He hasn’t eat, has he? Since his return from his meetings with Jeong Do-Jeon, he cloisters himself in his private quarters alone. The servants themselves hasn’t seen him once.

She’s a member of the Yi family now. She’s his wife. Her husband’s health is not the servants’ responsibilities but hers. Such is a duty of a wife, she supposes.

Da-Gyeong finds Myo Sang in the kitchen and the old woman prepares an easy meal for her husband, muttering boys will be boys and needing more food to beef them up.

She takes the tray, thanking the grandmother to her husband’s bodyguard, makes her way to the private quarters of Yi Bang-Won.

After all, the way to a boy’s heart is through his stomach. Isn’t it?

 Maybe it’s not too late to turn to her sister for advice? Her mother would have moan of the daughter Da-Gyeong isn’t – only cares for politics and nothing that makes a woman the best wife a man would want.

But Bang-Won isn’t a regular boy.

Will a girl like her sister – graceful as a kisaeng performing a sword dance, lyrical like a poet in love during spring and beautiful as an amaranth flower – captures his heart? Or will he fall for a simple girl with a simple mind?

She should have at least paid more attention to the Haedong Gapjok girls. More than half of them, her sister included, seems to be enjoying their married lives, despite the political aspirations behind it.

Her eyes catch the outlines of white hanbok and long black hair tied into a ponytail. The dimly lit candle illuminating a pretty young face. In between them, food laid out and cups filled with tea.

“But why won’t it work? How can the people keep them in check?”

Neither her husband nor the girl notice her entrance. Her grip on the tray tenses that her knuckles nearly turn white.

Da-Gyeong knows she’d seen the girl several times around the compound. Not a slave but a servant of the Yi household. Or is she a servant of her husband’s?

Her first instinct urges her to turn away, and don’t let them see you in such embarrassing state. The sly voice rasps in her ears, they don’t want interruptions. Can’t you see that? This was a mistake. She shouldn’t come here at all. Her presence is unwarranted.

“The people can’t do it. I’m not belittling the people. It’s just that they don’t have the power or time to do it.”

His voice is soft with that girl. Tender. Light. Comforting.

Nothing resembles that business-tone he uses with Da-Gyeong. Why should he? After all, they are just partners in a political marriage.

“That’s why we will have the administration.”

Is that girl the reason his lips tighten to a hollow smile he throws at Da-Gyeong? Barricading himself with a shield so that no one can read him, Da-Gyeong could sing praises for his smart move. But … Is the reason political or simply he doesn’t show anyone his real face save for the servant girl?

“It can change in the future, right?”

The girl speaks freely, without honorifics that comes with their statuses, to her husband. Not even the Min family’s longest serving servants would entertain such an idea.

Pain flaring in her jaw. Heat spreading across her neck. Her legs are locked in this spot. Part of her rational mind dictates her to move before they see her. The other screams to her heart, go and burst their bubble.

 No. That wouldn’t be fitting for a lady of a Haedong Gapjok origin to barge in like a green-eyed uneducated woman. Da-Gyeong’s better than that.

So she retreats to her back to the kitchen, telling the remaining servants to help themselves to the meal. Myo-Sang offers the servant’s origin; she’s a girl from Ga Byeol Cho, her father-in-law’s private army.