Minjae pressed her fingertips against the delicate pulse of the young Princess, Prince Bongrim's ailing daughter, a child of just one year. The faintness of it was concerning but not alarming; her tiny body was weakened by the fever that had ravaged her for days, a clear sign of wind-heat, worsened by the dry, harsh winds of the season. The room buzzed, a hive of whispers stirring in the corners, but Minjae's world had narrowed to the steady rhythm of the pulse beneath her fingertips and the fever she was determined to break. Additionally, the child had slipped days ago, cutting her forehead on a sharp-edged toy. Though small, the wound became infected, likely worsening her fever.

Minjae prepared a pinellia root, ginger, and licorice brew, gently coaxing the child to drink. The slow drip of the water clock blended with the silence. Minjae's attention momentarily drifted as she wondered if she could truly trust Soo Hyun to carry out their plans—to search for the old letters and uncover the ties between Seung's father and his closest allies.

The fever finally broke as the lavender of dawn gave way to the muted blues and greys of the afternoon sky.

The little Princess stirred, reopening her wound, sending a ripple of alarm through the maids. Minjae examined the bleeding head wound and applied a golden bell root poultice before inserting acupuncture needles, steadying the Princess's breath. Reaching for the suturing needle, she felt a prickle on the back of her neck; faint voices and the unmistakable rhythm of approaching footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Minjae groaned inwardly and exchanged a glance with the little girl's mother. Princess Consort Pungan Bubuin, the wife of Grand Prince Bongrim, was slightly plump with chubby cheeks, intelligent eyes, and a kind nature. Although Minjae had been summoned previously to the Palace and had met all the royal women, no one had sought her prior to Consort Pungan. Having heard how Minjae had nursed the former Governor's son back to health, she called her when her own baby daughter didn't improve.

Minjae was well aware that the royal physicians had not taken kindly to her entering their hallowed space, and she hoped the territorial war would not prevent the young child from being treated.

Just as she pierced the skin gently, the door slid open abruptly, the padded footsteps of the socks-clad feet loud in their muted determination, and closed even before the attendant outside had finished announcing the presence of their new company.

Royal Consort Gwiin Jo swept in, Prince Bongrim entering beside her, followed by a heavy-set middle-aged Physician, his puffy face with layers of excess rolls arranged in a permanent scowl. Minjae had no doubt he was the one to carry his grumpy grievance to the new but powerful Royal Consort Gwiin Jo, who was widely known as King Injo's favourite concubine.

Gwiin Jo narrowed her eyes. "You summoned a commoner?" she asked, glaring at the Princess Consort.

The Princess Consort bowed her head though her hands trembled. "I…I did, Mother," the Princess Consort's voice faltered, though she quickly composed herself. "None of the palace physicians could help, so I thought it best to seek Queen Mother Jangryeol's guidance. With her permission… I summoned Physician Kim."

If something rattled Gwiin Jo more than being talked back to, it was the mention of the young Queen Jangryeol. She scoffed, her sharp gaze flicking dismissively toward Minjae. "With all due respect, Princess Pungan," Gwiin Jo's voice dripped with condescension, "Her Majesty's youth may have led to a… less informed decision. Do you truly think this village healer will succeed where the royal physicians failed?"

The Royal Physician nodded vigorously in agreement with the royal concubine, his jowls swinging so wildly that Minjae thought they would fall off.

Prince Bongrim looked at his wife, his lips pressed tight, eyes filled with disapproval. "You should have sought my permission before making such a grave decision, Consort Pungan."

The Princess Consort's voice quivered, but she didn't waver. "Your Highness, please forgive me," she said, "she's so little… the fever wouldn't break; it's been three days now. I had to act—" She faltered, glancing down at her daughter, "—for her sake."

"Three days?" Prince Bongrim sounded taken aback. It was not unusual for the Fathers to be oblivious to their children's day-to-day affairs, but his ignorance seemed neglectful.

Princess Consort nodded and bit her lip as she glanced at her husband, the unspoken disappointment evident in her eyes at his failure to trust her judgement.

Minjae felt a subtle shift in Prince Bongrim's posture and was sure there was a silent rebuke somewhere in her look that the husband and the father in him couldn't miss.

"Your Royal Highness, having a villager usurp a royal officer's position is preposterous!" The Royal Physician nearly collapsed under the weight of his complaint.

Minjae clenched her jaw, biting back the retort that burned on her tongue. It wasn't the first time she'd felt the weight of noble eyes scrutinising her every movement, but today, something felt sharper, more hostile. The familiar heat of frustration crept up her neck, but she forced it down, focussing on working the needles on the Princess's delicate skin. From the corner of her eyes, Minjae saw Princess Consort Pungan's knuckles turn white.

"I beg your pardon for my boldness, Your Highness," The Princess Consort spoke, her voice now carrying unmistakable steel, "If we had waited any longer, Your Highness, I fear the consequences would have been… irreversible. I trust the esteemed Royal Physician is already aware of this," The young mother then turned to Royal Consort Gwiin Jo and said, "Please, if Mother could be so kind as to let her continue."

Before the Royal Consort could respond, Minjae felt Prince Bongrim's gaze shift to the child lying on the bed. She heard a swift intake of breath as he took in the sight—while Minjae stitched the wound, the little girl remained calm, breathing softly without any sign of pain or distress. He crouched closer to his daughter, astonishment flickering across his features.

"How...how is she not in pain?" he murmured, his voice filled with disbelief. Minjae knew the man was now more the father than a royal cribbing over protocols. He hovered closer, torn between the desire to trust what he saw, his eyes reflecting a gnawing fear that something might still go wrong.

Gwiin Jo, surprised by his interruption, looked at the child and narrowed her eyes. "What are you saying?"

Prince Bongrim's gaze remained fixed on his daughter. "She isn't crying through the stitching..."

"But Your Highness -" The jowls tried interrupting again, but Prince Bongrim raised his hand in a gesture of silence.

A light flickered in his mahogany eyes as the Prince motioned Minjae to continue before he stood up. "Mother, I will speak with Princess Consort and see that she does not displease you again. But please let this woman continue for now."

Gwiin Jo paused, her eyes narrowing at the Princess Consort before looking back at Prince Bongrim. "Very well," she muttered, though displeasure radiated from her. "But if anything goes wrong, the responsibility falls on you." She cast a final cold glance at Minjae and the Princess Consort before turning sharply and leaving the room. The jowls scurried out after her.

As the door closed behind them, Prince Bongrim stood still, his gaze fixed on his daughter. Minjae didn't miss the subtle tightening of his jaw, the way his hand hovered for a moment as if he wanted to reach out but thought better of it. His eyes flickered, betraying an unease he masked with rigid composure. The way he stood—shoulders squared yet too still—hinted at a deeper turmoil. Minjae could sense the tension thrumming beneath his stoic exterior, like a man unused to being powerless, forced to entrust his daughter's well-being to a stranger.

"How is she not feeling any pain?" he finally asked, his voice quieter now.

Minjae, focused on her task, glanced up briefly and bowed her head. "I used Mafeisan, Your Highness," she explained in a calm, measured tone. "It numbs the area so the princess can sleep peacefully through the stitching."

"It's just not the herb," Bongrim gestured at the acupuncture needles on his daughter's head and face.

Minjae nodded. "It's a combination of both, Your Highness."

The Princess Consort, smoothing her daughter's little chubby arm, said, "Will she… really be all right now?"

Minjae offered a reassuring smile as she finished the final stitch. "Yes, Your Highness. The fever is receding, and the wound has been treated. She will recover fully."

The Princess Consort exhaled shakily, the lines around her mouth easing for the first time. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. The young mother turned to her husband. "Your Highness, I didn't know what else to do…"

Prince Bongrim's expression softened, the hard lines of worry fading as he gazed at his daughter's serene face. He turned to his wife, offering a slight nod of acknowledgement. "You did well."

The Princess Consort smiled weakly, relief shining through her fear.

"I have never seen anyone stitching a wound so fine," The Grand Prince remarked, tilting his head as he examined Minjae's work intently.

Very little fazed Minjae, but even she felt a flicker of unease under Grand Prince Bongrim's speculative gaze. When he complimented her and expressed his wish to grant her a favour in return for saving his daughter's life, Minjae, dulled by fatigue and unnerved by the Prince himself, grasped the first thought that crossed her mind—a plea she realised was bizarre the moment it left her lips. It was his turn to be taken aback by her odd request.

Her face still bore the traces of a smile at Prince Bongrim's dumbfounded expression, though even she didn't know what had made her ask for it. After all, she could have asked for anything....

Minjae's relief as she left the Palace was short-lived. She had barely finished splashing cool, soothing water on her face, allowing the briefest moments for her mind to unwind when a knock shattered the quiet. A breathless servant from the Governor's residence appeared at her threshold. "Physician Kim, you must come quickly! Lady I-On is in labour and has sent for you!"

∞

Chaos greeted Minjae as she was swiftly ushered into Kim I-On's chamber.

The midwife, calm but worried, sat at the foot of the bed, preparing herbal poultices, her lips moving in whispered prayers. Mugwort from a burning brazier filled the room, warding off evil spirits and blessing the birth. Steam rose from a simmering pot as a younger woman wiped the sweat from I-On's brow, her hands trembling.

In the dim room, Kim I-On bucked under the waves of pain, her fingers clutching thick ropes tied to the beams above her bed, holding on in agony as contractions tore through her. Her jaw clenched around a cloth coated with saliva, biting through the pain, her cries raw and guttural.

To Minjae's surprise, Soo Hyun was in the room, moving efficiently and handing herbs and washcloths to the midwife. She was clearly accustomed to birthing rooms. Minjae remembered they were supposed to meet at Kim I-On's place for their meal, meaning Seung was nearby. But there was no time for pleasantries or questions—Kim I-On was delivering two months early, and the situation was dire. Her body was not ready, and the blood seeping between her legs hinted at complications.

Minjae wasted no time, stepping to Lady I-On's side, her voice low and soothing. "Stay with me, Lady I-On. You're doing well," she murmured, her hands already moving to assess the bleeding. Reaching for her herbal pouch, she quickly prepared the necessary remedy and inserted acupuncture needles with deft precision, stabilising I-On's weakening energy while the midwife positioned the child.

"Breathe, my lady," Minjae said softly.

The midwife cast her a grateful look, though her focus remained on the labouring woman.

"Push, my lady," she urged. "A little more -"

Minjae had lost track of time when Jo Hee Bong junior finally made his appearance, his loud cry piercing through the air as he was delivered safely into the midwife's arms. The room, once tense, seemed to exhale with collective relief.

Minjae removed the cloth from Kim I-On's mouth, allowing her to take a deep, steady breath. Still pale but radiant with motherly tenderness, I-On exhaled softly as she held her newborn close.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"He is born so early," the young mother could not keep the anxiety out of her voice.

"It's a blessing in disguise, I-On-ah!" Minjae whispered, overwhelmed with joy, using the rare, endearing term for her friend. "He is a big boy," she said as she watched the baby wrap its tiny fingers around her finger. "Choi Se-min was born early, too. He has grown into a tall, healthy man. You have nothing to worry about." Her thoughts went to her brother. Born at seven months, he was only thirteen months younger than her.

Kim I-On's gaze met Minjae's for the first time since the ordeal. Minjae saw the fear lift and was replaced by the unmistakable glow of relief.

"I spoke to father about him," Kim I-On said, just as a post-birth contraction hit her.

Minjae knew her work was far from over. The blood had not stopped, and I-On's body was still at risk. While the midwife cared for the newborn, Minjae focused on the mother. This was where even the experienced midwife could not help—postpartum haemorrhage was beyond the scope of the usual remedies.

Minjae worked quickly, her hands a blur as she regulated I-On, inserting acupuncture needles with practised ease and massaging I-On's abdomen to help the uterus contract and ease out the clots.

I-On moaned softly, her strength waning. "We're almost there, my lady," Minjae whispered, her voice calm even as her hands moved swiftly.

As the bleeding slowed, colour returned to I-On's face. Soo Hyun silently passed Minjae a cup of medicinal tea, her respect for the young Physician and her rival evident in her steady gaze.

As the women breathed in a moment of peace, Soo Hyun quickly passed a small bundle of what looked like letters to Minjae. "These are the old letters I found from Lady Ryu's room earlier today. I had planned to leave these with Lady Kim for you to collect."

Minjae's eyes widened. "How did you manage to find these?"

"Everyone is used to my berating the servants for not cleaning well enough and then taking over their work myself," Soo Hyun smiled self-consciously. "I am planning to clean through a storeroom later today."

Minjae bit back a smile with difficulty and became aware of Kim I-On's gaze on them, filled with acrimony and rebuke.

Ignoring Soo Hyun, I-On directed her ire at Minjae, "I can't believe you are still carrying on with this!"

Soo Hyun flushed and excused herself to help the midwife who was carefully tending to the newborn. Minjae moved closer to Kim I-On and ran her hand on her head soothingly, quickly seeing past her scold to the concern that filled her eyes. "You should rest, I-On, I have it under control."

"So you are best friends now?" Kim I-On asked, her delicate brows drawn together over her cross eyes.

Minjae stopped short of rolling her eyes. "Kim I-On, are you jealous?"

With lips compressing into a straight line, Kim I-On muttered: "Don't deflect. I'm warning you, Choi Jina, you will be in so much trouble once Lord Lee finds out."

Minjae sighed. As if she didn't know. Thankfully, the midwife brought the baby back, preventing any further recriminations from the new mother, who forgot everything at the sight of her son.

"Is he healthy?" Kim I-On asked fervently.

"Ye, Milady, he's fine 'nd fi'rce," The midwife said, just as the newborn let out a lusty howl.

Watching her friend hold her newborn close to her chest unleashed something primal inside her, a pang so painful she almost forgot to breathe. It wasn't jealousy; she was happy for her friend, but Minjae had always wanted to be a mother, and she didn't know if she would ever have the good fortune to carry Seung's child.

The worst had passed, but Minjae knew Lady I-On would need days of careful monitoring and herbal treatments to fully recover. Kim I-On clasped Minjae's hand in gratitude as she whispered, "Khumao, Jina-ya."

Perhaps it was the bone-weary tiredness, or maybe it was the warmth of seeing her friend through a life-threatening situation and knowing she had done well that made Minjae sway and blink against the darkness as she walked out of the birthing chamber. Each step felt heavier than the last, the pull of sleep being a physical force now, tugging at her muscles, her eyelids. The image of her bed kept flashing in her mind, her mind seeking the comfort of the palanquin that would take her to it.

And walked straight into Lord Jo Hee-Bong, holding a blazing lantern to her face.

She dropped her head in a quick curtsy.

"Lady Choi! How is Kim I-On?"

Two things happened.

Minjae realised Jo Hee-Bong had recognised her, unaware she was supposed to be the physician and not Lee Seung's wife.

Minjae's heart lurched, her pulse quickening. Her mind scrambled for an explanation, but each thought scattered like dry leaves caught in a gust of wind.

Second, her mind registered Seung standing only a few feet behind Lord Jo, his brows furrowed, and she wondered if he had heard. A wave of dread rolled through her.

"She is doing well, My Lord. You have a son," Minjae said without thinking.

Jo Hee-Bong's face broke up in a relieved smile so big that Minjae felt it would dislodge his jaws.

"I am grateful you were there to support her through this," Jo Hee Bong said. "In the absence of her mother and any elderly woman, having her childhood friend by her side meant a lot." He turned to Seung and continued, "Lord Lee, I owe you both an apology for being rude to Lady Choi when you came in earlier in the evening. I was remiss in my greeting. I see that she is not only even more beautiful but more gracious and kind than I remember -"

Minjae swayed. Every noise seemed louder, every flicker of light harsher. The voices around her buzzed in her ears like an overwhelming swarm, and focusing on the present felt like grasping at smoke. Involuntarily, her fingers reached her temples.

Her knees buckled. She heard a curse and suddenly found herself against a solid chest, the familiar masculine scent filling her nostrils. She looked up to see Seung's worried eyes looking at her, and she smiled before the world went dark.

When the midwife came out running, bearing the good news that Lord Jo could hold his son, she exclaimed in worry at the sight of Seung striding away towards his family palanquin. "Aigoo! What done 'appened to Kim Minjae? Ain't that Commander Lee ov'r there? Reckon it's true, then," her eyes gleamed with nosiness. Then, as if remembering something, she looked back and sighed.

"What's true?" Lord Jo asked.

"Dari, t'ain't my place, but we all know Commander Lee's sweet on Physician Kim, but his wife isn't bad neither. Lucky man, he is." Then she remembered who she was gossiping to and immediately backtracked. "Beg yer pardon, Dari, I mean, sure, Lord Lee's just helpin' our Minjae-ah. She done saved Milady's life. Poor soul looked plum worn out."

"What are you saying, midwife Jung Haneul? She is Lady Choi," Lord Jo said, pointing at Seung's retreating figure.

"Animida Dari!" The midwife looked shocked. "She be our dear physician f'om the stead. It was her that saved Milady's life today, I'll be thankful forever, I will. Commander Lee's missus still inside," she replied. There was nothing worse for a midwife than losing a mother or a child. She didn't notice Lord Jo's confused expression, and neither remembered much once she handed the new father his bundle of joy, his heir.

∞

A harried Kim Da Bom opened the door, stepping aside with an unwomanly curse at the sight of Minjae's limp form in Seung's arms. Woo Sari hovered like a clucking hen somewhere behind Da Bom's impressive frame, making un-hen-like noises, both women following Seung into Minjae's chamber. He gently deposited Minjae into her bed, his eyes drinking in the exhaustion on her face.

"She is passed out," Seung said.

"The woman never sleeps, never rests! I don't know how she is alive!" Kim Da Bom was livid.

Guilt pinched Seung's ears. He watched Woo Sari fuss over Minjae, wiping her forehead and hands and then covering her with a quilt with so much love that he felt jealous.

He pinched his nose. "I am sorry, Kim Da Bom," he said, "It's partly my fault. Please don't let her go out today."

"As if she would ever listen to anyone!" Kim Da Bom fumed.

A wry smile lifted the corners of Seung's mouth. "I suppose that's true. Regardless, tie her down if needed."

Woo Sari looked up, bowed and said something incomprehensible. Seung and Da Bom looked at her in askance. Realising they could not understand what she said, Woo Sari raised both hands near her head, palms open and facing slightly downward as if gripping an invisible object above her head. Her fingers were spaced out, possibly mimicking the shape and size of the object. She then stood tall, lifting her chin slightly.

"A Crown?" Seung asked.

Woo Sai nodded vigorously. She pointed to sleeping Minjae and alternately moved her index and middle fingers as if walking.

Seung's brows furrowed, and then his eyes cleared. "Minjae went to the Palace?"

Woo Sari bobbed her head and bent her arms as if cradling an invisible baby close to her chest.

"Ah! She went to treat a royal child," Seung deduced, "she is due for a return visit."

Woo Sari smiled, nodding as relief filled her features.

"I will take care of it," Seung said reassuringly.

Woo Sari gave him a shy smile and then motioned him to stay, and before he could react, she hurried out, closing the door softly behind her.

A long sigh left him. He shifted closer to Minjae, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest. He could spend a lifetime watching her breathe, feeling the ache of wanting her well, alive, and safe in his world. Seung gently smoothed a stray hair out of her smooth forehead, free of creases, wondering what she was dreaming of.

She moved as he rose, trapping his hand under her cheek. Her eyes fluttered as he extracted his hand, and she clasped his hand between hers and snuggled closer to it.

"I have to go, but I'll see you tonight," he murmured.

She smiled and nodded, still asleep.

"Dream of me," Seung whispered, his head bent close to her as he removed his hand gently from under her face.

Just as he left, Woo Sari returned. His mouth twitched as she almost doubled over in her greeting to him, a far cry from her chopping board antics from the last time. She carried a hot stone wrapped in a cloth. Seung took in the scene for a few minutes as Woo Sari gently inserted it under the quilt for Minjae's lower back. The girl instinctively knew what Minjae needed.

Pausing at the door frame for a moment longer than necessary, Seung finally stepped outside. The thought of Woo Sari's peculiar loyalty to Minjae clung to him. Even if he considered that Minjae had brought her back from the jaws of death, the woman's devotion seemed almost too fierce, especially when she had never once shown the slightest interest in Choi Jina, her former mistress. It was strange—unnatural even—for a former slave, who had been so close to her mistress growing up and was supposed to accompany Choi Jina to his household, to act in such a way, particularly when her husband was showing such an interest in another woman. Or the fact that she didn't seem worried about being discovered.

At all.

∞

Seung was not far off in his deductions about Minjae. She was up a few hours later, refreshed, with a slight smile tugging at her lips as she entered Kim I-On's chamber. A quick visit to the Royal quarters earlier confirmed what Minjae presumed - the little girl had finally eaten a healthy breakfast, and she had been playing with her older sister, who was happily sharing her toys when Minjae visited, tugging at the bandage on her head once in a while. The Princess Consort was delighted to see Minjae and gifted her a delicate silver hairpin as a reward.

Kim I-On barely moved from her position of deep sleep, though she acknowledged Minjae with a ghost of a happy smile. After cooing over the curious baby with lustrous curls and intense eyes that followed her movements with his unfocused gaze, Minjae left the mother and the child with a promise to check on them the following day.

No sooner had she stepped out that a servant came to her with the news that the Governor had summoned her to his chamber.

Her stomach knotted like a rope fraying under strain.

The probability of the Governor recognising her was high, but the possibility of his associating the remote island's glorified servant as the erstwhile daughter of Joseon's most powerful man was low.

Still, she could not hold back the shaking of her calves while taking her bow and taking a discreet seat as far from the Governor as possible.

Minjae sent a quick glance at the older man. Sharp eyes gleamed beneath heavy brows, occupied with scrolls that lay open on the low desk he sat behind, the quill in his hand moving leisurely against the coarse surface of the rice paper. Age had softened the hard edge of his jaw, but the warmth of one of the gentlest memories of Minjae's childhood lingered in the air and filled her insides with nostalgia.

Kim Tae-Oh was the kind of father every little girl dreamt of. Protective and indulgent, he had been a permanent presence in Kim I-On's life growing up and a source of comfort to Minjae by extension.

Minjae tried to focus on the aristocratic lines on the Ming vase that sat delicately on one of the shelves while the Governor finished his writing.

When a servant brought her a tray bearing a small wooden box, she accepted it gratefully, waiting to be addressed by the Governor, eager to leave the chamber.

"I hear I owe it to you for saving my daughter's life, Kim Minjae," the Governor finally spoke, his voice as gentle in its gravely tone as she remembered. Memories of his implicit support in the court the day she had spoken for Seung and against her father flickered in her chest. "Please accept this gift as a token of my gratitude," Kim Tae Oh said. Minjae nodded and bowed. As customs warranted, it would be rude to open the gift in front of the giver, but whatever it was, Minjae knew she would always treasure it.

"It's my duty, Your Excellency," she said.

"I would not have credited someone so young with such skill," the Governor said, a slight sharpness to his voice that was not present before. Minjae could feel his piercing regard. Her fingers tightened around the small wooden box he had given her, but her heart pounded with a growing sense of unease.

"I've been fortunate to learn from good teachers," Minjae answered cautiously.

She felt rather than see it, but she felt the air shift, a rough intake of breath, and a clearing of the throat. "I would have never..." the Governor said, more to himself than to her.

Minjae's breath caught in her throat. She could feel the tension building in her chest, every muscle in her body on alert. She dared not move or breathe too deeply lest she betray herself.

"Kim Minjae, you've served my daughter well. However, I would like you to stop visiting my daughter going forward," Kim Tae Oh said.

Her eyes snapped up to meet the Governor's just like that. And just like that, she saw recognition, kindness, and steely resolve in the eyes that cut through pretence with a glance.

Minjae felt light seep out of her eyes.

"It's not personal, child, and I hope you understand," Kim Tae-Oh met her gaze without guile. "You've done well to survive this long. But secrets have a way of finding their way to the surface, don't they? If I were you, I would lay low and not visit the families stationed on the island. Too many are now from the Royal Court, and your presence puts everyone who might suspect foul play of your father with Lord Lee Seung in an awkward position. I presume, by some miracle, Lord Lee is unaware that the woman he thinks of as his wife is a replacement for the real one?"

No sound made past the lump in her throat. A tear that slid down her cheek unbidden was reply enough for the wise man.

Lord Kim let out a sigh. "If you have thoughts about reclaiming your identity, perish the thought. You made a choice five years ago. Perhaps your father acted out of desperation to save face. Even if it's not true, it changes nothing. No one will ever rise against him. I certainly will not. You have built a good life, and it's foolish to imperil it. Don't try to catch time that has already slipped away from your fingers. Understand that sometimes, for the safety and regeneration of the spirit, darkness is bliss. In that same light, I forbid you to endanger my idealistic daughter."