Peaceful Days

"Don't mind the bills," Rox told me. "They're all free." He walked down to the storeroom before I could hold him back.

"You're all bound to be exhausted. Up there you may sleep," Rox's mother told us, starting to clear the table.

"You are too kind, miss," Ren stood up.

"Oh, no, I'm not," she smiled kindly.

"Let me do it," I said, grabbing plates.

"Thanks, honey," she murmured, her eyes scanning my bare chest before she exited into another room. "I'll get you some new clothes." She disappeared before I could object.

Ren and I rolled up our sleeves and began doing our work.

"I'm sleeping first," Iron said, her voice thick with sleep or the lingering effects of alcohol, and stumbled upstairs.

"She doesn't know how to get the work done. All she knows is to argue," Ren said curtly.

"I know," Rox chimed in, carrying bags of wheat to feed Renny.

We completed washing dishes and cleaning the inn.

"Good heavens. You didn't have to do all that," Rox's mother complained.

"We have to do what we can. We don't want to freeload," Ren answered obstinately.

"I do not mind that at all," she persisted.

"Thank you, miss," I said back to her as she handed me the attire. "What should we call you?"

"Phiona Van," she answered, extending a honey smile.

Ren, Rox, and I drank, laughed, and chatted until late at night when the liquor ultimately overpowered us.

"Wake up, Han!" Rox's voice jolted me out of my daze as he patted my shoulder. "Customers are going to arrive a while. I never told you we operate the inn as a restaurant too." He went back to scrubbing.

"I need more sleep," Ren grumbled, stumbling back upstairs. I wished him good luck in locating his daughter. I prayed quietly, too aware of the pain of losing something you cherish.

I walked, my eyes heavy, and I lurched up to get some extra sleep.
Blinking crudely, I flung open a door.

"Pervert!" Iron shouted. A shower cup soared through the room with lethal precision, landing on my head with a crack.

"Ouch!" I shut the door behind me.
"Sorry!"

The shock jolted me awake completely, drowsiness vanishing as if it had never existed. My body was on high alert, all tuned in. "Guess I don't need sleep after all," I snarled, heading back down to the ground floor.

"Miss Phiona," I shouted to Rox's mother. "I'm going out for a walk," I said as I left the inn.

The contrast was horrid. Where nothing and quiet had dominated the previous night, peace and life held sway now. Children were giggling in the streets, market stalls bellowed at the top voices, and bird song trilled. "It would be nicer if Seoul were so," I panted, the words dissolving unheard on the fresh air.

"This town stinks of rubbish," the Mark snarled inside my head.

"Does it smell the way it did to the knights last night?" I asked, although I already knew.

"Why ask when you know the answer?" growled Mark crossly, still obviously angry at not being invited to play that night's festivities.

I arrived at the center of the town. Beside it stood a new stage. Glittering shreds of oratory drifted to me:

"A pope from the Light Church is coming tomorrow afternoon."
"Aye. They'd best run out the 'Evil Spirits' here."
"Since they started haunting us, we've never slept well at night."
"Nagging ghosts, sure enough."

A pope? Evil spirits? The subject was the buzz on every corner. I turned down an alley.

"Thief!" A high-pitched shriek from a crone cut through the air. A man ran toward me, holding a gold pouch.

Striding away from him, I punched him in the belly with a fist and followed it up with a punch to the chin. A well-placed kick made his knees buckle, and he fell to the ground. I pulled out the pouch and forced it into the woman's hands before she could utter thanks in a stammering speech, and turned and ran, feet suspended above the earth.

I pushed open the door at the inn.

"Enjoying a kick, daydreaming about my body naked?"
Iron collapsed into a chair, crossed legs. She fluttered over to me and tugged on my ear. "Pervert!"
"Ow! Oww!" I pretended.
"Where's Ren?"

"Still sleeping," Rox said as a armload of clothes was being carried towards the bathroom.
"You get your money's worth," I said to him.
"No, I don't," he laughed.
"Will you remind Ren that we will be in the rice paddy when he wakes up?" I asked.
"Yeah, sure."

I took Iron's hand to exit, but Miss Phiona stood in our way.
"Take this," she said, stuffing a pouch into my hand. "This old lady won't live long enough to squander it all." She winked. Twenty gold pieces filled the pouch uncomfortably. "Make the lady happy."

"I will," I told her, solemnly and with a flicker of possessiveness in my gaze.
"You remind me of my very old memories," she said, softly, “And you... don’t hide your feelings. Let them express,” she said to Iron.

"Don't mind the bills," Rox said, already on his way to the storeroom. "Everything's on the house." He disappeared before I could grab him.

"You all must be tired," Rox's mother said, taking plates from the table. "Go on up and get some rest."

"You're too generous, miss," Ren rose from his seat.

"Oh, I'm not," she protested with a friendly smile.

"Let me help," I offered, picking up dishes.

"Thanks, sweetheart," she breathed, her gaze flicking across my bare chest before she retreated to another room. "I'll get you some clean clothes." She was gone before I could even speak.

Ren and I rolled up our sleeves and got to work.

"I'm sleeping first," Iron announced, her speech slurred with sleep or leftover booze, and staggered toward the stairs.

"That girl wouldn't know a chore if she bit one," Ren said with a wry smile. "All she knows how to do is bicker."

"Agreed," Rox added, shouldering a sack of wheat into Renny's stall.

We finally got the dishes washed and the main room of the inn cleaned.

"My goodness! You didn't have to do all that," Rox's mother grumbled when she returned.

"We do what we can," Ren protested. "We're not freeloaders."

"I don't mind a bit," she said airily.

"Thank you, miss," I replied, taking the clothes bundle from her. "What shall we call you?"

"Phiona Van," she smiled, as sweet as honey.

Ren, Rox, and I drank, exchanged tales, and laughed deep into the night until the drinks eventually overcame us.

"Wake up, Han!" Rox's voice cut through my haze as he elbowed my shoulder. Customers will arrive soon. Forgot to inform you—we have a restaurant here as well." He scurried back to wiping tables.

"Need. More sleep," Ren groaned, stumbling back upstairs. I hope he has recovered his daughter already. The old ache of loss echoed within me, and I made a silent prayer.

Lead-eyed, I made my way upstairs in search of oblivion. Blearily, I blinked, pushing a door open.

"Pervert!" Iron screamed. A soap dish zoomed with deadly accuracy and smashed into my forehead.

"Ow!" I closed the door behind me. "Sorry!"

The shock awakened me completely, fatigue vanishing in a second. My body buzzed with wakeful energy. "Guess I don't need sleep after all," I growled, heading back downstairs.

"Miss Phiona," I bellowed. "Walking." I came in the morning.

It was dizzying. Where evil silence had reigned last evening, life now pulsed on the streets. Children chased through the stalls, vendors called out wares, and birdsong blended with the joyful din. "Seoul could use this," I whispered, the words away on the busy air.

"This town reeks of filth," the Mark growled in my mind.

"Same scent as the knight's last evening?" I inquired, already knowing the answer.

"Why ask what you know?" it retorted back, clearly still sulking at having been excluded.

I reached the center fountain. A new stage had recently been built. Snatches of conversation drifted over:

"A Light Church pope is visiting tomorrow afternoon."
"They'd better exorcise those 'Evil Spirits'."
"Have not slept full-time since the hauntings started."
"Nagging ghosts, I swear."

A pope? Demons? The subjects grumbled at each street corner. I took an alley.

"Thief!" A cry from an old crone pierced the air. A man came running toward me, clutching a pouch of gold.

As he passed by me, I punched a fist into his stomach. An elbow slammed into his chin and cracked it back. A kick made his knees fold, and he collapsed. I took the pouch, jammed it into the woman's trembling hands before she could stammer out thanks, and sprinted back to the inn, my feet barely touching cobblestones.

I charged through the inn door.

"Having fun? Daydreaming about me naked?"
Iron reclined in a chair, crossing his legs. She leapt up, clutched my ear, and yanked. "Pervert!"
"Ow! Oww!" I acted hurt. "Where's Ren?"
"Still sawing logs," Rox said, shoving an armful of linens into the bathroom.
"Keeping busy," I told her.
He laughed. "Not really."
"Tell Ren we'll be in the rice fields when he wakes?"
"Will do."

I extended Iron's hand to lead him away, but Miss Phiona stood in our way.
"Take it," she said, pushing a heavy pouch into my hand. Twenty gold pieces. "This old woman will not live long enough to waste it all. Make the lady happy." She winked.

"I will," I vowed, honesty—and a flash of something primal—in my eyes.

"You remember old memories," she breathed, then turned to Iron, her eyes knowing. "And you… Do not conceal your heart. Reveal it."

We stepped into the busy market street.
"We should thank her properly," Iron said to himself, bending close. I shifted to one side with a smile. She stumbled, and I caught her arm to prevent her from falling.
"You motherf—" She restrained the curse, face reddening.
"Aunt Phiona said never to curse at your boyfriend," she quoted, eyeing my new black tunic. "And holds hands during dates. You look… acceptable in black." She tried to hug me; I held her head firmly at arm's length.
"Trying to get me to swear, are you?" She punched my bicep.
"More like you now," I laughed, mussing her hair.
She flushed and kicked my shin sharply. I dodged the kick with ease.
"Go ahead out to the field first," I instructed.
"Why must I? Pervert," she snapped.
"Quit saying that word." I rubbed at my face, exhaling.
"Pervert. Per-vert," she warbled, ducking away from my swipe.
I tapped at her forehead.
"Ow!" Her eyes watered theatrically, though it couldn't have hurt very much.

"You two are pathetic," Mark sneered.
"And you're getting soft," I countered.
Silence retorted.

"Who were you speaking to?" Iron demanded, jerking my face towards hers.
"To your cheeks," I teased, pinching one.
"You want to taste my fist?!" She swatted the back of my head and snapped her playful, pinching fingers.

We came to the familiar jewelry stand.
"How much for the locket?" Iron asked, her voice naturally needle-tipped, a holdover from her days of haggling as aristocracy.
"Twelve silver cres—" the vendor began.
Iron threw down a gold coin and snatched up the locket before he could go on.
I stared, taken aback for a moment.
"Thought you'd haggle," I stuttered.
"Why go to the trouble?" She tugged out one strand of her hair, coiled it up agonizingly inside the locket, and placed it into my hand. "Now yours."
She had gotten faster than I at extracting strands of hair from our respective scalps before placing them into the locket that was still clutched in my hand.
"Now return it."
"Here." I handed it over into her awaiting hand.
"Hold it with both hands," she ordered. When I caught the locket, she slapped my forehead with unwarranted vigor.
"Even."