When Narae wakes up, it's already dark outside and she feels like she'd endured the worst fever of her life. Her eyes blink bleary, adjusting to the image of an intricate ceiling, and yet it's like she's  familiar with it. To her vicinity, by her bedside, there's Jihyun, and it then dawns on her: she's back in the palace's guest chambers.

"What happened to me." she sits upwards quickly, her question more of an agitated statement. She feels reinvigorated, she doesn't feel ill anymore. How odd, she remembers fainting. She remembers her head pounding like a drum with pain and blood dribbling from her nose. Tentatively, she reaches to touch under her nose, as if expecting blood that would smear her fingers. But there's none.

"Why did you not say anything, sister? You told us nothing, we had no way of knowing!"

"Know what?"

"Your wrist. That is a soulmate mark."

The simple utterance of such notion sends a queasy feeling to her gut. Not disappointment, instead dread. A soulmate. Impossible. She doesn't believe in things like that. Though, as it proves to be true according to Jihyun's accusation...it stems from worry, for herself and whoever her soulmate might be. Her life is not an easy, mundane one, she has dedicated herself to the cause of learning to hunt demons and now, when the threat grew to engulf their land, this: an impediment. Not only does it complicate the situation but it will also pose danger for him and herself, because she catches on fast: "The mark. Is it making me sick?"

"It's not the mark, it is the bond you share with your soulmate..."

Jihyun tells her what transpired while she was unconscious, the eldery woman's words and the journey back to the palace.

"Father sent the rest of the convoy with Chanyeol to Jeonju, he entrusted him to take a message to Kyungsoo's father. He spoke to the Emperor and asked for his help. We will be staying here from now on, however long is necessary. He will also tell the Emperor about demons."

It's rare that she sees Jihyun be serious but she knows her younger sister cares about her, and so does Bom. Narae twists the covers's fabric in her hands, looking down at herself. Her long hair is untied and she's wearing a single layer of thiner, light clothing. "Father thinks someone from the palace is my soulmate?" she asks.

A spark, like a surge of excitement mixed with nervousness flashes in her chest. Her thoughts reel to a person in particular: Prince Baekhyun. It can't be.

"Either that or someone from the capital outside the palace. How do you feel?"

"Good...I'm good."

"Good or...excellently good?" Jihyun's lips stretch like that of a cheshire cat.

"Just good." the eldest Hwa supplies a flat response. 

"Hmm...if you say. Imagine, it can be any of the princes! Or a nobleman! A romantic scholar who will write you love poems. A musician! He will play the flute or the zither and compose songs about you. A painter! He will paint you and immortalize your beauty." the other girl enumerates, before she becomes gloomy at once, a sour look on her face. "But...what if he is an eunuch?"

"I don't know."

"He will never be able to pleasure you properly!"

"Jihyun..." she warns, glad the guest quarters are mostly empty and the chance of someone hearing her sister is quite small.

"Oh, admit it...that would be such a tragedy."

"Jihyun."

"You're no fun." she gives her a fake pout, crossing her arms. Jihyun stands up. "I'll go. You have to stay in bed. Royal physician's order. You might feel alright but you need to rest."

Narae lowers herself back on the bed, closing her eyes along with the sound of the closing doors.

This is more difficult than it seems. She can't fathom when she'd gotten that mark.

Gradually, she makes a mental list of the people she encountered on their visit in the capital, which ends up being fruitless. Merchants, servants, the princes, noblemen, commoners... 

If only that old woman would've said more, she could have figured it out better. 

She has no knowledge that the mark comes into existence through touch. 

...

Something cold and wet rouses Baekhyun from his slumber, squarely placed upon his forehead. It's like he's returning from the world of the dead and his limbs regain their strength the more he shifts to hear and sense his surroundings, but perhaps that's just him exaggerating. He recalls a headache that sickened his entire body with awful pains, nothing past that. As he sits up in his bed, a water soaked cloth falls to his lap.

"Your Highness?"

"Mmm...why are you being so loud, Bongsuk?" he groans, cupping the side of his head.

"Your Highness, you must take care of your health. You fainted."

"I feel fine."

"That's strange...I was sure you've been poisoned or you are suffering from a mysterious illness." the old physician rubs his beard thoughtfully.

"But I feel okay." Baekhyun throws the covers off, jumping to his feet to demonstrate his argument. He flexes his hands, moves his legs, cracks his neck. "See?"

"Even so, Your Highness must not leave the bed, we do not know whether you've fully recovered!"

"Old man, I'm telling you: I'm really fine. You can't force me to stay in bed, I'm not a child." he sasses in the midst of changing his robes. "I want to speak to my father."

Bongsuk mutters to himself at the young man's exuberance. "His Majesty the Emperor is busy. He is in the throne room with merchant Hwa." the physician responds. 

"They're back? Why?" Baekhyun's brows knit. His movements of slipping on the last layer of his clothing halts.

"It is a confidential topic as far as I've heard..." his mother's voice produces an explanation from the doors of his princely chambers. She walks inside slowly, dismissing the physician with a delicate gesture of her hand.

"Baekhyun." she begins as they have the privacy of talking. "Why did you not tell me about the mark?"

"You said it was just a myth. What of it?"

"I lied..." a pause follows her affirmation, concealing a cough that racks through her ribs painfully. "The reason I have always been sick...is because my soulmate died."

"What...?" shock flickers over his visage. 

"Like you, I used to bear the same mark. My soulmate...he was a fa