Summer
Morning light spilled over the walls, stretching long shadows across the ground.
A breeze skimmed the tips of the roof tiles and carried the scent of grass with it, while birdsong circled beneath the eaves.
It was a summer day so clear the sky looked freshly washed — yet the moment Cheongwol crossed the threshold, she took up a broom.
The maids must have risen at dawn to sweep, for the courtyard was spotless: not a fallen leaf, not so much as a speck of dust. There was nothing left to clean, and still her hands began to move of their own accord.
If you cannot concentrate, then you may as well sweep.
Even after becoming a woman, Cheongwol had been unable to settle her mind. Soga-yul had sighed and pressed a broom into her hands. At the time, Cheongwol had taken it for disappointment — a punishment — and had swept the courtyard with diligent fervor.
And yet, what was this?
No matter how busily she worked her hands, she could never match the unhurried pace of Unhak sweeping beside her. She was clearly moving faster than he was, and still she always fell behind. She could not understand it.
Senior Brother Unhak, you aren't secretly using inner energy for this, are you?
She had blurted out the absurdity in her frustration, and Unhak had burst into laughter.
If my studies were deep enough to waste inner energy on something like this, I wouldn't need to be out here at all. I think I know what Junior Sister Cheongwol is asking. Watch carefully.
Cheongwol had nodded slowly and watched him with care. One sweep of the broom, one leaf — or two. Ordinary motions, no different from her own. She narrowed her eyes.
Is he teasing me?
The thought crossed her mind — and then her eyes went wide.
Do you see now how it should be done?
Unhak grinned as he herded the leaves and dust into a single corner.
Yes. Thanks to you.
Where she had focused only on sweeping fast, he had been slow but precise. His wrist bent no more than half a span; his stride moved only the width of a single roof tile. It was less like sweeping than like martial practice itself.
"The important thing was the breathing," she said. "Because the breath never wavered, the sweeping never wavered either."
Her expression said she had found the answer and expected praise for it. Unhak's reaction was more complicated.
"Breathing isn't wrong," he said, "but there is a more fundamental answer than that. Think on it calmly. It has something to do with why the Sect Leader set you to sweeping in the first place."
After that she had swept every morning without fail. Her breathing grew a little steadier — and that was all. Right up to the day she left the Kongdong Sect, she never once matched Unhak's pace with a broom.
"Haa…"
Cheongwol let out a sigh that rose from deep in her chest. If she could only find that answer, she might sweep the tangle from her heart the way she swept a courtyard clean.
She stopped and stood still, and the face of the man she had wounded rose before her. They had only just found each other again — and if she told him she had to leave, she was afraid of what he would do. From the start they could never stay together to the end. She should have drawn a proper line.
Perhaps it was because she had become a woman, but she had kept denying the feelings deepening in him, and this was where it had led. Besides, it would be far better for him to hold Dang Sohye than a man who no longer was one. Set against everything she could offer him, Cheongwol had almost nothing.
Even if I'd been born a woman from the start — even if I'd been born to an ordinary martial family instead of the Im clan — it would have been the same. Hwi is the Young Master of the Seomun Clan.
So she would not, as Hong Chilgong had said, resent her lot. She was thinking that when—
"I don't know what you're thinking about so hard that you don't even notice someone walking right up to you. Thinking of the fiancé you left behind?"
A pair of feet she would have known anywhere came to a stop in front of her.
Today or tomorrow.
She would be leaving with Hong Chilgong, and she had meant to say a proper goodbye. She had not expected to come face to face with him so suddenly.
When Cheongwol could not lift her head, Seomun Hwi opened his arms without hesitation and drew her into his embrace.
"…Hwi!"
Startled, she struggled a beat too late — but whatever he was thinking, he locked his arms tight and would not let her go.
"I need to talk to you for a moment."
The low voice brushing her ear made her heart lurch, and she bit her lower lip hard. She had meant to see his face one last time. Not like this.
"If you have something to say, come back with some manners. Don't act like this — like a brute."
The words came out cold, though it hurt her to say them. She had no choice. If she did not cut this clean and left any room at all, the one who would suffer would not be her — it would be him.
"And what is this between two men? You need to get a hold of yourself too."
Seomun Hwi said nothing. She thought that might be enough and tried to pull free — and in that instant a hard arm cinched around her waist and refused to let her go.
"You kissed me. Don't you think it's a little late to pretend you don't know what that means?"
The memory of last night — the one she had been trying so hard not to recall — rose up, and the tips of Cheongwol's ears flushed red.
"…That was just… because I was sorry…"
"So you kissed me? Do you do that for everyone you're sorry to?"
"Seomun Hwi."
"Maybe I looked pitiful. Maybe you called it pity."
His hand swept the hair back from her left ear. The touch was careful, as if he were handling something infinitely precious — and for that very reason it set her on edge.
Was he always like this?
The man in front of her was unmistakably Seomun Hwi, and yet he seemed nothing like the one she knew.
"Or maybe you did it simply because you wanted to. We can figure that out together."
"…!"
Her heart began to pound hard. Instinct shouted at her — get away from Seomun Hwi, right now.
But it was already too late. In the middle of struggling, she had met his eyes.
"If you don't want this — push me away."
"Hh… nn…"
Cheongwol trembled, digging her nails into the thick forearms locked around her. She had meant to leave with Hong Chilgong so she would never hurt him again — and when she came back to herself, she was kissing Seomun Hwi once more.
Not a childish peck, either. A filthy, open-mouthed kiss, tongues tangled together. Seomun Hwi was the aggressive one, of course — but Cheongwol, without meaning to, answered him in small, helpless ways. That only seemed to drive him further; he began to bite at her lips as if he meant to devour her.
"Hah…"
A moment later, worried that she was breathing only through her mouth in her panic, he eased back just enough to give her air.
"Haa…"
A thread of saliva stretched between them. Cheongwol barely noticed; she collapsed against his chest as if her strength had simply given out. How had it come to this? Using inner energy to shove him away might hurt him. Biting her own tongue might draw blood.
So all she had managed was a little twisting, a token resistance — and the more she did, the more clearly the natural disadvantage between a man and a woman stood out.
Even so — to take it this far, this quietly. She was still on her feet, but the strength had gone out of her waist and her legs had gone soft; without him holding her up she would have crumpled at any moment. Like this, it really would look as if she had kissed him because she wanted to — just as he said.
She tried to force strength back into her body. As if he had expected exactly that, Seomun Hwi pressed the back of her head and would not let her lift her face.
"Once isn't enough to tell. I think we need to try a little more."
She already felt strange enough that her soul might leave her body — and he wanted to do more of this, here?
She managed to raise her head and look up at Seomun Hwi, who was smiling faintly.
"…That's enough. Let go."
Did she not know that pleading with a face like that only provoked a man further?
"Not enough."
What change of heart had taken him overnight, that he could become someone so different? As her breathing slowly steadied, she frowned and glared up at him.
"You're the one this will hurt. I will never—"
Of course she never finished the sentence. Seomun Hwi's mouth covered hers again and swept through her roughly, without restraint.
"Nn…"
The last kiss had been rough enough. This one carried a violence that gave her no consideration at all.
I can't breathe…
Listening to the wet sound of saliva, her eyes began to go unfocused — and then—
"Hah… hah…"
Seomun Hwi drew back at just the right moment and wiped her saliva-slick lips with his finger.
"Of course. Your head is full of nothing but that fiancé of yours."
His finger seemed about to leave — then lingered on her mouth, rubbing slowly.
—Crack!
He had thought she would collapse from exhaustion. Instead, she bit his finger.
"It's far too late to pretend none of this happened."
And then, clearly, into the ear of the woman glaring up at him, he whispered:
"That fiancé of yours. I think I need to meet him at least once."