Chapter 7
Under the black muslin blindfold, Yeo-ro kept her eyes closed.
It wasn’t because of the men’s harsh warnings not to misbehave. She was trying to memorize the unfamiliar path by listening—relying on sound and scent, since she couldn’t rely on sight outside the palace.
Beyond the lazy lowing of oxen came the clanging sound of metal being struck. The acrid smell of something burning followed, along with the popping crackle of fire.
From the trickling stream came a metallic tang—like the scent of iron. And then, when the darkness behind her blindfold seemed to deepen, a wave of rich food aromas teased her nose.
“Your Highness…”
Yeo-ro gently hugged the sniffling Yu-so’s trembling shoulders.
“Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry, Yu-so.”
But Yeo-ro’s own eyes were dark and empty.
If mercy could save them, she would beg for it without hesitation. But not everyone possesses mercy—and it wasn’t something one could demand.
“Yu-so, listen carefully. This place… I think it’s an inn in the central area where all the forges are gathered. If they untie your hands and feet—run. You might actually get away.”
Yu-so shook her head, resting her forehead on Yeo-ro’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to be alone. I can’t do it.”
Her childish sobbing broke Yeo-ro’s heart.
Thinking back, the patient she had examined earlier must be the reason behind this entire commotion.
The wagon carrying the two girls, who huddled tightly together, came to a sudden halt.
The scent of food was now mixed with alcohol. Yeo-ro, clutching Yu-so tightly, shouted:
“Please spare us!”
A rough hand grabbed her arm. Her sleeve was sticky with Yu-so’s tears.
Yu-so screamed and cried as they were forcibly separated, and Yeo-ro’s own eyes welled up with tears she could no longer hold back.
“If it was a mistake to examine the patient with my unskilled hands, then the fault is mine alone. Please… please let the child go…”
It was almost a blessing that her eyes were still covered. The disgust and hatred in the eyes of the people from Geonryeong were intense—far beyond mere disdain.
Yeo-ro staggered, nearly collapsing several times under the strong grip that dragged her along. Pebbles scattered under her feet.
The door to a guest room creaked open, and the damp air inside stifled Yeo-ro’s voice.
“S-so, as I was saying—”
Before she could finish, she was shoved inside and collapsed weakly.
Her knees thudded softly against the floor. What if she tore off her blindfold now and made a break for it? If she abandoned Yu-so and ran…
No, Yeo-ro was certain she couldn’t do that.
Yu-so wasn’t the only one starved for affection.
The child who brought laughter to the Cold Palace… that child might be even more precious than Yeo-ro herself, hidden behind the title of princess.
“So please… save that child…”
Sobbing, Yeo-ro crawled on the floor.
Splinters from the wooden floor dug into the nails of hands worn from tilling earth. As she tried to rise, she disturbed a puddle of standing water.
She held her breath and waited.
Then—splash—a wet foot stepped on the floor.
The sound of water droplets falling moved quickly toward her.
Rustle. Cloth brushed against cloth.
“…Noisy.”
A harsh voice, like it was scraping against her throat.
Chills shot down Yeo-ro’s spine. Even without seeing him, the oppressive presence soaked into her skin and blood—it told her all she needed to know.
This man has no intention of letting me live.
Terrified, she held her breath. Someone’s breath—not hers—blew against her lips.
A strong clove scent lingered in the air.
Clove… used to restore vitality. It meant the man’s energy had recently waned, or his health had declined.
Clinging to that scent, Yeo-ro searched desperately for a way to survive.
“They should’ve gagged your mouth, not just blindfolded you. Su-oh is far too kind, isn’t he?”
The man lifted Yeo-ro’s chin with his fingers as she trembled.
She couldn’t see him, but she could sense the smirk twisting on his lips.
She tried to avoid his touch, and in the process, the knot tying her blindfold came loose.
As light seeped through the gap, the man’s features became faintly visible.
“Ah…”
Yeo-ro quickly looked away, unable to meet his soot-black eyes.
The man deliberately lowered himself to inspect her more closely as she cowered.
Water clung to her hair and dripped down her chin to her shoulders.
“Look at me. If you don’t want to regret it.”
Each word was heavy—oppressive, as if crushing her chest.
It would not have been strange if her breath had stopped right then.
When Yeo-ro finally raised her trembling lashes, moisture shimmered beneath her clear eyes.
The man stared at her for a long moment before finally releasing her face.
Wiping the warm droplets from her cheek, she steadied herself.
“She’s useless. This girl won’t do anything. Su-oh!”
He seemed angry—or perhaps simply defeated.
“Su-oh…!”
In the humid air, the man gasped and rasped.
“Where are you, Su-oh?!”
He shouted as if expelling all the rage in his chest.
Yeo-ro clamped her hands over her ears, frightened by the outburst.
His glare paused on her for a moment, then dropped again—his expression empty. At that moment, his eyes, like water-beaded glass, flickered.
So this is a test, from the gods, Yeo-ro thought. To see if I can find a way to survive.
Then I’ll show you—I’ll survive again.
She reached out her pale, trembling hand and grabbed the hem of his robe.
Water trickled from the soaked fabric where she held on.
“What?”
He tried to shake her off, but she gritted her teeth and clung tighter.
Her wet, shining eyes met his as she said:
“You will soon cough up blood. You’re going to hover near death.”
“Oh? Cursing me now? Should I cut out that little tongue of yours?”
Yeo-ro knew this man didn’t say things he didn’t mean.
But she didn’t let go. Because she knew—if she said the right thing, he might let Yu-so go.
She took a deep breath.
“I… I can…”
You know this. When you see light in the darkness, that’s the way out. Don’t hesitate.
“I can save you!”
The man paused, frozen by her cry.
The tension in his silk robe grew taut. Part of his bare shoulder showed, water dripping down his defined abdomen.
“I am skilled with poisons—especially those derived from plants. If you let me… I can help you.”
Yeo-ro looked up at him with teary, pleading eyes.
“Hah…”
He exhaled, his lip curling into a smirk. The clove-scented breath blew against her face again.
“You…”
He reached out his large hand, and heat brushed her cheek.
Was this what it was like to hold a flame in your chest?
Yeo-ro’s breath hitched.
“You think you can save me…? Even the doctors here couldn’t figure it out.”
And you’re just a girl.
“I am not so childish as to make light of a bargain with life on the line. I will save you. And in return…”
Yeo-ro released his robe and knelt properly, her posture composed.
“Will you spare us?”
“How can your pitiful little life equal mine…”
“To the living, yes. Life may be heavy or light. But surely… the place we die cannot be all that different. If you refuse my remedy… then both of us will die, together.”
The man chuckled, his shoulders shaking. Then—cough!—he hacked violently, catching a mouthful of dark, clotted blood in his hand.
He smiled bitterly, meeting Yeo-ro’s gaze.
Yeo-ro rushed forward and embraced him around the neck—before he could push her away, she pressed a pressure point at the base of his neck.
He groaned, his eyes fluttering.
Her body smelled like freshly crushed fruit, her skin soft and warm.
He could breathe—finally.
As he suppressed the blood in his throat, he asked:
“Fine. Tell me. What poison is killing me?”
Yeo-ro pulled back gently, eyes on his bloodied lips.
She tugged at his sleeve and wiped his mouth carefully.
“You’re mistaken.”
“Mistaken?”
“…What’s choking your breath isn’t poison at all.”
Her voice was calm and firm. The man, unknowingly, clenched her slender wrist.
This was a place of both life and death. And he, sensing life, chose to hold the young girl in his arms.
