2 - Return to Suneo (3)

The festivities were in full swing. Servants circulated among the guests, handing around glasses of wine and various snacks. People danced to music from a small group of musicians stationed in one corner. Tables were covered with delicious-smelling dishes, along with a variety of different cheeses, fruits, breads, meats, cakes, and desserts. All in all, it was divine. For the past week, Serin had worked tirelessly preparing for this event, putting together every detail, from the clothes on the backs of the servers to the cutlery in the hands of their guests, from each course to the food that was served. Even now, she found it hard to relax and enjoy the celebration. She kept thinking of the man with his sad eyes who seemed lost in the midst of an endless sea of faces. Was he waiting for someone? 

Serin sighed and rubbed her temples. The feast was finally starting. The first course of the evening had arrived, a variety of hors d'ouevres that were perfectly bite-sized and plated. Deviled ham canapés, eggs stuffed with herbs and mustard, and an assortment of pickles and olives accompanied everything else. She sat in her seat, next to her father, sipping on her drink as she watched the nobles, knights and ladies alike chat around the table. They laughed heartily, their conversation flowing freely, filling the dining hall with the sound of merriment. When she glanced at her father, she noticed that he was deep in conversation with the Lord of Windhelm. She smiled, leaning in closer so she could hear their words better.

"...And the new stable master seems quite nice," Lord Viggo of Windhelm chuckled, lifting his glass of wine, "He is rather quiet, however, so I am not overly concerned for his performance," he continued, chuckling as he placed his glass back on the table. 

Her father laughed lightly at Lord Viggo's statement. "Yes, well," he said, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that the thoughtful ones perform the best. I could never be so quiet— you and I, Lord Viggo, are of the vocal sort."

Lord Viggo snickered. "Oh, yes. I can attest to that. You always did love your loudmouth remarks."

A man a few seats away— Sir Sandor, one of the senior Knights, if Serin remembered correctly— cleared his throat loudly, causing them to stop and turn to him. He raised his cup of wine. "A toast!" he called, "to his Grace, to the Knights, to King Aric, to Gyeowon, and to Suneo's future prosperity!" 

Everyone joined their voices together. "To Suneo!"

The room cheered. Serin clinked her glass with the rest of the company and drank some of her red wine. She wiped her mouth and let out a content hum. The conversation turned from general chatter to more private matters, reserved for the men at the Duke's table. 

"The Crimson Band were involved in the war effort, were they not? I have heard that the leader of the Crimson Band was killed in the war. Are they still active?" Lord Viggo asked her father, turning to him with interest.

"I'm not sure," her father replied, taking another sip of his wine. "Last I heard of the other members, they were returning to Oromis. We separated from them on our return to the castle."

Lord Viggo sighed. "That's a shame. I wanted to offer some work." 

"Well," her father began, "you may still have your chance. A Crimson tagged along with us," he said, motioning to a solitary-looking Knight, who was sitting near the middle of the table on the side and drinking quietly. "His name is Joon. Terribly effective fellow, although he's not a man of many words."

Serin choked slightly on her sip of red wine, caught off-guard when her eyes had absentmindedly wandered to a familiar shade of jet-black hair. She coughed for a moment before she took another sip. Her face burned hot. The man wore a simple white tunic tucked into black trousers with brown boots and gloves, and a golden necklace with a pendant hung loosely around his neck. Dark, silky bangs fell over his eyes as he rested his chin on the palm of his right hand. He sat stiffly with his legs crossed, seemingly uninterested in the conversation that was going on next to him. 

"I'd have thought he was one of your knights, what with that getup," Lord Viggo continued. "Has he taken up the Oath?"

Her father sighed, grabbing his fork and cutting at the main course of tantalizing roast beef with gravy. "I wouldn't be lying if I said I hoped he would. He's a good soldier. I think he would make a fine Knight."

The man— Joon— stood up from the table, making his way for the door. Now was her chance!

Serin stood hastily, excusing herself with a quiet bow. Her father nodded as she elegantly strode over to catch up with him outside. Once he had walked down the stairs and passed by a couple that was walking past her, she reached out and tapped his arm lightly.

He spun around, grabbing her arm and pulling her close to him, although she couldn't tell if he was surprised or not from his impassive face. He looked down at her with tired dark eyes. He suddenly seemed very tall, and Serin froze. The warmth of his hand burned against her arm. His forearm was covered in pink scars, catching the light.

This was a mistake. She didn't need to bother him over this, she could send Eunji over with the ring before he left. And then she wouldn't have to talk to a complete stranger in the first place. But then again, if she didn't say something now, she knew she probably wouldn't ever have another opportunity to speak to him again. Besides, it couldn't hurt to take another look at those stunning eyes again. She stuck her free hand in her pocket, searching for the ring. 

"Hah," she quietly exclaimed when she'd found it. She looked back to the man. "I-I, I've b-been meaning t-to," she began, her body turning to ice as his hand burned even hotter against her skin, "t-to give this, this..." she stammered weakly. It felt like there was a rock sitting heavily in the pit of her stomach. He waited for her to finish. His eyes glinted with something— annoyance? Serin squeezed her eyes shut. "But I've f—" her voice caught in her throat, her fingers fumbling to remove the ring from her pocket. She swallowed nervously and held it out to him in a fist. "Here, sir. Take it." Her voice came out barely above a whisper.

She tried to peek through her eyelashes, hoping that he wasn't angry with her. He stared at her hand. He was still gently holding her with his left hand, but he softly took her free hand and pressed it to his lips. His kiss lingered on her knuckles for a little while before he slowly retracted his grip on her wrist, and the ring disappeared into his hands. He lifted his head.

"Thank you," he murmured, his gaze locking onto hers as the two of them stood in silence, staring at each other, Then, just like that, he turned, and walked away. 

Heat rose in her cheeks and her breathing became uneven. All too soon he disappeared around the corner, leaving behind nothing but silence.

As Joon left, a small smile cracked at the corner of his mouth. How adorable. Perhaps he would stay in Suneo, after all.