The clang of swords echoed through the training courtyard as Seung and Junho engaged in a spirited sparring session. It had become a near-daily ritual for them, a chance to sharpen their skills while blowing off steam amidst the chaos.

Junho stepped lightly, his blade held in a relaxed guard, eyes alight with playful challenge. "If this commander of ours is half as skilled with a sword as he is with excuses, I would have no fear for the fate of Ganghwa."

Seung sniggered, parrying a quick strike with ease. "He'd probably manage to injure himself before the enemy even drew its blades."

Ganghwa had been successfully barricaded, but neither Seung nor Sim Junho was letting up. Captain Park, who spearheaded the island's naval defence against the mighty Qing's offence, continued to stand out, his determination and capability a crucial anchor in the chaos.

The army commander, however, was a constant thorn in their side, and their frustration at the ineffective preparation grew by the day. The entire weight of keeping the enemy forces at bay fell on the naval command; the unpreparedness of the ground forces demoralised them.

"And guess what our brilliant commander said to the troops today?" Junho muttered as they reset their positions.

Seung arched a brow, his arm extended for a thrust. "Something profoundly strategic, I'm sure."

"'Keep your spirits up, and the Qing won't dare come ashore,'" Junho recounted dryly, deflecting another blow.

"Apparently, he thinks good cheer is the key to repelling an invasion fleet."

Junho snorted, his stance loosening as he let out a laugh. "Perhaps he should write a treatise—' The Art of Losing Wars: A Guide to Wishful Thinking.' He's already mastered the first chapter: 'Ignore Reality Entirely.'"

Seung's irritation deepened as he pressed his attack, forcing Junho to step back. "The man refuses to organise his troops. They were not even rationing supplies yet. He's convinced the shallow waters of the Ganghwa estuary are an impenetrable barrier. Why waste effort preparing your troops when you can simply hope the enemy gets stuck in the mud and floats away?"

"At this rate, we should start a wager—what's more likely, the Manchu retreating out of sheer boredom or our army commander getting stuck in a tree again? I heard he once thought he could outrun a boar."

Seung sighed, lowering his sword. "If only the boar had been quicker. It might've saved us all some trouble."

Junho chuckled, saluting with his blade before they resumed their sparring.

The two circled, their movements fluid, yet controlled. Junho feinted left before lunging to the right, only for Seung to counter with a swift riposte, his strike landing with a sharp clack against Junho's guard.

Junho gave him a withering look but couldn't help the faintest twitch of a smile at Seung's dexterity with a sword. However, before he could even draw a breath to admire his young opponent, the sharp crack of their swords meeting filled the space, the force of the clash driving Junho back a step. Dust rose in soft puffs under his boots as he recovered, circling Seung with the agility of a seasoned fighter, but Seung already had the opening he needed. With a sudden burst of speed, Seung disarmed Junho, the older man's blade clattering to the ground.

Sim Junho sighed.

"Do you have to be this brutal to someone older than you, Royal Commander Lee Seung? It's disrespectful."

A chuckle accompanied Seung's lift of a brow. "Are we etching our age on our forehead when we fight the Qing? Just so they are respectful of their elders," he quipped.

"Rascal," Junho said good-humouredly, retrieving his weapon.

The air between them crackled with the scent of sweat and the faint tang of cold steel. Seung moved with a precision born of discipline, his strikes as sharp and relentless as the dawn sun breaking over the courtyard walls. Junho, for all his jesting, matched him blow for blow, his boots sliding on the dirt with each calculated dodge.

Despite the absurdity of their situation, the levity in Junho's words—and the rhythm of their practice—gave Seung a fleeting moment of reprieve, even if the challenges ahead loomed larger than ever.

In the end, the Royals who mattered never came to Ganghwa. The Barbarians had cut off the island from the mainland and sent emissaries demanding surrender. King Injo and his court had fled to the Namhan Mountain Fortress (Namhansanseong, 남한산성). The news was that it faced a significant siege by the Qing forces. Supplies within the fortress ran low, and the invading army heavily outnumbered the defenders. The troops at Namsan Fort were holding on, but the cold, coupled with a lack of supplies and dwindling troops, affected the situation to be dire.

The new Governor's son had come to the island with Qing's demand that they surrender immediately. Seung had met him a few times previously, and Lord Kim was an understated, devoted scholar who hated the Qing with a passion. Sending him with such an absurd demand was not just a show of disregard but an outright mockery of the eminent scholar's dignity.

Never before had Seung wished the Grand Prince would hold more political and military power than he actually did. The man was a force to reckon with, but his hands were effectively tied by his father's command to stand down against the army.

The stand-off was now in its third week. After the initial terror that had gripped the island, acceptance had settled over. The villagers prepared themselves for the worst, but every morning, they greeted the sun like they had done the entirety of their lives with a prayer for hope, well-being, and blessings from their ancestors.

∞

Lifting the lid off the large pot, Minjae peered in to see how far the soup was cooked. Since the day Minjae had punished Soo Hyun, the woman had retreated into the shadows, keeping to her duties to attend to Lady Ryu. Gil-ae had maintained a respectful silence. However, Minjae finally opted not to say anything more about the subject. It was evident the war weighed heavily on everyone's mind, so it could be safely assumed letting go of internal strife was a clever thing to do.

It had taken almost sacrificing everything in her life to attain the happy space Minjae was in with Seung, and nothing was worth jeopardising it. Not even an unhappy sister-in-law. Yes, she did wish things were better, but then they had a lifetime to work on it.

She walked around and over the scrap buckets full of kitchen waste sitting on the floor and dropped her soiled apron in the washing pile. Picking up her medicine bag, she made her way out to the waiting palanquin.

Her routine calls had now shortened to very few people in the villages. With war raging offshore, Seung was terrified that if they came under attack, she would be caught in the middle without having enough time for him to be at her side. Still, there were long-term patients she needed to see, and in any case, it was impossible to be in the house with the continuous hostility she faced from Gil ae.

"Physician Cho is severely short-staffed. The naval skirmishes are piling up injuries," Minjae said as she unwound next to Seung. He made sure to have all his meals in her room. She gently fanned him while the maids occasionally brought water or tea.

The water skirmishes were now a daily affair. The supplies to the army on the island were effectively cut off. The monks in the mountains managed to get news, but it wasn't encouraging.

"I forbid you to even think of it, Minjae. You know where I stand on that," Seung said quietly.

At any other time, Minjae would have bristled at his tone. But these were not normal times. Seung's paranoia was well-founded, and she could not fault him for it. Even if it were not for the royal edict that forbade women from attending to men outside of their kin, the peril of working at the army base alone was cause enough for caution. Should the Qing soldiers descend upon the island, the base would inevitably become their earliest prize of conquest. They were known to kidnap physicians and medicine women and carry them away.

"I understand. I feel burdened, though, they must be so overworked," she said with an unhappy sigh.

"I will check on them tomorrow. The Commander does not like me much, but his second-in-command is a remarkable man. I will see if the physicians need more help."

A faint smile graced her lips as Minjae nodded.

"You cooked today," Seung observed, relishing a piece of fish, his chopsticks cleaning the bowl.

Minjae's cheeks bloomed with pleasure. "I stay at home most of the time. Eomoni loves my cooking, so I try to do more." She didn't add that she had seen Gil-ae struggle with the increased workload that the constant shortage of supplies brought and felt she had to step in. Minjae had learned to cook with less and be thrifty a long time back.

"Is there anything you cannot do well, woman?" Seung asked with a mock disgruntlement.

Minjae gave it serious thought. "Painting and knitting are not my strengths," she said.

A maid came in to refill a cup.

"You are good at that one thing that really matters," Seung said casually, working on his bowl of rice.

"Stitching?" She pursed her lips, the fan casting soft, moving shadows on the floor.

Carefully setting his chopsticks aside with an exaggerated air of thoughtfulness, Seung looked up at her, his eyes hooded, a playful smile lifting the corner of his mouth.

"No," he said. "Stealing."

She folded the fan and rested it on her lap, her brows furrowed in confusion. "What? I have never -"

"You have. My heart," Seung said, clutching his chest.

A furious blush covered Minjae.

Something fulfilling bloomed in Seung's chest. He motioned the servants to leave. The maids standing quietly in the corner exchanged knowing smiles before bowing and slipping out of the chamber, leaving the two alone.

"Come here, wife," Seung said.

Carefully placing the fan on one of the tables, Minjae came to sit beside him. Seung picked up his spoon and scooped up the rice, putting it in her mouth.

"You are not finished yet," Minjae protested, though her mouth closed on the utensil, the soft texture of the rice dissolving in her mouth. As was the norm, Minjae would eat after Seung finished his meal. Like every household, they too were now frugal, scraping and saving every morsel of food and pickling everything in sight.

Without saying anything else, Seung changed to chopsticks, picked up several pieces of fish, and offered them to her, keeping his eyes locked with her. His eyes followed her mouth as it closed on the end of chopsticks to accept the food before they travelled back to her eyes, his gaze locked with her.

There was something in his eyes that Minjae could not read. It wasn't lust; it wasn't even adoration. His posture shifted subtly—shoulders firm, chin lifted—yet the intensity in his gaze softened as though a fire burned there, tempered by an unspoken tenderness. The space between them seemed to hum, charged with the quiet force of his resolve.

Her fingers travelled on their own accord to trace his jaw. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He turned into her palm, kissing it softly. "Sometimes it feels like I am in a dream, and -"

Exerting pressure on his jaw, she turned his face towards her. "Dari! I am supposed to say things like that," she smiled. "You can't even compare the number of times I have dreamt about you. I have had years of head start on you. Remember?"

"I am sorry I wasn't there, Minjae -"

"We cannot be the prisoners of our past. You told me that," she said gently.

He closed his eyes, pulling her closer. "The war is getting to me," he confessed. "I want to be out there, clashing steel, to stop them from taking what doesn't belong to them."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Minjae wrapped her arms around his neck, shifting closer. Seung sighed and laid his head on her lap. She removed the pin holding his headband together and released the knot on top of his head, running her fingers through his long, silky strands.

"I'll wash your hair tomorrow," she said.

Seung closed his eyes while her fingers continued their gentle ministrations on his scalp. She knew his mind was a chaotic nerve of worry; the ever-present weight of the war settled heavily onto his shoulders. Nothing could ever effectively drown the roar of cannons or the silent dread of dwindling supplies.

"You spent so much time with the Barbarians. You speak their language. Did you make connections, too?" She asked, in an effort to divert his mind but also out of genuine curiosity.

Seung shifted his shoulders, folding his hands over his shoulders. "I made some good friends. The common villagers are nice people who are just going about their way of life. Their life is hard, especially due to the climate. There can be a lot of infighting between the clans, but they are normal people like everyone else. In fact, they are a lot more sociable, and their women enjoy a lot more freedom. They can live independently if they want. Many have fought in wars alongside men. That was genuinely surprising to me. That is when I realised how women in Joseon lack agency. But they are brutal in wars, especially the Mongolian mercenaries in their army."

"You sound impressed by those women," Minjae teased.

Seung opened one eye and looked at her. "You would have fared much better there compared to here," he said. "But life is easier for men in Joseon."

"You seemed to have enjoyed your role as a merchant spy. Why did you leave?"

Seung went quiet for a while. Minjae wondered if he had fallen asleep.

"I was called back when His Highness, Grand Prince Bongrim, joined the troops in disguise. He insisted I accompany him to a particular campaign that we lost," he paused as if thinking through his next words carefully. "If I had rejoined as a merchant, someone could have recognised me."

Instinctively, Minjae knew he wasn't telling her the entire truth. "But would the reverse also not be true? Were the people you met as a merchant also in the troops you fought with?"

Seung cleared his throat, and a sudden stain of pink appeared on his throat, and his ears were inked red.

"There was, um, a woman soldier in the army who took an interest in me," He said, clearing his throat.

"A woman soldier?"

Seung sat up, not meeting her eyes. He picked up the teapot, poured the ginger jasmine tea into cups, and handed one to her.

The tea that always calmed his nerves.

He sipped carefully, still not meeting her eyes. "She was a high-ranking woman. A widow. She was quite used to getting her way."

"You had a relationship with her?" Minjae asked.

"It was nothing serious," he said, turning to face her, his ears ever redder. "No woman has made any impression on me before you. She was there, and I didn't have you back then."

Her eyes narrowed. "But it was serious enough for you not to go back to being a spy, and the Joseon powers allowed you."

"She was a peace broker. I made her happy, and it suited the men in important robes to let me be," he shrugged.

"But once she left, what stopped you from going back?" Minjae was now like a dog with a bone, her insides twisting with a black rope of jealousy at the unknown woman.

Seung downed the cup in one motion. "She didn't leave. If I had returned to be a spy, she would have come after me, and our ruse would have been destroyed. She had already started digging about me. To stop her from getting suspicious, I stayed back."

"With her," Minjae said, fighting the sharp pang in her chest, wondering if the unknown woman had been as relentless and commanding as Seung described.

Seung nodded.

"How long?"

"Eleven months," Seung answered.

Minjae suddenly stood up. "You never told me you stayed with a woman before me. You had a concubine!"

"No! I didn't! If anything, I was her-" Seung sighed. "It does not matter. She was never important to me."

"So you hated being with her?" Minjae asked sarcastically.

Seung flushed. "It's not that simple. She was...a necessary part of that life, but that's all she ever was. She means nothing to me now."

"So you were forced?"

Seung looked away, rubbing the back of his neck, his breathing coming in short puffs. "No. But she was in a position to make demands on my time and person."

"The Qing have attacked us, and by all counts, they are winning. What if she demands you to be with her again?"

"No one can take you away from me, Minjae, not even a Princess," Seung said. His face was suddenly pale.

"She is a Princess?" Minjae asked, her face reflecting the colourless canvas of Seung's skin.

Standing up next to her, Seung stepped closer, his long, waist-length hair whispering around his shoulders, giving him an ethereal look.

"Yes. She is beautiful and talented, but she knows it. It only makes her mean and entitled."

"But if you stayed that long, you must have liked her," Minjae argued, feeling sick for dragging the conversation but not able to stop. She turned away from him, biting her lips, feeling an unwelcome pressure behind her eyes.

Seung's chest touched her shoulder, his breath heated on her skin around her ear, but he didn't touch her. "I don't want to hurt you, but I won't lie either. I admit I didn't protest much in the beginning. In fact -" he paused, and Minjae could hear him swallow, "I chased her too. Women served a purpose, and she was easy on the eyes. I admired her ability to broker peace. She was charming when she wanted to be."

"Did you love her?" Minjae asked, her voice shaky.

Seung placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. He hooked a long finger under her chin and lifted it so he could look into her eyes, and a smile spread on Seung's face, though the light in his eyes was dimmer than usual. "No. Back then, I didn't know what love was. She was...a distraction, a way to pass the time. I didn't think of the consequences because I didn't believe I had anyone waiting for me. Within a few weeks, the charm wore off, and I wanted to leave but could not. It was almost like I was hostage to the treaty, though I also became privy to a lot of information that was useful to us. Once His Highness snuck back to fight with the troops, I had my chance to leave her and never looked back. It's only because I was with her I realised what I feel for you is different." He gently framed her face with his palms. "Even the thought of being away from you tears me apart. It suffocates me to a point where it chokes me."

"Would it have made a difference to her if - if you knew I was waiting for you here?"

"I would not have touched her. I would have no reason to." He dragged Minjae closer, engulfing her in his massive arms.

"Why did she not come after you?"

"I don't know. Maybe she got tired of me, too. Or perhaps she didn't want to incur the wrath of the important people or bring attention to herself. I also wasn't the only man she liked; I was just with her the longest. But there was something else that made me stay back. During some of the skirmishes our troops had embroiled with, the mercenaries targeted women, and I wasn't always able to help them."

Minjae's arms went around him, her cheek resonating with his erratic heartbeats in his chest, making her aware of a turmoil she wasn't sure was caused only by his memories.

"Did she help rescue those women?" Minjae asked.

"Only when it took her fancy, and she didn't stub any important toe," he said bitterly. "I was unaware, even back then, how much you affected me. You were there in some form, present with me all the time. Your bracelet, just the thought that I was able to reach you before those men could-" Seung swallowed, gripping her tightly, rocking her gently. "The image of your escaping those two men on that hill comforted me and stopped me from feeling completely worthless," he whispered.

Minjae shuddered at the raw despair she heard in his voice. It was something that had always united them - rescuing helpless, abused women.

"You could never be worthless," Minjae said. "But it's hurtful you never mentioned this before."

"I don't have an excuse. I was everything a Joseon scholar should never be."

She gave a mirthless laugh against his chest. "You are allowed other women. I am not allowed to be jealous."

"But you already know how much I detest that line of thinking."

She had known about his past, but hearing about it like this hurt. "Were there others?"

A long pause. "I never hid that from you."

Minjae pushed at his chest. "You told me they were meaningless. Living with a woman for months is not meaningless, no matter how you word it."

"I am sorry for not telling you. I didn't want you to think poorly of me or give it more importance than it warranted. But there was no one like her," Seung assured her.

Minjae's eyes widened, and she flushed, turning away from him, but not before his face lost colour. Again.

He tried to pull her back in his embrace, but she pushed him away.

"It came out wrong! She was the only one I was forced to spend longer than a night!" Seung raked his fingers through his long tresses agitatedly.

"All others were just.." he stopped, realising he was making it worse.

He looked so flustered and worried that Minjae felt all the outrage drain away. But she didn't say anything. There was no reason why she could not continue to torture him a little bit longer.

"They were all older women looking for an escape for a night or so. Mostly widows. I stayed away from married women and unmarried girls. I never wanted a concubine or to settle until I met you. Now I realise I always had a home to come back to, if only had I looked harder. I just didn't know it then."

He must have seen her shoulders relax because he reached out for her again.

This time, she let him draw her back in his arms, her back flush against him.

She sighed. It was hard to stay angry with Seung, especially while his lips grazed her neck, swanning her nerve endings on a neverending song. His hands reached around to tug at the strings of her hanbok.

She turned in his arms. "Thank you for telling me, Dari. I realise you could have hidden it from me."

"I wish I could undo my past, Minjae. I wish I never had looked at another woman. Nothing ever brought me peace, and the temporary relief was never truly worth it," he said. "You are my anchor to my soul. You are everything I ever need."

The pleading in his voice fell like a sharp shard in her heart. Minjae leaned her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I believe you, Dari. But next time, tell me everything. I want to know every part of you—the good and the bad."

"I promise," he whispered.

Their lips clung to each other in desperate need. Their emotions ran high, and none of them could wait to claim the other. Clothes flew, limbs tangled. Crazed moans filled the chamber as Seung told Minjae in every way he could how much she meant to him.

"You left bruises on my neck!" Minjae exclaimed a while later as she combed her hair after changing into her nightwear.

Seung smiled, blowing small circles of air on the marks he had made. To ensure she was his. "Only on your neck?" He playfully encircled her, his large palm engulfing one side of her chest. "I can recall at least two other-"

She shrugged him off her shoulder in mock anger though her heart overflowed with emotions.

"Why do you have to wear clothes?" he complained.

"Dari!"

To her dismay and delight, she ended up wearing none anyway. Seung slept little, and he was a light sleeper. He was also needy. Sometimes, Minjae wondered if the war weighed more on him than he let on.

"What do you think will happen after the war ends?" Minjae asked, cocooned in Seung's embrace.

Seung sucked in a sharp breath and tried to hide how much the war had unnerved him.

"Depends on what terms it does. Qing is in no mood for compromise. It will take a miracle for them to leave without destroying everything if they win."

"You spoke about how they treat women. Are you afraid for us?"

Seung's hand slid from her breast to her waist as he pulled her closer. His fingers dug into her waist. His scratchy jaw nuzzled the soft skin of her shoulders. His leg moved restlessly against hers.

Minjae could smell his fear and feel his anxiety at her question.

"I have a plan to escape and be out of reach if we are attacked," Minjae said, rightly reading his fear for her safety in case of an invasion and the island falling into the enemy's hands. The thought of the Qing mercenaries targeting innocent villagers made her chest tighten with unease.

Seung drew away from her, his hands clasping her shoulders while he turned her on her back so he could look down at her face. "What do you mean?"

The soft silver light streaming through the window drew fascinating lines across his face. She played with the wisps of hair spread across his shoulders, the strands sensually soft against the tips of her fingers. It was one of those rare days he had slept with his hair open.

"I can arrange for their escape. The monks can take some of the women and the children in and hide them in the mountains."

His eyes lit up. "Would that be possible without the Qing soldiers finding out?"

"They are all engaged in battles, are they not? They attack temples but wouldn't go too far into the forests. I'll need Han So Ye. She is the only one the monks will trust."

Seung nodded, his eyes thoughtful. Hopeful. He laid back down on his back and drew her closer, her head in the crook of his shoulder and left arm, his palm lightly resting on her waist, her body turned towards him.

Minjae traced his chest with her fingers, drawing absent-minded shapes. "But if we let too many women leave at once, they will get suspicious, and the Barbarians will get the hint and will follow the trail. We need to do it slowly. Get the low-profile ones out earlier - pregnant and the young unmarried girls."

Seung's mouth pinched. "You, Gil-ae and Mother must leave. I am sure if we involve His Excellency, he would want Kim-I-On to leave as well."

Minjae could feel the increase of his heartbeats under her palms. "We have to be clever about this. If we make it too known, someone will let the secret out. We have the people who are working with the Qing, and they already know about the rescue network. But the fact that no one approached the monks means they don't know all of it."

Seung didn't seem convinced. "I can't have you take such a risk again without knowing you are safe. Maybe I am selfish, but you, Gil-ae and Mother are the three people I am most concerned with. And I can't lose you again."

"But you speak about taking the sword against the enemy. That means I could lose you, too. We must think positively."

"You have to be one of the first ones out of here and in the mountains or wherever the monks will hide you."

Minjae paused her fingers on his chest and raised her head, placing a soft kiss on his blade-like jaw. "I have a hiding place in the forest. The entrance is not visible to anyone not looking for it. It can hold about a dozen women if the need arises. No one knows about it. I used to go there in the beginning when things got too much."

After a brief pause, Seung said, "Pack a basket of food tomorrow. I want to see this place."

"How were you ever a spy?" Minjae laughed. "I could hold a banner to announce to everyone where it's located. You are a little hard to miss."

"I know how to blend in if I want," Seung said and turned to her. "We are going tomorrow. And now I need you to be a dutiful wife -"

"I am too sore!" Minjae hissed.

"Oh! All right," Seung said, with a tad hint of disappointment.

Minjae smiled and raised herself on his chest, giving him a soft kiss. "I didn't say I wasn't ready. We still need to work on producing an heir for you," she teased, a playful glint in her eyes.

Seung flipped her on her back, his fingers tickling her sides. Minjae giggled, pushing at his chest, knowing it would be another night she would not get too much sleep either.

She didn't mind it at all.