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To those who have dared to be a beacon of light in the bleakest of moments
Nonchalantly,
Frfr
“Focus,”
“You will not always be the wisest, nor the strongest, nor the bravest. That is why we need friends. They will guide you down the right path, no matter how dark it grows.”
We are all taxed beyond our means;
A hand touched my shoulder. I whirled around. My knife hovered before his throat as I stared up into what felt like the endless night, for his expression was just as dark and impenetrable.
A rider trotted forward, and the torchlight illuminated a delicate face, the high cheekbones littered with cuts from riding through the woods, a pair of distrustful eyes, and windswept hair. She sat straight, her chin raised, bearing the aura of an empress riding into war.
“You will have to trust me.” Trust him? Did he think me a fool?
“Surely you do not expect me to sleep here with you,” I remarked, casting him a swift glance. His unease was evident as well. “I wouldn’t dare shut my eyes in your company,” he muttered, “lest you attack me with your blade—or rock.”
Daehyun stilled, then looked back at me, and we held each other’s gaze for the barest moment.
“History moves its course, Young Mistress Iseul,” he murmured, flipping the page of his journal. He took up his calligraphy brush again. “But it is the youth who point the current in its direction.”
“You look like a vengeful ghost,” he murmured, adjusting the seat. “And you are the sort I would furiously haunt for all eternity,” Iseul retorted.
A strange sensation stirred in his chest as he held her gaze. Then he quickly looked away and spoke no more to her for the rest of their journey.
“Do not expect me to share what I know if you have no intention of even trying to find it for yourself. Such people, I have observed, have no genuine interest in the truth.”
“The ability to exercise your judgment is invaluable, especially during times when anxiety threatens to sweep you into a current of indecisions and dangerous conclusions.”
“Perhaps that is why my heart goes to Iseul,” he murmured, snapping up Daehyun’s attention. “She is alone, as I am. She may look unafraid, but truly, when I first met her, I thought to myself, ‘Here is the loneliest girl I have ever seen.’”
The truth reminded me of that crane; the truth was strong. It held the courage to strike out, no matter how ferocious the oppression.
“If you agree to this, you must understand that you are entangling yourself in a perilous game. Wonsik asked that I emphasize this warning to you. Once you agree to this, there can be no turning back.”
Daehyun slid his hand beneath my veil; my mind went quiet. His hands brushed up the length of my arms, up the column of my throat, past the loosely tied veil ribbon, until he was cupping my face. He leaned in. His lashes dropped, his stare on my mouth, sending a jolt of tingles that curled my toes. For what seemed like a lifetime, we remained still, us two, inhaling and exhaling inches from each other.
“The path we are to take will be littered with death. Freedom will always come at a cost.”
I whirled around at the male voice, my heart quickening at the sight of Daehyun. He stood tall, his complexion as ethereal as moonlight, accentuated by dark and stern eyebrows.
Iseul abruptly reached for her neck. “I think you need this more than me. Here.” She untied a necklace holding a double ring—a garakji, likely her mother’s. “Consider this a talisman of sorts that will protect you.” Hesitating, he finally accepted the trinket. “You are superstitious.” “One must believe in something. And when the Great Event is over, and the kingdom rises anew, you must return and give that ring back to me. You had better, or I truly shall haunt you for all of eternity.”
I hurried after him, the swordsman of enormous stature, yet his expression ever reminded me of a mother hen. He had adopted into his circle of care all these feral children,
There was not space enough for two, so we became one. His arms melded around my back, and I buried my cheek against his torso, our hearts thundering—agonizing—against each other.
A sob escaped my throat as I tripped over him and landed on my knees.
Slamming past his shoulder, I stalked away, and though remorse pricked at me, I did not turn back. I left him behind, just as I had left Suyeon the day of our last fight.
“I swear,” he whispered in a low voice, as though to himself, “the next person to harm you will die by my own hands.” I stopped fiddling with the binding material, unsure that I’d heard him right. “I beg your pardon?”
As though seeing him for the first time, I noticed the little details: the shape of his lips, the small and faint scar nicking his right cheek, his luminous dark eyes that yielded under my gaze, revealing the emotions that flickered by, from desire to desire.
Beware, a haunting whisper echoed in my ear. Those you hold dear always die in the end. And he will surely die.
He offered me a wry smile. “What does it matter what I wish?” he said quietly, striding up and brushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You said no, and I will receive your word as a royal command.”
Focus, he urged himself. Focus.
I'm focusedd
“Come,” he whispered, “sit by my side.” “Stop looking at me like that.” “Like what?” My heart knotted painfully, but I managed to say in a light-hearted tone, “As though you care.”
“I overheard a conversation, daegam,” Yul said, her voice shaking. “Nameless Flower has struck again.” She placed a hand over her throat, as if to calm herself. “Iseul’s uncle is dead.”
Daehyun came into focus—the dark slashes of his brows, the aquiline nose crooked ever so slightly to the right, and lips that had thinned into tense lines.
“I will not dissuade you. But whenever you are in need,” he whispered, his lips close to my ear, “do not hesitate to send a message my way. I will go to where you are, wherever that might be.”
I stepped forward, but Daehyun’s hand clung to mine, to the tips of my fingers, holding me to the very end when the current of my decision swept me away. To Suyeon I would go. To the girl I had once resented. To the girl I had always loved.
“You must change the heavens. So go, daegam. Go and move the heavens for her.”
All I could do was hold Suyeon’s hand. “It will happen, Older Sister,” the words burned in my throat. It must.
And there was one question that was asked over and over. “Are you certain, deputy commander, that the king will vacate the capital tomorrow? Are you certain, absolutely certain, that he will leave for Kaesong City?” “We chose the eighteenth for this very reason,” the deputy reassured the men each time. “The capital will be empty for our taking.”
“Hwang Iseul,” his voice rasped, his hands gripping tight onto my skirt, “if by any chance we do not meet again in this lifetime, then I will find you in the next—or as many lifetimes as it takes to see you again.”
“So long as you live, we’ll have the rest of our lives to find each other again. And I will find you again. I promise.”
It came too fast. The whistling sound. The glinting arrowhead, and suddenly, Daehyun stepped before me with lightning-like quickness.
The prince had stood before me moments ago. I had held his hand. He had whispered my name. And now he was gone.
My Daehyun. Dead.
We mortals exist for but a season, and yet we love as though we are bound by eternity.
No true love awaited me. Mine had already been found, only to be lost just as quickly.
Life has been and will always be painful and lonely, and the only way to make this life endurable is that we all work together, for each other.
“Do not leave, Daehyun-gun. And do not die again.”
“Kyung-ah.”
To Jeju, I would go. To the island of rock and wind and strife. It would not be the life I had envisioned for myself, but I felt no fear. Life had taken me to strange and frightening places before, and even in my darkest and loneliest hour, I had always found treasures hidden in the deep. And I knew I would find them again.
