The most nerve-wracking Jongdae-related assignment was organising a little suite of rooms for him to stay in.  All Seoyeon really had to do was decide on the location, how many rooms, and check that the necessary furniture was there, which wasn’t actually all that hard in Ximo because in the past it had clearly housed at least double the number of residents that it now did.  But, this was her first time really stepping into the role of Lady of the House — or, in this case, fortress — and she really wanted to impress Jongdae.  It had only been a few weeks, but she’d learnt much more from him than she’d ever expected to, and most of the time she actively enjoyed his lessons.

“Do you think he’ll want a writing desk in his bedroom as well as in his study?” she asked Minseok anxiously.  She’d roped the chef into giving his opinion when he’d come up to enquire about her preferences for a birthday breakfast which her father had apparently requested for her.  Minseok shrugged helplessly.  Seoyeon nibbled at her fingernails, wondering what to do.  Would it be overkill?  She didn’t even know how much Jongdae liked to write.

“Miss Han,” said Minseok, “are you going to want fruit trays as well as the cooked breakfast?”

“Fruit?” she repeated blankly before realising what he was talking about.  “Oh!  Fruit!  Yes, fruit would be very nice, thank you.”

“Any particular fruit?”

Maybe a reading desk was a better idea than a writing one, Seoyeon mused.  Or perhaps Jongdae would like a comfortable armchair to read in, like she did.  Yes, a comfortable armchair seemed about right.

“Any fruit,” she said distractedly.  “You’re the chef.  How big an armchair do you think would go in this corner?”

Minseok raised his eyebrows.  “I thought you wanted to put in a writing desk?”

“An armchair would be much better.”

“True.  Well, Miss, if you don’t need me for anything else, I’m going to get back to cooking dinner.”

Seoyeon was so preoccupied trying to figure out what kind of armchair would look best that she didn’t do more than nod vaguely in his direction.

She had to go for a walk outside before dinner to clear her mind.  Seoyeon had never suspected that trying to place furniture would be so mentally draining, and she really hoped that it was something she would only have to do on rare occasions.  But overall, she was satisfied with what she had planned out, and she was hopeful that Jongdae would appreciate it.

Musing over Jongdae’s potential reactions, she eventually found that she had drifted to a halt by the gates.  The guard patrols were just changing over, and she stood under the archway, almost pressed up against the railings and staring absently out at the ghost fires.  They seemed a bit taller than previously, the leaping flicker of the flames compelling and calming.  Seoyeon’s thoughts drifted away as the fire filled her vision.

“Darling!” a voice called softly on the evening breeze, and Seoyeon jumped, rudely returning to reality when her head clanged against the iron bars of the gate.  Biting back a curse, she staggered back, rubbing her forehead.

“Darling!” the voice repeated, and she went still.  The tone was familiar.  The tone was very familiar.  Fighting back the lump rising in , Seoyeon looked up.

The figure from the last time she’d seen the fires was standing there, in front of the flames.  Her form was shadowy, seemingly made of smoke, but Seoyeon would have recognised her anyway: there was no way she could ever have forgotten her mother’s voice.

“Darling,” the ghost said again, softly, reaching out wispy hands.

“M-m-mother?” Seoyeon stuttered.  Somehow, she was pressed back up against the gate already, her hands reaching through.

It was hard to tell at twilight on a face made of smoke, but Seoyeon was pretty certain that her mother smiled.  She reached out a smoky hand, moving forward, when somebody prodded Seoyeon’s shoulder.

With a shriek, she spun around.  Baekhyun was standing there.

“Apparently the fires hypnotise you if you stare at them too long,” he told her, looking just a little bit too excited.  “Also, you’re going to miss dinner if you don’t come now.”

Annoyed that he’d interrupted her, Seoyeon followed him back over to the fortress.  She couldn’t help one last glance back over her shoulder, to the ghost of her mother.  It looked forlorn as it stood there.  Had Baekhyun seen the ghost?  She hoped he hadn’t.  Then again, if he had, he probably would have said something.  Baekhyun was not terribly good at keeping things to himself, after all.

Seoyeon had not expected to sleep well that night, for two reasons.  First, the frustration of a chance to talk to her mother being interrupted was intense.  Would her mother be there again if she went another time?  Seoyeon hoped so, but she had no way of being sure.

Second, the next day was her birthday, and combined with the frustration from earlier was a certain amount of excitement, combined with a large dollop of loneliness.  Usually, her mother organised all the birthday fun.  It would be her first birthday without her, and part of Seoyeon was dreading it.

A possible third reason to prevent her from sleep well that night could have been the Neuma, but for the past few days it had been calm.  Somewhat to her surprise, though, Seoyeon found herself comfortably curling up as the candles burnt low, and despite not being hugely tired, she was soon asleep.

While the night passed peacefully, the same could not be said of the morning itself.  Seoyeon woke up substantially earlier than normal — in fact, normally she only woke up just before Jieun arrived or the maid actually shook her awake when she came in in the morning to make sure that everything was in order.  The candles had long since all gone out, leaving the room dark, but it took her several long moments to figure out that the room was not as dark as it should have been.  Her body clock told her that it was still dark outside — winter had all but set in — and the shutters had remained closed all night, ensuring that no light would be able to creep in from outside even if the sun had been up.  Yawning, Seoyeon sat up and looked around her, wondering why she was able to see something of the room in front of her.  It was a good few minutes before she finally realised that there was light shining through chinks between the wall and the servant door.

Seoyeon frowned.  She couldn’t think why there was light there, but eventually she concluded that Jieun must have left a lantern there last night, for whatever reason, and she got out of bed with the intention of retrieving it.  Even though it was minimal, there was still a risk of fire from unattended lanterns, especially in areas like the secret servant passages, large portions of which had wooden panelling.

Reluctantly, she eased herself out of the comfort of her bed and at once was hit by a shock of cold air.  The warmth from the fire the previous evening had died with the embers a number of hours before, and so she reached back for a blanket to wrap around herself to stop her shivering before approaching the servant’s door.  She had to study it for several long seconds when she was actually in front of it, because it had no obvious handle in order to keep it hidden in the wall, but she knew that Jieun managed to open it when for all intents and purposes it looked closed, and so she prodded about a bit until a small panel of wood about the size of her middle finger popped out, revealing a latch mechanism behind it, and then gingerly eased it open.  The door had a very strong spring, which she hadn’t expected, and she had to physically hold it open as she moved to peer round it.

Sleeping peacefully in a nest of furs and blankets on the tiny landing beyond the door, before the servant stairs disappeared down into darkness on the left, was Captain Park.  Two burnt out candles lay beside him — perfumed ones, like the ones in her room, because the scent was strong — and a flame was burning steadily in his bare hand.

Seoyeon screamed.  The door slammed shut as she scrambled back, shaken and trying to work out why on earth Captain Park would be sleeping just outside her room.  He had to have been the one creeping around in it in the middle of the night just a couple of weeks before.  If it was something that he did regularly, then it was beyond creepy.

For several seconds, she tried to calm her heart and her breathing, which had both started racing.  Anger began to replace her shock, and with determination, she started forward again, fumbling with the latch system and determined to give Captain Park a piece of her mind.

When she opened the door again, there was no one there — not even a trace.  It was dark enough to make it hard to see, but Seoyeon stepped through, keeping one hand on the door so that it wouldn’t shut completely, and felt around with her foot until it nudged the opposite wall.  Then she paused and listened.  The steps were made of wood, and she was sure they’d creak under the weight of somebody as large as Captain Park was.  But there was nothing.  He had completely vanished, as if he’d never even been there in the first place.

Bewildered, she returned to her room.  Had she imagined it?  It would have been an odd thing to imagine.  Why would she have imagined it?  She was sure she hadn’t — she’d seen the light.  But then, Captain Park had quite literally been holding a flame.  But then again, hadn’t Jieun said one of the other maids had said she’d seen Captain Park cupping flames in his hands before?

Seoyeon turned so quickly on her heel that she nearly fell and twisted her ankle.  Pacing wasn’t going to get her anywhere, she abruptly realised, but she was too agitated to go back to bed.  Something needed to be done about Captain Park, though, because sleeping outside her room like that — what if he’d actually been into her room? — was crossing a line.  Swapping the blanket for a much more appropriate dressing gown, Seoyeon flung open her main bedroom door and marched down to her father’s suite of rooms.

A few servants were setting up breakfast in the parlour when she walked in, but she ignored them in favour of her father, who was also dressed in a dressing gown and talking to Minseok.

“Father,” she began as she approached.  He looked up, and then beamed at her, spreading his arms.

“Sweetie!” he exclaimed.  “You’re up early.  Happy birthday!”

Seoyeon had completely forgotten it was her birthday, and the surprise at being reminded gave him time to sweep her into a gigantic hug.

“Thank you,” she managed to say before returning to the task at hand.  “Father, can you please do something about Captain Park?  I found him sleeping outside my room just a few minutes ago — he was all bundled up with blankets and furs and he’d evidently been there all night.  I’m pretty sure it’s not the first time, either — there was an intruder in my room not that many nights ago and all the indicators point towards it being him.  It’s terribly unsettling and I’m worried he’s—”

Her father pulled back, frowning as he looked at her.

“Sweetie,” he interrupted, “you look terrible.”

“Captain Park has been camping outside my room and it’s creeping me out!” she burst out.

Everybody in the room turned to stare at her.  Even Minseok looked fairly shocked.

“I know, sweetie, I heard you,” said her father, pulling her back into a hug.  “We’ll sort this out tomorrow.  Today’s your birthday, and you should enjoy it.”

“No!” Seoyeon protested, squirming in his arms.  “Do something about it now!  Can’t you get rid of him, please, Papa?”

Minseok interrupted with a polite cough.  “My lord, I think it’s more appropriate for me to take my leave,” he said, signing quickly with his hands to the servants.  “Breakfast is basically set and I assume you’d prefer privacy on this matter.”

“Yes, that’s probably for the best,” Seoyeon’s father agreed.  Then, after a brief hesitation, he added, “once breakfast is over, have Baekhyun send Chanyeol up to me.  I think it’s best that he’s not part of the celebrations today but I’ll sort everything out properly tomorrow.”

Seoyeon buried her head against her father’s chest as the servants finished off the last couple of things they needed to do and left.  He only pulled away once the door had shut behind the last of them.

“All right, sweetie,” he said, guiding her gently over to the breakfast table and directing her to sit in one of the chairs.  Rather than the carved armchair he usually sat in, he took the one next to her.  “Captain Park won’t bother you for the rest of the day, so let’s forget about him, hm?  It’s much more important that you enjoy yourself.  Today’s your birthday, after all.  Here, have some pastries — Minseok’s really outdone himself.”

Seoyeon was feeling quite a bit better by the time she and her father had eaten her way through the feast that Minseok had put on for them for breakfast.  Her father had also given her the first gift he had for her — a stunning winter silk dress that he and her mother had apparently designed for when she reached the age of majority, but they had changed their minds and had it made when they had realised her mother was dying.

“She had hoped to be here still for your birthday to see you in this,” her father told her when Seoyeon returned from her room wearing it to show it off to him.  He brushed a tear away from his eye.  “Sweetie, you look beautiful.”

That was not something that Seoyeon could contest, though she felt it had more to do with the dress than it did with her.  The dress fit like a second skin, warm from the many layers that made it up.  The main silk was gold, though it had little pearls stitched all over it and details in silver thread, and some of the under-petticoats were in cream silk of slightly lesser quality.  The skirts themselves were slightly larger than Seoyeon was used to because there were so many layers, but she knew that it was currently the fashion and she had absolutely no reason to complain about it.  They came right down to the floor, and it looked like she was floating whenever she walked.

Jongdae arrived soon after.

“Nice dress,” was his first comment on seeing her, followed quickly by, “happy birthday!”

“Do I have lessons?” Seoyeon asked him, half hoping for the answer no.  It wouldn’t be too bothersome if he said yes, though, so long as he didn’t require anything too difficult of her.

“Not really.  I thought we’d start off with some reading, and then after lunch I’m going to teach you some games.”  He took his satchel — it looked like it was brand new — off his shoulder.  “Also, I have a gift for you.”

He held the satchel out to her.  Surprised, Seoyeon took it and just stood there.

“Well?”  He nodded at the satchel.  “Open it.  I would have wrapped it up if all I was giving you was the bag.”

Sitting down in the nearest chair, Seoyeon did as she was bid.  There were various different pockets and compartments in the satchel, and only one — the perfect size for one of her books — had been left empty.  Four crystal vials were strapped in on one side of the main compartment, and in the little pockets on the other side of it were sprigs of the various apothecary herbs she’d learnt to use.  Another compartment contained a brand new set of sewing equipment, complete with all shapes and sizes of needles and even a large spool of catgut.  Seoyeon grimaced playfully when she saw it and Jongdae laughed.  In yet another compartment was a notebook and a small pouch to protect a quill, alongside a tiny pot of ink.  The very last compartment contained something she hadn’t seen before.

“What’s this?” she asked curiously, holding up the strange leather pouch.  It had a little stopper attached to it.

“That’s a wineskin,” Jongdae told her.  “It came with the satchel — it’s a travelling satchel.  You should probably only fill it with water or juice, though.  I don’t want your fat