Hye-ri was busy collecting vegetables from the backyard. Her eyes stung from the sun as water began to form at the bottom of her eyes. Her back was already sore, and she asked herself if this was what it was like to be an ahjumma.

“Kang Hye-ri.” It was her father’s voice coming from the hanok. “You have someone waiting for you at the front of the house.” His voice was laced with suspicion. “It’s a boy.”

She dropped the radish between her muddy fingers, the size of her enlarged pupils noticeable from even feet away. “What did he say his name was?”

“Kim Byung-yeon. What are you doing spending time with boys at thirteen years old?”

She batted the sweaty hair away from her face, not entirely concerned if the orphan boy thought she was attractive. It wasn’t him she had her eyes on. “He’s someone I met in the palace. What does he want?”

Her father sighed with the realization that his daughter was growing up. “I’ll send him through.”

After his short figure disappeared indoors, Byung-yeon took her father’s previous spot on the porch. His hair was tied in a silk-scarf and she noticed he looked far prettier than she ever had. Hye-ri wondered how long his hair travelled. Maybe it was even longer than her own. “I was in the neighborhood and I knew that you were supposed to deliver the food." His voice was monotonous. "Do you need help taking it to the palace?”

Hye-ri glanced at her wheelbarrow. It was three times wider than her. “Oh, that’s… very nice of you.”

He walked over to the cart with an expressionless face. She tried to flick through the pages of her mind for a glimpse at when he had smiled, but couldn’t seem to find one. “I’ll help you carry it.”

Hye-ri laughed nervously. Her dark green hanbok was stained with dirt and pieces of grass. She had been sweating worse than a market vendor in the middle of the year, but he didn’t seem to notice anything out of the usual. He could see her feet bleeding from beneath the white shoes. He told himself one day that he would carry her if she needed it. He would tie up her wounds and help her to rest.

He was never sure if he had said his thoughts aloud, but in the moment after the thought came to hid head, he saw her smile.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Hye-ri strolled through town with her mind elsewhere. She thought about skipping her lessons that evening for a nice walk near the river, but knew that everything would be sacrificed for a single, selfish night of solitude. That was the unfortunate thing about her profession, it was remarkably difficult and those seconds of hesitation could potentially ruin her life. There was nothing to do but grin and bare it. Or so she believed.

There was another thought on her mind. A group of rowdy boys shoved past her in the square, nearly sending her onto her backside. She had hardly noticed as her mind trickled down a faraway river, and regained her composure with her thoughts still on the subject.

Byung-yeon had been awfully intimate the night before. In fact, she had been awfully intimate. Her hand fell to her cheek as she recalled when she had brushed back his hair. His body had been so firm, and it put a dark feeling in the pit of her stomach. Was it the seed of regret or desire? There was another feeling along with it, a much more animalistic one, but that was locked away in the prison of her emotions. 

She was now entering a quieter part of the village. There were several gambling stalls for those with money in their pockets and perhaps those without. Her father urged her not to spend much time in those areas, but she desperately needed a visit to the temple to clear her head.

Without noticing, a man came out of the household beside her. She caught sight of him stopping his intended direction to look back at her figure. Her arms wrapped a tightly around her bodice when she got the sensation he was following. Turning a corner to take a longer route, she hoped she could nudge him off like an unwanted fly.

The crunching of his boots continued to ring in her ears. Sweat was building up on her neck with the thought that he might grab her. She was far away from the main street now, as the temple was tucked in the crevice of the woods. Cursing that she hadn’t listened to her father, she quickened her pace.

It sounded like the man was running. The noise of breaking gravel was an echo in the dimly lit woods. The temple was not far away, but there was rarely other visiots. If it came to it, Hye-ri had no option but to fight off the unwanted intruder.

She felt something rough on her upper arm. Screaming in shock at the realization that it was a hand, she spun around with her knee raised. It went solidly through the man’s legs and she watched him crumple to the earth with a solitary grunt. He held himself tightly to stop the blood from flowing, his brows tightly knitted in his forehead. Something about his form seemed familiar, and when he lifted his eyes to her, Hye-ri screamed again.

“Thank you for that.” It was Byung-yeon. He was on his knees, his hands embarrassingly gripping a part of his body that Hye-ri could suddenly not stop noticing.

“Byung-yeon!” She shouted in annoyance, her arms reaching to help him stand. “What are you doing here? And more importantly, why wouldn’t you just call out to me? It’s not a wise idea to grab a woman in the middle of the woods!”

“I have something important with me. I couldn’t give myself away.” It was then that Hye-ri noticed a square shape beneath his arm. Whatever book he was hiding, she assumed it had to do with the Chinese ambassador.

“Aren’t you supposed to give that to your leader?”

He hesitated against the pain. “I am.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I don’t want to give them everything.”

Hye-ri understood more clearly now. “You’re keeping them at arm’s length. You’re afraid that they’ll attack Lee Yeong.”

He sighed, brushing past her. His feet carried him up the temple’s stairs, where he sat down in the middle of the floor to ease the shock still darting through his legs. She followed him quietly, her body cold against the rock floor. "I'm sorry about that," she muttered. Although their discussion was far from informal, she couldn’t help to remember the feeling of his lips against her hairline. His body language might have read that he regretted the day before, but that was simply Byung-yeon. He rarely even had a body language.

“I don’t disagree with what we are fighting for.” He whispered despite her being close to him. “There are others in the group who are somewhat more brash than myself. I’m worried about what they might do to the Prince, should he get caught in our fight.”

Hye-ri tapped the book that was now resting in his lap. “What other information are you hiding?”

Byung-yeon wasn’t sure why he was telling her, but he spoke freely. “There might be a surviving heir of Hong Kyung-rae.” Hye-ri knew the name. The man was a rebel that had died fighting for the same cause Byung-yeon was now a part of, signifying the delicacy of their situation. “If so, we’re trying to find her.”

“It’s a woman.” Hye-ri didn’t know why she was surprised.

“Perhaps,” he muttered. “If she’s still alive.”

Silence that rang through the empty temple. Hye-ri let her eyes rest on the colorful banners and fruit being offered at the shrine. They always brought a smile to her face with their powerful hues and warm gesture to the ancestors. Shamanistic practices were a dying breed in Joseon. Confucianism controlled people’s minds and her practices were steadily being looked down upon. She was lucky enough to live in the capital, where she could still embrace her beliefs freely.

“Has the Chinese ambassador arrived?” The thought suddenly came to Hye-ri’s mind.

“Yes. He’s a very… firm man.” Byung-yeon couldn’t hide the twist of his lip. “I can’t be certain about what he wants or what he will do, but I get the impression that he is weak. Unfortunately weak men seem to be the most dangerous these days."

Hye-ri laughed against the sound of crickets. “I wish I could be in the palace to see it all. Your lives are far more interesting than mine.”

Byung-yeon glanced at her. She was still staring ahead at the shine, her pink lips pressed into a smile. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the night before and how ridiculous he had been in his choices. She probably suspected that with the blood loss he had forgotten about it, but that was far from the truth. He wasn’t able to get it out of his head.

“The Chinese ambassador will leave in three days. I’m certain that he has a plan; I just need to figure it out. When things are over, I'll find you.”

“You have to be careful,” she urged. “If you accuse him falsely, one of you will bear the brunt of the punishment.” She glanced back to the flags. “I don’t want it to be you.”

Byung-yeon moved to the furthest corner of the temple. He pressed his back against the wall and slid down its length, opening up the entire floor space to her. With a single raise of his fingers, he asked her a favour. “I wouldn’t mind having some help from the ancestors.”

Hye-ri understood his implication. Blush flew to her cheeks and she shook her head without properly considering. “You don’t believe in that sort of thing. I’ll just feel embarrassed.”

“I do believe in it.” His words were firm. “When you dance, I can see your connection to the ancestors.” He picked at the bottom of his boot. “But only with you. Nobody else can convince me."

She thought his words took on a double-meaning. There was no music to accompany her, no crowd to clap after her hard work. All she had in that moment was her dusty hanbok, a friendly eye and the watchful gaze of her ancestors. It was strange to perform Salpuri in such a sacred place, but luckily a Shaman had left their fans and rattles nearby. She scooped them up carefully, as if handling the bones of a sacred leader. When she returned to the centre, all thoughts of Byung-yeon slipped her mind. She was in the presence of her belief now, and her body arched backwards with the start of the dance. Her hands beat the golden bells in a rhythmic tune, her mind entranced by the singular note. When she was sitting straight again, her other arm extended the fan out in a perfect flick. Byung-yeon smiled when the yellow flowers were revealed.

Hye-ri spun her body upwards, the fan covering her face while she continued to beat out the rhythm. It had been many moons since she had learned Mudangchum from the town’s late Shaman. Repeating the steps felt like meeting an old friend.

Her hand slowly lowered the fan, teasing Byung-yeon with just the vision of her eyes. She continued to spin slowly towards the shrine, her eyes now shut with the imagery of someone singing. Normally there would have been a singer to accompany, but she was making do with the little preparation she had.

Byung-yeon watched her for several minutes. She moved with grace, but he could not pick up the pattern of her feet. Dance was underappreciated, he felt, in its strict rules and incredible agility. Even Salpuri, a dance that started quite slowly, required an incredible amount of core strength and focus. She was like a solider, in a way. When he thought about the hardships Hye-ri had gone through in order to do what she loved, it brought a smile to his face. He pressed his fingers to his mouth while he watched, his mind running off with a secret desire. 

Byung-yeon knew the dance was close to finishing as Hye-ri began to skip sideways across the room. Her rattle picked up a much faster pace than before. She smiled at him with an unbroken laugh on her face, certainly mindful of his intense gaze. He was smiling too, but his mind was fixated on a solitary idea that clawed at his conscience.

Hye-ri had turned her back to get into the final position of her dance. She was close to laughing from embarrassment, but had to admit to herself that the dance had been long missed. It felt good to get her feet hopping. She didn’t have to frown and cry with a pitiful smile as was required in Salpuri, but she could instead shut her eyes and feel the passion of the movements with a genuine smile. The joy she felt was so overwhelming that she had not heard Byung-yeon stand. He made his way behind her, waiting for the final spin. When she completed the move successfully, she gasped in surprise at the proximity of him. Her rattle and fan fell to the floor, the clang of it an unpleasant ending to the ritual.

“Byung-yeon,” she muttered breathlessly. “What are you-”

Without hesitating, he slipped his finger beneath her chin. His arm wrapped around the back of her waist, pulling her hips to his own with a single sweep. She met his chest with force, their lips crashing into one another with a desperation she was unaware he had. Hye-ri could hardly comprehend what was happening, and stood frozen for a moment as the warmth coursed through her body.

His lips were so smooth against hers. It was the first time she had ever kissed someone, and the sensation made it difficult for her to focus on one part of her body. Her legs were shaking and her arms weakly clutched the front of his robe in her fists. Her chest was heaving with the struggle to catch her breath, but she was unsure if that was caused by the dance, or the feeling of his body on her.

Byung-yeon was unapologetic for his actions. He had seen her dance countless times, but she had never looked as joyful as when they were alone. It had sent his mind whirling with possibilities of collecting her in his arms. He wanted to feel that happiness against his skin, the warmth and scent of her engulfing every trepedation, fear and hesitation that lingered in the back of his mind.

She was so gentle, and her lips tasted like sugar. He knew that their actions were unacceptable. After all, Byung-yeon was a knight and could not marry. Hye-ri was reaching an age where she would soon need a husband, and any scandal would prohibit that from happening. More importantly, he was ignoring what she may have wanted, but if the signals offered to him last night were anything to go by, he believed what she wanted was him. 

Hye-ri’s eyelids fluttered shut as Byung-yeon pulled away. She had wanted the kiss to go deeper, to feel his lips part and explore . It was shameful to think such things without the prospects of marriage, but Hye-ri’s mind was now far from what was acceptable.

“I’m sorry,” Byung-yeon’s voice shook while his hands struggled to release her. There was so much more he wanted to say, but words had never been his expertise. 

"Why did you do that?”

He looked away without wanting to tell her.

“Byung-yeon,” she repeated. “Why did you do that?” When no answer came, she felt nervous words spill out in an attempt to stop him from noting the flush in her cheeks. “If you did that to mock me, or just for your pleasure, then you should know that-”

“No.” He shook his head. “That was never my intention.”

The sound of crickets filled the air. It was shockingly loud; too loud for Hye-ri to think about what she was feeling. Byung-yeon had never been able to handle silence between two people well. He made his way back to the wall where his book rested. His fingers, which were still shaking at the feeling of her dress, scooped up the documents with ease. Hye-ri saw his lips move with the sound of several words, but the bugs' song drowned them. Or perhaps, she had chosen not to remember what he said.

He left her there in his path back to the palace. Hye-ri’s body crashed weakly to the floor as soon as his body disappeared from sight. She let her back rest against the cool temple floor, her arms spreading out like the wings of a bird. Although there was some frustration beating at the sides of her head, the temptation to smile was irresistible. She could still taste him on her lips. It made her wonder if other men felt as comfortable, but the answer was shockingly clear to her.

Byung-yeon had buried himself so deeply into her heart; she was fearful she could not pull him out. His presence was like a splinter, invisible at times, but also consistent and unmistakable.

No, Hye-ri thought. He’s not like a splinter, he’s like the moon. Always present and always providing a path of brightness during the times it feels most dark.