Chapter 12
“Eonni?” Haewon called out, clutching the veil she’d discovered along the forest path. It was her sister’s; she was certain of it. Jade had embroidered a small plum blossom onto hers, as she had a magpie onto Haewon’s. “Eonni!”
In the mad rush of patrons escaping the bookstore, Haewon had yelled out to Jade their plan when she’d finally found her sister.
They would meet by the large rock they always passed on the way home if they were separated.
And sure enough, she’d lost sight of her sister almost immediately in the flood of people spilling into the overcrowded marketplace.
And when Haewon had arrived at the rock, it was to find neither Jade nor Boram—only the veil.
Haewon continued to search the periphery, her sandals sinking into the wet earth, then walked along the path that wended through the thickly wooded hill. It occurred to her that Jade might have slipped in the rainfall, a heavy torrent that had calmed into a trickle only moments ago.
“Eonni!” she continued to call out as she carefully searched the hillside, anchoring her balance on protruding roots.
She finally reached the foot of the slope and frantically made her way through the tangle of bramble and branches, hoping to find nothing—no missing shoe, no shred of silk fluttering on a branch.
She truly hoped Jade had simply abandoned her veil and had continued homeward.
So caught up in her thoughts, she was unaware of the tramp of hooves until the earth beneath her trembled.
It was then she realized she had wandered out of the forest, back onto a road—right into a horseman’s path.
She was about to clear the way when she slipped in the mud, and all too soon, a great shadow swept up high, horse hooves striking out from the mist.
A choked cry escaped her as she scrambled back, watching wide-eyed as the horse pranced backward, legs thrashing the air.
Haewon quickly dragged herself to the side of the road, her back scratching against a prickly shrub, and there she sat with her heart pounding. She’d nearly had her bones crushed—
Her attention fell from the horse’s empty saddle to the man curled up on the earth, his cerulean-blue robe stained red.
“Lord Yu!” she cried, hurrying over to his side. His face was pale with shock as he clutched at his arm, his sleeve torn and bloody. Next to him was a sharp slab of granite. “You are hurt—let me assist you.” She crouched low. “Here, lean on me.”
“That’s unnecessary.” His jaws locked with determination as he rose to his feet, but within moments, he was curling forward, his back tensing in pain.
“I didn’t see you,” he said through gritted teeth, and then was considerate enough to add, despite his injury, “Your sister is well. We found her with your maid. She was too faint to travel all the way home, so Byeongho took them to his residence nearby. His mother also resides there.”
Relief rushed through her, and all her focus returned to the gentleman before her. “Please, lean on me—”
He ignored her again, the stubborn man, and staggered toward a nearby tree. He leaned heavily against the trunk, his lips pale and perspiration gleaming on his brow. Still, he managed to summon his horse with a single breathless command.
“Jeolyeong.”
The creature snorted, nervously pacing back and forth.
Haewon hesitated for only a moment, then cautiously approached the creature, an animal several times her own size.
“I’m sorry for scaring you,” she whispered, laying a steadying hand against its side.
There was, she noticed, a constellation of seven small white spots along the horse’s hindquarters, like the Bukdu Chilseong—the seven stars of the northern sky.
She smoothed her hand across its silken coat a few more times, watching as the horse finally caught its breath.
Once the animal had stilled, Haewon walked on, leading the horse out of the blue drizzle, until she could tether the reins to a branch.
A horse was easy to calm; she had done so countless times, for her family’s horse was easily spooked. But as she turned to Lord Yu, she knew a greater challenge remained.
“Your arm is injured,” she pointed out.
“Yes,” he answered, staring down at the blood oozing out between his fingers. “I am aware of that.”
“I can stop the bleeding, if you would permit me.”
“You needn’t.”
She wiped aside wet strands of her hair. “I am only asking to tend to your wound. You needn’t look so afraid of me, nauri.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” he said dryly.
“If you do not stop the bleeding,” she said, “you might pass out, and then what am I to do with you?”
A muscle worked in his jaw, then he wrenched his gaze away from her. “Bind me up then.”
Letting out a breath, she knelt before him. She took the ornamental paedo tied to her coat string and used the knife to cut a strip from the hem of her skirt. His muscles tensed as she reached for him, moving aside his bloody hand to examine the wound. It did not appear to be life-threatening.
She proceeded to wrap the fabric around his arm, mindful of the pain she might cause. But as she smoothed the bandage into place, her gaze flickered past the torn sleeve and stilled.
An old scar, oddly shaped, carved into his bare arm.
Then another. And another. She followed their path up to where they disappeared under what remained of his sleeve, then up to his shoulder, where his loosened robe had shifted just enough to reveal the faintest glimpse of yet another scar disappearing behind the curve of his back.
Her fingers hesitated.
Where could a man like him have suffered such wounds? And so many? His body, surely, had been guarded as carefully as a crown prince’s, tended to with the same reverence by those who raised him—
No, she was determined not to wonder. She was not curious about Lord Yu. She forced her gaze away, and as she searched for a distraction, she realized she had never expressed her gratitude. “Thank you,” she said, “for coming all this way and assisting me and my sister.”
“It was nothing,” he replied, staring straight ahead, his expression taut. “Besides, to recognize a duty without carrying it out is mere cowardice.”
She bit her lower lip. Lord Perfect, it seemed, spoke in rules and proverbs. Of course he had just quoted the Analects to her. He was every bit the proper gentleman she had imagined him to be.
He was truly insufferable.
Truly.
And yet …
She glanced up at him through her lashes, and her traitorous heart did a little skip. Raindrops escaped through the canopy, streaking down the hard lines of his face, on his lashes like the finest of crystals, nothing boyish about him at all. He looked so stern. Too stern for someone so young.
“You’ve done this before,” came his deep voice, startling her attention away.
“Beg pardon?” She sounded breathless.
“I said, you’ve done this before. You’ve tended to wounds.”
She forced a smile. “When you have a sister like Yeonhee, many times. She once fell off a swing and broke her arm. Another time she fell into a well and broke her ankle; thankfully it was winter so the water was frozen.” She continued to recite the many incidents until he looked almost overwhelmed, then she added quietly, “And my two sisters have done the same for me. They have always come to my aid in times of difficulty. It is what family does—nay, it is what any decent human being ought to do. Be there for one another.”
In that moment, a lonely shadow flitted across his features. “Is that so?”
“Don’t you have anyone like that?” she asked, careful to keep her voice casual. “Someone who is there for you? Your father or mother, perhaps?”
“My mother is deceased. My father—he’s in mourning and has trouble even caring for his own self.”
“You mentioned you had a sister. Are you close to her? Perhaps I’ve met her, if she’s visited the bookshop before?”
He watched her for a long moment, his gaze inscrutable.
And then, without a word, he looked away and proceeded to examine his bandaged wound, as though he could not be bothered to answer her simple question.
Never had she been so coolly dismissed, and she almost wanted to laugh.
His arrogance was astounding, and his opinion of her quite clear: He didn’t think her worthy of conversation.
And, quite frankly, she didn’t care.
If he couldn’t bother to be amiable, then she refused to try to be pleasant, either.