Chapter Text
It was either a terrible habit to have developed or a perfect one, depending on one's point of view, but either way, since all this had begun, Seobi hadn't once slept through the night. The slightest noise could bring her from the depths of a dream to full wakefulness in an instant, heart pounding in her chest, senses hard at work to determine the sound's source. Had it been the threatening growl of a monster or the snuffling noises of some nocturnal forager? The difference between those could be the difference between life and death.
Tonight it had been neither. She heard it again -- a familiar voice, a man's voice, speaking low enough that his words lost all meaning by the time they reached her ears. His tone was gentle and calm, giving no indication anything was amiss. A second later came an equally familiar and equally incomprehensible response, a rumble of sounds deepened by the need for late-night hush.
Almost a full year now, it had been since they'd met, and not too much shorter of a time since they'd passed together out of the palace gates and onto the rolls of the official dead. Sometimes others in the know accompanied them, especially the nearer they came to cities and settlements, but when they left the lights of villages and the well-worn paths between them, they were almost always a trio alone. The prince -- no, just plain Chang now, and she'd had to work so hard to aid his disguise with her words -- decided where they would go next, and Yeongshin led them there, and she followed along, keeping up as best she could.
Sometimes she wondered if they resented having to slow down and proceed with caution for her, eager to help but unable to fend for herself in the way of trained soldiers and swordsmen. They never said anything to that end, though, and she did not press.
"Is everything all right?" she asked, sitting up slightly. She blinked hard, clearing her eyes against the darkness, the space around them lit only by the slivers of moonlight that peeked in through the gaps in the shabby roof. The moon shone alone in the high clear sky, full and ominous. The nights were cold now, and they all knew what cold meant.
"Shit," swore someone who could only have been Yeongshin, as she didn't think the prince -- that Chang -- had ever thought such a coarse word in all his life. Yeongshin's had been the first voice, the one that had dragged her up from sleep. "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."
"It's fine." Seobi ran a hand over her hair, smoothing the loose strands back from her face. "It's almost dawn, isn't it?" she asked, even though it was difficult to tell from where they were, which was the windowless loft of an otherwise empty barn. They'd handed the owner a few coins to let them stay there for a while, and he hadn't asked too many questions. Coins were good for that.
"Not by half," Yeongshin said with a wry little chuckle. He was sitting up again, leaning back against a support beam just by the pile of hay where Chang had bedded down. Yeongshin slept like that most of the time, perched and attentive, his gun within easy reach. It was strange to think that she, a lowly female country physician, might be developing the instincts of a tiger-hunter, but many things were strange these days.
Chang made an expression Seobi could hear more than see, a kind smile. He had such a kind face. She'd been shocked at first to learn it belonged to royalty. "Get some more sleep," he told her, not an order but gentle guidance.
Seobi nodded. "You too," she said, even though she had no illusions that either of them would even try. When was the last time any of them had slept well, or for more than a few hours caught in lucky snatches? Certainly not since the weather had started to turn and the first nips of frost had begun to creep into the ever-longer nights.
The rest of that long, bloody winter had been hellish. At least she hadn't had to deal with the mess the monsters had made of the palace grounds, though the countryside hadn't been much better. The long nights of managing the infected at barricades, luring them away from vulnerable innocents, and maintaining supply lines despite the dangers had taken their toll on Chang and Yeongshin alike, leaving Seobi upset that she could contribute nothing to the ongoing defense of the people. She had thrown herself into her own work, patching bodies while the sun was up, then spending every night in her makeshift laboratory, burning every candle she could find and studying the worms until she collapsed from sheer exhaustion.
Then the spring had come, and they'd slowly reclaimed the daylight hours. The burning funeral pyres had filled the air with a choking scent that was nonetheless reassuring, promising with each waft of sickening, acrid smoke that there would be one fewer monster out there in the dark. Chang had organized groups to venture out during the warmest parts of the midday to find and dispatch any dormant corpses they could. They'd fought over that, he and Yeongshin, nearly coming to blows; Chang had wanted to lead one of the groups himself, and Yeongshin had threatened to shoot him in his fancy little foot if he took one step outside the citadel walls. It was the kind of threat that was only funny in retrospect.
Summer had followed, sweetly hot. Seobi had thanked Chang and told him she'd be leaving now, off to learn what she could about the resurrection plant and its effects on its unlucky victims. Chang had listened to her plan and nodded his understanding, then asked when they would be departing. Not her. They. Then Yeongshin had spoken up from where he'd been eavesdropping shamelessly and said they'd better not be thinking of leaving him behind, because he'd just track them down again by lunchtime anyway, and that had been that. On the longest day of the year, the three of them had set out together on foot, leaving the safety of numbers behind them.
But it was fully autumn now, and the colder the nights got, the harder it was to think about anything but what was surely to come. They'd done so much work during the warm months, but would it be enough? Only time would tell, time and winter.
Drawing her blanket over her, she burrowed down into her own little nest of long-dried hay, wincing a little as strands poked her legs and back through her heavy traveling clothes. She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of her own breathing. It was going to be no use, though, she knew that already. Sleep could be for her a skittish bird, caught once but only once a night, and once flown away, gone for good.
She was nowhere near dozing off again when she heard Chang's soft voice: "We'll take the north ridge route. If we can make it before the ground freezes--"
"No." Yeongshin's voice was gentle but firm. "I've spent a lot of winters rough. We could burn every infected body in the kingdom, and it'd still be dangerous as hell. There's a settlement there at the delta, not far inland. We'll winter there."
"She's going to be disappointed--"
"She or you?" Yeongshin countered.
When Chang didn't respond, Seobi knew Yeongshin's aim with his words had been as true as his gun ever was. She'd felt bad about having underestimated him at their first meeting, until she'd realized that had been his plan all along. Just a wounded veteran, a hopeless drunk, a simpleton who couldn't even write his own name; not worth the effort of starting a fight. Enough to laugh at and then dismiss. Safe beneath everyone's consideration.
After a moment, Yeongshin sighed quietly. "You have to hunt a tiger on its own terms. You rush it, and suddenly, it's hunting you. I know it feels like shit to wait. I know it does. But if we're going to do this right, you've got to let me take care of you. The both of you."
Chang settled into his own hay bed with a disgruntled little grunt. He said something then that Seobi couldn't quiet make out, muttered as it was.
"Oh, fuck you," Yeongshin whispered in reply, but Seobi could tell he was laughing quietly as he said it. "Your Highness can go fuck himself eight ways to sunrise."
The soft chuckling sounds from Chang were strange to Seobi, who couldn't imagine responding to any such rough language with amusement, especially not if she'd been its target. She couldn't tell which words they exchanged would put them at one another's throats and which ones were meant as signs of friendship. This had clearly been the latter, based on Chang's reaction, but how was anyone to know such a thing? She supposed she should simply be grateful that they hadn't seen fit to turn such language on her. They'd be lucky if she didn't stab them.
They said nothing again for the rest of the night, but Seobi could still hear them, the rustling sounds they made as they shifted their bodies, the soft sounds of heavy breathing become gentle snoring as at least one of them fell asleep. She found the noises comforting, little reminders that she wasn't alone. She lay there with her rough blanket drawn up to her chin, faking sleep as she waited for the dark night sky to shade into the pale blue of morning.