No way there’d be more visitors today, right? I stepped into my quarters warily. Thankfully, it was just as quiet as usual. Though there was one unfamiliar basket sitting boldly atop the low table.
Just then, Hyangah returned with water for my bath. She wiped her wet hands on her clothes and said,
“Oh, just a bit ago, a maid serving Young Lady Sohae dropped that off. Said it was a gift of apology, and begged you to accept it.”
“Apology? It’s not even apple season.”
“No, my lady, she meant it as an apology, not actual apples. Have you been training too hard? Your ears seem a little… shall I brew some tonic?”
Tonic? Hell no.
“Don’t need it! And that’s not the point—she has nothing to apologize to me for, so… oh, whatever. There’s a letter here too.”
I picked up the letter lying on the silk-draped basket. The writing was neat, tiny, and precise, perfectly arranged.
Sister, it is Sohae.
I merely shared a few small thoughts — there was nothing special in my exchange with Young Hero Dang, so please do not hold any anger toward me. Surely he was only pleased to see me again after so long.
You cannot know how much my heart ached watching you walk away. It pains me deeply to think I’ve wounded someone who is like my own sister.
I send this humble gift, hoping you might kindly forgive your foolish younger sister.
Only then did I remember running into Moyong Sohae that morning. I hadn’t thought a damn thing about it. Everyone else must spend so much time fretting over this crap. Even highborn ladies of great clans clearly have their own headaches.
I pulled away the silk covering the basket. It was filled to the brim with greenish tangerines, not yet fully ripened. I didn’t need to taste one to imagine how sour they’d be. My mouth watered anyway.
Hyangah, who’d been peeking over curiously, darted forward, snatched up the letter I’d set down, and scanned it.
“My lady, did you perhaps scold Young Lady Sohae harshly?”
“Me? Not at all.”
Hyangah clicked her tongue knowingly and scowled.
“Anyone reading this letter would think you were wildly jealous. It’s so irritating.”
“Who’s going to see it?”
“I just saw it! And the maid who delivered this probably did too.”
Oh. Didn’t really matter to me. But I guess other people live their lives actually caring about appearances.
Hyangah let out an exasperated huff, then hefted up the basket with rough hands, declaring she’d feed it to the pigs. I quickly stopped her and grabbed it back.
“Why waste this on pigs? Tangerines are valuable fruit.”
“How are you going to eat something this sour? Besides, don’t you see the insult here? Sending deliberately unripe fruit—it’s like she’s mocking you, saying ‘oh, did you get jealous?’ (Reference: in old Chinese tales, vinegar or sourness is tied to jealousy — the phrase ‘eating vinegar’ comes from a Tang dynasty story.)”
She thumped her chest like she was suffocating.
I just stared blankly at the pile of tangerines in front of me. They looked fresh, shiny, completely free of blemishes. The supposed insult was just speculation anyway. Food itself was blameless.
Maybe Hyangah was right. Or maybe not. Either way, I couldn’t care less about Dang Iheon, so it didn’t sting.
I made up my mind after some thought.
“I won’t eat them yet. I’ll wait until they start to yellow, then pick the ripest ones.”
Hyangah groaned and massaged her temples.
That night, ignoring her protests, I wrote a reply.
Thanks for the tangerines. Going to buy clothes tomorrow between 1 and 3. Let me know if you’re coming.
***
Moyong Sohae responded through a servant, overjoyed. When the hour came, she arrived leisurely at my quarters. The first thing she did was ask if I’d received the gift well. I suddenly remembered everything Hyangah had ranted about yesterday, but still answered honestly.
“Yeah, received it just fine. It was very generous.”
“I’m so pleased you’re pleased. Your happiness is truly my happiness!”
How the hell does she say such sappy shit with a straight face?
I looked at her lovely face, remembering Hyangah’s warnings. She didn’t seem the least bit scheming. Not even a glimmer.
“Thanks. I’ll enjoy them.”
I went with the safest line possible. Sohae bit her lip briefly, then smiled and nodded.
No reason to stand around, so I was about to suggest we head out — when I stopped dead. Something caught in my sight.
I’d thought we’d just go casually into the marketplace, keep it simple. But—
“Is that… a palanquin?”
Coming from the direction Sohae had appeared was an enormous, gaudy palanquin. Big enough to seat four people, carried by six men.
I just stared dumbly. Sohae gave me a radiant smile.
“I had a slightly larger palanquin prepared since I’d be going with you, sister. If it were just me, a single-seater would do, but I worried it might be cramped for you.”
That thing looked roomy enough to lie down and nap.
Staring at the ridiculous palanquin, I couldn’t help blurting out my honest thoughts.
“Isn’t that a bit much?”
Sohae’s face stiffened. Even I could tell I’d stepped wrong. Not that I cared — my opinion remained unchanged. But I added,
“Not saying you did anything wrong. Just seems… kinda pointless.”
God. Look at me, growing more like these orthodox clan people with their tact. Weirdly proud, a little bitter.
Her expression only grew darker. Lowering her eyes, Moyong Sohae spoke in a fragile voice.
“So you’re still angry after all. I was just so excited…”
“Huh? I’m not angry.”
“I didn’t realize I’d done something so terribly wrong. Please, forgive your foolish sister…”
She was actually tearing up. How the hell did she know I was weak to crying? I quickly shook my head.
“Forgive! Forgiven. I forgive you, okay?”
But with a sad glance, she shook her head.
“Lies. I can tell you’re only saying that.”
“What is even the problem?”
“See? You’ve never spoken so coldly to me before.”
Fantastic. Now we had the bizarre spectacle of someone tearfully begging forgiveness from a person who wasn’t even mad.
Hyangah looked like she’d rather die, opening her mouth a few times to interject, then wisely deciding against it. She wasn’t in a position to cut in.
Roughly a thousand years (or so it felt) passed like that.
“Good, you haven’t left yet.”
“We timed it perfectly.”
“But Yeonhwa, what’s this fuss? What’s happened here?”
A string of voices I both welcomed and dreaded rang out. Both I and Moyong Sohae turned to look. Three handsome idiots were standing there staring at me.
At first I thought maybe Sohae had decided the palanquin wasn’t enough and called in reinforcements. But judging by her surprise, that wasn’t it.
Well, at least it stopped this unwanted apology circus. I asked,
“What?”
The second brother, Moyong Cheon, strode up with a beaming grin, looking down like he might explode from fondness.
“Happened to overhear the servants. You’re going shopping for clothes with Sohae, yes?”
“Yeah. And?”
“How could you leave your brothers out? Do you know how dangerous it is out there?”
These pampered hothouse flowers saying that to someone who spent their whole life out there. I snorted inwardly.
Then Moyong Muhyeok stepped up, grave as ever.
“Even with guards, it could be dangerous. It’s best we accompany you. Especially since your body only recently recovered.”
“That was ages ago.”
“It’s also been long since we’ve walked the market with you.”
“Must we?”
The three of them practically formed a wall around me, buzzing non-stop. It was like they’d forgotten Sohae even existed.
God, piss off! I thought you’d finally chilled out a bit — and here we were again.
I shot Sohae a glance through the wall of idiots. Thankfully she’d stopped crying, though her eyes looked… colder.
I let out a long sigh and started shoving them away. If they’d resisted even slightly, they wouldn’t have budged — but they all let me push them, docile as sheep.
“Have a little dignity. Our cousin’s standing right there.”
“She’s not our cousin, she’s a second cousin… wait, more importantly, dignity? How could you say such a hurtful thing?”
They all looked wounded. Moyong Muhyeok in particular seemed deeply shocked. Honestly, when would someone of his stature ever hear words like that?
I spoke politely.
“No thanks on the escort. But if you’ve got your money pouches, hand them over.”
“Why? Are you short on money?”
“Can’t hurt to have more.”
“Our Yeonhwa even has a gift for managing money. A born merchant.”
Moyong Cheon looked delighted. These men were insane.
Except — they didn’t actually hand over a single coin. They just greeted Sohae politely, then prepared to come along.
They were determined to tag along. Like damn leeches.
I finally shouted,
“Enough! You’re driving me nuts. I’ll take one of you. Figure it out and let me know.”
They all blinked at me, then huddled in a corner, whispering fiercely. I couldn’t hear the words, but it looked intense.
The winner was Moyong Muhyeok. Probably threw his Young Master weight around.
The other two drooped, offering repeated goodbyes, then wandered off. Their backs radiated regret, but I ignored it.
At least I’d peeled off two. Still way more people than I’d planned.
Even Sahyeon was among the bustling group getting ready. Our eyes met, and he winked like he had an eye infection. I nearly spat on the ground, then just jerked my head away.
Meanwhile Moyong Sohae just stood there. Like… a very fancy sack of barley. Sure, a pretty one.
Somehow, I ended up being the one to smooth it over.
“Sorry we’re late. My worthless brothers held us up. Since it’s come to this, I’ll have them swap the palanquin for a single-seater.”
“May I ask why?”
Her voice sounded a bit dimmer. I answered honestly.
“Can’t let my muscles slack off. I’m walking.”
“Ah… you’re truly serious about your training.”
“Of course. You should do a little physical training too.”
Sohae smiled sweetly, thanking me for the advice. Not that she’d actually go train. People never do. It’s how we’re built.
Then she suddenly said,
“With you saying that, how could I ride the palanquin? I’ll walk too.”
“Huh? Really?”
“Yes. Since your words were for my sake.”
Wow, she’s surprisingly compliant. I nodded.
Honestly, I’m the one who needs the exercise. She doesn’t have to, but… if she insists. It’s good for her health.
So we ended up with a ridiculously large market excursion party. At this point, we were going to be the biggest spectacle there. Oh well. No time to fight off all these barnacles.
Moyong Muhyeok, Moyong Sohae, Sohae’s six maids, Hyangah, Sahyeon, and me. I had to count occasionally to keep track. It was so absurd I burst out laughing by myself.
Once, I’d always preferred going alone for anything private. And now look at me.
