First Outing (4)
“Milady!”
Not long after I'd asked Jeongi to track down the man who'd been roughed up over that misunderstanding, Hwaya's frantic voice rang out from nearby. The rapid patter of footsteps drew steadily closer. She must have been in a total panic, not finding her precious lady at the promised meeting spot. It was all my fault for letting curiosity get the better of me and dashing into the alley like that—nothing but trouble.
“Milady, why are you in a place like this…?”
Hwaya's voice came close as she caught her breath. Only then did her face come into view, a mix of shock and relief washing over it.
“…Are you unwell anywhere? Hmm?”
Her worried tone probed my condition as she cautiously reached out, her fingers gently combing through my hair. I could feel her tidying the strands that must have gotten mussed from all the running. If I kept my head bowed without a word, it'd only worry her more, so I lifted it carefully. But my throat felt clogged, words refusing to come, so I just looked up at her and gave a small shake of my head.
“You're really okay? You have to tell me if even the slightest thing feels off.”
Not satisfied, she asked again, and I nodded in place of words. It wasn't perfect, but at least I was safe—that seemed to ease her. The tension drained from her stiffened face bit by bit, her shoulders dropping slightly. But the change didn't last.
The moment her gaze shifted to Jeongi standing behind me, her soft expression hardened in an instant. Her lips, which had been relaxing, pressed into a thin line, a chill settling in her eyes. The hand on my hair stilled. Then Hwaya slowly rose to her feet.
She strode straight toward Jeongi.
“Didn't I tell you to look after Milady properly?”
“You did.”
“And this is your idea of 'properly'? I brought you along because Milady trusted you most of all.”
With a cold edge to her voice I'd never heard before, she began berating him. Why was she chewing out Jeongi? I'd been the one acting on my own. I'd caused the problem—why blame someone else when I was right here?
“Hwaya. That's enough.”
I forced open my tightly shut mouth, my voice hoarse from all the crying—it sounded pitiful even to me.
“It's a relief Milady's safe. But what if you'd run into some thug waving a knife in a back alley, or a wild-eyed vagrant? What then?”
“Nothing would have happened.”
Even so, Hwaya didn't soften. If anything, she glared harder, raising her voice. Was stepping away just long enough to enter this alley really worth her getting this angry, enough that she hadn't even heard me? She could've just scolded me for going somewhere dangerous and called it a day. But against my hopes, she kept laying into Jeongi.
“Ha! If you wanted nothing to happen, you should've prevented it from the start. Does this look like 'nothing happened' to you?”
“I have no excuse.”
“If something had happened to our lady, whose health is still fragile, do you think your apologies would fix it? Right here, right now…”
My stomach churned.
“Stop! Please, just stop!”
I grabbed her hand and shouted as loud as I could to cut her off. Even the icy Hwaya paused, turning to me.
“I ran off on my own. So please, stop.”
I begged her not to drag an innocent person into my mess. I knew how filthy that felt all too well, tugging lightly at her hand as I spoke. I'd take the scolding, the punishment, the reflection—myself.
“I'm sorry, Milady.”
But her response was unexpected.
“I can't do that.”
A flat refusal I hadn't anticipated.
“I failed in my duty, so of course I deserve the reprimand and fitting punishment.”
“But I was the one who suddenly…”
“No.”
For the first time since possessing this body, Hwaya cut me off. She'd never accepted my views before, but she'd always heard me out—this time, she sliced through firmly and pressed on.
“Milady did nothing wrong. It's all this disloyal fool's fault.”
Her tone stayed as warm and gentle as ever, but her eyes were utterly chilling. She felt like a stranger, not the Hwaya I knew.
“No matter what Milady does, you should have looked after her properly.”
She took a step closer.
“You should have kept Milady from ever setting foot in a place like this.”
I instinctively stepped back. She advanced another step. Her direct gaze felt like it was commanding me not to run.
“At the very least, you should have turned a blind eye and played dumb like nothing happened. Since you didn't, it's his failing.”
“But…”
“That's Milady's position.”
My breath caught, words failing me. Milady's position. The phrase spun in my head over and over. No matter what I did, the fault fell on those below me. If I bolted, Jeongi got reamed; if I went somewhere dangerous, Hwaya took the blame. That was natural for the lady of the house, for Fox Lady Ryu Sua.
A loyal servant's blunt words to a protagonist oblivious to class differences. It felt so clichéd. You know the scene: the naive lead hears that line, has an epiphany about their mindset, then boldly tells the advisor, “Then stop, like I said.” Or it lays the foundation for vowing to live as this possessed character from now on. I'd seen it a million times— so predictable.
If I wanted, I could spit out some fitting line or action right now. But instead, I took another step back.
“Yes… I'm sorry.”
I slowly released Hwaya's hand. The fire in my voice from trying to stop her was gone; it came out weak and defeated.
“I get what you're saying, Hwaya. My mind's not all there yet, and I was too careless.”
I was still basking in the goodwill meant for Ryu Sua without mustering the resolve to live as her—a cowardly wretch.
“But… I'm just so exhausted right now… so, um… can we head back for now?”
I just wanted this over. Going back like this, I knew Jeongi would get the rest of his dressing-down at the estate. Stepping in changed nothing; it just wouldn't happen in front of me. So I backed down. Defied Hwaya? No. Endorsed her? Not quite.
“Can we go back first…?”
I dodged the choice, let the chance slip. I had no idea what a “Ryu Sua” answer would be. Failing to give what I thought was right scared me less than them seeing me as not Ryu Sua.
“…”
Hwaya's sunset-orange eyes gazed at me wordlessly, as if pleading something. Her tightly shut lips seemed ready to part and speak—but she just straightened my disheveled clothes.
“Milady. Shall we head back a bit early, then?”
As she tied my sash, I nodded silently in answer. She looked like she wanted to say more, lips twitching, but just gave a soft smile and took my hand gently, leading me away without a word.
That wordless smile pierced my heart like ice. I looked ready to collapse and sob any second. It was a stranger's expression, one I'd never seen in our short time together. Yet a strange conviction filled my chest.
But I followed her in silence. Every choice I'd made today had ended badly. This time, I averted my eyes from that conviction in my heart.
The wordless path back to the estate felt strangely endless.
The alley fell completely silent after the three of us left. Footsteps and vendors' chatter faded into the distance, the once-bustling spot returning to its usual quiet.
Then.
From under the weathered eaves at the alley's entrance, a figure slowly detached itself. The man with the wooden placard. He glanced at where we'd stood moments ago, stroking his chin thoughtfully. After pondering there for a while, he turned his gaze toward the direction we'd gone.
“…Strange.”
His low mutter was soft enough to be lost on the wind. He lowered his eyes briefly, as if chewing over his thoughts.
“I figured she'd be a total airhead by now… but she's holding up better than expected.”
Murmuring to himself where no one could hear, he quietly slipped out of the alley.