My deep soul

Chapter 7

“So… we meet again,” Jidiwi smirked.

“What do you need?” she asked, trying to keep her tone steady.

“You know very well what I need,” he replied, his eyes glinting in the candlelight.

Jinyoen groaned, exasperated. “Ah! Again. Why are you doing this? I can’t sing for you. Go find someone else!”

But before she could step away, he closed the distance in a single stride, gently but firmly taking her hand. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, “but you’re not leaving either.” He led her toward a quiet, secluded room in the back.

“I’m not going to sing—that’s final,” she declared, but Jidiwi ignored her protests.

“Would anyone even notice you here, with all this ruckus outside? No one would know if you… disappeared,” he said quietly, letting a shadow of threat linger in his tone.

“You’re threatening me?” Jinyoen raised her chin. “You can’t do anything to me.”

“Then what do you want in return?” Jidiwi asked, leaning against the doorway.

“You’re not going to stop until I sing, are you?” she muttered, realizing the futility of arguing.

“Yes,” he admitted simply.

Jinyoen let out a long sigh and lowered herself onto a cushion, muttering under her breath, “I’m doing this because I pity you. Only until you fall asleep, that’s all.”

She gathered a bunch of silk and fashioned a small pillow, then signaled for Jidiwi to lie down. Her voice softened as she began to sing, the gentle melody weaving through the room.

Soon, exhaustion from the day—and the emotional tension—washed over her. She laid herself down on the floor, letting herself rest. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she slept deeply.

Hours later, Jidiwi awoke with a start. A nightmare had jolted him from his sleep, and he noticed the girl still resting on the floor. Her hair fell in soft waves around her face, and for a moment he simply watched her, mesmerized. Since their first meeting, she had been in his dreams—her laughter, her voice, her presence haunting him.

A smile tugged at his lips as he lightly brushed her hair away from her face. She stirred slightly but did not wake. Carefully, almost reverently, he lifted her and placed her on the cushions he had been sleeping on. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before slipping quietly out of the room, leaving her in the safety of her own rest.

---

The next morning, sunlight filtered gently through the windows of Okta.

“My lady, you should wake up,” a familiar voice called.

Jinyoen’s eyes shot open, blinking against the light. She realized with a start that she was still at Okta. A surge of irritation crossed her face. *Ahro! How could you leave me here last night?*

As she stretched and gathered herself, she noticed the pillows she had arranged for her own comfort. A small, reluctant smile tugged at her lips. *No… it must have been him. Jidiwi carried me here.*

“Do you know where Ahro is?” she asked the person who had awakened her.

They shook their head, silently apologetic.

Walking back through the quiet streets, Jinyoen stumbled upon Ahro and Sooyeon.

“Ah! Thank you very much for leaving me in Okta yesterday, Ahro,” Jinyoen said sharply, glaring at her friend.

“I’m sorry, Jin. I thought you went home early,” Ahro replied sheepishly.

When Jinyoen recounted the events of the night, both friends leaned in, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Are you saying you… slept with him?” Sooyeon whispered, almost breathless.

“Was he… good looking?” Ahro asked, unable to hide her intrigue.

Jinyoen’s cheeks flushed, and she glared at them both. “Yes, he was good-looking. But no—we didn’t sleep together! And for your information, last night I stayed at Sooyeon’s place. Understood?”

Both girls shivered, nodding immediately. They knew better than to anger Jinyoen when her patience ran thin.
---

Later that day, Jinyoen accompanied Ahro to her home to see Ahro’s father, a man she considered almost like a second father. Only Ahro and her father knew her secret—that she was the daughter of Keng Haneul.

“Hello, Father, I…” Jinyoen began, but stopped abruptly. She noticed blood streaked across his face.

“Father! Are you all right? Are you hurt? Let me check!” she exclaimed, concern flooding her voice.

“There’s a serious patient inside,” Ahro’s father, Ahn Ji, said firmly. “Do not go in. And if anyone asks, tell them I’m on a trip to find herbs.”

“Father, do you need my help?” Jinyoen asked, worry etching her features.

“No, Jin. It’s fine. You two should rest,” he replied, his tone steady but strained.

Ahro exchanged a worried glance with Jinyoen. “How serious can it be? You are an excellent physician, Jin. Surely you can tell?”

Jinyoen shook her head slowly. “I haven’t seen him yet, Ahro. But I haven’t ever seen Father like this… it must be serious. I have to go now—I promised Yanwoo I’d help him find herbs.”

“Wait! Can I come with you? There’s nothing to do here,” Ahro asked.

“Very well,” Jinyoen said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Let’s go. We’re already late.”

Together, they hurried through the streets of Silla, unaware that unseen eyes had been following their every step.