Chapter – 14
At first, I thought she had just gone to the restroom. But it was taking longer than I expected.
What could she be doing? Could she possibly be meeting with someone sent by the Chief Secretary? While waiting for her return, a myriad of thoughts raced through my mind.
If so, what message could she have for an informant?
No, before that, what did the Chief Secretary want to find out from me? Why had he pushed for this marriage?
Just as Gyoheum, unable to bear it any longer, was about to rise, the door opened again and Soran returned.
So, pretending to sleep, he strained his senses to her movements.
“Hah… ah… hah… ah…”
Soran let out her breath in small, measured bursts.
Carefully slipping under the blanket, she clung to the far edge of the bed just as she had at first and closed her eyes.
“? Sniff.” Gyoheum quietly flared his nostrils. It was because a pungent smell was coming from her.
Suddenly, her words to Yeonsandaek came to mind.
―I won’t let the embers go out, so don’t worry and go.
Embers. Gyoheum did not know how important embers were.
He also didn’t know that a maid would rummage through the hearth every dawn to keep them from dying out.
“……”
But how did she know? Looking back, there were more than one or two puzzling things.
As Gyoheum stared at the wall lost in thought, Soran stirred.
He closed his eyes again. Suddenly, it felt as if the air was shifting. It was a most peculiar sensation.
His senses were honed razor-sharp, and the movement behind him was depicted as vividly as if seen with his own eyes.
As Soran approached, the air pressed in. In response, Gyoheum’s muscles tensed.
What was she trying to do? Just as a seed of suspicion took root in his mind.
Rustle.
“……”
Soran tugged at the blanket near his waist.
Having pulled the blanket up to her neck, she pressed down firmly on the edges to keep the drafts out before retreating to her spot.
“Brr, it’s cold.”
A small murmur was audible. And indeed, the scent of the cold dawn breeze clung to her.
Gyoheum, who had been lying still as death, slowly turned over only after Soran’s breathing had settled into a regular rhythm.
Soran had curled herself into a ball, with only half the blanket covering her.
The two lay at opposite ends of the bed, and one of them couldn’t fully cover themselves with the blanket.
The one who had mumbled “Brr, it’s cold” had willingly given the blanket to Gyoheum. It wasn’t to win his favor. Gyoheum was pretending to be asleep, after all.
Then why?
……Well. Letting out a short sigh, he moved toward the center of the bed.
The distance between them narrowed. That much more blanket was available.
Gyoheum pushed the blanket towards her and closed his eyes again. His mind was too clear for sleep to come.
But as he listened to Soran’s rhythmic breathing, he eventually fell asleep. And into a very sweet dream at that.
Glint.
Soran opened her eyes. It was before the first rooster crowed.
She raised her hand before her face. In the dark room, even her hand right in front of her nose was hard to see.
Pushing the blanket aside, she quietly slipped down from the bed.
Smoothing her disheveled hair and donning the outer garment she had taken off, she headed for the kitchen.
She just needed to check on the embers one last time.
Yeonsandaek would arrive around the time the first rooster crowed, so she had to make sure the embers hadn’t gone out before then.
“Brrr.”
As soon as she stepped out of the room, the chilly air made the back of her neck prickle.
Opening the wooden door and entering, she felt warm air. Her body, which had been all hunched up, gradually relaxed.
Soran, who had been walking with her arms crossed and taking quick, short steps, opened her eyes wide—they had been half-closed.
“Ah, thank goodness. They’re not out yet.”
Poking at the blackened firewood, she saw reddish embers.
Soran fumbled for the fire poker, tossed in some thin kindling, and then took a deep breath, puffing out her cheeks.
Bending over, she brought her face close to the hearth opening, squeezed her eyes shut, and blew with all her might.
“Whooosh!”
Whoosh, the flames sprang to life.
“Still got the touch.”
Shrugging her shoulders with a touch of pride, Soran threw a few more pieces of wood into the hearth.
“Now there should be nothing to worry about until Yeonsandaek comes…”
Creeeak. At that moment, the kitchen door opened. Soran, who had been turning her head with a smug expression, opened her eyes wide.
“Uh……”
Yeonsandaek was standing there.
Soran, blinking slowly, glanced past the woman’s shoulder. The sky was still pitch black, not even a faint hint of dawn visible.
Soran slowly straightened up, placed her hands on her hips with a thump, and deliberately put on a stern expression.
“Why have you come so early?”
“Did you come out to tend the fire?”
At Yeonsandaek’s words, Soran, as if to show off her skill, sidestepped slightly to reveal the hearth blazing vigorously.
But Yeonsandaek’s expression didn’t soften. Soran asked cautiously.
“Has the youngest gotten a little better?”
“No need to worry anymore.”
“Really?”
Soran smiled brightly. That was welcome news amid all this.
The moment she took a step towards Yeonsandaek.
“This morning, he finally closed his eyes for good.”
“!”
Soran’s movement froze on the spot. Her smiling face stiffened, and only her pupils moved as she stared at Yeonsandaek.
“Wha… what did you just say…?”
“But thanks to you, young madam, he got to eat beef porridge, so he’ll have no regrets on his journey. That child, who couldn’t even finish a bowl of thin gruel, polished off a whole bowl of porridge.”
“No, that’s…”
“They say a ghost who ate well before dying has a fair complexion. By now, he’s probably crossing to the Western Paradise with a pretty face.”
“Uh……”
Yeonsandaek smiled faintly, the corners of her eyes crinkling. That made it even harder for Soran to grasp. A mother who had lost her child was smiling.
Yeonsandaek slowly bowed towards her.
“Thank you, young madam.”
Plop.
Soran’s gaze fell downward.
Plop.
A round dot was marked on the floor at her feet. Wondering what it was, the round dot gradually swelled in size.
“Huu… huu…”
Finally, a sob escaped from between Soran’s teeth. The perfectly rounded tears fell plop-plop without her having any chance to wipe them.
Soran didn’t know why she was crying. Perhaps it was because Yeonsandaek wasn’t crying.
“Huu…”
Yeonsandaek, who had slowly raised her head, gazed at her tenderly.
Yeonsandaek’s pupils trembled slightly. Her face was one that had much to say, but in the end, she said nothing.
A damp smell vibrated in the air. It felt as if Soran’s body would become completely soaked.
Ah. Only then did Soran realize that it wasn’t that the woman wasn’t crying, but that she couldn’t.
The mother who had sent her young child ahead was grieving too deeply to shed tears.
“But, why… are you here? The person who should be holding the child’s funeral… Why, here…”
Soran spoke in a tearful, halting voice. Yeonsandaek, who had entered the kitchen, lifted the lid of the cauldron and poured in water.
“There’s something more important than that.”
Something more important than that.
―All the food young madam eats is prepared by Yeonsandaek.
Soran bit her lower lip tightly. Something more important than burying her own child: her duty as a maid.
“Missing one meal won’t kill anyone.”
Soran raised her voice without realizing it.
“Even without you, there are plenty of maids to prepare breakfast.”
“…That’s precisely why.”
Yeonsandaek, who had been pouring water, turned to look at Soran.
“There are plenty of maids who could take my place, so I mustn’t leave my post carelessly. If I do, my position might disappear.”
“!”
Soran’s eyes widened. The pooled tears streamed down. Yeonsandaek smiled at her with all her might.
“Thank you for your concern, young madam.”
“I…”
“You’d better return to your room before anyone sees you.”
She couldn’t stubbornly refuse. She didn’t want to burden this woman, who had enough sorrow even without her.
In the end, Soran obediently turned to leave.
“I will never forget this kindness, young madam.”
Soran, standing blankly before the kitchen door, wiped the corners of her eyes with her sleeve. It was in vain, as the tears poured forth ceaselessly.
But then.
“Madam?”
A familiar voice settled beside her. Even without raising her head, she knew who stood before her.
It wasn’t because of the voice. It was because of the scent of bitter herbs he had carried with him as he walked here.
“What’s the matter? Was the smoke that acrid?”
Gyoheum, faintly frowning, approached her. The distance between them narrowed, but the scent of bitter herbs grew fainter.
It was strange.
“Captain!”
So, Soran grabbed his arm and held on tight. Because the scent of bitter herbs had grown faint.
“……”
Gyoheum, his eyebrows raised, looked once at her hand and once at her face.
Her eyes, which had sparkled like wet pebbles, had lost their light. The cheeks that had once greedily bitten into meat were gaunt.
The tears clinging to her eyelashes fell helplessly, and her tightly bitten lips trembled futilely.
“What’s the matter.”
Gyoheum’s voice grew lower..
