My Songbird's Dream

30. As lilies bloom

January, 1945
Occupied Seoul

Moonlight filtered into the quiet bedroom, glinting off the crystal decanter as Madame Park methodically poured a measure of plum wine. She swirled the dark liquid, staring sightlessly out the frost-etched window as her husband struggled to prop himself up against the pillows, his breath rattling with effort.

"Staring out the window won't make the troubles go away, my dear," he said gently, reaching out a frail hand.

Madame Park turned, a wisp of a smile touching her lips as she accepted his comforting gesture. Yet she remained silent, gripped by an unnamed sorrow.

Her husband gazed at her with eyes still bright despite his failing body. "Allow me to shoulder this burden that steals your rest and peace, beloved."

At that, Madame Park released a heavy sigh, the cut glass edges of the tumbler pressing into her palm. "Some troubles run too deep and twisted for any one person's unraveling, my love." She cradled the untouched wine, finding little solace in its muted bouquet.

Shadows gathered in the hollows of her lovely face as she turned again to the window, the icy moonlight revealing the tracks of tears she could no longer restrain.

Behind them, braziers guttered low, casting wavering shadows across the bedchamber walls. The embroidered bed curtains swayed in the winter breeze slipping icy tendrils through the cracks in the window frame. Madame Park shivered, feeling the omens whispering in the darkened room as if they mocked her stoicism.

Master Park squeezed her hand imploringly, his parchment-thin skin against hers. "At least help me understand what catastrophe has silenced your strong spirit, my love." He searched her elegant profile framed against the silvery glow of old Seoul outside their walls. "I would shoulder this weight with you, if you let me."

Madame Park shut her eyes against a fresh surge of grief. She caressed her husband's sun-spotted temple, wishing fruitlessly that she could smooth away the deepening shadows there through sheer force of will.

Slowly, she bent down to press a fervent kiss to Master Park's forehead, inhaling the subtle ghost of sandalwood that lingered as a reminder of his long-ago youth and joy. 

"You must focus your strength simply on recovering, my heart, so that we can face the uncertain tomorrows together," she whispered, tears glimmering just out of sight. Gently she touched their brows together in wordless communion born from decades of unspoken understanding.

"Some revelations cannot be unspoken, nor amends fully made. But know that I fight fiercely as ever for the spirit of our family." Her voice echoed with emotion she could no longer restrain.

Master Park gazed up at his wife's fierce promise glowing behind the sheen of grief in her eyes. Wordless, he lifted one frail hand to gently wipe a betraying droplet from her cheek.

After a while Madame Park sank into the leather embrace of her dressing chair, the rustle of silk underskirts loud in the stuffy bedchamber.

The clock on the mantle ticked mockingly as her husband's labored breathing settled into the uneasy rhythms of troubled sleep. She stared at her reflection in the vanity mirror - still fully gowned in the finery. However quickly changing. Too embarrassed to go back.

Two nights has passed since Etta had revealed the devastating truth of Yong-su's monstrous past misdeeds. The memories surged through Madame Park anew, discomforting and terrible. She had fled their house in anguish, too distraught to stay. Now, alone with her tormenting thoughts, harsh truths gnawed at her.

"I raised a covetous monster in Yong-su..." she whispered, the haunting eyes in the mirror echoing her disbelief. "I gave him every advantage - yet still he turned cruel. But how?"