Chapter 29 #2
Haewon paused thoughtfully, then met his gaze.
“I believe we ought not to burn the bridge we might one day wish to cross. A burned bridge leaves no way back to the person we love.” She then gave a little shrug.
“And perhaps, if this incident had occurred a few months ago, I would have been entirely unforgiving. But I find myself … changed. We are only human; we are all capable of error. I, for one, am full of them. It is up to you, of course, to decide should the circumstance arise. Some bridges are meant to be burned down. But others … others are meant to be salvaged.”
Appreciation for her warmed his heart, and he wondered if she would ever come to know how deeply he cherished her thoughts. “Hmm” was all he managed to say. He finally looked ahead.
They were passing through a grove of trees that were in full bloom a few days ago, now all bare green-budded branches, the earth carpeted with their pale, muddied blossoms. Puddles glistened on the road, and birds chirped in delight, bathing, flitting their wings, and splashing up droplets that gleamed bright.
He glanced back at Haewon, wondering what she was thinking of now. They had shared dozens of letters, and he had been so convinced he knew Magpie through and through. Yet as he continued to study the woman next to him, he realized he knew very little.
“What—” He cleared his throat, trying to steady the flutter of nervousness she always induced in him. “What was Yeonhee like, growing up together? All three of you?”
A faint look of amusement brightened her expression.
“Yeonhee was passionate and playful. Curious and reckless, too. She yearns for so much from this life, and is the most loyal girl I know. Once, long ago, Jade was harassed by a village boy, and Yeonhee set out and struck the boy in the face. She is also the girl who laughs the loudest.” Haewon caught her skirt as she walked around a deep puddle.
“Her heart is as wide and deep as the sea. She will, at her own expense, strive to help her friends even to her own detriment.”
“And your elder sister, Jade?”
“She was the sunshine to me, and still is. She was like a mother when our own was overwhelmed by life.” Her lashes lowered. “Our family is not perfect. Indeed, we are far from perfect but—”
“No family is perfect.”
She offered him a wry smile. “No family is perfect, but very few families in your acquaintance, I’m sure, are as ill-mannered as mine.”
He held her gaze for a moment longer, memories stinging at his conscience.
Memories he had wished to forget entirely.
Of himself, holding his sister tight as he dragged himself across barnacle-encrusted stone, unmindful of his flesh tearing, the seawater turning red around him, until his manservant had turned pale and had yelled out that he was dripping blood.
“There’s something you should know,” he whispered.
“And what might that be?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. It seemed unfair, that he knew so much of her family’s vulnerability and shame, and she knew none of his own. “I trust you to keep this confidential.”
“Of course.” Haewon glanced behind to ascertain that her maid was out of earshot, then fixed her attention on him, all hints of amusement gone. “I promise.”
“My sister fell in love with a young man who was bold enough to woo a young widow, despite the law forbidding it, and they ran away. She later learned it was only because he attempted to blackmail our father for money, in exchange for her return. Father supplied it, and she was abandoned at an inn.”
Haewon turned pale. “How devastated your sister must have been.”
“As I said, my sister is widowed. Strictly forbidden from remarriage, from loving anyone else. When a widow dies for her husband, the government rewards the family. Her in-laws were hoping for that glory. They were pressuring her to take her own life. So you see, when she ran away with her lover, her father-in-law set out to preserve the family honor.”
She frowned up at him, waiting with intense focus for him to continue.
“Her father-in-law cornered my sister, tried to convince her to die. But she wouldn’t. So he pushed my sister off the seaside cliff.”
“The near drowning,” she whispered, to his surprise. “Your sister told me about it.”
“She did? I suppose she’s grown tired of her own silence.”
“And the father-in-law left your sister alone afterward?”
“My father had an agreement with the in-laws. He would take Gwideok home; her in-laws would no longer make any attempt to harm her, on the condition that her scandal remain hidden. That she live as though she never existed. That was the cost of preserving her life.”
Haewon shook her head, a sad look in her eyes.
“My sister has never recovered from the event. She won’t step out, for fear of resurrecting the past. People have forgotten her very existence.
She hasn’t laughed—until you came. I am indebted to you,” he said with all the warmth she inspired in him.
“It’s all I wanted, to hear her laugh again.
I suppose that is why I am here. The same kindness and mercy I wish people to treat my sister with, I wish for your own.
Your sister is alive and unharmed—that is what is most important, as of now.
Wuyeong wouldn’t think to hurt her; he would gain nothing in doing so. ”
“I hope not…”
He watched the way determination pressed Haewon’s brows together. Busy, busy Mistress Haewon. How she would do anything for the happiness of her sisters.
As they entered the capital and approached Five Willows, he thought of the magpies and crows from a childhood tale, the story of how they had woven their bodies into a bridge so that Jiknyeo and Gyeonwu, separated by the vast expanse of the Milky Way, could meet once more.
He hoped the same for Haewon. That the heavens would take pity and intervene, and build a bridge of birds to bring her sister back home.