Seon stormed out, leaving Ryang alone with his thoughts. He sighed, pressing his palm against his tired eyelids.
Late that night, Ryang finally sat down to write a letter to Seong. Dara usually sat beside him, grinding the ink and offering quiet companionship, but now, he was alone. He filled the inkstone with water and began grinding the inkstick, the familiar scent filling the empty space. Even when the ink was sufficiently ground, he couldn't stop; his listless hand moved in endless circles. He finally stopped when the ink reached a thick consistency, then carefully laid out a sheet of paper and picked up his brush. But he couldn't bring himself to write.
The events of the past few days overwhelmed him, and tears welled in his eyes. He'd been crying frequently since he woke up, his emotions fragile and unpredictable. He was afraid of this newfound vulnerability, haunted by Ryucheon's warning. Dara's life hung in the balance, dependent on the words he was about to write. What right do I have to decide her fate? He couldn't justify her death, nor could he justify sparing her. The memories of their shared laughter felt like a distant dream. What does it all mean? Is our time together meaningless? He wanted to erase Dara from his life, but he feared that without her, there would be nothing left.
Dara had become a part of him gradually, teaching him, helping him, comforting him, ever since he had to take over the family affairs after his father's sudden death. And Ryang had done the same for Dara when she was forced to take on her father's responsibilities after he disappeared at sea. He couldn't dismiss all those years, the shared pain and affection, with a simple explanation of Hwan's schemes. As time passed, his anger and betrayal faded, replaced by a lingering sense of pity. He was afraid that if he could trust Dara again, he might fall back in love with her. The paper, once smooth and flat, was now crumpled in his hand.
He wanted to see Dara again. He had questions, that was all. This isn't longing, he told himself. With a heavy heart, he rose to his feet. He had hesitated last night, but tonight, he wouldn't turn back. He picked up a lantern and headed towards Dara's confinement.
The lock clicked open with a heavy thud. Ryang cautiously pushed the door open. The dim light of the lantern barely reached the figure huddled in the shadows. Dara, sensing his presence, shrank back against the wall.
"Dara," Ryang called out.
Dara shook her head violently. "I don't know anything," she whimpered.
Ryang approached, the lantern illuminating her fear-stricken face. Her eyes, wide and pleading, filled him with a deep sense of despair. He remembered gripping her slender neck, his fingers tightening, his anger threatening to consume him. Was it truly myself who wanted to kill her? No, it's the poison, the lingering effects of the Crystal Haze, that has driven me to such violence. He wanted to deny the murderous intent that had flickered within him, but the guilt wouldn't fade. Do I have the right to forgive myself? Is Dara's betrayal truly a sin deserving of death?
"It's been a while since I called your name," Ryang said. "And that's all you have to say?"
Dara lowered her head.
"What are you so afraid of?" Ryang asked.
"Everything."
"Everything?"
Dara knelt on the floor, her body wracked with sobs. "My choices may seem foolish to you, but I saw no other way. That's all there was to it. I didn't have any plans, any backup. But I'm more than just your beloved. I'm my father's daughter, too. I was just trying to survive, to find a way to save him."
"Now that I've returned alive, knowing of your betrayal, Cheon Hwan won't spare your father," Ryang said.
Dara's sobs intensified. When she finally calmed, she spoke. "I couldn't just do nothing, give up."
Ryang's heart ached. He wanted to lash out, to accuse her, but he held back. Dara hadn't included him in the things she couldn't let go of. He was what she had given up. The realization was a bitter pill to swallow.
"There's nothing left for you to protect now," Ryang said. "What are you so afraid of?"
Dara looked up, her face stained with tears. "I want to live."
"So it's your own death you fear," Ryang concluded. He knelt before her, their eyes meeting.
"I want to save you too," he confessed, the words escaping his lips before he could stop them. "But you need to show me the way."
"The inn, the merchant house, this rear garden... Aren't those all yours?" Dara asked.
"It's not that simple."
"What way do I need to show you?"
"Tell me where you hid the assets. House Myeonghyeon's assets are Wicheong's military funds. If I can't recover them, I have no justification to spare you. Your father's life isn't a sufficient excuse to absolve you of your betrayal."
Dara pleaded with him, her eyes filled with desperation. "I truly don't know anything about that. If I could live, if I could win back your favor, I would tell you anything. But I have nothing to say. Please believe me."
Ryang hesitated. Am I being foolish again, allowing myself to be swayed by her words? He saw Hwan's mocking smile in her tear-filled eyes. He gently cupped her face, lifting her chin, his gaze searching hers. He wanted to see if there was any deception hidden within, any lingering betrayal. But all he saw was the Dara he knew, the Dara he had loved. Overcome with a surge of longing, he kissed her, his lips pressing against hers with a desperate hunger. Dara gasped, her breath catching in her throat. Their tears mingled as their bodies pressed together, the warmth of their embrace momentarily eclipsing the harsh reality of their situation. Ryang's hands moved from her face to her neck, his fingers tracing the delicate skin beneath her collarbone. The intimacy of his touch brought him to his senses. He pulled away.
"The Third Emissary will return to Wicheong tomorrow," he said.
Dara's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "And then I'll be dragged away?"
"I don't know," Ryang admitted. "The Guardian will decide your fate."
"You're still a coward," Dara said.
Ryang met Dara's gaze. She continued, her voice steady despite his intense stare.
"You've always been like this. Swift and decisive in all matters, except when it comes to me. You always need an excuse. When you push me away, it's because you're busy, because of the circumstances. Perhaps even when you draw me close, I'm just an excuse. Because I was the one who initiated it. I was the one who kissed you, who climbed on top of you. You must think you simply succumbed to my seduction. It's the same this time. You're not making any decisions yourself. You'll simply follow the Guardian's orders regarding my fate. The decision isn't yours to make, is it?"
"How can you say such things to me now, in this situation?" Ryang retorted in disbelief.
"I'm not denying my guilt," Dara countered. "I'm merely pointing out that you hold my life in your hands, yet you're asking me for answers I cannot give. Does this mean you have no intention of sparing me?"
Ryang's voice rose in anger. "Do you think I came here at this hour because I lack reasons to condemn you? You might have been playing me all along, but I was sincere. I meant it when I said I wanted to save you. I'm still struggling to understand whether you're deceiving me or I'm just a fool, but I wanted to believe you, despite everything. I wanted to find a way to save you, but you spit venom and poison, repaying my sincerity with such hateful words!"
Dara crawled closer, her voice breaking as she pleaded with him. "Then just banish me from Birahng. I can live quietly, forgetting all about Wicheong, House Myeonghyeon, everything. I'll live quietly."
"I told you. It's not that simple."
"What's so difficult about it?"
"Because I am more than just your beloved," Ryang spat.
The words left a bitter taste in his mouth, but made everything clear. He had expected accusations, recriminations, but Dara simply lowered her head, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
"Then end my suffering and kill me," she finally whispered. "But if you're going to kill me, do it with your own hands."
Ryang's head throbbed, his breath catching in his throat. He rose to his feet.
"I don't know what I expected when I came here," he said.
He turned and left without another word.
Even after slamming the door shut and returning to his room, even after mirroring Dara's cruelty with his own harsh words, Ryang still hesitated. Coward. Dara's words echoed in his mind. His hand trembled as he held the brush, and he set it down, closing his eyes. He had declared that he was more than just her lover. Just as Dara was both his lover and Mahnry's daughter, Ryang was Seon's brother, Seong's loyal subject, and the High Councilor of Wicheong Palace, responsible for countless lives hidden within Nahmgyo.
As dawn approached, painting the sky with hues of blue and gray, Ryang finally began to write. By the time the morning sun filled the room with its pale light, he had finished two letters. He sealed them and summoned Sobi to the rear garden. He handed her one of the letters.
"Have you gathered everything?" he asked.
"Yes, High Councilor," Sobi replied with a bright smile. "I'll deliver this immediately, so don't worry."
But Ryang's expression remained grim. Sobi, sensing his unease, waited patiently.
"Third Emissary," Ryang began, "I have a favor to ask."
"Please, speak freely."
Ryang was about to speak when the door abruptly swung open, the unexpected intrusion startling both him and Sobi. It was Seon, her face etched with worry. Her gaze briefly flickered towards the letter in Sobi's hand, but she quickly addressed the more pressing matter.
"Brother, the Second Emissary is here," she announced anxiously. "He brought several soldiers with him. Is he trying to get us caught?"
"What's he doing here?" Ryang questioned, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"How should I know?"
The situation was perplexing. Cheongro had never visited House Myeonghyeon before. And since news of Ryang's recovery hadn't yet reached Wicheong Palace, there was no way for him to know.
"Where's Baek Ryucheon?" Ryang asked Seon.
"He's at the guesthouse."
"Keep him there. Make sure he doesn't run into Cheongro."
Ryang instructed Seon to relay the message to Cheongro to wait at the guesthouse and then, after straightening his clothes, went to meet him. He couldn't shake a sense of unease. If Seong, worried about the lack of news, had sent someone, it wouldn't have been Cheongro. He entered the room where Cheongro was waiting, his heart pounding. Cheongro sat hunched over, toying with a teacup. He looked up as Ryang entered, his expression surprisingly calm. He should have been shocked to see Ryang walking, considering the last time he saw him, he was being carried away on a stretcher.
"You've recovered," Cheongro remarked with a slight bow. "The Guardian will be relieved. He's been quite worried."
"Why have you come?" Ryang asked. "There are eyes everywhere."
"It must be urgent," Cheongro replied evasively.
"If he wanted to see me, there's no reason to send you," Ryang countered.
Cheongro chuckled. "I only just learned of your recovery. I wouldn't have come looking for you otherwise. But now that I've seen you're well, you need to return to Wicheong with me."
Ryang felt a growing sense of unease. Cheongro had always been subtly antagonistic towards him, but his blatant disregard for etiquette and his threatening demeanor were alarming.
"I can't leave Nahmgyo," Ryang stated firmly.
"Because of the Princess?" Cheongro sneered. "Then you should cooperate quietly and avoid causing a scene." His smile vanished, replaced by a menacing glare.
"Explain yourself," Ryang demanded.
Cheongro glanced around, then asked with a sly grin, "Where's your servant, Dara?"