Seo leaves her baffled, Seol is uncertain if she preferred the confusion to the absolutely bitter envy she had felt earlier. Min Ha fusses with her starched collar, straightening its lines, folding the corners. Seol focuses on her reflection instead, going through that conversation and her summary dismissal instead.
"But she is not what you are to me…"
He had said it as if it was an undeniable truth, or a confession he had not meant to make.
"What am I then?" She wonders aloud. Min Ha looks at her ridiculously.
"Why mama? You are the imperial princess!"
She steps around to fix her hair into its half updo and picks up an eagle embossed pin to secure the elaborate twist she had made.
"Not that –" Seol stops her, shuffling through the collection of dazzling hair ornaments in the chest – she picks up a silver one instead, fashioned into a cluster of butterflies dotted with twinkling blue stones. "This."
Min Ha frowns.
"It doesn't suit your robes, mama," she protests mildly. "The red embroidery and blue stones don't go well at all!"
"Then change the robes," Seol waves away the concern. "I shall wear the new one we finished at the palace. The blue and silver one." If possible, Min Ha's frown deepens. "Is there a problem Lady Min?"
"No, Mama," but of cause her tone doesn't match the words she utters. "If you rather go into a feast held in your honor dressed like a lady from Kang compound instead of the imperial princess – what problem can this lowly servant raise?"
Seol preens, as if that had exactly been her intention.
"If the queen can still wear their blues – why can't I? Those estates are mine." She brushes off the skirts of her middle robes. "Bring the blue ones. Let's see if I suit the image of the lady of the north."
Min Ha mumbles a few more choice words to herself and complies, bringing out the robes that Seol had finished with the help of her other ladies. The fine blue silk is worked in silver threads, into the same cluster of butterflies taking flight over a dandelion field edging its hems. Escaped lone butterflies scatter all over the skirt and climbs into the bodice, resting on ivy patterns that circle the neckline. Seol smooths a hand over her neckline and inhales at the beauty of it.
"Perfect!"
"People are going to talk, mama," Min Ha remarks disapprovingly.
"People have been talking since times ancient Min Ha," Seol tells her calmly. "It's a human ability to talk and very unlikely that they would stop anytime soon."
Min Ha throws her hands in the air.
"If you are so determined mama, there is hardly anything I can do to stop you!" She says finally. "Shall we go downstairs if it pleases your highness? It is high time that we join the gathering."
"Of cause," Seol says daintily taking pleasure at having won the argument against Min Ha. "You may write to and complain my lady mother all you want after we return."
"How generous of you!" Min Ha bows mockingly before falling into steps behind her.
Seol pauses at the last few steps scanning the feasting inn for a moment, searching for Seo. Seo who had seen her the moment she appeared wishes she does not find him. It is a wish in the wind, for the very moment those starless dark eyes find and rest upon his. The jolt of seeing her wearing his colors could not be timely concealed.
Silver of his eyes, bleeds into night, turning fractionally darker. Her blood warms in reaction and warmth slides down her spine. Seol gulps for the first time starting to grasp the kind of power she had over Seo, had she chosen to pull at the strings. Her mouth parts in a silent sigh. Seo blinks and turns away, abruptly – picking a glass of wine from passing Nari's hands. The two of them share a smile that makes Seol burn. Biting her lip over a retort that she would hand him in private, Seol climbed down the rest of the stairs, only to be swept into conversation with the Qhitan envoy.
Over the old man's shoulder, she spares a glance at Seo's turned back.
Fine, she thinks. Let us see how long you can play at that game.
She smiles at Envoy Li, allowing the man to lead her to an assembly of his own.
"Tell me ambassador," she says, raising her voice slightly. "How impressive your stay in this nation has been so far…"
The man is rather talkative and needs only the slightest of pushes to start waxing poetically about the wonders he'd seen during his travels. Of how Goreyo was yet to caprice him in that manner. Seol listens, not entirely invested in the man's monologue but remembering to nod, smile and exclaim at the right moments.
Conducting a conversation is an art. As a princess, ladies of her mother's company had drilled her to manage conversations which did not hold an iota of her interest. Seol let the envoy think he had captured her absolute fancy and allowed her true attention to wander instead – back to its natural destination.
Seo is watching them, his jaw set in a rigid line of displeasure. He tilts his chin in a very Kang way that she had seen her lady mother do at times when the twins are up to something particularly nasty, watching with mute judgment over the rim of his goblet. His stormy eyes flash in a flicker of firelight. Others may believe him a saint but Seol was learning that it is quite easy to ruffle Kang Seo's feathers.
Seol squares her shoulders and firmly turns her back towards him, smiling ever so pleasantly at the envoy who is now telling her of wonders in Khitan. Oh, she reads the calculating gleam in the man's eyes, his smile is covetous enough. It will cost him his head if her imperial father is to hear of any mechanism to get her married to Khitan...but the danger to his life is perhaps much more imminent.
"And the city my lady -!" Gushes the man, moving to clasp her hand in both of his in palpable excitement. "You may yet to see such glorious..."
She sees him move in her peripheral vision a blur of darkest blues against the firelight. It takes effort to turn back to the envoy, half the man's words never entering her ear.
"The ladies wear gemstones size of eggs against their throats -"
"She's betrothed." His shadow casts over her and she could feel the heat of his palm on her shoulder. "His majesty wouldn't be pleased to learn of this conversation - gongjunim," he addresses her. His voice at its polite best gives away a hint of frustration. She may outrank him, but when there's that edge to Kang Seo's voice Seol knows better than to push her luck.
But then again, wasn't that the theme of this evening; pushing at the limits of luck and fate.
"Well," she sighs dramatically. "You see Master Li, I am soon to part with these valleys and hills. The wonders of Khitan are not for me."
"Withdraw Gongjunim," his fingers clasp around her upper arm and his voice sharpens. "Forgive us, master Li -"
He all but drags her away from the center of festivities. In the shadowy corner where his stormy eyes are the only thing that sparkles Seol finds herself pressed to the wall and stared down.
"Have you lost your senses - princess?"
"Have I?" She raises an eyebrow in a fair imitation of her father. There's a tingling thrill in watching those furious eyes take her face, concerned even when his temper is in tatters. His exhale ripples over her.
"What is it that you want?" His voice is low, devoid of honorific and decorum. "What are you doing right now?"
"He is just an envoy - a mere messenger," she says instead. "My betrothed is a prince. Whatever you will if he was here?"
Raw torment stark in his eyes makes her gulp yet she pushes on. "If it's thousand miles away in Khitan or hundred miles away in Silla, nations apart or across the nation - truth is you can't bear to see me with another."
He closes his eyes, breathing hard, fingers curling into fists.
"Truth is -"
He turns away so abruptly, so crudely that the void he leaves behind seems to drown her.
Truth is you love me.
**