Some people think that all gungnyeo are friends, but the truth is that within the vast network of them in the palace, there are many circles, both distinct and overlapping. There are definitely gungnyeo who are genuine friends, but many of them are connected through gossip or mutual usefulness or even blackmail.

In a place where the upper hierarchy is so rife with deceit and manipulation, it’s not a surprise that the lower ones follow suit. As such, Sinbi has many acquaintances among the gungnyeo but very few friends. Or maybe she can only say that she has one – the personal retainer of Sojung’s favourite little sister, Yewon.

Eunha nudges her. “What’s with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been all…weird. Well, even weirder than usual, and that’s saying something.”

“You’re one to talk,” Sinbi quips back on instinct, but then falls silent.

“Seriously, what’s wrong?”

Sinbi hesitates. “Have you ever met the wangsejabin?”

“Consort Jung? Yes, a few times. Why?”

“Did you know she’s Sojung unnie’s childhood friend?”

“I’ve heard that around. She’s known wangseja since they were all kids, right? They’re supposed to have quite the sweet romance.”

Sinbi thinks back to Seokjin and Yerin. “They do seem to be very in love.” The words come out rather bitter.

“What, did something happen with wangseja?” Eunha’s eyes widen. “Did he…make a move on you?”

“What? No!” Sinbi almost throws up at the thought. “He’s like a brother to me. I mean, ignoring the mass disrespect of that and all. Why would you even think that?”

“It happens, you know. It’s supposed to be quite the honour.” Eunha tilts her head to the side in thought. “I mean, wangseja is so tall and handsome and he’s always been very kind to servants as far as I’ve seen.”

“He is very kind,” Sinbi agrees, “and I guess he’s those other things too but that doesn’t mean I’d want to be with him.”

“What do you want then? To be married off to some lord in another land?”

“No, I want to stay here,” Sinbi says firmly.

“You know we can’t do that forever though.”

“Why not? There are lots of gungnyeo who stay with the ladies they serve even after marriage.”

“You know most of those gungnyeo are expected to…serve the husband too, right?”

Sinbi falls silent. “Gongjunim wouldn’t let that happen to me if I didn’t want it to.” And she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t fall in love with any man, not to mention Sojung’s future husband.

“You overestimate her, Sinbi.” When Eunha sees Sinbi about to bristle, she sighs. “I don’t mean that she wouldn’t try. I don’t doubt that she really cares about you and that she would want to protect you from such a fate, but that doesn’t mean that she would be able to. You should know better than anybody how little say we have in our lives.”

Sinbi looks away, into the dark, starlit sky. She can see fireflies twinkling in the distance and she remembers catching them and putting them in jars and being distressed the next morning to find them all dead. Sometimes she feels very much like a firefly, like she’s kept in a cage for some grander being’s brief entertainment, doomed to emit light for a short period before fading out of existence.

“Sinbi?”

“I-I forgot an errand that I needed to do for Sojung un—for gongjunim. I have to return to her chambers.”

Eunha doesn’t look like she believes Sinbi, but she doesn’t press her. “Okay, I’ll see you later then.”

“Yes, later,” Sinbi says, and she practically runs away. It’s not that she wants to get away from Eunha, although she certainly wouldn’t mind making an escape from their conversation. More than anything, she just wants to see Sojung. Needs to see Sojung.

More than anything, she just wants to be with Sojung.

She almost barrels into Sojung when she races past the door, in such a hurry that she can’t even catch her breath, and she only just manages to stop in time.

“Sojung unnie!”

Gentle fingers grip her upper arms, steadying her, but they’re not as long or thin as Sojung’s. It’s not Sojung touching her after all, but rather—

“Yerin unnie,” Sinbi blurts out. “I mean, wangsejabin.”

Yerin gives her a small, courteous smile. A palace smile. “You should be more careful. You could have hurt yourself, or worse, gongjunim.”

“I’m sorry,” Sinbi mutters with her eyes downcast, wondering why she’s always running into someone other than the person she’s trying to find. “Where’s Soj—I mean, gongjunim?”

“I’m here, Sinbi.” She raises her eyes to see Sojung looking at her with a concerned frown. “Are you okay? You could easily trip like that. You didn’t fall, did you?”

“No. My balance isn’t that bad, unn—gongjunim.”

“Still. It’s not proper to be running like that in the palace. It wouldn’t have been good if someone saw you.” Sojung looks slightly pale for some reason, her shoulders a tense line.

Sinbi gives her a confused look. “Who’s going to see me running toward here? Do you have people spying on you or something?”

“The palace has eyes everywhere,” Yerin cuts in. “Eyes and ears. On that note, I should leave before it is noticed how much time I spent here.”

“You should probably go,” Sojung says, surprising Sinbi, who expected Sojung to ask her to stay. Sinbi would have, if she didn’t want to talk to Sojung alone so badly. “Give my regards to Seokjin-orabeoni.”

“I will,” Yerin says. “Remember what I said, okay?”

Sojung nods solemnly. “I will not forget.”

Sinbi looks between the two of them in confusion. What had they talked about before Sinbi interrupted them? And had they done anything else besides talking?

“I will see you later, Sinbi,” Yerin says, startling her out of her reverie. “I am sure about that.”

“Okay,” Sinbi says, not forgetting to bow. “Have a safe trek home, wangsejabin.”

“Stay safe, Yerin,” Sojung seconds, sounding less perfunctory and more grim about it.

“To you as well,” Yerin says. “Both of you.”

Then she turns and sweeps away, and both Sojung and Sinbi stare after her until she’s completely out of sight.

“I’m sorry,” Sinbi and Sojung blurt to each other at the same time.

“Why are you sorry?” Sojung asks. “I was the one who was…who was so…”

“Harsh?” Sinbi suggests. “Hurtful? Scary?”

Sojung looks ashamed, and a little hurt. “Was I really those things?”

“Well, kind of. For you, anyway. Han-sanggung is a million times scarier than you.”

The corners of Sojung’s lips tilt up. “I wish I could make you cower the way she does.”

“I don’t cower in front of her,” Sinbi says indignantly. “Or anyone else.”

“Anyway, you don’t have anything to apologize for. I was the one who hurt you.” Sojung looks pained, like hurting Sinbi is somehow worse than hurting herself. Sinbi feels like her insides twist at that. “I apologize for that. I don’t ever want to make you feel like you’re…lower than me or inferior to me.”

“But I am,” Sinbi hears herself say.

Sojung stares at her. “Sinbi, you’re not—”

“I don’t mean… I mean, I don’t think of myself as lowly or anything like that. But other people do. Everyone else does. I’m barely human to them.”

“You are as human as I am,” Sojung insists.

Sinbi smiles. “Just hearing you say that, knowing you believe that, is enough.”

Sojung swallows. “Sinbi…”

“I have something for you, unnie.” Sinbi reaches into her sash and pulls out a package wrapped in wax paper.

Sojung takes it, carefully, like it’s something irredeemably fragile and precious. Sinbi had seen her handle jewels gifted by her father with much less care. She doesn’t open it right away, but instead touches the waxy white flower that’s pinned to the package with a length of twine.

“A gardenia,” she says quietly.

“You should wear this in your hair,” Sinbi says. “It would look beautiful on you.”

Sojung gives her a deep, inscrutable look. “So other flowers would look ugly?”

“Well, I mean with your face, it can’t really be helped.” Sinbi almost bursts out laughing at the look on Sojung’s face. “I mean, that you’re so beautiful the flower looks dull in comparison.”

“Right,” Sojung says slowly. “What a flattering image.”

Sinbi gives a bright smile. “You know I’m always here to flatter you.”

“As long as you’re always here, that’s enough.” Sojung is too busy looking at the flower to see the pink fill Sinbi’s face. “I was right, you know.”

“About what?”

“That you grew up to be beautiful.” Sojung looks at her then, and Sinbi desperately wishes for her blush to die down, but she can still feel the warmth in her cheeks. “But I still don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse.”

“When is beauty a curse?”

Sojung gives a slow, sad smile. “Sometimes beauty can decide your destiny, much like wealth or standing. It is a very powerful thing when men are involved.”

Involuntarily, Sinbi thinks of someone very beautiful, whether with elaborate jewellery and splendid gowns or loose hair and plain robes. Somehow who holds the heart of not just one child of the king but two.

Suddenly, Sinbi imagines Sojung being married to some nobleman, maybe in a distant land, and the thought sends a chill all the way to her bones. Sojung notices her shiver and steps closer to her, brows furrowing in concern.

“Are you cold? Do you want a blanket? Or a cloak?”

“No, I want you,” Sinbi’s mouth says before her brain can catch up.

Sojung’s arms wrap around her, thin but strong, warm and secure. “I’m here,” she promises. “I’ll be here.”

And Sinbi closes her eyes and lets herself believe that Sojung means for always and not just now.