Part 9

"We'll start developing this field here, then maybe expand past the forest if we have to," Chi explained, pointing to a large expanse of green space.

I wrinkled my nose. "You mean you'll cut down the forest?"

"Sorry?" Chi turned to me, his eyebrows raised. It dawned on me how strange my question must have sounded; cutting down whole forests was such a modern concept, that I couldn't even figure out how they'd do it in Goryeo.

"Never mind." I quickly changed the subject. "So, where is the king, exactly?"

Chi sighed. "Normally, the king doesn't leave his kingdom, but he wanted to make trips to some of the individual villages. Many of my uncles—my father's brothers—have married into influential families." He shot me a sideways glance, and it didn't exactly take brain science to realize that by 'influential,' he also meant 'political.' "So, it's important that he keeps all the branches in the family tree united, so to speak."

"Right."

"I really wish he hadn't gone, though. He should be back within the week, but I could have done some of the visiting rounds for him."

"Well, you're doing this," I pointed out.

"Yes. But Ju's wife—the queen—is expecting their first child within the next month." He turned to me. "You won't say anything about it, will you? The kingdom knows that she is expecting, but we try to keep the exact dates vague, for her own protection."

"Of course." Who would I tell, anyways?

"Thank you. I'm very excited to meet the new little one. Ju and I became close after I spent more time at the palace, after Father died. He also had his trials growing up, so it means very much to me to see him happy, with his new family.

"Definitely. I won't have any nieces or nephews, but I can imagine it's special." I bit my lip almost as soon as I finished speaking. Let's hope that Ha-Na is an only child, I prayed.

"Yes, it is. Although, I would think that it's an unparalleled experience to having your own children. That's why I wish that Ju would have let me go instead. He should be here for the birth of his child." His tone was soft, wistful almost. It was moments like these, that I saw just how much Chi missed his parents. I wrapped my arms around myself, despite the intense, late morning sun. I missed my parents too.

I had always been close with my parents when I was growing up, especially since I was their only child. We only got closer over time, especially with moving to the U.K. for my father's work for five years when I was in high school. Sometimes, admittedly, I'd wished that I had siblings so that I wouldn't have quite so much of their focus on myself, but no matter what, we were a team. I wasn't sure when some the distance between us happened.

It wasn't like they didn't care or I didn't care, but when I left for grad school, our life together changed. I was away most of the time, and our phone calls changed from once a day to once a week, then sometimes not even that. No matter how hard I tried, my life and my experience in graduate school felt very separate from my life with my parents. Even now, I knew that there was distinctively, a sense of "before" and "after" to my life, and that divider had been caused by my intense focus on being the perfect grad student. "So much for that," I thought with a wave of bitterness.

"Are you alright, Ha-Na?" I was snapped back to reality by the concern in Chi's tone.

"Fine," I replied, although I hesitated meeting his eyes because I realized I was blinking hot, angry tears out of mine.

"Do you miss your father?" His voice was sympathetic.

"My mother too. And my grandmother…" I bit my lip. Of course, Chi thought that I was missing Hong Ha-Na's father, the former court physician. Not my own parents.

Nothing about the time I would spend here, however long or short that would be, was real.

"It's hard, isn't it?" Chi continued. If he'd noticed some discrepancy between my words and Ha-Na's life, he chose to ignore it. "Losing the people you love."

I nodded and, giving my eyes one final swipe, turned to meet his glance. "It is."

"I miss my family too. Many people think that it's easy being royal, but the higher up you are, the more you have that others can take from you. You don't remember much about palace life?" He took my nod as confirmation. "Then you won't remember it, but even when we were young, rumours swirled that I would try to take the throne from my uncle. Or from Ju, eventually."

I blinked at him in surprise. Nothing about Chi suggested that he would ever do anything horrible to anyone. But then, I also knew—again, from Halmeoni's costume dramas—that power struggles were common amongst royal families. It was no wonder, really, with all those siblings and half siblings. Anyone who doubted that had obviously never seen modern siblings fight over an inheritance before.

"I can't see anyone suspecting you of anything," I reported my thoughts.

Chi's smile turned wry again, much like when we first met. "Noted. I'm glad I don't carry a threatening presence at all."

I blushed. "Sorry, that's not what I meant…"

Chi laughed, only good humour remaining. "I know. And don't be sorry. I'm glad if I'm not particularly threatening."

I gave a nervous giggle. Despite feeling weirdly comfortable around him for someone I'd only just met, there was always the lingering unease that he was a prince. And from a completely different century. "Well, except maybe when you were hovering over me, back when we first met." I cringed as soon as the words left my mouth. What the heck was wrong with me? Not only was it a reminder of our equally cringe-worthy first meeting—which I, personally, wanted to forget as soon as possible—but my wording choices were a bit…implicative.

Chi's laughter continued, stronger this time. "Yes, I still remember it clearly. Don't be embarrassed," he added, after seeing my blush. Coming back to a place where you haven't been for years is a disorienting experience. I didn't have much interaction with the palace until about a year before my father died. He was sick then, and sometimes I would be brought over to stay with Ju for a few days. I think my aunt saw it as a way of recommitting our side of the family's loyalty to her side. After awhile, my uncle seemed to want to smooth things over a bit with my father, so once, when I returned home, your father was already there. My uncle sent him to try to help. Well…to say that nothing more could be done, really." That small grimace of concealed pain returned to his features, and if it wasn't such a crazy-bad idea, I would've given him a hug.

"Anyway, your father was sent here to treat mine, and to make him comfortable during the time he had left. And that was hard to see." He swallowed. "I knew that I should have stayed closer by Father's side, but he was always so weary. Happy to see me, but tired. He slept often. I struggled to stay in the house." Chi's jaw was set as he spoke. "Having your father staying with him was reassuring for me, and I knew I could leave the house for a while and that he'd be taken care of."

The firm lines at the corners of Chi's mouth lifted as his mouth curved into a faint smile. "One day, I was wandering around by the pond, and I saw you. Well, I didn't know it was you, at the time. I thought you were dead."

"Ugh," I shuddered. Coming from me, it was half statement, half question. "Why would you think I was dead?

Chi's lips twitched with barely-concealed laughter. "Because you were splayed out, face down in the grass."

"Oh. I see."

"I was so young at the time, and with Father dying…I wanted to run away, but I wanted to make sure that I couldn't help you, in some way. So I walked over and tried tapping you on the shoulder."

"And?" Was I ready for the answer?

Chi was really laughing now. "You rolled over, squinted up at me with the most disdainful look I've ever seen on anyone's face, let alone a child's, and told me to go away."

Now I was cringing. "I didn't."

"You did." I blushed in embarrassment—why, I'm not sure, since it was Ha-Na's doing, not mine—but Chi didn't seem to notice. "It's funny," he said, his gaze wandering back to some land of time past. "I barely remembered the details of that day. It was a hard time and it's been so many years. But it all came flooding back to me when I saw you again."

**********

Later that night, I lay alone in my bed at the palace. Chi needed to meet with Seung-Ro, and even though he told me to ring for Chung-Hee any time I needed her, I didn't want to distract her from anything else she needed to do.

"How did I end up here?" I wondered for the umpteenth time since yesterday, only this time, it was an actual question. If this was a dream, it was the longest dream ever, and shouldn't I wake up when the dream version of me woke? No, somehow, this was reality. So that left me with the question of how exactly I ended up here. No matter how I tried to figure it out—besides the obvious time-travel answer—I couldn't do it.

And yet, my presence here must have had a purpose, I truly felt that. Despite suddenly landing here, I was conveniently embraced. I had a place to stay, a vocation—and one that was eerily similar to my own. And then I had…it felt strange to think so, but I also had Chi, who was on my side. Who I felt I knew. Who knew me.

"No, Hanna. You don't know him. No matter how much you may want it to work,, he's a stranger," I reminded myself. Which brought me to my next question; if I was here, in Ha-Na's body, then where was Ha-Na?

I shuddered. Too many hard questions with no real answers. It was better not to muse on them. Just survive, day by day. As I practiced my focused breathing exercises, I glanced around my room. Well, Ha-Na's room, that belonged to the ruling royal family. Chi had explained that he'd inherited his father's home in his hometown after his parents died, but that he mainly lived at the palace, since he served on Ju's advisory committee. That was all very good and well, but it also meant that I'd be stuck in the palace too, as long as Chi was here.

The room was beautiful and comfortable, in that plushy, expensive-hotel way, but it also lacked the personal touches that someone's bedroom usually has. What can make it better? I wondered. Nothing, I realized, with a sigh. I didn't belong here. Even if this palace had been totally modern-day, I still wasn't exactly royal material.

I was lounging back in bed, sulking, when I hear a knock on the door. "Who is it?" I called, the grouchiness apparent in my voice.

"It's me." Even though he didn't say his name, I knew his voice.

"Come in."

Chi poked his head in, a bright grin on his face. Until he saw mine, that is. "Ha-Na? You're not crying, are you?"

"S-sorry. No." Although my trembling voice and desperate eye-swiping painted me an automatic liar. I secretly wondered if I could get away with telling him it was 'women's issues.' Maybe then he'd leave me be and wouldn't ask anything else.

Chi came in, closing the door behind him. "Are you unwell? Should I ring for Chung-Hee?"

I gave my head a quick shake. "No, "I replied, hoping that it covered both questions.

Out of the corner of my tear-bleared eye, I saw Chi lay something down on my vanity table before coming towards me. "Is it alright if I sit down?" He asked.

I nodded scrunching my legs to my chest and pulling my robes over. Chi sat down in the vacant space, perching on the edge of the bed. He turned to me. "You're homesick, aren't you?"

I wanted to say "no." I'd never been homesick before, not really. Not when we'd moved to London, not when I went to grad school, not when I was practically squatting at Halmeoni's. But then, maybe Chi had summarized the situation perfectly. I was completely without a home. How do you make a home in a place—and a time—that isn't yours? Slowly, I nodded, a few stray sobs escaping. "A little."

"I'm sorry." Chi's eyes conveyed sympathy, but his voice expressed genuine remorse.

"What for?"

"I should say calling you here in the first place, but I'm glad you're here." His lips curved into a slight smile. "But I only thought about what I said this afternoon later today. It…wasn't very considerate of me."

I backtracked through our afternoon's conversation. "Huh? What was so inconsiderate about it?"

"I shouldn't be spending so much time reminiscing about things that you don't remember."

"Don't…no, I remember."

Chi shook his head, the corners of his mouth curving upwards. "Ha-Na, you were very young when we knew each other. I can tell that there is much that you've forgotten. I can see it," the corners of his mouth twitched, "in your eyes."

I blushed a little. Caught. I never did have a good poker face.

"It's no matter," Chi's voice was soft as he spoke. "You're not here to reflect on shared memories. I brought you here to do a job, and like any good employer—and friend—I should also be making sure that you have everything you need. So, if you need anything, feel free to call for Chung-Hee, but also please ask me for anything you need."

I nodded again. "Ok."

"And if you hear me talking about anything that you don't remember…" Chi stood up. Somehow, the space by my feet felt instantly colder. "Let me know. I'll try not to do it anymore."

I smiled at Chi—my first real, genuine smile since arriving here. Probably my first genuine smile in months. "Understood, Your Highness."

For a second, Chi froze, and I could almost see something flicker behind the light of his eyes.

Maybe. A second later, he was himself again as he shot me a quick grin. "Well, goodnight, Ha-Na."

I watched his back as he walked towards the door, before he paused, turning back to me. "I almost forgot." He went to the vanity table, picking up his previously discarded item along with my washing pitcher. "This is for you." He handed me a flower. The Rose of Sharon, I realized.

"Thank you!" I took it from him, giving it an appreciative sniff.

"This room needs some personal touches, and I remembered that you always loved fresh flowers in your room." He took an empty vase from beside my bed, filling it with water from the pitcher. I plunked the flower in, gazing at it like it was the best thing ever. Chi was right—even though he spoke about his Ha-Na, I'd also always loved having fresh flowers in my room, especially right beside my bed, where their sweet perfume would be the first thing I'd smell when waking up, and the last before I fell asleep. I hadn't realized it before, but I'd missed filling my room with flowers in the recent past, and Chi's gift reminded me of a happier, less painful time.

"You know me well," I told Chi. "Even if I don't always know you." I bit my lip. I had to be careful with what I said here. I knew that. And yet, something about being here loosened my tongue. Considerably.

Chi gave a little cough sound and stared at the floor. For a moment, I wondered if what I'd said was a bit overkill, and was debating apologizing, when Chi lifted his gaze, leveling it with mine.

"I always remembered you. I wouldn't pretend to completely know you—I don't think one person can ever do that. But have you ever…have you ever known someone whose life felt entwined with yours? That no matter how far they've gone from you, that they'd always return? Because they," his eyes darted downwards again. "Because they belonged next to you?" His eyes met mine again, and he gave a little laugh—although it sounded shaky, even to me. "I didn't mean that how it probably sounded. I apologize."

I swallowed, finding it surprisingly hard to talk. "If I'm not supposed to say sorry to you anymore, then I don't think you should say it to me, either." I smiled at his confused expression. "I don't think that anyone should be punished for saying what they think. Or what they feel."

Chi responded to my smile. "Well, I'm grateful. And I admire your spirit."

"Apparently I haven't changed much."

"Oh, you have." The amber flecks in Chi's irises were piercing as he spoke. "In the best of ways."

Before I's decided to ask him what he meant, he nodded to me and back out of the doorway. "Sleep well, Ha-Na."

"You too."

For a long time after, I couldn't sleep. After a couple of hours of tossing and turning, I sat up in bed and opened the shutters over my window. Taking my flower from my night table, I sat it on the windowsill. Lying back down, I watched as the moonlight made a flower-shaped shadow.

Ha-Na had meant a lot to Chi when they were young. I didn't know where the real Ha-Na was or why I was here instead, but what I did know was that we'd both been people who had walked alone for a long time. So, if in some bizarre twist of events, I hadn't just stumbled here, but was meant to be here to help him feel less alone, then maybe it was okay to be here for awhile. I'd go back eventually, I was sure of it. And hopefully the real Ha-Na would take my place and her relationship with Chi could grow from there.

I smiled to myself as I fell asleep. Like a true gardener, I was planting the seeds that would grow into something real, someday. I might not be here to see it, but I would know that I did well.