Disclaimer: I don’t own DotS.

 

A/N: May I suggest re-reading the first four chapters first? Just in case many of you have already forgotten about the plot because it has been a while since I last updated.

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Chapter 5: Prelude

 

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“Gongju-mama.”

 

Yoon Myeong Joo eyed the man in front of her with unmasked distaste.

 

“…Han Suk Won-ssi.”

 

She suppressed the sigh that was about to escape from her lips and inclined her head slightly, gesturing at her attendants to leave her and the man alone. Once she was sure that the two of them were left with nobody around to see their impending exchange of hostility, she turned towards him and let the corner of quirked upwards into a derisive smirk, not bothering to hide the contempt in her tone as she spoke to him.

 

“What brings you to the inner palace, today?” She pressed her lips together, eyes glinting with enmity. “It’s a rather…unexpected surprise to see you here.”

 

The son of the Left Minister felt his eyebrow twitched in annoyance at the condescending lilt in her speech and had to remind himself that she was the princess of the nation and it would not be wise for him to talk back to her or response to her obvious jabbing with equal fervor. Was it not bad enough that his father had dismissed his intention to court Lady Kang without so much as batting an eyelash? Now he was told to get into the princess’ good graces when he knew that the woman abhorred him as much as he did she.

 

Han Suk Won was not so obsequious and without any pride whatsoever that he would willingly do whatever his father ordered him to – especially getting married to a woman who both hated him and was of a higher social standing than him – but his father had threatened to deny him of his position as the heir to the Han Clan if he ever chose to persist in pursuing the daughter of the Kang family and not making any real efforts in wooing the princess as one of the prince consort candidates.

 

Oh, he knew what his father wanted, alright.

 

Status and power.

 

Han Suk Won grew up knowing how important those two notions were in order to survive – he wasn’t so naïve as to think that what he had at the moment was enough. The world, and especially life in the palace, was not so sympathetic and accommodating. The weak would immediately be obliterated and even those who held power now had no guarantee that they would be able to maintain the same degree of influence in the future. It was every man for himself, after all. He had no need for foolish and ludicrous emotions like love and compassion – he knew better than that.

 

But it didn’t mean that he would willingly marry anyone just because his father told him to.

 

His belief of what makes an ideal woman; the woman that he had always believed he would marry in the future and bear his heirs, should be someone like his mother – beautiful, quiet, and demure.

 

A woman who would abide to her husband’s every word.

 

Lady Kang was both beautiful and a noble, and while she possessed a wild spirit within her, he believed he could tame that childish recalcitrance in her and turned her into his ideal woman. Her continuous rejection had irked him initially but as time progressed, he found it quite entertaining and challenging even. He could not wait to taste that sense of accomplishment once he managed to acquire her.

 

The princess, on the other hand, was not someone whom he could control so easily.

 

Her current status – as someone who had His Majesty’s blood running through her veins – would always give her the upper hand and instead of her bowing down to him, it would be the other way around. His pride would not allow him to bow down to anyone; much less a woman, and his ancestors would be rolling in their graves if they ever found out that his father had decided to marry their heir to someone who was the direct descendant of the Yoon Clan. Besides, in terms of blood purity, the Han Clan was more superior than the current ruling family because the queen a few generations back had been a commoner. The royal family’s blood was actually quite tainted in comparison to theirs.

 

“I’ve been summoned by jeonha to talk about the matter of our betrothal,” he responded, closing the distance between them and took advantage of her surprise by pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. He stifled a smirk at the way her face reddened in fury, most likely due to his boorish action, “Besides, am I not allowed to see my beautiful fiancée from time to time?”

 

Yoon Myeong Joo struggled to pull her hand away from his grasp, glaring at the man with animosity rolling off of her small figure in waves. “You mean, prospective fiancée. It hasn’t been made official, yet.” She growled low in . “Now, let go of me, Han Suk Won-ssi.”

 

The man pretended not to hear what the princess had just said and shook his head instead. “The two of you are cousins and yet so different from each other.” He paused, before smirking again. “Ani da. Actually, now that I think about it, you are pretty similar to Lady Kang. Especially with the way the two of you keep on rejecting me.”

 

Myeong Joo snorted and gave him a mocking look. “Because my cousin knows better than to let herself be toyed around by the likes of you.” She hissed when the grip around her wrist became tighter and tried to snatch her hand back, but to no avail. “Unhand me this instance, Han Suk Won-ssi. Or I will call on the guards and you know it will blow any chance of you becoming the prince consort.” She scoffed and smiled sarcastically. “And we both know just how happy the Left Minister would be if he were to hear this news, hm?”

 

Han Suk Won snarled and pulled at her hand roughly, bringing her close so that he could whisper threateningly beside her ear. “Don’t be so arrogant, mama. If you were to continue rejecting me, I promise the end result would not be pretty. Not for you, not for jeonha.”

 

Myeong Joo stared daggers at him. “Are you threatening abamama and I? You dare to threaten His Majesty the King?” She laughed humorlessly. “You are committing a treason, Han Suk Won-ssi, and you just admitted this fact to me. Aren’t you making this war a little bit too easy for me to win?”

 

The man jeered. “There is no need for a war in the first place, gongju-mama,” he tilted his head, “why would we need one, when victory is clearly there for me to claim?”

 

Before Myeong Joo could retaliate, however, a black scabbard made a painful contact against the Left Minister’s son’s skin and she could hear him cursing under his breath, immediately dropping her hand from his tight clutch and jumping backwards to nurse his throbbing arm. The princess this time let out a relieved sigh and circled her fingers around her wrist, wincing internally at the red now marring her skin. She lifted her head and was about to thank her saviour when the sight of the person caused her to freeze in her spot.

 

No way.

 

Not again.

 

Fate really enjoyed toying with her these days.

 

She looked at the dangerous glint in the man’s eyes – or the way his dark brown orbs narrowed in silent fury as they rested on the angry marks on her hand – and inadvertently felt butterflies fluttering in her stomach. His usually calm and composed façade was crumbling. All because of her. The lines on his face were somewhat more palpable and his handsome visage became more hardened, as if he was restraining himself really hard from doing anything violent to the other man that had just hurt her. She saw the way he skimmed over the rest of her appearance discreetly for any other injuries – but she noticed it anyways – and little by little, she could see the man that she loved under the tiny cracks of that mask he wore.

 

“Lord Han,” her saviour intoned lowly, stepping forward to hide her body from the other man’s sight and clenching his fists so tight that she could see his knuckles turning white. “What were you doing?”

 

Han Suk Won clicked his tongue inwardly.

 

Another annoying insect had appeared.

 

“Seo-daesaheon.” He directed his gaze back to Myeong Joo. “I was just talking about how beautiful the princess looked today…” His lips curled into a sneer. “Isn’t that right, mama?”

 

Yoon Myeong Joo resisted the urge to roll her eyes and forced a smile onto her face. “Of course.” Among other things, she added bitterly in her mind.

 

“Now then, will the two of you please excuse me,” the heir to the Han Clan said mock-politely, putting one foot forward and ready to turn around so he could escape from the scrutinizing glare the inspector-general was giving him. “I think I’ve made jeonha wait too long. I shall take my leave first.”

 

 When the other man disappeared out of her sight, the woman quickly averted her gaze and found the inspector-general already beginning to walk away from her.

 

Again.

 

“Jamkkanman!”

 

She reached out to grab him but the moment her fingers made contact with his hand, she saw his shoulders stiffened.

 

The princess faltered in her steps and felt that familiar clenching of her heart.

 

Did he hate her that much, that he would even flinch away from her touch?

 

She let go of his wrist once she was sure he would not be leaving any time soon and inquired quietly, maintaining a respectful distance away from him.

 

So far, yet so close.

 

“Why did you save me?”

 

His back was turned against her so she could not see his expression, but Myeong Joo could just imagine that furrowing between his brows – the one that she used to poke at and made fun of because she thought it made him look unnecessarily older – and mused emptily at how she could no longer be the one to smooth those crinkles out and hear that amused chuckle he gave her whenever she told him this.

 

“If you want me to give up my feelings for you,” she tried to dislodge that painful lump in , “if you don’t want me to misunderstand, then please…don’t do this kind of thing anymore.” She gnawed on her trembling lip, eyes downcast. “Don’t be so kind to me.”

 

She thought he would do what he would usually do – walk away and leave her crying alone, but to her utmost shock (and slight delight), he turned around to face her, looking worried and agitated and as exasperated as she was and stopped in front of her, taking her hand into his and brushed his thumb lightly over the red marks on her pale wrist – his skin ghosting over hers sent jolts of electricity running down her spine and when she looked up to meet his eyes, she saw something that she had not seen in a long time: yearning.

 

“Regardless of all the things that have happened between us…” He uttered gingerly, his tone a bit upset and discontented. “You’re still the princess of this nation. And it’s my duty to protect you.”

 

Really, she should have known better than to let her guard down.

 

Because after that cruel act of kindness, that sliver moment of weakness when she allowed herself to think of the maybes – that maybe she meant something to him, and that maybe he did love her, and maybe he did care for her the way she cared for him – reality came crashing down on her and he left her again, letting go of his grip on her as if his hands were burned, skin cursed. And she wondered to herself, indignantly, what gave him the right to look angry and frustrated, as if he was cursing fate for making their relationship the way it was right now; and who gave him the right to touch her so gently as if she was some delicate flower only to leave her watching his retreating as if she was a woman whose heart was made out of steel.

 

Who was he to play around with her emotions like this?

 

“…I don’t need you to protect me.” She whispered weakly, staring at the ground and balling her two fists beside her, trembling. “I don’t need your kindness. I just want you by my side.”

 

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, her vision was greeted with a flurry of white and her breath hitched.  

 

The first snow of the year.

 

She looked up, and felt the corner of tilting into a bittersweet smile.

 

“Is that too much to ask?”

 

The snow was beautiful.

 

But its beauty was fleeting.

 

Fluttering around in the air, before cascading to the ground and melting.

 

So fragile.

 

Much like their love.

 

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Mo Yeon couldn’t decide whether to close her eyes and surrender herself to fate or panic and bolt out of his grasp.

 

She could feel the soft sensation of his lips pressing against hers – rough and yet gentle, ardent and yet patient, and she could feel his hand trailing around her back, pulling her into him, pressing her so close that she could feel the delicious warmth emanating from him and the hardness of his chest through his clothes. It was not for another few heartbeats later that she realized what were they doing exactly and held her breath because fearing that he would be able to listen to the boisterous thumping of her heart against her ribcage.

 

Mo Yeon was essentially at loss of what to do; this was her first time being kissed by a man – or anyone for that matter, and it wasn’t though as if it felt unwelcome per se, but her knees were about to give out on her and her heart was threatening to leap out of her chest.

 

His lips were warm and tentative and she clutched at his arm tighter, curling her fingers into the silk of his jeogori. She decided to timidly reply to his coaxing, nipping at his lower lip, testing the waters, when all of a sudden, his previously closed eyes snapped open and she let out a startled gasp at the look of desire and fascination glazing his eyes. His thumb lingered for an iota of a second on her probably blushing cheeks, and he smiled into her lips. She could hear the chuckle rumbling from his chest reverberating in the air, causing goose bumps to rake over her skin and prompted her to shut her eyes once more in embarrassment.

 

His hold on her waist was gentle and careful as he leaned in once again; tilting his head to deepen their kiss, but Mo Yeon accidentally brushed her tongue onto his lower lip, and he stopped in response. She felt something shift in the air and held her breath for the second time that day, mortification already starting to spread all over her being, berating herself inwardly for her brazen folly. She blinked in shock, however, because the next thing she knew he was growling into and molding their lips more fervently, the back of his hand lightly her neck and her jaw in soft patterns, and Mo Yeon was shutting her eyes close as if her life was depending on it – which was partly true because if he kept on assaulting her senses this way she didn’t know how much longer she could hold herself up without fainting, both from the rapid beating of her heart and the lack of air into her lungs.

 

He kept on moving closer and closer, and she thought she would really pass out when suddenly, his hand moved past her to reach for something and she heard the snapping of a branch from behind her. She blinked her eyes open and before she could even register what was happening, he was pushing her down and hovering over her body, shielding her whole small figure under his, and he was hurling the branch at something – or rather, someone – in front of them.

 

His body was tense and rigid above her, as if ready to spring into action any second, and his breaths came in short pants, sweeping over her cheek like gentle wisps, and Mo Yeon could make out a loud curse and a rustling from the bushes where he threw the branch at.

 

“Wha—“

 

“Sssh,” He murmured into her ear, and Mo Yeon almost shut her eyes again. Hearing his voice so close to her – throttling her back into the present situation and realizing the position they were in and what they had just been doing – was not doing her rationality nor mind any good. She couldn’t think properly, couldn’t breathe properly. “Somebody has been watching us since we stepped out of the palace and I think I managed to catch him off-guard just now.”

 

Mo Yeon froze.

 

…What?

 

Her eyes were fixed unblinkingly at the grey sky for a few long minutes while still lying on the ground, mulling; the wind was howling in her ears, and she watched, as the snowflakes fluttered softly from above and fell to the ground.

 

She was completely unsure of what to feel.

 

“I was thinking of letting him trail after us until we get back to the capital but…”

 

The rest of his words were all a jumbled mess to her ears and it was though as if someone had just punched her in the guts. Her once rapidly beating heart halted to a stop and she could feel all the blood draining from her face, before it returned tenfold and she was now flushing in humiliation. A sickening feeling began to form in the pit of her stomach, and she could barely remember Yoo Si Jin-ssi pulling her up into a sitting position before she slapped his hand away, mustering the coldest look on her face as she stared into his innocently unaware expression.

 

Si Jin let his hand lingered in the air and gazed at her questioningly.

 

“…Lady Kang?”

 

Mo Yeon looked down.

 

Why did he sound so confused…and so relaxed and not bothered at all?

 

Did he really have no idea what he had just done?

 

Had all of this been his plan from the start?

 

Kissing her and whatnot…letting their stalker thought that they were putting their guards down when in truth it was his plan all along to strike back when the moment arose? Was he kissing her…for this purpose alone?

 

She clenched her fists.

 

How dare he.

 

Did he take her as a fool?

 

“Is this your intention all along?” She voiced out icily, gripping at her chima before standing up abruptly and turning her back against him. “Were you using me…all this time?”

 

Si Jin blinked, taken aback by her sudden change in demeanour. “What—“

 

“Did you take my feelings into consideration, at all?” She bit hard on her lips and held herself back from crying when she felt the stinging of tears in the corner of her eyes. Her pride would not allow her to cry in front of him. She was mortified by her own foolishness – for letting herself go like that and indulging in mere moments of pleasure instead of thinking rationally. She was ashamed at her own wanton abandonment – how easily she submitted to him and how simple it was for him to reduce her into a blubbering mess of a woman. Much like the lonicera that lied crushed, crumbled on the ground between them.

 

He always robbed her of her self-control, stripped her of her composure, and rattled her nerves this way.

 

All the time.

 

“…Did you kiss me knowing very well that somebody was watching us?” She turned around and stared at him imploringly, pleading him to be honest with her. Because maybe she was wrong. Maybe she should listen to him first. Because he was Yoo Si Jin, her betrothed, her friend, and the first man aside from her father whom she had put her trust into—

 

“…Yes.”

 

Ah.

 

And maybe, she was an idiot for doing so in the first place.

 

Was that the sound of her trust breaking?

 

Or was that her heart?

 

But why?

 

What was this pain that she felt?

 

“But Lady Kang—“

 

“Yoo Si Jin-ssi…” She closed her eyes and swiveled her head to the side, refusing to meet his eyes and hiding half of her profile from him. She was foolish for trusting him in the first place. “Lord Yoo.”

 

He froze at the way she addressed him.

 

Why was she calling him that way?

 

Had he done something wrong…aside from kissing her – which, he thought, she didn’t feel completely against since she had replied to him?

 

Why was she being so cold and distant all of a sudden?

 

Then his eyes widened and he cursed inwardly, realizing that his earlier answer to her questions could be misinterpreted in a way that he definitely did not want her thinking.

 

“Lady Kang—“

 

“Enough.” She cut him before he could explain what his previous words meant, and he was about to persist anyway, because he had had enough of misunderstandings between them, but that look on her face – the hurt that glazed over her eyes was palpable and real and so raw that no matter how much she tried to pretend that there was nothing wrong and hide it from him – it shot through his conscience and he could feel her pain raking through his own body.

 

Was he the one that caused her such tremendous distress?

 

“I understand.” She continued; voice detached and apathetic and he hated hearing such tone coming from her. “It’s my own fault for getting ahead of myself. I should have known better.”

 

He saw that ghost of a smile forming on her face – a mere press of her lips together that set his heart plummeting down because she was misunderstanding the whole thing and he wanted to pull her into a hug and tell her that she wasn’t wrong, that it was okay to get ahead of herself because he felt the same way towards her—

 

But she had already begun walking away and Si Jin was left standing with his mouth slightly open, one hand reaching out towards her disappearing figure. He couldn’t come up with anything to say, and ended up sighing dejectedly in his spot, following her from behind.

 

They journeyed to the village twelve steps away from each other – a long, uncomfortable silence dawning over them.

 

A silence as cold as the winter wind.

 

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“So…this is the girl that Kim-panseo took from that run-down village.”

 

Han Da Bi crouched in front of the young girl, who was lying on one side and staring blankly at his face, and he grabbed at her chin roughly.

 

She was a pretty little thing, he supposed, like a bud about to bloom, not even sixteen years of age, with the strangest hair colour he had ever encountered – warm caramel. He stared into her equally bright eyes and grinned somewhat maniacally at the depth of emptiness he saw in those twin pools. That served him just right. A broken doll was easier to mold and maneuver to his use than a perfect one. She was the impeccable tool, the trump card that would allow him the upper hand when facing the king, and he couldn’t wait to put his plan into action.

 

“From now on, your name will be Han Jang Mi[1].” He released her none-too-gently, sending the girl sprawling on the ground again like a lifeless marionette, her crimson attire a stark contrast to the white mat under her. “And you will be entering the inner palace as gongju-mama’s attendant.”

 

Something flickered in the little girl’s eyes when the Left Minister uttered those three syllables to her, and she slowly leaned her palm against the ground, her thin arms shaking. Tilting her head to the side, the young girl repeated quietly, voice hoarse from not being used in probably a long time.

 

“…Han…Jang…Mi.”

 

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“Agassi!”

 

Mo Yeon was thrown back a bit when the little boy wrapped his arms around her lower body. She released a light chuckle, crouching down to his level and patting him on the head as she smiled fondly at him.

 

“Annyeong, Min Jae-ah.”

 

Si Jin stepped forward as well, and Mo Yeon flinched back a fraction of an inch, forgetting that she wasn’t exactly alone in this trip, and retracted her hand from the young boy, afraid that their close proximity would result in their possibly touching each other. The deputy-minister paused for a long minute at her blatant avoidance of him and she could hear him sigh from above her. He then tried to alleviate the suddenly awkward atmosphere by pinching the boy’s cheek lightly as he spoke.

 

“Ya, Min Jae. What about me, hm? Have you forgotten completely about this handsome man?”

 

Both Mo Yeon and Si Jin were expecting the little boy to retort back to Si Jin’s teasing with his usual exuberance, but instead of sticking his tongue at Si Jin and waving his arms about with his bright laughter, young Min Jae looked down to the ground and his shoulders shook; big, fat droplet of tears running down his cheek.

 

Mo Yeon was alarmed by the boy’s breakdown. “…Min Jae?”

 

The little boy sniffled before wiping his nose with the back of his sleeve, snorting in determination, before tugging at her hand and pointing at the direction of what she assumed to be his house. “N-Naeuri. Agassi. Can the two of you come with me?”

 

For a split second, Mo Yeon completely shoved her discord with Si Jin to the back of her mind and locked gazes with him. He looked at her knowingly and Mo Yeon nodded, turning to Min Jae who was staring at them expectantly.  

 

“Of course.”

 

As the little boy dragged her by the hand along the run-down path of the village – a shortcut that would get them faster to the inner part of the neighbourhood, he said – Mo Yeon knitted her brows in apprehension. Most of the plants, including crops like rice, barley, and wheat, and some basic herbs, were either wilting or already dying, and she wondered how the villagers were going to survive this winter without sufficient supply of food or medicines. Her bewilderment deepened when she saw the main river that ran on the periphery of the border between the fields and the living territories didn’t freeze over…much like the small stream that she found on her way to the village today.

 

How strange.

 

Was there something special about this area that made the bodies of water somehow less susceptible to the cold?

 

Her pondering was cut short when they reached in front of Min Jae’s house – an old reed-roofed hanok[2], now decrepit and black on the walls with moss and soot. Looking from the outside, the state of most of the abodes in the village did not seem much different than weeks ago when she first came to visit, but Mo Yeon knew there was something terribly different that had her smoothing out the nonexistent crinkle in her chima. The air was pungent and almost caustic which was peculiar in itself because the snow piled around the houses should have been able to consume whatever unpleasant smell that lingered in the air – was there fire in the village not too long ago? – and when she stepped into Min Jae’s humble abode, her nose crinkled at the stinging scent of burnt wood that almost got her eyes watering.

 

“Was there a fire in the village recently, Min Jae?”

 

The boy shook his head and Mo Yeon frowned.

 

What was this scent that she kept on smelling ever since she got to the village? It was something familiar and she was sure this wasn’t the first time that she came upon this particular odor. But she couldn’t quite remember where she had sniffed at it the first time…

 

“Halabeoji!”

 

The young boy dashed towards his grandfather who laid unmoving near the corner of the room and both Si Jin and Mo Yeon followed suit, exchanging worried looks with each other, and Mo Yeon was already in the midst of taking off the satchel around her shoulder and digging through its content for the packed herbs that she brought with her.

 

She bent on her knees and gestured to Si Jin to take Min Jae away from his only living relative. Moon Chul-ahjussi’s face was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes, which indicated that he hadn’t been sleeping properly. This was another weird point to note because Min Jae had told her that his grandfather hadn’t been responding to his calls since five days ago. The only reason why the little boy was sure his grandfather was still alive was because of the rise and fall of his chest – meaning that the old man was still breathing, and so the young boy assumed his grandfather must have been sleeping all this time.

 

But this was also peculiar – she had never heard of anyone managing to sleep for five days straight…was that even possible—

 

Mo Yeon paused.

 

Her hand was still hovering above the old man’s chest, the furrows between her brows were etched even deeper, and as if she was hit by a of lightning, the memory of her seonsaengnim and the indigenous plants that reside in the southwest region – the double-edged midnight herbs, she remembered him telling her in that didactic tone of his – came bombarding her mind that she almost spun in her position and had to lean both of her hands on the floor in order to prevent herself from falling.

 

“…Ah.”

 

How could she be so stupid?

 

“I see.”

 

That would explain the atypical scent in the air and the symptoms that Moon Chul-ahjussi was experiencing. And the little boy did mention something about the government giving medicines to the adults that caused paralysis on the lower body so everything perfectly matched up…and the stream—

 

“Oh no.”

 

Si Jin tensed and stared at the young woman with apprehension. “…Lady Kang?”

 

“Min Jae-ah…” She turned to the boy who tilted his head up at the mention of his name. “Is your halabeoji the only one who’s bedridden right now?”

 

Min Jae shook his head again. “Ani…most of the adults…like that halmeoni[3] who worked in the fields…and her son and wife too…and the uisa[4]-ahjussi who first helped those strange people to give the medicine…they were all sick since last week.”

 

Mo Yeon in a deep breath. “Last week…” She bit her lips and sat silent in her own pensiveness before Si Jin saw her standing up and unexpectedly grabbed at his hand.

 

“Yoo Si Jin-ssi…”

 

He didn’t want to sound too desperate but he couldn’t help but to reply to her call almost immediately. “What is it?”

 

Mo Yeon tightened her fingers around him and looked at him straight in the eye. “Can you help me?”

 

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“The double-edged midnight herb?” Si Jin frowned; somewhat dubious that the source of the long-lasting problem in the village that he had kept an eye on was a weird plant with an equally strange name. “You’re saying that the cause of the famine during the summer, as well as the reason why most of the adults are now afflicted with a mysterious illness is because of this plant?”

 

“Ne.” Mo Yeon nodded and she began to pace her steps faster when the sight of the stream that they stopped by that afternoon came to her view.

 

“And it’s most likely the reason why the water of this stream, as well as the river and the waterfall back in the village don’t freeze over despite the temperature. They’re all connected.” She squatted in front of the running water and folded her chima, tucking the material under her feet, and stretched one arm so that she could gather some water into her palm and brought it to her lips. “See, the water is bitter. I’m right.”

 

Si Jin arched an eyebrow, crouching beside her. “Bitter?”

 

“Yes, there’s poison in it.”

 

Si Jin almost stumbled on his feet and fell forward into the stream because of her reply before he turned around and grabbed her shoulders, looking at her with horror plastered on his face.

 

“Poison!” He hissed in trepidation, scanning over her appearance to look for any signs of discomfort and he began to ramble in the heat of his panic. “…And you drank it still, knowing that it is poisoned! You…” He shook her a little bit, voice rising higher at the end. “What were you thinking, you reckless woman! Are you—are you okay, I, what should we do—“

 

“Yoo Si Jin-ssi…” Mo Yeon placed her hand on his trembling one and her eyes softened slightly. She could sense his fear through his touch. “I’m okay. The poison only affects flowering plants and certain crops. That’s why all the large trees around the area are still fine as well…”

 

Si Jin stopped in the midst of his rant and gaped at her answer, before he sputtered something incoherent that her ears failed to catch and turned around, the tips of his ears turning red.

 

“…Lady Kang.” He swallowed. “Don’t scare me like that, please.”

 

Mo Yeon chewed on her lower lip and shook her head inwardly.

 

No matter how endearing he looked as he was sulking with his cheeks puffed out in irritation, no matter how much his concern over her well-being tugged at her heartstrings and left her wanting to envelop him into a tight hug and said ‘thank you’, she reminded herself that she was still supposed to be angry at him – and she was, still – and hammered down the part of her that seemed too ready to forget about the small fight that they had moments ago.

 

Mo Yeon sighed, annoyed at her own conflicted inner feelings, and stood from her position wit