Moon's Whisper, Heart's Echo

29.The Mystery

Nandi's eyes fluttered open to find Tae-young examining a vase, the one Min-joon had accidentally cracked a year past. He turned it in his hands with careful reverence, thumb tracing the hairline fracture as if reading a story written in broken glaze.

The afternoon light caught his profile as he studied the damage, making him look almost ethereal. A strand of hair had escaped his topknot, falling across his brow in a way that made her fingers itch to brush it back.

"There she is." He set the vase down with practiced ease, as comfortable in her private quarters as he was in her office.

"Does she always need to put me to sleep?" Nandi massaged her temples, trying to gather scattered thoughts like fallen petals. "I'm starting to think it's her favorite trick."

"The infamous mudang?" Tae-young crossed to her side, fingers gentle as he smoothed her disheveled hair. One pin had come completely loose, and he tucked it carefully back into place. "I heard you paid her a visit. Quite the change of heart for someone who swore off shamans entirely."

"I'm still skeptical," she muttered, leaning into his touch despite herself.

"Says the woman who just let one put her in a trance." His thumb traced her hairline, the gesture oddly soothing. "What changed your mind?"

"Nothing. Everything." She caught his hand, stilling its movement. "How did I get home?"

"You don't remember the dramatic rescue?" His eyes danced. "How I swept in heroically when Ji-soo couldn't wake you?"

"You didn't."

"I did." He settled beside her, streching his arms as if they ached. "Though I'll admit, carrying an unconscious matchmaker through the streets did raise some eyebrows."

"You carried me?" She straightened, horrified. "Through the market district?"

"Would you prefer I left you drooling on the shaman's mat?"

"I do not drool—"

His finger traced her jawline. "I have evidence that suggests otherwise." His eyes held that touch of amusement and concern that was becoming dangerously familiar. "Though I'm more interested in what made our skeptical matchmaker seek out a shaman in the first place."

"I needed answers," she muttered, trying to sit up straighter. The room tilted alarmingly.

"Careful." His hand steadied her shoulder. "The mudang said the trance might leave you dizzy. Something about spirits taking their toll."

"Spirits," Nandi scoffed, though she didn't shake off his touch. "More likely it was whatever she burned in that censure. The smell alone was enough to—" She broke off, frowning. "Wait. You spoke with her?"

"I may have asked a few questions while you were..." He gestured vaguely at her disheveled state. "Communing with the other realm."

"I wasn't communing with anything. I was..." But the rest of the sentence evaporated as fragments of her vision flickered through her mind - shadows and smoke, voices that seemed to echo across years. She shivered despite herself.

"So, Lady Nandi..." His voice carried that particular lightness he used when trying to distract her. " Before I act in any way. I'm curious."

She squinted suspiciously." yess?"

She squinted suspiciously, trying to focus on his face through her lingering dizziness. "Yes?"

He gazed at her only for a moment, before he spoke.

"In all your matchmaking wisdom..." His voice softened. "Have you ever considered finding your own happiness again?"

The question was so unexpected she could only stare at him for a moment, her mind still clouded with half-remembered visions. "You're in quite a hurry to somewhere, Lord Park."