In the tumult, I motion the boy closer, leaning down to give him a kiss on the cheek.
He cups his hands reverently to his face; then, turning, he shouts to his friends, “Look! I got a kiss from the Sea God’s bride!” The boys whoop and holler. One by one, they press their lips to the boy’s cheek, as if to share my kiss between them.
Looking around, I notice that many people are staring at us, at me. One small girl even lifts her hand to point.
“Does this have anything to do with what Cheong said?” I ask Nari. “That there are rumors in the city that say the storms have stopped because of me?”
Nari nods. “The night of the storm, many of the city’s people saw you rush up the steps and through the gate of the Sea God’s palace. Less than an hour after you emerged, the winds and rain died down and a rainbow appeared.” Even Nari, who’s always calm and collected, has a hint of wonder in her voice. “Never has a rainbow appeared after a storm. There are rumors that it was also seen in the world above, a bridge between worlds. The people are taking it as a sign that the storms have ended for good and that the myth has finally come true.”
I try to make sense of her words. “And what of the Sea God?”
Namgi shakes his head. “The gate to the palace is closed. No one has seen him.”
Was it a coincidence that the storm stopped after I left the palace? An hour later was around the time I was attacked by the assassin and the Red String of Fate was cut. Lord Crane said I would know if I were the Sea God’s bride, as a Red String of Fate would form between the Sea God and myself. But just as it was when I woke, my hand is empty.
Cheers up ahead distract me from my thoughts. A crowd is gathered beneath a great tree. It grows out from the middle of the street, bright lanterns winking between the leaves of its massive canopy. From the largest branch of the tree dangles a swing. It’s built of two ropes with a plank of wood for a seat. A girl around my age stands on the seat, bending her knees to bring the swing up into the air. The crowd gasps, clapping and whistling as the girl swings higher and higher.
Namgi, Nari, and I join the others, lending our voices to the shouts and cheers.
Back and forth, the girl rises as her momentum grows. Soon, she’s reached a height where she’s almost horizontal with the ground.
As she swings back down, she takes one hand off the rope and waves to the crowd. I cheer the loudest as the girl slows the swing, jumping off with a flourish and bow.
Afterward, the girl approaches. “Would you like to give it a try?”
“I don’t know…”
“Don’t worry. If you fall, one of your guards will catch you.”
I look over my shoulder to see Namgi flirting with a boy in the crowd. But Nari, standing close by, nods in encouragement.
The girl drags me to the swing and helps me stand on the wooden plank. I curl my fists on each rope.
“Ready?” the girl asks.
“Should my knees be shaking?”
“Probably not. Here we go!” She runs, lifting me up, and I tighten my grip on the ropes.
“Bend your legs!” she shouts, letting go. “Move your body with the swing!”
I take several quick breaths, inhaling and exhaling. I’ve never been on a swing before, but I have played games at festivals, and this one is like all the rest—if you only trust yourself, it can be fun.
As the girl instructs, I bend my knees and move my body to the rhythm of the swing. Back and forth. The higher I rise, the more of the city I can see over the crowd. Children run down the many streets, trailing fish-shaped kites with golden streamers. Groups of individuals gather to play street games; others sit around storyteller stalls, listening raptly to the tales being unraveled. Strands of my braid come loose and flutter about my face. I close my eyes and feel the wind.
When I’ve finally exhausted the strength in my arms and legs, I slow the swing, bracing my body until it comes to a stop. The crowd cheers as I hop off the plank and help the next girl up.
As I move away, I’m caught by a sudden awareness. My heart catches in my chest. I turn toward the tree. Beneath its sweeping branches Shin waits. He’s dressed simply in dark blue robes, his hair falling across his brow. He looks like a young man out to enjoy himself at a festival rather than the lord of a great house.
At my approach, he steps forward to meet me.
I take in the dark circles beneath his eyes, his lips red against the pallor of his skin. “You look awful—when was the last time you slept?” At the same time, he says, “You look beautiful.”