"So…is what you have to tell me more shocking than your marriage announcement?" Although I tried to keep my tone light, admittedly, vocalizing the reality of Chi's eventual marriage made me feel physically ill.
"Don't joke about such things."
I turned to Chi in surprise. He was normally so soft-spoken and warm. His voice wasn't harsh or scolding, but it held none of its trademark brightness. Although his hand was still entwined with mine, he didn't face me, and, studying his profile in the low light of the garden's setting sun, I realized that he didn't look his usual self, either. His face had gotten thinner in the days since he went away, and somehow, he seemed older in a way that was both mature and strained at once.
I slowed my steps to a near stand-still and with my free hand, reached to touch his cheek. "I'm sorry. You should know—" I swallowed. "I don't mean it. I'm trying to make it less hard, but truthfully, there's nothing that can do that."
Chi stopped completely, turning to face me, he cupped the hand touching his cheek with his own. Clasping it, he brought it down, so that he held both of my hands. "Don't apologize. I'm sorry. There's nothing that makes me happier than hearing you laugh. There never was." A sigh escaped. "It's only that it reminds me that I'll have to walk away from you someday."
It was true. Every single word, and I knew it too. "Don't think of it," I finally managed. "I've been unhappy long enough that I know that happiness doesn't always last long anyways. So, I've decided to enjoy having you as my own for as long as I'm allowed to." My voice was light again, but this time, it was also sincere. I wished with all my heart that things could be different, but perhaps I'd been given a gift, in that I knew how short and precious our time would be. In that sense, I could do what I wanted with the time we had left.
Chi didn't speak for a moment, but he didn't need to. I'd never really expected to ever get married. I was always so busy, and while the part of me that was visible to everyone else implied that I was a cool, driven queen-of-no-marriage, there was also a small part of me that struggled to believe that anyone could truly like me. The more I lost myself in my work, the less I believed that I was a likeable person, or even one suited to interpersonal relationships. But one look into Chi's eyes told me, without uncertainty, that he truly liked me. He let go of one hand, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close to him.
"What did I ever do to meet someone like you?" He murmured against my hair.
"You must have been bad in a past life." Once again, I teased because it was easier than confronting the raw pain that now lay between us.
"Probably. But I'd like to think that I was good enough to deserve you."
It was my turn to stay quiet. I'd only just gotten used to the idea that Chi was only a temporary part of my life—or at least tried to get used to the idea. But it seemed like at every turn, he did or said something that made that task harder. "I'm the one who doesn't really deserve you." I mumbled it into his chest, more of a whisper to myself than a vocalized thought.
But somehow, he heard it. He moved his hands up my arms and to my shoulders, holding me back. "What would make you say that?"
I hesitated. There is the fact that I'm lying to you about who I really am… But then, was I? If there were anyone who I felt knew me, it was him.
I was spared having to answer when Chi spoke again. "Ha-Na, how much do you remember from when we were children?"
"Well, you know…I remember a lot. Some of the details are fuzzy, but it was so long ago—"
"No." Chi's grip on my shoulders was light, and his voice was kind, as always. But I could hear the seriousness in it. "No, Ha-Na, I mean how much do you really remember?"
I couldn't lie to him. And something told me that I could be at least partially truthful with him. "If I told the truth—not much." Worry lines creased Chi's forehead and I immediately felt awful. "I'm sorry. It's not that I don't remember you, it's just that I really can't remember much of anything—or anyone—else, not in great detail, anyways. It's sort of like," I gulped. "It's sort of like reading an account of history, I guess."
"I'm not worried about you remembering or not remembering me." Chi gently stroked my shoulders with his thumbs. "So please don't worry about my feelings. But I'll ask one more question; do you remember how you got your scar?"
I paused, in a slightly numb shock. In reality, Ha-Na's scar was pretty visible and with the amount of pointed remarks the Queen Dowager made, I would actually have been surprised if he hadn't noticed it. It was having spent so many weeks keeping my curiosity about it to myself that made his realization of it so stunning. "Honestly…I don't."
Chi nodded, pensively. "I suppose that makes sense. You were so young, and it must have been traumatic." He spoke more to himself than to me, as though he was trying to sort through what was logical and what wasn't. He finally turned his focus to me again. "Thank you for being honest with me."
"I could never lie to you." As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to bite them back. Of course, that wasn't true. In a perfect world, I would never lie to Chi. Our interactions would always be open, and I'd never be afraid to tell him anything; he already knew me so well, that it was almost impossible to imagine otherwise. Still, although my words couldn't be perfectly true in this world, I could do the best I could to not lie to Chi.
"Tell me anything that bothers you, from now on." He stroked a stray piece of hair from my forehead. "And ask me anything; I could never keep anything from you either."
"Well, since you brought it up—could you tell me about my scar?"
Chi nodded. "I owe you that. I'll admit, I thought it was strange that you didn't remember, but I figured it was for the best if you had simply blocked it out." He absently stroked my hair. "When I tell you how spirited you were when you were young, I mean it out of love. You were—and are—always the brightest light in my life. Unfortunately, not everyone can appreciate that brightness. Certainly not my aunt."
"She did this to me." I didn't have to elaborate on who "she" was—Chi knew right away.
"She did." The sadness in his eyes cut straight into my heart, the pain in them registering as if I, not Ha-Na, had been the one who'd been hurt. "Ha-Na." The way he said my name broke my heart. He reached out, cradling the side of my head. "I'm so sorry for what she's done to you. If I could have—" His voice became choked, filled with overflowing sorrow.
"Chi, no," I said gently, my hand covering his. "You would have been a child. There was nothing you could do to stop that—��� I collected myself. "…Your aunt."
Chi shook his head. "Still, I should have. If I could have taken her hit for you, I would have."
"I know you would have." As nauseating as the truth was when spoken aloud, it wasn't surprising, nor was it Chi's fault. I managed a smile at him. "Don't worry anymore; not about that."
"I do though." The pressure in Chi's grasp on me grew, as if holding me tighter would keep me from all harm. "I worry about you all the time, but I thought that as long as I was here, I could help you and prevent you from being hurt by my aunt again. I knew that I'd have to marry soon, but I hadn't anticipated on it being as soon as it has come. I'll always do everything to protect you, but there are limits—"
"Once you're married," I finished.
Chi didn't reply but nodded his response.
"When will that be?" I didn't like asking, but it needed to be done.
Chi's eyes fell to the ground. It was as if he was in shame, although we both knew he had no control over his circumstances. "My aunt hasn't set a date yet, but probably by this harvest season."
"Well, we have until then."
"We don't, Ha-Na."
"Hm?"
Chi's eyes found mine again, and I could see the pink rims around them. "What I did—bringing you here—was selfish. It was a wrong choice; certainly not one befitting a prince who is meant to care for his people."
His people? My stomach lurched at being grouped in with the rest of the vast kingdom, a stranger in a crowd of hundreds.
A nobody.
"Chi," I willed myself to keep my tone level. "Was I really the only choice for your agriculture project?"
Chi hesitated. "You were the best choice."
A wave of nausea hit me again. So, I wasn't irreplaceable.
It was silly; I knew I wasn't. No one was, of course. But for the first time in ages, when working on the fields with Chi, I felt as though I could contribute valuable work to a real cause. Chi had always made me feel that without me, the project wouldn't have been as successful. Maybe I was silly to believe that, but the thought had sustained me through the darkness of uncertainty. To think that I was, again, someone who could be discarded at any moment made that small, open, light-filled door feel suddenly smaller and dark again.
Chi drew me into his chest again. "Please don't misunderstand that. When I say 'best,' I mean 'best.' You have great talent and what's more, I knew that you had the heart and compassion for this project and for the people it would serve. You have never once proved me wrong on that."
I breathed in slowly, taking in his warm, now-familiar scent. Chi always smelt like sunshine mixed with Chung-Hee's herbs. Combined with his overall presence, whenever I was with him, I now felt like I was home.
"Please forgive me, Ha-Na." His voice was soft against my hair. "Please forgive me for bringing you here because I wanted to see you one last time."
I didn't speak for several moments, content to simply be held by someone who only wanted to hold me. When I did speak, my answer came painfully, yet easily. "I'll forgive you," I murmured. "But only if you'll forgive me for never wanting to let you go."
Chi hugged me tighter for a moment before holding me back again. "I'll never let you go, Ha-Na. Not really."
I managed a tearful smile at him, although my grasp on his forearms revealed my agreement with his last words. "Since you'll have to belong to your wife soon, please do me one favour?"
"Anything." Chi grimaced when I mentioned the word, "wife," but his gaze never left mine.
"Help me to survive here."
Chi's lips parted in what I could tell was a protest that would be along the lines of "Of course, you can survive here" or "Of course, I'll help you." Those would be very "Chi" responses; he always, no matter what, tried to lift me up with his words. But this time, all I needed was for someone to believe me.
I lifted a single finger to his lips before he could speak. "I'm going to tell you something," my voice trembled as I spoke. "And I need you to not think that I'm completely crazy."