A Way Out

by Moon Lovers Lover

After what was meant to be their wedding night, the arrangement they came to was thus; Soo took the bed, and Jung got a bedroll on the floor on the other side of the room.

Beneath Yo's spreading smirk, Jung refused to be cowed, or to show any weakness. He was a soldier now, a warrior, not just a soft prince who played at sword-work. He was a general, a title forged from steel and blood on the mountainous border Goryeo shared with Khitan – and he was not scared of Yo.

Yo said he would reward Jung for his service. "Ask me anything," he said magnanimously, "And if it is within my power, I will grant it."

And Jung asked. "Hae Soo," he said. "Give me a royal decree that I should marry her. When it comes time, allow me to be the one to reveal its existence."

The thing he wanted most in all the world, but not for himself, never for himself. For her. It was ironic, terribly so, tearingly so – but his face remained impassive as he stared at the widening set of Yo's mouth.

"It shall be done, little brother," the king said.

Jung bowed, and as fast as he could, without showing his obvious desire to get out of the throne room, he took his leave.

/

After the two years he had not seen her, Soo was still as beautiful in every way as before. If her smiles were sad and her eyes dark, he did not comment, for it was not his place; and if she wished, she would tell him. But he could see she had no place for the tense, blood-covered man he had become, so he tried to smile at her as he had on far-away sunshine-filled days.

Her tea was the best tea he had ever tasted. Even the scent wafting up with the steam as he lifted the cup up to his lips brought such a heavy weight of nostalgia and love, that he swallowed thickly before he even tasted it.

When he put the cup down, he tried to grin at her. "As expected, your tea is the best!" I love you. He took another sip. "Oh, I really have missed this." I've missed you.

Soo sat down across from him, and a soft smile rose on her lips. "If you keep talking like that, I might think you only missed my tea, and not me," she said with mock reapproval.

"Come on. You know that's not true," he laughed.

"Really? What if I never made tea for you again, would you want to see me?" Soo asked.

Jung pretended to think. "Hm… Well…" Grinning he rolled his eyes. "Of course!"

Soo nodded, but Jung could see there was something on her mind as she slumped back in her chair. When she spoke again, her voice was far away, as if she did not realize she had spoken her thoughts aloud. "I wish that person would come and see me whenever I make his favorite tea. But… He doesn't, and I… I just have to drink it myself."

Jung's jaw tightened. It was So she spoke of. He'd abandoned her because she'd tried to protect Eun and Soon Deok. He'd cut Eun down where he had knelt, pierced by Yo's arrows, and he'd laughed. And then he had left Soo for trying to protect the two people who had never done wrong in their lives. It seemed like the right moment to tell her his plan, the one that had begun with a request in the throne room. "Soo…" he began, "There's something…"

She looked up at him. "What?"

"If you ever want to leave the palace," he said earnestly, heart jumping in his chest, and his hand rearing to hold hers, "Just tell me. Tell me, 'I want to go', and I will get you out. I promise you, this is one thing I will not fail you on." Like he had failed to keep them from taking her when she'd been accused of poisoning. Like he had failed in protecting Eun and Soon Deok. Like he had been unable to help her when she was stuck outside of the palace as a water-maid. So many times, he had lost count.

Soo's beautiful eyes filled with tears then, and her hands came to rest on his arm. He wished he could feel the warmth of her hands through his armor, but he kept her gaze within hers, and she smiled. "I want to go," she whispered. "I want to leave it all behind. I just want to go. I've waited. I've waited for so long, but the words that were said when we parted… I don't know if I will ever see him again. If I even want to. I've written so many letters, and yet… I've been alone for so long, I can't even remember what it's like to have someone by my side. I want to go. Can you get me out?"

Letting out a shuddering breath, eyes wide as he did not take them off her, Jung nodded silently, not trusting his voice to come out evenly. He swallowed. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "Yes, I can." Come to Chungju with me. Come home with me.

She hugged him then, impulsively, and he could tell that his armor dug into her uncomfortably, but unlike the times she'd hugged him before, he lay a tentative hand on the small of her back and patted her shoulder with the other. "Thank you," she said when she broke away, wiping her eyes with the heel of her hand.

"Any time," he said lightly. I love you.

/

Soo smiled at him when he extended his hand to help her out of the palanquin, and she took it. They both had callouses from different kinds of work, and her hand was smaller and cooler. He did not hold it for too long, offering her a smile in return.

"Welcome to our house," he said.

"It's very beautiful," she said, looking around at the greenery, another smile coming to her lips.

"I haven't been home for a while," Jung said. "But from what I remember, I think you'll like the gardens."

She reached for his hand and squeezed it between hers for a moment. "Thank you."

"Like I said," Jung said. "Any time." I hope this can become your home.

/

The ceremony was discreet, the party practically nonexistent. Baek Ah came, and the three of them shared a bottle of fine soju from Baek Ah's personal stores. Soo spoke easily, laughed loudly, and it seemed as if that sad, refined woman was slowly leaving her has she drank just enough to become tipsy. She reminded him more and more of the Soo he had first met.

They all avoided the topic of the marriage, and when Baek Ah left the two of them at the table, Jung broke the silence with a clearing of his throat. "It was the only way I could think of. To have you both released from service, and away from the palace. Don't worry. We're friends, and I won't do anything to make it uncomfortable between us." It's alright. No matter how much distance you want to put between us, just seeing you is enough.

Soo smiled up at him. "Oh, I know you won't. You're an honorable sort."

He grinned, yawning. "Well, now that that's done, let's sleep. I'm so tired!" Here's to sleeping on the floor for the rest of my life. There was only one bed in the bedchamber, but two blankets. Jung lay down on the floor, pulling one over himself and turning his back while Soo pulled off her red over-robe, braided wig and hairpins, along with one particular hairpin with a peony and red berries on it, settling into the bed.

"Aren't you uncomfortable?" she asked him after a while, and he twitched.

"Not really. I've had worse," he said, trying to say it lightly, but it was Soo, and she worried about everyone.

"Are you talking about Khitan?"

He paused, stiffening. "…I suppose." Please don't ask more, please don't ask more, please don't-

She sighed and he could hear the bed creaking as she got up. He sat up as she crouched down next to him. "Come on," she said in that no-nonsense tone that he loved. "Get up. Get in bed."

Jung was a man grown, damn it, but he blushed. In the dim candlelight, he hoped it wasn't obvious. "Oh," he said intelligently.

Rolling her eyes, she took his arm and almost dragged him up. She was a good head or so shorter than him. "Don't worry, I know you won't do anything weird. Just get comfortable and don't be the graciously suffering, stiff warrior."

"Yes, my lady," he said with a crooked grin. "Your wish is my command." He was only half joking.

/

Soo was an active sleeper. She mumbled to herself in dreams. She moved. She tossed, she turned. She clung. She kicked. She threw herself from one end of the bed to the other, entirely asleep the entire time. She pressed herself up against him, then rolled away, taking all available blanket away from him.

Now, for a little while, she remained still. But at what cost?

Jung could not sleep. At all. He would have been much better off on the floor. His face burned with embarrassment and various other feelings; every single part of his body was stiff, and his mind was racing, trying to think of literally anything but Soo's warm breath on his collarbone, or her arm flung over his torso, or her leg wrapped around one of his.

He took a deep breath in through his nose, and out through his mouth. She shifted against him, her warm hand now splayed on his lower abdomen, and both of her legs wrapped around his. If he moved away, she'd wake up, and it would be twice as awkward. Don't think dirty thoughts, don't think dirty thoughts, don't think dirty thoughts, don't think dirty thoughts, don't-

When she shifted again, hand moving lower, he couldn't help himself, he gasped audibly even as his trews tightened, and then; cursed be the gods above, she woke up.

"Before you say anything," Jung said through clenched teeth, "Please be aware that everything is entirely your fault. I haven't moved at all."

She let out a sleepy snort. "Whatever. Just loosen up," she grumbled, "Like, just relax and sleep." It seemed odd, but she spoke the way she had long ago when they'd first met. Her natural way of speaking, he supposed.

"It's a bit difficult when your hand is on my-" he began to snap, then flared with heat and cut himself off. "I-I think the floor is a really good place right now," he said, scrabbling for the bedpost to pull himself up.

Soo removed her hand. "Whoops. Sorry," she said, sounding less abashed than she should have, and definitely more amused than she should have. "Sword in your pocket, prince?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jung said, red-faced, slipping off the bed and onto the ground. "Good night."

"Nighty-night," Soo mumbled, the bed creaking as she shifted again.

It will go away. It will go away. It will go away. It will go away. Laying face-down on his stomach on the cold floor, for a while, he managed to regain some decorum, and finally managed to then fall into a dreamless sleep.

/

Jung woke early, not sure why his shoulders were sore, and why he was sleeping on the floor. Then it all came back to him, and he covered his face, cursing quietly. Peering over the edge of the bed, Soo smiled at him. "Well, good morning to you too," she said.

"I want to die," he groaned.

Slipping out of bed, Soo tilted her head to the side. "What are you talking about?"

"Uh…" Jung didn't want to remind her. "Nothing."

She rolled her eyes. "Let's eat!"

At the thought of food, all other thoughts left him entirely and he bounded up. "Alright," he said. "Food!"

/

The food was good, and it was a lot – the servants knew his propensity to eat a lot since childhood. If there was a benefit from taking up residence in Chungju, it was that everything around him was familiar. They ate in the gardens, and then Jung suggested she visit the library, a place which he did not frequent much at all. He knew Soo liked to read about things and look at pictures in books, so he left her to it.

"There's a visitor to see Your Highness."

"Show him in."

Baek Ah came in, giving Jung a tight smile. "Hello," he said. "You look terrible."

Jung looked at him. "Hello to you, too. What do you mean?"

"Like you haven't slept much," Baek Ah clarified, expression souring.

Oh, so that was what it was about. Baek Ah always defended So – he disapproved of Jung doing this. He mentioned nothing in front of Soo yesterday, but this was a little too much. Jung rolled his eyes, trying not to get angry. This was Baek Ah, after all. "No, I didn't," he said stiffly.

Baek Ah's silence was answer enough as he sat down.

"You know the only reason I did this was to get her out when she wanted me to."

Baek Ah raised his eyebrows. "Oh, so you're not being selfish?"

"If you had another way, I would have taken it," Jung snapped. "But you didn't. If you knew how much she was suffering, you would have done the same if you had the choice."

"Perhaps," Baek Ah said with a calm coldness Jung wasn't used to. "But you're lying if you say you don't have any ulterior motives."

"Ulterior motives?!" Jung roared, rising to his feet. "Fine! I love her, is that what you want to hear? I would do anything for her! Anything! But I will never overstep my bounds for as long as I live, because I love her. She wanted to get out, she was trapped in that palace with Yo and Won and Wook – all those slimy, murderous bastards I once called 'brother'. Would you rather have her there, hemmed in on all sides by poison, writing letters to someone who abandoned her for trying to save our brother, his brother – trying to save two people who've never done anything wrong?!" He took a breath, staring down at Baek Ah's impassive face, knuckles white as he gripped the sides of the table.

Baek Ah's cool eyes showed nothing. "Sit down, Jung," he said. "I do not want to make us enemies."

Jung wanted to hit him. He wanted to say, 'Too late for that,' but he didn't and he sat slowly. "Look, brother," he said, forcing calmness into his voice, "If you want to say something, say it."

"So is back from Seokyeong. Yo called him back for a report on the building of the fortress," Baek Ah said. "He arrived in Songak last night."

Jung tried to cool his rage with a sip of tea, but it was bitter, and he slammed the cup down harder than he meant. "Oh, so that's what it's about," he said. "How about instead of antagonizing me, go do what you really want to do – go tell Soo, and see if runs to him, or stays in the house of her friend." His jaw clenched. That was a high-stakes bet, but it was the honorable thing to do, and he looked Baek Ah straight in the eye. I don't want to replace So in her heart. I want her to be happy. Is that too much to ask?

Baek Ah nodded stiffly. "I think I will."

As he rose, Jung couldn't go without a parting jab. "Has So asked for her?"

"No."

Jung did not breathe a sigh of relief as he left Baek Ah behind.

/

Jung saw her again that afternoon when he practiced in the garden, drilling all by himself; trying to imagine straw dummies in front of himself instead of the screams of real men. He'd been at it for hours, wanting to think of anything but the hopeful look he imagined in Soo's eyes when she heard the news about So from Baek Ah, anything but the tears in her eyes when she asked Jung to take her away, anything but the taste of her tea, the feel of her hands resting over his armor, or her sleeping breath on his collarbone.

The summer sun beat harshly down upon his back.

Finally, exhausted, the sword dropped from his stiff hands, and he fell to his knees, panting, sweat dripping to the dust like tears. "Come on," he said. "Pull yourself together, General."

"I think the general needs to take a rest," Soo said somewhere behind him, and he rose to his feet, turning.

"Rest? What's that?" Jung said with a tight smile, trying to get his breath back. "Did you… Enjoy the library?"

"Oh, it was great!"

"Believe it or not, but most of those books are Yo's from when he was younger. He always read way more than me," Jung said. "He was always good at everything; martial arts, military strategy, being scholarly, but not overly so."

Soo raised both her eyebrows. "There are a lot of things I could say about His Majesty," she said, lips thinning, "But he does have good taste in reading materials."

Jung sighed. "Baek Ah came by. Did he come to talk to you?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes," Soo said. She smiled and Jung's heart clenched. "We talked a little. He left." More seriously, she met Jung's eyes. "I heard you two talking," she said. "I think you have the wrong idea."

"About what?" Jung asked. Of many of the things he'd said, he wondered what Soo had paid the most attention to. Yelling, 'I love her!' with Soo listening at the door had the potential for making things a bit awkward.

"About the fourth prince," Soo said. "He… He wanted to get the tenth prince and Soon Deok out, but I was foolish and I didn't trust him, I didn't see enough…" She took in a shaky breath, and Jung stopped himself before he lay a hand on her shoulder.

His own words mocked him, 'I will not overstep my bounds.'

"He had no choice. In front of the king, he could do nothing. It is all my fault. When you're with someone, there has to be trust – you have to believe in each other," Soo said. "We promised never to lie to each other, but I broke that promise. I can understand if he never wanted to see me again-"

"No!" Jung snapped, and she looked up at him with wide eyes. "Did he trust you? Did he tell you, word for word that he was going to save Eun and Soon Deok? Or did he expect you to blindly believe in him? That isn't fair. You know it's not your fault. I failed you then, he failed you then – none of it was your fault, Soo – please believe me." His hand that reached for her shoulder brushed her sleeve. "Maybe there is something I don't understand. Maybe there is a side to So I have never seen. Maybe So truly is a good man – he has to be, somehow, if you love him this much, but Soo… Don't blame yourself. Whatever you do, don't do that. When you start blaming yourself for someone's death, you can't stop."

Soo stared at him, saying nothing, and Jung remembered himself and drew back.

"If you want to go see him, I can arrange that," he said. "It's more than a half day's hard ride to the capital."

She shook her head. "He told me it was over," she said sadly. "I didn't want to believe it, but… Now that he's here, I'm not sure I even want to see him." She bit her lips, and he could see tears welling up in her eyes. Then she took a step forward, another, and rested her forehead against his shoulder. "Can I stay like this for a little while?" she asked.

"Any time." I love you.

/

After what was meant to be their wedding night, the arrangement they came to was thus; Soo took the bed, and Jung got a bedroll on the floor on the other side of the room. When he woke up, gasping for air, seeing dead men under his sword, he listened to the sound of her breath, and it calmed him. They lived side-by-side for several weeks that way; eating meals together, laughing in a carefree way. She would watch him train, and he would watch her paint, a new hobby she'd taken up.

It was good and it was beautiful. Despite the clearly chalked line between them, it was probably one of the happiest times he'd had; staying by her side, watching her laugh and smile more often, away from the palace, away from everything ugly. If, sometimes, her smiles seemed a bit forced, or a cry escaped his lips when he woke up, neither said anything. It was fine this way.

Governing Chungju, however, was tedious as hell. "Rice," Jung groaned. "Bloody miles of stupid rice! I never want to see rice again."

The magistrate winced. "Your Highness…"

"I know, I know," Jung said. "My duty and all. I just wish counting rice and talking about rice production wasn't as important as it seems to be. And I'm not going to eat rice for the rest of my life."

There was a knock, and Soo poked her head in. "Prince Jung?"

He smelled food, and he saw Soo. His two favorite things in the world, and he grinned. "I'm here."

She came in, a tray of dinner in her hands. "You've been working hard, look at you! …Hello, Magistrate Kim."

The tray in front of him was full of fluffy white rice with several spicy meat dishes, and he could tell immediately from the aroma that Soo made it. "This is great, Soo, really!" He began to dig in, bringing a huge chunk of rice to his mouth. "Thank you."

The magistrate made a sound that sounded like a choking snort, and Jung realized he was trying not to laugh. Soo shook her head.

/

In Khitan, Jung had refused to sit on the sidelines and watch the battles from the safety of a tent. Men were fighting on his orders, it was his duty, he thought, to fight alongside them. He was their leader, and he would lead, damn it. And so, he did, and the men respected him for it.

But they died. So many of them died, following his orders. And the men Jung killed, they were following orders too. So many dead, so many dead, and yet who had won, really? The border was the same, the mountains had not moved, but now fewer men would return home.

It was nothing like the stories. Not heroic. Not clean and swift how he imagined it. It was work. Labor. Toil. And they stank. They stank when they died, the smell of blood clinging to everything. They surrounded him, and he was alone, but no matter how many he cut down, there were still more.

They were coming through the pass. He had to stop them, but he did not have enough men and then he was alone. He could see their faces; shocked, pained, rageful, empty – and when they reached for him with cold, dead hands through the constantly falling snow, he cried out for his men to rally to him, but the corpses coming through the cold were both soldiers of Goryeo and Khitan, and he could not tell anymore-

"No… Don't… Can't come through… Don't let them-… To me! No, no… No!" And then Jung would sit up on his bedroll on the floor, gasping for air, hoping Soo had not woken up.

This night, she had.

Sweat poured down his chest despite the chill in the room, and he panted, fixing his eyes on the dark ahead of him, raking his hair away from his face. His shaking breaths and pounding heart sounded too loud, and he pressed a hand over his mouth, gritting his teeth against the fear, against the cold, the dead.

And then Soo was in front of him, lighting a single candle in the room and dropping down to sit on the floor beside him, eyes dark and infinite in the pale, flickering light. Her hands were cool and dry, and she cupped his face with one, laying the other over his chest, over his heart. His tunic was open, and her fingers were hot and cold against his skin.

"Look at me," she said.

He looked. Her dark hair glistened in the candlelight, her eyebrows set in a stubborn line, her lips slightly parted.

"You're alright," she said. "You're okay."

"…I'm sorry," he tried, forcing himself to get his breath back. "I woke you."

She rolled her eyes. "You're kidding me, right? Shut up and breathe. Don't you dare apologize."

He followed that order, and when he could breathe without shuddering gasps, she drew back.

"Do you think you can sleep now?"

"No," he said truthfully. "But it's alright. I'm used to-"

"I know. I wanted to help you, but you always seemed so stiff about it, I thought you wouldn't forgive me if I tried to help." She winced. "You have boundaries I don't know if I can overstep too, you know."

Jung reached out, fingers tangling in her sleeve, and leaned his forehead against her collarbone, overstepping his boundaries. He could feel the steady beat of her heart pick up a little. She was warm, smelling like flowers, her silken nightdress cool and crisp against his heated skin. "Can I stay like this?" he breathed.

"Any time," she said quietly, her fingers combing through the hair on the back of his neck in a soothing gesture.

/

Jung woke the next morning, arms around her, as her arms were around him, and her legs tangled with his. He cursed under his breath. Perhaps last night was an extenuating circumstance, but this was a bit much, even for him – though he deeply wished to stay this way forever. Slowly, he began to untangle himself, and when he succeeded, leaving her asleep, he pulled the blanket over her, and slipped out of the room.

It was the beginning of August, and the warmth of summer coupled with the crispness of the coming autumn relaxed him slightly.

When he was dressed, he went to inquire about breakfast, but a messenger from the capital had rode into the courtyard, horse lathered and face red with exertion. "Your Highness!" he gasped. "The new king orders your presence!"

"New king?" Jung asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Yesterday, King So rightfully inherited the throne," the messenger said, as if it was a well-rehearsed line from a play.

Jung swore.

The messenger raised his eyebrows. "…Should I relay that-"

"No, fool!" Jung snapped. "I have no choice. Tell His Majesty I will obey his command." He turned to the stablemaster who had been listening in to the conversation under the guise of adjusting the messenger's tack. "Saddle my horse. I want to be there by noon."

"What's happened?"

Jung whirled, coming face-to-face with Soo, who was in the process of yawning and pinning her hair up.

"So took the throne. Yo must be dead. He's calling me to the capital," he said shortly. "I'm leaving now."

For a moment, Soo looked paler than usual, but when she looked up at him, she smiled. "See you tonight, then!"

If I live that long. "See you then," he said, with a wan grin.

/

Swearing his allegiance, his fealty – his sword and his lands to the service of the new king took shorter than he expected. Unlike traditionalist Moo, or Yo who enjoyed lavish ceremonies, So wanted to get things over with quickly. He looked uncomfortable on his golden throne, and Jung wondered if So had killed Yo himself, or had someone else do it for him. He had never seemed the sort to hire assassins, but there was so much Jung didn't know about So, he realized.

When the throne room began to empty, Jung turned also, ready to go home, but So stopped him. "Stay, Jung."

Jung remained, head bowed, shoulders tense.

"Congratulations on your marriage," So said, and the venom in his voice was immeasurable.

Jung's teeth gritted. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

"Baek Ah told me everything."

Jung's head shot up. "And what did our thirteenth brother tell Your Majesty?" he asked.

"What do you think he told me?" So threw back.

"The truth. That Hae Soo is happy in Chungju. That she came to me of her own free will, and that she remained with me as such. That I have placed no restrictions on her – and that our friendship has continued, untarnished," Jung said in as monotone a voice as he could. "I have never known Baek Ah for a liar." It sounded too much like a challenge, even to his own ears, but he did not back down, could not back down.

So stiffened, then sighed. "I know," he said quietly, his eyes uncharacteristically soft, the anger leaving him, only exhaustion remaining in its place. "Is she… Doing well?"

Surprised, Jung met his eyes. "She's well," he said. "The fresh air is good for her." Getting out of the palace was good for her. "She… She paints," he added, a smile coming unbidden to him.

"I think she'd always wanted to get out of the palace," So said. "Ever since she came in."

Jung nodded, and the words fell from his lips as he thought them. "I'm sorry," he said, then stopped, cutting himself off.

So nodded, his eyes softening a little further. "You are dismissed."

/

Jung rode like a pack of wolves were on his heels all the way back to Chungju, eating a meal of dried strips of meat in the saddle, ignoring the pain in his legs from riding so hard for so long. When he finally reached home, he saw that the lanterns had been lit, and that Soo stood on the doorstep, awaiting his arrival. He grinned at her. "So, I'm still alive, apparently," he said by way of greeting, dismounting, and trying not to wince.

"Did… Did he say anything?" Soo asked hesitantly.

Trying to remain cheerfully neutral, Jung shrugged. "He asked if you were doing well. I said the fresh air was good for you."

She nodded thoughtfully, and Jung swept by her.

"Wow, I'm hungry! I could eat an entire herd of beef!" he exclaimed, stretching his arms above his head.

It was as if Soo could not hear him, and his heart sank a little.

Dinner was quiet, she didn't say much, and Jung gave up on speaking after several attempts at a conversation.

A week passed in that vein, and he wasn't sure if she was avoiding him, or truly deep in thought. He drilled in the yard almost for the entirety of his day, and at times, he caught Soo watching him, but saying nothing. He tried to grin at her, answered at times with a half-hearted smile.

/

Baek Ah came by again, bringing a bottle of southern rice wine with him, and when he sat down at Jung's table, he looked abashed. "I'm sorry," he said. "I said a lot of things last time I was here. Will you forgive me?"

Relieved that the rift between him and Baek Ah was closing, Jung grinned. "My answer will depend on how good that wine is," he said, reaching across the table to playfully punch Baek Ah's shoulder. Had he spoken to So? What had So said to him?

Grinning back at him, Baek Ah raised an eyebrow. "Oh, once you taste this, you'll love me forever." He held up the bottle. "Woo Hee swears by it."

/

When he came in to their room one night, as the leaves had already begun turning, he found Soo sitting cross-legged on the bed, holding hairpins in her hands. One was a white peony with some leaves and reddish berries, a hairpin he'd seen her wear almost every day, on their wedding day, also. The other was the opalescent court lady's hairpin Soo had held to her throat on a long-ago day, that he'd kept as a memento.

Jung did not curse out loud, to his benefit. She must have found it in the drawer of his desk.

"Are you alright?" he asked, and she looked up, guiltily, as if he'd caught her doing something wrong.

"Oh! Yes." She hid both hairpins behind her back.

Deciding not to push it further, Jung began to lay out his bedroll.

"Don't you want to sleep up here?" she asked, and he turned slowly.

"I appreciate it, Soo, but the floor is hard. It can be pretty painful if you're not used to it," he said, grinning and waving her off.

She rolled her eyes. "No, as in, with me," she clarified.

"Uh, are you… Entirely sure that's a great idea?" Jung began to ask. "I mean what with… Y'know…" Your sleeping habits and the… Sword in my pocket.

The exasperated sigh she breathed out, and the half-amused, half-frustrated twist to her lips threw him even further off-balance. Don't be an idiot. She doesn't want you.

"Is there something you want to talk about?" he asked desperately. "Because I can talk from here."

"You don't want to?" Soo asked, and this time he was almost sure she was flirting with him.

Fruitlessly trying to keep his face from heating, Jung tried to formulate words. "It's not that I don't want to, It's that…" He couldn't come up with anything.

In one smooth motion, she rose from the bed, and grabbed the front of his tunic. "Do you want to kiss me?" she asked.

No sound came out of his mouth for a long time as his wide eyes took in her flushed cheeks, mischievously sparkling eyes, wet, parted lips- "Not that I don't, but… Are you… Is this… Some kind of a joke or something?"

Soo seemed to deflate, letting out a tired breath and dropping to the floor beside him. "No, I just… I don't know anymore. I think, more than anything… I want to love you. I want to fall in love with you, and be happy in this sunlit house for ever and ever." She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "I know you're in love with me. I thought we could make this work… I-It's not pity, it's not for your sake – I just… It's for mine. I'm sorry, I'm selfish, I know…"

"It's alright." Overstepping my boundaries. He leaned in, cupping her cheek with one hand, briefly, lightly, pressing his lips to hers, shutting his eyes as he felt them, soft and warm, sending thrills all through him even in that single moment. It was different than what he had expected; had not expected – so beautifully different; imagination never having come close to the real thing. She smelled of flowers, as always. "Fine," he said, swallowing thickly. "You want to try falling in love with me? Go for it. See… See how it goes. And if it doesn't work, I won't… It'll be alright either way. I won't make it uncomfortable between us."

She stared at him, eyes wide and shining, bringing her fingertips up to her lips, and then she nodded once. "I'm sorry," she breathed, leaning her forehead against his. "I don't want to hurt you…"

"Don't be," he managed. "I'm a tough man." I love you.

She was the one to kiss him this time, and she did it hard, pulling him up with her by the front of his tunic and dragging him over to the bed. She was warm and soft, pressed up against him, cool fingertips drawing lines down his back and neck, trailing across his jaw. He could barely breathe, and he clutched her to himself as if he never intended to let go. He was tempted to think, 'Finally!' but the rational side of him only told him that it was a trial period, a matter of time before she decided she could not fall for him. He was too young, too harsh, too-

And then she pushed him back and he fell onto the bed as she straddled him – and all thought went out the window with every strained breath. His tunic was gone, he wasn't exactly sure when it had left but it was probably on the floor somewhere, along with his boots.

Jung looked up at her over top of him, her dark hair like a curtain separating them from the rest of the world, the flickering candlelight casing a sparkling glow into her large eyes, setting them alight, and she smiled at him. "Do you mind?" she asked.

"Not at all," he said with a breathless sort of bravado. He wasn't entirely inexperienced. He'd had a woman before, twice, both in Khitan, both paid for. Both times he'd buried his face in their hair and inadvertently called Soo's name, then felt bad about it.

He reached up and ran a hand down her side, coming to rest on the soft curve of her waist, leaning up to kiss her again, but it was brief, and she pushed him down again. Her palm was hot against his chest, and a trail of heat followed it down to his hip, and when her thumb rubbed the inside of his hip, where his leg and torso met, he let out an audible gasp.

Her expression could have been called a smirk, and that, in combination with several other things, it did things to him. Pleasant things, admittedly.

Jung wanted to laugh at the little look of triumph on Soo's face, but she swept down to kiss him, tongue pressing against his, and he could make no sound but a groan into her mouth as she shifted again, grinding her hips against his.

When she broke away for air, Jung did not let the opportunity go to waste and pressed his lips to her neck, snapping his own hips up, getting a satisfying gasp from Soo in return. Fumbling a little, he pulled at the ties to the front of her nightdress until it fell from her shoulders.

Her skin was smooth and pale, her breasts small and perky, and she laughed breathily down at him again, perfect and unashamed. He almost stopped breathing when she cupped her own breast, taking her nipple in between two fingers and rolling it a little. His face flared red and he fell back again at her nudge to his shoulder. She kissed him again and again and again, and he kissed her back, hands tangling in her hair, gasps lost in each other's mouths.

The candles guttered out one by one, and they remained in the dark, barely noticing.

She pulled at the ties to his trews and Jung surrendered himself to her and she did what she wanted; which was what he wanted – and in the panting, hot moments between pleasure and more pleasure, he thought that this could be the first and last time he would hold her this way.

Above him, she took charge and he devoted himself to her. Jung breathed Soo's name against her skin, kissing every inch he could reach, reveling in every moment as if it was his last with her, because it very well could have been. Everything he did was for her.

Their movements were slow, measured, but there was desperation in Jung's every groan and excitement in Soo's breathless cries. He wanted to be careful, to be gentle – not to show his undue want for her, but to treat her with as much love and care as he could. She never said Jung's name, nor anyone else's, though he said hers a thousand times and perhaps more.

When they broke apart, spent, gleaming with sweat and shaking with the aftershocks of pleasure, they lay, or rather, fell down side by side. When he turned to her, to say that he loved her, Soo was already fast asleep, clutching the covers around herself.

He brushed a damp lock of hair away from her peacefully sleeping face, then slipped out of bed, picking up his boots and tunic from the floor; tying the front of his trews as he slunk silently out.

Jung spent the rest of the night with his sword in his hand, fighting invisible enemies in the moonlit courtyard.

/

After that, things continued as usual. She did not avoid him, but she did not invite him so close again, and he maintained the proper distance of friendship, taking out his bedroll every night. They spoke of trivial things, laughing in the golden autumn sunlight, as before. It was good enough.

Or, so Jung told himself. There were nights when he remembered her hot breath on his skin, or when he remembered the tears in her eyes as she told him she was selfish, and the scent of flowers in her hair when he told her it was alright. Was he that bad in bed? Did she give up on the idea of trying to fall in love with him? Was it the pain of leaving So that made her cling to him for that moment? Or, through no real fault of his or hers, she realized they were incompatible as a couple.

He wanted to believe the latter more than the others; if any.

/

Soo seemed to actually like shopping. It was incomprehensible to Jung, who could simply give a servant money, tell him the things he wanted – and voila; his things would be there. It was quick, convenient and easy. Soo, on the other hand, enjoyed the process of looking at things, then choosing, then haggling.

Of course, Jung tagged along. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword and glared when he didn't like the way people were looking at her, and he liked to see her happy and enjoying herself. He walked a little behind her, and when he caught a glimpse of them in a puddle beside the road, he realized he looked more like a bodyguard than a husband.

She chatted all sorts of people up, peasants, merchants, shopkeepers, regardless of who they were, Soo could simply smile at them, and Jung would stand there, marveling at how quickly a bond would develop. Soo had a light within her that she constantly shared with others, and Jung considered himself lucky to stand by her side, even as a simply a friend – because he got to be alongside her.

Of course, he would get caught staring at her, and she would grin and roll her eyes, and drag him to the next stall in the market, where it would all start over again.

Belatedly, as more and more things were piled into his arms, Jung realized he should have brought a servant along, but it was too late now.

Soo saw a bolt of deep green silk and dragged him over to it. "What do you think?" she asked.

Jung looked at it, then at her. Soo was pale, so dark colors would make her look even more so. He shrugged. "How about that light pink? I think that color sits well on you."

She rolled her eyes. "Not for me – for you."

"Uh, I already have clothes," Jung said.

"I haven't seen you wear anything that didn't look like a military uniform since our wedding day," Soo said dryly, "So I have a really hard time believing that."

He shrugged. "Robes are harder to fight in."

"You don't have to fight anyone," Soo said, puzzled.

Jung winced. How was he supposed to explain that he felt as if there was always a fight to be had, a war to be fought, an attack coming – and he had to be ready for it? Even when he briefly wore his wedding robes or robes of office, he had a dagger at his belt. Ever since he had returned from Khitan, he'd left his sword in his bedroom when he slept. But Soo didn't have to know. He forced a smile. "I always thought dark blue was more my color."

"Oh, maybe!"

"Hey, don't get too carried away," he said, the smile that rose to his face this time entirely genuine. I love you.

/

Baek Ah came by one evening, this time, regrettably, without a bottle of any sort (Jung's own wine was never as good); only with his lute on a strap over his back. The three of them ate dinner together, laughing and reminiscing – and Jung could almost believe that no time had passed since the day Soo burst into that clearing to save him, that Eun wasn't dead and that Soo was alright, happier than she truly was.

"…-I was not!" protested Soo laughing almost too hard for her words to come out. "I told you, I lost my memory!"

"How convenient," Baek Ah said dryly. "I wish I could lose my memory that conveniently."

"Yes, it is suspicious, isn't it?" Jung grinned.

Soo groaned, covering her heated face. "Ugh… You guys are ganging up on me, it isn't fair…"

Jung poured her and Baek Ah a little more to drink. "I'll come over to your side, Soo, if you promise to sing for me on my birthday, coming up soon," he said with a grin.

Downing the contents of her cup, Soo grinned back. "Deal."

Baek Ah made a face at the both of them. "Now you're ganging up on me – how is that fair?"

Their faces were all flushed from drink, lighthearted laughter building up in their chests, and Jung wished that he could always see Soo like this; the candlelight adding to the sparkle in her dark eyes, hands moving animatedly as she spoke, the fine features of her face bathed in a soft yellow glow, her clear laughter ringing as if she had not a care in the world. Even if they would not be together as anything more than friends, to see her like this, sometimes Jung truly did believe it was enough. If I truly love her, it means I can go without being selfish – and I love her more than anything.

Her happiness gave her beauty, and her wide smile made the whole world want to smile back. A lock of hair tumbled down to frame her face on one side, and she did not seem to notice, but Jung noticed, once more that she was not wearing her usual hairpin.

"…-Jung?"

He blinked, looking over at Baek Ah, realizing he had been asked a question. "Huh?"

"I was asking if you could remember me ever getting drunk enough to try and dance with a chair, because I don't remember at all, and I'm convinced it didn't happen."

Looking at Soo who leaned forward expectantly, Jung furrowed his brow. "I can't remember when – I know it wasn't Eun's wedding – but I do remember it happened."

"Bullshit it did!" Baek Ah exclaimed. "I don't remember that at all!"

Jung snorted. "Well, you wouldn't – I was surprised you could even open your eyes the next morning."

Baek Ah swore and Soo laughed triumphantly. "I told you!"

They calmed after a while, feeling a little drowsy, letting the cool evening breeze in through the open windows as Baek Ah picked out a tune on his lute. Soo leaned back in her chair, eyes closed, a blissful little smile on her lips, and Jung sat forward, drinking a little more than he probably should – but not enough to get drunk. Just tipsy enough to make things seem funnier than they really were. The sky outside was dark, and the stars were beginning to emerge as the breeze rustled through the trees.

"It's getting late, so I should probably go," Baek Ah said, stilling the strings of his lute after a while, blinking as if he was awakening from a deep sleep.

"I have plenty of room, you know, if you want to stay the night. It's already pretty dark out," Jung suggested, and Soo nodded.

Baek Ah nodded, smiling. "Thanks."

"No problem," Jung said with a shrug.

Baek Ah left the room, and Soo turned to Jung, stretching her arms above her head and yawning a little. "I think sleeping might be a good idea now," she said, finishing what was left in the bottom of her cup.

Jung noticed that a drop of wine glistened at the corner of her mouth. "You have something, uh, on your face. Right there."

She put a hand to her cheek.

"No, down-"

"There?"

"No-" Instinctively, he reached out, brushing it away with his thumb – then instantly regretting it.

His thumb brushed her lower lip and she looked up at him with wide, shining eyes, her cheeks flushed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean-" Immediately, he drew back, taking a step away, backwards, the heel of his boot hitting a chair leg.

Soo gave him a little mischievous smile, a cute little smirk that made him shiver a little, and gave him a little push, palm flat against his chest, fingers splayed. Taken by surprise and unbalanced by drink, he sat heavily down as she stood over him. "What didn't you mean?" she asked, leaning over, bracing herself on the armrest.

He could think of nothing to say. "I-"

"Can I kiss you?"

Her fingertips were cool under his chin and he almost shivered again. Are we doing this again? "Soo, I-"

"Yes or no?" she asked.

He could not breathe and his gaze lingered too long on her lips, poised above his, so close. "…Yes," he whispered.

She kissed him, grabbing a fistful of his outer robe and wrenching him closer. He responded more slowly, cupping the back of her head, shutting his eyes. Her hair smelled of flowers, her lips were soft and tasted of wine, filling his senses.

When she broke the kiss, she did not move away, and he drank her in, their breaths mingling. Her eyes glowed in the dying candlelight, the flickering shadows on her face playing across her cheeks. She looked conflicted, her brow furrowing a bit, and his heart clenched. As if steeling herself against something unpleasant, a duty to perform, she drew in a breath, about to kiss him again, but he pressed his fingertips against her mouth.

"Don't," he said quietly. "If it's too hard for you, you shouldn't try. It's alright." Jung tried to smile at her, and let his hand rest on her shoulder for but a moment before he stood swiftly and left the room.

He stepped outside, head in his hands, trying to rub away the onset of a headache, or tears prickling behind his eyes. The night air cooled the heat of the wine and the heat of her kiss and he took several large breaths of it. Like he said. It was fine. He was fine. As long as she was happy, as long as he could stay by her side – it was alright. He told her he wouldn't get hurt. He took in a deep breath, gathered himself and looked up, straightening his shoulders.

A throat cleared behind him, and he whirled, but it was only Baek Ah.

"I thought you were getting ready for bed," Jung said, trying to smile.

"I was," the thirteenth prince said neutrally, "But I forgot my lute in the dining room."

Jung nodded. "Right." He glanced down at the instrument, trying to think of a joke to lighten the air. "You sleep with that thing, or what? Doesn't your woman get jealous?"

Baek Ah smiled a little. "Just as much as I get jealous of her swords." His expression grew more serious. "What is going on?"

Thrown by the non-sequitur, Jung blinked. "What? What's going on where?"

"With you and Soo. I heard something. You said not to try if it was too hard," Baek Ah said. "She kissed you, didn't she?"

Jung's jaw tightened. "If you're going to tell me to step out of the way for So, you've chosen the wrong time, brother."

Baek Ah shook his head. "That's not what this is about. Well, only a little bit, but it's not what you think. So's getting married to Yeon Hwa soon. It's not official knowledge, but he has to do it to secure the throne."

"Yeon Hwa?" Jung repeated. If Soo found out… She would be upset. "I see. So, what do you want from me?"

"I'm worried about you. Both of you. You're my brother and she's my best friend," Baek Ah said. "I'm sorry for doubting you, I really am."

Jung let out a deep breath, leaning back against the wall. "She wants to try to fall in love with me. That's what she told me. And I…" he took in a deep breath, "I'm the fool that thought I could be anything more than what I am to her. She says she's trying for her own sake, but…" He shut his eyes tightly, willing the shakiness in his voice to go away, and the prickle at the back of his eyes not to come back.

Baek Ah hugged him.

/

Jung had taken a break from training, his eyes drawn to the sunlit pavilion in which Soo took her tea, a beam of sunlight warming the shade of her hair to a golden brown, making her eyes shine with gold. There was something so delicate, yet strong in the way she held herself; he wanted to protect her and fight alongside her both at the same time – and the slight curve of her lips as she read, a teacup in one hand was enough to make him never want to take his eyes off of her again.

"Wistfulness seems to suit you, brother."

He started at the voice behind him, shooting a glare. Who the hell let him in?

Wook looked mildly back at him. "Hello."

Jung inclined his head. "What are you doing here?"

Smiling a little, Wook spread his hands. "Visiting, of course."

Taking a step to the side, Jung blocked Wook's view of Soo sitting and obliviously reading in the pavilion. "Alright," he said evenly. "So, what do you want?"

Expression souring a fraction, Wook shook his head. "I'm not your enemy, Jung – don't look at me like that."

Trying to keep his voice and face deadpan, Jung shrugged. "Like what? Whatever. Let's go inside, we can talk there."

Wook nodded, but he looked over Jung's shoulder and smiled, lifting a hand. Jung turned and saw Soo standing at the top of the steps to the pavilion, the breeze ruffling her hair and skirts, her back perfectly straight and her eyes cold as she looked down at Wook. She inclined her head a fraction.

Jung's jaw tightened and he put a heavy arm around Wook's shoulders, shooting an apologetic glance at Soo. He was taller than his older brother – and stronger, he realized as he purposefully steered Wook into the house, forcing a grin. "Let's have a drink – talk always goes well with drink."

Wook raised a mild eyebrow. "Tea?"

"I was thinking something stronger." For dealing with you, at least.

"Strong tea?"

Jung rolled his eyes. "Sour Naju wine," he told the servant, and then sat at his desk, Wook sitting across from him.

Wook shook his head a little. "Goodness," he muttered. "Don't tell me you've turned into a drunkard."

"Hey, don't tell me you've turned into a wet blanket," Jung shot back, smiling involuntarily. It was so easy to slip back into the grooves that were worn deep into the relationships with his brothers. Wook was not someone he thought he knew anymore, but there were still so many memories of carefree laughter…

"Oh, you know me – always ready to spoil everyone's fun," Wook said wryly.

"Alright, so what did you want?" Jung asked, opting for a jovial tone that he hoped didn't sound too forced. "You might have missed me a lot, but I'm not a fool. You want something."

Sighing, Wook nodded. "You see right through me, little brother," he said quietly.

The servant entered, bearing a bottle and two cups on a tray, which was set down on Jung's desk. Jung poured wine for the both of them and settled back. "So? What?"

Wook took a sip of wine and grimaced. "Actually," he said, gingerly setting the cup down, "It's about the king. He seems to like me even less than you do, for reasons quite beyond my understanding. I was hoping you would put in a good word for me."

Jung raised both eyebrows, downing the contents of his cup without even blinking. "We're not exactly best friends either, His Majesty and I."

"Trivialities. You have Baek Ah's ear, and Baek Ah has the king's," Wook said, waving a hand.

"And what would you want me to say? 'Oh, yeah, how about you tell So he should make Wook his first advisor and heir?' That would go over well."

Wook winced. "You misunderstand me. Just a good word or two – nothing drastic. I want to spend the rest of my life, however long it may be, not looking over my shoulder at every breath of wind."

Jung sighed and poured himself more wine. "I'm not good at politics. I'm a general, and there's no war to fight now. In order of princes, I was named fourteenth – so my power is limited. All I can say to you is lay low. Don't try to be king. You already managed to get Yeon Hwa married to So – don't push it."

Stiffening, Wook's lips thinned. "I see," he said. "So, you won't help me?"

"I'm telling you there's nothing I can do that you can't," Jung said. "I don't have much reason to like you anymore, but I don't hate you, and for… For everyone's sake, I want you to turn out alright in the end." For Soo's sake. It's what she would want.

Wook nodded. "I see," he said again. "That was all I could have hoped for, anyway." He smiled. "Give my best to Soo, will you?"

"Sure," Jung said, filling his cup again.

Wook smiled, but his eyes were cold. "I was once wishing to marry her, you know. As was So."

Jung's jaw tightened. "I know."

"Seems odd you'd be the one to have that honor," Wook said.

Standing, Jung moved his chair in and downed his full cup of wine, keeping his eyes on Wook the entire time. He shrugged, forcing a smile. "I don't know. Some women prefer a man that supports her instead of one that walks away when things get difficult."

/

"…-And then he said, 'Give my best to Soo, will you?'" Jung finished, mouth twisting in a dry expression. The rest was really unnecessary – if she asked, he would tell her, but… Did she really need to know Wook's petty comments and his own insecurities?

Soo nodded. "Thank you for telling me. And thank you for… Doing what you did, saying what you said."

Jung paused. "There's… Nothing you want me to tell him from you?"

"No. I have nothing to say to him, and he hasn't quite realized he has nothing to say to me."

Thank the gods. Trying not to breathe an audible sigh of relief, Jung opted for a silent grin, stealing a sweet rice-cake from her plate.

Soo noticed, smacking his shoulder. As the golden sunlight streamed down around her, she shook her head a little, a small smile forming on her lips as she looked at him. His heart jumped in his chest.

"You know… Most of the time, I don't even notice how young you really are," she said softly.

"I'm a man grown," he said defensively around the rice cake in his mouth. "You're not that much older than I am."

"I guess not," she said.

"I'm just full of youthful energy," he said, swallowing. "I'm both extremely mature and wise – and able to approach things with youthful enthusiasm. It's the perfect combination," he joked.

"Don't forget humble," Soo said.

"That too," he said, grinning. "I'm a man of many talents."

"That you are…" Soo's smile was soft and warm, as were her lips against his cheek for a brief moment. Jung stared at her as she rose and left the pavilion.

/

Jung sent a letter to Baek Ah, telling him about Wook's visit. He got no reply, but he heard of Wook's house arrest and wasn't sure to be happy or unhappy. Wook was his brother, after all, even after everything.

/

On the day the royal wedding was announced, Jung was out on a hunt with some of the local noblemen, and when he returned home; a deer for dinner carried by the grooms – the first thing he saw was the messenger.

"Your Highness! Do you have a message for the king in regards to-"

Tired and unwilling to deal with courtly etiquette, Jung waved a hand. "Tell him I say 'congratulations on your marriage, Your Majesties,' or something like that," he said. "It's because he's getting married to Yeon Hwa, right?"

At the nod from the messenger, Jung waved a hand at him, and only then did he look past the messenger to realize that Soo stood only a few feet away.

"I'm home," he said, trying for a smile. Had she heard the news already?

She stood before him, arms crossed, lips thinned and eyes hard. "You knew," she said, and her sharp voice was an accusation. "You knew and you never said anything."

Jung froze. "I…"

"Why didn't you tell me? Because you were afraid I'd try to stop them? Run away from you?" she snapped, cold fury the likes of which he had not heard before in her voice.

"That wasn't- I never meant-"

"I thought you were better than that."

"Soo, listen!" he said urgently, taking her by the shoulders. "I swear to you, it was only because I did not want to upset you. Forgive me, please. I know you still love him. I should have told you right when Baek Ah told me, but I… I didn't want to see you-"

Soo seemed to deflate. "I'm sorry. I'm just taking my anger out on you," she said quietly. "I just… The thought of her with him…"

"It gets easier," Jung said quietly. "If it helps, Baek Ah said it was political."

Soo's dry laugh and shake of the head startled him. "Alone on the throne, stuck in a loveless marriage… And to think Baek Ah didn't tell me… No, it doesn't make me feel better."

"I'm sorry."

They stood in silence for a while, until Soo looked up at him. "Can we make a promise?" she asked tentatively. "A promise that we won't keep things from each other."

He nodded. "I swear it." I love you.

She smiled tremulously. "As do I."

/

Jung kept his promise. The next time he woke up, crying out, clawing at the air, Soo was by his side. She asked him and he told her. He told her about the men that died under his command, about the men he killed whose faces he couldn't remember, about the snow that turned red with their blood. He told her about the first time he rode into glorious battle, and rode out of an inglorious massacre. About the time he had been separated from his company, and how he'd had to hack through so many men, so many bodies, to get back to his people – all while the snow fell in blinding flurries.

There were tears in her eyes, but the set of her jaw was strong, and she nodded, pulling his head onto her shoulder, stroking his hair.

It was difficult to say it. To say all of it like that to her. He expected her to flinch away from him at least, to wince when he told her. It didn't get easier to speak of it, even as he went on; he stumbled over words and there were times when he could not speak at all.

Soo's hands in his hair lulled him to sleep.

For many nights afterwards, Jung expected for it to be easier for him to sleep, but it wasn't. What was more comforting was the fact that Soo knew all this about him, gentle, peaceful Soo – and she did not seem to stop caring about him as a deep, far-away part suspected she would.

It wasn't easier for him to sleep yet, but it was easier for him to wake up.

/

On his birthday, the table was set with a lavish feast, and he sat with Soo at the head of the table. The table was set out on the balcony, where the autumn sunshine could make its way in through the fiery leaves.

"I'll sing for you," Soo said with a smile. "Like I promised."

She sang the same song as at Eun's birthday on that long-ago day, and something about the clearness of her voice rising above the rustling of the breeze through the leaves almost brought tears to his eyes as the dark golden light of the setting sun illuminated her.

When she stopped, Jung smiled at her. "That was beautiful," he said. I love you.

/

The days got colder and colder. Soo may have been an active sleeper, but her nightmares were quieter. Jung only noticed when he'd woken up from one of his own, seen her sit slowly up, panting, eyes wide and haunted in the dark. He cursed himself for only noticing now.

He stood, coming to sit at the foot of the bed. "Are you alright?"

Her smile was tired and pained. "This doesn't usually happen. It's the first time in months. Not like you."

"Do you want to talk about it, or…?" he left the offer hanging, never an obligation, only a tenuous offer of a sympathetic ear, a supporting shoulder to cry upon, perhaps.

"They're just dreams about the… The palace." Automatically, her hand went to where her knee rose under the covers, and Jung cursed under his breath when he realized she dreamed of the tortures in the palace dungeons.

Laying a hand over hers lightly, he met her eyes. "I'm sorry. I should have done more." He'd argued with Won, with his mother, with his other brothers – and they acted as if they could do nothing. He was ordered locked in his quarters, and only when he saw Soo's frail shoulders bowing under the weight of the rain, a tiny white shape before the stony façade of the Cheondeokjeon – only then did he do anything.

She smiled. "Baek Ah told me you knelt in the rain with me," she said.

"It wasn't enough," he said quietly. "Does it still pain you?"

She seemed ready to deny anything of the sort, but she cut herself off and looked down. "…Sometimes," she said quietly.

"I will order treatments for it," he said.

Her little ghost of a shy smile in the dark held his breath in his throat and refused to let it go. "Thanks."

"…Any time." I love you.

/

The cold wetness of late autumn wreaked havoc with Soo's knee, no matter how much she tried to hide it. Several of the best doctors from the capital had examined her and prescribed various treatments (and Jung suspected So may have had a hand in their eagerness to treat her, though he could prove nothing). There was acupuncture, balms, advice to wear woolen pants under her dress, advice to gently exercise it, different medicinal teas and a whole array of other things that Jung couldn't keep track of.

But between all of the doctors and physicians, the consensus was the same; Soo's knee was never going to be the same.

There was something ingrained in Soo's character, a need to say she was fine, that she was doing alright even when she wasn't, and it took someone who'd known her for a long time to see it. Jung didn't want to brag, but since he'd come to know her, and now that he'd been living with her, it was easy for him. He walked a little behind her as they traversed the city, a hand resting on the pommel of his sword, and he would notice.

"Are you alright?" he would ask, noticing a barely-perceptible limp in her step, or a shadow of pain in her eyes.

"Oh, I'm fine," she'd say as they walked through the city on a day when the weather was particularly nice.

As opposed to contradicting her, perhaps even embarrassing her (for who better than Jung knew that admitting to weakness was hard?) – he did literally anything else. "Let's go and have some tea!" he would suggest – and she would be able to rest while they sat in some teahouse.

Then, there were times when it was so painfully obvious, and her limp so pronounced that he wouldn't even ask, like when they were walking back to the estate. "I apologize," he would say. I love you.

Her eyebrows would draw together in confusion. "For wha- Oh!"

Jung lifted her easily, carrying her the rest of the way home.

Sometimes she would playfully curse at him, sometimes she would just laugh, and other times she rested silently against him.

He had their room heated to the point of being almost unbearable because the cold exacerbated her knee, and when the pain seeped through her sleep, the nightmares became more frequent. She used the salve, and Jung turned his back when she pulled her skirts up about her thighs and rubbed it in, the smell of camphor and citrus permeating the room.

/

The trees had lost almost all of their leaves and the air snapped with cold.

"Come over here!" Soo called. She sat at a table in the garden's pavilion, fur rugs wrapped around her, painting as he practiced the sword. There were little ink smudges on her hands, and she bit her lips when she concentrated. A lock of hair tumbled down from the braided chignon on the back of her head, and Jung noticed she wore no hairpin at all, as she had for quite a while now. Briefly, he wondered if it was some sort of fashion statement.

Jung sheathed his sword and wiped his forehead with his sleeve, coming up the steps to stand by her side, looking down at the drying painting before her on the table.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

It was of a swordsman in motion, in a garden full of autumn, pale sunlight coming in bright spots through the ragged leaves onto his armor, three-quarters of his back turned towards the viewer. Almost tangibly crunchy leaves fell like snow, coming to land on his shoulders and in his long hair – but his back seemed so lonely in that garden full of careful brushstrokes. The colors were subdued, laid on in light washes.

Soo's fingers traced the sharp line of the man's forehead and cheekbone, the only parts visible of his face.

"I do," he said. "Who is it?"

Soo shrugged, eyes on him. "Who do you think?"

His first thought was So, but he stopped himself before saying anything, only shrugging in answer.

"Prince Jung – I knew I wasn't a professional, but I can't be that bad that you don't recognize it!"

He squinted at the page, and realized that the garden was his own, right here, and the realization struck him that Soo had been drawing him. "Oh, damn me – that's me! It's very beautiful. Maybe I should devote a room in the manor to displaying your paintings."

She blushed a little, and his heart skipped a beat. "Oh, stop it," she muttered.

"I mean it." I love you.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, prince."

"On the contrary, my lady," he said with a joking grin, "My charms work on everyone. Don't you feel more positively disposed to me when I'm saying nice things?"

Soo swatted his arm. "Come on, you couldn't charm your way out of a sack, you're too straightforward."

He pretended to be offended. "I'm the most charming man I know!"

"You must not know many charming men," she said with mock aloofness.

"I know Baek Ah," Jung said, shrugging.

"He's monogamous now, he doesn't count," Soo said.

Jung made a face. "While you may not wish to acknowledge my charms yet, I've been told that women like straightforward men." He leaned over the table, bracing himself against the back of her chair to look more closely at the painting.

Soo put a hand to her brow, as if scanning the horizon. "Yes, where have they all gone?" she asked.

"Hey, your husband is right in front of you!" Jung laughed.

Soo turned a little, reaching out and patting his cheek for a moment. "Your charm is in your straightforwardness," she said gently.

Jung froze. For a moment he thought of nothing but kissing her, and how easy it would be, with her so close but he forced a grin. "Lunch is almost ready – let's get inside!"

Was it his imagination, or did she look a little disappointed?

/

Winter was here and the first snow was beginning to fall, white flakes whirling through the air one by one and melting when they alighted. They had been in the city, making an order of more winter garments for Soo, and Jung, as always, walked a little behind her, a hand on the hilt of his sword as was comfortable. More than once, as every time before, he realized he looked more like a bodyguard than a husband, but it didn't bother him much as she turned around and smiled.

"Let's go home," she said.

It was the first time she'd called his house home, and his heart skipped a beat. There was snow in her hair and a flush in her cheeks, the soft fur of her cloak brushing her jaw, and Jung let out a breathless half-laugh. "You're… Beautiful," he breathed, then caught himself. "It suits you, I mean," he added waving an all-encompassing hand at her, "The… Fur. And the snow."

She grinned mischievously at him, and looked around, making sure the road was empty of passerby before she stood on tiptoe and pressed her lips to his in a brief, playful kiss. "Thank you," she said.

It took him a few seconds to be able to formulate words and eject them from his mouth. "Oh. Uh, yeah. You're welcome."

Soo grinned again and linked her arm through his, leaning on him a little as they walked up the road back home. Perhaps her knee bothered her, but she didn't want to make it obvious. They walked in comfortable silence, but when they were almost at the gates, she looked up at him. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "I think I'm in love with you. I'm pretty sure now."

Jung choked on nothing. "What?"

She pouted at him. "I. Love. You," she said with exaggerated slowness. Her expression turned more serious as he looked down at her with wide eyes. "I don't know when it happened. Maybe for a while now, I have. It's because you're… You're faithful. You're the one who stands by my side, and I… I can't look at you like just a friend anymore. Would you still have me, even after everything I've been putting you through? It's been difficult for you, I know."

There was something fast, dreamlike, unreal about that moment, yet something so tangible in its simplicity. Jung could not bear to imagine a world where the leaping happiness in his heart could not come about.

He blinked down at her, trying to make sense of her words, the words he had never thought to hear. The snow came more thickly now, the icy flakes stinging his cheeks. Then he nodded. "I love you," he said simply, and it was as if a huge weight had fallen from him, as if he had just shed his armor after a day of battle. "I'll always love you."

She smiled up at him.

Slowly, carefully, as if she would dissolve into his imagination, he leaned down to kiss her. It was a brief, careful touch of lips, and once he was convinced she would not disappear he drew back, his palm lingering against her cheek.

A snowflake landed in her eyelashes, another melted like a teardrop on her flushed cheek, and he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his lips to the top of her head, inhaling the scent of flowers and ice.

/

Despite the sweetness of their moment outside of the manse's gates, the cold and the walk home had taken a bit of a toll on Soo's knee. Reveling in his newfound happiness, Jung decided to take advantage of the moment, refusing to feel guilty about it and holding back a grin.

She sat in a chair in their room, skirts tucked up about her thighs, one shapely bare leg resting in his lap as he kneeled before her, smoothing the salve over the mildly swollen scar tissue around her knee. He rubbed it gently in, looking up at her occasionally and meeting her eyes.

The third time he did so, she looked straight back at him, biting her lip a little. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing," she said.

He raised an eyebrow, trailing his fingers up her leg, a little further than was necessary. "And what am I doing?" Jung may have been the younger and less experienced of the two of them, but this was a game he could begin just as well as she could.

"Why, Your Highness, are you really unaware?" she asked him with mock surprise.

Jung grinned. "Enlighten me, my lady."

She playfully swatted at his head, and he laughed, pressing a kiss to the inside of her thigh. Her voice shook a little. "That… That tickles."

Pushing up her skirts a bit higher, Jung rose to one knee, leaning forward to kiss the other thigh, hand resting on her hip. Her hands stroked through his hair, undoing his topknot, tangling at the back of his neck.

"Can I…?" Jung asked.

"Go ahead," she said, smiling a little. He wanted to tell her that she was beautiful, because she really was, but he did not want to keep her waiting.

With her skirts around her waist, Jung leaned in to offer a gentle kiss between her legs. He'd never done anything like this, and he didn't want her to know it, as he'd seen something similar once, in a thin book tucked in between two books on astronomy in Ji Mong's library. Judging by her rising, breathless groan of pleasure, he was doing something right, though.

Her hands tightened in his hair and he continued, tasting her on his tongue, venturing further, glad that he was able to make her feel good despite his inexperience. He pulled her in closer by her hips. Jung had worried, ever since the first time they'd slept together, that he had not been good enough for her.

After some time, as her cries rose, and she clenched around his probing tongue, she pulled him away by the hair, her face flushed and her hands shaky.

Breathless himself, Jung looked up at her. "Was I…?" he trailed off.

She swallowed thickly, trying to breathe. "Great," she said. She closed her eyes, shaking her head. "Really great." When she opened them, she was smirking a little, and more than his heart jumped in response. "Come here."

He obeyed, and she wound an arm around his middle, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck, her other hand coming to a rest between his legs, and he felt a little weak at the knees. "The… The bed," he managed to say.

Unsure how they had stumbled all the way over there, only vaguely aware that they had knocked the chair over in the process, Jung was pushed back onto the bed. Soo pounced on him, for lack of a better word, and his breathless gasp was lost in her smirking mouth as she pushed his tunic off his shoulders, cool fingers and warm palms pressing against his chest.

Again, she took charge, kissing him hard on the mouth as he pulled at the ties to her multiple layers of dress. When she broke away for the both of them to breathe, Jung cursed through his teeth as he pulled at yet another tie. "How many of these bloody things-"

Soo laughed laying her hands over his and shedding the layers one at a time as his mouth dried in anticipation. She wiggled her hips against his and he stifled a groan as she pulled the last of her clothing off.

In the daylight, her skin was almost ethereal in its paleness and clear smoothness, and he ran a hand down her back, pulling her closer. She reached for the ties of his trews, laughing a little at the look on his face as he beheld her.

The first time they had been joined, he felt desperation the likes of which he had never felt before, but as he held her now, he felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of love and wholeness. His devotion to her was the same as on that night and her taking control was also; but when she whispered that she loved him as she kissed his jaw, and when he pulled her so close to him that there was no air left anywhere between them, they could both feel the difference.

"I love you," he breathed, repeating it again and again, her name dropping from his lips along with it. "Soo…" When they drew apart for breath, there was something there, as they looked into each other's eyes; something intimate and so beautiful he wanted to weep – a connection; a mutual connection.

When she cried out his name, without titles, without honorifics, he could barely stand it, and he struggled against his release, only allowing himself to tip over the edge when she did.

They kissed, slow, lingering, panting for breath when they broke apart. Soo toppled off him, and he lay back, chest heaving, pulling the blankets over them as the chill of the room finally reached their sweat-soaked skin.

She snuggled up against him and he looked down at her, smiling.

"Next time," Soo sighed, trailing her fingertips down his arm and smiling dreamily, "Let's do that against a wall."

Even despite everything, Jung tried hard not to blush. He failed.

/

There were other trials to come, of course; no couple was without their flaws. But despite the infrequent fights, miscommunications, the tribulations that came with pregnancy and childrearing among other things; Jung counted himself lucky every day, staying by her side more than in name.