WDCDF 03

Chapter 3

Seohwa couldn’t hold back her curiosity and turned around to face Yul, who was peeking from behind her. Meeting the child’s clear and innocent gaze, Seohwa squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. When she reopened them, her face was calm as if she had never been disturbed. She turned fully toward Yul and crouched down to meet her eye level, handing the bundle of medicinal herbs wrapped in paper to her.

“Yul, these are medicinal herbs. I added some taffy, so eat it on your way. Tell your mother not to skip taking the medicine, okay?”

“Unni?”

“Go on now. Hurry.”

Caught off guard, Yul hugged the medicine bundle tightly and looked back and forth between Seohwa and the man in confusion. Seohwa gently pushed her.

“Quickly now!”

Startled by Seohwa’s uncharacteristic urgency, Yul flinched.
“I need to tell the village elders,” she thought. “If I ask them for help, they’ll come help Seohwa. Everyone’s been saying life has gotten better since she came to Ddanggeut Village.”

“Mm-hmm.”

With that thought, Yul hurried off the porch and ran across the yard. The man who had been standing casually near the gate gave a crooked smile and stepped aside to let her pass.
He smells strange.
Yul had that fleeting thought as she clutched the crumbling herbs in her arms and ran as hard as she could.

As soon as Yul was gone, the man turned his head and spoke.

“Now that the child is gone, are you going to run away, Priestess?”

“I don’t know why you think I would. Just wait a moment. I’ll gather my things and come out.”

The man frowned slightly at how calmly Seohwa reentered the room. He had assumed her cooperation was because of the child—but apparently not.

“She doesn’t have a door in the back of the room, does she?”

Thinking it unlikely but not impossible, the man approached the porch. He didn’t want to waste more time than necessary—even if she ran, he could catch her quickly. His gaze scanned the inside of the room so openly that Seohwa couldn’t help but scoff and turn to him.

“Surely you’re not going to stand there and watch me, are you?”

“Why aren’t you running away?”

Their words overlapped. Seohwa’s hand froze in the middle of searching for ginseng hidden among the herbs. She turned her head, wondering if she had misheard him.
But no—his face was entirely serious. As if explaining himself under her incredulous stare, he added:

“It’s just hard to believe. Someone who’s been running for ten years suddenly following orders this easily.”

“Does it look like I’m following you willingly?”

“That’s why I’m asking.”

Ah. Seohwa let out a dry laugh. Maybe it had been too long—meeting someone who knew her past after all this time was jarring. She reached out again, pulled out a couple of ginseng roots, and wrapped them in white cotton. With her other hand, she picked up a ceremonial robe that had sat folded in a corner for years.

She thought she had stayed here for quite a while, yet the only things she was taking were one item for the Azure Dragon and one for herself.

“So you’re asking, huh.”

She repeated his words mockingly, curling her lips.
After ten years, all she had left were some ginseng and a robe.
It was a meager life to claim royal blood now. But a thief learns thievery; the ghost of a princess only needed a moment to reappear.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. Then, lifting her head, she looked down at the man—even though he was taller—and said:

“Did your king grant you the right to speak to me that way?”

Her old top, her faded skirt, her patched socks—she was born noble, but had lived half her life as a commoner. The man hadn’t imagined for a second that any trace of royalty remained in her.

And yet.

The woman now standing before him was the lost princess of a fallen kingdom—someone thought to have vanished into history.

The man immediately lowered his head respectfully, all mockery gone. Though no one recognized her anymore, this was once one of the most revered people in the land.

“If it sounded like an interrogation, I apologize. His Majesty instructed us to serve the priestess who carries the dragon within her—so please, don’t be angry.”

Seohwa studied the man who looked like he was barely suppressing a smirk.
He was being polite, yet she didn’t feel like she held any upper hand.

“Carries the dragon”?
The phrasing rubbed her the wrong way. Was it metaphorical? Or literal?

Either way, stirring things up here would cause unnecessary trouble.
So she stepped off the porch with a resigned sigh.

“I’ll take that as your apology.”

The man raised his eyebrows at her return to her usual tone. He seemed surprised—he’d expected her to resume acting like a princess now that her identity had been revealed. Seohwa gave a dry laugh.

“What? Thought I’d start issuing royal decrees?”

“I thought you’d hit me, at least.”

“I have no intention of playing princess anymore. So don’t treat me like one.”

Cutting off the conversation firmly, Seohwa then asked:

“So where are we going? If we leave through the main road, we’ll be seen.”

“I heard you gather herbs for a living. Then you must be a good rider, no?”

“…What?”

Something felt off.
Reading her expression, the man finally grinned, showing his teeth.

Seohwa turned to follow his gaze—and her face crumpled.

* * *

Meanwhile, Yul was running with all her might.

“Huff… Huff…!”

Since Seohwa’s house was on the far edge of Ddanggeut Village, by the time Yul reached the village entrance, she was already out of breath. The first person to spot her was Makchi, an old village man.

“Yul! What’s wrong? You look like someone’s chasing you.”

“Ajusshi!”

“Huh?”

“Hwa unni! Hwa unni—!”

Panicked, Yul could barely get the words out, pulling on his sleeve.

Seeing her so frantic, Makchi followed her without question.

“Alright! Let’s go! What’s going on, though? You need to tell me!”

“A strange man came for Hwa unni!”

“A strange man? No one passed through the village gates today… Did you see a ghost or something?”

Shaking his head, Makchi suddenly froze. In the distance, he saw smoke rising.

“Fire! That’s Hwa’s house, isn’t it?!”

Yelling in alarm, he took off running, forgetting all about Yul.

The dried reeds and thatched roofs made this the worst possible time for a fire.

“Oh no… what do we do…!”

“Ajusshi!!”

Left behind, Yul stamped her feet, clutching the bundle of herbs.

Should she go back and get more help? Or run in to save Seohwa?

Paralyzed with indecision, she finally bit her lip and ran toward the flames.

“Why are you still here?! Go back to the village and bring help! Now!”

The medicine bundle fell from her arms as she arrived too late.
The porch where Seohwa had sat, the creaky doors, the herb-scented room—everything was ablaze.

Seohwa was nowhere to be seen. Only flames surrounded them.

Yul stared at the collapsing roof in horror and cried out:

“Hwa unni!!”

Even as a child, she understood instinctively.

She would never see Seohwa again.

* * *

Because of the narrowing terrain, there was only one proper entrance into Ddanggeut Village.
Just as Makchi had said, no one had come through all day.

But if someone crossed the surrounding mountains—which were steep and full of wild animals—it wouldn’t be impossible.

That’s where Seohwa was.

[You’re not even sad? You made such a fuss building that roof. If you’re really human, at least cry.]

The Azure Dragon scolded her softly.
He didn’t say it aloud, but Seohwa found his words oddly funny.

He’s not even human—and yet criticizes her for not being human enough.

But truly, she didn’t feel a thing.
If anything lingered in her mind, it was Yul.

“Should’ve packed more medicine for her…”

She sighed. Maybe the dragon was right.

Watching the home she had built and the herbs she’d dried for years go up in smoke—and yet not shedding a single tear—perhaps something inside her had truly broken.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect the princess to come quietly like this.”

The voice behind her pulled Seohwa from her thoughts.
She turned and saw the man brushing soot off his clothes.

His casual approach, not even bothering to hide his footsteps, made her laugh dryly.

“I didn’t expect you to come capture me alone, either. Has the budget been cut since the king changed?”

The unexpected remark made the man—Ryeohwan—widen his eyes.

Because he had lifted his gat (Korean hat), Seohwa now saw his full face clearly.

“My God.”

Even half-covered, she had thought him handsome.

But now—seeing his entire face—she was speechless.

She had heard the term “flower-like man” before, but never truly understood it until now.
Staring in awe, she watched as he smiled—suddenly youthful, almost mischievous.

“The budget’s the same, unfortunately.”

“Then you must be a one-man army.”

His cold-looking eyes crinkled in amusement. His dimples were deep enough to poke a finger into.

Seohwa was too stunned to respond, missing the chance to snap back.

Truthfully, seeing him smile like that made it hard to be angry.

“Pfft! I am competent. But hey—no need to state the obvious. Still, being acknowledged by the princess feels pretty good.”

If only he hadn’t said that with such a smug face, Seohwa might have thought better of him.

But no—this was what you called a con man.

And with that, Seohwa couldn’t help but admire him once again.