When Peony Blooms #AMBW

Chapter 20: "The Weight of Destiny's Crown"

As the evening wore down, the echoes of the festival's merriment dwindled, and Seo-jin and So-ra found themselves walking back towards the palace. The lanterns' glow faded into the distance, leaving them bathed in the soft moonlight. while they walked back in silence, the emotional weight of the night still heavy between them.

When they reached her quarters, So-ra turned to Seo-jin.

"Would you care for a drink?" So-ra invited. Seo-jin gave a curt nod, recognizing the need for solitude in her eyes.

They retired to her quarters, she fetched a bottle of rice wine from one of her cupboards and poured two tea glasses.

"Cheers," she said softly, lifting her glass towards Seo-jin. He returned the gesture and they clinked their glasses together, taking a sip of the sweet liquid.

For some time, they just sat there in silence. But then So-ra began to speak, her voice fragile yet determined as she recounted her mother's story.

As the night deepened, so did their conversation. With each passing hour, So-ra peeled back the layers of her story. The smiles she had worn in some parts of the faded, replaced by a raw vulnerability. There was a heaviness in her voice.

Tears welled up in her eyes, trailing down her cheeks, but she didn't bother to wipe them away.

"The Crown Prince... he was there... the day my mother...," she faltered, the words sticking in her throat. Her tears fell freely now, wetting the front of her hanbok. " Two days ago was her death anniversary, he hadn't said a thing."

She didn't need to finish the sentence. The look in her eyes told Seo-jin everything.

Seo-jin sat there, his silence offering a comforting presence as she let the memories flood out, memories that had been pent up for far too long.

As the night turned to the early hours of dawn, Seo-jin and So-ra remained in silence, their conversation lingering like a wisp of smoke in the air.

Eventually, So-ra fell asleep, her drunken face peaceful and relaxed. Seo-jin carefully laid a blanket over her before standing up to leave. As he reached outside, he heard someone walking. He turned back to see his father—Minister Kim—.

"Father," he greeted quietly, trying not to wake So-ra. Minister Kim nodded in reply before gesturing for Seo-jin to follow him.

Once they were alone, Minister Kim looked at his son, before asking why he was there. Seo-jin told his father about how he had come to comfort himself, but also listened to So-ra's story that had shed light on her past pain and suffering.

Minister Kim found himself steeped in thoughtful silence. An interlude of introspection passed before he finally disrupted the quietude, his words subdued but heavy, "As difficult as she may be, even she deserved better..."

These potent words marked the beginning of their slow, contemplative journey home, father and son swallowed by the enveloping hush of the night.

"Ji-Yeon," Minister Kim broke the silence once again, his voice infused with an unspoken depth of emotion.

Caught off-guard, Seo-jin queried his father, "What do you mean?"

"Her mother," Minister Kim clarified, his gaze steady on the path before them, "Her name was Ji-Yeon. She had a spirit that could ignite the dullest of rooms." With this brief introduction, Minister Kim opened the doorway to the past, commencing the poignant tale of So-ra's mother.

Years before So-ra's birth, the young servant Ji-Yeon had a fateful encounter. Her life in the palace was a series of endless chores and demanding orders from the nobles. Yet she bore it all with graceful patience, her kindness known throughout the palace.