POV: Hae Na Ri
"People who grow up in orphanages are close with other children there," Hajoon says. "I have heard they live like siblings. But you said you have no one?"
His inquiry is framed so delicately and with what seems genuine sympathy.
I smile ruefully. "I guess that was an ungrateful statement. I do have people who will worry for me. It's just that when you don't have parents, you have no one." At least as a child, people are nicer if you have parents who are alive.
He sits down again. "Did they die in an accident in your world too?"
I nod. "When I was 9. I have very blurred memories." I pause. "I had a brother too, but that jerk ran away from home a long time ago, so he doesn't count as someone who cares for me."
"He ran away?" His eyebrows lower and he frowns. "Is that why you were worried…?"
"No," I say firmly. "It's been years. That jerk abandoned me, so I don't really care about him." If he wanted to come back, he would have already. "I don't want to talk about him."
Maybe I sound a little too bitter. But his eyes remain soft.
I get up to leave and a wave of pain rattles through my left arm. I breathe in deeply, dip my head in a short bow and get out of there.
Outside the door, I lean against the wall, clutching my arm. Just for some moments. To steady myself.
Then I slowly walk to my room with a slight ache still throbbing in my heart.
No matter how much you distract yourself, some things will still drag you back with their sharp claws.
★☆★☆★☆★
POV: Shin Se Kyung
Shin Sekyung places her coffee mug under the spout of the coffee. The machine's Italian make is polished to a mirror shine. Steam curls in the air as coffee drips into the mug, slow and calm–unlike Sekyung's insides.
"You are sure?" She asks.
Secretary Lee Insu stands across the room. He peers at her through a pair of thin rimmed glasses. He is an intelligent, calm looking man with a steady gaze, in his late 30s.
"Yes, I am positively sure she is living inside the palace," he answers, emotionlessly. "According to my man, she's been seen going in and out of the palace freely with royal guards, without any luggage. It can be deduced she is staying there."
She stirs her coffee, the steel spoon chiming against the ceramic cup. "And who exactly is she?"
There are a few moment's silence.
"Ma'am, I couldn't find anything on her."
At this, she turns. Secretary Lee's poker face doesn't change.
"What do you mean?"
"It's as if someone has deliberately wiped all information about her."
She knows what that means; Ryu Hajoon is surely dating her.
He has always dated public figures before, their lives being out in the open for everyone to see. This woman is a non-celebrity. So Hajoon could wipe her information easily.
When she had asked him about her indirectly, he had avoided and changed the subject. Sekyung isn't stupid. She saw how he had been laughing with her. So carefree.
He's never like that with Sekyung.
"I would have to get a RIS agent to look into it. But it can alert His Majesty," Secretary Lee warns.
She takes a sip of the warm coffee. It's more bitter than usual. "Leave it."
Shin Sekyung knows how to draw out an enemy.
Ryu Hajoon really wants to play this game. Acting hard to get. As if a no-name woman could compete with her. Keeping her in the Gold Palace when he's always so reluctant to meet there.
Don't tell me he is serious about her?
Actually, it's easier. With a commoner, it's easier. She's gorgeous, yes. Tall, striking eyes and straight long hair. But that doesn't make a queen. Sekyung will deal with her in a way that will show Hajoon.
And then he can't keep pushing her away.
"Get me Mrs. Kang's cell number," she says at last, putting down the coffee mug, still full.
☆★☆★☆★
POV: Unknown
In the dim back room of the Sweet Delights Bakery, the sweet scent of cookies and broken dreams waft in the air.
The room has some hard seated plastic chairs, a couch, an oven and a fridge. Five men and two women are sitting and standing in various spots with crossed arms and menacing expressions on their faces. Only a tiny bulb hanging in the center is on. Hwang Minjae insisted on it and turned off all other lights.
"It's how they do it in movies," he had said.
Baek Doyoon stands against the fridge. He is in his late 40s. His hair are spiky, cut at odd angles to intimidate. His arms crossed over his chest are filled with tattoos of dragons and snakes. Well, tattoo stickers. His wife doesn't like tattoos so he peels them off before going home.
"You punks, we have another serious order that's not a birthday cake," his voice booms proudly.
"It's cookies!" Choi Junho exclaims. The oven light is on, a dull hum coming from it.
"No!" Doyoon snaps. Then lowers his voice. "We need to take care of someone."
There are gasps around the room. Everyone shifts in their seats with excitement and lean forward, eager to learn more. Except for Park Hyunsoo. He is leaning back on his couch, eyes closed as if in meditation, and his apron discarded on a side.
Seo Inwoo, the youngest of them, born in 2003, raises his hand tentatively.
"How many times have I told you not to do that?" Doyoon scolds him. "We are not in a class."
Inwoo lowers his hand sheepishly, fixes his wide glasses. "Umm..can you please define the term 'take care'? The last time it caused some…confusions."
"Yeah, the elderly couple we had to take care of," it's Choi Junho again, the 33 year-old physical force of their group with his 6'2 height and bulky arms. He is wearing a plastic cap and white apron. "Minjae took Grandpa to a chiropractor and Yoona took Grandma to a salon."
"His back was bad," Minjae says defensively
Yoona eyes her manicured nails. "Grandma liked the manicure."
Doyoon holds up his hand to silence them.
"It's this 'take care'." He drags a finger across his neck menacingly. Then looks at each of them with extreme focus. "This time, we can't mess it up. This is Sweet Delights' another chance to make our name in this industry."
Junho cracks his knuckles. "Who, when, where?"
"A 29 year old woman. Ordinary, untrained and a little stupid. The client wants it to be painless and quick."