Fic: Better Late Than Never
2025-08-17 10:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rodoTitle: Better Late Than Never
Fandom: Knight Flower
Author:rodo
Length: 7639 words
Rating: 12+
Genre: romance, humor
Pairing: Cho Yeo-hwa/Park Soo-ho
Disclaimer: everything belongs to MBC
A/N: written for kaitou during 2025’s![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandom5k
Summary: Yeo-hwa is back in Hanyang, but getting together with Soo-ho turns out to be a bit more complicated than she had imagined. But then again, when has their relationship ever been simple?
Better Late Than Never
Mischievous banter, a hand on her wrist, an elegant twirl like a practised dance move, and Cho Yeo-hwa found herself in Park Soo-ho’s arms. He drew her close, a smile dancing on his lips as he leaned in. She had dreamed of this moment a dozen times, perhaps, and fantasised about it a good deal more often. Her heart was beating like a drum as she stared at his handsome face. His eyes closed, the smile widened… this was it, she thought. Slowly, her eyes fluttered shut and her back relaxed against his forearm—
“Captain Park!”
Yeo-hwa couldn’t help it; her eyes opened and she straightened her spine, catapulting her forehead right into his face.
“Ow!” Soo-ho was gripping his forehead, eyes wild and confused. In the distance, the calls of the guardsmen became louder. Yeo-hwa watched as realisation dawned on him, still caught in a stupor. “Go,” he told her, a sour frown marring the face that had just smiled so seductively.
Yeo-hwa didn’t have to be told twice. She ran off into the darkness as she had countless times. Only this time, her heart wasn’t pounding from the thrill of the chase. All she could think about was his lips. What a first night back in Hanyang.
*
Soo-ho found her the next morning. Yeo-hwa was snoozing in her room – the one that used to be hers back before she got married and that now smelled slightly stale and dusty after a year of disuse – hugging her pillow, when a voice intruded on her dream about delicious dasik.
“My lady!” he called, and suddenly her dream shifted to present her with his handsome, smiling face, fuzzy around the edges and couched in a strange halo that made everything seem ever so perfect.
“My lady!” Soo-ho called again and Yeo-hwa sat up, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. She was still wearing her black outfit, and a puddle of drool was drying at the corner of her mouth. It was also rather likely that she smelled of sweat after running half the night, and her hair probably wasn’t as neat as it should be. How embarrassing. She wiped away the drool and sighed. If only reality could be as pleasantly uncomplicated as a dream.
“My lady?” His voice was quite a bit closer now, and she could hear him trying to take off his boots at the door.
“Yes, yes!” she shouted. “I’ll be right out!”
She wasn’t, of course. Instead, Yeo-hwa tried to find her cleanest hanbok while throwing her black vigilante clothes across the room. The trousers ended up draped across her pillow and the shirt crashed into a screen she had all but forgotten existed. And to make things worse, her old mirror was no good at helping her straighten her hair. She had to give up; Soo-ho was waiting.
“Good morning,” she said when she poked her head out the door. He was pacing across the yard and his cheeks flushed slightly when he spotted her. It seemed his cocky confidence dissipated like dew when the sun came up. There were also bags under his eyes, but the maroon of his captain’s uniform glistened brightly in the sun.
“Good morning,” he replied, smile as bright as the moon. He looked so pretty when he smiled, she thought, and not for the first time. Not that he wasn’t handsome when he wasn’t…
“Have you slept at all?” she asked him.
He turned his head to look at the tree in the far corner of the yard. “I had work to do,” he told her. “We had to process some scoundrels, after all.”
“And the girl?”
“Back with her family. Thanks to a certain someone to whom she’d very much like to extend her gratitude.”
Yeo-hwa smiled. It always felt good to help people, but she wasn’t looking for thanks. Just the warm, filling feeling from having made the world a tiny bit better. Soo-ho shared that particular quirk. She supposed that was why he was such a good guardsman. He was walking towards her now, like a prowling tiger. Memories of last night surfaced and Yeo-hwa wondered if she’d end up in his arms again. Then he stopped short three respectful steps in front of her.
“I am glad you’re back, my lady. I wish I had the time to catch up with you, but my promotion came with a lot of paperwork. Can you come by the Capital Guard later? Or should we meet at Myeongdo Inn?”
Yeo-hwa considered her options for a moment. On the one hand, Myeongdo Inn provided a more intimate setting for their reunion. On the other, there was no way she would get to enjoy those benefits; Madam Jang no doubt wanted to hear all about her travels first. “I’ll come by the Guard.”
Soo-ho beamed at her before making his goodbyes. At the gate, he turned towards her again and smiled. She was quite glad she was back as well, Yeo-hwa thought. Then she remembered the state of the house and the clothes she’d strewn about the only clean room in a frenzy. It appeared as if she had quite a busy day ahead of herself as well.
*
Kkot-nim looked down her nose at Jeong. He would never tell her – he wasn’t stupid – but she looked quite cute whenever she did so, like a kitten pretending to be a big, bad tiger. “You know,” she began, “you should really spend less time telling stories and focus on selling your wares instead. It’s a merchant’s job to make as much money as possible, and you’re falling short by quite a bit.”
“Well, Master Kkot-nim, I can’t help the fact that I have a gift,” Jeong pointed out, “and that gift is entertaining lovely ladies with thrilling tales of adventure and love. And if they keep coming back to listen to my stories, they eventually end up buying more than they would have if they had just stared at my hairpins and rings for a little while. I get to tell my stories and make money, and they get entertained on top of a fashionable new accessory. It’s a win-win.”
“Ween-ween?” Kkot-nim mumbled to herself, then shook her head a little and tutted. “You should tell stories about your pins instead. That’s what a proper merchant would do. Women want their jewels to have stories, not stories alongside their jewels.”
She might have a bit of a point there, but unlike her, Jeong thought that there were more important things in life than making money. He still had a house, a mother who loved him, and his business was profitable enough, why aim for more when you already had everything you wanted. The Buddha would approve, even if his young master didn’t.
“My lord…” The voice that spoke was shaking, and when Jeong turned to face the man it belonged to, he was as well. There were scratches on his cheek, his clothes were in disarray and he hadn’t even bothered to straighten his paeraengi. He looked like he’d ended up on the wrong end of an angry wife, which most certainly was not what had happened; Jeong recognised the man, and his wife was the most even-tempered woman he had ever encountered.
“Chang-min?” he asked. He hadn’t expected him for another fortnight at least. And with a donkey and a cart full of Qing hairpins and Western treasures at that. Something was very, very wrong. Jeong didn’t need the tears welling up in Chang-min’s eyes to figure that out.
“It’s my lady,” Chang-min managed to explain between sobs, and then the entire story tumbled out of him in bits and pieces like rocks rolling down a slope. Each revelation hit Jeong in the stomach harder than his father’s insults ever had. By the end, he was horrified beyond belief, his heart filled with one single thought: he needed to get help, and he needed it yesterday.
Jeong’s feet took him to the Capital Guard before his head managed to formulate a proper plan. He stormed inside, disregarding the military officials who tried to dissuade him. He knew the way, and for once, being raised as Lord Seok’s son actually proved helpful. He knew how to exude an aura that no common guardsman would dare argue with. All it took was a straight back, a grim face, and a confident stride, which led him to his destination in no time.
Captain Park’s office looked the same as he remembered. The same applied to the man who was currently blinking at him in mild confusion. His ever-present shadow hovered behind him, looking far more excitable than his master.
“Seok Jeong,” Captain Park greeted him “What’s the matter?”
“My wife has been abducted.” There it was, the fact that he still hadn’t finished processing. His darling Catherine, the apple of his eye, his sun, the light of his life. He hadn’t even known that she’d decided to come to Joseon. Her family obligations had kept her busy this last year, leading her to Guangzhou while he’d come to settle things with his own family. It had been a tearful parting, and they’d both expected it to last two years. And now, it might last forever. No, Jeong told himself. He balled his fists. He’d see her again, even if he had to scour all of Gyeonggi and Hwanghae for her.
“Your wife?” Captain Park seemed quite alarmed. His face was ashen, his eyes wide, and he was gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. “But I just saw her this morning. She was fine. When did this happen?”
“This morning? But the fiends grabbed her almost a week ago, on the road from Pyeongyang.”
Jeong stared at Captain Park. Captain Park stared at him. For a moment, neither seemed to understand what the other was saying. How could Captain Park have met a woman who’d been suffering unimaginable horrors for days already, yet still insist she was fine? Then it dawned on Jeong.
“Lady Cho is back?” he asked. That was good news. One more person to help him. She was almost family, after all, and incredibly useful in a fight. Plus she’d never turn her back on a woman in need.
“You’re not talking about Lady Cho?”
“Of course not! I’m talking about my wife. My real wife. She was on her way from Beijing with a couple of servants and merchants and my new shipment of wares. Then these bastards waylaid them in the forest at night, killed most of the men and took her hostage. They’re demanding a literal king’s ransom. Ten thousand yang within the next fortnight, or else they’ll sell her to the highest bidder.” His proud Catherine, a slave. She would never stand for it, and whatever master was stupid enough to buy her would beat her to death soon enough. Jeong was certain of it. He couldn’t let it happen. If only he had the money…
It hurt to see Captain Park’s shoulders and face relax, even if it stayed serious. Nobody cared about Catherine the way he did, of course, but there was a petty part of him that wanted others to feel this pain so that they might fight that much harder to save her.
“Tell me everything,” Captain Park told him, and he gladly did. About the ambush, Chang-min’s estimate of the bandits’ numbers, the location, the dead, and most of all the ransom. It appeared Catherine’s unusual looks had drawn the bandit leader’s interest and he reckoned she must be worth a fortune to her people. They didn’t realise that she was a mere merchant’s daughter, not a diplomat’s or duke’s. And while her father might have the money, it would take the news months to reach him, and even longer for the fortune they had demanded to be sent to Joseon. By the time it arrived, it would be too late. Captain Park and the Capital Guard were her only chance.
*
The Capital Guard was quite busy, like an anthill, with men in uniform streaming out in a hurry while others returned, sometimes with one miscreant or another tied up. It was quite fascinating to watch the display of industriousness. At least to Yeo-hwa, who hadn’t ever had the opportunity back before she’d left Hanyang to find her equilibrium. She’d never had the leisure to just watch without fearing the judgement of others. And of course her nightly visits had been filled with much more pressing tasks. It was refreshing, just being able to walk through the gate like a normal woman, head covered to preserve her modesty. Her heart sped up at the prospect of seeing Soo-ho again, even if it had been mere hours since they last talked.
She found him easily enough. He looked rather dashing in his element, standing over a table with Bi-chan while he studied what seemed to be a map. There was an adorable frown of concentration on his face as he stroked his chin. Bi-chan behind him seemed almost like a copy of his superior: the same stance, the same frown, the same tilted head. They hadn’t spotted her yet, so Yeo-hwa cleared her throat as she lowered her veil and stepped forward. Soo-ho’s face lit up, then fell just as abruptly.
“My lady,” he told her, all solemn and serious. There was no trace of last night’s playfulness. “I’m afraid something has come up.”
When he proceeded to tell her what had happened, she curled her hands into fists. “This will not do,” she told him. “I’m going to help.”
“My lady…” he tried to argue with a glance towards Bi-chan reminding her that they were not alone. “This is a matter for the Capital Guard.”
Yeo-hwa straightened her back. She wasn’t going to sit by, and he should know better by now. “Do you remember how I snuck out of Lord Seok’s residence that one time?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
She watched as realisation dawned on him. “Very well,” he told her. “I’ll prepare everything. Bi-chan, send a message to the garrison in Gaeseong. We’re going to send some men up to investigate a missing merchant caravan and would appreciate their assistance.”
“Yes, sir!” Bi-chan cried and scurried off. He was quite cute in his dedication to his master and work.
“You won’t regret taking me along,” Yeo-hwa promised him once Bi-chan was out of earshot.
Soo-ho smiled at her. “No doubt,” he told her. “I fear this is going to be more dangerous than it seems. Only someone very stupid or very strong would decide to abduct a foreigner and demand a horrendous ransom.”
“Well, whoever they are, they no doubt didn’t count on two of Joseon’s best sword fighters coming to save the lady.”
They shared a smile, then went their own ways to prepare after Soo-ho handed her a bundle containing a guard uniform. Back home, Yeo-hwa sighed. She hadn’t even managed to get settled properly. Only half of her cleaning was done. Her black vigilante dress really needed a wash, but… it wasn’t as if she needed it, per se. She already had a very good disguise. But in a way, when she wore it she felt more like herself than she did in many of her other clothes, and there always was a chance that something unforeseen came up. She packed it.
The next morning, Soo-ho awaited her at the threshold of her home. The moment he spotted her, there was that bright smile again. He’d come far this past year – and it warmed her heart to see that he had taken this particular with of hers to heart.
“It suits you,” he told her once she stood by his side. Yeo-hwa looked at herself and didn’t know what he saw. As far as she was concerned, she must look like all of the men under his command. He saw this uniform a hundred times a day. “Are you ready?” he added.
“Of course. Let’s go and catch some bad guys!” She started walking in the direction of the horses tied up underneath a willow. Soo-ho followed a moment later.
*
“I’m sorry that we don’t really have any proper accommodations,” Soo-ho told her with a blush on his youthful face. For the third time. Truth be told, Yeo-hwa felt quite flushed herself when confronted with the tiny room. There was barely enough room on the floor to spread two mats. It really wasn’t proper – except it was. To the innkeeper, she was just a subordinate officer, travelling to Gaeseong with his captain. There was nothing wrong with sharing a room under those conditions, especially since all the others were already occupied.
“It can’t be helped,” she told him. They had been this close – and closer – a few times now, and nothing had happened. They would be fine now too. It was just one night, and they were both exhausted. Another half-a-day’s ride and they’d be at the garrison in Gaeseong. Yeo-hwa pursed her lips and nodded to herself. She could do this.
“Are you sure, my lady? I can—”
“Nonsense. You need a good night’s sleep as much as I do and the horses won’t let you get one. I’ve been on the road for a year. I’m used to this sort of thing.” Yes – when it came to sharing the room with other women, not with a man who was… whatever they were. It was hard to tell, at least for her. They seemed perpetually trapped in a valley of uncertainty between being strangers, friends, and something much closer.
Soo-ho was much closer to her than a friend should be when they both lay down on their respective mats. Yeo-hwa wanted to hide beneath her rough-spun blanket when she saw his face mere inches from hers. Oh my, she thought. She was close enough to see tiny flecks of lighter brown in his irises, despite the sparse light. As if he were reading her mind, he hoisted himself upwards and blew out the candle, their only light source. When he lay back down, he was nothing more than a dark shadow that she could barely distinguish from the darkness surrounding them.
“Good night,” he told her. His breath brushed against her cheek. She wondered if he would lean forward, finally pressing his lips against hers… it felt as if they’d been dancing around this moment forever.
Yeo-hwa gulped. “Good night,” she replied. Then she turned to her other side. This wasn’t the time, she told herself, drawing the blanket close again. She was absolutely sure that she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep.
The next thing she consciously sensed was warmth. The kind of warmth that was both inside you and outside you, as if there was no border between the two. Yeo-hwa sighed and burrowed deeper into it. She hadn’t felt this comfortable and cherished for as long as she could remember… then a vague memory floated to the forefront of her mind, one of a time when she had been small and her parents had comforted her after a nightmare. She’d spent the night wrapped up in their arms with her head pillowed on her mother’s pillow. Back then, she’d been safe and cared for and no worries clouded her sleep. So it was no wonder that the feeling of an arm wrapped around her waist evoked that nameless, forgotten feeling from her childhood—
Wait? What arm? Yeo-hwa crashed into wakefulness as if she’d run towards it at full speed. Outside, countless birds greeted the morning sun. In the distance, the innkeeper was rummaging through pots and pans. But all of that was mere ambient noise to the sound of Soo-ho’s breath, steady and calm and right next to her ear. At some point in the night, he must have wrapped an arm around her, drawn her body next to his and buried his head in her hair. Yeo-hwa thought she might die from the embarrassment. Yes, that’s what it was. Embarrassment. Her cheeks felt as if they were on fire as she frantically looked for a way to disentangle their bodies before he woke up.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped. Soo-ho was part octopus, it seemed. Once she’d carefully moved his arm back to where it belonged, he leaned in closer and sniffled at her neck, then slung a leg around hers. When she’d finished extracting her legs, his arm moved to hug her again. For a short moment, she wondered if it would really be so bad to just give up. She came to the conclusion that it absolutely would be and began again, this time even more carefully. First, the wrist. She slowly pushed it backwards, inching across her waist. Yeo-hwa held her breath. Just a little further and she’d be free…
Soo-ho sneezed. “Wha—” he asked, voice still hoarse from sleep.
Yeo-hwa didn’t have to answer, he stiffened all on his own. Her hands were still holding his wrist. She dropped it like it was on fire. For one torturous moment, they stayed like this, frozen in absolute mortification. Then Yeo-hwa rolled forward, out of the nest of blankets and into the wall. She dimly noticed Soo-ho colliding with the opposite one, cursing.
When she turned to look at him, his face was beet-red and he couldn’t meet her eyes. Not that she was any more comfortable meeting his. She struggled to her feet.
“I’m going to settle things with the innkeeper. We better get going if we want to reach Gaeseong today,” she told him, retrieving her gat before hurrying out of the room. Behind her, she heard him call “My lady!”, but she wasn’t ready to face him. All she wanted to do for the moment was to forget the lack of decorum they had both displayed. At least until this case was solved and Lady Elizabeth was back in her husband’s arms.
*
“I have a question,” Yeo-hwa asked Soo-ho. He turned to her, waiting for her to speak. There was still a slight flush on his cheeks whenever he looked at her. He’d attempted to talk to her about the night during their ride, but she’d rebuffed him each and every time. “Do all garrisons look alike?”
They were standing in the courtyard of the garrison of Gaeseong. Around them, a gaggle of soldiers went about their business. Some of them sent a couple of intrigued glances their way, but most of them didn’t pay them any mind. They were waiting to meet the commander, General Kim, a general of some renown, and some infamy, according to Soo-ho.
“There’ve been two investigations regarding corruption against him,” he had told her, right after they had left Hanyang behind them, before things got awkward. “None of them could find any concrete evidence, but if you ask me, where there’s smoke, there’s usually fire. Nobody bothers to investigate a general unless they’re convinced he did something to merit it.”
But that wasn’t what occupied Yeo-hwa’s mind while they were waiting – at least not currently. No, she was struck by the similarities between the Capital Guard in Hanyang and this garrison. Sure, there were differences, but it was as if they’d been cast in the same mould. High, practical walls, a path leading to an archery range at the back, the beams of the doorway painted the same shade… if the buildings weren’t twins, they were at least siblings that shared a family resemblance.
“Many of them look somewhat similar,” Soo-ho told her, looking around himself as if the thought had never occurred to him. “I don’t know if it’s because the purpose or the people are the same. Or maybe the architects work off the same sets of blueprints.”
Before they could continue their discussion on this fascinating and safe topic, a man stepped out of the garrison’s main building. He was in his mid-fifties and wore a general’s uniform. Most people would likely call him handsome, despite his age. A warrior through and through, with the build to match it, even if he must spend most of his time at his desk nowadays.
“You wanted to speak to me?” General Kim grunted. A step behind him, two of his men followed him, flanking him like particularly aggressive dogs. Large, square-cut dogs in uniform. Yeo-hwa furtively studied their faces – and the way their hands lingered on their swords. One of them had cauliflower ears.
“Yes,” Soo-ho answered, stepping up and squaring his shoulders. “I sent a messenger ahead. I’m Captain Park Soo-ho of the Capital Guard, here to investigate an abduction.”
The general frowned. “Couldn’t you have sent some of your men to deal with such a trivial matter?”
Yeo-hwa bristled. Trivial? A woman was facing death or slavery! She was about to do something foolish when Soo-ho extended his hand to stop her in her tracks. Discreetly. The general didn’t notice. She collected herself and tried to remember that she was just a simple soldier right now. In a way, it was no different than playing the demure widow. Still, neither role agreed with her.
“The woman’s husband is a close friend of mine, and from one of the most prominent families in the capital,” Soo-ho explained. True, but a bit of a misrepresentation, considering that Jeong was doing his level best to not live up to his father’s legacy. “I thought it prudent to handle the matter myself. Now, do you have any information that would assist me in my quest?”
“I don’t. There’ve been no reports about a band of brigands operating in my jurisdiction. If this crime really took place where your source said it did, it was likely some strays from up north that went back the way they came, but I think it’s more likely that your survivor is mistaken, Captain Park. It happens. Merchants are not used to this kind of situation. Their memories tend to be full of holes when recounting an attack.”
Yeo-hwa watched as Soo-ho inclined his head. She couldn’t see his face, since she was standing a step behind him, but she’d swear she could almost hear him narrow his eyes. It was the way his back tensed.
“Did you check the ambush site?” he asked, his voice as sharp as his sword.
“There was none,” General Kim answered. He jutted out his chin, daring Soo-ho to challenge the word of a general. But Soo-ho wasn’t that dumb.
“Then I will have to continue and conduct my own investigation,” Soo-ho replied, “Good day.”
“Good day,” the general echoed.
Yeo-hwa followed Soo-ho out of the gates of the garrison like a good little soldier, even if all she wanted to do was spit in front of that git’s feet. He could have at least offered to send along some of his men, but no, that would have undermined the authority of this pompous ass. He had declared that there were no bandits, so there were none, even if they walked about town in broad daylight. This man deserved one of her paintings – one featuring a very pompous ass perhaps.
“What now?” she asked when they reached the horses.
Soo-ho looked at the sky. The sun still stood above the trees and buildings of Gaeseong, but not by that much. “It’s too late to set out, he declared. We’ll have to find another inn.” After the deadly silence that followed those words, he added: “One with more than one free room.”
*
“I think this is it,” Soo-ho said, staring at the rather distinctive tree bending over the path like an old gentleman carrying a pack frame stacked with wood. One branch even leaned down in such a way as to resemble a man’s cane. The witness had described the scene of the ambush quite well; even two people who had never seen it before were unable to mistake the small clearing for anything other than the place he’d painted with his words. There was only one problem.
“I see no signs of an ambush,” Yeo-hwa pointed out. There were old tracks, but this was a popular resting spot, according to their witness. It would be strange if there were none.
“I wouldn’t have expected there to be any,” Soo-ho told her. “Else the general wouldn’t have missed them. Still, let’s hope that they weren’t that thorough. There might be something in the undergrowth that they missed.”
Yeo-hwa didn’t need to be told what to do. She descended on the shrubs and bracken like a bloodhound, sweeping aside the green leaves to examine the ground below. It had rained two days ago, and here, the leaf mould still smelled slightly damp whenever her boots disturbed its rest. She combed the area for what felt like half an eternity and heard Soo-ho do the same. And yet, nothing.
“I think we need a different approach,” she told him when they both sat down in the clearing for a short rest and some water. It was no wonder the caravan had camped here, Yeo-hwa thought. It was a beautiful, peaceful place. The leaves offered shelter, and the tree seemed like a benevolent guardian standing watch. What a shame that it had all been an illusion.
A twig snapped. Yeo-hwa tensed. She was peripherally aware of Soo-ho doing the same, but neither of them moved, not until they had to.
When they did, everything happened all at once. Yeo-hwa evaded a sword that buried itself in the ground where she’d been a mere breath before while she turned to face her attacker. The man wore a nondescript black hanbok. A matching scarf covered his face. She squared her shoulders and drew her sword. Behind her, Soo-ho was already crossing swords with another man, but she trusted him to handle himself and focused on her own quarry.
The man was taller than her, and heavier, but he wasn’t as fast, as she quickly found out. After trading three blows, it was clear to her that the man might be well-trained, but she had the upper hand – she was one of the best, after all. One feint, one kick to the back of the knee, and she had her sword at the man’s throat. He stilled, staring at her with eyes filled with hatred.
“Drop it,” she told him, nodding towards the sword hanging uselessly from his hands. He did so after calculating his options. Three heartbeats later, she heard Soo-ho’s opponent do the same. Before turning towards him with a victorious grin, Yeo-hwa kicked the sword away.
“Seems like we found our lead after all,” she said.
His smile echoed hers.
To make things less awkward, she moved behind the man she’d captured while Soo-ho grabbed the scarf on his man, throwing it onto the leaves and revealing a flushed face with angry, deep-set eyes. Something about the face tugged at Yeo-hwa’s memory. It was the way his jaw looked when he clenched his teeth, she thought. It emphasised his ears…
“Hold on a moment, I know that guy!” she cried.
*
It was a beautiful night, Yeo-hwa mused as she lay on the cliff overlooking the bandit camp. There were stars and a nearly full moon and she should probably be able to recite some pertinent poem right now, but she was only marginally more talented at memorising those than she was at painting. Besides, she was rather distracted by the way her shoulder brushed up to Soo-ho’s. It was a small cliff.
“Should we talk about that night?” he suggested, voice a low rumble. She knew what night he was talking about.
Yeo-hwa sighed. “Later, when Jeong has his wife back,” she promised.
For a moment, Soo-ho seemed to consider it, and then she felt him nod. “Yes.” There was something in that one word that sounded like a promise to her – he wasn’t going to let her evade him forever, it seemed. And it wasn’t as if she wanted to. Some things were just more important. Like the loud rabble down below.
“What do you think is going on down there?” she whispered to him.
Soo-ho seemed to consider the question for quite a while. The camp at the bottom of the cliff was lit up with torches and braziers, and every so often, the sound of terrible drunken chanting floated up to their perch. Maybe the night wasn’t so peaceful after all, at least in this forest.
“They must have something to celebrate,” Soo-ho concluded. “Maybe they’re anticipating a large payout. Whatever the case, they’ve got to sleep eventually.”
Of course, but so did they. Yeo-hwa yawned at the moon and let her mind drift. Until Soo-ho cleared his throat. She was lying on her side, using his shoulder as a pillow and at some point, her hands had grabbed onto his coat. Oh, this was going too far. Why did her sleeping self betray her so?
“It’s time,” he said. She couldn’t see the blush on his face, but she could hear it in his voice. Now was not the time, she told herself. It was finally time to get these bastards. Yeo-hwa took a moment to change into her costume behind a large tree. They would have to do some sneaking about, and if everything went well, Soo-ho wouldn’t even have to get involved. In his military uniform, he’d tip the bandits off that the authorities were onto them, so he’d wait in the shadows beyond the camp unless she got into trouble. That was the plan, at least.
When they reached the camp, it was already past the dead of night. From a distance, most of the bandits seemed to be asleep, except for the two men stationed at the entrance to the shoddily fortified camp. One was picking at his teeth while the other drew circles into the dirt with the butt of his spear. Yeo-hwa took out one with a well-placed hand to the neck while Soo-ho took care of the other. With a nod, she left him to tie up the men. It was a pity it was just the two of them. In the end, the bandits would walk free – at least until the situation in Gaeseong was taken care of.
But that was for later. Lady Elizabeth came first. Later, they could collect the tied-up men working for the general – because the two men who had tried to kill them were the very same who had flanked General Kim at the garrison – and then Soo-ho would start proceedings against him. He was even more of a bandit than these villains, considering he allowed them to operate freely against a sizeable bribe.
The camp was fast asleep. Yeo-hwa didn’t even have to sneak. She did it anyway, of course. There were some embers glowing in the braziers, and the smell of dying fires still clung to the air, but the only sound she could hear from the bandits were violent snores emanating from their tents.
It didn’t take her long to find the cage. It was right next to the biggest tent – presumably the leader’s. A large, wooden contraption secured with a lock. In front of it stood the only person still conscious inside the camp. Another sleepy guard, who poked at a fire in a brazier to keep himself warm. Yeo-hwa melted back into the shadows to analyse the scene. There was a key on the guard’s belt. Inside the cage, all she could see was a heap of fabric, but she couldn’t make out any distinct persons in the dark.
The guard yawned and stretched out his hands to warm them. Yeo-hwa smiled to herself. This would be a piece of cake. All she had to do was sneak around the halo of light from the fire, hit the guard, and catch him to prevent him from making a ruckus when he fell. Unfortunately, he was heavier than anticipated, and for a moment it seemed as if she might not succeed in stopping him from toppling the brazier. Then she summoned all her strength, somehow managed to stabilise her grip on him and lowered him to the ground very carefully. Afterwards, she leaned back against the cage for a moment to catch her breath and rest her knees. The snores confirmed that Yeo-hwa hadn’t alerted any of the bandits.
When she turned towards the hostages, she saw that there wasn’t just one, but rather three distinct bodies. She reached out and touched the closest. A woman jerked awake with a gasp, and then she clapped both her hands over her mouth when she spotted a masked figure.
Yeo-hwa shushed her. “Lady Elizabeth?” she whispered, although there was little doubt that this was Jeong’s wife. This was the most foreign-looking woman Yeo-hwa had ever seen, in her Qing dress and with hair that seemed white in the dim light, a contrast to her unlined face. Her eyes were pale as well. “I’ve come to free you. Can you wake the others?”
The lady didn’t need to be told twice. While she woke her compatriots, Yeo-hwa freed the keys from the guard’s belt. She fiddled with the locks until she found the right one, and then the hostages followed her through the camp like ducklings would their mother, silent as the night. They needn’t have bothered, just like Soo-ho needn’t have bothered to wait all tense and worried. When they reached the edge of the camp, he visibly relaxed.
“That was a lot easier than I thought,” Yeo-hwa told him once they had led the hostages a good part of the way to the road to Gaeseong.
“The difficult part is yet to come,” he reminded her. “General Kim is wily, or he wouldn’t have managed to weasel his way out of two inquests.”
“These people need the fear of God put into them,” Lady Elizabeth said in her heavily accented Korean. She turned out to be quite the formidable woman, in Yeo-hwa’s opinion. She was no shrunken violet of a sheltered lady. Instead, she led the other two hostages – wealthy, middle-aged merchants from Pyeongyang – like a commander would his troops. Her former husband had chosen well.
“I have an idea,” Yeo-hwa told Soo-ho. “But I’m not sure a captain of the Capital Guard would agree.”
He frowned. Once upon a time, he had placed the law above everything else. Of course, that was before he’d become only too aware of the limits of a legal investigation. “What are you proposing?” he asked.
Yeo-hwa smiled a wicked smile. Then she told him.
*
General Kim’s residence had been easy enough to find. It was no wonder it was one of the most expensive ones in Gaeseong. The man must have made enough money to rival the king by now. And his room was the biggest in the residence. Naturally. When Yeo-hwa entered it, dressed in white, her face powdered into oblivion and her eyes obscured with kohl, she took a moment to look around. The general was sleeping soundly. And there, on the wall, was a painting of a tiger. Not the tiger, mind you, but another expertly rendered tiger, ready to pounce on an unsuspecting doe and her fawn. What was it with terrible men and their fondness for exquisite tiger paintings?
Yeo-hwa shook off the thought. Then she adjusted her hair so that it hung around her face in a loose mess, obscuring most of her features. Everything seemed to be in order. Time to wake the general. She leaned over him, careful not to disturb his rest too early, bracing herself on his other side and letting her breath brush over his face.
The general wrinkled his nose and tried to shoo her off like a fly, so she leaned in close and blew on his eyelids.
He woke up with a start. As intended. And when he spotted the figure leaning over him, he scrambled back against the wall as if he’d seen a ghost – which was precisely what she was pretending to be. Yeo-hwa drew herself up to her full height and stared down at him with her eyes as wide and crazy as she could manage.
“General Kim,” she growled, head lolling. “The dead have lost their patience with you. Too many have died because of your crimes. Now, it is time for you to pay for them. For all the people you’ve killed. For me!”
A high-pitched whine escaped his throat and he seemed close to pissing himself. Good, he deserved worse. But then he rallied himself and fell on his knees in front of her, prostrating himself and rubbing his hands together in an attempt to beg for mercy. Yeo-hwa wanted to grin, but she was supposed to be a vengeful ghost, not a gleeful vigilante. Outside, mysterious rattling noises disturbed the peaceful night. Soo-ho was doing his part.
“Mercy!” he pleaded. “Have mercy!”
“There is no mercy for those that profit from the misfortune of others. You will be punished, if not in this life, then the next, and the ones after. The only way to atone for your sins is to confess them to the magistrate, but I know the likes of you,” Yeo-hwa the ghost told him. “You would rather suffer for a thousand years than relinquish your pride.”
General Kim, who a mere day ago had greeted them so haughtily had been reduced to a puddle of nerves. It was pitiful, but that man didn’t deserve pity. So Yeo-hwa vanished like a ghost – or rather a particularly nimble woman. She’d said her piece. Now it was time to see if there was a shred of faith left in the corrupt general. It would make Soo-ho’s investigation so much easier.
*
Jeong couldn’t help it. He paced. He’d been pacing ever since Captain Park and Yeo-hwa had left to find his wife. His feet probably hurt, but he’d stopped feeling anything but all-consuming worry ever since he’d found out his darling wife was in danger. At this point, Kkot-nim had abandoned him to his ceaseless pacing, while his mother merely watched him as she occupied herself with housework. Maybe Jeong should help her fold the laundry? No, she’d tell him to get lost. He kept pacing in the yard of the Seok Residence. Grooves were beginning to form around the building that housed the master bedroom.
“My lord!” one of the servants called. The man in question came running towards him with a big, gap-toothed grin on his face, and that was all the news Jeong needed to hear. He abandoned his pacing and instead ran for the street. He didn’t even manage to make it to the doorway before the most amazing sight in the entire world made him stop abruptly.
“Elizabeth!” he called, opening his arms.
He didn’t have to offer twice. She launched herself into his arms and he twirled her around, laughing like a madman. It had been one and a half years – about one and a half years too long, in Jeong’s opinion. As he held her close and smelled her hair, he promised himself he’d never part with her again. If she needed to leave again, he’d follow her, even if she had to go all the way to England.
“Thank you so much!” he told Captain Park and Yeo-hwa, who watched the scene with slightly bemused smiles on their faces. Elizabeth’s passion was quite something to behold – fiery and open, like the blazing sun. He set her down to admire her face, cupping it with his hands. There was a part of him that couldn’t quite believe that she was real.
Then Elizabeth cupped his face as well, drawing him to her, and kissed him with all the pent-up love in her heart. Jeong was so glad to have her back, he returned it with a fervour, ignoring the scandalised gasps around them.
*
Yeo-hwa didn’t know where to look. Her eyes met Soo-ho’s wide ones – apparently, she wasn’t the only one who had not expected the reunion to be quite so… openly passionate.
“Should we…?” he asked, waving his hand back the way they’d come.
Yeo-hwa peeked back at the happy couple to see if they had detached themselves from each other. They had not. She nodded and turned away from the residence that had once been her home. There’d no doubt be enough opportunity to catch up with Jeong and his mother once he’d calmed down a bit. Unfortunately, that left her with Soo-ho and a feeling of awkward aimlessness that eventually led them to her home. All of a sudden, she was acutely aware of the fact that she was still wearing the borrowed uniform. Now that she was home, it was time to get back to her own self. She started with the gat, undoing the knot and taking it off.
“I appreciate your help,” Soo-ho told her with a content smile on his face.
“I appreciate yours,” Yeo-hwa corrected him.
He let her win. Instead of arguing, he leaned forward until his face was so close it was hard to focus on it, still smiling. And then his face moved in even closer. Yeo-hwa felt too shocked to do anything but stand there like a statue. Soo-ho kissed her, chaste and gentle and perfect, and Yeo-hwa’s heart felt like it was about to burst. Their first kiss. Somehow, the sensation of his lips meeting hers surpassed all the many, many times she had imagined them brushing against each other. It might have taken them a while to get here, but Yeo-hwa thought it had absolutely been worth the wait.
When Soo-ho finally detached himself from her, he looked quite pleased with himself. “Now, about that night…”
Fin
Fandom: Knight Flower
Author:
rodoLength: 7639 words
Rating: 12+
Genre: romance, humor
Pairing: Cho Yeo-hwa/Park Soo-ho
Disclaimer: everything belongs to MBC
A/N: written for kaitou during 2025’s
fandom5kSummary: Yeo-hwa is back in Hanyang, but getting together with Soo-ho turns out to be a bit more complicated than she had imagined. But then again, when has their relationship ever been simple?
Mischievous banter, a hand on her wrist, an elegant twirl like a practised dance move, and Cho Yeo-hwa found herself in Park Soo-ho’s arms. He drew her close, a smile dancing on his lips as he leaned in. She had dreamed of this moment a dozen times, perhaps, and fantasised about it a good deal more often. Her heart was beating like a drum as she stared at his handsome face. His eyes closed, the smile widened… this was it, she thought. Slowly, her eyes fluttered shut and her back relaxed against his forearm—
“Captain Park!”
Yeo-hwa couldn’t help it; her eyes opened and she straightened her spine, catapulting her forehead right into his face.
“Ow!” Soo-ho was gripping his forehead, eyes wild and confused. In the distance, the calls of the guardsmen became louder. Yeo-hwa watched as realisation dawned on him, still caught in a stupor. “Go,” he told her, a sour frown marring the face that had just smiled so seductively.
Yeo-hwa didn’t have to be told twice. She ran off into the darkness as she had countless times. Only this time, her heart wasn’t pounding from the thrill of the chase. All she could think about was his lips. What a first night back in Hanyang.
Soo-ho found her the next morning. Yeo-hwa was snoozing in her room – the one that used to be hers back before she got married and that now smelled slightly stale and dusty after a year of disuse – hugging her pillow, when a voice intruded on her dream about delicious dasik.
“My lady!” he called, and suddenly her dream shifted to present her with his handsome, smiling face, fuzzy around the edges and couched in a strange halo that made everything seem ever so perfect.
“My lady!” Soo-ho called again and Yeo-hwa sat up, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. She was still wearing her black outfit, and a puddle of drool was drying at the corner of her mouth. It was also rather likely that she smelled of sweat after running half the night, and her hair probably wasn’t as neat as it should be. How embarrassing. She wiped away the drool and sighed. If only reality could be as pleasantly uncomplicated as a dream.
“My lady?” His voice was quite a bit closer now, and she could hear him trying to take off his boots at the door.
“Yes, yes!” she shouted. “I’ll be right out!”
She wasn’t, of course. Instead, Yeo-hwa tried to find her cleanest hanbok while throwing her black vigilante clothes across the room. The trousers ended up draped across her pillow and the shirt crashed into a screen she had all but forgotten existed. And to make things worse, her old mirror was no good at helping her straighten her hair. She had to give up; Soo-ho was waiting.
“Good morning,” she said when she poked her head out the door. He was pacing across the yard and his cheeks flushed slightly when he spotted her. It seemed his cocky confidence dissipated like dew when the sun came up. There were also bags under his eyes, but the maroon of his captain’s uniform glistened brightly in the sun.
“Good morning,” he replied, smile as bright as the moon. He looked so pretty when he smiled, she thought, and not for the first time. Not that he wasn’t handsome when he wasn’t…
“Have you slept at all?” she asked him.
He turned his head to look at the tree in the far corner of the yard. “I had work to do,” he told her. “We had to process some scoundrels, after all.”
“And the girl?”
“Back with her family. Thanks to a certain someone to whom she’d very much like to extend her gratitude.”
Yeo-hwa smiled. It always felt good to help people, but she wasn’t looking for thanks. Just the warm, filling feeling from having made the world a tiny bit better. Soo-ho shared that particular quirk. She supposed that was why he was such a good guardsman. He was walking towards her now, like a prowling tiger. Memories of last night surfaced and Yeo-hwa wondered if she’d end up in his arms again. Then he stopped short three respectful steps in front of her.
“I am glad you’re back, my lady. I wish I had the time to catch up with you, but my promotion came with a lot of paperwork. Can you come by the Capital Guard later? Or should we meet at Myeongdo Inn?”
Yeo-hwa considered her options for a moment. On the one hand, Myeongdo Inn provided a more intimate setting for their reunion. On the other, there was no way she would get to enjoy those benefits; Madam Jang no doubt wanted to hear all about her travels first. “I’ll come by the Guard.”
Soo-ho beamed at her before making his goodbyes. At the gate, he turned towards her again and smiled. She was quite glad she was back as well, Yeo-hwa thought. Then she remembered the state of the house and the clothes she’d strewn about the only clean room in a frenzy. It appeared as if she had quite a busy day ahead of herself as well.
Kkot-nim looked down her nose at Jeong. He would never tell her – he wasn’t stupid – but she looked quite cute whenever she did so, like a kitten pretending to be a big, bad tiger. “You know,” she began, “you should really spend less time telling stories and focus on selling your wares instead. It’s a merchant’s job to make as much money as possible, and you’re falling short by quite a bit.”
“Well, Master Kkot-nim, I can’t help the fact that I have a gift,” Jeong pointed out, “and that gift is entertaining lovely ladies with thrilling tales of adventure and love. And if they keep coming back to listen to my stories, they eventually end up buying more than they would have if they had just stared at my hairpins and rings for a little while. I get to tell my stories and make money, and they get entertained on top of a fashionable new accessory. It’s a win-win.”
“Ween-ween?” Kkot-nim mumbled to herself, then shook her head a little and tutted. “You should tell stories about your pins instead. That’s what a proper merchant would do. Women want their jewels to have stories, not stories alongside their jewels.”
She might have a bit of a point there, but unlike her, Jeong thought that there were more important things in life than making money. He still had a house, a mother who loved him, and his business was profitable enough, why aim for more when you already had everything you wanted. The Buddha would approve, even if his young master didn’t.
“My lord…” The voice that spoke was shaking, and when Jeong turned to face the man it belonged to, he was as well. There were scratches on his cheek, his clothes were in disarray and he hadn’t even bothered to straighten his paeraengi. He looked like he’d ended up on the wrong end of an angry wife, which most certainly was not what had happened; Jeong recognised the man, and his wife was the most even-tempered woman he had ever encountered.
“Chang-min?” he asked. He hadn’t expected him for another fortnight at least. And with a donkey and a cart full of Qing hairpins and Western treasures at that. Something was very, very wrong. Jeong didn’t need the tears welling up in Chang-min’s eyes to figure that out.
“It’s my lady,” Chang-min managed to explain between sobs, and then the entire story tumbled out of him in bits and pieces like rocks rolling down a slope. Each revelation hit Jeong in the stomach harder than his father’s insults ever had. By the end, he was horrified beyond belief, his heart filled with one single thought: he needed to get help, and he needed it yesterday.
Jeong’s feet took him to the Capital Guard before his head managed to formulate a proper plan. He stormed inside, disregarding the military officials who tried to dissuade him. He knew the way, and for once, being raised as Lord Seok’s son actually proved helpful. He knew how to exude an aura that no common guardsman would dare argue with. All it took was a straight back, a grim face, and a confident stride, which led him to his destination in no time.
Captain Park’s office looked the same as he remembered. The same applied to the man who was currently blinking at him in mild confusion. His ever-present shadow hovered behind him, looking far more excitable than his master.
“Seok Jeong,” Captain Park greeted him “What’s the matter?”
“My wife has been abducted.” There it was, the fact that he still hadn’t finished processing. His darling Catherine, the apple of his eye, his sun, the light of his life. He hadn’t even known that she’d decided to come to Joseon. Her family obligations had kept her busy this last year, leading her to Guangzhou while he’d come to settle things with his own family. It had been a tearful parting, and they’d both expected it to last two years. And now, it might last forever. No, Jeong told himself. He balled his fists. He’d see her again, even if he had to scour all of Gyeonggi and Hwanghae for her.
“Your wife?” Captain Park seemed quite alarmed. His face was ashen, his eyes wide, and he was gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. “But I just saw her this morning. She was fine. When did this happen?”
“This morning? But the fiends grabbed her almost a week ago, on the road from Pyeongyang.”
Jeong stared at Captain Park. Captain Park stared at him. For a moment, neither seemed to understand what the other was saying. How could Captain Park have met a woman who’d been suffering unimaginable horrors for days already, yet still insist she was fine? Then it dawned on Jeong.
“Lady Cho is back?” he asked. That was good news. One more person to help him. She was almost family, after all, and incredibly useful in a fight. Plus she’d never turn her back on a woman in need.
“You’re not talking about Lady Cho?”
“Of course not! I’m talking about my wife. My real wife. She was on her way from Beijing with a couple of servants and merchants and my new shipment of wares. Then these bastards waylaid them in the forest at night, killed most of the men and took her hostage. They’re demanding a literal king’s ransom. Ten thousand yang within the next fortnight, or else they’ll sell her to the highest bidder.” His proud Catherine, a slave. She would never stand for it, and whatever master was stupid enough to buy her would beat her to death soon enough. Jeong was certain of it. He couldn’t let it happen. If only he had the money…
It hurt to see Captain Park’s shoulders and face relax, even if it stayed serious. Nobody cared about Catherine the way he did, of course, but there was a petty part of him that wanted others to feel this pain so that they might fight that much harder to save her.
“Tell me everything,” Captain Park told him, and he gladly did. About the ambush, Chang-min’s estimate of the bandits’ numbers, the location, the dead, and most of all the ransom. It appeared Catherine’s unusual looks had drawn the bandit leader’s interest and he reckoned she must be worth a fortune to her people. They didn’t realise that she was a mere merchant’s daughter, not a diplomat’s or duke’s. And while her father might have the money, it would take the news months to reach him, and even longer for the fortune they had demanded to be sent to Joseon. By the time it arrived, it would be too late. Captain Park and the Capital Guard were her only chance.
The Capital Guard was quite busy, like an anthill, with men in uniform streaming out in a hurry while others returned, sometimes with one miscreant or another tied up. It was quite fascinating to watch the display of industriousness. At least to Yeo-hwa, who hadn’t ever had the opportunity back before she’d left Hanyang to find her equilibrium. She’d never had the leisure to just watch without fearing the judgement of others. And of course her nightly visits had been filled with much more pressing tasks. It was refreshing, just being able to walk through the gate like a normal woman, head covered to preserve her modesty. Her heart sped up at the prospect of seeing Soo-ho again, even if it had been mere hours since they last talked.
She found him easily enough. He looked rather dashing in his element, standing over a table with Bi-chan while he studied what seemed to be a map. There was an adorable frown of concentration on his face as he stroked his chin. Bi-chan behind him seemed almost like a copy of his superior: the same stance, the same frown, the same tilted head. They hadn’t spotted her yet, so Yeo-hwa cleared her throat as she lowered her veil and stepped forward. Soo-ho’s face lit up, then fell just as abruptly.
“My lady,” he told her, all solemn and serious. There was no trace of last night’s playfulness. “I’m afraid something has come up.”
When he proceeded to tell her what had happened, she curled her hands into fists. “This will not do,” she told him. “I’m going to help.”
“My lady…” he tried to argue with a glance towards Bi-chan reminding her that they were not alone. “This is a matter for the Capital Guard.”
Yeo-hwa straightened her back. She wasn’t going to sit by, and he should know better by now. “Do you remember how I snuck out of Lord Seok’s residence that one time?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
She watched as realisation dawned on him. “Very well,” he told her. “I’ll prepare everything. Bi-chan, send a message to the garrison in Gaeseong. We’re going to send some men up to investigate a missing merchant caravan and would appreciate their assistance.”
“Yes, sir!” Bi-chan cried and scurried off. He was quite cute in his dedication to his master and work.
“You won’t regret taking me along,” Yeo-hwa promised him once Bi-chan was out of earshot.
Soo-ho smiled at her. “No doubt,” he told her. “I fear this is going to be more dangerous than it seems. Only someone very stupid or very strong would decide to abduct a foreigner and demand a horrendous ransom.”
“Well, whoever they are, they no doubt didn’t count on two of Joseon’s best sword fighters coming to save the lady.”
They shared a smile, then went their own ways to prepare after Soo-ho handed her a bundle containing a guard uniform. Back home, Yeo-hwa sighed. She hadn’t even managed to get settled properly. Only half of her cleaning was done. Her black vigilante dress really needed a wash, but… it wasn’t as if she needed it, per se. She already had a very good disguise. But in a way, when she wore it she felt more like herself than she did in many of her other clothes, and there always was a chance that something unforeseen came up. She packed it.
The next morning, Soo-ho awaited her at the threshold of her home. The moment he spotted her, there was that bright smile again. He’d come far this past year – and it warmed her heart to see that he had taken this particular with of hers to heart.
“It suits you,” he told her once she stood by his side. Yeo-hwa looked at herself and didn’t know what he saw. As far as she was concerned, she must look like all of the men under his command. He saw this uniform a hundred times a day. “Are you ready?” he added.
“Of course. Let’s go and catch some bad guys!” She started walking in the direction of the horses tied up underneath a willow. Soo-ho followed a moment later.
“I’m sorry that we don’t really have any proper accommodations,” Soo-ho told her with a blush on his youthful face. For the third time. Truth be told, Yeo-hwa felt quite flushed herself when confronted with the tiny room. There was barely enough room on the floor to spread two mats. It really wasn’t proper – except it was. To the innkeeper, she was just a subordinate officer, travelling to Gaeseong with his captain. There was nothing wrong with sharing a room under those conditions, especially since all the others were already occupied.
“It can’t be helped,” she told him. They had been this close – and closer – a few times now, and nothing had happened. They would be fine now too. It was just one night, and they were both exhausted. Another half-a-day’s ride and they’d be at the garrison in Gaeseong. Yeo-hwa pursed her lips and nodded to herself. She could do this.
“Are you sure, my lady? I can—”
“Nonsense. You need a good night’s sleep as much as I do and the horses won’t let you get one. I’ve been on the road for a year. I’m used to this sort of thing.” Yes – when it came to sharing the room with other women, not with a man who was… whatever they were. It was hard to tell, at least for her. They seemed perpetually trapped in a valley of uncertainty between being strangers, friends, and something much closer.
Soo-ho was much closer to her than a friend should be when they both lay down on their respective mats. Yeo-hwa wanted to hide beneath her rough-spun blanket when she saw his face mere inches from hers. Oh my, she thought. She was close enough to see tiny flecks of lighter brown in his irises, despite the sparse light. As if he were reading her mind, he hoisted himself upwards and blew out the candle, their only light source. When he lay back down, he was nothing more than a dark shadow that she could barely distinguish from the darkness surrounding them.
“Good night,” he told her. His breath brushed against her cheek. She wondered if he would lean forward, finally pressing his lips against hers… it felt as if they’d been dancing around this moment forever.
Yeo-hwa gulped. “Good night,” she replied. Then she turned to her other side. This wasn’t the time, she told herself, drawing the blanket close again. She was absolutely sure that she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep.
The next thing she consciously sensed was warmth. The kind of warmth that was both inside you and outside you, as if there was no border between the two. Yeo-hwa sighed and burrowed deeper into it. She hadn’t felt this comfortable and cherished for as long as she could remember… then a vague memory floated to the forefront of her mind, one of a time when she had been small and her parents had comforted her after a nightmare. She’d spent the night wrapped up in their arms with her head pillowed on her mother’s pillow. Back then, she’d been safe and cared for and no worries clouded her sleep. So it was no wonder that the feeling of an arm wrapped around her waist evoked that nameless, forgotten feeling from her childhood—
Wait? What arm? Yeo-hwa crashed into wakefulness as if she’d run towards it at full speed. Outside, countless birds greeted the morning sun. In the distance, the innkeeper was rummaging through pots and pans. But all of that was mere ambient noise to the sound of Soo-ho’s breath, steady and calm and right next to her ear. At some point in the night, he must have wrapped an arm around her, drawn her body next to his and buried his head in her hair. Yeo-hwa thought she might die from the embarrassment. Yes, that’s what it was. Embarrassment. Her cheeks felt as if they were on fire as she frantically looked for a way to disentangle their bodies before he woke up.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped. Soo-ho was part octopus, it seemed. Once she’d carefully moved his arm back to where it belonged, he leaned in closer and sniffled at her neck, then slung a leg around hers. When she’d finished extracting her legs, his arm moved to hug her again. For a short moment, she wondered if it would really be so bad to just give up. She came to the conclusion that it absolutely would be and began again, this time even more carefully. First, the wrist. She slowly pushed it backwards, inching across her waist. Yeo-hwa held her breath. Just a little further and she’d be free…
Soo-ho sneezed. “Wha—” he asked, voice still hoarse from sleep.
Yeo-hwa didn’t have to answer, he stiffened all on his own. Her hands were still holding his wrist. She dropped it like it was on fire. For one torturous moment, they stayed like this, frozen in absolute mortification. Then Yeo-hwa rolled forward, out of the nest of blankets and into the wall. She dimly noticed Soo-ho colliding with the opposite one, cursing.
When she turned to look at him, his face was beet-red and he couldn’t meet her eyes. Not that she was any more comfortable meeting his. She struggled to her feet.
“I’m going to settle things with the innkeeper. We better get going if we want to reach Gaeseong today,” she told him, retrieving her gat before hurrying out of the room. Behind her, she heard him call “My lady!”, but she wasn’t ready to face him. All she wanted to do for the moment was to forget the lack of decorum they had both displayed. At least until this case was solved and Lady Elizabeth was back in her husband’s arms.
“I have a question,” Yeo-hwa asked Soo-ho. He turned to her, waiting for her to speak. There was still a slight flush on his cheeks whenever he looked at her. He’d attempted to talk to her about the night during their ride, but she’d rebuffed him each and every time. “Do all garrisons look alike?”
They were standing in the courtyard of the garrison of Gaeseong. Around them, a gaggle of soldiers went about their business. Some of them sent a couple of intrigued glances their way, but most of them didn’t pay them any mind. They were waiting to meet the commander, General Kim, a general of some renown, and some infamy, according to Soo-ho.
“There’ve been two investigations regarding corruption against him,” he had told her, right after they had left Hanyang behind them, before things got awkward. “None of them could find any concrete evidence, but if you ask me, where there’s smoke, there’s usually fire. Nobody bothers to investigate a general unless they’re convinced he did something to merit it.”
But that wasn’t what occupied Yeo-hwa’s mind while they were waiting – at least not currently. No, she was struck by the similarities between the Capital Guard in Hanyang and this garrison. Sure, there were differences, but it was as if they’d been cast in the same mould. High, practical walls, a path leading to an archery range at the back, the beams of the doorway painted the same shade… if the buildings weren’t twins, they were at least siblings that shared a family resemblance.
“Many of them look somewhat similar,” Soo-ho told her, looking around himself as if the thought had never occurred to him. “I don’t know if it’s because the purpose or the people are the same. Or maybe the architects work off the same sets of blueprints.”
Before they could continue their discussion on this fascinating and safe topic, a man stepped out of the garrison’s main building. He was in his mid-fifties and wore a general’s uniform. Most people would likely call him handsome, despite his age. A warrior through and through, with the build to match it, even if he must spend most of his time at his desk nowadays.
“You wanted to speak to me?” General Kim grunted. A step behind him, two of his men followed him, flanking him like particularly aggressive dogs. Large, square-cut dogs in uniform. Yeo-hwa furtively studied their faces – and the way their hands lingered on their swords. One of them had cauliflower ears.
“Yes,” Soo-ho answered, stepping up and squaring his shoulders. “I sent a messenger ahead. I’m Captain Park Soo-ho of the Capital Guard, here to investigate an abduction.”
The general frowned. “Couldn’t you have sent some of your men to deal with such a trivial matter?”
Yeo-hwa bristled. Trivial? A woman was facing death or slavery! She was about to do something foolish when Soo-ho extended his hand to stop her in her tracks. Discreetly. The general didn’t notice. She collected herself and tried to remember that she was just a simple soldier right now. In a way, it was no different than playing the demure widow. Still, neither role agreed with her.
“The woman’s husband is a close friend of mine, and from one of the most prominent families in the capital,” Soo-ho explained. True, but a bit of a misrepresentation, considering that Jeong was doing his level best to not live up to his father’s legacy. “I thought it prudent to handle the matter myself. Now, do you have any information that would assist me in my quest?”
“I don’t. There’ve been no reports about a band of brigands operating in my jurisdiction. If this crime really took place where your source said it did, it was likely some strays from up north that went back the way they came, but I think it’s more likely that your survivor is mistaken, Captain Park. It happens. Merchants are not used to this kind of situation. Their memories tend to be full of holes when recounting an attack.”
Yeo-hwa watched as Soo-ho inclined his head. She couldn’t see his face, since she was standing a step behind him, but she’d swear she could almost hear him narrow his eyes. It was the way his back tensed.
“Did you check the ambush site?” he asked, his voice as sharp as his sword.
“There was none,” General Kim answered. He jutted out his chin, daring Soo-ho to challenge the word of a general. But Soo-ho wasn’t that dumb.
“Then I will have to continue and conduct my own investigation,” Soo-ho replied, “Good day.”
“Good day,” the general echoed.
Yeo-hwa followed Soo-ho out of the gates of the garrison like a good little soldier, even if all she wanted to do was spit in front of that git’s feet. He could have at least offered to send along some of his men, but no, that would have undermined the authority of this pompous ass. He had declared that there were no bandits, so there were none, even if they walked about town in broad daylight. This man deserved one of her paintings – one featuring a very pompous ass perhaps.
“What now?” she asked when they reached the horses.
Soo-ho looked at the sky. The sun still stood above the trees and buildings of Gaeseong, but not by that much. “It’s too late to set out, he declared. We’ll have to find another inn.” After the deadly silence that followed those words, he added: “One with more than one free room.”
“I think this is it,” Soo-ho said, staring at the rather distinctive tree bending over the path like an old gentleman carrying a pack frame stacked with wood. One branch even leaned down in such a way as to resemble a man’s cane. The witness had described the scene of the ambush quite well; even two people who had never seen it before were unable to mistake the small clearing for anything other than the place he’d painted with his words. There was only one problem.
“I see no signs of an ambush,” Yeo-hwa pointed out. There were old tracks, but this was a popular resting spot, according to their witness. It would be strange if there were none.
“I wouldn’t have expected there to be any,” Soo-ho told her. “Else the general wouldn’t have missed them. Still, let’s hope that they weren’t that thorough. There might be something in the undergrowth that they missed.”
Yeo-hwa didn’t need to be told what to do. She descended on the shrubs and bracken like a bloodhound, sweeping aside the green leaves to examine the ground below. It had rained two days ago, and here, the leaf mould still smelled slightly damp whenever her boots disturbed its rest. She combed the area for what felt like half an eternity and heard Soo-ho do the same. And yet, nothing.
“I think we need a different approach,” she told him when they both sat down in the clearing for a short rest and some water. It was no wonder the caravan had camped here, Yeo-hwa thought. It was a beautiful, peaceful place. The leaves offered shelter, and the tree seemed like a benevolent guardian standing watch. What a shame that it had all been an illusion.
A twig snapped. Yeo-hwa tensed. She was peripherally aware of Soo-ho doing the same, but neither of them moved, not until they had to.
When they did, everything happened all at once. Yeo-hwa evaded a sword that buried itself in the ground where she’d been a mere breath before while she turned to face her attacker. The man wore a nondescript black hanbok. A matching scarf covered his face. She squared her shoulders and drew her sword. Behind her, Soo-ho was already crossing swords with another man, but she trusted him to handle himself and focused on her own quarry.
The man was taller than her, and heavier, but he wasn’t as fast, as she quickly found out. After trading three blows, it was clear to her that the man might be well-trained, but she had the upper hand – she was one of the best, after all. One feint, one kick to the back of the knee, and she had her sword at the man’s throat. He stilled, staring at her with eyes filled with hatred.
“Drop it,” she told him, nodding towards the sword hanging uselessly from his hands. He did so after calculating his options. Three heartbeats later, she heard Soo-ho’s opponent do the same. Before turning towards him with a victorious grin, Yeo-hwa kicked the sword away.
“Seems like we found our lead after all,” she said.
His smile echoed hers.
To make things less awkward, she moved behind the man she’d captured while Soo-ho grabbed the scarf on his man, throwing it onto the leaves and revealing a flushed face with angry, deep-set eyes. Something about the face tugged at Yeo-hwa’s memory. It was the way his jaw looked when he clenched his teeth, she thought. It emphasised his ears…
“Hold on a moment, I know that guy!” she cried.
It was a beautiful night, Yeo-hwa mused as she lay on the cliff overlooking the bandit camp. There were stars and a nearly full moon and she should probably be able to recite some pertinent poem right now, but she was only marginally more talented at memorising those than she was at painting. Besides, she was rather distracted by the way her shoulder brushed up to Soo-ho’s. It was a small cliff.
“Should we talk about that night?” he suggested, voice a low rumble. She knew what night he was talking about.
Yeo-hwa sighed. “Later, when Jeong has his wife back,” she promised.
For a moment, Soo-ho seemed to consider it, and then she felt him nod. “Yes.” There was something in that one word that sounded like a promise to her – he wasn’t going to let her evade him forever, it seemed. And it wasn’t as if she wanted to. Some things were just more important. Like the loud rabble down below.
“What do you think is going on down there?” she whispered to him.
Soo-ho seemed to consider the question for quite a while. The camp at the bottom of the cliff was lit up with torches and braziers, and every so often, the sound of terrible drunken chanting floated up to their perch. Maybe the night wasn’t so peaceful after all, at least in this forest.
“They must have something to celebrate,” Soo-ho concluded. “Maybe they’re anticipating a large payout. Whatever the case, they’ve got to sleep eventually.”
Of course, but so did they. Yeo-hwa yawned at the moon and let her mind drift. Until Soo-ho cleared his throat. She was lying on her side, using his shoulder as a pillow and at some point, her hands had grabbed onto his coat. Oh, this was going too far. Why did her sleeping self betray her so?
“It’s time,” he said. She couldn’t see the blush on his face, but she could hear it in his voice. Now was not the time, she told herself. It was finally time to get these bastards. Yeo-hwa took a moment to change into her costume behind a large tree. They would have to do some sneaking about, and if everything went well, Soo-ho wouldn’t even have to get involved. In his military uniform, he’d tip the bandits off that the authorities were onto them, so he’d wait in the shadows beyond the camp unless she got into trouble. That was the plan, at least.
When they reached the camp, it was already past the dead of night. From a distance, most of the bandits seemed to be asleep, except for the two men stationed at the entrance to the shoddily fortified camp. One was picking at his teeth while the other drew circles into the dirt with the butt of his spear. Yeo-hwa took out one with a well-placed hand to the neck while Soo-ho took care of the other. With a nod, she left him to tie up the men. It was a pity it was just the two of them. In the end, the bandits would walk free – at least until the situation in Gaeseong was taken care of.
But that was for later. Lady Elizabeth came first. Later, they could collect the tied-up men working for the general – because the two men who had tried to kill them were the very same who had flanked General Kim at the garrison – and then Soo-ho would start proceedings against him. He was even more of a bandit than these villains, considering he allowed them to operate freely against a sizeable bribe.
The camp was fast asleep. Yeo-hwa didn’t even have to sneak. She did it anyway, of course. There were some embers glowing in the braziers, and the smell of dying fires still clung to the air, but the only sound she could hear from the bandits were violent snores emanating from their tents.
It didn’t take her long to find the cage. It was right next to the biggest tent – presumably the leader’s. A large, wooden contraption secured with a lock. In front of it stood the only person still conscious inside the camp. Another sleepy guard, who poked at a fire in a brazier to keep himself warm. Yeo-hwa melted back into the shadows to analyse the scene. There was a key on the guard’s belt. Inside the cage, all she could see was a heap of fabric, but she couldn’t make out any distinct persons in the dark.
The guard yawned and stretched out his hands to warm them. Yeo-hwa smiled to herself. This would be a piece of cake. All she had to do was sneak around the halo of light from the fire, hit the guard, and catch him to prevent him from making a ruckus when he fell. Unfortunately, he was heavier than anticipated, and for a moment it seemed as if she might not succeed in stopping him from toppling the brazier. Then she summoned all her strength, somehow managed to stabilise her grip on him and lowered him to the ground very carefully. Afterwards, she leaned back against the cage for a moment to catch her breath and rest her knees. The snores confirmed that Yeo-hwa hadn’t alerted any of the bandits.
When she turned towards the hostages, she saw that there wasn’t just one, but rather three distinct bodies. She reached out and touched the closest. A woman jerked awake with a gasp, and then she clapped both her hands over her mouth when she spotted a masked figure.
Yeo-hwa shushed her. “Lady Elizabeth?” she whispered, although there was little doubt that this was Jeong’s wife. This was the most foreign-looking woman Yeo-hwa had ever seen, in her Qing dress and with hair that seemed white in the dim light, a contrast to her unlined face. Her eyes were pale as well. “I’ve come to free you. Can you wake the others?”
The lady didn’t need to be told twice. While she woke her compatriots, Yeo-hwa freed the keys from the guard’s belt. She fiddled with the locks until she found the right one, and then the hostages followed her through the camp like ducklings would their mother, silent as the night. They needn’t have bothered, just like Soo-ho needn’t have bothered to wait all tense and worried. When they reached the edge of the camp, he visibly relaxed.
“That was a lot easier than I thought,” Yeo-hwa told him once they had led the hostages a good part of the way to the road to Gaeseong.
“The difficult part is yet to come,” he reminded her. “General Kim is wily, or he wouldn’t have managed to weasel his way out of two inquests.”
“These people need the fear of God put into them,” Lady Elizabeth said in her heavily accented Korean. She turned out to be quite the formidable woman, in Yeo-hwa’s opinion. She was no shrunken violet of a sheltered lady. Instead, she led the other two hostages – wealthy, middle-aged merchants from Pyeongyang – like a commander would his troops. Her former husband had chosen well.
“I have an idea,” Yeo-hwa told Soo-ho. “But I’m not sure a captain of the Capital Guard would agree.”
He frowned. Once upon a time, he had placed the law above everything else. Of course, that was before he’d become only too aware of the limits of a legal investigation. “What are you proposing?” he asked.
Yeo-hwa smiled a wicked smile. Then she told him.
General Kim’s residence had been easy enough to find. It was no wonder it was one of the most expensive ones in Gaeseong. The man must have made enough money to rival the king by now. And his room was the biggest in the residence. Naturally. When Yeo-hwa entered it, dressed in white, her face powdered into oblivion and her eyes obscured with kohl, she took a moment to look around. The general was sleeping soundly. And there, on the wall, was a painting of a tiger. Not the tiger, mind you, but another expertly rendered tiger, ready to pounce on an unsuspecting doe and her fawn. What was it with terrible men and their fondness for exquisite tiger paintings?
Yeo-hwa shook off the thought. Then she adjusted her hair so that it hung around her face in a loose mess, obscuring most of her features. Everything seemed to be in order. Time to wake the general. She leaned over him, careful not to disturb his rest too early, bracing herself on his other side and letting her breath brush over his face.
The general wrinkled his nose and tried to shoo her off like a fly, so she leaned in close and blew on his eyelids.
He woke up with a start. As intended. And when he spotted the figure leaning over him, he scrambled back against the wall as if he’d seen a ghost – which was precisely what she was pretending to be. Yeo-hwa drew herself up to her full height and stared down at him with her eyes as wide and crazy as she could manage.
“General Kim,” she growled, head lolling. “The dead have lost their patience with you. Too many have died because of your crimes. Now, it is time for you to pay for them. For all the people you’ve killed. For me!”
A high-pitched whine escaped his throat and he seemed close to pissing himself. Good, he deserved worse. But then he rallied himself and fell on his knees in front of her, prostrating himself and rubbing his hands together in an attempt to beg for mercy. Yeo-hwa wanted to grin, but she was supposed to be a vengeful ghost, not a gleeful vigilante. Outside, mysterious rattling noises disturbed the peaceful night. Soo-ho was doing his part.
“Mercy!” he pleaded. “Have mercy!”
“There is no mercy for those that profit from the misfortune of others. You will be punished, if not in this life, then the next, and the ones after. The only way to atone for your sins is to confess them to the magistrate, but I know the likes of you,” Yeo-hwa the ghost told him. “You would rather suffer for a thousand years than relinquish your pride.”
General Kim, who a mere day ago had greeted them so haughtily had been reduced to a puddle of nerves. It was pitiful, but that man didn’t deserve pity. So Yeo-hwa vanished like a ghost – or rather a particularly nimble woman. She’d said her piece. Now it was time to see if there was a shred of faith left in the corrupt general. It would make Soo-ho’s investigation so much easier.
Jeong couldn’t help it. He paced. He’d been pacing ever since Captain Park and Yeo-hwa had left to find his wife. His feet probably hurt, but he’d stopped feeling anything but all-consuming worry ever since he’d found out his darling wife was in danger. At this point, Kkot-nim had abandoned him to his ceaseless pacing, while his mother merely watched him as she occupied herself with housework. Maybe Jeong should help her fold the laundry? No, she’d tell him to get lost. He kept pacing in the yard of the Seok Residence. Grooves were beginning to form around the building that housed the master bedroom.
“My lord!” one of the servants called. The man in question came running towards him with a big, gap-toothed grin on his face, and that was all the news Jeong needed to hear. He abandoned his pacing and instead ran for the street. He didn’t even manage to make it to the doorway before the most amazing sight in the entire world made him stop abruptly.
“Elizabeth!” he called, opening his arms.
He didn’t have to offer twice. She launched herself into his arms and he twirled her around, laughing like a madman. It had been one and a half years – about one and a half years too long, in Jeong’s opinion. As he held her close and smelled her hair, he promised himself he’d never part with her again. If she needed to leave again, he’d follow her, even if she had to go all the way to England.
“Thank you so much!” he told Captain Park and Yeo-hwa, who watched the scene with slightly bemused smiles on their faces. Elizabeth’s passion was quite something to behold – fiery and open, like the blazing sun. He set her down to admire her face, cupping it with his hands. There was a part of him that couldn’t quite believe that she was real.
Then Elizabeth cupped his face as well, drawing him to her, and kissed him with all the pent-up love in her heart. Jeong was so glad to have her back, he returned it with a fervour, ignoring the scandalised gasps around them.
Yeo-hwa didn’t know where to look. Her eyes met Soo-ho’s wide ones – apparently, she wasn’t the only one who had not expected the reunion to be quite so… openly passionate.
“Should we…?” he asked, waving his hand back the way they’d come.
Yeo-hwa peeked back at the happy couple to see if they had detached themselves from each other. They had not. She nodded and turned away from the residence that had once been her home. There’d no doubt be enough opportunity to catch up with Jeong and his mother once he’d calmed down a bit. Unfortunately, that left her with Soo-ho and a feeling of awkward aimlessness that eventually led them to her home. All of a sudden, she was acutely aware of the fact that she was still wearing the borrowed uniform. Now that she was home, it was time to get back to her own self. She started with the gat, undoing the knot and taking it off.
“I appreciate your help,” Soo-ho told her with a content smile on his face.
“I appreciate yours,” Yeo-hwa corrected him.
He let her win. Instead of arguing, he leaned forward until his face was so close it was hard to focus on it, still smiling. And then his face moved in even closer. Yeo-hwa felt too shocked to do anything but stand there like a statue. Soo-ho kissed her, chaste and gentle and perfect, and Yeo-hwa’s heart felt like it was about to burst. Their first kiss. Somehow, the sensation of his lips meeting hers surpassed all the many, many times she had imagined them brushing against each other. It might have taken them a while to get here, but Yeo-hwa thought it had absolutely been worth the wait.
When Soo-ho finally detached himself from her, he looked quite pleased with himself. “Now, about that night…”
