“Something’s off.” Hwayeong’s expression darkened as she quickened her pace.
Sohwa fell into step beside her without hesitation.
“Still, Milady... would he really pretend to be injured after coming all this way to the capital?”
“...Hwaan just might.”
‘Hwaan and I are cut from the same cloth. Am I wrong?’
Hwayeong clasped her hands behind her back and walked ahead, head slightly lowered in thought.
“With all due respect, Milady, I don’t believe that’s very likely.”
Sohwa gave a soft smile, her voice warm and gentle.
“No, really—think about it. He once fell off a roof and didn’t even get a scratch. And now he’s sprained his ankle just stepping off a horse?”
That was true, and the memory began to resurface for Sohwa.
“...If I may ask, Milady—why were you on the roof that night?”
“There were fireworks that night. Father wouldn’t let us go out.”
So, naturally, the roof had seemed like the perfect alternative.
