I found out pretty quick why Lady Eon wanted to teach me herself.
“When you were little, you embroidered these. Do you remember?”
She opened a chest where she must have kept them safe all this time and pulled out a stack of cloth. What was embroidered on them was… well.
“A real masterpiece.”
“Oh my.”
Lady Eon burst out laughing at my comment. Grace and gentle warmth radiated from her like sunlight.
“This was the very first one you ever embroidered. Your brothers fought so viciously over who would get to keep it that, in the end, I took it and stored it myself.”
“This is… uh… what was it supposed to be again…?”
Lines twisted across the fabric in a way so cryptic I doubted even the world’s greatest art scholars could decipher it.
But Lady Eon knew exactly.
“They said it was your brothers practicing swordsmanship. The Clan Head was so moved that day, declaring our daughter must be a genius even in the arts, that he was brought to tears.”
Yeah. Sure he was. Honestly, if I’d just drawn a single line, they probably would’ve clapped and claimed I’d grasped the secrets of the universe.
If I’d embroidered anything even vaguely recognizable, they’d have flipped the entire Moyong Clan—and all of Liaodong province—upside down bragging about their daughter.
Lady Eon’s love, though, was a bit different. As she poured me tea, she said,
“I never wanted to push you to learn embroidery simply because it’s what everyone else does. I hoped you’d find something that made you truly happy.”
“…Yes.”
“And even now, if you don’t feel it’s necessary, I won’t force you. But you were always so proud as a child. I only ask so you won’t feel hurt later.”
Come to think of it, Lady Eon had asked me many times whether I truly wanted something. Like when Young Hero Dang dropped that marriage bomb at dinner—she’d checked with me then too.
That was probably part of why she was so hard for me. Most people just told me what they wanted from me; no one ever really wondered what I might want.
Honestly, I didn’t know how to handle it.
“Um, well… I forgot everything, so I thought I’d try learning again. Of course, sword training is still the most fun, but, uh… like you said, it’d be pretty embarrassing to fail too miserably.”
Lady Eon only smiled and asked no more.
I wanted to run out of there, my chest ticklish and unsettled, but I forced myself to stay. A warm scent seemed to drift from Lady Eon as she gently explained things to me, like she was teaching a little child.
Maybe if those bald monks ever actually saw Guanyin Bodhisattva, she’d feel something like this.
* * *
And meanwhile, I was clearly more like the demons or evil spirits those bald monks muttered about.
I’d driven that bodhisattva-like Lady Eon to clutch her head with a headache and left the hands Sahyeon had treated in an even sorrier state.
‘Should I just say I injured my hand training so I can’t attend…?’
I sucked on a fingertip beaded with blood and asked carefully. Lady Eon gave a faint, complicated smile, like she was hiding her true feelings.
‘Let’s… see how it goes again tomorrow.’
Guess she wasn’t ready to give up on me just yet.
I slumped over the table with a long sigh. The day was already gone, and it was deep into the night.
So much for doing this the normal way. I’d have to look into alternatives.
First, some sleep.
I dragged myself up. But just as I turned off the lamp and went to lie down, a voice slid out of the shadows.
“Knew you’d end up needing me.”
Not even surprising at this point. It was Sahyeon. That bastard just waltzed into my room like it was his own. Honestly, he really was insane.
He stepped from the darkness into the moonlight, his face lighting up just like it had that first night I’d learned what he was. Only the warmth of his smile had changed.
“I can break my own hand just fine if I want, you know.”
I answered bluntly from where I sat on the bed. I could admit it now. If Lady Eon was close to giving up on me, my situation was probably pretty dire. I was feeling a bit small.
Still—I was Seol Danhae at my core. Just because I’d never done it didn’t mean I couldn’t. A needle was just a tiny sharp bit of metal. If I wanted, I could handle it.
Almost like he could read my thoughts, Sahyeon gave a soft laugh.
“Seeing you all down like this isn’t very my-lady-like. It’s normal for people to have things they can’t do. You really gonna break your hand over it?”
“…Was just gonna pretend it was broken. Not actually do it.”
“And how would you keep training then? You’d get caught in no time and just look sillier for it.”
Either way, a joke.
Sahyeon settled into a chair at the table again, propped his chin on one hand, and tapped the tabletop with his fingers.
“This was Moyong Sohae’s auction, right?”
“Yeah. The money’s supposed to go toward buying grain for charity, or something.”
“So more money raised is better, huh?”
“Exactly.”
And my work would never sell. Even if it was for a good cause, who’d pay a high price for some multicolored piece of shit to hang on their wall…?
Then suddenly a spark went off in my head, and I shot upright.
“Right. Who cares what it looks like, so long as it sells for a high price.”
Sahyeon flinched, then broke into a sly grin.
“Exactly. As long as it sells.”
“You—! You absolute unorthodox-clan bastard. Thank you!”
I grabbed his hand and bounced in place. His face twisted like he’d just bitten into something sour.
“Why am I… whatever.”
“That’s right, why didn’t I think of this sooner? Hahaha!”
I was finally freed from that beggar’s worry. Damn, this Sahyeon guy was surprisingly helpful sometimes.
“You’ve been a huge help. If you ever need something from me, tell me. I’ll do my best to return the favor! You useful bastard.”
I was always generous with praise for capable subordinates. Of course, I was just as ruthless with useless ones.
To show my approval, I even gave him a couple pats on the shoulder. Sahyeon just stared at me, looking utterly dumbfounded.
Didn’t matter. I was too thrilled to stop myself—I sprawled out across the bed.
“Ah! Perfect. Let the embroidery go to hell!”
I felt completely liberated!
“Mmm, seems like my lady’s problem’s solved thanks to me. So are you gonna tell me exactly what this plan is?”
Sahyeon quietly eased onto the edge of the bed and asked. Normally I would’ve kicked him off immediately, but right now I was feeling generous! Especially with him!
I shot up and sat cross-legged, then grinned wide and shared my bold, short, but utterly brilliant, thoroughly unorthodox plan.
Sahyeon was speechless for a long while.
* * *
The day finally came.
My hand that had been pricked by needles healed up in no time, completely clean again. Of course it did—I hadn’t practiced even once since then.
I didn’t bother faking a broken hand either. I just went about my usual dawn training and got ready at my leisure. Honestly, the one all worked up was Hyangah.
“My lady, it’s been so long since you’ve attended one of these gatherings. You have to look the prettiest there.”
“Mm, do I?”
“Of course, you’d be the prettiest even if you just showed up as you are! But you still have to look even prettier.”
I let Hyangah do whatever she wanted. She seemed ready to spend a thousand years just combing my hair, but what did it matter? It’s not like she was trying to stab me, only to dress me up.
Besides Hyangah, there were three other maids whose names I couldn’t remember helping out. I’d thought this level of fuss was only for weddings. Turns out being a noble young lady was pretty damn exhausting.
“Hey, give me a tangerine.”
“No, my lady, it’ll smear your lip color.”
“It’ll just smear later anyway when I eat there. Isn’t it better to have one now instead of starving and then stuffing my face like a beast?”
“I know you’ll still eat your fill once you get there.”
Damn it. Hyangah really was sharp. To think she’d figured me out this well by now.
The sour tangerines Moyong Sohae gave me were slowly ripening into a mellow yellow. Hyangah absolutely hated seeing me eat them, but I was diligently popping them one by one.
I’d even overheard her muttering darkly more than once, “One of these days I’ll just give them all to the pigs.” What a joke. I’d make damn sure I ate every last one.
Whatever Moyong Sohae intended didn’t matter to me. I just hated wasting food.
Hyangah carefully examined my hair, which she’d braided on both sides and lightly pinned up, then meticulously brushed my bangs. They barely grazed my eyebrows, giving me a cute look.
In my past life, I couldn’t have cared less about hair. I just let it grow so I wouldn’t look like some bald-headed Buddhist nun, tied it up crudely, and when it got annoying, chopped off half with a blade.
But ever since I woke up in this place, Hyangah had been brushing my hair whenever she got the chance. Now, the face that looked back at me from the mirror felt familiar. Actually, it almost felt more like my real face.
Funny. When I first woke up and saw this face, it had been such a shock.
If Seol Danhae really was alive out there, and I came face to face with myself… would this face feel foreign then?
I was zoning out when Hyangah, brushing a soft flush onto my cheeks, spoke up.
“It’s a charity event, so maybe something a bit more subdued would be best for your outfit, my lady?”
I snapped back to attention.
“Ah, I was thinking of wearing what we bought before. I promised someone I would.”
“That outfit you bought? But all you picked up that time were stacks of training clothes…”
“No. The one Sohae bought me. That outrageously fancy one that looks like a peacock exploded.”
Hyangah froze. Unease flickered across her face.
“…You’re wearing… that? You’re joking, right?”
“Nope. I’ve never been more serious.”
“N-no. I know you chose that outfit, my lady, but… you were serious? You weren’t just saying that to get under Lady Sohae’s skin?”
“Why would I piss her off by wearing it? If I wanted to get at her, I’d refuse the gift or take it and never wear it.”
Hyangah went silent, like someone gagged her. I tried looking to the other maids for backup, but they all avoided my eyes. Cowards.
“Anyway, it was a gift, so that’s what I’m wearing. Sohae will be wearing the outfit I picked for her too.”
I declared it firmly. Even when Hyangah tried several more times to stop me, I wouldn’t budge. Honestly, their constant dismissal of my taste just made me more stubborn.
How could all these people have worse sense than Moyong Muhyeok, who was an older man? Was it because they worked too hard to bother with style?
Hyangah finally brought out the outfit. She practically looked like she wanted to burn it with her eyes.
“…I still think this is wrong. I can’t dress my lady in… in this totally inappropriate thing. It’s a matter of my pride…”
She even sounded like she might cry. I was almost swayed—women’s and children’s tears were my one weak spot. But then a voice shouted from outside, as if to help steady my resolve.
“Lady Sohae has arrived. She also prepared a separate carriage for Lady Yeonhwa and invites her to ride with her.”
Hyangah’s eyes suddenly sharpened and she rushed to open the door. Several doors swung wide until we could see two carriages in the courtyard and Moyong Sohae standing there.
Under the sparkling sunlight, she looked every bit the lovely… clown.
Hyangah clapped both hands over her mouth to keep from bursting out laughing, tears forming in her eyes. I felt smug. Ha, now she’d have to admit I had good taste.
Moyong Sohae said,
“Sister. It seems I was so eager that I finished getting ready much too early. I’ll wait here, so take your time coming out.”
“You won’t come in and wait?”
“Oh my, shall I? You really are so generous, sister.”
Without refusing, Moyong Sohae naturally stepped closer and started walking toward the guest sitting room. Hyangah still hadn’t recovered from her shock—she stared blankly at that retreating figure, then nudged another maid.
“G-go… bring her tea.”
“…Yes.”
Hyangah clutched my garish outfit like someone who’d just lost the most important thing in her life. Then she stripped off what I was wearing and dressed me in that peacock monstrosity. Every time the fluttering feathers or pleats swayed, she looked stricken.
“Everyone will only be looking at me. Don’t worry.”
I offered it lightly, trying to console her. Hyangah gritted her teeth and hissed, as if of course they would.
But then the hallway grew noisy. Quick footsteps came racing from the guest room.
“What’s going on?”
Hyangah asked, just as the door flew open. It was Moyong Sohae’s maid, the same one as before, who immediately rattled off words like she was reciting a script.
“The maid who was bringing tea spilled hollyhock flower tea on our Lady Sohae’s clothing. The gown she was to wear is now stained purple, and she is greatly distressed. May we punish the careless maid?”
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