Archive of Our Own ^beta

from nothing,

the spring of love started to overflow

into our hearts

This summer is unusually hot. With how harsh the past winter had been, Jaehyun was not surprised that the summer was as blistering as it is. The sun had risen in the too-early hours of the morning like clockwork, and did not set until the clock hands had moved well into the night. This had also meant that their little inn was open for longer hours than it had been for the past few months.

“It is better to have more customers,” Jaehyun’s aunt, Jieun, had said when the summer first started a few weeks ago. “After all, the barley harvests are coming soon, and the gods have been kind enough so that we have more than enough produce to feed everyone. We should be thankful for the long hours of the summer.”

She is not wrong, Jaehyun muses as he watches over the boiling soup in the pot. The little kitchen is as usual filled with steam and the smells of food, despite that the window had been thrown open. A futile attempt at letting wind through, for there was no breeze to be seen today, and his hair was sticking to the back of his neck uncomfortably.

“Oraboni, do we still have dubu jochi?” Yunkyoung asks, coming around the corner into the kitchen. She brings with her the smells of flowers and summer humidity; at once, Jaehyun knows that his cousin has been out picking flowers to place in the rooms.

“There should still be some in the pot over there,” Jaehyun hums, bending down to check the fires underneath the stove.

“We need more,” Yunkyoung says, dishing out the remainders of the stew into a few bowls. “Some Palace messengers have stopped by here to eat, and they bring word that more will stop by soon.”

“What good luck is it that we are the only inn between our village and to the Palaces if one is to travel all day?” Jaehyun jests, and directs a small smile towards Yunkyoung. “It is alright. If more messengers are to stop by, there will be enough food. I have doenjang jochi over there — and here, have some guk for the messengers. They will have as much as they need as long as they have coin to pay for it.”

“I am certain that we have so many messengers stop by here for another reason as well,” Yunkyoung says, laughing a little as she sets the bowls onto a wooden tray. “You cook so well, oraboni, it is why we have done so well for these years.” She takes the soup that Jaehyun passes her then leaves the kitchen, and Jaehyun is left with the sounds of boiling foods and the smell of steam again.

Once again, he follows the familiar routine; he dips the spoon into the soup and swirls it around, tasting it as he goes. Then, more ingredients — soybean paste, cabbage, squash — goes into the other stew, and it bubbles away merrily. He is almost alone in this little kitchen that has come to be where he spends most of his time, and he can hear the chatter of conversation floating in from the main hall.

He often thinks about what he can do with his life, and now, as he watches the food, these thoughts come back to him. It has been years since he started working in the inn, and when he was younger he used to clean the rooms and sometimes wait on the tables. As he grew up and started to take an interest in food, he had gradually come to be responsible for the food that the inn had.

While this had helped him find a permanent place in the family inn and he no longer felt so out of place, it had not really helped his inner turmoil. He was not particularly good at fighting, nor was the best at books; if he were, he could try to pass the exams and become yangban, but alas, he could not. These thoughts had come to clog his chest over the years, and despite the constant reassurances from his aunt, it had somehow lodged into his head that he was a burden to them, especially to his aunt.

“You are thinking too much again,” Yunkyoung says, walking into the kitchen with a tray full of empty bowls. “I can see it in the lines of your forehead. If you frown any longer like that, it will be impossible for you to marry anyone.”

“Yunkyoung,” Jaehyun starts, getting more rice for her, “I am already twenty-two. I think this will be where I spend my life.”

Yunkyoung rolls her eyes and steps out again. “Keep your heart open, oraboni!” She yells as a parting word, and Jaehyun shakes his head. He knows that Yunkyoung has been exchanging correspondence with the daughter of the yangban family near their village, and his aunt is encouraging her. He supposes that it will not be too bad if Yunkyoung does marry into that family; it would lessen the burden on Jieun, and their life would become easier.

And yet, his future is as murky as ever. Jaehyun pushes those thoughts to the back of his head for a moment; he has more to do in the daylight hours, and he must not be distracted. For now, he cooks and cleans and darts out the kitchen occasionally to help Yunkyoung with serving, and even with how long the summer days are, evening comes fast. Soon, most of their customers have either had their fill and left, or gone up to their rooms for a rest, and all that is left to do is clean the inn while some stragglers mull around.

“Where is Jieun-gomo?” Jaehyun asks as he steps out of the kitchen to find Yunkyoung sweeping.

“Mother is upstairs, folding laundry,” Yunkyoung replies, and gives a little yawn. “Shall we have our meals before cleaning up?”

Yunkyoung goes into the kitchen to get some food for themselves while Jaehyun cleans a tray and rummages around for eating utensils. Separate bowls of guk, doenjang jochi, and vegetables are set down on the tray, and Jeongin takes another bowl of rice before leaving the kitchen again.

“I will bring this to here and come down to eat,” Jaehyun says, picking the tray up.

Yunkyoung nods, already turning back to get more food, so Jaehyun goes up the small staircase that leads to their rooms, separate from the guest rooms. He finds his aunt putting away clean sheets into the cupboard, and he sets the tray of food down on the table.

“The food is ready, Jieun-goma,” Jaehyun says, smiling at her.

“Thank you,” Jieun says, and her words are thankful but tired. “Do you and Yunkyoung have anything to eat?”

“We do, but we will eat downstairs. You can eat and go to rest — I will clean up downstairs,” Jaehyun says, stepping back as his aunt sits down at the table, tucking her legs under herself. “Have a rest, goma. It has been a long day for you with the messengers stopping by this afternoon.” He leaves his aunt to rest in their rooms, and makes his way down the stairs back into the main hall of the inn.

“How is she?” Yunkyoung asks, looking up from where she has set their trays of food down on a clean table.

“Not as fussed as she was in the afternoon,” Jaehyun replies, sitting down with her. “Thank you for the food.”

“Thank you for the food,” Yunkyoung repeats after him, and they start to eat.

The soup is a little too bland, as expected because Jaehyun had added water to it so that it would last into the evening. The stew is fine, but a little lukewarm since they had waited a while to eat. The vegetables could do with more seasonings, but he thinks they pass for better than nothing. But perhaps he is being a little critical of himself —

“Your food is always so good,” Yunkyoung says, sighing. “We are lucky to have you…”

Jaehyun smiles at her and murmurs a quiet thank you. They finish the dinner in peaceful silence after a long day of work, and by the time they finish their meals, Yunkyoung looks bleary from exhaustion.

Worry tugs at his heart, and Jaehyun stands up, picking up their trays. “Have you finished cleaning the tables? You can go up if you have — there is only these dishes to wash and the kitchen will not take long to clear.”

“Are you sure?” Yunkyoung asks, following him into the kitchen to deposit a few dirty dishcloths onto the counter. “There is still quite a bit to do…”

Jaehyun gently pushes her out of the kitchen and towards the stairs up to their rooms. “It is alright. As I said — it will not take long, and you have been working since the early morning. Besides, go and have a look at your desk, I think something had arrived for you today.”

At that, Yunkyoung lets out a little gasp and makes her way up the stairs, not before calling out a faint thank you to Jaehyun as she disappears up into her room. Jaehyun only laughs a little at his cousin before returning to the dishes he has to wash. Most of the dishes have already been done, so he sets about packing up some of the leftovers instead. As usual, there is leftover rice, this time with some stew and vegetables. It is rare that they have any side dishes leftover, but he supposes the summer has been kind to them this time. Still, he thinks he will only be truly secure in their food stocks when the autumn arrives and barley will be harvested in abundance.

The leftovers are stacked up neatly, and he makes quick work of the remaining dishes, cleaning them and setting them to dry. The counter is wiped down quickly, and he blows out the candles that light up the kitchen. He extinguishes the fire in the stove and makes his way out into the main hall; it is quiet.

Everyone has left already, and so Jaehyun thinks it will be a good time to close up. The clock is not quite nine yet, but he does not think anyone would be showing up this late. He is just about ready to leave only the lanterns burning overnight when there comes a few gentle knocks at their front door.

Perhaps not quite time to shut up yet, then.

It is always the latecomers that Jaehyun finds make the most interesting customers — and when he swings the door open this time, he is not wrong.

On the doorstep stands a man clad in ragged robes and a hood over his face, and it looks like he has come a long way with how unkempt he is. He brings with him the smell of the earth and the summer night with him, and despite the roughness of his appearance, he bestows a small smile on Jaehyun.

“I apologise for intruding so late at night,” The stranger murmurs, and his voice is unexpectedly smooth, “but would you happen to have food, and a room to stay in?”

Jaehyun nods, and steps aside to let him in. “Have a seat,” He says, gesturing at the tables, “and I will bring you some food.” He does not let himself watch the stranger any longer, but instead disappears into the kitchen to retrieve the leftovers. Choosing not to think about why he paid so much attention to the stranger’s voice and its smoothness, he tips the leftovers into a bowl and brings it all out.

“I am afraid the food is slightly cold,” Jaehyun says, setting the food down in front of the stranger.

“I suspect it is my fault for arriving so late,” The stranger says, smiling again. “Thank you for the food.”

Jaehyun makes a small noise of acceptance — then he is faced with the decision of what to do. Should he retreat into the kitchen as he always does? But the kitchen lights are extinguished, and he would look a fool for going in. Should he go upstairs then? But he has to lock up the front door and be ready to take away the dishes once the man is done with it. These thoughts rush through his head — but his decision is made for him.

“Would it be even more impudent of me to ask for you to join me?” The man asks. “I do so long for company, if you are willing to indulge me. I have made a long journey alone.”

Jaehyun breathes out a little, relieved. “I shall be your company for this night, then.”

“I will not take up too much time. Thank you for the food,” The stranger says, closing his eyes briefly, then picks up his chopsticks. There is something about the way he holds the utensils that makes Jaehyun think of elegance, but that is pushed out of his mind when the stranger swallows his first mouthful of food to talk.

“Did you make all of this?”

“I did.”

“It is incredible. Even if it is cold, it is… warm. It feels like I have returned home to eat.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun murmurs, and despite having received numerous compliments about his cooking, no one has described his food quite like this. “Thank you. I am glad you enjoy it.”

“You learned this from someone?”

“Only my goma, and by practice.”

“You could do well,” The stranger says, and Jaehyun looks up at him, slightly confused. “I mean that you could go further and practice your skills, perhaps even work outside your village. I think you have the skill for it.”

Jaehyun laughs good-naturedly, but does not stop to consider it. “I dare not. My family needs me here, and unless I am offered some guaranteed chance, I would not leave my home.”

The stranger hums at that. “You are quite the practical one, no? Well — I am done here, and I would trouble you that little bit more to have a room for me. Here is the coin for the room, the food, and the trouble I have caused you so late at night.”

Jaehyun nods and leads the man upstairs into an empty guest room, and shows him where he might get water for a wash. After ensuring the man had nothing else he needed, he goes back downstairs and locks the front door first.

He is certainly interesting, Jaehyun thinks to himself as he gathers the dirty dishes and goes back into the kitchen. He lights just one lantern and begins cleaning the dishes; the gentle sounds of rushing water in the darkening night accompanies his thoughts, most of which revolve around the man.

Who was this man, and where was he from? He could not get a good look at the man or the clothes he wore because of how dark it was, but he guesses that the man is at least from the chungin. The way he spoke, and the way he held himself, as well as how he ate — it all made Jaehyun think he was learned.

Shaking these thoughts out of his mind, he puts the cleaned dishes away and blows out the lanterns again. This time, he goes up to his room unbothered, and he very quickly forgets about the stranger with the good mannerisms and the smooth voice.

He dreams of fires in the skies.

Jaehyun wakes early, as he always does in the summer. The heat is sweltering and he splashes cold water onto his face in an attempt to cool down. As he dresses, he goes through the list of things he needs to complete today. Apart from the usual chores of opening up the inn and starting the meals, he has to collect produce from the merchants today, and will have to help Yunkyoung with the laundry. It looks to be a busy day — but he does not expect to see a customer up early before he is.

“Oh,” Jaehyun says, recognising the customer. It was the man he had sat with at dinner last night, and realises belatedly that he did not know the man’s name. “Good morning. I will start breakfast soon, if you would wait a while.”

“I did not want breakfast,” The man says, coming closer to Jaehyun. “I merely wanted to tell you that your food is delicious. I could not remember if I complimented you on your food because of my fatigue, so I thought it best to come and tell you.”

“Oh! Thank you,” Jaehyun says, a little flustered. “I — you did, and you are welcome. I am glad you enjoyed the food.”

The man smiles again. “It also seems I had forgotten my manners. My name is Kim Jibeom, and it is pleasure to meet you.” He bows then, and his cloak slips off his shoulders as he does so — and Jaehyun’s eyes are drawn towards the dark grey linen revealed under the cloak.

In one instance, he recognises the robes.

“You – you are from the Palaces,” Jaehyun says, paling, and he scrambles to bow to Jibeom. “I – I did not know, please forgive me —”

“I would not have a host bow to me in their own house,” Jibeom murmurs, and he touches Jaehyun’s shoulder gently. “Besides, I am merely a manservant, not yangban nor royalty. Would you tell me your name?”

Hesitantly, Jaehyun rises up and looks at the man — Jibeom. “My name is Jaehyun.”

Jibeom lets go of his shoulders and takes a step back. “I hope I have not made you feel uncomfortable, and if I have, I apologise. I shall retire to my room at once, Jaehyun-ssi.” He inclines his head again, and turns around to go back up the main staircase, but Jaehyun speaks out before he can help himself.

“Ah! No – no you did not,” Jaehyun starts, then struggles to find the right words as Jibeom stops and turns back to look at him, something like surprise etched in his brows. “I meant that you did not make me uncomfortable,” He clarifies, not sure where his eyes should land on Jibeom’s face. “I was only surprised that you were from the Palaces… you – you did not seem like so last night.”

Jibeom laughs a little at that, and even his laughter is smooth. “You must forgive me for my appearance last night. I thought it best not to dirty finer robes when travelling long distances, and it had been a while since I last availed myself to water for a wash.”

Not sure what else to say, especially when he caught himself looking at Jibeom’s mouth, Jaehyun excuses himself, saying that he needs to start breakfast. Jibeom only nods, bidding him goodbye with a smile that Jaehyun thinks can be called soft.

Why would he smile at me like that? Jaehyun wonders to himself as he starts boiling the water for congee. He starts bringing out the other ingredients, and he is halfway through chopping the cabbage when the thought occurs to him — that Jibeom is handsome.

He can feel his face reddening almost immediately at that realisation, and he refocuses his attention onto cutting the vegetables. In an attempt to distract himself, he starts cracking some eggs to make gyeranjuk, but his thoughts eventually wander back to Jibeom.

Just last night, he had been chatting with him, a stranger, without knowing that he was from the Palaces. Jibeom had been more than cordial, even nice, to him, and he had woken early just to tell him that his food was good. Between the bedraggled stranger that showed up at the inn door in the night and this man dressed in fine grey robes and bright eyes, Jaehyun wonders how long it has been since he felt this way.

It is just a fleeting feeling, Jaehyun tells himself firmly as he spoons rice into the boiling water. You are only surprised that he is from the Palaces. He will soon leave for Hanseong and you will never see him again, and you will ever be more the fool if you harbour these feelings.

That logic does not stop him from fussing over breakfast a bit more than he usually would.

“Mandu?” Yunkyoung asks, a little surprised. “You usually do not make it because you say it is a lot of work…”

“I woke up earlier today,” Jaehyun says. “Take it out and serve it to the customers, Yunkyoung. It will become cold if it stays there for any longer.”

Yunkyoung picks up plates of mandu and loads it onto her tray, but not without a mischievous smile on her face. Jaehyun does not quite have time to pay attention to whatever antics Yunkyoung is once again up to; he has another batch of mandu to steam and gyerankjuk to look after.

Therefore, when Yunkyoung comes in to take more food and tells him that a customer wants to see him, he does not quite think those words through.

“Is there something wrong with the food?” Jaehyun asks, brows furrowing.

“No,” Yunkyoung says, studiously avoiding his eyes. “You should go and see, oraboni. He is sitting by the door.”

Abruptly plagued by worries that something is amiss with the food, Jaehyun hurries out into the main hall, rapidly approaching the table near the door — and comes to an abrupt halt when he realises that it is Jibeom.

“Jaehyun-ssi!” Jibeom says, looking up to greet him.

“I – my sister said you wanted to talk to me?” Jaehyun says, forgetting to greet Jibeom in his flustered state. Somehow, being around Jibeom makes him feel a little nervous; he cannot for the life of him understand why, since he has never felt this way before. His heart flips in his chest when Jibeom smiles at him and gestures for him to sit down as well.

“Oh, I only wanted to see you again,” Jibeom says. There is nothing to hide in the way he speaks, and it feels as though he has drawn an arm out to Jaehyun, bidding him to stay. “I must say this again — your food is excellent.”

“You have not begun to eat,” Jaehyun protests, not sure where to look at Jibeom once again. “How could you possibly be so sure of what you have said?”

“You have made even cold food taste wonderful, and so I am sure that with hot food, it will be a most excellent meal,” Jibeom says, and every word of his only spells out confidence.

“Then… I hope you enjoy it,” Jaehyun says. “I must return to keeping the kitchen.” He leaves then with a smile on his mouth, and wishes that he placed less weight and hope on those words.

“I am sure I will,” Jibeom replies, and his words are sweet.

But as it turns out, Jaehyun need not have spent his time fretting about Jibeom’s opinion. When he is done with breakfast and steps out to take a breather, Jibeom immediately steps into his line of sight. Before he can even gauge what is happening, Jibeom has already opened his mouth.

“This might be too forthcoming,” Jibeom starts in lieu of a greeting, looking at Jaehyun, “but I would like to offer you a place to work in the Palaces.”

Jaehyun blinks. Allows a moment to pass. “Could you repeat that, please?”

“I would like to offer you a place to work in the Palaces,” Jibeom says, offering a smile. “As you know, I am a manservant, and I work for Hong gun daegam. He has been in need of a cook for a while, and it was one of my tasks to find someone suitable when I left Hanseong. Would you consider accepting my offer?”

“I… what?” Jaehyun says weakly. “You – you want me to work in the Palaces?”

Jibeom nods. “I do. I think your food is excellent, and better than anything I have had in a long while. If you are worried about anything, I can reassure you about it.” He then goes on to name a wage that he will be paid, and that he will be able to visit home on Chuseok and Seollal. “Of course, it means you will have to move to Hanseong. I do not expect you to make a decision immediately, if that eases you slightly.”

There is so much that Jibeom is telling him that his head is a little light. “I… I will have to think about it. And talk to my family as well.”

“I did not seek a reply today,” Jibeom says, and inclines his head. “I will leave you to think about it, Jaehyun-ssi. Do not worry about contacting me, for I will be here until the end of the week, and I shall be making frequent trips here.”

“Then… when do you want an answer by?”

“I can give you until the end of the next month. The most help is needed at Chuseok, and if you are not able to come to the Palaces then I shall have to find a substitute.” Jibeom pauses then, and Jaehyun finds he has unconsciously imitated Jibeom’s pose. “But I hope you do not keep yourself up with worry about this. If it pleases you, then do take it up. I would be delighted to have your company.”

“You are delighted in my company?” Jaehyun murmurs, his arms coming down from the table so he can rest his hands on his lap.

“I think you are a delightful person,” Jibeom replies, and they fall into unawkward silence. Jaehyun stands up a few moments later when Yunkyoung calls for him, but it does not slip his eye that Jibeom also has his hands in his lap. A hot flush burns over his cheeks, and he excuses himself, pretending that the summer heat has gotten to him.

In the days and weeks that follow in this most scorching summer, Jaehyun considers Jibeom’s offer. First, with nothing more than fleeting fantasy, but then with more seriousness once he has relayed the news to Jieun and Yunkyoung. They had both encouraged him to take up the Palace work, even if it meant that they would have to hire someone else as a cook.

“I will give you my pay,” Jaehyun says, before they can insist otherwise. “I will have what I need to live, and the rest is yours. Use it — to keep a cook, and more help, if you need it. I can only hope that it will make our lives easier.” Unconsciously, his decision is made then, for he begins to try new ways to cook with the produce he already has, makes mandu and then mandu-bap with the leftover mandu, makes sok mieum one morning when Yunkyoung brings back chestnut and ginseng, and then fish jochi when they get a new batch of salted shrimp.

It is not until Jibeom comes to visit him for the third week that Jaehyun thinks about his actions; or rather, the gravity of his actions.

“Your food only becomes better with each week that I come,” Jibeom says, jesting a little. “You have such a way with your hands.”

“They are just new dishes,” Jaehyun says, waving it away, then stops to think about why he had been making new dishes lately. Sure, he loved to cook, but in the summer when they had many customers, he never usually tried new dishes because of how tiring and time-consuming it was.

“It is even more impressive then, that these are new dishes,” Jibeom says, blissfully unaware of the turmoil inside Jaehyun’s head. “Would you let me persuade you once again to join the Palaces as a cook?”

“You can certainly try,” Jaehyun says, even though at the back of his head he is already certain that he will accept Jibeom’s offer.

“I think that you are wonderful in your hands, and you make food much more than just what it is. You will be paid handsomely for your work, and your life will be more comfortable… and perhaps you will also find another world that you will come to enjoy.” Jibeom pauses then, sets his chopsticks down to look at Jaehyun properly.

“A world… that I will enjoy?”

“Unless, of course, you are comfortable where you are,” Jibeom adds. “But the Palaces are a whole new world. I have worked there for only a few years, but it is most exhilarating, and I have met some of the best people there.”

A world that he could come to enjoy… Jaehyun is not used to thinking about himself. About what he might like, what he could like, what he wants. He has only been focused on the present, on the inn, on taking care of his small family that had been kind enough to take him in. A small blossom of hope lodges itself in the back of his throat, and it starts to tint his words warmly.

“I will take my leave now,” Jibeom says, standing up. “I have to meet someone, but thank you for the food. I do hope you consider my offer. I – I would very much enjoy your company at the Palaces.”

That is not something Jaehyun was expecting to hear. “You — what?”

“You make good company, Jaehyun-ssi,” Jibeom says simply. His words should not make Jaehyun’s heart flip, but it does. “Until next time then, and take care you do not stay too long outside in the heat.”

“You are the one who travels so often,” Jaehyun says, seeing Jibeom to the door. “Take care, Jibeom-ssi.”

“Ah — but therein lies the difference between me and you,” Jibeom replies, and Jaehyun can hardly parse apart what he means when Jibeom steps out, leaving Jaehyun with nothing more than a smile and the faint scent of earth.

“I almost think that the Palace manservant is trying to court you,” Yunkyoung remarks, once Jaehyun returns to the table to collect the dishes.

“Do not think of such foolish things to be real,” Jaehyun says, quick to stopper her remarks. Why he wants her to not speak of such things, he does not quite know, but it must have something to do with the flip of his heart every time Jibeom comes along to visit.

Jaehyun thinks the gods must be toying with him, for Jibeom’s visits become frequent, expected, and with each time that he visits, he brings sweet praises about Jaehyun’s food with him. As of late however, it seemed that the praises had evolved. First, it is how good he is with making new dishes, then it moves to the brightness of his eyes, and then the shape of his mouth.

It seemed as though Jibeom had forgotten about the purpose of his visits; that he was supposed to be here to convince Jaehyun to start work in the Palaces, not to sit with him for a long hour and have each other’s company. The sweetest hour of my week, Jaehyun is sure he once heard Jibeom murmur. He had not asked why — it did not seem like something he was meant to hear, even if it was about him and it had made his heart do the silly flips that rose heat to his cheeks.

“Jibeom,” Jaehyun says, and now it is the first week of August. “I… I will go to work in the Palaces after the barley is harvested.” It has become easier to look at Jibeom lately, but today the look in Jibeom’s eyes sways him a lot more than it usually does. He steadies his heart and laughs lightly when Jibeom breaks into a smile.

Jibeom looks almost amazed. “So you will come to the Palaces! That is better news than anything else than I have had for a while.”

“Only after the barley harvests,” Jaehyun reminds him. “It will be hard if I am not here and only Jieun-goma and Yunkyoung are here.”

“Of course,” Jibeom says, but he is still smiling. “I will tell the prince about this, and have a room prepared for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You do not need to be worried about meeting the prince, or any of the other servants,” Jibeom says, like he knows Jaehyun’s worries. “The prince is nice, if a little on the foolish side, and the servants have been looking forward to meeting you.”

“You have told them of me?”

“You are difficult not to talk about. Besides, it is a small household. I think you will find it enjoyable.”

The candle flickers near them; Jaehyun thinks he can name this feeling in his chest as hope. There are many things that he still wants to say — that he is thankful for the opportunity, that he also cannot help himself when it comes to Jibeom, that he hopes Jibeom will have a safe journey to wherever he is headed — but he keeps it to himself.

After all, he is only a cook, and Jibeom a manservant. They have bigger things to tend to, and this little thing that they have between them must be put aside for the moment. He is already being selfish enough, Jaehyun thinks, watching Jibeom leave out the inn door once more. Leaving for the Palaces, leaving his village, leaving his family… he shakes his head lightly and returns to the kitchens. He will think of these things when the time is right.

Still, he cannot help but wonder — how many more times will he see Jibeom leave through the inn door alone before the day comes that he will leave with Jibeom.

Jaehyun had promised to leave after the barley harvests. In between his promise to start work in the autumn, and preparing to leave for Hanseong, he barely has time for anything else. Yet somehow, he manages to find time to see Jibeom every week. Perhaps it also because Jibeom kept travelling down to Jeolla-do every week for one reason or the other that allowed them to keep meeting. Yunkyoung does not believe this — “I think he comes down here every week specially to see you,” She had said one night when they were cleaning up together.

“No, he does not,” Jaehyun answers automatically. He refuses to let himself think about what that might mean, if Jibeom was really visiting him on purpose every week even though it took hours to come down from Hanseong.

“I am sure that he comes here expressly to visit you,” Yunkyoung continues, insisting on her belief. “What other purpose could it be that he comes down here every week? There is only so much to do in our province, let alone our village.”

“Just because the young mistress Yang comes down to visit you every other day does not mean I have the privilege of that with someone else,” Jaehyun returns, and succeeds in rendering his cousin silent.

In the few moments of peace between them, even when Yunkyoung no longer says anything, her words stay with Jaehyun. Was Jibeom really travelling down to Jeolla-do every week just to see him? That could not be it… he could not be the reason for it — he simply does not believe it, must not believe it. Surely Jibeom has some sort of business around this province, or is at least passing through the province on his way elsewhere and simply dropped in to see him.

Jaehyun shakes his head slightly. He cannot be thinking of this right now; there are more important matters, like the coming barley harvests as well as that he has to prepare to leave for Hanseong a few days after the harvests, as was agreed between him and Jibeom — and once again, Jibeom comes back into his mind. It is almost frustrating.

When the harvests starts, time seems to pass so fast. Jaehyun is swept up in the goings and comings with no thought to rest, and without him realising, the date of his departure draws ever closer. It only really settles him that he is leaving when his aunt brings him to pray at the temples a few days before he is due to leave.

“You must take care of yourself,” Jieun murmurs. “The Palaces have good people, but also those will ill intentions. I pray that you will only meet good people, and that you will be safe, and that you will be taken care of.”

“I can take care of myself, you do not need to worry,” Jaehyun says, smiling at his aunt. “Thank you for taking care of me for all this time.”

Jieun only sighs. “You always deserve good things, Jaehyun-ah. It is time you dream for yourself a little more. Remember that you can always come back if things become hard… we will always have a home here for you.”

“Of course I will come back,” Jaehyun says, and his heart twists at the thought of leaving his family. “Hire help if you need it, and I will write to you as soon as I arrive. Do take care…”

They make their back from the temple, and Jieun is telling him to remember to wash early, to have a rest when he needs to, and to write often to them. Jaehyun listens to it all with the lingering feeling that it will be the last time in a while that he is going to hear her voice. When they reach home, Yunkyoung throws the door open.

“You are late,” Yunkyoung says in an almost accusatory tone. “There is so much to do before you leave, oraboni!”

“Oh, I will be alright,” Jaehyun says, soothing. “You do not need to worry about me. You will see me again before you can even start to miss me, and I do not think you will miss me, right?”

“No,” Yunkyoung says, a little headstrong like she always is, but her eyes are a little watery. Jaehyun smiles at her, and gently pulls her in for a hug.

“You will be alright, Kyoung-ah,” Jaehyun says quietly. “Take care of your mother, and yourself. I am only in Hanseong, and if there is anything, you can always write to me.”

“You are the one has to take care,” Yunkyoung says fiercely, pulling back to look up at him. “The Palaces — they can be so cruel, I have heard of so many rumours —”

“They are only rumours, and you know that I will be alright. If it troubles you to know more about how I am doing, or the household that I am in, you can ask your beloved young mistress.”

“Oh, go away!” Yunkyoung says huffily, her cheeks beginning to redden. “I am sure we will all be okay.” Even so, her shoulders are no longer as tense as before, and Jaehyun goes up the stairs with a lighter heart.

His room that was already bare is further emptied. He has taken most of his clothes with him, packed away in bundles and ready to be loaded up. He will spend only two more nights in this room that he has grown up in since he was a child, and something like nostalgia tugs at his heart.

Once again, his eyes sweep around the room, taking it all in — and there is something he had not seen before. On the little desk in the corner of his room, a single chrysanthemum lies there, a dark, burnished red. Yunkyoung must have gotten the flower, Jaehyun thinks to himself, picking the flower up. He thumbs at the soft petals between his fingers, and then tugs a ribbon out of his pocket.

Deftly, he ties the ribbon to the stem of the flower, and then reaches up to the windowsill. He loops the ribbon through the sill and ties it so the flower hangs upside down, perfuming the room gently. Hopefully, it will have dried sufficiently in the two days before he leaves so that he can preserve it and bring it with him to Hanseong without ruining it.

Two days has never felt shorter to him. It is as if he has only closed his eyes and paused to breathe and the day to depart to Hanseong has already arrived. One moment, he is sitting in his little room; then he is in the kitchen with Yunkyoung; then he is greeting Jibeom as he comes through the inn door for the last time in a while.

"You are ready to leave?" Jibeom asks, smiling.

Jaehyun's heart flips. "Yes. We are travelling by horseback, is that right?"

"We are," Jibeom confirms. "We can split the belongings you bring between us, and take a rest if needed since the days are still long. We do not need to leave right now," He adds, looking past Jaehyun to see Yunkyoung and Jieun. "I only came earlier to help you."

"Oh," Jaehyun murmurs, and he feels more than sees the tips of his ears burn.

Certainly, it feel strange to lead Jibeom into his little room, devoid of anything except his bundles of clothes and some books, and the lone dried chrysanthemum hanging above his window. There is the faint scent of soap and flowers that remain in the room despite it being ridded of his belongings, and he catches himself looking around the room longingly.

"It is difficult to leave home," Jibeom murmurs, and Jaehyun looks up. "I once too, had to leave home. It becomes easier when you find a new home after this."

"I think it will be alright in the end," Jaehyun agrees. "It always is."

"As is life," Jibeom says, and then he smiles at Jaehyun. "Let me help you bring these down?"

They spend the next few minutes bringing Jaehyun's belongings down and loading them into the bags by the horses. There is not much that Jaehyun is bringing with him, so Jibeom urges him back into the inn, telling him to say goodbye to his family and some of the villagers that he is particularly close with.

The words he receives are not anything he has not already heard. Take care of yourself. Remember to write home. You must come back for Seollal if they let you. He receives little gifts of sweets and tokens as good luck for leaving home, and finally — it comes to only Jieun and Yunkyoung left. Everything that they want to tell him, they had said it last night in the privacy of their little home.

Now, they only stand in front of him with bright eyes.

"Good things," Jieun says, smiling softly at Jaehyun like he is a little boy again. "You are a good person, Jaehyun-ah, and I pray that you meet good people, and have good things happen to you."

"I will visit you in Hanseong," Yunkyoung tells him determinedly. "I will find my way there."

"I know you will," Jaehyun says, almost fond. He knows of her books and studies, and knows of her dancing. Knows of the young mistress Yang and how Yunkyoung keeps her letters in a little bundle in her room. "I will wait for your visit then, Kyoung-ah. Until then, you must take care of yourself and Jieun-goma."

"Of course I will. Then — farewell for now, oraboni."

"Farewell, Jaehyun-ah."

"Take care, goma, Yunkyoung." Jaehyun smiles at them one more time, then turns to find Jibeom. He steps out of the inn and closes the door gently behind him, feeling oddly as if he is leaving for another life.

For a moment, he lets himself stand there and soak in the fresh autumn air. The streets are lively, as always, noisy with horses and carriages, with hawkers and sellers, with children and merchants. The trees wave their branches high with the gentle wind, and it is well into autumn that some of the leaves are already turning colour, orange and greens and yellows forming a bright scene around him.

In the midst of all this — Jibeom stands there. He is almost quiet, like a still painting against the bustling of the village. His robes are grey linen like they always are, but Jaehyun's eyes follow the line of the robes down his shoulders and arms, and his heart flips once again.

"You are ready?" Jibeom asks when Jaehyun comes up to his side.

"I am."

"Then will you bring us some water and sweets for the journey? It will be a long ride and I do not want you to become weak on the road," Jibeom says, and then drops a few coins in Jaehyun's palm.

Jaehyun had not been expecting this, and as a result of it he goes to follow Jibeom's words without question. He gets water and some sweets for them to share, and when he goes back, Jibeom has saddled both horses, prepared to go. Jaehyun stores the food away in one of the bags as Jibeom steps away for a moment, and before he can do anything, he feels his hand in Jibeom's.

"Let me," Jibeom says, and he helps Jaehyun up onto the horse.

It is all too much for Jaehyun, and he simply nods in thanks as Jibeom gets onto his own horse. They share a look then, and they start the journey to Hanseong, this time with no promise of a hasty return on both of their parts.

The day is clear and dry, and they are lucky to choose such a day to be travelling. It only occurs to Jaehyun a little ways into the trip that Jibeom must have been lonely to travel like this on his own so many times. When they stop in the late afternoon to give the horses a break, Jaehyun asks as such.

"I think of it as some peace away from the Palaces," Jibeom says, rolling a sweet around his mouth. "There is always so much going on in the Palaces, but out here —" he spreads his hands and gestures at the expanse of green, the blue sky, the gentle wind, "— everything is peaceful. It is almost like a respite."

Jaehyun makes a little noise then, wants to voice his understanding, but then Jibeom is continuing his words.

"But I think it is always nice to spend time with you." It is said softly, but there is no one else but them to hear it; nothing covers the sound of his voice apart from the far-blowing wind, and Jaehyun loses the words that he wanted to say.

"It almost selfish of me," Jibeom murmurs, and now he is looking at Jaehyun. "When we arrive at the Palaces, we will not see each other much for our duties to our masters. And yet, out here, as I have visited you for these past few months... I have sought out your presence in ways I do not understand myself."

Jaehyun tries to swallow around the blossom in his throat. "I was told to be a little more selfish when I was leaving," He says, and does not quite know where his words are going; he is looking into Jibeom's eyes. "I do not... I like spending time with you, as well." It feels like a moment that he has dreamed into life.

For a moment, Jibeom looks like he will — do something. Like he will forget all his duties to this mortal earth and see only the man in front of him. But — the moment passes as quickly as it came. The far-blowing wind has arrived and it swirls around them, blowing leaves between them.

"We should leave before the sun sets," Jaehyun says, glancing up at the sky.

He thinks he hears Jibeom take a breath in. "Then let us depart."

Everything that happens in the subsequent hours and days feels like one long day to Jaehyun. Vaguely, he remembers arriving in Hanseong just as evening arrived; he remembers bustling streets, shops larger than his family inn; he remembers the streets wider than anything he has seen in his life, and the structure of the Palaces rising above him, imposing, grand.

Jibeom had led him through the Palace gates and then to the Western compounds, where the prince Hong was staying. They had arrived just as the evening sura was being held, which meant that most of the servants were either cooking or serving inside the dining halls, leaving them to unload Jaehyun’s belongings and make their way into the servant’s quarters relatively unnoticed.

“This is the room you will share with another cook,” Jibeom explains, coming to a half in front of a door. “This whole hallway is for the servants, and the room opposite yours is mine. I also share it with someone else, but if there is anything you ever need, do come and find me.” He pauses then, as if he wants to say more, but then his mouth breaks into a small smile.

“What are you smiling at?” Jaehyun murmurs, more tired than he first thought now that he was actually near his room, in Hanseong.

“… Nothing. Do have some rest tonight, Jaehyun. It has been a long journey, and I am sure you are tired.”

Jaehyun makes a noise of agreement, then somewhere in his exhausted mind, he joins a few thoughts together that rouses him from his stupor. “Are you not this tired every time you come to see me in Jeolla-do?”

Jibeom keeps the soft smile on his face. “Perhaps, but I think it is worth it. Goodnight now, Jaehyun. Work will start tomorrow.”

Indeed, as Jibeom says, work does start in the morning — the very early morning. It is good that he is already used to waking at this time, or he would have found himself struggling to wake at such times.

The other cook he shares the room with is called Daeyeol, who serves the prince Choi, and Daeyeol is several years older than him, with both experience and kindness to share. He shows Jaehyun where the kitchens are, where he can take a rest if needed, and what his work is to be.

“Because we serve the princes, it is not so stressful as the royal cooks,” Daeyeol explains as they come back to the kitchens. “The princes are delightful, and they often drop by the kitchens just for company. Prince Hong and Prince Choi are close, and so the servants are too. If there is anything you are unsure about, I will do my best to assist you.”

“Thank you, hyung,” Jaehyun says, grateful. “I do not know a lot of things, so I will be in your care for now.”

“Where did Jibeom even find you? You are so polite, and sweet,” Daeyeol remarks, patting his shoulder good-naturedly. “I hope he did not bid you come here against your will.”

“No!” Jaehyun says, before he can think his words through. “I mean — he did not. He only offered to me the chance to work here, and let me have time to think about it. He has only been… kind to me.” He breathes out a little, pleased that he had said kind, not letting sweet, or endearing, or caring slip through his mouth.

“Jibeom must have taken a liking to you then,” Daeyeol says, as if his words are not making Jaehyun flush. “I knew that he was searching for a cook, but he has never been so insistent on bringing you back here. I have known him since he came here to work, and he has never been this way with anyone else.”

“Is that so?” Jaehyun murmurs, unsure what to do with these things that Daeyeol tells him.

“Do you?” Daeyeol asks, and there is a teasing smile on his face.

“I beg your pardon?” Jaehyun returns, and feels the heat in his ears again.

“Have you also taken a liking to Jibeom? To be sure, he is easy on the eyes and he speaks well, but he only has a heart for his work, and serves the prince Hong so well.”

Jaehyun only looks down at the kitchen counter, hesitant. “I… I think he is good company, and I like to spend time with him.” That is all honest. For the past few months that he has come to know Jibeom, he has only been happy in the times they spent together. “Besides, I have come here to work, not to seek love. It is better I give my heart to my work.”

Daeyeol laughs a little then. “If you say so, Jaehyun. Now — I will show you the breakfasts we make. Do you know how to make tteok?”

Under Daeyeol’s instructions, they set out to make bukkumi and ggul tteok for breakfast, and it is good that they had woken early. Jaehyun has only made sirutteok before, so he follows Daeyeol’s lead carefully as they mix rice flour and salt together while the water boils. Once the water is boiled, they add some to the flour and let it cool before they started kneading it.

“It should be soft, and slightly glutinous,” Daeyeol says, demonstrating by poking a finger into the dough. “Once it is of this consistency, make small balls of dough and flatten it out with the palm of your hand.”

Jaehyun continuously wets his fingers in water as he makes the balls, the ends of the dough sticking to his fingers as he tries to make the little discs that Daeyeol seems to make so effortlessly. Daeyeol assures him that it is only experience that makes him so fluent in making this, and then brings out a jar of red bean paste.

“Fill up half of the disc, like this,” Daeyeol says, scooping up some of the red bean paste, “and fold it in half, like mandu, and you are done! I also have some leftover flowers from when we made hwajeon the other day, so we can put some on the bukkumi just like this.” He gently presses the water-wet petals onto the top of the bukkumi, and then all that is left to do is to fry them.

“I will start frying, if you want to keep making bukkumi so you get used to it,” Daeyeol offers, and Jaehyun nods.

Just like everything else he makes, Jaehyun quickly becomes familiar with making and shaping bukkumi and soon, there are two full plates of bukkumi waiting to be fried. Daeyeol nods approvingly and sets a third plate of already-fried bukkumi onto another counter.

“Do you know how to make ggul tteok?”

“I do, I’ve made it before. How much should I make?”

“Two baskets — less than the bukkumi, but hopefully it is not too much work. Once I have finished this, I will come and help you.”

Jaehyun nods and sets about making the ggul tteok. He stirs through the glutinous rice flour for a bit before adding some sugar and salt; a well is made in the centre and he pours in boiling water with a little juice from some wild berries, just for the colour. He gently combines these ingredients until it forms a soft dough, and tips it out onto the flour-covered kitchen counter to knead it.

From his side, the smell of fried bukkumi fills the kitchen, and for the first time, Jaehyun does not feel trapped by steam and heat as he cooks. This kitchen is far larger than the one at home, and its size would have been intimidating were it not for Daeyeol beside him, and humming a tune under his breath. It is almost lovely.

Focusing back on his work, Jaehyun finishes kneading the dough and covers it with a cloth to let it rest. He goes back to repeat his steps again, forming two more doughs of different colours with vegetables and spices before he checks back on them again.

Once he is sure the first dough is rested enough, he rolls it out into small balls and lines a steamer basket with a wet cloth before arranging the first batch of tteok to be steamed. The water is simmering, so he places the steamer basket over the pot of water to let the tteok start to cook.

While it steams, Jaehyun finishes off his work by making the honey. In a smaller pot, he stirs lemon rind, lemon juice, sugar, water, and honey until it boils; now, the smells of lemon honey are added to the bukkumi, and its scent is warm. He takes the pot off the fire and continues stirring it until it becomes thick, and he leaves it to the side to cool down.

The first batch of tteok is ready — the rice cakes are glossy to the eye, and when he pokes one softly with a chopstick, it is also tender. He removes them from the steamer basket and rolls out another batch to be steamed. As he works, Daeyeol is finishing up the last batch of bukkumi, and he takes over with the steamed tteok.

“You made the honey really well,” Daeyeol compliments, swiping a bit of the sauce to taste. “Jibeom was indeed right that you cook well. The tteok is so soft, and look — it tears so prettily.”

“Thank you,” Jaehyun says, feeling the itch under his skin as he always does when someone compliments him. He takes out the last batch of steamed tteok to cool down, and drizzles the honey over the cooled tteok so it becomes ggul tteok. As a finishing touch, he dusts it with soy bean flour and stacks them on plates neatly.

Daeyeol, too, plates up the bukkumi, and it looks beautiful with the edible flowers pressed into the rice cake, vibrant against the white. He turns around again to make chrysanthemum tea; he drops a few blossoms into hot water and adds rock sugar to it, stirring it through a few times and then setting it on the trays with the other foods.

“Once you are done, just leave the food on this table,” Daeyeol says, knocking lightly on the surface of the table they stand in front on. “This is the serving table, and it is easy to remember because it is the one closest to the entrance. The other servants will come and pick it up… ah, look, here they are!”

Jaehyun is briefly introduced to some of the servers, but they leave too fast to really have a conversation since it is breakfast, and he and Daeyeol retreat back into the kitchen. Daeyeol starts talking about what they might make for the other meals as he plates up the remaining bukkumi and ggul tteok.

“We can have our own breakfasts once the princes dismiss the other servants,” Daeyeol adds in the middle of his spiel. “There are not many of us, and you will soon know all of us.”

They do not need to wait long, for the servants soon return to the kitchens — and a familiar face is among them. Firstly, he is introduced to Youngho and Yeonhee who work for Prince Hong; under Prince Choi there is Youngtaek, his manservant, and Jaemin and Myungeun as his servants. Among the rush of new names and faces, Jaehyun latches onto the one familiar person that he knows —

“Have you rested well?” Jibeom asks quietly, stepping up and bringing Jaehyun to his side momentarily. “You must have woken early today.” The chatter of the others fade into the background.

“I have, thank you,” Jaehyun replies, wondering if what he hears is concern in Jibeom’s voice. “Everything is… so new.”

“It is,” Jibeom says, and Jaehyun cannot bear to look into his eyes; it could be tender. “But I am sure you will soon find comfort here. Daeyeol-hyung is kind and I have asked for him to take care of you especially.”

“I am in your debt,” Jaehyun says. He steels himself then, has more things that he wants to say, but then he looks up just slightly, forgetting his attempt to not look at Jibeom — and as soon as he does, the words he wants to say are forgotten.

Jibeom is already looking at him.

“I am glad you are well,” Jibeom says, and his voice soft. He reaches up to hold Jaehyun’s wrist loosely then, and it is so gentle that Jaehyun could break free if he wished to. Jaehyun does not move, only keeps his hand there where Jibeom’s touch is soft; if he were braver, he would have reached out to Jibeom as well.

For one moment, it is like Jibeom is looking at him only. Again, like when they were alone in the wide expanse of the country side, they look at each other. For one moment, they are not tucked away in the corner of this crowded kitchen.  For one moment, there are words poised on both of their lips and yet they do not speak it aloud; everything seems too fragile, even in this noisy, bustling kitchen. For one moment, it is only them in the world, and the world is theirs.

Jibeom’s hand moves from being clasped around his wrist, down to his fingers, until their hands are intertwined. Jaehyun is never quite sure of what to do when Jibeom is around him, but this time, he returns the gentle pressure, and they are holding hands.

Your hands are warm, Jaehyun wants to say, but still nothing comes out from his mouth.

They lean in towards each other.

“Jibeom, Jaehyun, what are you doing in the corner there? The food will soon be cold if you do not come and join us!” Daeyeol calls. The moment shatters.

Startled, they look up from where they had been standing together, away from the warm commotion of breakfast. Jibeom laughs at Daeyeol’s words and nods, straightening up and saying that they will come over. Their hands do not let go of each other until they come to the table —

And even then, their hands linger.

The autumn settles in as Jaehyun gets used to staying in the Palaces. With Daeyeol’s help, he establishes a routine. They plan out the meals together and go shopping in the markets twice a week with the other servants so there are enough people to carry the items back home. He has his nights off once the kitchen is cleaned, and for the first few weeks, he had spent it wandering the compounds and the city, fascinated by everything he saw.

Chuseok is the first holiday that he spends at the Palaces, and after the rush of preparing all the foods needed for the event, it is a most pleasant night. In between settling in and learning new foods to make, he finds time to write letters to his family back in Jeolla-do, and sends it off with the messengers. When he finally tires of wandering around in the evening, Daeyeol advises him to take up a hobby.

“You could try your hand at some of the instruments, or have with needlework,” Daeyeol says, and they are both folding their laundry. “The mentors are often free, and they give lessons to many of us here.”

After a week or two, Jaehyun eventually settles on embroidery. After all, it was relaxing, and he would not be disturbing Daeyeol in the evenings with an instrument. Therefore, he obtains cloth and thread from the markets and draws out a simple pattern with charcoal over stretched cotton before he starts embroidering.

His evenings are soon filled with needlework; in the beginning, he is hesitant and unsure of his work, but as the days pass, it quickly becomes familiar with the needle and thread and his charcoal drawing slowly comes to life.

Somehow, even when he spends most of his day in the kitchens and most of his evenings with his embroidery, he still manages to see Jibeom every now and then. Their schedules often clash, and even meals together are difficult to come by since Jibeom is often rushing about the city.

“As I have said, he wants to see you,” Daeyeol says, one particularly cold morning. Autumn was ending, and the winter was soon to set in.

“Hmm.”

“Whether you choose to see it or not is beyond my control, Jaehyun-ah. But the winter really is settling in… I do hope the wangseja returns soon. None of us are quite at ease but the wangsejabin is beside himself, I hear.”

The gossip was something else Jaehyun had to becomes accustomed to. He had never really been the target of whispers and still was not when he arrived, but to hear shocking news relayed between households about the court ladies, eunuchs, or even royals themselves was a new experience for him.

“Surely he will spend Seollal here?”

“The wangseja has always placed the country first, and there are rumours of a rebellion rising with support from the inside… we can never be too careful, especially here, in the capital.” Catching Jaehyun’s worried expression, Daeyeol hurries to tack on, “But we are a small household. There is hardly anyone who wants anything to do with our Princes… just be careful, Jaehyun-ah.”

This sentiment is also shared by Jibeom, who comes by to visit him in the evening in his room. Jaehyun does not look from his embroidery when the door opens after a soft knock, and it is only when he has tied a knot in the back of his threads that he looks up.

“I am sorry to have disturbed you,” Jibeom murmurs, and Jaehyun takes note of the lines in his forehead, the bags under his eyes.

“You are not a disturbance,” Jaehyun replies simply, and puts his needlework away to usher Jibeom to sit down. “How has your day been? You look… tired.”

“It has been a long day,” Jibeom says, and as he says these words, it is like he deflates between each breath. “Gods above, I do not know what is happening in the courts… the wangseja is due to arrive only next month, and I fear the rebellion has roots in more than just rumours.”

“There are insiders with the rebellion?” Jaehyun asks, picking up on what Daeyeol had said earlier this morning.

“We only suspect so,” Jibeom says, and he looks so frustrated that Jaehyun is unable to help himself. He reaches out and takes Jibeom’s hand in his own, not sure what he is intending to do, but to see Jibeom’s brow soften and the pinched corners of his mouth smoothen out is more than enough. “I apologise, I did not mean to come here and complain of my day.”

“There is no fault in that. If it helps you relieve you of your worries, I would be most willing to listen to you.”

Jibeom laughs a little at that, like he is endeared, and somehow, their fingers become intertwined once again. It is only then that Jaehyun belatedly realises that they are alone, and his heart flips like it always does as Jibeom smiles at him.

“I have missed your company,” Jibeom says, and it feels like a confession. “You have eased my worries of the day with just your voice and touch.”

Jaehyun wonders if one could call this love. “I am part of a fraction of the many hours of the day you spend, perhaps it is just that you do not see me often enough to tire of my company.”

“I could have you beside me for a long time and not tire of you,” Jibeom says quietly. “I wonder if you do not already know, or if others have told you, but I have always sought you out.”

“I… I was told.”

“Do you – do you mind?”

“No! I – I mean that I also… I also look for you. I came to long for your presence, and I – and I did not know your visits were purposeful.”

If they were not what they are, Jaehyun thinks, they would have taken a different turn here. Perhaps Jibeom would have asked for his hand. Perhaps he would have been held, and would hold in return. Perhaps this was when their story might have ended —

“I am sorry I cannot give you what we want,” Jibeom says, and he looks away from Jaehyun for a moment, as if he could not bear it. Before Jaehyun can say anything, Jibeom continues on. “Please keep yourself safe,” He says, voice low, almost a plea. Their bodies are just a few inches away from each other, warm. “I pray that no trouble will ever befall you… but please keep yourself safe.”

Jaehyun looks at the space between their bodies, the way their hands fit against each other, and wonders if he was in a different life this space would have never existed from the beginning. “I promise you that I will — and you… you must take care of yourself. I only stay here, in the compounds, while you are made to travel and run bids.”

“And therein lies the difference between me and you,” Jibeom murmurs. “I know the courts, and I know them well. You… you have only been here for a few months. If anything happens to you…” Jibeom does not finish his sentence, but Jaehyun thinks he knows how it would have ended.

“We will be alright,” Jaehyun says, and his words seep into their skin, where it becomes love. He has more to say — always will have more to say, that we will see each other to a new year, that I will continue to long for you like I have no one else, that I want to know so desperately if this is what everyone calls love — but these words stopper up in his throat.

“I will leave you to rest now,” Jibeom says, but he only does so with longing in his voice, his actions. “Rest well tonight, Jaehyun, I will see you in the morning tomorrow before I leave.”

“I wish you only pleasant dreams,” Jaehyun says, following Jibeom to his door. For a moment, as they stand in the open doorway, Jaehyun thinks about how easy it would be for them to lean in, for them to throw everything away into the wind — and then Jibeom smiles, steps away, and turns to go into his own room.

Jaehyun closes the door, and thinks about Jibeom, and love.

If this is what they call love, it is like nothing he had heard of. The great tales and stories of love that conquered all, of love that defied the gods and carved names into the heaven itself… it did not feel like what he is feeling. This is not so big, not written out in the moon and spelled out in the stars; it is a small but bright candle that lights up their hearts.

If this is what they call love — this all-encompassing feeling, this emotion that feels so much like warmth and home, this ache in his chest that means he will never have his fill of Jibeom — it is a strange thing. It makes him both strong and weak in the same instance, and it brings content into his life, but also want for more.

If this is what they call love… then Jaehyun thinks he is very much in love.

“Would you like to make corn tea with me?” Daeyeol asks when Jaehyun finishes dressing. “It is cold this morning, and I think everyone would enjoy it.”

“We dried corn kernels the other day, did we not?” Jaehyun asks, tying his hair back and ready to follow Daeyeol out. “It would certainly be nice to have corn tea this morning… it has gotten so much colder recently.” They leave their room and step out into the cold winter air to head towards the kitchen.

“It may have gotten colder but if it is any comfort to you, the wangseja is due to be returning soon, and then we will celebrate Seollal. Will you be returning home for Seollal?”

“Once I have finished with the preparations for the celebrations I will be leaving,” Jaehyun answers, throwing the kitchen windows open and igniting the lamps. “The Prince said I could leave earlier but I dread to leave you with all the work of preparing the foods.”

Daeyeol smiles and reaches over to pat his shoulder, then brings out some glutinous rice to soak in water. “How kind you are, Jaehyun-ah. Thank you, but remember that sometimes it would not hurt to put yourself first. Now — shall we make this corn tea?”

Roasting the dried corn kernels is soothing and mindless, and it soon fills the kitchens with the gentle smell of corn, warm in the cool winter morning. Daeyeol takes the first batch of roasted corn kernels and pours it into a pot of boiling water, stirring it slowly. It is a wonderful, slow start to their morning, and they make their way through all the corn kernels until they have enough corn tea for the whole household.

Without rest, Daeyeol starts to make sok mieum while Jaehyun starts on making mandu-pi for the other meals in the afternoon. As Daeyeol chops red dates, ginseng root, and chestnuts to be simmered, Jaehyun mixes flour, salt, and water in a bowl until it forms a dough.

Beside him, Daeyeol starts boiling the water to simmer the ginseng, and the slices being poured into boiling water sounds in Jaehyun’s ears as he starts to knead the dough by hand. Once it becomes softer to the touch, he wraps the dough in a cloth and sets it aside for a moment to let it rest.

He helps Daeyeol start making some soup, and is distracted by how little soybean paste they have left before he remembers that he has to finish making the mandu-pi. Leaving the soup to Daeyeol, he uncovers the dough and continues kneading it until it is smooth and elastic; from this dough, he cuts it in half and covers one half while he continues to divide the dough into a few equally sized pieces. These little pieces of dough are rolled out into little discs, and he keeps them away in a container for later.

When he finally finishes making the mandu-pi, Daeyeol already has the soup boiling, and the ginseng slices are just about ready to be taken out. Jaehyun takes over making the sok mieum, and he picks out the simmered ginger slices, leaving the water. Taking the soaked glutinous rice, he drains it of water and pours the rice into the ginseng water and lets it simmer again.

“What do you think?” Daeyeol asks, handing a spoon to Jaehyun, full of soup.

Jaehyun takes it. “I think if it is a little spicier it would be more warming,” He replies, handing the spoon back. “Perhaps some gochugaru? Just a little, though.”

Daeyeol agrees, and while he goes about that, Jaehyun sieves the simmered rice, then warms it again with the red dates and chestnuts. As it boils away on the stove, Jaehyun searches for the cheongjang and finally locates it. Hurrying back to the food, he takes the sok mieum off the fire — ready to be served.

They fuss over the other dishes until they are plated and ready to serve, then all that is left is for the other servants to come and take the dishes away. Jaehyun is in the middle of washing up when Yeonhee returns to tell them that the Princes enjoyed the food and sent compliments back, as well as that they would have extra pay for the Seollal holidays.

Jaehyun thanks her, and wonders when even compliments from the Princes dulled in comparison to the smile Jibeom gave him after eating his food. He would have once berated himself for thinking of Jibeom without provocation, but he no longer does so; after all, it was not something he could necessarily prevent himself from doing. In as much as he thought of Jibeom, he also knew that he was in Jibeom’s thoughts more often than not.

His days are ordinary, as much as they can be when he is in the capital, and even when the wangseja returns to the Palaces, he is more concerned with when he can return home. He has never spent a Seollal away from home, and letters alone are not enough to cure his homesickness.

“You will be alright,” Jibeom had soothed him one night, and they are standing in the empty space between their rooms. Jibeom’s arms are around him and his face is buried in the grey linen of Jibeom’s robes. “You have done so well, Jaehyun. Soon you will be able to go home soon, and your homesickness will be cured.”

Jaehyun does not speak, but he clutches at Jibeom, the one piece of familiarity that has stayed with him this whole time.

“Will it make you feel better if I travelled back to Jeolla-do with you?” Jibeom asks quietly. At that, Jaehyun looks up, meets Jibeom’s eyes; it is so much easier to look now, and Jibeom’s eyes are the colour of chestnuts.

“You would do that for me?”

“I would do many things for you,” Jibeom answers, and he brings a hand up to gently cup Jaehyun’s cheeks. “You need to only say the word, and I will do my best.”

It would be selfish of him to do so. It would be entirely selfish of him to ask Jibeom to accompany him back to Jeolla-do when Jibeom had better things to do — but they are standing here alone with only the moon’s light gently shining at their feet, and Jaehyun wants to be selfish for once.

“Then would you take me back to Jeolla-do?” Jaehyun murmurs, searching Jibeom’s eyes. “You do not need to feel obliged to do so, but I… I miss you, and I would like for you to come with me.”

Jibeom only smiles, and then he brings Jaehyun’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss softly there. “I will.” There is nothing else that he voices, but there is a light in his eyes that Jaehyun finds irresistible.

Once again, he finds himself wondering how they would be if they were in different positions. If they would be more forward with affection, if they would already be together. If their candlelight love would have lit up a whole room and not only their hearts.

“You seem to have so much on your mind.”

“It is only you,” Jaehyun answers after a beat, and smiles at Jibeom.

He would not have them any other way.

With the wangseja’s return, Seollal passes as normally as it could be in the Palaces. Jaehyun is kept busy and he spends more time in the kitchens to prepare the foods needed, sustained by the promise that he could go home to spend the rest of the Seollal holidays with his family. Most of the servants are going back as well, but Daeyeol is not.

“I only have my brother,” Daeyeol explains, a light smile on his face. “He works for another household, but we will spend Seollal together.” He must have caught the troubled expression on Jaehyun’s face, for he adds, “Oh, do not worry! We have spent Seollal together ever since we both entered the Palaces. It is nice for both of us, and some peace and quiet is always enjoyable.”

“Then I hope that Seollal will pass peacefully for you,” Jaehyun returns, smiling at him. “Thank you for taking care of me until now, hyung.”

“Oh, you silly thing,” Daeyeol says, laughing as he does so. “You are just like my dongsaeng to me, Jaehyun-ah. I will always take care of you without being asked. Now go and prepare to go back to Jeolla-do — I am sure Jibeom is waiting for you outside.”

Jaehyun joins Daeyeol’s laughter, picking up a bundle he had packed last night, and stops by the rooms of his other friends to say a quick goodbye. He receives wishes to travel well and to stay safe, and more than a few giggles when he says that Jibeom is taking him home. He does so much for you, Youngtaek had said in a bubbly tone, and Jaehyun was left to think about what he meant as he left the compounds for the stables.

I would do many things for you, Jibeom had said just a few nights ago. You only need to say the word.

These words are so sweet, and Jaehyun had never been the recipient of these kinds of words before. He knows that Jibeom both means his words, but is also limited in what he can actually do — still, these words warm his heart, and he carries with him a small smile as he arrives at the stables. His happiness is apparently palpable enough that it warrants a teasing question.

"What has gotten you so happy?" Jibeom asks, smiling back at him. "Surely it could not be that you are going back today?"

"Among other things," Jaehyun replies, and the wind picks up around them slightly, blowing coldness into their robes. "Shall we leave? The days are always so short in winter and it is not safe to travel in the night."

Jibeom nods, and then they both mount their horses, ready to leave for Jeolla-do. It does not take long for them to leave the inner city, and soon they find themselves in the outskirts of Hanseong, about to burst into the countryside. It is then that Jaehyun thinks back to the autumn when he was riding to Hanseong with Jibeom at his side; now, winter has come and he is going back to Jeolla-do, but Jibeom is still at his side.

"Happiness looks pretty on you," Jibeom remarks when they stop briefly in the afternoon. Already, the sun's light is waning, and the sky is cast a dark blue. Then, as if he had just realised the gravity of his words, Jibeom flushes to the tips of his ears and turns away slightly.

A smile pulls itself at the corners of Jaehyun's mouth; Jibeom has said things that meant more, and he is shy over paying him a compliment. Wordlessly, he retrieves a sticky sweet he had made yesterday from his bag, and hands it to Jibeom. When Jibeom looks over, hand outstretched to take the sweet, Jaehyun gathers his courage and dips in closer to press a soft kiss to Jibeom's cheek.

"So it does, on you as well," Jaehyun murmurs, and for a moment they are so close that he can see warm sunlight in Jibeom's eyes, casted shadows on his cheeks.

"You are almost insufferable," Jibeom tells him, and they both hold a sweet in a hand; their free hands rest a few inches away from each other on the cold grass. The space is not as big as it once might have been.

"Insufferable, but you enjoy my presence, do you not?" Jaehyun asks, intending to tease only, but the look in Jibeom's eyes is soft.

"I... I do not think I need to answer that question," Jibeom says, and they both reflect the same smiles.

The rest of the ride is swift and safe, and they arrive at the inn just as the sun dips beyond the horizon. Jaehyun is barely able to dismount and unload his belongings before Yunkyoung bursts out the front door and launches herself into his arms.

"Oraboni!" She cries, voice filled half with joy and half with tears. "You are back!"

"I am," Jaehyun says, and his voice quickly becomes marred with sobs. To be sure, he had been homesick for the past few weeks, but to finally be here, to be home, where he had lived his whole life — it hits him all at once. It crests like tears in his eyes and a smile that tugs at his mouth so hard his cheeks hurt, and he has never felt warmer even when they stand outside on this cold winter's evening.

"Let us go in," Jieun says, her voice wobbly.

Yunkyoung helps her get in first, and over her shoulder, Yunkyoung calls for him to come in as well. Jaehyun nods, and then turns around to where Jibeom had been standing all this time, watching their reunion with a soft smile on his face. He reaches out, palm up, and returns Jibeom's smile.

"Come in with me," Jaehyun murmurs, and Jibeom takes his hand. Together, they go into the warmth of where they first met.

The inn has not changed much since he left. After all, it had been only a few months since he left, and as Yunkyoung put it, there simply was not enough happening in their small village that would warrant any sort of huge change. The few differences had been that a cook had been hired since he was no longer around, but the cook had gone home for Seollal.

"We closed the inn today since we knew you were coming back," Jieun explains, and she cannot keep her hands off Jaehyun, either petting his hair down or brushing off dust from his sleeves. "You look good, Jaehyun-ah. I am glad to see you have been well... oh, thank you for taking care of him, Jibeom-ssi."

"It is only right that I do," Jibeom replies, in that steady, formal tone that he always uses when he is doing his work. Perhaps it was the difference in how Jibeom talked to him, the soft voice and the gentle tone and the laughter full of love, contrasted with the deep formality that was Jibeom now — it makes Jaehyun's blood run hot, and he turns away for a moment to hide the abrupt redness of his cheeks.

Yunkyoung interrupts him then, asking him about anything interesting that happened in the Palaces, and if Prince Hong was nice. Jaehyun becomes distracted answering her, saying that nothing really happened in their little household, and that he did not really see Prince Hong enough to know of him as a person, but he would often slip Jaehyun more money and let him take rests.

"Remember the cloths and threads for your embroidery?" Jibeom suddenly asks, inserting himself into the conversation. "The ones that I brought to you? They were from the Prince as well. He had been delighted to find out you picked up a hobby, and made for the supplies to be bought for you."

Jaehyun is surprised by that; he had thought it was thread Daeyeol ordered but simply forgot to pick up, and had left it on their table. He makes a note to himself to thank the Prince when they return to the Palaces, and is quickly pulled back into talking when Jieun asks him about his embroidery.

They talk well into the night, and it is only when Yunkyoung threatens to fall asleep at the table that Jieun finally ushers them to bed. Jaehyun stays down a bit longer, telling Jieun that he will go to bed himself soon. She nods, and gives him a hug, murmuring about how thankful she is that he is safe and well. She leaves after that, and then it is only him and Jibeom left in the inn hall where they once sat together every week.

"Are you not tired?" Jibeom murmurs. "It has been a long ride, and so much excitement in the conversation we just had."

"Just a little," Jaehyun admits, "but I wanted to see you."

"You have seen me all day, Jaehyun-ah."

Jaehyun only hums, and their hands come together naturally, filling every space between each other. He is tired, and he has seen Jibeom all day, but there is still a chasm in his chest as if he has not seen Jibeom for a long time, and has missed him most desperately. Even as Jibeom leans down, presses his mouth to the back of his hand, he cannot help but feel as though he will always miss Jibeom in some sort of way.

He thinks he pins it down that night, after he and Jibeom part ways to their own rooms.

Today, they had spent the whole day together like they had no other commitments. It was only the two of them, and he had Jibeom to himself in as much as he was only for Jibeom's eyes. Something like yearning had started in his chest, and he knows that once Seollal is over, they will go back to Hanseong and resume their normal lives; to spend time together like this with no attention to their duties would not be possible.

Jaehyun closes his eyes, turns over, and goes to sleep. There is no point in fretting about this. Their lives were as given, and if their love was meant to be in this way, they would try their best. To know that he was loved back as much as he loved — that, in itself, was more than he could ever ask for.

Just a few days after their return from Jeolla-do, commotion occurs in the Palaces — in their household. A young man of yangban descent is to come and live in their household, and he is newly betrothed to Prince Hong. There is not much known about him except that his family is from the East, and his name is Kim Donghyun.

“Did you know he was to be betrothed to the Prince?” Jaehyun asks, two nights before Kim Donghyun is due to arrive.

“I was the one who ferried messages between them,” Jibeom says with something like a half-laughter tinting his tone. “Their marriage is for convenience, but I think there are good feelings between them.” He pauses then, as if he is recalling something, and Jaehyun gives him the time, looks down at his embroidery.

“I think the Prince wants to give him a better life,” Jibeom says after a few moments.

Jaehyun’s hand stills from where he is finishing off the flower. “A better life?”

“Young master Kim is… in a difficult situation,” Jibeom says carefully. “It is not my place to reveal what has happened to him, but the Prince found that the union would be both advantageous and it would also bring the young master Kim out of his plight.”

“I see,” Jaehyun murmurs. “Perhaps he will also find solace here.” He only means the words lightly, but then he catches Jibeom’s gaze that has softened, and his heart flips once again.

“There are many who have found solace here,” Jibeom replies, something like love playing on his lips. “Have you?”

“Me?” Jaehyun says, and he rolls the question around inside his head. What has he found since he came here? Friends, to be sure, and warmth and a safe place to come back to. But right now, as they sit together in the quiet night and pretend that time does not exist for them, the emotion he calls love swells in his chest like a tide.

“You, Jaehyun.”

“I have found more than solace here,” Jaehyun says quietly. They are looking at each other, and for a moment Jaehyun thinks they will lean in again; their breath is bated, and it feels like they are both too uncertain about shattering this delicateness that hangs between them.

“Have you?” Jibeom murmurs, for lack of things to say; his eyes shine like sunlight on chestnuts, and suddenly Jaehyun finds breath for all the words he wants to say.

“I have found you,” Jaehyun says, and there has never been so little space between them. “More than anything else… I have found you. I could not want for more than this.”

Something sad comes into Jibeom’s eyes then. “I wish… I wish I could give you what you want,” He says, and his voice is so small Jaehyun’s heart breaks a little. “If I could become better — if I was yangban, at the very least…”

“But we are, Jibeom,” Jaehyun says, and he puts his embroidery away to hold Jibeom’s hands; their skin will never be soft or smooth, but it will always feel right together. “We have found each other despite everything, and if I had to wait a lifetime for you, I will.”

There is a pause between them, and Jaehyun watches, feels, as Jibeom reaches up cup his face gently, moves his thumb over the shape of his bottom lip. His touch is so soft that Jaehyun wants to melt from it, his heart flipping in his chest. He wonders how others could say their love aloud so easily when he has his own love right in front of him, and he cannot say it out loud for fear of it breaking.

Their love is still candlelight.

“Then I promise to you that I will always come back to your side,” Jibeom whispers. He stops then, struggling with his words, and Jaehyun shifts closer bravely, their intertwined hands resting on their laps.

“Somehow, I have come to need you,” Jibeom finally says, with a little huff of laughter. “Your company, your thoughts, your laughter… I long to be with you all day. You have become so incredibly important to me — I could not bear to lose you.”

Is this what love sounded like?

“You have me,” Jaehyun says softly, bringing a hand up to rest over Jibeom’s hand that is on his cheek. “For all the days that you do not spend with me, I will meet you in your dreams. I had never known longing until I met you.”

If this was what love sounded like — Jibeom’s tiny laughter, the sounds of their robes rustling as they adjusted their positions, the gentleness of his voice as he promised Jaehyun that one day they would be happy together — then Jaehyun wants nothing else in his life.

We will be happier soon, Jibeom whispers into the back of his hand as the night deepens, but Jaehyun shakes his head, pulls Jibeom up.

You have already made me happier, Jaehyun murmurs, and he thinks that maybe their little candlelight becomes stronger when they are braver, like this.

One day, they will be able to be together without their other commitments restraining them. One day, they will be able to say the words of I love you easily without fear of blowing their candlelight out. One day, they will be able to come into each other’s arms and not think about anything else.

For now, they will have to make do. Work will always come first for them, but right now, in this deepening night, they only have each other to look at.

Kim Donghyun arrives without much fuss at their household two days later, and Jaehyun thinks he is a fairly suitable match for Prince Hong. He has a fair face and what is rumoured to be a sharp mind and a sharp mouth, but he smiles at the servants and had tried to come into the kitchens to help them when he first arrived.

"It would not be right for me to not help when I could," Donghyun had argued with Prince Hong, and for the first time, Jaehyun witnessed the couple together right in front of him, in his kitchen. Daeyeol was laughing under his breath behind him, and they had stopped making the morning meal in favour of watching them.

"I understand you are used to helping where you are from, darling, but —"

"Please, spare me from using such sweet names until you have found one suitable for me."

"Very well, my dearest. I shall certainly not stop you from doing what you please, but do rest for this week, at the very least. It has been a long journey, and it would not be good to fall ill in this winter."

"You are so persistent," Donghyun says, though there is no shortage of affection in his words. They leave then, their voices echoing through the hallways, and Jaehyun thinks the household will become much livelier from this day on.

"Are these the good feelings they have between them?" Jaehyun asks amusedly, going back to making heukimjajuk.

"They are always bickering," Daeyeol says dismissively, but he has been trying to hold back his laughter for a good few minutes, and it bursts out between his words now. "Goodness knows if that is the way they express their feelings."

"I think they seem quite suitable for each other. The Prince needs someone as stubborn as him, and young master Kim seems like he is just as headstrong."

"They will be interesting, I am sure. They are supposed to be wed in the spring, which is not too far away now that winter is coming to an end. After that... I think I know who will wed next," Daeyeol says, suddenly turning to Jaehyun and directing a knowing smile at him.

"Pardon?" Jaehyun asks, uncertain as to why Daeyeol is looking at him.

"Well, the manservant cannot marry before the master," Daeyeol elaborates, and his words bring a hot flush to Jaehyun's neck. "If it were not for work and court gossip, I think you would have been taken for a long time already."

"Hyung!" Jaehyun cries, and he drops the ladle into the pot of boiling rice.

Daeyeol laughs, loud and bright. "But I am right!"

Jaehyun studiously ignores Daeyeol for the next half an hour as they continue to work on breakfast, but he cannot deny the redness of his cheeks, or how his heart had flipped when Daeyeol pronounced his words as if they were fact. Would Jibeom really have made him his if it were not for work and gossip? Jaehyun cannot get this out of his head, and it persists in him for a good few days.

But he has better things to think about. Spring is soon arriving, and the weather has become warmer; this change of weather has meant that they needed to change their menus since the seasonal foods were cycling again, and it would be good to take advantage of new produce.

In the wider circle of the Palaces, rumours of a rebellion are almost commonplace now. Despite the best efforts of the royal family to keep a calm facade, it does not stop the courts from sharing news with each other about how the wangseja had been led on a false trip away from the Palaces to be ambushed. Jaehyun does not know the certainty of these rumour, but he does know that the wangsejabin sends cohorts of guards after the wangseja for what apparently turns out to be reinforcement.

"Everyone is a little tense," Jibeom had admitted, a week after the wangsejabin sent out the guards. "We do not know what is happening... just keep a look out for yourself, Jaehyun. If there really are traitors, they will not be merciful."

Jibeom's words linger with him, for he is right. Even in the little corner of their household, everyone is so much jumpier and seems to be on guard. More than once, he has seen the flash of a blade hidden in sleeves and under robes; he wonders who is really friend and who is actually foe, and both he and Daeyeol block the door when they go to sleep at night.

Perhaps what is most unnerving among the things he has noticed is Kim Donghyun.

The young master seems to have lost appetite lately, and even as he tries his best to keep up his usual energetic person, all in the household has noticed how tired appears to be lately. Prince Hong had asked the kitchens to bring him more nutritious food now that spring had set in and provided better produce, and it was evident that Kim Donghyun was going through some sort of difficulty.

"Why has the physician not been called?" Jaehyun had asked, but Jibeom only shakes his head.

"It is... not a good time right now," Jibeom answers quietly. "If others were to know that young master Kim is not well, it could put us in even more danger. We already do not know why he has taken ill — perhaps from fear, or stress, but we cannot attract more attention than we already do. To have a newcomer among us at this time makes us more suspicious in the court's eyes."

"... That is so unfair," Jaehyun says, and the injustice almost brings tears to his eyes. "The young master Kim could be seriously ill."

"As it stands, we can only pray that he will be cured from his ailment soon," Jibeom says grimly. "I have told the Prince that we could obtain permission from the wangsejabin to call a physician, but both he and the young master refuse to listen to me. Trust their obstinacy to turn on me when I least need it."

Jaehyun lets out a dry laugh. "Then I will also pray... and Jibeom — please keep yourself safe. You go into the courts so often on behalf of the Prince, I hope you are watching your back."

"Of course I will," Jibeom says, the tense lines of his mouth softening. "I also have something for you," He adds, and brings out something in a cloth pouch and handing it to jaehyun. "I had this especially made for you. I have to go soon for I have a prior commitment, but I just wanted to —”

“This is a dagger,” Jaehyun says, interrupting Jibeom. He has taken it out from the pouch and unsheathed it from its cover; the small weapon reflects the dark night, glimmering. “Where did you — why?”

"For when you need it," Jibeom says, and the tightness returns to his voice. "I know that you are safe here, but I cannot — my mind will not rest until I have at least tried to protect you. If you will not use it, would you keep it on your person so that you have something to help you with?"

"I will," Jaehyun returns. "Of course I will. This... this must have cost you to make."

"For you, and if it helps you to stay safe, it is worth it. I must go now, but do take care of yourself." Briefly, Jibeom's hand comes up to cup his face; his skin is rough but the way he touches him is so incredibly soft. Jaehyun turns his head, presses a kiss to the rough skin there and then they part ways.

It is only when he is the safety of his own room that Jaehyun examines the dagger. The blade is silver and smooth, the handle rounded and carved simply, just a band of black around the silver with ornamental design along the band. He flips the blade over, and at the hilt of the blade, there is a little carving etched into it. The carving is also simply done, just as everything else is of the blade, but it brings such fierce emotion into Jaehyun's chest that he has half a mind to leave his room and find Jibeom.

On the blade, the chrysanthemum flower is carved.

Jaehyun sheaths the dagger back into its cover and tucks it inside his robes, protected by the cloth pouch. Then, while he is still alone — he prays. He prays that everyone he loves will be safe, that they will be treated kindly whatever the circumstances, and that everything will turn out alright eventually.

His prayer for Jibeom's safety, however, is almost desperate.

Please keep him safe, Jaehyun thinks to himself, hands placed together. I would not ask you for much, but if I were to, it would be to keep him safe from anything. His prayers become too long to remember them all clearly, but he thinks this love has made him protective.

Please, god, let him be safe. I would not know what to do with myself if I no longer had him.

The dagger rests against his hip, warming against his skin.

Spring passes with bated breath and high tension, but summer is when it all bursts out, flooding. The wangsejabin had caught a servant poisoning his food, and the servant had refused to reveal who tasked them to do such a heinous thing. With the wangseja fighting his battle in the east and the traitor's claws sunken deep in the Palaces, they could only bide their time and wait for them to show their faces. Therefore, the court had resorted to doing what it did best — speculating.

This time, they turned their claws on Kim Donghyun.

It was almost like fitting two puzzle pieces together, for he was the perfect scapegoat. A newcomer with a history that no one really knew of, and betrothed to a lower Prince; no one knew of his family in the east, and the whole household had been fussing over his health to even begin considering addressing these rumours. They did not even know these rumours existed because they were closed off and trying to nurse him back to health; by the time Donghyun had recovered and was healthy enough to start bickering with the Prince again, the rumours were taken almost as fact.

"It is infuriating," Jaehyun had overheard Prince Hong say one day as he set out their dishes during a meal. "You have done nothing except fall ill. God — I hate the courts and their gossip. We are warring with the rebellion and they have nothing but your name in their mouths."

"I am sure the rumours will die down soon," Donghyun said then, and Jaehyun tried to make himself scarce, putting the dishes down as quickly as he could.

"The courts will start pushing for your banishment if we simply let the rumours go on," Prince Hong said, sounding almost pained. "I am so sorry, darling, if I had known earlier…"

Donghyun makes no sound of protest at the loving name, and Jaehyun rapidly exits the dining room, bumping into Jibeom on his way out.

"Have you sat in on them being affectionate?" Jibeom asks, catching the flustered expression on Jaehyun's face.

"I did not know they got so close over the young master's illness," Jaehyun admits. "It is certainly a departure from before when they were bickering so constantly. I am glad that he is better…"

"But you are worried about the rumours?" Jibeom guesses. "It is all that is on our minds now. It would be bowing down to those hawks if we were to address these rumours, but if we do not, the traitors would use him as a scapegoat. It is entirely impossible to find a way out without being unscathed — it is only a matter of which way they want to go about it."

Jaehyun sighs, something from deep within his chest. "Well, I hope that it does not cause too much pain. I must go back to the kitchens before Daeyeol-hyung becomes worried. Will I be able to see you soon?"

"Perhaps," Jibeom replies, and Jaehyun hates that the tense lines around his mouth have become a more common occurrence than not. "The wangsejabin has written to us and wants us to meet him in the next day, and we are not sure what he wants."

"Please be careful," Jaehyun murmurs, reaching out to briefly hold Jibeom's hands. "I believe the wangsejabin has no bad intentions, but do take care."

"I will come by your room tonight, if my work does not end too late," Jibeom says, smiling softly, and it makes the tense lines around his mouth disappear momentarily. "Go back to Daeyeol-hyung, Jaehyun. Take care of yourself until then."

They part ways again, and Jaehyun cannot help the dread that begins to rise in his chest. As much as he believes that the wangsejabin will not act hastily and take what they have to say into account, he cannot help but worry. Prince Hong, Donghyun, and Jibeom will all have to go into the main Palace tomorrow, and if they are not careful...

Jaehyun shakes the thought of his head and hastens his pace back towards the kitchens. There is no point for him to dwell on what might or might not happen; for now, he will do what he always does and simply wait for what will happen next.

It is excruciating to play this waiting game.

For all that he once felt that the Palaces were too fast paced with so much happening, it feels as though the hours of this one day has been suspended and frozen. Each second takes a minute to pass, and the already long summer day feels even longer.

The night comes after what feels like absolute days, and he anxiously waits for Jibeom to come and knock on his door. Daeyeol picks up on his nervousness and only pats his shoulder gently and drapes a handmade blanket around him before disappearing to find his brother in the next room. Jaehyun gathers the blanket around him, fidgeting with the edges and trying not to let his mind go into overdrive.

The hands of the clock move ever so slowly; he keeps losing the end of his thread when he tries to thread it through the eye of the needle; his hands shake and the blanket slides off his shoulders. It is only when he blinks up in tiredness and finds that it is almost midnight that a soft knock comes at his door.

Jaehyun puts his embroidery away and feels for the dagger he always keeps with him. Slowly, he opens the door, wary — and upon seeing that it is Jibeom, he throws the door open and steps out into Jibeom's arms. They do not say a word, but they stand at that threshold and hold each other, reuniting briefly in the cover of the night with only the spring moon to gaze after them.

"I have to tell you something," Jibeom says, muffled into Jaehyun's hair.

"Anything," Jaehyun says, and they pull back a little, just enough to see each other.

"We have not met the wangsejabin, but I have been talking with the Prince and the young master this whole afternoon. It would be impossible for them to be wed now without drawing ire and flame from the courts, and the young master especially needs to be protected now."

It takes a beat for Jaehyun to understand the unsaid part of their discussion. "You will need a distraction," He murmurs. "Something else so scandalous that the courts will completely forget the rumours around the young master. What do you have in mind?"

"There are a few options," Jibeom says, hesitates, and he tugs Jaehyun closer to him. "But there is something that I think might work well."

"Go on," Jaehyun prompts gently, coming to brush Jibeom's hair away from his face.

"You... you have heard of how the manservant is not supposed to marry before the master, right?" Jibeom begins, and immediately, Jaehyun knows where he is headed. "Well, nothing is set in stone yet, but - but it could be a possibility that this is the way we direct the court's attention elsewhere."

Unable to help the heat of his cheeks or the flip of his hearts, Jaehyun voices his own question. "You - you mean to say that...?"

"Only if you would," Jibeom says, and for the first time, there is no space in between them. "I ask you not only because of this but - but also that this is something I have been wanting to give you for such a long time now."

"You really want me?" Jaehyun asks, tentative. "I — that is not what I mean to ask, but... but I am only a commoner, a cook. You could take the yangban exams and become a general, without me holding you back."

"Jaehyun," Jibeom starts, and there is a light in his eyes that Jaehyun has never seen before, "I have made work my first this whole life. I have never met anyone that I have wanted to cherish as much as you, and if I could, you would be more important than any work I could possibly undertake. I have always wanted to choose you, Jaehyun. Given the chance now, I will take it with my whole heart."

"You are far too sweet," Jaehyun eventually says, when he has pressed his tears down. "I... I want to choose you to. I always have." He looks at Jibeom then, and he thinks he can name this light in Jibeom's eyes as love.

"Then I will tell you of what happens after we meet the wangsejabin," Jibeom promises, and he leans in, kisses Jaehyun's forehead. "The night is late, and I apologise for making you wait so long. Have some rest now, Jaehyun. Tomorrow will be a long day."

"I wish peaceful dreams for you tonight," Jaehyun murmurs, leaning into Jibeom's warmth one more time before they part.

"Oh, I will," Jibeom says, and there is happiness in his tone. "With you, I always will."

The next morning, Jaehyun wakes up — and laughs out into the cool spring morning. He shakes his head when Daeyeol asks him if he had an amusing dream, and they begin to get ready to prepare the morning meal. Jibeom's words still resound in his head, but he has resolved not to think of it until Jibeom comes back with a definite answer for the both of them.

As always, the morning passes by uneventfully; he barely manages to stop Daeyeol from accidentally putting sugar in the stew because they had been mixed up last night, and they laugh about it for a while. In fact, the whole day passes by as ordinarily as it always does, and Jaehyun suspects it is because they stay in the kitchens for the whole day. Every now and then the other servants come in and tell them about what has happened outside, but no one really knows how the meeting with the wangsejabin has went since only the Prince, Donghyun, and Jibeom were attending.

"Certainly, it did not stop the courts from gossiping further," Jaemin says, rolling his eyes when he comes to collect the afternoon dishes for Prince Choi.

"The only thing that will stop them is if a bigger scandal arises," Youngtaek says, coming in to join them. "Prince Choi does not even know about what will happen. It seems that everything has been kept a secret until they return in the evening."

Jaehyun hums, and sets down some clear soup. "There is nothing we can do but wait. At the most, we should show a good front so they think we are functioning well. It would not do for them to capitalise on any weaknesses we show."

"Spoken well," Youngtaek says, grinning. "Well, we will bring this to Prince Choi and not bother you any longer."

(the wangsejabin's gaze is calm, steady. "i have a favour to ask of you, prince hong.")

The afternoon passes by, as it always does. They run out of soybean paste and Daeyeol goes to make more; Jaehyun stirs through the boiling water thoughtfully and decides to make it into soup. It will take a while yet for the soybean paste to be made, and they need more of the paste for stew. He tells Daeyeol as such, and they change the menu slightly.

("this might be a difficult request for you to fulfill, but if you would, your household will be in good favour. i only want you to marry your betrothed, but quietly. if you could stir up any rumours to cover it up, it will also be beneficial to all of us.")

They have not returned even when the evening is coming, Jaehyun thinks briefly to himself as he dices some vegetables. He leans over to have a mandu that Daeyeol made, and nods in delight at the taste. He becomes distracted with the rush to prepare the evening meal, but the worry for Jibeom grows in the back of his chest.

("i believe you had no part in this," the wangsejabin murmurs, eyes landing on donghyun. "i will take care of the servant and the traitors inside the palaces on my part. i ask you of this — will you do it?")

They are still in the middle of cooking when the door opens; they look around in surprise, it not being the time for the servers to come yet, and they become more surprised when they see who it is. Prince Hong, young master Kim, and Jibeom have come into their kitchen, looking tense.

Hurriedly, Daeyeol and Jaehyun bow, but Prince Hong urges them up.

"No, no, do not worry about that right now. We have something to discuss with you, Jaehyun. Will you leave the kitchen for a while?"

"Of course," Jaehyun says immediately, albeit a little nervously. He feels Daeyeol give him a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder as he goes out; he expects to be told to follow them somewhere, but then Prince Hong and young master Kim nod at Jibeom, and leave the kitchen.

"Jibeom?" Jaehyun asks, a little confused.

"Will you come with me outside for a moment?" Jibeom says instead, and Jaehyun suddenly remembers what Jibeom had told him last night. Distracted by what might possibly happen, Jaehyun follows him outside to the hallways, and they stand together in the slowly darkening afternoon; just a few steps down from them, the plum blossom trees grow in full, and the ground has become a carpet of petals.

It feels almost romantic, Jaehyun thinks, and he is not used to it. Even the wind is gentle and sweet-scenting, and it is as if someone had painted a portrait of peace and love around them, for them.

Jibeom smiles at him, and it is tender.

“Marry me.” There is no hesitance in his words, and his gaze is clear.

“You already know my answer,” Jaehyun says, and he cannot help the little laughter he lets out. “Do you ask just for the sake of it?”

“I did not ask you properly last night,” Jibeom returns, and their smiles match in size until their cheeks are aching. “Will you, then? Will you marry me?” They are already in each other’s arms, and to look at Jibeom’s smile directly is like he is gazing up at the moon.

“You are sure?” Jaehyun asks, breathless; he is only jesting, but Jibeom’s smile settles into something more calm then. Jaehyun’s heart flips.

“You are the only one,” Jibeom murmurs, and his answer seems to be so easy. “You give me love, and I would be a fool to let love pass by me, or to let it go.”

Jaehyun’s heart skips a beat again, and another, and he cannot help the laughter that bubbles up and out of his throat, coloured pink like the plum blossoms. Everything about this does not seem like theirs; the carpet of flowers, the sweet wind, the way they have this place only to them, the way time is frozen in this one moment.

Everything does not seem like theirs, but if he is ever sure about one thing, it is that he will have Jibeom for a long time.

“I will,” Jaehyun says softly, bringing Jibeom’s hands up to his mouth, pressing kisses against his knuckles there. “I will marry you. I hope to be with you for a long time, Jibeom.”

Jibeom says something to him — but it is covered by the wind that picks up around them. It blows petals into the air and tangles their hair into knots, and the sudden chill it provides only serves to bring the new lovers together more closely, sharing their warmth.

In the next few weeks that pass, there is suddenly a new rumour that makes it way through the mouths of the court. It is little known as to where and how the rumour first came about, but the court did not really concern itself with the root of these false news; this time, however, there was a certain truth to the rumours.

It is said that one of the servants of Prince Hong had fled with a commoner and gotten married. This kind of news spread like fire on oil among the court, and soon all other rumours were forgotten in favour of this. The servant married before the master, the court whispered, how could it be! How terribly rude of the servant it is to betray their master’s good faith in this way.

It was only such a shame that the courts could not pinpoint which servant it was. For all they knew, it could be the servants that were for some reason changed of their household, or those that still remained with Prince Hong. There was not one servant with any difference to their appearance to so much as hint of this rumour; there was no ring, no abrupt holiday granted to the servant, nothing that gave this rumour any base to stand upon.

The only thing it did was serve its purpose — to distract and make the courts forget the previous rumours that had filled their mouths.

Under this cover, Prince Hong had married Donghyun quietly in the late summer. Now, Kim Donghyun was part of the royal family; it served to give him more protection, and the wangsejabin had further assigned more guards to their households, as well as swapping a few roles around. Yeonhee had been moved to serve as a foreign princess’ lady-in-waiting, and Jaemin had been assigned to serve Prince Huang in another compound.

“Better to confuse the court as to which servant it actually is,” The wangsejabin said with a light in his eyes that suggested he was having his own fun. “I hope it has not been too harsh on your household, Prince Hong.”

Joochan shakes his head. “You have helped us in a way that we could not even begin to repay you, Your Highness.”

“Take care of your family,” The wangsejabin says, smiling. “I shall take my leave now and wait for my husband. You are welcome to visit me when you are free.” Both Joochan and Donghyun bow, grateful to the wangsejabin, and they exchange their own love when they are alone.

But neither Jibeom nor Jaehyun are there to hear this conversation occur. They are in the kitchens, and it is almost like nothing has changed — bar for the chains around their necks that have matching rings threaded onto the silver. Still, to those that know the both of them, it is obvious. Daeyeol rolls his eyes at how enamoured they are with each other, and attends to the boiling mandu on his own.

Only the small things seem to have changed.

Their hands come together more often, and they still fit together perfectly, filling in the spaces. Sweeter names drop from their lips, murmured quietly only when they are alone without anyone else to witness them. It is easier to express their love now, and these words are said more often than anything else, in between the long days and hours that they do not see each other.

The small things that have changed mean everything to them.

“We are not so different anymore, are we?” Jibeom murmurs one slow autumn night. They are alone once again, and now he reaches down to take Jaehyun’s hand, thumbing over his knuckles. Their necks are bare, and he brings Jaehyun’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss to the ring, engraved with chrysanthemums. It is still unfamiliar but so cherished to the both of them.

“Oh, I think we still are different enough that we are our own people,” Jaehyun returns, in the same soft voice. “It is just that now, we are also in love.” He thinks their happiness must be mirrored on each other, because he can feel Jibeom’s smile in his chest. They come together again, and from now on there will be no more space between them.

Their candle is small, and it flickers in the strong wind, and it does not light up a whole room —

But it will not burn out.