Yeon

The night had grown deep. Moonlight seeping through the papered lattice windows of the inner palace cast pale ripples across the chamber, while only the faint chirring of insects somewhere beyond the walls threaded through the silence.

Yeon looked down at the court lady trembling before him. He had expected the newly appointed attendant to be inexperienced, yet he had not imagined such bashfulness, hands quivering like aspen leaves.

The court lady's fingertips touched the ties of Yeon's robe. Yet the fingers could find no proper strength, merely fumbling over the knot. A single breath should have been enough to undo it, and still the court lady had been struggling for quite some time. Through it all, that head never lifted, while a flush rising from the earlobes to the nape stood plainly visible.

The faintly trembling shoulders, the slender line of the throat quivering whenever a breath was swallowed, and that delicate expression that seemed ready to fill with tears at any moment held Yeon's gaze longer than they ordinarily would have. Under other circumstances, he would have thought nothing of it. Whether a court lady from the royal kitchens or one sent to attend him in his bedchamber, to Yeon they had all been but one among the countless faces filling the palace. Yet there was something about this particular court lady's trembling that strangely drew his eye.

At this rate, dawn will break before a single knot comes undone.

Yeon laughed softly to himself. The situation was amusing, and somehow endearing. Yet outwardly, his voice emerged as calm as ever.

Why do you blush so deeply merely from loosening the ties of my robe?