The Kinsman: A Sequel to Hwarang: The Saga of the Sooks Book #5

Chapter 5: Pining for Comfort

Dan Se stared at the brilliant woman. Shocked into silence by her candor.

What would Han Sung say?

Han Sung would tell him to choose the path that would make him happy. The problem was – now that Han Sung was gone – no such path existed any longer. If it ever had.

Every way that Dan Se turned, misery confronted him. But truthfully, misery had always confronted him. His grandfather had seen to that. And, despite now being dead himself, that old man seemed to still be seeing to his unfavored grandson's misery.

Dan Se's whole existence before had revolved around making his brother stronger. And defending him from their grandfather's cruelty. What was the purpose of his life if Han Sung wasn't here to protect anymore?

So Dan Se raised sad eyes to meet her sharp ones.

"Han Sung never dwelt in the realm that I inhabit."

"What realm is that?" she asked.

"Reality."

"Thank God for it!" she gasped, instantly shocking him. "Reality stinks."

Stunned, his eyes widening, he simply stared at her.

But she continued to speak after a silent second had passed. "That was what I adored about your brother. His ability to lift me out of the miry clay. He always managed to elevate my vision. To give me eyes to see life as it should be lived. Instead of as one trapped in the mud. Only seeing the filth of our prison. Han Sung made me believe I could fly."

Dismayed, he felt tears rising to the surface again. "I do not wish to speak of my brother any longer."

"Well, you may not wish it, but I believe that Han Sung would still wish to be spoken of. If for no other reason than to see your heart flushed of all its pain. How are you to heal if you never confront the source of the wound?"

This woman was too plainspoken.

Dan Se sighed. "I fail to see what speaking of Han Sung any longer will accomplish."

"It will accomplish allowing you to process the pain of your past. And to ponder what the future without him can look like."

"Thank you, but I am well aware of what my future looks like without him."

"And what is that?" she finally queried after a full minute of silence during which she waited patiently for him to elucidate.

Then he finally did. In one word.

"Bleak."

"Ah. But isn't that just pitiful? That is not at all what Han Sung would have desired for you, oppa."

"Please," he cradled his forehead between his fingers and his thumb, "don't call me oppa. It implies a relationship where we have none."

"On the contrary. I am showing you an affectionate respect. Based upon the relationship we are about to enjoy. Shall I call you husband instead?"

Another deep sigh. This woman was truly trying his patience.

"Why on earth would you desire to marry a sad sack like me?" he muttered indifferently.

"Because you are my best hope for a happy marriage. You are also a sure ticket out of this hellish household," she whispered the last few words.

And his ears perked up. "Pardon?"

"Let's just say that your grandfather and my father were cut from the exact same cloth."

As he stared at her quizzically, she stepped forward and gently reached up to brush her fingers tenderly across his cheek. As she envisioned those bruises of so many years ago. She felt certain that many of their kind had followed. Though they had gone unwitnessed by her.