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A soft sniffle pierced the hushed stillness of Jae-min's bedroom as Yu-ra gently dabbed at the fresh scratches marring his cheek with a damp cloth.

"There, there little one," she murmured, keeping her tones low and soothing despite the grief welling in her throat. "It will be over soon, I promise."

Jae-min hiccuped wetly, luminous eyes swimming with a pain no child should ever have to experience as he blinked up at the weathered maid. "E-Eomma..." he whispered, the single plaintive utterance lancing straight into Yu-ra's heart. "When are we going to leave?"

Her gnarled hand stilled, rag hovering just below his trembling chin as their gazes locked - innocence pleading with conscience itself. Yu-ra steeled herself against the urge to gather the sweet boy into her arms, to fold him into the protective shelter of her embrace in defiance of his mother's cruel whims. Instead she simply offered a tight smile, resuming the tender ministrations against his abraded skin.

"Soon, dumpling," she vowed, voice cracking despite her best efforts. "Very soon now, my little one. You'll see..."

As much for her own benefit as Jae-min's reassurance, Yu-ra continued the litany of soothing murmurs and caresses as she bathed him and ushered the child into the safety of his bed.

Only once he'd been tucked beneath the coverlets and his shuddering breaths had finally evened out into the cadences of exhausted slumber did she allow the full force of her helpless fury to reassert itself.

Fists clenching in the fabric of her skirts, Yu-ra bit back a ragged snarl as she rose to her feet and turned towards the bedroom door - only to find the very source of her turmoil looming in the hallway beyond like a cursed miasma.

Soo-jin swayed on unsteady feet, one hand braced on the door frame as the other clutched a freshly poured glass of merlot. Her artfully styled updo had begun fraying at the edges, loose tendrils licking at her flushed cheekbones as she regarded Yu-ra and her son with glassy-eyed dispassion.

"He's...he's okay?" she slurred, the thin veneer of maternal concern undermined by the rote detachment in her gaze as it slid over Jae-min's sleeping form.

Yu-ra stiffened at the piteous display, refusing to show any outward reaction as she kept her features carefully schooled in implacable stoicism. Rather than deigning to respond, she brushed past her mistress and made to exit - only to have the woman's hand shoot out, fingers grasping in a parody of importuning desperation.

"Imo, please..." Soo-jin began, voice cracking as she seemed to rouse herself from her stupor. "It's been such a hard day, I'm asking if my baby is alright..."

Pivoting Yu-ra turned that same frigid mask towards the other woman, lips pressed into a bloodless line of sheer disgust as she drank in the sight of Soo-jin clinging to the disarrayed mummer of her former glories. After a protracted beat, she spoke - each syllable clipped and precise despite the venom simmering below the surface.

"The child is physically unharmed, Madam," she stated flatly. "Now if you'll excuse me..."

Soo-jin wilted visibly, disappointment and contrition warring on her features as her arm fell back to dangle bonelessly at her side. "I'm...I'm truly trying here, imo," she mumbled, suddenly sounding very small and very much like the little girl Yu-ra remembered from decades gone by. "You must understand how difficult all of this has been on me. I never intended to harm Jae-min, you know that..."

Yu-ra was quiet for a moment, weighing whether to even deign to acknowledge the other woman's attempt at explanation.

When she did finally muster a response, her voice emerged low and merciless - little more than an arctic rasp.

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