WDCDF 11

Chapter 11

Despite taking the rougher route, it still took a full two days before they finally entered the capital. All that hurrying had done nothing but waste time.
Perhaps because of that, Ryeohwan—whose complexion had been worsening bit by bit—barely muttered, “We’ll talk later,” before disappearing down a side street the moment they set foot inside the city. Two men dressed entirely in black appeared from who knew where and trailed after him.

“Later,” huh…

It had all happened so fast, she hadn’t even had time to ask him anything. Standing blankly before the capital’s gates, Seohwa slowly took in her surroundings.
The massive city gates had undergone several repairs and looked quite different from what she remembered. So did the rows of street stalls and inns lining the entrance.

It was almost hard to believe this was the same place where, on the last day of Seora Kingdom, she had fled wearing a long cloak that covered her whole body. Now the streets were bursting with life. Laughter and chatter echoed from men and women of all ages going about their day.

Seohwa stood rooted to the spot, drinking in the sight.
If midday sunlight could be painted onto a canvas, it might look like this.
The capital she remembered had been filled with rage and screams, and yet, in just ten years, the world before her had changed completely.

[Hmph! They have droughts and plagues every year, and they still laugh? Ridiculous!]

At Yongyong’s scoffing, Seohwa realized where this strange feeling came from.
She herself was still standing in the world of ten years ago, but the world had already moved far ahead without her. When she finally raised her head—still clutching unsolved grudges—it was already an entirely different place.

Without thinking, she gripped the cloak in her arms tightly and took a slow breath.
Myunghak, having finished some errands, came to her side and followed her gaze, but saw nothing more than an ordinary city scene. Not understanding what had caught her attention, he simply said,

“It would be best to cover your hair.”

“Ah.”

Snapped out of her thoughts, Seohwa looked back at him. Myunghak added an explanation to her puzzled expression.

“It’s just… I didn’t know you’d been married. If someone notices your hair is put up, it could cause trouble. And… there are many here who would recognize me, which might draw unwanted attention to you…”

Unsure how to phrase it, he trailed off. Strictly speaking, Seohwa’s current status was beneath his. Who would treat the princess of a fallen kingdom with any respect? And who could even prove she was that princess when records said she was dead?

But that wasn’t the real reason Myunghak found it difficult to address her.

“…Perhaps you should wear your cloak, my lady.”

Since his liege, Ryeohwan, had called her my lady, it was only proper for him to do the same. He hesitated for a long while before saying it with a grave expression—one that looked ready to draw his sword—only to call her “my lady.”

Is he… embarrassed?

Glancing at his bright red ears, Seohwa wondered. The idea that such a boisterous man could blush just from a form of address seemed absurd.

Still, it wasn’t bad advice to cover her hair, so she unfolded her cloak and asked,

“Weren’t we going straight to the palace?”

She said it because Ryeohwan, who had dragged her here, had disappeared without a word the moment they arrived. Myunghak looked at her in shock, his expression clearly saying What, he didn’t tell you anything?
Seohwa suddenly realized she had been wrong about him—she had thought he was in on Ryeohwan’s habit of dragging her around without explanation, but in truth, it was simply Ryeohwan’s own negligence.

“I’ve heard nothing from him, as you can see.”

“What…?”

Startled, Myunghak opened his mouth, then closed it, rubbing his face with a hand as big as a pot lid. Only a beat later did it hit him that the man at fault was the king he served.

Watching the shifting expressions on his usually impassive face, Seohwa concluded his surprise was genuine. Not knowing she still distrusted him, Myunghak said apologetically,

“There are too many ears here. I’ll explain once we’re somewhere safe.”

Apologizing without having done anything wrong—too soft-hearted for someone in politics. She’d heard that high officials all kept a blade under their tongue, but clearly not all did.

Perhaps that’s why the king keeps him close.

Seohwa nodded and draped the cloak over herself. Standing beside Myunghak, she looked several years younger than her true age—enough that the two of them might be mistaken for father and daughter. The only problem was that his fine clothes contrasted sharply with her cheap silk.

“Isn’t that old Choi? So the rumor was true—he really did go to fetch an adopted daughter!”

“Look at those clothes. A man with his money should’ve dressed her better.”

Men in hats whispered when they recognized Myunghak, but Seohwa ignored them, holding her head high until they reached his home. Once the door shut with a thunk and she removed her cloak, she asked,

“Don’t tell me I’m supposed to be entering this house as your adopted daughter?”

But no answer came. Turning, she saw Myunghak’s ears were red all the way to the tips, his face about to burst.

Seohwa had met all kinds of people, but never a man well past forty, built like a mountain, blushing so hard. Flustered, she blurted out,

“…It’s not that I dislike the idea.”

[What in the world are you saying?]

Cheongryong’s incredulous voice came at once, his tail thumping her shoulder.

“You’re here? Oh my!”

Just as Seohwa was about to retort, a cheerful voice rang out from the doorway. She realized she’d been standing there talking without entering. The servant who had opened the door tilted his head in confusion.

Seohwa stepped into the courtyard and turned her head—only to see a middle-aged woman with a warm face. Loose strands of hair swayed in the breeze, having escaped from the neat bun she’d hurriedly put up. Wiping her damp hands on a white apron, she broke into a radiant smile upon seeing Seohwa.

“Goodness! Such a lovely young lady! I’ve heard all about you. Survived the plague all on your own, didn’t you? Honestly, this man never talks about himself, so I had no idea he had such a beautiful niece!”

With a sigh, Okim shot Myunghak a fondly reproachful look. He coughed and turned his head aside, clearly having failed to explain things properly. Still… niece?

We don’t even look alike. And people believe it?

Glancing sidelong at the man edging away, Seohwa gave an awkward smile. The woman—still holding her hand—suddenly looked around in puzzlement.

“But where’s your luggage?”

“I told her to bring nothing, in case the plague lingered on her belongings,” Myunghak answered smoothly, without giving Seohwa a chance to speak.

She stared at him blankly, wondering if he really expected her to play along when he hadn’t told her a thing.

But before she could sigh, the woman’s expression sharpened.

“So you made her come with nothing?”

Both Seohwa and Myunghak jumped—he because he didn’t understand why he was being scolded, and she because she didn’t see the big deal about empty hands.

“Well, if the plague spread here it’d be dangerous, and you’re not in good health…”

Flustered, he trailed off as the woman brushed him aside and put an arm around Seohwa’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, dear. You must have had things that were hard to part with. My husband can be so thoughtless. I’ve prepared some things you might need—come have a look.”

“My lady…? My lady?” Myunghak tried, but she cut him off without even turning.

“It’s still early afternoon. You should head to the palace.”

The coldness in her voice left him speechless. Shoulders drooping, he left without a word.

“It’s only because my health is poor—don’t think too badly of him.”

Still watching his back until the gate blocked her view, Seohwa turned toward the woman’s gentle whisper. She realized the woman, too, had been watching him leave. Their eyes met in the air, and the woman smiled warmly.

The sunlight on a bright afternoon—that’s what she reminded Seohwa of.

“Oh, listen to me. Have you eaten lunch yet?”

The gentle concern in her voice made Seohwa smile without even realizing it.