I stayed in the Dream, caught in wonder at that, and at his skill. In fact, instead of leaving after an hour as I’d originally planned, I didn’t emerge from the Dream until Yong-hwa had finished playing all he had to play and said regretfully, “That’s all for the afternoon, Clovis-a. Will you come back and see me tonight?”
I came to the rather surprising realisation that I’d spent more than three hours listening to him while my body slept at the fishpond with Carlin, and said hastily, “No. I’ll see you tomorrow anyway. I have to go now.”
He was smiling as I pushed away from the Dream to wake by the fishpond. I strenuously resisted that pull for the rest of the afternoon, though I wasn’t entirely sure why. Carlin, who had been tossing food to the fish on the other side of the pond, sauntered back with the information that he’d used it all up and that there was none left for me.
“You shouldn’t Dream away the afternoon if you want to feed the fish,” he said, grinning. “Ready to go in, miss? You’re looking a bit flushed; you’ve probably spent too long in the sun. We’ll have a nice tray of tea and fruit sent up this afternoon.”
Breakfast was barely over the next day when Yong-hwa knocked at the door of my sitting room with a tray piled high with tea and biscuits and fruit. Jessamy, who had also come up to see me, opened the door and grinned at him.
“Hallo,” said Jessamy. “So this is where you were going to in such a hurry.”
“Jessamy-a,” nodded Yong-hwa. “I’m sorry to see that you’re going.”
Jessamy protested ingenuously, “I’m not going anywhere, Hyung.”
“Yes, you are,” said Yong-hwa. “Don’t let me stop you; I insist.” To me he said, “I was going to bring you flowers, but I didn’t know if you liked them or not. And you already have a puppy, so I couldn’t bring one of those, either. Thus, I brought tea.”
“Ya,” said Jessamy. “Who are you calling a puppy?”
“You are a puppy,” I told him.
“Yes, Nuna,” said Jessamy meekly. “Can I eat some of the biscuits before I go?”
“One or two—not those ones.”
“But I like those ones!”
“You can have the other ones,” I said. I’d watched Yong-hwa at tea and biscuits long enough to know which he preferred. “Those are Yong-hwa oppa’s.”
“Nuna, you’re supposed to love me,” said Jessamy sadly. “All right, I’m going, Hyung! You don’t have to kick me out.”
Yong-hwa saw him out with a sympathetic pat to the shoulder, then shut the door firmly behind him. “I would feel flattered that you know something as trivial as my preference in biscuits,” he said, “but I’m sure you’d only tell me that—”
“I saw it in my Dreams,” I said. “There’s nothing very special about it. Do you want to know what Hyun-jun’s favourite meal is? I know that, too.”
“Yes, that,” sighed Yong-hwa. “That’s exactly what I thought you’d say. But I’m in a contrary mood and I’ll choose to feel flattered anyway, at least until you stop Jessamy from eating anything that Hyun-jun wants to eat.”
“That—” I stopped and frowned, but it occurred to me that I hadn’t thought about it; I’d simply acted on instinct. I left the thought alone like a troublesome Dream, and said instead, “Thank you for the tea.”
Yong-hwa sat beside me, his arm falling naturally over the back of the chair and behind me. “It’s an odd thing, Clovis-a,” he said. “Having someone know me so well as you know me. It wouldn’t have taken me so long to unravel the games if you hadn’t known me so well. It’s almost a relief; you’ve already seen me at my worst, not to mention having watched me fall in love with Ae-jung. It must have been very tedious for you.”
“No,” I said, after thinking about it. “It was very interesting. More interesting than Hyun-jun and Ae-jung, at any rate. You can ask questions, Oppa. I’ll answer them.”
“I felt undercurrents from the moment I was in the boardinghouse,” said Yong-hwa slowly. “Just like a harmony so much in tune with the melody that it makes a third tone you almost feel before you hear it. It was so hard to hear, in fact, that the first thing I was really sure of was at the dance with Ae-jung and Hyun-jun. The glass in the ballroom that time—”
I nodded. “That was me. You would have seen me that night if Carlin hadn’t dragged me away just in time.”
Yong-hwa’s eyes flicked up from studying the carpet. “Ah yes,” he said. “That ever-useful, ever-present Carlin of yours.”
“You shouldn’t have turned to look at the glass, Oppa,” I said. “You would have gotten away with Ae-jung if you hadn’t turned right then.”
“And that’s odd, too,” Yong-hwa said thoughtfully. “I know you were playing your games, Clovis-a—”
“Not then,” I said. “Not with you. I was helping Hyun-jun, and I even helped you a little bit. I didn’t put any distance between you and Ae-jung.”
“That’s the odd thing,” said Yong-hwa. “I think I was the one who put the distance there. I played and I planned, and when the time came to act, I always put it off until the next day.”
“First love is always the most difficult,” I said. “You feel off balance and a little bit frightened, and no one wants to be rejected, so it’s easier not to ask.”
Yong-hwa looked amused. “Are you speaking from experience, Clovis-a?”
“No,” I told him. “Observation. I’ve never been in love. I thought you wanted to ask questions; why are you telling me all this, Oppa?”
“Because you didn’t ask,” Yong-hwa said. “And because I want you to understand that my first love has come and gone. I wasn’t quick enough to grasp it when I might have had it, and now I’m grateful, because I know that this time I won’t hesitate.”
“Dae,” I said doubtfully. Yong-hwa was in another of his odd moods. “But there’s no need to be falling in love again straightaway, after all.”
There was the suspicion of movement in my peripheral, then I felt Yong-hwa’s hand slip around the nape of my neck. “Is that your advice to me, Clovis-a?”
His fingers were warm against the back of my neck, and I knew they shouldn’t really be there, but it didn’t occur to me to distrust Yong-hwa, so I didn’t try to pull away. Allowing the heaviness to curl around me, I said, “Is this a new game, Oppa?”
“Call it that for now,” said Yong-hwa, smiling a slow smile at me.
I found myself smiling back, enjoying the warmth of his smile as much as that of his hand. “What are the rules?”
“There are none,” said Yong-hwa. “It begins like this.”
I hadn’t realised that his slender fingers were so strong. They tightened, drawing me closer and tilting my head at just such an angle that my lips were in exactly the right place to meet his. That kiss was a different kind of heaviness altogether, a soft, pliable pressure that pulled me right into myself as even Yong-hwa’s magic-laced music hadn’t done.
I inhaled sharply and put my palm against his chest to push him away. He moved away at once, though the kiss lingered a little, and I saw a distinctly wistful regret in his eyes as he drew back. There it was, that warmth to his face that I’d been hoping to see again; but why was it directed at me?
“Clovis-a?”
“You shouldn’t do that, Oppa,” I said. I was sure I could still feel the pressure of his lips against mine. “You shouldn’t be playing this game with me.”
Yong-hwa was smiling. “Why not, Clovis-a? Is it because you haven’t asked me any questions yet?”
“Yes,” I said. “That. You don’t understand because you don’t properly understand about the Dreams.”
“You’ll have to tell me, then,” said Yong-hwa. “But tell me slowly, Clovis-a. I’ll come back every day and ask you questions, and before you know it, you’ll be asking me questions, too.”
“This isn’t a game I can play properly,” I told him seriously. “Oppa—”
“Tell me, Clovis-a,” Yong-hwa said, and the warmth of his smile was almost as
personal as his kiss had been. “Tell me when you first started to Dream.”
“All right,” I said. “Listen, Oppa, and you’ll understand. I don’t remember when I first started to Dream. I don’t know why I began to Dream, either, or even how the way I Dream is possible . . . ”
13
Eppan summer storms are always catastrophic in their suddenness and breathtaking in their savagery. In Scandia the rain creeps in at the edges of your windows, politely, apologetically, and mopes about for the next few weeks as if ashamed of itself. In Eppa there’s almost no warning before a storm. The sky blackens, the day becomes unbearably humid, and minutes later come the rain, the thunder, and the lightning, tearing apart the sky and devastating the delicate flower beds. I’ve been told that the land workers always know—something in the scent and feel of the air, something on the wind—but suppose the land workers can be taken by surprise, too. Suppose they aren’t paying attention to the signs, or suppose they’re distracted—or perhaps they choose not to pay attention to signs and indicators for a little while.
What happens then?
Even land workers can lose everything if they stop paying attention. You can say that their loss isn’t as great as the loss of the farmer who owns the land, but even if they didn’t own the land, still they tended it. And perhaps it came to be familiar to them, as if it were their own. Could they be blamed for forgetting it wasn’t theirs to start with?
Dae? Oh, it’s you, Oppa. I’m tired today; we’ve been meeting every day for the last two weeks. I’m going to rest for a little while.
***
“That’s it; there’s nothing more,” I said. Today we were in the library, where I had tried to read without taking in a single sentence until Yong-hwa found me there. “I’ve answered everything you asked, and there’s nothing more to tell. Besides, I’ll be leaving for Abeoji’s estate in another two weeks. You’ll have to stop playing this game then.”
“Clovis-a,” said Yong-hwa solemnly, “have you forgotten that I’m a treasured client of your father’s? Either he or Jessamy would invite me to the estate in five minutes if I seemed remotely interested.”
“Conceit,” I said. The truth was, I had forgotten. Yong-hwa had a habit of making me almost as absentminded as my Dreams did, and it was an unsettling feeling. “Oppa, this isn’t a good game for you to be playing with me. You’ll just get hurt again if you let it go too far. I’ve told you—well, I’ve told you everything. There’s nothing else to tell, and there’s nothing else to do.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Clovis-a,” said Yong-hwa pleasantly. “There’s much more to tell, and there’s certainly something else I can do.”
“Ya!” I said in surprise, ducking behind my book as he leaned forward to kiss me. “Hajima!”
Yong-hwa sat back, but his cheeks were very sharp. “After all, it’s my own affair if I get hurt again, isn’t it? I’ll love who I choose.”
“No, it’s not!” I said crossly. “I didn’t play games with you so that you could be hurt again. Why do you want to fall in love with someone who can’t even feel?”
“If that were the case, you wouldn’t mind me playing this game with you,” Yong-hwa said. He added, with a glowing look at my red cheeks, “And you wouldn’t blush when I try to kiss you, either.”
“Girls always blush when someone tries to kiss them,” I protested. Blushing was another thing that Yong-hwa made me do, which took me as much by surprise as the absentmindedness did. “And so do a lot of men, so I wouldn’t be so superior, if I were you.”
“Why?” asked Yong-hwa, his face lighting with laughter again. “Are you going to kiss me, Clovis-a? Was it a threat?”
“I knew it was a bad idea to play games with you,” I said gloomily. “You’re too clever. I don’t know why I expected to win that game.”
“Think of it this way, Clovis-a: from my perspective, you’ve overcome me completely. You won this game before it began.”
“It isn’t a game I was trying to win.”
“It’s too late now, Clovis-a; I’m caught. What will you do with me?”
“Oppa—”
“No, we’ll try an easier question. What shall we do tomorrow?”
I blinked, thrown off guard. “Tomorrow? What about tomorrow? We’re—we’re finished with questions, Oppa. There’s nothing more for me to tell you, so there’s no need for you to come back to see me.”
“I’ll drive you out in the Energy vehicle,” said Yong-hwa, as if I hadn’t spoken. “I’m going to make you ask questions, Clovis-a. Be sure you’re ready to go after breakfast.”
“I won’t go,” I called after him as he left. Yong-hwa only smiled at me from the door, his brown eyes bright, and I knew then that I would certainly go tomorrow. As to whether or not I would ask questions, well, time would tell.
The next day arrived bright and fresh after a lingering night, and I found myself looking at the door to the hallway more than once as I ate a hasty breakfast.
“There’s no need to shovel it down like that,” said Carlin, who was unimpressed and inclined to show it. “You’ll give yourself indigestion. Or you’ll be travel-sick.”
“Or get rained on?” I suggested. “Why are you so gloomy today?”
“The road is full of holes,” said Carlin. “I should be coming with you. Miss. I shouldn’t be staying here. I didn’t think nice young Eppan ladies were supposed to go out with young men without a servant.”
“Then I suppose it’s a good thing I’m a nice young Scandian lady,” I said. “Anyway, look out the window: Jessamy and Hwan-chul are already in the back seat. We’re all going to be Very Proper.”
“If you say so, miss,” said Carlin, just as Yong-hwa knocked at the door. Made even more unimpressed by the discovery that Yong-hwa and not he was to carry me to the vehicle, Carlin bid me farewell with a gloomy “Make sure you don’t get rained on.”
Yong-hwa, by contrast, was as merry as I’d ever seen him. He settled me in the front seat with him and tossed a couple of toffee apples at Jessamy and Hwan-chul—who both protested they were too old for childish treats but ate them anyway—then started the Energy model with a powerful surge down the driveway.
Unlike in the back seat, where I had been placed last time, there was a belt in the front seat to hold me in. Despite that, I still wasn’t used to the smooth motion of the wheels as opposed to the juddering of Contraption models. It was more noticeable in the front seat than it had been when I travelled in the back, and for the first few miles I kept my hands on either side of me, pressing tightly into the leather as if it could somehow slow our terrifyingly quick progress. I might have left them there indefinitely if Yong-hwa hadn’t begun to run one finger over the back of the one closest to him, prompting a trailing feather edge of shivers all the way up my arm.
I snatched the hand away. “Ya!”
“I’m testing, Clovis-a,” he said. “You’ve said you don’t feel anything, but I beg to differ. I’m testing how much you do feel.”
“I meant heart-feelings,” I said. “Besides, you’re one of the few people whose touch I always do feel.”
Yong-hwa gave me a glowing look that formed the same kind of shivers his touch had, this time up and down my back.
“Ya,” I said again. “I told you to stop playing this game.”
“Did you ask my permission when you began playing games with me?”
“That—” I stopped, because his eyes were on my face, his cheeks very sharp.
“I’m not complaining,” he explained. “As a matter of fact, I’m very grateful you didn’t. I can’t imagine I would have been stupid enough to say no, but you never know, after all. Can I hold your hand, Clovis-a?”
“No,” I said. “Ya, how can you steer with one hand?”
“Then will you dance with me tomorrow?”
“No,” I said. Eun-hee was planning another dance tomorrow, and although I’d thought I might attend in my usual manner, there was no chance of my danci
ng. “I can’t dance.”
“That’s good,” he said. He saw my involuntary look of surprise, and explained, “It means I can teach you. Very well, our lessons begin the day after tomorrow. That should be good for another year or so of daily visits, don’t you think?”
I blinked at him and then at the road, for once in my life completely unsure of how to proceed. It wasn’t a Dream that I could influence, and Reality with Yong-hwa wasn’t one in which I could conveniently disappear. I found that I was pushing against the seat again, my fingers white against the leather, and frowned down at those fingers. Yong-hwa’s darker fingers were an inch or two away, relaxed where mine were tight, and perhaps it was curiosity that made me do it: I ran my finger down the back of his hand as he had done to me just a few minutes ago.
The vehicle jerked to one side and then back. When it was steady again, my hand was caught up in Yong-hwa’s. “Clovis-a,” he said. “I very much want to kiss you right now.”
“You can’t!” I protested, and Jessamy gave a muted yelp from the back seat.
“Hyung! The bank!”
“Jessamy-a, I want to kiss your sister.”
“All right, but after we stop,” complained Jessamy. “Hwan-chul-a, you’ve put your toffee apple in my hair again!”
“Yes, but this time it was an accident,” said Hwan-chul.
“Nuna,” said Jessamy, leaning forward to hang from the back of our seat, “you shouldn’t distract Yong-hwa hyung. He already drives too fast and he doesn’t like it when people move around the front seat a lot.”
“Thank you, Jessamy-a,” I said, reaching across to pat his head with my free hand. “It’s very kind of you to warn me.”
And Yong-hwa, curling his fingers through mine, said, “That’s right, Clovis-a. As a matter of fact, you shouldn’t move at all.”
The next day, the storm broke without warning on the manor. The first earth-shattering crack of thunder sounded late in the afternoon—a Dream that pushed everything else aside to make room for it. Grounded by Jessamy’s presence that morning and Yong-hwa’s smile and butterfly touches through the afternoon, I had felt it not just possible, but necessary, to attend Eun-hee’s planned dance that night. I didn’t tell Yong-hwa; it had occurred to me that I wanted to surprise him. It had also occurred to me that perhaps it would be possible to be like Eun-hee for one evening, and to desperately dance until I could dance no more, even if I didn’t know how.
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