THWCS 29

Chapter 29

Ishin once again took a careful look at the tidied courtyard, the flowerbeds free of scattered weeds, and the main hall that had been freed from years of dust, before turning his gaze back to Yeongwon.

No matter how diligently she had cleaned, the hair that had probably been neatly tied at first had fallen in strands across her face, and black smudges marked her cheeks and nape. Her clothes were no different. The silk, once crisp, was now wrinkled and dusty; parts of the skirt appeared frayed, almost as if holes had formed in the fabric.

Somehow, he remembered the first time he saw Yeongwon looking like a beggar in the mountains. Well, after wandering like that for several days, the current state was comparatively clean.

In addition, Yeongwon’s right hand held a mottled piece of cotton cloth. Judging by its shape, it seemed she had nodded off while briefly leaning over the table to wipe it.

“Ha…”

Ishin sat with one knee raised, resting his hand on it and his chin upon his hand. His eyes wandered to the main hall, now clean, and then to the inner quarters, hazy with dust and spiderwebs. Whoever had arrived, it seemed that today’s cleaning of the courtyard and main hall had been the best they could manage. Even so, she had fallen asleep like this.

“Milady! Your back is sticking to your stomach! I brought the boiled potatoes…!”

A maid burst in through the side door, her voice ringing out, then froze at the sight of Ishin seated in the main hall. Ishin recognized her as a loyal servant who always stayed by Yeongwon’s side.

“Potatoes? Sugar? You need sugar to make them taste good.”

Ishin turned at the murmured voice from beside him and saw Yeongwon stretching and yawning.

“Ha…hm?”

Ishin regarded her without expression. Meeting his gaze, Yeongwon froze for a moment, then hesitated and stepped back.

“L-Lord…! When, when did you arrive?”

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?”

Still half-asleep, Yeongwon blinked with a tousled look. Ishin narrowed his eyes and looked at her. The reddish sunset settled over Yeongwon’s face: neat eyebrows like an ink painting, calm eyes with drooping tails, a small but delicate nose, plump red lips, and a few strands of hair that had slipped loose across her face.

He recalled Yeongwon as a child, round like a glutinous rice cake. The chubby cheeks had vanished, the gap in her lower teeth filled in, and her slender, delicate frame swayed like a willow branch. The meddlesome girl who once brought strange herbs to apply medicine was no longer a child. She had grown into a captivating woman who could make even a breathtaking sunset seem dull in comparison.

Even Ishin, who had never paid attention to a woman or allowed his heart to wander, had to admit it: Yeongwon was more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen. But that was all.

Time, which had briefly stopped, began flowing again. Ishin sensed another presence approaching from just behind him. He turned, drawing the sword from its scabbard at his waist, aiming it.

Sorae, who had been about to leap onto the hall as if cornering Yeongwon, froze when the tip of the scabbard touched her solar plexus.

“I-I am Sorae, Lord. I am my lady’s maid… I surrender!”

Not knowing how to lower the sword aimed at her, Sorae blurted out whatever words came to mind. Yeongwon, now fully awake, quickly rose and stood in front of Sorae, blocking Ishin. She pushed the scabbard with both hands.

“I wasn’t trying to attack Lord. I was going toward him.”

Sorae behind Yeongwon nodded hastily. Ishin glanced sharply at the two attendants before sheathing the sword again. Sorae felt as if a blade had just been lodged in her chest and then removed. Her hair stood on end, and her chest chilled.

A normal man would have been no match for Sorae, but Ishin was different. If the scabbard had been the blade itself… Sorae shivered at the thought, feeling relief only after checking that no wound existed. She then moved to stand firmly in front of Yeongwon, though she knew she could not match Ishin in any way.

Unlike the tense Sorae, Ishin relaxed and sat by the table, draping his arm over it. Sorae quietly nudged Yeongwon back and whispered so softly that Ishin could not hear:

“Milady, I think we’ve done enough. Let’s go back. Lord doesn’t seem pleased. It’s better to talk when he’s in a good mood, isn’t it?”

Sorae did not realize that even that small whisper had reached Ishin, causing the corner of his mouth to lift slightly.

“Go ahead,” Ishin thought. He no longer wanted to waste energy on Yeongwon. But Yeongwon had other plans.

Yeongwon climbed back onto the main hall, holding the basket of steamed potatoes Sorae had brought.

“Milady!”

Sorae, expecting Yeongwon to return to the guest quarters, smiled brightly—then turned pale when Yeongwon placed the basket in the center of the table and sat cross-legged opposite Ishin. Her heart seemed to drop to the floor. Ishin’s cold aura was palpable.

Yeongwon calmly picked up two potatoes and called Sorae:

“You were singing about being hungry, right? Eat these first.”

“Milady!”

Sorae caught the lightly tossed potatoes and called out desperately again, but Yeongwon shook her head. Seeing the faint darkness under Yeongwon’s eyes, Sorae suddenly recalled something and silently stepped back to the corner of the hall.

It wasn’t for any other reason.

The curse of Honmong.

Because of the curse, Yeongwon had to converse with Ishin—and there was a high chance Ishin would become her husband. But how could such a terrifying man and their lady, delicate as a flower, ever suit one another? Sorae was too anxious to even think of eating the potato she held.

But Yeongwon was different. Having eaten breakfast and worked alongside Sorae all day without a sip of water, she was now exhausted. Her back ached, her arms heavy, and her legs like iron. She had dozed off wiping the table earlier, unaware Ishin had returned.

Her rumbling stomach gave her no choice. She glanced at the potatoes, then at Ishin, hesitated for only a moment, and reached for one. She peeled it, feeling liberated after enduring the life of a beggar for over a month.

There was no longer any need to worry about appearances, manners, or proper posture.

She offered the peeled potato to Ishin, feeling a weight lifted from her chest.

“Please, try it.”

It didn’t matter whether Ishin took it or not. Yeongwon ignored Sorae’s wide-eyed stare from below.