⁝ hong residence.

@❁ hong yeoreum "But Mother, do you not think that Yeoreum deserves something of her own for her wedding?" comes Areum's quick reply. The smile remains on her lips, although, like her mother, it does not reach her eyes. Such a thing has been a difficult feat these days, her lips far too used to the cordial simpers she would send her clients' way whenever they so much as looked her way. This, she has gotten used to. These conversations, the underlying tone of 'your things must be cursed' never unnoticed on her ears. She knows what they think, and she understands it, really.

Two marriages. She's had two husbands, and nothing worked out. Perhaps she has been doomed from the start, really. Her first wedding was not out of love, but merely out of obligation. She had one task as the eldest daughter of the family, and that was to marry well, make a family that would make her father finally happy with her, but she failed even at that. And the moment she's gotten a chance at love...

She almost laughed, but she keeps her face free of her internal turmoil. "It would be better if Yeoreum gets a wedding dress of her own, wouldn't it? It's a very important day for her; we wouldn't want to ruin it by making her wear mine."

"But, Areum-ah," her mother says, "the fabric of your dress is one of the finest we've ever had. I'm sure you've kept it properly managed."

Has she? Areum doesn't know. She can't remember the last time she's seen it. She can't even remember the last time she's looked at it. Her last wedding hadn't been as fancy nor as grand as her first, but it was... a wonderful memory. (Bittersweet, her mind adds unhelpfully, for those smiles have gone and disappeared.) But still, she cannot let Yeoreum wear her wedding dress. It feels as though she's passing on a curse she knows doesn't exist (but what if it does? What if she's meant to be alone, to watch her sisters make their families while she grieved the ones she's lost?).

"I... I am not certain, Mother. It hasn't really been in my mind in the recent... years," Areum answers hesitantly. "But as much as possible, I'd like for Yeoreum to wear something that's created for her, rather than wear my hand-me-downs. That way, the day would even be more special. Right, Yeoreum-ah?"

@❁ hong gureum [h] In the quiet of the night, Jang Ilwoo lay beside Gureum, his chest rising and falling in sync with the cadence of his breath. The room around them was steeped in shadows, the muted tones of its décor lending an air of somber elegance to the space. Despite the decorum of his surroundings, the room felt strangely empty, save for the flickering candle on the bedside table, its wavering light casting dancing shadows across the walls.

Ilwoo's bare chest still heaved with the remnants of their exertions, the strain of their passionate encounter still palpable in the air. He lay there, his body tingling with the echoes of their intimacy, yet devoid of the desire for further closeness. Cuddling was not his inclination, even in moments of post-deed bliss. Instead, he lay there, his mind clouded with thoughts.

Relief washed over him, mingling with a sense of satisfaction as he basked in the aftermath of their lovemaking. Gureum's presence beside him brought a temporary respite from the weight of his familial expectations, a brief escape from the pressures of his prestigious lineage. Yet, even as he savored the moment, his thoughts drifted inexorably to another.

/Her/ image lingered in his mind like a haunting melody, her soft laughter echoing in the recesses of his memory. He could still see the curve of her smile, the sparkle in her eyes as they conversed. She was a vision of beauty and grace, a woman who captivated him like no other.

Despite his best efforts to push her from his thoughts, she remained a constant presence, her memory woven into the fabric of his being. He longed to reach out to her, to feel the warmth of her embrace, but he knew it was futile. She was beyond his grasp, a forbidden fruit that he dared not pluck.

As he lay there, lost in reverie, Ilwoo's gaze wandered to the candle on the bedside table, its flickering flame casting a soft glow over the room. It was a solitary beacon in the darkness, a small reminder of the world outside their private sanctuary.

In the stillness of the night, with Gureum's warmth beside him and the flickering candle casting dancing shadows on the walls, Ilwoo found himself at a crossroads. He was torn between two worlds—the world of his family, with its rigid expectations and unyielding traditions, and the world of his own desires, with its promise of freedom and fulfillment.

He caught her looking at him, as thought she could see through him. "Sorry, just, random thoughts." He leaned over for another peck on her lips.

@❁ hong yeoreum while the capital prepares, jinyoung weaves through the morning rush in the bustling wet market with a sealed jar of maesil-cheong in his arms and a certain acupuncturist in his mind. word of the ahn’s upcoming final harvest festival sets hanseong abuzz with excitement. as it draws near, there is a little more pep in everyone’s steps, throngs of customers flocking to hanbok and cosmetic shops to look their very best for the celebration, and lively chatter in anticipation of what’s to come.

he pays them as little heed as he does to the enthusiastic traders peddling their wares. not one for such events, the mercenary feels his entire body protest at remembering the seollal gala- the last time a prickly miss kwon and him were blindly strung together in the same sentence. that went swimmingly well. once bitten, twice shy; ever since then, he’d completely sworn off any public social arrangements of the romantic nature. and dancing. no other person should have to suffer his painfully awkward limb coordination the way bora did.

which is why, when yeoreum extends an invitation to him to accompany her to the ahn estate, his first instinct is to decline. while they have gotten sufficiently acquainted in the platonic sense for the past three years, and how time flies, what does that make of them? a man and a woman of marriageable age, unmarried, seen together. although the good name of the house of fallen peony has been dragged through the mire, then buried six feet underneath for good measure, and there is no prospect to sully, his good friend is looking to marry into a respectable household. some semblance of propriety should be observed, no?

jinyoung catches himself nagging like a crabby old man thrice his age, and halts his long-winded thought process in favour of the slight tugging at his sleeves. “please… i don’t want to go alone.” damn, she’s infuriating. infuriatingly adorable. he was about to suggest her older sisters, areum and gureum as he soon learnt after a few more sessions of acupuncture, as a more fitting chaperone, but anything he thought of, it must have crossed yeoreum’s mind first. it would do no good to hurt her with that can of worms right now.

the moment yeoreum peppers her persistent persuasion with “it will be fun, i promise! there’s good food and… and music and… please.” and that frustrated little pout, jinyoung knows he is done for. yeoreum, one, jinyoung, zero. “ahhh- aish.” he reluctantly relents. if his heart softens any further, it will take on the texture of a sundubu. he clears his throat, tips of his ears reddening at what he is about to say, but he supposes he can indulge her just this once- “well then, shall i pick you up at five, my lady?”

[timeskip to the ahn estate]
(yes, let’s go way shorter for the actual event TT may i suggest we start with stepping foot into the ahn estate? then we can write a little about their journey on foot within our replies.)
(aaaaaaaa edited a phrase out because it kept bothering me how ooc it is, i posted that earlier while on a rush to head out, it should be all good now).

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@❃ heo jinyoung (starting here, then we move to ahn estate ig)

Despite the threat of a poor harvest, the city was still excited to celebrate the end of a season. Everyone from Yangban to Cheonmin was talking about the festivities at the Ahn estate, speculating about what there would be, whom to go with, what to wear... The gossip mill was alive and buzzing and Yeoreum... Yeoreum was feeling very disheartened. The last event she had attended had been the Ryu wedding. She had dressed up and had been excited to meet people, only to be too scared to mingle with anyone and getting mocked by her sister.

She didn't want to go and experience that again. She didn't want to stay home either. Gureum would probably mock her for that too. So... she had to go, but there was no way she was going with her sisters. Gureum was mean, and Areum... she didn't want to be seen with Areum. After a lot of back and forth with herself, she had decided to ask mister Heo. Was it unorthodox? Very. But when they interacted it was always pleasant, and Yeoreum felt secure around him. Besides, it was not a formal event. Anyone could attend, so it was absolutely fine to go with a Cheonmin. They were just friends after all. ...Yeoreum still remembered when she'd looked at him and seen more than just a customer, just a friend. When she'd snuck an extra glance, smiled an extra smile...

Three years had passed already since then. To think she already knew him for such a long time!

"Perhaps...", she started, glancing at him with a small nervous smile as she wrapped up her needles after another session. "Might you be free to attend the festivities at the Ahn estate?"

(sorry kinda overdid it with the length, please feel free to respond with a shorter post. my next one will be a lot shorter)

@❁ hong areum (btw feel free to rp the mom as well; I'm trying to make the mom's attitude towards areum fit your description of it on your profile but ofc you would be more accurate)

Yeoreum could tell her mother was about to chastise her again, but she wouldn't back down this time. Not when the topic was her wedding dress. Her stress levels were rising fast again. Luckily, Areum spoke up in her favour. She glanced at her and back at her mother, trying to read her expression to understand how much her mother would push the topic today. Then, as Areum continued to speak, a frown appeared on her face. She looked at Areum, a fresh wave of something lighting up her eyes. It irritated her the way her eldest sister was speaking about herself. It made her angry, even. She was speaking badly about herself, insinuating that her things weren't worthy of being used by Yeoreum. Why did that make Yeoreum so angry? She wasn't sure. All she knew was that it annoyed her. She didn't like it when Areum spoke badly about herself. It hurt to see how a loving, warm person had become increasingly self-deprecating. Was it partly Yeoreum's fault for how she treated her eldest sister? Yes, definitely. And still, she didn't like it. Yeoreum was allowed to insult her. Areum shouldn't insult herself. Hm... no, she should insult herself a little, she deserved that, but not too much. Just a little bit.

"Silly girl. Your wedding gown was splendid. Moreover, where could we hope to find a fabric as fine?", the woman smiled at her first daughter. A warm smile, loving, but shallow. It did not have quite the same depth as when she looked at Yeoreum, much less Gureum. Much like how water was water, yet a pond was no lake.

Yeoreum frowned, lips pinching. How badly she wanted to say 'If I have to wear that, I'm not getting married at all!' but she did not dare to speak those words. It would be akin to blasphemy. Her entire identity in her family was sculpted around her desire for marriage. Over years and years, Yeoreum had woven herself into her a cage. It was warm and safe inside, and her mother would love her as long as she stayed put, but it was still a cage. Yeoreum was far too cowardly to step outside of the identity she had built for herself.

@❃ heo jinyoung Dusk had settled in across the vast city. The sky was lit up with beautiful colours, casting a warm glow on anyone who cared to admire it. After her client had fallen asleep, which was by no means uncommon, she had left to let him rest and instead taken a seat on the other side of house. It wasn't good to watch people sleep, and he surely could use the rest. Yeoreum was happy to withdraw into her own world and admire the beauty it offered. Nature was her favourite source of beauty. It was free, wondrous and available to anyone willing to look. 'I wonder how many people are looking up at the sky right now.', Yeoreum thought to herself. Her mind filled with images of farmers stopping to admire the sunset, a shopowner stepping outside and raising a hand to shield his face from the Sun, a young master out riding stopping his horse to soak in the peace... Perhaps even the Queen was looking up at it right now. Like her. Yeoreum smiled, teeth sinking into her lower lip.

The house was small and she heard the familiar rattling of coins in the poach, signalling that Mister Heo was awake. Yeoreum rose to her feet, brushed some strands of hair back into place and headed out to greet him. It was a good thing he was her last client for the day. He greeted her with praise and Yeoreum responded with a delighted smile.

Her gaze flickered to the coins waiting for her on the short table. She quickly looked away and smiled bashfully, tugging on the tips of her sleeve with her fingertips. Despite the years of working and earning money she still felt uncomfortable with it. Even in hard times when she could use every extra nyang, it was very important to her that she didn't express any attachment to the money she earned. It was... embarrassing. "I'm sure it's just right.", she said softly and smiled at him. She never counted the money and only when it couldn't be avoided accepted it with her own hands. Otherwise, she would wait for the patient to leave and then pocket the money. A stupid thing to fixate on to money, surely. This was Yeoreum's silly way of holding on to her 'pride'.

"Do you have to go?", she asked, her voice steady as she attempted to mask her desire for company. "I got some peaches the other day.", she added trying to lure him into staying a bit longer. Peaches were hard to get these days. One of her wealthy patrons had gifted her some. Yeoreum had given one to her mother, but she still had two more and no one to split it with. An excuse, of course. It had been a quiet day, it was a beautiful evening and she wanted to talk to someone.

@✿ seol minhwan even as minhwan wiped away the tears from areum's cheeks, it felt as though they still continued to fall. she had simply stood where she was, watching his visage through her tears, sight blurry as she blinked repeatedly. the way he touched her was gentle, careful, that she could not imagine being loved in the same way as he loved her by anyone else. she could not imagine someone else in his place, loving her so gently that she could almost believe that with him by her side, things would be alright. things would eventually fall into the place where they should be: him, by her side, and her, in his arms.

her lips parted, words dancing at the tip of her tongue, but her lower lip quivered as tears continued to fall, no matter how much he tried to wipe them away. even when he began speaking, a plan for a tomorrow that might not even come for them anymore (because then, there would be no 'them;' there would no longer be minhwan and areum), tears trailed down the skin of her cheeks without pause.

how could she even live a life without him? how could she spend her days without him?

her arms wrapped around him the moment she was pulled into an embrace. his warmth covered her, and if this were any other time, then perhaps just his mere presence—just his arms around her would have been more than enough to calm her down, to ease the tears. but his embrace only reminded her of what she was about to lose, and she found herself holding onto him as though he was her lifeline, as if her life depended on it.

if she held onto him tightly enough, then perhaps no one would be able to separate them.

how could she tell him? how could she tell him of the news that would certainly break them both? she didn't even know where to begin. 'talk to me,' he said, not knowing what plagued her like this.

where would she even begin? how would she even tell him that she was now bethrothed to another, despite the many promises to each other? the world itself had thought it would be /them/. she had spent daydreaming of the day they wedded one another, fueled further by the teasing of her peers and words of the adults around her that had sounded like a promise back then.

was this a cruel joke, she wondered, or was this simply a price she had to pay? disappointment came with her birth—was this her father's way of making her pay for her existence? that wasn't fair.

instead of answering, she hid her face by his neck. "... run away with me," she said, so quietly, so lowly, almost inaudible with how softly she had whispered it.

@❁ hong areum sometimes there were days that seemed better than most.

the sun shone brighter than usual that made it just slightly warmer. the ideal weather for a walk outside that allowed one to enjoy a chill that would soon be desired in the following months. during his stroll to the palace the young count of gangneung had to stop, noticing the way the powdery snow rested on a particular tree’s branches, decorating them in place of the fallen leaves from the last season. there was a certain brilliance in the shades of white that surrounded him, even if snow was snow and should had been a singular tone to the average eye. the crunch underneath each step brought a certain satisfaction, requiring one to slow down their pace for such results. that morning he was already counting down the hours until his day was over and the steps he needed to take so he could rush to the hong estate, but minhwan wished that time could pause so he could take in the beauty that he often had little time to appreciate.

perhaps, there was not a reason to until now. beauty came in the form of hong areum. she was his childhood friend and sweetheart. the same little girl that made his heart race the moment their eyes locked, at first assuming it was another childish reaction that was natural between young boys and girls. yet, those flutters in his stomach never went away, only maturing to something deeper and spreading down to his soul, to love.

it was this same love that had him overcome his nerves and cowardice, confessing his feelings after all the years that passed. it was this same love that had him waiting for the chance to propose to her. with her birthday passing, his patience whittled at a speed he could not control, unsure if he could wait another day to spend the rest of his life with her.

however, there was a reason for such a moment that morning. the world was always more radiant before loss. a cruel joke to leave this sort of memory behind before a disaster. in the dying light, minhwan stood there, not knowing that the beauty and light of his life was to soon disappear.

“areum, you don’t have to act like everything is fine. it’s me.” his voice was soft as he took a step closer to her. this distance allowed him to see her tears better, dropping his usual stoic mask he around others in the court, revealing a frown that he could not hide. without hesitation, he reached for her hand to settle it next to her side, “you’ll get cold if you keep wiping. let me help you.”

not too long after he had his handkerchief out, patting her hand gently. he made sure to dry off any possible spot. wiping away the tears with careful along her cheek, he cursed to himself mentally even as he tried to assure her, “i’m sorry. i didn’t think they would hold us back that late. you know what, i’m leaving early tomorrow. i’ll ask your father if we can watch the sunset. we’ll have tea and eat nearby. i’ll make sure to bring you home before your-”

despite the smile that gradually grew as he started to plan for the next day, he sighed when he came to a certain realization. instead, minhwan could only wrap his arms around areum, pulling her close. with their bodies pressed against one another, he knew that he was born just for her. for one, how her body fit with his like two pieces of an infinite puzzle. rubbing her back slowly up and down, he pecked the top of her head and murmured there, “was it your parents again? what’s wrong? talk to me.”

@❁ hong yeoreum jinyoung jolted awake to swift gallops overrunning the rackety noise of carriage wheels haphazardly forced over bumps and pocks of narrow paths sprawled across the sangmin settlement. against his personal reservations about letting his guard down around people, yeoreum’s skilful manipulation of needles had coaxed him into a much-needed gentle slumber on a plain straw mat. since the resident acupuncturist was noticeably absent, he instinctively swept his eyes over his right elbow, where phantom tingles remained in place of sharp, thin metals.

refreshed, he made himself proper, unrolling his sleeves and stretching like a lazy cat in the process. glancing at the muted purplish-orange canvas above where dusk has just fallen, jinyoung reached into the folds of his white cheollik and retrieved a pouch of nyangs, which he then rested on the short wooden table in front of yeoreum’s humble abode.

meticulous with money, the mercenary had made it his priority to discuss payment and treatment options upon first consultation, so he could budget appropriately with little that he had. before he’d found yeoreum, whispers from the back alleys had suggested cheaper alternatives offered by unpractised acupuncturists and physicians, but he had more than a few instances of foolish desperation that taught him that you get what you pay for.

“impeccable work as always, miss hong. let me know if it’s short.” he nodded politely at yeoreum as she emerged from her living quarters.

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@❁ hong yeoreum If one were to ask Areum, she would say that she could no longer remember a time when her mother and sister had not looked at her the way they did now. Had they looked at her another way nearly a decade ago? Or had this always been present, but she had only been too blind to notice? Perhaps it was the rather eventful night she had just had, or the exhaustion of this week was finally catching up to her, but the world had felt rather... distant at this moment, as though the voices of the people around her were far from her despite them being so close.

She watched as Yeoreum bit on her nails, her brows furrowing slightly at the sight. Since when had her sister developed such habits? But was it still well within her right to chide her youngest sister about her habits, she wondered. The thought did not last for long, however, as the two ladies before her continued their affections for one another. And was it normal to feel like an outsider inside one's own home?

(Or perhaps, her home had died somewhere in Isan, years ago. Perhaps her home had never been here.)

Areum could feel Yeoreum's glare even as she focused her eyes on her food. Her mother had never been one to pressure her daughters into marriage, but the fall of their family had changed it, Areum supposed. The pressure to marry was even stronger now, perhaps even more so for their youngest. There was no one who would marry Areum now, at this age and her inability to... birth children. There was no one who would marry Areum now, who had had two failed marriages.

(And there was no one else Areum would rather marry, than the one who had owned her heart since the very beginning.)

But the sudden raise of Yeoreum's voice caught Areum's attention rather easily, and she raised her head to look at Yeoreum, who now looked to be at the verge of crying. What was it? Bad luck? Yeoreum called her wedding dress bad luck? Normally, she would chide Yeoreum for being superstitious, but...

She did not even know how to feel about that. Perhaps Yeoreum was right. Perhaps she was truly cursed. If she wasn't, then the family wouldn't have fallen.

With a soft breath, she spoke, "it is better if Yeoreum were to wear a new dress, Mother." She placed her spoon down into the bowl, her gaze dropping. "It will not do her well if... if she were to use my old dress. She needs something new and more beautiful. Do you not think that she will need something better than mine, Mother?"

@❁ hong areum (turned out longer than planned-- also, i write character thoughts in the same line as descriptions of the situation as everything is from their perspective. I'm not writing it with the intention of making it an objective fact-- everything is *extremely* subjective and skewed from the perspective of yeoreum... just FYI)

Hearing her mother say Areum was growing thinner by the day, a strange panic flared up in Yeoreum's heart. Her gaze darted to her eldest sister's frame. As she looked her over, searching for confirmation of her mother's words, venom sparked in her eyes. Her mother was right. Areum has gotten thinner. Why wasn't she eating properly? Putting money aside, she had enough friends who could afford to feed her. Why wasn't she taking care of herself? Had she gotten thinner because of her? Because she often excluded Areum's portion from the meals she prepared when it was her turn to cook? Yeoreum bit down on the inside of her cheek. She felt... anger at her eldest sister for letting herself go. It was more comfortable this way, to feel anger. It masked the guilt and enabled her to continue in her ways. Yeoreum was a stubborn girl. Areum had always been a bit--- unconventional, what with eloping and getting pregnant before being married. Definitely not a role model or how the first daughter should behave, in Yeoreum's opinion. Still, she had married a respectable person both times, and it was terribly romantic that they had eloped. That much Yeoreum had been able to accept. The fall of the family was a different story, and Yeoreum, distressed by her sudden change in circumstances, had found an easy target to blame. The seed of contempt that Yeoreum had sown in her heart then had grown into a small tree and now that it was there, stubborn as she was, she could not bring herself to uproot it even though at times, she wondered if her sister truly deserved her treatment.

It was easier not to think about things like that. It was easier to have contempt for Areum. Usually. Realising now that her sister had been losing weight made her... conflicted. Perhaps she should have given all the dried meat to Areum? No, her mother needed it too. Her mother was sick. Was Areum sick too? Did she inherit whatever her mother had? A second flare of panic shot up in her heart. No, no. Sitting next to her mother, Yeoreum raised a hand and bit down on her fingernail, gnawing at it until her mother slapped her hand away from . "Such a bad habit, Yeoreum. You need to stop! Who would marry a girl with such ugly nails?" Yeoreum bit down on the inside of her cheek, remorse and guilt flooding her expression. She nodded quickly and leaned into her mother, her arms moving to wrap around her. "You're right. I'm sorry, mother. I'll be careful." How badly she wanted to check the state of her nails, to see if they were truly so horrid, but it was better not to. Her mother might see them again and be disappointed. Yeoreum looked over at Areum who was slowly eating her food.

If Areum had been taking care of herself, she wouldn't have gotten nervous. Then she wouldn't have bitten her nails. Then mother wouldn't have been disappointed. How hard could it be to just eat?? She couldn't even do that properly! Yeoreum glared at her eldest sister. Now that this had happened, the conversation between her and mother had fizzled out too. It was all Areum's fault. She'd ruined a perfectly nice morning. "You need to be more mindful, Yeoreum.", her mother continued, "You're not a child anymore. You're 24. You should aim to get married this year, or you'll be too old and might have issues like your sister had. Pretty nails are just as important as a pretty face." Her mother's tone was warm and soft. She was trying to be helpful and Yeoreum nodded along obediently, the sea of anxiety she had buried in her soul since birth steadily growing more tumultuous. "You're right mother, I'm sorry. I won't do it again." Yeoreum glanced at Areum again without knowing why. "But don't worry too much, Sunshine. You're a pretty, well-behaved girl. You will surely find a nice husband." Her mother kissed her temple, bringing a happy smile to Yeoreum's lips. The kiss and the return to her nickname relieved an unseen burden from her heart and she breathed out in relief. Eager to gain more love from her mother, Yeoreum opened up a topic she knew elicited a positive reaction from the elders in their clan... and also happened to be one she found fun to talk about. "Mother, I saw such a lovely fabric on the market the other day. It would make a really nice wedding dress!" Her Mother laughed. "Another one? At this rate, you will have 10 dresses to wear." Yeoreum grinned. "I just want to make sure it's the perfect one~", she smiled shyly and, once again, glanced at Areum, again not knowing herself why. "You'll be the most beautiful bride, Sunshine.", her mother cooed. "Do we still have your old wedding dress, Areum? Perhaps we could reuse the fabric." Yeoreum was instantly enraged at the proposition. "I don't want to wear that!!! It's bad luck!!!!" Her reaction went beyond a bratty whine, tears sprang into her eyes, her voice rising in volume. Yeoreum happened to be, among other things, very superstitious.

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@❁ hong yeoreum Of course, Areum does not miss it—the difference between the ways her mother refers to her and her younger sister. It is as plain as day, and Areum wonders not for the first time, if her mother has truly hated her so. While the gaze their mother carries for Yeoreum is sweet, soft and loving, the one she holds for Areum is... perhaps strained is not the word to use, but alongside that is a sort of bitterness that she does her best to hide. Sometimes Areum does not see it—pretends not to—when her mother finds it in herself to smile at her eldest daughter. Sometimes her mother manages to hide it well, as though loving Areum is as natural as loving her youngest daughter.

But her mother is quite bad at lying, see. And Areum knows her mother like the back of her hand. Areum is her mirror image, after all, and her mother is her future. Areum knows this, has long come to this realization—and in turn, an understanding that her mother still loves her. It is simply not as easy as it is when it comes to Areum's sisters.

Her lower lip quivers slightly, and she bites at its inside. She does not hear their conversation, her attention not on their words but on their forms. The lack of distance between their figures speaks of their closeness, of an intimacy that Areum has not felt in such a long, long time. She wonders then, if her mother and her sister have always been this close, even before their fall from grace, or if their hatred for her has made them bond all the more.

She almost does not catch her mother's words. Food, she hears, and yet the word does not trigger her hunger. Instead, the stomping of her sister kills her appetite rather easily, and Areum forces a smile.

"It is alright, Mother. I am not hungry," she says, but her mother waves her hand dismissively.

"No, Areum-ah," her mother says firmly, a frown tugging at her lips. "You must eat. You are becoming thinner by the day."

"But I..."

A bowl is shoved into Areum's chest, and her hands are quick to grasp onto it. She glances at the bowl, sighing quietly to herself as she utters her gratitude. But she does not sit, not yet. She takes a moment to stand where she is, wonders whether she fits the image that Yeoreum and their mother paint at this moment.

Does she even belong here, still? She does not know, but eventually, she sits near them. Not too close, but not too far. It is enough to assume that she is part of the conversation, but not enough for her to join. She hopes that this is fine, and that they would not mind. Slowly, she begins to eat, despite her little to nonexistent appetite.

@✿ seol minhwan —— [ dated: early 1862 ; the hong estate's garden ] ——


The evening's icy veil turned to be even colder as it grazed the skin of Areum's cheeks. There was hollow where warmth usually laid within her chest, but as she held her intertwined hands to up to her lips, dread filled it like a dam had been opened within. No matter how much she breathed against the skin of her fingers, the cold stayed, and with it dread. Frustration, as tears danced at the corners of her eyes, threatening to fall at any moment's notice. What was meant to be a sweet evening had turned bitter at the announcement her father made this morning.

She remembered vividly the way her father had coldly turned to her. Her mother had kept her low then, which should have told Areum of an ominous near future. But how should she have known? How should she have known, when her days had been colored roses by the presence of her beloved? How should she have known that these rose-colored days would come to an end by the hands of her own father?

Betrayal was a bitter taste on her tongue, while her father wielded it sharply. He had known, hadn't he? He had to have known that his eldest daughter's heart had been in someone's hold for the longest time, had been in Minhwan's hold even before she knew what it meant. And yet still, he chose to crush her heart—

"Hong Areum, you are to be wed to—"

And the name that fell was not the name of her love. Her heart had shattered—she did not know the exact moment the world turned completely silent, only the echo of his father's words consuming her mind. The world had turned cold in an instant. Oh, how easy it was for her father to change her life any way he desired. Was it truly this easy for him to make her wed a man she had barely talked to? Was it truly this easy for him to send his eldest daughter—the one he wished so desperately to be a man—to a stranger?

Perhaps so. Areum would not understand. She did not /want/ to understand. How was she to imagine a future with a stranger when she had spent her childhood dreaming for one with her beloved?

She should have known. She should have known that she was not fit to be her beloved's wife. She had heard whispers, but she had hoped that perhaps, the gods would listen to her prayers. She had dared hope.

But what was she if not a child of failure? What was she, if not a doll made to dance at the whims of her father for she was born a woman?

"Oh... Minhwan..." A tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another, and she covered with her palm, swallowing down her gasps as she kept her cries silent—or she tried to. Her beloved was visiting; she should not greet him with tears. She should greet him with a smile, like always.

But how was she to smile, when her life had been sealed without her say so? Oh, gods, how was she supposed to tell her beloved?

@❁ hong areum "I'm not being silly", Yeoreum whined and tugged at her mother's sleeve. "He's very handsome... and looks so polite. Mother, you would like him. No, don't you remember him? You've met him too, mother!" Playful chit chatter filled the house, mostly Yeoreum blabbering away about this and that. She was a chatty, joyful girl still despite their changed circumstances. It had not always been this way. The first years had been very hard on Yeoreum whose future had changed dramatically almost from one day to another. She barely ate back then, refused to leave the house or help with any of the chores. From dawn till dusk she hid in her mother's lap like a child and cried or picked fights with Areum. She had said some horrible things to her sister back then. She didn't remember what she had said, but sometimes she would get a nagging feeling of guilt in her heart. Yeoreum typically ignored it. Well, things were better now. After all, she still had her mother who would her hair and look at her with a gaze as warm and reassuring as the Sun. "You'll see, mother. He's the one. I can tell.", Yeoreum hummed with the shy, bashful smile of a girl fresh in love. Her mother laughed weakly and kissed her temple. "I'm sure he is, Sunshine."

Their conversation fades into a pleasant silence, but it doesn't last for long. A familiar voice disrupts the amicable atmosphere in the house. Yeoreum's expression tightens. She does not turn to face Areum, but her mother shifts to turn and smile at her eldest sister. "Welcome home.", her mother's tone was polite. To some it might sound warm, but there was a world of difference between the smile she granted Areum and the warm gaze she held for Yeoreum. "Come, have some food. Yeoreum has made breakfast." Yeoreum, still not facing Areum, frowned unhappily. She had not, in fact, made food for Areum. She had only ladled two bowls, one for mother and one for her second sister who was still fast asleep. "I didn't make it for her.", Yeoreum whispers softly, but loud enough for both her mother and her sisters to hear. Her mother, ever the kind matriarch of the family even in sickness, caressed Yeoreum's cheek. "Go get your sister some food, Sunshine." Yeoreum didn't budge. "She can get it herself." At this point, she was just being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn. She hated doing anything for Areum. She didn't think she owed her sister anything. No, in fact, Areum should be the one serving Yeoreum. After all, Areum had ruined her life. Ah, but Yeoreum's resentment was no match for her mother's chastising look. Huffing and puffing, she stomped outside past her sister but without looking at her and sloppily ladled some rice gruel into a bowl.

Yeoreum paused and looked down into the bowl. Pretty lips pressed together into a thin line. Without a sound she ladled a little more into the bowl and then placed a pile of seasonal vegetables on top. A certain something was burning in her pocket. She was still turned away from Areum so her sister would not see what she was doing. Her heart sped in her chest. The bowl in one hand she reached into her hand and pulled out a small packet. Within the cloth was dried meat she had gotten as a gift from one of her clients the day before. Yeoreum snuck a large piece into the rice gruel and carefully covered it up so it would not be visible before actually tucking into the dish. Then, she turned, walked back and shoved the bowel against Areum's chest. "Here.", she said curtly, a glare in her eyes and promptly scurried back to her mother's side. "Mother, mother, look I forgot I had this. Have some~ I got this from Lady Tang yesterday.", she chirped away and put the remaining dried meat into her mother's bowl.

@❁ hong yeoreum Exhaustion is evident in a lady's stride as she walks down the familiar roads to her home. She carries with her a paper umbrella, resting upon her shoulder. There is no rain, no, and the sun has not risen yet, but she finds an odd sort of comfort in the shade that the umbrella brings to her. Almost as though it gives her a momentary reprieve from the prying eyes of strangers, who may or may not find her visage familiar. While she does not often shy away from conversations with others—strangers and acquaintances alike—she finds herself a bit more tired after a rather... long night of conversations that had required skillful use of wits and words. She does not usually mind, really, this job of hers. One does get accustomed to it, especially when it is almost three years when she's started working here.

But there is a different sort of exhaustion that bores itself into her, heavy on her shoulders as she finally reaches her home. It is still quite early, but the ladies of what is left of the Hong family have already started working, it seems. A faint smile finds its way to her lips, and she enters the abode, her smile only growing. She folds her umbrella then, carefully entering as she tries not to cause too much noise, not wanting to disturb her mother and sisters, if some of them are still sleeping.

She easily finds her family, her sister who is leaning against her mother. Where Areum stands, they do not see her. Their backs are facing her, and her smile wavers. She does not move yet, only staring at them with a pair of glassy eyes. Her hands find one another by her front, and they clench lightly into fists. She takes a deep breath, before she speaks, voice soft and quiet as though afraid to break what has enveloped them this morning, "a good morning to you, my dearest mother and sister."

Her gaze softens, and the melancholy disappears from her visage. "I am home."

@❁ hong areum The Sun was just beginning to rise when Yeoreum sat up from her makeshift bed. She looked to her left and saw her mother resting, and her sister. There was one bed empty. As usual. Sleep heavy in her eyes and in every movement she made, she pushed herself up. Silently she made her way to the larder, then to the stove outside. Every step was ingrained in her memory. As she lifted up a pail of water she had fetched the day before and poured it into the pot with the rice, as she squatted down to stoke the fire, as she stirred the rice gruel Yeoreum was still half asleep. It was only when the smoke of the fire became too much for her eyes that the fog in her mind began to clear. Tears sprung from her eyes as she continued to stir the cooking gruel. 'I hate this.', she thought to herself and dabbed at her teary eyes with the rough cotton sleeve of the clothes she wore for sleep and chores. People all around were awake and starting to prepare the small morning meal that would be eaten before everyone left for work. She could hear their soft mutterings as they started their day. They sounded... accustomed to the work ahead of them. Yeoreum was accustomed to it too and the thought brought more tears to her eyes. Every day, every morning, she would wake up and grieve their circumstances.

She hated the shabby brick walls and the straw roofs, the cheap floormats and even cheaper cutlery, the rough clothes and all the labour they had to perform. Her hands were supposed to be soft and white, her clothes soft and warm... someone was supposed to be making breakfast for her... Yeoreum sniffled and dabbed away more tears, taking care not to rub her eyes lest she got any wrinkles. Despite her whimpering, she carried on with her work. She ladled the rice gruel into bowls and carefully put some seasonal greens her sister had brought yesterday on top. She left one next to her sleeping sister and took the other and knelt next to her mother. "Wake up", Yeoreum whispered softly, still crying, still whimpering. As usual, her mother was already awake. Her mother, so beautiful despite her poor health, opened her eyes and when that warm gaze fell on Yeoreum's face, she felt her heart calm. "Why are you crying again silly...", her mother chastised softly. Her hand came to rest on Yeoreum's cheek and Yeoreum whimpered pitifully in response, yearning for more words of affection that her mother was always willing to provide. Yeoreum didn't reply and instead leaned down to pull her mother into a gentle embrace. "There there, it's alright", her mother hummed as she wrapped her arms around her youngest daughter. Her mother kissed Yeoreum's temple and whispered a thank you for making a breakfast. Yeoreum sat up and nodded, wiping away the last of her tears and helped her mother sit up straight. Nearly every morning they would repeat this play. What followed too was the same as always. Her mother would eat the rice gruel while Yeoreum would lean against her and tell her about the day she had ahead. Which houses she'd be visiting today, what chores she had to do, which handsome Yangbans she was looking forward to catching a glimpse of again, and which rich old ladies seemed to like her most.