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If lady Noh was surprised to see the princess standing at her own threshold dressed as a peasant boy, her ancient face makes no note of it. Being the head court lady of the Moon Pavilion for a queen who has not spent a day living by the protocol has made her quite tolerant to occasional etiquette shocks.

She is, however, rather apt at making her judgment apparent without a word. Lady Noh drags her eyes from Seol's hair - bound rather sloppily into a top knot, to her feet - clad in rough, woven shoes - purses her lips. Behind his sister Yong flinches.

"Ah well -" he says, touching the back of his head. "Umm - I have a meeting scheduled with the west wing councilors about - I won't bore you with details - let me take leave." He leaves faster than Seol would have believed possible. She watches him go rather furiously, mumbling a mute "traitor," under her breath.

"Wanghu mama wants to have tea together," Lady Noh informs briskly. "This way - princess."

"Umm - lady Noh I don't think -"

Lady Noh arches her brow and two among her flock of underlings come to seize Seol by the arms.

"No. I don't think you do," the lady bites out her tone falling as close to sarcasm as politely possible. "Think - I mean. Intellectual thought seems quite beyond your capabilities."

"Lady Noh!"

"Quite right. A bath with thorough scrubbing. Suitable - human clothing. And some combing would do." The older lady speaks as if Seol had said nothing. "Only the heavens know how you conduct yourself at Shinju. Poor lady Ji must be out of her wits trying to keep you from scaring the retainers mama." She waves her hands. "What are you waiting for?" She snaps at her aids. "Get on with it!"

They do. Get on with it. As if Seol is nothing but a doll entrusted to experiment their grooming skills on, the ladies scrub her until the layer of grimy dust and her day out in the street is gone with the grayish dirty water in the tub. They bring out oils scented with soft crushed flowers and rub her new raw skin with them and dress her in rustling, creaseless silk - blowing starched sleeves and delicately embroidered outer robes.

Her hair is wiped and dried, combed and lightly oiled. Then braided with threads of fine silver. From her mirror the peasant boy is gone. In his place stands the first princess of Goryeo, in all her youthful glory - dressed in spotless white worked with delicate threads of lavender and purple.

It's me - I should mean nothing to you.

The words occur to her without a rhyme or reason and Seol hates that particular refined reflection of hers which had reminded her of those words.

"Enough," she says, when the ladies open up boxes of makeup next. "For heaven's sake - it's tea with my mother! Not some state banquet!" Brushing her sleeves, she turns away resolutely. "I will not be delayed."

She sets a quick pace, confidently marching out towards the spring pavilion. The main purpose of the place had been receiving and entertaining imperial guests and had become over generations a place where titled women from the royal family retreated to unwind.

"Your highness," one of the ladies calls after her, rather anxiously. "Do not run!"

"Mama!"

"I don't know what makes you so worried -" Seol tells them over her shoulder, skipping over the wooden steps that climbed towards the lotus chamber of the spring pavilion. She held her skirts off the ground to keep them from tangling with her feet. "It's my -" the doors of the lotus chamber open at the sound of her voice and Seol forgets what she had been telling. "-imperial father."

Indeed it's not the queen who sits at the helm of the lotus chamber, but the emperor, his face an impassive courtly mask. Beside him giving no indication that he had been drinking with soldiers not so long back is Seo. He was no longer wearing the military blacks and silvers, but the court robes of dark blue. Biting her lower lip Seol lets her skirts drop properly, before bowing to her father.

"Imperial father," she says, raising her head and giving Seo simply a polite acknowledgement. "Lord Kang."

Seo stands up.

"Mama."

Seol takes over from the court lady hovering with the tea service.

"I shall serve," she offers, casting a sideways look at Seo. "Please sit my lord, you've had a long journey back."

Instead of watching him return to his place, Seol busies herself with the brewing. It is strangely soothing to watch dried flowers unfurling at the bottom of teacups when boiling water touches them. She folds her sleeve gracefully as she pours the tea, tilting the pot just so and the emperor watches with softening eyes.

"How I missed having tea from your hand," he tells her, accepting the cup she offers. "You must not indulge me so, or letting you go away would be so difficult."

Seol looks up at him. Her father had the most endearing face in the world. Sharp lines of his features had softened with years, each laugh marked sharply at the corners of his mouth and crinkling eyes. Yet years had not yet caught up with him, his shoulders were broad, his skin pale and unblemished. Seol watches him and thinks how much she had missed these quiet moments with him - where he was not the son of heavens but just her father and she was not the imperial princess but just a daughter.

Seo cleared his throat.

"Allow this official to withdraw Pyeha."

"Sit." Both Seol and the emperor speak simultaneously without even looking at him. Seo who had half risen sits back down, his cheeks reddening.

"You don't have to, lord father," Seol tells him earnestly. "I don't wish to go."

The emperor smiles softly, reaching out to pick her hand he brushes a thumb across the back of her palm.

"You have your mother's hands," he observes offhandedly. "Small, delicate - easily broken."

Her throat tightens. Seol blinks back the moisture that threatens to spill from her eyes.

You mean too much to too many people. His words haunt her again, Seol looks surreptitiously at Seo and wishes if she could erase those words from her memory. She blinks again and squares her jaw.

"I don't wish to go," she repeats. "Appa." The emperor's grip on her hand tightens reflectively. Seol did not often call him so familiarly. With them always living in the scrutiny of the court it was impossible - but when her heart was aching, when she wanted to be held and comforted - the address would slip by. "I don't think Shinju wants me. It is not home - no matter how many years I've spent. I want to be home. I - I don't wish to go."

"Forgive me Pyeha," it is Seo who speaks. "If I have ever made her highness feel unwanted at Shinju. It has to be a shortcoming on my part which I am thoroughly ashamed of -"

"No!" Seol says quickly. "Lord Kang has been the most generous and understanding guardian. I didn't mean to discredit his merit at what he does. I only meant to -" she swallows. "I only mean to stop burdening you with my presence."

The words are bitter in her mouth, trembling, scattered and strung together merely because of how hurt she had been. Seol feels weary, worn off by people telling her at each step how things she yearned for were just beyond her reach.

"I respect your wishes mama. It is only true in that case that I have failed to make you feel at home in your own lands."

"My - lands?"

It is the emperor who answers.

"Estates of Shinju belong to you," he says. "Lord Kang is merely managing them on your behalf - teaching you the ropes - until such time when you can take full control of your fortune and dowry."

Seol feels the sting of those words. Hers, until such time she was to hand them over to a husband. Lands that should have been Seo's had his mother been the principal wife instead of a concubine of the former Lord of North, were denied to him - and laddled to some entitled man who would simply scoop up her titles and property by marriage. Her temper bubbles and she has to will it down. Her eyes dart to Seo once more, he is looking down - staring into his teacup instead. His fists are clenched, shoulders hunched. He looks so defeated over something she had simply uttered out of spite that she feels like embracing him.

This foolish man, who could have had everything he deserved - everything that would have been his if not for his father's questionable life decisions - still refused to reclaim them through her. Even when she was offering the opportunity with all her heart.

"When are we returning?" She asks instead.

To hell with Yong and his advice, Seo and his misplaced sense of worthiness - she thinks hotly. Then catches her father's eye. Something about his gaze makes her cheeks color, Seol drops her gaze, wishing suddenly for her father to not read her so soften or so easily.

"After the festival," the emperor replies. "It is a time for families to be together. Kang Seo, I wish to see you there as well."

"As you command Pyeha," Seo bows and the emperor turns to his daughter, his eyes twinkling.

"Now - what is this I hear about your latest stroll?" His eyes twinkle although his lips are pursed. Seo looks away, not meeting her eye. Seol mumbles a "traitor" under her breath before turning to her father.

"I wanted to observe the ways of Songak," she says without missing a beat.

"Oh - and have you?" The emperor arches a brow. "I can't remember the last time I've observed the ways of Songak."

"Imperial father," she says slowly, weighing the words in her heart. The opportunity has presented it strangely and Seol is still prickling with fury over the injustice of it all. "Will you grant me permission - I wish to propose a law to be drafted."

"A law?" The emperor is intrigued. "What sort of a law?"

"A law which allows married women to retain their property, dispose of it as they see fit, to whom they desire without the requirement of a husband's sanction," she pours more tea into his cup, the very embodiment of feminine grace. "I want to stop men getting rich just by landing wealthy wives."

**