Moon's Whisper, Heart's Echo

26.The Union

Ji-soo's fingers worked through Nandi's coils, the scent of camellia oil rising with the steam. Evening had crept in like a shy cat, and the paper lamps cast long shadows across the wooden floor.

"You're thinking too hard again," Ji-soo murmured, separating another section of hair. "I can feel it in your neck."

"I'm not—" Nandi started, but Young-ah's hurried footsteps cut through her protest.

"My lady!" Young-ah appeared in the doorway, slightly breathless. "Young Master Park is here with young master Min-joon. The boy fell asleep during their walk and..." She hesitated, glancing at Nandi's state of undress, the cotton wrap protecting her shoulders from the oil. "Should I tell them to wait?"

"I can take over," Young-ah offered, already reaching for the cloth in Ji-soo's hands.

"There's no need to—" Nandi began, but Tae-young's voice carried from the courtyard, followed by the soft sound of Min-joon's drowsy mumbling.

"Shh, little scholar," Tae-young's voice grew closer. "Let's get you to your mother."

Ji-soo barely had time to adjust the wrap around Nandi's shoulders before Tae-young appeared in the doorway, Min-joon cradled against his chest. The boy clutched something wooden – another of Lord Park's carvings, Nandi realized with a flutter of unease.

"My apologies for the interruption," Tae-young said, though his eyes lingered on Nandi's exposed neck, the way her hair curled untamed around her face. "He insisted on showing you his new treasure before bed."

"I told your mother these gifts weren't necessary," Nandi said softly, watching Min-joon's fingers curl tighter around the carved horse even in sleep.

Ji-soo's hands stilled in her hair. Young-ah shifted, uncertain whether to stay or go.

"Funny," Tae-young's voice held a warmth that made Nandi's skin prickle beneath the wrap. "I don't recall my mother asking permission to dote on her grandson."

"He's not—" Nandi started.

"Not what?" Tae-young challenged gently, adjusting Min-joon's weight against his shoulder. "Not worthy of my father's carvings? Not deserving of my mother's affection?"

"Not your responsibility," Nandi finished, meeting his gaze despite the vulnerability of her half-dressed state.

Something flickered in Tae-young's eyes. "And if I want him to be?"

The silence stretched like a silk thread about to snap. Ji-soo's fingers resumed their work, but slower now, as if afraid any sudden movement might break whatever was building in the air.

"Young-ah," Tae-young said finally, his eyes never leaving Nandi's. "Would you help settle Min-joon in his room? I need a moment with his mother."

Young-ah stepped forward, carefully taking the sleeping boy. Min-joon stirred, the carved horse slipping from his fingers. Tae-young caught it before it could fall.

"Ji-soo," Nandi said quietly. "Perhaps you could..."

"Of course, my lady." Ji-soo's hands withdrew, leaving Nandi's hair half-finished, the wrap still clinging to her shoulders.

When the servants had gone, taking Min-joon with them, Tae-young turned the wooden horse over in his hands. The lamplight caught its flowing mane, carved so delicately it seemed ready to move in the evening breeze.

"Do you know what Min-joon asked me today?" His voice was soft, meant only for her.

Nandi's fingers tightened on the wrap. "What?"