"One's throat was slit, the other thrown off from the bank to the rocks below," Wang Jung said, swiping his nose against the cold air and pulling his collars close to his ears.

The Royal Investigation Bureau officials were carting off the bodies for identification. People were standing around, gawking and whispering, their faces frozen in expressions of shock, horror and curiosity.

Seung had fabricated a story about losing the two dead men and the woman they had been following. Seung was aware of Wang Jung's probing glances though he refrained from asking questions.

Kang Do had vanished.

Seung couldn't help but feel a wave of relief wash over him as he saw the miscreants being neutralised. It meant that Minjae was safe, at least for the time being, from whatever she had been running from the previous night.

"What do we do now?" Wang Jung asked.

His thoughts went unbiddenly to the woman he had left behind in the inn, who he wasn't entirely sure would still be there when he returned. He wanted to run back to her, make sure she didn't leave without him, but he still had work. Seung realised one weak thread of the interlaced fabric of the web had unspooled. Somewhere in the midst of it, Minjae's obscure past was intertwined.

"Master Choi needs to give us some quick answers," Seung said.

Getting past the scholars and masters at Choi Se-min's School of Scholars was surprisingly easy for Seung. His fame as a scholar preceded him, which was helpful in such situations. Given how far removed his life was from being a Confucian scholar, he found such situations spectacularly funny. Few discerned the difference. What mattered was that he had once aced those tests, forever cementing his place in the scholarly fame roster. Paying proper respects to proud teachers and a few pointers for succeeding in jeonsi to the students granted him access to the inner quarters. Afterwards, it was easy for the two scholars who kept tabs on Se-min to keep everyone else busy while Seung snuck into Se-min's chamber.

It was unfortunate that Choi Se-min was away. Even more unfortunately, his room didn't reveal much. It was a sparse room that Se-min shared with another scholar. Long hanji hangings quoted profound philosophical texts. Two desks and several shelves flanked two narrow, sanitised beds in each corner of the warm winter floor. Potted plants gave life to the otherwise austere set-up.

Seung quickly went through Choi Se-min's desk and shelves. Other than meeting Minjae, nothing indicated Se-min was involved in anything clandestine. And Seung wanted to bet every last drop of blood in his body for Minjae to be as far away from espionage as the desert from water.

So, how did his name appear on the list?

Quick scans of the scrolls and books revealed many different writings, but nothing suspicious. Then, shoved behind stacks of books were more scrolls, which revealed rolled paper hidden within.

They unrolled into sketches. Beautiful, bold, detailed sketches. Some depicted village lives, others filled with flourishing strokes depicting life within the royal palaces. Birds, strays, and even scholars going about their tasks found a place.

Choi Se-min was a remarkably talented artist. One particular sketch caught his eye: a little girl embroidering while a matronly woman watched her with indulgence. Seung's lips quivered with a fond smile. It was likely his little sister, who had gifted him the scrap of her creation the other day. Others had one teen and a young boy in a sword-fighting stance with a few cheerleaders looking on, a few more of another little girl and a baby surrounded by servants, and more sketches with the older woman and the little girl in the embroidery sketch, some with the girl dragging a large cloth doll.

A memory jogged, his brows furrowing. She was not the child he had met at his in-law's house. The features of the child were bold and somewhat familiar, but he couldn't place her. The drawings with the matronly woman always depicted only the two of them together. In one, the woman bent towards the little girl holding a few herbs in her hand amidst what appeared to be a garden surrounded by plants. A majestic building loomed in the background.

The house where Minjae had met Choi Se-min.

But the one that dried his throat was of a bride draped in an ostentatious bridal dress of coral green and red, with the gache on her head looking like a mountain under which she seemed to be sinking in the ground. Cracks underneath her feet swallowed her feet, but the girl stood stoic, her graceful lines accepting of fate foisted upon her. The gache sparkled with shimmering stones, a stark contrast to her face, frozen and painted white into undistinguishable lines - as in death.

∞

Staying in an inn had its advantages. Minjae soaked in the small iron tub, feeling the aches and sores ebbing away. A delicious lethargy filled her.

If she were smart, she would have left the inn right after Seung left, hired a boatman, boarded a ship, returned to Ganghwa, and never seen him again.

Instead, she slept, ordered flower petals and herbs from the market, and spread her mother's books to dry.

Water sloshed around her toes as she wriggled them.

She was tired of being smart.

She was tired of running.

She was tired of denying herself happiness.

Ganghwa had taught her that men and women could do the deed not to procreate but just for enjoyment but she never thought she could ever bring herself to experience the delights of sensual pleasure. She had been drilled with her lessons of chastity so thoroughly that even thinking of fornication made her feel unchaste.

Until her husband came crashing back into her orbit, upending everything she knew about life in general and herself in particular.

Minjae blushed at all the things Seung had done with her at night. The morning was still young. He had said he would return late in the evening, so she still had time to clean up, dress, and maybe take another nap -

The door slid, and for one moment, panic sped up her heart, and she sank further into the tub before the tall length of Seung bent his head at the doorway, entered the room, and slid the door close behind him. Relief washed over her, quickly followed by another kind of apprehension that had nothing to do with fear.

Their eyes met.

Minjae saw his eyes change from anxiety to relief and then settle into something else, which made every part of her body, inside and out, throb with anticipation.

The fire in his gaze could melt the iron tub she was sitting in. Her body reacted viscerally to the heat. She swallowed and sank a bit deeper, aware the flush radiating from her freshly scrubbed, drenched skin generated steam.

"Surprised to see me still here?" She curled a nonchalant brow, trying to hide her nervousness.

A slow, appreciative smile emerged on his face, flashing the even, sparkling set of teeth, telling her he saw right through her bluster. "The thought did cross my mind."

He deposited the muslin packets he carried to a side of the room and crossed the floor to stand at the edge of the tub. The water was covered with petals but did little to hide her body from his hot gaze. His closeness buzzed with a sensuality that started to work its way to a spot that made her want to move her hips to an ancient rhythm of bliss. She drew her knees closer to her chest.

"Is that why you took my dress?" She kept her voice neutral.

It earned her an amused look. "Would the absence of a dress stop you from leaving if you wanted to? The night ended when I left. You had enough money on you." He bent, placed his hand on the rim of the tub and touched her forehead with a long finger, dragging it down the bridge of her nose to the cleft between her lips and nostrils before outlining her lips. Her gaze blurred into a mass of sensations. "You are the most disobedient woman I have ever known, so my instructions would not be it," he said, looking into her eyes, "So what held you back from leaving, Physician Kim?"

Seung straightened and pulled at the ties of his lavender hanbok that accentuated his broad shoulders and tapering waist like a second skin. Her skin sizzled just looking at him. As the hanbok fell away, the temperature rose to unbearable.

"What are you doing?" The pitch of her voice matched the temperature of the room.

"The water looks inviting," Seung tilted his head to a side, watching her flustered face with eyes that swam with amusement and desire.

Her eyes went round with disgruntlement and craving as his clothes came off. He was magnificent.

So beautiful.

Her breath serrated. "You can't do this; it's daytime!"

"Has His Majesty passed a new law against bathing during daytime?" His velvety voice glided over her.

"Only for men who plan to get into occupied tubs already too small for them!" She quipped, half scandalised, half crazed with desire.

"I have seldom followed the rules; I am afraid you are stuck with a renegade," his chest rumbled with laughter, starkly contrasting his eyes that smoked.

"There is not enough space; you are too big," the words tumbled. It was one thing in the middle of the night but entirely another in the middle of the day, with people moving right outside their door. They could hear every ripple of water sloshing if they paid enough attention.

"Ah! I take that as a compliment, though I am glad your comparison comes from seeing most of them in hospital beds and never in your own," Seung was now openly laughing at her.

Minjae turned bright red as his words sank in, but no witty comebacks came out. Her throat had scraped itself off all moisture. Seung climbed behind her, lifted her like she weighed nothing and then placed her back squarely on his lap, shifting and adjusting himself until they were both comfortingly sitting in hot water.

"Please, Dari, someone can hear, or worse -"

"Shh. I rented all the rooms in the inn for as long as we are here. No one will disturb us unless we call them," His one arm wrapped itself around her waist; the other mapped her body leisurely. Her lower back tingled with the velvet pressure of his arousal while his lips grazed the mole on her shoulder. "You didn't answer, Physician Kim. What kept you back?"

She was too busy fighting the tremblings of desire that churned through her as he continued to leave a trail of fire on her wet skin, his hand roving, his fingers doing all sorts of impure things to her.

"I can still leave -" her head jerked back, heat pulsing down her spine.

"In that case, I need to work harder to convince you otherwise," he said languidly.

But there was nothing languid about what followed. She could not have been more wrong if she thought the previous night had been the height of ecstasy. By the time Seung finished his 'convincing', Minjae was a mindless mess of raw need, her awareness centring on the feel of his hands, his mouth, his tongue, the burst of lights behind her closed eyes so frequent that she thought she would go blind with pleasure. The floor around them was a wet mess, and more was added every time they moved in that tub, but none of them cared.

Minjae could not relate to the person who writhed and whimpered in her body, a tangle of emotions and desire that flamed fiercer every time he touched her. And the man found new spots to torture with every delicious movement. Even the knowledge that what they were doing was scandalous didn't stop her from mewling. When he filled her from behind while she hung onto the rim of the tub, she was sobbing for him, tortured with a need so great it drove her insane. Seung fisted her hair in his hand, every movement stamping his domination over her body, her soul. She had to put a fist in her mouth when they both came apart to stop the scream that threatened to rip through her.

It wasn't scandalous. A gentle voice in her head reminded her. He was her husband, even though she would die before she let him find out.

"I have to be here for another three days," Seung murmured against her neck as he spooned her on the bed a long while later.

Her previous anxiety returned manifold. The longer she stayed with him, the longer the risk of exposure.

The reason for her visit to Hanyang still hung like a shadow over them. But in turn, Seung, too, had not divulged how he came upon her and Kang Do in the middle of the night on a deserted street. Commanders in King's army didn't scale rooftops at night for jest. Neither did they accuse someone of being a spy in one moment and then jump into a frozen river the next to save them. And they definitely didn't make love to them like the world would end tomorrow.

Minjae wondered what he saw and knew. She had learned about him enough to know he had the nose of a hound. Yet, he had promised not to ask her about her past and kept his word. Still, one wrong move from her, and their world would crash.

Minjae shuddered to think what would happen if Seung ever learned the truth.

He would burn the Choi house down, with Choi Si-wan in it. How easy would it be to turn to him and let it off her chest. Free herself.

It was a fantasy that could never play out because people would die. And Minjae had little doubt that her father would emerge from the ashes of that revelation, his hands full of heads of those who crossed him.

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

"I must be back to Ganghwa before that. My patients need me," she said.

"I already sent word to your father," Seung said. "I won't let you go alone. I have to go out tonight again, but I have plans for you tomorrow."

"Plans?" Minjae asked, curiosity winning over apprehension.

"You will see," he murmured, dragging her closer, his arm clasped tight around her waist.

"Tell me, Dari!" She demanded. But he was already asleep, his chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm that pierced her soul.

Lee Seung, sleeping with her - his lawfully wedded wife, Choi Jina. A day she had never had imagined in her wildest of dreams.

She could die today if she could freeze this moment in a timeless loop.

Minjae came around to soft rustles, her eyes heavy with sleep and lethargy. She cracked open an eye, then bolted upright when she saw Seung studying the sketch of her grandmother. He was fully dressed, his lavender hanbok gleaming in the lantern lights, the soft glow throwing his incredible features in sharp relief.

"Who is this, Minjae?" Seung asked so softly that it was a sonorous rumble in his throat.

Her swallow swelled with fear and apprehension. She took deep breaths. Keeping her panic at bay, she turned her face away and pretended to yawn.

"I am sorry, I still feel tired," she said.

Immediate concern filled his eyes. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I feel fine. I didn't realise I slept so long," she said.

A slight, indulgent smile hovered on his lips before Seung went back to studying the sketch. "I found this in the books. I was putting them back together," he indicated the stacked pages. "They are dry."

"I don't know who she is," Minjae lied. "I bought those books, and it was in there," she hedged.

"Bought?" Seung looked alert.

"Yes. Yesterday, from an old bookstore. They are medicinal books," Minjae said, glad that at least some part of it was true.

His brows furrowed, and he looked at the books thoughtfully but refrained from saying anything further. He rolled the sketch and placed it on the sheaf of papers. Picking up the muslin packets, he strolled over to the bed.

Seung crouched and dropped them in her lap. "I hope you like what's in them," he said, and placed a swift kiss on her forehead. "Rest. I will be late. I have to meet with His Majesty." He retrieved a dagger. "Keep this with you. You are safe here, but just in case."

With that, he was gone.

Minjae ripped open the muslin packet to reveal four breathtaking hanboks and a jangot—clouds of peach, green, blue, and grey silk. Her breath stuck in her throat. Did he forget that, as a commoner, she was not allowed to wear silk? The jangot, on the other hand, was thick wool, and there were thick stockings and wool underskirts to go with the hanboks.

She quickly tried one on. It fit perfectly, flowing over her like a sheen of glaze on graceful pottery. She wondered how Seung got them stitched so quickly. Giggles spurted as the mystery behind her missing dress resolved itself.

Something else fell from the pouch.

A small stack of acupuncture needles.

The 'plan' turned out to be a visit to a stunning temple perched on a hill that overlooked Hanyang in all its glory. It had a small garden surrounding a pagoda. In the distance, rolling hills and mountains stood like ancient guardians as if nurturing the valley in their embrace. Even the winter could not steal their secrets. A river or stream winded through the valley covered with various shades of green of well-maintained and systematically arranged fields, some cultivated, others wild.

"How do you know such a place?" Minjae glowed. "You have a knack for finding beautiful places few people know of," she gushed.

Pleasure crept across Seung's face. "My family lived close to this temple when we lived in Hanyang. I often came with one of my Uncles. Sometimes, our whole family would come, and we would spend the day here, praying and eating."

That's what Minjae did with Seung. He had brought a basket of mouthwatering food from somewhere they shared on the velvety grass overlooking the vast, green valley with a patchwork of fields and small clusters of hanok, characterised by their tiled roofs and wooden structures, nestled within the greenery.

Next, Seung took her to a well-stocked library in the middle of the merchant square, where she felt like a child in a sweet shop.

"I have never met a woman who is so well-read," Seung remarked.

"Some of my Yangban patients pay me with treasured books," she replied, lost in the volumes of a book detailing tools for surgery in Ming oriental medicine while Seung watched her with a gentle smile dancing on his lips.

They settled into a pattern. Seung took her to surprise destinations in a palanquin carried by four large but circumspect men while he walked ahead of them. Every now and then, he would gently shield her eyes with his hands, and as soon as he lifted them away, she would be awestruck by the scene he had unveiled for her. It was a Hanyang she had never seen. It didn't frighten her or conjure nauseous memories. Instead, the sights fascinated her.

Later, the palanquin returned her to the inn while Seung rode away to work on a horse. At the inn, she made friends with the little boy and listened to him regale stories about people who visited the inn.

Seung returned at night and showed her how infinitely interesting his 'tricks' were, leaving her sore, satiated, and wanting more. Seung was fascinated by her moles. "It's like someone painted them on you in their leisure time."

Minjae didn't want it to end, yet she knew her time with Seung was ticking. She refused to think of it. So when he gingerly mentioned that it might take a couple more days before he could leave, she had acquiesced.

Three days ran into six.

Minjae had her doubts about Seung having to stay in Hanyang. The Royal entourage had moved to Ganghwa two days ago. The procession had been long and winded through the city with much fanfare. Minjae had hid in her room. Seung's presence on the island should have been mandatory. Minaje wondered how he had worked around it.

"I only oversee the defence. I was there to see them off. There are people who take care of the rest," he said.

"What if the barbarians invade now?" She asked.

He wore a troubled look. "If that happens, I don't want them to find you, no matter what. Hide from them at all costs."

On the fourth day, Sung had been away almost the entire day, but when he returned, he swept her to Hanyang's most famous marketplace.

Minjae felt trepidation as she stepped in, but soon, the colourful sights and sounds of the marketplace overtook her senses. She bought trinkets for everyone in the family, including her brother-in-law, though she wasn't sure if he would appreciate it. His boat had returned a day before she had come to Hanyang. O Mahn Sik had personally come to drop her off and stayed on the shore until the ship sailed away before returning to his wife.

On their fifth day, Seung didn't go anywhere. Instead, they made love, slept, ate, talked and then made love again. Despite a universe of secrets surrounding them, conversations between them flowed as easily as water from a fresh spring downhill. Seung barely left her side. Minjae teased him about breaking every man and woman protocol Joseon had set for the society, and he only scoffed before showing her thoroughly how irrelevant those protocols were to him. However, every now and then, her heart would race when she woke up to find him studying her thoughtfully as if trying to solve an enigma and willing her secrets to reveal themselves to him. Sometimes, she wondered how he even trusted her, let alone love her, when he knew almost nothing about her past and found her circumstances suspicious. But she would be a fool to look for a gift in the horse's mouth.

Her defences were chipping away. Before her father foisted the fake wife on Seung, she had resolved to tell him the truth. She found herself floundering. The close shave with death and Seung's proximity that had bloomed her to life lowered her guard.

The risks were still too great. Minjae knew that once Seung discovered the truth, he would never rest until he exposed everything, destroyed Choi Si-wan and claimed her as his wife. But it could result in many deaths. In light of that, could she persuade him to disregard everything and continue pretending she was Minjae?

A rude awakening that evening ended the debate when her luck finally ran out. Seung took her to another library in a bustling part of town. The foot traffic was exceptionally heavy, and when her palanquin stopped, she assumed they were either detouring or pausing to let someone more important pass. She slid the curtain of her palanquin window an inch to peer out and heard the announcement that asked people to give way.

The pit of her stomach bottomed out. Her skin turned clammy.

People stood aside as the Chief Minister's palanquin chair came into view.

The illusion of her safe cocoon with Seung shattered. She withdrew into her palanquin, curled beneath her jangot, terrified, as she heard someone announce the name, again and again, that haunted her nightmares - His Excellency, Chief State Minister Choi Si-wan.

She closed her eyes, dragged her knees close to her chest and buried her face in her knees, swamping the jangot around her like a sheath.

The air went still. It was like everyone had stopped speaking.

"Father," Seung's clipped but respectful voice floated to her.

"Son-in-law," Choi Si-wan's chidding voice pierced through the air. "I was hoping you had already returned to where you should be right now."

"I still have work to finish in Hanyang, Father," Seung replied, his voice perfectly polite, yet Minjae had no trouble reading his voice's underlying anger.

"Your mother-in-law was disappointed you didn't visit to pay your respects this week. However, I can see how busy you have been." Sarcasm dripped from Choi Si-wan's voice. "Perhaps you would like to introduce me to your work," he said mildly.

Minjae could picture her father pointing towards her palanquin with his cleft chin. Terror twisted its claw in her heart, drawing blood and jagged breaths that puffed in smoke. Her fingers shook uncontrollably, and she had difficulty clutching the ends of her jangot. Choi Si-wan was standing so close that she felt he could see her through the curtains of the palanquin.

"It will be an honour, Father. I am meeting His Highness Crown Prince Sohyeon later tonight. If you can join us, we might benefit greatly from your wisdom," Seung's voice dripped with respect. Choi Si-wan was no fool and too shrewd to miss the challenge in his son-in-law's voice, the dare to even approach her palanquin. No one in Joseon dared touch another man's woman, not even the most powerful man in the country, even if it was his own son-in-law's. "However, we have eyes and ears everywhere," Seung's voice carried a subtle warning, "so this might not be the most conducive place for such talks, as Your Excellency would no doubt agree."

In reply, Lord Choi Si-wan laughed.

Minjae felt a phantom leash whip against her back, every scar coming alive with a burning pain.

"Son-in-law," his voice dropped so Minjae knew only Seung could hear him, "I had heard about your penchant for women, and it's interesting how you effortlessly seem to pick a whore everywhere you go but don't make the mistake of sullying the Choi family name in Hanyang. No one knows or cares what happened between you and my daughter in the past, and I am sure you would not like to see the other women in your life suffer because of your stubbornness. Take heed."

"Understood, Father-in-law. I assure you your daughter is in safe hands as long as she understands her boundaries, and no one will ever know what happened. Unless you wish to take her back?" If a voice could slice, Choi Si-wan would be filleted like a fish.

Anyone overhearing would find no fault with the exchange. Minjae knew both men well enough to understand that were they to be stripped of every civility that bound them, there would be a bloodbath. And in that scenario, Seung would win.

Since that scenario was as likely as the moon walking on Earth, Minjae shrank further into the shell of her palanquin, only breathing once she heard her father's procession pass.

A slight knock alerted her before the curtain moved, and Seung looked in. She was too frightened to hide her emotions, and his jaw tightened, her agony reflected in his eyes. "Let's go back," he said.

∞

By the time they returned to the inn, Minjae was composed. She even teased him for being too conformist before his father-in-law, but she quit in the face of his death stare.

However, Seung could sense the shift in her. Choi Si-wan's appearance stuck a thorn in his side. A new thought was forming in his head. Could Choi Se-min lead something on his father, Choi Si-wan?

Seung shook his head. It was too far-fetched and preposterous. Choi Si-wan would gain nothing by going against King Injo. Moreover, he was one of the most vocal voices against Barbarians, carrying the heaviest weight in the court. What would he gain by colluding with them?

However, his father-in-law had not taken his refusal to meet him well, and seeing Seung with another woman besides his daughter had hurt his pride. Seung would not be surprised if there were repercussions. He almost hoped there were; at least he would have a reason to dump Choi Jina back to her house.

The image of the bride's sketch he saw at Se-min's dormitory chamber pricked a thorn of unease at the base of his neck.

Something didn't fit. And it hounded him.

A strange foreboding invaded his chest, leaving him short of breath. His hands reached for Minjae, and he enveloped her in an embrace so tight that even air could not pass between them.

∞

The following evening, Seung told her he might not retain command of the island much longer.

Minjae's heart sank. It was one matter for her to refuse to see him but quite another if he were to depart the island entirely. She could not envisage a future in which she would never lay eyes upon him again. Ganghwa was a considerable distance from any other place and not a location where he could simply 'drop in to visit' on his days of leisure. Entering and leaving the island needed special permits; not everyone could visit just because they wanted to.

Seung pulled her close, cradling her head in the crook of his one arm, a warm hand moulding a breast. A heavy leg swaddled her. "No matter where I go, you are coming with me." He placed a hand on her belly. "We might even have created a new life," he breathed tenderly.

Minjae shook her head. "No, we haven't."

"Are you God?" Seung sounded irate.

"Close enough. I know how this works better than you, Dari. The time is wrong." she blatantly lied, but Seung would not know that. "And this ends when we reach the island," she said with a finality that dried her blood.

Red flushed his face. He sat up. "You cannot mean that!"

Minjae closed her eyes against his harsh breaths. "I mean every word," she bit the words out. "Please, Dari, let's not speak about it."

"Why are you so afraid, Minjae? Who were those people who wanted to kill you? Why did you come to Hanyang? Why -" he stopped, a frustrating huff of breath leaving his chest.

Who are you?

Minjae could hear his silent question.

"What happened to Kim Seo Jun's real daughter?" Seung asked.

"I do not know," she lied. The less Seung knew, the better.

"You know I can ferret that information out in no time?"

"If you do, it will only alert more people to my complicity and endanger the family. Don't you realise no one has ever suspected that I was not born into that family? Not even you?" She turned her eyes on him, brimming with anguish and reproach. "Those who help people like me are always the first to fall," she said, turning her face away.

Seung cupped her face and turned it back to face him. "I want to protect you. You could have been mistaken for a spy that night and imprisoned. Once that happened, it would not have mattered that you were innocent. Your skin would have been ripped, bones crushed. I cannot ever take that chance again," he shuddered, closing his eyes against the horrifying images his words created. "I am not the only one looking out for you. Kang Do killed those two men," Seung said. Her breath hitched, and her eyes widened. "I promise nothing will ever touch you again. But how will I do that if you do not tell me?"

Alarm coursed through her veins with a vengeance. A day before, she had been weakening, but her father's appearance had changed that forever. "You promised you won't ask me about my past. I told you all I could." She wrung her face free and sat up. "I have never hidden that I could not be with you. Nothing has changed," she stuck out her chin.

"Don't be so heartless, Minjae. Please trust me," he swallowed. "Don't shut me out. Whatever you fear, I will make it go away. Give me a chance, sweetheart," he implored, tightening his grip on her, using his sheer force to prevent her from twisting out of his grasp. "If you are truly a slave, I will buy you from your Master, even if it takes every last coin I possess," the desperation in his voice serrated her soul.

Using both her hands, she placed it on her chest, and gave him a push. He didn't budge.

"You cannot help me. No one can," Minjae was so frustrated that she could scream. "You take me for a fool, Dari? Do you think I would not have tried if I could? You can battle what you can see but never fight what you can't!" Tears spilled. "Leave me alone, leave me alone!"

She was aware a hysteria was bubbling inside her, but she was as helpless to prevent it as a straw trying to save a drowning man. Seung wrapped her in his arms as her reserve broke. He soothed her until her sobs subsided.

She didn't see him set his jaw and narrow his eyes, his gaze fixed on the neatly stacked books in the corner. Nor did she see the resolve in his eyes as he made desperate love to her that night.

None of them slept.

Both were fisting sand. The tighter they clenched, the faster it slipped through the cracks.