The night sky stretched out over the valley, dotted with clusters of softly twinkling stars. The campfire in the center of the camp danced, casting a warm glow on everyone's faces. The aroma of grilled meat and spices filled the air, mingling with the sound of the river babbling in the distance.
The Raven group sat a little on the edge of the circle, still feeling awkward amidst the group of soldiers and servants and speaking a foreign language.
Karin whispered softly to Lisa, "I have no idea what they're talking about, but it sounds really fun."
Lisa glanced around. "How are we supposed to chat if their language is different? We don't want to just blurt things out and end up looking weird."
Kevin chewed his grilled meat slowly, then whispered, "Seriously… is this the bear meat from earlier?"
Kyle clicked his tongue. "What's wrong with you? You're such a drama queen. You're making a big deal out of just eating."
"Huh? What do you mean, you clown!" Kevin snapped back.
"Ssshh, enough already, you two," Lisa cut in, glaring at both of them.
They were all about to get into a fight over a minor issue but fell silent immediately when they saw Min-ji walk past them carrying a teapot.
On the other side, Seo-rin sat near the campfire, facing Raven directly. She looked calm, but her eyes kept stealing glances at the man sitting a little ways off, his clothes still slightly damp, staring at the fire with a blank expression.
Finally, Seo-rin stood up and walked over, carrying two cups of hot tea. She stopped in front of Raven, bowing her head slightly.
"Can I sit here?"
Raven glanced over briefly, then nodded. "Go ahead."
Seo-rin sat down slowly next to Raven, placing one of the cups in front of her.
"Spiced tea from the north," she said with a small smile.
"It's usually drunk to warm the body after a long journey. And… I think you're still wet. Drink it, before you catch a chill."
Raven accepted the cup without saying much, only murmuring, "Thank you."
They were silent for a moment.
Only the sound of burning wood could be heard, occasionally accompanied by the soft crackle of the embers.
Seo-rin stared at the fire before her, then glanced briefly at Raven.
"So… are you really travelers?" she asked lightly, trying to start a conversation.
Raven took a sip of his tea before answering briefly,
"More or less."
Seo-rin smiled faintly, her gaze returning to the fire.
"It must be nice… living like that. Unbound by rules, able to go anywhere without anyone holding you back. Just walking… enjoying the long journey."
Raven didn't answer right away. He just stared at the surface of the tea in his hand, as if deep in thought.
"..."
Seo-rin continued, her voice softer, almost as if she were talking to herself.
"There are so many places I want to visit. Sometimes I think… maybe one day I'd like to try living like that. To be a wanderer, even if just once in a while."
Raven finally spoke, his tone flat.
"So that's how you see a wanderer?"
Seo-rin flinched slightly.
"Uh… does that sound strange?"
"No," Raven replied briefly. She lifted her cup slightly, then set it down again.
"You're not entirely wrong."
He paused for a moment before continuing.
"But… life like that isn't as easy as you imagine."
Seo-rin tilted her head.
"Not easy?"
Raven gave a slight nod.
"Free and with nothing holding you back."
"But at the same time… there's no place you can think of to go back to."
The light in her eyes dimmed slightly, yet she remained calm.
"Moving from one place to another without a clear destination… eventually feels like you don't really have anything. Including… a place you can call home."
Seo-rin fell silent.
The fire before her flickered gently, casting a glow on her face, which now looked more serious.
"So… that's how it is," she murmured softly.
"I always thought… that if we're free, it means we're also free from everything that weighs us down."
She paused for a moment, then glanced at Raven again, this time for longer.
"I can't imagine living like that," she continued softly.
"Always on the move… with nowhere to truly return to."
Seo-rin gave a small, stiff smile.
"I guess it sounds funny, doesn't it? Someone like me… who lives without want, talking about freedom like that. Actually… do I even have the right to say that?"
Raven glanced at him briefly, then turned her gaze to the fire in front of them.
"Who says you don't have a right?"
Her tone remained flat, but it didn't sound dismissive.
"Your thinking isn't wrong." He paused for a moment, then continued slowly, "Status, power… none of that is something you'll hold onto forever."
The fire crackled softly as the wood inside collapsed slightly.
"Even someone as high as an emperor will eventually leave his throne," Raven continued.
"In time… everyone will go back to living their own lives."
Seo-rin fell silent, listening.
"Freedom isn't something you can't have," Raven said again.
"It's just… the time hasn't come yet."
She took a sip of her tea, then added in a lighter tone,
"There are things you don't need to overthink."
"As long as you can keep moving forward… that's enough."
Seo-rin looked at her, trying to grasp the meaning behind those simple words.
"I don't know when that time will come," she murmured softly.
"But… I hope that one day, I'll be able to feel it."
Raven didn't answer.
Yet the silence that fell afterward no longer felt oppressive.
Only the sound of the fire crackling, and the night breeze blowing gently between them.
A few seconds passed.
Seo-rin stared at the fire, as if seeking courage, then said softly,
"Umm… sorry, Jin. I want to ask you something, but… maybe this is a bit rude."
Raven took a small sip of the tea. The warmth slid down her throat.
"It's okay. Just ask."
Seo-rin gave a slight nod. "All right… actually, I've been watching you for a while now. It feels like…" She hesitated for a moment.
"You look… lonely."
Raven raised an eyebrow slightly, not out of anger but more out of confusion.
"Lonely?"
Seo-rin gave a faint smile, but her gaze remained steady.
"Yeah… I don't know why. From the moment I saw your eyes… it feels like there's something empty inside them."
Raven fell silent.
"Even though you have friends," Seo-rin continued in a voice as soft as a whisper,
"your gaze… for some reason feels so cold toward them. As if there's a distance between you."
She lowered her head slightly, not wanting to seem presumptuous.
"I don't know what makes you that way, and I don't want to judge. But… someone who lives with a gaze like that… must have been alone for a very long time."
The firelight danced in Seo-rin eyes, reflecting as if trying to see into the depths of Raven's heart.
"I'm sorry if my words were too much," she added quickly.
Seo-rin took a breath.
"I'm just… curious. And a little worried," her voice softened, almost drowned out by the crackling of the fire.
"For some reason, when I look at you, I feel like I'm looking at myself."
Her words hung in the air, and without realizing it, her thoughts drifted to the past.
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Young Seo-rin grew up in a grand mansion that was always bustling with servants, guards, and business matters, yet felt lonely to her.
She never really had any friends.
Her family was always busy. Her father was immersed in calculations and contracts, and her mother was rarely home for long. She did have an older sister who loved her, but for little Seo-rin, that wasn't enough. She longed for someone to play with… someone who saw her not as "Eunha," but as an ordinary child.
One day, that loneliness drove her to do something reckless.
She slipped out of the mansion, headed to a small settlement near the forest, and played with the local children. For the first time, she laughed without a care, without a title, without those respectful stares.
Before she knew it, evening was turning to night.
When she finally returned, the entire estate was in a panic. Servants and guards had searched everywhere. When Seo-rin was found, the relief turned to anger and fear, especially in her father's eyes.
In his panic, her father assumed it was the village children who had influenced Seo-rin. His anger nearly boiled over into punishment. The children's families were summoned, forced to kneel, crying as they hugged their children, begging for forgiveness from the Eunha family.
That scene was etched into Seo-rin heart.
She cried, begging her father to stop it all. And though punishment was ultimately not imposed, something had been shattered that day.
From that moment on, whenever Seo-rin stepped out of the house, the villagers would simply bow their heads. Children her age no longer invited her to play instead, they bowed respectfully and kept their distance, as if she were a creature from another world.
She did know children from other wealthy merchant families, but in them she saw only calculated smiles—a closeness born of social status, not sincerity.
From that day on…
Seo-rin has never really had anyone she could call a friend.