Thank you all so much for the love & support! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, so I'll keep this short and please let me know what you think! xoxo Mistro

Hye-ri was back in the heat of the market the next morning. It was as if the attack had never happened, most likely because it was not aimed at the villagers. Although she was bringing in money left and right, Hye-ri’s mind wandered back to the constant replaying of yesterday’s situation in her head. From the corner of her eye, she seemed to see the peculiar white mask on every pale face of each passing citizen.

“You’re not normally this distracted when people are trying to give you money.”

The voice, spoken ever so gently, took Hye-ri out of her daze. Her eyes locked down on a polished coin being presented in her direction. Taking it in her hands gently, she struggled to look up at the man standing before her.

“You haven’t come here in quite some time.” Her voice was low as she avoided her eyes.

“That’s not true.” His laughter rang out between the syllables. She thought that if honey made a sound, it would be that. “I’ve come here a few times, but it was always Na-ri manning the position.” She didn’t speak. What could she say? He had always made her so nervous. “Hye-ri, are you doing well?”

Finally, she summoned the courage to look at him. If she was brave enough to approach a possible murderer in the alley, she could gaze into the eyes of her former friend. Unfortunately when she did so, old feelings bubbled up like freshly boiled tea.

“Yoon-sung…” Saying his name was the most she could do. How had he been? Was he eating well? Were his paintings progressing? What had he been doing over the past… oh, what was it now… seven years? There was far too much to catch up on and she struggled to choose where to start.

“Looking pretty as always.” He smiled from the corner of his mouth. It bothered her that only he could seem to do that.

“Lying through your teeth,” she mumbled. “As always.”

Yoon-sung’s sigh wasn’t hidden. He moved a bit closer to the vegetable cart, causing her to take a step backwards into a curious customer. She muttered her apologies before turning back to the nobleman, who was already laughing at her clumsy nature.

“Hye-ri, are you always going to run away when you see me?”

“I’ll try to.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “But you should take my advice and be the one to run away from me. If anyone sees us talking like old pals-”

“We are.” His head fell to his shoulder. “Old friends, I mean.”

“‘Old’ meaning former.”

“‘Old’ meaning we met when we were kids.”

She bit her bottom lip. She hoped it would turn pink from the rush of blood, and that she would look somewhat pretty in front of her childhood crush. “How have you been then, old friend?”

“The usual.” His eyes turned up to the sun, the long brim of his hat providing all the service that a woman’s hands could give. “My father is growing increasingly impatient with the King, the Crown Prince despises me, and we had a rather interesting evening in the palace last night.”

“Interesting?” She took a step forward.

“A bowman sent us a letter stating that civilians are innocent of crime and that poverty brought upon them should have the real apprehension.”

“Which of course, is true.”

“An attack on the palace, obviously. The man was wearing a mask.” Hye-ri’s face must have given her away, because Yoon-sung suddenly looked concerned. “Do you know something about this person?”

“I… No.” She began to awkwardly polish one of her cucumbers.

“Hye-ri.”

“Yoon-sung.” Her eyes peered at him like those of a cat pet too long.

Yoon-sung wasn’t sure why he brought the topic up, but he couldn’t seem to resist speaking about him. Her. The eunuch. “There are also new eunuchs in the palace. One of them is particularly distressing. Always causing a mess.”

Hye-ri snorted. Of course she knew who he was talking about. It was that drunken fellow in Byung-yeon’s hut the other night. The one with cheeks like a woman’s. Unfortunately Hye-ri's snickering had given her away.

“Aha, so you have been coming to the palace. Otherwise, how would you know about the man I’m speaking about?”

She could have lied and explained that Byung-yeon told her, but instead she told him the truth. He wasn’t going to do anything with it anyway. There were other times when she had told him the truth, explained her feelings, and he had barely batted an eyelash. Perhaps that was the real reason they grew apart. “I don’t come very often, but when I do, I have a friend and a full cup of soju waiting for me.” She gazed out into the crowd, growing tired of his handsome face. “At least, when Byung-yeon can remember to pour me some."

“Don’t be heading there anytime soon,” Yoon-sung tightened the string on his shopping bags, implying that he was about to make a grand exit. “Not with Byung-yeon being injured and all.”

Hye-ri’s head snapped around so sharply, she felt her braid smack the side of her face. “Byung-yeon is injured?”

“He fell when he was in town yesterday. Said it was a cart accident and he got caught in the middle of it. He has a nasty cut on the top of his leg and is taking some time off to rest.” Yoon-sung somehow hadn’t picked up on Hye-ri's shock this time and was simply stating the story as if it were a harmless fact. “If you go there now you might be an even bigger inconvenience to him than normal.”

“The top of his leg?” She repeated the words monotonously.

“Just above the knee.”

The long, black tail of hair.

The posture of his muscular back.

The softness of his fingers as he brushed them against hers.

The injury.

When Hye-ri had finally put the pieces together in her head, possibly solving a puzzle with an image she truthfully did not want to construct, things made far too much sense. In a desperate attempt to gain more information, she turned to Yoon-sung. However, she must have paused for too long, because the only thing lingering near her cart was a single flower that he had picked up for her along the way.

~.~.~.~.~.~

There was a sharply pointed stick digging into the top of Hye-ri’s abdomen. She adjusted slightly to move it away, but that only made the digging worse.

“Back straight, Kang Hye-ri.”

“I’m trying.” Her eyes were sealed shut, pressed closed so tightly that she had wrinkles at the corners like her mother had.

The teacher’s palm slammed onto her stomach, digging her back into the wall. She gasped, trying to stay steady on her toes. A few days off of practicing and she could already feel her body weakening. She also knew that her teacher was desperately trying to teach her some discipline, which of course, she couldn’t blame her for.

“If people pay you a lot of money to tell them the things they most need to hear, and your back curves even an inch off of what it should, your career is going to be over.” The teacher’s warm breath hit Hye-ri’s cheek as she whispered in her ear. “Otherwise you’ll end up being a farmer’s wife. Or maybe nobody’s wife at all. Understood?”

Hye-ri nodded weakly. Her teacher was the only person she had felt she could never stand up to. She told Hye-ri the dark truths about life, and although she would never admit it, Hye-ri couldn’t thank her enough for that.

“You’re finished. Go home and spend twenty minutes against the wall with the middle of your back solidly against it.” She flapped her wrinkled hand with disinterest. “Have your sister help you or something.”

Hye-ri was already rushing to collect her jacket, of which she had to wear over her head in order to return home. She brought the thin fabric over her hair, smiling beneath it despite the pain in her lower back and feet. “I’ll be better by next week, teacher. I won’t let you down.”

“Again,” the elder corrected. “You won’t let me down again.”

“That too!” Hye-ri mumbled as she made her way out of the hanok. “Have a wonderful evening!” She wasn’t quite sure if she meant it.

Her feet were moving far too fast and eagerly to imply that she was returning home. Oh, no. That was not where she was headed. She was going back to the palace to get some solid answers from Byung-yeon. In fact, the only answer he needed to give her was to stand up and wobble, the injury to his knee being far too difficult to hide.

The walk to the palace would have normally taken about thirty minutes, but she found herself at the hidden entrance in fifteen. Although her blood was boiling with the possibility of her closest friend being a member of the ‘Baekwoonhwe’ -- an anti-establishment group that her father had informed her about, she could not entirely feel angry with him when she noticed the overgrowth had been cut down. She managed to climb through without a scratch this time, knowing that the job had been done by Byung-yeon and not the Prince.

Sneaking her way through the tall grasses, Hye-ri finally came to the back of his hut. The odds of him being inside were unlikely, but she snuck in quietly all the same. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized she was alone.

All she had to do was wait for Byung-yeon. Her eyes glanced over to the practice sword, her fingers not hesitating to take it from its shelf.

Byung-yeon a traitor.

It couldn’t be possible.

But she had considered all the facts whilst lying in bed the evening before and came to the conclusion that it really could be possible.

It shook her more and more to imagine such a thing, but when Byung-yeon quietly entered the room, her anger flared back up. She had been so fixated on his tired and sad eyes that she had almost forgotten to notice his limp.

What happened next was not part of the plan. But she could feel the pride and respect she had for Lee Yeong b over her moral core, causing her hand to lift from her side. The edge of the sword suddenly rested onto Byung-yeon’s shoulder, the tip of it at his throat. She hated seeing it there. She hated the fact that she was at the other end of it.

“Try and tell me that your knee is not injured.” Hye-ri’s voice shook as she spoke.

Byung-yeon turned his head slightly, causing her to move the sword away a few centimeteres. She didn’t actually want to hurt him. She just wanted him not to lie.

“Try and kill me.” His voice was low. “It would prove that I actually taught you something.”

“Don’t change the subject.” She could feel her voice growing louder in frustration, the back of his head the exact image of what she had seen in the alleyway. “Were you not in the village last night?” Her eyes scanned the room for the mask. There was no sign of it.

“You honestly have no idea what you’re doing.”

Her fingers turned white with the grip on his sword. “Start talking or I’ll tell Lee Yeong.”

“I’ll kill you before you have the opportunity.” He could see the sword wobble from the corner of his eye. He knew he was scaring her. “But not for the reason you think.”

“The reason I think? I asked my father about Baekwoonhwe. There’s been talk all over the town about it. A rebel group,” she almost spat. “You want to tear down the monarchy. You want to kill the King and his men.”

Byung-yeon knew she couldn’t see him, but he rolled his eyes nonetheless. “You always were too dramatic.”

“You’re a traitor.” Without warning, tears began to build up in her eyes. Saying the words and hearing him not deny it made her feel weak in the knees. Of course she loved her father, but that was a familial type of love. Her and Lee Yeong had always playfully bantered, but Byung-yeon had always been the person by her side. When she would miss her mother, when she would get scolded by her teacher, he would never offer her words. But his presence had always been enough, and now that presence was being put into an unfortunate perspective.

Unable to deal with the situation any longer, Byung-yeon reached for the sword. He clasped his hand around it briefly, almost too quickly to feel the true sting of its sharp edge. Hye-ri quickly moved it away from him, staring down at the bloodied tip with an open mouth. He took to chance to move in on her, his own fingers wrapping around hers on the blade.

“I’m not the person you think I am.” His voice was actually audible, the proximity of him enough to make her pathetically note the softness of his lips. “But I’m not a traitor to Lee Yeong. I never have been. If anything, I’m trying to fulfill his dream. What he doesn’t realize is that the only way to do this is to bring down the system he’s been a part of his entire life. He doesn’t know any other way; the truth is too much to tell him.”

“Let go.” Hye-ri’s words were swallowed in her tears.

Byung-yeon didn’t listen. “If you really think that I would hurt him, then go ahead and kill me. I’ll stand here while you do it. I won’t move an inch. Because if that were true, I would want to die. If I ever thought that I was putting him in danger, I would sacrifice myself before I could miss the opportunity of saving him.”

Hye-ri couldn’t stop staring at the blood making its way through his white fingertips and onto her hand. “Please,” she choked, dropping the sword. She shakily flipped his palm over, assessing the damage. “You... You hurt yourself.”

Byung-yeon’s brows came together in his forehead. Five seconds ago she had a sword to his neck, and now she was in tears worried about his health. As he took time to process the situation, she had already brought over a washbin with cold water and bandages.

“Sit down.” She couldn’t look him in the eye, but he could see that the edges of her own were flooding in a miniature river of tears. “Please.”

He did as he was told. He hated hearing her say that word.

Without a sound, she began to pat at the wound. The red-tinted sword lay beside them, its sparkling edge almost a smile of mockery at their behaviour.

“What you doing?” He said it so flatly, it was barely a question.

“You hurt yourself."

He pulled his hand away, bringing her slightly closer with it. “Why are you helping me when you just tried to kill me?"”

She finally met his eyes. They looked sad, an emotion she had never wanted to cause him. “I never actually thought that you were a monster. How could you go behind the Crown Prince’s back when you love him the most?” She shook her head, still unable to accept the truth. “And yet, you were the one in the alleyway. I needed an explanation. I needed you to tell the truth.”

“Then why didn’t you just ask me? Did you really have to point a sword at my neck?”

Only shame filled her soul. Her sister was finally growing stronger, and now she was to blame for putting her friend out of guard duty for what would likely be the next week. Without a word, she began to wrap his hand.

There were some moments of Byung-yeon’s life that he felt had made sense.

Meeting Lee Yeong was one of them. They were polar opposites, but the Prince’s outgoing nature complimented his more reserved one, the two of each other enjoying themselves in both silence and laughter.

There was also the day that his parents died. He knew that it was somewhat sick to consider it a blessing, but it brought him into his position as a royal guard, and admittedly as a member of the Baekwoonhwe, a group he considered his crowning achievement. Even if he did have to keep it a secret for fear of his life.

And then there was another day in Byung-yeon’s life that he never felt was entirely significant. It was the day that a pauper girl, covered in dirt and sweat, accidentally walked down the wrong pathway. She had eyes larger than saucers, and her curiosity was big enough to fill the entire palace.

On that day, he had given her his name.

And yet… he never understood why.

Now here she was, sitting before him with messily knotted legs, her stray strands of hair dangling onto her face while his wound was attended to. Her lips were parted in concentration, the freckles on her nose appearing somewhat brighter in the candlelight as she leaned over him. His fingers twitched when he called her appearance ‘almost beautiful’ in his head, recapturing her attention.

“Did I hurt you?”

His heart grew tiny fists that beat at his rib cage. When she looked at him, there was something in her eyes that reflected all the things they had been through. All the times she had cleaned his wounds after a day of rough practice. All the times he had carried her a few steps home when her feet bled from hours of dancing.

Why had none of it seemed to matter?

It suddenly mattered.

“Do you trust me?”

She hesitated. “Not yet.”

“Will you give me the chance?” He took his hand away upon the realization that she had been finished for quite a while. They were simply touching each other’s fingertips without notice. “I want to prove myself to you. You, more than anyone, were the person I wanted to tell most. But not in this way.”

Hye-ri couldn’t believe that, but she let him have the momentary lie in order to ease her heart. “I’ll give you the chance.”

A pause swam between them, its waves eventually settling into a calm rocking. “Stay here tonight.” It wasn’t a suggestion. “I don’t want you walking home alone.”

Hye-ri looked into the small room where she had normally stayed. “The dresses are gone.”

Byung-yeon tapped the edge of his knee. “They took the dresses to make new clothing for the Queen’s child.” He looked unsure of what to do, but without hesitation began to peel off his shirt. Hye-ri gasped, holding her arms over her eyes. She had never seen the bare chest of Byeong-yeon, nor did she feel she wanted to. Or at least, she wasn’t ready to. “Hye-ri,” he mumbled with annoyance. “You can’t sleep on nothing.”

“It’s fine.” Still turned away, she began to shuffle over to the more private quarters of the hut. “Just don't do... that.” Her cheeks felt hotter than her ill sister’s. Leaning against the wall in the other room, she let her eyes shut in frustration. If she hadn’t already looked like an idiot in front of her friend, she certainly did now.

“Hye-ri?” Byung-yeon’s voice drifted in from the other room. It wasn’t often that he said her name.

“Yes?”

He had slipped something on the wood of the floor, its soft material hitting her leg with a thud. She noted that it was his scholarly robes, their dark hues of purple rather fitting for a man of his nature. Of course, they were far too expensive for her to be using as a makeshift pillow, but she would not risk rejecting Byung-yeon’s offers. She made a large gesture in picking it up, hoping that he could see her take it without hesitation.

When she whispered, she was unsure if her voice was loud enough. But her message was already clear.

“Thank you, Byung-yeon.”