Abrial returned much later in the night.

Shin Minyeo wasn’t in the house when she returned, and neither was that sparrow Cham-sae. She went straight to the bed, pulled the thin summer blanket over her head, and closed her eyes.

“Feelings for Finley, my ass,” she muttered scornfully. “She must live a really secluded life out here to say crazy things like that.”

And she drifted off into sleep.

----------------------------------------

The days began to weave together in a rhythmic haze.

Abrial would always wake up late in the mornings, a surprising development. Back at the house, she hadn’t slept well into the day for years, always woken by nightmares and cold pools of sweaty panic.

Here, she woke peacefully and groggily when the sun’s rays shone on her eyes from the large window, warming her face gently. She rose to the smell of damp soil and herbs, always to find a bowl of some hot noodle or dumpling or rice cake soup steaming on the table, as though it had just been cooked recently, though Shin Minyeo was never anywhere in sight. Sometimes there were side dishes too, of pickled spicy radish and bean sprouts and other things. She ate well for breakfast every morning.

Sometimes, Cham-sae would be there to wake her up to eat breakfast if she slept almost until lunch. It would peck at her hair, chirping angrily until she sat up and swatted him away. Then it would stick its tiny, shining beak into the air with a humph! and soar out the window to go find its master.

Shin Minyeo wasn’t often around the cottage during the day. Abrial could never find her in the mornings. Only after the sun went down did that woman return to the cottage. On rare, cloudy mornings, Shin Minyeo stayed to tease Abrial as she slurped her soup. She especially teased Abrial when she apologized grudgingly for calling Shin Minyeo a “stupid old crone” a few nights ago.

Shin Minyeo had gasped in mock shock.

“Abrial has the ability to apologize? What a shocking discovery!”

Abrial had slammed down her empty bowl of soup and gripped her wooden spoon so hard that it started to crack.

During the days, Abrial meandered outside over the hills. She tried to escape a few more times, but every time she climbed a certain number of hills, she always spotted the white cottage in the distance again, obscured by its magical gardens. Whenever she caught sight of it far off, she would smile bitterly and swear.

“Isn’t this stupid, Finley? I feel perfectly fine! We could’ve met up by now…But actually, on second thought, you’d probably agree with that woman and force me to stay. You’re both stubborn about that kind of stuff.”

Abrial seemed to fail to notice that she was probably the most stubborn of them all. But that was nothing new. She’d never been very self-aware.

Aside from rolling around the hills, catching flopping salmon in the river, and precariously climbing pines, which she really shouldn’t have been doing considering her injuries, Abrial began to learn how to ride Dal.

She’d never had the opportunity to ride a horse before, much less see one up close. Where would there have been room to at the house, besides the winding garden paths?

Because she’d never done it before, horse riding was an idea that really excited her. Just thinking about leaning low as Dal galloped at racing speeds across the hillside sent blood rippling through her veins and caused a sparkling grin to break out over her cheeks.

Unfortunately, the idea of something…isn’t always the same as the thing itself.

As it turned out, Abrial was horrible at horse riding.

This was clear as soon as she tried to stay on top of Dal’s back the first time. Mounting him was easy enough, as he actually leaned down on his front legs to allow her to hoist herself up. She figured out a way to swing herself up onto his muscular back by slinging her arms loosely around his neck.

After that, everything fell to disaster.

Dal had no saddle or reins. He wouldn’t have needed reins, since he listened so attentively to Abrial’s motions and tried to help her ride him properly. But it was Abrial who needed a saddle and reins to hold onto.

She slid right off his back within the first three seconds of sitting there. After crashing to the ground and rolling in the grass, Abrial sprang back up to try again, determined.

Things repeated like this for over an hour.

Dal would kneel, Abrial would swing herself up, and she would topple right over. She landed on her backside, her arms, her knees, even her face. She fell so many times that she was bruised all over like an overripe pear. It got to the point that Dal began to stay kneeling after she mounted, in order to make her falling distance shorter.

Still, Abrial continued, swearing and wincing in pain. Trying to stay atop Dal was almost as difficult as trying to force detailed information about the outside world out of her tutors.

By the time the sun had begun to set, Abrial was finally able to stay atop Dal’s back for five minutes without falling. She slid off weakly, his soft fur caressing her hands. Then she pressed her face into his neck, breathing in deeply and rubbing his mane. Dal whinnied in pleasure.

“Thanks for having patience with me, Dal,” she mumbled. “I’ll ask that woman for apples to bring you tomorrow. Sleep well.”

Dal brayed in response, nuzzling Abrial’s neck. Abrial left him there, smiling. Her smile quickly turned into a wince once she was approaching the river.

She put a hand to her back like an old lady.

“I feel like a sack of rice again,” she groaned, limping.

About an hour later, she’d managed to set up a small fire on the riverbank despite her pain. She’d spitted and was roasting several salmon above it when a teasing voice spoke behind her.

“If you keep exerting yourself like this, you’ll never get to leave.”

Abrial jumped, and made an irritated face. She turned to glare at Shin Minyeo, who was sitting cross-legged on a log near the fire. When had she arrived? Her mischievous face glowed gleefully in the orange light of the flames. Despite the warmth of the fire and the summer night, she was wearing several shawls again. As Abrial watched, she even pulled them closer around her shoulders.

Abrial turned back to the fish, turning them over the sparking firewood. The smell of hot, cooked salmon filled her nostrils.

“Why do you always wear so many robes and shawls? Aren’t you sweating a ton? I’m wearing a thin robe, and I still feel humid.”

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“Call me eonnie, heh!” Shin Minyeo reminded Abrial. She liked to remind Abrial of this several times a day, mostly because it made Abrial grit her teeth with irritation. Abrial still refused to refer to Shin Minyeo as her ‘older sister’. Shin Minyeo took some time before answering, in which the fire crackled pleasantly. “I have poor health, so I feel cold often.”

Abrial raised an eyebrow, pulling the spit of cooked fish off the fire. She set another one on, then salted the one in her hands with seasoning she’d taken from the cottage earlier that morning. When she finished, she handed it to Shin Minyeo. Shin Minyeo took it with a surprised smile. Abrial really had become more polite already during her short stay! Besides stealing the seasoning, of course.

Abrial seemed to know what Shin Minyeo was thinking. Turning around with an expression between embarrassment and grumpiness, she muttered, “I’m not giving it to you first out of respect because you’re older or something. It’s just…You always make food for me. So here’s some fish in return…or something. Just eat it.”

Shin Minyeo watched Abrial, her eyes sparkling with laughter. Then she took a bite of fish. It was crispy and hot, nice and savory. Her eyes teared up slightly, remembering something. The wateriness quickly went away, leaving a touched smile.

Abrial opened her mouth to ask more about Shin Minyeo’s poor health as she turned the second spit of fish. But before she could, Shin Minyeo spoke from behind her,

“So, tell me…How did you and your friend Finley meet?”

Abrial’s face exploded red. She whirled around, pointing an accusing finger.

“Don’t get started on this again! If you mention something like what you did before one more time, I’m going to…going to do something really violent!”

“Ooh!” Shin Mineyo taunted, blocking herself with the stick of fish in mock fearful defense. “I’m so scared! Abrial, would you attack your poor eonnie who cooks for you every day and changes your dirty bandages? Your sweaty, dirty bandages, this poor eonnie has to deal with them…”

At this, Abrial’s face reddened even more. She kicked a pile of sticks nearby. It went flying, scattering across the riverbank. Then she sat down furiously, throwing another piece of wood into the fire.

When she didn’t say anything, Shin Minyeo’s expression softened. She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Abrial muttered,

“I met Finely when she was ten and I was eight. I mean, when I was nine. Nine years ago.”

Shin Minyeo nodded. “So you were born in the Year of the Lotus.”

Abrial’s shoulders tensed. She reached out to turn the spit. The fish on it were growing crispy already.

“Yeah. I was. And?”

“Nothing. I was only making a note. You mentioned before that you grew up imprisoned in your parents’ house?”

Abrial clenched her jaw in fierce embarrassment. She’d exploded about never having been out of the house and therefore not having learned proper etiquette when Shin Minyeo had relentlessly teased her about her bad manners a few nights ago.

“And what about it?”

“How did you and Finley grow so close if you were closed off from the outside world?”

Abrial stayed silent for a moment, sorting through memories with a clenched jaw.

“She lived in my house, not outside. My parents brought her home one day. They said that she’d be my servant from then on, but that I should treat her as well as a friend, or something. She’s always helped me and cared for me, but…I don’t see her as a servant. And there’s no distance between us, so it’s not like a servant-master relationship. We’re…friends.”

Abrial could vividly remember the day her parents had brought Finley home. She had been sitting through the most tedious lesson with a mathematics instructor out in the garden courtyard, and had been bored out of her mind. She was at the point of sliding out of her chair and rolling on the ground when Anna, the housemaid, opened the house’s garden doors.

“Your parents are here with a…guest,” she announced to Abrial.

She disappeared inside, and moments later, Abrial’s parents emerged. Abrial’s mother looked serious, while her father smiled brightly.

“Come out, Finley,” Abrial’s mother coaxed quietly. “The young lady you’ll serve is out here.”

From behind the folds of Abrial’s mother’s flowing stone-gray robes, a girl peeped out. Her bright hazel eyes shone like gems, blinking shyly out at Abrial from the depths of the house.

Abrial jumped up from her seat excitedly.

“Hey! Who’s that? It’s a girl! Who’re you?”

Abrial’s father chuckled. “Yes, it’s a girl! She is going to be your servant from today onward, and will be living with us, Abrial. She is one and a half years older than you. Even though she will be helping you and has the title of a servant, you must make sure to treat her as a friend and be kind to her. Do you understand, Abrial?”

Abrial ignored him completely. She didn’t often listen to her parents, which frustrated her mother to the extreme, but amused her father. Right now, they watched with polar opposite expressions as she grasped Finley’s small, pale hand and pulled her out into the light of the courtyard.

She began examining Finley’s face with wide, dark eyes, their noses very close together.

“I like your eyes. They’re like glowing jewels. Wow! They sparkle! My name’s Abrial. What’s your name?”

Finley's cheeks were pink as she looked down. “Nice to meet you, Lady Abrial. My name is Finley Fellner. I’ll be helping you from today on.”

Abrial noticed that Finley smelled nice and looked very clean. Her braided hair was even a bit wet, like she’d just taken a bath, and she wore one of Abrial’s pale robes.

“Nice!” Abrial cried excitedly. “You look like a princess with this robe. Hey, wanna go play at the lotus pond? We can throw pebbles and see if we can make the flowers tilt over. This instructor is too boring!” She made a face, sticking out her tongue. The instructor, who had stood politely watching this whole exchange, opened his mouth with a splutter of disbelief. Finley smiled slightly.

Abrial’s father quickly strode to the instructor, apologizing merrily and leading him into the house with a gesture.

“Please excuse our daughter,” he explained in a low voice with a grin. “She is rebellious and does not remember courtesies well. The acupuncturist my wife has scheduled to see you will surely help with any stress she has caused.”

The instructor nodded stiffly, miffed, and allowed himself to be led away.

Abrial and Finley had spent the whole afternoon together, overturning lotuses and playing hide-and-seek in the paradise gardens. Finley was so quiet that it took Abrial almost half an hour to find her nestled in a thick bush of red berries like a little, wide-eyed rabbit. When Finley was the seeker, she always found Abrial easily, since Abrial liked to hide up in trees, none of which had much cover. But that didn’t matter to Abrial — it was for the excitement of climbing up so high, not for the hiding-place value!

A pleasant smile formed on Abrial’s face as she recalled this memory, staring into the fire.

“Mm, I’ve never seen you smile so peacefully before,” remarked Shin Minyeo, picking the silver fish skin carefully off a bone. “What are you thinking about? Also, you should remove that spit before the fish charrs to ashes.”

Abrial shook herself into consciousness. She snatched the spit, on which the fish were smoking slightly. She shook seasoning onto it. They ate the rest of their meal peacefully, only talking a little.

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A week passed, then two.

In this time, Abrial finally figured out how to ride a horse. It took many days for her to do it properly without falling off, and that was mostly thanks to Dal’s superb ability to keep Abrial on his back while he ran. By the end of two weeks, she was at last able to hold securely onto his neck as he galloped up and down hills, for a whole hour! It was one of the most thrilling things she had ever done.

She loved the feeling of the wind whipping through her hair, as it had only done the time Finley sent her away from the house on a great gust of wind. She loved how the grass and skies blurred together into a painted haze, while Dal’s shimmering black fur and her hands clutched around his neck remained the only clear thing in the world. She felt like she was flying as he sprinted over the earth. At the top of her voice, she would whoop!, listening to the sound echo victoriously across the landscape. It would take the two of them only twenty minutes maximum to return to the cottage after leaving, unlike the hour or more it took Abrial on foot. Abrial was fast, but Dal was an incredible horse. He was swift and nimble as the wind itself.

Those two weeks passed without event, besides one night on the last day of the second week.