Seulgi leans forward, hearing the sloshing of the waves against the skiff she’s in. Even though she’s blindfolded, she looks back as if she can confirm that the oarsman controlling the rudder of the boat is still there.

 

“Don’t worry, girl,” comes the old man’s gravelly voice. He had been her guide, taking her from the ruins of Haedong Yonggung temple to the grotto that served as a passageway to the castle of the Dragon Lord of the East Sea.

 

“Are we… close?” Seulgi asks tentatively, her fingers tightening on the fabric of her skirts. She’d been careful to wear clothes that were less ostentatious than her normal garb as a gisaeng. Although she had been retired for nearly a year, there was still something strange about shedding her usual colorful silks for the drab cotton of a commoner.

 

“You don’t sound too eager to meet your future employer.”

 

“I am grateful for the opportunity to serve the Dragon Lord-”

 

“I can smell your fear, human.” As if to demonstrate, Seulgi hears an exaggerated sniff over the sloshing of water. “You’ve heard the stories, haven’t you?”

 

Seulgi thinks of the whispers she’d heard at the Dragon King’s court a few years ago. Of the contemptuous stories hidden behind silken sleeves and delicately painted fans.

 

“Does it matter?”

 

“Stories always matter. Even if they are not always true.”

 

Seulgi hums at the words.

 

“The Dragon Lord of the East Sea is feared by all under the domain of her father, the Dragon King. She is the first and last of the dragons to have killed another living being by her own hand. And she was gravely punished for it.”

 

“I see. And what was her punishment?”

 

“Her father imprisoned her for nearly a thousand years. They say she has never been the same since.”

 

Seulgi swallows as she thinks of the last glimpse she’d had of the Dragon Lord, melancholy hanging off her shoulders like her rumpled white robes. She lowers her head and tightly grips her skirts again.

 

“I see.”

 

“Hmph. I don’t think you do. You see a monstrous tyrant who you will have to serve for an indefinite period of time.”

 

“Not quite,” Seulgi mutters, feeling the memory of the warmth gentle spring days on her cheeks and the steady sound of her gayageum.

 

“Maybe now,” the oarsman says easily. The sound of wood scraping against rock cuts the air and Seulgi shifts curiously.

 

“We’re close. Do you want to turn back, girl? I can still steer this skiff around.”

 

“I have faced far scarier men than the Dragon Lord,” Seulgi mutters quietly. Torrid stories paled in comparison to some of the very real things committed by the men Seulgi had been forced to play her gayageum for.

 

She gets a cackling laugh in reply which only strengthens her resolve. With lips pressed tightly together, she tries to remain still as the bottom of the boat scrapes against stone and shoal as it gets pushed closer to shore.

 

“You took your time,” greets a voice from a little way off. Seulgi hears an easy laugh from the oarsman as the boat sways in tandem with the lapping waves of the ocean.

 

“Farewell, human. Keep your wits about you.”

 

“Thank you,” Seulgi says, turning toward the direction of where she assumes the oarsman is. She rises to stand, her legs wobbling pathetically with the effort. She grips the side of the boat with trembling hands and takes a bold step toward land.

 

Seulgi’s legs are shaky as she steps off the boat, the blindfold making it difficult to find her balance. A firm hand grabs her arm to hold her steady as she adjusts to the solid ground beneath her feet.

 

“You survived, then?”

 

Seulgi turns her head at the familiar voice. It’s the women who’d gotten this whole thing in motion, proposing for Seulgi to attend to the Dragon Lord of the East Sea at her personal estate almost a year ago. She dips her head in the direction she thinks Sooyoung is in. Distantly, Seulgi hears the crash of waves and practically tastes the tang of salt on her tongue.

 

“Yerim, help her walk. We apologize for these precautions; our Lord has faced multiple attempts on her life and one can never be too careful.”

 

“I understand. I-” Seulgi stumbles and two pairs of hands steady her. She lets out an embarrassed laugh as she tries to adjust her skirts and finds her footing again. She feels her feet sink a little into the ground and guesses she’s walking on sand.

 

“It’s already the evening and the Dragon Lord has retired for bed. We will arrange a proper meeting with her tomorrow morning during the official audience.”

 

“If her condition worsens tonight… will I be allowed to provide my services?”

 

“Of course. That is a part of the arrangement. Your instruments were safely transported ahead of you and arrived earlier today. Yerim will be your attendant and help you move your instruments to and from her Lordship’s quarters.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“If you have any questions or concerns, come talk to me. You will be given a few serving girls in addition to Yerim that will know how to reach me as well.”

 

Seulgi nods to herself and nearly trips again when her feet hit something hard.

 

“Watch your step here. We’re almost at the back gates of the castle.”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

Seulgi adjusts her gait, tentatively feeling with her slippered feet the solid support of rock. She hears the rustle of fabric as someone hastily pulls something from a sleeve.

 

“Is that… Attendant Park and Attendant Kim? What are you doing out by the harbor so late? I had to cover for you when the Dragon Lord went to bed.”

 

“Jaemin, it’s fine. Thank you for your help.”

 

Seulgi shifts as she hears the creak of wood.

 

“No need. We all want the Dragon Lord to feel some peace.”

 

“Ah well, I wish her Lordship felt the same way,” mutters Sooyoung bitterly.

 

“Is that her?”

 

Seulgi turns her head at the voice and attempts a stiff bow.

 

“Hello. I am the one that was requested to attend to the Dragon Lord’s… condition.”

 

“Oh, hello! Thank you for coming.”

 

Seulgi smiles at the words.

 

“I will try to help her as best I can.”

 

“We certainly hope so,” mutters Sooyoung as Seulgi is pushed ahead. She clumsily steps forward, nearly catching herself on the raised wooden threshold of what must be a large door.

 

“Watch your step,” cautions Jaemin from behind as Seulgi feels her arms hoisted upwards and she complies, taking a large step. As she crosses inside, she hears the sound of wood creaking again.

 

Within the gates of what Seulgi assumes is the castle, the crash of waves and the scent of salt subside. Now her feet glide over fine gravel, a texture familiar to her as an entertainer at lavish yangban estates and grandiose gibangs.

 

Suddenly, she hears a new pair of feet approaching them.

 

“Oh good, Sooyoung, you brought her?”

 

“Yes. Is the Dragon Lord sleeping?”

 

“For now. Hello. Are you the famous Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong?”

 

Seulgi swallows as she pivots, trying to pinpoint where this new person is standing before bowing her head.

 

“I apologize for the secrecy of everything. It’s just we want to protect the Dragon Lord from any potential danger. Having a human perfectly memorize how to enter her castle from your world to ours could be troublesome in the future. But here, we can take this off!”

 

Seulgi leans forward eagerly as she feels the knot of the blindfold being tugged free and she’s able to finally see her new temporary home. The scope of the buildings before her is impressive, reminding her of the estates of Ministers at the capital. She’s almost taken aback by the expanse of courtyards. Off into the distance, Seulgi can see a massive structure raised above all the others atop gleaming stairs with a roof of jade and golden support beams.

 

“Is that where the Dragon Lord sleeps?” Seulgi asks breathlessly, reminded of her brief time at the Dragon King’s court.

 

“Yes. And you will be sleeping in this building. It’s usually for visitors from other kingdoms but we aren’t expecting any of those any time soon. You’ll practically have the whole place to yourself.”

 

Seulgi tears her gaze away from the magnificent looking structure to stare at the new person beside Sooyoung and Yerim.

 

“Thank you. My instruments are all intact, I assume.”

 

“Yes, no nicks or water damage. I have experience with instruments, so I swear to you they are all in excellent shape.”

 

Seulgi nods with a thoughtful hum, itching to check on them herself although she cannot help but trust the kindness of the other woman’s words.

 

“I’m Seungwan, by the way. I serve as a physician for the Dragon Lord. I hope that we can make your stay at Her Lordship’s castle as pleasant as possible despite the circumstances.”

 

Seulgi smiles politely, eyes drifting to her feet. She realizes absently that what she thought were crushed gravel are actually bits of small pearl and shiny abalone shell.

 

“Yerim, why don’t you help our guest to her room? She must be tired.”

 

Yerim nods and starts to lead the way to the nearest building. Seulgi exchanges farewells with the remaining two women before turning away to her new residence. Opening the heavy wooden door, her eyes adjust to the dim light from a few candles as she observes three girls slumped at a long table. Two of them are playing with a stick of dark kohl and Seulgi hides a smile as she realizes that one of the girls is sleeping with a realistic moustache on her upper lip.

 

“What are you doing?” growls Yerim and all three of them scramble to their feet.

 

“W-we’re sorry, Attendant Kim!” stammers the smallest girl, unknowingly showing off her moustache in candlelight. The other two girls giggle behind their pale blue sleeves.

 

“Park Chaewon, what on earth is on your face?”

 

The girl jerks in surprise, casting a withering glare at the two giggling girls before rubbing furiously at with the back of her sleeve.

 

“Take care of it later,” sighs Yerim. “This will be the new resident for the Guest Quarters. You’ll be helping her with meals, laundry, and anything else she may need.”

 

“Hello,” Seulgi says as she watches the line of girls bow forward. “You must be tired from waiting for me to arrive. You can rest now.”

 

One of the girls with a puppyish face tries to discreetly hide a yawn behind her sleeve as they all nod.

 

“Attendant Kim?”

 

Yerim straightens.

 

“Would you take me to my instruments? I trust that they have been handled with care, but I wish to see them for myself.”

 

“Of course, follow me.”

 

Seulgi gives one last smile to the tired looking trio before following after Yerim. The smaller girl holds a candle, her skirts practically black in the dim glow. Seulgi stares down the long hallway before them, marveling at the burnished wood of the doors and the window sills.

 

“It’s an impressive estate,” Seulgi murmurs half to herself.

 

“The Dragon Lord’s castle is impressive but it is not quite as lavish as the Dragon King’s. Is that why you initially declined Attendant Park’s invitations?”

 

Seulgi’s jaw clenches as she thinks of the pile of scrolls at the door of her bedroom. Of running her fingers over the silk covers and feeling nothing but shame at the thought of seeing the Dragon Lord in her current state.

 

“I suppose I had to ready my heart for the request.”

 

Yerim glances over her shoulder, her face distorted by the flickering candlelight and shadow. Their eyes meet for a long moment before Yerim turns away, towards a door at the end of the hall.

 

“We’ve placed all of your instruments here. If you want to move anything, let one of the handmaidens know and they can help.”

 

Seulgi peers into the room with the light of Yerim’s candle. She counts the four instruments, still wrapped in thick silks. Walking to the shape of what can only be her gayageum, she squats down and examines the burnished head bridge of the instrument for any damage. She feels Yerim come up behind her so that she can look behind at the wood of the soundboard. For a long moment she rests her hand against the smooth surface, as if she can feel the years of song vibrating against her fingertips. She pauses before finally stepping back and nodding at Yerim.

 

“This room should be fine for now. It’ll be easier to grab instruments when I go to attend to the Dragon Lord.”

 

“That sounds-”

 

“Attendant Kim?”

 

The two of them startle at the sound of someone running down the hall. It’s one of the girls from earlier, sliding to a stop in the hallway with pinwheeling arms.

 

“What is it, Jiwoo?”

 

“The Dragon Lord requires the human’s assistance!”

 

Seulgi blinks in surprise. Already?

 

“Get her to the Dragon Lord’s quarters immediately.”

 

Sooyoung is suddenly in the doorway, her perfectly coiffed hair coming just a little out of its low bun. Her chest is heaving but her face is calm, eyes darting around to find Seulgi.

 

“Jiwoo will lead you to her Lordship’s quarters.”

 

“I am not properly dressed to be seeing a lord,” Seulgi weakly protests, gesturing at her dirty cotton clothes.

 

“There’s no time. She… she probably won’t be lucid enough to even really care about decorum. Which instrument do you want? Attendant Kim and I will carry it personally.”

 

“Grab the haegeum,” Seulgi says, gesturing behind her to the small wooden instrument with its accompanying bow leaning against two silk strings.

 

She spins on her heel and marches with Jiwoo down the hallway and out the door. The two other girls from earlier are waiting, holding matching wooden lanterns.

 

“We will you to her Lordship’s quarters,” says Chaewon. Her upper lip is still a little gray but Seulgi hopes it’s dark enough that the girl doesn’t get another scolding from Yerim.

 

“Lead the way.”

 

They move quickly, the young girls impressively not tripping as they practically glide along the path to the Dragon Lord’s quarters. The gates of courtyard after courtyard are thrown open to match the pace of the swift handmaidens and Seulgi just manages to keep up without pulling her skirts up above her ankles.

 

Finally, at the foot of the marble stairs, they’re met by two figures clad in dark hanbok with swords at their sides. The shorter of the two appears older with a blue sash tied around their waist and ornaments on their belt indicating a higher rank. They gesture for the girls to raise the lanterns and Seulgi blinks in surprise as she realizes that the two guards are both women.

 

“Jungeun, is this her?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Hm. Well alright. Jinsol, take Jiwoo, Hyewon, and Jungeun to the crown princess’ quarters. The kitchens have her midnight snack ready.”

 

Seulgi sees the girls giggle into their sleeves and even the guard, Jinsol, cracks a smile. They bow to Seulgi before scurrying off, their lanterns almost winking at her as they walk away.

 

“Follow me, then,” the woman says simply before turning on her heel and quickly walking up the stairs. With a soft sigh, Seulgi follows, trying to match the pace set by the dark boots in front of her.

 

“I am the head of the Dragon Lord’s guards, Captain Moon Byulyi,” the woman says over her shoulder when they’re nearly at the top of the steps. “I imagine we’ll see plenty of each other for the duration of your stay. I hope we can get along.”

 

“Yes. I do, too.”

 

Byulyi smiles and they finally reach the top of the stairs. The building is even more impressive up close, the golden support beams gleaming in the torchlight. Two guards stationed before the main doors straighten at Byulyi’s presence and she swiftly shows them a pendant made from mother of pearl before stuffing it back into her pocket.

 

“Come along. The sooner you get there, the better.”

 

The two guards lunge forward, pulling open the heavy looking golden doors as Seulgi peers inside. They walk past gardens with pavilions of bronze and jade and an array of impressive buildings with several open windows revealing shelves of books and celadon vases.

 

Finally, at the last gate, Byulyi pauses, her shoulders tensing as if listening to something unpleasant. She glances back at Seulgi, the set of solemn.

 

“You are aware… of the Dragon Lord’s condition?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“And are you aware of why she has such an affliction?”

 

Seulgi pauses at the gentle question. She thinks of the oarsman’s torrid tale and wonders how much of it is true.

 

“Should I know the reason why she cannot sleep?”

 

Byulyi opens when suddenly she sharply looks up and the openness on her face shutters closed.

 

“Attendant Kim. Attendant Park. You’ve brought the instrument in one piece?”

 

Seulgi turns to see the two women almost jogging up behind them.

 

“Yes, yes. We shouldn’t wait any longer. I’m not sure how long the physicians will be able to stave off her Lordship’s mood,” mutters Sooyoung.

 

The three of them wince as if hearing something loud but Seulgi hears nothing but the distant crash of waves against rocks.

 

“Am I introducing her, then?”

 

Sooyoung laughs at the obvious tremble in Byulyi’s voice as she steps forward, leaving Yerim to hold the haegeum with both hands.

 

“It was my idea. I will be the one responsible.” The taller woman squares her shoulders and glances at Seulgi.

 

“What you may see initially may frighten you. But know that the Dragon Lord has a good heart. She has just… her life has been one of duty.”

 

Seulgi frowns, questions on her tongue, but Sooyoung walks ahead, and the guards at the final set of gates push the heavy doors open.

 

The sight before her is… unexpected.

 

At first, Seulgi wonders if she’s seeing a ghost. All the other members of the Dragon Lord’s court wear the latest fashion of Joseon. But the figure standing with her back to Seulgi is in an antiquated style of clothing. A long white robe with golden embroidery on the sleeves and collar. Long hair, instead of being in a normal bun or topknot, tumbles loosely over thin shoulders.

 

Seulgi blinks slowly as she tears her eyes away from the figure to the several attendants and physicians on their knees before her.

 

“My Lord, please, you must try to sleep. It poisons you to go without rest. Your health is at risk!” Seulgi squints at the woman speaking, a physician with a white smock and a distinctive dark curved cap covering the top of her head. Seungwan is kneeling at her side, similarly dressed.

 

“And continue to be plagued by those night terrors? Exhaustion is preferrable to that torture!”

 

“Please, my Lord,” the courtyard echoes. The Dragon Lord sighs, hands tightly clenching and unclenching in frustration.

 

And then the Dragon Lord turns and Seulgi startles. She is unchanged, the same face from the treasured memories of Seulgi’s childhood. There is an undeniable beauty to the purse of her lips and the curve of her jaw. But those features are overwhelmed by the woman’s furious twist of and the golden color of her eyes.

 

Seulgi feels all the words she had planned to say after years of waiting die in .

 

“Who brought a human to my estate?”

 

Seulgi shrinks at the words, harshly growled out with not a shred of recognition. She nervously wrings her hands into the coarse cotton of her pale skirt.

 

“It was me, my Lord.”

 

The Dragon Lord’s eyes stay trained on Seulgi despite Sooyoung’s admission. She breaks eye contact with the other woman to watch Sooyoung sink to her knees in front of the Dragon Lord.

 

“We all worry for your health.”

 

The Dragon Lord’s jaw clenches at the comment and she drops her gaze to look down at her hands, tightly twisting in the silk of her robe.

 

“This human is a renowned musician from the Kingdom of Joseon. She even played at a banquet hosted by the Dragon King.”

 

“And how will this improve my health?”

 

“What better cure for nightmares is there than the sweet sound of the gayageum, my Lord? If you refuse to listen to the physicians, then perhaps this can be a compromise. What does it hurt to listen to a few songs at night to soothe your heart?”

 

The Dragon Lord scoffs, glancing at Seulgi for a moment before shaking her head.

 

“The tonics and the spells seem to prove I am broken beyond repair. Completely unfit to serve as the Dragon Lord of the East Sea or the crown princess’ guardian.”

 

“My Lord, please reconsider!” the courtyard begs. Seulgi is struck by the emotion thick in everyone’s voices from the head physician to the youngest handmaiden. She looks behind her and sees that both Yerim and Byulyi are on their knees as well.

 

“Why didn’t you just let me be alone on that damn mountain? Can’t you just…” The Dragon Lord’s mouth twists and she sighs before raising her head to meet Seulgi’s gaze.

 

“Human. I give you permission to leave this place. You have been brought here on a fool’s errand.”

 

Seulgi swallows as she feels herself captured by the other woman’s gaze. There is something powerful in the way she holds herself with her shoulders back in quiet dignity. But there is unmistakable defeat in the dark circles under her eyes and the line of . It makes Seulgi’s chest ache.

 

“And if I wish to try?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“If I wish to help bring peace to your heart with my songs?”

 

The Dragon Lord scoffs, twisting at the words.

 

“Music cannot chase away the monsters that crowd my bedroom at night, human.”

 

“Does it hurt to try, my Lord?”

 

Seulgi watches as the Dragon Lord reaches up, absentmindedly the edge of the ribbon in her hair. Even from a distance, Seulgi can recognize the frayed silk, once a vibrant plum color now a muted purple. The sight gives her hope as she evenly meets the hard gaze of the imposing woman before her.

 

Finally, the Dragon Lord sighs, dropping her head and letting the fall of her hair create a curtain between herself and the world around her.

 

“One song per night is all I will allow. Byulyi. Help me to bed.”

 

“Yes, my Lord.” Byulyi springs forward and gently grips the underside of one arm as the Dragon Lord is led back to the center building. Seulgi sees all the kneeling people in the courtyard let out a collective sigh of relief. She takes a step forward and looks down at Sooyoung who gives her a grateful smile before rising to brush her knees clean. She steps to the side as Seulgi walks past her, seeing Yerim also hastily get to her feet and gingerly handle the haegeum.

 

“Do you still wish to play this for the Dragon Lord?” Yerim asks quietly as they enter the Dragon Lord’s main quarters.

 

“Yes. I think the haegeum will be the best instrument for tonight.”

 

Seulgi pauses at the threshold of the door, watching the Dragon Lord practically collapse into a chair at a long table.

 

“Do you not wish to rest in your bed, my Lord?”

 

“I wish to just hear your skills this first night. As I look over these.” The Dragon Lord gestures to the stack of scrolls piled up neatly in front of her. Seulgi’s mouth twitches but she tries to firm her resolve. She has had to reason with far more ornery people in her time as a musician.

 

Seulgi simply gestures for her haegeum and without even a floor cushion, sits on the ground. She examines the polished wood of her thin instrument, gripping her bow and gliding it across the silk strings experimentally. As she runs the bow against the strings, she listens for the sound she wants, adjusting the nobs at the top of the haegeum accordingly. Seulgi’s fingers almost tremble as they touch the familiar ridges of the instrument, smoothed by years of dedicated playing. Performing for an audience, even of just one person, makes Seulgi’s heart pound in her ears with a familiar excitement she thought she’d have to give up for the rest of her life.

 

There is a moment of stillness right after she finishes her tuning where the room seems to hold its breath. Can she do this, she vaguely wonders. Is she worthy to be able to play for the Dragon Lord?

 

But then she raises her head and sees the other woman’s familiar golden eyes. The sight fills her with the determination that had gotten her to finally send back her acceptance of the invitation to the Dragon Lord’s estate almost a year late.

 

“Do you know the story of the bi-ikjo, my Lord?

 

The Dragon Lord nods her head as her eyes flick to Seulgi’s fingers nimbly applying pressure to the two strings.

 

“A bird born with one eye and one wing. It can only know the joy of flight with its true mate to make itself whole.”

 

“I would like to play you the story of a certain bi-ikjo with my haegeum. A bi-ikjo yearning for the day when it will become whole.”

 

The Dragon Lord’s says nothing but shadows accentuate the moment when twitches down ever so slightly into a frown.

 

“Very well. Play.”

 

With a dip of her head, Seulgi slides the bow against the strings, feeling herself collapse into the raw emotion of the music. Her left hand deliberately clenches and unclenches to produce an aching wail that fills the room. She looks at the Dragon Lord with half open eyes as she continues to play, aware that she has her attention.

 

Seulgi shifts as she moves the bow sharply against the strings, exhaling as her left hand trembles and the cries of the haegeum continue. That familiar phantom ache throbs in her chest and she can almost see the empty mountainside pavilion from her childhood. Can see a dragon twist in the clouds as it brings about the torrential downpour she had prayed for.

 

“Can you hear it, my Lord? Do you hear the cries of the mateless bi-ikjo?” Seulgi asks in a whisper as the haegeum’s mournful sound continues. The Dragon Lord’s eyes droop as she stares distantly past Seulgi’s shoulder. She leans against the table in front her, pillowing her head against her folded arms.

 

“Yes.”

 

Seulgi’s mouth twitches and she closes her eyes completely, losing herself in the sound as she tries to convey the agony of forever feeling incomplete and alone with the two silk strings and her bow. She draws on the last year of solitude. Of falling to her knees surrounded by broken instruments and not being allowed to cry.

 

And then Seulgi lets the sound change. With an adjustment of her fingers, the haegeum seems to be speaking rather than wailing in agony. She slides the bow against the strings and now the room is filled with the notes of a promise. A promise to wait for a fateful meeting when the bi-ikjo can be whole.

 

She pushes the bow almost agonizingly slow against the strings, drawing out the last mournful note. Seulgi sits in the silence for a moment, trying to still her trembling hands. Getting the composure she needs, she sits back and opens her eyes.

 

She catches Byulyi wiping at her face discretely and Yerim is blatantly dabbing at her cheeks with her sleeve. But the Dragon Lord remains stone-faced, examining Seulgi with narrowed eyes.

 

“Alright,” she murmurs softly. “You may stay.” And with that the Dragon Lord rises from her seat and disappears from Seulgi’s line of sight, her white robes trailing behind her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seulgi yawns into her hand as she sits outside, absently touching the strings of her geomungo with the edge of her suldae. The bamboo pick stirs a soft hum from the instrument that breaks the silence of the courtyard. Shifting her position a little, she stares out at the small garden before her, complete with a decently sized pond and viewing pavilion. Although she normally sits at the pavilion to practice her playing, today she stays instead on the back patio, her socked feet tapping idly beneath her.

 

It has been six days since she has arrived at the Dragon Lord of the East Sea’s castle. During those six days she has been unceremoniously awoken every night and rushed to the Dragon Lord’s residence to play a few songs or until the other woman asks her to stop. Although she always sits at the table, the Dragon Lord never touches the sizable pile of scrolls in front of her. Instead, she favors resting her head on her arm and gazing past Seulgi with half-lidded eyes.

 

Seulgi tries to watch the other woman’s body language, getting a sense of which instruments seem closest to bring her to falling asleep. Despite her efforts of course, nothing seems to work. The best she’d gotten was the Dragon Lord sleepily staring at her from her spot at the table, frustratingly close to closing her eyes.

 

Seulgi picks absently at the strings of her instrument, moving her shoulders as she picks at the string with her right hand and presses against the raised frets with her left. She feels like she’s building a storm with her playing, her frustration bubbling over as she aggressively moves her hands. Even though the sky is completely cloudless, she hears the storming thunder with each assured strike of the suldae and the patter of rain with the onslaught of plucked strings.

 

Madame Han would probably be tapping her back roughly with the wooden staff she’d walked around with like a sword. With the sting of each hit by her music teacher, Seulgi had perfected her posture and performer ready smile despite the ache of her fingers and shoulders.

 

But her old life of a gisaeng has been taken away from her forever. Now all that matters is getting the Dragon Lord to have one peaceful night of rest.

 

Heaving a sigh, Seulgi pushes the geomungo off her knees, carefully resting the instrument against the wooden patio. She glares out at the undisturbed pond as she works her jaw in frustration.

 

“Oh. No one’s usually here.”

 

Seulgi startles from her reverie and glances to her right. Peeking out from behind a wooden support is a young girl. Her dark hair is plaited into a braid that hangs over the shoulder of an ornately colored hanbok with golden dragons. Seulgi’s eyes flit along the embroidery curiously before darting back up to stare at the somber girl’s face.

 

“Hello. It seems we haven’t met. I am a temporary guest at the Dragon Lord’s castle.”

 

“Well, I am a not temporary guest at the Dragon Lord’s castle.”

 

Seulgi smiles at the droll way the girl speaks. It reminds her a little bit of herself when she’d been younger and forced to recite back key tenets of musicality for her training as an ilpae gisaeng.

 

“Well then who are you?”

 

The girl drops her head and bites her lip as she shifts, her grip on the wooden column tightening imperceptibly.

 

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to,” Seulgi acquiesces with a soft smile as she watches relief relax the girl’s shoulders.

 

“What kind of guest are you? The Dragon Lord has not had a guest since I came here,” the girl says from her spot behind the support.

 

“What kind of guest am I?” Seulgi asks thoughtfully. Normally she would be wearing lavish silks that would be easy for even a common child to know her profession. But instead, this girl looks at her with wide-eyed wonder, absent of any of the normal judgement. Seulgi finds she doesn’t quite know how to feel, stripped of an identity she’d been branded with since she’d learned how to walk.

 

“I suppose I am a storyteller.”

 

“What kind of stories do you tell?”

 

“All kinds. I was just telling a story of a rainy day.”

 

Seulgi pulls the geomungo back into her lap and raises her suldae to resume her earlier tune, startling the girl.

 

“Can you hear the sound of the thunder? Or the rain?”

 

The girl steps closer, eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as she sits a little away on the edge of the porch. She swings her short legs and her dark leather slippers gleam in the afternoon light.

 

“I think so.”

 

Seulgi moves her body to press harder against the frets as she strikes her bamboo pick against the strings. She is building the song to its and she cannot help the smile curling as she observes the girl tensing in anticipation.

 

“So this is where you were.”

 

Seulgi startles, her pick missing the strings and awkwardly scraping against the paulownia wood head bridge.

 

Standing at the side entrance to the Guest Residence’s courtyard is the Dragon Lord. It’s a little strange to see the other woman in daylight instead of beside the flickering of a few candles from her spot at the long table. Outside with sunshine making her hair gleam like burnished lacquer, she looks less like a brooding ghost from centuries past.

 

Seulgi pushes the instrument off her lap and moves to stand out of respect. The girl scrambles away from the porch and gives the Dragon Lord a hasty bow.

 

“I leave you to your lessons and you run off instead?”

 

The girl hangs her head, her small hands tightly clenching the sides of her robe.

 

The Dragon Lord sighs and takes a few steps forward until she’s in front of the younger girl. She gently grips her shoulders and leans down to make eye contact.

 

“We were all worried. Usually one of the handmaidens catches you sneaking off.”

 

“They do?” the girl asks indignantly. Seulgi and the Dragon Lord’s eyes meet over the girl’s shoulder and they both almost share a smile.

 

“Or I do. You are very sneaky. Sneakier than I even was.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Hyeju-yah, I thought you were…” the Dragon Lord’s face twitches and Seulgi finds herself fascinated by the brief moment where a conflicted expression breaks the usual deliberate mask. “My most important duty is to protect you and keep you safe.”

 

“I’m sorry,” the child hangs her head in clear remorse and Seulgi watches as the Dragon Lord’s jaw tightly clenches. She drops her hands from Hyeju’s shoulders.

 

“It’s alright. I have been neglectful in teaching you lately. The failings of the student are only the reflections of a poor teacher.”

 

The Dragon Lord straightens, her shoulders pushed back with a composure that makes Seulgi swallow.

 

“To be the crown princess of the Dragon King is a great burden and responsibility. But I promise that I will always be by your side along this path.”

 

Hyeju nods her head, clearly drinking in the Dragon Lord’s every word with eager eyes. Seulgi’s breath catches at the slight curl of the woman’s lips as she carefully fixes an errant curl stuck to the little girl’s temple.

 

And then the Dragon Lord looks back at Seulgi, her face more like that statue with the bloodshot eyes and stony expression.

 

“I apologize for the interruption.”

 

“Not at all, my Lord,” Seulgi demurs, dropping her gaze to the wood of the porch.

 

“I always imagined you would be napping during the day. Not continuing to play through it.”

 

“I need to prepare and practice for the song I play for you during the evening, my Lord.”

 

The Dragon Lord’s jaw clenches at the words, her expression darkening.

 

“There have been many attempts to give me a good night’s rest, human. I wish you wouldn’t work so hard for a hopeless endeavor.”

 

“I don’t believe it is hopeless. I will continue to try my best until your heart can feel peace.”

 

The Dragon Lord lets out a soft chuckle, the corner of just barely curling into a smile. Her gaze shifts to the pond in front of them and then to the pavilion. Seulgi stares at the other woman, her hand above the strings of the geomungo clenching into a tight fist. She wishes she could say one of the things just on the tip of her tongue. Even though I have lost everything I still want to play for you with what I have left. Would you let me play this song I have made for you? But instead, she simply watches the Dragon Lord’s golden eyes gaze out across the pond, the weight of the world seeming to burden such frail shoulders.

 

“Alright.”

 

Seulgi says nothing as the Dragon Lord dips her head politely in her direction before walking out of the garden with Hyeju dutifully trailing behind her. She is helpless to do nothing but simply follow her back with her eyes, her jaw clenched tightly to prevent the words she has saved for years from spilling out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seulgi brushes down a stray curl with a hasty hand as she waits with a yawning Yerim. After the guards rap on the main gate, a tired looking Byulyi pokes her head out. Leading the way to the Dragon Lord’s quarters, Seulgi finds herself rehearsing the of her latest song. It’s a riff off an old call for rain to the Dragon King. Maybe it’ll give the Dragon Lord a sense of nostalgia, Seulgi tiredly wonders as she fights another yawn.

 

Instead of the usual audience in the main room with flickering candlelight and the Dragon Lord primly sitting at her massive work desk, Byulyi leads them further into the building. Past the table and shelves of books. Deeper into a long hallway with a massive set of sliding paper doors at the end. Seulgi’s eyes widen when she sees that the structure of the doors are not made from burnished wood but bronze.

 

Byulyi leans forward to speak against the seam of the doors.

 

“My lord, may we enter?”

 

Seulgi flinches as she hears something very loud shatter on the floor. Byulyi glances over her shoulder and gives her an almost apologetic smile.

 

“My lord?”

 

“Just go back!”

 

Byulyi’s jaw clenches at the words, a hand balling into a fist at her side.

 

“My lord. Please. Let… let her play something for you. We know this night is especially painful for you.”

 

Seulgi frowns but when she glances back at Yerim the other girl pointedly looks away.

 

Suddenly a door is flung open and there is the Dragon Lord of the East Sea. Her usually maintained appearance is in complete disarray with her white robes sloppily tied together and her hair haphazardly pulled back by the usual ribbon. Seulgi wrinkles her nose when she smells alcohol. It reminds her of the years of work at her first gibang, playing for hordes of drunk men with hungry eyes and hands just looking for an excuse to touch.

 

“Come in,” slurs the Dragon Lord, leaning heavily against the frame of the door with an empty smile. Her golden eyes flick over Seulgi in an absent way, staring at the shoulder of her jeogori.

 

“That’s my favorite color,” she says after a long moment before letting the three of them enter. Seulgi glances down at the plum-colored silk and feels her face flush. Her eyes flit just for a moment toward the ragged ribbon pinning back the Dragon Lord’s hair and she tries to not let her eyes linger.

 

The magnificence of the bedroom of the Dragon Lord should be unsurprising to Seulgi considering the estate she has seen so far. But it still makes her pause to see the polished wooden floors stretch out to cover the area of what could easily be a house. Three of the walls of the room are sliding doors open to a breathtaking view of the northern side of the estate. Seulgi’s eyes follow lush gardens that melt into the crags of a dramatic sea cliff. Just faintly she can hear the crash of waves against rock, disrupting the peaceful night.

 

Suddenly the Dragon Lord brushes past Seulgi and she nearly startles, her line of sight jerking from outside to the center of the room. It is spares with only a small table made from gleaming mother of pearl and a broken jar of creamy white celadon.

 

It is then, seeing the broken shards littering the table and the area surrounding it, that Seulgi notices the Dragon Lord’s hand is bleeding.

 

“M-my lord,” she stammers out, pointing a finger at the steady drip of blood.

 

“I’ll get the physicians!” Byulyi states urgently, already turning on her heel before the Dragon Lord stops her with a scoff.

 

“No need. This will heal in a matter of minutes. I was careless in pouring a cup of rice wine for myself. I deserve it.”

 

Byulyi’s shoulders sag and Seulgi thinks that the expression on the other woman’s face is almost sad.

 

“Will you be playing something for me, then? What a privilege to have live entertainment to celebrate today’s anniversary!” The Dragon Lord’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes as she sits at the small table on the floor. She reaches for a small porcelain cup with bloody fingers, arching an eyebrow.

 

“I had intended for a more… formal song to play, my Lord. But perhaps your mood would be better matched with something more lively.”

 

“Me? Lively?” The Dragon Lord throws her head back and laughs, the sound making Seulgi frown. “Play what you wish. I am sure I will enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed all your other songs.”

 

“You enjoy my songs?”

 

“Yes. They remind me of a time before.” The Dragon Lord pillows her head on her arms so her voice comes out muffled by her white silks.

 

Seulgi begins to tune her gayageum as she nods along.

 

“A time before, my Lord?”

 

“Long long ago when the tiger smoked a pipe,” teases the Dragon Lord with a wrinkled nose and sharp teeth. Seulgi’s mouth twitches at the phrase, the usual beginning to an old story.

 

“And what happened during that time when the tiger smoked, my Lord?”

 

“There was a princess. A stupid naïve princess.”

 

“Oh?”

 

The Dragon Lord sighs as she adjusts herself at the table and for a moment Seulgi sees a sharp claw scrape against its surface.

 

“A stupid princess whose duty made her blind.”

 

“Blind to what, my lord?”

 

Seulgi glances up as she finishes her tuning. The Dragon Lord pins her with a heavy gaze, golden eyes unwavering. Seulgi idly wonders if this is what it feels like to be staring into the eyes of a tiger moments before it will pounce.

 

“Blind to what her duty would cost her.”

 

Seulgi’s hands, resting just above the taut strings of her gayageum, clench. The Dragon Lord’s mouth curls into a mirthless smile as she sips from her small porcelain cup.

 

“Do you know the story of why the Dragon King’s beloved daughter became this wretched wraith guarding the East Sea?”

 

Seulgi says nothing at the question, instead letting her fingers pluck out a new tune. It suits the melancholy of this moment, heavy with the darker timber of the lower strings.

 

“Dragons are bound by laws that you humans could never adhere to. To be peaceful. To be righteous. To not kill.”

 

“Those rules do sound impossible for humans, my lord.”

 

“Impossible for me, too. I broke all of them. And for that I was punished. Nine-hundred and ninety-nine years locked away in darkness. A sentence given by the heavenly emperor, Haneulnim, himself.”

 

Seulgi’s eyes flick up to meet the Dragon Lord’s burning gaze. She nearly plucks the wrong string and must readjust her hands.

 

“Byulyi. Yerim. Bring us more wine and food from the kitchens.”

 

“Yes, my lord.”

 

Byulyi dips her head at the request and she disappears with Yerim at her heels. As Seulgi continues her playing, she realizes idly that this is the first time that she and the Dragon Lord are alone together.

 

Wetting her lips, Seulgi clears and tries not to let her nerves get the best of her.

 

“I have always prepared songs to play for you, my Lord. But are there any songs you would like to hear?”

 

The Dragon Lord arches a prim eyebrow at the question, cheek resting against a closed fist. She purses her lips and Seulgi ducks her head to try to hide the blush warming her cheeks.

 

“I never was a deep appreciator of the arts. I enjoyed attending my fair share of banquets and festivals but there never was a particular song or ballad I wanted to hear.”

 

“I miss performing at banquets,” Seulgi murmurs absently as she lets her hands rove over the gayageum’s strings, pulling out a common melody for the harvest festival in the fall.

 

“Well, when you are finished with your fool’s errand I am sure you can return to them. I recall running into you when you performed at my father’s court.”

 

Seulgi’s hands fumble for the first time over the strings and she has to quickly move her other hand to connect the awkward twang into a coherent tune.

 

“I do not think I will ever be able to go back to the way things were before, my Lord.”

 

Seulgi meets the Dragon Lord’s golden eyes and thinks she sees a flicker of shame in them. The moment disappears as she ducks her head, a thick curtain of dark hair covering her face.

 

“Oh? Has this experience been quite so terrible to make you never able to perform for a banquet again?”

 

Seulgi shakes her head but the Dragon Lord seems to be lost in her thoughts, eyes dark and distant.

 

“You asked me the first day I came here if I knew your story. But do you know mine, my Lord?”

 

The Dragon Lord looks up at the question.

 

“You are one of the finest gayageum players in Joseon. The Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong whose beauty is only eclipsed by the melody she plays.”

 

Seulgi blinks slowly at the comment, watching the way the Dragon Lord’s shoulders suddenly hunch.

 

“So I’ve heard,” the Dragon Lord mutters after a long silence.

 

“Perhaps those words used to hold some truth to them. But now I am retired.”

 

“Retired? But you still play so well.”

 

Seulgi sighs as she begins to slow the pace of her playing.

 

“It was not by choice, my Lord. But regardless, most ilpae gisaeng retire around my age anyway. Our careers begin and end as quickly as snow melting in the spring.”

 

“But who would force the Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong to retire?” the Dragon Lord asks softly, meeting Seulgi’s gaze with open curiosity.

 

Seulgi feels her face flush with shame over the question but is startled by the sound of the main door sliding open behind her.

 

“My lord,” Byulyi says simply, ushering in a stream of attendants who bring several tables of steaming dishes and jars of different alcohols. Seulgi presses her lips together and begins to play the original tune for the evening, not quite able to meet the Dragon Lord’s eyes for the rest of the night.

 

The Dragon Lord says nothing in kind, save for a wry comment after listening to the long tune compelling rain from the Dragon King.

 

“There once was I time when I was unable to bring rain from Haneulnim. Can you imagine? A dragon unable to conjure rain.”

 

Seulgi swallows hard and tries to ignore the way her heart pounds loudly in her ears.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Squinting with one eye open, Seulgi lies on her back as she stares up at the clear blue sky. Fluffy clouds are framed by the sweeping eaves of the pavilion, the sight almost as pretty as a painting. She raises a hand to cover the bright sun with a sigh. Her fingers pleasantly ache from the hours of practice for her usual nightly performance for the Dragon Lord.

 

Her eyes flutter closed and she thinks about the months that she had spent holed up in her room in darkness. Staring at the misshapen pieces of her broken instruments that cast shadows like jagged bones. Hearing over and over the words of her half-brother as she had clutched her stinging cheek with tears in her eyes.

 

“My reputation will not be tarnished by a !”

 

Seulgi sighs and drops her hand to her side. With her foot, she touches her gayageum. When she feels its solid shape, the tension in her shoulders lessen.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

She glances over at Hyeju, leaning against the railing of the pavilion with a cocked head. Her solemn eyes scan over Seulgi’s prone form in obvious confusion. The girl had taken to coming nearly every day to listen to Seulgi’s practice. On occasion, a few other handmaidens had come to listen as well. It had been strange to have a captive audience after having resigned herself to never playing for anyone besides herself. But with each passing day of having her audience reward her with encouraging smiles and claps, Seulgi felt her confidence return to her bit by bit like a house being built on top of a ruin.

 

“Practicing.”

 

“But you’re not playing right now.”

 

“I was.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Seulgi squints at Hyeju’s expressionless face for a long moment before sitting up with a small groan.

 

“Did you come to listen to me play today?”

 

Hyeju just shrugs a shoulder and simply glances at the gayageum by Seulgi’s foot.

 

“You talk about as much as the Dragon Lord.”

 

Hyeju seems to preen at the words like they’re a compliment. Seulgi hides a smile.

 

“What is your request for this humble servant, Crown Princess?”

 

She reaches for her gayageum and experimentally plays a few notes before turning back to the girl. But instead of seeing a little girl leaning against the pavilion railing she sees instead a dragon.

 

It’s been many years, Seulgi realizes, since she’s last seen a dragon. Hyeju unsurprisingly resembles Seulgi’s memory from childhood, albeit much smaller. A long snakelike torso of light blue scales with a ruff of thick white fur from the top of her head to the tip of her tail. Large paws, a little too big for her body, hold Hyeju upright as she twitches her nose, an ear flicking.

 

“Do you want to listen like that?” Seulgi asks softly, her voice strangely hoarse. She sits very still as Hyeju moves forward, climbing up the stairs to be by Seulgi’s side. Swallowing, she reaches out a hand and presses her fingers into the thick fur encircling Hyeju’s throat. Seulgi’s eyes well with tears as she thinks of treasured memories. Of a comforting warmth by her side as she had played for hours with childish abandon.

 

Hyeju makes a quiet noise and Seulgi realizes that tears have trickled down her cheeks. She laughs embarrassedly and drops her hand to wipe at her eyes.

 

“Sorry. I just… did you know I met a dragon when I was a girl?”

 

Hyeju tilts her head, nose twitching as she leans forward and rests her head against Seulgi’s upper thigh. The wave of nostalgia that hits her is so great that the tears come again but this time she is ready, easily catching them with the edge of her sleeve.

 

“Many years ago when I was training to be a… when I training to learn how to play the gayageum, I met a dragon on a mountain.”

 

Hyeju twists to look up at Seulgi with curious eyes. She says nothing as she gently the velvet softness of the small dragon’s horns.

 

“I think ever since then I’ve wanted to meet that dragon again,” Seulgi murmurs, thinking of the Dragon Lord sitting across from her in brilliant robes of rich cobalt silks with whitish-pink cherry blossom in her hair like snow. Seulgi wonders if she had imagined the kind smile as the other woman had clapped after her performances. The memories are practically edged with gray, feeling like they were from a lifetime ago.

 

“I’ve always wanted… just once to play a special song for that dragon again. To say…” Seulgi swallows, not quite able to say the words that she has been mulling over every time she sits across from the Dragon Lord and sees not a shred of recognition in the other woman’s eyes.

 

“I just want to say thank you, I think.”

 

She feels Hyeju nuzzle against her stomach and Seulgi laughs, rubbing at her eyes with her inner wrist.

 

“P-princess Hyeju! What are you doing over there?”

 

Seulgi startles at the yell and suddenly she sees Hyeju shoot up in her human form, arms comically pinwheeling to regain her balance. It’s the most undignified she has ever seen the girl but Seulgi manages to hide her laugh in her sleeve.

 

One of the handmaidens assigned to Seulgi, Chaewon, rushes hastily over to the pavilion, her tied hair coming undone from its neat ribbon. She gives a weak bow in Seulgi’s direction before grabbing at Hyeju’s sleeve.

 

“We’ve been looking for you for ages! The Dragon Lord is leaving for her diplomatic mission with the Mountain God of Jinrisan.”

 

“Already?” Hyeju asks drolly, head cocked to the side like a puppy.

 

“Apparently the missive to the wind god to the east wasn’t sent quickly enough to hold back on the storms until next month. The Dragon Lord needs to fly out earlier than expected. Now hurry! She can’t leave without getting the crown princess’ blessing!”

 

Hyeju glances back over at Seulgi who is watching the exchange in confusion.

 

“Are you coming? We have to say goodbye.”

 

Seulgi does not fight the smile on as she nods easily, rising to her feet and stepping off the pavilion’s platform to slip on her shoes. When she turns around, Chaewon is already hustling away with Hyeju easily on her heels.

 

They quickly cross the bridge connecting the pavilion to the garden of Seulgi’s residence, stepping outside and rushing to the main gate of the Dragon Lord’s castle. There aren’t even guards present as Chaewon leads them outside the thick stone wall through a side door clearly used only by the guards.

 

Outside, the roar of the sea, not buffered by thick stone walls, fills Seulgi’s ears and as she inhales, she tastes the sharp tang of salt. She stares out at the massive crowd of people, what she imagines to be the entirety of the Dragon Lord’s court of handmaidens, physicians, guards, and attendants. They stand neatly in lines organized by rank, heads bowed. Before them is the Dragon Lord, hands clasped behind her back with her dark hair tied by her usual ribbon.

 

For once, Seulgi notices, she is not wearing her white robes. Today she wears robes of rich cobalt blue with golden embroidery on her sleeves and collar.

 

“Your Highness,” the Dragon Lord says formally as she bows forward. The entire retinue behind her bows even deeper.

 

Hyeju is slightly startled by the words, seeming to not quite know what to do. After a long silence stretches out, filled with the sound of waves crashing against sand and shoal, the Dragon Lord’s eyes flit toward Seulgi. There seems to be slight concern in them and it is then that Seulgi realizes her face may still be a little red from crying earlier. She raises the back of her hand to press against the curve of her cheek and the Dragon Lord’s frown deepens.

 

“Here is the message to be sent to the Mountain God of Jinrisan, Your Highness,” Chaewon says, pulling a silk scroll from her sleeve and giving it to Hyeju with both hands. The young girl swallows as she stiffly grips the dark blue silk as the Dragon Lord steps forward.

 

“Receive the order,” Hyeju says and the Dragon Lord nods, gracefully, dropping to her knees and bowing prostrate three times. Seulgi cannot help but admire the way the Dragon Lord moves with the practice of someone intimately familiar with the intricacies of such formalities. Finally, when she is finished, she waits on her knees, looking up at Hyeju expectantly with calm golden eyes.

 

“This is the message to be sent to the Mountain God of Jinrisan. The Dragon Lord of the East Sea shall represent the Dragon King and his heir in any diplomatic discussions…” Hyeju falters here, her wooden words of recitation seeming to be forgotten. Seulgi can see Chaewon mouthing the words by her side but her voice must not carry thanks to the roar of the ocean beside them.

 

“The Dragon Lord of the East Sea is grateful to be able to represent the Dragon King and the Crown Princess in any diplomatic discussions regarding tribute and to continue the investigation regarding the missing monks at Baemsagol Valley.”

 

Seulgi smiles slightly at the way Hyeju nods in clear gratitude. She gives the scroll to the Dragon Lord who takes it with both hands and for a brief moment she sees the other woman’s careful face of neutrality flicker to an expression of pride. But the moment disappears in an instant as the Dragon Lord takes the scroll and tucks it into the inner pocket of her robe.

 

“I shall take your order and fulfill Your Highness’ command,” the Dragon Lord murmurs with one last bow. Behind her the entire retinue falls to their knees. Seulgi easily follows their lead as everyone save for the Dragon Lord and Hyeju goes prostrate on the sandy beach.

 

“The Dragon King and his Heir’s command shall be fulfilled,” the beach echoes, rivalling the roar of the ocean.

 

When Seulgi raises her head, she realizes the Dragon Lord is standing before her.

 

“You will finally be able to rest a few nights,” she murmurs quietly, her words barely carrying over the short distance between them. Seulgi ducks her head, aware of how the hem of the Dragon Lord’s blue silk robe brushes the back of her hand like a caress.

 

“I will still practice for your return, my Lord.”

 

“I will miss it. The sound of your playing.”

 

Seulgi jerks her head up in surprise and stares at the strangely transparent look on the Dragon Lord’s face. She can just see the barely there curve of a smile on her lips.

 

“Is this your way of asking for a welcome concert for your return? That would require a great deal of practice in preparation, my Lord,” Seulgi murmurs, unable to hide the teasing petulance from her tone.

 

The words bring an unexpected barking laugh from the Dragon Lord who throws her head back with a smile. Seulgi can see behind the Dragon Lord that Sooyoung’s jaw drops in blatant shock.

 

“No, no. I simply am giving you a compliment. I’ve never met a musician who doesn’t appreciate praise.”

 

“I do appreciate it. More than you can imagine.” Seulgi meets the Dragon Lord’s eyes and she wonders if the other woman knows how greatly her praise has shaped her life. If she knows that it is thanks to her kind words that Seulgi became the Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong.

 

“Well. I must go.”

 

“I wish you safe travels, my Lord. And if you… if you require music to help you during your nights at the Mountain god’s estate, the gayageum seems to soothe you best.”

 

“I shall wait for music played by your hands,” the Dragon Lord says simply as if she has no idea how the words make Seulgi’s face flush with their quiet finality.

 

“Then I will prepare a performance worthy of my lord’s return.”

 

“With some time for rest.”

 

Seulgi simply smiles and the Dragon Lord returns the gesture. This moment between them that stretches under the crash of waves and the tang of salt feels like a return to all those years ago with Seulgi sitting under the rickety eaves of her mountain pavilion with a too big gayageum on her lap and the Dragon Lord sitting across from her with a slow grin as she tapped the stilted rhythm of Seulgi’s playing against her thigh.

 

The Dragon Lord dips her head after a long moment and turns away, Seulgi watching her back as the woman walks to the edge of the waves lapping on the shore. One moment there is the Dragon Lord standing with her slight frame contrasted with the massive expanse of the turquoise ocean. And then in the next moment there is a huge dragon.

 

The sight of her old friend takes Seulgi’s breath away. If there were any doubts of Seulgi perhaps misremembering the Dragon Lord’s human form after years of separation, all she has to do is see the distinctive dragon before her. A long sinuous body covered with white scales that gleam like alabaster with a ruff of deep blue fur along her long spine. Seulgi’s eyes drop to the familiar raised scar along the dragon’s side. She raises her sleeve and delicately dabs at her eyes.

 

It’s her.

 

The Dragon Lord tenses for a moment, coiling her massive body before launching upward, undulating to gain momentum as she flies up into the sky. Quickly, everyone on the beach rises and a few of the guards wave multi-colored flags.

 

“The Dragon Lord has taken flight! May she be blessed with gentle winds and kind rays of sunlight to guide her path!”

 

Seulgi stands slowly, eyes following the Dragon Lord’s disappearing form until she is a speck against the light blue horizon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the twelfth night after the Dragon Lord’s departure, Seulgi looks out at her small audience from her place on the pavilion. In the light of early evening with the setting sun above her, she plays the first delicate notes of her song with the strings of the gayageum. The familiar intoxicating experience of performing before an audience narrows her world into the feeling of the wood of her instrument on her legs and the music guiding her hands.

 

It has been strange not seeing the Dragon Lord every night. There is an almost phantom anxiety in Seulgi’s heart as if she is waiting for the other woman to disappear like last time. But she knows that she will return as she promised the entire court. And maybe when she returns, Seulgi can finally tell her the words she has kept in her heart all these years.

 

Seulgi sighs as she moves her hands to try to get herself out of the sudden wave of melancholia, adjusting her fingers to create a brighter and more lively melody. Her audience sways with the sounds and a few of the younger girls laugh. She feels curl upward into a smile as she looks out vaguely at the horizon when she sees two shapes in the distance. Her hands still on the strings.

 

“Why did you stop?” asks Byulyi, leaning against the pavilion’s supports. She’s the picture of ease with her formal uniform slightly askew as she stands in her usual spot for Seulgi’s evening concert.

 

When Seulgi squints harder, Byulyi frowns and tosses a glance over her shoulder. And curses.

 

The rest of the small crowd follow the woman’s line of sight and let out a collective gasp.

 

“I-is that the Dragon Lord?” asks Jiwoo with her hands over . Seulgi pushes her gayageum off her lap and rises to her feet as she hears shouting from the main gate.

 

“Captain Moon! The Dragon Lord is in danger!”

 

Byulyi snaps out of her revelry and sprints out of the courtyard with a few young guards hot on her heels. Seulgi doesn’t even follow them, instead looking back up at the sky. Even from such a distance she can see the sunset reflecting off the Dragon Lord’s brilliant white scales, a stark contrast to the other snakelike creature colored like onyx. Seulgi finds herself unconsciously walking toward the writhing shapes, trying to discern just what on earth is going-

 

Seulgi falls to her side, almost skidding in the dirt from the impact of a body hurtling itself directly into her. She blinks slowly from the ground as she sees Hyeju in a now dusty white robe. Behind her is an exhausted looking Chaewon, running toward them with tears in the corners of her eyes.

 

“Crown Princess Hyeju, please! It’s not safe.”

 

“I am the only other dragon here. She needs my help.”

 

“That’s an imugi! They’re too dangerous for you to fight. The Dragon Lord has a great deal of experience with them!”

 

Seulgi looks up again at the writhing snakelike creature in the sky. It almost could pass as a dragon she thinks absently but it lacks forearms or forelegs on its completely scaly torso. Its face too strongly resembles a reptile save its ruff of fur surrounding its neck and almost painfully gnarled horns curving from behind its ears.

 

“As Crown Princess I should at least be nearby. To support her.”

 

Chaewon’s face creases but there is a stubborn set to Hyeju’s jaw that leaves little room for argument. It’s then that Heyju turns and looks down at Seulgi, still on the ground.

 

“What are you doing down there, human? Aren’t you coming, too?”

 

Seulgi almost laughs but the looks on both of their faces is so grave that she simply rises, dusts herself off, and follow them. Together they rush toward the stairs leading up to the rampart at the main gate. It’s strange being at the top of the stone wall, between the finery of the Dragon Lord’s estate on one side and the harsh crash of waves against rock and shoal on the other. Staring out into the ocean dyed a deep red from the sunset, she sees a dragon and an imugi wrestle in the air for a long moment before they crash into the water.

 

“What are you doing?” Seulgi hears yelled in frustration. She sees Byulyi with her black hat off and a large bow gripped tightly in one hand. Next to her is a frustrated looking Physician Kim and Seungwan who is wringing her hands with anxious eyes still on the ocean.

 

“Those arrows are dipped in centipede poison. It may immobilize an imugi but if you miss, you could kill the Dragon Lord!”

 

“Is it worse than watching get torn out by an imugi, Physician Kim?”

 

Physician Kim huffs in frustration as everyone continues to watch the sea. At last, the two creatures shoot upward in a burst of water, grappling with claws and teeth. Even from this distance, Seulgi can see a bloody slash along the Dragon Lord’s side and she feels a pang in her chest.

 

“Damnit,” she hears Byulyi mutter as she notches an arrow, tilting her bow ever so slightly as she tries to move with the flow of the fight which has taken to dipping in and out of the water in sudden spurts. There are points where Seulgi isn’t quite sure if the redness of the splashes from the fighting is from the sunset or the blood.

 

And then the Dragon Lord slams the massive black beast toward the beach, its writhing form rolling in a spray of sand and rock. The ground shakes with the force of it and the supports of the wall shudder. Before the imugi can rise from its back, the Dragon Lord has a massive clawed paw against its throat with fangs pulled back in a snarl.

 

The two creatures roar at each other, the pinned imugi’s body writhing in a rage that is felt in Seulgi’s bones. And then suddenly there are two people on the beach.

 

Blinking in confusion, Seulgi realizes that there is an arrow sticking out of the imugi’s back. In human form, the imugi looks like an unremarkable man save for his sharp teeth and blood red eyes. There is a feralness to his movements, too quick and darting, that sharply contrasts to the quiet dignity of the Dragon Lord. Even with her dark hair in wet tangles and her whole side a bloody mess, she still stands with a straight back and a face far too calm for the fight that had just occurred.

 

“Damn you!” the imugi yells in a voice like gravel, bloody spittle dripping from his mouth.

 

“Do you admit to your crimes?” Seulgi barely hears over the crash of the waves.

 

“Eating those monks? What does it matter? I can dream for a thousand years of the promise of being a dragon but it will be wrested from me by some murderous daughter of the Dragon King! So what if eating some humans is how I chose to pass my time?”

 

“If you had a vendetta against me and what I have done then you should have fought me sooner. Instead of eating innocent humans living near Jinrisan.”

 

The imugi scoffs through bloody teeth as he reaches behind him and breaks the arrow protruding from his back in half.

 

“You’re protected. Despite your fall from grace, princess, you still are under the Dragon King’s light. Unlike the nine imugi who were murdered after waiting patiently in the darkness for nearly a thousand years.”

 

“You cannot blame me for your egregious acts, imugi.”

 

The man laughs as he shifts with difficulty to sit up on his knees. He simply gestures toward the rampart where most of the Dragon Lord’s court is gathered.

 

“So, what will it be then, princess? Will you kill another imugi with your own hands? Or should I give you a taste of what it feels like to lose the people most precious to you?”

 

The words seem to have an effect on the Dragon Lord who looks towards the main gate with a gaze that makes Seulgi’s throat constrict. She looks almost lost as her eyes flit over the group. When their eyes meet, Seulgi almost opens as if whatever she says could stop the pain just barely in the tight lines on the other woman’s face.

 

It is in that moment of distraction that the imugi lunges forward, pushing the Dragon Lord into the sand with a ferocious yell.

 

“Stop!” yells Byulyi, notching another arrow and firing it successfully between the man’s shoulder blades. But still he presses onward, trying to pummel the Dragon Lord with his massive fists. The other woman grabs at his wrists and maneuvers to flip him on his side, clutching his throat with a snarl.

 

Seulgi watches from her spot high up on the wall as the Dragon Lord chokes the imugi with both hands, throttling him despite the concerned cries of the court in the rampart.

 

“My lord, please, you mustn’t!”

 

“My lord, you cannot be punished again!”

 

But still the Dragon Lord continues with sharp teeth bared, even as the imugi raises a flailing hand to weakly push against the smaller woman’s shoulder. He mouths something that is lost to the ocean’s waves and it only seems to make her tighten her grip, her hold becoming more violent with murderous intent. Vaguely, Seulgi hears Byulyi shouting at guards to go down and stop her but she sees the imugi stop twitching.

 

Despite the crash of bloody waves against the shoal and rock, it feels strangely silent.

 

Until a stream of people rush out of the main gate to the beach with spears and swords and torches. The Dragon Lord slips off the imugi’s still body, silently watching as Physician Kim falls to her knees before the crowd and presses trembling fingers against the still body’s neck.

 

“He’s alive!” she shouts and sheer relief spreads on everyone’s faces but the Dragon Lord’s. Guards swarm around the imugi to bind his arms and legs with black chains and slap sheafs of yellow paper with blood red ink on his forehead, chest, and stomach.

 

“She didn’t kill him,” Byulyi mutters softly, finally lowering her bow arm. Seulgi’s eyes slip from her inscrutable expression to Hyeju who watches silently with clear shock on her face.

 

“Crown princess, shall we go back to your residence?” timidly asks Chaewon, her eyes darting over the reticent girl’s face.

 

“Yes,” she murmurs quietly, sliding past Seulgi and walking down the rampart with Chaewon, Jiwoo, and her favorite guard, Sooyoung, on her heels.

 

“Dragons are not supposed to understand the desire to kill like human do,” Byulyi comments quietly as Seulgi continues to watch Hyeju’s small back, shoulders slumped in what can only be disappointment.

 

“We… the court of the Dragon Lord understands that what she has gone through makes her different than other dragons. But someone like the crown princess could never fathom the things the Dragon Lord has seen and done.”

 

Seulgi says nothing as she watches the Dragon Lord sitting on the sand and staring blankly at nothing as Physician Kim and Seungwan try to get her to stand.

 

“Is it true that she murdered imugi before they were able to become full dragons?”

 

Byulyi sighs.

 

“That story should come from the Dragon Lord. Not from me.”

 

“I doubt the Dragon Lord would share such a thing with me.”

 

“Really?” There is almost a teasing lilt to the other woman’s tone that has Seulgi turn toward her in surprise. Byulyi’s smile is slight but it still makes Seulgi’s cheeks warm.

 

“I apologize, I spoke out of turn. I do think, however, that the Dragon Lord may surprise you with what she would share with you if you asked.”

 

Seulgi clenches her jaw as she looks away from Byulyi, just catching the sight of the Dragon Lord’s bloody robes as she enters the main gate of her castle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seulgi doesn’t normally drink. Growing up around gibangs and seeing drunk people stumbling around had not exactly endeared her to the very thing that made them sloppy messes. But on nights like this, with the moon bright and full like a ripe peach and her gayageum practically calling to her, Seulgi indulges herself. It almost makes her laugh when her request for something to drink gets fulfilled with a small retinue of handmaidens, each holding a lacquered table with treats. She gets her rice liquor in a carefully crafted celadon jar accompanied with side dishes, a porcelain cup, and steaming tea.

 

“Thank you,” Seulgi says with a smile as the handmaidens line up their three tables neatly next to the railing of the pavilion. “I’ll be out here for awhile. You can go back inside.”

 

The three girls give deep bows and then scurry off, across the bridge and into Seulgi’s temporary residence. She watches their silhouettes go with a strange sense of melancholy, half tempted to call them back so that she does not have to drink alone. Instead, with a sigh, she reaches for the jar and pours herself a cup. Seulgi gulps down the drink in a few swallows before reaching for a piece of powdery rice cake to balance the bitterness.

 

Flicking crumbs from her fingers, Seulgi reaches for her gayageum and drags the heavy wooden instrument into her lap. She runs her hand along the worn wood with a satisfied sigh before beginning the process of tuning. There is something almost dreamy about the way it feels to play the gayageum with only the light of the moon in the sky reflected in the pond surrounding her pavilion. When she had been working as the Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong at one of the largest gibangs in the capital city, she could never quite feel the peaceful stillness that she can finally pull out of her instrument at the Dragon Lord’s estate. Seulgi lets her eyes flutter closed as she lets her practiced tuning flow into a song that suits the loneliness of a bright moon on a dark night.

 

She almost scoffs when she realizes her eyelashes are wet as she opens her eyes from her reverie. Seulgi brushes at her eyes with the back of her hand as she turns to reach for her jar of liquor again. It is then that she realizes there is another person leaning against the steps to the pavilion, watching her.

 

It has been a few days since Seulgi last saw the Dragon Lord on the beach. When she had asked about playing for her during breakfast, all three handmaidens had awkwardly ducked their heads and avoided answering the question. Only Sooyoung had given her the straightforward comment that the Dragon Lord was in and out of consciousness due to a mixture of tonics and treatments by her physicians.

 

Seulgi swallows as she lets her eyes flick up and down the Dragon Lord’s slight figure, draped by her usual long white robe with golden embroidered sleeves. Her dark hair is completely down, not held back by the usual ribbon or headband. There is something almost wild in the way she stares at Seulgi, her golden eyes darting around to take in the sight of Seulgi’s tables of food and jar of rice liquor.

 

“Do you wish to be alone?” the Dragon Lord asks quietly, meeting Seulgi’s curious gaze.

 

She mulls over the words, not quite managing to look away as the other woman simply stares right back.

 

“No, my Lord. Please sit.”

 

Seulgi shifts her gayageum carefully off her lap and rises to stand as the Dragon Lord slips off her shoes and walks with socked feet on the polished wooden floor. She sits down across from Seulgi with her elbows on her knees, waiting for Seulgi to sit again.

 

“Shall I pour you a drink?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Seulgi watches as the Dragon Lord reaches for Seulgi’s used cup and expectantly looks at her.

 

“My Lord, I already-”

 

“I do not mind,” she says simply.

 

Seulgi swallows but complies, grabbing the neck of the jar and trying her best to muster all her grace from her training as a courtesan to pour a cup. She watches as the Dragon Lord swallows her drink quickly, squeezing her eyes shut and crinkling her brow.

 

“Here. Now I’ll pour you a drink.”

 

“Oh, my Lord, there’s no need to-”

 

“Please. I insist.”

 

Seulgi swallows her protestations and mutely watches as the Dragon Lord holds out her hand for Seulgi to give her the jar. When she gives it to her with both hands, her face flushes when their fingers brush.

 

“Here. Receive a drink from me, Paulownia Blossom from Hanseong. I have been quite the terrible host to not have entertained you even once during your stay so far.”

 

“Not at all, my Lord,” Seulgi murmurs softly. She watches in quiet fascination as the Dragon Lord reaches forward to hand her the porcelain cup that has been shared between them. Seulgi pauses and stares down at the white ceramic, running a thumb along the lip of the smooth surface right where she knows the Dragon Lord’s mouth has been.

 

“How can I dare to take a drink from the same cup as you?”

 

The Dragon Lord hums at the question, glancing down at her grip on the jar’s neck.

 

“Don’t you humans believe that sharing drinks is a way to make you feel closer?”

 

“Closer, my Lord?”

 

The Dragon Lord smiles.

 

“I would like to share a drink with you on this moonlit night. Would that be alright with you?”

 

Seulgi swallows as she looks at the other woman, her thoughts cloyed by the simultaneous frustration and awe at being able to be so close to her after all this time.

 

Instead of answering, she leans forward with both hands and lets the Dragon Lord pour her a cup. She swallows the drink quickly, politely turning her head away and looking at the moon reflected in the pond’s dark waters.

 

“Is there a name I can call you by besides the Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong?”

 

Seulgi looks over curiously as the Dragon Lord grabs a piece of rice cake. She watches crumbs flutter down into the other woman’s lap.

 

“Shouldn’t names be something that are given, my Lord?”

 

“Not asked for?”

 

Seulig’s eyes catch the way the Dragon Lord shifts, favoring the side that hadn’t gotten clawed through by the imugi, to recline backwards. Propped up on an elbow with her other hand reaching for another rice cake, she has the lazy air of an entitled yangban’s child.

 

“If you insist, I can tell you my true name. Not my stage name.”

 

“Mm. I’d prefer you give me your name. When you want to.”

 

Seulgi meets the Dragon Lord’s golden eyes, and she can’t help but swallow.

 

“May I have another cup, my Lord?”

 

The other woman laughs and shifts to pour for Seulgi again. She swallows quickly, ignoring the burn in , and sets her cup down against the lacquered wood of the small table to her side.

 

“You mentioned before you left how you would miss my playing. Yet you have not asked for me since you’ve returned.”

 

“I did not think you would want to see me.”

 

“Why would you ever think that I would not want to see you?” Seulgi chokes out, unable to quite suppress the disbelief in her voice. She catches the furrow of the Dragon Lord’s brow and internally curses herself for being unable to control her emotions better.

 

“You saw two monsters fight. I’d imagine you’d be frightened.”

 

“Monsters?”

 

Their eyes meet and all Seulgi can hear is the muffled crash of waves buffered by the thick stone of the Dragon Lord’s castle walls. After a long moment she shifts to her knees and crosses the short distance between her and the Dragon Lord, porcelain cup still in hand. When she pauses in front of the other woman, resting on her ankles with a hand extended with the used cup, she half expects a rejection. Seulgi knows that somewhere Madame Han is pulling her hair out at how undignified Seulgi is being, the antithesis of the ethereal allure of a high class gisaeng. But when she receives the Dragon Lord’s slightly disbelieving laugh as the cup is gently pulled from her fingers, she thinks perhaps that Madame Han would understand.

 

“How did you know I wanted a drink?”

 

“Lucky guess?” Seulgi says, smiling as she reaches for the nearly half empty jar. She overreaches and it’s only the Dragon Lord’s warm hand that holds her wrist steady, preventing her from knocking over any precious plates of snacks.

 

“Careful.”

 

Seulgi swallows as she realizes how close the two of them are and for one fantastical moment she imagines leaning forward and pressing her face against the soft looking collar of the Dragon Lord’s robes.

 

“Here,” the Dragon Lord murmurs, as she pushes the jar’s neck into Seulgi’s hand. “Do you want me to help you?”

 

Seulgi finds herself nodding as the Dragon Lord wraps her hand around Seulgi’s and together they pour a drink. She finds herself wishing the cup were larger so that she could feel the other woman’s warmth on her hand for longer than just a few seconds.

 

“Is the Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong drunk?”

 

Seulgi looks up at the slightly teasing tone at the edge of the Dragon Lord’s voice, relishing the way it sounds curling in her ears.

 

“Perhaps, my Lord?”

 

They look at each other for a long moment and Seulgi vaguely realizes that the other woman’s thumb is brushing against the inside of her wrist.

 

“You look different with your hair down.”

 

Seulgi blinks in surprise at the comment. She’d been in the middle of combing her long hair out of its usual updo when she’d gotten the sudden craving for having a drink. She pulls away from the Dragon’s Lord’s grip and self-consciously touches her hair.

 

“I was careless about my appearance. I didn’t expect any company. I apologize for looking so unkempt before you, my Lord.”

 

“I… It’s fine. It was my fault for interrupting your time alone.”

 

Seulgi watches the way the Dragon Lord’s clenched jaw jumps as she grinds her teeth. She wonders what she must be thinking about that displeases her so.

 

“Shall I play something for you, my Lord?”

 

“Even now you will try to get me to fall asleep?”

 

“I am capable of playing things besides lullabies,” grumbles Seulgi as she stands to return to her spot with her gayageum. A safer distance away from the Dragon Lord seems to help her heart pounding in her ears.

 

“Oh?” the Dragon Lord asks with smiling eyes as she sips at her drink. Seulgi self-consciously tucks hair behind her ears before she plucks at her gayageum with steady fingers. With a flourish, she aggressively plays a lively tune involving the nimble movements of hands up and down the center of her instrument. She peeks up every so often at the Dragon Lord who is watching her, smile not quite hidden by the cup she brings up to her lips.

 

“You asked me,” the Dragon Lord murmurs when there is a lull in the intensity of Seulgi’s playing, “if I knew your story.”

 

Seulgi hesitates a little longer than she should as her hands slow on the gayageum, drawing out each note with the steadiness of a boat rocking in the ocean.

 

“I may not know it. But if you would be willing to tell your story, I would like to listen.”

 

“You wish to hear the story of a lowly gisaeng, my Lord?”

 

“I do want to hear your story. Would you tell it to me?”

 

Seulgi hums as she begins to build the sound from her gayageum, the notes coming out a little more tense than she would like.

 

“Gisaeng are born as slaves. Even though my father was a yangban from a noble family with a long lineage of scholars at the capital, my mother’s status as a gisaeng chose my fate.”

 

The Dragon Lord watches Seulgi, her golden eyes unwavering.

 

“I began training to become an ilpae gisaeng right as soon as I learned to walk. My teachers saw potential in me and I was sent to the elite school at Pyeongyang to learn how to play instruments. I eventually specialized in the gayageum. And then I was sent to Hanseong and received my stage name.”

 

“The Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Your mother must be worried about you. You’ve been at my court for awhile now.”

 

“My mother and father are both dead, my Lord.”

 

The Dragon Lord blinks slowly at the blunt tone.

 

“Oh?”

 

“My mother died when I was young. My father died recently but of course I wasn’t allowed to attend the funeral.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Why would the family of an esteemed nobleman want to be in the company of a gisaeng?”

 

Seulgi adjusts her hands and starts to tinker with a slower tune with more vibrato.

 

“I met my father only three times in my whole life. And my half brother only once. After those meetings I can assure you that me attending my father’s funeral would have been an… unpleasant experience for everyone. Including myself.”

 

“You must have been surprised when you heard of your father’s passing.”

 

Seulgi thinks of the moment she’d learned the news in her wing of the gibang. She’d made a name of herself in Hanseong and the payments for her performances paid lavishly. The news had come from a handmaiden, clutching a bamboo scroll with trembling fingers. Seulgi had barely managed to read the lines of elegantly written hanja before dropping the strips of wood to the floor.

 

“I suppose so. But meeting his son was far more shocking. He was… the one who made me retire.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“He…” Seulgi her lips as she tries to control the swell of confusing feelings that well to the surface whenever she thinks of her half-brother. “He was sitting for the civil service exam when it spread that he had a sister who was a gisaeng. Apparently he felt so much shame over the incident that he left and didn’t even sit for the full exam.”

 

“So, he punished you for that? By ending your career?”

 

“It wasn’t my career, my Lord. Being an ilpae gisaeng and playing the gayageum was… is my life. I still don’t know what I am without a performance to work towards or a song to play.”

 

Seulgi stops her playing, watching as the Dragon Lord looks out past Seulgi and at the night sky.

 

“Your story is yours alone. But I can assure you, as someone who has also lost the identity I had been given since birth, that we exist as more than just those pieces of ourselves. So I…” The Dragon Lord’s jaw clenches as she seems to carefully think over her words before she meets Seulgi’s eyes. “I understand you. And I am sorry for the pain that you have felt because of your loss.”

 

Seulgi feels her eyes well with tears at the gentle words but she can’t quite find it in herself to wipe them away. She knows it is weakness but perhaps it’s the nostalgia of her childhood when the Dragon Lord had so kindly spoke to her then as well that makes her want to remain still in this strange moment of both past and present.

 

“Thank you,” she says thickly, feeling her tears trickle down her cheeks. The sight makes the Dragon Lord avert her gaze out of politeness and she looks down at her cup until Seulgi can wipe at her face with her sleeve and collect herself.

 

“I am grateful that such a talented musician has given me the honor of staying at my court,” the Dragon Lord says with her eyes still trained on her own hands.

 

The words make Seulgi’s eyes feel wet again. It’s because of you, she desperately thinks to herself. I’ve gotten as far as I have because of you. How she wishes she could say the words just on the tip of her tongue. But instead she holds back. The timing does not quite feel right to share her entire story with the Dragon Lord.

 

“And I am grateful to be able to play at your court, my Lord.”

 

The Dragon Lord’s mouth twitches and she places her cup off to the side.

 

“Would you play me one more song then, before I return back to my residence?”

 

Seulgi simply nods as she returns her hands back to her gayageum’s strings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The fall leaves paint the pond with vibrant splashes of orange and red as Seulgi stares out contemplatively over the still water. Her gayageum remains untouched as she presses her face against her arms folded over the railing of the pavilion. The fatigue of the past few nights of the Dragon Lord’s poor sleep washes over her and she barely stifles a sigh. She really should be practicing for tonight’s performance. Her gayageum is behind her, still wrapped in thick silk for the duration of her time outside.

 

“Are you sleeping?”

 

“No,” Seulgi mumbles into her arms, not bothering to turn around and do her usual courteous bow.

 

“Then why aren’t you playing?”

 

“I am capable of doing more than just sleeping and playing the gayageum, Your Highness.”

 

Seulgi glances over her shoulder to see Hyeju in a dark blue robe, her hair tied back with a scarlet-colored headband. Her place as crown princess is undeniable wearing such finery. Seulgi absently wonders if perhaps a thousand years ago the Dragon Lord had worn the same thing. Would her eyes have looked less sad back then? Filled more with the haughtiness befitting her birthright?

 

“Has the Dragon Lord been sleeping well?”

 

“Not particularly,” Seulgi says carefully, now fully watching the other girl sitting on the stairs next to her. There is something pensive about the way she stares out at the pond.

 

“I go to give my morning greeting to her every day. She usually tries to act a little more for me. But these days she’s a little… less.”

 

Seulgi nods along.

 

“Ever since she returned we don’t talk very much. She has Captain Moon and Attendant Park give the daily lessons now. Whenever I see her in the morning, she just tells me to eat breakfast and then she leaves.”

 

Hyeju’s mouth tightens at her quiet words, hands clenching the give of her loose robes at the knee. Seulgi watches the other girl silently.

 

“The Dragon Lord is my aunt, you know. And besides the Dragon King and Queen… she’s the only person I have left.”

 

“What about your parents?” Seulgi asks, unable to hold in her curiosity.

 

“They were killed,” Hyeju replies, as if reciting from one of her books. “A group of imugi murdered them in a plot against the Dragon Lord.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I don’t remember it. I hadn’t hatched yet,” Hyeju says casually as Seulgi blinks at the strange phrase.

 

“Oh. Is that why…?”

 

“What?”

 

Seulgi holds her tongue, mulling over how to slot the final pieces of the puzzle of the Dragon Lord together. But before she can ask her question, she sees the Dragon Lord standing on the other side of the bridge to the pavilion with her line of attendants standing obediently behind her.

 

“Are you supposed to be in your lessons right now?” Seulgi asks in soft exasperation as she watches the Dragon Lord’s jaw clench tightly as she stands with her arms behind her back.

 

“Maybe.”

 

Seulgi sighs as she shakily rises to her feet, meeting the Dragon Lord’s gaze from across the pond.

 

“My Lord,” Seulgi calls out as she moves around Hyeju to slip on her shoes and begin to walk towards the bridge.

 

The Dragon Lord simply dips her head in acknowledgement, her eyes resting on Hyeju who still sits sullenly on the steps of the pavilion, refusing to move a muscle.

 

Seulgi hesitates on the bridge, casting a glance back at Hyeju. When she turns back, the Dragon Lord is looking at her. Her arms drop to rest at her sides as she opens as if to say something. They stand for a moment, separated by the stretch of burnished wood and a pond littered with yellowed gingko leaves.

 

“Have you come to enjoy the fall foliage?” Seulgi asks lightly as she watches the Dragon Lord begin to walk towards her. The other woman’s mouth twitches at the question but no answer comes until she stands before Seulgi, her line of attendants and guards standing a respectful distance behind.

 

Instead of replying, she simply reaches up and pulls a stray gingko leaf from Seulgi’s hair with gentle fingers. Seulgi stills at how close the other woman is, her golden eyes flicking down for a moment before the Dragon Lord collects herself and steps back.

 

“It seems you have been enjoying the fall foliage a great deal,” the Dragon Lord observes quietly. Although her voice is less resigned than it had been the previous night, there is a fatigue there that makes Seulgi wish she could grip the Dragon Lord’s hand and apologize.

 

“I find inspiration from it.”

 

The Dragon Lord smiles at that, her eyes drifting to look behind Seulgi.

 

“I used to view the fall foliage with my father and sister. Before.”

 

Seulgi tries to control her expression at the quiet confession.

 

“He’d compose poems for hours and I would sit by his side as mountain nymphs played music for him. My sister never could sit still for very long without falling asleep. My legs would hurt from where she’d rest her head in my lap.”

 

“My mother and I visited a mountain once and played together when the foliage was at its height. It was one of the few times we were able to do something like that.”

 

“What beautiful music you two must have created,” the Dragon Lord says softly, eyes drifting back to meet Seulgi’s gaze. They share a complicated smile before the other woman looks over Seulgi’s shoulder.

 

“Stay here,” the Dragon Lord instructs not only Seulgi but the entire retinue. She does not move as the Dragon Lord walks past her with quick determined steps. Seulgi cannot help but stare at the place where the other woman had once been. When she glances up, she meets Captain Moon’s sober gaze.

 

“You have lessons until lunchtime. Why have you left them earlier than your usual dismissal?”

 

There is no response.

 

Seulgi chances a glance over her shoulder and sees the Dragons Lord’s tense back and Hyeju’s face pulled into a petulant pout.

 

“Well, you have my attention now. What is the meaning of this?”

 

Hyeju says nothing, bowing her head while tightly gripping her knees to her chest.

 

“Hyeju-yah.”

 

“You avoid me now. You’ve been avoiding me since you came back.”

 

Seulgi looks away and sees the line of attendants all staring at their feet with an array of frowns and clenched jaws. Captain Moon rubs at her forehead with a sigh.

 

“I told her that avoiding her would make things worse,” she mutters with exasperation.

 

“Hyeju.” The Dragon Lord’s voice sounds pained.

 

“Do you plan to leave me all alone, too?”

 

Seulgi presses her lips tightly together, resisting the urge to look back. But she can imagine the Dragon Lord’s back tensing, hands balling up into tight fists as she glances off to the side to control her face.

 

“This sort of thing should not be talked about with so many ears listening.”

 

“Is that what matters?”

 

“You are the Crown Princess. The heir to the Dragon King and his kingdom. How you feel is insignificant in comparison to maintaining the dignity of your position.”

 

Seulgi hears a muffled whimper and winces at what must be the sound of Hyeju crying.

 

“Where is the Crown Princess’ retinue?” calls out the Dragon Lord in a voice like ice. Immediately Sooyoung raises her head.

 

“They are waiting just outside the gates, my Lord.”

 

“Have them the Crown Princess to her residence.”

 

“Yes, my Lord.”

 

Seulgi watches Sooyoung call out and immediately a smaller line of maids and guards practically fall through the wooden gate. She almost feels wind whip her face as the group hastily walks past her, down the bridge to Hyeju. Seulgi does not let herself turn around still. Closing her eyes, she tries not to hear the gentle cajoling of Chaewon convincing Hyeju to leave with her. It is only when she hears the sound of feet against wood that Seulgi opens her eyes to catch a glimpse of a red eyed Hyeju with her line of attendants dutifully following behind her.

 

When Seulgi glances over her shoulder, she can see the Dragon Lord’s eyes watching Hyeju’s back with such a pitiful expression that Seulgi almost looks away. But then the look on her face flickers away, leaving nothing but the usual blank veneer.

 

“I request a song from the Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong. Everyone else may leave.”

 

Seulgi’s eyes widen in surprise before she turns her head, glancing down at the pond water filled with barely moving gingko leaves.

 

“Yes, my Lord.”

 

Seulgi moves down the bridge, lifting her dark skirts slightly as she takes off her shoes and walks up the pavilion steps. The Dragon Lord sits down without a cushion, her back resting against the wooden railing.

 

“What song would you like to hear, my Lord?”

 

“Something that will distract me from myself.”

 

Seulgi glances up at the candidness of the softly spoken sentence, meeting the Dragon Lord’s dark eyes.

 

“My lord.”

 

“Your songs have become a comfort to me as of late,” the other woman confesses softly, eyes drifting to watch her retinue of attendants, guards, and physicians exit out the main gate of the garden. Only Captain Moon remains behind, facing away with her sword clasped behind her on the other side of the bridge. Seulgi watches over her shoulder as the woman waves a hand over her wide brimmed black hat to brush away a few stray leaves.

 

“I am glad that I can give you comfort, my Lord.” Seulgi tries to temper the emotion in her voice, thinking of a time before bathed in spring sunlight and the Dragon Lord gently smiling along to her childish tinkering.

 

“The crown princess was right. I have been avoiding her.”

 

Seulgi looks up in surprise as the Dragon Lord meets her eyes with a steady gaze.

 

“I saw the way she looked at me when I was fighting that imugi on the beach. I… I worry that I will disappoint her again.”

 

“My lord.”

 

“Pathetic isn’t it? I am the Dragon Lord of the East Sea and yet I am afraid of something as silly as the feelings of a little girl.”

 

“If I may, my Lord. I believe that the crown princess seems to be more concerned about losing her relationship with… with an aunt she deeply cares for rather than whatever complicated feelings may have arisen from what she saw on the beach that day.”

 

The Dragon Lord studies Seulgi with narrowed eyes, her jaw tight as her face seems to just barely conceal her heart.

 

“Is that so?”

 

Seulgi dips her head. Her hands feel empty without her gayageum but she thinks that the Dragon Lord would prefer her words more than the sounds of her instrument for once.

 

“She always would cling to me when she was little. And I would indulge her because she truly had no one else in this world but me. Perhaps I feel the same about her.”

 

“Do you feel alone, my Lord?” Seulgi whispers, her eyes wet with the ache in her chest at the Dragon Lord’s soft words.

 

“I… I have always understood my duty. When I was a crown princess it was to serve the Dragon King and prepare myself to succeed him. When I was stripped of my title, it was to stay in that wretched box for the entire nine hundred and ninety nine years of my punishment. And now it is to train Hyeju to not make the same mistakes that I did. All these things have been done alone, I suppose.”

 

Seulgi cannot contain her tears any longer and she looks away as she raises the hem of her sleeve to press against her eyes. When she looks up, she is startled to see the Dragon Lord close, a hand outstretched. Seulgi stills when she feels a warm thumb brush along the swell of her cheek and collect the last of her tears.

 

“Does my loneliness make me seem so pitiful?”

 

“No, my Lord. I think it makes you seem very brave.”

 

“My duty has always been to be alone. I do not know if following my predetermined fate can be considered brave.”

 

Seulgi mutely shakes her head, brushing the side of her face against the Dragon Lord’s still lingering hand.

 

“I have always thought you were very brave. You chose to fulfill your duty. Regardless of the circumstances. And I think the crown princess thinks similarly.”

 

The Dragon Lord’s eyes narrow and she leans forward just slightly, cupping Seulgi’s face with her warm palm.

 

“For some strange reason I believe you. Even if your words are just flowery praise.”

 

“I would never lie to you, my Lord. Especially about how much I admire you.”

 

“I see.”

 

Seulgi’s shoulders ache from how tensely she is holding herself back from doing something reckless like leaning forward to meet the Dragon Lord’s face with her own.

 

“My lord,” she practically breathes against the other woman’s mouth. It is only then that the Dragon Lord seems to break from her spell, shifting back until she is sitting on her heels. Although her robe brushes Seulgi’s skirts, they are no longer truly touching.

 

Seulgi doesn’t quite know if she is disappointed or relieved.

 

“I think I will go and talk to the crown princess.”

 

Seulgi hides her smile as she looks down at the contrast of her black skirt with the Dragon Lord’s pale robes.

 

“I hope it is a fruitful conversation, my Lord.”

 

“Thanks to you, it just may be.”

 

Seulgi does not let her smile drop until the other woman walks past her shoulder, their bodies almost brushing. She swallows, bowing her head as she hears her slip on her shoes and begin to walk towards the bridge. In a moment of weakness, Seulgi looks over her shoulder and her heart pounds in her ears as the Dragon Lord pauses and looks right back.

 

Seulgi is not called to the Dragon Lord’s chambers later that evening. She finds out the next morning that the other woman managed to sleep through the night without waking up once.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sooyoung looks at Seulgi through the burnished surface of her mirror.

 

“They are ready to receive you.”

 

“Alright,” she murmurs, putting the finishing touches on the deep red shade she paints on . It’s strange to wear the full regalia of a gisaeng again. Although she does perform for the Dragon Lord in her nicer hanboks and never is quite as dirty and bedraggled as the first time they met at her castle, she never felt the need to put on the elaborate costume of the Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong. In front of the Dragon Lord, Seulgi knows she can never truly hide the entirety of her true self behind layers of silk.

 

But today comes the closest. Clad in a black skirt cinched slightly at her hips to accentuate the shape of her legs beneath a steel grey petticoat, Seulgi fixes the tie of her white jeogori embroidered with dark flowers along her shoulders. She adjusts her hair, twisted into an ornate updo adorned with golden pins and jade brooches, and knows that the person looking back at her has been dead for nearly a year. She rises from her seat on the floor, earning even an arched eyebrow from the usually composed attendant.

 

“You certainly will be a distraction for the emissary from the Dragon King,” Sooyoung mutters drily as she follows after Seulgi. She pauses at the entryway of her room, hesitating for a moment before reaching for a fan on a side table. She grips the cherry wood tightly as she exits the room with a hard swallow.

 

When she walks into the long hallway, almost twitches as she observes her three usual handmaidens gazing at her with a mixture of shock and awe. Normally, Seulgi would awkwardly laugh before gesturing for them to lead the way. But in this instance, she walks ahead with a smirk, moving with a slight shift of her hips just as she was taught.

 

“As soon as you walk into the room, you are the center of everyone’s attention,” Madame Han had instructed with a stern rap of her stick. “Everyone’s eyes must be on you without a single word on your part.”

 

Seulgi is led by Sooyoung to the main entrance of the banquet hall, eyes flicking over the people waiting outside. Handmaidens and attendants stand in two neat lines before the heavy doors, heads bowed and hands clasped in front of their chests in polite waiting. She snaps open her fan just as she comes into view, hiding her face.

 

Seulgi and her small party of attendants are stopped by Byulyi who raises a hand. She looks handsome in her Captain’s uniform of deep blue, her jade pendants of merit hanging from a sash at her waist.

 

“My lord, the Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong has arrived,” Byulyi says in a commanding voice, her voice carrying through the door.

 

“She may enter.”

 

Seulgi lowers her fan slightly as two guards push open the heavy doors, revealing the inner banket hall. Since Seulgi formally came of age as an ilpae gisaeng, she had served in a variety of banquet halls for a vast assortment of people. Some were just commoners requesting a musician to accompany an expensive celebration on a dusty platform for several hours. Others were wealthy scholar officials with pipes filled with pungent tobacco, reciting the Analects back and forth while Seulgi sat behind a thin gossamer curtain. Every instance she had felt a pounding in her chest as her heart filled with excitement at the opportunity to entertain and perform.

 

1216. there is something new about this moment as she steps into view of the Dragon Lord in lavish silks and the mask of her stage persona. Her heart pounds in her ears in an exciting way as her eyes barely settle on the two lines of guests sitting behind small tables teeming with decadent dishes. Instead of lingering on unfamiliar faces, her eyes settle on the main seats of honor, Hyeju in rich red robes embroidered with golden dragons and the Dragon Lord on her immediate left in a black hanbok with golden flowers on her chest and shoulders.

 

“You have entertainment for once!” an unfamiliar man crows in clear pleasure, his seat closest to the front of the retinue. His robes and his manner reminds Seulgi of the countless ministers she has performed for at the capital. She simply dips her head in greeting as she moves toward her seat before the main table, ignoring the curious stares of the lines of men to her left and right. She sinks down onto a fluffy looking cushion with a grace that makes more than one observer lean forward in interest. Keeping her fan open, she sits fully, eyes darting from Hyeju’s intrigued head tilt to the Dragon Lord’s clenched jaw.

 

“That’s certainly the most excited I’ve ever seen the emissary,” mutters Sooyoung as she leans around Seulgi to help Yerim set the gayageum down behind her. Seulgi simply nods her head, keeping her barely there smile as she feels all of the eyes in the room on her.

 

“What is your name?” the man asks as Seulgi lets her fan lower ever so slightly, revealing the curve of her cheeks and nose.

 

“The Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong,” the Dragon Lord answers for her. Their eyes meet and Seulgi feels her face warm.

 

“Really? You of all people have managed to snatch such a talented musician right from your father’s nose?”

 

“She’s played for the Dragon King before,” Hyeju supplies to fill the silence before taking a sip from her steaming cup of tea.

 

“She trained at the best gibang in Pyeongyang and is said to be able to perfectly match the sounds of any season. I have only heard her once when she was invited to the Dragon King’s court but it truly was a remarkable performance.”

 

Seulgi inclines her head politely at the compliment before snapping her fan closed with a flick of her wrist. The sharp sound ripples in the contained space, commanding the attention of everyone around her.

 

“It seems you know much about me, Sir. Your kind compliments make me drunker than the noju from Andong.”

 

The man barks out a laugh as he watches Seulgi gesture for her gayageum to be brought to her lap.

 

“What song will I be lucky to hear from you today?”

 

“A song that I hope can allow for the flow of good conversation and better rice liquor.”

 

Hyeju blinks rapidly at Seulgi before giving the Dragon Lord an uncertain glance. She is probably unused to the way Seulgi is acting, on the knife’s edge of flirtation and haughty condescension. What is even more interesting, however, is the Dragon Lord’s expression, eyes narrowed and focused on the little movements of Seulgi’s head and hands as she tunes the gayageum.

 

Seulgi watches out of the corner of her eye as Sooyoung strides to the emissary’s side and unfurls a silk scroll. Chaewon stands beside her with a heavy looking inkstone and a horse hair brush.

 

“And what is this?”

 

“Usually I have my guests prompt me with a word so that I can perform a song uniquely suited to their tastes. I choose the word written by the person with the best calligraphy and deem them the guest of honor.”

 

The emissary laughs in delight as he observes Chaewon grind the inkstick against the inkstone. He picks up the brush and carefully dips the bristles into black ink.

 

“Does this mean the entire party will participate as well?”

 

The two lines of guests on either side of Seulgi bow forward and demur the offer in near synchronization.

 

The emissary raises a gray eyebrow and glances at Hyeju and the Dragon Lord.

 

“You were the one who taught me my when I was young, Teacher. A competition would be pointless,” the Dragon Lord murmurs quietly.

 

“I look forward to the topic you will choose,” Hyeju offers, earning a subtle nod of approval from the Dragon Lord.

 

Seulgi averts her eyes as the old man writes with a grip that shows the mastery he has as a calligrapher. He clears his throat as he finishes his last with a smile and gestures for Sooyoung to grab the scroll.

 

“What has the guest of honor chosen for me to play?” Seulgi asks, her hands pausing above the strings of the gayageum.

 

“The word is… ‘Duty,’” reads Sooyoung, showcasing the scroll for all three sides. When Seulgi sees the scroll, observing the two hanja characters, she thinks of the Dragon Lord’s pained eyes glittering with moonlight.

 

“I thought it would be a suitable reminder for the crown princess. Especially with the Dragon King’s birthday celebration in the spring.”

 

Seulgi feels her eyes drift to the Dragon Lord who stares at the neatly written characters with narrowed eyes. She takes a sip from her cup but the line of her shoulders remain stiff.

 

“I believe the reminder would be more of use to myself and not the crown princess, Teacher.”

 

Seulgi’s eyes drop down as she itches to ease the tension filling the room. She plays the beginning for the tune beseeching the Dragon King for rain during a drought, earning a few dry chuckles from her audience.

 

“Why would you need such a reminder, my Lord? You know more than any of us the meaning of duty. It is something we must carry with us from the moment we are born until the moment we die.”

 

The Dragon Lord makes a thoughtful noise. Seulgi catches sight of the other woman shifting in her seat at the words.

 

“Is that why my father has sent you here to reward me for the successful mission to the Mountain God of Jinrisan? Because I fulfilled my duty?”

 

Seulgi meets the Dragon Lord’s gaze and finds her hands moving over the gayageum. Her hands are gentle, pulling a lilting melody that quiets the banter. She feels the song building as her body bobs with the sounds reverberating against her thighs. Her fingers on her right hand move swiftly, plucking a quick tune that is deepened with each press of Seulgi’s left hand.

 

Head swaying, Seulgi leans more fully over the gayageum as the room stills and in her mind’s eye there is only her and the Dragon Lord on that pavilion from her childhood. The other woman is sitting so close that Seulgi can feel the warmth of her knees as she moves forward and whispers Can we say that our duty is a yoke if we freely accepted it? Seulgi imagines the Dragon Lord in her robes from a thousand years ago, the scarlet silks of the crown princess. Her golden eyes shine as she grabs the skirt of Seulgi’s petticoat, covering embroidered silver paulownia blossoms with a pale hand.

 

She feels the Dragon Lord press their temples together as they sway closer. Wordlessly, Seulgi raises a hand to tangle in the other woman’s hair. They remain like that, intwined as the Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong and the former Crown Princess of the Dragon King for a long breath in a mountain sunset from Seulgi’s memory.

 

Seulgi swallows hard before letting her hands flutter a little over the strings of her gayageum and she gauges the reactions of her audience. The emissary is watching her carefully, eyes narrowed like he is studying a line of text. She flashes him a slight smile and begins to crest over the of her playing, her fingers slowing over the strings. Hyeju catches her eye, seeming to wiggle in her seat as she enjoys Seulgi’s melody. She avoids meeting the Dragon Lord’s gaze, afraid of what she may see.

 

And with that, her hands still over the strings and she leans back, head bowed demurely as she waits.

 

“Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong,” the emissary says softly and Seulgi tilts her head back to meet his stormy gaze.

 

“What a life you must have led to be able to capture such a difficult word so fully.”

 

The room fills with murmured assent and Seulgi hears the implicit permission to rest. She sits back a little and lets her shoulders relax slightly.

 

“Although I am not sure if the song sounded like duty so much as… devotion.”

 

Seulgi lifts her chin slightly at the careful words, eyes flicking to the Dragon Lord’s expression. Her golden eyes refuse to leave Seulgi, as if she’s waiting for something. Trying to not let her hands tremble too much, Seulgi laughs.

 

“Is not duty a declaration of love, Sir? And, is not devotion duty bound by affection?”

 

The emissary chuckles at the questions, nodding his head.

 

“I suppose it is difficult to separate one word completely from the other. Did the performance please you, Crown Princess?”

 

“Yes,” Hyeju replies with a serious nod. Seulgi dips her head down to hide her smile.

 

“And you, my Lord?”

 

Seulgi keeps her head down, eyes trained on her gayageum as she waits for the other woman’s reply.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Seulgi’s head jerks up in surprise.

 

“Thank you,” the Dragon Lord repeats softly. “Every song you have played before me has been memorable. But that melody in particular was quite beautiful.”

 

“My lord is far too kind.”

 

“I am simply being honest. The Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong is far too talented for my humble court.”

 

Seulgi frowns at the tone of the Dragon Lord’s voice. The other woman shifts and pointedly refuses to meet Seulgi’s gaze as she looks towards the emissary from the Dragon King.

 

“You told me that my father conveyed his gratitude for the success of the diplomatic mission to the Mountain God of Jinrisan. And that I can ask him for a favor of my choosing.”

 

“Within reason,” the emissary quietly adds before sipping from his cup.

 

“I wish for the Dragon King to accept the Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong to stay at his court until at least his birthday celebration. As you have seen, she is a musician who deserves to be playing for more people than just myself and my small retinue. Her talents guarantee a beautiful performance befitting the Dragon King’s birthday banquet.”

 

Seulgi clenches her jaw tightly to keep the look of confusion from her face. She drops her chin and stares at her hands, tightly clenched in the folds of her skirt.

 

“The Dragon King, I am sure, can be persuaded. You must think highly of this human to recommend her despite how much she has helped with your sleep.”

 

“I do,” the Dragon Lord says softly. Seulgi struggles to hold in her tears.

 

“Does this seem amenable to the Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong?”

 

Seulgi takes a steadying breath and is able to keep control of her voice.

 

“Is this what my Lord wishes for? To send me to the Dragon King’s court?”

 

“You have served your purpose dutifully. I do not wish to force you to stay at my castle for longer than necessary.”

 

“My purpose,” Seulgi quietly repeats. She meets the Dragon Lord’s gaze with a sad smile. She looks for a long moment but cannot see what she wants in those solemn golden eyes. Sighing softly, she dips her head, unable to bear the sight of the other woman before her.

 

“I am but a lowly gisaeng. The thought of serving at the Dragon King’s court is something I feel unworthy of. If I may be given time to think over this… generous proposal I would be most grateful, my Lord.”

 

“Yes. Of course.”

 

Seulgi nods, refusing to meet the Dragon Lord’s eyes for the rest of the banquet.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The waves lap on the shore, turquoise blue beneath a sleet gray sky. Seulgi shivers as she sits on a rocky craig at the edge of the seashore, looking out at the vast expanse of the ocean before her.

 

It has been three days since the Dragon Lord proposed she leave for the Dragon King’s court. The Dragon King’s emissary had promised to uphold the Dragon Lord’s request and mentioned that a formal edict should come by courier for Seulgi in the coming month.

 

It is not lost on Seulgi how the emissary seemed to assume that her acceptance of the invitation would be inevitable.

 

She hugs her knees to her chest, shivering despite the fur overcoat draped over her shoulders.

 

“I did not know such a pretty face could look so distraught,” comes a teasing voice. Seulgi glances over her shoulder and sees Byulyi walking towards her, hands stuffed in her sleeves to stave off the bitter winter chill.

 

“My mother always told me my emotions show too clearly on my face,” she mutters half-heartedly, turning back to look at the ocean. She hears the other woman stop a few paces behind her.

 

“The Dragon Lord is displeased that you seem to be unhappy.”

 

“Is that why you’re here? To inform me of my new purpose to be happy for the Dragon Lord’s sake?”

 

Byulyi laughs.

 

“She isn’t quite the type to order such a thing thoughtlessly.”

 

“I thought she and I had reached… an understanding about why I was here. But she seems to want me to leave her side almost as soon as I’ve arrived.”

 

Byulyi makes a thoughtful sound. Seulgi glances at her and watches as the other woman crosses her arms over her chest and stares pensively out towards the ocean.

 

“I have served the Dragon Lord since she was a young crown princess and I was just a low level body guard. We have been close companions since before Hwanung fell in love with that mountain bear at Baekdusan.”

 

They sit for a long moment, the silence buffered by the crashing of waves against shoal.

 

“After… after her sister was murdered, I left her alone with her grief and I will never forgive myself for not being by her side when she needed me most. Maybe I could have convinced her to not plot revenge against the imugi. Maybe…” Byulyi lapses into silence, face contorting for a moment. “I watched her be shoved into that box as punishment and I was there when she was pulled out nearly a thousand years later.”

 

“I met her. After the box,” Seulgi whispers softly, her deepest confession tasting like winter salt.

 

“Oh?”

 

“I don’t know how long after. But when I was young, I was studying the gayageum at a mountainside for training. And I met her in the spring.”

 

“I see. It seems your fates are wrapped around each other.”

 

“She… she seemed different than she is now.”

 

Byulyi sighs and shifts to stuff her hands under her arm pits for warmth.

 

“Sometimes I wonder if the Dragon King had just let her be on that mountainside… if she’d been given the time to let her body and mind heal… maybe things would be different. But when Hyeju hatched everything changed. The Dragon Lord was forced back into the Dragon King’s court, forever losing her title as crown princess but gaining the title of the ‘Dragon Lord of the East Sea.’ And ordered to have the new crown princess as her ward under her protection.”

 

“It seems a little cruel how easily she was discarded and then brought back to the Dragon King’s court.”

 

Byulyi chuckles at the observation, giving Seulgi a wry glance.

 

“I cannot pretend to understand the mind of a god. But he is certainly a complicated being. I can only imagine the burden of being his Heir. I saw what that sort of attention did to the Dragon Lord. Before.”

 

Seulgi thinks of the Dragon Lord’s words of gentle instruction to Hyeju of duty and vigilance. Another form of protection, perhaps, for her dead sister’s only child?

 

“Why has she asked for me to leave when I know she does not want me to?”

 

“Ah.”

 

Seulgi frowns and meets Byulyi’s patient smile. The other woman sighs as her gaze drops to look distantly somewhere behind Seulgi’s shoulder.

 

“What do you expect from someone who has had her most precious people and things forcibly taken from her? Isn’t it far easier to push someone away instead of wait for them to leave?”

 

“I would stay by her side if only she’d ask.”

 

Byulyi laughs at the clear petulance in Seulgi’s voice.

 

“A person like her does not simply ask for something she wants.”

 

“Then would she rather I just leave?”

 

“I suppose she will have to decide which is more important. Her pride or her heart.”

 

Seulgi feels her face flush at Byulyi’s words.

 

“I think we have both done enough waiting.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Byulyi watches as Seulgi stands, dusting the sand from her skirts and long coat.

 

“Please tell the Dragon Lord that I wish to see her tomorrow. I have a song I have been composing for a long time that I would like to finally share with her.”

 

“Alright. I think she would agree to whatever you asked. She has been in an incorrigible mood since you’ve been avoiding her these past few days.”

 

“I still play for her before she goes to sleep.”

 

“Those songs sound more like dirges rather than lullabies.”

 

Seulgi just huffs a laugh before looking back at the massive castle behind them. She sees the jade rooftop of the Dragon Lord’s residence and feels her resolve strengthen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seulgi waits by lantern light at the pavilion, seated with her recently polished gayageum in her lap. The chill of winter bites at the exposed skin of her hands but she stills, eyes trained on the lone figure of the Dragon Lord who crosses the bridge over the frozen pond. Her white robes make her seem ghostlike as warm breath wreathes around her face, her long dark hair tied back by a frayed purple ribbon.

 

Silently, Seulgi watches as the Dragon Lord stands at the bottom of the steps of the pavilion, looking up at Seulgi with soft golden eyes.

 

“You called for me?”

 

“Yes, my Lord.”

 

The Dragon Lord’s mouth curves, a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

 

“Well, I am here now.”

 

Seulgi swallows and averts her gaze to her own hands, chapped from the cold.

 

“I know it is improper for a lowly gisaeng to call on the lord she serves like this.”

 

“Is that what you think?”

 

Seulgi glances up and the Dragon Lord is sitting before her on a cushion, closer than she’s been in days. The longing in her chests yawns open and she cannot quite her tear herself away from the other woman’s arresting eyes.

 

“I am a gisaeng. And you are my lord. Is there something I misunderstand about the nature of our relationship?”

 

The Dragon Lord’s jaw clenches tightly as her eyes narrow.

 

“Is that what you think you mean to me?”

 

“What else am I supposed to think when you instruct me to be sent away to your father’s court without even asking for my opinion?”

 

“It is better that way. You can flourish there in ways you cannot here. You can play at festivals, be surrounded by other artists of all forms. I of all people do not want you to feel trapped by my…” The Dragon Lord’s mouth twitches and she drops her head to glare at her lap.

 

“At your what?”

 

“My affection for you.”

 

Seulgi releases a shuddering breath. She glances up and sees the Dragon Lord staring at her with resignation drooping the normally straight line of her shoulders. Her hands ball into tight fists as her heart pounds in her ears, her mind not knowing what to say first.

 

The moment stretches before them and Seulgi shivers in her furs but not from the cold.

 

“We have met before, my Lord.”

 

The Dragon Lord nods slowly, golden eyes confused.

 

“Yes. At my father’s banquet a few years ago.”

 

Seulgi’s hands unfurl as she begins to absently tune her gayageum, the sound like ice cracking on the surface of a frozen lake.

 

“Even before then.”

 

“Oh?” The Dragon Lord arches an eyebrow at Seulgi, face twisting in confusion.

 

Seulgi nods.

 

“I know, my Lord, that I have told you many stories during the time I’ve been by your side. But would you let me tell you one more?”

 

“And what is this story about?”

 

Seulgi lets out a shuddering breath.

 

“About a little girl and a dragon who could not bring rain.”

 

The Dragon Lord’s expression clouds at the words and Seulgi’s hands take on a mind of their own, dancing over the gayageum strings.

 

“Oh?”

 

“There once was a young girl whose dying mother’s only wish was to see one last rain storm. But not even Haneulnim’s kindness could give the kingdom of Joseon rain. The long drought made the mouths of singers too dry for their songs and the people’s crops lacking for offerings.”

 

The Dragon Lord’s eyes narrow but Seulgi continues, unable to stop what she has started.

 

“As the years went on with barely any rain and her dear mother becoming weaker, the girl nearly lost all hope that she would be able to make her mother’s wish come true. But then, the girl met a dragon.”

 

“The heavenly bringer of rain,” the Dragon Lord whispers.

 

“The dragon, however, cut by invisible wounds from nearly a thousand years of suffering, told the girl that she could not bring the rain her mother so desperately wanted.”

 

The Dragon Lord looks at Seulgi heavily, lips parted like she wishes to speak. But Seulgi continues, her hands moving as she at last plays a song she has written and rewritten in her heart for so long.

 

“But then, the girl, training to be a musician, started to play for the dragon every day. Perhaps she could pull the rain from the dragon with her songs.”

 

Seulgi’s hands play the tinkering melody she’d composed as a girl, the ricocheting of her hands from the top and bottom strings of the gayageum crudely mimicking the sound of a heavy rainfall. She hears the other woman sharply gasp but she does not raise her head until she eases the short tune to its gentle conclusion.

 

Meeting the Dragon Lord’s golden eyes, filled with tears and an expression of recognition, Seulgi’s hands nearly pause over her instrument. Do you see me? Seulgi asks in her heart. Do you remember me now?

 

“You.”

 

“Yes. Me.”

 

Seulgi smiles but her hands continue to move, compelled by the song she can finally play for the only person meant to hear it.

 

 

---

 

 

It has been nearly a thousand years since Joohyun has felt the warmth of spring on her face. She stretches out her body, arching her back like a sunning cat, and rolls to her side with slow blinking eyes. The trees around her, heavy with blooming flowers and bright green leaves, feel unreal to her. Everything has felt unreal to her since her long stretch of time in that dreadful box.

 

She yawns as she feels a soft wind on her face, a gift from the mountain god who’s allowed her to stay in his domain. Joohyun had been kind to him before, trading cups of rice liquor under cherry blossoms from several millennia prior when tigers smoked pipes and rain clouds cried for married foxes.

 

Perhaps it is both pity and nostalgia that inspired his invitation.

 

“She can come to my mountain,” the god had suggested, blowing a steady stream of smoke from his pipe. Joohyun barely turned towards him, seated on the jade floor of the Dragon King’s throne room, awaiting his final judgement. The heavenly emperor, Haneulnim had given her father nearly a thousand years to deliberate over what kind of punishment should befit a crown princess the Dragon King had cultivated in virtue and duty since birth. But what he saw before him, this broken thing barely able to lift her head and meet his eyes, was particularly pitiful in front of the other gods and emissaries present to observe the fallen crown princess of the Dragon King.

 

“You would take her to your mountain, despite what she has done?” the Dragon King had asked, his large golden eyes skeptical. his white beard with the back of his hand, he gestured for a water nymph who bent forward at the waist to dutifully fan at his neck.

 

“Your Highness, it would be an honor to have a dragon personally sent by your court to my home.” The god had smiled at Joohyun, the smoke from his pipe weaving around the moss hanging from his thick horns like morning fog lingering on mountains.

 

Joohyun had raised her head slightly to peer at her father, looking down at her with a pinched brow. Her mother, sitting at his side veiled in gossamer fabric, refused to meet her gaze.

 

“You have been a stain on my legacy for one thousand years,” were the first words Joohyun’s father directed at her. She felt the weight of them threaten to flatten her to the ground. But with the last of her old defiance, she met his eyes.

 

“But despite my personal feelings on what your fate should be, Haneulnim has been merciful. The Heavenly King has instructed me to spare your life. So what you do with yourself now is no longer any of my concern.” Joohyun heard a quiver in her father’s voice, an echo of the horrified scream when he’d seen her fall to her knees before him with the blood of the nine murdered imugi on royal robes. What have you done, he’d cried over and over, still in the white funeral clothes for Joohyun’s sister.

 

Ignoring the quiet chatter and reaction of the crowded throne room, Joohyun had simply bowed her head forward.

 

“I understand, Your Majesty.”

 

She’d left for the mountain god’s domain shortly thereafter.

 

Joohyun exhales, eyes opening slowly to the sunshine illuminating the impressive cuts of tan blocks of stone entwined with tree root on the mountainside. Vaguely she can hear the humans nearby. Children, the Mountain God had informed her. Learning to play the gayageum. Sometimes Joohyun would watch him approach the throng of girls as a friendly stag, being fed bits of leftover snacks with delighted giggles.

 

Joohyun of course keeps her distance. She sighs as she rolls onto her stomach for a proper stretch, the grass and smaller saplings quivering from the movement. As she tosses her head, she catches sight of something hiding behind a tree. Frowning, she sniffs.

 

A human.

 

Tilting her head, she waits until a curious face peeks from behind the sturdy trunk. The human’s hair is in a simple plait, hanging over her shoulder. Her free hand not clutching the wood of the tree holds something sweet-smelling.

 

“H-hello.”

 

Joohyun blinks slowly. The child seems to gain courage from her delayed response and detaches herself from the tree. Joohyun watches as the girl approach, carefully cradling the treat in her hand. When she is in front of Joohyun she pauses, looking her up in down as if she’s something impressive. Dragons are rare, Joohyun supposes. Not as common as your mischievous dokkaebi.

 

“I brought you something. An offering for rain.”

 

Joohyun frowns at the words, observing the girl’s wide eyed innocence. Dragons are famous rain bringers, receiving various offerings to do so. In the past she had brought rain to various regions of the Dragon King’s kingdom as one of her primary duties.

 

But now, titleless and empty, she wonders if she can still entice rain from the heavens like she had in the past. Would Haneulnim even listen to the requests of a crown princess who had fallen from grace?

 

“I cannot accept your offering,” Joohyun says, in her human form in a blink of an eye. The girl is staring up at her, slack jawed, and incapable of speaking. Joohyun glances away, hands balling up at her sides.

 

“Are you a dragon who cannot make the rain come?”

 

“Such a dragon doesn’t exist.”

 

“Then?”

 

Joohyun glances over at the girl and sighs.

 

“I cannot bring rain for you right now. Maybe… maybe with time.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Joohyun hates the soft-spoken disappointment curling that single word.

 

“I still want you to have this.”

 

“Why? I cannot give you what you ask for.”

 

“It’s a thank you. For when you do.”

 

Joohyun fights the scoff as the girl hands her the stick of candy with both hands. But still, she takes the offering. Carefully she breaks off a piece and on the sugary confection. She tastes a memory, sharing a stick of the same candy with her sister when they were both supposed to be receiving lessons. Pausing, she lets the sweet melt away in and finds her lips curling just slightly.

 

She realizes it has been nearly a millennia since she has smiled like this with another person.

 

Joohyun’s days at the Mountain god’s home shift just slightly the day she receives her first offering from that girl. Every once in awhile she finds Joohyun and tries to give her something. An ornament. A scrap of beautiful silk. Once she even manages a skewer of roasted sparrows, a favorite treat for dragons.

 

But then one evening, when the sun is melting into the dark earth, the girl appears with something tied to her back. Joohyun lazily watches her from her spot, a decrepit viewing pavilion on the mountainside.

 

“What is that?”

 

“Another offering.”

 

“Oh? You’d like to give me a… wooden box covered in silk?”

 

The girl makes a face but continues to unwrap the object she’d strapped to her back. When she pulls back the last scrap of fabric, Joohyun realizes it’s a gayageum.

 

“I am learning how to play songs to match the seasons. I thought maybe if I play songs that sound like rain it could help you. To bring the rain one day.”

 

Joohyun’s eyes narrow at the comment, and she gazes out at the sunset.

 

“Why do you want it to rain so badly?”

 

The question seems to make the girl pause as she starts to settle on the floor.

 

“My mother. She loves the rain. But it hasn’t come in so long. I’d like her to see it. Before she…” The girl swallows as her words stop, voice trembling on the verge of tears.

 

Joohyun hums and gazes at the child.

 

“You must care about your mother very much to come visit a dragon nearly every day.”

 

The girl nods, wiping at her eyes.

 

“Well. You should play. I would like to hear this song for rain.”

 

The girl pulls the gayageum more securely into her lap, tuning the strings with an impressive quickness despite her age. Joohyun has listened to many talented musicians during the years she’d been at her father’s court. Her inexperience makes her playing inelegant but there is a dogged determination to the way she touches the strings that makes Joohyun clearly hear her sincerity. She hides a half smile behind her sleeve as she listens to the girl’s song of rain.

 

When she finishes, Joohyun claps.

 

“I liked that very much. May I know the name of the talented musician that has played before me?”

 

“M-my name is Seulgi.”

 

“Seulgi.”

 

“How should I call you?”

 

Joohyun pauses at the question, clearly the product of childish ignorance. She thinks of her various titles, each word tasting like ash in .

 

“Joohyun. Just Joohyun.”

 

“J-Joohyun-nim.”

 

She meets Seulgi’s gaze with a slight smile.

 

“Seulgi. Thank you for your playing.”

 

It becomes a habit for a little while. At sunset Seulgi comes to visit Joohyun in her rickety pavilion as she watches the sun sink into darkness. Joohyun listens quietly, unable to hide her smile. It is one of the rare moments in her day when she isn’t plagued with her nightmares or day terrors. She knows that this child before her, playing her songs on her gayageum, has no connection to her past. It is a comfort she does not expect.

 

Maybe, Joohyun thinks, she can find peace here as a recluse on this mountain. Free of the pomp and circumstance of the Dragon King’s court. And of the shadow of her sister’s death and the murders of the imugi still fresh in her mind’s eye.

 

“I will have to leave soon, Joohyun-nim,” Seulgi says one evening. Joohyun pauses, brushing her hair from her eyes as she looks up at the other girl.

 

“Leave? For where?”

 

“I and the other apprentices were brought here for a training excursion. But with summer almost here we will return back to our school in Pyeongyang.”

 

“Oh. I see.”

 

Joohyun nearly startles when Seulgi hands her a purple ribbon with both hands.

 

“F-for your hair,” she says softly.

 

Joohyun nods her thanks as she begins to tie back the offending strands.

 

“It is such a shame that I will lose my favorite musician so soon. Perhaps I will hear of you again at the Dragon King’s court.”

 

Seulgi flushes under the praise, ducking her head to hide her smile.

 

“The Dragon King would never have one such as myself play for him.”

 

“Maybe not yet,” Joohyun concedes with a smile, gazing out at the mountains behind them. “But with time, perhaps I will see you there. The Dragon King does love to bring the most talented musicians to his banquets to play.”

 

“And… and what if I just wanted to play for you?”

 

Joohyun laughs at the words, glancing at Seulgi’s face hiding not even a little bit of her open sincerity.

 

“Perhaps if you grow into a musician of great merit and skill, we will meet again at the Dragon King’s court. And I will ask him if you may play for me every once in a while. I am no longer someone who can request very much from him.”

 

She watches as the girl’s expression becomes determined and she focuses on her playing.

 

“I will do that. I will learn to play beautiful songs so that one day we can meet each other again.”

 

Joohyun smiles unexpectedly at the words. There is a kindness, she thinks to the naivete of youth. Inexperience breeds hope too easily.

 

“I will look forward to when I can hear your songs again.”

 

“And then we can watch the rain together.”

 

Joohyun’s heart feels heavy and she looks away from Seulgi’s sincere gaze.

 

“Alright.”

 

A few days later, Joohyun watches Seulgi leave with the other musicians in training, the air thick with the hums of cicadas and the wet heat of summer. Their caravan winds down the mountain below Joohyun’s flying dragon form.

 

She does not realize that she feels rain drops on her back until a peal of thunder fills her ears. In disbelief, she stares at the gray clouds behind her, watching as heavy showers fall onto the earth. Joohyun lets out a quiet snort as she flies through the clouds as if in a memory. The wind and water chills her sides but she doesn’t care as she climbs further into the heavens and feels the tendrils of a childish hope that maybe someday she can become someone worthy to live through the burden of all that she has lost.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seulgi lets her hands fall into her lap, the song of her heart finished. She does not have to look up to know that the Dragon Lord—Joohyun—is watching her.

 

“Even when I was all alone … I nursed your kind words in my heart like a sacred vow. I let the hope that I would meet you again become my motivation to play and play until my fingers ached. And then over the years that motivation blossomed into something greater. Soon I was playing for myself just as much as I was playing for the hope of seeing you again.”

 

“Seulgi.”

 

“And when I saw you again after so many years… it felt like a gift. An opportunity to finally thank you for everything.”

 

“But… Sooyoung said you’d declined the offers to serve at my court for awhile,” Joohyun murmurs gently in confusion.

 

“As fate would have it, I was forced to retire shortly before. And I thought ‘How could I play in front of Joohyun-nim again? How could I show my face before you when I’d become a titleless gisaeng?’”

 

Seulgi feels herself shaking and she tries to tightly grip her skirts to still her trembling. It is only when she feels a warmth at her shoulder and looks up to see Joohyun that she finds herself able to stop.

 

“Did you really think that I would think less of you? After all you’ve accomplished?”

 

Seulgi raises her head. She feels her expression is enough to be an answer to the other woman’s question.

 

“And even though you felt this way… you still chose to come to my castle and try?”

 

“In the last missive, it was mentioned more clearly your need for my playing as more than just entertainment. As a form of… healing. How could I refuse to see you when I heard how you suffered? Despite what I am now?”

 

They share a smile, the years that have filled their separation melting like snow in spring. Vaguely Seulgi realizes that she hears rain. Her gaze slides past Joohyun and she sees rain drops disturbing the pond’s icy surface. Strangely, she no longer feels cold, like she is again that girl feeling an unexpected summer shower from the dragon she had befriended those years ago.

 

“And so I ask of you, my Lord, to not force me to leave your side. Let me stay a little while longer at your court and play the songs I have wished to share with you during our years of separation.”

 

Joohyun pauses, studying her heavily for a long moment. And then she stands, offering her hand to a curious Seulgi. She slides her gayageum gently onto a cushion and walks with the other woman to the railing of the pavilion. Near the edge of the curved eaves, Seulgi feels rain begin to soak the hem of her skirts and the ends of her hair.

 

But she does not pay it any mind, instead watching wordlessly as the other woman tugs her ribbon from her hair and presses it to Seulgi’s chest. Right above her heart.

 

“Seulgi.”

 

She says nothing, her tears mixing with the rain.

 

“Thank you for becoming the person you have. Thank you for coming here. Thank you.”

 

Seulgi places her hand over Joohyun’s as she nods.

 

“I would have always come back to you.”

 

Joohyun’s eyes are heavy as she steps closer, her hair frizzing in the rain shower. She reaches up her free hand and cups Seulgi’s face with a shuddering breath.

 

Seulgi can no longer fight the tug of her heart as she presses forward, soft against Joohyun’s. She tangles her hands in the other woman’s damp hair and feels her chest crack open with the warmth of something like a promise spilling out of her heart. She smells paulownia blossoms in the air as Joohyun kisses her back, her hand cupping Seulgi’s jaw like she’s holding a petal in her fingers.

 

Before them the icy pond shifts, melting like it is spring.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seulgi shifts a little nervously in the outfit she has been gifted by the Dragon King’s court. Wrapped in lavish blue silks and an elegant bell-curved skirt of the deepest shade of cerulean, she feels almost like a princess. As handmaidens had lined her eyes with kohl and paint red, she had seen herself transforming into the Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong in the burnished bronze mirror. In the empty hallway before the massive banquet hall she has only a single attendant holding her gayageum. She adjusts the jeonmo on her head just slightly to move the noul, the gossamer fabric of the veil making her surroundings shimmer.

 

From her place in front of the massive doors of the banquet hall, she can hear the quiet cheering and chatter of the Dragon King’s court. She feels a little dizzy as she thinks of the words so frequently recalled that they feel tinny with age perhaps I will see you in the Dragon King’s court one day.

 

A eunuch scurries up to Seulgi’s side with a bow.

 

“You have been summoned to enter.”

 

Seulgi nods and is about to step forward when she catches sight of a figure in white, long dark hair unkempt and hanging past thin shoulders. The eunuch follows her gaze over his shoulder and stammers.

 

“M-my Lord! Why are you leaving the banquet hall?”

 

And Seulgi is grateful for the noul obscuring her face. Because she does not know how to control her expression at the sight of Joohyun once again, exactly where she’d promised she would be. Speechless, she watches as the other woman pauses and glances at the eunuch.

 

“I have tired of the festivities and wish to retire back to my rooms for the evening.”

 

“B-but the performances! The Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong has even been invited to perform.” The eunuch emphatically gestures at Seulgi and Joohyun’s eyes slide from the eunuch to her. Even though they are separated by a distance, their proximity takes the breath out of Seulgi. She clenches her fists tightly into her sleeves to try to stop her shaking.

 

“And who is the Paulownia Blossom of Hanseong?”

 

“The finest gayageum player in all of Joseon! Some even call her the Hwang Jinyi of this generation! With her songs you can smell the sweet scent of spring paulownia blossoms.”

 

Seulgi hungrily takes in Joohyun’s smile.

 

“I apologize for missing your performance, my Lady.”

 

Her face warms at the words, formal and without a shred of recognition. With her heart pounding in her ears, she wordlessly shakes her head.

 

“I wish you would stay… if you are so able,” Seulgi hoarsely says, her voice thankfully muffled by the veil obscuring her face. Joohyun’s eyes widen at the bold request and all Seulgi can think is I found you I found you I found you.

 

“Another time, perhaps.”

 

Seulgi swallows hard at the words, studying the beautiful curve of Joohyun’s face, not changed despite the years that have passed between them. Her chest aches and aches but all she can do is return a courteous bow. She watches the other woman’s back for a long moment until she turns down a corridor.

 

“The Dragon Lord of the East Sea is finnicky about such banquets. Ever since…” the eunuch sighs before turning to regard Seulgi. “Well. It doesn’t matter. Are you ready to play?”

 

Seulgi inclines her head, adjusting the noul obscuring her face. Straightening her shoulders, the doors to the banquet hall open before her and she clenches her jaw. She will see Joohyun again. She will find her and play for her the song that she began writing in her heart since the moment they parted.

 

 

 

fin.