Chapter – 25
“Good day to you.”
At Soran’s stiff greeting, Lady Munhyeon glanced at her with a hurt expression.
“How cold-hearted of you. Not a single word all this time. I was so worried about you that I couldn’t sleep for days.”
“……I’m sorry.”
Soran found the situation unbearably awkward.
So she forced a smile with all her might. That was the only thing she could do.
“…….”
Watching her, Gyohum narrowed his eyes. For some reason, Soran’s smile looked as though it were born of fear.
That couldn’t be.
Gyohum shook his head inwardly. She seemed to have been raised with care, and although Lady Munhyeon had not borne her herself, she treated Soran warmly enough.
He must have been too on edge.
Gyohum turned his gaze to the Chancellor of the Secretariat. Sensing the look, the man turned his head.
Gyohum smiled as if drawn.
“Thanks to you, I’ve been promoted to Jungnangjang, so I came to pay my respects.”
“There was no need to go so far as to come in person.”
Before he could finish, Lady Munhyeon cut in.
“I’ll have tea prepared, so please speak at ease. I have much to talk about with Ran after so long. I’ll be in the next room.”
“Very well.”
At the Chancellor’s nod, Lady Munhyeon turned to Soran as if telling her to follow.
Soran quietly drew in a breath and followed behind her.
And Gyohum, watching the two women leave the room together, frowned. Soran looked like a cow being led to slaughter.
That couldn’t be.
“How is your work?”
Gyohum tore his gaze from the doorway and turned back to the Chancellor, a familiar smile forming in his eyes.
“I’m adjusting smoothly.”
“Good.”
The Chancellor nodded and added in a meaningful tone,
“Adjust appropriately. I have no intention of keeping you there forever. You are a man destined for greater things.”
“If you entrust it to me, I’ll give it my utmost.”
“Utmost effort alone won’t suffice.”
Understanding the implication immediately, Gyohum replied in a resolute voice,
“I will meet your expectations.”
“Good.”
At that moment, a maid entered with tea.
The Chancellor leaned back leisurely, and Gyohum’s smile softened even more.
“Looks like your fortune has really turned.”
At the sharp remark that came the moment they left the room, Soran widened her eyes.
“Pardon?”
Lady Munhyeon glared at her with cold eyes.
“You’re still as slow as ever.”
Soran stiffened.
“It’s been quite peaceful not hearing you say ‘Pardon? Pardon?’ all the time.”
Whenever Soran stood before Lady Munhyeon, her courage shrank to nothing.
“Judging by how you’ve put on weight, it seems your life has grown quite comfortable.”
“…….”
Just moments ago, the woman had worried that she’d grown thin—now she scolded her for gaining weight.
Soran said nothing. She didn’t know which tune to dance to.
“You still have a knack for driving people mad, just like your mother.”
Her heart jolted. Lady Munhyeon’s words cut into her as if they had physical form.
Anything repeated enough times becomes familiar. Sad as it was, she had grown used to the criticism.
Each wound on her heart had grown new flesh, and where scars layered upon scars, the skin had grown thick.
Yet today, her heart hurt as if she were being scolded for the very first time.
Soran looked down at her chest in confusion. All she could see was silk clothing that didn’t suit her.
Had her heart grown soft again simply because she hadn’t been torn apart by Lady Munhyeon in so long?
“Clumsy girl. Why are you standing there like an idiot? Go inside.”
“……Yes.”
At Lady Munhyeon’s words, Soran hurried into the room—only to stop again.
Inside was another person waiting for her.
“Sewha… sister.”
At the news of Soran’s arrival, Sewha had rushed over like the wind. She’d been bored without anyone to bully, and this was perfect timing.
With her arms crossed, she narrowed her eyes.
“Who’s your sister? I’ve told you how many times—I’ve never had a half-wit sister like you. Then again, what should one expect from a fool?”
Her gaze swept Soran up and down, irritation flashing across her face.
“So you get married and suddenly think you can dress respectably? Have you forgotten where your manners went? Where’s your greeting?”
“Good day, sis—”
Soran trailed off, carefully watching Sewha’s expression. Sewha turned to Lady Munhyeon and complained,
“Mother, this is exactly what I said. I should have been married before that fool.”
Lady Munhyeon, seated, glanced at Soran standing awkwardly.
Soran couldn’t bring herself to step into their circle, standing rooted to the spot as if it were her place.
“Aren’t marriage talks underway for you as well?”
“So what? That fool already married, and I still haven’t!”
“Do you think I wanted to marry her off? It was your father’s sudden decision.”
“But still…”
Sewha pouted more deeply, especially when she recalled Gyohum’s face from the wedding day.
A fine figure, tall, solidly built. Frankly, a man who suited her far better than Soran.
Compared to him, the eldest son of the Woo family of Sangsi—whom she was currently discussing marriage with—was hardly appealing.
Short, with pockmarks on his face.
“Your marriage must be considered more carefully.”
At those words, Sewha jutted out her lips. Lady Munhyeon soothed her in a gentle voice.
“I raised you like gold and jade. How could I marry you off to just anyone?”
Then… did that mean I was married off to ‘just anyone’?
That thought crossed Soran’s mind, but she slowly shook her head.
As Lady Munhyeon said, her marriage had been rushed, like roasting beans over a lightning strike.
Still, Soran knew that Gyohum was not “just anyone.”
He was kind enough to think of her when he saw a taffy seller. Lady Jami was always benevolent, and Mo Jinpyeong never tormented her.
Though her time there had been brief, Soran had already grown fond of them.
“He’s not just anyone.”
And so she said it.
Lady Munhyeon and Sewha turned to her at the same time.
Sewha’s face twisted, her eyes sharpening.
“How dare you talk back? Getting married must have driven you mad!”
“No, that’s not what I meant—”
“Shut your mouth! Since when did you start talking back? Got yourself a husband and now you’re full of yourself!”
“That’s enough, Sewha.”
Lady Munhyeon restrained her daughter, but Sewha shouted,
“Mother!”
Lady Munhyeon looked directly at Soran. Her voice was colder than ever.
“You haven’t forgotten what I told you, have you?”
“!”
Soran’s face drained of color. She hid her trembling hands behind her back.
Suddenly, breathing became difficult.
The foul smell that had lingered in the room grew stronger—fish rotting, rancid and nauseating.
It was the stench of long-held hatred and resentment.
Nausea rose. She felt like she might vomit. Her lungs shrank, tightening.
Soran gasped as if she were suffocating.
“Don’t think everything ends just because you married. As I said, with a single word, I can bring you back here anytime.”
“……Yes.”
Soran barely managed to move her lips.
Then, the sound of a maid outside the door.
“They’re preparing to leave.”
At that single sentence, Soran finally felt her airway open.
As she turned away, Lady Munhyeon’s voice struck her back like a blade.
“Smile.”
Soran flinched, her body freezing again.
Slowly, she turned her head.
Lady Munhyeon stared at her with snake-like, chilling eyes.
“If anyone saw you, they’d think I’d been mistreating you. Is there anyone as kind as me? Who else would feed, clothe, house, and even marry off a child born outside?”
“…….”
“So smile.”
“……Yes.”
Even the smile that usually came so easily before Lady Munhyeon had vanished. Still, Soran forced her lips upward.
“Just like your mother.”
A sharp blade flew and lodged itself in her heart. Once again, it stung.
At that moment, Gyohum appeared beyond the doorway.
Smiling gently, he looked at Soran.
“Is your conversation finished?”
“Yes.”
Soran nodded.
At the same time, Gyohum’s gaze sharpened.
She was smiling.
With a pale face, lips stretched precariously upward—smiling as if she were crying.
His eyes slid past her shoulder.
Lady Munhyeon and Sewha stood there, smiling pleasantly.
There was nothing strange.
Nothing at all.
“…….”
And yet—
Sewha’s clothing caught his eye.
More precisely, its color.
Her apricot-colored jacket and pink skirt were bright, as though spring had already arrived.
In contrast, Soran wore an off-white jacket and a deep navy skirt.
