Chapter 35
The evening drew near, and the sky had deepened into a golden blue, the clouds a drifting scatter of light.
Strolling homeward, Haewon heaved out what felt to be her hundredth sigh; the weight remained heavy in her chest. She wanted to lie down and curl up under her blanket, to cradle her aching heart.
The courier boy had returned late in the day to claim his meal, and as he’d wolfed down his brothy gukbap, he had shared his account of the delivery. Boram had turned out to be right.
“I am all astonishment.” Boram sniffed, two angry spots flushing her cheeks.
“Lord Yu knew it was from you. But the boy said so himself, didn’t he, that His Lordship read the letter with perfect indifference?
Oh, heavens, and I still have not recovered from what the boy said next.
The Minister of Rites was at His Lordship’s home!
The father of Lord Yu’s betrothed! And he left to dine with the man! Just like that!”
“At all events,” Haewon said lightly, even managing to tuck her hurt behind a smile, “Lord Yu and I have each resumed our proper station, he to his world, and I to mine. It is just as it should have always been.”
Boram scoffed with all the indignation of a scorned lover. “We should have known better. My mother always did say the hearts of men are fickle. They will fall in love fast and forget us just as soon, while we pine away for years.”
“Then you must prepare yourself, Boram-ah. I think I shall become quite intolerable.”
“Oh, agasshi…” She sniffled. “You hide your heartache too well.” Shaking her head, she dabbed at the corner of her eye.
“But I fear you’re the sort who will pine forever, and fight your parents until they permit you to live as a spinster.
Oh!” she cried. “To think, you shall live the rest of your years alone, among dusty books, your eyes growing dim as you spend entire days transcribing novels. It’s too tragic.
I cannot endure the thought of you suffering so. ”
A genuine laugh escaped Haewon. “Well, that doesn’t sound too tragic. It sounds rather delightful—” She came to an abrupt halt, realizing why she’d felt so bare this entire time. A frustrated groan escaped her. “I left them at the shop.”
“Left what?”
“I forgot my transcription work there. I promised Wol I would transcribe three copies of Yeolhailgi in the next few days.”
“You would walk all the way back to Five Willows? At this late hour? Agasshi. We can retrieve it another day—”
“I really must. I think I will lose my sanity if I have nothing to keep my mind occupied.”
Boram continued her protest as she followed, trying to keep up with Haewon’s long strides back down Jongno Street. In no time at all they arrived before Five Willows. There was a great steed tethered to a post nearby, watching them.
“I won’t be long,” Haewon said, then hurried into the shop.
Merchant Hyoyang was counting coins and paused to let out a great yawn.
Haewon quickly passed him by, knocked on the back door, and then was permitted into the secret bookshop by Wol’s assistant.
Wol was also present, casting Haewon a nod before returning to her fervent dispute with a book peddler, haggling over the cost of new and used novels.
Haewon found her transcription work, just where she had left it. After wrapping the items and hiding the sack under her veil, she rejoined her maid outside. “There, wasn’t I quick?”
“Let us go at once, agasshi, and leave this miserable day behind.” Boram sighed, gazing wistfully ahead.
“If we leave now, we’ll be home in time for the evening meal.
Mistress Myeongok said she’ll have roasted pheasant and tofu soup prepared tonight, the perfect meal to pair with the fresh greens I seasoned this morning.
And Jade said she would steam the rice cakes made with the seoki mushrooms sent by your aunt from the Mount Kumgang region.
I hear it tastes so good that even duteop rice cakes cannot match this. ”
Haewon meant to leave for home, she truly did, but she kept glancing back at the tethered horse. A distant memory lurked around the edges of her thoughts as the creature hoofed at the earth, lean muscles rippling under a silky black coat, tail swishing languidly through a cloud of gnats.
“Agasshi?”
The memory continued to drift, a haze that thickened until she felt as though she were standing in mist. The road beneath her became the mossy forest floor.
A curtain of rain fell from a canopy, and suddenly, her mind was in a drenched forest prickling with pine trees.
A gentleman sat leaning against a trunk, nursing his wounded arm, the blood fresh against his cerulean-blue robe.
His dark gaze lifted to her, and instantly, she knew who this horse belonged to.
“Boram-ah,” Haewon whispered, her voice unsteady, “I forgot one more thing—”
“Agasshi!” Boram whined. “If we don’t leave now, there will be no rice cakes left for us.”
“Here, buy yourself something to eat. Anything you want.”
Boram stared wide-eyed at the coin. “I can spend all of it? You said you were saving to purchase new shoes for Yeonhee—”
“I’ll transcribe more books. Go. I’ll return shortly.”
Heart thundering, Haewon stumbled back into Five Willows, rushing over to Merchant Hyoyang. “Ajusshi”—she could barely restrain her eagerness—“did you perhaps see Lord Yu enter this shop?”
“I wouldn’t know.” Merchant Hyoyang yawned again, tears springing from his eyes and tumbling into his beard. “I am busy all the time. Utterly exhausted now.”
Haewon stared past him, wondering if she had missed Lord Yu in her hurry to collect her transcription work.
She must have. She hoped she had, and also hoped he was still there.
A mixture of panic and anticipation constricted her heart as she made her way into the secret shop beyond, once permitted entrance again.
She inspected each aisle this time. Shadows and golden sunlight striped the floor.
The empty shelves and empty space stared back at her.
He was not here.
He had no reason to be here. There were no books to browse, and Wol was still preoccupied.
A maddening ache pierced her chest. Her spirit wilting, she dragged herself out into the open, the market clattering around her.
She was most certain that the horse belonged to Lord Yu, for there was the unmistakable constellation of small white spots scattered across the creature’s hindquarters.
Like the Bukdu Chilseong. She remembered thinking this very thought in the forest, weeks ago, while trapped under a canopy with His Lordship.
But where else could he be?
Haewon surveyed her periphery; then on a whim, she slipped between Five Willows and its neighboring merchant shop, down the passage that opened onto the desolate Pimatgol Alley, a hidden pathway walled in by the backs of other shops.
She didn’t notice him at first, and when she did, she slowed to a halt, never imagining to find him thus.
He sat pale and motionless on a crate, his forlorn figure draped in the shadow cast by the great eaves of the Five Willows shop.
His shoulders were slumped, long arms hanging over his knees, his head lowered and his brooding gaze fixed.
The hard lines of his face were made sharper by the fading light, and his brows were knitted over eyes that appeared tired, lost, and very sad.
The gentleman who seemed to never lose mastery over himself now looked utterly disheveled.
His hat hung from the hat string tied around his neck, resting behind his back, as if he’d pushed it off in the heat of frustration.
His robe was wind whipped and mud splattered.
As she took a step forward, Lord Yu at last turned his eyes and looked at her. She fidgeted with the books in her arms as she stood before his uncomprehending shock.
“Haewon-ah,” he whispered incredulously.
“Are you … are you waiting for Wol—?”
Three long strides brought him to her, and he halted, uncertain. “The courier boy gave me your note, and I knew you must have written to me from Five Willows,” he whispered, his gaze intent upon her. “I came here as soon as I could. I thought I had missed you.”
“So you read my silly letter…” She lowered her lashes, playing with the knot of the travel sack. “You must find my conduct very unbecoming of a lady.”
The silence intensified, and she sought desperately for something to say to relieve the tension of the moment.
But before she could think of anything, her mind went quiet as he reached out and tucked a strand of her hair back beneath her veil.
She looked up again, the reflection of herself held in the pool of his eyes, illuminated by the golden skylight.
“I find your conduct, Mistress Haewon, to be utterly—outrageously—bewitching,” his voice rasped. He lifted the wrapped books from her arms and tucked them into his. “You needn’t answer me now, but I hope there is room for me in your heart, or I fear I shall wander entirely lost forever.”
Her eyes burned. This moment felt too dreamlike to be true. She must have fallen into another tale entirely.
“And it will become my greatest regret if I do not tell you this,” he spoke on, his frown returning. “I wish for you to know that I truly regret the words I said to you at the pavilion.”
“But you were not wrong,” Haewon whispered. “To be associated with my family would leave you open to censure—”
“It would be no sacrifice to be with you; it’s what I choose and what I want.
It’s what I desire. And rather, the sacrifice would be on your end, to bind yourself to an insufferable man like me, and to a family riddled with secrets and errors.
” He looked away, a muscle working in his jaw.
“My father nearly ruined you, though unintentionally so.”