your door to see if you were safe, you didn’t even stir.” 

Soo pressed her lips together. “Mm. I slept extremely well.” 

The corner of Min Jee’s mouth twitched. Soo wasn’t imagining it. There was a definite twinkle in her eye. “I imagine I’d sleep well too if a strong wind was calling my name.” 

--------

Soo spent most of the morning bored out of her mind. She tried to distract herself with sketching and reading, but her attention span was disastrously short, and her brain seemed fixated on only one thing. One person, to be precise. 

She had already been back to Jung’s room several times, partly to check that he hadn’t returned early but also to reassure herself that her memories weren’t the product of some fever dream. Jung’s note was tucked in her pocket, but she had to restrain herself from pulling it out again. The paper was already becoming worn from the number of times she’d folded and unfolded it.  

On Jung’s desk she’d found a small notebook, with all the observations he’d jotted down about village life and the stories he’d gathered for her when she was sick. She’d resisted reading it at first, in case it was a diary, but after glancing at a few of the pages she convinced herself that it was more of an official record than a private journal, and so he probably wouldn’t mind.

The exception was the poem he’d written. The one about Eun-ha. As she stared at the words she realised she wanted a copy of her own, so she pulled out some parchment and transcribed the poem in her own delicate calligraphy. 

While she was waiting for the ink to dry, she pictured the shrine they’d visited the day before. Maybe the heavens listened after all. 

Soo couldn’t suppress the wild, giddy-making joy that bubbled up whenever she thought of Jung. This man whom she’d known for seven years, but had only really gotten to know recently. The way he looked at her. The way he said her name. And the trust. The feeling of safety. It made her bold; it made her feel like anything was possible again. 

Whatever higher powers had led them to this point - she suddenly wanted to give thanks. 

I should go back to the shrine. It was not a logical thought; she knew that much. But after so many painful years, it was hard to let go of the superstition that her joy would soon be crushed by misfortune. 

Soo dressed in her riding hanbok and snuck past Min Jee’s room. It didn’t take long to saddle Nae-Cha, but she hesitated at the stable entrance. 

I’ll just go there and back as quickly as possible. 

There was a break in the rain, but the sky was still smothered in dark clouds.

No one will be out in this weather, anyway. 

A mean wind was whipping through the courtyard. 

I’ll take my bow, just in case. 

--------

Nae-Cha was not impressed by the dripping trees or the muddy slope. Soo had been forced to dismount soon after entering the forest, because the path she’d previously taken with Jung was now littered with branches. Some areas had completely disappeared under a landslide of dirt. 

Soo guided Nae-Cha around each obstacle, but after walking for several kilometres through the dimly lit trees, she realised there weren’t any familiar landmarks. She wasn’t lost, per se, but she was no longer confident about how to get to the shrine. Or home, for that matter. 

“We need a better vantage point,” she told Nae-Cha. The horse tossed her head in agreement. 

Soo led them up a rise, aiming for the highest point she could see. It was tough going on the soft ground, her feet sinking deeply with each step and the cold earth sucking at her shoes. She was breathing heavily by the time they got to the top, but at least the workout had cleared her mind. 

She gazed around the hillside beneath them. The power of the storm was impressive to behold. Trees were standing at unnatural angles, debris littered the forest floor, and what used to be small rivulets were now overflowing streams. 

In the distance she could see a wooden structure. It had somehow survived the wind, though it looked small and flimsy from the height she was at. 

“Come on, Nae-Cha.” She started down the slope. “Where there’s a hut, there’s a path.” 

As they got further down the ridge, she could make out a clearing with some scattered signs of life. There was a fire pit and a wood pile, as well as some old pots and dishes. 

A burst of colour moving through the trees made Soo stop short. Nae-Cha snorted behind her, clearly unhappy that their progress had halted. 

Someone was walking towards the clearing. Squinting, Soo could make out a white and blue jacket under a long black cloak. The man’s hood was pulled up, obscuring his face in shadow, but that wasn’t the detail that made Soo uncomfortable. It was the clothes themselves. Even at a distance she could tell they were finely woven, and not at all in line with the shabby hut before them.  

He doesn't belong here. 

Soo pulled Nae-Cha behind a cluster of trees. “We don’t want to bump into any murders,” she whispered. She didn’t think Nae-Cha was particularly concerned, but her own heart was suddenly racing as she reached into one of the saddle bags to retrieve her bow. The ridge she was following led away from the clearing, and the trees were growing thickly in this area. If she continued down the hill she might be able to slip away unnoticed. 

She looked back towards the clearing. The man was entering the hut. 

“Let’s go,” she tugged at Nae Cha’s halter, suddenly eager to be gone. 

They were further down the ridge, almost near the flat, when she felt the hairs on her neck prickle. She spun around to check they weren’t being followed. 

The hut was still visible through the trees, though from a lower angle. The front door was hanging open, and the person she’d seen earlier was backing out. He was dragging something heavy. Soo narrowed her eyes. Her mouth fell open in shock. 

It was a body. 

The hooded figure bent down and inspected the body thoroughly, patting along the victim’s sides, rummaging through their clothes, and then stretching back to full height. 

Soo had watched a lot of crime dramas in her past life. She wouldn’t say she was obsessed, but she liked the problem solving aspect of those shows and had enjoyed stringing clues together until there was a clear explanation. 

The scene in front of her made no sense. The hooded figure was well dressed and moving calmly. The body - a man by the looks of things - was stiff; his skin the sallow grey colour of the long departed. 

Why would bandits target a place like this? It didn’t look like there were any valuables around. And in any case, the hooded figure didn’t fit the profile. An acquaintance, perhaps? 

As she stared, the figure pushed back his cloak to retrieve something from his pocket, and she saw the gleam of a long sword hanging at his side. Silver and tortoiseshell - she’d recognise it anywhere.   

Jung?

She took a step forward. Was he investigating another death? 

Who would kill this poor man in the middle of nowhere? 

Jung was still examining the body. He’d pulled out a notebook and was making notes. Soo gazed around the surrounding forest, thoroughly confused. “No murder without motive.” It was the tagline of her favourite show. 

There’s really nothing out here, she thought, until a small movement caught her eye. She squinted. It was like tracking the progress of smoke through the night sky. The shape was so camouflaged, so subtle, she felt sure she’d lose it if she blinked. It seemed to both fly and creep, hurtling towards Jung down the slope. And there, in its wake, another shape was trailing. A duplicate shadow, only a few metres behind, dressed entirely in black and clutching a long blade.

An ambush. 

After so many years in Goryeo, the sight was both terrifying and familiar. Of course, Soo’s weary mind whispered, it always comes back to this. 

It was hard to tell, in those dizzying seconds of slow-motion horror, whether her stillness was a product of calm or shock, but she knew to her core what was coming next. 

The men were running straight at Jung, swords raised.

Jung was facing the wrong way, his attention still fixed on the body. 

He won’t see them in time. 

It was too late to call out a warning. Even if Soo screamed, Jung would only look up - not behind. 

The men had nearly reached him, and for a moment she wanted to squeeze her eyes shut to block out the images to come.

The blood. The endless blood... I can’t take it!

Nae-Cha sensed the danger and whinnied sharply, breaking up Soo’s thoughts. Through a haze of panic Soo could hear Baek Ah’s words. 

“Eyes open, Soo-yah.”

She glanced down. Her hand was still wrapped around the bow. In a reflex born from countless hours of practice, she drew forth an arrow and notched it in place. Then, with a single grounding breath, she raised her arms and let the arrow fly. 

It flew in a perfect line, soaring straight across the clearing and thudding into the first man’s chest as easily as it had pierced straw targets. 

I hit him. For someone who had never even hit a bird, the realisation that she’d struck a person was horrifying, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it.   

What happened next was a blur of fabric and limbs. The first figure, stopped short by Soo’s arrow, let out a strangled cry as he toppled forward, face crunching into the dirt. Jung, hearing the cry, spun on his heels and drew his sword, raising it just in time to block the blade of the second man, who had closed the distance between them. 

One on one in a sword fight, Jung was unrivalled. He parried and swung with graceful precision, his movements measured, as though it were a dance. The abruptness of the attack and the shock he must have felt were barely noticeable in his reaction, and it wasn’t long before he had the upper hand. With a final swing Jung cut the stranger down, then cast around the clearing, looking for the source of the arrow. 

Soo’s eyes had flown back to the hill, where new shapes were passing through the trees.

There’s more! And they have horses!

“Jung!” Soo shouted. He spun around sharply, face suddenly pale with fear. She pointed up the hill. “Run!” 

Jung’s eyes locked on the distant riders, and he didn’t need telling twice. Ducking under branches and sidestepping logs, he sprinted down the hill towards her. 

Soo stuffed her bow in the saddle bag and pulled herself onto Nae-Cha’s back, arms shaking with adrenaline. 

The same hazards that had slowed her earlier progress were now hampering the riders on the hill. Even with bows, they can’t reach us yet. They’re too far off. 

“Soo-yah!” Jung shouted as he leapt past the final few obstacles. “Pass me the reins!” She held them out, and he pulled himself up in front of her. “Hold on to me tightly,” he said. “We’ll need to go fast. It will be harder to balance.” He sounded so calm and in control, as though it were simply another riding lesson. “Yah!” He shouted then, urging Nae-Cha forward. 

The horse could undoubtedly sense their fear. Nae-Cha’s ears flicked back and forth as they picked their way through the remaining trees, the ground too treacherous for any decent speed. Soo clutched Jung’s waist, trying to mimic his movements for greater balance, but it was hard to feel confident with so little visibility. She couldn’t see anyone over her shoulder, but she knew for certain they were still following. 

It was a trap. She thought of the reports Jung had received from the village. But why target him? 

When they reached open ground Nae-Cha broke into a run. The clouds were still thick above them. It couldn’t have been later than mid afternoon, but already the light was growing dim. The fields that had seemed so magical a few weeks before now felt dangerously exposed. 

We just need to get home, Soo thought. Then we can raise the alarm. 

She squeezed her arms tighter around Jung’s waist. 

They were nearing the river when the first arrow whistled by. Soo felt the wind of its tail feathers brush past her ponytail, missing her by inches. Jung turned back to check on her, horror plain across his face, then lifted his eyes, searching for the source. 

Another arrow flew past, burying itself in a tree up ahead of them. It was then that Jung pulled sharply on the reins, forcing Nae-Cha to break her stride and turn. 

But that’s the direction they’re coming from! Why would he -

Jung cried out as a third arrow bit into his leg. Soo felt her vision contract. 

There’s an arrow. In his thigh.  

Nae-Cha tossed her head and whinnied as Jung lurched forward, losing his grip on reins.

No-no-no-no-no-no-no. Panicked thoughts were filling Soo’s head. She tried to block them out. 

The arrow can be removed. There are doctors. 

But before she could convince herself further, another arrow thudded into Jung’s shoulder. 

No-no-no-no-no-no-no-no-no. 

A horrible groan escaped Jung’s lips and he started falling to one side. Soo pulled sharply at his waist to correct his balance. “No! Stay on! We’re so close!”   

“Soo-yah,” Jung said, and his voice no longer calm. “You’ll be faster without me.” There was a desperation to his tone. 

“Don’t say that! I need you.” Her vision was becoming blurry with tears. She blinked them away furiously. 

She reached past Jung to grab the reins, urging Nae-Cha forward. There was a copse of trees by the river. They could hide there for a while. Find help. 

She would get them there.

I can. 

I will.

It seemed like they were going to make it until, just a few metres short of their goal, a hand reached out and grabbed Jung’s cloak, pulling him off to one side. Nae-Cha felt the weight shift on her back, saw the shadow of the assailant and squealed; a piercing, desperate sound. The horse spun in a jagged circle, nearly throwing Soo to the ground. Jung’s foot was still caught in the stirrup, and he was dragged hopelessly through the dirt, like a puppet in a horror show. 

The man who had grabbed Jung was knocked backwards, dropping his sword somewhere among the weeds. He was a similar build to Jung, but with a chilling look in his eyes. He turned to Soo, a resigned expression on his face, and reached up to grab her. Soo kicked at him, a scream coming from deep inside her chest, her right hand fumbling at her belt. The man clawed at her leg, trying to find purchase. 

You. Won’t. Get me.  

Soo’s fingers curled around metal and without pausing, she pulled free Jung’s knife and plunged it into the man’s chest. There was an awful crunching sound as metal hit bone. The man gaped and stumbled backwards, staring at the knife as though he’d never contemplated being on the receiving end. He toppled to the ground with a gurgle. 

“Jung!” Soo cried, craning over the horse’s side to see his face. She tried to free his foot, pulling at the stirrup in the hopes of twisting it loose, but another arrow landed with a sickening thud, this time in Nae-Cha’s neck. 

There was a squeal and a scream, and suddenly Soo was on the ground. With her breath knocked clean from her chest, she lay there for a moment, stunned and wheezing, before the hopeless realisation hit her.

This is the end.  

I don’t want it to be the end. 

It took every ounce of willpower to pull herself up.

Nae-Cha, driven wild by pain and fear, had bolted towards the river and skidded down the bank. She was lying on her side, panting heavily, her eyes wide and glassy. The sight pierced Soo’s heart. 

My beautiful... What have they done to you? But she couldn’t stop and help. She needed to find Jung. 

Soo staggered down the muddy bank, reeds jabbing at her legs. The area around Nae-Cha was clear. Had Jung crawled free? The light was growing dimmer, as though the sun were setting hours early, and Soo squinted through the darkness.

The man who had grabbed her was lying motionless on his back, and she could see riders approaching on the horizon, but there was no sign of Jung. She was running out of time. 

“Jung!” Her cries were muffled by the rushing of the river. The rain had caused its waters to swell, and it surged at the bank in violent bursts. 

She could hear someone calling her name from far off, but she ignored it. She stumbled further down the bank, clutching at the long grass to stop herself from falling. 

“Soo!” The voice was getting louder. It was then that she spotted Jung. He was clinging to a  branch downstream, water churning around him as he struggled to keep his head from going under. 

“Soo!” The voice had almost reached her now. She looked up. 

Her heart dropped. 

It was So. 

He was standing at the top of the bank, staring down at her with undisguised panic. His arm was stretched out towards her, as though he could pluck her from the danger in an instant, if only she would give him her hand. 

He’s here. He actually came. A year ago Soo would have been thrilled. Back then it was all she had dreamed of; but now the scene was all wrong. He wasn’t the one she wanted to see there, standing safe on high ground. 

The terror in So’s eyes; it was the look of someone who was about to lose the only thing they’d ever held dear, and Soo could recognise it, because it was everything she was feeling in that moment. 

She turned back to Jung. His grip was slipping on the branch, head falling dangerously low in the water, and the sky was almost black now. In a few seconds she would lose sight of him completely. 

“All we have is what we choose.”

As she stepped towards the water, she threw a final glance over her shoulder. 

The danger from the palace had found them, but she knew it wasn’t So’s fault.   

I’m sorry, she thought, hoping So could read the message in her eyes. 

So’s expression twisted, a wordless cry forming on his lips. 

Soo couldn’t pause to hear what he might say. She plunged into the river, kicking out in the direction of the branch. The current was fierce; the water murky and littered with debris. She knew it was hopeless almost immediately, but it was too late to turn back. 

Jung had lost his grip and was sinking beneath the waterline. Soo kicked with all her strength, the heavy fabric of her clothes dragging her down, but the current carried her closer until she’d finally reached him. 

She grabbed Jung’s arm as his head slipped beneath the surface, grasping at the branch he’d been holding to keep them in place. He was too heavy. She was swallowing too much water. 

If I can just hold him a while longer, someone will rescue us. 

There was a sickening crack as the low-hanging branch broke free from the tree. 

Soo’s head was suddenly under. 

They were both under. 

The world was black. 

“Why did you still like me after all those years?” Soo had asked Jung the night before. 

“I couldn’t help it. It didn’t matter where I went… You were the only one I saw.” 

Soo’s hand tightened around the fabric of Jung’s sleeve, and as the water pressed down, she was glad she could spend a few more moments by his side. 

“Just don’t go anywhere.” He’d told her from the other side of the pillow. “I’ve grown helplessly dependent.” Then he’d kissed her nose, beaming at her through thick lashes. 

Perhaps it didn’t matter, in the end, how fleeting happiness could be. She’d do it all again, just to see that smile. 

I choose him, she thought. 

And then, like a candle flickering out, there were no thoughts left at all.

Chapter Text

“Let’s pay our respects and get out of here quickly - this place gives me the creeps.”

“When did you last visit?”

“Two months ago? I lose track.”

There were voices nearby, and the soft sound of footsteps, but the world was still black.  

“I guess not much has changed since then.”

There was a pause. “She looks different.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a bit of colour in her cheeks.”

Soo’s mind felt sluggish, but she was pretty sure she recognised those voices.

“Stop messing around.” 

Baek Ah?

“I’m serious! She looks kind of pretty, even. Like a real life Sleeping Beauty. Do you think I should give her a kiss and see if she wakes up?”

The second speaker was harder to place. 

“Don’t you think she’s been through enough? Now get away from there before I call the guards and tell them there’s a pervert on the loose.” Baek Ah’s tone was teasing but firm.  

“He’s kind of lucky, in a way. He would have been called up for military service by now.”

“I’m not sure this is preferable.”

Soo’s limbs were heavy, as though they’d fallen asleep. 

“Do you think they’ll make him do it when he wakes up?”

There was a long pause.

“Probably not.”

Soo tried to open her eyes, but her muscles didn’t respond. 

Another silence followed. It was broken by the mystery speaker. “Do you think he did it on purpose?”

“Aish, are you insane?” Baek Ah sounded shocked. 

“Well, he was in a bad place… He might have gone there hoping to - you know - disappear.”

“He’s not like that.”

“You didn’t see him on that last day...” 

She knew that voice, she was certain. 

Eun?

But it couldn’t be Eun, because she’d seen him die.

Maybe I’m dead, too? 

But that doesn’t make sense. Baek Ah’s alive. I saw him yesterday. 

The puzzle was driving her crazy. She tried to stretch out her hand, but only one finger responded. 

“WA! Did you see that?!” 

He sounds so much like Eun. 

“What?”

“She just moved!”

Soo felt tears pooling behind her eyes. Where am I? Why can’t I sit up?

Footsteps drew nearer. 

“Can you hear us?” The mystery speaker was right by her head now. 

Soo tried to speak. Her throat was dry, but she managed to get out his name. 

“Eun?” As she spoke her eyes cracked open, and a harsh white light filled her vision. She immediately squeezed them shut again.  

“Eomeona! Did she just say my name? How does she know my name?!” 

“Stay here - I’ll get a doctor!” Baek Ah’s shoes slapped the ground as he ran to the door. 

Soo felt a gentle touch on her hand. 

“Can you open your eyes?” 

She tried again. The light was painfully bright. 

Her discomfort was too great for this to be an afterlife. 

Her vision gradually focussed, and she could make out the blurry shape of a young man standing by her bed. His hair was short, his face clean-shaven, and he was wearing an oversized yellow hoodie. 

No. 

If there was an item of clothing she had never stopped missing in Goryeo, it was the hoodie, but that didn’t mean she was happy to see it. The sight of it gave her the sensation of falling through the air. 

Maybe I’m hallucinating. 

But another part of her brain was already filling in the gaps. 

As the figure leaned forward his face came into focus, and the tears that had been collecting in Soo’s eyes suddenly broke loose. 

Eun! It’s really you.

Other people were appearing now; men and women dressed in white - a whole team of doctors, by the looks of it. She glanced to her side and locked eyes with Baek Ah. 

Except it wasn’t Baek Ah, was it? Where was his beautiful long hair? Why was he wearing those clothes? 

“Can you hear me?” A doctor’s voice snapped her back to the present. She blinked, feeling dazed. 

“Sit. Up.” She croaked. 

A nurse hurried over to lift the bed. Soo was propped forward with a pillow, her whole body feeling shaky with the effort of being upright. The nurse offered her a cup of water, a plastic straw angled towards Soo’s lips. She sipped slowly, cringing as the cold liquid slid down her throat.  

Everyone was staring at her with varying degrees of intensity - some excited, some reserved. The nurses were beaming. Eun looked like he’d seen a ghost. Baek Ah’s face was etched with concern.  

But there was one face she couldn’t see - the one she cared about most. 

“Jung?” Her voice was clearer now. 

She saw Baek Ah exchange a glance with Eun, a grim expression settling over his features. 

“Where’s Jung?” She asked again, trying to keep the panic from her voice. 

Baek Ah’s eyes slid to the side of the room, where another bed was positioned near the window. 

Soo’s heart monitor beeped in alarm and she felt the walls of the room contract. 

“Her pulse is elevated,” someone pointed out. 

It felt like there were sandbags on Soo’s chest as she struggled to sit forward, craning to see who was lying in the other bed. 

But she already knew the answer. 

“Jung!” She called out, her voice breaking as she cried. He was lying pale and motionless, a host of tubes and cables connected to his body. 

“She’s going into shock,” one of the younger doctors said, moving forward to grab her arm. 

“Get a sedative,” the senior doctor ordered. 

Soo no longer cared that the clothes were all wrong and there was plastic and technology that eliminated any chance she was still in Goryeo; as long as Jung was safe she would survive. 

But she couldn’t stand to see him lying there like that. 

“Jung!” She screamed, her hope and terror breaking free with crushing force. The sound tore through the room, making half the medical team flinch. Baek Ah took a few steps back, tears forming in his eyes. 

Get up! She wanted to yell. I did not just stab a man and dive into a river for you to look like this! 

A nurse was moving towards her with a needle. 

I need you, she thought. You said you’d always be there for me, and I need you right now. 

It was only a small movement, but Soo couldn’t miss it with her eyes fixed squarely on his face. 

At 10:43am, roughly seven minutes after Soo had gained consciousness, the man in the bed next to her opened his eyes. 

Chapter Text

“Can you tell me your name?” The doctor was moving a light from left to right, studying Soo’s reaction. 

He’s alive! She’d been struggling to process everything that was happening around her, but she held onto that one thought. It was keeping her sane. 

On a scale of one to ten, one being routine patient care and ten being a havoc-wreaking disruption of presidential-plane-crash proportions, Jung’s return to consciousness must have ranked close to double digits.  

In the half hour since he’d opened his eyes, it felt like every nurse and doctor in the hospital had either squeezed into their room or found space to watch the unfolding drama from the corridor outside. 

Is he famous? Soo wondered, as she saw grown women bursting into tears and hugging each other. Countless strangers were beaming at them, as though they’d been praying for this moment. She knew she wasn’t the cause of their smiles. Even in her sluggish mental state she could tell something bigger was at play, but she supposed that a perk of lying close to the sun was some incidental warmth. 

It wasn’t until a polished, balding man in a pinstripe suit marched into the room and pulled the attending physician aside, hissing angrily and waving his hands at the growing crowd, that order had been restored.   

The dispersing spectators dragged their feet and threw reluctant looks over their shoulders as they returned to their stations. Even Baek Ah and Eun had been thrown out; told to wait down the hall until the medical team had run some preliminary tests.      

No one had bothered explaining anything to Soo, but she was slowly piecing things together. 

Does he remember me? She hadn’t heard Jung speak yet. 

They’d been wheeled down the hall to separate examination rooms, and though it was a little sad to admit it, she could already feel the distance between them tugging at her attention like a caught thread. 

The doctor cleared his throat, prompting Soo to refocus. The artificial brightness of the room was starting to give her a headache. 

“What’s the date today?” She asked.

“December 12th, 2016.” The man in front of her had a round face and thick-rimmed glasses, giving him the appearance of a kindly owl. 

“Right.” At least it’s the same year. That somehow felt better - less overwhelming; though the last thing she could remember from this life had been back in May. “I’m Go Ha Jin,” she said, pointing to herself. The name felt foreign on her lips.  

The doctor nodded happily, continuing down his list. “How old are you?”

“25. No, wait... I guess now I’m 26.” Her birthday was in September. 

“What’s your address?” 

She pictured Jung’s house in Gaegyeong. The leaves had been starting to turn gold. She had planned to go mushroom hunting with Min Jee that week. 

But this was Seoul, not Gaegyeong. Where’s my home now? She’d been living with her boyfriend back in May. 

“I…” Ha Jin hesitated. “It used to be in Seocho-gu, but I’m not sure that’s still current.” She gave him her mother’s address instead.  

The doctor looked up from his notes, unable to hide his curiosity. “What’s the last thing you remember?” 

Ha Jin closed her eyes as the memories rushed forward. She could hear Nae-Cha’s pained squeals; see the blood pooling on Jung’s thigh. There was cool metal and crunching bone; the icy cold of the river as it closed around her head. So was there, too, his eyes filled with sorrow. 

She clutched a hand to her chest. 

“Deep breaths, Soo-yah.” Jung’s voice came back to her. She tried to focus on the room around her. It smelled of disinfectant, but somewhere beneath the wafts of cleaning spray there was a faint scent of lilies. 

“I jumped into the water,” she said. “I was trying to save someone.” 

“A little girl,” the doctor nodded, a sympathetic smile breaking across his face. “You’ll be pleased to know she’s alright. And I bet she’ll be happy to see you!” 

“Why?” Ha-jin asked. That day was a blur. She recalled how useless she’d felt, struggling to get through the water before her clothes had started pulling her down. “I wasn’t any help.”

“You alerted everyone! She would have drowned without you!” The doctor paused, his expression turning serious. “It was a terrible accident. I’m sure that girl carries a lot of guilt. But now that you and Lee Jung are awake - the story has a happy ending!”

Lee Jung?

“That man - was he hurt in the same accident?” 

The doctor nodded solemnly. “He jumped in to save you, but you both went under.”

Soo couldn’t remember anyone else in the water. 

“You were unconscious by the time they pulled you out; Mr Lee, too. But there were no signs of trauma. Nothing unusual in the MRI scans. We assumed you’d wake up in a matter of hours.”

“Who is he?” Does he recognise me?

“Mr Lee? Oh, I thought you would have known… But I guess you weren’t there for headlines. It was all over the news for months.” The doctor shook his head. “He’s an actor. I guess the first one in history to make a comeback while unconscious.” 

An actor? The idea was so ludicrous, Ha Jin wanted to laugh. Jung always wore his heart on his sleeve. How could he be an actor? 

The thought that followed was less humorous. 

He’s not my Jung. 

“But why did he try and save me?”

The doctor shrugged. “You should ask him.” He paused, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “You know, my daughter’s a massive fan, and she asks me almost every day if there’s been a development. She’ll be thrilled when she hears the news!” 

“What about those other men in the room? The visitors - who were they?” 

The doctor frowned. “I didn’t see them. What did they look like?”

“They were young - maybe mid 20s - and quite tall.” And both incredibly handsome . How could she describe Eun and Baek Ah without embarrassing herself? “One was wearing a yellow hoodie. I think he was called Eun? They looked related.” 

“Oh! The brothers? They visit now and then.” He seemed lost in thought for a moment. “That family is really something. Singers, designers, models, actors… You know, we’ve had triple the number of nursing applicants since May. No one admits it in their interview, of course, but I suspect those visitors play a large role.” The doctor nodded towards the door. “For most of our team, this is the most exciting day of the month. Well, I mean, it would have been until you two woke up. Now I’d say it’s the most exciting day of the year! Everyone’s going to want to talk to you.” He paused, continuing in a lower voice, “But I’d be careful what you say. The Lees are influential, and the walls have ears.”  

Ha Jin’s headache was getting worse, and that anxious feeling was back; the panic of intermingled timelines and memories. She was back in the modern-day, but the parallels were uncanny. There were too many similarities; too many differences. 

What if it was all in my head? What if they never existed and I dreamed the whole thing? 

She dismissed the idea as soon as it arrived. She had a good imagination, but there were still limitations to what her brain could conjure out of thin air. The feeling of shooting an arrow; the taste of home-brewed rice wine; the letters she’d written in Chinese characters - she’d never experienced any of those things before Goryeo. 

It was real. It had to be.

-- Baek Ah --

“The miracle of Asan.” That’s what headlines were calling it. No more than an hour had gone by since Jung had regained consciousness, but Baek Ah’s phone was already blowing up.

JB: Were you there when it happened? Did you see?! 

Hyun-woo: He’s awake? Ahhhhh! Best news ever!

Yo: The prodigal son returns. Don’t let them interview you.

Baek Ah sighed and switched his phone to silent. “Queen Woo’s press team is going to implode at this rate.” 

“You heard her, right? She said my name!” Eun was staring at the door to Jung and Ha Jin’s room with wide eyes. He’d been in a state of shock, repeating the same question for almost an hour after the patients had been whisked away for tests. 

Baek Ah shook his head. “She could have been saying anything. It was probably just a garbled sound.” He’d been saying this to Eun over and over, but in truth, he hardly believed his own words.

There had been a moment, when Ha Jin had first locked eyes with Baek Ah, that it felt like he was greeting an old friend. 

She knows me. The feeling had been so instinctual; so certain, like knowing how many steps he needed to move around his bedroom in the dark. 

Her gaze had held a thousand questions, but beneath them all burned a deep and sincere excitement. “It’s you!” Her eyes seemed to cry in relief.  

It had been the same when she looked at Eun. There was a puzzling sadness to her expression, but there was also joy, as though she had just crossed paths with her favourite people in the world. 

But that was nothing compared to the way she’d looked at Jung.

“Are you sure Jung didn’t know her?”

Eun shook his head. “Father looked into that when it first happened. She’s a complete stranger.” 

“It just doesn’t make sense…” The sound of Ha Jin’s screams were seared into his mind.

“I know! Who cries like that over some random? And how did she even know his name?”

“Aish, you and your obsession with names!” Baek Ah’s patience was wearing thin. “Maybe she overheard us.” 

“But we didn’t mention his name! I’m sure of it!”

“Well, maybe she heard it on an earlier visit.”

The blood drained from Eun’s face. “Really? You think she heard everything?”

“Why? Are you worried?” Baek Ah raised an eyebrow. “Have you been bad-mouthing Jung?”

A blush spread across Eun’s cheeks. “Of course not! But, you know…” Eun mumbled, “I mentioned that stuff about giving her a kiss.” 

Baek Ah rolled his eyes. “Maybe if you weren’t such a creep, you wouldn’t have so much to feel guilty about.” 

“Hey, that’s not fair! No one was expecting them to wake up! It’s been seven months! Do you know how many times I’ve said his name in that time? I even tried singing! And all his ex girlfriends came by. Even that one that looks like she might murder someone. What’s her name again?”

“Yoo-ri?”

“Yes! That one!”

“How could you forget? She’s getting pretty famous.” 

Eun was barely listening. “Man she’s hot.. But she’s got crazy eyes.”

“Didn’t I just lecture you on objectifying women?” 

“Whatever. You can talk. Or are you just bitter because it’s been a dry year?” 

The person Baek Ah had been desperately trying to forget rose to mind. He pressed his lips together. 

“Ah, I’m sorry.” Eun suddenly looked ashamed. “That was thoughtless of me. The shock has fried my brain.” 

“Forget about it,” Baek Ah said, turning towards the elevators. 

“You’re going?” 

He jammed a finger against the down button. “It’ll be hours before Jung’s up to talking.” 

“But what about her?” 

Baek Ah paused. “What about her?” 

“Don’t you want to know what she remembers?”

Baek Ah could still picture the terror in Ha Jin’s eyes as she’d reached for Jung. And that knowing look she’d given them... Some deeper sense was telling him that even if he tried to stay away, they’d end up crossing paths again. 

He held up his phone. 34 unread messages, 2 missed calls. “I have a feeling we’ll all know soon enough.”

-– Ha Jin –-

After hours of tests and interviews, Ha Jin was finally wheeled back to her room, only to find with a sinking heart that there was only one bed. 

“Where’s Jung?” She’d asked a pretty, red-haired nurse.

The woman stammered awkwardly about preserving privacy and the need for extra security until a familiar voice interrupted. 

“The Lee family is on guard. They don’t want the media blowing this out of proportion.”

Ha Jin’s head whipped towards the door. 

Min Jee? 

The woman standing in the doorway looked 10 years younger than Soo’s midwife, with a sleek black bob and pretty silver studs. Still, there was something in the cadence of her voice and the way she frowned that was giving Ha Jin flashbacks. 

“Who are you?” Ha Jin asked. She quickly realised how rude that sounded, and tried to make amends. “I mean, you remind me of an old friend.” 

“I should hope so. If you go just by visiting hours - I’m your best friend,” the woman said, striding forward and picking up Ha Jin’s chart. 

“Hm?” Ha Jin blinked. 

“Kim Ju has been caring for you and Mr Lee since the accident,” the red-haired woman explained. “She’s been the lead nurse in your treatment.” 

The woman, Kim Ju, beamed at Ha Jin. “It’s so good to finally hear your voice! It gets pretty boring having one-sided conversations.”

Ha Jin bit back a smile. If she was anything like Min Jee, then one-sided conversations definitely weren’t burdensome. 

“Do let me know if there’s anything I can help with to make your recovery easier. We’re all hoping you’ll be back on your feet in no time!” Kim Ju ran a hand over the blanket on Ha Jin’s bed, tucking in the corners. 

Ha Jin thought of all the things she’d missed in Goryeo - magazines, television, ramen, cars, light switches, air conditioning, fridges - the list felt endless, but there were three things at the top that she was dying to get back to. 

“Can I have a shower?”

“Sorry,” Kim Ju said, “we have to wait until your test results come back, then the doctor will let you know.”

“What about coffee?”

“Same deal, I’m afraid.” 

Ha Jin sighed. “I’d kill for a cell phone… I feel so behind.”

Kim Ju smiled, thrusting a hand into her pocket and pulling out a mobile. “That, at least, I can help with.” She unlocked the screen and held it out. “You should read the article on SeoulToday - they’ve nailed all the background details.” 

Ha Jin looked up at Kim Ju, her forehead wrinkled. 

“Oh honey, I’m sure you’re more curious than anyone. What happened that day - it’s the stuff of legends! And I’m not saying that to be dramatic. Go on - read it! You’ll see what I mean.”

--------

The Mystery of Namiseom - 15th August 2016

The sky was a vivid blue on May 15th 2016, and umbraphiles had high expectations that the eclipse would be a once-in-a-lifetime event. Tourists at Namiseom Island were enjoying the fair weather and lush greenery when the shocking accident took place; an incident that caused media fans throughout the nation to question their prejudices and reflect inwards on their own actions.

The details of how events unfolded have been pieced together from eyewitness accounts. “I was watching the sky,” Choe Mi Young, a visitor to the park, explained. “It wasn’t until I heard cries that I looked over.” 

Woo Hee, a six-year-old child visiting from Busan with her family, had fallen into the lake and was fighting to stay afloat.

Go Ha Jin, a 25 year old make-up artist from Seoul, saw the little girl’s plight and bravely jumped into the water to save her.

It is at this point that accounts begin to differ, with some saying Miss Go screamed for help upon reaching Woo Hee, and others claiming that she started going under before then. One thing everyone agrees on, however, is that Miss Go’s selfless actions likely saved Woo Hee’s life.

“We were all watching the eclipse,” Woo Hee’s uncle admitted in an interview shortly after the event. “We thought Woo Hee was right behind us. Then suddenly people were shouting and pointing to the lake. It was chaos!”

Fate was unkind to Miss Go that day. Wearing thick jeans and a long coat, Miss Go was unprepared for the water rescue, and experts speculate that the frigid temperature of the lake probably sent her into shock.

“She was clearly struggling,” one witness explained. “Her head kept going under. That’s why we were panicking. They [Woo Hee’s family] were trying to save the girl, but she was completely alone.”

One visitor noticed Miss Go’s struggles, however, and wasted no time in trying to save her.

Lee Jung, an actor that rose to fame through his roles in various blockbusters such as Blood Moon Rising and Ghosts of War, was seen diving into the water seconds before Miss Go disappeared beneath the surface. 

“I couldn’t believe my eyes!” Park Ji-eun, a long-time fan of Lee Jung, told reporters. “I didn’t even know he was there [at Nami Island], then all of a sudden he was swimming towards her. I thought for a second they were filming a movie!”

But the unfolding action took a tragic turn. Upon reaching Miss Go, Lee Jung dove underwater to grab hold of her, but failed to resurface.

“We were waiting for any sign of them,” Miss Park recounts, “but the whole sky went dark and we couldn’t even see the ground in front of us - no one was prepared.”

As the seconds ticked by it was clear that something was wrong.

A group of rescuers, who rushed to the scene on a boat, eventually managed to pull Miss Go and Mr Lee from the water, but by that point the pair was unresponsive.

They were rushed to Asan Medical Center, where doctors fought to revive them, but with limited success. According to sources, the patients were stabilised but have both been in a coma since that fateful day.

In a statement released by the Lee family, Lee Yoo said she was thankful to the people who rushed forward to save her son, but was heartbroken by the outcome. “My Jung-ah was a brave, kind soul,” she told reporters. “He didn’t deserve any of this.” 

The news of Lee Jung’s ill-fated heroism shocked the nation, but perhaps more shocking were the revelations that came out in the weeks following his accident.

Lee Jung, once a red-carpet favourite, suffered a massive blow to his reputation at the start of the year after rumours of workplace harassment surfaced online. The rumours, which have since been proven false and were officially recanted earlier this month, forced the rising star to take a step back from his career.

“We were worried about his mental state,” an insider to the Lee family commented. “He couldn’t go anywhere without getting recognised, and the criticism he faced - it took a toll.”

The original reporter of the alleged harassment withdrew her accusations in the wake of the Namiseom tragedy. At a preliminary defamation hearing initiated by the Lee family earlier this month, the accuser admitted, ‘I was in a bad place. I didn’t mean to cause him such pain.”  

Her repentance has done little to ease the frustration of Lee Jung’s close friends and family.

“Why was he at the lake that day?” One acquaintance wants to know. “How could a man that young and fit nearly drown?”

There are still many mysteries surrounding that day at Namiseom, and only one silver lining among the clouds of tragedy: the little girl, Woo Hee, celebrated her 7th birthday this week. She told reporters her birthday wish was for Miss Go and Mr Lee to wake up.

“That lady was an angel.” Woo Hee said. “She saved me. I don’t want her to be sick anymore.”

--------

The Miracle of Asan - 12th December 2016

At 10:42 am today, an event described by healthcare professionals as “a miracle” unfolded in Ward E of Asan Medical Center.

Lee Jung and Go Ha Jin, the victims of a tragic near-death accident at Namiseom that shocked the nation in May, both emerged from comas within 10 minutes of one another.

Mr Lee, a popular action star whose meteoric rise to fame pushed him into the nation’s spotlight, was the target of intense media scrutiny and public backlash when harassment rumours surfaced in March. Since then the allegations have been withdrawn, with the original accuser admitting she fabricated the account, and fans have once again flocked to support Mr Lee. 

“He gets so much fan mail,” one of the nurses in charge of Lee Jung’s care admitted. “Everyone was rooting for him to get better.” 

However, after seven months of intensive care and no sign of Lee Jung or Go Ha Jin regaining consciousness, supporters were beginning to lose hope. 

“You take it a day at a time,” nurse Kim Ju commented. “Recovery times are hard to estimate. Of course, no one could have predicted a miracle like this!”

Go Ha Jin was apparently the first to regain consciousness. “It was another uneventful day,” one source told reporters, “then suddenly she was talking and trying to sit up!” 

The chances of coma patients making a full recovery decreases over time. “Two patients waking up like that within minutes of each other is unprecedented,” one of the doctors on duty commented. “In all my years as a medical professional, I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

One witness described the moment Mr Lee opened his eyes, likening it to a fairy tale. “It was like he was waiting for her. She yelled his name - we all heard it - and that’s when he woke up! I still can’t believe it.”

“This is the best news we could have received,” a representative of the Lee family said earlier in a statement. “We’re thankful for the dedicated care Lee Jung and Miss Go received at Asan, and we’re all wishing them a speedy recovery!” 

A happy ending is well-deserved for the pair, who both risked their lives in a heroic attempt to save another. 

Chapter Text

-- Ha Jin --

“Miss Go, can I have a word?” 

Ha Jin turned, pulling herself free from the flow of people leaving the room, and walked to the desk at the front.

“Sir?”

“I’ve had an unusual request. It’s from one of our donors. His family is hosting a charity event soon, and the department has agreed to loan some artefacts for display. He’s requested that we send someone along to explain the significance of the objects. My first thought was you.” 

“Really? But I’ve only been here a few months and -”

“The artefacts are from Goryeo. No one understands that time period better than you.” 

Ha Jin stared at the professor, trying to stop a blush from creeping along her cheeks. She’d been working hard to blend in, but the faculty seemed intent on singling her out.

“Don’t look so cornered. It’s a ball - not clean-up duty! It would only be one evening,” Professor Yoon continued. “Think of it as a great way to network. You want to work in this field after you graduate, right? Well these are the sorts of opportunities you need to grab! Most students would kill to go to IG.” 

“IG?” Ha Jin frowned. She’d never heard of it before. 

“The Imperial Gala. That’s its official name.”

“When is it?”

“In two weeks, on the 7th. I’m sorry for the late notice, but the department was only just notified… I hope that gives you enough time to prepare.”

“Do I need to make a presentation?” 

“No,  no - but you know what these events are like… It’s a formal dress-code. Quite fancy. But I’m sure you’ll be able to find something!” Professor Yoon finished packing away his lecture notes, lifting his satchel over one shoulder. “I’ll email you the details.” He paused, giving her an encouraging smile. “You’ll do great!” 

----

“What did Professor Yoon talk to you about?” A small, bright-eyed girl grabbed Ha Jin as she rounded the corner of the hallway. 

What’s her name again? Seori? Ha Jin had seen her in lectures, but had never tried talking to her. She was waiting with another classmate, a serious-looking girl called Kyunghee.

Ha Jin shook her head, still processing the conversation. “He wants me to represent the department at an upcoming event.”

“Which one?” Seori was still clinging to her arm. Ha Jin wasn’t sure whether to feel flattered or mildly threatened. 

“The Imperial Gala - have you heard of it?”

“The Imperial Gala ? No way! You’re joking, right? You’re not actually talking about IG? Like, the IG?” Seori’s voice had risen to a shrill pitch, and she was blinking rapidly.

Has she got something in her eye? Ha Jin wondered. “I don’t really know what IG is… But yes - that one.” 

Ha Jin glanced at Kyunghee and was surprised to find her wearing a similar expression, as though any second the floor might dissolve into cotton candy and the walls explode with butterflies. 

“Wow,” Kyunghee murmured. “She doesn’t even know what IG is and she still got invited? Some people have all the luck…” 

With that comment, Seori seemed to emerge from the pit of shock she’d fallen into. She pulled herself up to full height (which couldn’t have been more than 152cm), and rounded on Kyunghee. “Luck? As if! Ha Jin is the department’s golden child! Did you not hear the story of her admission?”

Kyunghee shook her head. Ha Jin tried to tug her sleeve free of Seori’s grip, but the persistent pixie stepped closer and threw an arm around her shoulder. 

“Ha Jin’s famous around here! She wrote her entire application in Hanja - didn’t you?” Seori turned to her with a smile and Ha Jin felt herself nodding, still not sure whether it was an ambush or an opening. “She even submitted a whole essay in Classical Chinese! I know because the professors won’t stop gushing about it. Every time I walk past Professor Yoon’s office, I hear him telling someone new. It won you a scholarship, didn’t it?” Seori was still studying her.

Kyunghee scoffed. “But aren’t you the same Go Ha Jin that Lee Jung saved from drowning? It can’t be a coincidence! The Lees are all over IG.” 

At the mention of that name Ha Jin’s stomach dropped. Seori, noticing Ha Jin’s reaction, seemed to make up her mind about something. “Hey, if anyone from our class deserves to go - it’s Ha Jin.” She squeezed Ha Jin’s shoulder. “But that’s not the issue right now! The question is - what on earth will you wear?” 

“Is it really a big deal?” Ha Jin didn’t own many formal clothes. 

“Omo… How is it that you know everything about Goryeo and nothing about this?” Seori dropped her arm from Ha Jin’s shoulder. “I have dance practice now - but walk with me. I’ll fill you in.” 

Ha Jin followed Seori across campus, listening to her rave about previous IG events. Everything from the star-studded guest list to the insanely expensive outfits sounded terrible to Ha Jin, but worst of all was the mention of the Lees. They were, apparently, an IG staple. Ha Jin suddenly wished she’d done more research before accepting the Professor’s request. 

Maybe it’s not too late. Maybe he’ll let me bow out… Because she couldn’t imagine anything worse than being in a room with that family, let alone risk seeing Jung. 

She hadn’t made contact since that last day at the hospital. 

He’s not my Jung. My Jung is gone. It was something she had to remind herself once or twice a day, though at the start it was more than that. Physical therapy had been gruelling, but it was nothing compared to the exercise of cutting ties with the Lees. 

Jung. Eun. Baek Ah. They were so similar to their namesakes, but they weren’t the same. 

Ha Jin shook her head, realising she’d zoned out from the conversation. Seori thankfully hadn’t noticed. 

“- and the performances! One year it was PSY, another year EXO! Sometimes they have interactive art installations - or ballet dancers. You really can’t predict it! Well, not usually… This year we’ve had some pretty big hints. They already announced the theme - ‘The Living Past’ - and we know they’ll be displaying historical objects. And my teacher - she totally slipped up and said she was doing a show that night, so my guess is she’s been invited too.”

Ha Jin was reeling from the flood of information. “Wait - your dance teacher? Why?”

“Because of the theme! She’s got a background in traditional dance. It totally makes sense.” 

They were walking towards a large, glass-covered building. It stood out from the other buildings like a glittering gem, its design giving Ha Jin a wonderful sense of light and space. “Is this the Performing Arts block?” 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The newest building on campus! It makes me wish I was majoring in dance - then I could spend all day here.”

“What are you majoring in?” 

“Literature. But I never asked you, eonni - ” she paused. “Can I call you that? You’re a few years older than me. I know from the news.” Seori blushed. “Sorry, I’m sure you don’t like to talk about it.”

Ha Jin waved a hand through the air, as if to brush away the awkwardness. “Sure, you can call me eonni.” 

Seori beamed. “Okay, great! Then if you don’t mind me asking - why did you decide to start studying? Weren’t you already working before?”

Ha Jin twisted a ring around her finger. She thought back to those first few weeks after the hospital, lying on the floor of her mother’s living room, scrolling endlessly through internet archives. She couldn’t tell Seori how obsessed she’d been - how obsessed she still was - with finding information on King Taejo’s family. At the start she could only find references to So, but the deeper she dug, the more a picture started to emerge about the lives of the other princes. So had been a strong leader, Wang Wook had lived a quiet life and died at 52. Baek Ah, her dear friend, had continued to paint and write until the end of his days. There were, however, no clues on the fate of Jung. It was as though he’d been wiped from the history books. The only mention she could find of him was in a list of royal children. He was named as a son of King Taejo, but nothing more was mentioned about his fate. 

Ha Jin’s obsession had led her to some dark places. For a while she’d barely slept, hardly ate, and even refused to go to physio. Her mother had eventually dragged her back to the hospital for a psych evaluation. 

“Do you ever have thoughts of harming yourself, Miss Go?” 

“No.”

“Do you feel some days that life is hopeless? That there’s nothing to look forward to?”

“No.” 

“Do you sometimes feel lost?”

“No.” 

Ha Jin knew exactly where she was, and where she wanted to go. She had a very clear goal. She’d find out exactly what happened to Jung and Soo, and if by some fluke they’d survived that night - she’d find a way to go back. 

The only problem was, hardly anyone wanted to write about Classical Chinese texts from the 8th century. The online resources were few and far between. At one point Ha Jin had stumbled upon a thesis, written by Professor Yoon, analysing poems from the Goryeo era, and she’d realised that the key to achieving her goal was to get access to primary sources. If she could just get into a room with some Goryeo-era documents, she was sure she’d be able to find a clue that historians had overlooked. After all, she had insights no one else had. If anyone could spot a veiled reference to Jung, it was her. 

“There’s a mystery I want to solve,” Ha Jin told Seori. 

“Oooh! What is it?” 

“King Taejo had a 14th son, but I can’t find out what happened to him.”

“Okay… But why come to university for that? Couldn’t you just ask one of the professors?”

Ha Jin shook her head. “No one knows. I need access to the archives.” 

“You think our university has that sort of information on file?”

“I don’t know… But SNU has access to the largest archives in Korea. If the documents aren’t here, they either don't exist or they never made it out of the North - which I guess is the same result.” 

They came to a stop in front of a set of glass doors, leading to a studio. Seori adjusted her backpack on her shoulder. “What made you interested in that era to begin with? It’s kind of random.”

Ha Jin shrugged. “Why is anyone interested in anything?” 

Seori grinned. “Good question! Like why am I so obsessed with IG?” She sighed. “One day I’ll get an invite, but until then I’ll just have to live vicariously through you. Do you want to come in and meet my teacher?” 

Ha Jin shook her head. “I’m going home to dig through my wardrobe. Maybe there’s a dress in there I’ve forgotten about.”

Seori flinched. “That doesn’t sound promising. I can assure you, if you have to dig for it, it’s not going to be up to scratch.”

“Who cares? No one will be looking at me in the corner, anyway.”

Seori tutted. “Keep me updated on your progress.” 

Ha Jin backtracked along the corridor, glancing through the large glass windows that lined each side and catching glimpses of performances. As she neared the end of the hall, she noticed a man standing with his back to the wall, watching a closed door closely from the corner of his eye. He was dressed entirely in black, with a face mask and a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. Something about his posture made Ha Jin suspicious. As the door opened and a group of dancers burst out, the man craned his head to look inside. 

“Hey!” She called out. “What are you doing? That’s a women’s changing room.”

The man jolted and spun towards her. Ha Jin saw a look of confusion in his eyes.

“Ha Jin?” 

“Eun? ” What, is he a peeping Tom in every timeline? “What are you doing here?” She asked, suddenly hoping she was wrong.

“Waiting for a friend.” She saw a smile touch his eyes. “Why? Did you think I was spying?” 

The door to the changing room swung open once again and a gorgeous, leotard-wearing young woman skipped out. “Eun-i! You made it! Did you bring the skirt?” 

Eun nodded and handed over a bag. “Oh! You’re a lifesaver!” The dancer said, giving Eun a dazzling smile. “Tell Baek Ah I said thanks! I’ll see you at the next rehearsal!” Then she gave a final wave and bounded off down the hall. 

Ha Jin closed her mouth and tried to slip away. 

“Wait up!” She could hear Eun’s footsteps behind her. “Ha Jin - stop!” 

That voice. How long had she wished she could hear it again? She thought of Prince Eun’s grin, and it was enough to slow her steps. Eun reached her side. 

“Where have you been all these months? I thought for sure we’d run into you again - especially after everything you and Jung went through… But you dropped off the map!” 

At the mention of Jung’s name, Ha Jin’s eyes began to prickle. 

“What is it? Are you okay?” Eun put a hand on her arm, trying to get a better view of her face. 

Ha Jin stopped and turned to him, frustrated at the mask covering the bottom half of his face. He wasn’t Prince Eun, but he was similar in so many ways. If she could just see his smile for a moment - his wonderful, bright smile - maybe she could trick herself into thinking Eun was okay. 

“Why are you wearing that?” She asked, nodding at the mask. “Are you sick?” 

Eun laughed. “No, I’m trying to avoid impromptu meet-and-greets.” 

“Ah… Right.” Ha Jin had forgotten his status as an idol. Although she’d initially tried to avoid the temptation, she’d eventually snapped and researched the Lee family in the weeks after waking at the hospital. Her blood had run cold when she saw that the family was pretty much identical in size and appearance to King Taejo’s family. Even their first names were the same, as though history was trying to play a perverse joke on her.  

It was easy enough to find out about their lives. Some of the brothers even had Wikipedia pages. Eun was the lead singer of Stellar Wave, a famous five-member group that churned out catchy dance tracks. 

“It suits you,” Ha Jin said, remembering how easily Prince Eun had gotten bored and how he’d always been in search of praise. 

“What does?”

“Being a singer. I’m sure you love the attention.” She started walking again. 

Eun hurried to keep up. “You’re really odd - you know that? First time we meet, you say my name like we’re besties, and now you’re calling me attention-seeking.” He was pouting in the same way the Prince had, his bottom lip sticking out like a misunderstood child. 

“I didn’t use that word! I’m sorry - you’re right.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t make assumptions.” They reached the foyer of the building. Ha Jin pulled out her phone, searching for the nearest bus stop.

“Are you going home? Do you want to grab a coffee?” 

She paused, looking up at Eun. “I can’t hang out with you.”

“Why not?” His eyes were bright, as though he’d caught sight of a new toy. 

“Because -” Ha Jin thought about lying, but it was getting tiring having to constantly rebuff people with excuses. She hadn’t been able to open up to anyone for a while. “When I see you,” she said slowly, unsure whether she’d later regret it, “I’m reminded of everything that happened. It’s painful.” 

“ I remind you? But why? We hardly know each other!” 

“You look like someone I used to know. Someone I was close with.” 

He frowned, studying her with a curious expression. “Was his name Eun?”

Ha Jin nodded.

“Ah! So that’s why you were like that at the hospital…” 

Ha Jin started walking again. Eun hurried to catch up. 

“Was he an ex-boyfriend?”

“No!” Ha Jin said, maybe a little too sharply. “More like an annoying younger brother.”

“Good - I’m nothing like that!”

“What are you, then?” 

“A cool oppa?” 

With so much of his face obscured, it was hard to tell if he was being sincere. “Why do you even want to have coffee with me?”

Eun shrugged. “I used to see you when I visited Jung. I guess at some point I started wondering what you were like.”

Ha Jin found herself staring. She’d wondered, too. Ever since that day in December, when the three of them had come to visit her, she’d wondered how far the parallels went.  

The brothers had burst into her hospital room without warning, like a flock of colourful birds. Eun was wearing a bright orange jacket with white jeans, and Baek Ah had on a patchwork coat of various pastel shades, as though they’d colluded to choose cheerful outfits. They were pushing Jung in a wheelchair. When Ha Jin saw the bouquet of flowers in Jung’s hands, she felt her heart stutter. It was the first time she’d seen him properly awake, even though it had been nearly a week since the ‘miracle’. 

“Hi,” Jung broke the ice. “Is now a good time to visit?” Ha Jin felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

He sounds the same! 

She nodded in a daze, prompting Jung to smile. 

It was at that moment that panic began to grip her. Others might not have noticed - but she’d seen Prince Jung smile a thousand times; she knew every variation. Ha Jin could tell, without further explanation, that this particular smile wasn’t genuine. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Jung said. Ha Jin felt her hopes crash to the floor. “I’m Lee Jung. I’ve heard so much about you.”

It was as though an arrow had followed them across time, coming to land only now in Ha Jin’s chest. 

Baek Ah must have noticed her change of expression, because he suddenly stepped forward. “Are you alright, Miss Go? You look pale. Should we call a nurse?” 

Ha Jin couldn’t stop herself; she’d started crying. Big, angry tears; small, desperate tears; all the tears she’d managed to keep in for a week, night after night of hoping and waiting and telling herself that it couldn’t just be a coincidence - that the universe had kept her by Jung’s side for a reason. 

“Ha Jin!” Eun came to her bedside. “What’s wrong? Does something hurt?”

“No,” she shook her head, rubbing her chest with her hand. 

“Maybe we should come back another time,” Baek Ah murmured. 

“Sure,” Jung agreed. He was still watching her. “I’m being transferred home tomorrow, but we can catch up another day,” he said, giving her that cursed smile, the one that didn’t touch his eyes. “I just wanted to say thanks for being by my side all those months, and for helping me wake up.”

The longer Ha Jin stared at him, the sharper the pain in her chest grew. He was beautiful. While Prince Jung had lived through horrible battles and loss, this man, clearly, had only ever known peace. There wasn’t a single line or trace of worry on his skin. She knew from online articles that he was 30, but he could have been 21 for all the years had aged him.  

She tried to brush away some of her tears with the back of her hand. Something about the look in his eyes; the wary, hesitant expression, made her realise this was probably the last chance she’d get. 

“Thank you for saving me,” she said, the words feeling wildly inadequate. “I wouldn’t have made it without you.” She thought of Prince Jung and everything he’d had to endure for her sake. Would he have lived a long, peaceful life if she hadn’t married him? She wished she could talk to him directly, but there was only this cold replica left. “I’m sorry for causing you so much trouble.” 

Perhaps she’d spoken too intensely. The doppelganger blinked, and for the first time looked sincere. “Well, it wasn’t your fault… You were only trying to do the right thing.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Ha Jin couldn’t stop the question from slipping out. Did you visit Goryeo, too? 

“My memory’s still fuzzy… But I think I was swimming towards you, trying to reach you underwater.” 

The brothers hadn’t stayed long after that. Baek Ah had suggested they take their leave before wearing Ha Jin out, and Eun had wheeled Jung to the door. 

“Let’s meet again when you’re feeling better,” Baek Ah said, halfway out the door. “Don’t be a stranger.” 

Ha Jin had found those words increasingly funny to think back on. For months after, whether standing numbly in the shower or lying in bed, struggling to turn off her brain before the pale light of morning crept in from under the curtains, she’d returned to that moment. 

What’s wrong with being a stranger? She wished she could be one. She wished she wouldn’t worry or wonder how they were doing; whether they were sleeping well and living happily. If she could just go to bed each night, without needing to drag out her phone and search for updates, her life would be a lot simpler. 

But even with the hours she spent worrying, she’d rejected the idea of getting to know the doppelgangers, for the simple reason that it broke her heart. The business card Jung had given her lay tucked away in a draw, collecting dust. She’d either return to Goryeo, or find a way to move on completely. She wasn’t going to torture herself trying to get crumbs of affection from uncanny-looking strangers. 

Or so she’d told herself. Now, sitting across from Eun at a glittering restaurant, she felt a burst of happiness she hadn’t anticipated.

“I thought you wanted to get coffee?” Ha Jin said, scanning the menu for prices. There weren’t any. Shit.  

Eun had pulled off his mask at the entrance. He gave her a sly grin. “They serve coffee here. It just takes a few courses.”

That smile! It’s him! Ha Jin’s thoughts were in a flurry. Why does it feel so much like him? 

“This isn’t a date, is it?” She put down the menu, giving him a serious look. 

“As if! Why would an annoying brother take you on a date?”

“You said you wouldn’t be like that!” 

“Fine. But I’m still curious about this other Eun… Anyway, this is a good place to talk. No pesky photographers.”

Ha Jin glanced at the cutlery and sighed. “I don’t know if my student allowance will cover this silverware…”

Eun shook his head. “I dragged you here - there’s no way you’re paying! So just enjoy it.” 

The smile that broke across Ha Jin’s face at that second probably seemed disproportionate to the setting, but it was one Ha Jin had been saving up since the moment she’d realised Eun - or at least this version of Eun - was alive. 

Eun’s jaw slackened and he blinked, eyes wide. “I don’t think girls usually smile like that for their brother.”

Ha Jin picked up the menu and made a motion to swat him. Eun raised a hand in defence, ducking as a waiter appeared next to their table. 

Ha Jin dropped her head, biting back a laugh, and traced the grains of the tabletop while Eun ordered for them, looking up only once when the waiter asked what they wanted to drink.

“A bottle of -” 

“- water!” Ha Jin finished for Eun. If he was anything like the Prince, there was no way she was letting him near alcohol. 

Eun pouted as the waiter walked away. “Water? Where’s the fun in that?”

“We can order extra dessert to make up for it.” 

Eun’s mouth pulled upwards, eyes sparkling. “What! You mean you won’t do that thing that all my past dates have done, where they pretend they don’t want dessert, then steal bites of mine?”

“No, because like you said - this isn’t a date.”

Eun smiled, relaxing back in his seat. “I should have dinner with randoms more often.” 

Why was it so easy to talk to him? It was as though no time had passed since those days at Wook’s house. He’s not even the same person! Still, trying to tell herself that, and actively staying on guard around someone who felt like an old friend, were two different things.   

“Wouldn’t it be easier if I was a total stranger? Then you wouldn’t have to worry so much about photographers.”

The smile on Eun’s face froze. “What do you mean?” he asked, feigning surprise. 

“Mrs Lee won’t be happy if she finds out,” Ha Jin said, taking a sip of water. 

For a moment Eun sat there, stunned, before realisation finally dawned on his face. “Ahh - I forgot! You’ve met ‘the Queen’!” He glanced around the restaurant, before turning back to Ha Jin and dropping his voice to a whisper. “She’s terrifying - isn’t she? But do you want to know a secret?” He paused for dramatic effect. “She’s more scared of you.” 

“What? Why?” 

Eun leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Yo told me about her visit to the hospital; how she met with you. She expected you to accept her offer! Or at least sell your story to the press... The fact that you didn’t do either - it has her stumped. And she doesn’t like what she can’t predict.”

Thinking back on Mrs Lee’s visit made Ha Jin shudder. She hadn’t been expecting to see that face again in her lifetime, apart from in nightmares. Ha Jin stabbed a carrot with her fork, imagining it was the Queen’s head. “I didn’t need the money.”

“Sure, no one likes dealing with the devil - but we’re not talking about pocket change here. She would have written you a blank cheque! You could have been dining at a place like this all year.” 

Ha Jin shook her head. “The devil doesn’t write cheques for free.” Lee Yoo’s conditions had been clear. Ha Jin hadn't found it bearable to accept them. 

Eun studied her. “I can’t work you out. You’re not impressed by this,” he gestured around, “even though you’re living like a student. You’re not tempted by fame, even though thousands of people would love to hear your story. You don’t even want money! Everyone wants money!” 

Ha Jin knew he’d never understand. Prince Eun had been like a magpie, drawn to anything that glittered. “There are more important things.” 

“Like what?”

Ha Jin smiled, drinking in how great it was to see him again. “Friends, family... Catching up with someone over a meal. I missed this.” She shook her head, trying to clear the sadness from her thoughts. “Anyway, I haven’t had a chance to ask - how is Jung?”

Eun chewed his lip. “He’s okay. He got the lead role in some period film. They’re filming next month.” 

“So he made a full recovery, then? He didn’t have any trouble with physio?” 

“He complained a lot, so I think it was pretty draining. But yeah - he got full movement back.” Eun paused, looking down. “I don’t know why you don’t just ask him yourself,” he muttered. 

Ha Jin ignored it. “What about Baek Ah? How is he?”

“Oh, he’s fine. I think… It’s harder to know with him.” 

“Do you see them often?” 

“I’ve been busy with rehearsals, so not as much as I’d like to.” 

“I’m curious - what do you do when you’re not rehearsing? What are your hobbies?” 

They spent the rest of the dinner chatting about movies, books and games. Eun tried to catch her up on the highlights of the seven months she’d missed, and Ha Jin told him about all the things she’d come to appreciate since leaving the hospital. 

“Chocolate!” Ha Jin declared, scooping up a spoonful of pudding. “It’s got to be one of the top food discoveries of all time!” 

“I agree!” Eun said, stuffing a forkful of cheesecake into his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed as he savoured the taste. “My stylist is going to kill me at the next fitting - but I don’t care! It’s worth it!” 

The hours seemed to fly by too quickly. Before long the waiter was bringing them the bill, and they were forced to leave the cosy cocoon of the restaurant.  

Eun pulled his mask back on, checking his phone as they reached the curb. “My friend’s throwing a party tonight - do you want to come? Jung will be there.”

Ha Jin didn’t want to break the magic of the evening by saying goodbye, but her heart was suddenly racing. It was one thing to relive her friendship with Eun - he’d been gone from her life for years and it felt cathartic in a way, pretending he was back. Jung was a different matter. 

“I’ve got to study,” she lied. “But thanks for tonight. It was fun.” 

Eun smiled. “Any time, sis!” He danced a few steps back, well-clear of swatting range, and hailed a taxi. “Here,” he said, holding open the door. She slid in, smiling as he closed the door behind her. As she put on the seatbelt, he tapped the window and waved goodbye with the enthusiasm of a small child. “Get home safe!” 

That night, for the first time in almost a year, Ha Jin fell asleep within seconds of her head hitting the pillow, without so much as a glance at her phone.

Chapter Text

-- Ha Jin --

“I think I’m done,” Ha Jin sighed. 

Yeori spun towards her. “How can you be done? We haven’t found anything yet!”

Ha Jin peered down the neatly cobbled street, which was dotted with manicured shrubs and subtly lit to look like a Parisian neighbourhood. “Let’s face it - I can’t afford anything here.” The boutiques Yeori had dragged her to so far had showcased some jaw-droppingly beautiful options, but Ha Jin could tell, just from the glances of the shop assistants, that the price of those dresses would also cause jaws to drop. She didn’t have a very big budget, and she didn’t particularly want to live off ramen for the next three years. “Can’t I just wear one of yours?”

“They’ll be too short! It’s a ball - not a club! You can’t show up in a miniskirt!”

“Then I’ll have to wear the one I found at home.” 

“But it’s made of cotton !” Yeori’s eyes were tearing up in disbelief. 

“It’s black - at least I’ll blend in. Now let’s go find some food - I’m starving!”

“Fine. But you’re paying. And we’re getting soju! I need to wash away the bitter taste of disappointment.”  For all Seori’s intensity, she had the endearing quality of being able to forgive and forget with little effort. She linked arms with Ha Jin and pulled them towards the main street. 

As they sidestepped a group of tourists, someone coming from the opposite direction drifted into their path and bumped into Ha Jin’s shoulder. The man’s phone clattered to the ground, coming to rest near Ha Jin’s foot. She bent to pick it up. 

“Here,” she said, dusting it off and holding it out. She did a double take when she saw who was standing there. “Baek Ah?” She almost hadn’t recognised him. 

“Miss Go,” he said, with all the enthusiasm of an automated response. His eyes were unfocussed, his hair a mess, and it looked as though he hadn’t slept in days. 

“How are you?” She asked, hoping that for once he’d answer truthfully.

“Fine,” he nodded. “How are you?” His clothes were simple - nothing that would make him stand out in a crowd, but each item probably cost more than her entire wardrobe combined. 

“Good,” she replied, studying his face. She didn’t believe for a second he was fine. “What are you up to? We’re going to grab some dinner - do you want to come?”

Baek Ah shook his head. “No, it’s fine. I’ve already eaten.”

“What about a drink?” 

“Maybe some other time.” His eyes drifted to the side. He nodded politely at Yeori. “Have a good evening.” He turned to go, and within moments the street had swallowed him from sight. 

“Who was that?” Yeori looked starstruck. 

“Lee Baek Ah,” Ha Jin answered, staring at the point in the crowd where she’d lost sight of him. 

“Lee Baek Ah? The designer?”

“Mhmm. Come on,” Ha Jin said, heading in the direction of the restaurant.

“You didn’t tell me you know Lee Baek Ah!”

“I met him through the accident. He’s Jung’s brother.”

“I know! Lee Jung has a bunch of brothers - but you never said you actually knew them!”

“I’ve only met a couple.”

“Which ones?”

“Just Baek Ah and Eun.” 

“Lee Eun?! Omo! I think I need to sit down.”

Ha Jin’s thoughts were distracted, and it wasn’t until she was pouring the first round of drinks that she realised why. 

“Did he look upset to you?”

“Who? That god we just met? The one you casually referred to by his first name? No. He looked like every other deity - just perfect,” Seori sighed. “You should have introduced us!” 

Ha Jin frowned, picking up her glass. “He seemed distracted.”

“Well, of course. He’s probably run off his feet with work.” 

“Do you think?”

Seori shook her head, her fringe brushing the top of her eyelashes. “I forget you aren’t interested in fashion. His label isn’t just popular; it’s atelier. The gowns he designs - they’re out of this world! But unfortunately they’re not available to mere mortals.” Seori picked up a piece of dried squid and waved it around. “Even if you had the money, the waiting list is a few decades long, and you have to be famous to have the slightest chance. I think there may be some actual royals on the list.” 

Baek Ah didn’t strike Ha Jin as the type who would let work overwhelm him. “I don’t know… It seemed deeper than work stress.” 

“I don’t think you understand how big IG is in the fashion world! It’s one of the busiest months for designers, and after what happened last year, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s feeling more pressure…” 

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know, first that accident with you and Jung, then that model... Everyone thought the Lees might cancel.”

“Wait - are the Lees the ones who host IG?” Ha Jin felt her blood run cold. 

“I thought you knew! I told you their family is all over it…”

“But that’s different from them being the organisers!”

Seori shrugged.

“And wait,” Ha Jin backtracked, “what model? What happened?”

“I don’t remember his name, but he worked closely with Lumière - that’s Baek Ah’s label. He died just before IG. It was a big scandal.” 

Ha Jin leapt up. 

“Where are you going?” 

“I have to check something!” Ha Jin darted to the front of the restaurant, pulling out her phone and dialling Eun. 

He answered after only a few rings. “Sis! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Eun - I need your help. I ran into Baek Ah earlier. I don’t know how to explain this, but he didn’t seem like himself.” She took a deep breath, trying to slow down her words. “Can you call him? Just check he’s okay.” 

There was a pause before Eun answered. “Sure, of course. It’s probably nothing.” 

Ha Jin’s feet were heavy as she walked back to the table. She knew why Baek Ah’s reaction felt familiar. She’d seen that same expression on the face of the 13th Prince, after the deaths of Lady Hae and Woo Hee.  

Her phone buzzed as she sat back down. 

Eun: Couldn’t reach him. It went straight to voicemail. 

“No,” Ha Jin said, her voice a whisper.

Seori looked up with surprise. “What’s wrong?”

That foreboding feeling was back - the one that had haunted her in Goryeo - but this time there were no sudden visions, and she felt certain she’d missed something. 

That’s when it hit her. 

“What was Baek Ah wearing?” She leaned forward, clutching the table. “Do you remember?”

“Uh, nothing sensational,” Seori stuck out her bottom lip, thinking back. “Black jeans and a white shirt?” 

Ha Jin shot up again, her hands clenched into fists. I’m probably overreacting, she thought. But when, in all her time interacting with that insane family, had feigning ignorance ever helped? She turned to Yeori, who was still watching her, stunned. “I have to go.” 

--------

Baek Ah was standing against the barrier, wind whipping his shirt. Ha Jin came to a stop a few metres away, breathing heavily. She was relieved to see his feet were still on the pavement. 

Since returning to her old life, Ha Jin had come to appreciate many things that she’d previously taken for granted, but at the top of that list were her legs. They were legs that had never known hardship. Perfect, pain-free legs. Her heart came in at a close second, though she couldn’t say that it was completely pain-free. Most days it felt like there was a hole in her chest, despite reassurances from her doctor that she was ‘fit enough to run a marathon’. 

She had taken up running in spring. Every other day, when sleep abandoned her in the early hours of the morning, she’d slip into her trainers and find a path down to the river, where she’d run until the sun cracked open the sky. She’d crossed this bridge dozens of times over the last 6 months, but never in a panic. Her usually fit heart was pounding erratically as she closed the final gap. 

Baek Ah didn’t acknowledge her at first. He’d rolled up his sleeves and was leaning against the railing, eyes fixed on the water below. 

“What do you want?” He finally asked, not bothering to look up. 

Ha Jin shuffled forward and tried to mirror his posture. The cold of the crossbar seeped through her jacket, numbing her arms. She wondered how long he’d been standing like this. 

“I want to go back,” she said, peering down into the churning blackness.  

They weren’t the words he’d been expecting. As he glanced up and met her eye, Ha Jin registered a flicker of surprise.

“I’m sorry for not calling,” she said, thinking of their last meeting at the hospital. Prince Baek Ah, Lee Baek Ah - it didn’t matter what they called him, she’d realised on the ride over - the tragedy was the same. He’d been struggling on his own. “I didn’t know.” 

They stood in silence, watching the blackness swirl below. Had it been minutes or hours? Ha Jin’s fingers were growing stiff, but she held her ground. 

I missed you, she thought. She’d been so strict on herself since December, refusing even the slightest bit of contact with the brothers, but ever since that dinner with Eun, it seemed like her resolve had crumbled. 

Baek Ah’s shoulders were hunched; his whole body angled forward, as though expecting a blow. Ha Jin wished she could remove the barriers between them; skip over the long hours of small talk and coffee catch-ups that would inevitably follow until they were back to a point where she could give him a hug. 

“It’s lonely,” she said. Her voice had grown hoarse in the cold. “Being the only one in the world who remembers - it’s an awful feeling.” 

Baek Ah didn’t reply, but she could see his head tilt to the side. 

“It’s worse when you have no one to talk to,” Ha Jin continued, remembering all the nights she’d leaned on the 13th Prince. 

Another stretch of silence followed, and Ha Jin started counting in her head. If I get to one thousand, I’ll go. 

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Baek Ah said as Ha Jin reached 90. 

She chose her words carefully, conscious that she might not get another chance. “What would you have said?” 

Baek Ah was staring into the distance as he spoke. “That he made the world bright.” 

The evenings were cooler now that they were getting into October. Baek Ah had dressed like someone oblivious to the forecast, or with a reckless disregard for the elements. 

“He didn’t have to do that,” Baek Ah said, rubbing a sleeve across his eyes. “I would have been by his side until the end.” 

Ha Jin had found the news online, reading as much as she could in the 20-minute taxi ride across town. None of the articles had mentioned Baek Ah directly, which wasn’t surprising considering the influence of the Lees, but Ha Jin was still kicking herself for not having seen the connection earlier. 

Jae-Hyun had been the face of Lumière for over three years; a veritable poster child of fashion and beauty, until sickness had forced him to retire early. His body had been found on the banks of the Han river last October. 

“I’m sure he knew,” Ha Jin said, giving Baek Ah’s shoulder a squeeze. 

“It doesn’t matter now, does it? The world has moved on.” 

Ha Jin thought of all the people she’d left behind. “If you miss someone, just miss them,” she said, clenching her fingers. “Who cares what anyone thinks.” She stomped her feet, trying to get some blood back into her toes. “Fuck all those happy, unbroken people.”

A short laugh burst free from Baek Ah and he turned to her, eyes shining. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Oh, you know - killing time before going home.” She raised her eyebrows, wondering how she could make him laugh again. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

--------

“It’s a good thing I wore sneakers today!” Ha Jin said, kicking off her shoes at the door. 

She’d done what any self-respecting student on a budget would, and invited Baek Ah back to her mother’s apartment for tea. 

“You didn’t have to run. I wasn’t going anywhere.” He’d made that point a thousand times on the way over, clearly worried the story would get out. 

“Whether you were or you weren’t, it always feels good to squeeze in some exercise,” Ha Jin said, lining her shoes up against the wall. She wanted to give him space, but she also knew if he was anything like the 13th Prince, he’d appreciate attempts to lighten the mood. She glanced up and saw Baek Ah hovering at the threshold, with the look of someone about to enter a lion’s den.

“Don’t worry,” Ha Jin said, gesturing for him to come inside, “my eomma meets up with her friends on Tuesdays, so we’ll be able to talk in peace.” 

“Do you get on well with your mother?” Baek Ah asked, stepping into the foyer. 

“Sure,” Ha Jin replied, hurrying to the living room and gathering scattered items from the table. “When she’s not nagging me to make better life-choices, it’s great. What about you?”

“My mother died when I was little. I was raised by nannies.” Baek Ah was still peering around the room. 

“Gosh, I’m sorry to hear that. That’s really sad… My eomma and I are still close. I can’t imagine being back without her.” 

Baek Ah shot her a quizzical look. “You make it sound like you returned from a trip.” 

“I guess it could have been a trip to outer space... Do astronauts lose all their muscles if they stay up there too long?” She turned on the kettle and started arranging mugs on a tray. “In dramas they make it look so romantic. The person wakes from a coma and rushes to their loved one’s side - no trouble at all. They don’t have to endure months of physio.”

“I thought you said you liked exercise?” Baek Ah said, his expression deadpan.

“Ouch. I guess I deserved that.” Ha Jin suppressed a smile. Her plan was working. “Anyway, physio is barely exercise - it’s more like body homework.” 

“Was it painful?”

“Not really… but very frustrating. Having to learn to walk again as a grown woman! I didn’t have the patience for it.” She plucked a tea canister from the shelf and opened the lid. 

“Yeah, it was hard on Jung as well. He was so fit before the accident, and then suddenly he was relying on others to wheel him around. He really pushed himself to get back to full strength.” Baek Ah was studying a photo collage on the wall, displaying Ha Jin at various embarrassing ages. “But I still don’t understand,” he said, turning to face her. “Why didn’t you reach out to him? Jung was going through the exact same thing as you. I’m sure he would have appreciated someone to talk to.”

Ha Jin’s hand froze, a scoop of tea hovering above the teapot. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Hm?”

“I could read it on his face,” she looked up at Baek Ah. “He didn’t like the association.” 

Baek Ah ran a hand through his hair, his mouth opening and closing as he scrambled for words. “I think he was just overwhelmed by the news. You know - his career was tanking when he tried to save you, and then he woke up to find himself wildly popular again. It wasn’t anything personal. He was just worried about rumours.” 

Ha Jin nodded. “I get it. I’m not holding it against him.” 

Baek Ah seemed relieved. “Good! He’s not a bad person, you know.” 

Ha Jin wanted to laugh at the irony of that statement. She finished filling the teapot and carried the tray over. 

“What is it?” Baek Ah said, lifting the lid and peering at the swirling flowers. “Chamomile?” 

“Chrysanthemum.” It had been Prince Baek Ah’s favourite. 

He accepted a mug and took a sip, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. “It’s good! It tastes familiar, somehow…” He was lost in thought for a moment, before pulling himself back with a shake of the head. “Do you drink a lot of tea?” he asked, eyeing the rows of canisters on the shelf.  

Ha Jin shrugged. “I had to make a lot of it in the past, so now I drink it out of habit.” She wasn’t the least bit interested in small talk. “You weren’t really going to jump, were you?” 

Baek Ah baulked. “No! Of course not.”

“Because there are people here who care for you; who’d be very upset if you did.”

“You don’t have to give me the talk, Miss Go.”

“Call me Ha Jin. Can we speak casually - please?”

“Sure, fine.” 

“Anyway - I think it’s important to say: you’d be missed. It’s something we all need to hear at some point.”

Baek Ah eyed her. “When was that point for you?”

Ha Jin looked at the mug cradled in her hands. Its heat didn’t reach far enough. “More recently than I’d care to admit.” 

“Should I give you the pep talk?”

Ha Jin smiled and shook her head. “No need, someone beat you to it.”

Baek Ah glanced around the living room, clearly hoping for a change of topic. He spied a stack of papers on the sideboard and walked over to examine them. 

“What’s this?” He asked, picking up the top sheet and turning it towards Ha Jin.

“A poem.” 

“Okay… But what does it say?”

She bit her lip, drinking in further irony. “Can’t you read?”

“Not whatever this is… Chinese?” 

“Mm, Classical Chinese. Hanja.” She didn’t need to read the words to recite it. “Green, O green is the willow, Placid, peaceful the flow.” As she flew through the verses she studied Baek Ah, hoping she might see a trace of recognition, but by the end of the poem she realised it was pointless. 

Baek Ah traced a finger over the paper. “Did you write it?”

“No. I mean, it’s my calligraphy, but the poem is by Liu Yuxi.”  

“Well, your calligraphy is impressive. Eun said you were studying history. I guess knowing Hanja is pretty important for that.”

“It’s causing me all sorts of trouble.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, cocking his head to one side. 

“I’m going to have to explain a bunch of documents at IG.”

“What? You’ve been invited? That’s great news!”

Ha Jin sank into the couch. 

“You don’t seem excited,” Baek Ah said, staring down at her stranded-jellyfish posture. “Why?” 

“I don’t really like galas…” She started, but that wasn’t the whole truth. “And I’ll probably run into someone I’m not sure I want to see.” 

“Are we talking about an ex?” Baek Ah asked, giving her a curious look. 

“I guess you could call him that…”

“Wow. All those reporters were going crazy trying to find out about your dating life, and you’re saying he’ll be there on Saturday? What kind of dress are you going to wear? I hope it’s spectacular.”

“Define spectacular,” Ha Jin said, picking up a cushion and smothering her face. 

“Is it here? Let me see!”

What’s the harm? Ha Jin thought. She threw aside the cushion and walked to her bedroom. Baek Ah followed, clearly excited for the big reveal. Ha Jin pulled out her only option and held it up. 

Baek Ah’s face dropped. “You’re joking.” 

Ha Jin shook her head. 

Baek Ah took a few steps back, as though physically repelled. “Oh no…”

-– Baek Ah –-

“What was going on with you Tuesday? Ha Jin was really worried.” Eun was fiddling with a bottle cap, unable to sit still even during a short drive. 

“Nothing,” Baek Ah sighed. “I was just having a bad day. Why? Did you tell her where I might be?”

“No, I couldn’t reach you - I had no idea!”

Baek Ah thought back to the strange events of that day. He’d gone to the bridge without a plan, feeling lower than he ever had before. At first he’d found the water calming, but the longer he stared out into the blackness, the more a sense of hopelessness seemed to steal over him. He would never share the thoughts that had crossed his mind at that moment; there wasn’t another living soul he could trust with the secret, but somehow Ha Jin had known. 

She wasn’t anything like he’d expected. From the gossip Mrs Lee had spread, he thought Ha Jin would be cold or eccentric; unrelatable in some fundamental way. But she was nothing like that. Each smile, each graceful flutter of her hands - even the soft cadence of her voice, was like a blanket around Baek Ah’s shoulders. There was a warmth and familiarity about her; he couldn’t put his finger on it, but it made him feel peaceful, like hearing a melody from happier times.    

“Why are you here, again?” Baek Ah asked, snatching the bottle cap from Eun’s hands and throwing it into a bag. “Shouldn’t you have gotten a ride with your date?”

“I don’t have a date! My manager said it would be bad for my image.” Eun turned to him, eyes bright. “What about you? Wait - is Ha Jin your date?” 

Eun had been dying to talk about Ha Jin for weeks, ever since he’d bumped into her on campus. Baek Ah would sometimes catch Eun watching his phone, as though hoping for a spontaneous message. As far as Baek Ah knew, Ha Jin and Eun were fast becoming besties, though from the way Eun’s face lit up at any mention of her name, it was perhaps a slippery slope.

“No. I’m just giving her a lift,” Baek Ah said, glancing out the window. They were almost there. “She was invited through the history department.”

“Good. Good, good, good.”

“Why does that number of ‘good’s sound suspicious?”

Eun shrunk back against the seat, lips pressed firmly together. Is he blushing?  

There was - he had to give it to Eun - a peculiar aura around Ha Jin that seemed to draw people in. She seemed to move through the world with a secret knowledge, as though she had been sent from some other place to observe the workings of mortals. 

Baek Ah shook his head. It was a ridiculous train of thought. 

“I’m surprised you offered to take her,” Eun said. “Aren’t you worried about the backlash from you-know-who?”

“You forget how much of an outcast I am. That woman hasn’t bothered me in years.” 

Baek Ah had never grown accustomed to the power dynamics of their family, let alone the fame. Thankfully, as one of Lee Geon’s lesser known sons (the product of a brief affair in the early 90s), he could still walk down the street without being accosted. 

“Is this it?” Eun asked, squinting out the window as the limousine drew to a halt. 

Baek Ah nodded. “I’ll let her know we’re here,” he said, messaging Ha Jin. 

Eun straightened his bowtie as they waited. “I hope she managed to find a dress in time. I don’t think she had a very big budget, judging by what she usually wears...”

Baek Ah glanced out the window expectantly. After a few minutes, the doors to the apartment building slid open and a cloud of fabric floated down the front steps. 

“Dear god, Baek Ah,” Eun said to his left, sounding like he’d just been sucker-punched. “What have you done?” 

Ha Jin made her way towards the limousine with a distracted expression, holding the front of her dress to avoid tripping. 

“She’s going to cause a riot,” Eun whispered, his voice still choked up. 

Baek Ah smiled. The dress was perfect for her, just as he imagined it would be, though to call it a dress was somewhat of an understatement. It was perhaps the most intricate thing Baek Ah had ever created. He’d started working on it years ago, without any plan for where it would end up. Until Thursday, it had occupied a spare room of his apartment. On countless nights he’d woken from a half-remembered dream and gone to work on it, shaping, embroidering, and stitching pearls into the skirt with the dedication of a religious devotee. 

The dress had taken on a character of its own over time. Sometimes he’d enter the spare room just to admire it, but he’d never considered letting anyone wear it. That was until Tuesday, when Ha Jin’s face had crumpled at his reaction. “It’s okay,” she said, brushing a hand down the wrinkly black cotton of the wholly unsuitable option. Her voice sounded tragically small. “It’s just one night. Anything is bearable for one night.” It wasn’t just that she looked sad. Baek Ah wasn’t softhearted, and he rarely did favours for acquaintances. But at that moment something had convinced him; it was as though he could see right to the core of Ha Jin, and realised there was something much, much bigger at play. 

Thankfully, only a few tweaks had been needed to get the dress to fit, as though it had been made for her all along. Ha Jin had protested at first, saying it was a crime to let a student wear an artwork, but Baek Ah had been firm. 

Now, seeing Ha Jin shine under the streetlamps, he had a strange feeling that this moment was preordained. 

Baek Ah stepped out onto the pavement to greet her. It was a beautiful, clear night, and were it not for the city lights Baek Ah was sure they’d be able to see stars. 

Ha Jin smiled, her hands twisting nervously around a white clutch. She’d pinned her hair in an elaborate updo; braids and curls haloing her head, with a delicate pin in the shape of a shell on top. “What do you think?” She asked. 

“You look beautiful,” he told her. And it was true. She was, quite simply, a vision. 

He helped her into the limo, making sure the train of the gown was well clear of the door, then stepped back inside. Eun was still trying to compose himself, his face a touch paler than usual. 

“Eun-ah!” Ha Jin greeted him with delight. “I didn’t know you were coming with us!” 

“He insisted,” Baek Ah said, watching his brother’s paralysis with amusement. 

Ha Jin brushed the silk of her skirt. It was an extraordinary fabric Baek Ah had found at a vintage dealer; the palest pink hue with an iridescent quality that caused the gown to shimmer gold and blue, depending on the light. 

“Be honest, Eun-ah,” Ha Jin said, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Do I look like a mermaid?”

“Well,” Eun said, taking a deep breath, “I don’t want to give you an inflated sense of self-confidence… but you look stunning. Hands down a goddess.”

Ha Jin beamed at the compliment. 

“Now how are we related, again?” Eun asked. “I’d like to revoke your sibling status.” 

Ha Jin swatted him. 

“Yah!” Eun said, ducking. “Mermaids are supposed to be a gentle species!” 

With a deep sigh Ha Jin settled back, her eyes shifting to the window. “I’m glad I won’t be arriving alone.” The corners of her mouth curved downward, as though contemplating something unpleasant. 

“Her ex will be there,” Baek Ah said, filling Eun in on the situation.

“He’s not actually my ex!” Ha Jin said, turning towards him with despair. “That’s the problem! It’s complicated…”

Baek Ah had never seen her this flustered. “Right,” he said, realising what he’d missed. “You still like him?”

Ha Jin didn’t reply, but continued wringing her hands. 

“Well, I don’t approve!” Eun said, his voice suddenly too loud. “If this guy’s intentions were honourable, he would have brought you as his date!”

There was nothing Baek Ah could add to that comment, but whoever this guy was, he was certainly in for a shock.