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The Do mansion was a flurry of movement.

Rooted in her spot in front of the television, Jandi watched, as if from another body, as servants rushed about, closing windows and drawing curtains. Somebody had turned off the television to keep the noise from alerting potential rebels to the occupants inside, but Jandi still stared sightlessly into the screen, not seeing even her own reflection.

Geumdo. She couldn’t think of anything else; Geumdo was the only coherent word that could form in her head, echoing again and again like some horrible, broken record spiraling out of control. Images of her parents and siblings, of the village square where she had grown up playing with her friends, of the translucent green leaves of the trees she’d climbed countless times flooded through her mind’s eye with the force of a tsunami, sweeping her under with no hope of re-emerging. Jandi didn’t know if she was even breathing anymore at this rate.

An indeterminate length of time later, the room was dark and a maid was shaking Jandi’s arm. “Young Mistress, you need to move further into the house. We’re too close to the windows and main doors as it is.”

Jandi shivered. It didn’t dispel the chill in her bones. “Fine,” she managed to get out, and allowed the maid to pull her to her feet and out of the room.

“Young Master will be home soon, don’t you worry.” The maid hadn’t seemed to notice her stupor, or if she had, she didn’t comment on it. “His driver knows how to get through the back gates. He’ll be back in no time.”

Kyungsoo. Jandi only felt faintly guilty that she hadn’t thought of him once since the news broke. He would be fine, wouldn’t he? He had all his personal guards and his driver with him for protection, and besides, Kyungsoo always knew about these kinds of things far before she did. This last thought came with a stab of resentment, so sharp it surprised her.

The numbness was fading quickly now, replaced by anger. He’s my husband, my goddamn husband! Her fists clenched. Why, of course I’m upset! Even if he doesn’t see fit to tell me about the rebels, even if he doesn’t want to talk to me about his parents or his work, he should at least have the common decency to tell me about an attack on my own hometown! She wanted to scream. She would have, should have, but it seemed her vocal chords weren’t functioning all too well at the moment.

The urge to scream didn’t disappear, but by the time it had diminished enough that Jandi felt slightly more in control of herself, the maid was gone. Jandi was in the library. Everything was dark, and she didn’t know how much time had passed or where anyone else was, but she did know she was trembling with barely contained emotion, and her palms were bleeding from where her nails had dug in and not let go. Now that the numbness was gone, the little crescent-shaped cuts stung, but she couldn’t make herself relax her fists. Geumdo. Family. Attack.

The door to the library banged open, and her husband rushed in, eyes wild. “Jandi?”

She didn’t move. Rebel army. Thousands armed against a poor village of hundreds.

“Jandi!” He was in front of her now, kneeling by the foot of the loveseat and shaking her. “Jandi, look at me!”

Some soft little part of her recognized the anxiety in his expression, the desperation dripping from his voice, and pitied him. The rest of her, however, didn’t care. Majority wins. She kept staring blankly at the door.

Kyungsoo had given up on shaking her by now. “Why won’t you answer?” he whispered, trying to meet her gaze. “What -” His eyes dropped to her hands and the bloody crescents. “Oh God, Jandi, what have you done to yourself?”

Her hands probably looked worse than they felt, Jandi thought, knowing the blood had probably smeared all over her palms. They didn’t feel that bad. Not really.

Nevertheless, Kyungsoo pried at her nails, forcing them to open and release her raw palms from their self-induced torture. A silky white handkerchief had appeared in his other hand, dabbing at the cuts, and Jandi barely resisted the urge to laugh. A handkerchief, of all things, in this situation!

He muttered curses under his breath as he worked, folding the handkerchief over to expose more clean cloth. “Who left you here on your own anyway? I can’t believe they just sat you in the library in the dark by yourself like this. I’ll -”

He didn’t seem to be talking to her, not really, Jandi thought. At least, he didn’t seem to be waiting for a response. That annoyed her, more than she had expected - how dare he, how dare he give up on talking to her so easily, so quickly when he had barely tried at all - and before she knew it, she had raised the hand that wasn’t being scrubbed clean by the annoyingly white handkerchief and slapped him across the cheek.

It didn’t make as satisfying a smack! sound as she had wanted, but the look of utter shock on Kyungsoo’s face as he stared at her, right cheek reddening already, was almost as good. The infernal handkerchief had dropped to the ground, but he was still holding her other hand.

“Jandi?”

She fumed, itching to slap him again. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that, Do Kyungsoo?”

It was his turn to be silent now as he gaped. His lack of response only egged Jandi on further.

“I can understand you wanting to keep secrets from me about the rebel movements and security at the palace, but this? This is my family, Kyungsoo! My hometown!” She flung his hand off her. “How can you expect me to be okay when my husband knows all about a rebel attack on my own home but doesn’t tell me and instead goes prancing off to some televised debate to look pretty and up to the voters?”

The words just kept coming out, like some sort of verbal avalanche, and Jandi