Chapter 63
"Cough! Hack! Hack!"
I'd just taken a sip of tea when I choked hard. Wiping my mouth with my sleeve, I looked at Namgung Ryu-cheong. Of all the timing...
I let out a sigh and said, "Honestly, I have no idea why you're doing this to me. Feeling guilty? Here to apologize?"
Namgung Ryu-cheong, who'd been silent, gave the tiniest nod—barely visible unless you were staring.
"Apologize for what? My injured hand?"
"Yeah."
"Just one question. Have you apologized to Lady Seo?"
"Lady Seo?"
Namgung Ryu-cheong looked puzzled, like her name had come out of nowhere. I tapped the table and continued.
"You lost to her that day."
That spar had ended ambiguously because of my injured hand. But his sword had snapped, so it counted as his defeat. I felt bad for Seo Ha-ryeong, but if he'd kept going with a broken blade, she probably would've won anyway. Still, the world saw a broken sword as defeat. Continuing a friendly match after that? It would've looked ugly.
"Shouldn't you take back all those times you looked down on her and trash-talked her?"
Namgung Ryu-cheong's eyes widened in shock, then his face twisted. He'd clearly never considered it.
"You don't think it's just about physical wounds, do you? Start by apologizing for the emotional scars your words left on her."
"That's...!"
"Am I wrong?"
I cut him off and pressed harder.
"After the poetry contest at Ja-cheong Pavilion, what did you say to her? 'Our levels don't match.' She was meeting you for the second—no, third—time that day, and you humiliated her right in front of me."
How embarrassing must that have been? She must've burst into tears from the sheer frustration.
"And you know? That was the first day you and I met."
How could anyone befriend someone who spouted nonsense like that? A normal kid might not pick up on the implications, but this was Namgung Ryu-cheong. His face flushed red, then drained pale. Seeing it, I actually felt a pang of guilt.
Did I push too hard?
But anything less, and he wouldn't bend his stubborn pride.
Still, I can't let him hang around with Yahul.
Namgung Ryu-cheong glared at the table, fists clenched, then stood abruptly.
"Fine. I'll take my leave."
I breathed a sigh of relief. His ashen face made it impossible to hurl any more harsh words. As he rose, he paused and stared at me. I tilted my head questioningly.
"...Never mind."
He turned and headed for the door. Just as he reached for it, he froze.
"And you?"
Yahul stood outside. I'd sensed his presence the whole time, but Namgung Ryu-cheong clearly hadn't—his expression hardened.
Yahul, meanwhile, smiled at him, lips curling up. I jolted.
It's exactly the same!
The same smile he'd worn back when he was about to slit my throat. Well, same person, same smile—not surprising. At least it didn't send chills down my spine anymore.
As he brushed past, Yahul said lightly, "I'll take good care of Ri-yeon, Young Master. No need to worry."
My jaw dropped. Why provoke him now? He'd just stormed out fuming—talk about pouring oil on the fire.
I yelled hastily, "Yahul! Come here."
All I could see was Namgung Ryu-cheong's back. I couldn't read his face, but the white-knuckled grip on the doorframe said enough. I watched anxiously.
Thankfully, he stepped over the threshold without a word and left. I double-checked he was gone, then turned to Yahul. His expression was back to its usual blank slate.
"Why provoke Namgung Young Master?"
Avoiding my gaze, he mumbled softly, "...I don't like him."
I opened my mouth, closed it, flapped my lips silently a few times, then muttered to myself, "Yeah, I guess I'm in no position to lecture you."
I'd provoked him too, just to chase him off. Yahul had probably overheard our whole conversation from outside. Pushing him around left a sour taste. I stared blankly at the tea Namgung Ryu-cheong had brought, feeling down.
How long was I like that? Suddenly, Yahul spoke.
"...Sorry."
"Huh?"
"I won't do it again. My bad."
He fidgeted, glancing at me nervously. What brought this on? I studied him, then said, "I won't force you to be friends. Just don't fight."
"Okay."
I gave a wry smile and turned away.
I miss Father...
The thought hit me out of nowhere.
How far have they gotten?
Everyone in the Namgung Clan was kind, and Uncle Namgung Wan was great, but still...
When Father comes, we'll head back to the Baek Ri Clan.
Then it'd be Great-Uncle, Baek Ri-myeong, the twins... The thought chased away my gloom, making life here feel pretty great.
...Or so I thought, not even half a day later.
"Ri-yeon!"
A booming voice echoed into the inner quarters. I'd been idly flipping through a book when I jumped up and rushed out.
Seo Ha-ryeong came charging across the courtyard like a wild pony. Spotting me, she leaped into my arms. I staggered from the impact and instinctively grabbed the doorframe with my injured hand.
"Ow!"
Pain shot through me like my scalp was on fire. Seo Ha-ryeong's eyes widened.
"Oh right! Sorry!"
The maid decocting medicine in the shade gasped and ran over.
"Miss!"
"What do I do? The physician—I'll fetch him!"
"No, it's fine." I gritted my teeth. "Keep it down, lower your voice."
"Huh?"
Seo Ha-ryeong glanced around and whispered.
"Where's Yahul? Why isn't he with you?"
"He stayed up all night."
"Ah."
Good—no sign of Yahul stirring. He'd stuck around till lunch, so he was probably wiped. The pain eased as we talked.
"So, what's up?"
"Oh yeah! Namgung Young Master said you sent him to me?"
"...Kinda."
Looked like he'd actually gone to apologize.
Good for them.
Maybe this would help them get along. They were childhood friends, after all.
But Seo Ha-ryeong's reaction was anything but expected.
"He shows up out of nowhere apologizing. I thought he'd lost his mind!"
"What?!"
Lost his mind...?
"Take him back!"
I stared at her in bewilderment.
"He apologized to you?"
"Yeah!"
I gestured for her to quiet down. "Didn't you say you wanted to be friends with him?"
"Yeah. I did."
...Did? Past tense felt ominous. Pouting, she huffed.
"Hmph, who cares about some guy who only knows how to swing a sword?"
"But..."
I gaped at her.
"...Didn't you say he was cool because he's strong?"
She sucked in a breath, glanced around slyly, then whisper-yelled, "No! Ri-yeon, you're cooler!"
I blinked, touching my chest. "Me?"
"Yeah!"
"Why me...?"
Then the quiet maid spoke up. "Miss, Lady Baek Ri."
I signaled Seo Ha-ryeong to hold on and turned. She continued.
"You protected the maid sister!"
"Huh?"
"The truly cool ones protect the weak!"
Her eyes sparkled as she gazed at me. "And honestly, it was so cool. Catching that broken wooden sword—bam! And you're smart too."
"Me? Smart?"
Hard to keep up with her logic.
"Yeah! You shut down Namgung Young Master with just words. Oh, and you taught her his sword weakness too! Without that, no apology. Hmph."
She crossed her arms, lips pursed. "So now Namgung Young Master sucks. No— I hate him! I don't need him! You take him, Ri-yeon! You hurt your hand; you need help."
I stared at her in disbelief, then glanced behind her—and froze. Namgung Ryu-cheong stood there, face dark, arrival unnoticed.
The maid called pityingly, "Lady Baek Ri..."
Why like that? Then it hit me. I looked at her shakily; she made a miserable face.
Awkward grin. "Namgung Young Master... how long you been there?"
Seo Ha-ryeong whipped around at his name, yelped, and dove behind me.
"Heard everything."
Namgung Ryu-cheong glanced at her hiding spot. "You hate me?"
"Ha, ha, ha."
I laughed stiffly, then decided to own it. I'd said nothing outright wrong.
"Maybe try harder next time? Your reputation's in the gutter, Young Master."
"Don't need it."
Seo Ha-ryeong, clinging to my shoulder, bellowed right in my ear, "Hmph! Don't need you either!"
Something told me life in the Namgung Clan was about to get exhausting.