Then he abruptly changed his train of thought. To the young servant who had gone to fetch the painting things.
"Sae-yeong will get soaked."
She ought to come back having changed out of her wet clothes. Afraid that, worried for Hui-seo, she would come running drenched, bringing only an umbrella — if she did, warm as the days had grown, she would surely catch a cold.
Nursing worries that could never reach the person herself, Hui-seo was gazing endlessly at the rainy sky when the door flew open behind him.
"Sae-yeong, already…."
Forgetting even that the place was far, thinking she had run there and come running back, Hui-seo turned at the sound of the door and his eyes went round.
"…Who might you be?"
The one who entered was not Sae-yeong but a handsome young man. Probably about his own age.
The young man, who clearly hadn't expected to meet anyone here, only blinked.
"Are you a hwawon (畵員)5), by any chance?"
Spotting the paper tube tucked at his side, Hui-seo guessed his identity.
"Ah… yes. That's right."
When his guess was voiced aloud, the man rolled his eyes and nodded a beat late.
A newly appointed rookie, perhaps. Judging by how he looked about his own age, it seemed a likely guess.
"And you are…?"
The hwawon trailed off with a discreet question, unable to gauge from Hui-seo's clothes alone.
Hui-seo hesitated a moment before answering.
"Ah. I'm staying at Cheongu-dang."
"Cheongu-dang…."
"I'm attending His Highness the Crown Prince."
Muttering "Cheongu-dang" a few times, the man seemed to deduce his identity as soon as Hui-seo added that he attended the Crown Prince.
"Then, that is…."
There was no need to think deeply about how the trailing words were woven together.
"Ha… so you're His Highness the Crown Prince's concubine mama."
The hwawon, wearing a strange expression — somehow fascinated, somehow pleased — quickly pressed his hands together and bowed.
"I pay my respects to Mama Seunghwi."
"Rise."
Each and every movement that followed the greeting was truly smooth and dignified. Better even than Seollan, who taught Hui-seo.
Not a rookie, then.
Well — Hui-won too had passed the examination at seventeen as a boy scholar, so this hwawon might also have shown talent early and belonged to the Dohwaseo. If so, he'd be accustomed to court etiquette.
The question that had surfaced was quickly resolved, but awkwardness settled in its place. He had suddenly grown self-conscious of his status as one belonging to the rear palace.
But neither could he coldly send the hwawon out into this rain, nor go out himself.
After a moment's thought, Hui-seo widened the distance. It would be a futile gesture, but making even the show of it seemed to ease his mind.
Sensing Hui-seo's inward discomfort, the hwawon took a matching step back, joining him in his wish.
Their voices died down, and instead the rain seeped into the quieted space. Listening to the rain, waiting only for Sae-yeong to come, Hui-seo's gaze drifted suddenly to the man's side.
More precisely, to the paper tube caught between his rain-sodden hem and his side.
"…That — it didn't get wet, did it?"
"Eh? Ah…!"
The hwawon, flustered himself, seemed only now to notice the tube. With a dismayed face he hurriedly opened it, took out what was inside, and spread it on the floor.
It was a painting.
Hui-seo leaned in before he knew it.
The corner was a little damp, but fortunately the painting itself seemed unharmed.
It was a flower-and-bird painting.
The petals layered thick upon thick, the bird gliding above them — full of life.
His admiration for the detailed brushwork lasted only a moment; his gaze was stolen by how, despite the riot of colors, they never looked garish but blended exquisitely.
"Colors can be combined like that…."
It was a murmur barely audible even to his own ears, but the young man whipped his head around.
"Mama Seunghwi seems deeply versed in painting."
"Before a hwawon, my skill is truly meager."
He waved his hand, saying he only practiced alone now and then out of interest. At that, the gaze toward Hui-seo grew even more animated — enough to make his earlier deliberate distancing seem pointless.
"Did you paint that?"
"How could I paint… no, this isn't —"
His words tangled and he flustered.
"I chanced upon it outside and bought it. I, too, was fascinated to learn colors could be combined like this."
As he chattered on — that usually, to express light and dark tones, one modulates shading to give depth, but here the impression of colors set side by side was so striking he couldn't not buy it — his eyes truly sparkled.
Seeing those eyes, Hui-seo understood why he had joined the hwawon. Those were eyes that loved art.
Perhaps because it was the first time in his life he'd met someone with similar interests. The wall of caution he'd tried so hard to raise began, little by little, to crumble.
"And Master Yeonun's work falls short of this, but the line is truly delicate yet bold — that too was quite striking."
"Have you seen Master Yeonun's paintings, Hwawon?"
Yeonun Jin Yeong-gi was a master painter who made his name decades ago; his works were owned mostly by the imperial family or the powerful —
— owned. When Hui-seo asked again, curious that one who was but a mere hwawon should mention Yeonun, the man stammered once more.
"Ah, since this is the palace, you'd have no trouble seeing Master Yeonun's paintings."
Hui-seo, who had tilted his head, realized that where he stood was the imperial palace, and his doubt resolved.
"Yes, yes… I suppose so."
The man nodded, pointlessly fussing with his sleeve.
"A painting by Master Yeonun…."
"Would you like to see one?"
"If the chance comes."
Famous as he was, many painters imitated his style. Which only made him more curious about Yeonun's true paintings.
"Hmm."
When Hui-seo readily agreed, the hwawon hummed as if thinking something over.
"Shall I show you one?"
"…What do you mean. Surely not Master Yeonun's painting?"
He grinned.
Hwawon of the Dohwaseo or not, could he take one out as he pleased? What if this got him in trouble?
Hui-seo could not readily answer.
Rumble. Just then, low thunder sounded beyond the window. He barely hid his agitation by clenching his fists.
"Mama!"
Just then Sae-yeong's voice came from outside. Only then did Hui-seo come to himself.
"Mama, it's raining so I couldn't bring the painting things, only the umbrella…."
Sae-yeong, coming in, trailed off at the sight of the hwawon. Her face, sizing up the stranger, was confusion itself.
She'd been so sure no one ever came here that it was almost embarrassing — of all days, the day she brought Hui-seo, they'd run into someone else. No wonder she was flustered.
"The servant brought an umbrella, so I must be going…. Hwawon, please stay here out of the rain."
Hui-seo lightly patted Sae-yeong and, bowing lightly, turned away.
"In two days."
"It's all right if you hesitate to come, but I only say it because I feel I've met a kindred spirit. Take care on your way, Mama."
His smooth way with words — pressing no burden, yet voicing a quiet expectation — was polished.
Instead of answering, Hui-seo put Sae-yeong ahead of him and went outside.
"I'm sorry, Mama. You were startled, weren't you? Really, in two years I've never seen anyone visit Yeonhwajeong…….."
Flustered yet dutiful, Sae-yeong held the umbrella over him and chattered.
"I think I was more startled than you."
"I left you alone, Mama — what if he'd been a ruffian. Of course, this being the palace, nothing like that could happen, but you never know."
Watching Sae-yeong shudder — saying even the thought made her knees weak — Hui-seo's smile lasted only a moment.
Thunder shook the air once more.
"Let's head back to Cheongu-dang for now."
Wiping away the smile that had briefly settled, Hui-seo quickened his steps.
All afternoon the thunder rang as if to tear the sky, then subsided, then rang again — noise and quiet by turns.
On the pretext of reading, Hui-seo sent even Sae-yeong away and shut himself in his room. But the page in his hand never turned, however much time passed.
In the meantime the bell announcing shinsi rang, and from Gyeongchun Palace — as for the past fortnight — no word came.
*I should rest now.*
He hadn't exactly been expecting anything; finishing a simple meal, Hui-seo announced he would retire early.
Sae-yeong silently looked to his bedding.
Left alone in the dark room, the lamp put out, Hui-seo did as he always did on rainy days — pulled the blanket over his head.
Pulling the blanket right over the top of his head, every sound grew muffled, as if soaked through with water.
Hidden inside, he quietly endured the time. Whether immunity developed — once he got past the beginning, when the rainy season had set in, for a while he could turn a deaf ear even to thunder.
He only had to let this moment pass well.
Clutching the blanket tight, Hui-seo tried to follow another train of thought, but in truth that thought always came back to the Crown Prince.
On thundering days, the one he'd always missed was Hui-won — but the Crown Prince had overwritten that memory.
Would he now think only of the Crown Prince, always?
The fleeting warmth he'd given him; achingly missing the bond his own stubbornness had strained.
He still didn't regret that day's choice, but he couldn't help growing gloomy.
If only he would scold him instead.
Then at least he could see his face. And then, perhaps, he might grow a little more lenient.
Just once.
"Hngh…."
Adjusting his grip on the blanket, he sighed — then noticed a strangely restless commotion.
He'd said everyone but those on watch could return to their quarters and rest — had the rain grown even heavier?
Listening to the sounds outside in the dark, the blanket was whisked off him in one motion.
All the sounds that had reached him dully, wrapped in darkness, sharpened at once.
The rain.
The thunder, sounding as if from far away.
"You're not a child."
Even the Crown Prince's voice, unfamiliar after so long.
"…Huh?"
Why could he hear the Crown Prince's voice? He wasn't asleep — was he dreaming?
His eyes, accustomed to darkness from being buried in the blanket, couldn't adjust at once to the sudden light. Squinting, Hui-seo mumbled at the vague shape.
"…Your Highness?"
As he kept blinking, the light gradually faded and the shape grew clear.
"Y-Your Highness…."
What the sharpened lines drew was the Crown Prince.
"H-how…. I heard no word that Your Highness had arrived."
Hastily sitting up, Hui-seo pressed the servant beyond the open door.
"I told them not to announce me, since you were said to be asleep."
It was the Crown Prince who answered in place of the equally flustered servant. The servant quickly nodded in affirmation.
"You're not sleeping — just hiding under the blanket like a child, covering your ears. Isn't that so."
"Th-that…."
"Everyone, leave us."
At the Crown Prince's command, the open door shut almost before the words fell. Only when the two of them were left in the bedchamber did Hui-seo come to himself.
"I greet Your High— ah!"
Coming down hastily from the bed, his feet tangled. He nearly fell, but barely kept his balance, and quickly straightened himself.
"I greet Your Highness."
The Crown Prince, who had awkwardly reached out a hand, looked at his own hand, then silently withdrew it.
"How is it you've come without word…."
"When I come to see my own consort, must I send word every single time?"
There was a subtle barb in his tone.
"That's not what I meant. Only, I feel remiss in receiving Your Highness…."
Hui-seo hurriedly shook his head, gathering up this and that to say.
"Is Your Highness's health all right?"
At a loss, flustering, Hui-seo changed the subject for no reason — then caught himself. It was already a fortnight past; he must have recovered, and he wouldn't much like that day mentioned.
A mistake.
"That day you boldly reached out your hand."
The Crown Prince, faltering with chagrin, stepped a foot closer.
"Aren't you going to roll about like you did that day, today too?"
He even bent himself down so that Hui-seo's hand could easily reach him.
Hui-seo, who had been hesitating, reached out his hand as if resolved. The fire-like heat was gone; only a pleasantly warm body temperature could be felt.
"I'm glad you seem to be all right."
Once his guess that he had recovered became certainty, his heart eased all the more. Hui-seo smiled bashfully, as if to make his hesitation of a moment ago colorless.
Then, seeing the Crown Prince's expressionless face, he mumbled and shuffled a step back. Was he going to just turn around and leave like this?
He stole glances, watching the Crown Prince's mood. If he left, that would be a little sad.
Rumble. Thunder struck.
Hui-seo clasped his flinching hands together. His slightly lowered eyes swept over them.
"We."
The Crown Prince, glancing irritably at the shut window, sat himself at the head seat and began.
"It's been quite a while since we last played baduk, hasn't it."
And those were words he was by no means sorry to hear.
Since Cheongu-dang was not otherwise furnished with a baduk board, Won Tae-gam had to go to Gyeongchun Palace and back for him.
It had to be with you.
Before long, a baduk board was placed between the two. And as always when they played baduk, he was yielded the black stones.
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