six years later

Due to her birth, Tae-hee had been taught to care about her appearance to a great detail. Born to Count Gyeong, Tae-hee grew up with servants fixing every strand of hair, every scar that surfaced after an injury, every bend of her posture. Although the girl complied by the servants' duties to take care of her, Tae-hee's dependence on them quickly dwindled after the accident.

Since then, she had politely requested that they leave her to take care of her own hygiene once she learned the basics. Tae-hee's graciousness allowed the servants to enjoy their station and responsibilities, especially since all of their employers were considerate to a fault. That is, all of them except one.

Countess Gyeong, Tae-hee's mother, was a cold woman, one who had hardened after many years of a loveless marriage with the count. In her youth, she possessed a renowned beauty that had attracted the equally striking and passive Kwon Jin-yong, Count of Gyeong. What ensued was a courtship in which both tried to act indifferent towards one another, as they believed that seeming too eager was a foolish display of lust. Unexpressive in their excitement towards marrying a handsome and suitable counterpart, this emotional incompetence lingered for the rest of their marriage. It crippled the count so much that, although he died in a house fire, it was said that he had been dead long before due to a broken heart.

It was then that her older brother, Hyuk, took over as the heir of Juel Crest. Afraid that he would resemble their father's cold disposition, Tae-hee took caution before asking something of the sibling of whom she knew very little.

Surprisingly, Hyuk turned out to be a warm and caring presence, albeit very proper and stern in his position. Upon the elder count's death, he quickly suggested — insisted — that the countess move to the family's farthest estate in the countryside to manage it more effectively. Of course, this was a ploy to keep their mother away from further criticism and disapproval of their actions.

The countess's distance also made it easier for less exclusive events to be held at the Gyeong estate, an area large enough to house approximately one hundred and thirty people across three houses. When the overbearing woman was present she had complete control over the guest list, which meant that only the most esteemed lords and ladies would stay for a month or two to bore the Kwon's to death.

Hyuk and Tae-hee loved company, and exciting company at that. Hyuk did business with Rogyeons, foreigners who the countess completely objected to inviting, and Tae-hee's friends were not highly regarded in society either.

Being unmarried at the age of twenty-six, Tae-hee only had the opportunity to acquaint herself with other unmarried ladies — those of low breeding or wealth. However, the high-spirited girl didn't mind her situation; in fact, she found the best of friends due to her marital status.

"Oh, Hyuk, please tell me that you've invited Jung-min!" Tae-hee was itching for interesting companionship during the next few weeks in which a cultural festival was to be held at the Gyeong manor. Shinga, the country of both art and manufacturing, consisted of citizens who boasted about the efficiency of their manufacturing industry, as well as their expertise on music, dance, and theatre. The cultural festival would celebrate both elements of pride.

"Reluctantly, my business with Miss Yang's mother is far too important to neglect the brash and impolite company of her daughter," Hyuk explained, before continuing, "therefore, your dear friend will arrive in the next few days."

Tae-hee knew that Han Ga-eun and Min Hye-rin, two of her other friends, would be present at the event, as they were every year. Since they technically belonged to noble families, they were given the same invitations as the other aristocratic households in Shinga.

However, her closest friend, Yang Jung-min, was too far from resembling a proper lady at all; thus, she was limited in the number of invitations she received to formal events. Born to a lousy father who walked out on the family when she was only seven years old, Jung-min looked up to her hardworking, ambitious mother instead. Ms. Yang owned the largest perfumery in Rogyeo, a neighboring kingdom of Shinga, having built her success from scratch. She was exceptionally skilled in the art of business, leaving no doubts to the limit of a woman's potential.

Her two daughters, Jung-min and Ha-min, were equally as bold and stubborn as their mother, and possessed a fiery character that evoked both intrigue and critique in Shingan society upon their migration. As much excitement as their company entailed, no man was confident nor daring enough to seek their companionship.

"You must help me find Jung-min someone suitable," Tae-hee asked of her brother. "She is entering the undesirable end of her twenties, and must be wed if she is to be taken seriously in our circles."

Hyuk sat in front of the large mahogany desk in his office, checking seating arrangements and bedroom assignments to ensure a smooth visit. His sister sat on the pleather couch across the room, neatly handwriting copies of the schedule that outlined any and all events during the guests' month stay. Upon listening to Tae-hee's plea, Hyuk's expression was indiscernible, but Tae-hee sensed that her brother had contempt, albeit slight interest, towards the topic.

"I pity the man who will spend a lifetime with Miss Yang," he replied flippantly. "And as for the latter statement — that is not necessarily true. You are taken seriously in our circles while being unwed."

"That's different."

"How so?"

"I am your sister, as well as the daughter of Countess Gyeong," Tae-hee explained, the latter fact admitted less proudly so. "Everyone kisses my behind for an invitation to one of your events."

"Still, I wish you would focus less on being my sister, and more on find someone special," Hyuk said softly, "you deserve it."

Tae-hee smiled at her brother's considerate nature, which rarely revealed itself around guests and even acquaintances. How unfortunate that her brother, who secretly longed for a brother-in-law to join him on occasional hunts or business trips, was far more likely to be married himself before gaining a brother-in-law through Tae-hee.

"I would prefer to gain a gentleman's friendship before his affection," she quipped. "Friendship is the only way in which you can see a man for who he truly is."

"And is there no man whose friendship you cherish?"

"Well, there is Lord Chun. But I doubt he will marry."

Lord Chun, Jo Hyun-woo, was her closest friend among the opposite . He was her dance partner during their lessons, and they had been close friends since Tae-hee was twenty-two. However, the viscount's tastes were… peculiar. He was definitely not the marrying type — with her, at least.

"I'm sure you can change that," Hyuk suggested, obstinate in his stance.

"I am sure that I cannot. But I do wish you would stop devoting all of your time and energy on me, and focus on yourself instead," she said. "I daresay that it's time for a new countess, am I wrong?"

The young count managed to give her a weak smile before it faded. "Tae-hee, stop avoiding this subject." She looked down, feigning interest in her handwriting once again. "No man, especially Chun, will care about your thighs. And if he does, then he's a fool."

Tae-hee stopped writing and froze.

The mention of her thighs made memories flood back into her head and heart, taking a heavier toll on the latter. Tae-hee could still recall the emotional and physical pain she felt that day, as if the terrible reminder on her limbs wasn't enough.

"It is quite simple to say one thing, but act differently." Tae-hee took a deep breath every time she had to talk about her injury. "And although you make such assurances, you — my own big brother — have never once dared to examine the monstrosity that the fire left on my flesh. If you did, I am certain that you would not cast stones so easily at others."

He remained silent, the only sound separating an uncomfortable silence between them being the scratches of ink pen meeting parchment paper.

As Tae-hee hated to create prickly situations between the two, she set her pen down and smiled politely at the count. "I think I'll go for a walk," she stated, rising from her seat. Per tradition, he stood as well. "All of this talk about marriage and injury has me itching for a breath of the fresh evening air."

— — —

The annual hunting season took place during the spring equinox each year, its presence marked by lively creatures among fresh trees and booming flowers. Fortunately, Munhwal, a cultural holiday in Shinga, fell on a day during the season as well. The young count took advantage of this convenience and held a grand event at the Gyeong manor in honor of both occasions. During the day, the men (and a few women willing) would go for a hunt while the others conversed — gossiped — about current events. At night, there would be a celebration of music, poetry, dance, or any other form of Shinga's lively artistic culture.

This year was no different; thousands of Shinga citizens pined for an invitation to the most extravagant annual event, but the count could only accommodate approximately 150 guests in his residence, while another 200 more would have to find temporary accommodations in the estates neighboring the manor. And since no one would ever think of turning down the Kwon's invitation, all 350 ladies and gentlemen would celebrate in Juel Crest for the month.

Tae-hee always looked forward to the event every year. Although she only frequently went hunting with the men, she highly anticipated the evening events during Munhwal. She had been taking dance lessons since she was twelve years old, and had a love and appreciation for the art. It was also an opportunity to catch up with her three darling friends.

Guests had been arriving starting dawn, eager to be acquainted with the impressive mansion and their neighbors for the next four weeks.

Glad to not have to exchange pleasantries with every guest — which was Hyuk's responsibility — Tae-hee went out into the woods for her daily walk. After the accident, the physician had recommended that she get a decent amount of leisurely exercise continually during the day, which meant that her evening dance training wouldn't suffice to recover her muscles.

She didn't mind, of course. Tae-hee was an early riser, her eyes waking to the natural sunlight and the sounds of birds singing and insects chirping. The morning walk would always leave her feeling refreshed, so it was a chore that she grew to enjoy.

The walk, however, always brought back painful memories for her.

Whenever she would see the small pond at the center of the forest, Tae-hee would think of the times that she pushed Ji-min into the fresh water while he was cleaning his feet. Off to the right, there was a hammock in which they would lay down to look at the stars, holding each other.

Arriving at the pomegranate tree, she remembered their last intimate encounter, his strong thighs supporting her weight while his fingers explored inside her. Tae-hee closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, her heart hurting from the memory.

She grabbed a fallen fruit, and proceeded to throw it. Since Ji-min left, the pomegranate tree was a place of hope where she would toss premature fruit into the pond and make wishes left unfulfilled. Tae-hee gripped the pomegranate with all her might and drew her arm back to cast the red fruit. Her effort was delayed by an impatient voice.

"Wait."

— — —

Tae-hee froze. No guest ever ventured into the woods for fear of dangerous beasts lurking, prepared to attack at any time. What puzzled her even more, however, was that it was his voice… the one that had haunted her dreams and every thought. It wasn't the voice of a boy anymore but that of a man, a rich timbre that vibrated through every bone in her body and sent shivers up her neck. It took all her strength to continue breathing.

His voice awakened every nerve and sensation inside her. "If you're going to throw it into the water, I want it."

Tae-hee tried to hold onto the fruit, but it hastily fell out of her grasp and landed on the floor with a soft thud. Slowly she turned to face him as he approached. Her instincts were correct — the voice belonged to Ji-min. He was even larger and more imposing than he was before. His hair was calm, styled in a way that was uncommon in Shinga where tousled waves were the trend among men. He was too beautiful to be considered handsome — his features more feline than masculine. But somehow they were the perfect backdrop for his eyes, dark and empty yet questioning, constantly. No one had eyes like him.

"Ji-min," she called huskily, her eyes stunned and heart pounding. He still provoked the same emotional reaction from her — sadness, longing, love. Tae-hee tried to find any semblance of the passionate boy she fell in love with six years ago. She failed. There was only a man deprived of innocence and compassion.

Yet he was still dashing — clad in beige trousers tucked into black riding boots, with a white shirt under a dark green coat falling to his thighs. Unsurprising to Tae-hee, he apparently found success in life.

"I didn't expect to find you here," he murmured. "I wanted to see the pond, as well as the tree." If Tae-hee wasn't as shocked as she was, she would have blushed at the mention of the location where their intimate trysts had occurred.

His accent had changed, the intonation of his voice quickly skipping past vowels and instead emphasizing the consonants in certain words.

"You sound different," she whispered, her heart nearly exploding in her chest.

His eyes were locked on hers, and she couldn't tell if he wanted to embrace her or destroy her. "I've been living in Rogyeo for the past four years."

Rogyeo was a neighboring country of Shinga that ran on an entrepreneurial economy. Although a Shingan influence of aristocratic power still existed in Rogyeon society, there was much more flexibility with social mobility. She wondered what Ji-min did in Rogyeo, why he moved, who he met, where he slept. There were too many questions floating around in her head.

"You… disappeared without a word," she said, sullen. "I looked for you."

"Did you?" The accusation in his eyes burned through hers, as if he believed that she had not a pinch of care for him left.

"What did you do there?" Tae-hee didn't realize she was trembling until she raised her hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

He stepped closer to her, and with every step Tae-hee's heartbeat accelerated. "I worked for a man named Kim Tae-hyung. We now run a shipping company together." Before Tae-hee could inquire further, he stepped closer and studied her quietly. "How beautiful you are," he noted impassively, as if he were viewing a picturesque landscape, or an accomplished painting at a museum. "Even more so than I remember. Yet you wear no ring."

Grabbing her shaking hand, Ji-min examined her pale fingers, unmarked by any jewelry.

"I never married," she explained, her breath catching at at his soft caress.

He seemed confused, almost offended, by her response. "Why is that?" he asked, gently loosening his clutch on her hand.

"I guess I'm not the marrying type." Tae-hee softly laughed as she told him yet another white lie, realizing how much of their relationship was based on deceit. "And what about you? Did you ever—"

"No."

His answer sent shivers of excitement at the base of her stomach. She tried to remain unanimated by straightening the front of her skirts.

Clearing , Tae-hee asked, "How is your aunt?" Her heart ached for Ms. Moon, her former housekeeper, who had treated her far better than her own mother did. However, sending Ms. Moon away was not nearly as painful as letting Ji-min go.

"She's well." His expression softened at the mention of his guardian. "I thought the journey would be too much for her, so she stayed back in Rogyeo. She sends her regards."

"What a gentleman you've become," she whispered, reaching to grab his hand. She paused when she realized that it wasn't proper to do so. Showing a façade of self-control, she continued, "I wish she had accompanied you. Oh, how I miss preparing for the festival with her! She loved Munhwal."

"Not nearly as much as she loved you," he admitted, emphasizing the word that made her gulp audibly. Ji-min said the statement with such sincerity and longing that if anyone was listening, it would have been assumed that he was talking about himself.

Tae-hee wondered how he could keep his composure so easily while she was tense in every way, her nails forming crescent marks on the skin of her palms.

Willing herself to look away, she said, "I should head back. I believe lunch is to be served."

"May I accompany you to the manor?" he asked, unhesitating. It didn't take much insight to see the curious, mischievous glint in his eyes.

The sudden breeze, as well as Ji-min intense gaze, stirred her immensely. "I… don't think that would be wise."

"I think it'll be quite alright. I wouldn't dare ruin your reputation," he said, his full lips upturned.

She reluctantly took his extended arm and curled her sleeved forearm around his. Their elbows locked together, and he took her in closer to his strong side. The coat did little to conceal the hard lines of his muscles underneath his clothing. Her face flushed, Tae-hee tried to create some distance between the two so she could breathe properly. He only brought her in closer.

"I don't bite." He smiled, showing his sharp teeth. Tae-hee swore she heard him murmur, "Yet."

Blushing fervently, she led the way back to the house, her steps abrupt. Ji-min followed with ease, keeping her at his side to steady her whenever she stepped over a log or ducked below overgrown leaves. It wasn't a surprise that a man of his build would be able to navigate the woods as deftly as he did, but she still found herself amazed by his agility.

As they approached the manor, Tae-hee managed to free herself from the brooding man's impasse grip and curtsied respectfully.

"Thank you for being such a gracious ," she said politely. "I bid you a restful and enjoyable stay at Juel Crest. Please let me or Lord Gyeong know if you need anything."

"Oh I will," he muttered slyly, bowing as she left him behind, his eyes following her every step back into the estate.

— — —

As soon as Ji-min closed the door to his quarters, he hit his fist on the wall, bracing his forehead on the cool surface. He wanted to yell, cry, and laugh all at once. All that came out was a hoarse noise, his throat betraying him due to the influx of emotions gathering inside him.

He had been planning his revenge since his business partner, Tae-hyung, received the count's invitation a month ago. It was best to keep his friend in the dark, however, as he was sure that he would receive some kind of moral lecture from the paragon on how he should let the past go, and move on.

But he couldn't.

Six years ago, Kwon Tae-hee broke his heart so harshly, so easily, that he hadn't been able to forget about it since. Of course, Tae-hyung didn't know a thing about the situation — no one did. Ji-min wasn't the kind of man who readily divulged his personal information and history to others, even someone as close to him as Tae-hyung. Ever since he was jilted by his first and only love, he kept a shield around not only his heart, but his mind, too. And now, he would punish the girl who made him this way.

His own body, however, betrayed him in the act.

He had spotted Tae-hee heading out of the house and into the woods earlier that morning, and had decided to follow her. As soon as she picked up a pomegranate off of the ground, he had challenged her so boldly that he was sure she would falter. When she turned around, however, he realized that he was the one who was crumbling inside.

Kwon Tae-hee had not changed as drastically as he had himself, but there were still striking differences in the girl. She was, of course, not a girl anymore — the lean frame of her body still remained, but she had filled out considerably since young adulthood, creating an hourglass figure that no amount of fabric could conceal. The fairness of her skin was still immaculate, but once he stepped forward to admire her closer, he realized that two or three spots had formed on her neck and shoulders — from being out in the sun too much, he presumed.

The temptation to grab her and devour her had been too much for him to appear confident. She had taken Ji-min's poise and conviction and crushed it with a simple flicker of her bright eyes. He was still mad for her, and he knew it.

He would have to fight it, of course, as they could never go back to the relationship they once had. And even if Tae-hee did apologize, he didn't know if he could forgive her for the words that she uttered that day, insulting his breeding and very existence.

In his anger, Ji-min believed this; but he knew, deep down, that he could forgive Kwon Tae-hee for anything and everything, as she had his whole heart in her small hands.

Infuriated, he walked to the desk, rich in color and strength like everything in the count's estate, and smoothed his fingers over the impeccable surface. Ji-min poured himself a glass of soju, his face wincing as he downed the entire glass in one sip, as well as the one he poured right after. He wanted to throw the glass across the room, sink to the floor, scream, shout, cry, hit the wall again — but he could only muster enough energy to collapse onto his bed and sleep, dreaming of his boyhood experiences six years ago.