Chapter 7
“How on earth did you end up in a place like that?”
“By accident…”
“Shouldn’t we contact your parents?”
“My parents are gone.”
Soha observed the woman speaking in a gentle yet elegant tone, her voice brimming with concern.
In her previous life, those who were kind to her always wanted something in return. And their demands inevitably brought pain.
“Oh dear… I see. But don’t you worry. We will take care of you.”
Soha turned her focus inward. Her energy felt twisted. Something warm lingered inside her, yet at the same time, a cold, dark force coiled tightly within. It was a strange sensation.
Fidgeting her fingers against the unfamiliar warmth of someone’s hand, her fingertips brushed against the hem of a white robe. She realized then that her clothes had been changed.
“Forgive me. I changed your clothes.”
“It’s all right. Thank you.”
“Try moving your hands and feet. When you first came here, your whole body was frozen stiff.”
“…I see.”
Soha checked her limbs. Lady Cheon Unseon, watching her, felt her mouth go dry. The girl had awakened after a week in an unconscious state, and now she was no longer a fox but a human again.
Unseon had dressed her in small garments at dawn and nursed her for two hours since.
“I’ll prepare rice porridge. After not eating properly for so long, your body may not take heavy food.”
As Unseon pressed her hands against the bed to rise, Soha flinched. Pausing, Unseon studied the girl carefully.
“Are you in pain?”
“N-no.”
The only noblewomen Soha had ever met were those of the Black Tortoise Clan. Whether it was that memory or another, she found herself startled by the woman’s movements—and then startled again at her own reaction.
Unseon, sensing it, deliberately slowed her movements, stretching out her hand in full view of Soha. She gently brushed the girl’s shoulder, then softly stroked her head.
“I’ll let the family know you’ve woken, bring you warm porridge… and first, I should tell Ihwan.”
The calm, steady voice eased Soha’s tension. Though this place was unfamiliar and frightening, it was warm, safe, and not threatening.
Just as Soha nodded, the door burst open.
“You’re awake!”
It was Ihwan, bundled in furs, his hair unkempt. Unseon gave a small laugh at the sight.
“How did you know?”
“Wait—she’s human now!”
Ihwan gaped at Soha’s transformed appearance, jaw hanging open.
Soha simply stared at him. Compared to the boy she had seen in the land of eternal night, this version seemed entirely different.
His golden hair, falling to his jawline, fascinated her. The crimson silk robes, the jade earrings, the necklaces of gold and jewels—everything contrasted sharply with the muted clothing of the Black Tortoise Clan.
“So this is what you really look like? No wonder I was fooled by that cute little fox face… I kept—”
Kept…?
Soha blinked at Ihwan’s babbling. Even Unseon tilted her head, watching her son mutter nonsense.
“Anyway! Because of that bond thing between us, I knew the instant you woke up!”
“And how’s the cold?”
“Mother, I was born with fire in my veins as the Vermilion Bird Clan’s heir. This kind of cold is nothing—”
“For ‘nothing,’ you’re wearing quite a lot.”
Unseon chuckled at his thick furs, and Ihwan’s ears turned red.
“M-Mother! That’s not—”
“Stay by Soha’s side. I’ll inform the clan head.”
As Unseon withdrew her hand from Soha’s, the girl felt the warmth vanish. Rubbing her own hand, she found only lingering cold.
“I’ll be back soon.”
Unseon left. Ihwan shuffled closer, awkward but determined.
“I’ve only ever seen my grandfather transform. Never anyone else.”
“Transform?”
“You didn’t know? You’ve been a fox for a whole week!”
Soha blinked in surprise. In her past life, she had never once taken fox form.
“You were no bigger than my arm. Pure white. I was afraid you’d freeze solid, so I carried you to the Red Pine Courtyard the whole way, worrying…”
“You saved me?”
“I wanted to.”
He could have claimed credit outright, but guilt gnawed at him—after all, it was partly his fault she had nearly died.
“If you’d died, that would have made me a murderer!”
“It was my choice.”
Her calm reply silenced him. She hadn’t saved him purely out of compassion; she had also calculated that sticking with his group might give her a direction, instead of wandering lost.
“Thank you.”
Her sincere words startled him.
“My father taught me never to ignore a debt. We repay kindness and enmity alike. So—you had to live, or else my heart wouldn’t rest easy.”
He scratched behind his ear, awkwardly adding,
“Besides… your life is my life now too…”
Soha tilted her head, puzzled. Staring at her wide, unknowing eyes, Ihwan groaned and ruffled his hair.
“It’s because of that dagger! We’re cursed to share life and death!”
“…What?”
Finally, he fixed her with a solemn gaze.
“We’ve become each other’s destiny.”
Soha studied his determined face.
He explained about the Hyupundo, the divine blade. Powerful relics always carried risk, and the blade’s curse was unique—two lives bound as one.
Soha realized that must be why she had survived.
‘Our fates are tied.’
It was hardly good news—for either of them.
“Don’t be afraid. My father will undo everything.”
“Do you mean… the Clan Head of the Vermilion Bird Clan?”
“Exactly. My father.”
“Is there really a way to break it?”
“There’s nothing my father can’t do!”
His words overflowed with trust and admiration. Soha, an orphan, found the warmth of such devotion strange.
“Your illness, this curse—he’ll fix it all. And if he can’t, I will.”
Soha recalled the boy chasing her through the land of eternal night. Was it arrogance, or innocence? Perhaps both.
“My sickness isn’t just from the blade.”
“What?”
“It’s an old illness. From long ago.”
“What does that matter? Old or new, we’ll cure it anyway.”
He dragged a chair to her bedside, sat down, and stared into her eyes.
“I thought your eyes were black. But they’re closer to blue.”
“….”
“And your hair too.”
His gaze was so intent, she half-expected him to reach out. But he kept his hands firmly on his knees, only watching her.
“Maybe it’s just because your skin is so pale. Are you cold? Want me to share my energy?”
“Energy?”
Ihwan raised his hand, palm open.
Soha hesitated, then placed her own hand in his, as if humoring a puppy asking for a paw.
He closed his eyes, channeling the Vermilion Bird’s fire into her. Heat surged into her hand, startling her at first—but his calm expression soothed her.
What had felt hot soon melted into gentle warmth. The icy chill inside her body receded.
‘Amazing…’
Soha closed her eyes, savoring the warmth.
“Is it warm?”
She nodded slowly.
