⁝ teahouse.

@❁ song narae Eunhyuk hums thoughtfully. He does understand the way she thinks about marriage. He isn't a romantic at heart, no, but as an artist, he is quite inclined to think in similar ways. "Well, I do not think it's wrong to think of marriage that way." He doesn't have any right to say anything, really. "Isn't it a contract at most, anyway? To serve purposes or duty, or whatever they like to call it. Some do it for the sake of their clans. What would you marry for?"

For the longest time, he has never thought about marriage, other than a bond between two people who supposedly are in love with one another. It is what his mother has taught him before, that such a union is created upon the merging of two hearts in love. But growing up has only taught him many things, even in his isolation.

Watching many of the upper classes get married has only told him of the reality: love is not always needed for such a union. It is transactional, at best. Or at least, that is what society deems to be correct.

His eyes do widen a little, however, at the way she describes him, and he can't help the way he chuckles at it, genuinely amused. Of course, Narae isn't the first one to tell him that, which isn't something he likes to brag about. It is his surface level self, after all, the Bae Eunhyuk that the world knows. The painter whose hands create masterpieces even out of casual portraits. (Or at least, that is what they say. In truth, he merely hopes to make the world more beautiful in his hands, even if the truth isn't anywhere near the image he portrays.)

"You flatter me too much, Narae. I'm just an artist, a painter who has nothing much to offer than artworks," he says, still an amused smile on his lips. Is this humility, or is this confidence? One can only wonder. He hums again, before he leans forward, almost as if looking to whisper. "But you see, Narae, I haven't found a woman that I want to marry. And I never will, for..." he falters, briefly, blinking as he looks down at his tea, and his voice lowers into a whisper, "... for the one I wish to marry is not a woman."

@✿ moon jaehoon If smiles could melt snow, the duke's warm smile would have been radiant enough to usher in the beginning of spring. However, the countess, not inclined to openly give compliments to boost egos, particularly those of her work superiors like the vice minister, wouldn't have said so directly or boldly.

“I wish to know of their preferences so I can prepare a more appropriate gift next time. They were really kind when we visited. Despite the governor mistaking me for your duchess.”

With a casual jest, she reminisces about the day when the governor mistakenly assumed she was the duke's duchess, causing her to turn aside in embarrassment. Reflecting on it now, she supposes it made sense—they were not far apart in age and had arrived together looking somewhat cordial.

Though that trip now feels like ages ago as they sit face to face, the memory of clearing up their misunderstanding at Go's wedding remains fresh. Jaehoon had willingly accepted her offer to walk her home that night.

If only she had known he would eagerly accept the small token she had embroidered for him, she would have gladly crafted two more. Perhaps a cloth for polishing his sword, if he had one. A quick observation of his posture and build hinted at his proficiency with the blade. He exuded a similar air to her cousins, which made being in his presence surprisingly comfortable for Riah. Yet, she couldn't quite pinpoint why this connection felt so natural.
She observed his eager expression as he unwrapped the small box she presented him, witnessing his face light up upon discovering the silver handkerchief embroidered with a delicate crescent moon and the hanja character for "Moon."

“If I only knew your preferences, I would have also prepared a gift that would be more suited to your taste. I imagine a handkerchief would be quite useless…”

Though with the way he smiled and appreciated every thread that she had embroidered on it told Riah that he would treasure the handkerchief. It somehow puts her at ease.

When it was his turn to present her with Governor Kim’s gifts, Riah's face lit up at the sight of Dasik, her favorite sweets. In moments like these, her usual façade melted away, revealing her genuine joy—a rare sight for those who knew the countess, as she bestowed her smiles upon very few.

“These look delightful. I have not seen Dasik quite like these.”

She notes the difference in colors and shapes. They are indeed more vibrant and appeared better made than any Dasik the countess has ever seen in Hanseong. She places her hands on the table as if eagerly anticipating teatime if only to try the sweets.

“I would like to write to them and express my thanks. Dasik happen to be my favorite and I have not seen this kind before.”

She remarks, pointing at the different shapes, sizes and hues of the sweets. Who knew that the countess of the house of the Tiger was easily won by such things. She had all the finery in life and yet, she is at Dasik and tea’s mercy.
When she realizes that she might have been a little too enthusiastic, she clears softly before returning to the perfect posture in which she sat down prior to being presented with sweets.

The scent pouch that Jaehoon presented next had almost lost the signature jasmine scent that Riah was known for, yet it remained pristine and unchanged from when she first lost it. This attention to detail reassured her that the duke had taken care of her possession. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she noticed his thoughtful gesture.

“I told you, that you need not return something so trivial to me.”

She says and yet her actions betray her words as she retrieves it from the table. Each scent pouch that the countess carried was hand embroidered by her. All equally important and when she found out that she was missing this one, she felt something akin to sadness. Despite convincing herself that it was just a small trinket that she could easily repurchase.

“Still, thank you…”

Riah raised an eyebrow at the final gift, not expecting the duke to give her one in return after she had given him a gift. As she pondered this, she recalled that only very close friends—or lovers—exchanged gifts during the New Year. The thought made warmth spread across her cheeks momentarily, but she quickly dismissed it. After all, they were only meeting because he had to deliver something from the governor, and he probably picked up the beautiful jade norigae for her on a whim, right?

“Thank you…I have nothing like it. To be quite honest with you.” It was either the duke had a great taste in general, or he paid attention to what she liked because coincidentally, the pink of the norigae matched her hanbok and since she was not wearing any other accessories, she put it on without a second thought. Showing him after.

“Does it suit me?” She looks at him, eager to gauge his reaction.

As Riah showed Jaehoon the jade norigae on her jeogori, she then turned her attention to the selection of tea before her. Initially thinking of trying something different, she knew she would inevitably gravitate towards rosehip or jasmine tea. Before she could voice her preference, however, the duke stood and leaned towards her, a gesture that puzzled the countess.

Feeling his warm hand gently brushing the melting snowflakes from her head, Riah felt a rush of warmth spread across her cheeks once more, dispelling the chill from the earlier icy winds.

“How come you noticed so late.” Would be her only retort before blindly pointing at jasmine tea.

“I..I would like jasmine tea. Thank you.”

“My family has been well. Surely as Yangbans we are not to feel the famine’s effects no matter how bad it gets.” She says before sighing when he mentions work.

“I wish for work to cease for an entire week, for I am exhausted, my lord. However, since you hold a higher position, I can only imagine the amount of workload you are currently juggling. How /are/ you?”

@❁ bae eunhyuk "I do not know, honestly", Narae replied softly, more and more of her delicate mask and pretend-personality melting away from both her behavior, her features and voice, revealing the girl beneath little by little. The glint in her eyes, the curl of her lips, the mischief always lurking somewhere in the depths of her cat-like visage, the look on her face sometimes making her appear as if she had gotten to the cream. Narae never understood why people would claim that one could easily tell when she was at ease and when she simply was not, when she was speaking her earnest and when she was trying to appease someone instead. But perhaps right now, when she felt her spine straighten as if she was perking up, she suddenly understood. "To some people, it might be a thing of convenience. To me, it is simply something out of reach. I don't know if I desire to be married out of love, or for other reasons. Isn't it a thing of convenience and mutual security, to most people? I've never been in love, so I can't honestly answer your question, Eunhyuk. As a woman, perhaps I should think it to be a matter of love. But I don't color myself educated on the matters of the heart, nor the matters of politics. I know about other things. And that has always been enough for me."

And then she paused, her lips pursing as she regarded him with a studying glance, her eyes traveling all the way from his hair, down to where his body disappeared behind the table, her eyes narrowing just briefly as her head tilted to the side, relaxing into a gentle smile right after.

"I do want to know", she nodded then, the movement careful. "Because, forgive me, but you're someone I would imagine a lot of women would be fortunate to marry. You are undoubtedly handsome, you are educated, you hold yourself with all the dignity and humbleness of a gentleman. A good man. I myself would be lucky to be able to get married to a man just like you. I'm sure you know your literature and art, or even the art of war. That is why I'm so curious. So confused, even."

@✿ ryu songmin "Then why is it that I still do?" she responds in a quiet, asking manner, knowing full well that he---nor anyone had the answer to that question.

Much of everything was easier said than done, and Miryeong could not overcome this sense of betrayal that seemed to stricken every living strand of being existing within—despite wanting desperately to hold on to something good she never saw coming. Seeing the scriptures of pain and confusion written clearly across his features, she yearned with aching despair to reach up and soothe the frown and those lines of discontent away, but she could not. Alas, she had made her decision---a decision that could not be so easily retracted and forgotten.

Still, her tears betrayed her, falling down from her eyes unto her cheeks, her hands no longer busying or bothering to wipe them away. It would be no use, for more would fall to reassert themselves.

A heavy weight of loss sunk into her stomach the moment Songmin's hand released her jeogori from the anchor of his grasp, and she could not find it in herself to breath—instead, she gave one last nod to his farewell, muttering the words of 'Goodbye, my Lord' before turning away and leaving him behind, alone.

｡･:*:･ﾟ･ { ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴅ } ･ﾟ･:*:･｡

@❁ song narae Eunhyuk chuckles at the shake of Narae's head. "Perhaps I don't, but my parents think otherwise." He doesn't think, personally, that he's old. It does not feel that way, not when he feels as if his life has been closed off, isolated from the rest of the world. He feels as if he hasn't touched enough of the world to be called 'old,' though perhaps he can be called one, but never wise, for what does he know of the hearts that he still seeks to understand?

(But isn't that his doing in the first place? Had he not intended to put distance between him and the world around him, as a futile attempt at putting a wall of protection around himself? Had he been so unfamiliar with the world, that the unknown scares him, even if as an artist it should be what he seeks?)

He hums at the girl's response. "Don't you think marriage should be about love?" he says, knowing full well that the world has put another definition on the very bond. He will not pretend to know what it's supposed to be, but it is a fun thought to entertain, no? That marriage is not transactional, a business, but one that is formed out of love with another, despite classes, despite es—but that seems to be wistful thinking, when the world puts so much emphasis on what society demands. "Do you really want to know?" he asks, raising an eyebrow as he leans forward, resting his chin atop his palm. "I don't mind telling you."

@❁ bae eunhyuk How much could she tell this man in earnest? It didn't seem like he would report back to her parents and maybe that should have made her feel a little less on edge, but instead of answering him right away, she ended up heaving a small sigh, her gaze straying to the side as her teeth dug into her bottom lip hard enough to turn the tender flesh white beneath the pressure. Oh, well, she had already revealed that she had no desire to even try and marry him, she could go the entire way and just speak plainly. And so, with a small shrug, she turned to him, nodding in affirmation that his choice of tea was just alright. She didn't care much for tea, knew little to nothing about it either. He could have ordered whatever and told her it was the brew of the gods and she would believe him. As much as she wanted to claim that she was fierce and independent, she knew that, in reality, she was naive. She was young, already bitter and cynical in a way a woman her age shouldn't be.

"You don't seem old to me", she shook her head then, fingers wringing the fabric of her skirt almost nervously, a sigh making her shoulders shake ever so slightly.

"They're trying to marry me off quite desperately these days. They hope it will make a proper lady out of me make me less rebellions. I'm... I'm not the perfect daughter a man of your standing should even consider to marry. Forgive me for being forward. I know that marriage isn't about love at all, not really. But it also won't magically turn into the perfect lady or wife. What is the reason your parents give you? Your age? That can't be it, right? Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry, that was so improper of me to ask. Don't answer that."

@✿ seol riah As Jaehoon watched Riah's graceful entrance into the teahouse, her presence seemed to cast a soft glow over the quiet surroundings, illuminating the dimly lit interior with an ethereal charm. He couldn't help but admire the elegance with which she carried herself, every step deliberate and poised. The slight smile that graced her lips as she approached their table was enough to warm Jaehoon's heart despite the chill in the air outside. Her punctuality spoke volumes about her character, a small detail that did not go unnoticed by him. It also reminded him of their previous trip to the neighboring town, where Riah had been notably irritated by his punctuality. The memory elicited a small chuckle from Jaehoon, realizing now why she had emphasized punctuality again in her letter.

"Countess Seol," Jaehoon stood up and greeted her warmly with a small bow, his eyes reflecting the genuine pleasure he felt at her arrival. "Indeed, you're right on time," he added, his smile widening as he gestured for her to take a seat.

Riah's offering of a small box wrapped in pale blue silk caught Jaehoon off guard, his eyebrows raising in surprise. He accepted it with gratitude, "I thank you on their behalf," he said sincerely, his voice soft with appreciation. "I'm sure the Governor and his wife will cherish these."

But it was the revelation that Riah had also prepared a gift for him that truly took Jaehoon by surprise. He felt a warmth spread through him, a feeling that lingered despite the chilly weather outside. "You didn't have to," he murmured, his gaze meeting hers with a mix of gratitude and fondness. "But thank you. I'm deeply honored."

Jaehoon, almost like an excited child, unwrapped the parcel, although he paced his hands not to reveal too much of his excitement. His fingers traced the delicate fabric of the handkerchiefs as he contemplated the thoughtfulness behind the gesture. Each stitch seemed to carry a story, a testament to Riah's care and attention to detail. Jaehoon made a mental note to treasure the gift, knowing that it came from the heart. "It's really well done and intricate, Countess Seol."

With a sense of ceremony, Jaehoon presented the gifts from Governor Kim, "These are from Governor Kim," he explained, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "He told me they were the town's most popular sweets and would go well with tea."

Then, with a flicker of nostalgia, Jaehoon retrieved the scent pouch that Riah had dropped on the night of Go's wedding, a tangible reminder of their shared history. He offered it to her with a gentle smile, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of warmth and nostalgia. "I believe this belongs to you," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Finally, he reached for the last gift—a small jade norigae adorned with pastel pink accents. Jaehoon had picked it out during his last visit to the neighboring town, a token of his appreciation for Riah's friendship and the memories they had shared together. "And this is my own gift to you," he explained, his voice gentle yet firm. "You probably have plenty, but I still hope you like it."

As the servers approached, Jaehoon turned his attention back to Riah, eager to ensure her comfort. "Please, choose whatever tea you'd like," he urged her, gesturing towards the selection of teas displayed on the menu. "I'm not sure what your preferences are, but I'm certain they have something to your liking."

Before she could respond, Jaehoon noticed a few melting snowflakes nestled in Riah's hair. With a small gesture, he stood up and gently brushed them away, a gesture of care and attention to detail. "My apologies," he said softly, his gaze warm and sincere. "I noticed that you left a little snow. A lady wouldn't want to be seen in public with anything less than perfect."

As he resumed his seat, Jaehoon couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him. In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of lantern light and the comforting presence of Riah by his side, he knew that everything was as it should be.

"Has your family been doing alright at this time?" He was referring to the famine. "I know work has been tough on you, and the entire office."

@❁ song narae The remark from the younger lady only earns a smile from Eunhyuk, though it does not quite reach his eyes. It is quite a relief, however, to know that there will not be many objections from her, at least to what he plans for this connection of theirs. Neither of them is interested in the other romantically, which makes this a lot easier. The ones his parents have introduced to him before had been... a little more difficult in turning down, if only because of their stubbornness. He knows what kind of visage he holds, knows how attractive he is to most people, and while eventually he has learned to use it almost like a weapon, a tool to get what he wants, he finds that he prefers it much better when people leave him alone.

He finds the most comfort, after all, in silence solitude these days.

"My parents?" Eunhyuk hums, tilting his head to one side slightly. "They're rather afraid that I might grow old alone." And he might be most interested in men than women—but those words do not leave his mouth. It isn't too far from the truth anyway. The only one who has occupied his mind and heart is a man, after all. There is no denying it. He's learned that denying it would only cause him to think about it even more. He already yearns for the man anyway, so why should he deny it now?

"I am quite old, but you seem to be quite young to be set up with me," he says, raising an eyebrow. He isn't aware exactly of how much younger Narae is compared to him, but it is evident in her youthful visage, a glint in her eyes that one mostly sees in the youth these days. "My parents have been trying to marry me off for a while now. Is that the case with you as well?"

He smiles then, turning to the server. "Citron tea for us, please," comes his easy answer. When the server leaves, Eunhyuk turns back to Narae with a sheepish smile. "I hope you don't mind that? It was... well, it was the first thing that came to mind."

@❁ bae eunhyuk A curious thing, men. Eunhyuk struck her as someone who would surely be popular with the ladies, or even the same gender, yet he didn't carry himself with the arrogance some other handsome men would and while that made a small spark of relief trickle down her spine as she shuffled around to be more comfortable, it also made her feel a little out of place. Not necessarily because he didn't seem like the usually arrogant upper class man, but simply because she knew how to deal with /those/. A tongue as sharp as her father's swords could do a whole lot to a man's ego.

"It is bold to assume you know what I want", she remarked with the slightest hint of a smile, but the words held no heat, nor did they carry any bite. Instead, it only made her sound humored and perhaps the relief she felt carried along with those words as well. "I agree, though. A nice dinner sounds nice, even if it us just to satiate my own curiosity. I wonder what made your parents agree to this attempt at setting us up in the first place."
But before she was able to say anything else, a server hurried over to ask for her tea order, for which she cast a slightly unsure glance at the young man sitting across from her.
"Please, Eunhyuk, do me the honors of choosing. I'd like for us to share and talk freely, this evening."

@❁ song narae "Narae it is then," Eunhyuk says easily. Narae's confusion does not go unnoticed. Perhaps he has come off too friendly? He's belatedly remembered that she's younger than him by a couple of years, and so perhaps he shouldn't have told her to disregard honorifics altogether... Well, it isn't as if he's the type to care for that in the first place. If there is anything he's great at (aside from his painting, of course; it would be a shame if that isn't his greatest talent), it will be disregarding what society demands of him. Perhaps it is his constant solitude (by his own intention) from the rest of the world, but he finds that it is far more freeing the moment he steps away from the buzz of the main city.

A lot of his peers ought to realize that, really.

Her words do bring him back. Ah... At least, they are on the same page. This will not be difficult then. "I don't blame you," he says, shrugging his shoulders lightly with a faint smile on his lips. Amusement flickers in his eyes, paired with a sort of exhaustion to it. "I'm not entirely certain what to do, but it is a relief to know that you wish the same thing as me." His words are a slight gamble, but she doesn't look all too keen at marrying him either. She doesn't even look interested, even for his face, which is often something that both men and women take a liking to. "Well, there doesn't have to be anything that comes out of this. We can both enjoy a dinner together, toast to making a new friend, or we can leave. Either way, I do not think either of our parents will be able to do anything however we decide to go with this."

@❁ bae eunhyuk For a moment, Narae paused and simply looked at him, confused and stunned ever so slightly at the casual way he addressed her, his voice a pleasant lilt as he told her his name. He was older than her, her mother had said. A higher rank. She had to be on her best behavior. That's what her mother had said. Or maybe the way her mother had pulled her hair back to untangle it had done some damage to her head, who knew? But despite the bitter thoughts swimming in her head, she chuckled and nodded in agreement, taking a seat across from him, studying him for several silent, dragging moments. It was impolite to stare, she knew. Did she care? Perhaps a little bit. Yet her mother thought it would be a good idea to throw her at this stranger, so she had every right to be impolite /and/ stare.

"Then please call me Narae", she smiled at him, but the curl of her lips barely met her eyes, her mind still trying to put the jagged pieces of this puzzle together. Her mother had been truthful about one thing, at least. Eunhyuk was handsome. If conventionally attractive type was what a woman wanted, at least. And Narae was not above admitting that she did find him handsome. In a very pleasant, non-threatening way. She cleared then, picking residue soot from beneath her thumbnail beneath the table as subtly as she could, the smile on her kittenish lips widening ever so slightly. "I won't beat around the bush, since we're speaking comfortably. Did they tell you why we are supposed to meet and make acquaintances today? I assume they did, no? Forgive me for being forward about this, but I'm not entirely sure what to make of the situation."

@❁ song narae Song Narae is a beautiful lady. This much Eunhyuk can admit to himself. With eyes shaped similarly to that of a cat's and a pair of lips that curves rather prettily into a smile, he has to wonder why there isn't anyone who's decided to court her yet. But every family has their own issues, and he cannot be bothered to even pretend caring. After all, he knows what this meeting is for. This is a formality, something he will entertain if only to satisfy his own parents who have been pestering him to get a wife.

("You're almost 30, and yet you still have no plans on settling!" and "When will you marry, Eunhyuk-ah?" and "There have been rumors that you... you have had romantic endeavors with men. Stop doing something that'll bring shame to us!")

It is almost hilarious, really. Would they be disappointed, had they known about the men he's touched? The men he's kissed, the men he's gone to bed with? The answer is obvious.

"Oh, please. Drop the titles. Feel free to call me by name," Eunhyuk says smoothly, smiling, bowing his head slightly. It's an easy smile, one often reserved for clients and acquaintances who manage to catch him when he's not being elusive. "And the pleasure is mine. I haven't been waiting for long, do not worry. I've just arrived a little bit before you did."

@❁ cheon suho "Whoever is fortunate enough to win my heart," she echoed softly, her eyes locked with his. Little did he realize that in that fleeting moment, he cradled her heart in his grasp, unaware that he had unwittingly shattered the very heart she had lovingly entrusted to him.

“No such thing. Love is a luxury that no matter how rich I am, I will not be able to afford.”
Not when your eyes are fixed on another. Not when I'm certain that you'll never regard me with the same warmth you reserve for her.

Riah found herself unable to muster the courage to confess her feelings or reveal that he was the constant presence in her thoughts and dreams. She berated herself for harboring the naive hope that he might one day look at her with new eyes. Yet with a heavy heart, she accepted the bitter truth. At least now, she could release herself from the grip of her futile daydreams and face reality head-on.

"I shall no longer hold you back, orabeoni," Seol Riah spoke with a bittersweet tone. "Having shared valuable knowledge with you, I hope you waste no time in winning her heart. Though I suspect she may already have feelings for you."
It was a poignant moment for Seol Riah as she began to come to terms with the reality that Suho would only ever be an unrequited first love. She had heard that most women don't end up with their first love, but the knowledge didn't ease the ache in her heart.

Suho was meant to be her prince charming, just like the ones she had read about in books. He possessed the countenance and demeanor of a prince, so why couldn't he be hers?
She was certain she would trade all the luxuries—the whims, the silk hanboks, the expensive jewelry, even her precious daggers—if it meant she could have his love and affection.

But Suho is the one selfish whim that Riah will not be able to attain.
“No need to walk me home. I have a palanquin waiting for me outside. But do take care. Orabeoni. I shall be wishing for your happiness from this day on. Write to me…”

In a moment of pure selfishness, she reached out to gently grasp his hand with her smaller, colder ones. She pretended it was an innocent gesture, though deep down she knew this might be the last time she'd touch someone who had caused her so much pain in such a brief span of time.

His hand felt warm against her chilled fingers, like a radiant sun melting the icy storm within Seol Riah. She held on just a fraction tighter, savoring the fleeting connection, before releasing a deep breath and reluctantly letting him go. It was the first and last time she would hold his hand, a memory etched into her heart forever.

“Take care on your way home..” She smiles at him, one final smile before she rises from her seat and turns around to finally walk away.

The young countess summoned all her courage to visit the teahouse with hopeful anticipation. Yet, it required even greater courage for her to resist the urge to demand his reciprocation and instead choose to quietly walk away.
After stepping through the ornate front doors of the teahouse, Riah quickly made her way to her waiting palanquin. Inside the enclosed space of the carriage, away from prying eyes and the curious gazes of the world, the countess allowed herself to release the flood of emotions she had been holding back.

Alone in the dimly lit interior, she poured her heart out, her sobs echoing against the fabric-covered walls. Each tear that fell carried the weight of unspoken longing and shattered hopes. She wept without restraint, finding solace in the anonymity of her grief, knowing that in this private moment of vulnerability, she could freely express the depths of her heartache.

[fin.]

@❁ bae eunhyuk [ dated : november of 1869 ]

Of all the things her mother could have said to her while fussing over her to make her appear prim and proper, scrubbing soot from beneath her fingernails, paint from her arms, put of her hair, was surely: it'll finally bring honor to the family. Narae hated that phrase. Hated the fact that the only way she could do that in her mother's eyes, was to get married and have children. Well. The curse said she would never be able to do that. So what was the point? What was the point in scamming a poor man who might have earnest intentions, into trying to marry her and produce offspring for his bloodline? She'd bring shame onto yet another family, in the end.

But she went. She went, because a part of her wanted her mother to smile at her and nod, tell her how pretty she was with the paint on her lips and the oiled lashes, with her mother's jade needle in her hair. Their most valuable piece of jewelry and Narae could not care any less. There was no chance for her to run, she realized, what with her mother following her so closely, she might as well have taken her by the hand like a child, all but ing her into the tavern and pointing in the direction of a man who... looked just as /elated/ to be here as Narae felt. Oh, joy.

"My lord", she simpered when she arrived at the table he was sitting at - what was his name again? Eunbyun? No, certainly not... - bowing as gracefully as she could with how tightly her mother had pulled the waistband of her hanbok. Cursed woman. She already didn't have the most... prolific looking body anyway. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm under the impression you have been waiting for me? A letter arriving at our house informed me of the time and place of our meeting. Have you been early, or have I been tardy?"

@❁ song narae [ dated : november, 1869 ]

This is likely to be the most ridiculous thing that the current heads of the Bae clan have ever done—to Eunhyuk, at least. God knows what other ridiculous things they've done to his siblings when he isn't looking. Perhaps it's his older brother that might know more about what their parents are capable of, and perhaps Eunhyuk asked for his... err, insight toward certain things, because Eunhyuk certainly did not expect to be sitting at the teahouse, awaiting the arrival of a woman he has never even heard of or even seen before. Of course, he knows that he can simply stand up and leave—there would be nothing stopping him, unless his parents are tailing after him, which he doesn't believe they would do.

Surely, they aren't that obsessed with the idea of marrying him off, are they?

Of course he knows what this is for. They have dropped hints of it before. Ever since he's stopped having people warm his bed at night, they have worried. They've worried about, well, his uality. He knows because they mention that every time the opportunity rises. No, he hasn't dated anyone in the past few years of his life (not since he's broken things off with Geon, perhaps the only man that he's let stay by his side as long as Geon has). No, he isn't interested in both men and women at this point, his interest only becoming piqued when it means a new muse for his art.

(But even that doesn't work. Even that doesn't make him like what he paints. And it is rare that he hates his paintings. These paintings are *his* life, *his* heart, so what does it mean if he doesn't like any of them?)

With a soft sigh, he lets his gaze wander around, observing the crowd. What does he know of this woman? He knows nothing but her name, and that she is younger than he is. A part of him begins to hope then, that she does not recognize who he is, and that she leaves instead of finding him. Save them both the trouble of trying to be cordial when he's certain the both of them know what their parents want will not come to fruition. Oh, now he is praying it rather strongly. Will the gods listen to him this time, he wonders?

@✿ moon jaehoon Word of the crop affliction had already reached the Seol estate, and Riah was among the first in Hanseong to hear this unfortunate news due to her government position. Initially, she hadn't given it much thought or concern. However, as the gravity of the situation sank in, she realized that she might be facing a significant increase in her workload.
The prospect of having to work even harder, especially with the Office of Inspection already understaffed, left the countess feeling irked and frustrated. The looming national emergency meant that her responsibilities could potentially double, adding to the already overwhelming pile of tasks she diligently attended to.

Despite potential criticism from others, Seol Riah made the decision to rise on New Year's Day without dwelling on the looming famine crisis. Instead, she chose to dress in a pale pink and grey hanbok adorned with a matching white fur overcoat. She had promised to meet a certain gentleman for tea, and Riah held steadfast to her commitment—something she valued deeply, whether written or spoken.
The countess abhorred the notion of people not honoring their word. Therefore, she resolved to keep her promise regardless of the circumstances. However, uncertainty lingered in her mind. Would the duke, like any ordinary citizen, assume that current events would preclude their tea meeting? Riah pondered this as she prepared to venture out, unsure if he would indeed show up as planned.

Despite feeling somewhat disconnected from reality, Riah remained steadfast in her resolve. She was a woman of strong opinions, often at odds with those around her, yet she paid little heed to popular sentiment. Stepping outside her room after finishing her preparations, she was greeted by a breathtaking sight—a delicate blanket of white snow falling from the heavens.
For a moment, Riah allowed herself to appreciate the beauty of the snowy landscape, a slight smile playing on her lips. However, the serene scene quickly reminded her of the urgency to depart. If she lingered too long, she risked being late—a scenario she wished to avoid at all costs. In her correspondence with the duke, she had expressly emphasized her disdain for tardiness, considering it hypocritical to expect punctuality from others while failing to uphold it herself. With this in mind, Riah gathered her composure and hurried off.

Riah swiftly entered her palanquin, eager to shield herself from the chill that threatened to seep through her layers of clothing. The short ride to the teahouse proceeded smoothly, the streets notably quiet and sparsely populated on New Year's Day. Most of the ton, adhering to tradition, chose to remain indoors with their families to celebrate the occasion.
The absence of bustling crowds was a welcome respite for Riah, allowing her thoughts to drift as the palanquin gently swayed along the deserted streets.

“Thank you, you may stay here or come home and be back in I would say two hours? No more than that.” She instructs her servants before heading inside the establishment.
The teahouse was quiet and sparsely populated, with only a few tables occupied by patrons engaged in subdued conversation. This allowed the countess to easily spot the duke from where he sat. A small smile played on her lips as she noted that he had arrived promptly, evidently heeding the warning in her missive about punctuality.
Riah brushed off the snow that had collected on her chima before proceeding toward the duke with deliberate and graceful strides. She was mindful of her manners as she approached him
.
“Duke Moon. It is good to know that you’re not late. I made it on time did I not?”
She says, still smiling as she took her seat in front of him. Riah did not forget the gifts that she had prepared for Governor Kim and his wife. She hands Jaehoon a small box wrapped in pale blue silk.

“With such short notice and no knowledge of the governor’s tastes, I just took it upon myself to embroider them handkerchiefs.” She slides the box towards his direction before handing him another small box.

“I had extra fabric. So, I embroidered you one as well.”
It felt rather odd. Gifting someone who was not Eunbyeol, Aera, her brother or cousins something. The countess after all was accustomed to be the receiving end of gifts.

“Happy New Year..I suppose.”

@❀ yang minkyung Upon the very sight of her older sister, Seoyul immediately felt her stomach coil, tightening with a familiar discomfort. Minkyung’s presence had always stirred a mixture of emotions within her—admiration, envy, and an underlying intimidation that she could never quite place a time or event as to when she first started to feel such a way. However, as her older sister smiled upon her with a somewhat constructed kindred facade, Seoyul felt her hands tighten on her teacup.

Seoyul resisted wanting to shrink into her chair and disappear under the gentle rolls and flutters of the other’s eyes. She had always felt small in Minkyung’s presence as if the gap between them had constantly widened through the years. It was only when she realized growing up how Minkyung had become the apple of her stepmother’s eyes that it fueled resentment for the older girl, for how could she easily allow that woman to replace their mother with such ease?

Yet, she had little time to dwell on her thoughts and the past, for a wave of panic washed over her the moment Minkyung brought up the topic of her secret business. She had tried her best to keep her matchmaking services hidden from her family, especially from their stepmother and Minkyung who boasted a well-known agency of their own for the upperclassmen of society. But now, her sister has discovered her secret, and Seoyul wondered, who else knew, but if Minkyung had decided to keep it a secret—why?

She swallowed hard, steeling herself against her sister’s possible motives as a surge of defiance rose within her. She straightened in her seat, meeting her sister's gaze, “why? Are you going to tell that woman?” Her voice was steady despite the tremor in her hands.

@✿ seol riah It seemed to be true that Cheon Suho really did not know much about Seol Riah after all. For as much as her tears fell and as much as her voice shook and wavered in the stillness of the quaint teahouse, he could not allow himself to move an inch closer to her. Seated across from the young lady, he only watched helplessly as her tears shed like the sudden drizzle of summer rain; and he could neither find it in himself to be the shelter or the person who could shield her from the agony that took hold of her fragile heart.

If he had known better that he was the reason for her tears, for the torment that enraptured her heartache, then perhaps he could have offered her comfort, offered her a deserving apology for having hurt her feelings with his obliviousness.

But the veil of their roles had been firmly planted in the threshold of his mind for many years now, and to see past that would take time that no one would be able to track. And Riah, by fondness and moral adoration, was painted in the colors of a younger sister in his eyes—a cherished companion whose happiness he wished to safeguard, but whose romantic entanglements he also dared not interfere with.

Though her tears tugged at the strings of his heart, he remained bound by the invisible boundaries that should have also painted him as an older brother towards her as well—but he truly did not know her heart.

Riah’s voice pulled him from his faint trance, and he watched her with a tender daze as she voiced the reality of a future filled with uncertainties, one that was determined by societal norms and family obligations rather than the calling of her own heart. It was a reality that Suho knew, one that never failed to weigh on his consciousness, especially in regards to the women of this era, including his sisters and Riah as well.

Yet, he did not want her to lose hope, especially when he wanted nothing but the best for her. "I may not know much about matchmaking or your suitors, Riah,” his voice was soft but genuine, “but I do know that whoever is fortunate enough to win your heart is a lucky man." If only he had known the ache that lingered in her veins then perhaps his words would have been different.

Still, he listened to her, to the words that trembled with emotions from her lips, and he considered how thoughtful she was trying to be; how, despite her state of tears, she still thought of helping him to pursue Myunghee.

Little did she know, in that fleeting moment, he did not think of Myunghee. Instead, Suho wondered what it would have been like to cross the limitation of their current roles—how it would feel to reach out and take Riah’s small hand into his, to trace the lines of her palms and see if his initials had been drawn there from a prior lifetime—but that moment was fleeting, as fleeting as a single tear that fell from her pearly eyes, down the soft curvature of her cheek, and landed on the corner of her rosy lips.

How salty and bitter the taste of that thought was, and perhaps, Suho would have known how sweet it could have also been if only he had dared to reach out and hold her, but he did not.

When she swayed the empty teapot from side to side, he knew it was a signal to depart. With a soft sigh, he pushed aside his inner turmoil and forced a small smile, hoping to ease the tension that accompanied between them. "Feel free to linger in my company for as long as you like, Riah," he said gently, hoping to reassure her, “you are more than welcomed to.”

But, he also did not want to pressure her, for her tears had struck him profoundly and perhaps she would seek privacy now more than ever. “But, if you prefer, I can accompany you home. I wouldn’t want you to walk alone.” Though his offer was sincere, Suho couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach.

@✿ seol riah As the appointed day of their meeting approached, Jaehoon found himself filled with a mixture of anticipation and concern. The recent news of the famine hitting Hanseong weighed heavily on his mind, casting a shadow over what should have been a joyous occasion of the New Year. Despite his own worries and the looming specter of court summons, Jaehoon was determined not to let Riah down, though he couldn't help but wonder if she would still be able to make it. The circumstances were dire, and he wouldn't have blamed her if she had to attend to more pressing matters. However, he held onto the hope that their meeting would provide a brief respite from the chaos of their daily lives—a chance to connect on a personal level amidst the turmoil of their professional responsibilities.

As the morning of New Year's Day dawned, Jaehoon prepared himself for their meeting, ensuring that he arrived at the teahouse well ahead of the appointed time. He recalled Riah's disdain for tardiness and didn't want to risk disappointing her by being even a minute late.

Jaehoon opted for attire that reflected both the solemnity of the occasion and his own humility. He selected a simple yet dignified hanbok, crafted from high-quality fabric in muted tones of gray and charcoal. The hanbok featured minimal adornments, with subtle embroidery along the collar and cuffs, a testament to the understated elegance that Jaehoon preferred. He believed that true refinement lay not in ostentatious displays of wealth or status, but in the quiet confidence and grace that came from within. Pairing the hanbok with practical black shoes and a modest silk sash, Jaehoon ensured that his appearance was neat and polished without being overly ostentatious. Making sure he is appropriately dressed for the first day of the year, he made his way to the teahouse.

Upon his arrival, the teahouse servers greeted Jaehoon warmly, eager to serve him tea while he waited for his companion. However, Jaehoon politely declined each offer, preferring to wait until Riah arrived to enjoy their tea together. Despite his repeated refusals, the servers persisted, each one offering in turn. It wasn't until the owner of the teahouse herself approached that Jaehoon explained his preference. "Thank you for your concern, but I would prefer to wait until my companion arrives. We wouldn't want cold tea, would we?" he said with a smile. The owner nodded understandingly and left him to his own, though Jaehoon could sense her lingering curiosity in the air.

Alone at their designated table, Jaehoon took a moment to collect his thoughts, his gaze drifting to the silk-wrapped parcel and the scent pouch nestled safely inside his sleeve. He had brought them along as promised, determined to uphold his end of the agreement and make their meeting as pleasant as possible.

With each passing moment, his thoughts drifting to the countless conversations they had shared and the connection that had blossomed between them. Despite the challenges they faced and the uncertainties of the future, he found solace in the knowledge that he had someone like Riah by his side—a friend and confidante in whom he could trust implicitly. His hand reaching into his sleeve as he picked out her scent pouch again, his finger tips brushing on the embriodery on its surface.

Jaehoon's anticipation grew, his gaze flicking to the entrance of the teahouse at the arrival of every new patron. He couldn't shake the sense of eagerness that welled up within him, mingled with a tinge of nervousness. Each time a shadow passed through those doors, his heart skipped a beat, hoping to catch sight of Riah's familiar figure walking through.

The teahouse buzzed with activity, the gentle murmur of conversation blending with the clink of porcelain and the soft rustle of silk. Despite the warm ambiance of the teahouse, Jaehoon couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over him. He wondered if something had delayed Riah, or if she had forgotten their arrangement altogether. Then realising, he was early, a lot earlier than the discussed time.

@❀ yang seoyul lady yang minkyung arrived at the teahouse a full twenty minutes before the appointed hour. indeed, promptness was a virtue highly prized in a lady, but minkyung possessed an additional, more clandestine motive. it allowed her to discreetly observe the surroundings, to take mental note of the ambiance and any individuals of particular interest. today was no exception.

having secured a secluded table tucked away on the second floor, she positioned herself perfectly to observe the room while remaining unseen. a playful glint lit her gaze as her sister, seoyul, entered, completely oblivious to minkyung's presence. the poor girl reminded her of a cornered mouse as she glanced nervously at the entrance.

‘good,’ minkyung thought with a satisfied smirk.

that was precisely the reaction she had craved when she penned that cryptic letter. uncovering seoyul's secret had sent a shiver of indignation down minkyung's spine. action was necessary before scandal arose. though, a few moments spent watching her sister squirm wouldn't hurt.

taking pity at last, minkyung left her table and slipped away through another exit before re-entering through the main entrance with an air of regal composure. feigning surprise, she surveyed the room before her gaze landed upon seoyul. "there you are!" she exclaimed, a touch too brightly as she glided towards the table. a carefully constructed smile graced her lips as she settled into a seat.

her eyes fell upon the teacup in seoyul's hand, and a practiced look of concern creased her brow. "oh dear," she purred, a touch of condescension lacing her voice, "i trust you haven't been here long? the roads are positively dreadful these days, what with all the traffic. one can't help but be delayed."

a server approached, offering a fresh cup and pot of tea. minkyung responded with an exaggerated eye roll and a curt nod, dismissing him once the task was complete with an imperious flick of her wrist. lifting her cup, she took a deliberately slow sip, a sly smile playing on her lips as she watched her sister squirm.

"your journey from boseong must have been tiring," minkyung began, placing the cup down. "my letter, i'm sure, was quite a surprise. but imagine my astonishment upon discovering your… antics within the very walls of our family estate!" her smile remained, smug and unwavering, as her gaze held the sharpness of a well-honed blade. "now, seoyul, or perhaps i should say lady dalrae, care to explain yourself?"

@✿ go miro “A hissy bite,” Jiyong repeated, scoffing, his eyes rolling in mock offence. “Just because I am from the house of the blue lion, does not mean you can treat me like I am a stray cat you are feeding. In spite of that, yes, you are paying the bill. The late one always did.”

Yes, they always did. Though the last time they had met had been a few years now, since Jiyong had ascended to the role of Duke and it had been too hard to be around Miro after everything they’ve been through, yet it felt like it had merely been a week. That was what Jiyong had craved, in all this time since they last saw one another, some sense of normalcy… Of his childhood, no matter how much he tried to run away from it. Miro’s presence gave him that and much more.

Perhaps that was what was behind both of their eyes, swathes of memories and misty nostalgia, for they were quiet for a few moments. It was comfortable, as it was before, but Jiyong had found himself filling the silence with the savoury taste of the tea before them. The reflection of himself in the steeped water reminded Jiyong of who he used to be, though the thought disturbed him for a moment.

“I am glad you agreed to meet me.” He murmured, closing his eyes for a moment. “I can hardly believe you being mature, but I suppose it had to happen at some point. With rumours of a battle drawing near, perhaps it was high time for you to grow up just in case you get implicated. I’d really hope you don’t, though. I won’t be there to protect you.” Jiyong laughed to himself, shaking his head as he watched Miro’s expression. If one thing could be said about Miro, it was that he always managed to put a smile on Jiyong’s face, no matter how down he was feeling.

“Tell me, other than work, has anything else been of note for you in the past few years? Perhaps, someone has been occupying your time?”

@❁ cheon suho Was this punishment for all the years she had obstinately clung to her affections for a man who regarded her only as a sister and merely a friend? Riah longed for Suho to be less kind, less warm in his demeanor towards her. She wished he hadn't reached up to gently brush away the tear that escaped her eye. Perhaps then she could begin to cultivate a feeling of dislike towards him. Yet, instead of anger, all she felt was her heart shattering into smaller fragments. It appeared that her tear was insufficient to make him see her as anything more than a selfish girl who couldn't bear being out of the limelight during conversations.

As he tried to lighten the somber atmosphere with a jest about the weight of the incense, Riah seized the moment to hold back any further tears. Yet, with the release of a single tear, it seemed as though a floodgate had burst open within her. Soon after, delicate streaks of tears welled up in her eyes, cascading down her face and onto the fabric of her jeogori. Despite her attempts to wipe them away with her sleeve, the tears continued to flow unabated, as if refusing to be contained. Each drop seemed to carry with it a weight of unspoken emotions, revealing the depth of Riah's inner turmoil and heartache.

"Yeah... it's the incense," she forced out, her laughter tinged with bitterness as she inwardly chastised herself for appearing so pathetic and childlike before him. There was no turning back now that she had exposed her tears to a man who seemed indifferent to them.

As if the pain weren't already enough, he continued, speculating on what kind of man would marry her now that she had shed tears for another.

"Perhaps I will not wed then..." His words were a half-truth. Though she couldn't bring herself to confess that her heart belonged solely to him, and that she would rather remain unwed than be with anyone else. The unspoken truth weighed heavily upon her, a burden she carried silently in the presence of the man who remained oblivious to her true feelings.

"My groom would not have a choice anyway; I'm certain Grandfather would ensure that whoever marries me will be unable to escape," Riah remarked with a dry chuckle, reflecting on the reality that she had no say in her future spouse. Such was the fate of a yangban woman, particularly for Riah—the first daughter of the Seol family. Yet, there were moments when she managed to forget these societal expectations.

On afternoons spent composing letters destined for Suho's household or whenever her arrow struck true, recalling the techniques taught to her by the elder male, Riah could briefly escape the constraints of her predetermined life. He had been a guiding light in her otherwise dismal existence. However, as she faced him now, amidst his confusing signals and the weight of his silent rejection looming over her, Riah realized that the fervent fire she harbored for him had been extinguished by the very source of her affection.
After two or three more silent sobs, Riah gradually composed herself, though the effort was agonizing after nearly baring her heart. Her tears, she realized, were the final gifts bestowed upon the man who had once held her affections.

"You don't have to do that, orabeoni. You know me well enough. Asking those questions might lead one to think you're interested in courting me. But that's not the case, is it?" She managed a forced smile through the lingering traces of tears that had begun to dry.

"The only person you need to focus on is Myunghee-ssi. Now, concentrate, Orabeoni. Flowers, treats, her hobbies—know what she enjoys doing to pass the time, and show genuine interest in it to get closer to her."
In her mind, Riah could only summon memories of countless summers spent mastering the bow with him. Perhaps her fondness for the hobby stemmed from his deep involvement in it. Now, she had to imagine him sharing that passion with another woman, exchanging affectionate smiles and laughter—a thought that weighed heavily on her heart.


Every passing moment felt excruciatingly suffocating for the countess as she struggled to suppress her emotions for the sake of her dear friend. The once pleasant incense now left an unpleasant residue in the recesses of her mind, and the tea she had once enjoyed now tasted bitter on her tongue. As she glanced around the bustling teahouse, the countess perceived the world as lacking in its usual vividness. Even the man seated before her, once the center of her universe, seemed to fade into the background. Only a dull ache persisted in her chest, soon overshadowed by an overwhelming numbness threatening to consume her entirely.

She lifted the tea pot, intending to pour another glass and distract herself from her spiraling thoughts, but upon finding it empty, she seized upon the realization as a convenient excuse.

"It seems I have overstayed my welcome," she said with a feigned smile, gently swaying the empty teapot from side to side to indicate its state. Empty, much like the void she felt within her chest.

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@✿ geum eunbyeol Jaehoon's heart felt like a lead weight in his chest as he listened to Eunbyeol's words, the resignation and disappointment evident in her tone. He had never intended to cause her such pain, but the weight of their betrothal pressed heavily upon him, threatening to crush his own spirit.

Gazing into Eunbyeol's eyes, he saw his own turmoil reflected back at him. The memories of his recent failed relationship loomed large in his mind, the ache of loss still fresh and raw. He wasn't ready to move on, to open his heart to another when it still yearned for what he had lost.

The thought of deceiving Eunbyeol or himself was unbearable. He couldn't bring himself to perpetuate the illusion that their union was anything more than a loveless arrangement born out of duty. She deserved honesty, even if it meant breaking her young hopeful heart in the process.

His heart clenched with guilt as he contemplated the path ahead. He couldn't bear to see Eunbyeol suffer any longer, yet he knew that he couldn't continue to live a lie. Their betrothal was a facade, a mere shadow of the love and passion their family had believed in.

His words hung heavily in the air between them, the weight of their unspoken truth threatening to suffocate him. "If you agree to dissolve our betrothal, I will speak to my mother and your parents," he replied earnestly, his gaze meeting hers with sincerity. "I will take full responsibility for this decision and explain it to them as honestly as I can. I'll take responsibility for all the repercussions."

@✿ seol riah For Cheon Suho, such things as love were elusive to him. From a young age, growing up in a household full of sisters, he had been entailed to the paradoxes of girlhood—not all, but enough to forewarn him about the ideologies that women had on the world. But, he was also an only son, the one to carry on his family’s lineage once his sisters marry and leave the falcon’s nest. He had been raised to lead bold sisters who were more courageous than anyone he had known, and thus despite societal expectations, he remained consciously aware of his place within his household.

When he considered romantic prospects, he could not help but wonder if his future wife would get along well with his sisters. His family was, afterall, unconventional. They were not the kind to read on etiquette books or take lessons on social propriety. No, the women in his family were warriors, free as the falcon with keen eyes and humble wings that soar upon the vast sky.

So when Seol Riah stumbled into his life, a small child with bright eyes, a fearless grin, and dainty hands that worked the bow and arrows with precision like himself, she had unconsciously been sorted into that invisible box. The box truly had no purpose or held any true significance, but it only made sense that he saw her as such: a little sister, one who tugged at his heartstrings with childhood innocence and kinship. To see her beyond that, well, only time could tell.

As he gazed at Riah, he realized that all the years in which he claimed to have known her, she, too, was a mystery. There were depths to her that he had yet to peel away, emotions he had yet to learn to read just from the subtle raise of her brows or the faint quiver of her chin. He was flawed and uncertain, unaware of his own shortcomings than Riah, herself.

Flowers, treats… Suho considered for a moment, in fact, he did not know at all. Pondering over what Pyo Myunghee must’ve liked, he couldn't help but notice as Riah’s voice grew smaller. It was not the same tone of hers that he had been familiar with. And as he stared upon her subtle, peculiar cues, more questions riddled his mind. Did he know anything about Riah after all? Her favorite flowers, her favorite treats? He grappled with this thought in mind for a while until silence fell between them in the teahouse and left only their unspoken thoughts.

The air in the teahouse turned slightly heavy as the scent of steeped tea and incense whirled around them like a mist. He met Riah's gaze, his own expression softening as he could sense that something must have weighed heavily on her mind. Despite believing that he was able to understand the female mind, within that fleeting moment, Suho realized he knew nothing at all—

—he was still a man who knew very little about the heart.

He tried to speak at first, wanting to lighten the mood in case the conversation had suddenly turned too hard to bear. This was not his initial thought when he sought her out to meet, but now he realized, he may have not considered the circumstances enough.

But then, it was faint, and if not for the blushing sunlight that lit her beautiful features in a soft, ethereal glow, Suho would’ve missed it—but he didn’t. The glistening bead of tear fell from her eye like a rare gem, a sublime manifestation of vulnerability that caught him off guard. He had known her for years, but he had never witnessed her shed a single tear. Suho's brow furrowed in concern as he reached out instinctively, his finger lightly brushing against the tear resting on her eyelashes.

The dampness lingered on his finger, cool on his skin despite the heat rising from the teacup on the table. A flicker of concern lingered in his gaze. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more beneath the surface, something deeper than just the rising incense affecting her. Was she crying because he did not take the time to learn about her? To truly know more about who she had become through the years instead of reminiscing on the shared moments of their childhood? But he did not want them to sit in this heavy mood, especially when it was their first reunion in a while.

He forced his lips to rise into a gentle smile, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "Perhaps it's the incense," he teased lightly, attempting to lighten the mood. "Or maybe you're just overwhelmed by seeing me again."

Reaching over, he caressed the top of her head as if she were a child. Gentle of his palm smoothing the silky tresses of her hair, “don’t cry. What is there to cry about?” His voice was soft, tender and calming, “no more tears. Who will marry you if they’ve found out that you’ve shed tears in front of another man?” He tried to ease her worries, surely unaware of the turmoil within her.

In that moment, he realized that she was not just a childhood friend or a sister figure—she was someone he cared for deeply, someone he couldn't bear to see in pain. There were no hesitations, as he knew that he would do anything to keep her safe.“I’m sorry, Riah.” He apologized softly, “I didn’t realize that after all these years we’ve known each other, I’ve failed to take care of you properly.”

Suho offered her a small, reassuring smile. "And as for treats," he added with a playful twinkle in his eyes, "consider it a promise. Next time, I'll bring your favorites."

@✿ moon jaehoon eunbyeol only knew what she was getting into when her parents had agreed to this engagement, but no one had prepared for the undeniable truth for her resignation: disappointment. who knew that a loveless partnership can also bring pain? still, who was she to decide what may become of jaehoon's foolishness (could it even be called as such)? who was she to think that a man's sincerity was punishable by law? despite being so young and oblivious to the wiles of love, she could see the truth in his eyes. his visage mirrored that of her brother's betrothed — her nari-eonni — who continued to love her brother despite the futility of it.

eunbyeol may never fathom how deep their feelings run but perhaps, she will have to try for this man who sat before her, beseeching for her agreement.

"and if i say 'yes' to the dissolution of our betrothal, what then? how will you tell eomeoni*? what will you tell my parents?" she queried, her jaw still hardened, her eyes still brimming with unshed tears.

the young girl rubs her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing some of her makeup unto the lengths of her hanbok, her trars wetting the silken fabric and imprinting themselves on it. she sat silently for a few moments, sniffing her tears away. the cup of tea that sat before her ran cold now. she knew it was not going to be as palatable as her current mood.

"i shall forgive you but you will have to explain to my eomma and abeonim — i will go about pretending that this conversation never happened."


*eomoni = moon hyang

@❀ moon jinhee it has been a considerable time since hangyeol last shared a glass with anyone beyond the esteemed ranks of the yangban families of hanseong. once a regular occurrence, these gatherings began to become frequent as he found himself increasingly invited due to the demands of governance and familial obligations.

nevertheless, amidst his duties as a duke, he couldn't deny that these meetings have their significance. considering that these gatherings served as forums for discussions of intricate business dealings, political governance, and familial alliances— these drinking meetings were beyond mere social niceties. though he harbored no great fondness for these obligations that he decided to carry on his shoulders, geum hangyeol clearly understood that these have their profound importance to ensuring his people's prosperity and peace.

thankful for her offer, hangyeol agreed quite easily as after all, he sees nothing wrong in sharing a drink with a stranger. a stranger who seemed to have seen through the mask he had been adorning his expressions with for so long.

despite being decisive with his decisions as a duke, with the matters of the heart, hangyeol found himself adrift in the sea of his own emotions. what's more excruciating is that, he once thought the ache of longing has been long gone after years of accepting the face she could never be his. however, now that she's finally broken away from the shadows of her past, the anguish begins to resurface in hangyeol's heart. the stark realization that he had deluded himself into believing that he'd gone numb from it began to consume him.

straightening up as the kind teahouse owner occupied the seat before him, he nodded a kind thank you before taking the cup in his hand. "it is a pleasure to meet you, lady moon." he speaks lowly and in a hushed tone, not particularly in high spirits. "i am very thankful to share a drink with you tonight." he paused, as he offered his hand to pour her a cup. "well," he hesitated before introducing himself. "i am geum hangyeol, of the house of amaranth." knowing all too well that his name would burden any other person, he immediately follows up. "do not mind my status, if that is alright. tonight, i'm just a mere customer who ended up overstaying my welcome." he gives him a genuine yet embarrassed smile. "is that alright, my lady?"

@❁ cheon suho Riah's heart fluttered nervously as she sat within the serene confines of the teahouse, her thoughts consumed by the practiced words she had repeated to herself on the journey there. With delicate fingers, she absentmindedly toyed with the sleeve of her Jeogori, the fabric slipping through her grasp as her anticipation grew.
With each sip of tea, Riah's mind wandered back to the moments prior, when she had rehearsed her words under her breath, each repetition instilling a sense of confidence for the encounter that lay ahead. The jade panji adorning her right index finger served as a grounding anchor amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.

As her gaze settled upon Suho, she couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in his demeanor. Gone was his usual composed facade, replaced instead by a rare vulnerability as he stumbled over his words. The faint blush gracing his cheeks only added to his endearing charm, causing Riah's heart to skip a beat.
In that moment, she longed to reach out to cradle his cheeks within her smaller hands how warm his face would have felt on her palms. She yearned for the day when Suho would see her not as just another acquaintance, but as someone worthy of his affection.

Lost in her musings, Riah couldn't suppress the hopeful smile that tugged at her lips. Though uncertainty lingered in the air, she clung to the belief that their connection was worth the risk, and that perhaps, in time, her feelings would be met with the same warmth and sincerity that she held for him.


As Riah hung onto every word, her anticipation morphed into dread as Suho's next words extinguished the fragile hope that had blossomed within her heart. It felt as if winter had descended upon her soul in the midst of a summer's day.
All other sounds in the teahouse seemed to fade into a distant murmur as Riah fixated on those piercing words:

"I am quite taken with her." Each syllable struck her like a heavy blow, shattering the dreams she had nurtured, leaving her feeling cold and empty.

(not me?)

In that moment, the world around her blurred into insignificance, overshadowed by the crushing weight of Suho's declaration. The warmth that had filled her being was replaced by an icy chill, seeping into the very core of her being.

With a heavy heart, Riah forced herself to maintain a facade of composure, masking the turmoil raging within. Yet, beneath the veneer of stoicism, her spirit crumbled, her hopes dashed against the harsh reality of unrequited love.

As the teahouse buzzed with activity around her, Riah remained ensnared in a silent anguish, grappling with the bitter truth that Suho's affections lay elsewhere.

Seol Riah, for the first time doubted herself when all she had been taught since birth was that she lacked nothing. Beauty, grace or elegance.

But what are those if in Cheon Suho’s eyes she amounted to nothing?

A lump formed in Riah's throat, akin to a bitter pill that proved excruciatingly difficult to swallow. The sudden chill that gripped her hands seemed to mirror the icy grip tightening around her heart. Aware that meeting Suho's gaze would only unleash a flood of tears from her eyes, she resolutely fixed her stare upon the teapot resting before them.
With a determined effort, Riah forced the lump down , steeling herself against the tumult of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Despite the countless rehearsals and the carefully crafted words she had prepared, nothing could have prepared her for the searing sting of his silent rejection.

The countess summoned every ounce of courage within her as she finally mustered the strength to meet his gaze. Oh, how radiant he appeared, his joy palpable as he probably recounted tales of the girl who had captured his heart in his mind. His brown eyes crinkled with laughter, a painful reminder of the shared moments they had once cherished together.

Each chuckle that escaped his lips felt like a dagger to her heart, a cruel twist of fate that left her reeling in silent agony. To witness his happiness, knowing all too well that she was not the cause of his smiles, cut deeper than any physical wound. Was this the anguish of a shattered heart? It felt as though a weight pressed down upon her chest, threatening to crush her very essence.
With each passing moment, the ache within her intensified, as if her heart itself were on the verge of fracturing into a million delicate shards.

And he’s sitting there, expecting her to offer her honest help with finally confessing to the girl who’s managed to snare his affections. Riah clenches her fists under the table. Letting go of all her delusions and affections, she’s always held close to her since years ago. They were friends after all… No matter how much it hurt to not be the object of his affection. She would never let him down.

“I know you so well orabeoni. Of course you wouldn’t know how to court a lady. You’ve never confessed to anyone before.” She smiles bitterly, hoping that Suho would mistake it for a genuine smile instead.

“Well—” Riah trails off, unable to bear the sight of Suho in love with someone else. Keeping her composure proved harder the longer she sat there. Like a fool.

“Do you know her favorite flowers? Perhaps you can start with acquiring those. Maybe you should pen her a missive to meet…like you wrote to me. And then…and then you can give her a box of her favorite sweets if she likes sweets. I know I do.”

As Riah's gaze faltered, a solitary tear slipped from her right eye, betraying the facade of composure she had painstakingly crafted. With a swift motion, she brushed it away with the sleeve of her Jeogori, a reflex born of years of training in the art of concealing her emotions.
In that fleeting moment, she dared not meet his gaze for fear of exposing the raw vulnerability that simmered beneath the surface.

@❁ hwang miryeong [h] Nari?

The incredulity he felt earlier remained. The woman who was well in her way to another country? Manchuria gave her a proper welcome, and she seemed to be pleased on her excursion to another country. Remnants of her presence stayed stubbornly in his mind, perhaps he would be frank and say they overstayed her welcome. Confusion and hurt stirred within him as he continued to mull over her words, more painful than sharp jabs to his ribs.

He was a fool, yes, but not in her want and desire for her.

“Miryeong, please. You do not need to feel guilt over your feelings for me.” She would have wanted both of us to be happy, he wanted to say.

Songmin wanted to believe this was an incredibly sick attempt at jest. But from her demeanor to her body language, the steeliness in her tone, he knew in his heart that she was completely serious. The couple of tears that fell from her eyes, however, betrayed the veneer of calm she tried to uphold. Nonetheless, it also cemented the message she made clear: she needed to be let go.

Sighing heavily, he receded into his utter defeat. “I thought we had a relationship that is so beautiful.. You made me feel like I finally grew into the man I was supposed to be. But if you must, I will not keep you here for any longer.”

Tentatively, he released his hold from her jeogori, knowing his protests would be futile and she wouldn’t budge from her resolve. His hand fell by his side flatly, as it lost the one thing that enlivened it.

“Farewell, Miryeong. Even if you part, promise me you will stay safe.”

@❁ hwang mijoo Miryeong seated herself comfortably on the floor at their table with a satiated sigh, glad to be sitting after their long walk around the marketplace and to the teahouse. Although she often did tons of walking throughout the week, it had been awhile since she'd taken so many steps in one single day alone—although, Miryeong had been glad to have done it all with her younger sister. Long weeks---months had passed since their last outing together; the reason being their busy work schedules and the complex lives they led. Miryeong was glad for it but often, she missed Mijoo and wondered what her younger sister was up to, especially now since it has nearly been half a decade since her debut into society.

Before the lady of the teahouse left them, Miryeong requested for one of their favorite teas to be brought to their table before she turned to her sister. Upon seeing the doting look on her sister's face, the eldest could only smile with a defeated drop of her tensed shoulders. "I have missed you too, Joo-yah. Life has been so hectic lately. I feel that I am seeing less and less of you these days," Miryeong informed with a dejected smile. "Have you been occupied with your musical performances and practice? Perhaps I should make time to attend one of the parties you are performing at soon, only then--I suspect--that I will get to see more of you, my dear sister."

She held onto her sister's hand when it reached out to her. Somehow, she did not want to allow it to slip away. Oh, how age had befallen them both—but Miryeong could still see glimpse of the young girl Mijoo had been in the earliest days of their innocent childhood. A knowing smile quickly upturned the older sister's lips before she sighed, feigning weariness. "Or should I reach out to a certain . . . Jeon gentleman to let it be known that I miss my Mijoo terribly?"