Petals in the Wind
Petals swirled through the gap in the open window. Shin-wol was using the breeze to keep them from touching Yeo-won, sending them drifting back outside. Through the slightly ajar door, a single white dove poked its head in.
A white dove with violet eyes. It didn’t enter the room, merely perching on the wooden railing of the pavilion and staring intently at Shin-wol.
Shin-wol drew a thick blanket over Yeo-won’s body before rising from the bed. Only when he extended his hand did the dove finally fly inside.
It landed on his fingertip, and in the next instant its form transformed into a rolled letter. Tied to the missive with a crimson cord was a sprig of purple lilac.
[Still as distasteful in your preferences as ever.]
He let out a low, mocking laugh and took out a long pipe. Lighting it, he drew in a deep breath before unfurling the letter. The elegant handwriting was one he hadn’t seen in a long while—Cheon-sin’s.
The tone was impeccably refined and graceful, as expected of her, yet the content was anything but. As Shin-wol read, his face grew as cold and dark as the night itself.
Halfway through, the letter in his hand suddenly burst into flames and burned away without a trace.
There was no need to read the rest. The conclusion was essentially the same as what Mu-ho had delivered before.
Though the details differed slightly, his lack of interest remained unchanged.
Cheon-sin wanted him to come to the Heavenly Palace. The position of Mountain God was merely a public pretext to draw him into divine service; in truth, she had always harbored another purpose.
For the ascended fox who had become a guardian deity to stand at her side as advisor.
That advisory role was, in effect, the seat of the next Heavenly Deity.
The ultimate position every spirit yearned for. A Heavenly Deity who governed all things was incomparable to ordinary Mountain Gods.
Indeed, when Shin-wol had first encountered Yeo-won, he had intended to forcibly reclaim his marble and ascend in silence. He had even considered going to the Heavenly Palace as Cheon-sin wished, spending several centuries at her side.
But that would have been unbearably dull, wouldn’t it?
When he exhaled lazily, the entire room filled with thick smoke.
Yeo-won stirred with a soft groan at the acrid haze.
As the hazy smoke cleared, Yeo-won appeared once more—sleeping as soundly as a child. Though the fever had mostly subsided, her cheeks still carried a faint flush. Shin-wol gazed down at her and smiled quietly.
*
When Yeo-won cautiously opened her eyes, she saw walls that felt both unfamiliar and strangely familiar. She was in Shin-wol’s room. The faint sounds coming from behind her suggested he was still there.
How long was I asleep?
No matter how she rolled her eyes, it was always night here, so she couldn’t tell the time. Yeo-won held her breath, slowly closing and reopening her eyes as she recalled what had happened the previous day.
The experience of her vision going black and her mind flashing white. She had lost consciousness after countless peaks, yet he had roused her again and again with fresh stimulation, refusing to let her rest.
Even though she wasn’t allowed to faint without his permission, in the end she had completely blacked out.
Remembering the shameless cry she had let out at the very last moment brought a wave of shame so intense she couldn’t bring herself to move.
Is this how it’s supposed to be?
She had no one to compare it to. Yeo-won had never even dated properly, let alone experienced such blatant caresses. There had been people who showed interest in her over the years, but her unusual circumstances had prevented any relationship from developing.
Or… am I just naturally lewd?
Without any experience, she had no way of knowing. As Yeo-won clutched her head and groaned, a soft chuckle came from behind her. She flinched and instinctively squeezed her eyes shut.
Yeo-won swallowed a curse and slowly opened her eyes again. If he would just pretend not to notice, what would it hurt? As she cautiously sat up, she noticed something strange. The sensation of the blanket against her bare skin was far too vivid.
The moment she looked down at herself, she barely stifled a scream and yanked the blanket up to her chin.
Completely naked, without a single thread on her body, Yeo-won wrapped the blanket around herself like a panicked caterpillar. She frantically searched her memory and scanned the area around the bedding.
My pants… Shin-wol tore them off.
Even her underwear had been ripped away with them. What about her top? She’d been wearing a blouse and bra, but there wasn’t a single piece of clothing in sight.
Turning toward Shin-wol, she asked urgently.
“Where… where are my clothes?”
“The top was still fine… Never mind, could you at least give me something to wear for now?”
Yeo-won spoke with her head bowed in utter embarrassment. She had been half-naked earlier too, but being fully conscious made it completely different. When no answer came, she looked up to find him idly toying with a game piece, wearing a mischievous smile.
“……”
Yeo-won mulled over his words, then gaped in horror.
“But we already finished for today…”
“W-well, you didn’t say that, but…”
He looked at her and smiled beautifully.
At his words, all color drained from Yeo-won’s face. She was already utterly exhausted. Even now her body ached everywhere; there wasn’t a single spot that didn’t hurt. The dull throbbing between her legs was bad enough—how could he suggest doing more? And there was something else that bothered her.
The way he said she was the only one who had finished. Did that mean he had to reach his own climax to give her his spiritual energy? In that case… surely not…
At that exact moment, a large outer robe dropped in front of her, cutting off her train of thought. It was Shin-wol’s outer garment, embroidered with flame patterns.
“……”
Yeo-won narrowed her eyes and glared at him. If he was going to give her something, she wished he’d just handed her proper clothes, but she stayed quiet, afraid he might take back even the robe he’d offered. She slipped it on.
Fortunately, the robe was so large that when she tied the waist cord, it looked almost like a bathrobe.
Finally free of the blanket, Yeo-won sat awkwardly on the floor.
Now that she thought about it, there were so many things she wanted to ask, but the overwhelming intensity of what they had done had caused most of her questions to evaporate from her mind.
Shin-wol, who had been playing a game of baduk, patted the spot beside him. After a brief hesitation, Yeo-won stood and approached timidly, sitting down next to him.
She kept a small distance, but it was certainly closer than before.
When she had first seen him, Shin-wol had seemed purely terrifying. But since he hadn’t harmed her, he no longer felt quite as frightening.
Though he was still overwhelmingly difficult to deal with.
Yeo-won stole a quick glance at his profile. Behind his sculpturally perfect features stretched a landscape like something out of a painting.
It was so surreal that one might mistake it for a scene from a masterpiece.
And those eyes—transparent and clear like polished gemstones, glowing a brilliant yellow.
More noble and beautiful than the moon hanging in the sky, those eyes had struck her as breathtaking from the very first moment she saw them.
She was lost in admiration of his otherworldly beauty when he turned his gaze toward her, and their eyes met.
Shin-wol smiled gently and brushed her disheveled hair back. In that instant, her heart plummeted.
A strange sense of déjà vu washed over her, along with a suffocating tightness in her chest.
Yeo-won knew this feeling.
It was similar to what she had felt when she dreamed of Mun-a and Shin-wol. Her eyes suddenly burned with unshed tears.
Fearing she would cry if she kept facing him, she quickly lowered her head.
Then, with an awkward laugh, she roughly smoothed her own hair.
“It’s naturally curly, so it always sticks out like this.”
“What? No, that’s okay.”
Before Yeo-won could even answer, a tray appeared before her. On the wooden table sat a bowl of porridge and six different side dishes, each beautifully arranged in small bowls. It was simpler than the previous spread, yet still quite lavish.
Having set aside his game, Shin-wol leaned against the wall and watched her. It seemed he intended to observe her while she ate.
She had no appetite, but out of politeness she decided to take at least a few spoonfuls and picked up the spoon.
She scooped some porridge into her mouth and began to chew, only for her brows to suddenly furrow.
It had looked pure white, so she assumed it was plain rice porridge, but it wasn’t. An unfamiliar sweetness spread across her tongue. After swallowing, she asked.
“What kind of porridge is this?”
Tarak…? She felt like she had heard the word before. After thinking for a moment, Yeo-won let out a bright exclamation.
“Milk!”
It was good that she had figured out what it was, but of all the porridges in the world, why milk porridge? She couldn’t understand his choice.
Yeo-won took another spoonful and savored the flavor.
It wasn’t inedible, but she would have preferred plain white rice porridge with a bit of soy sauce.
She tried the side dishes as well, and every single one was noticeably sweet. Even the tea served beside them was sujeonggwa, a sweet cinnamon punch.
Everything is so sweet…
Yeo-won wasn’t particularly fond of sweet foods. She could tolerate dessert-level sweetness, but she didn’t care for savory dishes that were overly sugary.
Still, she couldn’t bring herself to tell Shin-wol—who was watching her so attentively—that she didn’t like it. So she quietly emptied her bowl in silence.