“Forgive me, Mina,” Cheong says. “Will you let me talk a little bit? There are some things I’d like to say to you.”
“Yes, of course,” I quickly reassure her.
She nods, hesitating a moment more before finally speaking. “In my life, there are two women I respect the most. One is your grandmother. She is the strongest person I’ve ever met. She defended Joon and me when others berated us for choosing love over duty. I was chosen to be the Sea God’s bride, but she taught me that my life was my own, and no one else’s. She made me believe that I could have a life beyond the one that was expected of me, a life … that I wanted.”
Cheong stops fiddling with her skirt to take my hand. “The other woman I respect most in the world is you. When you took my place, I was filled with so many emotions. Relief. Gratitude. Guilt. And yet, that moment when you jumped onto the prow of the boat, I was filled with an emotion I’d never felt before: hope. You make me believe in wonders.”
I don’t know what to say, feeling both overwhelmed and incredibly honored.
“I’ve never had a sister,” she says softly. “I’m so glad that I have you now.”
“And I, you,” I whisper, swallowing thickly.
She reaches for the package she set aside and gracefully unties the silk knot of the ribbon. The cloth folds back to reveal a dress with a skirt the color of peach blossoms and a yellow jacket embroidered with small pink flowers.
I gasp. “It’s beautiful.”
“Do you like it? It’s a gift. From Lady Hyeri. She was going to bring it over herself, but I asked if I could be the bearer, and have a moment alone with you. May I?”
I nod, and she takes my arm to help me stand. Careful of my shoulder, she wraps the peach blossom skirt around my body, tying the string secure at my chest. She then holds the yellow jacket up for me, and I slide my arms into the sleeves. She moves behind me, and I feel the gentle tug of a comb as she sections out my hair and braids it in a long plait, securing it with a pink ribbon. Finally she turns me to face her. Taking the two ribbons at the front of my dress, she makes a knot, looping one ribbon and slipping the other through the hole. She adjusts the length until it falls elegantly across the front of my dress. Finished, she steps back to admire her work.
“It’s a lovely dress, Cheong,” I say. “But what is the occasion?”
“There’s to be a festival in the city tonight, to celebrate the ending of the storms.”
I remember Dai at my bedside. The storms have stopped. There’s a feeling in the air, as if they’ve stopped forever.
Could it be true? But what has changed? The last I saw the Sea God, he was in despair.
Cheong lifts her gaze, her eyes bright. “You must go. After all, there are rumors in the city. They say the Sea God’s storms stopped because of you.”
28
Walking with Namgi and Nari in the city later, I’m struck by the change in the atmosphere. The city is always brimming with warmth and light, but tonight, it’s as if the people have released their joy onto the streets. Acrobats jump and leap to the beat of barrel drums. Food cart sellers hand out sweet rice cakes and silk candy. The aftermath of the storm is visible in the broken rafters and missing beams, though cleaned and patched up in the last few days. I jump back as two young girls run by carrying a large barrel. One opens the lid to release hundreds of golden carp with bells tied to their fins. As the fish dart away, a chorus of chimes peals throughout the city.
Even delighted as I am by the sights and sounds, I can’t help feeling a little wistful. After Cheong left, I eagerly awaited Shin’s arrival, but as the sun sank behind the mountains, I lost hope that he would come. Not to let Cheong’s gift go to waste, I asked Nari and Namgi to take me into the city.
“Mina,” Nari says, arching a brow, “I believe you have an admirer.”
I look—perhaps too eagerly—over my shoulder. A small group of boys, around Dai’s age, gathers beneath the awning of a teashop. They throw furtive glances in our direction. One boy is pushed forward from the others. In his hands he holds a paper boat. “Lady,” he says, shyly approaching, “will you grant me a wish?”
“I’m not a goddess,” I tell him, though I gentle my words with a smile.
He brushes the hair back from his face, revealing mischievous eyes. “Please, lady. Only you can make my wish come true.”
I lift a brow, curious now. I take the boat and open it as Namgi leans over my shoulder to read the words the boy has scrawled across the paper. Namgi’s guffaw of laughter startles a passing school of fish that breaks around us like shooting stars.