Chapter 5

Seo-ha sat on the wooden veranda of the Dahyang Tea House, where she came every week for her tea-tasting lesson, and held the welcome tea in her mouth. The crisp scent of the peel had been bright and clean even before the cup reached her lips, and as the clear tea slid down her throat, a tang of citrus lingered on the tip of her tongue. Whether she meant to or not, the taste made her think of someone.

“It’s a green tangerine white tea. How does it taste?”
“Ah, so that’s why… It smells like the room that time you were drying tangerine peel with your back half turned to the sun.”

The tea instructor laughed merrily at Seo-ha’s way of describing a taste.

“Do you know that even if I skip everyone else, I always ask you how it tastes, Seo-ha-ssi? Because you never give me the stock answers: bitter, tasty, that sort of thing. You always put it in some interesting way.”
“Do I…?”

Seo-ha smiled shyly, and that same sweet dimple surfaced on her cheek.

She usually came to the Dahyang Tea House with her adoptive mother for the weekly lesson, but for some reason she had been sent on her own today. Cha Mi-yeon rarely left her side, and Seo-ha felt a pang at the wasted chance. If only she had known beforehand.

Then her head came up sharply. A cool citrus smell had drifted in on the breeze along with a heavy musk, a scent close to the green tangerine white tea and yet unmistakably of a different grain. Her hand trembled for no reason she could name, and the teacup she held tipped a little.

“Careful.”

A low, deep voice rode the wind to her ear. Whoever it was lifted the teetering cup out of her hand and offered a flat greeting.

“Hi.”

The greeting was flat enough to make a fool of all the days she had spent aching for word from him. She had never imagined meeting him again in a place like this, and, flustered, Seo-ha could only open and close her lips.

“Yes. Hello.”

The voice she finally dragged up sounded strange, and she creased her smooth brow slightly.

In that moment the hot sun left her face, and a cool awning of shade settled over her. Seo-ha understood a beat late: he had stepped in front of the stinging sunlight. Her face had cooled, yet she felt hotter than before, and her heart would not stop stirring.

“Do you even know who I am, greeting me like that?”

As if she wouldn’t know. In fact, today she could even make out his large silhouette, though she could hardly answer as plainly as that.

“I can tell from the scent alone. And now that I’ve heard your voice, I’m surer still.”

Jun-hyeok said nothing for a moment after her quiet explanation, then muttered.

“That’s good, then.”

Maybe that was just a verbal tic of his. She was fairly sure she had heard him say something like it last time too. While Seo-ha was still chewing over the words, he cleared his throat lightly and carried on.

“You must have been raised well. Your manners in greeting, at least, are impeccable.”

Unable to tell whether that was sarcasm or praise, Seo-ha tilted her head. A sullen voice followed at once.

“For the record, I wasn’t raised properly at all. Just so you know in advance.”
“For someone like that, you’re always the one who greets me first.”

Before she had finished speaking, a light flick landed on her forehead. More startled by the easy familiarity of the touch than hurt by it, she rubbed the spot blankly with slender fingers.

“Did you forget I told you I’m thirty-four? Young as you are, you’re far too impertinent.”
“Oh, I’m sorry…”
“I take back the part about being raised well. Your greetings are proper, but nobody taught you manners. They don’t teach this sort of thing at home?”

As the scolding ran on and on, a crease formed on the bridge of Seo-ha’s nose.

“What, does this make me sound like a preachy old man? I am one.”

Strangely, one misplaced remark had earned her every kind of browbeating, and still she wasn’t particularly offended.

“Anyway, what is it people taste in something like this?”

She heard the slurp of tea going down. Startled all over again, Seo-ha put out a hand.

“Ah, that’s the tea I was drinking…!”
“So what? Do you have some sort of germ thing?”
“It’s not that…”
“Or are you the type who frets over an indirect kiss, like a kid?”

This man apparently had no idea how to say anything indirectly. In the end Seo-ha let her outstretched hand drop limply.

“Don’t worry. I drank from the side opposite the one your mouth touched.”

Explaining that she hadn’t meant it that way would only have been awkward, so she gave up and asked him something else.

“Did you come to drink tea?”
“No. I told you. This stuff tastes like crap.”

Now it clicked why her adoptive mother, who usually stuck to her like a shadow, had stayed away today. Then she sensed someone behind her, and the tea instructor spoke up.

“And who might this fine gentleman be? Ah, the one Madam said would be coming today…”

Only now did everything seem clear to Seo-ha. Most likely every single thing that happened here from now on would reach Cha Mi-yeon’s ears.

“Seo-ha-ssi, is he your boyfriend?”

The tea instructor’s voice was teasing, slyly fishing. Before Seo-ha had worked out how best to answer, Jun-hyeok beat her to it.

“No. Her husband-to-be.”
“Oh my…”
“I’m a bit impatient by nature.”

The tea instructor clearly hadn’t expected an answer that blunt; even she seemed lost for words. Seo-ha’s own stomach had dropped just the same. Han Jun-hyeok’s voice, direct enough to make a fool of all the days she had spent agonizing, was perfectly composed.

“Oh dear, where is my head. I was going to bring you tea!”
“No need. We have somewhere else to be. It was good to meet you.”

For a man who had declared war by announcing he was badly raised, he came off as better mannered than she was.

Dodam, who had been resting at her feet, got up without Seo-ha giving a command or taking hold of the harness. Surprisingly, he was rather wary of men, which made it odd how little he reacted to Jun-hyeok.

“Shall we go.”

A large hand she had held exactly once, and which already felt familiar, closed around Seo-ha’s small one. Dazed, she took hold of Dodam’s harness and walked slowly down the stone steps of the Dahyang Tea House.

On the way here her heart had been as heavy as lead, yet now, strangely, her steps were light, so light that for the first time she had trusted herself to hands other than Dodam’s without feeling any unease at all.

The airy chiffon dress wound around Seo-ha’s knees with every step. She normally wore trousers in case she fell, and now she thought she understood anew why her adoptive mother had insisted on a dress today, with the fine weather as her excuse.

“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere with no nuisances.”

Did Han Jun-hyeok know too that as long as they stayed at the Dahyang Tea House, her every move would be reported back to the main house? His voice was blunt, but Seo-ha only nodded. She had wanted the same thing, so she had no complaint.

At the car, she felt her way along with a practiced hand and was about to climb into the back seat when Jun-hyeok blocked her with his arm.

“Don’t tell me you’re making me your chauffeur.”

He let out an exasperated sigh, opened the passenger door, and moved to put her in.

“I have to sit in the back because of Dodam.”

Dodam always rode at Seo-ha’s feet, and the front seat was far too cramped for the two of them.

“I’m not the sort to drive someone around in the back like a chauffeured guest. You ride up front. The dog goes in the car seat in the back.”

She was still bewildered by that when his large hand came down on the crown of her head. She barely had time to wonder whether he was being considerate, keeping her from knocking her head on the doorframe, before he all but shoved her down into the passenger seat.

“And Dodam…?”
“Already in and settled.”

Even that didn’t reassure her, and Seo-ha twisted slightly to reach a hand toward the back.

“Dodam?”

That familiar big, damp nose touched her fingers, and the stirring in her chest seemed to settle a little.

“Why do you have a dog car seat in here?”

It would have been a lie to say she hadn’t hoped, just a little, that he had prepared it in advance for her. But the answer that followed was enough to deflate her.

“That seat has an owner of its own.”
“Ah… so you keep a dog.”

Somehow it made a little more sense now why Dodam had been so unusually well disposed toward him all along. In all the moments she couldn’t see in detail, whatever he had done might slowly have loosened Dodam’s guard.

“May I ask what kind of dog?”
“German shepherd.”

Even without seeing it, she thought the breed would suit this man well.

She had a mountain of questions, but with Jun-hyeok’s answers coming back so short, it was hard to keep asking. And anyway, the questions weren’t what mattered right now.

Barely holding down the curiosity about Han Jun-hyeok that kept welling up, Seo-ha worried at her lower lip, pinching it as if to wring it out. It was one of the habits she always fell into when she was nervous. Unaware that Jun-hyeok’s gaze lingered on her for a long time, she did nothing but torment her apricot lips the whole way there.