Vivid | Lee Minho

•Scene 8•

Your life seemed to shift to mundaneness after the events of the festival. The month that followed was slow and uneventful, with you resuming your work on the new register scheme untroubled by the Prince or his lackeys. It appeared that Minho's threats worked miracles.

You only had to prepare for the final act of your plan—three months far.

On this afternoon, you were visiting Chaeryeong's temporary school as you often did to run your evaluations and collect data about the students' progress. Your visits were met with excitement from the children, who were beginning to warm up to you, and the teaching staff, who were eager to show off their work—with Chaeryeong usually at their forefront.

She took pride in her work, that much was clear as she told you of the week's schedule. There were lesson plans, student projects, and more that she was developing alongside the two other teachers you had assigned. You were pleased, so far, with the results you were seeing.

And the public seemed to share your opinion.

"My lady."

Seungmin walked up to you once you stepped out of the school, bowing as he informed, "There is a man that wishes to speak with you. Should I bring him in?"

"Please do," you answered him kindly. It had become a regular occurrence for the city folk to approach you during your visits and express their gratitude or share their grievances in hopes of you fixing them or bringing them to Minho's attention.

You appreciated their trust in you, for you knew how difficult their lives were. After all, this was one of the few, rare lifetimes in which you were reborn a privileged citizen. If there was one thing you wanted to leave behind, it would be to better the lives of those who populated your cities and villages.

You were conversing with Chaeryeong when a middle-aged man's gravelly voice sounded somewhere behind you.

"My humblest greetings to you, Lady Valorieve."

You turned around to be met with the owner of the voice, folded in a deep bow and flanked by two of your guards. At once, you returned his greeting, "And to you as well. Please, rise."

He did.

And you nearly staggered backward.

"Thank you, my lady," he said, gripping in his hands a washed-out cap and a scroll of paper.

He would have been twice your current age. Worn by age and hardship, yet you could still recognize his familiar face. Roughness had lined his sharp features and scratched his voice. His hair, which you remembered to be as soft as spun silk and as dark as a moonless night, had become heavily streaked with silver. Though, he still wore it as he had always done—tied at the base of his neck and long enough to make the ladies in town envious.

Your thoughts were a riot.

What was he doing here?

"My name is Yang Jeongin, and I hail from a small town by the southern border of Valorieve," he introduced himself as though it was information you did not know.

What could have brought him all the way to the capital?

You had taken great care in avoiding the places of your past, so why was he here to meet you specifically?

"What is it that made you seek me, Mister Yang?" you managed a polite smile. Your voice felt as though it were coming from somewhere distant.

"There is word around town that your ladyship grants an audience to us common folk, so I have come here in hopes that you would listen to my story and seek justice for us," he said, tightening his clutch on his cap. His shoulders were squared with determination, while all your body wanted to do was retreat.