Chapter 9: The Vow of Eternal Love (1)
“Looking at the sky, it doesn’t seem like it’s going to rain.”
Seohyo glanced out the window as she retied her hair. She brushed the dust off her clothes, slung the drawing case onto her back, and was ready to go out.
Inside the drawing case was the image of the hairpin of Lord Ga, the man who had strangled Seohyo two days ago. She intended to start asking around about it today.
It wasn’t a common design, so maybe it would be easier than expected to find a lead.
First, she needed to find the hairpin. Once she did, perhaps she could finally uncover the reason for that strangely unsettling feeling she had.
“Huh?”
But she hadn’t even stepped out of her room before encountering a problem.
Not even the front gate—Seohyo hadn’t left her room yet.
“Where did all my shoes go?”
Seohyo had planned to switch from her comfortable indoor slippers to her outdoor shoes, but when she opened the empty shoe cabinet, she froze.
The four pairs of shoes that had been neatly arranged just last night had vanished without a trace.
It wasn’t just her outdoor shoes that were missing. Her rain clogs and her special leather shoes, worn only on fine days, had disappeared as well.
What on earth was going on?
Seohyo wandered in front of her room in a daze until she finally called out to Chaon, who happened to be passing by.
“Chaon, my shoes are gone.”
“That figures.”
He replied nonchalantly and walked away. Seohyo repeated his words to herself as she followed him in her slippers, the heels scraping against the floor with each step.
“What do you mean by that? What happened to my shoes?”
“I washed them.”
“All four pairs at once?”
“They were all dirty.”
Lies.
Seohyo hadn’t stepped into mud, and none of the shoes were even ten days old since their last wash. This was undoubtedly Chaon’s plan to prevent his young mistress from going out.
Chaon was usually reluctant even to mention Lord Ga.
But this—this was just childish.
Seohyo glanced at Chaon as he carried sacks of rice.
“What about the clogs? You couldn’t have washed those too, right?”
Clogs weren’t something you could wash.
Though she had no intention of wearing clogs on a non-rainy day, Seohyo wanted to somehow get Chaon to admit defeat.
“I lent them out.”
“What?”
“The neighboring household needed a sample for making your clogs.”
Did that even make sense?
Seohyo felt like slapping the back of his head at the ridiculous answer. Narrowing her eyes, she tried her last tactic.
“You didn’t lend out my leather shoes too, did you? Those are for special occasions.”
Now, what excuse would he come up with?
Chaon, having carried two heavy sacks of rice at once, dusted off his hands and looked back at her with a completely untroubled expression.
“Look around. They should be somewhere in the house.”
Seohyo, doubting whether she’d misheard him, tried to glare at him.
“Hand them over.”
Chaon looked at his sleeve as if he hadn’t heard her. Seohyo made the most threatening face she could, scolding him. She wasn’t a five-year-old, yet he was hiding her shoes to keep her from leaving.
Sometimes she knew Chaon could be obstinate, but this was extreme.
“If you don’t give them back, I’ll leave like this!”
“Perfect. You won’t get far in shoes that drag along the floor like that anyway.”
“Hey, you, house steward!”
“You’ll likely be eating lunch at home, yes? Anything special you’d like?”
This wasn’t working. It seemed he wouldn’t reason with her at all.
Seohyo made a quick decision and returned to her room. Chaon, who had been relieved thinking his young mistress had sulked herself into hiding, was shocked when Seohyo emerged.
Peeking out from under her lovely lilac outfit were her worn-out shoes.
“Are those not the shoes I made you discard eight years ago?”
“You remembered that well.”
Seohyo smiled proudly.
“You pretended to throw them away, but while you were preparing meals, I picked them back up. You can’t easily find shoes this comfortable.”
“I see…”
“It was worth hiding them. I’ll be going now, Chaon.”
No sooner had she turned than he grabbed the back of her neck. Every time, she felt treated like a child. Seohyo scowled.
When she was turned around, Chaon’s serious expression met her gaze.
Seeing him sigh in frustration, Seohyo’s frown softened.
“I’ll give them to you. Change into them.”
“You said you wouldn’t.”
“You seem determined to go out. If you wear those shoes, dirt and sand will get inside the cracked soles.”
Chaon brought her outdoor shoes. Contrary to his earlier claim that he had washed them, they were completely dry, but it was his sigh that bothered Seohyo more.
She had been with Chaon for a long time, yet this was the first time he opposed her so stubbornly without giving any reason. Even in his obstinacy, he usually had a reason.
He personally helped her put on her shoes. For someone who had hidden them to prevent her from leaving, it was a surprisingly careful gesture.
When Chaon straightened up, their eyes met at a higher level.
“Don’t frown.”
Seohyo pressed down on the space between his eyebrows.
She wished he would just tell her. What was bothering him? Why had his expression grown darker lately? If he explained, she would share his burden.
Receiving care without being able to return it felt uncomfortable.
Chaon was her steward. Naturally, he prioritized the safety of his young mistress over himself, yet at some point, Seohyo wanted to be of help to him too.
Perhaps it was because of what she had heard from Mirang.
The man Mirang had mistaken for Chaon—he had a lonely, sorrowful face, she said.
Was Chaon also making that expression somewhere unknown, without letting her know the reason?
The thought alone was unpleasant.
“You’re frowning again. What’s bothering you so much?”
Chaon stared at her. Seeing his expression, Seohyo, who had hoped for a serious answer, instead found her cheek grabbed.
“Ah! Oww! It hurts!”
Her soft cheek stretched like mochi.
“Even if the young lady stands still, stories cling to her from all directions. I’m worried that if you step outside, one accident will follow another. Understand?”
“Ah! Let go!”
“You understand, yes?”
“Ah!”
Only after her cheeks turned red as if dipped in flower dye did the mischievous steward release her. Seohyo, furious, tried to kick him in the shin, but he lunged again to pinch her cheek, and she shrieked as she ran away.
Bang! Crash! Thud!
She ran past the gate and kept going. Only then did she stop, holding her sore cheeks.
“Nasty Chaon. Completely hopeless. Forget all that worrying I did.”
She had asked, but he still didn’t understand her feelings.
Hmph.
Pouting, Seohyo quickened her pace toward her original destination.
“If it’s not buried in a gutter, it must have appeared in the second-hand market.”
Seohyo first visited the most reputable shop she knew. There were no stores openly dealing in stolen goods, so the sign outside simply read “Books.”
They did sell and lend books, but the owner’s secret side business was known only to a few.
“This is the hairpin? I heard it was lost inside the castle a year ago.”
Seohyo handed a sheet of paper to the goat-bearded shop owner.
After the owner’s only son recovered from a stomach ailment with medicine Seohyo had recommended, he had repaid the favor by giving her first pick of popular books.
“It was lost a year ago, so it will be difficult to find…”
The owner frowned slightly. He lived by his eyes, and after glancing at the paper twice, he shook his head.
“I don’t know. At least, it hasn’t passed through here.”
“What about other regions?”
“Hmm.” He stroked the thin beard under his chin.
“The craftsmanship is unique, but it’s neither a celebrity’s heirloom nor royal treasure. It’s not something worth competing for in another region. It’s either still in the castle or already in someone’s possession.”
He listed several other second-hand stores. Seohyo thanked him brightly, though he gave her a wary glance.
“Are you going alone?”
Seohyo blinked innocently, and the owner’s face stiffened further.
“And your servant?”
“My steward. Today, I came alone.”
It seemed she would continue alone tomorrow and the day after.
Even without her saying more, the owner seemed to understand. Noticing her lingering reliance on Chaon, Seohyo turned to examine the list of stores again.
“Could it be dangerous?”
“There are a few places you shouldn’t even set foot in.”
The owner’s last words echoed in Seohyo’s mind:
—A flower left unguarded is tempting to snatch entirely.
“…But the flower has its own will, you know.”
Muttering, she organized the list.
“Do I look that defenseless?”
All the stores he listed were inside the castle. Her apothecary was outside. A short walk, roughly fifteen minutes, would bring her there. She entered the castle and began visiting the shops one by one.
She moved boldly but came up empty-handed repeatedly.
Even if she returned empty-handed, her courage only grew. All the stores were near the main roads, and she could sense passersby outside the gates. The atmosphere wasn’t as bright as the first shop, but there was no reason to be afraid.
The next day, Seohyo marched into the castle again.
At the last shop on the list, she encountered the situation the owner had warned her about.
“That looks familiar.”
The man who glanced at her looked like a frivolous ruffian. Normally, Seohyo wouldn’t have bothered responding.
His clothes were silk, but cheap, and the metal tip on his fan was far from refined.
Though he acted like a wealthy noble, it was all for show. He seemed the type to loiter in gambling dens or near brothels.
Yet Seohyo, exhausted, wanted any clue about the hairpin. The fact that there were two others in the shop also encouraged her.
“Where did you see it?”
He smiled smugly, clearly pleased to have drawn her attention.
“So, this hairpin…”
He reached to snatch the paper showing the hairpin. Even Seohyo’s sharp remark—that if he already knew it, he didn’t need to see it again—didn’t faze him.
“I want to take a closer look,” he said, holding onto it stubbornly.
He scanned the drawing with a knowing nod.
“Sign of allegiance?”
Seohyo recognized the probing question.
As a woman’s hairpin held meaning, so too did a hairpin’s significance. It wasn’t a mere gift for beauty—it conveyed intent.
If a lady sought a hairpin, she wasn’t doing it for fashion, so the easiest guess was that it was a token. Seohyo knew this.
Yet there was always a small chance.
If she could get even a small clue from this frivolous man, she was willing to play along.
She didn’t protest.
“It doesn’t suit a lady’s modest style… But did you give it, or did you receive it?”
“Just tell me the location.”
“Goodness, quite sharp-tongued, aren’t you?”
He smiled, feigning surprise.
“To be respected, one can’t have an ordinary temper. From seeing you come here alone, I can roughly figure things out.”
If only she were a deity of fire…
Even if in charge of insects, she could send ants to bite him.
Seohyo often let small matters slide, but sometimes she regretted her limited power.
Right now was such a time.
She tried to snatch the paper, but he raised it out of reach.
“No, you shouldn’t refuse information like this.”
“I’ll pass. Just give me the paper.”
“Standing on tiptoe suits you.”
Back home, she would open her vast medicine cabinet and check his head.
He had none—no brain. Ah, it was etiquette he was missing. Who does he think he is, being so rude?
She decided to wait and strike cautiously if anyone tried to harm her in the future.
Seohyo glared, waiting until he lowered his arm, then lunged to grab it—but failed. His laughter echoed in the shop.
Her calm face turned red with anger.
The paper he’d taken was the only visual record of the lost hairpin. She considered making another, but the intricate colors couldn’t be replicated with paint.
That was it.
The only source closest to the real thing—and she had foolishly let it be taken.
Anger from losing it tangled with the frustration at the man. Her breath quickened. She couldn’t go to the authorities; if the man discarded the paper while she was gone, that would be it.
Just wait. My power may be tiny, but my friends… and their friends…
Seohyo clenched her fists.
Even tiny deities like her friends fulfilled their small, precious duties in the human world.
Some were so clumsy they didn’t even get back money loaned to humans.
It wasn’t a good harvest, but they smiled awkwardly, scratching their heads, thinking the debtor could repay slowly. They had plenty of time.
Even when the borrower aged and died, and the grandson offered a basket of potatoes, they simply laughed.
Those were the kinds of beings they were.
Even if they sought revenge for Seohyo, the most they could do was hide her shoes forever, making her search endlessly.
Perhaps she should have rushed, snatched the paper, and run.
Biting her lip in frustration, a large hand suddenly reached for her—precisely targeting her thin arm.
Oh no, this is dangerous.
If he caught her and pulled her close…
“Shall I remind you, assaulting a woman is fifteen lashes?”
Thwack.
Someone intercepted the man’s arm. His log-like arm couldn’t move after being grabbed by another.
“What?”
“Chaon?”
Seohyo’s eyes widened.
