My deep soul

Chapter 6

The night air at Okta was alive with chatter, the scent of roasted chestnuts, and the sound of strings plucked by wandering musicians. It was the heart of Silla’s social life, a place where stories, songs, and whispers of politics mingled freely.

“Look, Lady Jinyoen is here!”

The murmur rippled quickly through the crowd. Heads turned. A path cleared instinctively as she walked with quiet grace. Lantern light caught the smooth curve of her face, making her seem almost otherworldly. Men, emboldened by her beauty, tried their best smiles, but Jinyoen did not so much as glance at them.

For some reason, her thoughts lingered elsewhere—on the memory of a pair of dark eyes that had caught hers the previous day. *Jidiwi.* Why did her heart stumble whenever she thought of him?

She moved among the crowd, exchanging greetings with friends, when a sudden shriek from nearby drew her attention.

“Banryu is here!”

The announcement spread like wildfire. Banryu, the adoptive son of Park Youngshil, entered with the casual arrogance that always made heads turn. He passed by Jinyoen, pausing just long enough to flash her a smile, polished and practiced.

Jinyoen inclined her head politely and gave the smallest smile in return. She respected his position, but her heart was unmoved.

“Sooho is here too!” someone shouted.

At once, her expression broke into a grin. Sooho, her dearest friend—almost like an elder brother—strode toward her with his usual lively energy. He was the only man in the capital who treated her without pretense or hidden desire.

“What a pleasant surprise,” he greeted warmly. “Hello, my little sister, Jinyoen.”

“Hello, Sooho,” she replied, bowing slightly.

He gave her a playful look. “Yesterday you swore you wouldn’t come. What changed your mind?”

“I did say that,” Jinyoen chuckled. “But Ahro had other plans for me. Speaking of her, I must find her. Enjoy your day, Sooho.”

Sooho called after her as she slipped away into the gathering. “Don’t forget—you owe me a story next time!”

Jinyoen smiled to herself and pushed through the crowd until she reached a familiar circle of women seated with baskets of pearls, fabrics, and thread.

“Okay, this is the time you’ve been waiting for,” said Ahro, standing at the head like a conductor of a secret play. “Time to sew.”

“Wait for me!” Jinyoen said, her voice light with amusement. “I want to hear the story as well.”

“Ah! Lady Jinyoen—welcome.” The women shifted to make space for her. She smiled warmly, settling down with her basket of pearls, fingers already busy as her best friend began her tale.

“He was blinded by his jealousy, and his heart was on fire,” Ahro’s voice rang out, strong and clear as she walked around the table, dramatizing every word. The women sighed, enchanted by the story.

Jinyoen, though, soon became absorbed in her task, carefully attaching the pearls that Eun, her elder brother, had gifted her. Time slipped past her unnoticed.

When she looked up again, the room was silent.

Empty.

The laughter of the women was gone, the candle flames swayed in the sudden draft. A chill skittered up her spine.

“Ahro?” she called softly. “Why did you—”

The door creaked open. A gust of wind blew, snuffing out the nearest candle. The room darkened, shadows stretching like claws across the wooden floor.

Jinyoen froze. She felt it before she saw it—someone was behind her.

Her breath caught. Slowly, she lowered her gaze. A pair of black shoes came into view. Her chest tightened as she squeezed her eyes shut.

A deep voice broke the silence.
“What did I do to make you close your eyes?”

Her pulse hammered as she stumbled backward. “Wh–who are you?”

The man stepped closer. “Whoever I am—does that question truly matter? A waste, don’t you think? Six days, and yet…”

“What was?” she whispered, her back hitting a pillar. “Why are you doing this?”

His tone lowered, teasing, dangerous. “Why? Because it is dark. And secluded. A good place for many things.”

Her foot slipped—she fell back, bracing for the hard floor, but before she struck, a strong arm coiled firmly around her waist, pulling her against a solid chest. The warmth of him startled her, but the voice near her ear made her shiver.

Jinyoen’s eyes flew open. She met a pair of dark brown eyes, sharp and dreamlike, staring into her as though she belonged to them.

She jerked free of his hold, breathless, pointing at him with trembling fingers.

“You…” she gasped.

Jidiwi smiled faintly at the accusation, shadows curling around him like a cloak.

“Yes. Me.”