Lady of Dreams Read online

  I giggled. It was a completely unpremeditated reaction, and in the wake of it, I saw a deeper colour rise in Yong-hwa’s cheeks. Was he blushing? It was so hard to tell with Eppans.

  “Ah,” he said, his eyes failing to meet mine for the barest second. He was blushing. “Never mind, Clovis-a. It was a flyaway thought.”

  “Oppa, did you really mean me? Who would I send out to play tricks on you?”

  Yong-hwa shook his head. “It was just a stray thought. But Clovis-a, on those days when you can’t look after yourself, who helps? Does a maid travel with you and carry you where you need to go?”

  “I have a servant who helps,” I said, more amused than I should have been, given how close Yong-hwa had come to describing exactly what Carlin and I had been up to. If it hadn’t been for that spontaneous giggle at his conclusion’s being based on the incident with Hwan-chul, I might have given myself away. It was just too funny that Yong-hwa had focused on that instead of the things I really had done. “I’ve been looked after since I was a child. We go everywhere together.”

  “Are you at your father’s estate when you’re not with Eun-hee? No, I’m sure I would have met you before now if that were the case. Did you live in Scandia all these years, then?”

  “Why do you want to know about that, Oppa?” I asked. “My childhood wasn’t an interesting one.”

  “I’m curious about you, Clovis-a. When a person is curious about another person, don’t they usually begin with questions about the other person’s childhood?”

  I looked at him doubtfully. “I don’t know. I’ve never been curious enough about another person.”

  A warmth of laughter sprang up in Yong-hwa’s eyes. “There’s nothing you want to know about me, then, Clovis-a?”

  “I’m not a very nice person, Oppa,” I said. “That’s why it was so funny, you thinking that I’d done something for you out of pity. I don’t care enough about people for that. I don’t remember to do things like being polite about asking questions and making the other person feel important.”

  “You shouldn’t say that sort of thing to men,” said Yong-hwa. His eyes were the brightest I’d seen them in several weeks, his cheeks sharp beneath their dancing. “You’ll either damage their fragile egos, or worse—”

  “Or?”

  “Or you run the risk of someone taking it as a challenge,” said Yong-hwa. “What do you think, Clovis-a? Should I make you care enough about me to ask questions? I like to feel important. Should I make you fall in love with me?”

  “I don’t think that would be very comfortable,” I said. “I like to be comfortable.”

  “It’s not very comfortable,” agreed Yong-hwa. “And if you were in love with me I think I’d have to insist on being asked a question or two.”

  I looked up into Yong-hwa’s face and found that I could see it entirely free of clinging Dreams. When had that happened? Se-ri and Hyun-jun and Ae-jung were gone, and even Jessamy wasn’t so much as a whisper of Dream in the corners of my eyes. I said, “Oppa, you’re in a strange mood this afternoon.”

  “I think I must be,” said Yong-hwa, with a small huff of laughter. “All right, Clovis-a, I won’t insist on your being in love with me. But since I know that you like to be comfortable, don’t say that sort of thing to other men.”

  “That’s all right,” I said. “I don’t really meet other men apart from Dong-wook oppa anyway.”

  Yong-hwa’s eyes rested on my face in mild surprise. “You’re close with Dong-wook-ssi?”

  “Yes,” I said, “and no. Dong-wook oppa finds me uncomfortable to be around, but he looks after me anyway. If I cared about anyone enough, I would probably care about him.”

  “Dong-wook-ssi,” murmured Yong-hwa meditatively, more to himself than to me. I wondered what it was I’d given him to think about. His eyes wandered over my face once again before he said slowly, “Clovis-a, if you haven’t been playing games with me, you should have your maid keep a better watch on your apartments. I saw a male servant sneaking out of your door earlier today.”

  “Dae?” I said in surprise. So Yong-hwa had seen Carlin! How had he—? Ah. In the mirror, of course. Clever, clever Yong-hwa! He hadn’t stopped to rearrange his already perfect tie, he’d stopped to see who was coming out of my room without being noticed at it.

  I looked up and found Yong-hwa’s eyes on me. “Perhaps I’ll have a word with Eun-hee-ssi,” he said, and it occurred to me that Yong-hwa had taken my surprise in entirely the wrong way. That was lucky for me.

  “I’ll give instructions to keep the door locked when no one’s there,” I said quickly. “Don’t bother Eun-hee unni. She’s just had to fire a maid, and she hates having to do that.”

  It was true; Eun-hee was ridiculously softhearted. Besides, if it came right down to it, I wasn’t sure whether she would talk about Carlin, and I’d rather not take the risk. She seemed to have taken a liking to Yong-hwa, and she didn’t at all care for Carlin.

  “Very well,” said Yong-hwa, but there was something of an edge of dissatisfaction to his voice. “Then we’ll talk about your childhood again, Clovis-a.”

  Yong-hwa left me in the garden as the afternoon began to approach to dinnertime. He would have carried me in, but I, wary of his heavy touch, insisted as firmly as I could through a Dream of Jessamy and Hwan-chul that Eun-hee would be along any moment. He hesitated, but we could hear the approach of Eun-hee’s walking party through the hedges, and I found myself grateful that Ma Yong-hwa was among those men who still considered it necessary to change for dinner.

  He had been gone for only a moment or two when Eun-hee plumped herself down beside me on the bench, her eyes sparkling.

  “Well, Clovis-a!”

  I looked at her in mild amusement. “Well, Unni?”

  “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Ma Yong-hwa lately, Clovis-a,” she said innocently, her eyes on Yong-hwa’s retreating back.

  “Dae,” I agreed. “Thanks to you, Unni.”

  Eun-hee grinned at me.

  Feeling as though I had a score to settle, I added, “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Dong-wook oppa lately, Unni.”

  Was that a faint blush on her cheeks? Eun-hee cleared her throat and said, “Well. That was necessary.”

  “Have you told Dong-wook oppa that?”

  Another hesitation. Eun-hee said defensively, “There’s no need to be telling the child any such thing, thank you, Clovis-ssi! After all, I’ve only—”

  “Stroked his hair and let him rest his head in your lap, and play with your fingers,” I said, nodding. Dong-wook had been wandering the manor in a happy dream-haze the last few days. “Well, Unni, at least you can be comforted; Dong-wook oppa obviously still loves you as much when you encourage him as when you hit him. How nice for you!”

  “Clovis-ssi!” said Eun-hee, with a kindling look in her eyes, “You—Dong-wook—”

  “What did I do, Nuna?” asked Dong-wook, emerging from the garden path to our right.

  “Never you mind!” Eun-hee said hastily. “Dong-wook-a, we’ll go in. Clovis-a is in a teasing mood because Yong-hwa-ssi has left her alone.”

  “Ya!” I said in surprise, but Eun-hee, sticking her tongue out at me haughtily, took the willing Dong-wook’s arm and left me where I was. I called after her, “How will I get back in, then?”

  “You can’t tell me that Carlin isn’t hiding in the bushes somewhere,” Eun-hee threw back at me.

  That made me laugh a little, even if I had left Carlin in my suite today. After spending some time with Yong-hwa, I was capable of making the short walk from the bench to the Contraption chair, so Eun-hee’s tricks didn’t affect me; but she would have been very remorseful to know she’d left me without means of returning to the manor comfortably.

  As it turned out, Eun-hee was closer to the mark than I. Just as I was about to try my legs, Carlin’s voice said behind me, “There are leaves in your hair, miss.”

  “Carlin! What are you doing here?”
/>   “I’m taking you in, of course,” said Carlin, plucking the offending leaves away.

  “If Yong-hwa oppa sees you—”

  “Well, we can’t stay out here all night,” said Carlin. “Miss.”

  “We? Were you watching us?”

  Carlin scooped me up. “Of course I was watching you. I thought he’d never leave; what did he have so much to talk about?”

  “Why?” I enquired, with a sniff of laughter. “Weren’t you listening?”

  “Couldn’t get close enough. And speaking of being close enough, why does he have to sit so close to you? There’s enough room on that bench for three people.”

  “You’re very quarrelsome today, Carlin,” I said absently. A newly formed Dream of Yong-hwa was hovering at the edges of my mind. He was sitting in one of his window seats, stockinged feet up on the cushion and elbow propped on the sill, and one finger tapped thoughtfully against his lips. Those lips were smiling beneath the tapping finger, but his eyes were distant, so I didn’t make the effort to look out his window. Yong-hwa had long since ceased to see anything out of that window; he was occupied with something only he could see.

  As I watched, he said, in quiet delight, “Aniya. I couldn’t have been wrong. And yet, I must have been.” He laughed once, the warmth of it glowing in his eyes, and said again, “Aniya. I was wrong and I was right.”

  Then he laughed until the tears stood brightly in his eyes, his arms clasped around his knees, unaffectedly boyish.

  “Carlin,” I said, leaning my suddenly weary head against his shoulder, “I don’t think we’ll need to play any more games.”

  I was so used to Yong-hwa’s visiting me at much the same time every day that it was something of a surprise when he didn’t come to see me the next day before noon. I was Dreaming of Ae-jung and Hyun-jun again, and it wasn’t until I discovered I was dragging myself out of it every half hour or so that it occurred to me that I was waiting for something.

  When the thought did occur to me, I pulled away from the Dream long enough to ask, “Carlin, Yong-hwa oppa hasn’t come to see me while I was Dreaming, has he?”

  “I thought you said we didn’t have to play any more games?” said Carlin, frowning.

  “We don’t,” I said. “Never mind.”

  I drifted aimlessly through Dreams, passing from Ae-jung and Hyun-jun to Jessamy, who seemed to be walking out to meet Hwan-chul, and thence to a Dream of Yong-hwa, who was playing his violin with quick fingers and very bright, distant eyes. I couldn’t decide if he was simply caught in a composition of his own making or was planning something; the two expressions were remarkably similar.

  At all events, I wasn’t surprised when Eun-hee came to fetch me for a concert that night. It was a lovely night for it—bright and cool, with the stars glittering like jewels in the sky—and the servants pushed back the folding doors to the courtyard outside. I wondered who had asked them to do so, Eun-hee or Yong-hwa. It was certainly the right setting for Yong-hwa: he had dressed himself all in black and could have vanished into the darkness if it weren’t for the stars glinting at his earlobes and the light of—what was it? Challenge, or enjoyment?—in his eyes. I expected him to play the violin, but seated early in my chaise as I always was, I was able to observe the gayageum as it was carefully carried in and settled on its mounts.

  “Nuna!” said a joyful voice beside me.

  “Don’t shout in my ear, Jessamy.”

  He made a face at me. “We’re going to have a treat tonight, though! Yong-hwa hyung is going to play for us!”

  “Mmm. So I see.”

  “Oh, Nuna, just wait until you hear!” Jessamy dropped onto my chaise longue, wrinkling my dress and crowding my legs. “You’ve never heard our Yong-hwa play before, have you?”

  I started to say, “Of course I have!” when I remembered that I had only ever heard Yong-hwa play in my Dreams, and hastily changed it to “Of course I haven’t! When would I have had the chance?”

  “How convenient,” said an amused voice beside us. I turned my head and found that Yong-hwa was looking down at us. “What could be better than a captive audience? And since you’re the only one who hasn’t heard me play before, I’ll be certain to ask how you find the music. Make sure to pay attention to your experiences, Clovis-a.”

  From the first thrumming notes I knew there was going to be trouble. How could it be otherwise when Yong-hwa’s fingers were obscured by magic, the coils and curls of it sent vibrating into the air on the notes of the gayageum? Beneath the swirling, bright notes of the top melody was the constant, heavy beat of the lower register, tugging, tugging. I saw the movement of the magic as it danced in Eun-hee’s curls and grazed along Jessamy’s cheek, and then a vast heaviness took over me as the magic wrapped around me in warm bands of honey-scented weight.

  The hand that had been on Jessamy’s shoulder, fingers curled into his collar, dropped to the couch beside me, a leaden weight. The other fell from the back of the couch. It hit my leg with barely a sound but I felt it as though it had bruised me to the bone. I gasped, the sound hidden beneath the whirling and beating of the gayageum, and across the room Yong-hwa’s eyes met mine. I saw the slight flash of teeth, bared not in amusement but in effort, and the glowing gaze left me. Jessamy, caught up in the great, thrumming whole of it all, didn’t notice that anything was wrong until I inevitably collapsed into the side of the couch, my head hitting first the padded rest and then the seat.

  I heard Jessamy’s concerned voice calling to me, and a pinching at one of my shoulders, but all I could comprehend was the massive weight crushing me into myself, and the pain of my legs. And between the seat backs of the other listeners, as my eyes closed to slits, I saw Yong-hwa, his hands drawn up in the graceful last moment of the song. If his eyes had glowed before, now his whole face shone. He was breathing too quickly—was that from the effort of the performance, or the magic involved?—his teeth still just showing. And just before I closed my eyes I’m certain that his eyes again met mine, and that he smiled.

  I didn’t Dream that night. I didn’t Dream, or sleep—or do anything, in fact, but feel the weight of the world pressing against me, my legs aching and twitching. Jessamy was curled up beside me on the quilted bedcover, his face mobile even in his sleep, and muttering occasionally. When the morning dawned, cold and clear, my eyes were filmy and tight, and I had begun to be able to move again. I prodded Jessamy’s nose until he woke, baring his teeth at me.

  “Ya. Help me up.”

  “Aigoo,” he said, grimacing. “You look awful, Nuna.”

  “Thanks. Are you going to help me up?”

  “Don’t be such a prickly little cactus,” he said, lifting me by the elbows. He helped me wriggle to the edge of the bed and leaned back to observe my face in the sunlight. “I didn’t think you could get any whiter. Ya. That’s ugly.”

  I reached out clumsily to flick his forehead, and Jessamy grinned. I said, “Did you like the music last night?”

  “Mwoh?”

  “The music. What did it feel like to you?”

  “Like a balloon.”

  It was my turn to say, “Mwoh?”

  “Stand up, Nuna, I’ve got you. Well, it was all bright and bobbing on the top, like a red balloon sailing along on the breeze, but the thump thump underneath was fingers around the string, reminding the balloon that it can’t sail away.”

  “Why shouldn’t the balloon sail away?” I said, irrationally annoyed. “It’s a balloon. It’s meant to fly away.”

  Jessamy shook his head. “You don’t know about balloons. If it flies away it’ll only get popped. Balloons are meant to stay on strings and be enjoyed and looked after, and maybe fly a little bit. Why are you so cranky, Nuna? You’re never cranky.”

  “I’m not cranky,” I said. “Put me in the window seat, Jessamy-a. I think I can sleep now.”

  “Ya, what have you been doing all this time, then?” he protested, but he shuffled me over to the window anyway. “I’ll get us some br
eakfast, Nuna.”

  I fell asleep before either breakfast or Jessamy came, waking in the early afternoon to a light breeze on my cheeks and Yong-hwa’s thoughtful face above me. I gazed up at him for a little while and came to the conclusion that it wasn’t thoughtfulness in his face; it was remorse. That was too hard to decipher, so I let the thought go and said, my voice slightly slurred, “Oppa.”

  In its own way, this heaviness was just as debilitating as the numbness that came with my Dreams; and the Dreams, as though protesting against the heaviness, had been crowding around my head as I slept all morning, without my being light enough to enter them.

  Yong-hwa’s eyes sharpened on mine as they opened, and he said, “Miane, Clovis-a.”

  “Why are you sorry, Oppa?” I asked. I tried to sit up, but between the heaviness of my body and the flocking Dreams, it was easier just to gaze at the sky through my window.

  Yong-hwa smiled briefly. “Ah, that. I seem to have eaten your breakfast, Clovis-a. Would you like me to send down for some lunch?”

  “When did you get here?” I asked. It was safer than declining lunch, since it would be hard to explain that Carlin would bring some up later, when Yong-hwa wasn’t supposed to know about Carlin. And where was Carlin, if it came to that? Was he hiding in one of the side rooms again? I let the Dreams flutter closer and caught a brief sight of him glumly sitting in the chair beside my bed. He was sprawling with his head tilted back to stare at the ceiling, and there was something of a grimness to his face that I wasn’t used to seeing there.

  “Jessamy-a let me in after breakfast,” said Yong-hwa. “You’ve been sleeping for quite some time.”

  “That must have been very boring for you,” I said. “Where is Jessamy-a, then?”

  I didn’t need to hear the answer; I could see the Dreams more clearly now that I was awake, despite my heaviness. It was a new feeling, and I explored it by following Jessamy as he walked along the lane to the cottage. He was going to see Hwan-chul.

  “Hwan-chul-a didn’t visit us today,” said Yong-hwa, confirming the thought. “I imagine Jessamy has gone to visit him by now. Neither of us knows where he lives, but Jessamy-a doesn’t seem to have any problems finding things out when he needs to do so.”