Chorong sat where he had left her, thinking over all he had said. Yes, she mused, Summertide was nearly upon them. The rains that signalled the beginning the holiday had already hit, and it was only through the luck that an official date had been set for the holiday itself that kept it still days away. But the dark-eyed man was right, she didn't have much time.

She finished her water and moved up the stairs to her room, trying not to seem as if she were hurrying. She didn't want to give Himchan any indication that she might have information, which running for her rooms would surely do. She wasn't fool enough to think he wasn't watching over her somehow even if she didn't see him. She fitted the key into the lock, struggled a moment, and then entered her room for the second time that evening.

This time she checked every corner of her room, even under the bed, before she decided she was alone. Stopping at the trunk, she unlocked and opened the heavy lid, then grabbed the blanket off of her bed, threw half of it over the top of the open lid. She then ducked under the other half and knelt in front of the trunk, the blanket covering her. Now, even if anyone were somehow watching, she would be hidden from view by the fabric of the blanket.

She dug through her belongings: dresses and scarves and hats, as well as undergarments and stockings. She even had a pair of pants that she had worn when she was younger; she had brought them because she was of the mind that one never knew what they might need. Kitchen utensils, sewing equipment, several books that she re-read time and again, and of course her art supplies. It was to these last that she gravitated, digging past her three boxes of charcoals and the several cases of pencils, paints, and finishes, until she reached her art books.

She had been reluctant to leave any behind - her art was like her babies, precious pieces of her that she wanted to take with her to her new life as a slave. She had been forced to leave the many loose sketches, but she had brought all the bound books that her father had once gifted to her. Now she pulled out the seven books and settled on the floor, still hidden by the blanket, and began the tedious work of flipping through the thousands of pages of sketches.

It wasn't only the thought that this map might save her from her fate that made her so determined to find it. There was also the possibility that maybe, just maybe, if the Ring were real, she could use it to bring Yongguk back to life. It wasn't that she missed him terribly, but that she was alone, and being alone frightened her. She couldn't mend things without his help, she was just an inexperienced girl! And if she could bring him back, then surely he would find a way to keep her from Himchan's employer. 

Hours later she sat on her bed, considering her options. She had found the map after all, and after carefully removing it from the binding of the book she had drawn it in, she had folded it and sewn it into the lining of one of her corsets. It was the safest place she could think of to hide it in, though if she removed her dress in front of anyone, they would see the outline of the folded paper between the ribs of the garment. But no one would see her without her dress unless she ended up being taken to Himchan's employer after all, so she figured she was safe enough.

Now she had to decide what to do with it. She could simply give the map to Himchan, but she didn't thank that would be enough. A hand-drawn map was not worth enough to save her: she was pretty sure that she had to have the actual Ring in hand to do so. But that was the second problem. She was a lady, not an adventurer. How was she to journey into the mountains of Mercedon by herself and find Cerdin's Cairn? It w