A Dance of Mist and Fury, page 71
In my room, I dressed and styled my hair, making everything as precise as I could, and cleaned off my face to start afresh.
There was one problem. I couldn’t find the cosmetic. I searched, frantic. I knew where I’d left it that morning, but it wasn’t there. Did it fall and accidentally get cleaned out by a maid, or kicked out with me as I left? Was it deliberately taken? Perhaps I was mistaken and placed it somewhere else? It didn’t matter. It was gone.
The sun began to set. Another night of dancing and festivity would soon start. Truly defeated, I unbound my hair, combing it for bed.
As I went to unfasten the ties of my dress, Kwan walked in.
“I was looking for you,” said Kwan, kind in his voice.
I didn’t have the heart to look at him. Afterall, he changed his plans because I’d wanted to dance. “I’m not feeling well.”
From my peripheral, I saw him walk over, setting something down along the way. He laid his hand on my forehead, cool to the touch. I flinched and pulled away.
“Hisa?”
I stayed quiet, not looking at him. Gentle, his fingers took my chin, coaxing me to meet his eye.
“What’s wrong?”
“I lost my cosmetic,” I whispered, placing my own hand to hide my scars.
He pulled it away, slow and soft, revealing the full of my face again. “And? I like you as you are.”
I tucked my neck into my shoulders. “They’ll all stare. And talk. More than they already do.”
Kwan rested his forehead on mine, brushing the tips of our noses together. “I’m not ashamed of you.”
My gaze fell.
“Hisa,” cooed Kwan. “I want you to be my wife. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says. It is my decision, and yours. I will not hide you, or that I am in love with you, away.”
Assured, I looked at him again, putting on a smile.
“They still gossip about my own faults and flaws,” said Kwan, caressing my face. “Do not let jealous words rule you.”
I nodded.
“I have something.”
He stood before I could object or ask, fetching the wrapped thing he’d set down and returning. A hair pin, decorated with peonies in near lifelike appearance.
“Do you like it?”
I nodded, my smile growing.
“Allow me,” said Kwan, taking my hair. He combed it, making a simple bun to set the hairpin in. I didn’t argue it, basking in the tender touch and affection. When he finished, he set his hands on my upper arms, placing the bridge of his nose along my neck. “Will you dance with me?”
The squall in my mind stilled, and my heart warmed as it took a slow rhythm. “Okay,” I whispered, allowing my smile to grow.
He helped me to my feet, leading us out. I stopped at the thresh of the door. He looked at me, head tilted.
“Kiss me?”
That hint of a smile returned to his face. A soft kiss to my lips, and another atop my forehead.
In the courtyard nearest the castle, an announcement was made by Kwang. A man with silver-blue eyes and sharp features, dressed in iridescent black robes stood, presented with a young woman in lavished pastels who bore a similarity to Kwan’s eldest brother. The crowds clapped, muttering words of surprise and approval. An engagement, perhaps, since it looked similar to when Kwan hosted court to announce Urekkato and Eumeh.
Something caught my attention through the crowds. Seong, standing perfectly still with a woman beside him whose expression appeared severe in disapproval, and Sara fanning herself in a huff. I didn’t understand the scene, since everyone else seemed happy enough for the new couple, and surely, they were aware.
I didn’t have time to think too much on it, led away by Kwan to take the first dance with him. Across the space I noticed the new couple also taking to dance. At the very least, attention would be drawn away. Relieved by that, my smile held strong.
“The hair pin looks lovely on you,” said Kwan not long into our dance.
I’d practiced more, not needing to place my focus on the steps, so I could look more to his face and into his eyes as we moved about in synchrony. Midway, my mind caught up to tell me something. Kwan’s hand was wrapped. “You’re injured,” I said, quiet.
He said nothing, following my worried gaze. “To break my old oath,” said Kwan, matching my volume.
“The dance won’t strain you?”
He picked me up to carry a pirouette, placing me back on my feet in sync with the others. We broke away to turn in a single spin, and came back together.
“It’ll heal,” said Kwan. “You needn’t worry.”
I still did.
His hint of a smile spread slightly. “Hisa will worry over her Juneun husband’s every cut?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “I still forget sometimes. To me, you’re just Kwan. The man I love.”
“And you are Hisa. The woman who holds my heart and soul.”
The music ended, allowing for new couples to shuffle in and others to leave. We stood amid other spectators, our hands linked around each other. It didn’t matter if anyone looked or what they said. As long as Kwan was beside me, I felt safe from it.
Towa found us, elegantly dressed and more feminine, rather than her usual masculine attire. “And I thought you hated dancing.”
“I’m more fond of it with Hisa as a partner,” said Kwan.
“Is that so?” asked Towa, a slyness to her tone. “How does your intended feel about it?”
Kwan narrowed his eye at her, reading into the words. I held his hand a little more firmly, reassuring him. “She’s shy. But enjoys a dance.”
“And me?” asked Towa. “I’m not as coordinated. But maybe the right partner could teach a fish how to fly?”
Kwan studied a moment, deciding. “If Hisa has no objection.”
I shook my head, tucking into my shoulders slightly. “Of course.”
Slow, he let go of my hand to take Towa for a dance.
I did mind. It was the habit of obliging others that caused me to speak without thinking. Standing alone, fidgeting, I watched them. They didn’t seem so off sync with each other, and some conversation was held between them. My eyes looked around, making sure Urekkato (among others) really wasn’t around. In my scanning, a glint of something caught my attention. The pendent I’d given Kwan, tied around his belt.
My heart warmed, and my fidgeting lessened.
When he returned, Towa parted politely with a knowing look. I didn’t ask. Part of me didn’t want to know—feared it even.
On and off we danced. The evening winding down, that part of me surrendered. “What did you and Lady Towa talk about?”
Kwan took his time in answering. “She asked about my secret fiancé.”
“Oh...”
“I told her that it’s no secret. She’s the only woman I enjoy dancing with.”
My smile returned, growing wide and bright. In that same moment, fireworks took to the sky. Colors painted the ground, dancers, and onlookers. Now, truthfully, I didn’t care who was watching us. Were we the only ones dancing and all the world looked our way, I didn’t care.
It was the most perfect dance I’d had.
Chapter 80
Jealousy
We slept in, taking breakfast in our room rather than to make a social appearance. I didn’t need a morning remedy, and ate with gusto. Never having seaweed before, I didn’t know what to expect. There was a saltiness to it, but it wasn’t terrible. Mostly, I stuck to whatever was most familiar to me.
Outside the gates, and dressed lightly, Kwan scooped me up to use his speed to get us to the beach. It was a more direct magic, but it still made my insides quiver, and I needed a moment for my feet to remember themselves. My hair kept in its braid, and nausea was notably absent.
It wasn’t long before I took off my sandals, bettering my balance without them in the sand. Clumsy, I hurried to the water’s edge, towing Kwan in hand. The texture of the sand changed where the ocean soaked it; in the seconds that I awed, a wave rolled over my ankles. I squeaked, laughing as I exclaimed how it felt ice cold. And, not wanting to ruin my dress, I gathered the hem of my skirt to hold with my shoes.
We walked along the shore, letting waves roll past us. Now and again I would find a vividly colored shell and pluck it up. Chipped, broken, worn with time, I liked them all the same, and started to build a small collection. Clam shells, snail shells, curious spiral shaped ones, and ones that were porous and spherical. I’d found the dried husk of something called a sea horse, and another of a different animal called a sea star that was missing two of its legs. When Kwan said nothing more, I added them to my keepsakes in my gathered skirt.
I had no sense of the time passing between the warm sun, cold ocean, wild breeze, and tempered sand. Spending the day with the man I loved made the hours irrelevant. Nor did I have any sense of how far we’d walked until we came across a fishing boat that’d beached with damage and a frustrated crew of men.
They’d waved us down, asking for help. Taking his usual time, Kwan offered to bring the vessel far enough where the tide wouldn’t drag it out. They’d realized then that he was a Juneun and fell low to bow. Kwan gave no notice of the gesture, letting go of my hand to drag the cumbersome boat further on land. I held in my laugh, knowing I had to right—five years ago, I would’ve done the same thing.
The men stared in awe as Kwan pulled up their boat at a steady pace, unassisted.
“You must be guests of our own Lord Juneun,” said one man, no older than twenty-five by the look of him. “We’ve been catching glimpses of the fireworks. Is there some sort of celebration at the castle?”
I nodded. “For Mokryon. It’s an annual festival the Juneun hold in spring. But a different Juneun hosted it last year.”
“You’re a Juneun too, then?”
I shook my head with a chuckle. “No, I’m human, like you.”
He looked confused, twisting his expression into a dozen questions.
“I’m—” I couldn’t help it. I was dying to tell someone, to share my happy news. “I’m his intended.”
“Then, you’re a princess?”
Again, I shook my head. “It’s not like that. Kwan and his brothers are high lords, but not princes.”
“Oh, I meant, your father is some far off king, isn’t he? For a human girl to be engaged to a spirit, you’d have to be a princess or something, right?”
I was about to explain when a larger wave crashed over, knocking me off balance. I dropped everything as I fell, caught by the young man. The force of the retreating wave began to pull me. Scared, I held fast and shrieked. In response, he put a more secure arm around me until the water returned to the sea.
“My sandals!” I realized.
“I got ‘em,” called another of the men, dashing into the ocean and wading quickly to snatch them back.
I breathed my relief. “Thank you.”
“You’ve never been near the ocean, have you?” asked the young man.
I shook my head. “No, it’s my first time.” I took my shoes from the other man, a little older, judging by his belly. Forlorn, I set my gaze at the sea, having lost every little thing I’d picked up in one fell swoop. Looking back, I saw Kwan standing with a raised brow and small basket in his hand.
On his approach, he asked if he could buy the basket. The men insisted he take it and whatever else he liked as compensation, expressing their gratitude.
“The basket will do,” said Kwan, offering it to me. “For my beloved.”
The young man became straight backed as I took the basket, placing my shoes inside it. “Wait just a moment Master Juneun, Princess.” He bolted to his boat before I could correct him.
I blinked, looking up at Kwan for a wordless exchange.
“I will inform your Lord Kwang about your distress, so that he can deal with it more appropriately.”
The remaining two men stuttered, giving their thanks.
The younger returned in a sprint, holding something up. “Since you lost all yours, Miss Princess, take this as a thank you.” He panted, handing me a round kind of shell with an odd flower shape in it. “It’s a sand dollar. My little sister likes to collect them—but only perfectly intact ones like this.”
“Shouldn’t it go to her?” I asked, now feeling guilty.
He laughed. “She has dozens. Probably close to a hundred, right uncle?”
The eldest among them nodded. “No idea what she plans to do with them all.”
“If there’s anything more,” said the other. “It’s the least we can do to thank you.”
With a nod, we left, continuing down the beach. All the while something felt off. Looking at Kwan’s face, his stoic expression seemed somehow displeased.
After a while, he broke the stillness between us. “He liked you.”
I blinked, not understanding.
“The boy who put his arm around you.”
“I don’t think so,” I said with a laugh. “A wave knocked me over and tried to pull me in. He caught me, that’s all.”
Slow and silent, Kwan half rolled his eyes and shifted his gaze elsewhere.
Bewildered, my mind argued with itself over what his behavior meant. Was he...? No. Impossible. “What’s wrong?”
Kwan said nothing, continuing an odd pout.
“You’re... are you jealous?”
A slight scoff left him.
I laughed. “What for?” When he said nothing, I leaned against his arm, content. “I often feel jealous of the Juneun ladies. They’ve known you longer than I have. Sometimes I think I can’t measure up, and that you’ll realize you don’t actually want me for a wife.”
“Ridiculous,” said Kwan. “If I wanted any of them, I’d have made some announcement long ago.” His words seemed to surprise him. His eyes told it all. “There was a thought. That you’d want a simpler, less political life. A life with your kin.”
I flexed my fingers in his hand, sighing my comfort as I stayed against his toned arm. “You don’t need to worry about that. If there was the slightest chance he did like me, it’s only because he thought I was a princess and I didn’t get the chance to tell him that I’m not. I’m just an ordinary village girl. Nothing special.”
“You could never be an ordinary village girl,” said Kwan, causing me to look up and meet his eye. “Because you’re Hisa. My Hisa.”
I chuckled. “And you’re my Kwan.”
By mid-afternoon, we set ourselves to go back to the castle. Kwan carried me, using his speed again, and stopping beside the river to clean off excess sand and salt.
At the castle, a serf trotted up. Kwan’s brother wanted to see him.
We parted, agreeing to meet again at supper. On my way to our room, I browsed through the finds I’d accumulated on our stroll. Despite having to start over, I was happy with my collection of broken keepsakes.
All pleasant thoughts fled when I opened the door to find Seong waiting. I blinked, my mind needing to catch up, attempting to make sense of why he was there.
“Kwan isn’t—”
“Lord Kwan,” said Seong. “And I am aware.” With a flick of his finger, the doors closed behind me. “I know the stunt from last night is because of you.”
I went stiff, but said nothing.
He stared. Not the sort of stoic, studying stare I’d grown used to from Kwan. His held a rage with it. A tiger’s stare at cornered prey. “My brother has always been difficult. Now, he’s openly oppugnant with family. What is it you hope to gain, girl?”
I didn’t understand what he meant. While I knew Kwan didn’t get along well with much of his family, he’d been only forthcoming since our arrival to Bitgaram. Hoarse, I started to squeak out my defense. “I don’t—”
Faster than I could blink, he’d left his sitting place by the table and was standing over me. I retreated into myself, as though being smaller and wide-eyed would somehow protect me.
“Whatever he’s promised or planned. End. It.”
Defiance took over me, even as my voice whispered and quivered. “I won’t.”
His palm slammed into the wall, shy of my ear and nearly deafening it a few seconds. I sucked in a sharp, shaking gasp, frozen in place.
“You are his whore and his play-thing. He parades you around for now because you are human and a novelty. He will be bored soon, and in no shortage of lovers beautiful and comely. And you will be old and tossed out, such is your breed.”
I steeled myself at his words, forming a scowl. It dawned on me what he was doing. He was trying to frighten me. He wanted me to surrender and obey, digging at insecurities I already made myself ignore. While he went on, I retrieved memories that proved otherwise. The pledge by the well, in a cave untouched by winter. The half coat I made him, and how he wore it openly. The jade pendent and the dancing, and his own moment of jealousy. Most of all, I held fast to every instance where he’d called me his wife. Short of beating me, I wasn’t going to let Seong manipulate me.
“You’re wrong,” I managed to whisper, even as I trembled.
Seong watched me with seething displeasure. “I think not. There are things in his past you know nothing about.”
“That he was in love with Gumiho, once,” I said, a little stronger. “He already told me everything. And I’ve forgiven him—regardless of whether or not you have, I don’t care. I trust what Kwan has told me over whatever you say to try and frighten me off.”
His other palm slammed. My shoulders flinched, body shivering in instinctual fear, but my eyes stayed locked with his. “I know that promising my daughter to the Samjos without my consent has something to do with you. I wouldn’t be surprised if Urekkato’s disappearance had something to do with you either.”
My expression loosened with confusion.
“You idiot girl,” growled Seong.
Defiant, I forced my voice to carry on despite its quivering. “It’s true that I’m not as educated as a Juneun lady. I don’t even know what oppugnant means. But I’m not stupid. Everything since the door closed is meant to make me afraid of you. To obey and cower. Do you plan to beat me like Beom did to get what you want?”
There was one problem. I couldn’t find the cosmetic. I searched, frantic. I knew where I’d left it that morning, but it wasn’t there. Did it fall and accidentally get cleaned out by a maid, or kicked out with me as I left? Was it deliberately taken? Perhaps I was mistaken and placed it somewhere else? It didn’t matter. It was gone.
The sun began to set. Another night of dancing and festivity would soon start. Truly defeated, I unbound my hair, combing it for bed.
As I went to unfasten the ties of my dress, Kwan walked in.
“I was looking for you,” said Kwan, kind in his voice.
I didn’t have the heart to look at him. Afterall, he changed his plans because I’d wanted to dance. “I’m not feeling well.”
From my peripheral, I saw him walk over, setting something down along the way. He laid his hand on my forehead, cool to the touch. I flinched and pulled away.
“Hisa?”
I stayed quiet, not looking at him. Gentle, his fingers took my chin, coaxing me to meet his eye.
“What’s wrong?”
“I lost my cosmetic,” I whispered, placing my own hand to hide my scars.
He pulled it away, slow and soft, revealing the full of my face again. “And? I like you as you are.”
I tucked my neck into my shoulders. “They’ll all stare. And talk. More than they already do.”
Kwan rested his forehead on mine, brushing the tips of our noses together. “I’m not ashamed of you.”
My gaze fell.
“Hisa,” cooed Kwan. “I want you to be my wife. It doesn’t matter what anyone else says. It is my decision, and yours. I will not hide you, or that I am in love with you, away.”
Assured, I looked at him again, putting on a smile.
“They still gossip about my own faults and flaws,” said Kwan, caressing my face. “Do not let jealous words rule you.”
I nodded.
“I have something.”
He stood before I could object or ask, fetching the wrapped thing he’d set down and returning. A hair pin, decorated with peonies in near lifelike appearance.
“Do you like it?”
I nodded, my smile growing.
“Allow me,” said Kwan, taking my hair. He combed it, making a simple bun to set the hairpin in. I didn’t argue it, basking in the tender touch and affection. When he finished, he set his hands on my upper arms, placing the bridge of his nose along my neck. “Will you dance with me?”
The squall in my mind stilled, and my heart warmed as it took a slow rhythm. “Okay,” I whispered, allowing my smile to grow.
He helped me to my feet, leading us out. I stopped at the thresh of the door. He looked at me, head tilted.
“Kiss me?”
That hint of a smile returned to his face. A soft kiss to my lips, and another atop my forehead.
In the courtyard nearest the castle, an announcement was made by Kwang. A man with silver-blue eyes and sharp features, dressed in iridescent black robes stood, presented with a young woman in lavished pastels who bore a similarity to Kwan’s eldest brother. The crowds clapped, muttering words of surprise and approval. An engagement, perhaps, since it looked similar to when Kwan hosted court to announce Urekkato and Eumeh.
Something caught my attention through the crowds. Seong, standing perfectly still with a woman beside him whose expression appeared severe in disapproval, and Sara fanning herself in a huff. I didn’t understand the scene, since everyone else seemed happy enough for the new couple, and surely, they were aware.
I didn’t have time to think too much on it, led away by Kwan to take the first dance with him. Across the space I noticed the new couple also taking to dance. At the very least, attention would be drawn away. Relieved by that, my smile held strong.
“The hair pin looks lovely on you,” said Kwan not long into our dance.
I’d practiced more, not needing to place my focus on the steps, so I could look more to his face and into his eyes as we moved about in synchrony. Midway, my mind caught up to tell me something. Kwan’s hand was wrapped. “You’re injured,” I said, quiet.
He said nothing, following my worried gaze. “To break my old oath,” said Kwan, matching my volume.
“The dance won’t strain you?”
He picked me up to carry a pirouette, placing me back on my feet in sync with the others. We broke away to turn in a single spin, and came back together.
“It’ll heal,” said Kwan. “You needn’t worry.”
I still did.
His hint of a smile spread slightly. “Hisa will worry over her Juneun husband’s every cut?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “I still forget sometimes. To me, you’re just Kwan. The man I love.”
“And you are Hisa. The woman who holds my heart and soul.”
The music ended, allowing for new couples to shuffle in and others to leave. We stood amid other spectators, our hands linked around each other. It didn’t matter if anyone looked or what they said. As long as Kwan was beside me, I felt safe from it.
Towa found us, elegantly dressed and more feminine, rather than her usual masculine attire. “And I thought you hated dancing.”
“I’m more fond of it with Hisa as a partner,” said Kwan.
“Is that so?” asked Towa, a slyness to her tone. “How does your intended feel about it?”
Kwan narrowed his eye at her, reading into the words. I held his hand a little more firmly, reassuring him. “She’s shy. But enjoys a dance.”
“And me?” asked Towa. “I’m not as coordinated. But maybe the right partner could teach a fish how to fly?”
Kwan studied a moment, deciding. “If Hisa has no objection.”
I shook my head, tucking into my shoulders slightly. “Of course.”
Slow, he let go of my hand to take Towa for a dance.
I did mind. It was the habit of obliging others that caused me to speak without thinking. Standing alone, fidgeting, I watched them. They didn’t seem so off sync with each other, and some conversation was held between them. My eyes looked around, making sure Urekkato (among others) really wasn’t around. In my scanning, a glint of something caught my attention. The pendent I’d given Kwan, tied around his belt.
My heart warmed, and my fidgeting lessened.
When he returned, Towa parted politely with a knowing look. I didn’t ask. Part of me didn’t want to know—feared it even.
On and off we danced. The evening winding down, that part of me surrendered. “What did you and Lady Towa talk about?”
Kwan took his time in answering. “She asked about my secret fiancé.”
“Oh...”
“I told her that it’s no secret. She’s the only woman I enjoy dancing with.”
My smile returned, growing wide and bright. In that same moment, fireworks took to the sky. Colors painted the ground, dancers, and onlookers. Now, truthfully, I didn’t care who was watching us. Were we the only ones dancing and all the world looked our way, I didn’t care.
It was the most perfect dance I’d had.
Chapter 80
Jealousy
We slept in, taking breakfast in our room rather than to make a social appearance. I didn’t need a morning remedy, and ate with gusto. Never having seaweed before, I didn’t know what to expect. There was a saltiness to it, but it wasn’t terrible. Mostly, I stuck to whatever was most familiar to me.
Outside the gates, and dressed lightly, Kwan scooped me up to use his speed to get us to the beach. It was a more direct magic, but it still made my insides quiver, and I needed a moment for my feet to remember themselves. My hair kept in its braid, and nausea was notably absent.
It wasn’t long before I took off my sandals, bettering my balance without them in the sand. Clumsy, I hurried to the water’s edge, towing Kwan in hand. The texture of the sand changed where the ocean soaked it; in the seconds that I awed, a wave rolled over my ankles. I squeaked, laughing as I exclaimed how it felt ice cold. And, not wanting to ruin my dress, I gathered the hem of my skirt to hold with my shoes.
We walked along the shore, letting waves roll past us. Now and again I would find a vividly colored shell and pluck it up. Chipped, broken, worn with time, I liked them all the same, and started to build a small collection. Clam shells, snail shells, curious spiral shaped ones, and ones that were porous and spherical. I’d found the dried husk of something called a sea horse, and another of a different animal called a sea star that was missing two of its legs. When Kwan said nothing more, I added them to my keepsakes in my gathered skirt.
I had no sense of the time passing between the warm sun, cold ocean, wild breeze, and tempered sand. Spending the day with the man I loved made the hours irrelevant. Nor did I have any sense of how far we’d walked until we came across a fishing boat that’d beached with damage and a frustrated crew of men.
They’d waved us down, asking for help. Taking his usual time, Kwan offered to bring the vessel far enough where the tide wouldn’t drag it out. They’d realized then that he was a Juneun and fell low to bow. Kwan gave no notice of the gesture, letting go of my hand to drag the cumbersome boat further on land. I held in my laugh, knowing I had to right—five years ago, I would’ve done the same thing.
The men stared in awe as Kwan pulled up their boat at a steady pace, unassisted.
“You must be guests of our own Lord Juneun,” said one man, no older than twenty-five by the look of him. “We’ve been catching glimpses of the fireworks. Is there some sort of celebration at the castle?”
I nodded. “For Mokryon. It’s an annual festival the Juneun hold in spring. But a different Juneun hosted it last year.”
“You’re a Juneun too, then?”
I shook my head with a chuckle. “No, I’m human, like you.”
He looked confused, twisting his expression into a dozen questions.
“I’m—” I couldn’t help it. I was dying to tell someone, to share my happy news. “I’m his intended.”
“Then, you’re a princess?”
Again, I shook my head. “It’s not like that. Kwan and his brothers are high lords, but not princes.”
“Oh, I meant, your father is some far off king, isn’t he? For a human girl to be engaged to a spirit, you’d have to be a princess or something, right?”
I was about to explain when a larger wave crashed over, knocking me off balance. I dropped everything as I fell, caught by the young man. The force of the retreating wave began to pull me. Scared, I held fast and shrieked. In response, he put a more secure arm around me until the water returned to the sea.
“My sandals!” I realized.
“I got ‘em,” called another of the men, dashing into the ocean and wading quickly to snatch them back.
I breathed my relief. “Thank you.”
“You’ve never been near the ocean, have you?” asked the young man.
I shook my head. “No, it’s my first time.” I took my shoes from the other man, a little older, judging by his belly. Forlorn, I set my gaze at the sea, having lost every little thing I’d picked up in one fell swoop. Looking back, I saw Kwan standing with a raised brow and small basket in his hand.
On his approach, he asked if he could buy the basket. The men insisted he take it and whatever else he liked as compensation, expressing their gratitude.
“The basket will do,” said Kwan, offering it to me. “For my beloved.”
The young man became straight backed as I took the basket, placing my shoes inside it. “Wait just a moment Master Juneun, Princess.” He bolted to his boat before I could correct him.
I blinked, looking up at Kwan for a wordless exchange.
“I will inform your Lord Kwang about your distress, so that he can deal with it more appropriately.”
The remaining two men stuttered, giving their thanks.
The younger returned in a sprint, holding something up. “Since you lost all yours, Miss Princess, take this as a thank you.” He panted, handing me a round kind of shell with an odd flower shape in it. “It’s a sand dollar. My little sister likes to collect them—but only perfectly intact ones like this.”
“Shouldn’t it go to her?” I asked, now feeling guilty.
He laughed. “She has dozens. Probably close to a hundred, right uncle?”
The eldest among them nodded. “No idea what she plans to do with them all.”
“If there’s anything more,” said the other. “It’s the least we can do to thank you.”
With a nod, we left, continuing down the beach. All the while something felt off. Looking at Kwan’s face, his stoic expression seemed somehow displeased.
After a while, he broke the stillness between us. “He liked you.”
I blinked, not understanding.
“The boy who put his arm around you.”
“I don’t think so,” I said with a laugh. “A wave knocked me over and tried to pull me in. He caught me, that’s all.”
Slow and silent, Kwan half rolled his eyes and shifted his gaze elsewhere.
Bewildered, my mind argued with itself over what his behavior meant. Was he...? No. Impossible. “What’s wrong?”
Kwan said nothing, continuing an odd pout.
“You’re... are you jealous?”
A slight scoff left him.
I laughed. “What for?” When he said nothing, I leaned against his arm, content. “I often feel jealous of the Juneun ladies. They’ve known you longer than I have. Sometimes I think I can’t measure up, and that you’ll realize you don’t actually want me for a wife.”
“Ridiculous,” said Kwan. “If I wanted any of them, I’d have made some announcement long ago.” His words seemed to surprise him. His eyes told it all. “There was a thought. That you’d want a simpler, less political life. A life with your kin.”
I flexed my fingers in his hand, sighing my comfort as I stayed against his toned arm. “You don’t need to worry about that. If there was the slightest chance he did like me, it’s only because he thought I was a princess and I didn’t get the chance to tell him that I’m not. I’m just an ordinary village girl. Nothing special.”
“You could never be an ordinary village girl,” said Kwan, causing me to look up and meet his eye. “Because you’re Hisa. My Hisa.”
I chuckled. “And you’re my Kwan.”
By mid-afternoon, we set ourselves to go back to the castle. Kwan carried me, using his speed again, and stopping beside the river to clean off excess sand and salt.
At the castle, a serf trotted up. Kwan’s brother wanted to see him.
We parted, agreeing to meet again at supper. On my way to our room, I browsed through the finds I’d accumulated on our stroll. Despite having to start over, I was happy with my collection of broken keepsakes.
All pleasant thoughts fled when I opened the door to find Seong waiting. I blinked, my mind needing to catch up, attempting to make sense of why he was there.
“Kwan isn’t—”
“Lord Kwan,” said Seong. “And I am aware.” With a flick of his finger, the doors closed behind me. “I know the stunt from last night is because of you.”
I went stiff, but said nothing.
He stared. Not the sort of stoic, studying stare I’d grown used to from Kwan. His held a rage with it. A tiger’s stare at cornered prey. “My brother has always been difficult. Now, he’s openly oppugnant with family. What is it you hope to gain, girl?”
I didn’t understand what he meant. While I knew Kwan didn’t get along well with much of his family, he’d been only forthcoming since our arrival to Bitgaram. Hoarse, I started to squeak out my defense. “I don’t—”
Faster than I could blink, he’d left his sitting place by the table and was standing over me. I retreated into myself, as though being smaller and wide-eyed would somehow protect me.
“Whatever he’s promised or planned. End. It.”
Defiance took over me, even as my voice whispered and quivered. “I won’t.”
His palm slammed into the wall, shy of my ear and nearly deafening it a few seconds. I sucked in a sharp, shaking gasp, frozen in place.
“You are his whore and his play-thing. He parades you around for now because you are human and a novelty. He will be bored soon, and in no shortage of lovers beautiful and comely. And you will be old and tossed out, such is your breed.”
I steeled myself at his words, forming a scowl. It dawned on me what he was doing. He was trying to frighten me. He wanted me to surrender and obey, digging at insecurities I already made myself ignore. While he went on, I retrieved memories that proved otherwise. The pledge by the well, in a cave untouched by winter. The half coat I made him, and how he wore it openly. The jade pendent and the dancing, and his own moment of jealousy. Most of all, I held fast to every instance where he’d called me his wife. Short of beating me, I wasn’t going to let Seong manipulate me.
“You’re wrong,” I managed to whisper, even as I trembled.
Seong watched me with seething displeasure. “I think not. There are things in his past you know nothing about.”
“That he was in love with Gumiho, once,” I said, a little stronger. “He already told me everything. And I’ve forgiven him—regardless of whether or not you have, I don’t care. I trust what Kwan has told me over whatever you say to try and frighten me off.”
His other palm slammed. My shoulders flinched, body shivering in instinctual fear, but my eyes stayed locked with his. “I know that promising my daughter to the Samjos without my consent has something to do with you. I wouldn’t be surprised if Urekkato’s disappearance had something to do with you either.”
My expression loosened with confusion.
“You idiot girl,” growled Seong.
Defiant, I forced my voice to carry on despite its quivering. “It’s true that I’m not as educated as a Juneun lady. I don’t even know what oppugnant means. But I’m not stupid. Everything since the door closed is meant to make me afraid of you. To obey and cower. Do you plan to beat me like Beom did to get what you want?”
