Chapter 14
Every respectable young lady was surrounded by a neighborhood of meddling ajummas, older women who considered it their communal duty to involve themselves in her affairs. But it seemed the rain had kept the villagers indoors this afternoon.
Haewon clutched her damp veil around her head nevertheless, grateful for the anonymity and for hiding the blush that refused to leave her cheeks.
In the silence following their conversation, she’d found herself thinking back, agitated by his earlier words.
She couldn’t believe Lord Yu, of all people, had suggested they share a saddle.
That she sit perched between his thighs.
Heavens above, the mere thought left her feeling overly warm and restless.
She walked faster, and Lord Yu matched her pace on horseback, his posture perfect, his expression far too severe for her liking.
“We’re almost there,” Haewon said, and she tried to fix her attention on the giwajip house up ahead, with its black-tiled roof and flared eaves.
Hwasadang was a residence that Mother declared must be four times the size of their own home, a compound holding two courtyards.
Haewon now remembered her mother gossiping about a young man nearby who had finally left a parent-enforced exile at a Buddhist temple to return to this modest estate after his father’s passing.
If her mother were here, she would have sworn that the talisman she’d purchased from the shaman had brought Jade and the young man together.
“You mentioned you were friends with Young Master Byeongho?” Haewon asked, determined to be conversational.
“Yes,” Lord Yu replied. “Since childhood.”
Haewon still recalled the look in Jade’s eyes, that glazed, dreamy look, as though Young Master Byeongho were the only man in the entire world. Nothing might come of this encounter … or perhaps it was the beginning of Jade’s great love story.
Unless Lord Yu intervened.
“I’m relieved that my sister is well and safe,” Haewon said, searching for a way to elevate her sister. “Jade is the best sister one could ask for.”
“I’m sure she is,” he said, sounding perfectly indifferent.
“My mother was too busy in the early years with caring for our ailing grandparents, so my sister took pity on me and Yeonhee and tutored us.”
He flicked a glance down at her. “She instructed you both?”
“Indeed.” Haewon stepped around yet another deep puddle in the road.
“Jade collected excerpts from Kim Manjung’s Madame Sa’s Conquest of the South, and The Tale of Lord Zhuge, and other beautiful and worthy sayings of the ancients.
She made us copy these texts, and so we did, mimicking her own hand.
My sister’s handwriting is extremely beautiful.
All the other women in our village seek to emulate her. ”
“And did you?”
“I did. Her handwriting is a treasure, and mine is—uniquely mine.”
Haewon continued on her campaign, boasting of how her sister was skilled in food preparation and knew how to brew soy sauce and wine, how she always took care of the seasonal outfits for the entire family and prepared elaborate meals for the ancestral service, sparing no means or effort.
“My sister takes pleasure in every kind of womanly work, doing everything with great dexterity, and bringing each task to perfection,” Haewon said, a little out of breath now.
She peeked up at Lord Yu from under her veil, wondering if she was doing a good job of convincing him that her sister was most worthy.
“And, as I shared, her handwriting is very elegant. A skill to be prized in any young woman.”
When she looked ahead again, she realized she had run out of time: They were already before Hwasadang House.
Its rooftops gleamed under the sunlit rain, beads of water slipping off the eaves.
Somehow, in what had felt like only a brief conversation, they had crossed through an entire forest and an entire field.
It was like the earth had flown beneath her as they spoke.
“Lord Yu!” a voice called out.
A manservant hurried toward them, waving an arm, his familiarity with Haewon’s companion evident. “My mistress said you both might be arriving. The little gate is flooded—come this way, through the main entrance. And here, nauri, I’ll take your horse to the stable.”
“Lord Yu is wounded,” Haewon pointed out, before she could stop herself. “He will need assistance.”
Lord Yu cleared his throat, visibly discomforted perhaps at how intimate her concern might have seemed.
The servant flicked her a curious glance before nodding. “Yes, of course.”
Haewon gripped her veil tighter as she followed the two into Hwasadang.
Wind whistled across the muddy land and whipped by her, turning her drenched veil and dress into sheets of ice.
A shudder ran down her spine. How desperately she longed to see her sister, to slip into warm, dry clothes and put this ordeal behind her.
“You’re injured, too, I see,” Young Master Byeongho said to Lord Yu as he hurried over to join them.
He bowed to Haewon. “Looks to me you both had a little tumble in the forest,” Byeongho observed, then paused as the words left his mouth.
A beat of silence followed. His ears flushed as he darted a glance at her, then back to Lord Yu.
“I—I mean, you must’ve had a fall. A proper fall. Down a slope! That’s what I meant—”
“I fell off my horse,” Lord Yu said dryly.
Haewon blinked. She had no clue as to why both gentlemen had turned red.
“Well then,” Byeongho said, still looking rather appalled with himself, “it’s a wonder you escaped with just a limp and a cut to the arm. I’m sending one of my servants to fetch a nurse and physician.”
Haewon suddenly remembered her parents. “Could your servant send a note for me, too?” she asked. “My parents are likely waiting anxiously for us.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Young Master Byeongho still looked flustered. “Ehm. There’s paper and writing utensils in the room where your sister is resting. I’ll tell the servant to wait—no, I am being silly. You’re here already.”
He summoned a servant and quickly sent him off with an order. A moment later, he ushered Haewon over to the veranda, where the servant had prepared a low table with writing utensils.
“I will send your note off instantly,” Young Master Byeongho promised. “Your parents will be reassured that your sister is in good hands. My family never turns away a traveler, and we have more than enough room in the women’s quarter for your sister to recover, as long as she needs.”
He flicked a nervous glance around as Haewon began to compose a quick note. “Very pleased that you are unharmed, Mistress Haewon,” he said, his back respectfully to her. “If you are uneasy out here in the sarangchae courtyard, you can go write in the women’s quarter.”
“No, I am fine,” Haewon replied, writing quicker. “I’m nearly done.”
“Shall I bring a folding screen? To offer you some privacy?”
She forced a smile up at him. The man was making her more anxious. “I am fine.” She waved her hand to shoo away his concern, and the brush slipped from her hand and splattered onto the floor.
Lord Yu came over in a few long strides, picked it up, and set it before her. He paused there, his eyes on her handwriting.
“You write in the palace women’s style.” He frowned, and there was a strange note in his voice. “Few do.”
“My aunt is a palace woman who was dismissed due to illness. She taught my sister. Why, does my handwriting not meet your approval?” she asked testily.
But her teasing smile melted off her face when she looked up at him.
His dark eyes bore into her, almost accusatory.
It was intense and demanding, as though she had declared something preposterous to him, something outrageous.
Young Master Byeongho let out a little laugh. “My dear friend, you will frighten poor Mistress Haewon away with that scowl—”
“I have a question,” Lord Yu said, his voice gruff. “What is your favorite flower?”
Her lips twitched at this peculiar question.
“Name it.” Desperation edged his voice. “Please.”
She had too many favorites to choose from, and this hardly seemed the place to list them—in the middle of a courtyard reserved for men.
Yet, at his insistence, she began counting them off on her fingers, then paused.
“No, indeed, I cannot name them. Anyone who knows me well knows that I love common wildflowers. They are the most inferior of flowers to scholars, who prize the plum blossom over all others, but I love them. They bring me such delight on my walks.”
“Excuse me,” he said, a little weakly now, as he abruptly turned. She watched him walk off alone, brushing his friend’s remarks aside, looking a little dumbstruck.
She couldn’t help but wonder how it was possible that the sight of her writing could make a man look so ill.