“I am sorry, I had to come.” He tells her “I was informed that you were not well.”
He is beating around the bush, trying to find the words to articulate the questions he wants to ask her. No matter how certain he is of the woman’s (real) identity, he would rather be a hundred percent sure. Meanwhile the god in him probably facepalms every time he doubts himself or his ability to read everyone’s soul like an open book.
“This may sound strange, princess, but indulge my question, please. I have had a dream and seen flowers in your path and velvet-like petals painting it as you walked.” He remembers when she told him about her favorites. Red roses. He remembers telling her his favorites as well and If she is who he thinks she is, she’ll know what he’s hinting at. “Can you imagine what kind of flower adorned that path I have seen?”
The man who steps around the door causes time to stop. He only allows eye contact for a moment, but even that is more than enough time to see the room shiver in the wake of these two.
He is adorned in garments much lower than her own. If Jieun has realised anything in this world, it is that status is more than just a title. It is what allows this world to grow and pulsate. Those who don’t understand the hierarchy are refused basic needs and wither away. Sometimes, even the most exquisite blooms will not surface if it does not suffice the flowers above. And, oh, is he exquisite. He may not wear a crown, but he holds himself as if the world is so. There is a delicate equilibrium in the room, so wiry that casting his head down causes fractures to form. Jieun’s lips part to speak but sound cannot be made - She fears too much that the world would then shatter from under them.
He breaks the silence first. Jieun smiles at him but doesn’t bow. A princess would only stoop to the patriarchs of Goryeo, the king and princes. But, still, the man in front of her brought with him the regality worth many millenniums of power. “No, please, don’t be sorry. I’m rather grateful you cared enough to come see me.” Jieun sought his eye contact once more, “I seem to have been thrown into some rather unwanted situations which I suppose have begun taking their toll.”
Jieun’s heart was overjoyed to be near a kindred spirit for reasons she can’t comprehend. The eunuchs question puzzles her though and it shows on her creased brow. She steps around to study the man before closing her eyes and musing about the room. Jieun can see the image. A slow directed glide which springs forth life but is surrounded by something much more obsolete. “I think I can,” She buzzed, accidentally happy in tone. “It’s beautiful but an incredibly difficult balance of Orchid and Rose.” Jieun turns back to face the other, “They’re incredibly predominant florets, but, if understood, they generate the most intricate display.”
The small voice in her is trying so hard to place this spirit but she’s throwing out any suggested answers as quickly as possible. It’s not safe to make presumption here and Jieun needs to stay alive if she’s ever going to find out how to get back to Seoul. Still, she yearns to know more amongst her censorship. “Why do you ask?”
