Moon's Whisper, Heart's Echo

4.The Artist

Scholar Kim's brush caught the curve of her shoulder, bruise shaded ink bleeding into the rice paper like spilled wine.

Madam Jin held perfectly still, save for the slight rise and fall of her breath beneath grey silk. Morning sunlight spilled through the screens, catching the jade pins in her hair, the gold thread that traced phoenixes across her skirts.

He paused, lifting the brush to examine his work. A drop of ink fell, staining his fingertip black.

The woman before him smiled, "Your technique has improved." She reclined against silk cushions, her jeogori a deep wine red that caught the light. "Though there are other arts I could teach you."

He smiled without looking up, reaching for a clean cloth to wipe his hands. "Your guidance with the brush is more than sufficient."

"Is it?" She shifted gracefully.

When he didn't respond, she laughed softly. "Did you meet her?"

His attention remained on his work, each stroke measured and precise. "You've shifted."

"Have I?" Her voice carried that practiced musical lilt that had drawn ministers and princes to her door. She adjusted her position, the movement causing her jeogori to slip ever so slightly from her shoulder. "Better?"

"In passing. I've seen her in passing." The cloth moved methodically between his fingers, cleaning away the ink.

His expression didn't change as he reached for a fresh sheet.

"You're wasting paper," she observed, watching his hands as he prepared the new sheet with practiced motions. "Though I suppose that's your privilege... among other things you waste."

He continued his work in silence, capturing the drape of silk across her form, the elegant line of her neck. She watched his face, noting how his eyes moved over her with an artist's detachment that both intrigued and irritated her.

"In passing,'" she repeated, tasting the words like sour wine. "Always so careful with your words."

His only response was a slight scoff and a gesture for her to return to her pose.

"So..." she began carefully, letting her outer robe slip further, revealing the cream silk underneath. "The matchmaker. Your new subject. They say she came from across the sea, that her skin is dark as midnight." Her fingers toyed with the ribbon at her collar. "Does she satisfy your... artistic curiosity?"

The brush paused mid-stroke. "You're moving again."

Madam Jin rose in one fluid motion, silk whispering against silk. She moved behind him, close enough that he could smell the blossom oil in her hair. "Perhaps we should try a different pose?" Her breath warmed his ear as her fingers traced the line of his shoulder. "Something more... intimate? You take and take my time, yet give so little in return."

"I pay your establishment generously."

"Not in the way I want." Her fingers found his shoulder, pressing just so. "Why seek her out at all?"

He set the brush down with precision, then caught her wrist before her hand could slide lower. His grip was gentle but immovable. "A pity. The light is wrong now," he said softly. "We'll have to continue another time."

She pulled her hand free, adjusting her robes. The shame of rejection colored her cheeks beneath the white powder. "Another time," she echoed, her smile sharp as a blade. "Like so many other things you defer." She moved toward the door. At the threshold, she paused. "Did you know she was a nobleman's wife? Before the fire, before she fled here with that child..."