Guys! It's been... well, three years. Honestly, life got majorly in the way. I actually moved to Korea around 3 years ago and have been working multiple jobs, figuring out visa stuff, and just figuring out MY LIFE! Ugh. I don't even know if anyone is still here reading this, but I've been feeling really well (mentally and physically) these days and have been itching to finish this story. I always loved the story and the world that we created for Hye-ri (because you helped me greatly) and I hope that you continue to read this story with me as I finish it.

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Upon awaking, Hye-ri had not forgotten where she was. How could she? The softness of the pillow, the twinkled of the sunlight creeping in through undamaged hanji window paper... it was both an attack and a blessing on her senses.

One sense in particular did seem distant; touch. She had fallen asleep with the gentle reminder of a breath hitting the crown of her head every other second. Her palms had warmed themselves on a sculpted chest that was no longer there. Half of her was disappointed to see that Byung-yeon really had left after she fell asleep, but the other half was thankful they had not fallen asleep only to awake with swords at their throats.

Sitting up straight, the weight of Hye-ri’s long braid hit her back. Although she was now a palace member, there would be no one to look after her. She was to make her appearance presentable at all times and without any guidance, just as she had in the village. In particular, Hye-ri doubted she would make friends with the handmaidens due to her unique position and the fear of many against ancient religious practices. Despite it being a culture of Joseon, Shamaisn and Buddhism were no longer the societal standard. With exorcisms, hallucinations and chanting, people were growing ever more fearful of her sacred work. Her ancestors, who had been great shamans, would have felt great sorrow if they saw what modern society made of them.

It was quite alright: she already had all of the friends in the palace she could need.

Just before she finished preparing herself for the day’s work and slipping into her elegant attire, a knock came at her door. Uncertain of who would come at so early an hour, Hye-ri let only her eye slip out despite being fully dressed. A young handmaiden was waiting on the other side, her cheeks as red as the flowers that budded behind her.

“Good morning. You have an assignment from the palace.” Hye-ri’s brow lifted. “I heard that you arrived only last night and I was told to you to the proper building.”

Hye-ri’s door as well as her trust opened slightly wider. “Thank you for helping me.” She could not admit that she knew what the conjoined palaces looked like in their massive entirety; perhaps she had ever only been exposed to a fifth of it. “What is your name?”

“Su-gyeong,” she answered with her eyes downcast. “You are Teacher Hye-ri.”

Oh. Teacher. I like the sound of that.

Although the girl was to be escorting the Shaman, her age was clearly younger and her stature still uncomfortable in her large dress. Attempting to diffuse the tension, Hye-ri offered a smile before stepping into her walking shoes. She also collected a small basket of necessary items for rituals beside her door. The girl finally met her gaze.

“I am very pleased to know you Su-gyeong. I trust you will lead the way well.”

Age differences in Joseon meant an often harsh language from seniors, but Su-gyeong was pleased with such a warm response. Palace women could often be manipulative and assuming. With nothing much else occurring day-by-day, Su-gyeong was starting to understand why. Teacher Hye-ri was a fresh of breath air in a palace that was slowly collapsing in on itself.

With her head held up slightly higher, Hye-ri tiptoed down the stone Hanok steps and through the main gate of the complex. The rest of the palace was louder than she had expected, but she had also been a part of that when she used to deliver vegetables. She wondered inwardly if there might be a busier commotion with Lee Yeong’s decision to cancel the state examinations. The thought still made her stomach twist. What was to become of her friend? The Kim family was known for their ruthlessness in intellectual combat and this was a full-on battle.

With all of the thoughts running through her head, Hye-ri hadn’t even noticed that her had stopped walking. They were standing outside of a small compound with only two rows of deep red rooms. There was a small archway upon entering the first building, and several men in purple were trickling out, muttering under their breath about what the women were doing in ‘their courtyard’.

“This is where the historians work,” Su-gyeong explained with an awkwardly outstretched arm. Now Hye-ri had almost no doubt that the girl was practically as new as herself. “You have been instructed by Her Majesty to create several talismen for the buildings of the Queen. To protect the baby, you see.”

Hye-ri smirked to herself. A quiet day of painting by herself? It was an enjoyable and easy enough task. Although Hye-ri was not able to write or read in great detail, she could calligraph key Chinese characters for talismen against dragons, demons and other disasters. These types of tokens had to stem from the mystics themselves, otherwise their power was faulty and their protection limited.

“I suppose there’s a place for me to paint here? Much to the men’s displeasure.”

“It’s the building next to the library.”

“How many quarters is the Queen currently using?”

Su-gyeong’s voice shrunk to the size of a minnow. “Fifty-six.”

If the historians hadn’t been inspecting Hye-ri enough, they could not mistake the abrupt snort that escaped her lips and echoed around the open space. It ripped through the peaceful morning air with the same invasiveness as an attack from the Qing. “Fifty-six? When do these need to be finished?”

“Today. Before supper.” Su-gyeong politely bowed her head. Nobody wanted to be the bearer of bad news. This was indeed bad news. “In case you get lost, I will be back before the moon is at its peak.”

“What about the midday meal?” Hye-ri called out, but the girl had already slipped past her like a newt on a wet rock, unable to offer answers.

Cursing under her breath, Hye-ri hiked up her skirt and made her way to the study. Luckily there were no historians around to ask intruding questions about her work or of a personal nature, but she immediately felt the loneliness of the dimly lit room. It was only the morning. Where was the sunshine? How could a palace with hundreds of people at times feel so empty?

She thought back to Byung-yeon and his supposedly inherent nature. Had he always been so silent? So reclusive? Perhaps the walls of the palace kept most of Joseon out, but perhaps it also kept those inside away from so much of the world that they began to feel unfamiliar to even themselves. Lee Yeong was lucky that he had enough words in him for the pair of them.

Well, Hye-ri thought. There’s no time like the present. She sat down and grabbed the nearest dry brush. Several piles of parchment had been left out along with a small inkstone. Carved into its top were the images of a lotus and frog, which seemed to jump slightly as her eyes fixated on it.

“Are you a spirit?” She whispered tauntingly. “A scholar forever trapped in his inkstone for not completing his duties in the way that the King so wished?”

Of course, she was met with no response.

“Perhaps that will be me if I don’t begin now,” she grumbled.

Leaning over the well-worn desk, Hye-ri pressed her brush against the paper. The smoothness of it struck her - the quality of the ink. It reminded her that she was well and truly a part of the palace now. Things here were expensive and not to be meddled with.

It wasn’t just that. Byung-yeon was not so far from her reach - both physically and in a more romantic sense. It may be years until Lee Yeong was crowned King, but the idea of waiting for half a lifetime was comforting when there had originally been nothing to imagine at all.

Hye-ri’s brush was bleeding out through the paper and onto the table as her thoughts danced for a moment too long. She quickly tossed the paper to the floor, its soft thud the only clear sound she would hear for the next several hours.

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Just before the moon made its debut in the night sky, the door to the study swung open. It was Su-gyeong, back as she had promised. Hye-ri stiffly held out her hands which grasped seventy talismen in elegant Chinese characters. Although Hye-ri had been instructed to only make fifty-six, making extra would not only save her some time the next chance this command was given but would also show the Queen that her unusual position was of some value.

While the girls made their way back to their quarters, Hye-ri spotted a green robe up ahead. The small frame, hunched like the frog from her inkstone, was unmistakably Sam-nom. He crouched down to speak to a young girl who, by description, could only be Princess Yeongeun.

And yet... who was Sam-nom? The last time she had been able to think about the eunuch was when Byung-yeon appeared at her doorstep stating that he had been the ‘she’ he had been looking for.

She.

The final piece of the puzzle.

It was still too much to process.

Hye-ri knew the Princess was mute; everyone did. Word traveled quickly among commoners and slaves when any gold was mined from the palace walls. It had always been strange when she overheard talk of the Crown Prince as a child working in the market. After all, she knew what was true and what was simply gossip.

The Princess before her had a well-rounded face that matched the childlike nature of her rainbow hanbok. There was an unusual sense of trust in the child as Sam-nom’s mouth moved in unheard words. The eunuch seemed to bring her comfort in one form or another. This was something Hye-ri had noticed was true for nearly everyone Sam-nom interacted with as of late and which now made sense knowing that Hong Sam-nom was actually a woman.

Something in the pit of Hye-ri’s stomach forced her to stop in her path as she continued to invade their private conversation with her stare. The Princess’s small frame, puppy-like features and elegant clothing took Hye-ri to a vision of the future that was at once familiar and distant.

A young boy with waves for hair rushing through strands of wheat.

The scent of red bean porridge flooding in from a kitchen draped in herbs.

Snowfall on a Hanok porch that needed sweeping.

A small hand in hers, unmistakable in their similar dark complexion.

The trickle of a stream in the distance; then silence.

Hye-ri began to feel as if a spirit had taken hold of her. It was not the first time this had happened and it had been what made her grandparents think she was gifted in the Shamanic arts. Her body leaned sideways in favor of the trees which could not catch her with their limp arms.

“Teacher!” Su-gyeong gasped and grabbed her companion before tumbling to the ground. “Is it the air? Did you not take a break during your painting?”

Hye-ri’s eyes blinked without awareness of what was occurring. “I’m... I’m fine.”

“Please rest here for a moment.” Su-gyeong propped her frail girl the nearest true. “I will fetch some water from the nearby kitchens. Please do not leave without me or I fear you will get lost.”

Hye-ri could not have moved even if she wanted to. Her chest felt weighted. Her eyes began to sting. Her palms shook with both sweat and a chill. What was she experiencing? A lock had sealed itself around her heart and was blocking any breath that tried to enter.

“Hye-ri?” It was the voice of Sam-nom now. She had spotted girl from across the courtyard. “You’re here! How? When? Are you alright?”

The whirlwind of questions only made Hye-ri slip further towards the rug of the Earth. Sam-nom was unfortunately not as strong as the handmaiden and could not catch Hye-ri’s liquid form. The shaman girl’s eyes blinked away tears as she traced the sky for an answer. Clouds and the treetops blended together in an unknown color through her tears.

“I feel so strange,” Hye-ri breathed. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I saw the child with you and I felt so...”

Sam-nom was clever. She did not ask Hye-ri for more of an explanation. Whatever had happened, her wedding must have been called off and she had somehow been granted permission to stay in the palace. There was likely Lee Yeong to thank for that, or perhaps Yoon-sung with his unexpectedly kind gestures.

“I’ve left my family and come to this place with no idea of what’s to come next,” Hye-ri’s bitter attempt to explain her sea of feelings was summarized in only a stream. “There was marriage in my future, children, a home, protection for my family... what if I have given that up without hope for better? What if I am not able to live the life I am destined?”

Sam-nom’s gaze was firm as she tried to console her friend. “You are already living the life you are destined. It is written in the stars and you must trust them.”

Hye-ri’s heart weakened at the eunuch’s words. She felt a strong urge to reach out and hug the person she now knew was a girl. Not only for Hye-ri’s sake, but for the turmoil this poor woman must have been going through. What happened in one’s life to make them disguise themselves as a palace eunuch and be hunted down by Baekwoonhwe? The risk was so heavy despite not knowing Sam-nom’s full history. There was as much comfort in the faux eunuch’s embrace as there was in Na-ri’s, or perhaps even the distant recollections of a mother. When the two broke their hold, Hye-ri felt even more confused than before.

It seemed that Sam-nom weighed her emotions without an explanation. Standing up quickly, she looked back at the Princess silently waiting for her return. “Hye-ri... if I can offer you any bit of advice, it’s to walk the path that’s available to you. Right now, that might be to the West of the palace.”

Hye-ri had guessed she was being symbolic. “What?”

“The archery range. I think things always make sense when we see a little bit of our dream in front of us.”

She understood the implication: Byung-yeon was at the archery range. As much as it scared her to go and see him in the state she was in, the eunuch was right. Byung-yeon had always brought a feeling of safety and comfort even when he was somehow the danger.

“Thank you,” Hye-ri muttered as she collected herself. “If you see Su-gyeong, please apologize and tell her that I have already found my way back and am resting.”

Sam-nom nodded and watched as the girl darted back beneath the crumbling archway. With a subconscious thought, the eunuch’s fingers reached up towards her chest. In the pit of Ra-on’s stomach, she knew that his secret had been exposed. Not a care passed her mind. She had been able to comfort a friend. Sometimes, that was worth the biggest risk of all.

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

Hye-ri had always remembered where the archery range was. She was just unable to identify the immediate buildings around it. Luckily nobody questioned her as she passed through complex after complex on her own. The moon was almost at its full position in the sky, but she was not fearful of much after having an audience with the King of Joseon. What could be more frightening than that?

Moonlight was a good time for archery practice, or so Byung-yeon had once told her as a child. It added a new kind of light to the sky that was so familiar to them. The stars helped to align one’s aim and release the bow in a way that demonstrated true skill as compared to a squinted eye in the bright daylight sun.

Hye-ri knew she was not far off when she heard the sharp whizzing of arrows splitting the humid air. Only one could be heard, and she knew Byung-yeon was alone.

When she turned the corner, she could spot the side of him with his arm already raised for the next shot. Hiding herself behind a nearby cluster of bamboo stalks, she waited until his fingers released the string. It was hard to imagine such fingers had ever caressed her. The thought still shocked her despite it happening numerous times already. Her childhood self would never have believed it.

Kim Byung-yeon? Kim. Byung. Yeon?

She could practically her hear own childhood giggles laughing at her. Of course, wisdom is the reward of age.

A sound of quick clapping after Byung-yeon’s arrow caught her attention. It was from the other side of the platform and Hye-ri immediately realized that she had been wrong about his being alone. In reality, the giggles she had heard in her head were not those of her childhood self, but of the cluster of maidens watching her friend. They would rather skip their meals just to see him repeat the same action over and over? Hye-ri scoffed until she realized she was doing exactly the same thing.

Byung-yeon set his bow down for a moment to dry his sweaty hands on his black, cloth robes. His brows were knitted together in frustration. Half of it was geared towards himself and the other towards the flock of jays on his righthand side. His red fingers pinched the bridge between his eyes, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

Hye-ri wanted to reach for him with her entire body. Brush his hair with her parted lips. Ease his shoulders with her open palms.

But she couldn’t.

What stresses was he experiencing? Was it all falling on her? Was it the heavy weight of the Baekwoonhwe as the group grew closer to its target?

Hye-ri knew what it was like to have someone invade your thoughts. If Byung-yeon were to spot her in the thick of trees, he would have quit his silent meditation to be cordial to her. There was already enough background noise with the handmaidens. She did not need to interrupt his space, as much as she wanted to.

She had seen him: that was enough.

From the platform, Byung-yeon released his fingers from his nose. Too much was happening. The situation with Baekwoonhwe had turned against him with the decision to protect his friend Ra-On. Hye-ri’s marriage had broken off without a better solution. He feared for his wellbeing- his life- for the first time since he was a child without parents. Life was, he hated to admit, getting to be too difficult to handle on his own. And yet, he had always been able to handle things on his own. For the first time in his life, he knew without a flicker of a doubt that he needed someone.

He needed Kang Hye-ri.

A sound to his left turned his head like a crane. The shadow of a woman in the bamboo caught his attention. She wore the light hues of a servant, but her skin was nearly the shade of earthenware in moonlight. There was no doubt in his mind that it was Kang Hye-ri, but when he rubbed his eyes for certainty, nothing but a falling leaf looked back at him.