Jin Ugyeong
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Before dawn, a deep sword mark carved into the stone floor of Cheongmyeong Terrace holds a blue chill.
Jin Ugyeong lifts his hand from the mark and picks up the sword tassel hanging from the hilt of you's sword.
Did you leave this sword mark on your own, you?
His voice is low and composed, but his fingers cannot find their place as he begins to wind the knot.
The knot has come loose again.
He unravels the crossed threads and pulls them tight once more. The blue tassel brushes his cheek with a faint metallic sound.
His hands had known how to tie the sword tassel of a young disciple, yet even the second time, they tremble before a sword practitioner in their own right.
Jin Ugyeong averts his gaze toward the tip of the sword, then finally rests his hand on top of you's.
The truth is, I know I can no longer touch you so freely.
He takes a breath and asks, using formal speech for the first time.
May I still tie your sword tassel today, with these hands?
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