The Lady He Avoids
A week later, the marketplace was once again alive with noise—vendors calling out their wares, children weaving through the crowd, and the steady hum of life in the capital.
Jin-Ri walked beside Young-Sik, hands clasped behind her back as she strolled leisurely, occasionally glancing at the stalls that lined the street. It felt almost normal—too normal, considering everything that had happened just days before.
Without warning, Young-Sik suddenly pulled her into a narrow corner between two shops.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, startled by the prince’s sudden action.
Instead of answering, he pressed a finger to his lips.
Quiet.
He leaned slightly forward and peeked around the edge of the wall—then immediately pulled back.
“What is it? Are we in trouble?” she whispered, her voice dropping instinctively.
“Worse,” he whispered back. “Can you see a snobbish-looking young lady with a throng of servants following her?”
Jin-Ri frowned but couldn’t resist the urge. She leaned forward and peeked around the corner.
And then she saw her.
The young lady moved through the crowd as if she owned the very ground she stepped on. Her robes flowed elegantly behind her, untouched by the dust of the street. When something caught her interest, she didn’t even bother to reach for it—her servants rushed forward instead, examining the item on her behalf.
“Wow…” Jin-Ri muttered under her breath. “What a stuck-up—she couldn’t even be bothered to touch what she wanted to buy.”
“The ‘stuck-up lady’ is Lim Ji-Hye,” Young-Sik whispered, still keeping himself hidden. “The only child of Minister Lim.”
“No wonder she’s like that,” Jin-Ri snorted softly. “She’s the daughter of the man with something stuck up his—”
Young-Sik quickly pressed a finger to her lips this time.
Jin-Ri froze.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
They were close—far closer than before. The cramped space forced them together, his hand still lightly against her lips, her back pressed against the wall. She could feel the warmth of him, hear the faint rhythm of his breathing.
Her heart began to flutter.
Why?
She didn’t understand it. Her thoughts scattered, and before she could stop herself, her body moved. Slowly, hesitantly, her hands began to rise—drawn toward him as if pulled by something she couldn’t name.
“I think they’re gone,” Young-Sik said.
The spell shattered.
Jin-Ri quickly lowered her hands, stepping back as if nothing had happened.
“Thank goodness…” she thought, trying to steady herself.
Young-Sik slipped out from their hiding place, cautious but composed. Jin-Ri followed, both of them glancing around to confirm that Ji-Hye and her entourage were no longer in sight.
“I think she’s gone,” he said with a quiet sigh of relief.
They turned to resume their walk.
“Who’s gone?”
The voice came from directly in front of them.
Both of them froze.
Ji-Hye stood there, perfectly poised, her servants gathered behind her like a moving wall of silk and color.
Her eyes immediately scanned Young-Sik—and her lips tightened.
“How many times must I remind you to wear clothes fit for a prince?” she said sharply. “I cannot have my future husband wandering about looking like a farmhand.”
Jin-Ri blinked.
Future husband?
Ji-Hye’s gaze shifted, landing squarely on her.
“And you?”
Jin-Ri glanced around before pointing at herself. “Me?”
“Yes, you. Who are you?”
“Me? I’m just his court maid,” Jin-Ri replied casually.
Ji-Hye’s eyes narrowed.
“How dare you speak to the prince and me in such a manner? You have not even bowed. Do you wish to be punished?”
Jin-Ri tilted her head slightly. “Why would I bow to you?”
Her tone was light. Innocent.
Completely devoid of respect.
Before Ji-Hye could react, Young-Sik reached out and grabbed Jin-Ri lightly by the nape, guiding her into a small bow.
Jin-Ri shot him a glare as she straightened, rubbing the back of her neck.
“That’s better,” Ji-Hye said, though her tone remained sharp. “But still… how could you allow your master to go out looking like this?”
Jin-Ri opened her mouth to respond—
“Then again,” Ji-Hye cut in smoothly, “you are merely a lowly servant. I cannot expect you to understand proper presentation—even if it were placed before you.”
Jin-Ri’s eyebrow twitched.
“I suppose, to you, this…” Ji-Hye gestured toward Young-Sik’s clothing with visible distaste. “This ugly thing is the height of fashion?”
That was enough.
Jin-Ri’s blood boiled. Her hands curled into fists, her body already leaning forward—
She was going to lunge.
—but before she could take a step, she was pushed back.
Young-Sik stepped in front of her, placing himself squarely between the two women.
“There is no need for that, Lady Ji-Hye,” he said calmly. “And as I have told you before, I prefer walking around the capital in simple clothing.”
His tone remained polite.
Carefully polite.
But there was something firm beneath it.
Ji-Hye didn’t seem to notice—or chose to ignore it.
“That will have to change,” she replied without hesitation. “Once we are married, I cannot allow my husband to appear anything less than princely.”
Her eyes wandered—and then lit up.
“There.”
Without waiting for a response, she reached out, took Young-Sik by the arm, and began pulling him toward a nearby clothing shop.
Jin-Ri blinked.
Then frowned.
Then hurried after them.
