Chapter 18
Yeah, that must be why I’ve been feeling so uneasy lately. That Mangjong Nari has been acting strange these days. Instead of being completely immobile, he seems to be the one watching me closely.
According to Buni, I had already won seven rounds, yet somehow I still felt like I was losing.
It wasn’t that I was upset about losing, but that Nari seemed to have changed—and that worried me. He had grown distant and cold, no longer easy to approach, and I couldn’t speak to him freely. It wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, but there was a sharp sense of distance.
Was it because of what happened last time…?
Yes, it was exactly the day after that incident. After cleaning up the corpse, I returned to Nari’s room, sewing, polishing my sword, and then ended up pressed against him that night.
Since that day, Nari had subtly changed.
“Tch.”
If anyone should have been angry about what happened, it should have been me—the one who first gave her back to a man—rather than Mangjong Nari, who had lived loosely, surrounded by all sorts of courtesans.
“Ugh… the more I think about it, the stranger it feels.”
These past few days had been suffocating. I was constantly on edge, barely able to eat. I just counted the days, wondering when a full month would pass.
I wished I could just get sick again.
Then I would be busy treating myself, and Nari would be busy being treated, leaving no room for distracting thoughts or feelings.
I shook my head, scolding myself for even thinking such naughty thoughts.
I managed to separate Buni, who insisted on visiting my quarters again at the crossroads, and steadied my mind.
I took a deep breath and headed toward my secluded quarters in the mountains.
⋆★⋆
As Yeonwon stepped out of the room, he held onto the door. Dancho, just shaking snow from his shoes as he entered the yard, noticed him and stopped.
Their eyes met, but only briefly. Yeonwon’s gaze moved slowly across his face, hands, and feet, softening slightly as it passed.
Feeling awkward, Dancho fiddled with his bundle, but Yeonwon finished closing the door and came down onto the stone step.
Dancho quickly approached to grab the shoes on the step. As he reached out to adjust them, Yeonwon’s hand reached at the same time.
Their hands touched back to back, and an even heavier silence fell.
“…….”
“…….”
“I’ll do it.”
In an instant, Yeonwon took the shoes from Dancho’s hands. Dancho, watching as each foot slipped into its shoe, quietly clenched his now-empty fingers.
“Where are you going?”
Summoning courage, he asked from behind. Dancho set his bundle down and hesitated as he approached. Yeonwon took a few steps, then stopped.
“You…”
The sudden sharpness in his voice startled Dancho into freezing. Just turning his head to look at him, Dancho noticed how tense his expression was. His shoulders relaxed with a sigh.
“Where are you going out in such weather…? …It’s cold.”
Adding the word “cold” in a slightly dissatisfied tone made Dancho gulp.
“You were cold? I put plenty of firewood in… Shouldn’t you at least cover yourself with a blanket?”
How Yeonwon took that in that way, Dancho didn’t know. Yeonwon huffed in disbelief. He had been warm inside the room—why would he feel cold?
“I was delayed visiting Madam Kkotbun. Were you very cold? I’ll make warm tea right away.”
“You… really…”
Dancho, heading to the kitchen, was stopped by that remark. Yeonwon, who had halted mid-sentence, closed his lips tightly as though suppressing displeasure and turned sharply. From someone who had just said he was cold, a wind sharper than the northern frost blew fiercely.
“Where are you going?”
“I just want to walk for a bit, it feels stifling.”
Before Dancho could approach, Yeonwon crossed the yard in a few strides and exited through the open fence gate. His voice was sharp with anger, eyes not once glancing back.
Dancho took a deep breath to calm his chest and suppress his disappointment.
“You mustn’t go far.”
But his long legs had already carried him a good distance. Maybe he heard, maybe not. Even if he did, he probably wouldn’t respond.
Just as Dancho turned away without hope, a delayed response came from him, walking among the snow-covered trees.
“Very well.”
Dancho quietly watched where he had gone. That he would obediently answer “very well” made him resentful.
“Very well” sounded so gentle, unlike “I understand,” which would have seemed flat. Hearing that gave weight to his own words.
If that’s the case, why act so cold and angry?
Tch. Dancho pursed his lips and pulled his bundle closer. He sat on the floor and began unpacking.
This is the medicine case. This is the cloth. These are jujubes Nari wanted dried. This is scorched rice Madam Kkotbun gave for Nari to cook with, and this is the dried… something special Madam Kkotbun gave.
His hands grew cold as he handled them, and his nose ran from the chill. Yet, strangely, a wave of sorrow surged within him.
I brought all this because of someone…
He glared at the jujubes, scorched rice, and dried fish as if at Nari. Just staring at them for a moment eased the sadness a little.
I should quickly make something delicious.
When had I felt so sad anyway? Dancho carefully gathered everything again and headed to the kitchen.
⋆★⋆
After placing soups, side dishes, and desserts, the table was full. Lifting it with effort, Dancho carefully exited the kitchen.
He set the table down on the floor, removed his shoes, and stood up. Approaching the door, he braced himself.
“Nari, dinner…”
Before he could finish, the door opened. Yeonwon, slightly bending to fit the shorter door height, met Dancho’s eyes.
Yeonwon stepped forward purposefully, glancing between Dancho and the table. Dancho quickly grabbed the table in surprise.
“Let me. I’ll carry it.”
“No, this is my duty.”
“It’s my table.”
“It’s heavy.”
“…I said I’ll carry it.”
Yeonwon glared at Dancho, prying the hands off the table. Dancho awkwardly held his hands together, then followed him, carrying the leftover bowl of porridge Yeonwon had taken.
“And you?”
Yeonwon asked, looking around the table. Dancho placed the porridge beside him and sat down.
“I’ll eat after you’ve eaten.”
“Eat now.”
“Please, you first.”
“I said eat. While it’s warm.”
The words slipped out before he realized. He clamped his mouth shut and frowned.
Dancho responded sulkily,
“If you care so much about my meals, why take the table away? Did my hands have… something on them?”
“Such words before a meal. How impolite.”
Yeonwon, holding a spoon, pursed his lips as if scolding. Dancho quickly added,
“I’m not eating with you anyway. Whether I eat now or later, it doesn’t matter.”
“Didn’t I say, eat while it’s warm?”
He spoke through clenched teeth.
“The food will stay warm on the stove. Don’t worry about me, Nari, just eat.”
Yeonwon’s calm, blunt answer made Dancho flinch. His gaze was sharp.
Yeonwon, who seemed to be restraining something, threw out words like charity:
“It’s a matter of compassion for the people.”
“Huh?”
“Saying eat while it’s warm is an act of care, so don’t misunderstand.”
Satisfied with his own words, Yeonwon straightened confidently.
“Taking the table was the same. It was meant to lessen the burden of a hardworking commoner, not because of you. Not because your hands might be dirty.”
“You’re like a wise king.”
“…What?”
“Anyone would think you were the Crown Prince or a Grand Lord.”
Dancho’s remark gave Yeonwon pause, but seeing him respond without backing down, he became stubborn in return.
“This is my table. Taking it was simply because it looked heavy.”
“…Really, Nari?”
“Anyway, my point is, it was out of compassion, not specifically for you. Don’t think otherwise.”
Dancho, gazing quietly, let out a faint sigh.
“I don’t think that. Just as long as it wasn’t because my hands were dirty.”
Though Dancho stubbornly brought up “dirty hands” again, it was just a fleeting moment.
Hearing Dancho’s calm, indifferent response, Yeonwon felt more disappointed than angry. Somehow, it seemed only he experienced these emotional ups and downs.
“Eat everything. Don’t fuss. Speak up if it doesn’t suit your taste.”
Finishing quickly, Dancho stood with the water bowl. Yeonwon’s gaze landed on his forehead as he rose.
One eyebrow lifted, eyes sharp. This expression had become common lately, but now it was at its peak—he looked displeased and tense.
Dancho, intimidated, began to explain.
“The porridge has cooled… I’ll bring some more.”
Even if he was Mangjong Nari, he was still impatient. Dancho frowned at himself. He had worked so hard preparing this meal, only wanting him to eat well today.
Unable to say that politely, he had just muttered. Frustrated with himself, Dancho frowned.
He had gathered ingredients from Madam Kkotbun, shopped again, thawed his cold hands while preparing, and spent a long time in the kitchen—only for it all to end so emptily.
Feeling upset, his eyes grew warm with unshed tears.
