A Wandering Story

Chapter 8: The firsts

The next morning, Rae frowned as she scanned the half-empty shelves. She was missing several key ingredients—some she could grab at the central city's grand market, but the rarer items would require a quiet trip to the Black Market. With a sigh, she set those plans aside and decided to make Massob, a dish she had learned from the village elders nearby. Comfort food would do well for today.

The sound of uneven footsteps interrupted her thoughts as Hangyeol stumbled down the stairs, his hair a wild mess, eyes still half-shut.

"Ah, Gyeollie—coffee or tea?" Rae called out as she poured hot water into her mug.

Hangyeol lifted a single finger in response. Coffee.

The coffee on Caeldora was sun-dried—a local delicacy with a rich, smoky flavor. As it began to drip slowly through the filter, Rae handed Hangyeol a steaming bowl of Massob. He took it with a grunt of thanks, slumping into a chair and nearly falling asleep again between bites.

A blur of movement shot into the kitchen. Sweets skidded to a stop beside the table, clutching a stack of envelopes.

"Rae! You need to go to the Palace today—urgent meeting about the poisonings." He handed her the top envelope. "It's getting worse."

Rae groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "Of course it is."

The Empress had been insufferable lately. Still bitter. Still smug. Elana had been the one who tried to poison Rae last season, and despite nearly killing someone, she remained protected by her lineage and her carefully curated lies. Now she spread rumors like wildfire—whispers that Rae was seducing the Emperor. It was laughable.

Well. Mostly.

The worst part was that some nobles believed it. They whispered behind her back, eyed her with curiosity and disdain, assuming she'd clawed her way into influence. Rae, for the most part, ignored them—but today, she wasn't in the mood.

The Emperor himself wasn't fooled. He had been a long-time friend of Taeyun—her Taeyun—in this world. He'd recognized Rae immediately, not by her face, but by the words Taeyun had once shared with him long ago. Something quiet. Something intimate.

You might wonder how Taeyun could be here, too. But time in this world? It isn't linear. It folds, it spins, and sometimes, it remembers. Taeyun exists—though he shouldn't. Though maybe he always did.

There's a reason time travel is illegal.

And Rae, unfortunately, knows precisely why.

If you tried it—really pushed it—you could vanish from existence entirely. That was the risk. Everyone knew it: the King of the Gods had made time travel impossible.

Or so they said.

There were rumors. Some whispered that a few reckless souls had succeeded, but the cost was steep. Their bodies bore the curse—spider-like black veins crawling up their limbs, marking them forever as those who had torn through the threads of time. Rae had seen the aftermath once. It haunted her.

She stared at the slow drip of the coffee, lost in that thought, when she felt small arms wrap tightly around her legs. She startled, blinking down—only to see Ambrose, sleep-flushed and clinging to Mystie in one hand.

"Good morning, my star," Rae said, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she ran her hand over his curls. "You ready for breakfast?"

Ambrose gave the softest nod, still drowsy. Rae bent down and scooped him into her arms, leaving the coffee to finish dripping behind her. She settled him into his high chair with practiced ease and served him a small bowl of Massob—gently sweetened; the spices dulled for his younger palate.