The evening rain fell gently, like a delicate curtain woven from the breath of clouds. Beads of water clung to the frosted wooden windows, catching the soft glow of the oil lamp that flickered faintly within the dim chamber. Within the quiet room, damp with the scent of rain and time, a young lady sat in stillness, her gaze fixed upon the droplets trickling down the pane, much like the sorrow steadily pouring from her heart.
Lady Inhyeong cupped her hands beneath the dripping corner of the window, watching as the water slipped effortlessly between her fingers , just as love had once slipped through despite her desperate grasp. Her eyes, though calm on the surface, bore the weight of lingering heartbreak.
She turned toward an old journal that lay tucked in the corner of the lacquered writing table. Its pages, pressed with the fragile remains of dried blossoms, whispered stories of days long gone. Some petals were faded and bruised, while others still held the elegance of the moment they were first picked. Inhyeong brought one gently to her nose and inhaled the faint scent of memory.
"My lady…"
The voice of Moogi, her faithful handmaid, echoed softly from behind the sliding wooden door.
"Come in," Inhyeong replied with barely a breath.
Moogi entered quietly and sat beside her mistress, worry shadowing her face.
"My lady… You haven't eaten in days. Your father is gravely concerned."
"Is that so?" she murmured, her eyes never leaving the flower in her hand.
"Lady Inhyeong…"
Moogi drew her into a gentle embrace, as if afraid that the fragile figure in her arms might shatter. She understood well that Inhyeong's sorrow was not born solely from Yeongwon's silence; it stemmed from an old wound, one that time had never truly healed.
"Why… why did he abandon me?" Inhyeong's voice cracked with grief. "No one loves me anymore… do they?"
"No one ever did…"
Her sobs filled the quiet room like a sudden gust of wind, shaking the stillness with grief. Moogi held her tighter, unable to offer comfort beyond her embrace.
The door suddenly slid open with a forceful sound.
Lord Yoo Sanghun, Inhyeong's father, stood at the threshold. His face was stern, eyes trembling with a storm he had long suppressed. When his gaze fell upon his daughter, her hair disheveled, cheeks stained with tears, his heart clenched with helpless fury.
"Enough of this foolishness, Inhyeong!" he roared.
Startled, she turned toward him.
"F-Father…"
"Do you realize how weak and pitiful you appear in the eyes of others? Do you know what shame you bring upon our name?" His voice cracked. "You… make me feel worthless as a father!"
"I-I'm sorry… I've been a fool…"
Inhyeong knelt at once, bowing her head to the floor. Her hands trembled in supplication, her tears soaking into the polished wood beneath her.
Lord Yoo stood still, his lips pressed into a hard line. He turned sharply and left the room without another word. As the door closed behind him, the tears he had held back fell silently onto the wall of the corridor.
"Father…"
Her voice followed him faintly through the door, tinged with sorrow and guilt. She reached down and gathered the crushed petals that had fallen to the floor, now nothing but dust mixed with tears.
Inhyeong carefully folded the petals into a square of fine cotton, then sat at her writing desk. With hands still trembling, she took up a brush and began to write. The ink wavered with the unsteadiness of her grip, some words blurred with fresh tears, but the message from her heart remained clear.
When she was done, she placed the dried petals inside the letter, tied it gently with a silk string, and handed it to the household messenger.
"Take this to Master Yongwon," she said. "Tell him… I only ask that he read it."
Elsewhere, in another part of the capital…
Yeongwon sat in silence upon a mat of woven reeds. The room around him was quiet, filled only with the distant sound of rain upon the roof tiles. His heart felt heavier with each beat, clouded with regret.
(Why… Why did I walk away from her, when all I wanted was to stay…)
He clutched his chest, breath unsteady as his thoughts spiraled. A soft knock came at the door.
"Master Yongwon…"
"Yes… What is it?"
"A letter has arrived, sir," said Bunsu, the steward, with quiet deference.
Yeongwon turned his head sharply toward the door, his heart pounding before he even reached for the letter. The faint scent of dried flowers met his nose as he accepted the bundle wrapped in pale silk.
He knew immediately… who it was from.
"Bring it in..."
Yeongwon's voice was calm, but the tension laced within was unmistakable. Bunsu opened the wooden sliding door with practiced silence, stepping inside with a folded letter wrapped in pale cotton,its faint floral scent trailing behind. He handed the letter to his master, then retreated without a word, leaving Yeongwon to face the feelings he had long avoided.
Yeongwon took the letter with hesitation. His fingertips grazed the fabric gently before unfolding it, revealing thin parchment stained faintly with teardrops that had long since dried, but still spoke of fresh sorrow.
He read:
"Yeongwon… I do not know why you didn't come. I waited for you… for so long. Perhaps I deserved this. Perhaps you had every right. We've now passed each other on separate paths… perhaps we'll meet again, or perhaps never.
I'm grateful that you remain,
even after all that I've done, all that's unforgivable.
Today, I disappointed my father greatly.
He shouted at me…
And now, I truly have no one left."
His hand trembled slightly. He looked up and picked up a small petal tucked into the letter. Its faded fragrance lingered, mingling with the soft afternoon wind, a scent that carried not only flowers, but memories.
The petal slipped from his fingers, dancing lightly in the breeze before falling to the wooden floor, as if mirroring the fragments of his heart that had begun to loosen.
He followed its path with his eyes, then, without another thought, snatched his hat from the peg and strode out the door.
"Bunsu!"
His voice rang out across the veranda. The servant, who had been drawing water in the garden, jumped in surprise.
"Coming, coming, young master! What's with the shouting? I was just working, young folks these days are always so hasty!"
He rushed toward the house, panting. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, Yeongwon passed him by swiftly, not even glancing back.
"Where are you headed, young master?"
"Don't interrupt, I haven't even spoken yet."
Bunsu pouted in confusion, then watched his master walk off with urgency in his step.
"So what is it you want, then?!"
But no answer came.
Bunsu was left scratching his head alone in the courtyard.
"What in the world… Calls me over only to leave? Madness."
He grumbled, turning back toward the kitchen, unaware that every word had fallen upon a pair of very alert ears.
In the corner of the kitchen, Soran had been quietly chopping vegetables. But the moment she heard Yeongwon's name, her hand stopped.
Her gaze wavered. She said nothing, only set down the knife and basket with delicate care, then rose and walked out without a word. The kitchen maid beside her stared after her in silent shock.
Bunsu, just finishing his rant, turned and saw Soran leaving. His eyes widened.
"W-wait, I wasn't talking about you! I only said what I saw, that's all!"
Another maid nearby gave him a side-eye and muttered under her breath:
"You said it all, alright…"
Meanwhile, Yeongwon walked beneath the drizzle that still lingered after the storm had passed. Raindrops clung to the eaves, falling quietly onto the damp stone path. His heart beat so fast it nearly stumbled over itself.
He arrived at the lakeside pavilion, the place where he had first met Inhyeong. The air was cool and laced with the scent of rain, but no breeze, no calm surface of water, could extinguish the fire within him.
He sat slowly on the polished wooden bench, eyes gazing out across the tranquil pond. Yet his thoughts churned like waves beneath the still surface. He was not here to remember… but to listen, for a voice he had tried to forget.
He knew too well: no matter the wrongs she had done, the sight of a woman pleading not for love, but for simple forgiveness… had made something inside him tremble again.
And now, he waited.
Waited for someone…
Someone who still lingered as a wound within his heart.
Soran quickened her pace along the stone path that stretched toward Yeongwon's grand residence. Her trembling hand slowly pushed open the wooden lattice door. Yet, inside the house was empty, no sign of the young lord she had sought. Only a single letter and scattered dried flower petals lay strewn across the floor, like fragments of a dream fallen from someone's heart.
She lifted the letter to read. Her bright, watery eyes began to overflow, tears streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably, not from pity for the bitter words on the page, but from a heart tightly clenched by the pain of love, forced to share the man she adored with another.
Swiftly, Soran wiped her tears with the back of her hand before fleeing the house, her heart heavy. Yet this time, the tears would not cease. As she stood quietly, struggling to steady her thoughts, Kurum happened upon her and hurried forward with concern.
"Soran, please tell me... who? Who has made you like this? Why do you cry so?"
Kurum's voice was gentle and filled with a love and care that Soran had never known before.
"Soran... I..." She barely started to speak when Kurum pulled her into a tight embrace, soothing her with tender words.
"It's alright... It's alright, Soran."
Yet beneath that warmth, Kurum's heart was filled with deep pain, helpless to free her from the shackles of her past life. Though within him burned a fierce desire for her to wear fine ornaments and live as a truly happy woman.
Still, with newfound resolve, Kurum released her, gripping both of her arms firmly. His touch pressed lightly on her shoulders, but his grip was strong, the sound echoing sharply in the stillness.
"Soran, are you ready? Will you run away with me? I see how hard you work until you are exhausted. Though you dress like a princess, your eyes glisten with sorrow. Why do you not flee? I will take you away."
Soran gently withdrew her hands from his grasp. Her voice, soft yet tinged with sadness, quietly spilled forth.
"You have given this household life and refuge to this day. How could I betray you? And Lord Yeongwon... he is not a cruel man. He has always honored me. It is I who have failed myself. Do not blame anyone else, Kurum."
A cool evening breeze swept past the young man and woman beneath the pavilion by the water's edge. Yeongwon gazed silently at Inhyung, who sat calmly receiving the breeze, her eyes free of the sorrow he had read in the letter.
He sat in stillness for some time, then rose and stepped closer, causing Inhyung to turn toward him in surprise.
"Yeong...won..."
"I will be leaving now," Yeongwon's voice cut through the words Inhyung was about to speak.
Inhyung rose, her heart empty, her face pale as a shadow stirred by the wind.
"Yeongwon... did you come to see me out of pity?"
"No... I came because of myself..." His hands clenched into fists. He could not meet her eyes directly amidst the fragile silence and tense air.
Inhyung's voice trembled, pressing him.
"Then why do you not say it aloud?"
"Yeongwon..."
Yeongwon stood silently, caught in the torment of his own heart, weighed down by the unbearable pressure that left him speechless. Yet, within him lingered a deep sympathy and an unbreakable bond with Inhyung, too profound to bring her pain. He sighed deeply, striving to calm his restless spirit for a moment before slowly lifting his gaze to meet Inhyung's eyes.
Her eyes shone with a quiet radiance, no less bright than Soran's both fragile women, delicate and deserving of gentle care.
But in the end, Yeongwon wearied and turned his face away, knowing full well that he could never truly hurt her heart.
"I understand..." Inhyung's voice trembled, tears shimmering at the corners of her eyes as she slowly turned to walk away, wiping her tears in solitude.
"No... I did not come out of pity," Yeongwon hastened to deny, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
"In that case... why have you come?" Inhyung asked hesitantly, her voice faltering.
"I came because once, we shared warm feelings for each other, and I still hold those feelings for you. Yet when you are in sorrow and need of comfort, I cannot leave you alone," he replied gently.
Those words caused Inhyung to pause and turn back toward him, asking softly,
"If one day, I am no longer in pain, will you cease to come?"
"Perhaps I will not come then... But if you ever wish for me to rejoice in your happiness, I will come," Yeongwon smiled warmly.
"I understand..." Inhyung replied, though the sweetness of his words was not entirely embraced within her heart, for she still harbored a quiet hurt. Yet, she forced a faint smile in return.
"Whenever you are troubled, send me a letter at any time. I will come to you at this very place."
Yeongwon smiled, preparing to take his leave. Suddenly, Inhyung reached out and grasped his hand.
"Wa-wait!"
"What is it?" Yeongwon turned with a look of surprise.
Inhyung exhaled deeply before running forward and embracing him tightly.
"Ah... Inhyung, you..." Yeongwon froze, caught off guard by the sudden warmth.
"I just want to hold you, my friend," Inhyung smiled, a genuine happiness shining in her eyes.
Yeongwon walked wearily back toward his home, choosing a hidden path behind the house to avoid drawing attention to where he had been. The world around him was silent and still, broken only by the soft sound of his footsteps and the gentle rustling of leaves stirred by a faint breeze.
Beneath a large tree by the roadside, he found Bunsu lying leisurely, scratching his belly contentedly, and whistling a carefree tune. Without hesitation, Yeongwon strode up and deliberately kicked the round, plump backside of the servant.
"Ahhh, my lord!" Bunsu cried out in surprise, clutching his rear with a pained expression.
"Stop making such a fuss. I barely kicked you," Yeongwon teased sharply.
"Even a gentle kick hurts, Your Highness," Bunsu protested softly.
"By the way... have you seen Soran anywhere, Bunsu?" Yeongwon asked with a suspicious glance.
The moment Bunsu heard Soran's name, his whole body stiffened. He jumped up abruptly, putting on an innocent face and trying hard to act as if he knew nothing.
"N-no, Your Highness. I haven't seen Soran at all," he stammered.
"You suddenly twitching like that, are your nerves acting up? Your words sound strange, like someone hiding a secret," Yeongwon grumbled like an old man, then turned away in displeasure, heading straight for his small house. Bunsu was left standing there, flustered and unsure of what to do.
The quiet atmosphere lingered, with only the rustling leaves and Bunsu's heavy breaths betraying his obvious worry.