Two For the Price of One, Ch. 15
Previously:
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Disclaimer: The SKKS-verse belongs to the creators of Sungkyunkwan Scandal.
Technical Notes: The ship jangsaeng are also known as the Ten Symbols of Longevity, which are popular motifs in Korean traditional paintings.
Author's Notes: I'm back, after an epic struggle to finish this chapter (I'm still not 100% satisfied with it) and numerous distractions both writing-wise and IRL. Hopefully the rest of the fic will be faster to write - though I think I've said that before. Thanks to tapzz, naddyamal, and knweaye for reviewing the previous chapter!
Chapter Fifteen
It was fortunate that Yong-ha and Iseul reached an accord when they did, because after that Iseul needed to spend a lot more time at the Gu home. Yong-ha's mother decided that the screen that Iseul was painting would look “just wonderful” if the family were depicted in it, which then required everyone to pose for sketches.
Master Gu was looking decidedly disgruntled when Yong-ha arrived home that afternoon. “Is there a problem, Abeonim?” he asked.
Madam Hong, who was walking behind her husband, waved him off. “Everything's fine. Your father just had to sit for Teacher Kim today.”
“A waste of time,” the older man growled.
“Oh, stop,” his wife chided. “We were seated comfortably, and she let us move around every so often to keep from getting stiff.”
Yong-ha chuckled as his parents procceded down the corridor, still bickering. Things would be easier-although far less entertaining-if his father just admitted that he was indulging his wife's caprices.
“Is there a problem?”
He turned back and grinned at Iseul, who was peeking out of the room that had been set aside for her to work. “Everything's fine,” he reassured her. “My father is just making a big show out of having to indulge my mother, that's all.
“How did the sketching go?” he asked then, entering the workroom and walking towards the low table littered with paper and charcoal sticks. “May I see?”
“They're just rough drawings,” she warned him. “I have some idea of how it will look, but nothing is final yet.”
Yong-ha nodded as she looked over her sketches. “Nevertheless, these are very good. That is exactly the way my father sits-I should know, he lectures me from that position often enough.”
She chuckled softly. “Thank you.”
He studied her profile for a moment, realized he was doing so, and then cleared his throat. “Hwa-jae seems to be lying low at the moment,” he remarked in a low voice.
Iseul's eyes flew to his, and then around the room to check if anyone else could have overheard. “Ye-es,” she said when she had assured herself that they were alone. “I, ah, think I overextended myself while Halmeonim was ill, so now that she is out of danger I have decided to limit myself to teaching my regular students and painting this screen-at least for the time being.”
Yong-ha wanted to ask if the household could get by if she did that, but wisely held his tongue. He had already gotten in trouble once with that sort of talk, and was certain that Iseul had carefully considered all the financial implications of her decision. Instead, he said, “We can't have you getting sick yourself.”
“Besides,” she added with an impish smile, “I cannot have Hwa-jae be too available. It will bring my prices down.”
He had to chuckle at that. “That's wise. Are you finished working for the day?”
Iseul surveyed the mess of drawing materials on the worktable, then sighed and sat down to begin packing them away. “I suppose I should stop for now, otherwise I will start trying out different poses and completely lose track of time.”
“Do you have a lesson?” he asked, kneeling down to help her. “I could take you to wherever you need to go.”
“That won't be necessary.” She glanced at the weak winter daylight filtering in through the rice paper windowpanes. “It's still bright outside. Besides, you're already at home. It wouldn't make sense to go out again.”
Yong-ha waved away her protests. “It will get dark soon. You should not go home alone, and it would be cruel to send for your servant to come and fetch you in this cold.
“Besides,” he added with a mischievous smile of his own, “I want to visit Halmeonim, but cannot turn up empty-handed. What better present can I give her than her precious granddaughter, home safe and sound?”
“It's not too cold, is it, Halmeonim?”
A laugh issued from the bundle of blankets huddled between Yong-ha and Iseul. “How could I possibly be cold when you've wrapped me in every blanket in the house?”
“We don't want you catching a chill again,” Yong-ha told her. Beside him, Kyo-eul whined and thumped his tail worshipfully, which earned him a fond pat on the head. “Your illness had us very worried.”
“I did sense that.” Madam Park sighed. “But now you're relaxed around each other again. I'm glad, and sorry to have worried you so.”
Blushing, Iseul exchanged rueful glances with Yong-ha. Apparently, they had not hidden their quarrel as well as they had thought. “Think nothing of it, Halmeonim,” she mumbled. “Everything turned out for the best.”
The blankets shifted as her grandmother nodded. “Yes, it did; and now that I am better, you can begin planning the wedding!”
She froze at that. “Ah... but....”
“We must consult an astrologer soon,” Madam Park continued enthusiastically. “Madam Im, the dyer, was recommending one before I got sick. Let me get the name from her again and we'll-“
“Oh, dear,” Yong-ha said suddenly. “I'm afraid this isn't a good time for me. I need to start thinking about the styles that my shop will offer in the spring.”
“Spring?!” the old woman repeated in disbelief. “But we're barely into winter!”
“I know, but I must think of these things a season in advance. It's how I stay ahead of my competition.”
This latest excuse to stall the wedding preparations helped Iseul regain her powers of speech. “Y-you said yourself, Halmeonim, that Yong-ha's shop is the best,” she pointed out. “Of course, he has to work very hard if his shop is to remain so.”
“Of course,” Madam Park agreed, sounding so disappointed that her granddaughter couldn't help feeling a little bit guilty.
“I wish we could proceed with planning the wedding and not need to worry about anything else, Halmeonim,” Yong-ha said gently to the old woman, “but I must make a living, especially now that I'll soon have a wife to support. We can see the astrologer when I'm no longer so busy.”
“I guess that's what we will have to do. I'll get the name from Madam Im, at least-that way, we'll be ready to make an appointment the next time you are free. You'll let me know, won't you?”
“Of course I will.”
Iseul's eyes met Yong-ha's over her grandmother's head and she shot him a grateful look. He smiled and gave her a little wink. It wasn't the first time he had winked at her, but for some reason, this time caused a her heart to flutter strangely.
She covered up her discomfiture by trying to distract her grandmother further. “You can probably ask Madam Im about it when she comes to visit, Halmeonim,” she suggested.
If they were lucky, it would be a long time before the dyer visited again and Madam Park would have forgotten all about the astrologer by then. If not, then Yong-ha would have to stay very busy for the foreseeable future.
“That was a close escape,” Yong-ha said a few days later. “Has Halmeonim said anything more about planning the wedding?”
“No.” Iseul glanced up, peered at him closely, then cast her eyes down again. “She's preoccupied with getting stronger; fortunately for us, she's fixated on that at the moment.”
“Yes, that is fortunate,” he agreed. “May I move now?”
“No.”
He pouted. “But my arms hurt.”
“I wish you wouldn't make that face, Yong-ha,” Madam Hong complained from where she sat beside Iseul. “It's not at all attractive.”
Iseul looked up from the sketch before her and studied him for a long moment. “It's all right, madam,” she assured the older woman. “He makes that face whenever he wants something.
“Clearly,” she added with a sweet smile in Yong-ha's direction, “he wishes me to paint him looking that way.”
“That is not it at all,” he complained, but assumed a more pleasant expression nonetheless.
The smile grew into a full-fledged grin. “Well, it wasn't my idea for you to be standing in your portrait,” Iseul pointed out, chuckling. “In fact, I suggested that you be seated, like the rest of your family.” Both Yong-ha's father and brother had opted to pose seated at their worktables, with their wives at their sides.
“I wanted to be different. I just had no idea of the price I would need to pay.”
She sketched in silence for a few moments before laying down her charcoal stick with a sigh. “All right, all right, you can rest for a while. I think I've got the pose mostly done, anyway.
“Of course,” she couldn't help but add, “if you don't like it, then you can pose all over again.”
“I'm sure it's perfect.”
“You're standing clear across the room,” his mother pointed out.
“I'm more than familiar with Teacher Kim's work by now, Omonim,” Yong-ha said, “so I am absolutely certain that the drawing is perfect.” He made his way over to them and gave the sketch a cursory look. “See, what did I tell you? Perfect.”
“You just don't want to pose anymore,” Madam Hong accused, but a smile played around her lips.
“What's going on here?” Master Gu stuck his head through the doorway and frowned at his wife and son. “Are you bothering Teacher Kim?”
“I'm posing, Abeonim,” Yong-ha told him quickly. “I mean, I was posing. I'm taking a break right now.” He grimaced and rotated his shoulders. “My arms were getting stiff.”
“And I'm supervising,” his mother added. “After all, I ordered the screen. I think I'm entitled to have some control over how it will look.”
Despite these explanations, Yong-ha's father still looked skeptical, so Iseul hastened to smooth things over. “It's all right, Master Gu; they weren't bothering me at all. As a teacher, I'm quite accustomed to having people watch me work.”
The older man harrumphed. “If you say so,” he said, and wandered over to have a look at the sketch. “Looks good. Are you going with that pose?”
“It's what your son wants,” Madam Hong sighed. “It also means his panel will have to go in the middle. It would look terribly awkward if everyone were seated except for Yong-ha, standing by himself at the end.”
“That's exactly what I was hoping you would say, Omonim,” Yong-ha said with a brilliant smile.
“You always have to be the center of attention,” Master Gu remarked, arching an eyebrow at his son, then turned back to Iseul. “Are you nearly done making drawings of us, then? Will you be able to start working on the actual screen?”
“Soon, sir,” she assured him. She had not missed his discreet glance at one corner of the room, which held a stack of silk panels. The fabric had already been treated and stretched over wooden frames, and was ready to be painted. “Yong-ha is the last one to pose for me, and I have discussed with the madam on how she would like the ship jangsaeng to be featured. I've been working on a possible design and, once the madam approves, I will begin painting the panels.”
Her progress report was met with an approving nod. “Excellent,” said Master Gu. “I look forward to seeing it take shape.”
Iseul's sketch must have been good, or else Madam Hong had also picked up on her husband's impatience for work on the screen to proceed, for the proposed design was accepted with minimal quibbling.
Yong-ha watched, barely breathing, as Iseul painted the outline of a stand of pine trees onto the first panel. For a moment, he felt like a little boy again, spellbound by the wonders taking shape beneath Madam Park's needle; but that feeling passed quickly, for the man was eventually distracted by the graceful lines of Iseul's arm as it held the paintbrush, the glint of the amber garakji that still dangled around her neck, and the scent of the perfume he had chosen for her.
(He had done well in selecting that particular fragrance, he thought. Perhaps too well....)
He started, nearly dropping the ledger he was supposed to be studying, when someone tapped his shoulder, and again when he turned to discover his father at his side. “Still posing, are you?” Master Gu asked, speaking in a low voice to avoid disrupting Iseul's work.
“Quality control,” he whispered back.
The older man quirked a quizzical eyebrow, but Iseul interrupted before he could reply. “Good afternoon, Master Gu,” she greeted him, straightening and carefully setting aside her brush. “How are you today?”
Yong-ha hid a smile as his father assumed a more polite expression to address her. “Very well, thank you, Teacher Kim. I just came in to make sure that this rascal wasn't disturbing you.”
“I'm working, too, Abeonim,” he said, holding up his ledger with a wounded air. Several others, some of which were actually open, were on the worktable in front of him along with writing materials and an abacus for making calculations.
His father harrumphed. “Still, I don't understand why you need to hang about here, of all places.”
“Well, first of all, it's quiet here,” Yong-ha explained. “Most suitable for concentrating on my accounts. Second, it's convenient when I need to consult Iseul about Chamber of Commerce matters-during her breaks, of course,” he hastened to clarify. “And finally, it would be a waste to work elsewhere and have another furnace lit, wouldn't it?”
Iseul chuckled softly at the glare that Master Gu sent his son. “It really is all right, Master Gu,” she said as she stretched out her arm, which felt a bit stiff from holding the brush for such a long time. “Yong-ha was so quiet that I barely knew he was there.
“He used to watch my grandmother work, back when she used to do embroidery for the madam,” she added. “I suppose you could say that my Halmeonim trained him well.”
Master Gu harrumphed at that, but allowed his attention to shift towards the work in progress before her. “That's very nice. But you are not doing the portraits first?”
Iseul smiled. Had he hoped to see what his would look like? “I am afraid not, sir. There is a lot of pressure in doing portraits, so I need to work my way up to that.”
“Ah, is that so? Well, no need to push yourself if it will affect your results. Have you had anything to eat? Yong-ha, have the servants bring this poor girl some food and something warm to drink!”
The younger man grinned and got to his feet. “Right away, Abeonim. I'll tell them to bring a lot-there is a Chamber meeting coming up, so there is much that Iseul and I need to discuss.”
“In that case, have them bring some for me as well.” Master Gu settled himself more comfortably next to Yong-ha's worktable. “If this is about business, then I should hear about it.”
Yong-ha was so quiet that I barely knew he was there.
That was not entirely true, Iseul thought to herself as she crossed the marketplace a few days after that conversation with Master Gu. Yong-ha indeed tried to stay as unobtrusive as possible, but she always seemed to sense when he was watching her. However, that wasn't something she could say to his father.
“Vegetable seller's closed,” rumbled Chin-hae, walking behind her with that day's shopping.
“I suppose Master Choo doesn't have much to sell these days,” she replied.
Although people still traded in the wintertime, the buzz of activity seemed greatly subdued. Vendors of fresh produce closed for the season, or sold limited stocks of grain or root crops. Other shops selling non-perishable items remained open, but storekeepers kept their doors and windows shut against the cold. Only a few people were out and about these days, preferring to do their errands quickly so that they could return home where it was warm.
A stiff breeze blew, ruffling Iseul's skirts and sending fingers of cold air around her ankles. “Omo! Teacher Kim!” a woman called. “What are you doing out in this weather?”
She managed to suppress a cringe before turning to greet the speaker with a cordial smile. “Hello, Madam Sung.”
The ahjumma bustled out of her shop, wrapping her fur-lined winter vest more securely around herself. “Are you still working these days?”
“Yes, madam. Most of my students are carrying on with their lessons, and Madam Hong has commissioned me to do some work for her.”
“Madam Hong? Gu Yong-ha's mother?” Madam Sung eyed her speculatively. “That means you'll be spending a lot of time at your betrothed's house. Is that at all proper?”
“Well, if we are to be married anyway, I might as well get accustomed to being in his house, should I not?”
Iseul tried her best to keep her tone light-even mustered a polite little laugh-but must have not done a good job in hiding her annoyance, for Madam Sung laid a hand on her arm in a placating gesture. “Oh, Teacher Kim,” the older woman said, “I hope you understand that I speak out of concern for your well-being. It's in your best interests to still observe the proprieties while you and Master Gu are not yet wed.”
“Please be assured, madam, that nothing improper is going on. I have my grandmother and my family's reputation to think of, after all.” She glanced over her shoulder at Chin-hae, still standing behind her with the shopping basket. “Speaking of which, we must be on our way. Our housekeeper is waiting for the things that we bought.”
“Please wait a moment!” Madam Sung rushed into her shop and came out again with a small parcel, which she pressed upon Iseul. “Please take this for your grandmother, a small gift from me. I'm so glad she's doing better.”
Iseul noted the desperation in the older woman's eyes, supposed that Madam Sung was afraid of burning bridges with the future daughter-in-law of one of Joseon's wealthiest families, and promptly softened her expression. Oh, if she only knew.... “Thank you, Madam Sung,” she said with a genuine smile. “I'm sure Halmeonim will enjoy this, and I will definitely remember you to her. Now, please excuse us, we must be on our way.” She bowed politely. “Good day.”
Yong-ha yawned and pushed away his abacus. “Ya, how are you coming along over there?” he called across the room. “Are you still alive?”
“Ye-e-es....” Iseul replied faintly, not bothering to look up from her work. Three of the four panels that would not contain depictions of the family were already covered with delicate tracings of black. Once all the figures on the panels had been outlined, she said, she would finally add color to highlight and add dimension.
“You've been working practically nonstop since this morning, and it's full dark now. Should you not call it a day already?”
As the work on his mother's screen began in earnest, he discovered that she tended to become quite obsessive when painting; prior to this, he had only ever seen her do quick sketches in charcoal or small embellishments on the garments he sold-nothing that demanded this level of commitment.
“Halmeonim might be wondering where you are,” Yong-ha remembered to add.
He had not thought to mention Madam Park when he first had to pry Iseul away from her work at the end of the day, so initially it was difficult to convince her to go home and rest. Fortunately, he had learned quickly, telling himself that a little emotional blackmail was acceptable if it was for Iseul's own good.
“You're right,” she sighed. “Let me just finish this fish and I will stop for the day.”
“Good girl.” He had her word, but just for good measure, he watched her draw the outline of the fish and set aside her paintbrush as promised when it was finished. “Are you all right?” he asked as she bent and extended her arm and fingers, wincing as she did so.
“I'm fine.” Iseul gave him a pained smile. “Just the usual stiffness from painting all day.”
Yong-ha tsked and rose to cross to her side of the room. “You really should rest your hand more often,” he chided. “And keep it warm whenever you can, especially now that it's winter. You might do lasting damage to your hand if you keep up this pace. How will you work if you do not take care of yourself?”
“I know,” she said. “But you cannot imagine how it feels when you are doing well on project. It feels-“ She stopped short when she realized that he had been massaging her hand with both of his for the past several moments. “It feels... as though you have to keep going.”
Their eyes met, Yong-ha looking as though he had also just realized what he was doing, and the thumb rubbing the back of her hand dragged to a stop. Iseul thought he would release her, but instead he leaned over and covered her lips with his own.
Omona.
She had thought herself quite worldly after the first kiss she had requested from him, but that one was a pale imitation of what she was experiencing now. That first one, though pleasant, had been tentative, even clinical. In comparison, this kiss was from a man who knew what he was about-a man who knew just how to angle his head, how hard to nibble on her lower lip, how to tease her lips apart so that he could explore.
So that's how it's done.
Iseul's eyes flew open when he pulled away and jumped to his feet. It took her a moment to register that someone was calling their names, and she quickly turned away to hide her face. “O-omo, my brushes,” she said in a voice that she barely recognized as her own. “I should clean them or the ink might freeze.”
Yong-ha cleared this throat. “There-there might still be some water on the brazier.” He stood like a lump for an awkward moment or two before spinning on his heel and starting for the door, mumbling something about going to the kitchen for more.
He bumped into his brother just outside the door. “Ah, hyung!” he greeted him with as casual a tone as he could muster. “Were you looking for me?”
An-jeong nodded. “Abeonim asked me to check if Teacher Kim is still here.”
“Yes! Yes, she is.” He gestured towards the door to the workroom. “She's inside, packing up her things.”
“That's good. She has been here the whole day and must be tired. Does she need a servant to see her home?”
Briefly, Yong-ha thought that it might be a good idea to have someone else escort his “betrothed” this time, but decided against it. “I will take care of that,” he said. Perhaps he could take it as an opportunity to explain his actions... once he came up with such an explanation.
He then realized that An-jeong was looking at him oddly. “What?” he asked. “What's wrong?”
“Just that your clothes are a little rumpled.” The other man reached out to straighten the front of Yong-ha's overcoat, which no longer lay flat under his belt. “I can't believe you, of all people, are letting yourself walk around like that.”
“Ah.” He reddened, trying not to think about how that might have happened. “Well, thanks.”
An-jeong waited for his brother to leave, and listened briefly at the workroom door to make sure that Iseul was all right, before finally allowing himself to grin. Anyone could tell from the poleaxed look on Yong-ha's face-and his failure to notice that his clothes were in disarray-that something had happened in that room just moments ago.
The pair had been playing at being betrothed for quite a while now, and did not seem to be in any hurry to end things. As time passed, An-jeong grew increasingly worried about how the situation might be resolved with minimal damage to all involved. It had not occurred to him until now that an honest-to-goodness wedding was an option.
He was still grinning when he returned to the room he shared with his wife. Hearing the door open, Geun-hye looked up from her sewing and gave him a slightly puzzled look. “What is so amusing?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing much.” An-jeong sat down beside her and smiled at the tiny garments she was making. They were a present for his parents, to convey the happy news that Geun-hye had finally conceived. “It's just funny how things work out, that's all.”
Say something.
Given recent events, it was no surprise that the ride to Iseul's home was steeped in stilted silence. Yong-ha had hoped they use the time to could talk things over and move past the incident, but he had no idea what to say.
At first, he thought that the kiss had simply been a mad impulse; then he supposed that it could have been the result of spending weeks in such close quarters. Or perhaps he had been drunk-could one get drunk from the smell of ink and too much bookkeeping? (This would have been much easier if alcohol had been involved!) And what were they to do now? It was a good thing that no one had seen them, or else they would be in an even bigger bind.
Yong-ha tried his best to sift through his jumbled thoughts, but all he could think about was how right it had felt to kiss Kim Iseul.
Say something.
For her part, Iseul spent most of the trip home willing herself to calm down. It was just a kiss-a very nice one, but just a kiss nevertheless. People kissed all the time, even though the elders (like Madam Sung, she supposed) still believed that it was appropriate only for married couples.
That still left the question of why Yong-ha had kissed her this time; she supposed she would deal with the explanation when he actually offered one. In the meantime, the best way forward was to act as though nothing extraordinary had taken place, but she was at a loss as to how to make that happen.
Iseul broke the silence when they stopped in the Kims' front yard. “Thank you,” she murmured as he helped her dismount.
With a bow, she made to leave, but Yong-ha took her arm before she could go. “Iseul, wait.”
She chanced a look at his face, but her eyes quickly skittered away again at the intent look she saw there. “What-what is it?”
“I just-“
“She's here,” Chin-hae's voice rumbled before Yong-ha could say anything more, and Iseul turned to see the burly manservant emerge from the house with another person in tow.
Recognizing the second person, she exclaimed, “Master Jo! What brings you here?”
The Ma servant's face was ashen and grave in the winter moonlight. “Agasshi, I am sorry to be the bringer of bad news, but your grandfather has died.”
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Disclaimer: The SKKS-verse belongs to the creators of Sungkyunkwan Scandal.
Technical Notes: The ship jangsaeng are also known as the Ten Symbols of Longevity, which are popular motifs in Korean traditional paintings.
Author's Notes: I'm back, after an epic struggle to finish this chapter (I'm still not 100% satisfied with it) and numerous distractions both writing-wise and IRL. Hopefully the rest of the fic will be faster to write - though I think I've said that before. Thanks to tapzz, naddyamal, and knweaye for reviewing the previous chapter!
Chapter Fifteen
It was fortunate that Yong-ha and Iseul reached an accord when they did, because after that Iseul needed to spend a lot more time at the Gu home. Yong-ha's mother decided that the screen that Iseul was painting would look “just wonderful” if the family were depicted in it, which then required everyone to pose for sketches.
Master Gu was looking decidedly disgruntled when Yong-ha arrived home that afternoon. “Is there a problem, Abeonim?” he asked.
Madam Hong, who was walking behind her husband, waved him off. “Everything's fine. Your father just had to sit for Teacher Kim today.”
“A waste of time,” the older man growled.
“Oh, stop,” his wife chided. “We were seated comfortably, and she let us move around every so often to keep from getting stiff.”
Yong-ha chuckled as his parents procceded down the corridor, still bickering. Things would be easier-although far less entertaining-if his father just admitted that he was indulging his wife's caprices.
“Is there a problem?”
He turned back and grinned at Iseul, who was peeking out of the room that had been set aside for her to work. “Everything's fine,” he reassured her. “My father is just making a big show out of having to indulge my mother, that's all.
“How did the sketching go?” he asked then, entering the workroom and walking towards the low table littered with paper and charcoal sticks. “May I see?”
“They're just rough drawings,” she warned him. “I have some idea of how it will look, but nothing is final yet.”
Yong-ha nodded as she looked over her sketches. “Nevertheless, these are very good. That is exactly the way my father sits-I should know, he lectures me from that position often enough.”
She chuckled softly. “Thank you.”
He studied her profile for a moment, realized he was doing so, and then cleared his throat. “Hwa-jae seems to be lying low at the moment,” he remarked in a low voice.
Iseul's eyes flew to his, and then around the room to check if anyone else could have overheard. “Ye-es,” she said when she had assured herself that they were alone. “I, ah, think I overextended myself while Halmeonim was ill, so now that she is out of danger I have decided to limit myself to teaching my regular students and painting this screen-at least for the time being.”
Yong-ha wanted to ask if the household could get by if she did that, but wisely held his tongue. He had already gotten in trouble once with that sort of talk, and was certain that Iseul had carefully considered all the financial implications of her decision. Instead, he said, “We can't have you getting sick yourself.”
“Besides,” she added with an impish smile, “I cannot have Hwa-jae be too available. It will bring my prices down.”
He had to chuckle at that. “That's wise. Are you finished working for the day?”
Iseul surveyed the mess of drawing materials on the worktable, then sighed and sat down to begin packing them away. “I suppose I should stop for now, otherwise I will start trying out different poses and completely lose track of time.”
“Do you have a lesson?” he asked, kneeling down to help her. “I could take you to wherever you need to go.”
“That won't be necessary.” She glanced at the weak winter daylight filtering in through the rice paper windowpanes. “It's still bright outside. Besides, you're already at home. It wouldn't make sense to go out again.”
Yong-ha waved away her protests. “It will get dark soon. You should not go home alone, and it would be cruel to send for your servant to come and fetch you in this cold.
“Besides,” he added with a mischievous smile of his own, “I want to visit Halmeonim, but cannot turn up empty-handed. What better present can I give her than her precious granddaughter, home safe and sound?”
“It's not too cold, is it, Halmeonim?”
A laugh issued from the bundle of blankets huddled between Yong-ha and Iseul. “How could I possibly be cold when you've wrapped me in every blanket in the house?”
“We don't want you catching a chill again,” Yong-ha told her. Beside him, Kyo-eul whined and thumped his tail worshipfully, which earned him a fond pat on the head. “Your illness had us very worried.”
“I did sense that.” Madam Park sighed. “But now you're relaxed around each other again. I'm glad, and sorry to have worried you so.”
Blushing, Iseul exchanged rueful glances with Yong-ha. Apparently, they had not hidden their quarrel as well as they had thought. “Think nothing of it, Halmeonim,” she mumbled. “Everything turned out for the best.”
The blankets shifted as her grandmother nodded. “Yes, it did; and now that I am better, you can begin planning the wedding!”
She froze at that. “Ah... but....”
“We must consult an astrologer soon,” Madam Park continued enthusiastically. “Madam Im, the dyer, was recommending one before I got sick. Let me get the name from her again and we'll-“
“Oh, dear,” Yong-ha said suddenly. “I'm afraid this isn't a good time for me. I need to start thinking about the styles that my shop will offer in the spring.”
“Spring?!” the old woman repeated in disbelief. “But we're barely into winter!”
“I know, but I must think of these things a season in advance. It's how I stay ahead of my competition.”
This latest excuse to stall the wedding preparations helped Iseul regain her powers of speech. “Y-you said yourself, Halmeonim, that Yong-ha's shop is the best,” she pointed out. “Of course, he has to work very hard if his shop is to remain so.”
“Of course,” Madam Park agreed, sounding so disappointed that her granddaughter couldn't help feeling a little bit guilty.
“I wish we could proceed with planning the wedding and not need to worry about anything else, Halmeonim,” Yong-ha said gently to the old woman, “but I must make a living, especially now that I'll soon have a wife to support. We can see the astrologer when I'm no longer so busy.”
“I guess that's what we will have to do. I'll get the name from Madam Im, at least-that way, we'll be ready to make an appointment the next time you are free. You'll let me know, won't you?”
“Of course I will.”
Iseul's eyes met Yong-ha's over her grandmother's head and she shot him a grateful look. He smiled and gave her a little wink. It wasn't the first time he had winked at her, but for some reason, this time caused a her heart to flutter strangely.
She covered up her discomfiture by trying to distract her grandmother further. “You can probably ask Madam Im about it when she comes to visit, Halmeonim,” she suggested.
If they were lucky, it would be a long time before the dyer visited again and Madam Park would have forgotten all about the astrologer by then. If not, then Yong-ha would have to stay very busy for the foreseeable future.
“That was a close escape,” Yong-ha said a few days later. “Has Halmeonim said anything more about planning the wedding?”
“No.” Iseul glanced up, peered at him closely, then cast her eyes down again. “She's preoccupied with getting stronger; fortunately for us, she's fixated on that at the moment.”
“Yes, that is fortunate,” he agreed. “May I move now?”
“No.”
He pouted. “But my arms hurt.”
“I wish you wouldn't make that face, Yong-ha,” Madam Hong complained from where she sat beside Iseul. “It's not at all attractive.”
Iseul looked up from the sketch before her and studied him for a long moment. “It's all right, madam,” she assured the older woman. “He makes that face whenever he wants something.
“Clearly,” she added with a sweet smile in Yong-ha's direction, “he wishes me to paint him looking that way.”
“That is not it at all,” he complained, but assumed a more pleasant expression nonetheless.
The smile grew into a full-fledged grin. “Well, it wasn't my idea for you to be standing in your portrait,” Iseul pointed out, chuckling. “In fact, I suggested that you be seated, like the rest of your family.” Both Yong-ha's father and brother had opted to pose seated at their worktables, with their wives at their sides.
“I wanted to be different. I just had no idea of the price I would need to pay.”
She sketched in silence for a few moments before laying down her charcoal stick with a sigh. “All right, all right, you can rest for a while. I think I've got the pose mostly done, anyway.
“Of course,” she couldn't help but add, “if you don't like it, then you can pose all over again.”
“I'm sure it's perfect.”
“You're standing clear across the room,” his mother pointed out.
“I'm more than familiar with Teacher Kim's work by now, Omonim,” Yong-ha said, “so I am absolutely certain that the drawing is perfect.” He made his way over to them and gave the sketch a cursory look. “See, what did I tell you? Perfect.”
“You just don't want to pose anymore,” Madam Hong accused, but a smile played around her lips.
“What's going on here?” Master Gu stuck his head through the doorway and frowned at his wife and son. “Are you bothering Teacher Kim?”
“I'm posing, Abeonim,” Yong-ha told him quickly. “I mean, I was posing. I'm taking a break right now.” He grimaced and rotated his shoulders. “My arms were getting stiff.”
“And I'm supervising,” his mother added. “After all, I ordered the screen. I think I'm entitled to have some control over how it will look.”
Despite these explanations, Yong-ha's father still looked skeptical, so Iseul hastened to smooth things over. “It's all right, Master Gu; they weren't bothering me at all. As a teacher, I'm quite accustomed to having people watch me work.”
The older man harrumphed. “If you say so,” he said, and wandered over to have a look at the sketch. “Looks good. Are you going with that pose?”
“It's what your son wants,” Madam Hong sighed. “It also means his panel will have to go in the middle. It would look terribly awkward if everyone were seated except for Yong-ha, standing by himself at the end.”
“That's exactly what I was hoping you would say, Omonim,” Yong-ha said with a brilliant smile.
“You always have to be the center of attention,” Master Gu remarked, arching an eyebrow at his son, then turned back to Iseul. “Are you nearly done making drawings of us, then? Will you be able to start working on the actual screen?”
“Soon, sir,” she assured him. She had not missed his discreet glance at one corner of the room, which held a stack of silk panels. The fabric had already been treated and stretched over wooden frames, and was ready to be painted. “Yong-ha is the last one to pose for me, and I have discussed with the madam on how she would like the ship jangsaeng to be featured. I've been working on a possible design and, once the madam approves, I will begin painting the panels.”
Her progress report was met with an approving nod. “Excellent,” said Master Gu. “I look forward to seeing it take shape.”
Iseul's sketch must have been good, or else Madam Hong had also picked up on her husband's impatience for work on the screen to proceed, for the proposed design was accepted with minimal quibbling.
Yong-ha watched, barely breathing, as Iseul painted the outline of a stand of pine trees onto the first panel. For a moment, he felt like a little boy again, spellbound by the wonders taking shape beneath Madam Park's needle; but that feeling passed quickly, for the man was eventually distracted by the graceful lines of Iseul's arm as it held the paintbrush, the glint of the amber garakji that still dangled around her neck, and the scent of the perfume he had chosen for her.
(He had done well in selecting that particular fragrance, he thought. Perhaps too well....)
He started, nearly dropping the ledger he was supposed to be studying, when someone tapped his shoulder, and again when he turned to discover his father at his side. “Still posing, are you?” Master Gu asked, speaking in a low voice to avoid disrupting Iseul's work.
“Quality control,” he whispered back.
The older man quirked a quizzical eyebrow, but Iseul interrupted before he could reply. “Good afternoon, Master Gu,” she greeted him, straightening and carefully setting aside her brush. “How are you today?”
Yong-ha hid a smile as his father assumed a more polite expression to address her. “Very well, thank you, Teacher Kim. I just came in to make sure that this rascal wasn't disturbing you.”
“I'm working, too, Abeonim,” he said, holding up his ledger with a wounded air. Several others, some of which were actually open, were on the worktable in front of him along with writing materials and an abacus for making calculations.
His father harrumphed. “Still, I don't understand why you need to hang about here, of all places.”
“Well, first of all, it's quiet here,” Yong-ha explained. “Most suitable for concentrating on my accounts. Second, it's convenient when I need to consult Iseul about Chamber of Commerce matters-during her breaks, of course,” he hastened to clarify. “And finally, it would be a waste to work elsewhere and have another furnace lit, wouldn't it?”
Iseul chuckled softly at the glare that Master Gu sent his son. “It really is all right, Master Gu,” she said as she stretched out her arm, which felt a bit stiff from holding the brush for such a long time. “Yong-ha was so quiet that I barely knew he was there.
“He used to watch my grandmother work, back when she used to do embroidery for the madam,” she added. “I suppose you could say that my Halmeonim trained him well.”
Master Gu harrumphed at that, but allowed his attention to shift towards the work in progress before her. “That's very nice. But you are not doing the portraits first?”
Iseul smiled. Had he hoped to see what his would look like? “I am afraid not, sir. There is a lot of pressure in doing portraits, so I need to work my way up to that.”
“Ah, is that so? Well, no need to push yourself if it will affect your results. Have you had anything to eat? Yong-ha, have the servants bring this poor girl some food and something warm to drink!”
The younger man grinned and got to his feet. “Right away, Abeonim. I'll tell them to bring a lot-there is a Chamber meeting coming up, so there is much that Iseul and I need to discuss.”
“In that case, have them bring some for me as well.” Master Gu settled himself more comfortably next to Yong-ha's worktable. “If this is about business, then I should hear about it.”
Yong-ha was so quiet that I barely knew he was there.
That was not entirely true, Iseul thought to herself as she crossed the marketplace a few days after that conversation with Master Gu. Yong-ha indeed tried to stay as unobtrusive as possible, but she always seemed to sense when he was watching her. However, that wasn't something she could say to his father.
“Vegetable seller's closed,” rumbled Chin-hae, walking behind her with that day's shopping.
“I suppose Master Choo doesn't have much to sell these days,” she replied.
Although people still traded in the wintertime, the buzz of activity seemed greatly subdued. Vendors of fresh produce closed for the season, or sold limited stocks of grain or root crops. Other shops selling non-perishable items remained open, but storekeepers kept their doors and windows shut against the cold. Only a few people were out and about these days, preferring to do their errands quickly so that they could return home where it was warm.
A stiff breeze blew, ruffling Iseul's skirts and sending fingers of cold air around her ankles. “Omo! Teacher Kim!” a woman called. “What are you doing out in this weather?”
She managed to suppress a cringe before turning to greet the speaker with a cordial smile. “Hello, Madam Sung.”
The ahjumma bustled out of her shop, wrapping her fur-lined winter vest more securely around herself. “Are you still working these days?”
“Yes, madam. Most of my students are carrying on with their lessons, and Madam Hong has commissioned me to do some work for her.”
“Madam Hong? Gu Yong-ha's mother?” Madam Sung eyed her speculatively. “That means you'll be spending a lot of time at your betrothed's house. Is that at all proper?”
“Well, if we are to be married anyway, I might as well get accustomed to being in his house, should I not?”
Iseul tried her best to keep her tone light-even mustered a polite little laugh-but must have not done a good job in hiding her annoyance, for Madam Sung laid a hand on her arm in a placating gesture. “Oh, Teacher Kim,” the older woman said, “I hope you understand that I speak out of concern for your well-being. It's in your best interests to still observe the proprieties while you and Master Gu are not yet wed.”
“Please be assured, madam, that nothing improper is going on. I have my grandmother and my family's reputation to think of, after all.” She glanced over her shoulder at Chin-hae, still standing behind her with the shopping basket. “Speaking of which, we must be on our way. Our housekeeper is waiting for the things that we bought.”
“Please wait a moment!” Madam Sung rushed into her shop and came out again with a small parcel, which she pressed upon Iseul. “Please take this for your grandmother, a small gift from me. I'm so glad she's doing better.”
Iseul noted the desperation in the older woman's eyes, supposed that Madam Sung was afraid of burning bridges with the future daughter-in-law of one of Joseon's wealthiest families, and promptly softened her expression. Oh, if she only knew.... “Thank you, Madam Sung,” she said with a genuine smile. “I'm sure Halmeonim will enjoy this, and I will definitely remember you to her. Now, please excuse us, we must be on our way.” She bowed politely. “Good day.”
Yong-ha yawned and pushed away his abacus. “Ya, how are you coming along over there?” he called across the room. “Are you still alive?”
“Ye-e-es....” Iseul replied faintly, not bothering to look up from her work. Three of the four panels that would not contain depictions of the family were already covered with delicate tracings of black. Once all the figures on the panels had been outlined, she said, she would finally add color to highlight and add dimension.
“You've been working practically nonstop since this morning, and it's full dark now. Should you not call it a day already?”
As the work on his mother's screen began in earnest, he discovered that she tended to become quite obsessive when painting; prior to this, he had only ever seen her do quick sketches in charcoal or small embellishments on the garments he sold-nothing that demanded this level of commitment.
“Halmeonim might be wondering where you are,” Yong-ha remembered to add.
He had not thought to mention Madam Park when he first had to pry Iseul away from her work at the end of the day, so initially it was difficult to convince her to go home and rest. Fortunately, he had learned quickly, telling himself that a little emotional blackmail was acceptable if it was for Iseul's own good.
“You're right,” she sighed. “Let me just finish this fish and I will stop for the day.”
“Good girl.” He had her word, but just for good measure, he watched her draw the outline of the fish and set aside her paintbrush as promised when it was finished. “Are you all right?” he asked as she bent and extended her arm and fingers, wincing as she did so.
“I'm fine.” Iseul gave him a pained smile. “Just the usual stiffness from painting all day.”
Yong-ha tsked and rose to cross to her side of the room. “You really should rest your hand more often,” he chided. “And keep it warm whenever you can, especially now that it's winter. You might do lasting damage to your hand if you keep up this pace. How will you work if you do not take care of yourself?”
“I know,” she said. “But you cannot imagine how it feels when you are doing well on project. It feels-“ She stopped short when she realized that he had been massaging her hand with both of his for the past several moments. “It feels... as though you have to keep going.”
Their eyes met, Yong-ha looking as though he had also just realized what he was doing, and the thumb rubbing the back of her hand dragged to a stop. Iseul thought he would release her, but instead he leaned over and covered her lips with his own.
Omona.
She had thought herself quite worldly after the first kiss she had requested from him, but that one was a pale imitation of what she was experiencing now. That first one, though pleasant, had been tentative, even clinical. In comparison, this kiss was from a man who knew what he was about-a man who knew just how to angle his head, how hard to nibble on her lower lip, how to tease her lips apart so that he could explore.
So that's how it's done.
Iseul's eyes flew open when he pulled away and jumped to his feet. It took her a moment to register that someone was calling their names, and she quickly turned away to hide her face. “O-omo, my brushes,” she said in a voice that she barely recognized as her own. “I should clean them or the ink might freeze.”
Yong-ha cleared this throat. “There-there might still be some water on the brazier.” He stood like a lump for an awkward moment or two before spinning on his heel and starting for the door, mumbling something about going to the kitchen for more.
He bumped into his brother just outside the door. “Ah, hyung!” he greeted him with as casual a tone as he could muster. “Were you looking for me?”
An-jeong nodded. “Abeonim asked me to check if Teacher Kim is still here.”
“Yes! Yes, she is.” He gestured towards the door to the workroom. “She's inside, packing up her things.”
“That's good. She has been here the whole day and must be tired. Does she need a servant to see her home?”
Briefly, Yong-ha thought that it might be a good idea to have someone else escort his “betrothed” this time, but decided against it. “I will take care of that,” he said. Perhaps he could take it as an opportunity to explain his actions... once he came up with such an explanation.
He then realized that An-jeong was looking at him oddly. “What?” he asked. “What's wrong?”
“Just that your clothes are a little rumpled.” The other man reached out to straighten the front of Yong-ha's overcoat, which no longer lay flat under his belt. “I can't believe you, of all people, are letting yourself walk around like that.”
“Ah.” He reddened, trying not to think about how that might have happened. “Well, thanks.”
An-jeong waited for his brother to leave, and listened briefly at the workroom door to make sure that Iseul was all right, before finally allowing himself to grin. Anyone could tell from the poleaxed look on Yong-ha's face-and his failure to notice that his clothes were in disarray-that something had happened in that room just moments ago.
The pair had been playing at being betrothed for quite a while now, and did not seem to be in any hurry to end things. As time passed, An-jeong grew increasingly worried about how the situation might be resolved with minimal damage to all involved. It had not occurred to him until now that an honest-to-goodness wedding was an option.
He was still grinning when he returned to the room he shared with his wife. Hearing the door open, Geun-hye looked up from her sewing and gave him a slightly puzzled look. “What is so amusing?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing much.” An-jeong sat down beside her and smiled at the tiny garments she was making. They were a present for his parents, to convey the happy news that Geun-hye had finally conceived. “It's just funny how things work out, that's all.”
Say something.
Given recent events, it was no surprise that the ride to Iseul's home was steeped in stilted silence. Yong-ha had hoped they use the time to could talk things over and move past the incident, but he had no idea what to say.
At first, he thought that the kiss had simply been a mad impulse; then he supposed that it could have been the result of spending weeks in such close quarters. Or perhaps he had been drunk-could one get drunk from the smell of ink and too much bookkeeping? (This would have been much easier if alcohol had been involved!) And what were they to do now? It was a good thing that no one had seen them, or else they would be in an even bigger bind.
Yong-ha tried his best to sift through his jumbled thoughts, but all he could think about was how right it had felt to kiss Kim Iseul.
Say something.
For her part, Iseul spent most of the trip home willing herself to calm down. It was just a kiss-a very nice one, but just a kiss nevertheless. People kissed all the time, even though the elders (like Madam Sung, she supposed) still believed that it was appropriate only for married couples.
That still left the question of why Yong-ha had kissed her this time; she supposed she would deal with the explanation when he actually offered one. In the meantime, the best way forward was to act as though nothing extraordinary had taken place, but she was at a loss as to how to make that happen.
Iseul broke the silence when they stopped in the Kims' front yard. “Thank you,” she murmured as he helped her dismount.
With a bow, she made to leave, but Yong-ha took her arm before she could go. “Iseul, wait.”
She chanced a look at his face, but her eyes quickly skittered away again at the intent look she saw there. “What-what is it?”
“I just-“
“She's here,” Chin-hae's voice rumbled before Yong-ha could say anything more, and Iseul turned to see the burly manservant emerge from the house with another person in tow.
Recognizing the second person, she exclaimed, “Master Jo! What brings you here?”
The Ma servant's face was ashen and grave in the winter moonlight. “Agasshi, I am sorry to be the bringer of bad news, but your grandfather has died.”