“Perhaps. Or another significant location in the mansion.”
“What kind of location?”
I studied my reflection in the dirtied copper mirror. My face stared back, hazy and pale. “Somewhere she could be alone and at peace.”
Ren pressed his lips together. “Do you think she had a reason for murdering the Jing clan?”
“Of course she had a reason,” I said. “But whatever it was, it doesn’t justify a mass killing.”
“I can’t tell if you sympathize with or disapprove of this spirit.”
“No?” I frowned at the combs and pins strewn across the table, exquisitely useless to their lost mistress. “The answer is both. However, the dead don’t care for sympathy. What they need is relief.”
Ren was silent for a moment. When I looked up, I found him watching me curiously. Like an itch, I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “What?”
He shook his head. “I assumed you saw the dead as merely a job to be taken care of, not as people worthy of consideration.”
Though he said it without judgment, my chest panged at the implication of his words. My father had expressed similar thoughts not too long ago.The dead we serve should be seen as sacred, not as products to be exploited,he’d said. I knew this, but I also knew the risks of allowing my heart to grow too close to the people I helped. Why walk such a line when it was safer to avoid it entirely?
And yet the more time I spent with Ren and evil spirits, the less careful I was about following my own rules.
At my silence, Ren quickly added, “I’m not criticizing you, Mistress Kang. Forgive me if I’ve offended. I’m merely admiring the warmth behind your usual cold facade.”
The ease with which he offered a heartfelt compliment caught me off guard.
“How do you know it’s a facade?” I folded my arms. “Perhaps I’m just cruel.”
He smiled crookedly. “I revoke my earlier comment. Youaredishonest.”
“What does that mean?”
But he was stepping back onto the pathway outside, clearly uninterested in elaborating. I hurried after him, annoyed.
“Where in this mansion do you think Yuyan would seek solitude?” he asked as we walked in the direction of the eastern wing.
“Are you assuming I’d know because I’m a woman?”
“I assume you’d know because of your empathetic capabilities.”
I glanced at him sideways. A part of me wanted to nurse my irritation toward him, if only to distract myself from the unease permeating the mansion. But it was difficult to do when he spoke so honestly—and kindly. Which was a distraction all its own.
I cleared my throat. “In a mansion inhabited by a high-class family and their many servants, the only place Yuyan could rest undisturbed would be a private courtyard.”
“That makes sense. My mother had one in the royal palace, with a small pond and a garden. She’d embroider there by daylight and drink tea while viewing the moon. No one, not even her handmaidens, could enter without her permission.” Ren added mischievously, “Although she was never cross with me when I snuck in.”
“You must’ve loved her very much,” I said. How awful he must feel to know she’d been murdered.
“I did.” He spoke comfortably, which prompted me to relax too. This was the first time I’d spoken to a surviving family member without feeling the need to comfort or apologize for something I’d had no hand in.
“Since you’re familiar with the layout of upper-class residences,” I said, “why don’t you take the lead?”
His eyes widened in feigned shock. “You, of all people, would give me such power?”
I raised an eyebrow. “I can rescind my offer, if you prefer.”
“Let’s not be hasty.” He laughed, the sound as startling as a sunrise, and swept out his arm. “This way, esteemed mistress.”
We explored the bedrooms housed in the east wing, weaving in and out of each chamber until we came across one in which we both shivered upon entering. All traces of humor drained from Ren’s face as he led us through the suite to an enclosed courtyard in the back.
