UN 08

Chapter 08

Her eyes gradually narrowed, until only a single line remained.
The corners of her mouth curved like turned-up fingernails, and her cheeks puffed out slightly.
Gyohum could not take his eyes off her shy smile. At that moment, his eyes flickered with a hint of suspicion.

“It was your first night in this house. Did you have a good dream?”
Lady Jami broke the silence. Soran nodded shyly.

“I slept soundly, without dreaming.”
“Well done. You must have been exhausted.”
“Yes.”
“In the future, you will be in charge of the detached quarters. If there’s anything you don’t know, come to me and ask anytime.”
“Yes.”
“Welcome to our household.”
“…Yes.”

Once again, Soran smiled like a shy lily of the valley. She lowered her head quietly and smiled gently, almost sorrowfully.
Why? Gyohum furrowed his brow, trying to guess the reason, but he could not find an answer.
Meanwhile, through her shoulders, the white morning light brightened the room.

“Phew.”
Soran finally breathed a sigh of relief after confirming that the room was empty.
At the tip of that relief flickered a quiet sense of pride.

“I was nervous, but I think I did better than I expected.”

Lady Mojinpyung and Lady Jami were kind to Soran. Thanks to that, she avoided the situation where her mind would have gone blank.

“They’re both such good people.”
Lady Mojinpyung smelled faintly of old earth and dust, while Lady Jami carried the gentle scent of grass.
Both smells were calming.

“Perhaps…”
A faint hope took root in Soran’s chest. Perhaps this is my land? A place where I can plant deep roots.

At that moment, a presence was felt outside the door.
Before she could turn her head, the door opened with the words, “It’s Kkeutsuni.”

A young girl, seemingly three or four years younger than Soran, stood at the door. Her chubby face and gentle expression seemed quite mild.

“I will be taking care of you from now on.”
“Uh…”
Soran’s eyes widened, and she could not speak easily. The idea that someone would serve her was hard to believe.

Just a few days ago, Soran had prepared Lady Munhyeon’s meals, warmed Sehwa’s wash water, and stitched the blankets they would use.
And now, a maid was to serve her. For timid Soran, this sudden change in her circumstances was not just uncomfortable—it was frightening.

Her life had always been filled with misfortune. She had been abandoned by her parents, scorned by Lady Munhyeon, and belittled by the servants.
She often wondered why her life was so harsh. Sometimes, she even hoped that a good day might come for her.

Still, she had never wished for such a great fortune. She had thought that just having enough nurungji (scorched rice) to eat three meals a day would be enough.

“I…”
Soran opened her mouth but closed it again.

Is this allowed?
How great would the misfortune be that comes after such undeserved luck?

A life where she doesn’t have to get up early to stoke the fire, where she is served warm white rice at every meal, and where no one points a finger at her—what would it eventually take away from her?

Suddenly, it felt as if the ground beneath her feet shifted. Soran glanced down unconsciously.
The ground she thought she had rooted in was still there, as if pushing her away.

—Bringing back just one like you is no trouble at all.

Lady Munhyeon’s voice sounded vividly beside her.

Soran tensed her legs like a cow resisting being dragged to the slaughterhouse.

“….”

When no response came from Soran after a while, Kkeutsuni, tilting her head curiously, spoke first.

“Breakfast is ready.”

Soran nodded at her words.
Yes, let’s eat. Once I eat, this unease will soon vanish.

Hunger always makes the mind wander. Even trivial things can feel heavy.
Perhaps all these thoughts are simply because I’m hungry.

“Yes.”

Soran left the room with Kkeutsuni, her eyes sparkling with faint anticipation.
Would the chicken from last night be served again for breakfast? She hadn’t finished it, and she hoped it was still there, even if not reheated.
Ah, and the beef soup had been delicious too. Even if it had cooled, it had been fine—how wonderful would it be warm? Meat also keeps the stomach fuller longer than vegetables.

Though she was already fairly full, she was ready to reach for more meat anytime.

When Soran entered the dining hall, she paused at the sight of Gyohum, who had arrived first. She realized she wouldn’t be eating alone.

“Why are you standing there? Is the food not to your liking?”
“No… it’s not.”

Soran looked at the table again, hesitating. The meat she had been hoping for was replaced only by a bowl of pumpkin porridge and three small vegetable side dishes.

“….”

Suppressing her disappointment, Soran sat down as calmly as she could. Kkeutsuni poured a cup of warm water and left the room.

“Last night you ate late, didn’t you? I was told to prepare a light breakfast, in case it caused any discomfort.”

It was unnecessary consideration. When she had been in the Middle Secretariat household, there were many days when she ate porridge instead of rice.
And it wasn’t even proper porridge—it was thin, almost gruel-like, with barely any chunks. She was now so fed up with porridge she could almost get sick of it.

But timid Soran could not voice that.

“Yes…”

Moreover, Gyohum smelled faintly of a full stomach. His words had not been false.
She did not want to show complaint to the one who had been considerate of her.

Indeed. She had experienced true hunger before—how could she complain about pumpkin porridge now? She was already full.

“Thank you.”
“Let’s eat.”
“Yes.”

Gyohum lifted his spoon first. Soran, after a moment’s hesitation, did the same. She scooped a spoonful of pumpkin porridge and brought it to her mouth.

“!”

Her eyes widened in an instant. This was no ordinary pumpkin porridge.
The pumpkin was sweet without any seasoning, and the finely ground glutinous rice was nutty and filling.

Gyohum had been right—it was not at all heavy or burdensome.
With porridge this good, she could eat two, even three bowls without stopping.

“Today we need to inspect the government offices. I had planned to rest until tomorrow, but I received a message last night about a murder in the district I am in charge of.”
“….”
Slurp.
“So I will have to go. We should be able to eat together for dinner.”
Slurp.
“I will inform the servants, so let me know if you need anything.”
Slurp.
“Your mother may not call for you personally, but she might invite you to tea. She said she has a few instructions for you before you take charge of the detached quarters.”
Slurp.
“Are you listening, Madam?”

Gyohum paused mid-sentence, asking suspiciously. Soran blinked slowly, lifting her gaze from the porridge.

“…Yes.”

She subtly avoided his eyes. He narrowed his gaze slightly.

Soran looked anxiously between Gyohum and the porridge. After a short sigh, Gyohum said,

“Let’s finish eating first.”
“Yes.”

At last, Soran smiled faintly, clutching her spoon. What delicious porridge!
Apparently, what she had eaten until now had not been real porridge. Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

Gyohum quietly muttered, “So the Middle Secretariat really did starve his daughter.”
Outside the window, the golden sun appeared, as if reflecting the color of the pumpkin porridge.

Rustle.
Soran, seated in her chair, shifted uncomfortably.
Rustle.
Unable to bear it, she moved to the empty seat beside her.
Rustle.
This time, she straightened her back and shoulders, wiggling her fingers.

“Haa.”

Finally, a sigh escaped. Doing nothing made her restless. Her body, used to constant busy movement, was unaccustomed to sudden leisure.

Can I really stay still like this? Should I go fetch some water? she whispered to herself.

“People are really fickle.”

When doing chores all day, she had thought she could be satisfied with even a brief rest. But now, sitting still, she wanted to work so badly it was maddening.

“I can’t do this. I should at least take a walk around the detached quarters.”

Soran opened the door ambitiously, but stopped. Her eyes met Kkeutsuni, who was cleaning a wooden pillar with a dry cloth.

Soran’s expression softened.

“No wonder the pillar’s shine is remarkable—it must be thanks to you. Good work.”

Kkeutsuni widened her eyes slightly, as if surprised to hear such words.

High-ranking nobles assumed that pillars naturally shone, floors were naturally smooth, and yards were naturally clean. Few understood the effort of servants.

“It’s my duty.”
Soran gave a bitter smile, feeling slightly out of place, as if wearing clothes that didn’t fit.

Still, she needed to get used to her current “garments”—the long skirts cumbersome for walking, the wide sleeves inconvenient for cleaning.

“Where are you going?”