⁝ promenade.

@✿ seol riah Sungha cocked his head at her, a low laugh bubbling up. "Oh, pretty tiger lily," he cooed, tempted to grab her by her hair and pull her to him so she couldn't escape. "I want to hurt you very, very badly. Want. Not wanted. Even right now I would love nothing more than to wrap my hand around your pretty throat and see what kind of noise you make." His eyes drifted to her lips once. Would it be breathy? A small little squeak? Maybe a raspy moan? Oh, the possibilities!

Sungha kept staring up at the lady from where he knelt before her on the ground. His head remained tilted in an animalistic fashion, eyes sparkling with the promise of danger and something more. She would have to decide what that "more" entitled, but Sungha could give her whatever she wanted. He saw the way her eyes sparked at the thought of violence. He could remember how she didn't so much as flinch when he asked her to cut him open. No, his tigress was different than all the delicate little daisies he'd met thus far. His tigress craved violence the same way he did, perhaps even was by it the way he was. Either way, what bliss.

The performer nearly purred as he got chastised. Normally he would laugh, would challenge. Especially a lady of such high ranking. But his Lady Seol had a commanding air he found fun to entertain. He so rarely listened! Perhaps he could start, just for her. Though he wasn't sure how long he could hold himself back, how long the tether could stretch before it snapped entirely. That was part of the fun, too. It wasn't a /if/ he would bite, it was a /when/ he would.

"I am doing an /excellent/ job holding myself back right now," he said through his big grin. "And if you think this is me unable to contain my excitement, I fear I shall only disappoint. Though for you, my lady, I shall keep up public appearances."

Sungha willingly held out his palm for her, letting out a sharp intake of breath as the blade cut through his skin. His eyes fluttered as he his bottom lip into his mouth, catching it with his teeth. What ecstasy! He watched the red bubble to the surface and sighed in relief. "What a pretty color, red," he murmured, eyes still glazy and faraway.

The male looked up at his tiger lily again, letting out a laugh. "Holding myself back would be considered a great feat of magic by others who know me." He cradled his injured hand. "I shall treasure this," he promised. "And I shall happily seek you out." Sungha swept into a low bow, his upper half bending over his lower, his bloodied hand smearing red against the grass beneath him.

Oh, what fun he was about to have! He'd have to do his best not to let the wound reopen, then. Let it heal fast.

@✿ moon jaehoon Backdated late September 1868. // TW (just in case) : self-hatred.
⸺

The lush leaves of the forest catch the sun's rays, casting shadows to protect the falconer below from its direct heat. Summer has slowly prepared to leave to let autumn takes its place, yet the heat remains strong. Suryeon stood nearby the lake, watching the soft wind create slight ripples over the blue water as she waited for Marquess Moon. The world seemed to soothe her somehow, for the impending storm that will surely come as she lays all her secrets to her once betrothed.

Sleep eluded her last night and for the first time in a long while she woke Chodal, in the deep of night, for a small hunting excursion. Her longtime companion, however, refused to hunt given his unhealthy condition and Suryeon settled for a walk, following old peregrine's trail of flight as she set him free. The falconer only returned to her family's residence as dawn began to tuck the night away. While she witnessed the sun rises in all its golden glory, the determination in her to enlighten Jaehoon of the reasons behind the abrupt decision to leave him began to fade.

No.

Enough running away.

As the sun continued to rise, Suryeon hung her head low, fingers gripping tight to the wooden yard bench. For more or less a decade, she had hid it from every single person she loved, not wanting to add more burden to her family as they adjusted to being a commoner. She allowed the secret eat her away, leaving her regretful. Her heart tainted by undirected hatred that will always end up returning to herself; despising that she had let things carried away until it was to late to save the little soul, despising the fact that she still lives on, loathing every single breath she breathes in and out. It felt only felt right to hate herself yet. . .

She longed for her wings to be free from its shackles. To not feel as if she's stuck at the bottom of a well. Despite knowing lingering regrets will remain, she wanted to once be unapologetically herself. So, she gathered her courage once more, every single piece of it, until she now stood where they had last met, waiting for her ex's presence.

This moment was for her as much as it was for Jaehoon.

Suryeon exhaled shakily, her fingers fiddling with the bird whistle strapped along with her herb pouch, before turning her gaze to where Jaehoon should arrive from. She willed for the stress on her heart to ease, not wanting to appear weak from the get go.

@❃ bang sungha She can see the slight irritation, the slight shift in his demeanor after her palm connected with his cheek. But as quickly as she was able to see the glimpse of irritation that bubbled through the surface, it was gone. Replaced by a wild grin, one that she was now too accustomed to. The countess would wonder how many people were unnerved by such man. How peculiar. How interesting.
It was his defiance that struck a chord in Riah. Indeed, he was not like the ones who served under her, the ones who gave in to her every whim.

“Why? Did you want to h-hurt me?” Riah utters, feigning innocence when she stutters. As she continued to study him. Her fingers still wrapped around his neck, her hold tightening the longer they remained there.

“You’re a strange one. But I like strange things.” What made the man the way he is? She has not met someone so, unhinged. Admittedly, it unnerved her to some extent as she was not used to being in the presence of such a character. But Sungha was like an acquired taste. Interacting with him was definitely not just like interacting with any suitors—or males who squirmed under her gaze. If anything, he reveled in riling her up. In seeing her irritated with his antics.

An audible gasp escapes her lips when she hears the man elicit a low groan and when she sees his expression change to that of silent provoking to something indescribable, to the countess anyway. She was not an innocent prude; she knows why one would react in such a way but to witness it first hand… If Sungha’s goal was to shock her, perhaps even intimidate her then he would have succeeded for she withdrew her hand quickly. If not for the reassuring weight of her dagger within her person, then she might have even felt cornered as he stared up at her from where he knelt. His expression was unreadable.

“You are…so full of surprises.. and so..” she trails off as she reaches for the dagger. It was a silver eunjangdo, ornately crafted by a master artisan. As if meant to just be decorative display. Before today, the countess would have never thought that there would be a need for her to use it. But he was beautiful as he was unpredictable, and she would not be cornered. Riah glares at him, as if daring him to continue being improper.

“Improper..and unbelievable. You see me after two years and you cannot contain your excitement? In public?” She questions, disapproval laced the tone of her voice that got louder as clearly, she was flustered by such display.

“Give me your hand.” And when Sungha gives her his left hand, the palm she has yet to scar.
Without hesitation, Riah deftly traced a line across his skin, the sharp blade parting his flesh and coaxing forth a renewed trickle of crimson, staining the pristine canvas of his palm. The sight calmed her, distracting him to his display of impropriety.

“No magic tricks today?” She sheathes her dagger as she regarded him.

“When the wound heals, seek me out. You know my name now, it should be easy to find me.”

@✿ seol riah Ah, his little tigress had such an air of authority! Sungha hated authority. Made him want to rebel, to go against. Life was much more fun that way, after all. Even though this pretty tigress made him feel like submitting, he couldn't make things that easy for her. He had to push back a little. If he didn't, what would set him apart from anyone else who served her? Besides, he had a feeling she would enjoy punishing him for talking back and disobeying just as much as he would enjoy it--though make no mistake, Sungha would enjoy the punishment even more.

"Yes, my family are all familiar with my nature. I would not go as far as to say as they accept it, but they do not discourage me. One of my brothers has even found it advantageous to his safety. Is that strange to you, Lady Seol?" He spoke her name clearly, enunciating each syllable almost to a point of mocking, but not quite. Just brushing the edge. He had to hold back the giggle that would give him away. He was already pushing too much today. Deciding he should at least try to be a little good for her, Sungha tilted his head with a smile. "In private, may I call you tigress?"

He was about to brush her jaw with the scarred pad of his thumb but--ah. What sweet, stinging bliss was this? Head whipping to the side ever so slightly, Sungha slowly lifted a hand to touch his stinging cheek, though his lady's touch beat him to it. Sungha slowly turned to her, eyes dark and stormy. He could feel that typhoon building within him, swirling around the pit of his stomach and building pressure in his chest. If it were anyone else, he would retaliate immediately.

Yet somehow....somehow her touch quelled the roiling winds and churning clouds. Instead, Sungha let out a loud laugh, eyes wide and pupils blown. He couldn't stop laughing! My, my, it had been a while since someone hit him--especially without consequences!

"Oh, Lady Seol," he crooned, the laughter dying down, though the wolfish grin remained. "If you were anyone else, I would have done much more than an unsanctioned touch in response to being slapped. It felt so /good/ though."

Sungha let out a breathy, low groan when he felt her hand tighten on his neck. He did nothing to hide the sleepy lust the action brought to his eyes, catching his lower lip between his teeth. Slowly, Sungha knelt down before her, keeping his eyes on her at all times. Though they were clouded with desire, they remained sharp, focused. The eyes of a predator sizing up another, ready to fight or mate--perhaps even both.

@❃ bang sungha Riah's brows knit together as she heard the man refer to her as Tigress, a nickname he seemed accustomed to after two years of thinking about her. She dismissed it with a wave of her hand.

"No matter. Out in public, you'll address me as Lady Seol. That's non-negotiable." She asserted her preferences firmly, showing little concern for his feelings. This was typical of her—raised to never settle for anything that didn't align with her desires. She attributed this trait to her grandfather, a convenient scapegoat for the less flattering aspects of her personality that this man seemed to provoke effortlessly.

Her reaction was subtle yet unmistakable as she involuntarily flinched when his knuckle grazed her cheek. It became evident to her that he was not accustomed to proper behavior or boundaries. In that moment, she realized he was a project in need of refinement—a blank canvas waiting to be shaped by her influence.

"Your brother calls you Tiger? He must be familiar with this... aspect of you," she remarked cryptically, alluding to the untamed quality she sensed in him, a madness that was openly displayed and understood by those around him. Sungha was unbound by societal norms, freely expressing himself without restraint—a quality that intrigued Riah.
In many ways, they shared a similar boldness, yet they were fundamentally different. Unlike Sungha, who embraced his raw authenticity, Riah always presented herself flawlessly to society, embodying the poised elegance expected of a countess.

In her social circles, Riah was the epitome of elegance—an imposing figure who commanded respect and stirred fear among potential suitors. Yet behind closed doors, a darker aspect of her nature lurked—a streak of cruelty that seemed inherent, perhaps a product of enduring years under her grandfather's harsh influence. Despite this duality, Riah had learned to masterfully balance both sides of herself.
However, in the presence of Sungha, she shed the façade. Here, she could simply be herself—cruel and unfiltered. Surprisingly, he seemed to revel in this side of her, finding admiration in her unapologetic authenticity.

Riah's eyes widened slightly as she felt Sungha's warm, scarred hands gently cupping her face. The rough texture of his palms, adorned with scars, contrasted with the tenderness of his touch. Despite the gesture, she couldn't help but be irked by his apparent lack of restraint.

"Do you mean it?" he asked, his tone filled with adoration and almost a hint of obsession. Riah sensed his eagerness wouldn't end there.
Then, he pushed further, asking if he could kneel before her once again. Her initial inclination to forgive his disrespectful enthusiasm was swiftly replaced by a resolve to assert her dominance. In her world, disobedience was met with correction—pets needed to be reminded of their place.

The countess took a step back, withdrawing from his touch, and the next sensation she experienced was the sharp sting on her palm as it made contact with Sungha's cheek in a swift slap.

"I do not recall giving you permission to touch me so intimately, Sungha," she stated coldly, her tone devoid of warmth. As she reached out to where she had just struck him, a mark had already appeared on his skin. She allowed her touch to linger, soothing the bubbling irritation that surfaced within her.
Her eyes held a steely resolve, daring him to question her boundaries again. In her world, respect and consent were not negotiable, even with someone like Sungha.

"If you wish to become one of my people," Riah declared, her voice cool and commanding, "then you must understand one fundamental rule: I do not tolerate unsanctioned touches."
Her fingers lingered on Sungha's face before trailing down to encircle his neck, the touch initially exploratory but gradually tightening in a silent warning. Riah’s audacity makes up for the height difference between her and the male.

"Kneel then," she ordered, her tone unwavering, her eyes fixed on his. It was a command that brooked no disobedience, underlining her authority and the consequences of defiance in her world.

@✿ seol riah Sungha crinkled his nose up. Of course the pretty tiger hadn't moved for him, but a man can have dreams, can he not? It was a romantic thought, though of course one far too good to be true. He made a soft noise in response, running his thumb over his scar once more, the action a familiar habit. He really had cherished that pretty scar, finding comfort and excitement equally in it. When he had first received the mark, he often pressed his nail into it, wanting to keep the wound open. But he knew that would be bad for his health, and the longer it took to heal the longer he would have to rest before fully returning to performing.

Mother Bang knew of his strange affinity for pain, both giving and receiving. She had accepted it, as had his adopted siblings, but Sungha knew none of them fully understood him. That was well enough; even Sungha was unsure as to why he enjoyed pain the way he did. He liked the shine that came to peoples' eyes from the first bite of it, to watch as their expressions morphed into shock, agony, anger. Sometimes people surprised him. His patrons were a fine example, those whose eyes sparked with the heat of desire upon feeling his knives.

Often times they wished to use them on Sungha--begged, sometimes. But that was a no-no. Sungha was off limits. He could not imagine those old, papery hands on him. He could not be expected to get hard with patrons like that. So he had set a general rule that he would do the touching with no receiving. Anyone who objected would find their wounds just a touch deeper, enough to inflict more damage while being shallow enough to claim it an accident of passion. As if he could ever feel passion for people like that.

His tigress, on the other hand...oh, she was different. Beautiful and young, for a start, but he sensed in her a drop of his own makeup. The same wild streak, the same hint of /other/. Like moth to a flame, Sungha wanted to delve deeper. He wished, for the first time in his life, to submit. Though he couldn't promise he wouldn't bite if cornered. It was his nature, after all. You cannot fault a scorpion for stinging.

Sungha let out a soft, dreamy sigh. "Making people scared is much more fun than pleasing them." He cocked his head at hear. "Lady Seol..." he repeated, letting the sound roll over his tongue. He made a face. "Tigress suits you better," he decided, before pausing in his tracks.

"House of the Tiger?" he repeated before roaring out in mad laughter. "Perhaps I should have been a shaman instead of a sword swallower!" Sungha reached out to brush his knuckles against her cheek, grinning widely. "I knew you were a pretty little tiger. Felt it in my soul. My brother calls me a tiger, too. I could tell you were like me."

Oh, but the pretty tiger lily's next words felt too good to be true! Be hers? "Belong to you?" he repeated, eyes lighting up again. His smile remained plastered onto his face. "Do you mean it?" He turned to face her, reaching to cup her face in his hands to study her delicate features. If she punished him for the incredibly inappropriate action, all the better. "Can I get down on my knees for you again?" Sungha asked, voice suddenly and uncharacteristically low and soft.

@❃ bang sungha “Did I move for you?” It would be Riah’s turn to laugh. Genuine amused laugh. How did he easily invoke such emotion from her when she usually held back emotions? Perhaps it was something that only he could bring out from the countess. Sungha brought out something sinister, something slightly off kilter within her.

“Of course not my dear… though I am glad fate has brought you back to me.” Aware that the latter might be older than her, Riah still refused to use honorifics even as someone who usually never lacked in proper decorum and etiquette.
Riah would smile when she sees the scar that their encounter had left him. She reaches down with the hand that she did not use to touch his face with to trace the faint white line that now decorated it like jewelry. Her touch was light, barely lingering on his skin before she withdrew. She watches him pout. What a sight it was, she would not admit out loud, but she found him endearing. Like how a tamed tiger would appear. So willingly showing his emotions to her like that.

“No need for apologies, I am glad that you kept the one that I gave you after all these years.” She chided, her mood already better from the brief interaction that had occurred between the two of them.

“I bet you do tiger, but I’m afraid I have scared them enough.” Riah says, turning to look at the spectators with a glare seemed to soften when her gaze comes back to the man in front of her. Some of the spectators went about their ways, clearing their throats as if washing their hands of the encounter that they had just watched unfold.

“Yes I promise… come now. Let us be off. Ah.. but before that. Are you not curious of my identity? or do you prefer calling me tigress.” She began, as she watched the male fall into step beside her. Riah’s lady in waiting still carefully followed the two of them.

“Though I do adore ‘tigress’, perhaps you can call me Lady Seol..when we’re out in society. Just like this.” She does not wait for further questions before she reveals her true identity to him. From now on, if he wished to seek her out, he only needed to utter her family name and all of Hanseong would know where to direct him.
“I’m Seol Riah..from the House of the Tiger.” She smiles, glancing at him. At how the nickname he managed to give her fit her identity well.

“And now that I saw you again. I’m reluctant to let you go like last time. Bang Sungha….Become one of my people won’t you? Belong to me.” Riah shamelessly propositions, stopping in her tracks when they arrive at a path less travelled where no prying eyes can see their interaction of follow them. Her eyes gleamed in anticipation as she waited for his response.

@✿ seol riah Sungha had a vague, distant understanding that there were others around them, that they weren't alone. However, Sungha was never one to care, to notice. Already he had been deemed strange, sometimes crazy. They weren't entirely wrong though, were they? Sungha didn't care for himself, but it did dawn on him that perhaps doing this in front of his pretty tiger lily would not be the best idea. Rumors about him? No one cared. But her? Well...Sungha wasn't sure. She seemed upper class. Most everyone was higher than him on the social ladder, that much was certain. Either way, not the best for a lady like her to get caught up in rumors about a street performer kneeling before her. Perhaps it could be written off as him begging for forgiveness.

"How are you here?" he wondered aloud, cocking his head from side to side. "Did you move, pretty tigress? Did you follow me?" That made his eyes sparkle and dance, a laugh threatening to bubble past his lips once more. How amusing that would be, indeed!

Sungha nearly purred as he felt her touch his face, turning it this way and that. His dark eyes fluttered, enjoying the contact with a sleepy grin plastered on his face. He let out a soft hum, offering both of his hands out to her in silent consent. The one pretty scar across his palm, though his other palm was still decorated with various other scars. He couldn't help but pout. "I did not wish to ruin your scar, but I still had other tricks to perform." Sungha suddenly felt ashamed of his scars, of any scar not given by his tiger lily. "I am sorry," he added.

Once more, Sungha glanced around, acknowledging that there were in fact other people around. He blinked up at the female before him. "I would not?" he asked, blinking. "Scaring them sounds fun, though. Why do you think I learned sword swallowing?"

But Sungha obliged, standing up to his full height and straightening out his clothes. For her he should look at least a bit dignified, after all. The promise of another prick of pain made him straighten his back, his chin lifting to proper posture. "You promise?"

@❃ bang sungha Once more, Riah found herself taken aback by Sungha's antics. She anticipated his reaction—maybe a questioning glance or even a hint of irritation at the unexpected contact. Yet, as he pivoted around, his eyes sparked with recognition and what seemed to be awe, causing the countess to smile even broader.

"Tigress" he exclaimed, and Riah couldn't help but chuckle, remembering how she had failed to share her name with him two years ago. She was pleased that at least her nickname had stuck. However, her eyes widened as he knelt before her, looking up with an expression of reverence. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. This gesture hinted at a depth of respect and perhaps adoraion that touched her, igniting a mix of surprise and twisted warmth within the countess.

Although she was beloved in her household and perhaps feared by suitors in the social circle, Riah has never had someone get down on their knees and look up to her as if she was the sun. Sungha was indeed unique... and interesting. He could either be a wild flower waiting to be picked or a tiger pretending to be tamed as he waited for an opportunity to bite back.

"And here I thought I'd never see you again, Tiger... Sungha," she uttered, his name rolling off her tongue effortlessly as she looked down at him. Luckily, there were few others in the pathway they occupied, but those present halted in their tracks to witness the unfolding scene. Sungha's laughter shattered the tranquil atmosphere of the promenade. To Riah, it was a melodic sound, laced with a hint of madness that somehow added to its allure.

The countess gracefully leaned down, her knees bending slightly as she cupped the side of his face with one hand while she listened to his request. An amused smile played across her face, her eyes alight with curiosity and excitement once more. Her hand slid down to hold his chin between her thumb and index finger, as if she were appraising fine merchandise, gently turning his face from side to side. In truth, there was no necessity; Riah simply desired a closer look at him.

"Do you want to be cut up again?" She tilts her head to the side in amusement.

"Perhaps a matching scar on your other palm, so you can truly never forget me." It was said in jest, but Riah would have been more than willing to oblige. After all, he was the only one capable of entertaining her these days. His sudden reappearance in her life had already brought her immense joy; perhaps he deserved a reward. She placed her hands on his broad shoulders, patting them as if encouraging a pet to stand up.

"Now stand up, you would not want to frighten these good people." She says, looking around at the spectators. Surely she would be the subject of such rumors again. But what was new, she's been the talk of the ton ever since her failed engagement. What's another rumor to add to the pile.

"Walk with me, maybe I'll cut you in the end if you indulge me." The countess offers, taking a step back. Awaiting Sungha's response. Times like this is when she was glad that she always brought her dagger with her. Always neatly concealed in her jeogori.

@✿ seol riah Sungha's life was predictably unpredictable. He did the same things, but always in different places. Sometimes he got in trouble and had to hide away for a few weeks until commotion died down or investigators had something better to do. Most days he accompanied his siblings out and about. If he was really bored he would go perform. Some of the nobles had even heard of him and would request him to perform at their silly little banquets.

Sungha always did so, but yangbans always put a strange taste in his mouth. His first kill, after all, had been the foreman for a yangban family. He could still see his father's face contorting in pain when he was hit by the foreman's cane. Then, moments later, the bulging of the foreman's eyes as Sungha shoved a chisel through his throat. The sudden memory made Sungha laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet of the field, cutting through the stillness of the day. He put a hand over his mouth, eyes going wide as he remembered how the blood came out in spurts to the beat of the dying man's heart. Oh, what a lovely memory. Though he had to run away after that. Couldn't be helped. Sungha wasn't even sure how he was still alive sometimes. He had gotten in plenty of trouble for his rather...interesting tastes and hobbies.

Artists and performers lead strange lives, after all. There was a strange undercurrent of the job, an unspoken understanding that performers were there to show their art, but also they should extend their services to the bedroom. It was more common for women, but Sungha had his fair share of patrons who had requested he visit their rooms privately after as well. Many of them were interested in Sungha's knives, and who was he to deny them?

Though...none of them would ever be so lovely as his little tiger. Sungha often ran his thumb across the scar on his palm. He refused to use that hand for any further tricks, not wanting the scar to be marred. It was his special memory. Sometimes he wondered where she was. If she was out devouring some unfortunate bird. He hoped so.

Sungha continued on his walk, his hand once more finding the other to trace across the pretty scar. He wondered what they would be eating for dinner tonight. Perhaps Junha had brought in some good money--he usually did these days. Before his thoughts could delve deeper, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Sungha paused, his head cocking to the side in an animalistic fashion. Oh, this could be fun! He grinned as he turned to see what little woodpecker was tapping on him, and his eyes widened as he beheld his little tigress. What luck! What joy! Perhaps gods were real, and they were smiling upon him!

"Tigress!" he exclaimed, immediately dropping down onto his knees in front of her, head tilted up as he regarded her with awe. "My, my...how I thought I would never see you again. Have you come to cut me up some more?" He let out a laugh, the sound slightly mad. It was hard to tell if he was joking or not. "Please say yes, pretty tiger lily."

@❃ bang sungha [ Late October 1863 ]

After the dissolution of Riah’s first arranged betrothal, she found herself mired in a seemingly endless state of languor. It was in these quiet, idle moments that her thoughts inevitably turned to the intriguing man she had encountered back home in Gangneung two years prior. No one else had left such an indelible mark on her life since, and she had resigned herself to the belief that they would never cross paths again. After all, the countess rarely associated with individuals outside her social sphere. Yet, the renewed constraints imposed by her grandfather rendered her already bleak existence more unbearable. These days, her sole diversions comprised swordsmanship, archery practice, and the occasional permitted promenade.

“Find him. His name is Bang Sungha.”

She recalls instructing her servants to locate a man—a street performer skilled in sword dances and magic tricks. Armed with only a name and a vague description, her servants returned empty-handed week after week, much to the countess's mounting frustration. She was determined to reconnect with him. Why? Well, why not? Riah simply desired to see him again, to discover if he remained as intriguingly captivating as he had been two years prior.

As the search continued fruitlessly, Riah implored her servants to enlist more aid, her patience wearing thin with each passing day. Today, she wandered aimlessly along the familiar pathways of the promenade. Autumn was gradually encroaching upon Hanseong, painting the foliage around her in vibrant shades of yellow and orange. It was a stark contrast, almost reminiscent of how a stranger had once brought vividness to her dulled world.

“I wonder if his antics eventually brought him to the execution block. It would be a shame.”

She sighs, studying her nails as she continues her walk. The countess’ lady in waiting walked with her but was at a distance because she preferred to be alone while she was deep in thought.

Then, as if by fate's design, the very man of her thoughts materialized before her eyes. Riah looked up ahead and spotted his familiar, imposing stature and striking face. How could one forget a visage so captivating? Before she could announce her presence, he turned around.

This was precisely why she had been so determined to find him. A broad smile graced the countess's visage, and she deftly gathered her chima with both hands, lifting it slightly to ensure she could walk swiftly yet gracefully within the bounds of propriety, especially in this public setting where eyes remained fixed upon her, particularly after the recent scandal involving her former betrothed. Drawing nearer, she observed that the man—Bang Sungha—possessed an almost regal air. With the appropriate attire, he could easily pass for a yangban.
Yet he seemed slightly off-kilter, much like she felt herself to be.

Excitement coursed through Riah’s veins as she approached him.

Riah cleared and tapped the man's shoulder, maintaining her smile as she eagerly anticipated their reunion. Would he remember her? Or was she merely one of the countless witnesses to his magic tricks? She hoped that, like the scar she had left on his palm, her memory had also been etched into the deep recesses of his mind.

@❃ seo jung Upon hearing Jung's words, Hyeongwon could only manage a gentle smile. The ache in his heart had finally subsided whenever he gazed upon her. He found it impossible to retain any bitterness towards someone he had once cherished deeply. The Marquess appeared rather foolish for persisting in seeking scorn over a matter long past.

"As a matter of truth, the events that unfolded between us inflicted deep wounds upon me, which regrettably led me to inadvertently inflict pain upon others as well. Therefore, I cannot claim complete innocence," he admitted softly, his words lingering in the air like a gentle breeze as they strolled across the graceful arch of a bridge, overlooking the serene expanse of a tranquil lake below. Hyeongwon halted beside her, pausing in the midst of the bridge's span. The marquess leaned against the railing, his arms draped casually over it, his gaze fixed on the picturesque scene unfolding below—the lively figures meandering amidst the blossoming blooms that adorned the pathway of the promenade.

"You must have carried a burden of guilt with everything that unfolded, especially with my absence in Sook soon after," Hyeongwon began gently, turning his head to meet Jung's gaze with sincerity in his eyes. "But you need not carry that weight any longer, Jung. I forgive you, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me as well."

He paused, the soft sounds of the surroundings enveloping them on the tranquil bridge. "You deserve someone who cherishes you unconditionally, someone who won't seek retribution simply because they were once hurt by you. I genuinely hope you find that person."

Reflecting on the past, Hyeongwon acknowledged how, perhaps a year ago, imagining Jung with another man would have caused a pang of jealousy or longing. The thought of her laughing joyfully or simply sharing time with someone else might have troubled him deeply. Yet now, as he regarded her once more, he realized a profound sense of readiness to release all grievances from their shared history.

@❀ yoo hyunsik “Aecha?”
The sudden utterance of her name was but a whisper on the wind. It wasn’t loud but still just audible enough that she had almost lost her balance, wobbling unsteadily for a bit longer than was comfortable before she regained her footing on the thin wooden pole. Once comfortable again she spun around, an act far more graceful than the tumble she had almost taken. Her new sheath clattered a little against her leg from the movement, the only sound but the wind to fill the space between them.

Perhaps she had overestimated her ability to recognize faces from her past. Even now staring at him she could not for sure place it all, but certain features definitely fit the bill to a tee. A small smile slowly spread on her lips. “Heavens be damned, it is true,” she muttered, voice filled with an auditory disbelief. He was still around after all these years. And looking quite well from what she could see.

With the practiced perfectionism of a namsadang member, Aecha hopped off the fencepost. Her feet barely made any sound as they found themselves back on solid ground, her chin lifted with the confidence of a woman way above her own station. Her hands found purchase upon her waist, one resting by her hip, the other resting on the hilt of her sword, two fingers gently tapping against the pommel. “Yoo Hyunsik,” she spoke his name with an almost nostalgic revelry, the smile never fading from her lips.

“How long has it been now?” She knew the answer, but it felt the only appropriate question to start of their talk. If there even was to be a talk. He seemed to have walked with a goal in mind, passing her without raising neither suspicion nor curiosity. To think she had actually found him. “You’re certainly taller than I remember,” Aecha added with a chuckle. “Or have I grown shorter?”

@❃ ya aecha Ever since Hyunsik had started training in his teenage years his life slowly had progressively started to get more and more busy. He already had a lot of responsibilities on his shoulders being the only and eldest son of the Yoo family, but it progressively built up. A natural sign of aging. Not being able to hang out with his friends as much, adventure or even just enjoy the days passing by as much as he used to.

Since joining the military it seemed things had only sped up for the male from there. However walking down the familiar path of his childhood, he couldn’t help but allow himself to reminisce in the memories. There were so many things that the male had missed, when times were simpler he thought. When he once thought that being an adult was such an aspiring thing to be. Oh, the foolish ideation from his childhood.

Hyunsik was now heading towards a generals house, someone his father had worked closely with in the past, and had requested to meet with Hyunsik to discuss some work. The route to the home was all too familiar to him, that he had allowed his feet to mindless drag him.

Perhaps it was his brain that stopped working, or his feet had been glued to the ground, he wasn’t sure. Feeling like he had seen a ghost from the past, he turned back. “Aecha?” The name slipped from his mouth all too easily as a whisper. He hadn’t even turned back to see if what he saw was true, perhaps the face he saw was all too similar.

@❃ seo min as min's delicate frame trembled against his chest, juhwan could feel the palpable waves of fear that emanated from her. her tears and ragged breaths pierced through the serene night, causing his heart to ache at the sight of her distress. they had always supported each other through difficult times, but tonight felt vastly different from any other. this was the first time he found himself as the subject of her hallucination, and the realization pained him deeply to see her suffer from such intense fear.

he needed min to awaken to the reality that they were alone in the vast forest, with no one and nothing to threaten them. at least, no harm would ever come to her as long as he was by her side. with his arm wrapped firmly around her waist, juhwan's other hand gently cradled her cheek, ensuring her gaze remained fixed on his instead of the ominous darkness that surrounded them. "yeonwoo, look at me," he pleaded to her, his voice gentle and soothing to prevent any further agitation. "he's not here. focus on me, please, only on me." his thumb tenderly brushed away the tears that streamed down her cheek, hoping to soothe her troubled mind.

"take slow, deep breaths," he reminded her, feeling tears of his own well in his eyes as he witnessed the fear in hers. "i'm here, i won't let anything happen to you." but as he comforted her, he noticed the blood on his hand. it wasn't his own; it had to be hers. where did she get hurt? "you're bleeding... did you get hurt when you fell?" he questioned, worry evident on his features. juhwan carefully loosened his hold around her frame to inspect her body and clothes, searching for the source of the wound.

@✿ go miro এ❁꙰　backdated thread. occuring mid-august of 1869.

As the sun began its descent beyond the horizon and cast a warm golden glow over Hanseong’s landscape, Ryu Yeonhwa found herself waiting anxiously by a spot near the riverbank. The Chilseok Nakhwa Nori was in full swing behind her, the joyous festivities echoing laughter from every corner. Yet, her thoughts drifted to the events that had led her to this very moment.

When the marchioness had summoned every ounce of courage within her to extend the invitation to Miro, she had not actually expected him to oblige her seemingly frivolous request. However, to her astonishment and delight, the man had accepted with a gracious ‘yes’, igniting a spark of excitement within her akin to that of a child whose parent had allowed them to indulge in a sweet treat.

Despite their initial engagement being shrouded in scandal and speculation, she had found an unexpected solace in Miro’s company over the past six moons. Their regular outings had blossomed into a genuine camaraderie, creating a solid foundation of friendship that she cherished more than she would ever admit.

As the minutes ticked by, each heartbeat seemed to echo the rhythm of her anticipation, the soft rustle of her hands playing with her chima a soothing melody against the backdrop of the bustling festival. Lanterns danced overhead, casting playful shadows upon the cobblestones as if heralding the arrival of a momentous occasion.

And then, amidst the gentle murmur of the gathering crowd, she spotted him — a figure approaching against the fading light, his silhouette a familiar outline against the backdrop of the setting sun and his features illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns that lined the pathway.

“My lord,” she called out, her voice soft yet infused with genuine warmth. With a smile tugging at the corners of her lips, Yeonhwa stepped forward to meet him halfway. “I am so glad you found time to join me today.”

@✿ cha seonhye (neé chae) it was strange how looking at someone could be a catalyst for summoning a flood of memories from the depth of the young duke's mind. memories of their reckless pursuit of romance despite the glaring reality that their feelings for each other were platonic more than anything. there were also moments in hangyeol's life when he yearned to purge the complexities that entangled his existence. when such thoughts filled his mind, it was seonhye that he turned to. he seemed to find solace in knowing that seonhye would always be there to listen and understand.

and she has never failed him just yet. even until now.

for hangyeol, seonhye had a serene presence despite her bright personality, her expression was always like a mirror of understanding and her eyes would be pools of empathy as he mumbled the night away during their youth. and this remained like a healing experience for geum hangyeol's soul.

it was a friendship he would never exchange for anything else. chae seonhye was like a transparent sheet of paper to him, and vice-versa. and so, even though this meeting of theirs might be strange in the prying eyes of people, hangyeol had never felt relief like the one he felt when he saw the female.

"i can already sense the reason behind your tardiness," he remarked as he shaked his head, with a soft chuckle. his lips adorning a wide grin, he gives a wide wave towards the lady bounding towards him. "i can only fathom what a challenge it is for chunseok to match your pace, chae seonhye." he snickers even more as he stands right before her.

despite having residence in the same city, hangyeol found himself drawn to frequently heading back to seongnam due to his duties as the duke. the crop harvesting season was one to get him busy enough. the once-bustling trade routes had been disrupted, after all. the young duke knew he needed to pay further attention and effort to ensure the region's economy survived and recovered from the previous ripple effect from the aftermath of the war.

he gathered his hand behind him and smiled, looking down at the slightly smaller in height lady from the chae family. "you've been busy i heard, lady chae. do tell me what i must know." he asked despite knowing all too well what has been the word of the streets. however, just like their usual demeanor towards each other, he appreciates hearing it directly from the other's lips.

@❀ yoo hyunsik “Yoo Hyunsik.”
His name still felt familiar on the tip of her tongue. It alone was enough to make her smile.

Disbelief still filled Aecha’s soul as she stood on the fencepost along the promenade that lead in the direction of his old manor. Hopefully his family had not moved anywhere new, yet so much could have changed since then. How long had it even been since she had seen him last? It was back before the fires and the full turn of her life so it had to be at least a decade. Who knew what had become of him since? Would he care to greet her if he saw her? Would he recognize her even?

Would she recogize him? 10 years or more. Certainly he would look like a man now; little left of the boy she had befriended from behind those manor walls. Then again, little was left of the girl she was either. Although the life and light in her eyes had slowly returned over the past year with her partner and her new work, she still bore the markings and scars of years of hardship.

Hopefully he would be able to see past it all to the girl he knew beneath. She was still the same Aecha deep down that had climbed up the walls of their manor and watched him work. The same Aecha that had balanced along the tiles as she had laughed at his small jabs at her. All she would have to do now was wait, patiently tiptoeing back and forth atop the fence as she scanned the faces of passers by. She would recognize him. She was sure of it.

@✾ hanazawa sumire The problem with meeting a faceless stranger was simply put, the fact that he had no idea who he was waiting for - and the waiting made him antsy. Several people who passed him shot him curious glances, eyeing the bouquet of flowers and his formal attire, a group of young courtesans passing him, giggling as soon as they had walked far enough away to start what he assumed would be a round of gossip. And while he usually wouldn't care - he had been topic of many a rumor - this time it made him shift nervously where he stood, nearly tugging at his collar. A part of him wanted to assume that his date wouldn't show up, yet just moments later he locked eyes with a young woman who quickly came his way. It made him jump, if only a little bit, his spine pulling ramrod straight almost immediately, before he dropped onto a slight, polite bow.

"Choi Jinseok", he introduced himself after straightening up again, answering her smile with his own, before he held out the bouquet and said in /her/ mother tongue: "it's nice to meet you."
He had practiced, yes. Despite everything his childhood friends said about him and despite everything his father thought of him, he took things rather serious when it came to meeting possible marriage candidates. Most of all, though, he took it serious when he met a person who might feel just as much out of place as he did.
"I was really honored when you picked my bouquet, I have to admit. I had quite the hard time thinking about an interesting day to provide for you."

@✿ moon hyeongwon as jung approached hyeongwon in the middle fragrant blossoms of the flower festival, her heart fluttered with a mixture of apprehension and longing. memories of their past encounters flooded her mind, each one tinged with regret for the pain she had caused him.

she could feel the weight of her past mistakes pressing down on her shoulders, burdening her with the knowledge that she had used hyeongwon as a mere pawn in her futile attempts to recapture a long-lost love. guilt gnawed at her conscience, urging her to seek redemption for the hurt she had inflicted upon him.

jung's hanbok swayed gently, its delicate fabric the hue of cherry blossom pink, a subtle homage to the fleeting beauty of the season. the scent of cherry blossoms enveloped her, mingling with the sweet fragrance of the flowers that adorned the promenade, creating an ethereal atmosphere that seemed to encapsulate the bittersweetness of their reunion.

as she met his gaze, jung saw the flicker of forgiveness in his eyes, a glimmer of hope amidst the lingering shadows of resentment. his smile, though tinged with sadness, warmed her heart, reminding her of the kindness and compassion he had always shown her, even in the face of her betrayal.

taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, jung accepted hyeongwon's offered arm, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into her bones. she longed to apologize, to beg for his forgiveness and pray for a chance to mend the shattered pieces of their relationship.

"thank you, my lord for accepting my invitation to come here," she murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned in closer to him. "i... i've missed you. and i'm so sorry for everything. can you... can you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

her words hung in the air like a fragile blossom caught on a gentle breeze, her heart racing as she waited for his response, hoping against hope that he would grant her the grace she so desperately sought.

@❀ choi jinseok to say she is nervous would be an understatement.

sumire pats down her kamikazari and straightens her obiage for what would be the seventh time today, her nerves deeming her anything but poised for the time being; why she chose to undertake such an arduous event, she has no idea—perhaps it was the allure of the beautiful bouquets, all lined up for their perusal? it surely was not because she found the idea of meeting a stranger for a romantic getaway a wonderful venture; if anything, the concept just made her balk. sumire was anything but an extrovert, and she would rather keep it staying that way.

but oh, had anyone in her family gone with her this season, they would be having a field day with this impulsive idea. sumire could /never/ survive a day without a jab or two at her... complete lack of romantic prospects despite being of marriageable age, so all of this? stepping out of her comfort zone? joining what is essentially an omiai on a whim? her mother in particular would be weeping tears of joy, that much is certain; if they could set up a wedding on the spot, she is convinced her father would have their best kimonos out in no time, as well.

but alas, none of them are here—hopefully, that notion eases her nerves a bit, having to go on this... blind date without any pressure whatsoever. "don't forget to smile," she grits her teeth, taking a deep breath and inhaling the fresh air that the promenade provided; a look to her left and sumire sees the vastness of the ocean ahead, and she's thankful her date chose a beautiful spot to meet... she just hopes the date itself would prove to be worthy of her time.

it does not take her long to find him: he stands out amongst the rolling hills of flowers—quite literally, sumire thinks in amusement, as she takes in the stranger's tall stature—and he's unmistakably holding the bouquet that had caught her eye the moment she laid her sights on it. a glimpse of her date triggers yet another wave of nerves, and for a moment she freezes and almost turns to flee, but sumire stays rooted to her spot; she never backs away from a challenge, no matter how daunting it may be, and she would be damned if she started running now.

and so, she raises a hand and gives him a wave from where she was standing, before proceeding to approach the man and letting his mother tongue take over hers, albeit with a little clumsiness. "hello," she breathes out, a warm smile plastered onto her visage in an attempt to look approachable. "my name is sumire, it's nice to meet you..?"

@✾ hanazawa sumire Things had truly taken a turn for something unexpected and interesting. And perhaps even exciting, what with Jinseok counting on both his father and mother potentially losing it, should the young woman he was about to meet turn out to be his forever match. Especially his mother would be scandalized. Her son, meeting a foreign woman with the intent of seeing if they would be fit for courtship and engagement? Imagining her outrage made him giggle, almost, as he made his way to the meeting spot he had given, the same bouquet he had sent to the palace firmly in his hold. He had no idea what the young lady would look like, didn't know if they would even like each other.

But still, his heart was beating just a little faster as he stood there, waiting for Sumire to find him, nervously smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in his clothes, adjusting the delicate paper wrapped around the flowers. He could just hope for the best and see where this would go. And this time, he would give it all a chance. He owed himself this much and the unknown woman as well. Nobody wanted to meet someone whose heart was already closed off. That would not be fair.

@❃ seo jung (Backdated 10th of May, 1869)

Hyeongwon unexpectedly received a missive from the House of Roses. From Seo Jung. It had been a year since their last encounter and even when it’s been a year, it felt like it had only been weeks. In the quiet moments that followed their parting, Hyeongwon found himself haunted by the relentless echoes of "what could have been."

The memory of their shared moments together lingered like a bittersweet melody, tantalizing him with visions of a future that had never come to pass. He couldn't help but wonder what might have transpired if he had chosen differently, if he had followed her instead of turning away.

Days stretched to weeks, weeks stretched to months and now months have stretched into a full year. The Marquess was unable to act on the complex emotions when it came to Jung and so he had let time be the ultimate tester. He had accepted in his heart that their time had come to a pass. And that after all that transpired, he forgives her.

As Hyeongwon anticipates his meeting with Seo Jung, a surge of hope courses through him, mingling with the undercurrent of apprehension that tugs at his heartstrings. With each step closer to their rendezvous, he clings to the belief that this encounter will serve as a cathartic closure, drawing a definitive line under the chapter of their shared past while simultaneously unlocking the door to a realm of boundless future possibilities.

Standing at the designated spot with unwavering punctuality, Hyeongwon's gaze sweeps across the lush promenade adorned with blooming flowers. Each delicate petal serves as a poignant reminder of the happy memories he once shared with Seo Jung—memories that had long since been buried beneath the weight of resentment and regret.

For too long, he had allowed himself to dwell solely on the bitter remnants of their past, fixating on the moments of pain and betrayal while disregarding the flickers of joy and affection that had once illuminated their relationship. But as he stands amidst the blossoms of renewal, Hyeongwon finds himself opening his heart to the possibility of rediscovering those forgotten moments of happiness.

Perhaps, he muses, it was his own reluctance to forgive that had kept him tethered to the past, clinging stubbornly to the remnants of hate that had consumed his soul. Yet now, as he stands on the precipice of reconciliation, he vows to release himself from the shackles of negativity and embrace the healing power of forgiveness.

Jung’s footsteps broke his reverie, and he turns around to see her. Seo Jung had always been both a source of comfort and ache for Hyeongwon but as he gazes upon her countenance today. He doesn’t see anything but the woman that he used to harbor affections towards. A smile grazes his lips. He already knew the outcome of the meeting before it had even begun.

Hyeongwon offers his arm to the lady.

“Shall we began our leisurely walk my lady?” He says, smiling at her genuinely.

@✿ cha kiwoon “If that is what you want.., my lord.” The endearment should have flowed out of naturally; after all, Viscount Cha then; now, Duke Cha had always held a special place in her heart for many years since she had met him a century ago, and yet, it didn’t. Instead, the words came out as forced, unnatural, and unwilling.

What was presumably a brief moment felt like an eternity to her as the other spoke. With each passing minute, the emotions that stirred within her only felt even more suffocating, and given a chance, she would have very much preferred to run, hide, or simply vanish and disappear.

“I do not covet anyone—not anymore.” lies; they were all lies, Seonhye wanted to tell him. The sadness that briefly flickered in eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by the young marchioness, and she thinks to herself—in the most sick and twisted way that would wreck her own heart entirely—for now, perhaps, but who was anyone to say that if the said lady or any lady as a matter of fact were to return his affections in the coming future, was he not to falter?

That warmth of his hand that held her wrist should have brought solace to the young lady, should have set her heart ablaze with longing and cause butterflies in her stomach. It was, after all, Duke Cha, one of Hanseong's most sought after bachelors and above all, her first love. Yet, unbeknownst to anyone around them, there was no solace, no loud thumping and racing of her heart, and definitely no butterflies in her stomach—nothing except that it burned with the intensity of a thousand suns.

With a slight tremble in her hand, Seonhye gently pried Kiwoon’s fingers off her wrist before retracting both hands and settling them by her slide, allowing the sleeves of her hanbok to cover them. “We’re in the eyes of the public, my lord.” Her voice wavered, betraying the mask she had on.

“I shall know my place in your estate. I am, after all, just your lady in title only. nothing else.” There was no bitterness in her voice, just emptiness. “I was very well aware of that when I agreed to your proposal from the beginning, and this meeting served as another perfect reminder.” Again, she felt another pang in her heart; the words shared between them were akin to a blade that carved deeper into her wounded heart.

Nonetheless, she looked up to meet his gaze briefly, offering the smallest smile she could muster at that point, well aware that they were still under the eyes of the ton. “I believe we could conclude our dat—meeting here, Lord Cha. I believe we’ve shown what we should have shown for the ton to believe us and discussed what we needed to be discussed.” Seonhye whispered, her voice barely above a soft murmur as she looked away.

Seonhye wanted to leave; she needed to leave.

“… therefore, I shall take my leave now. Thank you for the invitation. The cherry blossoms were beautiful. I will see you at the wedding.” With a curt bow of her head, Seonhye doesn’t give him one last glance before she made her way toward Chunseok, her hands still trembling from the palpable tension that hung in the air.

[fin.]

@✿ geum hangyeol As the start of spring approached, unfolding a vibrant tapestry across the buildings in Hanseong, the air was infused with an undertone of flora from the flowers that had fully bloomed. The cherry blossom trees that lined up the streets this year had bloomed earlier than expected, dotting the landscape with pink-white clouds.

With the social season opening to foreign trading this year, the usual bustling market was now filled with vendors from all over the borders, offering an abundance of delectable seasonal delights. And for Chae Seonhye, who had her little humble food shelter right smacked in the middle of the busy affair, she had always appreciated moments like this where people of Hanseong would all come together to celebrate the joyous arrival of spring, irregardless of their societal status.

Having an appointment with an old friend that afternoon, Seonhye had no intention to stop by juk! juk! juk!, yet what she assumed by having a quick ‘drop by’ that morning led her running around like a headless chicken to and fro the kitchen and serving station, and even so, she found the queue of her establishment growing longer as the afternoon approached. Thankfully, help came in the form of her managing staff, and Seonhye could finally pry herself away, albeit unwillingly from the scene, in hopes she would still make it on time to meet her once lover but above all best friend, Geum Hangyeol.

With quick strides, Seonhye made her way to the promenade, her overcoat in her hand and her lady-in-waiting, Chunseok, following closely behind. The promenade was bustling with people when she arrived, which wasn’t to anyone’s surprise. It was known as a popular spot for lovers to parade and for potential suitors to meet. Despite the throng of promenade goers, it doesn’t take long for the young marchioness to spot a familiar figure she is well acquainted with. “hangyeol!” She called out, her feet running across the gravel pathway towards the male.

Even though they both resided in Hanseong, it had been a long time since Seonhye finally had the time to catch up with the newly appointed duke. She had missed the time when both were much more carefree, where duties didn’t matter and responsibility weren’t a thing. For a brief moment, Seonhye allowed herself to drift into her own little bubble, where she reminisced about the good times they shared, the laughter, the tears, and the awkward little kisses.

@✿ chae seonhye He listened with a sense of aloofness to Seonhye's words while his gaze remained fixed on the path ahead as they walked. The weather was beautiful, a stark contrast to the energy that emitted between them. There was a subtle chill, an uneasiness that seemed to have taken hold of them despite their proximity and the sun overhead.

Her words echoed in his mind, and he knew the truth of her words, that their union was a decision made from necessity rather than love. And Kiwoon could not bring himself to deny it.

As they reached the secluded spot in the park, he turned to face her with a rather unreadable expression. Her words hung heavily in the air between them like a silent acknowledgment of the reality of their situation. He could see the pain in her eyes, the sorrow that she tried so desperately to conceal.

Although it was a hard pill to swallow, he reflected silently and solemnly at the ‘terms and conditions’ she proposed. However, it was the mere mention of ‘Lady Kwon’ that allowed Kiwoon’s jaw to slightly tighten. It seemed, even she had been aware of the gossip that had occurred in the beginning of the year in which his name had been connected to the lady born of constellations. Still, Kiwoon did not falter and he remained distant until she had concluded her words.

It’s true that there was no love between them. He had chosen Seonhye to secure the political allegiance that his family so desperately needed in these troubled times. And while he knew that their marriage would be nothing more than a facade, a charade to appease the gossips and whispers of the ton, he couldn't help but realize from her words that she was well aware of his intention already and although it would be plenty reason for her to decline, she had still accepted.

The thought of using her in such a way was quite daunting and Kiwoon knew that she deserved better than what he could offer. But, he could not turn back now, could not undo the threads that had bound them to this moment.

"You may call me by any title you see fit,” he told her, “though, I do not see a reason for us to be so informal with one another either, Lady Chae. I would prefer it if you did not call me by name.” His demeanor was nonchalant yet withdrawn. “Since you are well aware of what you’ve agreed to, ‘My Lord’, may be well fitting between the both of us.”

Kiwoon glanced away from her fleetingly, mindful of the curious distant gazes on them. “As your future lawful husband, I may not be able to offer you love,” he replied, his voice firm and unwavering, "but I can promise you this—”

He turned his body towards her again, hand fetching for her wrists as he discerned the skin for no purpose whatsoever, but just to allow the curious eyes upon them to assume his behavior was filled with sentiment for the woman before him.

“You will be the only duchess to my estate,” he reminded her. “I do not covet anyone—not anymore.” His breath seemed to pause, as if to brush away a memory in his mind, before quickly finishing his words, “you will be treated with dignity and respect as long as you understand your place. Does this make sense, Lady Chae?"

@✿ moon jaehoon It didn't escape her astute observation—the subtle hesitation that flickered across his face, the fleeting glimpse of regret that flashed in his eyes when he had inadvertently cut her. The shallow wound stung as beads of blood seeped into the delicate fabric of her Hanfu, leaving behind stark crimson stains that marred the pastel hues of her attire. It was moments like these that reminded her why she always opted for darker clothing during undercover missions—the bloodstains were less conspicuous, less likely to betray her presence.
Weishan couldn't help but wonder if he had remembered the girl she once was—the girl she had fought so hard to bury in the depths of her being. Xiao Lanhua, the name she had shed like a snake shedding its skin, had become little more than a distant memory, a ghost of her past that she had tried so desperately to forget.
Yet, despite her best efforts to bury her former identity, there were moments when it seemed to claw its way back to the surface, haunting her like a specter from the past.

Beneath the penetrating gaze of the Lord, Weishan found herself wavering, if only for a fleeting moment. Could it be that he was letting her go? The thought lingered in her mind, casting doubt upon her resolve. If he truly intended to release her, then there was no need for her to take any further action against him. She could walk away, free from the entanglements of their complicated relationship, and this encounter could mark their final meeting.

Yet, as the realization washed over her, a faint undercurrent of melancholy tugged at her heartstrings—a sensation unfamiliar and unsettling. She should have been relieved at the prospect of no longer crossing paths with Moon Jaehoon, of severing ties with the man who had caused her so much turmoil. And yet, in his moment of hesitation, she found herself hesitating as well.
The uncertainty of their parting hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension that suffused the space between them. For Weishan, it was a moment fraught with conflicting emotions—a delicate balance between the desire to break free from the past and the lingering doubts that held her back. As she stood before him, poised on the precipice of a decision, she couldn't help but wonder if this hesitation would ultimately lead her down a path she never could have anticipated.

The sudden absence of his warmth as he pulled away, releasing her from his grasp, served as a jarring wake-up call for Weishan. In that fleeting moment, she was reminded of who she truly was—an assassin, devoid of sentiment or emotion, bound by the chains of duty to Wufeng. The realization washed over her like a cold shower, stripping away the illusions of warmth and affection that had clouded her judgment.
She was a tool, a weapon to be wielded by those who held power over her, and her only path to freedom lay in completing her mission. Moon Jaehoon was nothing more than a distraction—a distraction she’s finally ridding herself of.

"I hope this is the last time we see each other... Jaehoon," Weishan murmured, her voice tinged with a mixture of resignation and determination. With a deft motion, she wiped the blood from her neck with the sleeve of her hanfu, her gaze steady as she met his eyes one last time.

Retrieving her dagger, she sheathed it once more, the cold metal glinting in the dim light. Without another word, she her heel and began to walk away, each step carrying her further from the tumultuous past she had shared with Moon Jaehoon.

As she disappeared into the shadows, a sense of finality settled over them both, the unspoken acknowledgment that their paths had diverged irreparably. For Weishan, it was a moment of liberation—a chance to break free from the chains that had bound her to him and embrace the uncertain future that lay ahead.

@✿ cha kiwoon To say Seonhye wasn’t nervous would have been an understatement. As silly as it sounded, she remembered checking herself out in the mirror at least three times that morning, making sure her outfit had been smoothed out properly, with not a single crease in sight, and that the colors she wore were coordinated; her hair tied up with a matching ddaengi, adorned with multiple flower pins, nothing too overboard yet nothing too little; dusted across her cheeks was a sheer layer of rouge and a subtle pink shade across her lips that complimented her overall makeup.

While their union was something both families had agreed to voluntarily, Seonhye knew that it was inevitable that the tongues of the ton would still wag. After all, it’s not everyday that a yangban lady from a prominent household such as the House of Black Tortoise would be silly enough to agree to such a disadvantageous marriage during such tumultuous times the Cha family was facing, and to further add on, it had been their second engagement. There was no doubt that their impending union would have aroused suspicions of it being a potential political marriage, and the young marchionesses knew that was the last thing Kiwoon or her wanted the public to know. If she was going to be Kiwoon’s lady, his duchess, she wanted the ton to know that this decision was nothing but pure love shared between them and not an obligation.

“As much as I would love to appreciate these cherry blossoms with you, I believe there is much to discuss between us, Lord Cha." Seonhye replied, following his lead as they started their stroll. It was to no surprise as soon as they stepped foot on the pathway that the hushy gossip started. “Why her?” She picked up a comment as they walked past a group of people. “Look at him. He definitely isn’t in love with her,” the other one replies. Despite the vile comments that left their lips, Seonhye uncurled her fingers that were balled up into a tight fist unknowingly, and with a slight tilt of her head, the marchionesses looked up to meet her future husband’s gaze. “… or would you rather I call you my husband, Kiwoon-ah?”

However, the lady doesn’t wait for his reply; knowing her, his answer would simply bring her disappointment, but that doesn’t stop the lady from curling her fingers around the sleeves of his durumagi in a gentle grip. If they both wanted to put on a show, it had better be a flawless one. “Worry not, my lord. reassured that we will have no physical contact behind the walls of our estate in the future, and this is nothing but a mere show.” She reassured him, yet her statement left a slight pang in her heart, a stark reminder that he would never be hers entirely.

“With that, I believe we should discuss the terms and conditions of our marriage.” Again, the words ‘terms’ and ‘condition’ felt like a harsh slap to the young lady, but there was no one to blame but herself for readily accepting this proposal.

“I’ve seen the letter you wrote to my brother. I might have convinced Seongyeom Orabeoni that this union would bring greater good to both our families. But between you and me, we both know I’m your only option to ensure a stable political allegiance for your family during such dire times, and I know if there were any other options available, you would rather not go through with this.”

As they approached a secluded spot in the park, Seonhye halted in her step before turning to face the taller male, releasing her hold on his sleeves. “Lord Cha, I do not expect you to love me; I do not ask you to burn for me; I will not even stop you from seeking Lady Kwon’s company..” At the mention of the madame of the reputable hanbanman, her voice fazed the slightest through a soft whisper as she averted her gaze, hoping the other would never be able to see through her heartache and pain. “... all I ask for is that you respect me as your lawful wife and the future duchess of your household once we wed.” ‘And that would be enough’ Seonhye is tempted to add, but she knew it would never be enough. However, who was Seonhye to bargain for more?

The young marchioness used to joke about love being blind, yet, in such a situation, she found herself being the perfect testament to that statement.

@✾ feng weishan As Jaehoon held Weishan pinned against the wall, his gaze softened as he studied her face, illuminated by slivers of light that filtered through the darkness. Despite the tension of their confrontation, he couldn't help but notice the subtle contours of her features, the delicate curve of her jawline, and the way her eyes reflected a mixture of fear and defiance. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing in the silence of the dimly lit shelter.

As Jaehoon held onto Weishan's wrists, his fingers tightening around them, he couldn't help but feel a surge of conflicting emotions. The blade pressed against her fair skin, a thin line of red liquid oozing out, a stark contrast against her pale complexion. In that moment, he was acutely aware of the power he held over her, the delicate balance between life and death resting in his hands. Despite her attempts at deception and the danger she posed, he couldn't help but detect a glimmer of vulnerability in her eyes, a haunting reminder of the girl he had once sheltered in his home. The memory of their past encounter lingered in the recesses of his mind, casting a shadow over the present confrontation.

In that moment, he was transported back to their first encounter in Wonju, where he had offered her refuge in the Moon Residence. He remembered the vulnerability she had displayed then, the way her eyes had pleaded for safety and sanctuary. And now, as he looked at her, he saw glimpses of that same vulnerability, hidden beneath layers of deception and desperation.

Jaehoon's brow furrowed in contemplation as he listened to her words, his gaze never wavering from her face. He could sense the weight of her desperation, the urgency of her plea for freedom. Despite the danger she posed, he couldn't ignore the flicker of humanity he saw in her eyes, a reminder of the girl he had once known.

For a moment, he hesitated, torn between his duty as a lord and the memory of the frightened girl he had once sheltered. With a heavy sigh, Jaehoon loosened his grip on her wrists, the blade slipping away from her skin. He released her, allowing her to step back from the wall, his gaze never leaving hers.

"I will let you go," he finally said, his voice firm yet tinged with uncertainty. "But know this, Weishan. If I ever catch wind of your involvement in any nefarious activities in Hanseong, I will not hesitate to bring you to justice."

@✿ moon jaehoon Maybe she underestimated the lord, maybe she thought he wouldn't anticipate the blade aimed towards him but when he out maneuvers her, Weishan knew that stealth had nothing against the disparity of their strength. And Jaehoon had won. Weishan grunts when her back hits the brick wall and her own dagger now turned against her. In the intimate proximity, she could discern his features more clearly. Despite the obstructive bridge blocking out much of the sunlight, she can see his facial muscles tense, his brow furrowed as he gripped her arm, effectively pinning it against the wall. If anyone were to pass by at that precise moment, they would mistake them for lovers engaged in a clandestine rendezvous, their affair hidden from prying eyes and both their families, rather than the truth of the situation.


As their chests heaved rapidly in the intense struggle for dominance, Weishan found herself utterly overpowered by him. Despite her best efforts, she was rendered completely powerless, her final futile attempt thwarted by his overwhelming display of strength. In that moment, she felt herself teetering on the brink of resignation, realizing that her mission had been irrevocably compromised. She was unable to carry out her objective of eliminating him, a fact that weighed heavily upon her as she grappled with the reality of her predicament.


"So you were the assailant that night," Jaehoon's voice was low and steady, his gaze piercing as he confronted her with the truth.

It was not a question. She knew the lord had come to a conclusion based on the very same dagger that she used to clash with him. A pained wince crossed her features as he applied pressure, pressing the dagger's polished steel against her skin, the sharp edge cutting into her flesh with a subtle, yet undeniable, force. Each slight movement sent a jolt of discomfort through her

"Y-yes I was the assailant the other night. I was just surveying the area as I had just arrived in Hanseong and you happened to be there. Why were you there?" She asks, meeting his eye once more. She had been in such close proximity with countless men before, whether to finish them off or to ensnare them with the allure of her beauty but she had never for a second once stopped to regard them in such situation unlike she did with him now. To think that one wrong move might either end her or lead to something more, Weishan looks away. She should focus on trying to stay alive at least. Try to think of a way to escape her predicament.


"I'm the price for your freedom?"

His question drew her gaze back to him, causing Weishan to cease her struggling, her hand lying limp where he had pinned it. A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips, though it failed to fully reach her nearly soulless eyes. It was a smile tinged with a silent plea, an unspoken appeal to whatever remnants remained of the Jaehoon she had encountered all those years ago, a glimmer of hope that perhaps some trace of his former self still lingered within him.

"No, but you're an obstacle to getting it. You know far too much my lord. And I cant... I cant risk you knowing of Wufeng. It compromises my mission. You either end me here and now or let me go so I may hope to finish it." She says, resigning her fate. Gambling it on the lord who held her captive.