Page 11 of Gumiho Kiss (Realm of Eternal Blossoms #1)

The Nurse

C hin Sun dragged herself back to the Lee residence and over the courtyard wall, relieved when Mr. Park didn’t come bounding out of the shadows. She’d managed to sneak away while he was busy with the goblin, but she’d nearly passed out on the trek back to town.

Her arm seemed to have stopped bleeding on its own, but she could still feel liquid trickling from the wound in her side.

Never had she been more grateful for her healing abilities than she was tonight, for this was the closest she’d ever come to death.

She didn’t even have the energy to clean herself up and simply collapsed on her sleeping mat, still clad in her black hanbok.

Sleep embraced her like a long-lost friend, welcoming her into its blissful darkness, yet even as Chin Sun faded, a pang of awareness went through her. She’d lost something far more precious than blood tonight.

* * *

The monster’s cold sneer burned the back of Chin Sun’s eyelids, forcing her awake before her body was ready to comply. She shivered, almost as frightened now as she’d been in its presence. She tried to pull herself up into a sitting position, but a wave of pain sent her falling back to the floor.

She’d never encountered a goblin before, but the blue fire around it had been a dead giveaway.

They were shapeshifters like her, but they weren’t restricted in the forms they could take.

Legend claimed their true shape was horned and one-legged, but Chin Sun wondered how anyone could know that for sure.

What could it have wanted with her bead? She’d not heard of a goblin showing interest in one, and though her memories of last night were hazy, she was certain that had been the monster’s target.

Chin Sun pressed her hand to her stomach, the place where her bead resided, then let out a yelp.

Where there should have been an outflow of warmth and tranquility there was only emptiness. Panic blanketed her soul like fog spreading over the mountains. The goblin must have gotten it.

She had to stay calm. If she figured out where the goblin had taken it, she could make a plan to steal it back. She’d always been able to sense the bead before. Maybe she still could.

Though she wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing, she pictured the bead in her mind and then extended the image outward, beyond herself. At first, she felt nothing, not even a flicker of her fox power, but then—like a firefly in the dark—she sensed the bead.

But as soon as she found it, she also felt the energy it was absorbing. And she instinctively knew it was human.

What? That meant it wasn’t the goblin who had taken it. Who could have?

She pressed her fingers to her temple. Someone else had been there, someone who’d interrupted the goblin’s plan, but she couldn’t recall who.

Without her bead, Chin Sun couldn’t use her gumiho powers. Her strength, speed, heightened senses, and fox form were inaccessible.

But that meant she also couldn’t?—

Chin Sun pulled her hanbok away from her torso, sucking her teeth to hold back a cry.

She stared at the gaping wound in her side with horror.

She’d sustained stab wounds before, but her healing abilities had always lessened their impact.

Not so this time. It was a miracle she hadn’t bled out, but her undergarments were soaked. There was no way she could hide this.

Unless . . . She hadn’t wanted to do this before, but it seemed she had no choice now.

“Ah In,” she called, flinching at how much it hurt to speak.

Footsteps padded down the hallway. “Yeh, my lady?” came a voice from the other side of the screened door.

“Send for a nurse.”

“For your head, my lady?” The servant started to pull open the screened door.

“Please waste no time in calling for one,” Chin Sun replied a little too shrilly. Pain rolled through her body, but she had to keep it tamped down. Her survival depended on it. “I fear I shall faint if I don’t receive aid soon.”

Her words had the desired effect, for Ah In stepped away from the door to do as she’d been bidden. “I’ll go to the nearest clinic and?—”

“Actually, see if there’s one available at the police bureau. It’s much closer.”

Dead silence followed for several seconds until Ah In hesitantly inquired, “A damo, my lady? Are you certain?”

Damos were the lowest-ranking female nurses, sent to work for the police bureaus as punishment for receiving low grades in their schooling.

They handled the tasks men couldn’t perform, such as examining female corpses.

Confucianism decreed men were not to touch women who weren’t close relatives, even in death.

“I may be ill, but my judgment is still sound,” Chin Sun said, adding some bite to her tone. “Fetch one at once.”

When Ah In scurried off, Chin Sun anxiously counted the minutes until her return.

It was still early morning, which was a miracle in itself, but the day wouldn’t tarry for her sake.

If the damo didn’t show up soon, someone else would come to check on her, whether it was another servant or a family member.

She wished she could remove her soiled clothes, but moving too much could reopen her wounds, and she doubted she could handle losing any more blood.

“I’ve brought Hae Rim and a bowl of water in case you need it, my lady,” came Ah In’s voice.

Chin Sun made sure her clothes were completely covered by the sleeping mat before she uttered a soft, “Send her in.”

A young woman stepped into the room, head lowered, so Chin Sun couldn’t get a clear view of her face. She wore a white apron, and her hair was tied back with a long red ribbon. A small bag hung from her shoulder, and an oddly shaped ring rested on her forefinger.

Once the door was shut and it was just the two of them, Chin Sun pulled back the blanket. “Thank you for coming.”

“How may I assist you, agasshi?” The nurse finally raised her head, revealing a pretty face with round cheeks, but her genial countenance fell away at the sight of the blood, replaced by eyes as large as deep-fried honey cookies. A green pallor came over her skin like she was about to vomit.

Chin Sun’s lips thinned with irritation. This Hae Rim was supposed to be a nurse, and a damo at that. Surely she was familiar with sword wounds.

“I should think you’d know the answer to that.”

Chin Sun’s words jarred Hae Rim from her paralysis, the stunned look on her face disappearing behind a serious expression. “Let’s see what we’re working with, agasshi.”

For the next several minutes, the damo inspected, cleaned, stitched up, and bound Chin Sun’s wounds.

She also managed to get Chin Sun out of her ruined hanbok and into some clean clothes.

There were no broken ribs or signs of infection, but it was crucial that Chin Sun stay in the bed for several days; otherwise, she would slow down her recovery or perhaps even bleed to death.

Rest would be the best medicine, though Hae Rim did sprinkle some powdered herbs onto the injured areas to help with the healing process.

Chin Sun said little during her visit, not wanting the nurse to start asking questions about the cause of her injuries. But when Hae Rim stated that she was finished and needed to speak with the rest of the family, Chin Sun grabbed her wrist.

Something almost like disdain flickered in the damo’s eyes before she ducked her head in submission. “Is there something else?”

“What you’ve seen here does not travel beyond this room. Is that clear?”

“But, agasshi, your family needs to?—”

Chin Sun shook her head. “No one can know. I don’t care how much it costs to keep you quiet. You will not speak of this, or there will be consequences you won’t like.” She increased the pressure on the woman’s wrist.

The damo winced a bit but nodded. “I understand. If you’d rather it be a secret than let your family ease your suffering, I will keep my mouth shut.”

Chin Sun didn’t appreciate the jab, but she released her.

Hae Rim rubbed her wrist, then gathered her things. “But do you truly think this will stay quiet? I’m sure your servant has already told the rest of the household about my visit.”

Chin Sun’s lip curled back. She was liking this girl less and less. “I’ll handle that. Ask Ah In to pay you on your way out.”

“I’ll return tomorrow to change the dressings. Try not to move too much, or you may reopen your wounds.”

Hae Rim didn’t wait for a response before she bowed and departed, but as she stepped out of the screened doors, Sang Mi burst inside.

“Unni, what happened?” She dropped to the floor beside the mat, eyes red and face flushed. “Are you all right?”

Chin Sun patted her cousin’s hand. “I’ll be fine. The nurse gave me some medicine that should help, and she’s going to return tomorrow to check on me. In the meantime, she said I shouldn’t overwork myself.”

“You are very pale.” Sang Mi’s gaze was skeptical. “Was it truly just a headache?”

“It’s also the time of my monthly cycle, so it made everything worse.

” Chin Sun had thought up the lie while the nurse was here.

Although all the sullied clothes had been taken care of, there was still the possibility that Chin Sun might bleed through her dressings. Her monthly cycle was an easy excuse.

“Ah.” Sang Mi nodded in understanding.

“But since I need to be careful, that means you’ll have to take on more of the responsibilities for the household. Can you do that?”

The younger girl cringed before she lifted her mouth into a smile. “Of course, Unni. What would you like me to do?”

Chin Sun drummed her fingers against her blanket. Sang Mi hated anything even close to physical labor. Her idea of exertion was a stroll through town or a dance. Chin Sun was tempted to tell her something strenuous, like scrubbing the floors, but Sang Mi was just too pitiful.

Plus she didn’t want to hear Sang Mi complain about how the work ruined the orange bongsunghwa dye on her fingernails.

“The first thing you can do is go get your new book so we can read it together.”

“Really?” Sang Mi’s eyes lit up, then she stiffened. “But I thought you were angry with me.”

Chin Sun frowned. “Should I be? You never did tell me what happened yesterday.”

“Oh, that . . .” Sang Mi blushed and looked away. “You know Yong Ha down at the market?”

“The hat maker’s son? What about him?”

The younger girl started playing with her skirt. “Well . . . about a month ago, he asked if Father had received any requests for my hand.”

“What?” Chin Sun kept her voice from rising to a shout at the last instant, then grimaced apologetically. Yong Ha was a nice young man and, as far as she could tell, very respected among the merchants and commoners. Still, Uncle would never approve of such a match. “And how did you respond?”

Sang Mi looked up, searching Chin Sun’s gaze as though hunting for any trace of criticism.

Finding none, she mumbled, “I told him I hadn’t yet, but now that negotiations for your marriage were underway, I expected Father would start looking for a husband for me soon.

” She dropped her head again. “And that I hoped he would reach out.”

“Sang Mi-yah!” This time, Chin Sun couldn’t restrain herself. “However did you grow up to be so brazen?”

When her cousin crumpled like hanji paper, Chin Sun placed her fingers on Sang Mi’s cheek, drawing the girl’s eyes to hers. A soft smile spread over Chin Sun’s face. “If only we all were courageous enough to share our hearts like you do.”

Sang Mi’s eyes crinkled. “You really think so? That it was courage and not just me being stupid?”

Chin Sun nodded, then playfully tapped her nose. “Perhaps a bit of both.”

Sang Mi giggled, the sound as warm and refreshing as spring sunshine.

But all was not well—it couldn’t be when something had made this sweet, pure, sometimes foolish, girl cry. Chin Sun hated to ruin the moment, especially after the awful night she’d had, but she had to know. “That doesn’t explain why you were upset yesterday.”

Sang Mi’s shoulders fell. “Ah, yeh. Yong Ha sent me a letter.” She twisted her hands together, voice breaking. “He and his father were robbed. They’ve . . . lost everything.”

“Robbed? Do they know who did it?”

“Yeh, but the police are refusing to investigate him because he’s the chief’s nephew. It all sounds so hopeless, and now Yong Ha doesn’t feel like he can approach Father. He said—” Sang Mi sniffled, then rose to her feet. “I better go get that book.” She bowed and darted out.

Chin Sun’s muscles were tense, rage boiling in her stomach.

This was exactly why Gwishin was needed.

Sokju’s government was so crippled by nepotism and bribery that true justice felt like an impossible dream.

But even as a vigilante, she was only a dewdrop in a scorching desert.

If the common people were going to thrive, it was going to take a rainstorm.

She took a deep breath, reminding herself she couldn’t even help one thirsty soul while stuck in this state. She had to get her bead back first.

Who had that second figure been? Chin Sun’s head was pounding, but she forced herself to think back. A silhouette slowly came into focus. Black hanbok much like her own. Tall. A sword in his right hand. Wisps of hair framing a handsome, stubbled face?—

Chin Sun gasped as everything clicked into place. The sword fight, the chase through the woods, shifting into fox form.

And her rescuer.

Dread flooded her insides as her bodyguard’s face flashed through her mind. Of all people, why did it have to be Mr. Park? He was the worst person it could possibly be.

While not all of the humans’ beliefs about gumiho were correct, they had gotten some things right. And though Chin Sun hadn’t grown up among gumiho, she knew in her soul what she had to do.

The only way to retrieve a swallowed fox bead was with a kiss.