Satanas Chapter 7.1 - February Dream

As the sun set, they descended the mountain. The stagecoach carrying the two men sped along a narrow path toward Namdaemun-ro. It was incredibly fortunate to catch a stagecoach, a rare sight even in the capital city. Although Westernization had just begun, the land, not yet having gone through industrialization, showed no readable signs of such a movement.

Instead of the dense clusters of tile roofed and thatched houses, tranquil stone walls preserved the atmosphere, and the occasionally seen paddy fields and the flea market with its spread out stalls were similar to the childhood scenes Tadeo had witnessed. The child like face, preoccupied with looking outside, still could not come to its senses even after arriving at Namdaemun-ro.

After getting off the stagecoach, they transferred to rickshaws. Bell rested his clasped hands on his crossed legs and watched the scenery outside. This time, Tadeo was busy stealing glances at him. It was when the rickshaws, running side by side, paused for a moment in front of a tramway under construction.

“The proprietress of the guesthouse said she’s holding a party on the night of the 10th.”

Bell, who had been loosening the tightly knotted necktie beneath his neatly folded wing collar, suddenly turned his head and spoke. Tadeo, startled, quickly averted his gaze to the opposite side. He had been about to make eye contact nonchalantly, leaning back in a deliberately relaxed posture with his chin propped on his hand. But he immediately shot up from his seat and asked.

“Who did you hear that from? Did you go and read my mind again without permission?”

“No. I heard it directly from the guesthouse proprietress.”

Bell had to wonder for a moment if he had done something wrong. It was because Tadeo was staring straight ahead with a frosty expression. Wondering if there was something to see, he followed Tadeo’s gaze and glanced forward, but all he saw was a quiet street growing dark.

“Are you not attending?”

“What would a priest be doing at a place like that.”

Tadeo answered without so much as a flicker of his eyes. However, he could not help but whip his head around at the words that followed.

“I’m going to attend.”

“What?”

In the twilight that had descended so close, not a single passerby was on the stone walled path, and only the sound of rubber trimmed wooden wheels could be heard. Over it, Sontag’s voice overlapped.

‘Many of the ladies were curious about him.’

The Adam’s apple, hidden by the Roman collar, stood up stiffly. The coldly turned head faced forward again. It was from the thought that the voice echoing in his head might be clearly read in his eyes.

“What are you going to a place like that for?”

“Demons originally like social parties. There’s no place easier to bewitch humans than a place like that. The masquerade ball held at Versailles during the time of Louis XIV was probably the best.”

“You sound excited. So, are you planning to seduce the ladies who supposedly like you?”

The words, tossed out casually, were as chilly as the late spring frost that could make even the coming spring flee. Having said it without thinking, it was a tone he was not accustomed to using. Bell, who could not have missed it, sent him a gaze that was almost embarrassing.

“I didn’t know about that. That there would be many women who like me.”

Tadeo anxiously bit his lip. Just as he had expected, he had handed him the perfect excuse to be teased.

“Are you jealous?”

At the question that followed, Tadeo scoffed. As he turned his head in a huff, he came face to face with Bell, who had leaned his body out from the adjacent rickshaw. And he regretted it. He should have just stopped at letting out a dry laugh, as if he had no energy for wordplay.

In the early evening as dusk settled. The faces that met under the black canopy, as if sharing a single umbrella, were exceedingly close. Clunk. The under oiled wheel caught on a stone. The rickshaw swayed, and his heart lurched with it. Surely, that sinking heart was not because of that face, which shone like the flame of a lit lantern. It was all because it caught on a stone, so he thought. Even as he felt the heat rising to his forehead.

“Absolutely. Not. At. All.”

“Still, stay by my side. What about the clothes you’ll wear?”

Despite the disjointed answers, Bell was pleased. The way he buttoned his open jacket and averted his gaze, the way he changed his crossed legs and slightly lifted his chin, the jaw muscle that became prominent when he clenched and unclenched his teeth, everything seemed like teasing disguised as leisure.

“A priest wears a soutane, what else would he wear.”

“Have one tailored. Something suitable for a party.”

“I don’t have money.”

“I have a lot.”

There was a power in his words that made one comply without being coercive. As he sat elegantly, his fingers flicked gracefully, making the evening air ring pleasantly. At that sound, the two fast moving rickshaw pullers looked back.

“はい, おきゃくさま。(Yes, sir.)”

“ここ漢城でもっともゆうめいな洋服屋はどこだろうか。(Where is the most famous tailor shop here in Hanseong.)”

“とうぜん濱田洋服店です。(It’s Hamada Tailor Shop, of course!)”

“そこに行ってくれ。(Take us there.)”

Bell nodded as he checked the pocket watch he took out from his coat pocket. It was an old pocket watch, its plating all worn off to reveal a brass color. Tadeo recalled the Christmas two years ago when he, lacking money, had gifted him only the watch chain. While he was silent for a moment, the two rickshaws changed direction.

“I said it’s fine!”

“Listen to me.”

The rickshaws, which had entered Jeongdong-gil, began to run at a faster speed than before. Bell’s face, having ignored the complaints, looked pleased. As they passed Deoksugung Palace, the two elongated shadows of the rickshaws did not seem to escape the view of the full moon traversing the celestial sphere.

Two pairs of dress shoes stepped onto the ground, bright with the lights of the lit up shops. Among them, the brightest shop was, of course, ‘Hamada Tailor Shop’. The place, said to have been opened by a Japanese man named ‘Hamada’, had gained fame by making clothes for the Japanese legation and its officers. It was said that due to Japanese influence, they even supplied to the Joseon royal court, so despite the sentiment that was still wary of Western culture, the front of the store was always bustling with onlookers.

“Your skin is fair, so any color would suit you well. How about a color like this?”

Tadeo, who had been looking around the inside of the shop, stopped walking. Just then, as he stood before a mirror, Hamada brought over a light grayish-blue fabric and draped it over him. Unlike the black soutane that had emphasized his fair skin, the color blended harmoniously, shimmering.

“I think it’s too flashy….”

At the ant sized voice, Bell, who had been eyeing the suits displayed in the showroom, turned around. To Tadeo, that short moment felt very slow. The gesture of turning around, with the light at his back, was so elegant it sparkled like magic. Soon, a moment that would not tolerate even the smallest sound unfolded before his eyes.

In that place, where all the sounds of the world had been driven out, even the showroom lights that shot up seemed to turn into thousands of stars upon reaching him.

The gaze that had been meticulously examining the displayed products was now landing on every part of his body. It was a look with the stubbornness and persistence of a calm wave, one that could suddenly flood and break him down. Tadeo pointlessly tugged at his cuffs.

“Black or white suits you well.”

Bell, touching his own lips, said as he shook his head without mercy. At those words, Hamada took the fabric back. He, who had disappeared with a face of faint disappointment, reappeared with a measuring tape around his neck.

“I need to take your measurements, so please take off your outer garment.”

As Hamada said this, slipping a pin cushion onto his forearm, Bell frowned. Tadeo, unaware of this, promptly began to unbutton his clothes. Bell, who had opened his mouth to say something, turned his head with a displeased expression. He did not like the sight of him shamelessly stripping it off, when all he wore underneath was a single, thin, low cut shirt.

You were clearly born to turn my insides out.

“Please raise your head and straighten your back.”

The movement of the measuring tape, starting from the shoulder line and proceeding downwards, was reflected in the full length mirror. Standing still like this, Tadeo was suddenly reminded of his childhood memories.

In his youth, there was the sorrow of not being able to attend a village school even once due to his humble status. In his life after immigrating to France with Peter, he was able to receive an abundant education. From the moment he started school, Bell would drag him to the tailor at all hours, and thanks to that, Tadeo was able to dress as well as any aristocratic family.

His exotic appearance soon led to discrimination, but his attire alone had made him the center of attention at school. Thanks to that, hadn’t the nickname ‘the mysterious Asian from India’ followed him around? At such times, he would be busy using his arms and legs to earnestly explain about his country.

And when he first found the country named Joseon on a map, he was teased for the piece of land smaller than a joint of his finger.

“Please raise your arm once.”

His mind, which had been lost in reminiscence, returned to the surface. As Tadeo abruptly spread both arms to the sides, Hamada with the measuring tape pressed his body close as if hugging him. From the greasy hair that brushed against his Adam’s apple, the smell of pomade gel wafted up. Not liking the scent, Tadeo held his chin up stiffly.

“The tailcoat design His Highness is wearing is the most fashionable in Hanseong. It’s a design with wide lapels and luxurious four buttons.”

Bell was sitting on the sofa with a displeased face. When Hamada measured Tadeo’s chest circumference, his already stern expression crumpled into an outright grimace.

“Sir…?”

Hamada, feeling a chill down his spine from the piercing gaze, stopped measuring and turned his head. Tadeo also looked at Bell since no answer came. He had the same leisurely and arrogant face as always. Unable to find anything unusual, Tadeo looked back at the mirror. However, Hamada flinched his shoulders once and then hurriedly finished taking the measurements.

“What everyone else wears is no fun. The most classic style. But make the lapels not too narrow.”

Bell said as he circled the slender body clad in a fitting sample jacket. The slow sound of his dress shoes seemed to stroll upon the showroom lights that flickered sporadically on the street where lights were going out one by one.

“Ah, and make it fit the body so perfectly that it would be fine to throw it away after wearing it once….”

The face seen in the mirror stopped behind him. The sound of footsteps, which had been like walking on water, also stopped. Bell’s gaze, directed toward a corner, was fixed like a sharp arrowhead hitting a target, not moving away.

“What are you looking at?”

“No. Nothing.”

The peeking head tried to find the spot he had been staring at, mesmerized. Then, a dress shoe that took a bold step forward bumped into the tip of his own shoe. The head that had been darting here and there came face to face with Bell, who stood firmly blocking the way. The now docile eyes slowly rose, and a smirking mouth filled his vision.

Noses, as if polished with beeswax, touched. Hair through which a golden nightscape flowed also rustled against the white shirt. The startled priest’s dress shoes took a step back. His heart tickled, and Tadeo felt his mouth go dry, and his eyes, drawn into the blue hole depths of the other’s pupils, forgot to blink.

“Is there any other design you would like?”

Hamada, who was writing down the requests, lifted his head and asked. It was the moment the strangely stirring meeting of gazes ended.

“What are you doing…. Get away from me.”

Tadeo pushed Bell away and turned around. The air, which had not warmed even with the oil heater, instantly became humid and hot. Bell, turning back irritably, raised his eyebrows sharply, and the startled Hamada flinched his shoulders.

“Haha… D-did I do something wrong…?”

The turned dress shoes stepped down from the platform. Tadeo, feeling another surge of heat, flapped his shirt. Hoo, hoo. The dark hair that had settled down scattered messily with his puffs of breath.

“The time is tight to finish by the 10th. Haa, it’s impossible. Since you are tall and have a slender build, I think all the displayed clothes would suit you well. How about choosing from among those?”

“Triple.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll pay you triple the price. Of course, if you finish it within the deadline.”

Hamada, who had been shaking his head while looking at the chart with the measurements, shot his head up. Tadeo, who had been listening quietly from the side, was also surprised by the absurd bargain and pulled on Bell’s shoulder.

“Are you crazy?”

“No. I’m perfectly fine. Humans will do anything as long as you give them money.”

As the rebuking voice lowered its pitch considerably, Bell whispered back as if imitating him. Right, if you listened to me, you wouldn’t be ‘that Bell’. Tadeo pressed his forehead as if he had given up completely.

“Still, this is too unreasonable….”

“Haha….”

He was about to open his mouth to reason with him again. At the short laugh, Tadeo turned his head.

“It seems I’ll have to show off my skills for the first time in a while. You must keep that promise, you hear?”

Hamada, standing beyond the desk where various ties were displayed, said as he cracked his knuckles. Bell shrugged his shoulders as if to say, ‘see?’.

“I guess this is what they call pissing money away.”

His footsteps dragged as he left the tailor shop. Tadeo said this while staring at the contract in his hand with a dazed face. On the fluttering piece of paper, a stamp with red ink was firmly pressed over a signature scrawled with an ink pen. ‘How much is this….’ His eyes, counting the numbers, turned toward Bell walking ahead.

“If you were going to do this, why did you bring me along? It was your way from start to finish.”

“I had to get the measurements.”

Bell, who was walking with both hands in his coat pockets, turned around.

“I’m looking forward to it, the night of the 10th. You?”

And he held out his hand as he asked back.

🦇

The sun of early spring was quick to set. By the time he finished his theology class at the girls’ school near Hyehwamun, the sun was already setting over the western mountains.

After Peter left, busy days had continued to the point where he couldn’t even count the passing days. If he hadn’t run into Sontag on his way out of the guesthouse for morning mass, he wouldn’t have even known that today was February 10th. That is, if the woman who had greeted him with a warm, smiling expression hadn’t urged him not to be late for the party.

“Bell?”

Thinking Bell would surely be there, he had grabbed and turned the doorknob first. Clank, clank. But the door was firmly locked. Tadeo, who found the key after rummaging through his pockets and opened the door, looked around the silent room before striding toward the bathroom.

“Bell, are you in here?”

He knocked briefly and threw the door open. Bell was not in the bathroom either. He, who hadn’t shown even a hair of himself since he opened his eyes in the morning, had still not returned.

“Where on earth did he go….”

Saying he was looking forward to it and all that, wasn’t it all a lie?

Knock, knock. Tadeo, who had been standing on the bathroom threshold blinking blankly, spun around. ‘Bell, is that you?’ he asked as he ran towards the door. The door, which he threw open without even waiting for a reply, revealed Hamada, standing there panting with hollow eyes.

“Huff, huff… I’m not too late, am I?”

A dark shadow starting from under his eyes reached down to his cheeks. ‘I’ve put my 20 years of tailoring skills into this. I poured my soul into it.’ Hamada said with a smile, holding out the box he was clutching in his arms.

“The blond gentleman offered five times the price to complete one suit by this evening.”

“It was three times!”

“He came again this morning, raised the price, and paid for everything.”

Tadeo’s jaw dropped at the words spoken as Hamada pressed his forehead with a handkerchief taken from his trousers pocket.

“He’s crazy….”

“Well then, I shall be on my way!”

Hamada, fixing his crooked ascot tie, walked down the hallway, slicking back his flattened, pomaded hair. Tadeo’s steps dragged as he closed the door and turned around. It was the same gait as when he had left the tailor shop.

“…”

He stared silently at the box placed on the bed. After chewing on the tender inside of his mouth for several minutes, he reached for the box. When he pulled the navy blue ribbon, the stylishly tied bow came undone at once. And he slowly opened the lid.

🦇

It was a deep evening, the sunset dyeing the window where a vase stood and the white lace curtains. It seemed as if falling flowers were raining down on the western edge of the sky. The person who had been gazing out the window turned their attention back to the mirror. Round fingertips kept touching the neck, as if the shirt, which came up higher than the Roman collar, felt awkward.

The sound of a door opening and closing filled the hallway, and excited voices passed by the front of the door. The face reflected in the mirror looked a little nervous. The hand that had been fiddling with the velvet cuff dropped, and presently, the steps leaving the mirror headed for the door.

The hallway he stepped out into was bustling with the fragrant smell of food and the sound of conversations coming from downstairs. When he reached the end of the hallway, the hand that grasped the railing was neat, without a single protruding knuckle. On the round, fair cheek that looked out over it, the light of the chandelier settled.

“That gentleman is also attending today.”

“Really?”

“You can believe it. The proprietress told me herself.”

Fascinators decorated with feathers and corsages gathered in a cluster, whispering. The faces behind mesh veils wore smiles as lush as their formal dresses. The bustle dresses with their puffed up and pleated backs and the karako jackets, where even a single covered button looked luxurious, were more beautiful than the melody coming from the gramophone.

“Women….”

Into the throng of dresses of all shapes and colors, of which no two were the same design, ordinary tuxedos entered.

“It is not only gentlemen who know how to appreciate beauty. We, in particular, have an excellent eye for recognizing beauty.”

A woman, who had been laughing without even remembering to cover her mouth with a fan, turned elegantly and spoke. The smile on her lips, which had not faded, cooled frostily as soon as she lowered the fan.

“Of course, our eyes for recognizing ‘that’ are also excellent.”

Just then, a red-haired woman dressed in a suit appeared and added a word, and high-pitched laughs burst out at once.

“Ahaha, you’re too much. This is why I like Iris!”

“Unlike men, the habit of grooming ourselves to be beautiful is practically ingrained in our genes. So doesn’t it make no sense for us not to like a beautiful man?”

“My, you’re so well-spoken. How is the writing going, Iris?”

“Of course. Ever since I changed my pen name to ‘Mark Dean’ in the world….”

The conversation of those disappearing arm in arm faded away. A young man who had been politely bowing to them spoke with a refreshing smile.

“I guarantee it, even another man would fall for him.”

“I didn’t know you had such tastes. Ahem….”

Tadeo, who had been standing on the stairs looking only at the floor below, lifted his head to the chandelier. His chest already felt tight and constricted. It felt as if he were wearing a corset that cinched his waist suffocatingly. Bell, everyone is talking about you. Where on earth are you.

With a deep sigh, his steps descended the stairs. His slender hand slid along the smooth railing. The trouser hem, cut to a suitable length, lifted, revealing the thin ankle that had been hidden by the soutane. When the ankle bone, looking like a peach pit had been embedded in it, peeked out from under the trouser hem, his steps paused for a moment on the landing where the staircase turned.

“Goodness, Father.”

“You are the priest, aren’t you?”

“Oh my, how cute.”

All eyes, both those that had been gathered and those that were passing by, focused on him.

“They say clothes make the man, and that saying is just perfect.”

The velvet jacket, as soft as skin, had a glossy sheen like the outer bark of an eggplant. The double buttons, sparkling with gold, looked as if they were engraved with the crest of some noble family. Thanks to fastening even the inner buttons, the waist, tailored to a snug fit, showed a perfect silhouette.

The right-angled shoulders, the curved waist, and the neatly placed sleeve ends were thickly topstitched for sturdiness. The not-too-overstated epaulets and the unfolded wing collar doubled the ascetic atmosphere, and the black ribbon tied beneath it exuded the air of an immature boy.

The suit was similar in design to the first one Bell had ever had made for him.

“Good evening, Father.”

“Mr. Holt, by any chance, is that person the one who is staying here with ‘that gentleman’…?”

“That’s him. All Asians look so young.”

“To think he was Asian. He looks just like a Joseon person.”

Amidst the voices offering greetings, murmuring talk could be heard not infrequently. Tadeo felt the urge to run back up. His stomach churned and he felt nauseous. He needed to finish descending the stairs, but his feet simply would not move.

“Oh, there he is.”

Just then, starting with a gentleman’s words, all eyes poured toward the lobby entrance at once.

“My goodness….”

“Oh… my.”

“Look over there, Mrs. Vanderbilt. Is that the person you were talking about?”

Only then did the unmoving dress shoes come unstuck. The trousers, revealing his straight and stylish form, also showed the bend of his knees. It was around the time Tadeo had four steps left to go. Just as the Red Sea parted when Moses set foot, the clusters of dresses and tuxedos began to slowly part into two.

Even after the entrance closed, a wind rippled around the one who was walking in. The hems of dresses decorated with frills and lace created a foam, and the tails of swallowtail tuxedos reaching to the back of the knees swayed like seaweed. The stairs were submerged right to the bottom by the surging crowd.

Through the gap, Bell could be seen walking, the hem of his dopo fluttering.

“It is as if he is not a person of this world….”

There were no other words to describe him besides the ones a woman uttered. The light blue dopo he wore over his tall frame was exquisitely beautiful. The sleeves and hem that swayed with each step fluttered like a kite released into the sky, and even within the generously wide, almost billowing, garment, his mysterious presence stood out completely.

The wide collar with its harmony of diagonal and straight lines, and the monochromatic dongjeong. It was precisely the attire of this country, Joseon, as if it had been fashioned by carving out the eaves of a hanok and modeled after an ink wash landscape painting with colors added.

His unique gait, as if walking on water, possessed the subtle grace of the hemline, making it seem as if he were riding on clouds. It was no different from a divine immortal, unconstrained by the secular world. It was only natural that one’s soul would be captivated by that silk, undulating like an illusion.

“For a face I hoped would not come, it’s not bad.”

The red goreum, which had been flying like a crane’s tail around the black durumagi draped over his shoulders, settled down. Having reached the front of the stairs, Bell held out his hand. The wide sleeve, which came down to his knee, slid back, revealing a long hand.

“Did you wait long?”

“…You, you call that a question?”

“It was worth the effort. I’m relieved.”

His golden hair, which embroidered the black durumagi like a dragon robe, settled down calmly. The yellow light of the chandelier flowed over the lips that spoke words of unknown meaning.

“I can hear your heart beating from all the way over here.”

Too flustered, he could not even retort. Tadeo curled the hand gripping the railing into a fist and bit his lip. Bell was genuinely pleased. He suppressed the joy hidden behind his strange smile as much as possible. It was because the heart he felt in his left palm was throbbing enough to make his whole body tremble.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for attending the party tonight.”

The space, which had been filled only with the music flowing from the gramophone, could finally breathe. All the eyes that had been fixed on them moved elsewhere. It was the proprietress of the guesthouse, Sontag, who had come out from the dining hall.

“Meals and desserts, champagne, and simple finger foods have all been prepared in the dining hall and café, so….”

In the lobby where Sontag’s voice echoed, only Bell was looking at Tadeo.

“So when are you going to hold my hand.”

Tadeo, who had been staring at a violet colored dress, blinked. His eyelids fluttered once, and the changed focus captured Bell. The image formed on his retina crossed and distorted, and his trembling gaze settled on the offered hand.

“…Now.”

And with that quiet answer, he placed his hand on top of it.

They headed straight for the dining hall. It was because of what Tadeo had said as soon as he came down holding his hand, ‘I’m starving to death.’ Their clasped hands had separated as soon as they descended the stairs. Bell had told him to link arms, but Tadeo had shaken his head vigorously, saying he could not go that far. As soon as he entered the dining hall, Tadeo, who had picked up a fruit tart and was munching on it, asked with slurred pronunciation.

“Where did you get these clothes?”

“You cannot say you have been to a country without trying on its clothes.”

Bell answered, snapping his fingers at a passing waiter. At the timing of the champagne being offered, Tadeo, as if his throat was blocked, thumped his chest with his fist. ‘Thanks.’ Bell watched with a pleased expression as Tadeo’s face, which had hastily grabbed the rim of the glass and gulped it down, drank thirstily.

“Don’t get drunk today.”

“Why?”

‘That’s better.’ The face, which had been grimacing, asked back, stroking its chest.

“If you get drunk, it becomes difficult for me.”

Saying so, Bell took a sip of champagne. His eyes, naturally cast down as he swallowed, scanned the elegant and lissome body. Pleased with the clothes he had dressed him in, one corner of his mouth rose like the toe of a beoseon.

“Today, the gentleman who has graced this occasion, and about whom many ladies have been curious….”

‘The champagne is sweet and delicious.’ Tadeo, who was ceaselessly putting tarts into his mouth, drained another glass of champagne.

“Is the son of the House of Burgundy, the Grand Duke of England.”

“Pfft…!”

Tadeo suddenly let out a dry cough. Fearing that even a crumb of bread would fly out of the mouth into which he was cutting and stuffing meat pie, he had to abruptly cover his mouth.

“Please give a round of applause for Count Bell Burgundy.”

“Since when were you a British noble…?”

“Americans and Japanese have always been crazy about the honor held by the British nobility. They have money, but they lack honor.”

Tadeo’s two cheeks were puffed out to their fullest, like a hamster that had stuffed its cheeks with sunflower seeds. Bell had to resist the urge to poke and press his finger right there. Tadeo, who had been chewing nonstop even while covering his mouth, swallowed with a gulp as if his throat would burst. And with a napkin he had quickly grabbed, he wiped his mouth and nagged.

“Still, you shouldn’t lie, Bell.”

“It’s not a lie. It’s not a complete fabrication. How do you think Burgundy rose to the position of Grand Duke?”

The corner of his mouth that rose as he asked was sly. And yet, it was not detestable. The head tilted at the end of the boastful question let his beautiful hair flow down. At that sight, Tadeo passed by food he used to enjoy in Paris without even noticing it was there.

“It is a little early, but we will begin the party.”

Clap, clap. The sound of a few claps rang through the dining hall. The attention from the café also focused on them. It was the same for the chefs who were busy cooking at the counter. The voice of the woman with excellent eloquence continued.

“I would like to ask Count Bell Burgundy to show us the dance moves of an English gentleman….”

A graceful smile was directed at Bell. The faces that had been looking at Sontag began to ripple like a wave, starting from those closest to him.

“Would that be alright?”

“You’re in big trouble now.”

By the time the words that rang through the hall ended, numerous heads were fixed on Bell at once, and Tadeo said teasingly.

“There is one thing you are overlooking….”

Then, lips that lowered whispered into the ear situated above the slender neckline.

“A demon can do anything.”

The hem of the durumagi worn like a coat billowed. Once again, the red otgoreum fluttered. Bell, having finished speaking, had moved far away like a receding current. The warm breath lingering near his earlobe and the confident voice had not yet faded.

The taesahye, with white lines etched on the toe and heel, approached the side of the purple dress. As Sontag and Bell embraced and touched cheeks, Tadeo quickly turned his gaze to the food. None of the visually pleasing dishes entered his eyes.

He doubted if this was the same person who always showed a lukewarm attitude toward other humans. His social side, seen for the first time, even felt unfamiliar. Knowing that he was exchanging greetings, he disliked himself for pouting like a person with less patience than a small-minded bandengi.

“I will give you a moment to choose the partner you like the most, Bell.”

It has come to this. Tadeo squeezed his eyes shut.

There must be a woman in this place who is a perfect match for you, who receives attention wherever you go. You are also a man, so it is only right that you recognize the beauty a woman possesses. But, why am I….

Once again, it became a time when only the music flowing from the gramophone existed. It felt as if the beating hearts of many women were seeping through the suffocatingly flowing silence. His chest grew tight again, just like when he could not descend from the landing. Each time Tadeo inhaled, his chest, clad in the velvet jacket, swelled greatly.

“Good evening, Father.”

His heart swayed. He had almost flinched with his whole body. It was not an unfamiliar feeling. It was a feeling he had surely experienced before. It was exactly the same as when the rickshaw wheel had caught on a stone and his heart had lurched. The voice that came from the darkness was unmistakably the voice of someone he knew. Tadeo slowly opened his closed eyes.

The trembling in the rickshaw, which had remained as a shadow under the full moon, was not because of the stone.

“Would you care for a dance.”

“…”

“With me.”

Because, as soon as he took in the taesahye with the white stripes, his heart sank once more.

The light blue dopo was falling right before his eyes. The pupils that traveled up the blue silk were like a black pebble being lifted from a deep lake. When their eyes finally met, Bell thought that those pupils shone brighter than the black pearls under the chandelier.

“What are you doing. People are staring.”

Just when it seemed he had him in his grasp, he would slip away in an instant. What was there to be so concerned about, the innocent eyes darted around sharply. The atmosphere, which had been as quiet as if time had stopped the moment Bell took a step, was now stirring. Amidst the clearly audible murmurs of the crowd, he maintained his smile and said.

“You can refuse.”

“Huh?”

“It will just be a little embarrassing, that’s all.”

Tadeo shut his mouth. The murmuring sound grew louder than before. The indecisive face only tormented his easy target lips. In the past, he would have considered him frustrating and foolish, but now Bell could wait as long as it took. Even if it took a whole day. Standing in this spot.

However, the flow of the world’s time and the time given to him were always different.

“But only if you are fine with me dancing with another woman….”

“…”

“Refuse.”

So Bell decided to light the fuse.

“You really….”

Only then do the hesitating and faltering lips open at once. The hand that seemed it would never clasp his also twitches and moves. If he slips away, he just has to grasp his hand again. Just like right now.

“You are really mean.”

“I know.”

The hand, extended as if in defeat, was clasped. Bell pulled the corners of his apricot colored lips, which were drawing an arc, up even further. He liked that the words, contained within a blaming tone, were so meaningful. The met right and left hands press their palms together. Tadeo, looking at the fingertips that were a joint taller than his own, opened his mouth as if in a dream.

“I heard that to touch hands is a holy palmer’s kiss.”

As he took a step forward, the neatly fallen trouser hem revealed itself among the dresses. All the gathered people stepped back, creating a small stage. They, who stood at the center, rubbed their pressed palms together and clasped hands.

“I am not a palmer.”

Bell took Tadeo’s other hand and placed it on his own shoulder.

“My hands are inherently base and would defile even a holy place, so I wonder if the good Father has the confidence not to regret it.”

By the time he finished speaking, his remaining right hand was wrapping around the straight waist. As he pulled, the body that followed with a stumble wrapped its awkwardly placed hand more deeply around him. The one who shone more brilliantly than a black pearl was now much closer. The trembling eyelashes lifted, and the upward gaze was instantly drawn into the eyes of the ocean.

“Romeo said something similar…. Do you know what Juliet said then?”

“What did she say.”

Bell asked back, stroking the fine hairs of the velvet jacket that was like the Seine River at midnight. As that hand traveled up his back, Tadeo flinched. Only after Bell’s hand paused below his shoulder blade could he open his mouth again.

“‘Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this.’”

“…”

“Is what she would have said.”

With that answer, the music that had been playing from the gramophone came to an end. Then Sontag, who had been watching them, released her hands and approached the piano. With his eyes locked on her red lips, Bell, who had been momentarily dazed and out of focus, smiled pleasantly.

“Then, Father, let lips do what hands do.”

He brings his lips to the ear, where the neat back of the head is faintly visible, and whispers softly. It was the line with which Romeo, who had secretly attended the Capulet party, wooed Juliet, with whom he had fallen in love at first sight. Tadeo opened his eyes wide and gently pushed the shoulder he was holding.

“What, you knew it too, why did you pretend not to know?”

“I wanted to hear it from your lips.”

After the sly answer, a fast-tempo piano melody began.

“Uh, uh, I have never danced before. Isn’t there something? Like a magic spell to make me dance well?”

A flustered Tadeo mumbled and stammered. It was clear he did not know what he was saying right now. A priest asking a demon to cast a spell, are you in your right mind?

“It’s okay. Just think of it as slowly matching my steps.”

Despite the low, laughing words of reassurance, Tadeo blinked his anxious eyes and took deep breaths. The melody, which had captured the sound of spring’s arrival on the keyboard, flowed from the tapping fingertips. As Sontag, who had been pressing similar chords repeatedly, nodded at them as if giving a signal, Bell took a step.

Following the foot that stepped to the side, Tadeo also extended a foot. When he brought his other foot, he followed exactly like a chick learning from its mother. The steps, coming and going in time with the beat, moved clockwise, drawing a round circle. When one phrase ended, the met pair of bodies twirled around.

“Oof…… What do I do. I just stepped on your foot.”

For a moment, a dress shoe that could not be pulled back in time stepped on the taesahye. A startled Tadeo, without realizing it, hugged his shoulder and confessed. He could feel the cold sweat seeping from their clasped small hands. Clasping the hand that was pressing down firmly, Bell moved the hand that had been supporting his back down to wrap around his waist.

“No wonder it felt like I was stabbed with a metal skewer.”

“…I should have stepped on it harder.”

The lips, which had protruded at the teasing words, pouted. Perhaps because of the mistake he had just made, Tadeo was now stepping while looking only at the floor. Instead of the round forehead that had been brushing against it, only the black hair, like foxtail grass, tickled Bell’s nose.

“Look at me, Tadeo.”

“I don’t want to. I feel like my feet will get tangled.”

“It’s okay. Look at me. Slowly.”

It was a voice with a strange power. Mysteriously, if he said it was okay, it really felt like everything would be okay. The slowly raised head met the face that was less than a handspan away. The two pairs of legs were in constant motion, and the melody, which had gone up an octave, seemed to have brought the spring of April to a Hanseong where not even forsythias had yet bloomed.

With every strolling step, the light blue dopo that fell faintly rustled. When they twirled, the sound of silk brushing against silk was sprinkled. Hair that shone even in pitch black darkness fluttered. The wide cuffs that fell to the knees billowed with the red otgoreum and sulddi.

“You’re doing well.”

The music, befitting the fast beat, was cheerful, yet they drew a smooth circle. Softly yet quickly, they traversed the entire empty space, and sometimes, as if that were not enough, they made some gentlemen and ladies stand pressed tightly against the wall.

At some point, Tadeo was smiling brightly. One by one, the people were being erased. In the blink of an eye, the guesthouse interior they were traversing was transformed into a field with green grass sprouting. That wondrous experience made him think that if this was a dream, he would never want to wake up.

Bell, at this moment, was more beautiful than the sky where the sunset bloomed, more beautiful than this nature that had existed since time immemorial. That beauty alone was enough to make tonight a dream of February.

“Don’t look at my eyes.”

Tadeo, who had been staring blankly, blinked his eyes. Into the scenery that had vanished in an instant, the cozy light of the chandelier filled in once again. It was layered like an oil painting being painted over on a canvas. The pupils, which had turned dark brown reflecting the light, slid from the forehead that seemed carved with a knife. Bending at the brow to the bridge of the nose, they followed the connected line down and stopped, suspended at the philtrum.

“…Why?”

“I am seducing you right now.”

But the gaze that defied his will was once again drawn into the eyes of the ocean.

“Humans can never resist a demon’s temptation.”

“…I think I have won before.”

Tadeo said, recalling the late lunch on Christmas Eve, the day he had wished for snow to fall. The kisses he had showered upon him had created the illusion of being caught in the falling snow. The snow in the fantasy was warm, and the breath they had shared, enough to steal one’s soul, had been hot.

On the day I pushed you away from the bed that would have passionately burned if not for the sound of a gunshot, I should have felt great shame and guilt. And that day was also the day Antonio’s death and the unexpected revelation of your identity descended upon me like a snowstorm.

“I fell for you then.”

Bell muttered with a low laugh, but Tadeo could hear him clearly.

“And you weren’t resentful?”

Tadeo asked, pulling the shoulder he had his arm around closer.

“Half and half.”

“…”

“Because I was the first demon to fall for a human’s temptation.”

Bell replied softly, touching their foreheads together. And the piano performance, which had even played a da capo, came to an end.

As the music ended, applause poured out for them who had presented the waltz. The clasped hands and the arms wrapped around each other’s bodies separated a little late. The bodies, which had lingered before moving apart, stood side by side and bowed to the crowd. Another burst of applause grew louder.

“This time, I think I succeeded in seducing you.”

Pairs of gentlemen and ladies began to walk out, hand in hand. The crowd, which flowed in like water, filled the surroundings in an instant. The hand, shining like white jade beyond the hem of the dopo, was offered to Tadeo again.

“What do you think?”

Now, his chest no longer felt tight. He was not conscious of the gazes directed at him. He simply answered by grasping the hand Bell held out.

It was an unforgettable night. It was as sweet and splendid as the champagne in the long, test tube like glass, and it encouraged happiness like the bubbles of carbonation that rose up. Tadeo offered a short prayer that the countless tomorrows to come would be just like tonight.

“The two gentlemen have graced the occasion. It was a wonderful sight.”

The steps that were heading for the lobby after slipping through the dancers came to a halt. It was Sontag, standing by the piano.

“And, Bell. The hanbok suits you very well. It will soon be a huge trend in Hanseong. Even among the foreign gentlemen.”

“Madam.”

Tadeo, who was about to leave the banquet hall after exchanging greetings, stopped his step and called out to Sontag.

“Tonight must have been the brightest place in Hanseong.”

“Of course. The dignitaries who came after hearing the rumors about Bell were not limited to just the white people.”

At the subtly tossed question, Sontag answered with an implicit glance. The place her gaze followed was where the Japanese legation officials dressed in tuxedos and their wives in elaborate kimonos were gathered. Sontag, who had been glancing at their palely powdered faces, put on the leather gloves she had placed on the piano.

They stepped onto the red carpet as they headed out to the lobby together. Tadeo and Bell climbed the first step of the staircase leading to the second floor, and Sontag, holding onto the ornate railing of the bannister, waved her hand. The atmosphere of the banquet hall, visible beyond the window, was ripening and showed no sign of fading. That fervor would probably only cool down in the early morning, after midnight.

“I hope things go well for you, Madam.”

“I also hope the two of you will be happy.”

‘I always feel this, but Father, you are so lovely.’ Sontag had said this when Tadeo’s cheeks, bathed in the warm light, turned rosy like a peach. Tadeo bid farewell for the success of their secret, important undertaking, and Sontag bid farewell for their future, thus concluding their greetings.

“I am so embarrassed because of you, I could die.”

They, who had run up the stairs with their hands tightly clasped, stopped in front of the door. Tadeo, leaning his back against the firmly locked door, said with a laugh. ‘To think I would dance with you in front of people.’ Haha, the silly laughter he let out gradually subsided. Just as he was slowly being swallowed by those blue eyes that gazed at him intently, his ragged breath also calmed down.

“Now, please give me your answer, Father.”

Bell raised both hands and placed them on the door. Beneath them, the light blue dopo sleeves fell in disarray.

“To what…?”

Tadeo, pinned to the door and unable to move, held the fallen silk hem in his hand and fiddled with it. They were even closer than when they had been waltzing, but he did not avoid the persistently meeting gaze and accepted it fully.

“That thing about the palmer’s kiss.”

‘Then, Father, let lips do what hands do.’ At that moment, he recalled the lips that had usurped Romeo’s line with a smile filled not with sublime love, but with lust.

“What if, even if I grant it, the saint’s heart does not move…?”

The play that Tadeo, who had read books indiscriminately in Paris, liked the most was, by far, the French translation of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. The scene where the love at first sight at the Capulet party led to a first kiss in less than a few dozen minutes was shocking and stimulating to him, who had chosen the path of a priest.

How much the conversation, which announced that the romance of the century, unprecedented in history, had just begun, had blushed the cheeks of the fresh-faced boy. The question he had asked was Juliet’s line to test Romeo, and Bell knew the meaning of that question. It meant that the conversation they had shared briefly before the waltz was now continuing.

“It does not have to move. I am inherently sinful, so I am merely washing away that sin with the Father’s lips.”

With those words, Bell ended, grasping a handful of the soft, black hair and pressing his lips to his.