“Lady Miyoung doesn’t seem immersed in the story today…” Her tutor commented, noticing the flow of Miyoung’s reading that day flat and uninterested.

“This one is not of my liking…”

“Still wanting to read poor Literature?”

“It is not that I like reading poor literature, I just do not like reading these poems... Do I really need to know how to recite this?”

“You must do, Milady. Poem recitation is a fine art and many noblemen wish for this trait when choosing a bride for themselves.”

“What about me, Maester Choi? Don’t I have a saying in what traits I wish for a groom myself?”

When Maester Choi looked at her, a part of him still saw a little girl. He recalled the early days of the past summers, when he watched Miyoung play in the courtyard, when she had all the time in the world. When the ringing of laughter of Miyoung was innocent and unconcerned; the summer wind caught in her hair, long and silky black as most noble daughters should have, and her face, as pale as her mother's, with a smile as bright as the sun.

Now, Miyoung’s hair was always tied up with ornaments and accessories, she had outgrown the giggles she used to make and the smiles her eyes used to give. Any man would have seen nothing but a young beautiful and prude lady now, but Maester Choi knew his pupil still had the heart of a dreamer.

He sighed and looked into the eyes of the woman. “Lady Miyoung is growing fast, and soon it will be time for you to marry a noble man and continue the legacy of the Hwang Family. It is important that Milady does her best to please her groom as expected of a powerful family such as yours.”

“My brother didn’t need to read about poems. He read about kings and warfare. How King Jaeyong was the shortest king in height we ever had and his Queen Consort liked eating sweet rice cubes…” Maester Choi chuckled at his Lady’s words.

“Well, King Jaeyong wasn’t the shortest king we ever had. That was King Daehan II. King Jaeyong had the shortest reign of this land, just the mere era of three years, before being exiled and murdered a year after the Third Japanese Invasion…”

“Eighteen years ago.”

Maester Choi smiled. “I see you are keeping with your History studies.”

“Maester Lim helps me with that.” Miyoung answered with a cheeky smile. “You have taught me for years, Maester Choi... “ She added up, recalling the years she spent studying with him. “And I am forever grateful for sharing your wisdom with me. But if I already had my First Moon, before my life turns to be all around my husband; shouldn’t I have, for this brief time, a wish coming true?”

He paused. His glance drifted back to the pages over the small table in that room. The words written in those poems too sweet for his own taste. “What Lady Miyoung would like to read about?” He asked, being rewarded by a cheeky smile of his lady.

“Anything but sonnets and poems.”

The maester nodded and lifted up from the floor, walking through the massive archive of that library. Master Hwang had always been a profound admirer of books and his collection was a wonder on its own. Any book that Master Hwang and his family would want to read would for sure be at their disposal.

Upon finding the one he was looking for, Lord Choi returned to his seat with the books in his hands. He prompted a smile, presenting the volume beneath his lady’s eyes. “This is the favorite book of my son.” He said, calmly. “He reads it every night before going to bed.”

“Tales of Land and Sea of Folks from Joseon?”

“It’s a collection of tales, ballads and stories of all kinds of folks that live in our kingdom.”

Miyoung’s eyes gleamed with light.

“It is said that our kingdom have the most interesting folks of them all. I am sure that Lady Miyoung will find a tale here that speaks dear to her heart.”

She smiled, her eyes taking the form of a smile. “Oh, Thank you, Maester Choi.”

“Just don’t tell Master Hwang that I let you have this poor piece of writing.”

“How could it be a poor piece of writing if it’s the favorite book of Maester Choi’s son, the Literature Maester of The Hwang Province?” That picked a smile of pride from Maester Choi’s lips. “Tales of common folks can be as rich as the poems written for the noblemen.”

“Milady has a dangerous feeling of endearment towards the exterior world and its folks. You should be careful with it. Reality is harsher than it seems.”

“I know, that is why I want to read those stories.” She answered, confidently. “If am I only able to read poems and fables, how could I know the name of the hero who is sung by the people in taverns? Poems and fables have their worth in our lives, Maester Choi, but my heart doesn’t beat for them.”

“Excuse-me my words, Lady Miyoung, but you will learn later in life…” He absently replied. “That your heart won’t beat for anything other than your own survival.”

~~*~~

“Lady Miyoung…” A voice interrupted her. Miyoung couldn’t help but tighten her grip over the book her Literature Maester had given her. She stood there, her eyes glazing over the entrance door of her room, seeing the shadow of her handmaiden behind it.

Her young heart was beating in content for the gift of her tutor, and she didn’t like that someone was disturbing her reading. She still had some pages to read until she knew the end of that tale.

“Lady Miyoung…” But as the call for her name emerged in the air again, Miyoung knew she had to postpone her reading.

“Yes…” She answered behind the door.

“Excuse-me but I come with a gift, Milady.”

A gift? Miyoung wondered from whom could it be this time. She’s been receiving a lot of gifts recently, so it was told by her servant, but her lord father always took them away, never really accepting them fully. The fact that her father agreed to let Miyoung have this one gift specifically made Miyoung raise tall in suspicions.

“Come in.” She said, inviting her servant in.

As Juhyun walked inside, Miyoung noticed the festive hanbok on her maiden’s hands.

Her handmaiden held the gown up for her. "This is for you, Milady. Isn’t it pretty?”

Lady Miyoung touched the gown, following the words of her handmaiden.The cloth was so smooth that it seemed to run through her fingers like water.

The fabric was made of finest silk and a vibrant color of blue. Vibrant colors were the colors of highborns. And blue was the color of her House. But Hwang Miyoung never really liked the color blue.

"Is it really mine?"

"A gift from Lord Master Shin," Juhyun said. “And Milady shall have gold as well, and jewels of all sorts. Lord Master Shin has promised. Lady Miyoung shall look like a princess he said."

A princess, Miyoung thought. She was no princess. She was a highborn, the youngest daughter of Master Hwang, the Lord Master of the province, but not a princess. And although the world she lives in tries to force her to enjoy when men send her gifts, those gifts had never gotten her heart. Probably because Miyoung knew what those gifts imply. She was fourteen, old enough to know that such gifts come without their price. Especially if they come from another Master Lord.

“Has my Lord Father agreed to it?” She asked, a profound disinterest echoed in her voice.

Her handmaiden hung the hanbok beside the door before answering it.“I do not know, Milady.” She said, shyly. “Lord Master Hwang has called me to give you this gift. If this is his way of accepting your hand to Lord Master Shin’s, I do not know.”

Lady Miyoung nodded her head. “Knowing Father as well as I do, I say it probably is.” She said, a dip of bitter taste filled for a second. “Lord Master Shin, huh? Do you know him, Juhyun?”

It was a rhetorical question. To which Juhyun just meekly answered, “No, Milady.”

“He is the Lord of the Red Mountains.” Miyoung replied, her voice firmly as if she was