Soo jerked awake in the middle of night, breathing hard as she tried to escape an unknown threat. Her uncomprehending eyes scanned her dark surroundings, and when she couldn’t see anything, she felt around her, her fingers immediately coming into contact with the sheer curtains surrounding the bed she was on. Confused, she drew them back.

A window was open, and from it, came pale moonlight.

Soo shied away when she realized there was a man there, standing as still as a statue, only she hasn’t seen that many statues from this time.

This time.

Ah, right, she was in Goryeo, in the middle of the tenth century. And she had been running from… from…

She sighed inwardly, unable to remember her dream. It was a recurring dream, that much she knew, and one she had trouble remembering while awake.

Especially since now that she was awake, a more pressing memory has invaded her mind…

Hoping he did not notice her, she laid quietly back down, her back to him, fingers on her lips. She wondered if falling asleep so easily and comfortably in a strange bed with a strange man nearby was indecent of her.

But, after all, they were married now and would have to get used to spending more nights with each other like this.

Or perhaps she felt comfortable because she knew, deep down, that he wouldn’t really hurt her…

And they’d spent many days and nights in close proximity before while traveling…

And perhaps, most of all… it was because he wasn’t really a stranger to her anymore.

“Do you plan on waking at all today?” a male voice asked, forcing her to wake up.

He sounded near. Cracking open one eye, she saw that he was - sitting on the floor right outside the canopy. She tried not to think of it as a mating bed as nothing of the sort happened the previous night. On the contrary, her wedding night had been rather cold.

She groaned loudly and rolled over, burying deeper into the covers. “And have people poke at me? I don’t think so.”

“I sent them away.”

At this, she sat upright, wide awake. “You did? When?”

“A long time ago."

Frowning, she drew back the red curtains that had been partially blocking out the day, and shut her eyes against the sudden brightness.

“What did you say to them?” she asked, withdrawing to rub her eyes.

“I told them you were indecent.”

She stopped moving. She drew back the curtains again. “And they believed that?” She didn’t understand… after all, these women had seen her before.

He turned his head to frown at her. “Nobody questions the words of a prince.” Not when he’s grumpy and absolutely refuses to budge, he didn’t add.

Soo couldn’t believe it: again she had worried over nothing. Still, there was cause to be grateful. “Oh. Okay. I’m confused whether or not I should be thanking you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. If we leave this room, they’ll find some way to pin you down and check.”

“Which means we’re stuck here. For how long?”

“A few days.”

“Days? I was thinking maybe until sundown!” She felt anxious, wondering if she could stand another night like the one before. Or did he mean for them to keep trying until they finally managed it?

He looked at her like she was stupid. “If we had slept together, how long do you think before you stopped hurting?”

“Er…” she mumbled awkwardly, avoiding his eyes, trying to remember her first time. “I don’t know. Maybe three days? If… we only… did it a few times… and also… depending on…” She waved her hands vaguely, hoping he wouldn’t ask for details. Considering this prince’s reputation, the people would no doubt have assumed that he would be the rough sort of lover.

Bacon, mushroom and cheese. I can’t believe I’m having this discussion right now. She had never discussed so pragmatically before, and certainly not with a man.

Thankfully, he didn’t ask for details. “That means we’re stuck here for three days at least.”

“You know what? I think since we’re already doing it, we might as well extend that to a week.”

He looked perplexed. “Doing it?”

“Not it, it!” she stammered, red-faced from embarrassment. “I meant staying in this room together! Since we agree we ought to hide it out for a while, we might as well make it a week to be absolutely safe.”

He was looking at her funny; she wondered if she was being too forward in asking him to spend another week alone with her in his room.

For what seemed an eternity, he remained too stunned and she too embarrassed to break the silence, until finally, no longer able to stand it, she cleared loudly and said, “Do we have any food? I’m starving. I hardly ate anything at the wedding banquet.”

“Yes,” he replied, snapping out of it. He cleared his own throat and nodded towards the cabinets lining the wall. “They brought it in when they came to check you. It’s probably cold by now.”

“That’s fine, it’s not like we always had warm meals while traveling anyway.” She fixed her silk robe around herself, gathered her courage, and stepped out of the canopy, trying not to feel too self-conscious as she imagined his eyes following her.

She had just reached the food when he said, “By the way… what is ‘okay’?”

The question made her pause, silently cursing herself for that little slip of the tongue. Smiling sheepishly back at him, she replied, “Oh. It’s just another word for ‘alright’.” She brought the tray back to the bed, noticing that the food was untouched, and sat beside him on the floor, the food between them.

She held out the second pair of chopsticks, and after a moment’s hesitation, he accepted them.

They ate silently. In her experience, meals spent in this manner could progress in two very different ways: either become more awkward, or more comfortable. She noted with relief and satisfaction that though this meal had started out somewhat awkward, it ended rather comfortably, even though none of them spoke the entire time.

“Your Highness…” she mumbled sometime later, slumping against the bed, “what do you usually do when you’re alone?”

“I think.”

She couldn’t see much fun in that, but to try and understand him better, she decided it was worth the effort to follow his example: keep still and just think. Stare out the window. Think of what?

The gray clouds were back and gathering; it would rain soon, the days very short now, and cold. Some of the trees have completely shed their leaves, and she could no longer hear the birds singing. Everything was still… and silent.

She fell asleep.

When she came to, she found herself curled up on the floor, the red blanket tucked around her, and their tray of food gone. But he was still there, sitting in the same spot.

So much for thinking.

Embarrassed, she sat up. “Have I been asleep long?”

“All afternoon.”

That was something. The rain and the nimbus clouds accounted for the gloom both outside and inside the room. But it wasn't unpleasant. On the contrary, Soo had always liked rainy days - as long as there was a roof over her head. “Did you sleep?”

“No.”

She eyed him wryly, remembering how she had found him awake in the middle of the night last night. “Do you ever sleep ?”

He didn’t answer right away. “I don’t sleep well.”

Something about the way he said it - softly but with a hard edge to his voice - made her want to ask why. But she didn’t know if he would answer her, and she didn’t want what comfortable whatever this was they had between them to disappear by asking awkward questions. So she came up with a plan. As it was getting dark and no one had come to light their candles (inarguably part of her uncles’ plan to get them mated sooner rather than later), she would have to wait for tomorrow to do it.

“If you’re hungry, they brought in more food while you were asleep,” he informed her, nodding towards the same cabinets from earlier.

She sighed. “Well, we should use the remaining light wisely.”

The rest of the evening would be spent in absolute boredom, in the dark, in contemplative silence. When Soo awoke on their second day, she decided she’d had enough of sleeping and thinking.

“Thinking makes me sleep. What say you to a game?” She clambered off the bed and sat on the floor directly in front of him.

He frowned at her. “A game?”

“Rock, paper, scissors!” she told him, holding up her hand in demonstration. “I think it's about time we got to know each other. Don’t you agree?”

He was back to looking at her like she was crazy, but she was undeterred. “Rock… paper… scissors,” she explained, showing him the corresponding signs. To speed things along, she took his hand and balled it into a fist, ignoring how he had flinched at her touch.

“Rock,” she repeated, showing her own fist. She poked at his and opened to say-

“Rock, I get it.” He wondered what she was thinking of doing now.

“Paper.” She spread her palm and fingers wide open and did the same for his. She had seen his hand this up close only once before: when he had taught her how to write their names. But this time, as she straightened his long fingers and felt his roughened palm… she felt clearly just how different they were.

Her hand was small, white, soft and smooth. His hand was large, suntanned, hard and rough, and there were little, old scars that she suspected had been from when he was learning how to wield a variety of weapons.

Once, when she was a young girl, her mother had told her to take care of her hands so that when she got older, they would remain beautiful. Her mother had had rough, calloused hands - the result of years of hard labor, living in the North. But Soo didn’t think her mother’s hands were ugly, for every line, every scar had told a story - her mother’s story.

Looking at the prince’s hands, she imagined she could see his story, too. She wondered if, someday, he would willingly tell her about himself.

She realized she had been staring and quickly cleared . “Paper.”

“Paper.”

“Lastly… scissors,” she mimed cutting off his thumb and grinned. “Paper covers rock. Rock smashes scissors. Scissors cuts paper. We hide our hands and show each other our choices at the same time. Whoever has the advantage lets the other do whatever he or she wants. Fair enough?” She wondered if he understood that.

“Whatever he or she wants,” he repeated, eyeing her seriously.

She didn’t know why she blushed. Perhaps it was the way he said it… that made it sound like he was implying… something not quite innocent.

She hadn’t thought of that at all when she suggested the game… but if events were to escalate in that direction… she reasoned at least she was comfortable and better prepared to guide him this time.

Assuming he needed guidance.

“Yes. Pinky promise.” She hooked her pinky around his and said seriously, “We do whatever the other wants. Deal?”

He brought up their entwined fingers with a look of the utmost confusion on his face, making her laugh out loud. “That’s a deal, then! Shall we start?”

“What happens if we both have the same sign?”

She was impressed by how quickly he was able to grasp the mechanics of the game. “We keep showing different signs until one tops the other.”

“Ah.”

“Deal?”

He frowned, hearing that word again. Did she make these words up by herself? “Deal?”

“It means do we have an agreement?”

“Ah. I guess so.”

“Great!” she beamed, readying herself. “On three. Rock, paper, scissors… one, two, three!”

She laughed theatrically, feeling triumphant as she slowly crushed his scissors. “Ok. What I want…” she mumbled in thought. Small things first. “Tell me your favorite tea.”

“Of all the things you could have asked me… my favorite tea?”

She glared at him. How dare he mock her generosity? “Shall I ask a more personal question like why you wear that mask?”

He’s stumped. “Fresh leaf tea.”

“Interesting…” she mumbled, taking mental note. “Ok, again. Rock, paper, scissors, one, two, three!”

Her shoulders slumped in dismay to see him covering her rock. He was a fast learner. “You win this round. Fire away!”

“Whatever the person wants, you said? That includes doing something, not just answering questions?”

She blushed in horror, wondering if he was thinking of going straight for the goal.

But all he said was, “Pull up your robe."

She looked down and saw that a bit of her collarbone was showing. “That’s it? Anything in the world and you ask me to cover up?”

"Then shall I ask you to take it off?”

“It’s up,” she said quickly, grabbing the red blanket next and wrapping it around her. She wished she had proper clothes.



 

“One, two, three! Yes!” she laughed, drunk with happiness. “You’re terrible at this. Okay, I want to know who your first friend was.”

“My eldest brother, Mu.”

“Interesting,” she sang, adding that piece of trivia to her stockpile. So far she’s gotten him to tell her his favorite tea, his favorite snack, his favorite color (she regretted asking this as it was pretty obvious through his clothing and personality that he preferred black), his favorite food, favorite animal, and now his first ever friend. She was slowly moving into personal territory and was very eager to ask her next question.

“Rock, paper, scissors… one, two, three!” she chanted. Of course, occasionally he did manage to win.

“Do you really not remember anything from before you met us?”

Confidently, truthfully, she nodded. She reasoned that he hadn’t specifically said “anything from this time” and could therefore say with honesty, “Really nothing.”

“Then how did you end up in Lake Dongji?”

“Hey! One at a time!” she reminded crossly, stuffing his mouth with a whole mushroom as punishment. Their lunch had been sent over about an hour ago, and it was lucky she had draped the blanket over herself because it left a lot to the imagination. Did she have any clothes under the blanket, or was she completely ? Taking into account her disheveled appearance, she hoped the ladies had assumed the latter.

“... one, two, three!” She won again. “Tell me your earliest memory.”

He had to think hard about that one. Quietly, he answered, “The death of our second brother. I was in a room with the crown prince and my mother. Father came in. Hyungnim and I watched as they argued.”

“Oh. I’m sorry about your brother.” But she felt there was more to the story that he wasn’t sharing. “The crown prince… now King Hyejong?”

He made no reply, looking like he was lost in recollections of that day, and she kept quiet, deciding to give him the space he needed.

She was busy studying the pattern on the red blanket when a mushroom came out of nowhere and found its way into . Almost choking, she glared at him.

“You asked two questions.”

She rolled her eyes, chewed as fast as she could, and swallowed. “I was only clarifying!”

“A question is a question, and I think we’ve asked enough for one day.” He stood and got on the bed. “Wake me if someone tries to come in.”

Though disgruntled at not being able to ask any of the real questions she had wanted to, she nevertheless said, “It is about time you got some real sleep. I’ll just sit here and… think.”

About the fact that, apart from that first night, he’s so far managed to avoid getting into bed with her.

She also realized that he hadn’t asked her to tell him anything about herself. All of her questions had been to get to know him, but all he did was ask her to do menial tasks like get water or fix the bed, or to ask about how she and Myunghee had been treated before the rest came, or about how she came to be in Cheondeokjeon palace.

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, she drew back the curtain to find him on his back, arms crossed over his chest and his eyes closed. He had a perfect side profile, with a long nose, sharp eyes, perfectly carved lips. And his ear. She wondered if he would mind her touching it.

Maybe when they’re better acquainted… whenever that will be.

She sighed and let the curtain fall back into place.

But she doubted he was interested in her. That was a depressing thought.

Soo lamented the lack of proper toilets and flowing water. And toiletries. And electricity. Exiting the potty chamber, she used her hands to guide her around the chilly, dark room.

“This is ridiculous. How do they expect us to do anything without light?” she grumbled, bumping into the bed frame with an audible, “Oof!”

She managed to circumvent it without further mishaps, but forgot about the dinner tray on the floor and ended up tripping over it. With a scream, she tumbled forward, but a hand caught her and pulled her upright.

And he felt warm. It felt like years since she’d last felt any form of warmth and begrudgingly congratulated her uncles on their wisdom of keeping their room complete dank and chilly, because she couldn’t help but find this sudden rise in temperature very alluring.

But then he let go, and to hide her embarrassment and cold feet, she immediately got into bed and wrapped the sheets around her.

“Aren’t you at all cold?” she asked, wondering how he could stand to sleep on the cold, hard floor. It wasn’t like they had agreed on it, and it wasn’t like he was unwelcome to share the bed. After all, it was large enough for three people, which meant they could keep a decent amount of space between them while they slept.

“I’m used to it.”

“You know,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking, “I always assumed that royalty… that you would have lived in comfort all your life." It wasn’t really a question, but she hoped he would tell her what she wanted to know.

For a long time, she thought he wouldn’t… but then, surprisingly, he humored her, “When I was four, my parents sent me off to live with the Kangs of Shinju. The mistress there had lost her baby. I was meant to be its replacement.”

She tried to put two and two together. “Were they nice to you?”

There was a moment of bitter silence before he replied, “No.”

“Oh. Did they… hurt you?”

His silence was answer enough.

“But you’re a prince,” she said, feeling indignant on his behalf. “Weren’t they scared of what your parents might do if they found out?” A terrible thought hit her. "Did they never know?”

“They knew.”

The surprise she felt on hearing this was no match for the anger. She could never, never forgive an adult for abusing an innocent child, and parents condoning it was just as bad.

“Children of the royal family are commodities. Either we fulfill our purpose or we die." He said it so casually, so matter-of-factly, she would have thought he didn’t care were it not for the evident anger in his voice.

But Soo was stubborn and her anger was making her forget the cold. “Fine, let’s forget your father… what about your mother? My mother would have never allowed anyone to hurt me!”

To her surprise, he laughed, a bitter sort of laugh that scared her because not only had she never heard him laugh before, but it sounded… in a word, crazed. “My mother wishes me dead. I am dead in her eyes.”

That made Soo inexplicably sad; a sadness punctuated by the hurt in his voice despite the laughter. What kind of mother would want her own child dead? Soo could not understand it.

“You know I… once killed a hundred of her assassins to protect her from my father. She called me a monster and threw me out.” He laughed again, not knowing why he was telling her all this. He had never told anyone, not even Baek Ah. Some things were just not meant to be shared.

He both loved and hated the dark. It was his refuge and his prison… the one place he could turn to that was familiar, that he always sought to escape.

He thrived in darkness, and his greatest fear was that he would one day die in it. Maybe he really was a monster.

Soo had been quiet for some time now, and he thought maybe he had finally managed to scare her off. He thought it just as well as no one had ever asked him such trivial questions as she did earlier and he didn’t know how many more of them he could answer, or if he even wanted to.

He inhaled one shaky breath, hoping she wouldn’t hear it over the sound of the rain beating against the walls and roof. The wind had picked up, and the rain was stronger. Though he didn’t mind the elements, he got up anyway to close the open window, plunging them further into darkness… and silence. He clutched at the windowsill, and leaned his forehead against the wooden panes, willing himself to forget what he had just remembered.

“Will you sleep on the bed tonight?” Her voice was a whisper, so quiet, it might have been the wind playing tricks on him.

She waited but he neither moved nor said anything. She drew the curtain of their bed back to let him know she was being serious, and then scooted back to her side, wondering if he would take her offer.

He was confused. He had just told her something of his history, something that would have driven anyone away in disgust, much more a woman. “I just told you I killed a hundred men in cold blood.”

His confession had scared her, probably less than the thought of what he could potentially still do… but she knew what his future held. If his past was just as bloody, she could only hope to save his present.

“But you didn’t do it for fun,” she told him quietly. “You did it to save your mother. Your intentions were pure. You were a better person than her that night.”

Her words surprised him, so much that he found it hard to understand her. Or was it she who didn’t understand him? “My mother has had hundreds killed for the throne. She rules beside my brother now. Letting her live means I am responsible for the killing of thousands of innocents.”

That did put things into perspective. Swallowing hard, she said, “But you didn’t save her so she could go on killing. You saved her because you loved her.” You didn’t want to be dead in her eyes. "You wanted her to acknowledge you. You cannot blame yourself for her choices. Her actions are her own.”

He didn’t know what to do or think. “Why are you telling me this? Are you saying murder can be justified if done with good intentions?”

That was a tough question to answer, but she had to answer truthfully. “I don’t mean to say what you did was right. Eventually, you will have to pay for it, however… I know why you did it and… I understand.”

“You understand?” he scoffed, half-laughing. How could she possibly understand?

“I understand that this is a place where you sometimes have to kill in order to survive,” she interrupted softly, stilling him. “There is nothing wrong with wanting to live.”

Her words struck him. Was she being sincere? How could she not be repulsed? How could she ask him to spend the night by her side?

As though she had read his thoughts, she said suddenly, “I just don’t want you to sleep on the floor.”

He was finding it very hard to think. If he had been conflicted on their first night, there were no words to describe how he was feeling now. “Why?” was all he could say.

“Because…” she whispered, turning over to face the other wall, “you’re my friend.”

He didn’t know how long he stood there, numb and slightly disoriented, unsure of what to do or what had just happened. Recollections of the past had begun to haunt him, as he had known they would when he had first decided to open up. He used to allow them passage into his soul, to torment as he believed was their right; his punishment…

But this night, as his demons neared, for the first time in a long time, he sought refuge with the living. He wanted to.

With the curtains drawn back, the bed had grown much colder. He knew she was asleep, curled up on her side, and shivering. As she was wearing nothing but a silk robe, it was no wonder she felt so cold all the time.

Slowly so as to avoid waking her, he got into bed and drew the curtains shut. He imagined that doing so meant his demons remained at bay, just hovering out of reach of him. In this little refuge, there really was no one else but her.

It didn’t take long before his body heat eventually drew her to him. He laid there, shocked and still as the bedpost, as her instincts searched for him, for the relief from the cold that only he could give her.

One soft hand clutched at his side. Her head dipped into his arm, and she sighed in her sleep when his warmth reached her face. And then, just when he had reconciled himself to the thought of falling asleep in this manner, she stretched and draped one leg over his, her bare foot snuggling in between his covered ones. She had raised her head too, so that her even breathing suddenly tickled the base of his neck.

“You son of a …” she grumbled suddenly, thumping her fist on his arm strong enough to make him flinch. “Damn you… damn you to hell…”

The next time she raised her fist, he grabbed it and held on. He didn’t understand what she had just said, but she was obviously angry… at someone. He knew she was plagued by bad dreams. Frequently, he had witnessed her gasping in the middle of the night, or else sitting up anxiously, as though afraid. He wondered what her fears were, and whether or not they had something to do with her past.

“Ice cream…” she murmured, actually purring as she stuck her body ever closer to him.

Evidently, her bad dreams have gone, signaling the start to his own nightmare, because whatever this ice cream was, it was doing nothing for his temperature. He felt like his face and ears were on fire, his body able to feel every outward and inward curve of hers, plastered against him the way she was. He decided he had to set a boundary now before things got out of hand, so he grabbed his pillow, forced it between them, and tried not to think about how her leg was making its way up his.

This was going to be another long night.

When Soo woke the next day, the first thing her foggy brain did was to congratulate her on not freezing to death. In fact, and she quickly noticed this with a wave of raw shame, she found she was comfortably snuggled against a warm body. As she had had but one companion for days thus far, she had no trouble recognizing just whose warm body it was.

As carefully as she could, she disentangled herself from him… and that’s when she saw him holding her hand. She blushed, wondering what on earth had happened last night, if anything had happened at all. Did the cooks lace their food with a kind of drug yesterday? She could have sworn she had fallen asleep by herself, tucked safely away on the other side of the bed. She took inventory of her body. Nothing seemed to be amiss.

But what was she doing all the way over here? Did she perhaps… roll over on her own?

While trying to take her fist out of his grasp, she suddenly heard footsteps outside their door. The prince must have heard them too because he moved in his sleep, and Soo, for reasons unknown, plunged back into bed and closed her eyes, trying to act natural.

A knock on the door woke him. He sat up, found her hand still in his, and let go. Soo grumbled something about loud noises and rolled away. He watched as she brought the blanket up over her head and stopped moving.

“Your Highness.”

Soo’s heart was banging so loudly in her chest, it was a miracle Prince So, with his sharp ears, couldn’t hear it. She laid as still as she could as he got off the bed and walked to the door.

She could hear him talking to some people, and a few minutes later, the door closed.

“Did you sleep well?”

His question was said casually enough, but it sent her nerves flying all over the place. How did he know she was awake? Had he been secretly awake the entire time? Should she answer or keep silent?

“If you’re still cold, there’s hot soup.”

Soup. Hot soup. She decided to drop the pretense. Clearing , she replied, “I er… slept very well, thank you.” Was that the right thing to say to someone whose body she had just used as a makeshift furnace? “And you?”

“I don’t sleep.”

She rolled her eyes. He had obviously been asleep when she had woken up earlier. She was tempted to tell him so, but she felt it was awkward and just shut up.

Gathering herself, she left the bed and found him seated on the table, sipping a cup of tea. He didn’t look disturbed in the slightest, which made her think, hopefully, that maybe he hadn’t noticed her body’s shameless stunt last night.

Mustering her dignity, she sat down opposite him, feeling happier as her hands cupped her warm bowl.

“This is our first time eating at this table,” she remarked casually, taking a sip. Chicken soup. Fresh and hot and a perfect way to start her day.

“Our first time sleeping in the same bed, too.”

She coughed, spilling some soup onto the table. She wondered if he was teasing her. Or testing her. “Yes, well. Um… thank you for…” She panicked. Thank you for what? “For… sleeping.”

Embarrassed, she hid her flaming face behind her bowl.

He sounded amused when he said, “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

She decided she would have to come clean about waking earlier than him. “I saw you sleeping. I woke up earlier than you."

“Was I sleeping?”

She fell silent. Should she ask why he had pretended to be asleep? Or perhaps why he hadn’t pushed her away or woken her up earlier?

Slowly, she lowered her bowl and saw that he wasn’t looking. Still, she knew she had his undivided attention.

“Why didn’t you er… wake me up?” she asked, immediately hiding again when his eyes traveled to her.

“I tried.”

‘You did?”

“I even pinched your nose.”

She pouted and felt her nose. “And what happened?”

“You got angry.” He poured himself another cup of tea. “Threw away the pillow I had put between us.”

“Oh.” That explained why it was on the floor. “And er… how long were we…” she waved a hand, trying to find the right words, “were we in that… was I stuck-?”

“All evening.”

Oh my god. She groaned, put down her bowl, and covered her face with her hands. “I am so sorry.”

“You move and talk a lot when you sleep.”

“Do I?” she mumbled. Growing up with both her parents, and then her uncle, she’d always had a bed of her own… and as an adult, her boyfriend had lived in a separate apartment… which meant she had never learned to share a bed with anyone. “And did I…” Just say it , “did I drool on you?”

“I don’t think so.”

She heaved a much needed sigh of relief.

“Your kicks don’t hurt as much as your punches.”

She gaped at him in alarm. Kicks and punches? “Did I hurt you?”

He snorted - the idea of such a little woman physically hurting him was ludicrous. “No.”

That must be why he had held her hand. Soo felt so horrified, she couldn’t find the words to begin her apology. “I can make you a salve,” she offered instead in inspiration. “Or if I find the right herbs, I can mix you up a really good hot bath. It’ll soothe any ache you have, and you’ll come out completely fresh and revitalised and smooth as a baby’s bum.”

It was his turn to cough out liquid.

“Would you like me to give you a massage?” she offered eagerly, leaning forward.

“Soo-yah, I was kidding.” He brushed off drops of tea from his white robe.

She glared at him. She didn’t know what made her do it… perhaps it was a combination of indignation and embarrassment… but she grabbed his pillow off the floor and threw it at him.

Unfortunately, he must have also had a crash course on pillow-catching because he caught it. Easily. “I wasn’t kidding about the punching.”

“Oh?” she said stiffly, feigning indifference as she began to eat. “What a shame. My apologies for whatever bruises you might have.”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. A child could punch harder than you.”

“Ah, but after all, your arms are quite soft.” She relished the indignation on his face as she whispered, “I might have caused some internal damage.”

She really should have expected the pillow. She grabbed it, contemplating whether to throw it back or just get up and whack him good with it, but then she noticed something that made her stop.

“You look human when you smile.”

“I am human.”

“More human, then.” She put a piece of meat on his rice and lowered her voice, “Maybe instead of killing all those people, you could have just smiled at your mother more. That would have saved you a whole lot of trouble and emotional baggage.”

He couldn’t believe how casually she was talking about one of the worst nights of his life. “After everything I told you last night… how can you not be afraid of me?”

She cocked her head to the side, wondering if that was a rhetorical question. They’d had this discussion before, she was sure of it. “I told you… you’re my friend.”

“Eun and Jung are my brothers and even they’re afraid of me.”

She shrugged and cleared . “Well, because now, you’re also my… my h-… my h-” She inhaled and tried again. “You’re my h- oh, you know!” She was finding it hard to say… because he wasn’t her husband. Not technically. Not yet.

He narrowed his eyes.

“By default, I shouldn’t be afraid of you,” she explained matter-of-factly, “or it’ll be grounds for divorce, and if we divorce right now, we’ll all die so… since we can’t get rid of each other, we might as well live with each other.” She put a piece of scrambled egg beside his untouched piece of meat. “And that includes sharing. Eat up, dear , we have a whole day of nothing to look forward to.”

He found it vaguely funny how she expected him to eat when all he could do was stare, dumbfounded as he had never been in his life.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

She smiled sweetly, picked up his piece of meat with her chopsticks, and shoved it into his half-open mouth. “I’m your wife.”