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The sun was out the following day, and there was a nice breeze. I decided it would be a good day for a horseback riding. I opted to wear my favorite cream colored dress, with the sprigs of blue and green flowers. I pinched my cheeks to add some color, and I felt that I looked lovely, and not at all my usual mousy. Perhaps I had gained some confidence between George’s attentions, and Tristan’s painting.
Once ready, I found my way to the kitchen and begged a sugar cube from the cook. With the treat secured, I headed out to the stables. The stable hand, Charles, was there already mucking out the stalls. I grabbed one of the brushes and went to brush my horse. Willow must have known about the sugar cube, as she nudged me for it. Today was going to be great.
"Are you as eager to go riding as I am?"
"Where are you off to today, Miss Elizabeth?" Charles asked.
"Mr. Hodge said there was a lovely lake nearby," I said. "I was thinking I'd go exploring."
"All by yourself, Miss?"
"I'll be riding too, Charles," George said as he arrived at the stables. I had hoped he'd come.
"I'll get your horse ready," Charles said. "It's a lovely spot, miss. Good for a picnic it is."
"Maybe we should make a picnic of it then." I flashed George one of my brightest smiles. I finished brushing Willow, and picked up the saddle.
“Let me get that for you,” one of the stable boys said taking it from me.
“Thank you,” I said. I rubbed my hands on my skirt and turned to watch George checking his saddle.
"Good morning, Elizabeth," Mr. Hodge said agreeably as George and I led our horses out. "Perfect weather I'd say."
The small talk was endearing.
Charles helped me mount, and I turned and smiled at the Hodges. "Anyone care for a race?"
"Is that a challenge?" George raised an eyebrow, and gave a pat to Rising Dragon.
"It is." I grinned. I had a trick up my sleeve.
"I am certainly not in for a race," Mr. Hodge said. "These old bones just aren't up for all the bouncing around. You two go ahead, I will be right behind you."
I nodded and shouted, "Go!" as Willow and I took off.
“Elizabeth, wait!” George called after me. He quickly mounted and followed.
Willow and I did our best, and I did not expect to win. As it was, for a while George and I were neck to neck. Our horses seemed to be enjoying the race as much as we were. At the very end, George pulled ahead and won.
Mr. Hodge came up a few moments later. "Who won?" he asked.
"George, but that is only because Willow and I let him win."
"You let me win?" George smiled as he dismounted and came to assist me.
"Of course. Willow is a magic horse, and if I had spoken the magical words, she'd have flown. You would have never caught us." As if to agree with me, Willow neighed and shook her head up and down.
"Amazing horse you are, Willow," Mr. Hodge said, patting her and he took the reins and went to secure both of our horses next to George's.
George was watching me with a thoughtful expression. "I would like to see this flying," George remarked. "We shall have to have another race."
"Of course," I said, enjoying the easy banter between us.
"I have seen magic in my day," Mr. Hodge said, as we all sat down comfortably.
"You have?" I wondered what kind of magic. Oh, I knew there were legends and myths all over the world. The ancient world was full of them, such as Hercules.
"Indeed, in fact, you could say George came to me because of magic. My wife was magical."
I grinned. "The magic of love?"
"There was that, but I am not speaking of the magic of love. I know you are aware that my son is not fully English."
"I am.”
"I wanted to travel in my youth and to see the word, so after college, I paid for a voyage. The ship was bound for China. She was a beautiful ship too. It was an exciting time."
I glanced at George, who was listening intently while watching me. I turned my attention back to Mr. Hodge.
"I traveled through China to a most lovely kingdom. It was called Goryeo by its people. While I was staying there, I came to learn then that the villagers believed that in those very mountains, lived a mythological creature; the gumiho, or a nine tailed fox. Imagine a fox with nine tails! Now I had trapped foxes before, but I had never seen one with nine tails." Mr. Hodge continued "The legend was that if the gumiho was angered, he would come out down the mountains and kill the villagers."
I tried to picture a nine tailed fox.
"I learned that other Eastern cultures have their own versions of the gumiho. Japan has the kitsune for instance, and China has the Huli Jing. Most stories though claim they start off as foxes, and can earn their human form by eating the livers of their victims."
I shivered. "Rather gruesome."
"That legend was indeed gruesome. My experience with a gumiho is much different. In fact, you could say it was a romance of epic proportions," Mr. Hodge added with a grin.
"Are you a gumiho?" I teasingly asked George.
"Indeed," George answered. "But I do not eat the livers of my lovers."
"What?!" I gasped as George winked at me.
Mr. Hodge chuckled, then cleared his throat. "George," he chided.
"It is true, though," George grinned wickedly, "about the livers."
I liked the sparkle in his eyes, even as I felt my face flame. I turned my attention back to Mr. Hodge. "How did you meet your wife?"
"I kissed her," Mr. Hodge chuckled.
***
England, 1790
The dark haired beauty sat across from Simon at the table. The cook had prepared a bountiful feast. Besides turkey, there was an assortment of vegetables. Warm loaves of bread, and freshly churned butter, the aroma making Simon's stomach rumble in anticipation.
"Oh, it looks soo delicious!" the gumiho grinned as she gazed at the food.
"It is," Simon said. "I have been told I have one of the best chefs in all of England."
"Is England the name of your home?" the gumiho asked, biting into a turkey leg.
"In a manner of speaking yes. Where are you from?"
"I was in Daegu until I was imprisoned in that painting and sent to the Qing."
Simon watched the gumiho eat, realizing he didn't yet know her name. "Do you have a name?"
"Hwa Young," the gumiho answered, as she smelled a mound of mashed potatoes before eating it.
"Hwa Young," Simon said, testing his ability to say her name correctly.
Hwa Young smiled. "It means eternal, beauty and prosperity."
"It really is a lovely name," Simon smiled at Hwa Young.