Chapter – 24
Soran had not secretly met anyone, nor had she done anything behind his back.
Even if he hadn’t come home early by chance, she would have greeted him with a smile anyway, pretending that nothing had happened.
No—nothing actually had happened. Since nothing had happened, she was simply wearing the face of someone to whom nothing had happened.
That was why it was confusing.
What kind of person was Soran, exactly? What was her true nature?
Was she an ally, or an enemy? Or perhaps an enemy willing to defect and become an ally?
And then—
“Gasp!”
The unfocused haze in Soran’s eyes suddenly snapped into clarity.
She whipped her head around, scanning her surroundings, and only then did she seem to grasp the situation. Her face drained of color in shock.
“Little Madam!”
Panting as if she had been running everywhere, Kkeutsoon poked her head through the crack of the door and burst out shouting.
“Why are you here? Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?”
The blood slowly drained from Soran’s face. The next moment, she spoke in a dejected voice.
“…I’m sorry.”
“….”
“I apologize.”
Gathering up her skirt, she stood and shuffled out of the kitchen with slumped shoulders.
Really, it was all because of the scorched rice. If the nurungji hadn’t made her drowsy, Soran wouldn’t have fallen asleep either.
And yet it ran off on its own, leaving her behind. How unfair.
“No, seriously, what were you even doing in here? And what’s with the fur stuck to your skirt?”
Kkeutsoon trailed after her, pouring out complaints. Soran kept her head lowered, as if she had ten mouths and not a single excuse.
“That’s enough.”
Gyoheum suddenly cut in.
“Is it really something to scold the mistress of the house for, tending to the kitchen?”
“Ah—yes.”
Kkeutsoon bowed her head and quietly retreated. Soran, who had never once tended the kitchen, looked even more ashamed.
Once inside the room, she slowly walked toward the table. Then she noticed what was placed on top of it and tilted her head.
“What is this?”
“Please, open it.”
Soran unfolded the wide leaf wrapping and her eyes widened. She lifted her head and stared straight at Gyoheum.
“Isn’t this taffy?”
“You didn’t get to eat much yesterday since we brought it to my parents. I happened to think of it while passing by, so I bought it.”
“Is it… for me?”
Her voice trembled, as though she had heard something completely unexpected. Gyoheum paused mid-motion while removing his outer robe and looked back at her.
“It’s mine.”
“My… mine.”
Soran whispered so softly it was barely audible. Then, as if touching the most precious thing in the world, she carefully stroked the taffy.
Gyoheum frowned slightly. It was just a piece of taffy—why treat it with such reverence? It wasn’t as though she’d never seen taffy before.
Then Soran looked up.
Her eyes narrowed into delicate slits. Faint wrinkles formed at the corners, her eyelashes trembled, her cheeks puffed slightly, and her lips curved into a gentle crescent.
It was like watching a flower bloom.
A tightly closed bud slowly unfurled, petal by petal, until it blossomed brilliantly, almost dazzling.
“Thank you.”
“No, I mean—over just one piece of taffy, there’s really no need to thank me…”
Gyoheum stammered without realizing it. Even knowing this wasn’t like him, his mind had gone completely blank, leaving him unable to find the right words.
Flustered, he turned his head away and finished undressing, hastily changing the subject.
“We should pay our respects to the Chancellor soon. I was promoted thanks to him. It wouldn’t be right to go empty-handed—what does he usually like? Ah, and when would you be free? It’s been a while since you last saw your father. You must be pleased.”
“…….”
But no matter how long he waited, there was no reply. Raising an eyebrow, Gyoheum absentmindedly turned his head back.
And at the same time—
“!”
He swallowed involuntarily.
The face that had just been blooming like a flower was now deathly pale.
Her cheeks had turned white, her eyes were wide with shock, her lips slightly parted—as if someone were strangling her.
“…Madam?”
Gyoheum urgently reached out. Before his hand could touch her, Soran gasped for breath.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s… nothing.”
It clearly wasn’t nothing.
What had happened? No—what had he said?
—We should pay our respects to the Chancellor soon. I was promoted thanks to him. It wouldn’t be right to go empty-handed. What does he usually like? Ah, and when would you be free? It’s been a while since you last saw your father. You must be pleased.
Which part of that had frightened her so badly?
No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t understand.
Shouldn’t she be happy? Why would she be afraid?
She was said to be the Chancellor’s favored illegitimate daughter. That house should be more comfortable for her than this one.
There must be many people there she wanted to see.
“…….”
Gyoheum’s gaze dropped.
Her pale hands were trembling.
But only for a moment. Soon, Soran looked up at him with her usual expression—softly curved eyes and a relaxed mouth.
She smiled.
A smile of complete resignation.
Like a fragile lily of the valley.
“Madam?”
“Will my going be of help to you, Sir Nangjang?”
Help.
Gyoheum narrowed his eyes as she nodded.
“If so, then I can go anytime.”
“Is that so?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what the Chancellor likes.”
“That’s fine.”
Gyoheum nodded casually. The Chancellor’s preferences no longer mattered.
All that filled his mind was the question of why she had made that expression.
Why?
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of help.”
“Not at all. Without you, would I ever have been promoted to Jungnangjang? It’s all thanks to you.”
At those words, Soran didn’t respond. She merely looked down at her feet and smiled bitterly.
Again.
Once more.
Gyoheum frowned, unable to take his eyes off her. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he didn’t know which words to choose.
Just then, Kkeutsoon announced that the meal was ready.
Gyoheum and Soran left the room one after the other, walking side by side, each lost in their own thoughts.
***
Sway, sway.
Soran clasped her hands tightly atop the swaying horse’s back. Her fingers were icy cold.
No one knew better than she did how nervous she was.
She was going back—to that place.
“No. I’m not going back. I’m just visiting.”
She whispered softly, as if trying to comfort herself. Even so, warmth refused to return to her fingertips.
—Smile. Anyone would think I was bullying you. Just looking at your face, so much like your mother’s, fills me with rage—so at least smile.
Lady Munhyeon’s scolding voice echoed vividly in her ears, as if she were right beside her.
Soran forced the corners of her lips upward. It wasn’t difficult.
She was used to smiling when she was scared, and when she was sad.
At last, the horse stopped.
“We’ve arrived.”
Kkeutsoon’s voice sounded, and Soran lifted her head.
Gyoheum had already stepped closer and was holding out his hand to her. After hesitating, Soran took it and dismounted.
A servant led the horse away. Tilting her head back, Soran stared at the gate before her.
It was dizzyingly tall.
Perhaps it only seemed that way to her.
“Your hands are cold.”
At the voice beside her, Soran forced a smile.
“I’m fine. My hands and feet have always been cold.”
Meanwhile, Kkeutsoon knocked on the door. Word had been sent ahead that they would arrive at this hour—everyone would be waiting.
A servant opened the gate and guided them to the reception room.
The Chancellor and Lady Munhyeon were waiting inside.
The Chancellor looked at Gyoheum with indifferent eyes, while Lady Munhyeon gazed at them both with a benevolent expression.
“…….”
Soran flinched, her body going rigid.
It was instinctive—fear carved into her over countless years.
She pulled her lips into a habitual smile.
Whenever she frowned before Lady Munhyeon, she was scolded. Sometimes, she was beaten with a rod.
Clenching her fist inside her sleeve, Soran bowed deeply to the two of them.
Gyoheum bowed alongside her and spoke.
“Have you been well?”
The Chancellor merely nodded once. Lady Munhyeon replied in a gentle voice.
“It’s been a long time. Come, sit.”
After offering Gyoheum a seat, she turned her gaze to Soran.
“Have you been well, Rania?”
Rania.
Without realizing it, Soran glanced around, wondering who Lady Munhyeon was calling so affectionately.
“Oh my, you silly thing.”
Lady Munhyeon laughed as if amused, then stepped closer and took Soran’s hand.
“!”
Every hair on her body stood on end. A strange chill crawled over her skin, like a cold snake.
“You’ve lost some weight.”
