Chapter 04
“Idiot.”
Muttering a word she had never used in her life, Seoyoung shook her head.
How had she not known from the beginning? How could she have failed to recognize such unmistakable hostility, such greed, such clearly directed malice?
The past five years suddenly felt blurred.
It still felt like yesterday—the day she rode her bicycle through the misty rain along the River Cam in Cambridge and arrived at her uncle’s studio.
Manager Kim, eyes red, and her uncle, who seemed to have aged ten years overnight, had said to her:
“You have to go back to Korea. Today.”
Swept away like driftwood in a storm, she barely knew what was happening before she found herself the lady of Yeonhaedang, and her mother was in the grave.
On a warm seaside hill overlooking Mangyangjae, beside her grandfather and grandmother. Leaving only Seoyoung behind.
And then she met Kang Naeun. She was introduced as a distant relative of Han Seoha. Hard to calculate exactly, but if one insisted, perhaps a twelfth cousin.
When Han Seoha’s grandfather had amassed his fortune and was nearing death, he had gathered what few relatives remained. Among them was a child whose parents had died and who was on the verge of being sent to an orphanage.
A branch of the family not even thirty years removed—and a child who had lost her parents. Of course she was taken in. At first, Seoyoung had truly pitied the girl for having no parents.
“Unni.”
That was what Kang Naeun had called her when they first met, before hiding herself behind Han Seoha.
Seoyoung hadn’t done anything at all, yet Naeun had clung to the hem of Han Seoha’s clothes like a lifeline, near tears.
She must just be shy, Seoyoung had thought.
What had been the first sign?
When Naeun, wearing a thin lace nightgown that even Seoyoung, newly married, wouldn’t have worn, fell asleep curled up on the sofa in Han Seoha’s study?
When she moved her bedroom to the room next to his, saying the main house was too empty and frightening?
Or when she tearfully declared she would attend a university in Daejeon?
Back then, Seoyoung had been simple.
Even if she was nineteen, maybe she just wanted to wear that kind of nightgown.
She might fall asleep in her brother’s study.
Her family was here; perhaps she was upset about having to go all the way to Daejeon for college.
That was what she thought.
“Was it your idea for Naeun to go to university in Daejeon?”
Perhaps that was when the foolish Han Seoha had first asked her that.
And the naïve Lee Seoyoung had smiled as she answered,
“Her grades only qualified her for there.”
It’s fine—if it doesn’t work out, she can always study abroad, she had even added.
Only much later did Seoyoung realize that he had never believed her.
Two years ago.
“The president won’t wake up. They’re asking if you could come by.”
Manager Kim delivered the message with pursed lips. It was already almost eight. Hadn’t he said he had a breakfast meeting? That was why she hadn’t even prepared breakfast.
It was well past the time he should have left for work, and Seoyoung felt a flicker of concern.
“Kang Naeun came yesterday, didn’t she? Why not ask her? Why call someone all the way here?”
“Don’t be like that. No matter how young she is, she’s still a girl. It’s not right for her to go into her brother’s room while he’s sleeping.”
Manager Kim bit back the question he wanted to ask—how many years apart are you two, really?
Worried that he might be ill, Seoyoung hurried to the main house and carefully opened the bedroom door.
The room was pitch-dark thanks to the thick blackout curtains. Han Seoha, who usually woke with the dawn, must have overslept because of them.
How exhausted must he have been to close curtains he never used? Feeling sorry for him, Seoyoung tiptoed to the window and gently drew them back.
Sunlight slowly seeped into the room.
“You need to wake up. It’s already eight—”
As she approached the bed to rouse him softly, her steps stopped dead, as if glued to the floor.
The blood drained from her face. Her hands began to tremble.
“What… what is this…?”
Han Seoha, asleep in his bathrobe, was not alone.
With one hand resting on his bare chest revealed between the loosened folds of the robe, Kang Naeun slept leaning against his shoulder.
“You’re insane.”
It was the only thing Seoyoung could force out.
Naeun stirred, squinting at the sunlight. Beneath the thin silk nightgown that clung to her like water, her bare chest and white legs gleamed in the light.
Han Seoha opened his eyes.
And then—
“Aaaah!”
Seoyoung screamed, clutching her head as she collapsed to the floor.
And only then did she understand.
“There’s a girl they’ve been raising specifically to be the daughter-in-law.”
“That’s right. They say she was marked as the future daughter-in-law from childhood, which is why President Han has never accepted a single matchmaking proposal.”
She finally understood what those society wives had meant when they whispered while looking at her during charity gatherings.
“If I go to Daejeon, I can live in the dorms while attending university. I’ll go to Daejeon. I’ll go, unni.”
Why Naeun’s shoulders would droop like a fragile bird’s whenever she looked at her.
“Was it your idea for Naeun to go to Daejeon?”
Why Han Seoha had been so desperate to protect Naeun from her.
Every piece of the puzzle fell easily into place. Even the nameless discomfort that had always lingered in a corner of her heart finally revealed its cause.
At Seoyoung’s scream, the servants rushed in.
Han Seoha bolted upright, staring in shock between Seoyoung and Naeun.
A moment later, Naeun woke fully, glanced at Seoyoung, and hastily pulled the blanket up to cover herself—like someone hiding a naked body.
“Madam!”
The first to rush in was Manager Kim, who had followed Seoyoung to the main house just in case.
Bursting uninvited into the couple’s bedroom, he pulled Seoyoung into his arms as though protecting his own child.
Han Seoha frowned at the servants peeking in through the open door and slammed it shut.
“So that’s what it was? That’s why?”
Seoyoung shoved Manager Kim away and sprang up. She yanked at the blanket Naeun clutched like a lifeline.
Naeun flailed, trying to cover herself.
“What do you think you’re doing!”
Even when Han Seoha shouted, Seoyoung tore the blanket away from Naeun.
She didn’t know where the strength came from. She hurled the crumpled blanket into the corner.
It was filthy. A woman who called herself her husband’s sister, lying in her husband’s bed under her husband’s blanket. And her husband.
“Ha…”
Seoyoung looked back and forth between Naeun, half-naked and trembling in the corner of the bed, and Han Seoha, his bathrobe hanging completely open. Then she screamed again.
She couldn’t believe it. That the two of them could commit something like this without hesitation. And that she had never known.
“Madam, please calm down. Please.”
Manager Kim had never seen her like this. Half-mad, Seoyoung grabbed whatever was within reach and hurled it.
Naeun shrieked and hid behind Han Seoha.
“So that’s why you came here? So you two could—”
No matter how furious she was, Seoyoung couldn’t finish the sentence. The words were too filthy to utter.
Only then did Han Seoha realize what she was accusing them of, why she was raging. His face turned ashen.
“You’ve lost your mind. Completely.”
With Naeun shielded behind him, he said that to Seoyoung, who was screaming, tears hanging from her lashes, gripping the bedsheets Naeun had slept on as though she would rip them apart.
“Unni. It’s not like that. There was thunder. I was so scared, so without realizing…”
From behind Han Seoha’s back, Naeun murmured.
Knowing full well Seoyoung wouldn’t hear her, she poured her excuses directly into Han Seoha’s ear.
A vase on the table crashed to the floor under Seoyoung’s flailing hand. Glass shattered. A red gash opened on her hand.
“Madam!”
Manager Kim, seeing no other choice, wrapped his arms around her with all his strength.
Blood dripped from her fingertips, splattering red onto the floor. She swayed as if about to collapse. Manager Kim forcibly led her out.
As the bedroom door opened and Seoyoung staggered out, supported by him, the servants parted in silence.
Behind her unsteady steps, the bedroom door shut again with a cold click.
