The woman stopped talking for a moment, watching her daughter rub her eyes.

“Do you want to go to bed and we can continue this tomorrow?”

“We just got to the good part, mommy.” The little girl protests with a pout. “They are going to confess their feelings and be together forever now, right?”

“I guess I’ll have to keep telling the story then…” The woman said with a soft expression. She couldn’t say no to her daughter when she was so excited about the story.

Even if the ending might not be what she expects.

__________________________________________________________________________

Things changed after that day.

At first, Ryujin was apprehensive.

She spent the whole week waiting for the Friday mornings they spent together. It was the only time Ryujin could let her words run free. In those moments with Yeji, she could go anywhere. It was freeing, and at the same time, she didn't want to be anywhere else.

But what if Yeji didn’t want to meet her anymore?

What if things got so weird that they lost the progress they had made?

Would Yeji call her “miss” again?

The last thought sent a shiver through her body. She hoped not. Ryujin enjoyed hearing her name come out of Yeji's mouth. It sounded different from the way other people said it. Her heart beat like crazy when she heard it.

But just because things had gotten different, that didn’t mean it was in a bad way.

The next time they met, they sat beside each other like they usually did. Ryujin taught Yeji a few new sentences, and it was almost like nothing had happened. They talked about their week, and even though she had overcome her writer's block, Ryujin admitted that she wouldn't have anything new to read that week. The writer had started a new story she wasn't ready to show.

In fact, in the last few days after that day, Ryujin had never been so inspired. She had written page after page, staying up late at night after everybody had gone to sleep and waking up earlier, full of inspiration. She had written so much in the past few days that her hands were constantly smeared with ink. But this story was different. It felt too personal, too raw to be shared yet.

She wasn’t ready to read aloud, not before she knew how it would end.

Yeji didn’t push her. She understood her time and respected it.

It was almost like nothing had happened. But when it was time to say goodbye, they couldn’t just walk away with a wave of hands.

They stood looking at each other for almost a minute before their bodies started to move on their own as if their muscles had stored the memories of their last encounter and needed to replay them again. Almost desperately, they reached for each other at the same time.

Yeji and Ryujin hugged so tightly that it was just as hard to break apart as it was the first time. Their eyes were full of sorrow and promises as they walked away from each other.

But every friday morning, they would come back.

And things changed little by little.

It started with longer hugs when it was time to say goodbye. Then they began to sit closer and closer to each other, with their arms slightly brushing against each other, until finally, they gathered the courage to reach for each other's hands. At first, they would blush, and the contact wouldn’t last more than a few seconds, but after some time, they started to hold hands during all of Ryujin’s readings.

It took much longer for them to hold each other outside of their hugs.

When Yeji spelled some words wrong, Ryujin casually passed her arm around her to reach for the quill and the paper in front of the gardener girl. She remembered how natural it felt, how Yeji leaned against her chest, and how she rested her chin on her shoulder as she explained what was wrong and what she should do next.

There was no hesitation, no awkwardness this time. Ryujin and Yeji fit so well that it couldn’t be anything other than natural.

“I didn’t know you knew how to braid hair,” Yeji said one day.

She was sitting in front of Ryujin, finishing her written exercise while the other girl played with her hair.

“I didn’t have much of a choice. Mom thinks it’s essential for us women to know how to take care of our hair so we can always be presentable. It doesn’t even make sense. She always paid someone to do our hair since I can remember,” Ryujin said with an annoyed smile. “But it’s okay. It wasn’t too bad to learn. And it served me well, right? Now I can braid your hair for you.”

“Thank you. I always wanted to let my hair grow, but shorter is easier to take care of. I never had much time because of work and stuff. What about you? Do you like your hair long?”

“I like short hair. I wanted to cut my hair short, even shorter than yours, when we first met, but my parents never let me,” Ryujin’s tone wasn’t bitter, just tired. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to.”

“I could cut it for you. I mean, not that I know how. I only cut flowers, but maybe it’s not that different,” Yeji said. She wanted to look at Ryujin’s face but couldn’t since the girl was still braiding her hair. But she heard her chuckle softly.

“I don’t think leaves and hair are the same, but sure. One day I’ll let you do it for me.”

“Until then, I’ll find a way to learn.”

“Okay, I’m done,” Ryujin stood up and offered her hand to Yeji.

“I can’t see, but I’m sure it’s beautiful,” the gardener said, touching her hair with care.

“Silly. Let’s go by the lake. You can see it in the reflection of the water.”

“You’re not going to push me back in again, are you? The weather is way colder than months ago,” Yeji asked as they walked to the lakeshore, their hands still together.

“I didn’t even push you. I just brought you with me since you didn’t want to come in.”

“You dragged me.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so easy to drag,” they were smiling at each other, soft laughs escaping here and there between their teases. “But no, I’m not going to push you. It’s cold. I don’t think the flu is going to look as good on you as the braid.”

“Now who is being silly?” Yeji said, her cheeks becoming red.

She got down to look better at her reflection in the water. Even though she didn’t feel like she had changed much physically, Yeji quickly noticed how she looked happier than she could remember in a long time. The braid had made her face appear more radiant. She never thought much of herself being pretty until Ryujin started to say it to her.

Her eyes focused on the reflection of the girl bending behind her. Yeji could see Ryujin smiling brightly, satisfied. Her eyes glowed, even though the reflection couldn’t reproduce her true shine at its max. But Yeji could see it anyway. Her chest tightened with the words she wished to say, but she stayed quiet. Only looking.

“You know, one time I read a story about this guy who fell in love with his own reflection in the lake and died. You’re not about to become him, are you?”

Yeji got up fast, almost tripping as Ryujin was standing right behind her. The writer held her arms, helping her steady herself while laughing. The gardener's cheeks were bright red. She didn’t even know what to say, and it was harder to think with Ryujin holding her so close.

“There’s something on your face. Stay still,” the writer reached forward, and Yeji felt her body freeze.

Their faces were way too close, and the gardener quickly closed her eyes tight. She couldn’t stare at Ryujin’s lips. They were too inviting. She felt the tip of the writer's fingers brushing whatever it was on her cheek away. Yeji could also feel her breathing on the tip of her nose. It made her heart beat uncontrollably. The whole moment didn’t last more than a few seconds, but it felt like a lot more.

When she opened her eyes again, Ryujin was trying to hold an amused grin at her reaction. Yeji felt her cheeks on fire.

“What? You thought I would do something else?”

“No!” Yeji said fast, her head shaking from side to side. “I was just… I just...”

“Relax, I was just messing with you,” Ryujin said, giggling. “You’re so cute.”

Yeji didn’t say anything, covering her face with her hand before leaning to lie on Ryujin’s shoulder.

“You love to tease me too much.”

“Because you’re easy to mock.”

“So annoying, miss.”

“I thought we had a deal about that.”

“If you tease me, then I’ll call you miss,” Yeji argued, leaning back to look at Ryujin’s face.

“Not going to work. I’m not falling for that.”

“One day, you will.”

Ryujin just scoffed and shook her head before wrapping her arms around Yeji.

“Okay, okay. I think it’s time for storytime,” they started to make their way back to their spot.

“Are you going to finally read me the one you’ve been so secretive about?”

“It’s not ready yet. But I finished the one I was telling you about last week.”

“Okay. I’m curious about how it’s going to end.”

Yeji sat down, and Ryujin rested on her lap. The gardener's fingers gently brushed her hair as she started to tell the story.

“Where did I stop last week?”

“Once upon a time?”

“Like I would ever start telling a story with ‘once upon a time’.”

“Still don’t know what you have against it. Isn’t it a classic?”

“Yes, my sister loves every story that starts like this. But all the books my parents didn’t throw out start with ‘once upon a time’ or are poetry. I want a different start for different stories.”

“I like the way you always start differently every time. It makes it special.”

“Thank you,” Ryujin often got without words when Yeji praised her, but she tried not to show it. Getting comfortable, she started to tell the story.

And as time went by, they never missed a Friday morning together.

For more than a year, that was all the progress they could make.

It was slow. It wasn’t enough, but it was all they had.

It was all they could have.

And it was good. It wasn’t perfect and could never be, but Ryujin and Yeji enjoyed every second they were together.

After almost two years since they had met in the rose garden, they should’ve expected that something would eventually go wrong.

Because it's usually when things are good that they start to go bad.

***

Back to the present day, at the Shin’s mansion

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yes, mother.”

Ryujin wasn’t listening. But she had learned a long time ago that it was better to just go along with everything her mother said. It wasn’t like she didn’t know the usual discourse anyway. Be polite, smile, and make a good impression. Be pretty. Be better. Ryujin knew these things by heart, unfortunately. She could already feel the pain in her cheeks after spending a whole night forcing a smile.

The room was full of women. Ryujin was sitting in front of a mirror, with one sister on each side of her, and their mother sat beside Jisu. Each one had their particular hairdresser working on their hair, putting them up in delicate buns and fancy tiaras on the top of their heads. The smell of different oil fragrances mixed in the air. Behind them, new dresses in mannequins waited for them to wear.

The whole thing made Ryujin want to vomit. It wasn’t like she disliked being pampered. Having someone to prepare her clothes, help with her hair, and care for her skin felt quite nice. The problem was she didn’t have a choice. Ryujin couldn’t choose the dress, nor the make up. And after the huge fight she had with her parents, on the day she asked if she could cut her hair shorter, the writer thought it was better not to talk about it again.

“So, as I was saying. Since part of the military was temporarily dismissed for rest, a few soldiers were invited to come tonight. Captain Chaeryeong’s squad, to be more precise. As your sister is not to leave her side, you should also stick with her. Maybe you can catch Lieutenant Felix’s attention.” The Shin matriarch said, smiling at her own face in the mirror.

If one thing, Ryujin was glad her mother was distracted by her own reflection. This way, she couldn’t see how Ryujin’s face contorted as if she just had been punched in the gut. Of course, now that Jisu was soon to be married to Chaeryeong, she was the next on the list. It wasn’t like it was the first time her mother had tried to push someone on her, but she had managed to avoid it because she was not the oldest. And it would be a shame if a younger daughter gets married before the oldest one. Not that she believed in any of that, but her parents did.

In her head, she would’ve had enough time to save enough money to run away with Yeji. They would’ve gone far away, so her family wouldn’t be able to find them. Ryujin then would find a job, and maybe Yeji could still be a gardener for someone else. They would make enough money to buy their own house, and she would keep writing. One day, she would find a way to publish her books. And Yeji could have her own flower shop. And they would leave happily ever after, like the end of most romances she had read.

There were just a few little failures in her plan.

She didn’t have enough money to go very far yet, and most importantly, she never told Yeji about any of that.

Ryjin never believed in fairy tales anyway.

The past year and a half after that day in the lake, none of them talked about their feelings. They knew how they felt, and their body translated in touches. Yeji’s hands would often search for Ryujin’s. And it was mutual. Ryujin's favorite place to lie down was on Yeji’s lap. And their favorite place wasn’t their secret place, but each other's arms. So they knew what they felt, but they never said.

Words are powerful.

Both girls believed that with all their hearts. If they talked about it, then it would become real. They wouldn’t be able to ignore it.

So they pretended.

Yeji and Ryujin pretended that everything was fine. This way they could have part of it, even if they desired all. They could have each other, even if wasn’t the way they wanted. They were both too selfish to say something, wanting to keep the other close. They were both too selfless to say something, being side by side and desiring more but never acting on it.

They were both fools because they were too scared to love out loud.

And now, Ryujin didn’t though they would even have a chance. Because she had broken the unsaid promise, she had told Yeji how she felt. She didn’t mean to say at that time. It had escaped. When she saw it, she had already said it. And part of her didn’t regret it because she wanted to say it for so long.

She was so tired of this life.

Tired of fake smiles and fake people. Tired of her parents using her and her siblings in their power plans. Tired of having her choices taken away.

Ryujin was tired of pretending.

All her life, that was the only thing she ever did. And she was so tired of all.

But she was also scared.

No.

Ryujin was terrified.

She didn’t know a world different from the fake one she was born in. And facing new things wasn’t easy. She never had to work a day in her life. She didn’t know many things about life outside of the aristocracy.

What if the world outside the walls of her house was nothing of what she expected?

What if she escaped a cage just to get locked in another one?

What if she did just to find out her parents were right all this time?

What if she wasn’t good enough?

And what about Yeji?

Would she come with her if she asked?

Ryujin's head hurt thinking about her confession earlier. Maybe if she had said it before, it would’ve been more appropriate, she would have broken their promise either way, but the moment would’ve been less chaotic. Ryujin couldn’t even imagine how Yeji’s head was after everything that had happened. Letting her feelings escape must’ve only added to the weight on her shoulders. She felt bad for telling her even if she didn’t regret it completely. It could’ve been at a better moment.

And she didn’t even wait to see what she would say. God, she was so dumb. The things between them had just started to go back to normal, and she had to ruin everything. And now her mom wanted her to talk with this Felix when the only person she wanted to talk to was Yeji.

Her tortured thoughts occupied her mind for all the time they spent in that room getting ready. Ryujin couldn’t focus on any of the conversations her sisters and her mother had. She could barely notice her own actions. Everything felt more mechanical than usual.

When she finally came to herself again, she was already inside her dress. If felt tighter, like a constant reminder she couldn’t move freely. Her actions were not her own.

Ryujin wanted to scream. Run away. Disappear.

Instead, she smiled because she could feel her mother's eyes on her.

“My gorgeous girls.”

“You’re beautiful too, mother.” Jisu was the one who said.

Sometimes Ryujin envied her so much.

Jisu was the perfect daughter. She never once in her life had disappointed their parents. She was perfect in every aspect. Beautiful, talented, and intelligent. And she would even marry a woman she loved. That was what Ryujin envied the most.

It was their parents' idea to make Jisu get closer to Captain Lee Chaeryeong, as military connections were significant to them. But it had worked better than anyone could expect. Jisu and Chaeryeong had fallen madly in love with each other.

Three months later, they would soon be married.

Jisu had more luck than Chan, as their older brother was forced into a marriage without love, and all the luck Ryujin wished she could have.

“Are you okay? You don’t look like you’ve been feeling well today.”

She didn’t notice everyone leave the room. Ryujin also didn’t notice when Jisu stayed behind once she saw she was not following them.

“I’m fine.”

“That didn’t sound very convincing.”

Of course, perfect Jisu would be the one who would notice. Sometimes Ryujin wished she could hate her. But Jisu was one of the few people she knew she could count on.

“Today just had been a really long day for me. That’s all.” Ryujin said, a heavy sigh escaping from her lips.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t feel like talking right now. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Try to think positively. We will go to this stupid dinner and stuff our faces with food when mom and dad weren’t looking. We can dance until our feet get tired and we can no longer stand. By the time it’s over, we will be so exhausted that the moment our heads touch our pillows we will already be asleep.”

“Let’s hope you’re right, my dear sister.” Jisu’s way of always staying positive probably didn’t work for anyone besides herself, but Ryujin didn’t have the heart to tell her that.

“I’m right… most of the time.”

“Good luck trying to convince yourself that.” Ryujin could never miss the opportunity to mess with her sister. Hopefully, it would distract her from their previous conversation.

“Hey!” Jisu protested.

Ryujin walked away first. She didn’t want to keep talking with Jisu. She wasn’t sure she could keep herself together in front of her for too long.

The first half of dinner passed like a blur to Ryujin.

All the time her dad was doing the introduction, she was looking around the room. Her eyes searched for someone who wasn’t there.

At least a third of the city was present. People from different social classes occupied tables inside and outside the house. Some even stand close to the food tables or scattered around. Ryujin wasn’t surprised when she noticed that all the relevant families had tables on the inside, guarded against the chilly winds of the night. While the lower classes stayed outside, separated from the rest.

It was a typical thing the politics in the town always seemed to do. Ryujin had seen it before. They invited almost half of the town to promote themselves and their egos. This way, lower classes felt included and more inclined to vote for them. And the aristocracy was put in another room, giving the impression of having some importance. It was also a way to secure votes, making people feel like they had some sort of value.

But at the end of the day, they were all pawns in a political game played only by feel selected people. If Mr. Shin wanted to be elected mayor, he only needed the support of five families: the ones who controlled the market, the farms, the bank, and the police. And half of that, he already had.

Ryujin had spent most of the dinner playing with her food, avoiding eyes to not engage in any kind of conversation. Her table wasn’t only for her family. Her father had the parents of Chan’s wife sit with them. After all, they controlled most of the farms around the town. The Choi’s – owners of the town bank – also sat with them. Beomgyu, their only son, had made peace with Yuna as soon as they had met, and both children were the only ones to actually seemed to have fun during the dinner.

Her parents and the Choi’s seemed to talk about a recent bank acquisition, a house they had bought from someone. Ryujin pretended to pay attention but wasn’t listening. She didn’t want to know how much they had paid or how much they planned to sell the land.

At some point, Captain Lee, Jisu’s fiancé, had been invited to sit with them. Unfortunately, she had brought Lieutenant Felix with her.

“So, Ryujin, I heard you like poetry. Is it true?”

Felix had taken a sit at her side and attempted to start a conversation. Of all things he could ask, poetry was one of the worst ways to catch Ryujin’s attention. If they were in any other place, Ryujin would laugh freely and give an honest answer, cutting the talk right away. But at the table – feeling both of her parent's eyes on her – she opted for taking a sip of her drink before answering.

“I appreciate them.” She lied through her teeth.

“Oh, that’s such an amazing coincidence. I happen to enjoy it too.”

“How wonderful.”

Ryujin found nothing of that wonderful. Even if she liked poetry too – which she did not – so what? More than one person could like poetry. There was no “amazing coincidence” about that. She and Yeji’s, for example, had very different tastes. Ryujin preferred to stay inside the house most days, away from everybody, and a good book to read or something to write. Unlike Yeji, who enjoyed staying outside with the flowers and never rejected some company. She was very friendly with most of the other employers of the mansion.

What had brought them together was exactly the fact that they were different. And now it was also their curse. Ryujin couldn’t help but keep thinking about that. And thinking about Yeji only made her absence more evident.

Looking at Felix’s eyes, she couldn’t feel anything of what she had felt when she looked at Yeji’s eyes for the first time. They didn’t let her intrigued, not even a bit curious. So she avoided them. Instead, Ryujin looked at the other side of the table from the corner of her eye, trying to catch her sister's attention. Only Jisu could help her now and take her out of that situation. However, to her despair, her sister was too busy blushing and giggling about something Chaeryeong had whispered in her ear.

“Which one is your favorite author?” Felix kept trying to get her attention.

“Pardon, what?”

“Your favorite poetry author? Or maybe you could tell me your favorite piece?”

Felix seemed genuinely interested in her answer, and Ryujin panicked. She didn’t know anything about poetry. She simply chose to ignore the subject when her mom brought it up. She couldn’t even remember the name of an author, let alone a piece of anything.

Ryujin knew there was only one way to escape from answering, so she quickly shoved a fork full of food inside .

A part of her hoped that Felix would be discouraged by her action and let their conversation die. But to her horror, the soldier found it amusing and laughed deeply.

“You must be quite hungry.”

Ryujin only nodded, agreeing.

She wanted to hit her head on the table but just shoved more food in before even finishing chewing. She just wanted to postpone her turn to talk as long as possible.

“Felix, how is your dad?” Mrs. Shin asked, taking the attention away from Ryujin. The quick side eye she gave her showed how her mother wasn’t pleased with her manners.

“He is fine, that old fisherman. I told him to come along, but he said since most of his men are coming, someone should stay at the docs.”

Lee Felix’s dad was the one who controlled the marine trade. Nothing came or left the town by the sea if he wasn’t aware of it. Ryujin would have scoffed at that information if wasn’t so full of food that she would probably end up choking. As always, nothing that her parents did was by accident.

“That’s unfortunate.” It was her dad who said.

“I’ll make sure he comes next time,” Felix said with a small smile.

“Dad, can we go outside to play?” Beomgyu's loud voice brought attention to the other side of the table.

The younger boy was already on his feet, Yuna by his side. But the younger Shin approached her own dad to ask the same question. Mr. Shin didn’t seem very pleased. He was about to deny the request, but Mr. Choi spoke first.

“Go on kids, have fun.”

“You’re excused Yuna.” Mr. Shin had no choice but to agree.

Neither Beomgyu nor Yuna waited for one of them to change their minds. The kids dashed off, disappearing between the tables. Ryujin could see the scolding look on her mother’s face watching them run and how she had to swallow her words once she saw how Mrs. Choi didn’t seem to care. A satisfied smile appeared on Ryujin’s face. It was not every day she saw her parents uncomfortable with situations they created themselves.

“Oh, I love this song,” Jisu said.

As usual, they had some musicians playing. Jisu would also sing later, before their father's speech. Then the music would resume for a few more hours, and the party would be over at some point before dawn.

“Can I have this dance, my lady?” Chaeryeong asked, getting up and extending her hand to Jisu.

“Of course, my brave soldier.”

They made their wa