“Yes, but for an important difference.”
When the goddess doesn’t immediately continue, Kirin prompts, “And what difference is that?”
“As you can see, or not see, the fate is invisible, as it isn’t with the Sea God. Although every Sea God’s bride that arrives in this realm has a Red String of Fate, the Sea God is not fated to all of them. After all, that is not the true purpose of the Red String of Fate.”
I have a suspicion that the goddess takes pleasure in withholding information until the right question is asked.
“Then what is the purpose of the Red String of Fate?” Namgi says through gritted teeth.
The fox tilts her head to the side, amber eyes glinting. “It ties soul mates to each other.”
“Soul … mates,” Kirin says slowly.
“Yes. It ties one soul to another, two halves of a whole.”
For some reason I’m surprised to hear this explanation from the goddess, though this is how humans tell the myth, when the destinies of two people collide in life-altering ways. It explains the undeniable connection between lovers—like Cheong and Joon, who loved each other from the beginning.
“It’s not possible,” Shin says, and his words jog a memory. He said something similar when the Red String of Fate first formed between us.
My grandmother always said only the words I believe in are the ones that can hurt me. And yet, Kirin stares at me in disbelief, and even Namgi looks skeptical. As for Shin, he rubs his fingers against his wrist, as if the ribbon pains him.
I won’t say the qualities he lacks that would make it impossible for me to love him, either: a caring heart, looking at me not as a burden or a weakness, but as a strength.
“I didn’t ask to be fated to you,” I say. “I don’t want your life to be in danger because of me. I didn’t know what would happen when I released my soul from the cage—I just wanted it back.”
“Mina, you don’t understand.”
“Then tell me. What is it I don’t understand?”
“We can’t be soul mates…，” Shin says. His dark eyes lift, holding mine. “Because I don’t have a soul.”
12
How can Shin not have a soul?
The question plagues me all the way to Lotus House. Upon our arrival, I’m whisked away by a group of maidservants to a large bathing chamber where I’m unceremoniously stripped down, doused with hot water, and scrubbed until my skin is raw and red. Too exhausted to protest, I relax as the women trim and buff my nails and smooth rich oils along my arms and legs. The only time I speak is when I catch sight of one of the maidservants leaving the chamber with my battered dress. “My knife!” I exclaim. The maidservant returns and places it on a low shelf within reach.
They call me “Lady Mina” and “Shin’s bride,” guiding me from the salt baths across the warm, heady chamber to dip my toes into the cool stream that runs through the north side. Their chatter is filled with excitement and wonder, their words pattering around me like summer rain.
“She’s so young to be a bride, barely sixteen!”
“How romantic, don’t you think? That Lord Shin should fall for her in one night.”
“What do you think captivated him so?”
“Her bright face!”
“Her nimble body.”
“Her thick hair. It really is lovely.” A warm set of hands massages my scalp, while another slips perfumed fingers through my hair, the scents of lavender and hibiscus washing over me. Finally I’m left alone to soak in the central bath of the chamber, steam curling up around me in pleasant, lazy swirls.
My thoughts drift to just an hour earlier. What did Shin mean when he said he didn’t have a soul? He spoke as if stating an undeniable truth. And neither Kirin nor Namgi contradicted him. But I was taught that everything has a soul, from the emperor to the lowliest of humans, from the birds to the rocks in the stream.
I lift my arm, and water spills from my hand, as does the Red String of Fate, slipping across the chamber to disappear through the far wall. I wonder where Shin is now. He received a missive and left on another boat with Kirin, while Namgi took me back to the house. Slowly, the Red String of Fate begins to shift across the room in a diagonal motion. He must be on the move.
“Lady Mina?” The maidservants have returned. They help me out of the water, placing a warm cup of barley tea into my hands to sip while one sweeps a turtle shell comb through my hair. I’m then garbed in a light summer dress with a pale blue skirt and white jacket, the sleeves embroidered with pink flowers. It even has a pocket for my knife. Afterward, we leave the main building of Lotus House and walk across the same open field I traveled with Shin and Namgi earlier.