Yelan looked at him for a long moment, the quiet stretching just a bit. Then she tilted her head, her voice coming out light but direct. "Why would the lord think it was me?"
Jinshi didn't look away. He leaned back a little on the wall, his hands resting easy on his knees. "Because I saw you that night. Clear as now. And this smell around you... it reminds me of things I don't want to forget. I've caught it before—not just today. That day, outside the rear palace kitchen. In the preparation hall a few days back. Three days ago, when I came here and saw you with the petals. Even this morning, during the festival."
Yelan raised an eyebrow, a small spark in her dark brown eyes. "The lord had that much time to notice a small maid like me? Interesting."
He met her gaze steady, his tone calm and simple. "It's the kind of thing that catches notice. Hard to miss once you do."
She let out a small laugh then—soft, quick, like it surprised even her. "I've heard the lord has so much palace work. But it seems that's all talk." Her lips curved just a touch, the sound light in the still air.
Jinshi didn't feel any anger at the tease. No disrespect hit him. Instead, a warmth spread inside, watching her smile for maybe the first time. He didn't know why it pulled at him like that—her face open, unguarded under the moon. It just did.
"Think as you please," he said, his voice even, a hint of that warmth slipping in. "But that wasn't the answer I asked for."
Yelan paused, then nodded once. "Okay, my apology, my lord. So should I say yes or no?"
"I'd take that as truth," he replied, simple and direct.
She smiled again bolder this time, freer, like the calm, graceful maid he knew had stepped aside for someone else. An introverted spark, bold in quiet ways, the opposite of the gentle Yelan she'd shown the palace. She spoke easy now, words flowing without the weight of walls or titles. To her, he wasn't the high lord of the rear palace, the one with power and eyes everywhere. Just a man, human as anyone. Jinshi noticed it all—the shift, the way she talked like she came from somewhere else, unbound. He liked this version more, though he kept it to himself. No need to say it yet.
"No," she said, still smiling. "It wasn't me."
Jinshi nodded slow. "So I got the answer now."
Yelan just kept smiling, her eyes on the scattered petals, the quiet settling easy.
He cleared his throat after a beat, shifting a little. "Your bandage is coming loose. I see blood there. It must hurt a lot. I know it wasn't poison, but enough to burn skin easy. And it gets worse with time."
"Yeah," she said, glancing at her hand under the shawl. "It hurts a little bit, but it's fine. I'm used to this kind of thing. But here... maybe because I'm in this place, it's a different pain. Anyway, it's good now."
Jinshi just looked at her, taking in the way she talked—casual, different from before. Like another layer peeled back. He didn't ask about it. Didn't say a word. Just let it sit.
"You knew early, right?" he said after a pause. "That the spill was meant to harm me. So you stepped in front."
"Yep," she answered quick, no hesitation. "Because you have a beautiful face. And you're well-known here. It would have caused you a lot more trouble. So I just helped."
He stared at her then, caught off guard. My lord to you?The words almost formed, but he held them. This talk—it was new, something he hadn't expected. Maybe wasn't ready for yet. Her eyes met his, steady and open, no filter.
Finally, he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small pouch—silk, tied with a simple cord. "I bought this for you from the early festival stalls. Thought it might fit you."
Yelan's eyes lit up, a real spark of excitement. "For me? Arigato, Jinshi-sama. But what's this?"
"See it when you want," he said. "Check for yourself."
She didn't notice how her old-world self had slipped out—bold, free, the human side from before this palace life. No clue at all that she wasn't the inner palace Yelan right now, just... her.
Jinshi leaned down slow, bending his taller frame to her level. Yelan froze for a second, breath catching.
He reached for her hand gentle, fingers working the loose knot on the bandage. It tightened under his touch, fitting secure now.
But then it hit him—this wasn't right. Not for his position, not with her. Too close, too familiar. He pulled back quick. "My apo—"
Before he could finish, Yelan moved—slow, calm, that graceful side returning like a veil. Her eyes went numb, deep and still, locking on his face. Moonlight caught in them, silver flecks dancing. Her hair shifted with the night wind, soft strands framing her like a quiet storm. Jinshi forgot everything else—words, walls, the garden. Just her: eyes, face, hair. Etched deep.
"Thank you so much, my lord " she said, voice steady, full of real feeling. "I'll always feel grateful for this. Thank you a lot."
The words hung soft between them, the wind dying down. He straightened, the warmth still there inside, unnamed. The garden held quiet, petals still on the ground, as the night wrapped close.
His breath stilled.
He did not speak.
He only watched her.
And for the first time, curiosity stirred in him not as duty — but as something deeper.
Who are you, really?
The plum branches whispered above them.
And the garden remembered her name.