Disclaimer: I don’t own DotS.

 

A/N: See the glossary if you have any troubles understanding some of the terms. :)

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Chapter 1: Encounter

 

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“Agassi[1]! Mo Yeon-agassi!”

 

A young woman hid behind the bark of a large oak tree, her legs folded and tucked neatly underneath her chin, and she watched from the corner of her eyes as her servant scampered restlessly across the yard, her face painted with worry. The girl covered to suppress her breathing when her attendant got particularly close to where she was hiding, and let out a relived sigh when she saw her walking away.

 

Once she was sure there was nobody around, she slowly stood up and brushed the bottom of her blue chima[2], not really used to the feeling of cotton as she was to silk. Her heart started beating a little bit faster in both fear and excitement as she imagined the adventure that she was about to embark upon. Looking down at a puddle and seeing her own appearance, she smiled in satisfaction at her perfect disguise.

 

The girl sent a silent apology to her attendant for the trouble that she was giving her but it really couldn’t be helped; ever since she overheard one of the cooks talked about a certain someone’s visit to their household this afternoon, Kang Mo Yeon was determined that she was going to sneak out of the house no matter what.

 

She scowled inwardly. There is no way I’m going to spend my precious time with that arrogant, pompous, chauvinistic airhead.

 

Han Suk Won was the son of the Left Minister, one of the top candidates for becoming the prince consort, and she had first met him during the annual banquet at the palace. Apparently she was the first woman to ever reject his advances—though she really wondered why someone like him had a bunch of admirers pining after him, because aside from his wealth and status, he was such an uncomfortable person to talk to. He had no respect for the opposite , only viewing them as properties and sources of entertainment. Mo Yeon once refused to play the haegeum[3] for him—why should she, when he had shamelessly visited her house without prior notice whatsoever and demanded for her to play in front of him, like she was some servant—did he actually think her house was a gisaeng place? She had clearly conveyed her dissatisfaction towards his less-than-appropriate behaviour, but the man must have somehow read her rejection as being an invitation instead. Since then he had bestowed her countless of gifts; accessories, trinkets, flowers, perfumes that were too sweet-smelling it made her nauseous, and she had returned all of them, her ire growing even further when she thought about the amount of money spent on those unnecessary items.

 

She did not say anything to her father, though; sooner or later her abeoji would probably hear about the rumor of the philanderer son of the Left Minister chasing after his precious daughter, and this saddened her because she did not wish to make him worried when he was so busy with court matter. Besides, what kind of useless daughter would she be if she couldn’t even handle this predicament by herself and had to resort to asking for her father’s help?

 

Therefore, Mo Yeon decided the best way to escape the evil clutches of Han Suk Won before he arrived at her compound was to sneak out of the house. Her servants would have no choice but to come up with some excuse to deter the man from entering her house, because they could not possibly reveal to an outsider that the young lady of their house was missing. Meanwhile, she would go visit the market and perhaps her artisan friend, Ji Soo, and by the time she was back in the evening, he would already be long gone. Although her mother would probably punish her for misbehaviour, it was definitely worth the pain.

 

Stepping her foot on one of the protruding stones, she began to slowly climb over the wall, which was not that hard of a task considering it wasn’t so insurmountable to climb over, and Mo Yeon wiped the sweat on her forehead as she positioned herself carefully above the black tiled roof.

 

Glancing back over a shoulder and confirming that there was no soul around to see her little escapade, she crouched on her feet and was about to jump to the ground—freedom, she cackled internally—before the sound of hurried steps snapped her out of her concentration. She looked ahead and saw a person running, and for a second there their eyes met, startling Mo Yeon, and causing her to yelp and accidentally lost her footing. She shrieked and flailed her arms about as she felt herself slipping on the edge of the roof, gradually falling backwards with her eyes staring straight at the bright blue sky—is this going to be the last thing I see before I die?—and then she shut them in fear, waiting for her impending doom.

 

Aish, Kang Mo Yeon you pabo! Why did you think of such a stupid plan in the first place! You can barely even dance without tripping over an imaginary rock so what makes you think you have the capability to climb over a wall! Thanks to your foolishness you are now going to die and you will leave behind your father and mother before even fulfilling your duty as a daughter and it’s all that stupid person—ani da, that pig-head Han Suk Won’s fault that you’re dying before you can even get married—

 

Pause.

 

Jamkkanman.

 

Her internal pre-death tirade should have ended long ago and she should have already been dead, with her skull cracked open and all her internal organs spewing out. So how come she could still feel herself breathing and scrunching her eyes shut? Was this the afterlife? Where were her dead grandparents?

 

Seolma—

 

“I am alive?”

 

She heard a grunt underneath her and fluttered her eyes open.

 

A pair of brown eyes met hers.

 

Mo Yeon yelped again and jumped backwards, immediately scrambling away from the body sprawled on the ground—ottoke, is he dead? Ah, ani da, he opened his eyes just now—and gulped when the person started to hold himself up and groaned in pain.

 

“Jeogiyo.” She whispered nervously, slowly scooting closer, although she still kept her distance. “Are you—“

 

“THERE HE IS!”

 

A shout interrupted Mo Yeon before she could finish her sentence, and she turned her head, blanching when she was greeted with the sight of a bunch of haggard-looking men, dressed in all black while holding large swords and pointing angrily at the man that she almost squished to death not too long ago. Said man also suddenly became more alert, his face showing none of the previous pain that she saw him grumbling over seconds ago, and he was looking back and forth between Mo Yeon and the group of murderous-looking men.  

 

“Aish, how troublesome.”

 

That was the last thing Mo Yeon heard from him before he grabbed her wrist and forced her to stand up.

 

And then they ran.

 

“Ya! What are you doing—“

 

“Now is really not the right time to be talking—“

 

“Unhand me this instance—“

 

“I could but then you will die—“

 

“D-die?”

 

That shut her up and indeed, when she braved herself to glance back, she shivered at the look on their pursuers’ faces. They looked like they were after some blood. His blood. And since she was with him, Mo Yeon glowered, hers too. She could only pray fervently that the person she was currently running away with wasn’t more dangerous than the people they were running away from. After all, a normal person would not have a mob of furious and dangerous-looking men with pointy swords chasing after them at broad daylight. Was he a criminal? A thief? A traitor?

 

They were now sprinting through a field of tall grass, then over a hill and finally sliding down some slippery high ground and she winced inwardly at dirtying her borrowed clothes. It would be a chore for her servants to remove the stain later, and she sent them another silent apology. They were still running, or more like he was dragging her, and she could feel her heart almost bursting out in pain from lack of doing such strenuous activities. He finally stopped running and switched to walking when they reached a crowded market, and Mo Yeon leaned herself against the wall, feeling the weight of her clothes and watching all the people in front of her hustling and bustling about while she panted and waited until she could catch her breath.

 

Once her breathing returned to normal, Mo Yeon became aware of the dangerous situation she was in—alone with some unknown man—and completely defenseless. Looking around discreetly, she noticed an innocent wooden stick lying on the ground near where he was standing, and mustering all the agility that she possessed, she bent down to steal the stick from his foot before pointing it directly to his nose, hissing, “Who are you?”

 

The man blinked at the young woman’s hostility, surprised—slash amused—as he saw the fire in her eyes and held his hands up. “I’m nobody.”

 

“A nobody would not have such dangerous people chasing after him,” Mo Yeon pressed her lips together; unimpressed. “Do you take me as a fool, Naeuri[4]?”

 

The man coolly lowered down the stick using only his index finger, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the slightly surprised expression on her face. “I can say the same thing to you, Agassi,” he drawled out while assessing her from top to toe, “Judging from your clothing you are not a noble, and yet I saw you mounted on the roof of one. I was certain that you were about to make a jump before my presence interrupted you, so the only conclusion I can make is that you are a servant from that household, trying to escape. But why?” He leaned in closer and tilted his head, smirking. “Unless…you did something wrong. Perhaps you stole something and was afraid your crime would be exposed, and therefore chose to flee before you can face the repercussions?”

 

She glared at the man—he, who had the audacity to forcefully drag her around like some sort of rag doll and almost caused her untimely death—dared to call her a thief?

 

“I am not a thief.”

 

“Then please enlighten me as to why you were climbing over a wall instead of using the gate like any other person.”

 

Mo Yeon gritted her teeth. “I have no obligation whatsoever to explain myself to you.”

 

“Then it’s the same thing for me,” the man quirked an eyebrow, fixing his black gat[5], and stared at Mo Yeon dryly, “you accused me of being a dangerous person. But that’s solely based on your assumptions. And you had asked me to identify myself when I clearly have no obligation whatsoever as well to explain myself to you.”

 

Mo Yeon paused at his words and wilted a little bit. True. She was being a little rude and unfair to him. However there was just something about this man that infuriated her to no ends; his easy-going smile, his laid-back aura, his ability to answer to every one of her nitpickings—he just frustrated her. And he was still suspicious.

 

The man saw that look of regret and shame shadowing over her expression and immediately bit his tongue. It wasn’t his intention to hurt her feelings.

 

“Though I also apologize for startling you in your…endeavour.” He cleared his throat. “I admit I do not look very trustful at the moment and you aren’t necessarily wrong for doubting me. For that, I apologize. As well as for dragging you along with me.”

 

Mo Yeon avoided looking at him in the eye and stared at her now-dirty shoes. Why was he being so nice and polite all of a sudden? It only made her even guiltier.

 

“Animida,” Mo Yeon muttered quietly, shuffling her feet uncomfortably, but she remembered her mother’s words that a lady must never mumble nor mutter when answering someone, so she spoke again with a firm voice. “I am sorry for pointing a weapon at your face. It was very impulsive and rude of me. And…” She tried to hold back the blush on her face but it was proving to be impossible as she could feel how hot cheeks were. “I am also sorry for falling on top of you. I will refrain myself from doing so in the future.”

 

“Refrain? Does that mean you still plan on partaking in such act?”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

The man huffed a laugh. “How mysterious.”

 

He analyzed her secretly and noted the still-present dust of red on her cheeks. She’s kind of adorable.

 

“May I ask as to what you were doing when I first saw you?”

 

It was a few minutes of silence and he inwardly berated himself for being so blunt, thinking that he had made a mistake of offending her.

 

“I’m sorry…I shouldn’t be prying into your matter.”

 

But she surprised him again when she finally answered in a calm voice. “I was sent on an emergency errand by my mistress.”

 

“Errand?”

 

“I could not go through the main entrance because the guards would be asking me why. My Lady specifically told me to keep it a secret. So I had no choice but to…resort to that alternative.”

 

“So you are a servant in that household?”

 

Well, might as well continue the charade. Mo Yeon shrugged internally. No harm done, right?

 

“Yes. I’ve been working there since I was young.” Fiddling with the stick on one hand, Mo Yeon glanced at him and bit her lips. “If I may ask…what were you doing with those men from before?”

 

He tensed at her question and eyed her from the corner of his eyes. She didn’t seem to have a hidden meaning behind her question. He also couldn't detect any malice from her and she did look genuinely curious. He relaxed slightly. Maybe he was being paranoid. There was no way she could be involved with them. The way they met each other was too much of a coincidence. 

 

“A friend of mine asked me for a favour,” He told her, watching her response, and she remained silent with a tilt of her head so he continued, “I was supposed to confirm something for him. But things got complicated.”

 

Mo Yeon squinted her eyes at him. “This friend of yours…he asked you to gather some information but it is really about those people from before, isn’t it?”

 

He looked stunned at her blind jab at the truth…or maybe it wasn’t just a wild guess on her part. How did she know that?

 

“And I suppose you got caught as you were spying on them…hence why you said it was ‘complicated’,” she looked at the troubled expression on his face and immediately scolded herself from rambling off to her own conclusions, “I am sorry. I tend to be too curious for my own good. Please do not worry, Naeuri, I will not ask any further nor will I tell anybody about this. I swear on my honour.”

 

The man looked relieved. “That will be most helpful.”

 

They ended their brief conversation and went into another bout of awkward silence. He heard the rustling of her clothes and sneaked a glance at her.

 

Who was she?

 

She said she was a servant but he contemplated on what kind of servant she was to have such pale skin.

 

And her hands were smooth too; two telltale signs of somebody who was clearly not used to working hard. 

 

Perhaps this was why he felt so interested in her? She was pretty, yes, but it was not as if he was a stranger to seeing beautiful women. But this girl—woman, young woman—she appeared before him out of nowhere and nearly shocked the life out of him when she fell on top of him. Not a girl, but not yet a woman. Fierce, yet not unkind. She was someone whom he thought he had figured out, but the moment she opened she proved him wrong all over again. She was akin to a mystery, waiting for him to solve. And there was something else, too. The determination and fire burning in those brown orbs. She was intelligent and open-minded and she did not hesitate to apologize when she realized her own mistakes. That meant she was confident but not arrogant.

 

Her spirit was something that would not be deemed as acceptable by the society to have for a woman, but he personally liked it when women were not so demure and quiet like a doll.

 

She was unlike the typical girls who only giggled coyly and hid behind their fans while batting their eyelashes. 

 

She did not wilt before him.

 

And that piqued his interest.

 

He took a step closer to her.

 

Mo Yeon took a step back. “Ye?”

 

He took another step towards her.

 

She took another step back paired with a glare. “Uhm.”

 

A step forward.

 

Another step back.

 

And then her back was against the wall and she bit her lips. “What are you doing, Naeuri?”

 

Indeed, what am I doing?

 

“My name is Han Gi Beom,” he began slowly and flashed her a charming smile, “and you?”

 

Han? Does the Han family have another son? She only stared at him with a frown marring her face. However she looked at his appearance and took a note of the lack of string on his gat as well as the rest of his plain attire. He must have come from a lower class. But as I far as I know, only upper class families have the surname of Han.

 

Was he lying to her? She scowled inwardly. Why would she tell her name to a stranger who did not even bother to tell her his own real name? Besides, she was posing as a servant right now. Telling him her real name would immediately give away her status. So Mo Yeon decided to use