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He stood, frozen, staring down at Sook Myeong.  Bent over in grief.  He’d seen her despair sliding down her face before.  But never this perfect storm of sorrow and longing. 

Could these tears be for him?

For the loss of his love?

“I love you, Sook Myeongie.”

She recalled his words.  So strongly that she would have sworn that they’d just been borne on the fresh zephyr stirring her long, midnight tresses in the garden of her childhood.  And of her first love.  Her first authentic love. 

Not Seon Woo.  But Jong Su.

The only man who had ever carried a genuine passion for her.

“I love you, Sook Myeongie.”

His tender words came to her again.  This time, a little louder.  Firmer.  Embodied by that beloved voice.  Whose strains were apparently even more strongly embedded in her memory than she would have guessed.

“I love you, Sook Myeongie, and nothing you will ever do could drive me away from you.”

This time, the words vibrated the air around her with such an intensity that she looked up.  And froze, stunned, as she gazed into the eyes which she loved the most in all the world.  Jong Su’s warm, cinnamon eyes.  Eyes that wrapped her in instant comfort.

She gaped up at him.  “I thought you had gone,” she murmured dumbly.

Then she flew off her bench.  Only to stop a scant few inches from him.  Suddenly, self-conscious.

“I heard you needed a shooting partner.”  He gestured towards her bow, which was hanging from his right shoulder now.  “I thought, perhaps, you’d like to practice on me.  I will stand right here.  Making it easy for you.”  A slow smile spread across his face.

“You’re hoping I’ll shoot you?” she queried in mock surprise.  As she recalled their very first encounter here.  In her garden.  Which had now become his too.

“Mmm.  I’d like to see you try.  But not succeed, of course,” he added with a rueful wince.  “I’m still recovering from my first wound, you know.”  He reached up to rub his shoulder.

She jumped forward then and grabbed for his hand before it could damage his wound.  “Don’t!  Don’t touch it!  Let it heal!”

He gazed down at her with such an aching tenderness in his eyes that she nearly burst into tears again.  “Dare I hope that these tears are for me?” he whispered as he lifted the hand of his injured arm to caress her cheek, removing a bead of moisture.

“What tears?” she echoed.

He quirked his eyebrows.  “Sook Myeongie, how can you weep yet be so unaware of it?  Your heart is clearly leaking its love for me, yet you still will not acknowledge it.”

She took a deep breath.  “That’s not true.”

“It’s not true that your heart adores me?” he frowned.

She ignored him.  “You cannot leave!  I won’t have you reinjuring yourself on your way home!”

His eyebrows flew north.  “On my way home?” he asked, confused.

She bobbed her head.  “You must stay, at least, until you’re fully recovered.”

“And then I’m free to head home?” he breathed.

He saw distress sail across her face.

“Without you?” he continued.

She dropped her gaze.

“I need your words,” he whispered.

“You cannot die.  Not on my watch,” she murmured.

“Why not, Sook Myeongie?  What do you care?” he questioned her gently.

She began to tremble.

“Did you think that I was leaving for Goguryeo today?”

“I thought you’d already left for Goguryeo today,” she corrected him, still staring at the ground.

“Ha.  No.”  His almost mocking voice startled her into glancing up at him.

“Then…where did you go?”

“To visit a local artisan.”

Confused, she frowned.  “I don’t understand.”

“I will explain.  But not until you tell me what’s hidden in your heart.  If you wish to never see me again…that can be arranged.”

She swallowed as she found herself trapped in that enigmatic, cinnamon gaze.

Her quaking intensified.

“Do you wish to never see me again, Sook Myeongie?”

She closed her eyes, and tears spilled over to trace her cheeks again as she considered a life lived without that gentle voice breathing, “Sook Myeongie,” into her ear.

“Please…” she begged him, “don’t leave me.”

His heart broke afresh for her.  And his tender smile deepened as he gazed down at her lovingly.  “Sook Myeongie, look at me.”

She opened her eyes and gazed up at him.  He couldn’t take it a moment longer.  His arm drew her close as he bent his head to brush his lips against that moist cheek.  Over and over again, he planted kisses in the damp soil of her countenance.  Tasting the tears of her heart’s loss.  He kissed that skin until he’d drunk of its sorrow.  The salt of her grief staining his own throat with her agony.

Then his lips skipped over her nose to minister to her other cheek, wiping it clean of its own misery.  In an attempt to give her a blank slate upon which to paint tomorrow’s joy.  Tenderly, he kissed that cheek.  Until no more traces of her suffering remained.

“I love you, Sook Myeongie,” he whispered against the corner of her mouth.

And she turned her head until his lips had claimed hers.  She reveled in their soft embrace.

“Do you like me…even just a little?” he murmured against those luscious lips.  Lips he had despaired of ever touching again.

“No,” she breathed. 

His heart stopped.

Then her mouth opened slightly, and she buried herself against his lips and loosed all the passion of her young heart upon him.  Drowning him in the sweetness of her mouth’s embrace.

He clung to her.  As she did to him.  Even his weakened arm itched to hold her close.

After several breathless moments during which her mouth wreaked its devastation upon his own, she drew back slightly and finally admitted, “Jong Su,” in a tender whisper, “I love you.”

Then she kissed him again with fervent ardor.  And his arm tightened about her waist, drawing her firmly up against him.

“Good,” he murmured against her lips.  “Then, hopefully, today’s trip was not wasted.”

“Trip?” she asked, distracted by the sweetness of his kiss.

His lips continued to devour her.  She found herself panting by the time he finally released her mouth.  But a moment later, she felt bereft as his arm left her.  He reached into the pocket of his robes and withdrew something.

She frowned as she watched him.  But a moment later, still cradling his secret possession within his palm, he closed all his fingers save one.  With that long pinky finger, he reached for her hand, grasping her own pinky, and tugged her softly towards her bench. 

“Please.  Sit,” he urged her quietly.

She instantly obeyed him.  Then she watched as he slowly bent, finally dropping delicately down onto his knees.

“Jong Su!” she rebuked him lightly, leaning forward to help him.

“No.  Stop,” he breathed, reaching out to halt her progress.  “Stay.” 

Now kneeling before her, he gazed up at her with such affection shining from his eyes that she felt her breath fly sharply away from her. 

“I love you, Sook Myeongie.”  He opened his hand, revealing what was hidden within.  Resting on his palm was a ring.  Carefully crafted from the finest gold. 

She reached for it, picking it up to examine it.  Its center was a golden heart.  But embedded within that heart was a silver arrow. 

“You caught me,” he breathed.  “With one flash of your beautiful eyes.  Your arrow met its mark.  Will you be my wife, Sook Myeongie?” he whispered sweetly.

Her gaze flew to meet his.  “It’s…beautiful.”

“I had it specially made…just for you.”

“Yes,” she whispered as she stared up into those cinnamon eyes. 

But she had been wrong.  They weren’t just warm…they were a roaring fire.  Blazing for her.

She nodded.  “I will…most delightedly…become your wife.”

He had, after all, tamed the passionate flames of her young heart.  And figured out how not to be burned by them.  But only warmed.

He beamed at her and reached down to retrieve the ring which he’d designed for her.  Then he slid it over her finger before leaning forward to embrace her once more.

In their garden.  The garden of their love.  Where a prince had met his mercenary.  And transformed her heart with the power of his love.