Moon's Whisper, Heart's Echo

34.The memory

The screen door to Jae-hoon's chambers whispered open beneath Nandi's touch.

Inside, shadows danced across paper walls like restless spirits, cast by a single guttering candle.

Herbal medicine and something sharper - the metallic tang of fresh blood hovered around her.

He lay curled on his side, hair loose and wild around his face.

"Nandi?" His fever-bright eyes found her, hope and despair warring in his gaze. "You came."

She remained in the doorway, one hand still gripping the frame.

"Your wife asked me to come."

"Wife?" He laughed, the sound splintering like dropped porcelain. "But you're my..." His fingers reached toward her before falling back. "Actually. Do you remember the persimmon trees? How the fruit would stain your fingers red..."

"Lord Yi—"

"Don't." The word came out as a plea. "Don't call me that. Not you." He struggled to sit up, sweat-dampened robes tangling around him. "Not when you used to..."

"He's been like this for days," Eun-soo said softly. "Speaking of fires and..."

But Nandi barely heard her. Something about his grip, about the desperation in his voice, struck wrong notes in a melody she thought she knew by heart.

She's spoken to this man before. This was her brother-in-law she seemed to silently remind herself.

"Let go." She tried to pull away, but his fingers only tightened."You're delirious..."

" I've only now began sane."

"This behavior isn't helping the confusion with your wife." She took a step back, but his next words froze her.

"The herbs mother gave you," he muttered, plucking restlessly at his blanket. "I should have known. Should have tested them first..." His fingers twisted in the fabric. "Before they killed... I let them kill."

"What are you speaking on?" Nandi stepped closer despite herself, drawn by the raw anguish in his voice.

He rocked forward suddenly, nearly pitching off the bed. "The tea. Her special recipe." His laugh held no humor. "For your health, she said. But I saw the records. Every date, every loss... written in her own hand."

"Lord Yi, you're not making sense—"

"Have to check the garden." His gaze darted to the window. "Before the fire takes everything again..." He tried to stand, robes tangling around his legs.

Nandi caught his arm before he could fall. "Please, you need to rest."

"Why wasn't I stronger?" He gripped her wrist, staring at her face like a man dying of thirst. "To protect you? To protect our..." His voice cracked. "Our children..."

"Lord Yi!" She tried to pull away. "You're being unlike yourself."

"Nandi..." His face crumpled, tears cutting tracks through the fever-sweat on his cheeks. "I want to die, Nandi. Every day, watching you with him, watching you smile at him..." He slumped forward, forehead pressing against her arm. "Do you know what that's like? Wearing this face while you look through me?"

She stumbled back, uncomfortable, but movement in the corner caught her eye. Behind the medicine boxes sat a folded painting screen, partially hidden. A glimpse of dawn-colored silk captured in ink – the same shade as her wedding hanbok.