WDCDF 06

Chapter 6

It was as if he hadn’t expected such a question—he stared at Seohwa with a surprised expression, then gave a crooked smile and replied.

“You’re asking about my rank, not my name?”

“What would I do with your name?”

“Ha. Asking about the rank of someone whose name you don’t even know—isn’t that a bit blatant?”

“Blatant? What are you talking about?”

“If you ask about a man’s rank before even exchanging names, it means you’re judging his family background. If you’re interested in me, then…”

Ryeohwan drew out the end of his sentence and smiled slyly. He grinned like some street ruffian, yet his refined looks made the contrast oddly picturesque. There’s a saying that you can’t spit on a smiling face, but right now, she felt like she could slap him at least once. Maybe twice.
Just as Seohwa was thinking that, she noticed a red aura drifting around Ryeohwan and her eyes widened.

“What’s wrong?”

Seeing her startled expression, Ryeohwan tilted his head and asked. But Seohwa couldn’t answer. The red, mist-like thing was seeping from him, flowing toward her—like water running downhill.

What is that?

It was the first time she had seen something like this. She could vaguely understand why Yongyong had called Ryeohwan “fire.” Though it looked like mist, she was certain—just as the Azure Dragon had said—that it was fire.

Following her gaze, Ryeohwan narrowed his eyes. Then, like a man casually cleaning up after a disobedient child, he waved his hand. The flames vanished from her sight in an instant. It had happened so quickly—and without her eyes fixed on him—that she didn’t realize he had done something. Blinking in surprise, she heard him speak again.

“This is disappointing.”

Only then did Seohwa remember she wasn’t alone in the room. She turned to see Ryeohwan leaning on the table with his chin propped in one hand. He was smiling, but it felt almost like he was angry. She knew it was meaningless to assume she could read the expression of a man she’d met only today, yet that’s just the feeling she got.

“Disappointing?”

“Yes. It’s like you’re daydreaming in front of such a fine man. Were you thinking about your husband?”

At that smile—one that could make both men and women admire him—Seohwa came to a firm conclusion: dealing with a madman was a losing game.

Expressionless, she rose from her seat. If she were still a noble family’s young lady, she might have just kept silent, eyes darting about, waiting for the man to leave. But she hadn’t been one for a long time, so she simply tilted her head and said:

“I have to leave early in the morning, so I’d appreciate it if you could step out, young master.”

It was an unmistakable dismissal.

* *

The moon was hidden by clouds that night. It was late enough that you could barely see a hand in front of your face.
A horse approached the inn, snorting in the cold. The rider—dressed in jet-black martial attire darker than the night—dismounted before the animal had even fully stopped.

A young boy, awake to receive late-night guests, rushed outside. The man—Myeonghak—handed the boy some coins and the reins, then stepped into the inn without hesitation.

As he looked around the quiet building, the boy hurried after him.

“All we have left to eat is some cold porridge, but there are rooms available. What would you like to do?”

The boy, eyes heavy with sleep, looked barely into his teens. Myeonghak regarded him with some approval and asked:

“Forget the food. Did a man named Hwan take a room here today?”

“Hwan… Hwan… Ah, yes. He took two rooms with a lady. Is he your companion? Should I go tell him you’ve arrived?”

From the flashy brocade-wearing Ryeohwan earlier in the evening to this new arrival in expensive martial garb, the boy cleverly guessed both men must be of high status. He straightened his posture and spoke more respectfully.

Myeonghak fished out another coin and handed it over.

“I’ll tell him myself. Just show me the way.”

Nodding, the boy led toward the stairs—but just as they were about to go up, a voice with a hint of amusement drifted down from the second-floor railing.

“I thought it was about time you showed up. Lucky to bump into you like this.”

“Y–Young master!”

Leaning casually against the railing, Ryeohwan smirked at Myeonghak, who had just barely changed his words mid-sentence. He flicked a gold coin to the boy.

“No more guests tonight. Go get some sleep.”

Eyes wide at several months’ worth of wages, the boy bolted away, forgetting to even lock the door—likely afraid Ryeohwan would change his mind and take the coin back.

Not caring about the boy, Ryeohwan clapped Myeonghak on the shoulder. Myeonghak, who had been following the boy with his eyes, snapped back to attention and followed Ryeohwan.

“Are you all right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It just seems… things have gone too smoothly, considering the trouble you’ve had until now.”

As Myeonghak scanned the second floor, his gaze was sharp enough to cut. His hulking frame radiated such menace that no one would be surprised if he killed someone on the spot. Ryeohwan waved a hand as if to calm him.

“Relax. I’ve checked more than once—she doesn’t seem inclined to run.”

“…Even so—”

“It’s not like nothing happened.”

“What happened?”

Ryeohwan chuckled.

“Seems it’s true that the royal family of Seoraguk once contracted with the Azure Dragon. She stared right at the source of the curse… as if she could see this hideous thing.”

The effects of the medicine he’d taken earlier were nearly gone, which was why the curse now rippled freely outside his body. Normally, before it got this bad, he would have already taken another dose—because the pain, like being burned from the bones outward, was impossible to forget. In truth, he was already a bit late.

Yet, even with the curse swirling around him, Ryeohwan felt no panic.
Strange. He glanced toward the room where Seohwa was likely sleeping. Normally, the curse would seize any opportunity to devour him whole. But now? With Seohwa—more precisely, the last remaining Azure Dragon—nearby, it was… bearable.

Watching Ryeohwan clench and unclench his fist, Myeonghak asked cautiously:

“So the old woman was right?”

“…Yes. The princess really does have the Azure Dragon with her. Which means it’s very likely she can break the curse.”

It was irritating to admit, but denying it now would be ridiculous. Myeonghak seemed to think the same, but he still said carefully:

“Even so, if she’s been running for nearly ten years and followed you this easily… she must have some kind of plan.”

“Easily? No—”

Ryeohwan trailed off. Even he thought Seohwa had given in quickly—suspiciously so, for someone supposedly on the run for a decade.

“She looked more like someone thinking, ‘Well, it’s come to this.’ No—more like she thought, ‘Perfect timing.’”

“…What?”

Myeonghak frowned, but Ryeohwan just shrugged.

“Either way, she doesn’t seem like she’ll run. That’s enough. The wedding was unexpected, though.”

“Wedding?”

“Her hair was tied up, so likely. No man beside her, so she’s either widowed or separated. Given how she’s been moving around, I’d bet on the latter.”

“Doesn’t that ruin our plans?”

Ryeohwan had thought the same at first—when he’d seen her step out from behind the doorframe, socked feet marked with round calluses, grown just as the painting had depicted. Then he’d raised his gaze and been taken aback.

“Young master?”

Myeonghak called him worriedly. He feared the curse was making him lose control. Ryeohwan snapped out of it and smiled faintly.

“Plans can be changed. With the Dragon in hand, such things don’t matter.”

That boyish grin made him look years younger—perhaps because Myeonghak remembered him from back then. Feeling a lump in his throat, Myeonghak cleared it with a cough and changed the subject.

“Still, don’t forget to take your medicine.”

Ryeohwan laughed softly and obediently took out a round pill, chewing it without water. The bitter taste filled the air. Myeonghak’s expression was complicated.

“No need for that look. I’m fine. And you, of all people, should know—it’s not something I can hide.”

His cold eyes belied the lightness of his tone.