#hyewa

"What, Mistress?" She is, after all, very busy. She knows she's going to fail the quiz by day's end, like she's done for the past week, but she refuses to stop trying just because of that. The whole thing does make her very grumpy, though, and Dohwa's mood isn't helped every time she catches sight of her pendant on the end of Hyewon's fan. She still hasn't figured out a way to liberate it without Mistress or Yunwoo unnie noticing, but... she's determined.

"Come over here. We'll have another hands on lesson to remedy your abysmal abilities." Mistress smiles, sharp and definitely mocking, and Dohwa stands up as reluctant as she's annoyed. She's just doing this to piss her off and make her uncomfortable, she knows she is. But with her pendant in Hyewon's possession, even knowing her and Yoosun's secret won't save her from that. That's why she's here at all, after all.

She stomps around the table and crosses her arms over her chest, then, after Hyewon looks her up and down as she stands up, eyebrow arching up again, she unwinds her arms, fists her hands in her skirts instead, and scowls.

"Now," Hyewon says, a now-familiar mocking little smile on her face as she comes around the desk, nearly swaggering as she walks, "this isn't a game most noblewomen would play with any random kisaeng, but you should know of it, even so."

Dohwa has a bad feeling about this. Especially so since Hyewon carried the knife with her, and she hefts it now, delicate but deadly, level against Dohwa's chest.

"Wh--- Mistress, what are you doin---!?" The tip of the knife has barely brushed the front of her jeogori when Dohwa flinches, then twitches back with a wide-eyed scowl and snapping her hand up to cover her nose, which Hyewon just flicked. The unimpressed look on her face only barely covers the superior, smug amusement.

"That was one."

"One what!" She has no idea what's going on, or why the knife, but angry resentment burns low in her gut, turns the watery fear into sharp-chinned outrage as she raises her head again.

"One piece of clothing," Mistress says with a grin, tapping the flat of the knife against her cheek, "the goal of the game is to see how close the knife can get, and for how long, before the kisaeng, that means you, flinches. Some, of course, enjoy that game very much and have to deliberately flinch to reward their patron with the reason for playing the game at all, but I see you're not one of them." The slim eyebrow goes up against pale skin, and Dohwa closes her hands into fists, less to hide the shaking and more to keep herself from lashing out. She can't make this worse on herself, but why is the mistress so awful?

Sure, they got off on the... ah, wrong foot when they first met, and then she found out the twins' secret, but she knows Hyewon is choosing her lessons by what might make her the most unsettled or embarrassed!

Nothing for it, however. Taking a breath, lips pressed together, Dohwa lets it out slowly.

"Fine."

She's barely reached for the ties before Hyewon is holding up an admonishing finger, however.

"And put some grace into it, at least. You undress like a peasant, and while I'm sure there are many peasants who would be reassured flower maidens are just as human and base as they are, you're not going to be entertaining peasants." Another tap of the knife to a smooth, pale cheek. "I won't expect any artistry, not from you, but put a bit more thought behind what you're doing."

Eyes narrowing and cheeks starting to burn, Dohwa just barely manages to untie her jeogori with slow, almost stately movement instead of the choppy jerks she wants to use. Shrugs out of it and holds her arm outstretched behind her before she lets the garment spill on the floor instead of pulling it off  as quickly as possible, like it stinks. She feels awkward, and stared at, because of course Hyewon doesn't look away, her dark eyes narrowing as Dohwa does as bid and takes that one garment off. Finally, there's a huff from the mistress of Moonlight Garden.

"I suppose that's satisfactory. Let's try again, then." If there was any disappointment (and she surely imagined the brief reddening to the mistress' cheeks just now), it is quickly swallowed by businesslike determination, the knife extending towards Dohwa like a snake once again. She can do this. She will not let the mistress win, not this time.

Somehow, she swallows the shuddering breath that wants to escape when the knife teases against the wrap around her breasts, not even deep enough to cut through the fine material, but she knows it could. She stares at it, watching as it goes sideways, presses against the hill of a nipple poking through the fabric, makes something in her stomach twist, then steals upwards. When not even the tickle of cool metal against the bare skin around her collarbones makes her flinch, Dohwa risks looking away from the knife to meet Hyewon's eyes.

For a brief moment, Dohwa has to swallow a triumphant smirk, watching the narrowed, hot glare aimed her way from under thick lashes. Mistress clearly expected her to be unable to deal with the knife. The success sings like a flame through her - and then the knife whispers against the hollow of her throat, a scrape of metal against skin and a chill goes through her.

Somehow, Hyewon doesn't cut her, and the chuckle is smug.

"That's two."

Glowering, Dohwa undoes the belt of her chima with a tilt to her hips, stretching the long ties out to the sides before she lets them go. The skirt falls like a whisper, the fabric pooling like a blooming flower around her feet, leaving only a few layers of sokchima left, and the wrap. She can still win this. She knows Mistress won't cut her. The knife is just there to intimidate (is this even a real game..? Scratch that, she can definitely believe that it would be), she just needs to keep that in mind.

She can't quite keep her hands from trembling, just a little, when the tip of the gleaming blade dances down the column of her throat however, though that close she can only see the guard and Hyewon's slender hand around the hilt, and so she fists her hands back in the sokchima to hide that, to keep herself still. It works... well enough, but the cool tickle of the blade makes it impossible to forget as it follows first one, then the other collarbone, the skin thin over them, and not even the pinched look on Hyewon's face can quite insulate Dohwa from the tension in her belly the longer the knife remains close to her skin.

She knows Mistress won't deliberately cut her (surely... maybe...) but if she gets annoyed enough, frustrated that this little game isn't unnerving Dohwa enough to make her lose to satisfy Hyewon's sneering superiority and need to push her into the ground, Dohwa isn't sure she might not unintentionally slip.

Hyewon's grip on the knife as it circles up to her cheek is white-knuckled now, and while it dives sideways to tickle the wings of her nostrils, Dohwa's heart is thundering in her ears, now. Surely that's as high as the knife will go. Surely.

The knife goes up the bridge of her nose, and Mistress will not cut her, she has to believe that, at the very least, but what if---

"Hyewon? Dohwa?" Yoosun opens the door to Hyewon's office, and both Hyewon and Dohwa freezes, though Dohwa only glances over with her eyes, not daring to move otherwise. The knife is so close. "Am I interrupting again?" Yoosun sounds something between amused and concerned, an awkward little half-smile on her lips as she takes off her mask. Hyewon huffs and steps back, tucking the knife into her belt.

"No. I suppose we should have afternoon tea. You may redress, Dohwa." Hyewon whirls around and if Dohwa wasn't so relieved and incredulously angry at the same time, she might have thought Hyewon was relieved, too. But that is surely not right. Hyewon has no reason to be relieved about being interrupted!

She catches Yoosun's eyes before she can leave to get the tea, and mouths a silent 'thank you, unnie', at her. Yoosun's smile in return chases the chill out of her limbs, and Dohwa can pull the chima back up and then snag her jeogori off the floor without any tremble to her hands at all, and even feel a little smug.

She did it.