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Chapter Text

So Yong sits in the far corner of the antechamber at Daejojeon Hall, curling her legs up to her chest, hugging her knees, and rocking slightly. After being humiliated at the courtyard, and then reprimanded by her clan elders thereafter, she is at the end of her rope. Everything inside her burns to lash out.

In the dark, the room looked cavernous and unwelcoming. The flickering lights of the low lamps cast ominous shadows on the wall and on the floor. The night is quiet, as if the whole world commiserates with her own bleak thoughts. Even the servants, who would typically chat amongst themselves, are eerily quiet. 

This was to be her fate: dark, ominous and alone.

It has only been a few days since she recovered from jumping in the lake, but her clan did not waste time. Rumor has it, according to Hong Yeon, that the Kim clan, in a typical bloodthirsty fashion, were out for blood, wanting someone to take the blame for the lake incident. Her clan immediately pointed fingers at Jo Hwa Jin, who, as an eyewitness would have it, was at the lake when she fell. 

“She pushed the future queen to the lake,” they claimed. 

“Treason!” the others would assert. 

It is no surprise that the opposing Jo clan would take exception to such an accusation. Before the situation would escalate, the king intervened with a bald-faced lie. “Hwa Jin could not have been responsible,” the king objected to the accusation cheekily. “We were together that night,” he tells them. 

No, she did not push me to the lake , Soyong thought. At least that part is true. The thought of the king rushing to Hwa Jin’s defense made Soyong’s heart constrict in grief. How can he be so openly kind to Hwa Jin, and be so deliberately cruel to her?

Her thoughts drift back to the events earlier in the afternoon. So Yong cannot believe she went toe-to-toe with the Dowager Queen. The audacity! Nobody crosses her and lives long enough to tell the tale. 

What has gotten over me earlier? It's unfathomable, she thought in regretful self-admonishment.

She may not like Hwa Jin, but she cannot, in good conscience, let others take the blame for the lake incident. She jumped in that lake on her own accord. Back then, it seemed like the only choice that was hers to make. Everything else about Soyong belongs to someone else - her life, her body, her future, her heart, even her death would have belonged to someone else, but the decision to jump in the lake was hers, and hers alone. 

As soon as the king, her reprobate of a husband, dropped to his knees, begging for his lover’s life, imploring the Dowager Queen to be more merciful, it was as if her own body took control of itself. She found herself, walking forward, ready to take the punishment herself. 

Was it courage, or crazy?

While So Yong cannot bear the sight of Cheoljong on his knees, jumping on the lake was not his, or his lover’s story to tell, it was hers. It sounds twisted but she cannot let them destroy the one thing she has done for herself. She will certainly not make them martyrs out of her sacrifice either. 

So Yong thought that if her life is already forfeit, she can endure the humiliation of taking the fall for her husband who despises her, and his concubine who takes pleasure in seeing her suffer.

Definitely not courage. Most likely, crazy. She smirks in bitter self-deprecation. 

A crowd started to gather to watch the rare spectacle - a queen saving the king and her concubine. But So Yong was resolute. She stood face to face with the Dowager Queen and then dropped to her knees. 

"I was trying to take my own life," she declared with as much dignity as she could muster. It took all of her to meet the Dowager Queen’s withering glare, and not deign a look at the king or anyone else. She had no problem facing Sunwon’s rage, but she cannot bear to see pity from the onlookers' eyes, nor contempt from her husband’s. 

At that moment, humbled on her knees, telling the world how she tried to take her life was far more than she could handle…. She felt the need to own up to her actions, to show some courage, even in something as costly as defying Dowager Queen Sunwon herself.

But no good deed goes unpunished, for as soon as the king walked away with his favorite concubine, she was summoned by the Sunwon. They would depose her, the furious Dowager Queen declares. So Yong is petulant, unpredictable and defiant, a vulnerability her clan cannot afford. This was her clan - they have no tolerance for dissent, the vulnerable and those who serve no purpose.

She smirks mirthlessly; she may hold the title of the queen, but she is no more powerful than dust.

Her thoughts grow darker and darker so So Yong snaps out of it, letting her eyes dart around her chambers. Feeling a slight chill in the air, she wraps her arms tightly around her folded legs and rests her chin on her knees. She frees her mind and watches the shadows move as the light flickers. 

The events of the last few days made So Yong realize that her death would have all been for naught. Her clan would have selected her replacement before her body hit the bottom of the lake. Her atrocious clan will remain in power, and the king will probably be dancing on her grave, just to spite her. She will be mourned by her father, Byeong In, Kim Hwan, and perhaps Hong Yeon, but they will eventually move on with their lives. She will then be forgotten, and all her dreams and heartbreak will remain buried at the bottom of the lake for all eternity.

Perhaps she survived because of an unfulfilled purpose. She had to at least try to make the best of her second life, even if that excludes the one thing she’s wanted since meeting the king - his affection. If he is so determined to hate her, then so be it. They can live separate lives. Some things are written in the stars, others, scribbled in the sand.

As if summoned by some malevolent spirit, she hears Lady Choi announce her husband.

She doesn’t move. She does not have the energy for another confrontation with the king. Seeing that she has no choice, she takes a deep breath to calm her frayed nerves. It does nothing to tamp down the fury inside her; if anything, it unfurls freely like silk billowing in the breeze.

"My queen," she hears him speak behind her. "How are you doing?"

She rises to her feet and whirls around to face Cheoljong, tempering the anger, hurt and humiliation that rage inside her heart. "I am well, thank you, Your Majesty.” she replies, careful to keep her tone neutral, passive even.

When she reigns in the dark emotions swirling inside her, she meets his gaze and conjures a look of detached curiosity. "Did you need anything, Your Majesty?"

For a fraction of a second, the king looks taken aback by her impassive reply. Something earnest flashes in his eyes, but So Yong dismisses it as a fragment of her imagination. 

He must have expected a gracious Soyong , she thinks bitterly. Well tough luck, she is dead.

The king recovers quickly and his mask is back on. "I came to check on you," he says, his face is inscrutable but his tone is mild.

If she doesn't know better, she’d think he is actually concerned for her. She finds the concept of Cheoljong worrying about her well-being mildly hilarious. And yet, a small part of her wishes that he truly does. Such is the capricious nature of the heart sometimes. Hardened but hesitant, hurt but hopeful. 

She chastises her treacherous heart and bites her tongue before she says something she’d regret. "As you can see, Your Majesty, I am well" She makes a tiny flourish with her hand for good measure.

At one time, his consideration would have meant everything to So Yong. Now, she could only assume he is either wracked with guilt after her spectacular performance at the courtyard, or he is angling for something else… like checking to see what sort of sinister trick she has up her sleeve.

He doesn’t move, he simply looks at her, searching her face, as though he’s waiting for something else. His face is missing his usual contempt.

She levels him a frosty look, but keeps her tone neutral. “It has been a long day, Your Majesty, so I want to rest now."

"I heard your family wanted to depose you," he says without preamble. "Is that true?" His eyes searching hers almost looked kind. Almost.

It is her turn to be surprised. How did he find out so quickly? There are spies everywhere in the palace , says a tiny voice in her head. She schools her expression once more and deigns him what she thinks would be her most blasé look yet.

"So?" comes So Yong's retort, allowing a touch of contempt to seep into her voice. "I suppose congratulations are in order," she adds evenly. Already making plans for my replacement? she thought acidly.

This time, Cheoljong does not bother with his own mask. Genuine surprise descends on his face, and he starts toward her as if to touch her. "My queen..." He says, almost gently. Almost. 

So Yong steps back instantaneously, holding up her hand to halt him. "Please don't," she admonishes him. "If that is all you need to ask then, yes. I might be deposed soon. Happy?”

“But why? My Queen-”

So Yong cuts him off almost immediately.  “You can leave now, Your Majesty. Please. I have answered your question.” 

Cheoljong looks as though he wants to argue, but So Yong stares him down. To her surprise, he relents.

Anger and sorrow war inside So Yong. Sorrow for him. For suffering the loss of his family at the hands of her own clan. And anger that she's paying the price for something she has no control over. But mostly, sorrow over the insurmountable odds between them. 

She takes in Cheoljong’s flummoxed expression and berates herself for allowing herself to be affected by his presence, for letting her anger control her… for believing him to be a better man. She steels her will and reins in her emotions once more, withdrawing behind the fortress that is her mind.

But neither a strong will nor a sharp intellect can stop the yearning in her heart. Not wanting Cheoljong to see the sadness that overwhelms her, she turns her back on him, and makes a beeline towards her beddings. There is no need to prolong the conversation. 

Frustrated, more so with herself, than with Cheoljong, she pulls her hairpin en walk, and tosses it into the furniture closest to her. She hears the discordant clang as it hits the floor; it is an aberration to an otherwise quiet night, but the sound is so in-tune with her emotions.

She hears the quiet retreating footsteps of Cheoljong as he takes his leave, but not before he speaks in that low voice that is distinctly his. "We still need to talk."

She makes no response. She does need to justify or explain herself or her actions; she never needed to. He had made his own judgments a long time ago. 

So Yong is done talking to him. 

She is done facing a bleak future shackled to him. 

She is done being relegated to a nobody. 

She is just.... Done. 

There is nothing more left for her to give. 

Chapter Text

Cheoljong is dumbfounded. 

His thoughts, as he walks out of the queen’s chambers, are as murky as ever. He went to see the queen to get some clarity on the situation. He was almost too sure she would slip up, that she would somehow use the supposed threat of being deposed to her advantage, or to make a wimpish attempt to curry favor by using the events that transpired earlier in the courtyard.  

But she did the exact opposite.

Cheoljong prides himself on reading others extremely well. He can tell easily when someone is being deliberately deceptive. There are too many signs that give people away - the eyes, the tone, the words, the hands, the face - all of which work together in a deceitful symphony. But when he looked at the queen, he found none of the usual markers of treachery. If anything, everything about the queen screams genuine. 

She’s either a beautiful liar... Or I’m not as astute as I thought I am, he thought.

As he steps onto the pavement outside Daejojeon Hall, he feels the chilly breeze caress his face. The crescent moon is high up in the sky and his thoughts are as nebulous as the galaxy above. He could hear crickets chirping and the soft footfalls of his servants trailing him. 

His mind wanders back to the queen. He has never seen this side of her before - tactfully curt, tantalizingly cold. While he did not expect her to be so welcoming, he thought she’d at least put on that pretty beguiling mask she wears like a second skin. Saving him and the woman he loves is, afterall, one powerful leverage. Except she didn’t ask for anything. On the contrary, she dismissed him coldly like the proverbial pebble in her dainty blush-pink shoes. 

And then he remembers her eyes. They were once bright, reflective, maybe even kind, if he dares say so himself. Tonight, they changed from stormy to sad, to scathing, and then finally stoic. The image makes him shiver. He cannot help but think that he made an enormous error in judgment. That he hurt one innocent woman who was simply trying to get by. He sighs audibly. 

“Is everything okay, Your Majesty?” The voice of the eunuch jolts him back to the present. 

“Yes,” he replies. “I worry about the Queen.” The lie rolls off his tongue easily.  With that, he puts on his well-practiced facial expression of a mask, and continues to walk towards the Royal Villa, still lost in his own thoughts. 

He is still reeling from the events that happened in the courtyard earlier. The Andong Kim clan  finding more creative and sadistic ways to display their chokehold on him. Not surprising. Hwa Jin, confessing to a crime she did not commit? Not surprising either. It, however, chills him to think about what harm might have fallen on her, if the queen had not valiantly intervened. 

Valiantly? Where did that come from?  

He dismisses the thought just as quickly as it comes, but another image of the queen comes to him unbidden  - her confident gait as she sauntered forward, her calm demeanor as she took in the Dowager Queen’s diatribe, her chin raised up in subtle defiance, her grace as she fell on her knees, and her voice, clear and crisp as she begged for mercy on his behalf. On his and Hwa Jin’s behalf, to be more precise. 

Now, that was surprising. 

He didn’t even realize that she was in the courtyard; not until he heard her quiet but firm voice. “Please, I would like to speak for them,” she said. 

What fresh hell is this? he thought as she walked past him. He assumed she would stoke the fire and make the situation worse for him and Hwa Jin, but she did something completely unpredictable. 

“There is no need for punishment,” she beseeched the Dowager Queen. She took a deep breath as if to steel herself for what she was about to say next "I was trying to take my own life," she declared.

There was a chorus of gasps from people around them but the queen’s words did not register to Cheoljong right away. His ears were ringing. His insides turned to ice. No. It cannot be . She’s lying . It’s a ruse, he kept telling himself.

But as much as he wanted to believe that the queen’s actions were for show, his gut tells him otherwise. There was a genuine sincerity about her. 

It dawned on Cheoljong that, if she did in fact, make a conscious decision to  jump on that lake, then it was all on him. He vilified her, treated her in the most baleful manner. He pushed her beyond her limits just to see her break.  What type of monster would he be to push someone on the brink over the edge? 

He watched her closely, felt her humiliation, but she never looked at him. She only looked straight ahead, at the Dowager Queen who was berating her. Her eyes are sad but determined. The queen is tall and svelte, but in that moment, on her knees, her shoulders hunched, her head bowed down and her eyes pleading, she looked so small, like the fabled mouse begging the lion to spare her life. For a moment, just for a moment, he forgot his own piteous situation. He was tempted to intervene, to hold her hand, to support her and to shield her from the Dowager Queen’s wrath.

But he quickly reigned it in and hardened his resolve. I’ve no time for histrionics, he chastised himself. He cannot waver. Not now. Not ever. 

By some miracle, the Dowager Queen relented and agreed to her pleadings. For now, he thought. There will be reckoning later. 

He did not get to think about that much further because Hwa Jin crumpled to the ground the next instant. His blood ran cold and before he knew it, he scooped her up and carried her away,  but not before he stole one last glance at the queen. She seemed completely impervious to everything happening around her. She didn’t even move at all - on her knees, head bowed, shoulders hunched and her face is ever-so-placid like sculpture, but her hands, he noticed, are no longer splayed on the ground. They are balled into fists, her knuckles mottled white, and she is gripping her pale pink chima so tightly, they were practically trembling. For the second time that day, he wanted to hold her and shield her from the world.

Cheoljong is so busy reflecting on what happened earlier, that he doesn't realize he'd made it as far as the lake. It is then that he noticed servants carrying buckets. They seem to be dumping water onto the lake. 

"Are they filling the lake with water again?" He asks his head eunuch.

"Yes, your Majesty," replies the eunuch impassively. "It seems that the queen has petitioned the Dowager Queen. She was here earlier to supervise it herself." 

He stared at the vast expanse of the lake. In the dark, it seemed more ominous than it truly is. The little island at the center reminded him of that fateful night not too long ago, of a woman with sorrowful eyes, imploring him to give her a chance. Her anguish seemed so genuine, yet he was so convinced it was all pretense. 

Cheoljong saw no difference between Kim Jwa Geun and the queen - miscreants all of them. They already controlled every aspect of his life. They could even dictate how much air he can breathe, but he would be dead before he surrenders his heart. It didn't matter that the queen is the most beguiling woman he’s ever met, he vowed never show the woman any affection. So when she begged for a chance to be understood as an individual, to look beyond affinity, he responded like a common scumbag.

“Let’s not do this dance any longer” he told her. His voice low, his tone caustic. “Tomorrow, you will be queen. Powerless and without heir, but a queen nonetheless. It is late. Please go back to your bed chamber.” 

He always thought the queen was her clan’s plaything, their pawn,  meant only to seduce him, secure their power and subdue him further. But then he remembered her kneeling, pleading for mercy, asking that his life be spared.  

He plays the palace games of deception well, but what if the queen doesn’t? What if she’s as sincere as they come?  

For in truth, that rainy afternoon when he first met her, he sensed within her an enormous capacity for kindness, and he felt that he might grow to love her. It is great fortune for someone such as himself, who had once feared that love would have no place in the palace. But he squandered it, blown everything to bits…because she belongs to the clan who murdered his family. At the very least, she s complicit in the horrors wrought by her clan. He cannot let his desires for power and vengeance clash with the possible frailties of his heart

Another image flashes across his mind: So Yong flinching when he reached out, acting on an inexplicable urge to touch her. For a moment, he was tempted to comfort her. But how could he when it is he who had caused her so much sorrow? So he withdrew his hands as her dead eyes told him to back off. Her cold lifeless eyes sending chills down his spine. 

None of what happened earlier, or any other time, fits his narrative. And if it was a ruse this entire time, why then would the Dowager Queen move to depose her? 

He shudders inwardly. He is horrified to think that he could be wrong, that the queen, his wife, whom he treated so abhorrently, may actually have a heart of gold. 

His heart heavy, he glances at the lake one last time and continues on his way to the Royal Villa. 

Maybe he is right; there will be reckoning. His.

Chapter Text

A Few Months Ago 

A month after moving to the palace, So Yong receives word that her father collapsed. She is in the middle of her lessons when Lady Choi comes in. In panic, she asks to be excused from the lesson and immediately goes to see the King. She needs permission to leave the palace. The King has been increasingly cold lately, and So Yong is worried he’d decline her request. She has never visited the king uninvited before. Normally, she would write the King letters to see if he can see her.  He rarely ever replies. At best he would send for her and ask what she needs to say. “I have no time to write back. It’s better we speak face-to-face,” he would tell her. Eventually, So Yong decided not to send any more letters and focus on her lessons as future queen.

To her surprise, the king agrees to see her. Heart pounding, she enters the King’s chambers. He is seated by the table on the eastern corner of the room, but he isn’t alone. Hwa Jin is seated next to him, a scornful look on her face.  Judging by how close they are, So Yong can tell she is special to the King. She hears rumors about the King’s affection for another woman, but this is the first time she sees it with her own eyes. 

“I believe you are acquainted with Hwa Jin” he says, a condescending smile on his lips. The familiarity by which he addresses her was deliberate. So Yong feels the knife pierce through her heart. 

“Yes, Your Majesty” was all she could say. She turns to the beautiful woman next to the king and makes a polite gesture of greeting.

Hwa Jin does the same, and then turns to the king with a smile. “We’ve known each since childhood, Your Majesty,” she tells Cheoljong. The King returns her smile, warm and radiant. He twists the knife buried in So Yong’s heart. 

“Why did you ask to see me?” The king then addressed So Yong. “Tell me, as I am quite busy,” he tells her, the implication clear. He was goading her.

So Yong, bless her heart, is crushed. She clenches her fist to keep herself from shattering. It wasn't the time to dwell on her heartbreak. She has to see her father, so she shores up whatever strength she has and forges ahead. “I would like to see my Father, Your Majesty,” She says, her head bowed. “I received word that he has collapsed today.”

Her request is met with silence. So Yong thinks the king does not hear her, so she looks up to see if he is even listening. He has the habit of tuning out whenever she speaks to him. To her surprise the king is looking at her. Actually, scratch that; he is studying her. She squirms.   

“How is your father doing then?” he asks noncommittally .

So Yong does not expect the question. She is bracing for a rebuke from him. “I do not know, Your Majesty,” she answers truthfully. “My father has not been sick before,” she adds.

“That’s fine. I am a compassionate king” he tells her, his tone the farthest thing from compassionate. It is when she looks up to steal one last glance at the king and the woman he loves, does she notice the book on the table. It looked eerily familiar, but it was difficult to confirm given the angle, the distance and tears that are threatening to spill from her eyes. Before she could say anything more, she hears Hwa Jin’s voice one more time,  addressing the king as if she is no longer there. 

Feeling like the interloper, she excuses herself and leaves.

-------

To So Yong’s relief, her father’s condition is not as not bad as she fears.  It is a simple case of over-exertion. He just needed some rest, the physician advised.

In the late afternoon, when the sun was just about to set, she decides to walk around her childhood home. As a child, she spent a lot of time dreaming of the day she would be queen, itching to leave her home and move to the palace. She smiles ruefully at the memory, it belongs to a different lifetime now. 

The day So Yong was selected queen is the happiest day of her life. She now wonders if it’s a curse rather than a blessing. She is beginning to have second thoughts. But while she is tempted to walk away from it, she is too afraid to tell her father. So Yong does not want to disappoint him. She also hopes that if she excels in her lessons, the king’s attitude towards her would change. 

She then notices the well in the distance and remembers a boy from a long time ago. She recalls climbing down the dark and damp depth of the well to check on him. She brought him food and water, and sat with him. She remembers the terror in the boy’s eyes, so she kept him company, if only to ease his fears. She hands him a book and tells him to return if he lives. Feeling sorry for the boy, she asks a servant for help. Unfortunately, the servant tells her father, and before she knows it, her uncle, Kim Jwa Geun and her father seal the well, making it impossible for the boy to escape. That night was forever etched in So Yong’s memory. It was the first and only time she was disappointed and angry with her father. It opened her eyes to her clan’s atrocities; a reality that was too much for a young girl to understand. 

So Yong didn’t think she had it in her to defy her father, but guilt is a powerful motivation. So Yong enlists the help of her childhood friend, Byeong-In. He did not particularly agree to helping the boy, but Byeong-In is not one to say no to So Yong. It is, to this day, his Achilles Heel. 

So Yong stands by the well wondering where the boy is. “Did he live?” she wonders out loud. She knows he escaped, but has never heard of him ever again. 

The book on the king's table flashes through her mind. “Could it be..?” She thought. She has not seen that book in years. There is a nagging sensation at the pit of her stomach, but she dismisses it. Giving the well one last rueful glance, So Yong walks back to the house. She goes straight to her father’s room to check on him. It was already dark and he was asleep. The flames from the lamps cast soft shadows on the floor and on the wall. She peruses the room; it is smaller than she remembers.  So Yong did not grow up with a mother, but her father did everything he could to make up for it. She used to barge in on his father, in this very same room. Kim Mun Geun is a busy man, but he would stop whatever he's doing to play with her. She smiles fondly over the memories.

She walks quietly towards the bookshelf at the far end of the room. Her father is a proud collector of some old and rare books. There is a treatise on politics that she particularly likes. Her father is amused that she would even read such a book. She inspects the rest of the collection and smiles. There are a few additions to the collection so she makes a mental note to read them soon. She has fond memories of herself and her father discussing these books over dinner, or in the late afternoon when the day is over and the period of rest commences. While perusing the titles, her index finger gliding through the books, she notices a new addition to the room, a shelf with multiple drawers. Curious, she pulls the top drawer and peers into the contents. There were several books piled neatly inside. She finds it odd that her father would keep books inside a drawer. The books looked the same, and were each marked confidential. She pulls one quietly, careful not to make a noise, and browses through it. At first, she could not make sense of the contents. Each page was dated, with each entry named after her uncles. It was a record of some sort. And then it clicked. It was her clan's blackbook. 

After that night in the well, So Yong suspected that her father was involved in something shady, but she cannot reconcile such a thing with the doting and loving father that he is to her. Her hands shake as she reads through the pages. Her clan is far more nefarious than she expected.

Kim Mun Geun's room has always been off-limits. So Yong herself was rarely ever allowed in her father's room unaccompanied.  Now she understands why. 

 She opens the bottom drawer quietly and finds earlier entries. It seems that her father has been keeping these journals for years. She peers into the room to check if her father is still sleeping. Satisfied, she tears a page from one of the earlier books and puts them back the way she found them. It was less likely for her father to discover a torn page from older entries. She folds the paper neatly and hides it in her clothes. She will confront her father when his condition has improved.

She closes the drawer and goes back to sit down next to her father, intending to check on him one more time before leaving the room. However, as she sits down, she is overcome with exhaustion that she could barely hold her head up.  

She must have dozed off, and would have continued sleeping, if she is not jolted awake by a soft shuffling noise inside the room. There was no light, save for the faint light coming from lamps along the hallway. It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dark. She feels disoriented and she remembers leaving one of the lanterns lit before drifting off. This made So Yong very very alert and she felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand up. The sleep-induced haze in her mind vanishes, and she is instantly on guard. Fear grips her. She feels it. There was someone else in the room.

“Is someone there?” she calls out, speaking to the darkness. Her voice wavers a little. Everything is quiet, except for the wild beating of her heart. She reins in her fear and surveys the room, checking for something, anything, but all she sees are darkened shapes of furniture. It was then that she noticed the sliding doors - they were slightly ajar. She would never leave the door that way. Fear pricks her skin.  “I have to get out of here”, she thought. She stands up quickly and is halfway to the door when she feels it,  a cold knife by her throat, and a hand covering her mouth to keep her from screaming. He moved so quietly, so stealthily, So Yong does not notice until he was right behind her. She freezes in terror.

She hears him whisper in her ear, “Shhhhhh ''. So Yong trembles. She can tell that the intruder was much taller and much stronger than she is. He pushes her forward towards the door, the knife still in So Yong’s throat. “Shhhh” he shushes her again. 

“Please,” she begs. . So Yong wanted to see his face, or anything that would help her identify him, but it is dark, and he is behind her, so it is impossible. And then she smells something familiar… a faint scent. Something floral… but she is too terrified to think straight.  

 As soon as they reach the door, the intruder shoves So Yong towards her  sleeping father.  The force knocks her to the ground, and the blade nicks her neck. She screams.  

Chapter Text

It was past noon and So Yong could hear the soft downpour outside her chambers. Just as well . She is in no mood to meet anyone today anyway. The physical and mental exhaustion of the last few days has taken its toll on her. 

She sits by her bedside, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She frowns at the woman staring back at her. There are dark circles around her eyes and her skin is splotchy. She looks like she’s aged ten years in the last few weeks. While So Yong is not particularly vain, she has always taken good care of herself. As a (future) queen, it is important for her to look presentable at all times. The dream of being a queen was all the incentive she needed to pay extra attention to herself. 

So Yong lifts her hand to her neck to touch the tiny scar there. She angles her head and moves closer to the mirror to examine it. The wound has fully healed, but it left an indelible mark on her skin. The scar is barely visible these days, unless you know where to look. 

Why did I want to be the queen? She ponders this question everyday. Is it out of duty to her family? So Yong is, afterall, an obedient daughter. When her father started talking about the prospect of being a queen, she never questioned it. “It would be the pride of our family,” her father used to say. How can she decline? 

It isn’t because she wanted to marry a King, right?   She almost laughs to herself. That would have been so naive…. so insubstantial.  No, it isn’t because she wanted to marry a king, but then she met Cheoljong, and she realized that she wanted to marry that King. She makes a small sound of derision. Naive indeed! 

An image of a dashing young man in blue and gold, standing next to her under an awning, seeking shelter from the rain, comes to her mind unbidden. She remembers that day so vividly. She and her maid, Hong Yeon, have been, for days, trying to get a glimpse of the King. Does he measure up to the rumors? He is one handsome young man they say. But catching a sight of the King is no easy feat, and several failed attempts later made So Yong conclude that some things are just not meant to happen .

The funny thing about fate is that it can sometimes be a wicked wily witch, handing out candy-coated cruelties. On that same day, when the rain fell, and the birds sang, fate dealt So Yong a fortuitous hand: She met the King for the first time. 

So Yong thought that the greatest love stories are ushered in by the melody of a hundred gayageums , of a thousand  butterflies flitting in the air… but when Soyong met the King, everything quieted down.  The rain, the birds, the soft breeze..none of it mattered. Time and space existed only in that narrow area underneath the awning. 

The image of Cheoljong, wounded but looking imperious in blue and gold, staring back at her in the same intense wonderment, is forever burned into her memory, like a snowflake frozen in time. 

She did not, of course, realize until the day she was officially announced as the future queen, that the same man who made her heart sing, is the King himself. It must be fate, she thought happily. But that day when the whole world went silent, was the very last time she saw his kind brown eyes. As soon as her appointment was made official, Cheoljong’s cruelty began.

At first, it was the small things. He ignores her, pretends he doesn’t see her. He criticizes her clothes; “You look pale in gray,” he’d say. He orders her to stop playing the gayageum. “That’s just noise,” he tells her.  She remembers requesting an audience with the king, to understand why he’s increasingly critical of her every move. It’s bad enough that it took him days to respond, it’s even worse that he didn’t write back. He simply summoned her.  So Yong pays him a visit, but is dismissed almost immediately.  “Something urgent came up,” he tells her.

Once, she had asked for a break in her training to receive her father. Kim Mun Geun travels to the palace to see her daughter on her birthday, which coincidentally falls on the day of her mother’s memorial. The moment Cheoljong catches wind of Kim Mun  Geun’s visit, he orders additional lessons for her. His instructions were clear: she must finish her tasks that day. It was an impossible undertaking, so she sent her father away without seeing him. 

When her mother was pregnant with So Yong, she would spend time on a wooden bench by a brook near her childhood home. Every year, on her mother’s memorial, she and her father would visit that special place. On her tenth birthday, she started the tradition of carving her wish on the bench, so Mother would see it too , she would tell her father. She thought perhaps, this year she can ask her father to do it for her, but it was not to be because she was stuck with her tasks.. So Yong cried herself to sleep that night. Whether from exhaustion, the heartache of not seeing her father, or the realization that the king despises her, she cannot remember. 

And then there was Hwa Jin. The King never made his fondness for her a secret. In fact, he would make ostentatious displays of affection for Hwa Jin, whenever So Yong was around, deliberately twisting the knife he buried in her heart. 

Of course, So Yong cannot attribute her slow descent to madness to Cheoljong alone. The pressure from her clan to spy on her future husband, to produce an heir, to secure her clan’s bloodline, and the threat of being replaced if she fails, added to her already fragile state of mind. So on that fateful night, when the dark cold lake called out to her, she gave in to the only escape she thought she had. It was the only choice that was hers to make.

It is not the only choice, a voice inside her whispered. So Yong reins in her dark thoughts and pulls herself to the present. She looks at the gaunt woman in the mirror, her tears spilling over onto her cheeks. She wipes them vigorously and then clenches her fists. The woman staring back at her chose her father’s dream over her own, her clan’s pride above her well-being, and most of all she chose to love her husband more than herself.  She’s not choosing others over her again, and she will certainly not allow herself to yearn for someone so desperately again.

Coming back from the dead made So Yong realize how unchanged the world is without her. Nothing good came out of the lake incident. This made her pause and think about her purpose, about herself, about the things she can do, about the things she can leave behind when it is truly her time to leave this world.   

She realizes that when someone comes out of an ordeal, they discover hidden reservoirs of strengths they can draw upon.  She thinks back to the day she defied her father to save the boy from the well; that day she promised to be more like her mother: virtuous, compassionate, humble. Maybe it is time to embrace the other half of her, the Kim half of her: shrewd, sly, strong-willed.  She takes a deep breath and strengthens her resolve. There is nowhere to go but up . 

As if the universe agrees with her, the rain stops. She can now hear the soft chatter of servants outside.  If she had to venture a guess, she’d say the sun is almost out. She checks herself in the mirror one last time. Maybe a little fresh air will do her some good.

“Hong Yeon!” She calls out to her maid. 

In a second, the young cheerful maid enters the room. “Yes, Your Highness?” she responds eagerly. 

“Let’s go walk down the garden.” 

“The grounds are wet, Your Majesty.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Alright, Your Majesty!” She replies enthusiastically. “I will prepare what we need.” With that, she leaves the room. 

The smile her maid gave So Yong is so wide, it rubs off on her. She cannot help but smile too. 

--------

The day is still bleak, with some gray clouds scattered in the horizon. The air is full of moisture, as if the sky is about to open up again. It didn’t matter, So Yong is happy to be out. Lady Choi, Hong Yeon and the rest of the servants trail her as she walks down the small garden close to Daejojeon Hall. A stone-lined trail wends through patches of colorful flowers.  First, So Yong passes by the roses. Each row varies by size and color. Then she moves on to admire the flowers that are tipped with pinks and yellow. Further along, So Yong notices beds of other flower species. She stops to admire and smell one huge sun-bright flower, the vibrant yellow color seems to defy the gloomy weather. The bed of yellow flowers on her left reminds her of the rapeseed fields near her father’s home. When the rapeseed fields are in bloom, an entire hill is covered in yellow.  It has always been a sight to behold.  She sighs ruefully. She misses her childhood home.

Finding a nearby bench, So Yong sits down to admire the garden. She has once imagined herself and the King walking down this garden together. She smiles wryly at the thought. 

“Your Highness” Lady Choi interrupts her reverie. “Your cousin is here.”

She looks past Lady Choi and is delighted to see Kim Hwan approaching. She can see his wide smile from afar. 

“Your Highness!” Kim Hwan greets her excitedly as soon as she’s within earshot. 

“Kim Hwan-ah” She greets him back, returning his smile.  “It is good to see you, cousin.”

“The flowers are beautiful,” he points at the flower beds.  “How are you feeling? I came to visit to see how you’re doing, Your Highness.”

“I am better,” she replies kindly. She then gestures towards the benches so they can sit. “Any interesting adventures recently?” she asks.

Kim Hwan’s face lights up. So Yong can tell by his demeanor that her cousin has a lot of fun stories to share today. 

She tunes out a little bit as he regales her with his recent adventures, of his nights spent with the prettiest gisaengs at Oktajeong, or losing to Director Hong at tujeon. He rambles aimlessly, but So Yong is glad for the company. She notices of course that her cousin keeps stealing glances at Hong Yeon. She is amused to think that Kim Hwan had paid her a visit just so he could ogle her maid. 

Kim Hwan and So Yong grew up together. While her cousin is younger in age, he, So Yong and Byeong-In ran around as children by the brook close to her home. She used to outrun Kim Hwan, and can literally outplay him in any game they played. Even so, Kim Hwan loved hanging out with her and Byeong-In.

“..... and Byeong-In suspects that some of them may be hiding in His Majesty’s Royal guard…”  Kim Hwan was saying. This catches her attention. 

“What do you mean, cousin?” She asks flippantly, trying to sound disinterested but is in fact intrigued by the information. 

Her cousin, bless his heart, was only too happy to share this piece of information. Kim Hwan is not the sharpest tool in the shed, but what he lacks in intellect, he makes up for in generosity. That generosity included his penchant for sharing wildly inappropriate stories with her. The poor guy has no filter.

"I overheard a conversation about men in the Royal Guards using counterfeit identities."

Kim Hwan is generally well-liked and harmless so he comes and goes without raising suspicion. He may be naive but he is not one to fabricate such a ridiculous story. Chances are, he heard snippets of a conversation but took it out of context. Even so, So Yong suspected there is some truth to it. 

"Why do you ask, cousin?" he asks So Yong, looking very curious. 

So Yong shrugged and gave him what she hoped was a dismissive smile. "Oh that cannot be true! Stop sharing such ridiculous stories!” she says, silently willing for him to continue. People always end up doing the opposite of what you tell them to do - a nifty little trick she learned from her father.

And he did. He tells So Yong that while eavesdropping unwittingly in a conversation between Byeong-In and his powerful uncle, Kim Jwa Geun, Kim Hwan heard about counterfeit identities allegedly used by certain individuals to either penetrate the Royal Guards or are pretending to be loyal soldiers. They have yet to investigate it.

Interesting, she thought. An idea takes its shape in her mind. She makes a mental note of it.

So Yong has long suspected that there is more to the king than meets the eye. Most people would describe the king as dimwitted, spineless, awkward, and averse to warfare, but the man who seems to take pleasure in insulting her, is no dimwit. He is calculating and manipulative, for how can he appear so docile and agreeable at court, when he so cunningly finds cruel ways to hurt her? 

They continue to chat a little more until it starts to drizzle. Hong Yeon is immediately by her side to offer an umbrella and shelter her from the light rain. Kim Hwan stands up quickly, too swiftly in fact, that he has not bothered to check the ground. As he approaches her, he steps into a muddy puddle. He gives a tiny yelp of surprise as dark puddle water splatters across his immaculate clothes. The sight causes So Yong to giggle a little. She tempers it.

His face red with embarrassment, Kim Hwan jerks backward to keep his shoes from getting soaked further, only to step on a slippery wet surface, and falls, rather unceremoniously, with an undignified splat. 

This time So Yong lost the battle, she laughed, like when they were kids. As Kim Hwan slid, rather ungracefully, to the ground, his face planted on the wet dirt, she finds herself giggling like she has not in a very long time. She can see the shocked expressions of Lady Choi, Hong Yeon and the rest of the servants as they tried, rather miserably, to temper their own reactions to Kim Hwan’s very unfortunate, but rather hilarious mishap.  When Kim Hwan looks at her, his face covered in mud, she cracks up again. This time Lady Choi and Hong Yeon join her. 

If they aren’t so wrapped up in their own world, they might have seen one astonished King observing them from a distance.

Chapter Text

Cheoljong and Prince Yeongpyeong are on their way to the Royal Villa to meet Director Hong. There are too many eyes in the palace, Hong says. It is urgent, he implies in his missive. It is around noon and angry clouds are rolling in. They walk briskly and purposely towards the Royal Villa. Cheoljong’s blue and gold attire billows in the wind. They make it to the villa right before the downpour.

Cheoljong sees Hwa Jin as soon as he enters her chamber. She is wearing orange today and she looks particularly lovely. She stands up immediately to welcome Cheoljong and smiles cheerfully as he approaches. 

“Your Majesty” she greets adoringly.

“Hwa Jin.” Cheoljong greets her back “How have you been doing lately?” He gives her a quick embrace.

“Life at the palace is  treating me well, Your Majesty” she replies, her bright smile is in sharp contrast to the rain pummeling the roof. 

Yeongpyeong, who is right behind Cheoljong, gives Hwa Jin a polite bow in greeting. He smiles longingly at her. She smiles back in greeting, but turns her attention quickly back to Cheoljong.

Before Cheoljong can say anything else, Director Hong arrives. If Cheoljong does not know any better, he’d say his friend is winded from the walk. His dark clothes are also partially drenched from the rain. “Your Majesty” Hong greets, but not before he tries to catch his breath. “I have news.” 

Hong is one charming fellow. How he makes friends with different people baffles Cheoljong, but he is not one to complain as it proves to be a significant skill in gathering information. “They’re beginning to suspect our men...” Hong begins, but pauses briefly. He breathes heavily. He really is out of shape , Cheoljong concludes. He must have been spending too much time sitting down playing tujeon .  He makes a mental note to chide him on that later.  “Byeong-in seems to be looking into the counterfeit identities.” 

Cheoljong expected that. Byeong-in isn’t only sharp as a tack, he also hates Cheoljong’s guts. His forehead creases with worry. “We need to move faster." 

“It is more dangerous now,” Yeongpyeong chimes in. 

“Yes, that is why we need to move fast. We might not get another chance.” Cheoljong steals a glance at Hong who is strangely quiet. “Is there anything else?”

Hong hesitates “The Queen… Kim Jwa Geun is lining up replacements for the queen.” 

Yeongpyeong eyes Cheoljong. “They must have been furious over the stunt she pulled at the courtyard, Your Majesty. This is good for us.”

Cheoljong stays quiet. He expected this from the Kims, but the stab of worry for the queen is completely unexpected .  “The replacements are all for show. For now. They want her to know that she can be easily replaced.” 

Hong is staring at the floor, fidgeting. He seems to be contemplating whether to share more information. “Is there anything else, Director Hong?” Cheoljong prods him.

Hong regards Cheoljong warily, then Hwa Jin, then Yeongpyeong. Something tugged at Cheoljong’s heart, a sense of dread. 

“She asked to leave the palace the day before the wedding,” Director Hong says tentatively “but the Dowager Queen forbade her.”

Hong pauses for a second, watching Choljong’s reaction. “Your Majesty, if she didn’t want to marry you… maybe she isn’t the puppet we thought she is.” 

“It could be a trap,” Prince Yeongpyeong interrupts and glares at Hong. “Are you sure about this information, Director Hong? They could be using this information to draw you out, your Majesty”

Cheoljong is miffed. “Yeongpyeong, you seem to think that everything the queen does is out of malice.” 

Yeongpyeong is indignant. “Do you not remember what they did to our family?” He replies vehemently. “The queen is the heart of the Kim clan!”

“Then why would she throw her life away that day in the courtyard, or dismiss me so coldly after?” he shoots back, equally vehement. And then his voice goes soft, “I was the last person she saw the day she fell into the lake….” he lets his voice trail off. There was a faraway look in his eyes. When he speaks again, his voice is grim. “It was me. I pushed her onto that lake.”

“Your Majesty” Hwa Jin cuts in immediately, alarmed by Cheoljong’s unexpected defense of the queen “You cannot trust the queen. She is playing you.” She touches his arm for good measure. She is the last person to see the queen…. But she hesitates to tell them. She didn’t exactly lie before, but she let Cheoljong and Yeongpyeong assume that the eyewitness’ account of that night was fabricated by So Yong. 

“She would have fallen into that lake, whether you were there or not! You are going soft on her!” Yeongpyeong is exasperated that he is even discussing this with the King.

Cheoljong glowers at Yeongpyeong. “But look what she did! She chose to save her husband, and the woman he loves, but doesn’t  ask for anything in return. She did it because it was the right thing to do!”

“Do you want to continue arguing or do you want me to finish my story? Sometimes, I really don’t like either of you.” Director Hong is eyeing the brothers with open derision. 

Yeongpyeong glares at him, but this seems to have calmed Cheoljong down, who gestures for him to continue. 

Hong rolls his eyes, annoyed at his bickering friends. “It seems that Kim Jwa Geum ordered the queen to spy on you. She refused. Kim Jwa Geum threatened her...”

Cheoljong’s ears were ringing. He heard Director Hong's voice from far away. 

“When was this?”  he hears himself ask, but he is no longer listening. His mind is filled with images of the queen: her sorrowful eyes when she begs him at the lake side, her sad but determined eyes as she implores the Dowager Queen to spare his life and Hwa Jin’s, and her dead eyes as she dismisses him from her bed chamber. His head began to throb. 

Hong winces.  “That day she jumped on the lake.” 

Hong said something else but Cheoljong couldn’t hear him. He was at the bottom of the well. It was pitch black, damp, cold, and he was alone. “Then it is I who pushed her,” Cheoljong said, more to himself than to others. 

Hwa Jin touched Cheoljong’s arm again, jolting him back to the present .“Your Majesty, this could be a trick! You don’t have to worry about it until we know for sure.” Cheoljong doesn’t respond. 

“You are getting too attached to the queen, Your Majesty!” Yeongpyeong warns. “You are wavering and that is dangerous. We have no proof that any of these are even true!” He is clearly agitated. 

“Yaaaah! Are you saying my sources cannot be trusted?” Hong is indignant. His sources can be trusted. In fact, he has never provided the King false information before.

“I don’t care about the queen!” Cheoljong hissed. “I care about a woman who has no one else to turn to!  We are not the Kims, Prince Yeongpyeong. We do not prey on the weak.” 

Hwa Jin was stunned. She has never seen this side of Cheoljong before. She is furious but she thought it unwise to say anything further. The queen is even more cunning than I expected she thinks angrily.

“Your Majesty…” Prince Yeongpyeong seems to have calmed down a little, but his eyes are still blazing. “Please do not do anything until we understand the queen’s motives.”

“Motives you say…” Cheoljong thought for a moment, his eyes glazing over. “I have to go..” With that, he stands up. “Stay here with Hwa Jin” he orders his brother, not bothering to check whether he hears him or not. 

It isn’t entirely true that Cheoljong doesn’t care about the queen. On the contrary, he’s afraid that he might care so much more than he’s entitled to. He feels the shame consume him. He shudders to think that when So Yong was in the throes of despair, teetering on the edge, he pushed her. 

----

Cheoljong is on his way back to Seonjeongjeon Hall from the Royal Villa. He contemplates whether to go straight to Daejojeon, or summon the queen instead. The weather has cleared a little, but gray clouds still cover the sky. A steady breeze blows and he can feel wet specks across his face as droplets fall from trees. He can hear the squishy sound of the ground as he steps on the damp grass. 

He replays his earlier conversation with Director Hong, Prince Yeongpyeong and Hwa Jin. Remorse coiled at his heart, like a snake squeezing its prey, and his lungs burned. What had he done? He wanted to hit something. The scornful, spiteful words he'd spoken to So Yong rang in his ears. Words she'd never forget or forgive. 

He increased his speed, hoping the physical exertion would not only dull the ache in his heart, but also quiet the chaos in his head. He had a lot of things on his mind recently. From the queen, his thoughts transition to his search for the ledgers. They have raided more warehouses than they could count in the last few weeks, but have been unsuccessful so far. The ledgers remain elusive. He is getting restless, but they need to march on. He knows Byeong-In is closing in on them. Yeongpyeong’s men have been trailing high-ranking members of the Queen’s clan, but they keep coming up empty. There is no trace of the Kim clan’s blackbook anywhere. 

Cheoljong got so close to it once, in fact, he almost succeeded. He didn’t think he’d have a good opportunity to raid Kim Mun Geun’s home until So Yong presented it to him, unwittingly. Sometimes, he wonders if it would have been wiser if he just finished her off that night. The window was perfect; Kim Mun Geun was in deep slumber and  So Yong could not have put up a fight. But as he held the knife to her throat, and she shuddered in terror, his insides turned to water. He couldn’t bring himself to do it.  

Later, when Yeongpyeong asked what happened, he told him the Queen screamed so he scurried away before he got caught. The truth is he let her go, before she screamed. The lie slipped out smoothly, and he wondered why he needed to lie to his own brother. 

The failed attempt made Kim Mun Geun obsessive with security. He had his residence fortified and he increased his guards. Cheoljong suspects some of the ledgers are still in his home, but seeing how close Kim Mun Geun was to losing all of it, Cheoljong assumes he hid different volumes across different properties. Now the ledgers become more elusive, and he’s getting more agitated each passing day. 

Cheoljong continues to move stealthily along narrow passages that are rarely ever patrolled by palace guards. It is now late in the afternoon and it will be dark soon. He memorized every path within the palace walls - a useful knowledge given his penchant for clandestine meetings with Director Hong and Prince Yeongpyeong.   

The rain would have filled the lake, he thought. The Queen would be pleased . He is surprised the thought  occurrs to him, but then again, the queen seems to dominate his thoughts since that night before the wedding. He treated her so callously then. It must be some form of cosmic retribution that the lake has somehow wormed its way to his own nightmares. He dreams of the queen drowning, sinking slowly to the bottom of the lake, calling out to him. Sometimes he gets to her in time, sometimes he’s too late. Either way, he wakes up terrified and disoriented. 

As he is about to take a left, he hears footsteps heading his way, so he takes a quick right instead. He squeezes himself behind a wall and waits for the guards to walk by. Much to his annoyance, the guards stop before they pass by his hiding place. He waits quietly for a minute or two but he cannot hear anything. He wonders if they took a U-turn and walked away. Are they shirking responsibilities ? he thought. He swears he’d look for those guards and punish them later. He angles his head to peep through a small opening on the wall. Instead of guards, he is surprised to see two servants in a compromising position. He hears moaning shortly after. He jerks his head back quickly and curses silently. He will just have to take the scenic route back to Seonjeongjeon Hall today. He pivots to the right and walks down a path that will take him down a small garden adjacent to the Queen's residence.   He sighs. There is no escaping the queen; she has taken a permanent residence in his mind. She would grace his thoughts before, sure, but back then, it was much easier to push her out of his mind.

As he continues to trudge surreptitiously along the muddied, slippery paths, it starts to drizzle again. His blue and gold clothes are getting soaked. He is so busy watching the ground for puddles, careful not to slip, that he almost misses the sound of laughter coming from the garden. He freezes for a second. Laughter is rare in the palace these days. He creeps down the hedge and moves cautiously, careful not to draw attention to himself. P lease don’t let it be another pair of horny servants . He reaches the end of the path and hides behind a tree. He peers into the garden and the sight stops him dead. It was the queen. Giggling. He couldn't quite believe his eyes. The queen is surrounded by flowers, giggling, the soft rain falling on her. Her maid is frantic, trying so hard to put an umbrella over her head. The sight takes his breath away. 

He can see someone lying on the ground. The unfortunate fellow is obviously the subject of the queen’s laughter, but he could not tell who it is. He is mostly covered by shrubs and flowers. Cheoljong can only guess that the poor fellow must have been clumsy enough to lose his balance because of the wet soil. His attention goes back to the queen. 

At first she tries to cover her mouth, like the aristocratic lady that she is, but fails miserably. Eventually, the maid and the court lady end up chuckling too. Peals of laughter reverberate across the tiny garden. Cheoljong notices how the queen’s shoulders shake, her body almost falling forward, and her hands coming up to her face, as she giggles. She’s so unpredictable these days.  Cheoljong continues to watch her, entranced by her unfettered laughter. She looks happy, uninhibited, seemingly untethered by suffocating palace politics, and uncaring of the shackles of their loveless marriage. Her laughter lights up her whole face, and in that moment, Cheoljong realizes that the sound of his queen’s laughter is the only music his soul will ever need.  The thought terrifies him, so he makes a conscious effort to temper it, but then she bursts into laughter again, and all thoughts of austerity get washed away by the rain. 

Before he knows it, Cheoljong finds himself walking towards the Queen and her entourage. As soon as they spot him, the laughter disappears and the servants are back to their somber expressions. He also notices So Yong’s expression darkening. Hong Yeon and Lady Choi scutters as far as possible to make way for him. He goes straight to So Yong. She raises her chin in subtle defiance, but gives her head a tiny dip in greeting. “Your Majesty.”

He expected her to question what he was doing in the rain, or why he was coming from the other side of the garden, but she just looks at him. He takes the umbrella from Hong Yeon and shields her from the drizzle. So Yong follows the movement with her eyes, her brows knitted. Cheoljong thought it would please her, but she just looked at him, a hint of annoyance spread across her face. She doesn’t comment.

“I don’t want you to get soaked,” he says.

She purses her lips. “Thank you, Your Majesty” Silence.

Cheoljong is having a hard time making peace with this controlled, stern, and cold version of her. He remembers the mild-mannered and delicate woman and his heart aches. He decides to go for broke. “I came to apologize.”

“It’s okay. I don’t care anymore.” She gestures with her hand dismissively.

“No, I cannot turn a blind eye like this.” Of all the cruel tricks fate played on Cheoljong, the most vicious of all was him mistaking this sweet virtuous woman with beautiful eyes and too generous heart, for a vile, scheming ninny.

She gives Cheoljong a tight-lipped smile. “It’s water under the bridge, Your Majesty.” 

The insincerity irks Cheoljong. “I gathered my courage to apologize, the least you can do is to accept it graciously.”

She fixes him with an annoyed look that slowly dissolves into a patronizing smile flickering across her face. She proceeds to dip her head in an equally patronizing bow. “It’s water under the bridge, Your Majesty” she repeats, her tone dripping with sugar.  

Cheolong narrows his eyes at her, annoyed at her impertinence. 

“Is it up to the person who apologizes to dictate the terms of an apology?” she asks. This time she gives him a tiny smile. “We are okay, Your Majesty.” 

It wasn’t the smile he yearned to see, but he will take it. He knows his sins require more than a hasty apology in the rain. He gives her a tiny smile of his own. He takes her hand and he hands her the umbrella. 

“I don’t want you to get soaked,” he repeats then walks away. He is smiling all the way back to Seonjeongjeon Hall.

Chapter Text

A Few Months Ago

So Yong is annoyed at the scar that marred her neck. She pulls the mirror closer so she can examine the gash more closely. While it is almost as long as her thumb, it is not deep enough to be lethal. It has been a couple of weeks so it is almost healed.  She hopes it will heal completely before her wedding. Perhaps the scar would fade over time. She pulls up her jeogori to cover it again. 

She remembers the cold, sharp steel on her neck and she shudders in fear. There was something about the incident that nagged her. Why would the intruder be in her father’s room? There were a few valuable items missing from their storage rooms, but her father’s room was on the opposite side of the compound, it was as if the intruder specifically targeted something in that room. She is afraid to think that the target was her father, maybe even herself, but the fact that the intruder left them alive meant that he wasn’t there to kill her, or her father.  The intruder could have easily overpowered both of them, but he disappeared into the darkness. Her father's best trained servants went prowling into the night, searching for the intruder, but he disappeared without a trace. 

In the morning, her father, who woke up feeling a little better, ordered his most trusted servants to keep a tight watch of the area. Their servants have been doubling as guards for years, and were loyal to her father.  

As soon as she is back in the palace, the king pays her a surprise visit. She is seated in one of the smaller pavilions, in the middle of a lesson, when he passes by. She thought he would ignore her, as he usually does, but he takes a detour and stops by. He notices a part of the bandage peeking from her jeogori. “Are you hurt?” he asks. 

She covers the wounded area self consciously, by pulling her jeogori upward. She shakes her head. “It is nothing, Your Majesty”

“What happened?”

“It was just an accident,” she fibs, offering no details. 

The king gives her a curious look, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. The look is a complete departure from the disdainful look he usually gives her.  “Did someone hurt you? Tell me."

So Yong shakes her head gently. The less information she provides, the less likely the king will catch her in a lie. She’s surprised the king even asks about a minor injury. It’s not like he showed her any interest since she moved to the palace. 

Before she can ponder the situation further, Hong Yeon enters the pavilion to let her know that her father has come to visit.  She gives the King a questioning glance, but he says nothing. So Yong is surprised. The last time her father came to visit, the king ordered her tutors to double her lessons. It was as if he made a deliberate effort to keep her busy. 

“Shall I ask your father to come here? He is waiting for you in your quarters,” Hong Yeon tells her. “The King ordered refreshments for both of you.” 

So Yong gives Cheoljong another quizzical look. He doesn’t say anything. He just watches her with his hands clasped behind his back. So Yong turns her attention back to Hong Yeon, and asks her to escort her father to the pavilion. She is much too excited to see him. 

As soon as Hong Yeon leaves, So Yong turns to Cheoljong to say thank you. She is baffled by his sudden generosity, but she doesn’t question it. She is just too happy to see her father. 

“I will leave you to it then.” He says, then takes his leave. 

“So Yong-ah” her father exclaims as soon as he enters the pavilion. So Yong walks quickly towards him, as fast as her training on propriety would allow her to. Lady Choi was, afterall, right next to her; the woman is kind, but she’s very strict with how So Yong carries herself in public. “When a lady walks, she does not stir up the wind,” Lady Choi would say. If she doesn’t sit properly, Lady Choi would chastise her, “A woman of the royal family has the composure of Buddha. You must learn this before your wedding.”

So Yong gives her father a hug. “Have you  been here long?”

“No, I just got here. How are your lessons, So Yong?” He asks, steering So Yong towards the other end of the pavilion, and sits across her on the low table.

So Yong is tempted to tell her father of her hardships, but decides against it. She does not want to worry him. “It is going well, Father.”

Kim Mun Geun’s voice lowers to a whisper. “Is His Majesty treating you well?”

So Yong averts her eyes. “Yes, Father. He is kind.” 

“The weather is great today,” her father says, gesturing towards the beautiful open space outside the pavilion. He eyes her neck, looking concerned. “How is your wound?” 

Almost instinctively, So Yong lifts her hand and touches the small gash. She doesn’t even realize she is tracing the wound with her index finger. “It is healed, father,” she lies. “You don’t have to worry. How is your health?”

“I am strong as a bull!” Kim Mun Geun boasts, puffing his chest out for good measure. “We have started renovations on the house” he adds out of nowhere. “We need to fortify the walls to discourage intruders.”

“Are you re-building everything?”

“No, just a few walls. We’re also adding a few more storage rooms. Intruders will think twice before they come at us again, So Yong” He looks very concerned. “Are you really alright, my child?” A genuine look of worry crosses Kim Mun Geun’s face. “I cannot bear to think what that thief could have done to you!”

So Yong remembers the night the intruder came and she shudders. She remembers the fear at the pit of her stomach, and the cold feel of steel on her neck.  She puts on a brave face to reassure him. “But nothing happened. It is just a small cut. There is nothing to worry about.”

Kim Mun Geun does not look convinced. “We never caught him, he disappeared into thin air. It’s probably connected to the other raids. It’s been escalating recently.”

“Father, what was stolen that night?”

Kim Mun Geun gives her daughter an account of what the thieves took with them. Judging from the missing items, he suspects there are four or five of them that night.

So Yong makes a mental inventory of the stolen items. “They are all from the storage rooms, on the other end of the property, Father. So three or four thieves rob the storage area, and one goes to your room, across the yard?” 

Her father strokes his chin with his right hand and leans forward conspiratorially.  “What are you trying to say, So Yong?”

“Is there anything valuable in your room, aside from your rare book collection? Father, the storage rooms have more silk and gold than the intruders can carry on their backs. Why would one of them go to your room on purpose? He must be looking for something specific.”

“Do you think it was an assassination attempt?” 

“I don’t know.” So Yong answers truthfully, her brow furrows. “If it was, he would have killed us the moment he entered the room. We were both sleeping, it would have been so easy.”

“There is nothing valuable in that room, at least nothing more valuable than what they can find in the storage rooms.” Kim Mun Geun avoids her daughter’s eyes. “But I have moved some of our valuable items somewhere else,” he adds. “We need extra precaution.” So Yong remembers the ledgers she saw that night, and wonders if her father has moved those too. She was about to ask, but she’s interrupted by the head eunuch’s voice, announcing the King’s arrival.”

“Your Majesty!” Kim Mun Geun greets the king. He thanks him profusely for his generosity. 

“Of course. It is only right. You are my future queen’s family” he says, smiling disingenuously. 

They exchange pleasantries for a little while, until the King says, “I hope you have enjoyed your visit today, but I need to speak with the future queen now.” Her father leaves thereafter. He then asks everyone to stay back and give him and So Yong some privacy. 

It would be the first time, since that day when they met as strangers, under the awning, on a rainy day, that the King would speak to her openly. So Yong is anxious. Something is off, she thought. 

“How was your father’s visit?” he asks when they are alone. 

“I am happy to see my Father, Your Majesty,” So Yong replies. They were seated face-to-face. A servant arrives and serves them tea. After it was deemed safe, the king orders them to leave. He pours tea into So Yong’s cup and then into his own cup. “I thought you’d want some tea,” he says. 

“Thank you” So Yong replies, and takes the cup. She can smell the sweet aroma of flowers. It smells clean and fragrant, but not cloying. The scent evokes something in So Yong’s memory, but she cannot seem to place it, like a phantom skittering at the edge of her consciousness. It continues to evade her. 

“Please drink,” the king tells her. He smiles, and it warms So Yong’s heart. She takes a sip. She can taste the delicate and subtle flavor, with a hint of floral and a touch of sweetness. “How is it?”

“It’s sweet, with a touch of floral” she replies, giving the king a tiny smile. “What is it?”

“It’s jasmine tea. I like this tea. It's relaxing. I thought you might appreciate it after all the grueling lessons.” He takes another sip, his eyes never leaving her.

Jasmine, So Yong thought. It seemed so familiar, yet so foreign to her. She is beginning to feel relaxed, much too relaxed in fact, as if she is losing muscle control. 

“Are you alright?” the king asks. Whether he’s concerned or just curious, So Yong cannot tell. She is suddenly feeling dizzy, maybe even confused.

She almost topples over, but the king moves so quickly, he catches her. “What did you and your father talk about?” he whispers. 

“I don’t… I don't...feel well,” So Yong slurs. The king is right in front of her, his hands holding her wrists so she wouldn't collapse on the floor. 

“Where are the ledgers now?” he asks. “Your father moved them.” 

The king’s questions do not register to So Yong. She is feeling all warm inside, her thinking is muddled, and she feels completely off-kilter. She tries to stand to get some help from the servants but they are too far to even notice. She pulls her arms violently, but the king’s grip is too strong, and she is too woozy. 

And then she hears it… 

“Shhhh.” The king shushed her softly, trying to calm her. She feels like choking. 

 “Shhhhh.” She remembers the faint smell of jasmine that night. She trembles.

“Shhhhhh.”  She recalls the timbre of the intruder’s voice. She feels a smothering sensation. 

It clicked like a specter suddenly taking form. 

“It was you,” she says, but her tongue is made of jelly, so it comes out unintelligible. “You were there to kill me” she wanted to say, but the words get lost in the haze inside her head.

Everything around So Yong is spinning. When her vision tunnels, she gives in to the pull of gravity. The last thing she remembers is the king sounding the alarm, and calling the servants. 

In the morning when Lady Choi and Hong Yeon ask her what happened, she says she cannot remember. 

When the king asks her the same question, she lies. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I don’t know what came over me. I don’t remember much  after my father left.”

Chapter Text

“The Queen is so weak!” the Dowager Queen exclaims. She is exasperated. She is seated in her chamber, talking to her younger brother. The room is awash in sunshine. A blind servant is giving her shoulders a good massage. It is early morning and the palace is abuzz with rumors regarding the queen’s mental state. She is losing her mind, they say. 

“Do not worry,” his megalomaniac of a brother placates her. “We have two other candidates ready to take her place.”  

The Dowager Queen motions for the servant to massage her lower back. She complies almost immediately. She likes this servant. She is blind, deaf and chooses not to speak, so she’s practically mute too. “What if Hwa Jin conceives before she does? The queen puts the kingdom at risk!” Sunwon is one of her moods.

“Then we will make sure that won’t happen,” he replies confidently. Menacingly.

“The king is very fond of his concubine.” She observes. “Maybe we should even out the playing field?” There was a wicked twinkle in her eyes. “Let’s give the queen a… how shall I say it, an incentive?” 

Kim Jwa Geun likes where this is going. “What do you have in mind, Your Highness?” 

----- 

So Yong finds herself walking towards Tongmyeongjeon Hall. She cannot believe she is being summoned so early in the morning. Minutes later she finds herself face to face with the Dowager Queen. Her powerful brother, Kim Jwa Geun, is there too, seated next to So Yong, his face an unreadable mask. So Yong never liked either of them, but she is forced to make nice, if only to keep her head attached to her body. 

“How are you feeling?” Sunwon asks So Yong. She doesn’t really care about her condition, judging from her clenched jaw and furrowed brows. 

“I am doing so much better, Your Highness.”  

“How is your husband?” the male Kim asks her, not even bothering to look at her. He looks bored with the conversation. So Yong knows he isn’t really asking how the king is doing, he just wants to know if there’s anything that’s worth reporting. 

“I have not seen him in a few days,” she replies truthfully. 

“You need to produce an heir before Hwa Jin does.” the Dowager queen tells her. “A queen is no good without an heir” 

So Yong wants to laugh. The only way for that to happen is if one, there is a miracle; two, there is a miracle and three; and there is a miracle. She keeps the irreverent comment to herself and instead says, “Yes, your Highness.”

“I will have the king sleep in your bedchamber in the next 7 nights,” she declares. 

You can make it seventy days, and it still won’t make a difference , she quips silently. But she cannot imagine spending  seven straight nights in hostile silence with the king, so she tries to negotiate: two nights with the king, a two-night break, and then another two nights together. She would need time to recuperate, she tells the Dowager Queen. 

“Eight nights then. Non-consecutive, but eight nights” the Dowager queen tells her. So Yong agrees. 

“An heir will assure your safety” Kim Jwa Geun tells her tonelessly.  It wasn’t a kind comment. Far from it. “Yours and your father’s” he adds. It was a veiled threat. He was burning something on the brazier. So Yong recognized it.  It was the piece of cloth she embroidered before jumping into the lake. It sent shivers down her spine. She can only nod. 

“One more thing,” the Dowager Queen interrupts her thoughts. “We need to select more concubines for the king. Is that something you are capable of doing? 

“Yes, Your Highness.” 

-------

So Yong slumps on a cushion as soon as she’s back inside Daejeojeon. She props her elbows on the low table and drops her chin on the palm of her hand. It is quite unbecoming of a queen to slump the way she did, but she is furious.  The devil works hard, but her clan works harder. Those two lunatics will get what’s coming for them, but for now she needs a plan and quick. 

At the corner of her eye, she notices Hong Yeon looking flushed, a tiny smile playing on her lips. “What’s with the smile Hong Yeon?” 

At the question, she schools her expression and bows her head. “It’s nothing, Your Highness”

If anything, her face turns bright scarlet. So Yong is amused. “Tell me.” 

“I.. I saw Director Hong earlier, Your Highness.. Director Hong, and, and, and Prince Yeongpyeong were.. Were.. were..on the way to Seonjeongjeon Hall.”  Realization hits So Yong. Could it be that her young innocent maid is carrying the torch for the director? Why else would she stutter and flush crimson at the mention of the Director’s name?

She chooses not to tease her and instead ask, “On the way to Seonjeongjeon Hall, you say?”

Her maid nods, probably relieved to hear a change in topic. For the longest time, So Yong walks on eggshells around the king's close circle of friends. They watch her like a hawk, stalking, waiting, hoping for her to fail, to slip up. An idea comes to her mind and she smiles wickedly. Fear gives bullies power. She will cower no longer.  

She stands up all of a sudden, and brushes an imaginary crease from her impeccable silver gray chima. “Hong Yeon-ah! We’re going to Seonjeongjeon Hall!”

She walks purposely towards the sliding doors before she can change her mind, leaving a dumbstruck Hong Yeon to trail behind her.

--- 

The servants are shocked to see So Yong at Seonjeongjeon Hall. She is not one to come unannounced before. Well, that was before.  She gestures at the Head Eunuch not to bother announcing her presence. His eyes widen in abject surprise. For split second he seems to weigh his options. She gives him a don’t-even-think-about-it look worthy of the Dowager Queen.  He scurries to open the sliding door for her. 

So Yong squares her shoulders and pushes inside.  When she enters the king’s chamber, the first thing she notices is Jo Hwa Jin in bright pink, followed by Prince Yeonpyeong in his royal guard garb, then Director Hong in that black outfit of his. So Yong cannot even remember what he does. She makes a mental note to find out soon. 

Well, if she’s being honest, her husband is the first thing she notices. It’s hard to miss him, especially in that crimson royal robe of his, plus, she may have come back from the dead slightly different, but her heart remains as traitorous as ever.  

They were seated across the table, Cheoljong on the far end, Hwa Jin on his left, Yeongpyeong on his right, and Hong was right next to the Prince. They jumped in surprise at the sight of her, like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar. It was such a hilarious sight. She wants to laugh, but chooses instead to keep her expression neutral, prudent.

Cheoljong immediate leaps to his feet to greet her. “My Queen, to what do I owe this pleasure?” It is a sleight of hand, she concludes, as she notices Yeongpyeong slide something stealthily under the books on the table. Hong, Yeongpyeong and Hwa Jin get to their feet shortly after.  

So Yong gives Cheoljong a coy smile, “Can’t a Queen come visit her King?” 

She doesn’t give him a chance to answer. She gestures at the assortment of books and papers on the table. “You seem busy.” 

It is Hong who speaks up. “Ah yes, Your Highness. We were discussing the recent flooding, caused by the heavy rains. His Majesty is worried about people in the low-lying areas.” 

Nice save. Smooth. So Yong thought.

“What kind of King would I be if I didn’t care for my people?” Cheoljong weighs in. So Yong resisted the urge to roll her eyes. How can they win against their enemies, if they are this transparent? She almost feels sorry for them.

“Shouldn’t you be at the Daejojeon, recuperating?” Hwa Jin interjects insolently. 

“Shouldn’t you be at the Royal Villa, knowing your place?” So Yong shoots back with a smile. There was a time when So Yong would let her impertinence pass. Those days belong to the bottom of the lake.

Hwa Jin’s nostrils flare. She narrows her eyes at So Yong but is wise enough not to say anything further. At the corner of her eye, she can see Hong’s mouth shape into an O. If she turned her head just a little bit, she would have seen Cheoljong’s jaw drop on the floor. She's almost hoping for him to reprimand her. Almost. 

The prince had a murderous look on his face, but she far outranks him so she doesn’t bother dignifying his plebiean reaction with anything. 

An awkward pause. She regards each of them with a tight smile, her chin raised ever so subtly, her posture regal, a little trick she learned from the Dowager Queen herself. She knows they were sizing her, wondering why she would so rudely barge into Seonjeongjeon Hall unannounced. She lets them stew for a few heartbeats. Speech is silver, silence is golden. 

“I don’t want to take more of your time. Carry on. The people affected by the floods are waiting for you.” She says finally.  

She makes a move towards the doors, but turns towards Yeongpyeong and Hong at the last minute. “Prince Yeongpyeong, Director Hong, I never got to thank you for pulling me out of that lake. Why don’t you join me by the garden for some tea, tomorrow afternoon?” Every woman should have bright smile in their arsenal, and she flashes one of her most beguiling smiles to Yeongpyeong and Hong. 

Shock colors their features. She is tempted to reach out and close their gaping mouths. At the corner of her eye, she sees Cheoljong open his mouth, as if to say something but decides against it at the last minute. What a band of oddballs, So Yong thought. She resists the urge to chortle.

It is Hong who recovers quickly, “Thank you, Your Highness. That is a very kind offer, but anyone in that situation would have done the same. It will not be necessary.”

Using the same words, the same patronizing line Cheoljong used earlier, she says, “What kind of queen would I be if I didn’t care enough to say thank you?” 

She gives a polite nod to Jo Hwa Jin; she wanted to gouge the insolent woman’s eye out, but she’s no shrew. She turns to her husband and smiles furtively.  “Your Majesty,” she holds his gaze for a few heartbeats, almost daring him to rebuke her. A part of wished he did. She needed an excuse to put them in their place.

When Cheoljong remains quiet, she whirls around and walks towards the exit, her head held high, leaving four people with their jaws on the floor. 

It was only when the sliding doors closed behind her that she allows herself a smile. She remembers her father’s words.  Keep your enemies guessing, be unpredictable.

Chapter Text

A Few Days Before the Wedding

It was a few days before the wedding when So Yong is summoned by the king. The Head Eunuch has personally come to collect her from her private residence. She doesn’t know what to expect, but if the last few months are any indication, she knew the king didn’t summon her for a romantic afternoon tea.

The king is seated by his throne, reading a book when she arrives at his chamber. There are several books on his desk, piled neatly. “We will be married in a few days,” he says, closing the book he’s reading.

“Yes, Your Majesty” came So Yong’s meek reply.

“I was told you excelled in your lessons” he says matter-of-factly, but there is no congratulatory hint to his tone. “You must have been very diligent.” He places the book he was previously reading on top of the pile. There is one other book on his desk, and he traces the edges absentmindedly.

So Yong nods and murmurs her thanks.

He continues to speak, in hushed tones this time, as if he doesn’t want the servants on the other side of the door to hear what he was about to say.

“Come closer,” he commands, so So Yong takes a few steps forward bracing herself for whatever the king is about to tell her. This gives her a better view of the books and scrolls on his table.

“I summoned you here for two things: One, you understand that this is a wedding on paper only? You get the title of Queen, of course, but nothing more.” He proceeds to tell her that he does not intend to fulfill his role as husband. His tone wasn’t snide, or caustic or derisive. It wasn’t even cold or resentful. It was  pragmatic, detached, indifferent, as if he was simply talking about the weather, and not breaking her heart. 

A horrible twisty feeling coiled in So Yong’s stomach. It was similar to the feeling when she comes down from a wrong jump at the neolttwigi. That terrifying, sinking sensation before she hits the ground flat on her face. Hurt and embarrassment crawled up her throat, filling her eyes. “You Majesty…” She raised her head to look at him, but he isn’t even looking at her. He is staring at the book on his table and tapping his fingers.

Something in the book looked familiar. She wipes the tears that blurred her vision so she can see it better. The king opens the book, and as he turns the cover, So Yong catches a glimpse of it. “That book….” She blurts out, refusing to believe her own eyes. Her blood turns to ice. 

He continued to turn the pages of the book, almost absent-mindedly, like she is no longer there. “That book, Your Majesty…”

“It is Lady Jo Hwa Jin’s. It was a gift from a long time ago” he says. He closes it and gives her a bored look. “Ah, I remember. After the wedding, I need you to announce Lady Jo Hwa Jin as the Royal Consort”  

A whirlwind of emotions runs through So Yong: anger, hurt, betrayal, confusion. She clenches her fists, tempted to lash out but thought the better of it. She slackens her hands quickly and takes a step back, almost imperceptibly.

“That would be all. Good luck with your final lessons tomorrow.” With that he closes the book and takes a scroll and opens it. She is clearly dismissed.

Chapter Text

Cheoljong is counting the hours before the sun sets. The Dowager Queen orders him and the queen to sleep in the same room for non-consecutive eight days. He found the arrangement odd, but he knows better than to question such orders. He knows very well what the Dowager Queen is up to - they are desperate for an heir to secure their power. Ordinarily, this would irk him, but for the first time, he finds himself not particularly averse to her diabolic schemes. He needs a good excuse to see the queen.  He tells himself it’s because he wants to ask her a few questions, but he also recognizes that a small part of him just wants to see her. 

He is also annoyed at the snooty little trick the queen pulled earlier, showing up unannounced and ruffling feathers. Cheoljing never thought his once-meek wife could be so mischievous. If he is being completely honest, he can live without her smug smile, but it was refreshing to see her so confident, so brazen, maybe even a little unhinged. But as a queen, she has a permanent target on her back, she doesn’t need to be courting more enemies. There is also that invitation for tea; Prince Yeongpyeong is outraged while Director Hong is charmed. It rankles Cheoljong that she would so boldly invite Hong and Yeongpyeong, but not have the basic courtesy to extend the invitation to him.  

He sighs. The Head Eunuch enters his bedchamber. It must be time for him to get ready. 

He’s practically humming, and a little intrigued by the version of So Yong waiting for him - will she be cold and curt like that night she dismissed him from her bedchamber, or sly and smug like the woman from earlier? What he wouldn’t give for it to be the woman with twinkling eyes - the one he met fortuitously under an awning as he takes shelter from the rain.

----

Cheoljong and So Yong are seated across from each other, a low wooden empty table separates them. If So Yong isn’t so resentful, the room lit by lamps would have seemed so romantic.  

“Are you having tea with Prince Yeongpyeong and Director Hong tomorrow?” Apparently, Cheoljong cannot let it go. 

“Do you think it’s inappropriate?” She throws the question back, wondering why he is even interested. 

Yes. “No.”

She shrugs dismissively. “It’s a gesture of gratitude. They saved my life, the least I could do is to offer them tea.”

He lets it drop. “How about we play a game?” Cheoljong suggests. 

It is difficult to say what he is thinking, but his expression is mild, teasing even. “Well, we have nothing else to do tonight anyway,” she agrees, but she keeps her guard up.

The king gives her a tiny smile. Perhaps a genuine one. He then proceeds to call on the servants, and in comes an assortment of food.

“What are these?” she asks, clearly surprised. 

The servants continue to put various food items on the low table. She can smell the sweet aroma of the of pastries. She also eyed the delicacies on the far end of the table. First she is impressed, then she is suspicious. The king never paid her any special attention before, in fact, he used to avoid her like the plague. So what’s this for? What is he up to? She looks away from the tiny feast and gives Cheoljong a questioning look, her right eyebrow raised. He seems pleased with her reaction. 

Then came the servants carrying jars of… wine? 

She narrows her eyes. This is most definitely suspicious. She waits for the servants to leave the room before saying anything. “Your Majesty, you are not trying to poison me, are you?” She says it with humor but it falls flat. 

If the king is offended, he makes no show of it. He merely shakes his head. He takes the wine and pours it into a cup and positions it directly in front of her. He takes another cup, pours wine, and places it on his side of the table.

“I did not agree to this,” she clarifies. So Yong does not drink. She knows she will only lose the game and she doesn't like losing, not to her cousins, and certainly not to the king. 

“Oh but you did, My Queen.” 

“What is this game?” she asks instead.  

“I ask you to tell me something, and you answer truthfully,” he says. If you don’t want to answer, you must drink.” He pauses and looks at her, perhaps to check if she has any dissenting opinion. “One question only. If you want to ask a follow-up question, you wait for another turn.” He pauses yet again to see if she’s following. “In return, you get to ask me any question too. If I don’t care to answer, I drink.”

Oh this is very tempting, she thought. “How would I know you’re telling the truth?” she asks. If anything, she knows all too well that the king cannot be trusted. 

He laughs, a soft calculated laugh that does not quite reach his eyes. “A king does not lie” comes his smug response. 

So Yong considers it for a moment. She wants to ask if the rumors about the counterfeit identities are true. That information would be useful for her down the line. She always wanted to know why he was so cruel to her, didn't she?  She might not get another chance. Furthermore, what could he possibly want to know about her? The thought somehow thrills her, but she pushes it down. Stop it , she berates herself by softly hitting the part of her chest right above her heart. 

He cocks one dark brow in a mildly inquisitive manner. She doesn’t acknowledge the unspoken question.

“Alright, Your Majesty.” 

“You start, My Queen.” He tells her. 

“Tell me why you want to play this game, Your Majesty.”

“I want to know you better” he responds in a heartbeat. 

Oh he’s good, So Yong thought. Truthful but evasive. The answer did not really give her anything. That sentence is missing the “why”. He wants to know me better because…? He’s after something, So Yong concluded. Two can play this game . Before she can ponder his motives further, Cheoljong asks his first question, and he goes big right away.

“Tell me why you intervened in the courtyard.” His face is an unreadable mask. 

So Yong schools her expression to make sure she has an equally nonchalant face. She gives him an evasive answer of her own. “It was the right thing to do.” It was.. but it’s also missing the “why.” It is her turn to ask. 

Cheoljong picks up one of the delicious-looking pastries and takes a mouthful. Against her better judgement, So Yong follows the movement with her eyes. There is a speck of sugar on his lips and she is tempted to reach out and wipe it off. He always had nice lips. 

She wills herself to look away but fails. He is busy polishing the pastry so So Yong steals another glance at his face: high cheekbones, long black lashes,  strong jaw and then his lips… she stares at his lips one more time and wonders if they were soft. 

She stops herself and looks away immediately, just in time before the king looks at her. Feeling a little hot, she fans herself with her hands. She can feel the heat rising to her face so she pretends to look at the scrumptious assortment in front of her.

“It's your turn,” he says, seemingly unaware of her ogling earlier. 

So Yong wants to ask him so many things, a few personal ones, but that would imply she still cares for him. She doesn’t want to anymore. She knows very well that to know someone is to care for them, and she’s done with that. She goes for something neutral instead. “Tell me how you and Director Hong became friends.”

Cheoljong isn't expecting that . It is a banal question and it annoys him. She wasted her turn. She could ask him anything she wanted, but instead opted for something so inconsequential. She is avoiding the elephant in the room . A part of him is even more irritated over the possibility that she really isn’t interested to know him better. But fair is fair, and he will not break the rules of his own game, so he tells her how he met Director Hong when he was younger, how they’d swim in the ocean and how they used to chop wood together. This seems to have put her at ease. Her expression is no longer severe and the walls she built are no longer as opaque.  It hurt him to think that she might never let him in again.

“Tell me your favorite game when you were young,” he asks. He only meant to put her at ease so he can ask more delicate questions later. Much to his chagrin, he discovers that he really wants to know what her childhood was like.  And just like that, her mask comes and she looks at him in utter surprise. She did not expect that question , he thought. Good.

She could not help it, she smiles. She had so many fond memories with Kim Hwan and Byeong In growing up. It made up for the times when she yearned for a mother.  She told him about how she, Kim Hwan and Byeong In would race down a tiny path in between fields of rapeseed flowers. She told him about  the rapeseed flowers that covered everything the eye can see, about fields and rolling hills of yellow. She told him about a small path between the fields, about days where, unbeknownst to her father, he, Kim Hwan and Beyong In would go racing, about  Kim Hwan never winning the race, but enters the race just the same. She told him about rushing home and  cleaning up before her father sees her all scrappy and dirty from playing under the sun. 

He feels a searing stab of jealousy whenever she mentions Byeong In. He doesn’t like it when her eyes twinkle talking about him.  He noticed how her face lights up when she talks about home. She really is beguiling, he thought. He noticed how soft and clear her skin is. He noticed her dainty hands. He noticed a tiny mole on her cheek. His attention fixates on the barely-visible scar on her neck and it breaks his heart. He then wonders what it would be like to kiss that scar and drive the hurt away.

Cheoljong is so entranced by her, he does not realize she threw the question back. “What was yours?”

“Hmmmmmm?”

“What was your favorite game when you were young, Your Majesty?” She repeats the question. Her eyes twinkle and his heart sings at the sight. 

He shakes off his lecherous  thoughts and scolds himself for allowing his mind to venture into a very dangerous territory. This easy banter between them is no man’s land for Cheoljong.

“Your Majesty?” she prods. 

He goes for honesty. “I don’t remember much of my childhood”

“Oh” she says and she looks down clearly embarrassed, maybe even horrified for asking such a question. His family’s misfortunes are no secret. “My apologies, your Majesty” she says and purses her lips. The movement, almost imperceptible, drives Cheoljong crazy. As soon as he looks at her lips, his thoughts go back to the same dangerous territory. He takes a drink. He knows it’s not part of the game, but he needs to calm down, to find balance. He’s now out of his element. The queen, it seems, has that effect on him.

The queen stares at him, an unspoken question in her eyes. “Just thirsty,” he say in jest. In jest? Since when does he speak to the queen in jest? A small smile is back on the queen's face. It made him so happy to know that it was he who made her smile. “Are you not thirsty, My queen?” he teased. 

“You will not get me intoxicated tonight, Your Majesty” she says haughtily, but there is humor in her tone.

He pours wine into her cup, daring her to drink. She does. Cheoljong then refills his own cup and drinks. Without saying anything, he pours her wine again. He can see the hesitation in her eyes, so he goaded her. "You don’t think you can handle it?” She takes the cup and drinks.  Cheoljong smiles, despite himself. 

Cheoljong is annoyed to discover that he really wanted to know a little more about his queen, so he  finds himself asking banal questions too. They trade a few more questions, until Cheoljong decides it is time to address the elephant in the room. 

“Tell me. Why do you think it was the right thing to do to save me and Hwa Jin?” He asks seriously. As soon as the words are out, her expression darkens, her walls are back up and her posture turns stiff. She doesn't reply, instead she takes the cup in front of her and drinks. 

“Tell me, Why do you want to know me, Your Majesty?” She doubles back on her earlier question too. Gone was the light teasing quality to her tone. It isn’t cold, but it isn’t warm either. 

“You are my queen,” he says gently. “If we are to be King and Queen, we should at least know a little about each other.” He doesn't realize how much he meant the words until he utters them. He can, however, tell by the expression on her face that she is unsatisfied by the answer. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. The cold, unfeeling expression on her face says it all.  He goes on to ask another serious question, “Tell me you didn’t tell the Dowager Queen that Hwa Jin pushed you onto the lake. She was nowhere near the lake that night.” Cheoljong isn't sure she wants to hear the answer, but he needs to. If the queen isn't lying, then Hwa Jin is. 

Cheoljong does not get the answer he wanted. In fact, he doesn’t get an answer, her expression simply turn thunderous. If she was annoyed by his previous question, this one incensed her. But again, she chooses to keep silent. She grabs the cup he just filled with wine, and tosses it up. The wine, as it turned out, burned  like fire down her throat. She motions for him to fill it again but he hesitates. He knows the queen was no drinker and he worries she’d get sick later. She glares at him. He relents and pours wine onto the empty cup. She tosses it up as soon as it’s filled. 

Cheoljong is starting to believe that his wife had nothing to do with the fabricated evidence against Hwa Jin. In fact, he is afraid he would believe anything the queen would tell him. Did Hwa Jin lie to him? She implied she wasn’t in the lake, and he believed her.  If she was, did she leave the queen there, knowing she fell into the lake, knowing she could drown? He needs to hear the queen say it. He needs to know what is going on inside her head. He is getting frustrated too, but he needs to get answers.

It is her turn to ask again, “Tell me, Your Majesty, have I ever wronged you?” Her voice is small.

She isn’t looking at him, she just stares blankly at her cup, her body rigid. She has the same frighteningly placid expression she had at the courtyard. 

No. "You tell me ," he prevaricated. It was a cop out but he is getting agitated. He jerks the cup from the table and drains it dry. Unsatisfied, he pours another. The queen remains as still as a sculpture. She is just staring at her cup. It is empty so he fills it again. The queen doesn’t wait for his question. She takes the cup and tosses it up again. She puts the cup back on the table and resumes her earlier rigid position. He pours wine onto her cup again. She takes it and drinks again. She is looking flushed; he knows the wine is taking its toll on her. He sets the bottle aside, making a mental note to pour any more wine to her cup.  

Cheoljong steals a glance at her. The empty expression on her makes his heart ache.

“I tried to be the perfect daughter, to make my father happy.” She speaks haltingly. 

Cheoljong doesn’t say anything. 

 “I endured your cruelty, to bring honor to my family.”

Another pause. She was staring at the now empty cup in her hand, looking pensive, detached, solemn.

“I did everything to be the perfect queen, to please you. I thought maybe I would be enough.” Her tone was neither resentful nor malicious. She simply looked resigned, distant, unfeeling. 

She pauses yet again.

“But when I was drowning in that lake, none of you were there for me.” 

Who is this woman, Cheoljong thought. Her face lost the animation he is so used to. Her eyes that once twinkled are so lifeless, they don’t seem to belong to the same woman he met that rainy afternoon a long time ago. It was, as if, something inside her had died in that lake. Dark emotions raged inside Cheoljong with so much force, he didn’t know how to deal with them. He is no stranger to loss, or heartbreak, or grief, or all three combined, but So Yong’s words plunged him into an emotional chaos he’s never experienced before.

He moved as if to approach her and began to speak, his voice low and reverent.”My Queen….” 

“Don’t.” Her eyes, now laser focused and alert, are staring at his imploring eyes. Anguish ripped through Cheoljong’s heart as he watched her slip behind the icy barrier that kept him from reaching her. They are silent for a while, lost in their own stormy thoughts. 

The tension in the room is so thick, Cheoljong could cut it with his sword. He casts a glance at his wife who remains as still as a statue. She keeps shutting him out, and it felt like being locked outside the door on a cold winter night. He wanted to go back to their easy banter earlier. Never mind that he had a few more questions to ask. It didn’t matter anymore. He’d believe everything she would tell him. 

So Yong is furious, but more to herself than to the king. They were doing so well earlier, miraculously well in fact, that she let her guard down. Again. What a fool she is to assume this was an olive branch. 

She’s also starting to  feel warm and lightheaded. Her body is feeling a little heavy too.  Good, she thought. It will be easier to sleep next to her lowlife husband. She grips the table so she doesn't slump or worse, topple over. She notices the king filling his cup again.  A heartbeat later, he reaches for it, and drinks the bitter liquid. It incensed her. She wants to tell him off, but she’s now finding it difficult to think straight. 

"Tell me why you wanted to be queen" she heard him ask. His voice low, his tone curious. So Yong knew he was trying to dull the tension between them. The accusatory edge was gone.

  "I…" she started but could not seem to find the right words. "I want to make…" she slurred. She tried to gather her wits but her alcohol addled-brain refused to cooperate. She takes a deep breath ".. a difference. I want to be remembered"

She realizes she needs to lie down. She surveys the room and sees the bedding that Hong Yeon prepared earlier.  So Yong stands up and steps towards the direction of the bed, but the room is spinning. She closes her eyes for a second to ground herself but it is of no use. Her body turns to liquid, and she braces herself for the fall. It never came. The last thing she remembers is a strong arm around her waist and a warm shoulder cradling her cheek,  and then the world turned black. 

------

Cheoljong catches So Yong before she could hit the cold floor. As he carries her towards the beddings, it occurrs to him how much lighter she is than he anticipated. He lays her on the bed, and tucks her in. He extinguishes the lamps, save for one at the farthest corner of the room, and climbs onto the bed himself. He steals a glance at her sleeping form; she is lying on her back sleeping soundly. Satisfied, Cheoljong stares at the ceiling and waits for sleep to take him.   

A moment later, the queen turns on her side, towards Cheoljong. Her right hand, previously hidden under the covers, is now exposed. He moves quietly, careful not to wake her, to tuck her in again. He takes her hand and notices how small it is compared to his much larger ones. Her hand is cold and her skin is smooth. He is tempted to hold it longer but decides against it. Satisfied, he goes back to his sleeping position on his side of the bedding. 

He remembers the night of their wedding. He made it clear then that he had no plans of fulfilling his role as her husband. Spending the night together in her bedchamber  was all for show. He was very clear that he had no intention of fulfilling his duties as a husband. She didn’t argue with him, in fact, she only ever replied with a soft, “I know.” The fact that he said all those things just a few days after she jumped on the lake, makes Cheoljong retch with shame.  As he stares at his wife’s sleeping form next to him, he wonders how he can ever make up to her. He takes one last look at her before drifting into oblivion.

Sometime during the night, Cheoljong is jolted awake - someone just kicked his leg, very painfully he might add. He immediately sits up and notices  the queen thrashing in her sleep. She must be having a nightmare, he thought. He tries to soothe her by patting her arm, but her nightmares seem to continue. She keeps saying, “No”. Cheoljong rolls next to her and gently envelopes her into an embrace, her face on his neck, his hands on her back. “It's ok. It's just a dream” he says soothingly. Somehow it must have worked because she calms down. He rubs her back gently, willing her to sleep soundly again. 

“Your majesty?” He hears her speak, sleep evident in her voice. 

“Shhhhh” he says, still rubbing her back gently. “You were dreaming. Shhhh” he said. She shudders when with every ‘Shhhh’ he makes, so he goes quiet. He is baffled by her reaction to 'Shhhh"

Something tickles her memory: the feel of steel on her throat and she trembles. He gently rubs her back and she burrows her head into the nook between his shoulder and his neck. This is a dream, she thought. She drifts back to sleep, praying she doesn't dream of sinking towards the bottom of the lake again.

Cheoljong could feel her breath on his neck. “I was drowning,” she says. She must have been dreaming of the lake, Cheoljong thought. The remorse spreads through him like wildfire. He doesn’t know what to say. Without thinking, he pulled her even closer, trying to make her feel the words he doesn’t yet know how to say. She makes no protest. In a few moments she drifts back to sleep. 

When her  nightmare is over. Cheoljong knows he should probably untangle himself from her, but she is too soft, too pliant, too perfect in his arms. In the quiet of the night, he discovers just how much he likes having her there. 

It would not take long before sleep takes him too. That night he slept a dreamless sleep - a first in a long time. 

In the early morning when he opens his eyes, his right arm is sore, but his heart is full. He looks down at his wife, stretched out beside him, her head cradled by his arm. He lets his index finger hover over her nose, eyes, cheeks, lips. She’s so beautiful, he thought. He couldn’t help it, he kisses her temple softly and leaves.

Chapter Text

So Yong wakes up, alone, to a splitting headache and a parched throat. The last thing she remembers is downing two consecutive cups of wine. A memory of Cheoljong pouring the bitter liquid into her cup bubbles up to the surface. He must have left after I fell asleep, she thought. Another memory surfaces: she and Cheoljong taking turns asking each other questions. It almost seems like a dream. She tries to recall the remaining events from the previous night but her memories are patchy. 

A few hours later, her cousin, Byeong In comes to visit her at Daejojeon.

“How are you feeling, Your Highness?” he asks, as soon as they sit down, genuine worry etched across his face. 

“I am well, cousin,” she assures him with a smile. So Yong is glad to see him. He was always a warm solid presence.

“Your Highness…” he hesitates. So Yong can see the concern in his eyes, and something else entirely. She has long suspected that Byeong In treated her more than a cousin should. She can sometimes see it in his eyes, and while it gives her a sense of unease, she ignores it. 

“You Highness..” he repeats himself. “Is His Majesty treating you well?” he asks.  

So Yong is tempted to tell him about the demons inside her head, about the threats of Kim Jwa Geun and the Dowager Queen, about feeling so alone in the palace, but she decides against it. She knows her cousin all too well. He is kind, generous and maybe a little overprotective. She doesn’t want to put him in a difficult situation. Besides, this is her fight. “You need not worry about me, cousin. I am well,” she assures him with a warm smile. That seems to put him at ease. 

“Actually, there is something I want to ask.”  Byeong In eyes the scar on her neck. 

So Yong pulls her jeogori to cover it. The scar is barely visible these days, but it still makes her self-conscious. “What is it?”

“That night…when you were attacked,” he knits his brow and leans in on the table, “Do you remember anything particular about the intruder?”

“Like what?”

“Anything distinct. Height, scar, voice, scent… anything that could help us identify him.” He looks at her expectantly.

So Yong cocks her head, pretending to think. Jasmine tea. “It was dark and it happened so fast…  why do you ask all of a sudden?”

He leans back. “There have been a series of robberies recently. I suspect they are perpetrated by the same men. The robberies are way too similar”. 

So Yong twists the ornate ring on her finger; it’s a nervous tick.   “Similar…. how?” 

“Four to Five men. In and out, quick and efficient. Well executed.  But your case is peculiar.” His brow furrows.

“Peculiar?”

“They steal valuable items from the warehouses, but they don’t venture into the main house. Why would the intruder go to your father’s room?”

Exactly. “Do you think it’s an assassination attempt?”

“If it were, why would they rob other warehouses, not just your father’s?” He pauses to give So Yong a worried look. “Your Highness, please be careful, trust nobody until I catch them,” and in a tone that chills So Yong, he adds “I will cut their heads off.” 

Uneasy, she steers the conversation back to the intruder. “Is there anything else you found?” She knows she’s pushing it, so she adds, “I mean, the information you share just might trigger a memory.” 

He believes her. “There’s something I’m looking into. If it works, we can entrap them.” 

They speak for a few more minutes before Byeong In leaves. 

The conversation made So Yong anxious. She finds herself in familiar territory: choosing between her family  and her husband. She props her elbows on the low table and rests her head on her hands. She closes her eyes to think. She probably shouldn’t care if Cheoljong walks into a trap, but the image of the boy in the well crosses her mind. Hasn’t he suffered enough from her clan? More importantly, her own plan relies on Cheoljong with his head attached to his body.  She decides to expedite her plans. 

-----

Cheoljong is furious. He was in the middle of the Royal Conference reading one of the scrolls… it was an appeal to depose the queen, one that is obviously authored by the Jo clan.

"What the…" 

"Your Majesty," Right State Councillor Jo Man-Hong’s loud voice booms through the hall. “We are worried about the Queen’s mental state. She tried to take her own life. This is not good for the Internal Court. I ask you to consider deposing her!” 

Cheoljong puts the scroll down and narrows his eyes at the posturing minister. Livid, he is just about to scold the overbearing Jo Man-Hong, but Chief State Councillor Kim Byung-Hak interjects. “If you’re questioning the queen’s mental state, wouldn't that invalidate her statement that saved the Royal Consort?"

His Ministers continue to argue like children. Cheoljong loses patience and slams the scroll on the table. “Be quiet!” he yells at the bickering ministers. “I will dismiss this appeal as it was not handled correctly. If you want to pursue it, do it properly!” 

They quiet down, taken aback by his sudden outburst. Nobody expected the king to defend the queen, in fact, nobody is more surprised than Cheoljong himself. The Dowager Queen and Kim Byeong In had the same surprised look. Kim Jwa Geun didn't expect it either, but he is much more prudent with his reaction, as he always is.  Cheoljong isn’t finished, far from it. He is seething. He glares at the sanctimonious and sniveling Jo Man-Hong, his eyes shooting daggers at the visibly bewildered minister. “I can guarantee you this, as I am her husband, the person closest to her, her mind is not ill.” He makes a mental note to punish Jo Man Hong the moment he rises to power.

They start bickering again but Cheoljong tunes them out. He needs to rein in his anger, or his carefully curated cover will be blown. As far as his court is concerned, he is the same brown-nosing dimwit plucked by Kim Jwa Geun from obscurity. He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep up with the charade, so he vows to work extra hard and find the godforsaken ledgers as soon as possible.  But first, he needs to throw his scheming ministers off the queen’s scent. 

-----

A eunuch hands So Yong a pot of rare orchids.  She takes the flowers excitedly, wondering who sent it. Hongyeon herself cannot hide her smile; she is practically giddy. “So pretty,” she gushed. “There’s a note, Your HIghness!”

So Yong takes the note attached to the pot and opens it. The note is short and is written in the king’s neat calligraphy.

                I will see you tonight, My Queen.

Her heart skips a beat, but she reins it in. Months ago, So Yong would have been completely touched by the gesture,  floored even, but given the circumstances, she is just annoyed, suspicious even. What game is he playing now. She hands the flowers to Hongyeon. “Take care of it,” she says.

Hongyeon takes the pot, befuddled by the queen’s reaction. She sets it haphazardly on top of one of the shelves. The queen doesn’t even take a second look at it.  

As So Yong sits down by the plush cushion in her chamber, Hong Yeon fills her in about the appeal made by the Jo clan to depose her. It angers So Yong, but her days of playing nice are long gone.  

So Yong who is once torn between loyalty to family, and her growing feelings for the King, realizes bitterly, that one cannot not pick a side and expect the world to be a better place. Fortune favors the brave, never the undecided. More importantly, nice girls don’t just finish last, they get fished out of a dark, cold lake. 

A little while later, she calls on Hong Yeon and Lady Choi and gives them specific instructions. “Spread the word,” she tells them. Her plans rely on the fact that rumors spread like wildfire.  Before she knows it, the palace is abuzz with the rumor that she didn’t fall into the lake but had lied to save the king and his consort. It was an act of love and sacrifice, and of honor and virtue. Others paint her a martyr, others a heroine, others a righteous and loving queen.  Whatever it is, So Yong is pleased about the new narrative. 

It is now dusk and Hong Yeon is firing up the lamps.  So Yong knows the king will be visiting soon, so she prepares for bed early. It is cowardly to avoid him but she is in no mood to make nice with him today. 

------

Cheoljong is looking forward to seeing the queen that night. He wanted to speak to her about the appeal. Much to his chagrin, So Yong is already sleeping when he arrives at her bedchamber. Whether she is pretending to be asleep, or not, Cheoljong is unsure, but it rankles him. He cannot shake the feeling that she gets more and more distant each passing day. He is afraid that one day she will be completely out of his reach. 

The orchids discarded at the far end of the room catches his eye. He hoped she’d appreciate the gesture but she chose to keep it in the least conspicuous area of her chamber.  Cheoljong’s heart sinks even further. He goes to the empty side of the bed and lies down next to her.

Chapter Text

Cheoljong is seated on his throne at Seonjeongjeon Hall, reviewing appeals, when Hwa Jin pays him a visit. He is glad to see her. He feels as if he’s been neglecting her recently. Truth be told, he hasn’t spent much time with her after she was installed as the Royal Consort. There is just too much going on, and if he is being honest, he is distracted by the queen recently. 

“Your Majesty,” she greets him politely with a warm smile.

Cheoljong immediately stands to meet her at the center of the room, and steers her towards the table. As soon as they are both seated down, he tells her he’s happy to see her.  “I was about to visit you myself. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Hwa Jin gives him another radiant smile. The king has always meant everything to her, and she loves the idea of being able to help him. “Your Majesty, all I want is to support you,” she looks at him adoringly. 

Cheoljong smiles. “I wanted to talk to you about the queen. During today’s council, I have received an appeal from the Jo clan to depose her.”

Hwa Jin’s smile falters, but recovers immediately. She is irked, and is perhaps a little confused why they were even talking about the queen, “Is that so?” she asks noncommittally. 

Cheoljong continues. “She is paying the price for saving us. It wouldn’t be right to stay quiet, so I would like the Royal Secretariat to withdraw it.  Is that okay with you?

“Do you want me to ask my father?” Hwa Jin asks, annoyed.  She keeps her expression neutral, but her insides are churning. 

“He is well-respected, and people listen to him,”  Cheoljong reasons out. 

It rankles Hwa Jin, but she thought it wise not to argue with him. The king must have noticed her hesitation because in the next second he asks her, “Is that a difficult request?”

Hwa Jin flashes him another bright smile. “No, it is not. I will write a letter to my father myself… but Your Majesty, there is something I want to ask.” She decides that it is time to go on the offensive. 

“Tell me.”

“I have been in the palace for a while now… but we have yet to spend the night together.”

Cheoljong is taken aback. He feels guilty for making her feel lonely and neglected. “I must have been really preoccupied recently.” An image of the queen in his arms enters his mind, but he pushes it down. “I will visit you in your chamber tonight” he promises her. 

----

So Yong is just about to take a nap in the afternoon when she hears Lady Choi announce the arrival of the Royal Consort. She rolls her eyes. Hwa Jin has been undermining her since the beginning, and she is in no mood to be so nice today. She gestures to Hong Yeon to let her in.

Seeing Hwa Jin looking beautiful as ever does not help So Yong’s mood. She braces herself for another confrontation.

Hwa Jin gives So Yong one of her smug smiles as soon as she sits down. “I came to tell you that I'm withdrawing the appeal.” She raises an eyebrow and then purses her lips. “The king asked me to do this for you, so neither of us are indebted to you.”

If it was the old So Yong, she probably would have given her a polite thank you, but she isn’t anymore. She lifts her chin subtly and gives her a bored look. She has seen her father do this multiple times. Speak less, listen more. Learn to use the power of silence.

“I bet you’re thinking things are going your way, even spreading malicious rumors about me.” Hwa Jin gives So Yong another meaningful look. “The appeal will be withdrawn and we are even.”  

“Oh we are far from even, Hwa Jin.” She imitates her Uncle Kim Jwa Geun’s low, menacing tone. It was her turn to give her a condescending smile “In fact, I’m just getting started.”  

Hwa Jin is stunned but recovers immediately. She knows exactly what So Yong is implying. She glares at her, calling her bluff. “The king would hate you even more.”

So Yong isn’t planning to tell Cheoljong, but not for the reasons she implies. She knows that the threat of doing something is sometimes more effective than actually doing it. She’s planning to hold their dark little secret over her head for a while, and watch her squirm. More importantly, So Yong is no snitch; such things are beneath her.   

She tilts her head, pretending to ponder her last statement, then smiles wickedly. “I find that I don’t care anymore... you, on the other hand, I’m not so certain.” So Yong cared, perhaps less so now, but she’d die before she’d admit to it. 

The king's feelings have always been So Yong’ Achilles Heel, a fact that Hwa Jin has taken advantage of too many times. Fortunately for So Yong, the same applies to Hwa Jin. "You know what happens when the dead come back to life?” She pauses for full effect,  “They collect old debts." 

Hwa Jin’s nostrils flare and her eyes shoot daggers at So Yong. “I would love to stay and chat more, but I have to get ready. I am spending the night with the King.” The comment was so straightforward, so malicious, so vile. 

“Well, then you better decide whether you tell him before , or after he sleeps with you” 

Hwa Jin stands up and storms out of So Yong’s bedchamber. As soon as the doors close, So Yong allows herself to cry.

--- 

Cheoljong didn't sleep with Hwa Jin that night, nor the following night.  Instead, he and Prince Yeongpyeong, under the guise of visiting the Royal Villa, went searching for the elusive ledgers, based on information from Hong. He tells them the information comes from an unverified source, so they must proceed with caution.

Instead of their usual in-and-out approach, Cheoljong and Yeongpyeong decide to run initial surveillance. There was indeed something off about the warehouse; for one, it was too dark. Warehouses that store valuable items are well-lit. They decided to call off the raid that night. It was far too risky. 

The morning after, as they discussed quietly at Seonjeongjeon Hall, Cheoljong asks Hong about the source of the information. Hong is affronted but concedes that the information is dodgy. He suspects that one of his sources may have been compromised. 

Cheoljong pulls out a book and opens it to a page showing a particularly scandalous image. It was for show in case someone barges in on them. He positions the book at the center of the table. Hong smiles wickedly at Cheoljong’s choice of literature. “Do you find this book particularly useful these days?” 

Cheoljong ignores him. He doesn’t have the patience to humor Hong today. They have searched more properties than he could count in the last few weeks, but they are nowhere near close to finding the ledgers. He is also well aware that Byeong In’s men are hot on their trail; he suspects the dodgy information Hong received is a trap set up by Byeong In himself.  

Yeongpyeong strokes his chin in thought. “We need to go back to Kim Mun Geun’s home, Your Majesty.”

Hong chuckles. "Your Majesty,  if you have only been less hostile to Her Highness, it would not be so difficult to do that.” 

Hong earns a death glare from Yeongpyeong.

“Yaaaa. I’m not saying His Majesty should sleep with the enemy! But you catch more flies with honey.”

Yeongpyeong stays quiet. His patience is wearing thin. He also worries about the King. He knows Cheoljong is just as committed to their cause, but he's been seeing cracks in his resolve recently. He no longer regards the queen with open hostility. It bothers Yeongpyeong that Cheoljong might be getting distracted, maybe even getting attached to the queen. He doesn’t visit the Royal Consort as often as he used to either. He keeps his thoughts to himself, but he vows to keep track of his brother’s every move.  

“We need to lie low for a while.” the king tells them, deliberately ignoring Yeongpyeong’s suggestion. 

“You’re right, Byeong-in is closing in,” Hong whispers. “I think it would be wise, Your Majesty” And then he gives him a mischievous smile. “You should probably fulfill your husband duties first.”  He gives Cheoljong a cheeky wink.

“It’s not the time for that, Director Hong!” the king chastises him.

“Why are you so snippy?” Hong shoots him an annoyed look.  “Missing the queen?” he teases him mercilessly. "It's only been two days!"

Cheoljong is annoyed that Hong seems to have taken a particular liking for the queen after their afternoon tea. He is tempted to tell him off, but before he can respond to Hong’s ribbing, the eunuch barges in. His gaze zeroes in on the book. Hong and Yeongpyeong pretend to be studying the lurid image very intently. The scandalized Eunuch looks away. 

“Head Eunuch! I was just showing them this…” he points at the image and angles the book towards the eunuch. He looks clearly uncomfortable with the extremely salacious image. “What do you think about it? I need these instructions for my nightly visits to the queen!" He gives the eunuch a particularly lecherous smile. 

“Your Majesty, the queen sent you a letter” he announces instead. He doesn’t look at the book.

Cheoljong’s heart skips a beat; he is happy to hear that the queen has written to him. He is, however, careful not to give anything away. “Oh she did?” he says evenly and takes the letter from the eunuch. 

As soon as the eunuch is out of earshot, he opens the letter. He is surprised to receive a letter from her considering he is meeting her that night anyway. He is careful to keep a straight face; he knows Hong and Yeongpyeong are watching him so closely. 

“She’s just requesting to meet,” he says dismissively and discards the letter. He doesn’t feel the immediate need to tell them that the queen had invited him for tea at the pavilion.

Chapter Text

Cheoljong reopens the queen’s letter as soon as Hong and Yeongpyeong leave. The first thing he notices is her familiar and graceful calligraphy. 

Your Majesty,

Forgive me if I am too bold, but I wish to invite you for tea at the pavilion this afternoon. 

There is a matter of great importance I wish to discuss with you.

Kim So Yong

Something about the queen's letter unsettles Cheoljong, but it’s just a twinge in his gut, nothing more. It would be unwise to jump to conclusions, he tells himself. 

But then again, his wisdom has proven immensely lacking when it comes to the queen.

With some trepidation, he picks up a brush then dips it in ink.

My queen,

That is as far as he goes before hesitating. 

He reads her letter once more; it is brief and candid. It is the kind of letter you send to an acquaintance, not one’s husband. Respectful, direct and formal. It is also achingly different from the earlier letters she used to write him - lyrical, eloquent and resonant. 

And unbeknownst to anyone, Cheoljong kept all her letters. He stores it in an unmarked drawer somewhere in Huijeongjeon, along with a few sentimental possessions he allowed himself to keep.

He has always been drawn to the queen’s earlier letters, inexplicably so. There is even one letter he has read countless times, so much so, that the words have become as familiar as his own heart.

Shall I compare my king to a starlit night?

He, who's more enigmatic yet forthright.

A frosty winter may ravage eventide,

But true I shall remain by my king's side.

It pains him to remember a time when he deliberately ignored her letters, leaving them unopened for days. He never responded to most of them. A few, he responded to by summoning her. 

"I've no time to read your letter. Just tell me what it is you want to say," he would tell her. Direct, with just a touch of disdain.

And so she would tell him what her letters are about, but he would make a show of reading the scrolls laid out in front of him. He would pretend not to listen. Feigned indifference.

But he can’t help it, he listens. He remembers everything she says, even the tone and the emotion behind her words. 

He could hear the enthusiasm in her voice and how it would slowly turn forlorn and detached when she notices his disinterest. 

The expressions on her face would behold him for days. The way they change from hopeful to hurt, from happy to humbled. It was always the same for what little time they had spent together; she arrives with a smile, and leaves with a scowl. 

But it's her eyes that continue to haunt Cheoljong. Dark eyes that once sparkled with warmth and wonder, now hold him captive with their coldness. He couldn’t tell whether their depths are hollow, or are brimming with unleashed rage.

He steals a glance at the queen's missive one more time. He folds it back neatly and hides it in his clothes. He will take it back with him to Huijeongjeon, and store it in the same drawer where he keeps the others. 

He wonders yet again why the queen would want to see him. Does she think about him, in the same manner and frequency that he thinks of her? The notion brings a smile to his face.

He stares at his unfinished letter and starts scribbling again. Without thinking, he signs it with his name… his name before he ascended the throne. 

My queen,

I look forward to having tea with you this afternoon.

Yours,

Yi Won Beom

He reads the letter several times. It sounds too eager… too familiar. Frustrated, he rips it in half. Then he rips it once more, twice more, until all that’s left are small crumpled pieces with indiscernible ink.

He takes another sheet, and dips the brush in ink. He keeps his reply simple. Direct. It mirrors the tenor of her own letter. 

I shall join you at the pavilion for tea. 

Cheoljong doesn't sign it this time. He folds it carefully before he can change his mind again. He calls the eunuch and gives him instructions to deliver the letter to the queen.

Soon after, he looks at the shadows created by the light filtering through the papered walls, gauging the time. A sense of awkward anticipation steals over him. Surely, his earlier trepidation has not been replaced by eagerness.

That would be preposterous, he tells himself. Absolutely preposterous.

-----

Cheoljong immediately sees So Yong the moment the pavilion comes into view. She sits next to the railing, gazing blankly into the open space just outside the pavilion.  A tea set is laid out neatly on the table in front of her, while a light breeze rumples her black and gold dangui.

Inexplicably buoyed by the sight of her, Cheoljong  finds himself walking faster, as though he cannot wait to be close to her. 

“I’m glad you asked to see me,” he says as soon as he lowers himself on the cushion, facing So Yong. 

His gaze lands on her rosebud lips, tinted crimson, and lingers there longer than necessary. His eyes then roam her face, then her hair.  Her tresses are neatly coiffed and adorned with gold and jade pins. The silken gold of her clothes shimmers in the afternoon light. 

“You look especially beautiful today,” he blurts out before he can stop himself. For the smallest fragment of time, he entertains the possibility that she put special attention on her appearance for him. Something warm and wonderful blooms in his chest. 

Her lips curve upward in a peculiar combination of smirk and sneer. “That is kind of you to say, Your Majesty. Thank you,” she responds blithely. 

“What have you been up to the last couple of days, My Queen?” 

“Oh you know… This. That,” she replies vaguely. She then addresses the eunuch, Lady Choi, Hong Yeon and everyone else. “Please give us some privacy.”

When she meets his eyes once more, hers are cold, distant, almost steely. It is a disconcerting sight that tells him she is about to unleash something he’d rather avoid. Sorrow will do that to a person , says the taunting voice in his head.

She pours him tea and offers the cup to him. He takes it as she sips daintily from her own cup. “I have a proposition for you,” she says without preamble.  

“Tell me.” 

"I didn't choose my family any more than you did yours,” she intones. The calmness of her demeanor is a stark contrast to the turbulence in her eyes. “And while the circumstances of you and I being selected as king and queen are different, we are so alike, are we not?" 

Cheoljong doesn’t say anything, but he is suddenly very alert. He watches her graceful movements closely, trepidation creeping through his body with insidious speed. 

She stares blankly into the grounds outside the pavilion before speaking in the same low and detached voice. "You once told me; I will be queen but it will be an ostensible position. We will never be husband and wife.”

Cheoljong remembers telling her that, and if he could, he’d undo it. In fact, there are so many things he wishes he can undo. “My queen…” he starts but the queen silences him with a  gesture. 

“But aren't you in a similar position…?”  She turns her head to meet his eyes. His, brimming with regret, hers, blazing with unspoken truths. “The only thing that makes you king are your silken robes…You have no power, no influence, nothing." 

 Her blistering assessment annoys him in its accuracy. He fights to keep his tone affable, even as he feels himself tense, his jaw clenching. “What exactly is the point of this conversation, My queen?” 

"I will help you get everything you’ve always wanted," she says simply, unconsciously tracing the shape of her cup with her index finger. 

“And what would that be?” 

“I will make you king.”  

"I am king," He replies tersely. 

“In rights and in robes, not in reality,” she states. Her tone suggests it isn't an affront, but a matter of fact. And yet, her chin thrusts upward in a subtle gesture of provocation.

Cheoljong swallows his protests; he knows the queen had not asked to meet him for the purpose of vilifying him. There is a calculated  purpose to the things she does, no matter how inconsequential they may seem.  

He lets the silence, with its tumultuous undercurrent, hang over them. 

"What exactly are you proposing, My Queen?” He drains his now-cold tea to wash away the disquiet coiling up his throat. 

In answer, So Yong takes out a torn page from underneath the folds of her clothes, and lays it out on the table. “Do you recognize this, Your Majesty?”

He takes the sheet of paper and studies it, not quite believing his eyes. It is a page from the ledger he’s been searching for so long. "Why do you have this?"

"You can have all of it.” 

“All of it?” He repeats disbelievingly, holding the torn page in his hands. Is she offering him what he thinks she’s offering? But…. why? 

She nods wordlessly, her face a mask of indifference.

“What makes you think I want it?”

 So Yong lets out an exasperated sigh. "Let's not do this dance any longer, Your Majesty,” she tells him, using the same words he used on her that fateful night by the lake. “I know about your nightly raids, which by the way you should hold off for now. You’re attracting attention from the wrong people.”

Cheoljong does not respond right away. He merely looks at her, studying her, furious at the twisted irony that fate has dealt him. The queen whom he has treated so unkindly, is offering him everything he has always wanted. He should be rejoicing, but all he feels is a strange sense of shame and regret….and suspicion.

 “If you hand me the ledger, your whole clan will be after you,” he warns, still baffled by her offer. Why would she surrender her clan’s ledgers? What's in it for her?

She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly, as though she’s unafraid of her own clan. “They have been after me since I moved to the palace. I don’t see how this is different. Besides, I trust the ledgers should take care of your enemies….” and then, like an afterthought, she adds, “and maybe mine.”

She divulged so much information in such a short sentence that his mind cannot decide which one to latch on first. They have been after her? When? How? “And you know where the ledger is?”

So Yong huffs. “Are we really going to do this, Your Majesty? If there is one person who can find it, it would be me.” She pauses for a moment as if to rein in her temper. In the next breath, she goes back to being painfully impassive.  “I do, however, want a few things in return.”

Of course. “What do you want?” Cheoljong asks calmly, though his mind is racing.

“For one, I need you to ensure my father’s safety. That is non-negotiable.” 

"Your father willingly and deliberately stole from Joseon’s coffers. He is complicit in your clan’s corruption. Why should I ensure his safety?" He responds vehemently. How dare she ask him to protect the man who left him for dead so many years ago?  

“Your Majesty, you tried to kill me. We are square.” She shoots back in equal vehemence. 

Silence falls. So pronounced that he flinched at the sound of her pained exhale.  

“You know,”  he hears himself say, chastened beyond measure.

“Yes, I do,” So Yong replies. Her voice is steady, but her eyes look pained. “I know it was you that night.” She traces the scar on her neck unconsciously, as though she’s remembering the feel of the blade on her neck.

Cheoljong follows the movement with his eyes, his thoughts going back to that night. He wanted to say something. Anything. But what words can undo a grave sin? A debt that cannot be repaid. 

How long has she known? Did she tell anyone? Why hasn’t she confronted him before? The questions come out in a rush, and he is uncertain what to do with himself. It is uncharted territory for him.

He braves a glance at So Yong’s face, expecting rancor but her features are tight, stony, almost as if she’s trying to quell any discussion on the matter. He heaves out a breath, searching his mind for words. “My Queen-”

“It is neither here nor there. There is no need to dwell on it,” she interrupts, halting his words mid-sentence. Dismissing any attempt from him to address the matter.  But there is a wet sheen to her eyes, as though she’s reining in an old hurt that’s threatening to bubble up the surface.

His hands itch to reach out to her but what good will such a gesture do when he is the sole reason she is so devastated?

“I didn’t mean to kill you that night, My Queen. I didn’t even realize I nicked your neck until I saw you back at the palace. I - ”  Cheoljong speaks so rapidly, wanting to say so much in so little time. His hand finally reaches out across the table, but So Yong raises her hand to stop him from coming closer. 

“Please stop, Your Majesty. Like I said, it’s water under the bridge. I have moved on,” she says, apathetic to both admission and apology, as though she simply wants to stay the course, and be done with him. 

“Second….. “ Her breath hitches. “Secondly, Your Majesty, you need to let me go...” 

Something inside Cheoljong splinters, piercing through him like a blunt sword to his heart. “What is that supposed to mean, My Queen?”

“I want to leave the palace.”

“Are you asking me to depose you?”

“No, that is not what I want….” her voice falters. Cheoljong can see her throat working convulsively, trying to swallow a sob. “I want to start over, maybe somewhere far from here.”

Unspoken accusations and belated apologies fill the space between them, blanketing the pavilion in silence. 

Across from him, So Yong looks relieved for the pause in conversation as though she’s trying valiantly not to break down.

“I know you and Prince Yeongpyeong are behind the counterfeit identities,” she murmurs, breaking the silence.  “You can help me."

"How?"

"Some days I just want to run. Away from here. Away from all these. Away from…” She leaves the sentence hanging, as though she’s leaving breadcrumbs for him to follow.

Away from you. She doesn’t have to say it. He hears the words. Resonant. Resentful. 

Without thinking, words sneak out of him. “What if I don’t want to lose you?” 

“You just don’t want to lose.”

Before he can say anything more, she speaks again, entreating him to see things her way. “This is our only chance. If I go… you will be free to marry the person you truly love.” Her eyes are incredibly sad, it reminds him of her eyes that night at the lake. And then in a voice so soft, so haunting, she adds, “Maybe I get to do the same.”

“Let’s not be rash,” he says meekly, besieged by an inexplicable sense of loss.

“Whatever for? Isn't this what you've always wanted?" she asks, as though she has already decided. As if leaving her life behind… turning her back on him, is a foregone conclusion. 

“This is all so sudden. Why….?”

“All of a sudden?” She scoffs. “You had written me off the instant you discovered I am related to your enemies…and now you want to know why I want to leave. My reasons are not your concern, Your Majesty. Never were.”  

“I would like to hear them now. Please.”

“Even if I tell you, you wouldn't believe them.” She replies, sounding excruciatingly neutral. “Besides, you lost the right to know the moment you said you will never be a husband to me." 

“I would believe anything you say."  

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she whispers. “You didn’t believe me when it mattered.”

“Please… I want to know.” Cheoljong leans forward, inexplicably desperate to hear what she has to say, to offer her the comfort he had denied her for so long.

So Yong tightens her lips demurely, as though he’s no more than a petulant child screaming for attention. “I want to be with someone who wants me just as desperately, someone whose very touch would crowd all other thoughts in my head. I need someone who is thrilled with the idea of spending the rest of his life with me, not because it satisfies someone’s political maneuverings, but because the alternative is just too dire to bear. You have made it abundantly clear, time and again, with cruel eloquence,  that you, Your Majesty, are not that someone.” 

Her words chasten him. "What changed? Why now…?"  

“And therein lies the rub. Nothing has changed; it has always been that way for me.” Grief radiates from her eyes, sorrow imbued in her features.  “But you never saw it. You only saw what you wanted to see.” 

The queen has just offered him everything he always wanted, and it rankles him that all he can think of is a palace without her. “Then why do all of these? Why help me at all?” 

“I hate that I need to ask a king, my husband, to grant me freedom. I should be able to take it for myself. But the world reminds me everyday… You remind me at every turn, that I am nothing. I exist in a world where I am someone’s possession. An object of your vengeance. A mere commodity used by my clan for trade, for currying power and favor.”  

Villain. Victim. How could he have mistaken the two? Somehow, So Yong managed to completely upend his beliefs, rendering his mind so off-kilter that he couldn't form an argument that he knows is there.

At his silence, she continues to speak. “Pawns, you and I.  Perhaps it is time for both of us to claim what is rightfully ours. Me, my freedom. You, your regency.” 

There is something about her unexpected audacity that makes Cheoljong want to bargain with her. To decline her offer and find some other means to get hold of those ledgers. To redeem himself.  Sentiments that should have no place in his plans but have somehow wormed their way to his heart.

“I do not deserve your help.” 

She is quiet for a minute, her dainty hands pulling at an errant thread on her chima . When she looks at him to meet his eyes, she looks incredibly sad, but resolute. 

“Helping you, is how I help myself.”

Chapter Text

Cheoljong is in his private chambers, sitting on his plush cushions, leaning forward, his elbow on his knee, his palm holding the weight of his jaw. He can feel the eunuch’s assessing gaze as he hauls a stack of books on his low table. Cheoljong makes a show of sifting through each one of them, but his mind isn't really on studying. It is somewhere else. On someone else. 

You didn’t believe me when it mattered, So Yong said. It sounded less an accusation, more a statement of fact. One she had obviously made her peace with. The voice inside him knew she was right. He never gave her a reason to believe otherwise.

The queen’s words keep ringing in his head, tormenting him. There was an undercurrent of finality to them as though he had already lost her. Irrevocably so. 

Her face had that distant, unflappable expression he’d seen too many times recently.

Why anyone would choose to walk away from the coveted position of a queen confounds him.  It goes against everything he believed about her and her clan.

An image of So Yong's delicate face comes to him unbidden. He sees the scar on her neck. Then he remembers her trembling while he held a blade to her neck. He hears her voice crack. "Please," she begged. 

You didn’t just break her heart, you broke her spirit, says the taunting voice in his head. He drove a girl, with a bright future, to despair. Such was her grief that she found no other recourse but to end her life. 

Cheoljong aches at the memory of that night. He saw the desperation in her eyes. He saw her sanity hanging by a thread. She had begged for scraps. Hated himself for it. He dismissed her anyway. 

He behaved so reprehensibly that maybe he shouldn’t be asking why So Yong wants to walk away, but why she hadn’t left sooner.

You had written me off the instant you discovered I am related to your enemies…and now you want to know why I want to leave. My reasons are not your concern, Your Majesty. Never were. 

The eunuch clears his throat and gestures at the book in his hands– he's holding it upside down. He snaps it shut and lays it atop the stack on the table. He’s not getting any studying done that afternoon.

The eunuch's voice cuts into the quiet. "Is there something troubling you, Your Majesty?"

Cheoljong starts to shake his head; the words of denial just about to leave his lips. But the eunuch's knowing gaze tells him he knows exactly what troubles him. And that it is pointless to deny it.

He wonders how much information he should share with the eunuch as So Yong’s words echo in his mind once more. 

You didn’t believe me when it mattered, So Yong accused him. The hurt in her voice hurt him. It wounds him still. Inexplicably so.

Perhaps it reminds him of his own family, falsely accused and then murdered for someone else's political gain. Short of murdering the queen– and not for lack of trying– hasn’t he done the same thing? Such is the height of his hypocrisy.

“What troubles you, Your Majesty,” the eunuch presses him kindly.

He looks up and meets the eunuch’s discerning gaze. He is prepared to equivocate but the eunuch speaks once more. “Might I offer some counsel, Your Majesty?”

What could the eunuch possibly offer to address his predicament? he muses quietly. But he humors him anyway. “Yes, tell me.” 

The eunuch dips his head in deference but his voice is low and clear. “The heart of a woman is as mystical as it is mundane, Your Majesty.” 

Cheoljong shoots him a startled glance. He wonders how the eunuch zeroed on his dilemma, but then again it is the eunuch who spends the most time with him– watching, waiting, wondering. 

“The heart can bend, break and bloom, but when broken, there are only two things that can mend it.” He looks at Cheoljong meaningfully. “The first is time.”

“What's the second?” 

“If you hope to mend a woman's broken heart, you must be willing to give her yours.”

Something shifts inside Cheoljong, like a rock dislodged from a drystone wall. Where there was once a clear path towards vengeance, he sees only a crossroad. “You speak like you're well acquainted with the heart.”

When the eunuch smiles, he looks older, wiser. “I am old, Your Majesty. I have seen far too many hearts break. Now, back to your predicament. You should tell her the truth.”

“It's the truth that broke her.” 

“Ah. Most people think of truth as two-dimensional. Black or white. Light or Dark. But it's not. Truths have depths.”

“I don’t understand.”

The eunuch steps closer. “You see, Your Majesty, the mind gives truth reason, but the heart renders its meaning. Re-tell the truth from your heart. Maybe she won't listen, but her heart will."

And the truth is that if the queen’s clan were a pack of wolves, she is an anomaly– a sheep in wolfskin.

When the eunuch leaves, he opens one of his drawers, and pulls at the false bottom to reveal a hidden compartment. He takes out a stack of unanswered letters and walks back to his low table. He reads the earliest letter first. He takes a parchment and begins to write. Heeding the eunuch’s advice, Cheoljong retells the truth. 

As he is about to open another, the eunuch announces his brother. He grabs the letters hastily and sprints towards the drawers to hide them.

"Your Majesty," he hears Yeongpyeong's voice just as he is closing the drawer. "Are you looking for something?"

He schools his expression and turns around. "Yes. I knew I kept Hwa Jin's painting somewhere, but I don't remember where it is," he says smoothly. 

Yeongpyeong visibly relaxes. "Are you referring to the portrait, your Majesty?"

"Yes, that's the one." He walks back to the plush cushion and sits. He gestures for Yeongpyeong to sit too. He does.

"She has a talent for painting," Yeongpyeong says, his tone rich with adoration. "How did your meeting with the queen go?" 

"We were just talking about the appeal. The Jo clan seems to have backed down. For now at least."  The lies roll off his tongue easily. He is baffled why his first instinct is to keep the queen's highly unusual proposition from his own brother. 

Yeongpyeong eyes him skeptically, as though he doubts the veracity of his words. It unnerves Cheoljong, but he he keep his features mild. 

"Have you thought about my proposal? We are running out of time. We need an excuse to go back to Kim Mun Geun's home."

"I am working on it," Cheoljong replies, relieved that Yeongpyeong lets the matter about the queen drop. But the fact that he chooses to hide the truth from his own brother rattles him. 

They talk some more until the eunuch interrupts them, reminding Cheoljong of his visit to the queen's chambers. He nods and rises to his feet.

There are a few truths that need retelling. 

-- 

Hong Yeon has just finished braiding So Yong’s hair, when Cheoljong arrives at Daejojeon. So Yong gives him a once over, silently wondering why he’s early. 

“Your Majesty,” she says in polite greeting but says nothing else. She's leaving soon; there is no longer a need to act so obsequiously. 

“I must have been early. I see that you’re…” he says awkwardly, letting the sentence hang. 

She breaks the silence. “We should probably retire for the night. It has been a long day.” She turns around and strides towards the beddings, leaving a befuddled Cheoljong behind. She crawls underneath the covers, then turns on her side to avoid facing Cheoljong. 

He extinguishes the lamps and goes straight to the other side of the beddings. He lies down next to her, the rustle of silk loud and grating in the deafening silence. For a good long while, she hears only his breathing. Then, he sighs heavily.

“My queen,” Cheoljong says softly. So Yong remains still, not wanting to engage in another conversation. 

“My queen,” he says again, his voice rising an octave but just as entreating. She feels him move again, as though he’s trying to reach out. 

She wills herself not to respond, but oftentimes, curiosity trumps self-preservation. “Your Majesty?” 

“I need to tell you something…..Please look at me.” 

So Yong forces herself to face Cheoljong, to look into the eyes of the man who, in one breath, could set her heart soaring. Make her blush. Addle her wits.  And then break her the next. 

To her surprise, Cheoljong rises and walks towards one of the lamps. She sits up and watches him pace the room, baffled by his sudden need to turn on a lamp. When room is bathed in a soft golden glow, he walks back and sits next to her. He takes both her hands and wraps them with his own. 

“What are you doing?” She pulls her hand back, but he doesn't loosen his grip. 

“My queen, I need you to understand something" A wealth of emotion flickers in his eyes. "My life has always been at the hands of your clan. It is all I see when I look at you... when I looked at you.” He squeezes her hands. “I failed to see that you are, as you said, a pawn, trying to make the best out of your situation. I failed to look past my own circumstances.”

So Yong sees the depth of regret and shame in his eyes. The sight jars her. He looks too gentle, too soft. Like someone who should be saving her from the lake instead of the vicious man who nudged her into it.

The king inches closer, her hands still in his. “I owe you a debt I can never repay, but please give me a chance to at least try.”  

His breath comes in ragged spurts, and for the first time So Yong realizes how much he fears her rejection. And while she’s not after retribution, at least not from Cheoljong, she wonders if this is his atonement– to suffer as she has suffered months before. 

“Your Majesty, this is hardly necessary.” Part of her wants to recoil from his touch for she cannot afford a soft heart. Kindness, she realizes, is a different type of cruelty. 

His eyes scan her face, perhaps searching for a chance at redemption. For a reason to make her doubt her decision. But she’s hollowed out; there is no softness left for him— only regret that he had not tried to understand her earlier. “Your Majesty, I already promised to help you with the ledgers, you don’t need to do this.”

“No. This is not about the ledgers.” Cheoljong doesn't let go of her hands, gripping them like a lifeline. “I’m sorry for treating you so abhorrently. For the terrible things I said at the lake. For that night at your father’s house.” His face darkens with something she recognizes. Shame. “And more importantly, I’m sorry that I made your life so unbearable, you felt the need to end it." 

“Your Majesty…” So Yong starts to say something but Cheoljong continues, his eyes are clear, expectant, pleading. 

“My queen, I am grateful for the offer you made earlier....  but I will not take it. Not if it comes at the cost of losing you.” Gone is Cheoljong's signature scornful smirk. In its place is a rare vulnerable expression that makes her wonder how easy it is for her to break him. 

She shakes her head before averting her gaze. She doesn’t want to see how a wet sheen jeweled his eyes, or for her skin to feel warm and tingly simply because he’s touching her. She doesn’t want him to look at her as if he found the backdoor to her heart.

Cheoljong lifts her hands and brings them to his lips. The gesture is so earnest, it causes an errant tear to roll down her face. He catches it and wipes it away.  “I’m sorry” he says again. He edges closer, caressing her cheek.  “Please give me the chance to make it up to you.” 

She quiets the dictates of her heart, and instead, lets the memories of his past transgressions take the form of sharpened swords. “The truth is, it was never going to work between us. On a good day, you barely tolerate me– what kind of life is that? I seem to offend you just by existing.” She takes a brief pause to compose herself, willing her voice not to tremble. “It galls me that it’s taken me this long to realize, that what I do, or who I strive to be, are irrelevant. My existence is a bitter reminder of everything that you have lost. You have suffered just as much. At the very least, you deserve a queen that you are not coerced into marrying.”  

“That may have been true, but it isn’t anymore. There were just too many misunderstandings between us.” 

“Your Majesty, you must understand that I’m not doing this out of spite. I am doing this for me. Every moment I stay here, something in me dies." She pauses and looks at Cheoljong kindly. “I almost lost my life once, if I stay longer, I’m afraid, I will not be as fortunate next time.” 

Cheoljong doesn’t speak but his eyes hold hers, beseeching. Filled with understanding. Remorse. So Yong resists the temptation to slap such sentiments from his face. Does he not realize that kindness erodes her defenses, just as his cruelty once eroded her sense of worth?

“If you truly want to make it up to me, you need to let me go,” she says softly, but firmly. “Give me the chance to live my life.” 

“I cannot let you go alone like that, it is too dangerous for a woman to be living alone.”

“It is dangerous here too.” So Yong stares at her hands wrapped in his. “Do you remember that day in the courtyard? You were willing to throw away everything. I won't ask for it, but do I not deserve to be with someone who'd be willing to do the same for me?" 

“I will not let anything harm you,” he prevaricates, dodging the entire point of her earlier statement.

“I am grateful for the sentiment. But you and I both know that’s not enough. And I don’t wish to ask you more than what you can give.” She squeezes his hand back.  

“Then do me this one favor,” Cheoljong lifts her hand to his cheek. “Before you go, allow me to at least get to know you better.”

So Yong wonders if it is an offer of friendship, a sentiment that fills and empties her at the same time. 

They could have been more. How she aches for more!

But she relents. Under the circumstances, it is something. Maybe it’s all she could ever have from him. 

"Please," Cheoljong says. It sounds like a plea and it discomfits So Yong greatly. 

She imagines collecting all her misgivings and then buries them somewhere in her heart. She gives Cheoljong a soft smile. “Alright,” she says.

In the lamplight, his eyes glow like jewels

--

The next night, Cheoljong suggests they play the same “Tell-me” game they played before. True to her promise to let Cheoljong know her better, she agrees to it. 

They traded questions while waiting for sleep to come. There is no wine this time, just the comfort of the shadows. They were lying in bed, within respectable distance, looking up at the ceiling. Cheoljong turned off all the lamps earlier, that the only light comes from the gibbous moon outside. 

“Tell me how you found out it was me that night,” he asks curiously. 

So Yong tells him it was the tea and his voice. “I realized later on that you were up to something. You weren’t so considerate the other time my father came to visit- you ordered the tutors to double my lessons. But that day at the pavilion, when father came to visit,  you came by, offered me tea. At first, I thought you were keeping up with appearances, but you never bothered before...” She pauses and lets her voice trail off. “More importantly, I remembered what you asked before I blacked out.”

So Yong’s dispassionate tone belies the weight of emotions behind her words. She is detached, as if she is talking about a stranger’s life, and it frustrates Cheoljong; he’d rather see her angry, or spiteful, not this unfeeling shell of a person. 

“You never told anyone,” he says. A curiosity, not a question. 

It torments Cheoljong knowing she carried the secret alone. But in the same breath, he feels relieved, knowing the truth of that night would have cost him everything, his life included. 

“I think I already have the answer, but I will ask anyway. Tell me why you let me visit my father that day when he fell ill.” So Yong’s voice remains hollow, and his heart aches with each unfeeling word she speaks. “You weren’t as considerate before,” she adds.

Cheoljong remembers that day when she came to Seonjeongjeon. Hwa Jin was there with him, and he was surprised to see So Yong; it wasn’t like her to come unannounced. He assumed it was because of Hwa Jin, that So Yong was there to throw a tantrum, assert her position as the next queen. He played it so well, deliberately toying with her. 

“We needed a distraction to search your father’s house. Between him being sick, and you being there, we assumed your household servants would be distracted. I didn’t count on you staying by your father’s side that night”

So Yong speaks out of turn. “What was your plan had I fought back, or father did… would you have murdered either of us?” 

Cheoljong shuts his eyes. He could have.  “Thankfully it didn’t come to that,” he says evasively. 

At So Yong’s silence, he continues. “I suppose this is a topic we must discuss at some point. To me, your father is nothing but a corrupt official. I’m sorry; I know my apology does not mean much now, but there were just too many misunderstandings. The situation wasn’t ideal”

When So Yong doesn’t respond, Cheoljong turns to check if she has drifted to sleep. She hasn’t; she’s staring quietly at the ceiling. There is an unyielding quality to her that he has never quite understood– a combination of sleet and steel that she hides just beneath her quiet demeanor “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“He is my father and he is still your father-in-law.” She murmurs, before slipping back into the same huddled anger that had tightened her shoulders earlier in the pavilion.

"I know… I'm sorry that you were there and I hurt you."

“I see.”

He expects her anger, her spite.. maybe even her disgust. He braced for it, perhaps, even wished for it. 

But he gets none of those,  just a casual dismissal, and it irks him so. It is one of the worst feelings in the world– to not matter anymore. 

“You must look like your mother,” he blurts without thinking.

She sighs audibly. She takes her arms out of the covers, and drops them just above her stomach, clasping her hands. “That’s what my father says,” she says, her tone pensive, distant, woeful. "I never met her."

He gives her a sideways glance. He can relate to that, growing up without a mother.

And then he remembers his self-disgust at the amount of mental energy he spent on wondering why she and her father are so different. Slowly, stealthily, the disgust turned into curiosity. Then came another emotion: a terrifyingly soft sentiment that he was too cowardly to name. He locked it inside the deepest corners of his heart. 

Cheoljong suspects that the same emotion is back. This time, stronger. More willful.

They are both quiet for sometime, he assumes she's done playing. Until, "Tell me how Director Hong and Prince Yeongpyeong  reacted after you told them about my offer. They are loyal to you.” 

Cheoljong wonders how to answer. He didn’t tell either Hong or Yeongpyeong because that makes the queen's offer final. He didn't want it to be. “I haven’t told them. Not yet,” he equivocates. Before she could ask why, he adds, “I want to see the ledgers first.”

“Then we must go to my father’s house. Soon. We need to find those ledgers. My father must have transferred them somewhere. That little thievery trick you pulled spooked him, so he must have moved them to a much safer place. Some place hidden. Under lock and key. But not too far that he cannot keep an eye on them.” So Yong turns to face him. “We need to find a good cover story about why we both need to be at my father’s house.”

Cheoljong turns too, their faces align perfectly in the dark. He can see the pale sheen of moonlight across her face. “Any ideas?” he asks softly, gazing into her eyes. 

“Actually, I do.” So Yong replies, averting her gaze. She turns again, facing the other way, as though his proximity unnerves her. 

She tells him of her idea, and he smiles. She really is quite clever, he muses. Devious even.

The room is filled with empty silence once more, and he scrambles to fill it. He gazes into her form, inches away, but completely beyond his reach. 

“Why didn't you tell anyone it was me that night,” he asks softly, hoping she’s still up.  

The thought that she carried the burden alone unsettles him, but to his dismay, his question is met with silence. 

--

So Yong pretends not to hear Cheoljong’s question, while staring blankly at a patch of moonlight on the floor. After some time, she hears Cheoljong's quiet, even breaths fill the air, his body succumbing to restful slumber.

When sleep eventually claims So Yong, her last thoughts are of Cheoljong, and her reason for keeping his secret.

I don't want to put your life in danger again. Like when I told the servant about the well.

Chapter Text

“I need time off to relax… the events of the last few weeks have taken a toll on me”, So Yong reasons out calmly. “Rest will help me conceive faster,” she implores the Dowager Queen. She and Cheoljong thought of using conception as bait, knowing full well how important it is for the Kim clan to secure their power. In the early morning, So Yong pays the Dowager Queen a visit. Her maid is busy performing an unorthodox facial massage, stretching her skin like an elastic - one that So Yong has never really seen, or heard of before. She hides her amusement. The Dowager Queen may be the most powerful woman in all of Joseon, but even she cannot cheat time.

The Dowager Queen lifts her perfectly shaped eyebrow but makes no comment on her request. Instead, she goes off on a tangent. “Is there anything about the king you want to share?” So Yong understands what she is asking. They expect her to spy on her husband's whereabouts, and she pretends to agree, if only to buy herself time and gain their trust.

“He spends his nights with Director Hong and Prince Yeongpyeong playing tujeon. I need to find out if that is all they do,” she tells her.  So Yong suspects they had someone following her husband’s every move, so her clan must be aware of her husband’s nocturnal activities at Director Hong’s residence. There is no harm in sharing it. She suspects Byeong In keeps the Dowager Queen and Kim Jwa Geun apprised of his investigation on the night raids, so she’s not really sharing anything they don’t already know. “Sometimes, he spends the night at the Royal Villa, with Jo Hwa Jin,” she adds impassively. Not a secret either. She then makes a mental note to catch up with Kim Hwan soon. 

The dowager queen gives her a meaningful look. “She cannot conceive earlier than you do.”

So Yong knows an opening when she sees one, so she steers the conversation back to her main agenda. “Yes, your Majesty. That’s why I think I need time away from the palace for a few days. The royal physician said that if my body is relaxed, it will increase my chances of conception.”

She motions the maid to stop pulling at her facial muscles, then stretches her jaw. If she isn’t so terrifying, she’d look so comical. “The king defended you the other day. The Jo clan, overreaching as usual, appealed to depose you.” She is watching her very closely, like a predator stalking its prey.

So Yong is astonished to hear this. “His Majesty defended me?” she repeats, she could not hide the surprise from her voice. “I think he’s starting to trust me.” It isn’t exactly a lie, but the Dowager Queen does not need to know the specifics. She seems pleased with this information. She smirks – the expression is eerily similar to a tiger baring her teeth before jumping on an unsuspecting gazelle.

“One of these days, I will find the right opportunity to teach that pesky concubine of his a lesson.” Her face contorts in disgust, like the face you make when you see dirt at the bottom of your shoe.

I can get behind that. "There is no need for that, Your Highness. I have it covered.”

“You are a clever girl, Kim So Yong” She fixes So Yong a look that’s not quite proud, but not quite condescending either.

---

So Yong and Cheoljong are in the royal palanquin, on the way to her father’s house. He is dressed in purple, a color she has never seen on him before, but it looks great on him, nonetheless. It annoys her. She has to stop noticing such trivial things about him, if she wants to leave the palace with her heart in one piece. They sit in comfortable silence watching people they pass by.

“You’re a clever woman, My Queen” the king says, breaking the silence. Scheming with his wife is turning out to be a rather enjoyable endeavor.

“The dowager queen told me the same thing.” She is still looking out the road, observing people with their tattered clothes and their grim expressions. She notices a young girl, maybe the age of five crying, and a mother carrying her child.

The king is quiet, and So Yong could feel his gaze on her. She continues to speak as her eyes observe people on the street. “Your Majesty, when you need something from others, you must appeal to their self-interest, not their kindness. If they think you share the same goal, you’d be amazed by just how much they’re willing to help you. Never ask for favors.”

“You speak like someone who’s been doing this for a long time.”

This time she turns her head to look at him; her expression is stern, but her tone is teasing. “Your Majesty, you had me pegged as the villain since that first day I walked in Seonjeongjeon Hall, and yet you’re surprised that I know these things?”

For a second, remorse crosses his face, but grins when he realizes the humor in her words. “Okay, tell me what else your father taught you.”

She shrugs. “Well, he didn’t actually teach me these things, but I picked up a few things here and there. You learn a lot by observing people.”

Cheoljong lifts an eyebrow, “Okay, what else have you picked up then?”

So Yong knows he is humoring her, but she gives his question some thought. Her voice turns serious. “You must crush your enemies completely. Do not give them an opportunity to regroup and exact their revenge later.” They both know she isn’t just talking about some random lesson she learned from her clan. “If tended to, even dying embers can burn down a house.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you.” He swears to her, surprised just by how much he means it.

“You really should worry about yourself first.”

They stay quiet the rest of the way.

It was mid-morning, and despite herself, So Yong is excited to see her father. She’s looking forward to spending a few days at the place where she grew up. She cannot wait to visit her mother’s favorite brook. She and the king can do the sleuthing at night, but during the day, she is fairly content to be just her old self. If her plans pan out, she might never see her childhood home again.

Kim Mun Geun is waiting for them by the roadside; to a casual observer, he is just another father waiting for his daughter’s return. Cheoljong notices the old man’s warm smile the moment he sees her daughter. He appears to be a typical doting father, but Cheoljong knows better. Inside, Kim Mun Geun is just as rotten as they come. He is the same vile old man who had locked him up in that well years ago. He puts on his mask to appear like a devoted husband and a good son-in-law. It is not in his best interest to ruffle feathers.

“Your Majesty!” Kim Mun Geun greets him warmly, bowing in respect, as he walks closer.

“Father, you did not have to wait for us by the roadside!” So Yong admonishes him.

Kim Mun Geun then ushers them inside. So Yong trails him happily. For a moment she forgets about the purpose of their visit, or her plans to leave everything behind.

Cheoljong cannot help but notice the extra spring in his wife’s step; it was subtle, but it was there. He cannot help but smile too.

---

“A lot has changed, Father!” So Yong exclaims as soon as they are seated inside her old home. Kim Mun Geun is serving the king and queen some tea. “Has it been so long since I have been here?”

“Ah yes, your Highness. We have fortified the walls and added a few more warehouses after that incident” Kim Mun Geun poures tea into the cups.

Cheoljong and So Yong exchange meaningful glances, but she immediately turns her attention back to her father. They chat some more about the recent renovations.

Cheoljong knows exactly which incident it is. He steals a surreptitious glance at So Yong, but she does not seem the least but perturbed by the topic. He is. In fact, his gaze goes involuntarily to her neck, at a barely visible scar she’s tries to hide underneath her clothes. He knows it makes her self-conscious. Cheoljong recognizes the mannerism she developed after the incident; she traces the scar unconsciously when she’s anxious.

“Your Majesty, I hope you are comfortable in our humble home,” he hears Kim Mun Geun address him. The home is far from humble, it speaks of privilege and wealth, but he thought it wise not to antagonize his host.

He points at the expensive-looking folding screen behind Kim Mun Geun. “You have a good eye for fine things.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. I had this commissioned after renovating this room.” He says proudly, turning around to admire the screen himself.

“What do you think about this screen, My Queen?”

So Yong wrinkles her nose. She knows Cheoljong does not really care about the screen, but she responds anyway. “It is a splendid landscape painting. Strong brushstrokes…. It must have fetched quite the price, father” She was just about to stop at that but then she decides to show off, if only to annoy her husband. “It is an erudite and profound painting. It doesn’t only show the painter’s unique brushstroke style, but his deep and intimate commune with nature. The grandiose landscape evokes a feeling that our lives are fleeting, that we are guests, not masters of nature.” She gives Cheoljong a smug look after.

Cheoljong is astonished; sometimes he forgets just how high-born his wife his, and that behind her beguiling smile, is a keen and discerning mind. He turns his attention back to Kim Mun Geun.“You keep all those valuable items here. Are you not concerned about the intruders coming back?”

To this So Yong listens intently. If she and Cheoljong are to search for the ledgers, they need to know what they are up against.

“I have doubled the guards, Your Majesty, but these are just trained servants. It is far more dangerous to hire people I don’t know, but I make sure we have enough eyes that patrol the property at night.”

“So how many people do you have covering the property at night?”

Kim Mun Geun looks at Cheoljong suspiciously. He hesitates to answer.

Cheoljong hastily adds, “I worry because the queen is here. I don’t like her going through the same ordeal.”

Kim So Yong is visibly annoyed at the audacity of Cheoljong last statement. The nerve. Kim Mun Geun misconstrues it as anxiety, so he rushes to assure her daughter. “My daughter, you don’t have to worry. We have ten guards patrolling the property at night. I will have two posted outside your room.”

“The won’t be necessary,” Cheoljong interrupts. “My guards are here, they will protect her, no matter what.”

Before Kim Mun Geun can reply, a servant interrupts them. “You have a visitor,” he says from the other side of the sliding door. “Master Byeong In is here.”

As soon as Kim Mun Geun leaves, So Yong glowers at Cheoljong. “I don’t like her going through the same ordeal?!” So Yong repeats Cheoljong’s earlier statement incredulously.

He at least has the decency to look contrite. So Yong huffs and heads out the door.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“Byeong In’s here!” she responds happily.

Cheoljong is annoyed but follows her closely behind.

------

Byeong In and Kim Mun Geun are deep in conversation in the open area right outside the house. Byeong In sees So Yong as as she steps out of the house. His smile widens as she saunters towards him. His grim expression gives way to reverence. “Your Highness.” His gaze lingers for a little longer than necessary.

He sees Cheoljong behind her and greets him politely, but his expression is the exact opposite of what he gave So Yong.

Cheoljong does not miss the soft lingering looks Byeong In gives So Yong, and it annoys him.  He hears her ask, “Byeong-In! What brings you here?” and it incensed him.

Instead of replying directly to So Yong, he looks at Cheoljong as if to accuse him of something. “We are in the area investigating the recent robberies, but I hear His Majesty and Your Highness are here, so we made a pit stop.” He turns his attention to So Yong and his tender expression is back. “You should see the rapeseed fields… they are in full bloom.”

“Oh really? I must find time then.”

Cheoljong vaguely remembers So Yong telling him about the rapeseed flowers, and it incensed him further that Byeong In and his wife have a shared history of these rapeseed fields.

“It is good that you are here,” Kim Mun Geun tells Byeong In. “His Majesty just raised concerns about security earlier. Maybe you can stay longer?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Cheoljong interrupts Kim Mun Geun. He clasps his hands behind his back. “I brought the Royal Guards. They are more than capable of protecting the queen.”

“Then you can send your guards back to the palace. My men will ensure her safety,” he shoots back.

“It is the job of the Royal Guards to protect the king and queen, not the Depart of Justice,” Cheoljong's voice is low, but his tone is grave.

Byeong In clenches his jaw and grinds his teeth. “The Department of Justice serves the King and Queen. You can keep the Royal Guards if you want, but we will protect the queen”

“Are you really going to waste resources?” Cheoljong stance is relaxed but his tone is smug and snooty.

So Yong and Kim Mun Geun are shocked to see the antagonistic exchange between Cheoljong and Byeong In. So Yong is confused why Byeong In is unnecessarily belligerent, while Cheoljong is more combative than usual. So Yong feels as if she’s missing the context of the heated exchange, but she recognizes that having Byeong In around will only make their plans more complicated. She is about to intervene but Cheoljong speaks again in that low condescending tone that is distinctly his.

“The queen does not need you here. You and your men’s presence will only stress her out. She needs time away from the palace to relax. It would make it easier for her to conceive.”

So Yong almost choked.

Byeong In regards Cheoljong in open hostility, while Cheoljong’s face is the perfect picture of smug indifference.

It is Kim Mun Geun who intervenes. He addresses Byeong In hesitantly “Maybe you and your men can patrol the area outside, make sure the walls aren’t breached…. my servants and the king’s guards will keep His Majesty and Her Highness safe.”

Wordlessly, Byeong-In walks away.

---

A little later, So Yong finds herself walking around the property with Cheoljong. So Yong points at two new structures, “Those are new installations. They are also directly visible from my father's room. If he is keeping those ledgers somewhere here, they’ve got to be in there, or in his room. He won’t let it out of his sight.”

A few servants pass by, carrying heavy bags. “Your servants are strong and nimble.”

“Yes, father trained them. They can do well enough in a fight, so they double as guards. He does not like outsiders inside his home.” They continued to walk towards the warehouses.

Cheoljong inspects the place, thinking of a strategy. “I’ll come check later” he says, almost to himself.

“You? Alone?” So Yong chuckles, “Absolutely not. I’m coming with you.”

Cheoljong is about to argue but he hears servants coming their way. The place is always guarded, he thought. And then he sees it. The well. It is all he could see.

He recognizes the signs of anxiety so he turns around so abruptly and walks away briskly, leaving a shocked So Yong behind.

“Your Majesty, what’s wrong?” She chases after him and puts his hand on his arm. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“I… I.. I’m alright” Cheoljong replies through gritted teeth. So Yong isn’t so convinced. “I’m just lightheaded from not getting enough sleep last night. Let’s just go back inside.”

Something is definitely off with him, So Yong thought.  She looks back to check. She sees it. The well. At the far corner of the property. Some wounds are too deep to heal, she thought sadly, as she walks by his side towards the house. She decides not to ask further. If he is ready, maybe he'll tell her.

When they are inside Cheoljong's room, she pours water onto a cup and offers it to him, “Do you want to lie down?” she asks softly.

Cheoljong gives her an insincere smile. “I’m alright, I’m just winded from today’s travel.” They both know he’s lying, and Cheoljong is grateful that So Yong doesn’t push it.

So Yong thought of distracting him to relax his mind. “Do you remember what I told you about a field of rapeseed flowers not too far from here?”

Cheoljong nods. He is unsure why she’s asking.

“Do you want to see to it?”

Chapter Text

Cheoljong and So Yong let go of their royal garbs and get into something a little more…. plebeian.

They are now outside, walking towards the field of rapeseeds. From afar, Cheoljong catches a glimpse of a field of yellow, and he is all too happy that So Yong is sharing this place with him. 

So Yong steals a glance at Cheoljong and is relieved that the look of terror is gone from his face. He looks more relaxed, a complete departure from the standoffish king she has come to know. He is wearing green, and is looking every bit a nobleman, but she is still getting used to Cheoljong not wearing his royal robes. She chuckles. Cheoljong lifts an eyebrow in question.

“I’ve never seen you in anything so….plain,” she tells him.

The fabric is nowhere near plain, he is still a king after all. “Are you saying I look terrible?” He gives her a slow knowing smile that makes the butterflies in her stomach take flight.

“No, you’re quite charming, as it were, Your Majesty.” The words are out before she could take them back. 

Cheoljong’s ensuing smile is brighter than the afternoon sun, and despite herself, So Yong laughs.

“Are you saying I'm charming?” His mouth curls in a smile and his eyes are twinkling.

So Yong notices the little creases at the side of his eyes. He’s never smiled at her like this before: genuine, warm, teasing, and her heart thuds in her chest. 

“Are you fishing for compliments?” she replies facetiously, “It's unbecoming of a king to do so.” She walks ahead of him, so he doesn’t see her blushing. 

“Do you really have to walk that fast?” he calls out to her. 

They reach the field of yellow and she sighs, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

Cheoljong isn’t looking at the flowers, or the sky, or anything else. He’s looking at her: the little flush on her face after walking under the sun, that alluring mole on her cheek, the barely-visible scar on her neck, the delicate curve of her neck... “Yes” he said, “beautiful.”

It is at that moment that So Yong decides to turn her head and look at him. She catches the intense look in his eyes, and her heart does a tiny little dance. 

“Come on!” she says as she ambles towards the field. “There’s something else I want to show you.”

They walked in companionable silence for a little while, admiring the scenery, until they reach a small brook. There is a large tree close to the edge of the water, and a couple of birds are perched on the biggest branch. An old wooden bench underneath it completes the picturesque view. So Yong walks towards the bench excitedly, then turns around briefly to give him another one of her bright smiles - one that looks like a sudden burst of sunlight on a stormy day.  She cocks her head towards the bench,  beckoning him to sit with her.  

“My father said that my mother used to sit by this bench when she was pregnant.” She gives Cheoljong a sideway glance.

He sits quietly next to her, taking in the view.  “Is that why you love this place?” He finds himself relaxing to the soft sound of the babbling brook.

“Yes. I never saw my mother of course, so I come here. It makes me feel closer to her." She gives Cheoljong a side-glance, and smiles wistfully. "We also used to play here when we were younger. I used to hide it from my father though.” She laughs softly. 

“We?”

“Oh, me, Kim Hwan and Kim Byeong In” she makes a tiny dismissive gesture with her hands and smiles wistfully. “It was a long time ago” 

At the mention of Byeong In’s name, Cheoljong’s expression turn sour. He cannot believe that So Yong holds that pompous tool in such high regard. He lets it go.

“When you asked me to let you go, what did you mean exactly?” The question has been eating Cheoljong for a while now, and he doesn’t know how to broach the subject. Or maybe he was afraid to know that she’s made up her mind. 

Her dark chocolate eyes turn sad as she stares at the brook. One bird that was once perched on the branch above them flaps its wings and flies away. “I figured you are behind the counterfeit identities.”

Cheoljong knows it wouldn't be long before their identities are discovered, but he is astounded to realize that even his wife knows about it. He is going to ask her about it later, but for now, he wants to hear her about plans.

She continues to stare at the steady stream of water from the brook. “I figured you can get me a new identity, so I can live as someone else, far away from here. Somewhere I can be free. I thought maybe you can help me stage my death….?” She looks at him and gives him a tremulous smile. “And then maybe you can pretend to mourn me a little?” 

Cheoljong’s heart slams against his ribs with sickening dread. She really is serious about leaving it all behind, about leaving him. 

“I cannot live in constant fear of being deposed, or for the axe to finally fall. The threats - ”

“Threats? What does that mean?”

So Yong clasps her hands together. Cheoljong turns his head sideways to look at her. “You don’t need to be burdened by such things. They will be over once you are in power, and I am gone.” 

“Tell me just the same.” 

“You once said, you will never fulfill your obligations as husband. But an heir is critical to our clan. I will be… My father.. “

“They threatened you?” he asks plainly. He wouldn’t put it past her clan, but it seems so ridiculous.

“A lot is riding on an heir, Your Majesty.  I want to protect my father. You may not think much of him, but he is my father."

Cheoljong is angry, but more to himself. “You don’t have to go” he says instead, “If we win our fight, and we will, nobody can threaten you anymore.” 

“That is a nice thought, but I also want children, I want to be a mother, I want to belong to a family. One that you and I will never be." This time he looks at her. "That is why you need to let me go."

"We could be that, if it's want you want." 

"Could be?" she repeats his words then chuckles. "I deserve more than that a 'could be.' We both do."

“What about your father?” He asks, dejected. 

“He will mourn me, for sure”. A rogue tear escapes her eye. She wipes it away vigorously, angry at herself. “But he will move on eventually.” 

Cheoljong is silent for a moment. “You really are leaving.” he says softly, his tone laced with bitterness and regret. 

They are quiet for a while, lost in their own thoughts.

Roughly engraved characters on the bench catches his eye. He traces it with his hands. Suddenly curious, he looks more closely to inspect the engravings. He realizes that he is sitting on some of the words, so he stands up to read them. “Someone defaced your bench” he tells her.

He is surprised to see So Yong smiling. 

“I engraved those, Your Majesty”. 

“What are these?” he asks, suddenly very curious. 

Dark clouds started to gather in the distance. He feels the sudden chill in the breeze, but So Yong seems unfazed. “Every year on my birthday, since I was ten, I would come here to make a wish. Because this is where my mother  loved to sit when she was pregnant, I engraved my wishes on this bench. It was my own way of sharing it with her."

Cheoljong remembers the eunuch telling him about her birthday and her mother’s memorial falling on the same day.  He counted the rows and noticed it was missing one. “You meant eleven.” He corrects her. “It’s missing one.”

She shakes her head. She reaches out to trace the engravings with her index finger. “I missed one.”

Cheoljong is reading the engravings, but some were quite old, so it is difficult to make sense of them. “You father won’t let you go?” he says in jest, imagining an eleven year old So Yong, probably using a rock to engrave something on the bench.

“I had too many tasks that day at the palace.”

A memory flashes across Cheoljong’s mind and he feels as if someone grabbed his heart and squeezed it.  “Your father came to visit. I ordered the tutors to double your lessons.” He says, as bitter realization hits him. “I’m so sorry, My Queen. I’m so sorry” He reaches out to take her hand, but she clenches her fist, and she draws away from him. 

Maybe she really is better off without me he thought, but the idea of not ever seeing her anymore, hurt him more than he expected. 

So Yong doesn’t respond, instead she says “We should head back. We don’t want to be late for dinner.”

As if on cue, lightning flashes across the sky, followed by loud thunder. So Yong jumps. “We should go!” 

Cheoljong stands up but makes no sign of hurrying up.

“Your Majesty, we’re going to be late for dinner! And I don’t want to get drenched in the rain!” 

He retains his current leisurely pace. Cheoljong just gives her that charming smile that makes his eyes twinkle.

His smile warmed So Yong all the way down her toes. She cannot help but smile back. “You’re going to have to walk faster. Look!” She gestures towards the storm clouds coming in. “We probably need to make a run for it.” 

“A king doesn’t run,” he says haughtily.

So Yong smiles wider, and despite the darkened skies, Cheoljong’s life got a little brighter. 

“Very well. I will see you at home!” She spins on her heel to make a break for it but Cheoljong grabs her arm firmly.

“Oho! You will dare leave your king behind?” He is still teasing her. 

She turns to face him and rolls her eyes. She then fixes him a look that's half stern, half teasing. It  disappears slowly behind the clouds the moment she realizes how foreboding his words are. I will, she thought. 

Cheoljong realizes it too, for in that moment, his face gradually turns serious “You will,” he says softly. He tucks an errant hair behind her ear, his eyes following the movement, and then he let his hands drop. They stand there by the brook, under dark gray skies, gazing meaningfully at each other, but not daring to say anything. 

The first drops of rain fall on Cheoljong’s face. “I changed my mind.” He says. His teasing tone is back. He grabs So Yong by the arm and they both make a run for it.  Cheoljong cannot remember the last time he ran in the rain.

By the time they reach her father’s home, both Cheoljong and So Yong are soaking wet. They stare at each and laugh at the absurdity of a king and queen, both drenched in the rain. They both headed inside right away. “I don’t suppose you’ll miss the rain,” Cheoljong says lightly. 

So Yong huffs. “Rain is not exclusive to this place, Your Majesty.” Cheoljong’s room is nowhere near hers, but he walks with her down the hallway. So Yong is wise enough not to say anything. 

“So you won’t miss the court either.”

So Yong makes a gagging sound. Cheoljong chuckles. He really likes this side of her. 

“No, thank you very much, Your Majesty” she says. 

 “I'll miss you though,” So Yong blurts out before she can stop herself. “I mean.. I’ll miss this. I’ll miss …” Hmmm. “This whole situation with us isn't as unbearable as it used to be.”       

Us. That word goes straight to Cheoljong's heart, like an arrow hitting its target - swift, precise, excruciating. 

“I didn't realize a king's presence is so unbearable.” He goes for light humor, his eyes warm as he gives her a slow smile that burrows itself into her heart and into a special place that causes the butterflies in her stomach to flutter their wings eagerly.    

“Well, you are insufferable." She needs the levity to keep things away from dangerous, uncharted territory. 

He looks amused at her weak attempt to keep things light. His smile turns a bit smug, as though he knows she's about to keel over from being this close to him. “Well, I’ll see you at dinner … .” He says lamely as they reach the end of the darkened hallway. 

He makes no attempt to leave, nor does she open the doors to her room. They stand face-to-face awkwardly, neither speaking the words they cannot yet say. 

So Yong steps to the side towards her room. Cheoljong moves at the same time in an attempt to move out of her way, but he moves in the same direction as she does, blocking her path. So Yong moves to the opposite side just as he does the same, so they’re doing that awkward “you go, no, you go” dance.       

So Yong lets out a tiny chuckle, but it’s more of a gasp because she suddenly realizes how close they are. She freezes, her eyes lifting involuntarily to meet his.

There’s no hint of a smile on his face now, and his light brown eyes turn dark and hot as they lock onto hers, all levity replaced by intense longing.        

His head dips lower, and she feels his breath on her cheek. “My queen.”    

“Your Majesty,” she whispers back.      

He swallows and eases even closer, his gaze leaving hers to drop to her lips.  He lifts his hand and lightly traces the outline of her lips with his thumb.      

His eyes close, but other than that he doesn’t move, his expression is as tortured as she feels. 

“You’re leaving?” he says on a breath, his voice rough.

So Yong doesn’t answer, she doesn't trust herself to speak. She gambled on her heart before and she lost. This time, she needs solid ground to stand on. Give me a reason to stay, she pleads silently instead.

Her eyes drift closed as she feels his breath against her lips, and even though she's afraid of what it might do to her already battered heart, she wills him silently to kiss her. When she leaves, she will have at least a memory of his kiss. Just this once.

Time stands still as they gazed at each other, so close, but not touching, and not moving away from each other either, a million things passing between them that neither wants to say.      

He cradles her face, his thumb caressing her face ever so gently. “You're leaving,” he whispers. It is no longer a question.

"I need to go," So Yong says finally. There is a tiny hitch in her voice.  "There is nothing for me here." It takes every ounce of her strength to look away. 

He steps back so suddenly and the temperature in the hallway drops, the cold seeping into her  heart. 

"I'll see you later,” he says, his voice rough as he moves further back, trying to keep a respectable no-touch distance away from her.    

She can only nod, not trusting herself to speak. Her eyes water as she moves quickly past him. It was only when she closes the sliding doors does she realize that he didn't tell her he'd miss her too.

Chapter Text

Us . The word plays on an infinite loop in Cheoljong's head. He closes his eyes, letting self-loathing wash over him.  Thoughts of So Yong weigh heavily on him… in fact, the queen has been at the forefront of his mind for a while now.  

He doesn't bother to turn on the lamps before taking off his wet garments and slipping into something dry. In frustration, he tosses his rain-soaked clothes with more force than necessary. It lands on the floor with a satisfying splat, but it does nothing to lift his sour mood.

The rain outside has petered out, but inside him, the turbulence is only getting stronger. Shame, regret, and fear consume him. There is another emotion that creeps surreptitiously into his heart, an emotion he is still too terrified to name. It is soft and gentle like a lullaby, but strong and willful like a gust of wind. 

Cheoljong longs to stroll down the field of yellow flowers once more, or take So Yong’s hand for a walk under a sea of stars. He wants to take advantage of their newfound alliance and see where it leads to. And oh, how he aches to explore where it would lead to. What it would lead to. 

The heart is a tenacious beast.  

He thinks back to that moment in the hallway when she peered at him through thick lashes, her mouth parting… looking as if she wanted what he wanted. He remembers the beckoning gleam in the blacks of her eyes. He wonders what it would have been like to give his body what it longs for… to touch her. At the thought, he feels his nerve endings come to life, his blood feels hot and thick in his veins.

But in the same instant, her voice– resigned and distant– echoes through his mind. "There is nothing for me here," she said meekly. 

Dangerous. The ease by which her company begins to mean everything to him, the temptation to promise her his own soul. 

That brief moment in the hallway made him yearn for more… unsettling him profoundly, because more than anything, he wants to kiss her, hold her and never let go. He wants to turn back time and start over. He... wants her.

--- 

Kim Mun Geun spared no expense at dinner; it is quite literally a feast worthy of a king. The wide assortment of pastries, rice cakes, fish and meat is nothing So Yong has ever seen in her life before. 

They are seated at the wide open balcony, overlooking the hills; Cheoljong to her left, and her father sits across from her. The skies have cleared, leaving only scattered patches of gray. The sunset in the horizon renders the skies orange and purple. The astounding sight reminds So Yong just how beautiful her childhood home is. But neither the stunning scenery nor the scrumptious feast soothe her rattled nerves. 

What had she been thinking? So Yong’s mind keeps drifting back to the hallway, not really comprehending the reasons why she had dared to hope once more, wondering yet again whether she’s ready to walk away from Cheoljong… and from everything else. 

What a fickle little thing, the heart! 

Cheoljong has been giving her furtive glances since she arrived for dinner. She ignores him largely, but no matter her efforts, she can feel his eyes each time his gaze lands on her… like a jolt of heated awareness. His proximity is doing strange things to her heart… sneaky, fluttery, unwelcome things. 

She is glad for her father’s company, who, much to her delight, is completely oblivious to the brewing tension between her and Cheoljong. His face lights up each time Cheoljong speaks to him, and while Cheoljong’s words are less than sincere, she is happy to see her father looking so pleased. 

“The view from here is spectacular,” declares Cheoljong, but So Yong keeps her attention on the food. It is difficult to focus on anything else other than his voice, but So Yong is steadfast in her resolve to ignore his presence. Not out of spite, but self-preservation.

“The hills are even more magnificent when the hills are covered in snow,” her father responds proudly, making a sweeping gesture with his arm.

“I have always wanted to see the place where my queen grew up.” He gives Kim Mun Geun a disarming smile. “If I knew it is this beautiful, I would have come sooner. I apologize that it took this long to visit.”

So Yong can feel Cheoljong’s eyes on her once more; feels the prickle of heat on her face. It is becoming more and more difficult to sustain her mask of indifference, with Cheoljong seated next to her. She continues to focus on eating… chewing slowly, carefully, like it is the most important task in the world.

“There is no need to apologize, Your Majesty. I am just relieved to see you two happy, together. I will die a happy man!” Kim Mun Geun returns gleefully, then looks at So Yong. She lifts her head to respond with a crooked smile.

“You have raised her well,” he says plainly, stealing a glance at So Yong once more, seemingly in an effort to include her in the conversation. 

But So Yong knows Cheoljong is laying it on thick, and her father is eating it all up. She bites back impertinent words and resists the urge to roll her eyes.  

“I did. She grew up without a mother, so I always paid extra attention to her. I wanted to make sure she gets all the care she needs,” she hears her father say wistfully. 

Kim Mun Geun gives her that adoring look fathers reserve for their daughters.  “She was a precocious child, learning so many things at an early age.” His eyes turn regretful and adds, “But in some ways, she’s a lot more like her mother: kind, optimistic, graceful.”

“That must have been difficult for you, raising a daughter on your own.” 

So Yong’s patience nears its end. She does not appreciate Cheoljong’s patronizing tone, but thought it wise not to comment. She makes a mental note to chastise him later when her father is out of earshot. In the meantime, she’d let her father think she and the king are doing well together. The less he knows about their situation, the better. 

“No, not at all, Your Majesty. Her Highness has always done well on her own.” Kim Mun Geun declares proudly once more, giving So Yong another affectionate smile.  “I could not have been prouder as a father.” 

So Yong hears her father's love and pride in his voice, and in that moment, she swears she would do anything to protect him. “She may be like her mother, but she’s also a lot like me,” Kim Mun Geun adds… almost like an afterthought.

Finally, So Yong dares to steal a glance at Cheoljong. His expression darkens a little, looking meaningfully at So Yong.

That’s right, I am my father’s daughter too , she says silently. She holds his gaze defiantly, demonstrating a type of impertinence she fails to suppress.

“I find it difficult sometimes to understand her.” Cheoljong says, still looking her in the eye. Then he turns his attention back to Kim Mun Geun once more. “She is kind like you said, but she can also be cold, stubborn and completely unpredictable.”

So Yong feels as though she’s being scrutinized in public; she shoots Cheoljong a withering glare. Much to her annoyance, her father remains awestruck by the king’s attention on him, impervious to her festering irritation. 

Kim Mun Geun gives Cheoljong a conspiratorial smile. “I learned, Your Majesty, that a woman’s mind is the most difficult thing to understand.”

“Misunderstandings are the hallmark  of every happy marriage.” So Yong blurts out tersely, sending her father a toothy grin, then glares at Cheoljong once more.

She is met with a pair of warm brown eyes. When he speaks, his voice is solemn.  “I do not wish to misunderstand you anymore, My Queen.” 

Her eyes sting as he says the words she'd once long to hear. There is a quiet intensity there, as if the words are a vow. For a moment, she thought perhaps he might feel the same way she does…then she catches herself hoping once more. She chastises herself and dismisses the sentiment. The warmth in his eyes… It is a trick of the light. Nothing more, she tells herself sternly.

Perhaps to her father, Cheoljong is every bit the devoted husband, but So Yong should know better. It flusters her how a small gesture could still make her heart sing. Vexed at her own body’s reaction, she mouths  “Stop it” to Cheoljong irritably. 

Out of the corner of her eye, So Yong sees her father avert his gaze and pretends to pour liquid into his cup… as though he’s giving the two of them a moment. It flusters So Yong even more. 

What game is Cheoljong playing? she wonders. Now that it should no longer matter, he’s showing her everything she'd spent months hoping he would be. His words and actions should not mean anything to her anymore.

With superior effort, So Yong blocks Cheoljong’s disconcerting presence the rest of dinner, chiming in only when asked directly by her father. It worked well until Kim Mun Geun calls a servant to bring “a favorite” of hers.

Intrigued and apprehensive at the same time she waits for the servant to return. Much to her consternation, the servant comes back carrying her old gayageum . He carefully positions the instrument next to her. A wave of panic unfurls across her skin.

"I miss hearing you play the gayageum, my child. Why don't you play it for us, if the king would be so inclined.” Kim Mun Geun looks at  So Yong expectantly.

"Oh. I have not played the gayageum in a while, father.” She shakes her head and holds up her hands, hoping the gesture would convey her refusal. “I would sound terrible.” 

Kim Mun Geun ignores her modest refusal, and instead speaks directly to Cheoljong. "Her Highness plays the gayageum very well, Your Majesty. She takes after her mother." So Yong detects a whisper of sadness in his voice at the mention of her mother. "Her mother used to play it when she was pregnant. I think that's why she plays it so well"

"I would love to hear you play," Cheoljong says, looking at her expectantly. His tone is warm, almost imploring, and so much different from the contemptuous demeanor she has grown accustomed to. 

Outnumbered, So Yong lets out a sigh. She moves closer to the musical instrument and plays a tune she learned when she was young. It is a safe bet; she can play this tune in her sleep. As soon as she hits the first notes, her hands take a life of their own, reminding her just how much she loves the stringed instrument. She closes her eyes briefly to feel the melody.

She smiles proudly when she is done. Cheoljong is looking at her strangely, while her father looks as if he’s about to tear up. “That was beautiful, my daughter,” he says. 

Thankfully, before Kim Mun Geun can request an encore, one of the servants interrupts their conversation. He tells them that something requires Kim Mun Geun’s immediate attention. Kim Mun Geun leaves the two of them in awkward silence.

Left alone with Cheoljong, So Yong's eyes dart around... pretending to admire the scenery around them. The darkness has fully descended, and the skies have cleared. The moon is bright, and the heavens twinkle with a million stars.  A cool breeze blows, and So Yong shivers a little.

"Why did you stop?" Cheoljong asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence. 

She risks a glance in Cheoljong’s direction, and she finds him looking at her. There is something about his expression that makes her heart skip a beat. She bites her inner cheek and turns in the opposite direction. 

She heaves a heavy sigh, hoping he’d take the hint. That he’d sense her discomfort and leave her alone,  but as it is with Cheoljong, he never truly paid attention to what she needs. 

“Tell me,” she hears him say gently. It isn’t exactly a command as it is a request. 

Oh. Hmmmm . "You mean, just now? My fingers hurt," she lies, refusing to meet his eyes. She doesn’t want to get into old hurts. 

"You're very talented. How come I never hear you play in the palace?" he persists, with a hint of amusement.

So Yong traces the strings of her old gayageum with her index finger. She used to love playing, but she had stopped after she moved to the palace. In fact, she excelled at it, if her tutors are to be believed. She takes a moment to breathe through her emotions. "You ordered me to stop, Your Majesty. You said it was just noise."

A heavy pause follows. One that swells between them, until disquiet settles in its place. The next thing she knows, Cheoljong inches closer and settles on the space next to her. Close. Too close. So close that So Yong can almost feel the heat emanating from his body.

As though he could read the turbulence of her thoughts, he speaks softly, kindly. "If there is a sound I would like to listen to, for the remainder of my days, it would be the sound of your laughter, and this." He gestures at the gayageum. "It's all the music I'll ever need." 

This time, So Yong looks him in the eye and finds tenderness in them. Despite everything, she smiles.

----

Much later that night...

“Are you sure your father is asleep?” Cheoljong asks So Yong in the darkness. They are in the yard, walking quietly, stealthily, towards the storage room at the other end of the property. The moon is bright, so they are careful to stay in the shadows. 

The breeze tugs at So Yong’s skirts, and for a moment she shivers. The night also gives So Yong the feeling that the two of them are alone in the world… as though, it is just her and Cheoljong. The thought thrills her. 

It is so exciting , So Yong thought. She has never done anything like it before. She smiles, giddy. Her father has always been too concerned about her welfare, her safety. Too worried is he about things unseen that he had mostly forbidden her from experiencing anything of joy.

“Are you smiling?” Cheoljong asks in surprise, glancing at her sidelong. 

“I’ve never done anything like this before!” She whispers back. “It’s so exhilarating!”

“’Dangerous’. That’s the right word to use. Not ‘exhilarating.’” He shoots back with gritted teeth. 

It is dark, but Cheoljong knows she just made a face, defiant and haughty as always. It bothers him that his wife just might take a liking to anything dangerous. 

“There.. we should start there first” So Yong points at the newly constructed storage room. They hide behind a wall in the darkness, watching for any sign of the guards.

Satisfied, they move stealthily, Cheoljong letting her take the lead, but he suddenly drops to the ground, gripping her arm and taking her down with him. 

“Your Majesty!” So Yong whispers in mild panic,  She watches him helplessly unsure what to do.  His eyes are unfocused, and his body is shaking. “What’s wrong?” she asks, but the king doesn’t respond. His breathing becomes shallow and labored. “Let me get some help!” 

The king grips her arm even tighter. “No!” he says frantically.

His gaze is fixed on something in the distance. Soyong follows it and shivers. It is the well. Again. 

She lets him hold her arm for support, willing for the panic to subside quickly. “It’s alright,” she says softly, but her own voice quivers, afraid that one of her father’s servants might walk in on them.

“It’s alright,” she says again, soothingly. His grip on her arm loosens a little, but other than that, he doesn’t move. She repeats her words without conscious thought. “Your Majesty, it’s just a well. It cannot hurt you anymore.”  

She untangles her arm from his loosened grip so she can rub his shoulders gently. Still nothing. 

“Your Majesty,” she tries again softly, but this time, she touches his cheek gently, willing him to look away from the well and look at her instead. “It's just a well,” she implores. “You’re alright.” Nothing. His eyes remain dazed, filled with terror… as if he’s seeing something else, not the well.

She keeps silent and continues to rub his arms gently. Flustered, So Yong wraps her arms around him, gently stroking his back. “You’re  alright”  she says again. She knows they are too exposed. If caught, it will be impossible to explain why they're out at such an ungodly hour. 

It may be dark, but she worries that the light from the moon is bright. She tries to stand up and pull the king with him. He rises with her, but he is unsteady on his feet. She wraps her arm around his waist, his arm on her shoulder. She motions for him to move forward, but it is difficult. He is leaning heavily on her. “Just a few steps” she coaxes him gently, quietly. She can still hear his labored breathing. 

As soon as they reach the side of the warehouse, slightly hidden from view, she turns to face Cheoljong. “It’s alright,” she says again. Beseechingly.  “It’s just a well. It cannot hurt you.” 

She wraps her arms around him and strokes his back once more, gently, reassuringly. Somehow it must have worked because his heartbeat slows to a steady even thump. 

Sensing his recovery, So Yong steps back to untangle herself from him, but Cheoljong wraps his arms around her and pulls her back in. He buries his head in the nook between her shoulder and her neck. “You’re alright” she says again. 

So Yong doesn’t know how long they stand there, in the shadows, arms wrapped around each other. Her palm on his back alternates between soft pats and gentle  strokes. She is tempted to lay her head on his chest but decides against it. The heart is too treacherous a tempest to be trifled with. 

She feels a sense of déjà vu, like she’s been in Cheoljong’s embrace before, but cannot remember. She pushes it down. It isn’t the time for old sentiments. They have a task to do. 

Slowly, everything comes back to focus. Cheoljong is used to these episodes, but they normally happen in a dream. The well must have triggered his anxiety. He becomes acutely aware of the queen’s soft embrace, and her warm hands on his back. He can smell the fragrant scent of her bath and he becomes increasingly aware of how soft her body is against his. "My queen," he said softly, his voice warm and husky. 

Soyong feels his heartbeat speed up again… or is that hers?  The movement of his lips on her neck when he speaks, feels a warm caress against her skin . She feels Cheoljong tighten his embrace, pulling her even closer.

"Hmmmm" she says, not trusting herself to speak. 

He lifts his head so he could look at her, his face a handbreadth away from hers. "It's almost daybreak" he says. "Servants will be up soon".

So Yong nods, mesmerized by the sight of him, and the feeling of his body wrapped around hers. Emboldened, she reaches up to touch his cheek, it is warm. The pale moonlight makes his features sharper but out of focus at the same time. Her hands shake, and her breathing becomes shallow, as her fingers graze the skin of his jaw. It is smooth... and hot. He is looking at her with such intensity, she thought she’d catch fire. This is the Cheoljong of her dreams.  

Cheoljong's breathing is as uneven as Soyong's. His fingers trace invisible circles on the plane of her lower back and she shivers. He wets his lips and drops his gaze to her lips. Slowly, he lifts his other hand and slips it under her braid, resting it at the base of her neck. 

"My queen," he whispers reverently before he dips his head and his lips brush hers — soft,  warm, and tentative, testing her reaction. She’s been so skittish around him the last few days. He needs to be sure she wants this kiss as much as he does. 

So Yong jumps a little when his mouth settles over hers. Her blood roars in her ears as the heat of his mouth spreads all the way down her toes. She is shocked by her body’s reaction to it. 

She is just about to give in to the kiss when he pulls back, his lips a whisper of a breath away from hers. For a moment, she thought it was over, that he is finished after just that brush of their lips. 

His gaze moves from her mouth back to her eyes several times, studying her, watching her reaction. His hand touches her face and caresses her cheek. He looks at her so intensely, So Yong feels hot and weak at the same time. 

His mouth presses down on hers again, but this time, there is nothing tentative about it. This kiss is confident, insistent, and urgent. Still holding her face with one hand, his other at the small of her back, Cheoljong draws her closer than ever. His lips taste hers, angling first one way and then another, as though he wants to kiss her in every possible direction.

His tongue traces the seam of her lips, coaxing her to let him inside her mouth. She does and she shudders with the desire that coursed through her. Her hands grip his shoulders, fingers curling around the soft material of his clothes, reveling in the heat of his body beneath his clothes. So Yong wonders what is under the exquisite fabric. 

He presses her against the wall, where the light of the moon doesn’t reach them, caging her in. “My queen” he says softly against her lips, and then he’s kissing her again. And again, alternating between soft and chaste, and hot and desperate kisses. His hands roam her body: her neck, her face, her back, then finally settling on her waist. 

Suddenly unsure what to do with her own arms, she wraps them around his middle, her fingers clutching the fabric of his clothes, urging Cheoljong even closer, and giving herself completely to the sweet sensuality of the kiss.

The sensation of the cold wall behind her and his warm solid body pressed against hers makes every nerve ending in So Yong's body catch fire.  A tiny whimper escapes from her lips. When Cheoljong responds with a half groan, half sigh sound, So Yong loses all sense of time and space. 

The sudden sound of shuffling followed by footsteps makes both of them jump. She can hear coming closer. The sound of footsteps getting loud… almost louder than the wild pounding of her heart.

Cheoljong is suddenly alert; he pushes Soyong further into the shadows, covering her body with his. When he hears the servants retreat, they both sigh in relief. He knows they will be back so he grabs So Yong by the wrist, and together, they head back toward the house. 

When they make it back inside, dawn is breaking and the once dark skies now have a bluish tint. A rooster crows in the distance. So Yong thought Cheoljong would drop her wrist the moment they are inside, but he holds on to her. 

Cheoljong isn't ready to let go; he isn't sure he ever wants to. They stand face-to-face in the same hallway. He has a question in his eyes, but he doesn't know how to ask. He can see both 'yes' and 'no’ warring in So Yong's eyes. And then he watches how 'no' eventually wins. He drops her wrists gently and opens the sliding doors for her. 

Maybe it's a good thing. They have a long way to go. He has a lot of things to prove. 

"You can stay but…" she finds herself saying, her voice, soft and tentative. She lets her sentence trail off, unsure how to put it into words. 

She doesn’t have to say it. He understands. "I know,” he says. 

They did not nothing but sleep that night, but Cheoljong is happy; grateful for the scraps of affection he gets from his wife. He knows, it is more than he deserves. 

It is in that state, between consciousness and oblivion when So Yong's words echo in his mind.  But Cheoljong is too spent to dwell on it. He drifts to sleep a few heartbeats later, the queen’s words ringing in his mind, and playing through his dreams. 

It’s just a well. It cannot hurt you anymore . 

Chapter Text

So Yong wakes up;  flashes of an unusually happy feeling bring a smile to her face.  Her hand brushes something warm, and her eyes pop open. Cheoljong’s arm is draped carelessly around her torso; his face turned towards her. Asleep, he looks peaceful, youthful; the lines that usually crease his brows are gone. She allows herself to stare openly at her husband’s handsome face for a few heartbeats. 

She remembers how he kissed her the previous night and her face turns crimson. She had not expected the way her body reacted to it and she certainly had not planned to respond so eagerly either. Embarrassed and completely unprepared to face him, she decides to get up before he does.

Taking care not to disturb him, she tries to sit up slowly, but his arms tighten almost imperceptibly. “My queen,” he says, his voice still groggy from sleep.

She freezes, then rolls away from him, towards the edge of the bedding. She doesn’t go very far, it was a small bedding, meant only for a single person. 

“Your Majesty! Your Highness!” She hears her father on the other side of the door so she sits up right away. So did Cheoljong, but he is much more relaxed than she is. 

“Just  a moment!” he says, stretching for a second, then he motions for her to come closer, and occupy the space right next to him. Not wanting to argue so early in the morning, she moves to sit right next to him. Once settled, Cheoljong drops his hand on her lower arm. The possessive gesture catches So Yong off guard, but she does not get the chance to say anything. He calls out “Please come in,' in the next instant.

Kim Mun Geun enters the room looking pleased and apologetic at the same time. “Had I known you would spend the night here, Your Majesty, I would have asked the servants to prepare a bigger bedding. My apologies.”

So Yong isn’t paying attention. She remembers that night from a long time ago when she begged her father not to seal the well. 

“There is no need to apologize,” she hears Cheoljong say. “Because of your efforts, the queen is more relaxed here. It is good for her. The chances of conception are higher if she is not under stress.” 

So Yong would smack Cheoljong if her thoughts aren’t so dark. Why did you marry me off to the person you conspired to kill, father? 

“Is there anything in particular you wish to do today, Your Majesty?” So Yong’s father asks. 

“You don’t have to worry, but please prepare a light breakfast for me and the queen. I will let you know when we think of something.”

So Yong isn’t listening; her mind is in the well with the boy she tried to save; her heart, with the man she’s trying to free. 

---

At breakfast, Cheoljong notices that So Yong is unusually quiet. Nothing about her escapes his attention these days. He’s beginning to decode the little things about her: the way her brows furrow when she’s lost in thought, the way she fiddles with her skirt  when she’s anxious, the way she wiggles her eyebrows when she’s teasing, the way she rolls her eyes when she’s annoyed, and most importantly; the way she hides behind the icy barrier when he offends her…  much like what she’s doing at that moment, but try as he might, he can’t, for the life him, figure out what he did to offend her so.  

So Yong eyes the small feast on the low table that separates them and wrinkles her nose, displeased with the extravagance. She stays quiet and they start eating in awkward silence. A twinge of guilt from that night years ago knifes through her heart.

“My Queen,” Cheoljong says finally, unable to take the deafening silence any longer. “Is something wrong?” He stops to eat for a moment to look at her. 

So Yong, who has been avoiding his eyes since she woke up in the morning, finally meets his. “No, Your Majesty.. We turned in so late, I didn’t get enough sleep.” 

Cheoljong doesn’t buy it, but he doesn’t push it. He steers the conversation to a safe topic. “I will check the area, and meet Prince Yeongpyeong today. You should take a nap, or - “

“Your Majesty…” 

So Yong’s tone makes Cheoljong suddenly nervous. She has that detached look in her eyes again. He thought they are past that, but the expression on her face tells him otherwise. 

“About last night…” she swallows. “We should not do anything like that again.”  

The sting of So Yong’s words bothers Cheoljong more than he anticipated. “My queen -” 

He wants to know what happened between last night and this morning. They were doing so well before he drifted to sleep, and yet somehow it feels like he woke up to an alternate universe where she is back behind an impenetrable fortress. 

“I will be leaving soon. Let’s not over-complicate this…” she gestures with her right hand, bringing it between them and moving it back and forth, “...alliance.”

“We are husband and wife.” Cheoljong says softly, the food has lost its taste. 

“No, we are circumstanced .” The hurt behind Cheoljong's brown eyes almost made it past So Yong’s icy barrier. She looks away.  “We are on the same road, but headed in different directions.” 

The familiar constriction in his chest tightens. Cheoljong may pretend to be an imbecile at court, but he is fairly intelligent, and if he is being honest, he is much more eloquent than he lets people believe, and yet, when it matters, when it truly matters, words evade him. 

Cheoljong takes a deep breath to ground himself.  “My queen, please, tell me. Did something happen today? What am I missing… Did I somehow offend you again?” 

So Yong sees the anguish in his eyes, and it breaks her heart. She is tempted to tell him it was her that night from a long time ago. That she made the horrible mistake of telling a servant. That she is just as guilty as the rest of her clan. That his panic attack from last night is because of that one grave mistake she made. That her heart is heavy with regret. But the words die in her tongue. 

She realizes that she’s been holding her breath so she gulps for air, trying to reel in the emotional storm that threatens to envelop her. 

She doesn’t answer his question. Instead, she says, “Look, can we just focus on the task at hand?” 

Sensing that So Yong isn’t ready to talk, Cheoljong clamps down on his frustration. “I’ll look around the property - “

“No,” she interrupts.  “You distract my father, while I go snooping in his room. He seems very taken with you.” Her tone becomes less emotional, more purposeful. “It won’t raise alarm bells if I get caught inside my father’s room… It is my childhood home.”

He nods. It is a sound plan. “Does your father have any particular interest?”

“Books. I think you have that in common.”

Cheoljong is surprised that she had him pegged correctly. Despite himself, he smiles. “I’m not a reader.” 

That breaks the ice. A ghost of a smile flits across her sad features. It is brief but Cheoljong catches it. 

“Yes, you are, Your Majesty. In fact, I’d say you’re well-read…” As if to prove her point, she adds, “Yesterday, I saw you eyeing the books before father served us tea. A disinterested person won’t give those books a second look.”

Cheoljong is impressed. “Books it is then.”

----

So Yong tells the servants that she’s unwell, then asks Hong Yeon to guard her room. “Don’t let anyone in, tell them I am unwell, and I don’t wish to see anyone,” she instructs.  Hong Yeon nods.

She then walks towards her father’s room and enters quietly. The room has changed dramatically, but what immediately catches her eye are the inset shelves jammed end-to-end, lined with her father’s impressive book collection. There are more books than she could remember.  

The old shelf that once housed the ledgers has been replaced. She opens the drawers of the shelf closest to her, but there is nothing useful. She goes on to check all the other drawers, but there is no sign of the ledgers. She peeks behind the huge screen, to find clues, to see if there are new installations, but there is nothing but a wall. 

Frustrated, she walks back to the bookshelf to inspect each book. She checks for a hidden compartment, but there is none. She skims through the book titles and notices the duplicates at the bottom row. She smiles. Her father really is a bookworm.. Does he really need two copies of the same book?  She doesn’t bother checking the duplicates. She pulls her favorite book from the top of the shelf and smiles at the dog-eared, worn-out piece of literature. 

Recognizing that she doesn’t have much time, she puts it back and scours the rest of the room. So Yong checks every nook and cranny of the room but finds nothing. Frustrated, she leaves her father’s room quietly and goes back to hers. 

She then asks Hong Yeon to call the servants and bring her water; that way, they could attest to her, never leaving her room. 

--------

So Yong later finds Cheoljong in the wide open balcony, sitting close to the edge.  Prince Yeongpyeong sits across from him. They speak in hushed tones and they stop talking the moment she comes into view. 

Yeongpyeong stands up to give her a polite but otherwise cold greeting.  “Your Highness.” 

She gives him an equally perfunctory nod. 

Yeongpyeong then turns to Cheoljong. “Royal Consort Eui’s house is nearby, so I will pay her a visit.”

“That is a great idea,” Cheoljong responds. “Please look after her as I am not around. I will see her when I'm back in the palace."  

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Yeongpyeong says, then bids Cheoljong and So Yong goodbye. 

The mention of the Royal Consort reminds So Yong of her tenuous position as queen. When she leaves, Cheoljong will marry Hwa Jin. She has made the choice to leave but the thought of Cheoljong marrying the woman who stole so much from her tears her up inside.

She sits in the same place that Yeongpyeing occupied earlier. In the light of the bright early afternoon, Cheoljong's rust-colored hanbok makes his eyes look like the forest in autumn - brown, with specks of gold. When she leaves, she will never get to see those eyes again.  

Cheoljong doesn’t miss the storm behind her eyes. "My queen, what’s wrong?” Cheoljong asks softly as she sits. “Please tell me.”

So Yong shakes her head. “It’s nothing,” she says, avoiding his gaze. “How was your talk with my father?”

“Is this about Hwa Jin?” he asks, ignoring her question. 

“Did you talk about his favorite books?” 

“Her maid is missing -”

“His favorite book is this treatise on politics. We used to talk about that book before I moved to the palace.”

"Prince Yeongyeong is here because - “

"Father cannot stop talking about his books once he starts."

Cheoljong quiets down to let her speak. He is frustrated. Their stilted conversation is giving him a headache. 

 So Yong is frustrated too, but more to herself. The well. The ledgers. The kiss. Hwa Jin. Her thoughts weigh heavily on her heart, and while she knows she’s acting so juvenile, she cannot seem to help it. Needing to ground herself, she stands up abruptly and turns her body towards the magnificent view. She gazes into the hills and focuses on the scenery. Somehow the view calms her frayed temper. 

Cheoljong follows her every movement with his eyes, but he thought it wise not to say anything further. His words only seem to aggravate her. He rises and narrows the gap between them.  He mirrors her stance, so they’re standing side by side, looking into the distance. They are both quiet. 

He changes the topic in an effort to calm her. “So what is your favorite view of the hills? Winter? Spring? Autumn - “

“Autumn,” she responds immediately. “Everything from there,” she points at something in the distance, then moves her arm sideways, pointing again at something, “to that ridge over there, is orange, yellow and brown. Sometimes, the sun is so bright in the afternoon, the yellow and brown leaves sparkle like gold.” She then gives him a side-glance. “I wish you could have seen it," she adds softly.

Cheoljong wants to tell her how much he’d love to take her back to her childhood home and see the hills in autumn, but she’s so skittish, he decides against it. “I think I would prefer the summertime view,” he says with levity, hoping she wouldn’t miss the teasing note in his voice. 

She takes the bait, her face contorting in disgust. “The summertime view is dreary! It’s not the sea, Your Majesty!” 

“Have you ever seen the sea?” he asks, genuinely curious. He remembers how he squandered his youth in Ganghwa Island: frolicking in the ocean. 

She shakes her head. 

“Poor you.” he teases.  He gently bumps her right shoulder with his left.  “I suppose swimming in the ocean isn’t one of those nifty little things you learned from your clan.”

That earned him a smile, and just like that, the cloud hanging over him lifts. His world is bright and sunny once more. He tells himself he’d take her to the sea one day… a mental image of the two of them swimming in the ocean, not as king and queen, but as Yi Won Beom and Kim So Yong flashes across his mind unbidden. He holds on to the image a little longer.

“So… how was your talk with my father?” she asks. The question is serious, but at least the conversation is no longer emotionally charged. 

“I felt like a boy being lectured by my tutors.” 

That got him a light chuckle; the sound, a music to his ear.

“Apparently your father has an extensive collection of books. He’s read most of them too.” He looks around, to check if anyone is close enough to hear what  he’s just about to ask. Satisfied, he gives her a sideways glance. “Did you manage to find anything in your father’s room?”

So Yong frowns. 

“Are you sure you checked everything?” 

“Yes. I combed through every corner of that room. There are no hidden compartments, or doors, anywhere.” 

“Did you check the floor?”

No. “Floor?!” 

Cheoljong nods. “It’s possible.” He clasps his hands behind his back. “We should check again tonight.”

“You mean, while father is in the room, sleeping?! Have you lost your mind?” 

“We’ll just have to make sure he sleeps soundly…” Cheoljong gives So Yong a meaningful look. 

“Are you seriously suggesting to drug my father, in front of the servants, and with Byeong In around?" So Yong asks incredulously. "No. Absolutely not. It's too dangerous.” 

“You said it yourself, your father will keep those ledgers close to him. It has to be in that room, and we don’t have a lot of time left…" 

"It could be too potent… it could kill him."

"I assure you it's safe. It’s not meant to kill anyone, it’s for sleeping.”

“You realize that if Byeong-in discovers us there, he’ll murder you in cold blood?”

Cheoljong gives a snort of derision. “He can try.”

So Yong rolls her eyes. “Do you have a thing for spectacles?”

“Spectacles?” he repeats, failing to grasp the meaning of her words.

“You drugged me in front of the servants in broad daylight. And now you want to slip something in... his tea?”

“It’s called ‘hiding in plain sight.’If something happened to you in your bedchambers, they’d easily assume it’s me.”

“It is you.” she retorts, giving him a scathing side eye. His expression turns grim. She doesn’t intend the statement to be so accusatory. She only meant to prove a point, so she immediately adds, “but that is neither here nor there.”

She then repeats his words, but more to herself. “Hiding in plain sight…”

“It means - “

“I know what it means!” she hisses, giving him the evil eye.

Cheoljong at least has the decency to look contrite. Sometimes he forgets how astute his wife is. He steals a glance at her and smiles in amusement. When she’s not being so frosty with him, she wears her heart on her sleeve. She is deep in thought: her irises move from left to right, her brows are knitted, her lips are pursed. If he had to venture a guess, he’d say she just made a groundbreaking discovery. 

Cheoljong turns towards her, almost at the same time that she does the same, so they’re no longer side-by-side but face-to-face. 

“I know where they are!” she squeals happily, her face lighting up like a lamp on a dark winter night.

Relieved, happy, and in extreme awe of his clever wife, Cheoljong instinctively  wraps her in an embrace. At first she stiffens, but she eventually relaxes in his arms. She doesn’t return the embrace but Cheoljong doesn’t complain. He is just happy to have her there. A few heartbeats later, she squirms, trying to untangle herself from him. Cheoljong drops his arms and lets her go. 

She steps back almost immediately. She hides behind a cold and formal facade. “Your Majesty, I would thank you not to do that without my permission.”

Cheoljong is amused at how prickly she can be. He cannot help it, he beams at her.

So Yong narrows her eyes at him. “Please stop smiling!” 

He smiles even wider. 

Annoyed, she spins on her heel, and he hears her say, "Don't go wandering off."

She is just about to walk away when she remembers something, so she turns around to face him once more.  “Your Majesty, please stay on this side of the property. Don’t go venturing into that end…” she gestures towards the storage rooms, then walks away hurriedly. 

Cheoljong is baffled by her last statement. At first, he thought she doesn’t trust him enough to let him near the storage rooms…. until another thought occurs to him: the well is adjacent to the storage rooms. 

It’s just a well. It cannot hurt you anymore.

Chapter Text

Kim Mun Geun is in deep slumber when So Yong and Cheoljong enter his room. The room is dark, except for the light coming from the hallway.  So Yong begins to walk towards her father but Cheoljong pulls her back. He shakes his head as if to warn her. She stops, Cheoljong is right. She scans the room, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. She looks at Cheoljong and points in the direction of the books.

They padded across the room towards the bookshelves. Cheoljong is right behind her, extremely alert, checking for any sign of danger. He is more alert than he usually is. He is fearful for her. He turns her back on her to keep a tight watch on the door. After a while, he cranes his neck to check on her. He sees her crouched form in the shadows. She goes for the bottom row and inspects the books with her fingers.  Cheoljong then looks towards the hallway outside, listening, waiting, watching for any sign of danger. 

So Yong scans the books at the bottom of the shelf. It is difficult to see in the darkness but if her memory serves her right, the second, third, fourth and fifth books are duplicates. Hiding in plain sight. Clever. She takes the four books, and hands two to Cheoljong.  

When she's finished, Cheoljong grabs her tiny wrist. He cannot have her venturing on her own. They move towards the doors quietly. So Yong gives her father one last glance before leaving the room. 

Cheoljong does not let go of her wrist until they are safely ensconced in her room. He goes straight to the cushion and sits down.  He takes out the books and opens them right away. The false cover falls off. He does the same thing to the other book. He smiles triumphantly. 

While busy inspecting the books, So Yong slips one book into a small space between the wall and a shelf. It is her insurance.

So Yong then sits next to him. Wordlessly, she hands him another. He again removes the false cover and scans its contents.  They are in fact the ledgers he's after. 

His expression clouds over. 

"What is it?" So Yong asks. She thought he'd be rejoicing. Instead he looks troubled.

"This isn't everything," he says. "There has to be a few more."

So Yong remembers the book she hid behind the shelf. "Yes. I suspect the earlier ledgers are hidden somewhere else… but you have the more recent records. Isn't that enough?" 

He shakes his head. "Not if I want to crush them all in one fell swoop." 

So Yong is quiet. 

Cheoljong takes all three books and carefully tucks them away. He ties the dark bag carefully. 

So Yong thought he'd leave, and go to his own room, but he doesn't. Instead, he takes her arm and pulls her towards him. Surprised, she goes willingly. She leans into him as his arms envelop her in a soft embrace. "Thank you." he says quietly.

So Yong doesn't really know how to respond, so she keeps silent. He doesn't say anything else either. Revelling in the warmth of his embrace, she indulges her heart as the top of her head rests under his chin, in the nook between his neck and shoulder.  They stay that way a little while longer. 

----

"Your Majesty, if I may be so bold, please take care of my daughter." Kim Mun Guen tells Cheoljong. He is already seated in the palanquin, waiting for So Yong. They are on their way back to the palace. 

"I will make sure to pay more attention to her," Cheoljong promises him, and he means it. He then looks at So Yong. "We should go."

Kim Mun Geun takes his daughter’s hands in his, sadness filling his eyes. "You take care of yourself, So Yong-ah."

"Yes, father," she says. "Please take care of yourself too. Come visit me at the palace once in a while."

He nods and lets go of her hands. 

A little later, So Yong and Cheoljong are seated comfortably in the palanquin, both lost in their own thoughts. 

So Yong steals a glance at his profile, he looks deep in thought. Curiosity got the best of her. "What's with the long face, Your Majesty?"

"Just lost in thought," he says. He looks at her briefly, then stares straight ahead. He had a faraway look in his eyes. 

He doesn't offer more details so So Yong hazards a guess, "Your Majesty, we will find the other ledgers." 

That got Cheoljong’s full attention. He turns his head to look at her. There is a smile behind his eyes. "We?" 

She nods.  "Yes, we.” 

On the one hand Cheoljong is relieved to have her on his side, but on the other, he’s fearful she could get caught in the crossfire. She is treading on thin ice, more so than he is. Cheoljong worries about how  little regard she has for her own safety. 

"Do you want to hear what I think?” she asks with a coy smile.

“Tell me," he replies almost immediately.  So Yong’s ideas do not surprise Cheoljong anymore.   There are a few markers of intelligence: humor, creativity, curiosity…  and So Yong has it all in spades. He has been so wrong to dismiss her as a mindless marionette. His wife as it turns out is a bit of a maverick. 

“Do you know what happens to a herd of sheep, without a shepherd?”

Cheoljong is confused why she’s suddenly talking about sheep, but he humors her. “It will be difficult for the sheep to find pasture…they could die eventually.”

She gives him a wicked smile. “Exactly.”

Cheoljong gives her a questioning gaze. 

Her answering tone is loaded with vengeance. “What I’m saying, Your Majesty, is that you don’t have to crush all your enemies in one fell swoop. Just hit the shepherd, and the herd will be lost.” 

---

Lady Choi is so pleased to see So Yong back in the palace. She greets her with the biggest smile she can muster. "We are happy to have you back, Your Highness!"  

She follows So Yong inside her chamber, noting a few subtle changes in her. The queen seems more relaxed, and her face is free of the lines that seem to perpetually crease her face. "Your break did you some good." 

Everyone assumed she spent a few days at her father's house to relax, for the purpose of conception, but the reality could not be farther from the truth. So Yong agrees, nonetheless.  Her visit to her father’s home has lifted her mood, increased her energy, and she feels as if her mind is sharper. 

"You need to visit the Dowager Queen to let her know you’re back," Lady Choi says as soon as she sits on the plush cushion. So Yong understands the rules of propriety in the palace, but sometimes, sometimes she wishes things are different. For instance, she is in no mood to spar with the lunatic dowager queen. Any bad energy she got rid off the last couple of days will only be replaced by something new, the moment she faces her. The dowager queen brings with her a lot of bad juju.  

She sighs, but hides the revulsion. She cannot wait for the day her husband gets rid of the dowager queen. Notwithstanding the awful feeling of dread in the pit of the stomach, she heads towards the dowager queen’s private chamber. 

Minutes later, So Yong finds herself face to face with the older woman. She bows her head in greeting. Sunwon sits at the center of the room, behind an empty low table. Her immaculately kept face staring So Yong down. 

"You look better," she says in acknowledgement of her presence. 

"Thank you, Your Highness. I was able to find time to relax the last two days."

“The king seems to be taking a liking to your… charms.”  She cocks an eyebrow in her direction. 

So Yong is suddenly nervous that she might have discovered her trickery. She calms herself. It is unlikely that the dowager queen would find out about the alliance she made with the king, or the price she’s willing to pay for her freedom, and for his.  

“We’re just trying to conceive, Your Highness,” So Yong feels as if her mouth is full of sand. An image of the kiss they shared under the moonlight comes unbidden into her mind, and she feels the heat creep into her cheeks. 

The dowager queen notices her flushed cheeks, and she misconstrues it as embarrassment for the nights she spends with the king. “Hmmm.. I didn’t think he would be seduced so easily.”

She remembers the heat in Cheoljong’s eyes when she told him he could spend the night in her bedchamber… So Yong wonders if it was she who got seduced. She schools her expression and gives the dowager queen the smug smile she wants to see. “We all have our ways, Your Highness.” 

Pleased, she moves on to a new topic. "You need to start on that task I gave you."

"I will start looking for concubines now that I am back." And because she's aware of the dowager queen's annoyance of Hwa Jin, she adds, "A little competition will be good for the royal consort, Your Highness."

She gives So Yong a thoughtful look. "It's good to see you come to your senses." 

She stays for a few more minutes listening to the Dowager Queen's lecture on a few other things then leaves. On her way back to Daejojeon, she decides to take the longer route so she can pass by the beautiful lake. 

On her way there, a dog suddenly crosses her path, making her jump in surprise. Hong Yeon frantically tries to drive away the adorable animal. 

She motions for Hong Yeong to stop. “It’s ok; it seems harmless.”

She is just about to crouch to pet the dog when a young palace maid comes running towards her. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty” the child cries, her hands shaking, visibly afraid of her.

So Yong crouches, bending her knees, so she’s eye-to-eye with the little girl.  “What is your name?”

“Damhyang, Your Highness” she replies timidly, shaking. 

Her terror is warranted; So Yong has a record of punishing palace maids and servants just by sneezing in her presence. That was before, when she was looking for an out. She regrets it to this day, and she makes a mental note to make up for it.

“How old are you?” 

“I am eight years old, Your Highness….” 

“Is this your dog?”

She nods and she looks as if she’s bracing herself for the flogging that’s coming her way. So Yong feels bad for her.

“You must promise me to take care of your dog,” she tells the child, grinning. “You cannot have it running around like that.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” 

She wends her way to the lake, stopping here and there to admire wild flowers that adorn the path.  From the distance, she can see Cheoljong's crimson robe billowing in the wind. He stands by the edge of the lake seemingly lost in thought. She observes him from afar for a few minutes. He must have noticed her because he is suddenly looking in her direction. An idea comes to her mind and she decides to join him by the lakeside.

That night she jumped on the lake seems so long ago now, and she’s amazed at the relaxed, easy banter between her and Cheoljong these days. From afar, she can see him follow her every move and she smiles. The butterflies in her stomach flutter their wings.

Cheoljong regards So Yong as she walks towards him, she has always been so graceful, he thought. From afar he can see her face light up as she comes closer. 

"My Queen, what is with the smile?" He asks suspiciously, but he cannot help it. He smiles back. Her bright smile is infectious.

"I have a question to ask you," she says, her smile turns smug. The sun hitting her face gives her fair, unblemished skin a certain glow. 

"Alright." He says warily, bracing himself for whatever crazy plan she has this time. The last time she had a proposition, she asked to leave the palace. 

"I am tasked by the Dowager Queen to choose new concubines for you!" She says with glee, her eyes twinkling mischievously. 

Cheoljong doesn't say anything, waiting for her to finish, wondering if there is a curve ball somewhere. 

"They are your concubines, so I thought I'd run it past you. Make sure they are up to your standards! So tell me, what do you find attractive in a woman?" She wiggles her brows playfully at Cheoljong. 

"What do I find attractive..?" he repeats her question like a common idiot. He's still not comprehending his wife's question.

"So what are we looking for...Vixen? Virtuous? Vivacious?" So Yong chuckles and leans forward conspiratorially. "You're Majesty, surely there is something in a woman you immediately find attractive!" 

Cheoljong remembers the woman she met a long time ago, that one afternoon when he took shelter from the rain. He definitely found that woman attractive. In fact, she owns his dreams until today. Another face crosses his mind, one that is bathed in moonlight; it is the face of the woman who kissed him senseless in the shadows. 

With superior effort, he pushes the woman out of his thoughts and forces himself to focus on her question. An idea pops in his head. He instinctively moves closer and grabs both her hands. "How about you choose any woman of your liking, but.." he looks around to see if anyone is close enough to hear him, then leans towards So Yong to whisper in her ear. "I review their background."

So Yong is surprised. She's expecting a completely different answer from Cheoljong, but she doesn't push it. "Alright. I pick the prettiest ones for you, then you" she squeezes the hand holding hers "choose…" she steals a glance at the eunuch and lowers her voice. "...you choose three based on your criteria." 

She realizes that Cheoljong is still holding her hand; the unexpected touch reminds her of that kiss in the moonlight. She feels the heat rise to her face, so she pulls her hand back abruptly.

"Sorry" Cheoljong says, looking a little embarrassed himself.

"Your Majesty, I asked you not to touch me without my permission!" She says indignantly. 

Cheoljong responds with a broad smile. He is amused at how far the two of them have come. The last time they stood by the lake, he was filled with contempt. Maybe time can heal both our wounds, he thought. 

"Stop smiling!" 

Realizing his effect on her, Cheoljong smiles even wider. They really have come so far.

She rolls her eyes and leaves in a huff. 

----

Hwa Jin stands across the lake watching Cheoljong as he grabs the queen's hands. She feels the poisonous stab of jealousy in her heart. 

“Would you like to speak to the king?” she heard someone ask.

Hwa Jin does not respond. She clenches her fists in anger and walks away. She’s had enough. It is time for her to take matters into her own hands.

--

Cheoljong is reading a book on military strategy in his private chambers. It is his favorite time of the day - the hour before sleep, the only time he is left alone with his thoughts.  He is just about to turn in, when the eunuch announces the arrival of Director Hong. He hides the book hurriedly in case the eunuch enters the room with Hong. 

As soon as the door closes behind him, Hong hastily walks towards Cheoljong and lowers himself on one of the cushions. Cheoljong is surprised to see Hong at such a late hour, but he suspects it must be of grave importance. 

“What brings you here?”

“I have disturbing news, Your Majesty.” Hong thinks about the short message left by one of his sources - the perfect spy, a blind servant, a trained masseuse, pretending to be deft. She comes and goes without raising suspicion. 

“It’s about the queen.” 

Cheoljong is suddenly alert.

“We don’t know the full story, so there is no need to overreact right now.”

“Just tell me.”

Hong tells Cheoljong of So Yong’s visits to the dowager queen, and the information she shares. “But she doesn’t seem to share a lot.. She may have her own reasons, her own agenda. Let’s not jump to conclusions.”

Cheoljong doesn’t hear the rest of Hong’s words. 

----

In the next few days, So Yong busies herself with the concubine selection. She has every intention to find the prettiest women for Cheoljong. The thought of leaving makes her heart ache, but she reins it in. At the very least, she wants to leave a few outstanding concubines for Cheoljong. Of course, finding bright and beautiful women who can go toe-to-toe with Hwa Jin isn't the goal, but it sure is a wonderful incentive. A wicked smile spreads across her face.  She decides to meet every single one of the candidates so she can handpick the concubines herself. 

Once satisfied, she ranks the candidates and narrows down the list to ten.  She sets their dossiers aside and planned on meeting Cheoljong the following morning. She is busy deciding on who among the last ten are her top favourites when her father comes to visit her at Daejojeon. 

"Father!" She says in greeting, happy to see him again. Kim Mun Geun drops the bundles of silk he brought with him as a gift to his daughter. It's only been a few days but she missed him already. She gestures for him to sit. “It is good to see you. How is everything back home?”

"The house feels empty, now that you're back in the palace." Kim Mun Geun tells her daughter ruefully. He toys with one of the silk rolls he brought with him. "Have you been well, my daughter?"

"It has been busy lately, with the selection of new concubines."

Kim Mun Geun gives So Yong that encouraging look  fathers typically give their children, "My child, the king can have as many concubines as he wants, but don't forget, there is only one queen."

So Yong is surprised by her father's sudden solemn tone. She nods, then smiles awkwardly. "Yes, father. I know..."

"So Yong-ah…" there is tenderness in his voice. 

So Yong smiles, her father rarely ever calls her by her name these days. "Yes, father?"

"You have always been like your mother. Kind. Humble.  These are great qualities, but they can easily be misconstrued as weaknesses… You are the queen. Don't be afraid of the power you hold." He says gently. 

"Why are you lecturing me on these things, father?" So Yong asks kindly. She is confused by the sudden protective gesture. 

He shakes his head. "There is no particular reason…but seeing that there will be a few concubines, it will be good for you to remember that." He gives her a fatherly smile before broaching a new subject. "By the way, I came to tell you, they plan to appoint me as the Head of the Royal Guard…"

"Isn’t that the current position of Prince Yeongpyeong?" 

"Yes. Kim Jwa Geun thinks the king is up to something so he wants me to keep an eye on him… What do you think?"

There are too many things going on inside So Yong's mind. Kim Jwa Geun is either worried about the king’s recent activities, or he wants to clip his wings further. She doesn’t like either scenario. "Do you know why they want to keep an eye on him…?" she asks carefully. 

Her father seems to consider her question. "Kim Jwa Geun did not say, but I am a little too old for this. They should just choose Kim Chang-Hyuk's son. He is young and ambitious." 

An image of the Minister of War's son flashes across her mind. He remembers him as the sucker who hangs around Kim Byeong In. He is going to be a problem. “Father, I need you to take the post,”  she says with conviction. 

Kim Mun Geun leans forward. “Is there something you’re not telling me, So Yong-ah?”

She shakes her head and gives him what she thinks is a reassuring smile. "No, father, there is nothing to worry about, but I need you to trust me more than anyone else." So Yong reaches out to take her father's hands. I am doing everything in my power to keep you safe . “Also, I need you to do something for me."

So Yong's sudden grave tone makes Kim Mun Geun worry, the lines across his face become more pronounced. "What is it?"

So Yong tells her father about the need to lead a more austere lifestyle. "I know how much you value everything in those warehouses, but reputation is important. If people are to see me as a trustworthy queen, I need our family to be above water. This is important to me.” She implores him. 

He squeezes So Yong’s hands back. “It will not be easy, but I will try.” He sighs. “It might stop all these night raids.”

“Night raids?!” 

“Ah yes, the night after you left, there was another incident. Even with the increased security, they managed to break in.”

“What did they steal…?” 

Kim Mun Geun tells him what has been missing from the storage rooms. “By the way, did you perhaps take some of the books from my room?”

“No, I didn’t even go to your room,” the lie passes through So Yong’s lips smoothly. She is amazed by how easy it has become for her to lie these days. “Why?” He must have already noticed the missing ledgers.

Kim Mun Geun shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” 

“Is there anything missing from your room?”

“No, but I suspect the robbers went to my room. They left something by accident.” 

“What was it?” 

“It is a piece of clothing… I gave it to Kim Byeong In. He is investigating the incident.” 

So Yong is livid that Cheoljong would send his men back to her father’s house the night after they leave. Does he not trust her? So all those kind words are a ruse?  

“It is almost dark, So Yong. I need to go now. I still have some place to go.” 

“Where?” 

Kim Mun Geun stands up. “Your mother’s old house. With your grandparents gone, nobody lives there now, but that is her childhood home, so I drop by once in a while to make sure things aren’t falling apart.” 

“Please take care, father, and come visit anytime.” 

“You take care of yourself, So Yong-ah. The palace isn’t a safe place.” 

Before he leaves, So Yong tells him one more time, “Father, please take the position. It might be good for you.” 

As soon as her father leaves, So Yong lets her anger take over. She is furious that Cheoljong would send Yeongpyeong’s men to her childhood home, without even telling her. She doesn’t expect a warm welcome from his close circle of friends, but a heads up would be nice. Besides, she already gave him all the ledgers she can find… does he really not trust her? 

Unable to contain her anger, she opens the sliding doors and marches towards Huijeongjeon Hall. 

Chapter Text

Barging in is becoming a habit for So Yong, or to be more specific, barging in on the king. Before the lake incident, she would never even dream of dropping by unannounced, but she is too furious to even care. More importantly, the woman who followed every rule ended up at the bottom of a lake, so why live like her? Sometimes propriety is overrated.

The Head Eunuch gives her a polite greeting as soon as he sees her. They are starting to get used to her spontaneous visits. “The King is busy, Your Highness”

“Who's in there?”

Sensing his hesitation, So Yong glares at him. She is in no mood today. “Prince Yeongpyeong and the Royal Consort are inside,” he says.

If anything, that got her even more annoyed. 

She had the eunuch slide the doors open and she enters the king’s private chambers unannounced. The first thing she sees is Hwa Jin seated across Cheoljong, while Yeongpyeong is on his right. They jump in surprise the moment she enters the room.

"Leave us." 

Prince Yeongpyeong and the Royal Consort ignore her command. Neither of them move.

Yeongpyeong instead looks at Cheoljong, waiting for him to rebuke So Yong.

Hwa Jin glowers at her. "We are discussing something with his Majesty - "

So Yong doesn't let her finish. "I'm sure you have a lot to discuss with His Majesty." Her meaning is clear. So Yong then stares her down, goading her, daring her to respond in kind. Hwa Jin keeps quiet but her eyes are blazing.

Neither Yeongpyeong nor Hwa Jin move. The standoff rankles So Yong further. She's fed up with people undermining her.

"Did I stutter?" Changing tactics, she gives Cheoljong a withering stare, her anger simmering just under the surface. 

"Leave us." Cheoljong repeats for her. It doesn't have the same venom as hers, but it holds the same meaning.

"Your Majesty!" Hwa Jin looks at Cheoljong in utter shock, but the protest dies in her lips when she sees the hardened expression on Cheoljong's face.

Yeongpyeong looks at Cheoljong in abject horror, but doesn't say a thing. He glares at So Yong, then picks up his sheathed sword from the floor and walks out. Hwa Jin does the same. She stands up in anger, then storms out.

She vows to teach the the two a lesson before she leaves. 

When they are both gone, Cheoljong rises and walks towards her. He looks calm, but he regards her cautiously. So Yong clenches her fist to control the shaking.

"My queen," he says as soon as they're face to face. "Tell me what’s wrong." He looks at her with staid nonchalance.

"You went behind my back." she accused him, her eyes filled with spite.. And tears. She cannot believe she is about to lose it.

He doesn’t reply. He wanted to ask her about the information she’s been giving the dowager queen. When he sees the hurt behind her eyes, he looks away. 

"Why would you send Prince Yeongpyeong’s men to my father’s house?!" The hurt is replaced by rage. “Do you think I kept the location of the other ledgers from you?”

“No! That’s not it - “

“So you found them and decided to do it on your own?” She can't stop the venom in her words.

"I sent my men to rob the warehouse so they don't suspect you when your father discovers the ledgers are missing." He says tonelessly.

“What?”

“When your father finds out that the ledgers are missing, the first person he’d suspect is you. Or me. I didn’t want your clan to suspect you.. I was trying to protect you.“

So Yong looks at him in aghast, chastened by his response. "You could have told me."

“Why? So you could tell the dowager queen?" he replies, his tone cold, like shards of ice.

“What does that mean?” Now that So Yong’s anger has subsided, his cold countenance comes into focus.

“What stories have you been whispering in the Dowager Queen’s ear?” He asks, his eyes filled with contempt. Cheoljong desperately wants to hear her deny it, but as soon as his words are out, a stifling stillness fell upon the room.

So Yong bristles at his abrasive tone, but realization dawns on her. She speaks in a calm and measured tone, not wanting to add more fuel to the fire. “I don’t tell them any more than they already know or suspect… like the nights you spend at Director Hong’s residence.”

“What else?” his suspicious brown eyes rake up and down her.

“That you spend some nights at the Royal Consort’s chambers,” she replies plainly.

“Why do you care if I spend my nights there?” A hint of callous humor colors his tone.

So Yong flinches. The question feels like a slap and she meets his angry stare with one of her own. "What exactly are you accusing me of, Your Majesty? Let's hear you say it."

Frustration crosses his face. She watches as he wages a war against himself. 

So Yong rises and makes a move towards the door. Cheoljong does too; he moves just as quickly. He blocks her path. They glare at each other.

His brown livid eyes are unblinking, trying to rein in the vicious words that threaten to leave his lips.

So Yong, who is never good at confrontation, steels herself and stands her ground. She then remembers the conversation with her father about the Royal Guard. She barrels ahead, concealing her clenched fists underneath her dangui.

“There is something else you might want to know.” She takes a deep breath and clamps on her shaking hands, “It’s about the Royal Guards.”

“Do tell,” his words drip with condescension.

“Kim Jwa Geun is planning to have my father appointed as the Commander of the Royal Guard” she says in a rush. A spark of fury flashes across his face. He doesn’t say anything, but he looks away, the shadows highlighting the harsh angles of his face. His eyes dart around the room, avoiding hers.

“I told my father to accept it.” She adds tonelessly.

That’s when he drags his eyes back to her face, thinly-veiled anger crossing his features. “My brother currently holds that position,” he says, his voice low, his tone as sharp as his sword.

She purses her lips, trying to find the right words to tell him why she asked her father to take it, but she probably took too long. He started speaking again.

“So you come here throwing a fit about the raid on your father’s house, but you would so freely encourage your father to take Yeongpyeong’s post?” His rebuke carries a heavy contemptuous undertone.

So Yong recoils at his angry words, feeling the bile rise in her throat, but she raises her chin in quiet dignity. “If not my father, Kim Jwa Geun will find someone else. Better my father, who I… we can influence, than someone else.”

“That’s convenient.”

She clenches her fists tighter, her nails dig into her palms leaving marks. She closes her eyes for a second, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and overwrought. She unclenches her fists and lifts one hand to her face, pressing a palm to her forehead.

"You don't trust me." It isn't a question. It is a bitter realization spoken out loud. 

Cheoljong is silent, his eyes suddenly soft and uncertain.

“I suppose we are at an impasse.” With a harrowing clench of her heart, she says with finality, “When I look at you, I see beyond your failings. When you look at me, you see nothing but my frailties.” 

She continues. "But let me be clear. I will see this through the end, with or without you.”

Cheoljong doesn’t respond. His jaw is clenched and his eyes are on her, but they are unfocused. He is caught in the war between his heart and himself.

“Good night, Your Majesty.” With nothing more to say, she walks away, her head held high, her heart broken beyond repair.

Chapter Text

So Yong is on her way to the lake to meet Kim Hwan. She had summoned her cousin for an important meeting. There is something So Yong’s father said that she cannot stop thinking about - her mother’s childhood home.

She can smell the fresh water as soon as she sees the lake. The early afternoon sun is shimmering off the clear water. She spots Kim Hwan in his emerald hanbok, standing by the bridge that leads to the island at the center of the lake. She strides purposely towards her cousin, as quickly as her lessons in grace and propriety would allow her.

Kim Hwan turns around and stops to wait for her. “Your Highness!” he says as So Yong draws closer.

So Yong falls into stride with him, and together they walk towards the island. “How have you been, Kim Hwan?”

He responds as he always does, giving So Yong a rundown of his recent activities. He steals a glance at Hong Yeon who, along with Lady Choi, are following closely behind.

As soon as they get to the edge of the lake, So Yong asks everyone to give her and Kim Hwan some privacy. “Do you remember my mother’s old house?”

Kim Hwan gives her an odd look. He nods. “It’s been so long, but yes. It is not too far from here. I thought nobody lives there anymore.”

She gave Kim Hwan a nod of acknowledgement before gazing into the lake.

“Why do you ask about it, Your Highness?”

Instead of answering his question, she says. “I have a mission for you.”

“Mission?” he repeats.

“Yes, but Kim Hwan-ah, you must promise me one thing. You cannot tell anybody about this.”

“I promise!”

“I’m serious,” So Yong says grimly to drive her point. “People could seriously get hurt. You absolutely cannot tell a soul. Not even Byeong In.” She looks him straight in the eye. “Especially not Byeong In.”

“Alright!” he says, both intrigued and alarmed at So Yong’s grave tone. “I promise, Your Highness. Now tell me about this mission.”

So Yong shares her daring plan, and his eyes widen like saucers. “Your Highness! This is quite dangerous. What do you hope to achieve from it?”

“One day, I will tell you. But for now, you must trust me.”

“You have not changed, Your Highness. You are still full of mischief.”

“I am, aren’t I?” They both laugh. They chat some more, until Kim Hwan bids her farewell so he can prepare what they both need for the night.

On her way back to Daejojeon, she runs into Cheoljong and his whole entourage of eunuchs and guards. Director Hong and Prince Yeongpyeong are with him as well.

So Yong gives him a polite bow in greeting. “Your Majesty.”

“Were you just at the lake?” He asks. Cheoljong’s gut twists at the memory of their heated argument the previous night.

“Yes, Your Majesty. My cousin Kim Hwan came to visit.” she says in a deadpan voice. She gives him another polite nod and goes on her way. Finding himself in familiar frosty territory, Cheoljong can only stare at her retreating back as she walks away.

Cheoljong hears Hong whistle, then he mutters under his breath, “That was cold.”

---

In the evening, while perusing the ledgers at Director Hong’s place -

“I cannot believe she helped you get these!” Hong says. He is busy reviewing the ledger line by line.

Yeongpyeong is looking at another ledger. “This is good, Your Majesty. It may be enough to bring down the Minister of War, Kim Chang-Hyuk and Left State Councillor Kim Seok-Geun, but we need more than these.”

“Why do you think she gave you these, Your Majesty?” Hong looks at Cheoljong. “What’s in it for her? There has to be a compelling reason why she’s helping you…”

Sorrow and regret tug at Cheoljong’s heart, but he cannot bring himself to tell them about the queen’s plans of leaving everything behind. “She just wants to do something good.”

Yeongpyeong is not so easily convinced, but his tone no longer holds the same intense hostility. “These records look legit, but she could simply be baiting you, waiting for the right moment to strike. People like them do not turn their backs on their clan.”

Hong leans back in his seat then crosses his arms. “The bigger question is, what is her current arrangement with the Dowager Queen? She declined to spy on you before.. so why now?”

Cheoljong ponders Hong’s question. “Did she give them anything useful?”

Hong is thoughtful for a moment, “If she did, we won’t be here talking anymore.”

“Maybe she’s playing you and her clan. That is far more dangerous.” Yeongpyeong closes the ledger he’s reading, and picks up another.

“Maybe she’s keeping up appearances for her safety.” Cheoljong surprises himself by coming to her defense.

“Or.. maybe the queen really cares about you?” Hong chuckles… “The throne and the queen's affection: the missing colors of His Majesty’s rainbow.”

Both Yeongpyeong and Cheoljong are quiet. Hong presses on with his good-natured ribbing, “Although, it seems rather unlikely that the queen would genuinely care for you, or your cause.”

Cheoljong gives him the evil eye.

“You have been so cruel to her.. Why should she care for you?”

A sword to Cheoljong’s heart would have felt better than Hong’s words. He decides to break So Yong’s news to them. “They are planning to appoint Kim Mun Geun as the Commander of the Royal Guards.”

“This is all the queen’s doing!” Yeongpyeong snaps, aggrieved. “Your Majesty, she has more influence than you think.”

“How did you know this?” asks Hong, genuinely curious. None of his sources told him about Kim Mun Geun.

Cheoljong closes the ledger he’s holding and drops it on the table. “The queen told me.”

“She is cunning, Your Majesty!” Yeongpyeong insists, incensed. “We need to find a way to stop Kim Jwa Guen from appointing Kim Mun Geun as the Commander.”

“Your Majesty, did the Queen say anything else?” Hong looks at Cheoljong, expecting more information.

Cheoljong shakes his head. He didn’t exactly give her a chance to say much last night; he got furious, and she left.

Hong tilts his head in thought. “I still don’t get it, what does she have to gain from telling you?”

Instead of answering Hong’s question, Cheoljong says “Kim Jwa Geun must have discovered something recently.”

Both Yeongpyeong and Hong agree.

Cheoljong furrows his brows, racking his brain to find other options. “We need an alternative plan. We cannot wait forever for the ledgers to turn up. We can use the new concubines...build a new power bloc” 

“But that won’t come soon enough,” says Yeongpyeong.

“Or you can ask the queen to continue her search for the ledgers. She is still our best shot at finding them. And so far, all her actions are aligned with our cause...”

“It’s a dangerous gambit.” Yeongpyeong says, “and we cannot trust her completely. She’s still a Kim. That won’t change.”

This time Hong is a little miffed. He ignores Yeongpyeong and addresses Cheoljong directly. “But on the off chance that she’s genuinely helping you, Your Majesty. She is gambling with her life, with nothing to gain.”

Just hit the shepherd, and the herd will be lost. He remembers her words from the palanquin. He opens one of the ledgers and reviews Kim Chang-Hyuk’s list of sins. An explosive idea takes shape in his mind.

----

Hong’s words weigh on Cheoljong’s mind, all the way back to Huijeongjeon Hall. He planned on heading straight to bed but he is too restless. He paces the room instead. An image of the queen flinching at his sharp words keeps flashing across his mind.

You see nothing but my frailties.

Self-loathing washes over him. Is that really how she thinks he sees her? Before he realizes it, he finds himself walking briskly in the direction of Daejojeon Hall.

Cheoljong finds Lady Choi standing guard, blocking the doors to the queen's private chamber. “My apologies, Your Majesty. The queen’s orders are strict. She doesn't like to be disturbed by anyone tonight.”

“Why not?”

Lady Choi responds almost immediately. “She wasn’t feeling so well earlier, so she’s resting.”

“All the more reason that I should see her. Open the door.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Lady Choi opens the sliding doors. She follows him inside and closes the doors immediately.

Cheoljong marches inside but finds the bedding empty; he sees Hong Yeon at the corner of the chamber looking distressed. For a moment, Cheoljong is confused. But the confusion gives way to dread, then fear. “Where is the queen?”

Hong Yeon and Lady Choi exchange terrified glances, but neither speaks.

“Someone better tell me where she is or heads will roll.” He glowers at the women. It is late and it is dark, and his mind is drawing a hundred different scenarios of the queen getting lost, or hurt, or both. Sickening dread settles in his gut.

“Her Highness.. Didn’t.. Didn’t say.. “ Lady Choi stammers.

Did she run away?

Cheoljong looks at Hong Yeon who seems to be trembling in fear. “I.. I.. think she went to .. to.. her mother’s old house.”

“Where is that?”

Hong Yeon tells him that she doesn’t know exactly, but she provides an area that Cheoljong vaguely recognizes. “Tell nobody about this.” he says, and he is out the door in the next instant.

----

So Yong has only ever sneaked outside the palace walls once: the night when she jumped into the lake.

Shoulders tense, she listens carefully for the snapping of branches, and footfalls of anyone who might be following them. She and Kim Hwan fall into a stride, as they amble along the road in silence, a huge feat considering her cousin’s loquacious tendencies. To a curious onlooker, they look like two noblemen out for a walk, perhaps in search of female company at the nearby Oktajeong. But they have a far more serious purpose.

They barely made it out the gate earlier, if not for Kim Hwan, whose friendly demeanor proved useful for once. They slipped out as soon as the palace guards recognized him. She didn’t expect her rather clumsy cousin to be so smooth.

She shakes her arm uncomfortably; she may be as tall as Kim Hwan, but she feels as if she’s drowning in his hanbok. She has never dressed as a man before and the outfit, much to her chagrin, is extremely disconcerting. She finds the gat string tied to her chin uncomfortable, and the beads string keep hitting her face.

Several times she almost stopped to turn on her heel and walk towards the warmth and safety of Daejojeon, but without sacrifice, safety is an illusion. Her precarious situation urges her forward. She gazes back to the palace gate; lit by the watch fires, it looks imposing and radiant.

She gives Kim Hwan a sideways glance. She is grateful for her cousin’s company; he has always had a good heart, sometimes to a fault. He may not offer a lot of protection but having him around is better than not having anyone at all. Afterall, she needs a lookout for what she’s about to do and a way back to the palace.

She wonders if she should have asked Cheoljong instead; she feels safer in his company, but she’s uncertain where they stand. She thinks back to the argument the previous night and she’s astonished why they fought in the first place. She accused him of not trusting her enough, but in hindsight, isn’t that what she did too? Upon hearing her father’s story, her immediate assumption was Cheoljong went behind her back. She sighs audibly and gets an odd look from Kim Hwan.

“Kim Hwan-ah,” she says, her voice an aberration in the quiet night. She looks around to make sure nobody is following them. “Thank you.”

Kim Hwan gives her a warm smile, “I love going on missions.”

Despite herself, So Yong chuckles. Her cousin is such a character.

They pass by the marketplace, past storefronts and vendor carts. There are still a few people around, mostly rabble housers and shopkeepers packing their wares. Lanterns line the streets, giving the pathways a pale yellow glow.

She and Kim Hwan amble along the dark street leading to her mother’s childhood home. When the house comes into view, they look at each other in silent acknowledgement. It was dark, save for a few lanterns and the pale light of the crescent moon. She looks around furtively; there are hardly any one around anymore.

A tall figure turns the corner and walks purposely in the same direction. There is something about his gait that looks familiar. So Yong slows her pace and taps Kim Hwan's elbows to draw his attention. She cocks her head towards the tall man just a few steps ahead of them. Kim Hwan eyes him, and his brows knit. Something about him tickles his memory too.

So Yong and Kim Hwan fall back and observe the mysterious figure closely. At the next corner, So Yong pulls Kim Hwan in the shadows. They hide behind a wall and watch the strangely familiar yet mysterious figure. As if sensing company, he turns around abruptly, his keen, watchful eyes scan the street. The light of the lamp hits his face but the shadow of his gat keeps half of his face hidden.

So Yong and Kim Hwan step back in surprise. Even in the dark, they both recognize the face. They've known it since they were young. 'Byeong In!' Kim Hwan hisses, then they both freeze. She braves to take a peek, and notices Byeong In walking quietly towards them.

"Let's go" she says, pulling Kim Hwan, but So Yong has always been the faster runner. She doesn't realize until a few blocks down the road that Kim Hwan is no longer behind her. She had a split second to decide, trace back her steps, or run further away. She decides to turn around, careful to stay in the shadows. She retraces her steps a few times but finds no sign of Kim Hwan.

--

That she would venture into the night unaccompanied, purely on a gamble, a hunch, angers Cheoljong. He wonders why the queen would do something so reckless, alone, untrained, unarmed. He feels a flash of wild inexplicable fear. The night air is cool as he wends his way down the streets that Hong Yeon vaguely mentioned. He shivers.

It is dark, save for a few lanterns that seem to haphazardly line the almost-deserted streets. He keeps his hand on his sword ready to swing any time. He walks some more until he notices the house at the end of the street. He recognizes it. He and Yeongpyeong recently ran surveillance on that house because of Hong’s dodgy information. No. It can’t be. It occurs to Cheoljong that the queen may either be working with Byeong In, or she has unknowingly walked into a trap; neither possibility gives him peace.

He notices a young nobleman walk by at least twice, his gait familiar. He seems to be looking for something.. Or maybe someone, frantically. He observes him closely, and as the light from the lantern hits his face, Cheoljong recognizes him as the dimwit who plays tujeon with Director Hong. He is just about to ignore him altogether until another memory surfaces.

Yes, Your Majesty. My cousin Kim Hwan came to visit.

He hides further in the shadows and unsheathes his knife. When Kim Hwan passes by a third time, he yanks him towards the shadows and holds a knife to his throat. “Where is she?”

He feels Kim Hwan shudder in fear, “Who... ?” he says. Cheoljong can admire him for not giving her up so easily.

“You tell me where the queen is, or I'll slit your throat.”

“I.. I.. don’t know,” he says. “I...I.. lost her near the market earlier… I came here to look for her” he says, rattling the words so fast, Cheoljong could hardly make out the words. He shoves him further into the shadows and sprints towards the market.

---

So Yong strides up the center of the street, still wearing her nobleman disguise, which meant that people generally paid her no mind. But finding herself in an unfamiliar environment, alone, at night made her afraid. She looks around frantically trying to search for Kim Hwan. She notices a couple of rabble-rousers trailing her. She worries that they may have seen through her disguise. She fears that the lanterns shine on the lines of her face, her lips, and the column of her neck. Maybe they even notice the graceful way she carries herself when she walks.

She keeps walking hoping to see a sign, any sign of her cousin, but the farther she walks, the fewer people there are. In panic, she decides to go into the direction of the palace; it seems like a safer bet than walking aimlessly looking for Kim Hwan.

She does not immediately notice two men following her as she ventures further into the darkened streets leading to the palace. She takes shorter strides to pick up her pace, but just as she thought she lost them, the two men suddenly block her path. She regards them carefully, as fear overwhelms her. She racks her brain for a clever way to escape. She wonders if she can outrun them, and then she remembers the coins she carries with her. She takes them out and throws them to the ground. “If that is what you’re after, take all of it,” she says, willing her voice not to tremble. The two men burst into laughter.

They advance towards her as she takes a step back, her heart hammering in her chest. One moved so fast, she felt a hand close in on her neck before the movement registers in her brain. She stomps her foot down the man’s toes, but he grabs her arm and drags her closer to him.

“Stop struggling…” he says with a terrifying smile. He tries to pull her towards the shadows as the other man watches. She wrenches her hands away and slams the heel of her palm up his nose. She can feel the man’s blood spurt on her fingers.. The man grunts, temporarily freeing her. Adrenaline kicking in, she pushes past him, but he recovers almost immediately. He yanks her back violently and backhands her across the face, the blow knocks So Yong off her feet, and she hits the ground.

She tries to pull herself up, but the blow makes her woozy; unsteady. Her ears are ringing, her cheek is throbbing, and her mind is refusing to accept her dire situation. She hears someone unsheathe a sword. Someone swings it. And then the grind of metal on bone. A grunt. And then the sound of someone hitting the dirt. She raises her head, but her mind slips into a fog. Vaguely, she sees a sword gleam in the night, then silence.

Someone kneels on the ground next to her and lifts her to a sitting position. With deft hands, he unties the string of her gat. A bloody hand lifts to her throbbing cheek. She recoils in fear. “My queen,” she hears, his voice low, frantic, broken.

She lets herself be gathered into his arms, held gently against his raging heart. She trembles, and her teeth rattles. “It’s alright” he says, as if she’s crying. Then she feels the tears roll down her cheeks. ‘You’re alright’ he says again as he holds her tightly, close to his body, his heart pounding as heavily as hers.

“I got you…you’re safe” he says softly. She takes a gulp of air and opens her eyes for a brief second. She sees Cheoljong’s face; a look of intense worry and red-hot anger mar his features. She closes her eyes again and burrows deep into his chest as silent sobs rack her body.

Chapter Text

Cheoljong sits by So Yong’s bedside, staring at the bruise on her cheek. The skin under her right eye is swollen and it looks as if she won’t be able to open her eye for at least a day. He watches quietly as the royal physician applies some type of salve on her bruised cheek. She is yet to gain consciousness, but she flinches as soon as the physician touches her cheek. Cheoljong gives him a reprimanding look. 

“She is in shock, but she is okay, Your Majesty.” The royal physician says. “The swelling will take a few days to heal.” 

The physician closes the lid on the jar that contains the salve. “Facial bruises are painful, Your Majesty. We need to re-apply this if the throbbing becomes unbearable.”

Cheoljong nods in acknowledgement, but remains quiet. 

“If I may ask, Your Majesty, what happened to the queen?” asks Lady Choi.  A few worry lines cross her forehead.

 “She fell,” Cheoljong replies simply, offering no other details. The image of the queen lying on the dirt flashes through his mind. He watched in abject horror as her assailant struck her in the face, and her body crumpled to the ground. He has never felt so powerless. He regrets that he didn’t get to her in time to keep her from getting hurt altogether. He regrets putting her in a vulnerable position. He regrets that he got her involved in the first place.  

He would kill her attackers a thousand times, a thousand different ways, each more horrific than the last. But killing them does not absolve him of his sins. 

“Your Majesty, we will take care of the queen. You can rest.” Lady Choi interrupts his murderous thoughts.

Cheoljong shakes his head. “You should go. I will stay and watch over her.” 

When they leave, he stares at the swelling underneath her eyes again. In the low light of the lamp, her swollen eye and bruised cheek look even worse. She must have taken a beating, he thought. Hurt claws at his heart, and then fear squeezes his chest. He is too afraid to think of what might have happened if he didn’t get to her in time.  

Something in Cheoljong begins to unfurl, something he kept locked away for so long, an emotion he was once too cowardly to name.

---

When So Yong regains consciousness, she hears muffled voices, but she is far too overwrought to make sense of the conversation. She feels the warm fingers of someone applying a salve to her bruise, and she flinches. Vaguely, she hears a familiar voice, ordering everyone to leave her bedchamber. Unwilling and unprepared to face anyone, she lets the cold comfort of oblivion blanket her once more.

When she wakes again, there is a dull ache in her left cheek. It is no longer as painful, but the face of her assailants flash across her mind. When she trembles in terror, she feels a comforting hand in the area between her shoulders and collarbone.

'It's alright, you're safe," a voice says. It's low and comforting, broken and halting. Her tremors quiet down to a whimper

She hated his voice. It reminds her of how reckless it was for her to gamble with her life. But she seeks it, for as much as she hates it, his voice anchors her. It is the beacon of light in the darkness of her mind. 

He continues to stroke the area near her collarbone. Through the cobwebs of sleep, she can hear him vaguely. 'It's alright, you're safe…” 

She feels his warm palm on her uninjured cheek. “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says. She leans into his touch and sleeps once more.

Cheoljong stays by her bedside, watching over her patiently, doing everything he could to calm the desolate trembling that sometimes seizes her body.

When his back hurts from sitting, he stretches his body to relieve the strain. When sleep courts the edge of his consciousness, he gets up to pace the room.

He stays with her until morning. He doesn’t want her to wake up alone and afraid.

--

A few days later, Cheoljong finds So Yong in the library. She had everyone clear out, so she’s alone, save for Lady Choi and Hong Yeon. He suspects she didn’t like anyone to see her bruised face. It is healing, and the area surrounding her eye is no longer swollen. 

She’s browsing the shelves. She pulls a book from its row, a long slender finger rests on top of its spine. When she senses his presence, she angles her head, so he doesn’t see the bruise. Cheoljong is disconcerted that she would hide her face from him; even with her bruised cheek and swollen eye, she is the most beautiful woman in the world.

“I have the list of concubines you can choose from - attractive, intelligent, high-born. I figured I’d give you a list of ten, and you can select the three.”

 “Alright; I will review them.” He replies but his mind is elsewhere. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m alright.” She turns her attention back to the books, perusing the titles with her finger. “I will bring the list to you tonight - “

“My Queen, I did not come here to talk politics.” he says, interrupting her.

 Her finger on the books stills. It trembles slightly.

“What were you doing out that night?” His voice is soft, like a caress, his tone kind. He's looking at her like she'll break any minute.

So Yong bristles at Cheoljong’s sympathetic look; she's injured, not dying. The concern in his eyes is a bitter reminder of her frailties . Not wanting to argue, she decides to let it pass. She lifts one shoulder in a careless shrug. “When father came to tell me about Kim Jwa Geun’s plans to appoint him as Commander of the Royal Guard, he mentioned my mother’s childhood home. Nobody lives there now, so I figured, father must be keeping something there.”

She gives Cheoljong a meaningful look. “He likes to hide things in plain sight, as you know. But when Kim Hwan and I got there, we saw Byeong In, so we ran away. That’s when I lost him…"

“You should have told me... Or asked me to come with you.” His tone is a combination of worry and hurt. Worried that something could have happened to her, and hurt that she didn’t trust him enough to ask. “I’m sorry I got angry that night - “

“It doesn’t matter,” she intones drily.

“It matters to me.” 

So Yong huffs in thinly-veiled derision. “I didn’t ask for your help, not because I was angry, or hurt from our argument. Do you really think I’m that shallow?”

Cheoljong is silent; he just stands there watching her, wary, careful, afraid he’d say the wrong thing again.

She turns to face him, her eyes unfocused, like she’s somewhere else. “One day, I will be leaving, and I will be on my own. I thought maybe I should be able to do one simple thing without your help…. It is...it was a bad decision to put myself in a vulnerable position, I know that.” She then looks at Cheoljong straight in the eye, suddenly laser focused. “ But, Your Majesty, I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”

Cheoljong momentarily loses his train of thought. She has that effect on him, especially when she mentions her plans to leave. It seems to foreshadow what his life would be like without her, empty. He is quiet for a moment, trying to recall the purpose of the conversation. When he speaks again, his voice is gentle and entreating “You are not a soldier - “

She cuts him off short, “You’re the king, I am the queen. You’re not the only one who wants what’s best for Joseon. This is my fight too.”

"You have little experience in politics… save for the things that you have perhaps picked up from your father."

So Yong’s face clouds over in annoyance. "I would thank you, Your Majesty, not to underestimate me. Before me, you were nowhere near those ledgers." 

“Then we work together on strategy… you are a strategist, not a foot soldier.” 

So Yong does not respond, but she knows Cheoljong is right. She cannot fire an arrow, much less walk behind enemy lines. Besides, can she really go through the same ordeal again? 

"I just want to keep you safe,” he says, his eyes searching hers.

"We all want to be safe, but that's just not the world we live in."

----

So Yong waits until it is dark before she makes the short trek to Huijeongjeon. She holds the gray jang-ot carefully to cover her face, or at least her right cheek. It is not that she’s ashamed of her bruised face, she simply does not want to be questioned about it. 

It is a moonless night, so she relies heavily on the lamps that lit the path towards the king’s private chambers. The soft fabric of her overcoat flaps in the cool night air. 

She remembers the last time she was at Huijeongjeon; Cheoljong was so cross with her. She only meant to give him a heads up about her father’s potential appointment as the Commander of the Royal Guard. Her reasoning is simple, better the devil you know, than the one you don't.

She wonders why she and the king just can't seem to find that sweet spot of civility and mutual respect; the tension is always there, an animosity brewing just beneath the surface. From the very beginning, everything about her and the king has been one step forward, two steps back. The thought makes her sad. 

The servants open the sliding doors as soon as they see her; they don’t bother announcing her arrival anymore. They have gotten used to her spontaneous visits. She smiles thinking of the old her;  she would have been horrified at such impropriety. 

When she walks into Cheoljong’s private quarters, she finds him sitting on his plush cushion, reading a book. The yellow light of the lamps highlight the gold of his robe.

Cheoljong looks up from where he’s seated when So Yong enters the room, a small smile plays at his lips, his eyes warm. He puts down the book he is reading to watch her as she moves from across his bedchamber towards him. He follows her with his eyes, fascinated by her graceful, regal gait. 

“Your Majesty” she says in greeting when she’s close enough. 

His eyes roam her face as she lowers herself onto the cushion. His gaze hovers for a second or two on her cheek. His face clouds over but he only says, “I’m glad you came to see me."

So Yong does not respond right away. She is momentarily distracted by the book on the table. Her book . Her fingers itch to hold it, open it, ask why he kept it all these years… why he could not recognize her. Frustration threatens to pour from So Yong in a storm of angry words, but she curls her fingers into a fist under the table to rein in her emotions.

To distract herself, she pulls out the dossier she put together so Cheoljong can inspect them properly. “I need to finalize the concubine selection soon, so you must review them as soon as you can. What is it that you’re looking for anyway?” she asks. She lays the papers down on the table, in a deliberate effort to cover her book. 

He takes the papers and reads them one after another. He immediately discards five sheets and puts them back on the table, face down. So Yong takes the discarded sheets. There are two names from the Jo clan, and three from the Kim clan. Understanding dawns on her. He hands her one, then another. When he is left with three sheets, he lays out the papers back on the table, perusing them.

Curious, So Yong sidles up to Cheoljong to see the remaining names. She takes the space to his right, and peers into the papers he’s inspecting.

“What are you looking for?” she asks. She has read everything several times, but she wonders what he sees that she does not.

He pulls at the second sheet and gives it to So Yong. She notices that they are from three different clans.

“Good choice,” she says. “I think you’ll be happy to meet them soon” she gives him a tentative smile. “I spoke to all thirty of them, you know”

 “Thirty?" he repeats incredulously. "You must have spent a lot of time working on this.”

 “Of course. I want to make sure I choose the best ones.. But these three should be good.” She pulls up one dossier, “Vixen, you’ll like her” she says, wiggling her eyebrows in jest. She takes another then turns it towards Cheoljong so he sees the name.“ Vivacious. The other one is virtuous.”

 “Why is this so important to you?” he asks, baffled at the amount of energy she spent on the selection.

 She thinks for a moment. She smiles at him, but her eyes are circumspective and sad. “Because they will be here when I leave.”

Cheoljong’s face falls, “I wish you didn’t have to.” He doesn't realize he says out loud until he hears his own voice.

Silence. But not the unpleasant kind. Cheoljong’s gaze is focused on her, like he's committing her face to memory. She watched him watch her as butterflies in her belly begin fluttering their wings.

Afraid and unprepared to tread into a dangerous territory, she changes the subject. 

“We need to talk about my father…” She broaches the subject carefully. “You don’t want to hear it, but it’s important that you understand my reasoning for advising him to take it.” She braces herself for a harsh rebuke.

It doesn't come. “I’m listening,” he says, but it doesn’t really matter to him anymore. He’d believe her anyway. There are times when his heart is more discerning than his mind. 

“Kim Jwa Geun will appoint someone as the Commander of the Royal Guard… If not my father, someone else. This is the lesser evil. I have some influence on my father… “

Cheoljong understands but still…  “He is my brother,” he says, his eyes filled with hurt.

“I know,” she says softly, she looks down, filled with shame over her clan’s political machinations. “I will speak to my father… Maybe we can come to an arrangement.” 

That piqued Cheoljong’s interest. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know yet, but maybe we can make it appear as if he’s in-charge, but in reality, Prince Yeongpyeong is.” She looks at Cheoljong to check his reaction. When he doesn’t argue, she continues. “Your Majesty, you cannot always rely on friends. You need to learn to use your adversaries, too.” 

“Adversaries… like who?”

“For one, my father… me..” she lets her voice trail. She then realizes that they are at an impasse. The tension beneath the surface comes from the fact that no matter what she does, however she tries to help him, he will never see her as anything more than a member of the Kim clan.

Much to her surprise, he hears him say, “I do not think of you as an adversary. I think you’re…” he pauses, clearly uncertain what word to use. Friend? Ally? Confidante? You're my wife. “I think it’s brave what you’re doing... I don’t deserve the things you do for me.”

“I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for me. I’m doing it for Joseon,” She responds almost immediately, sounding a little defensive. 

If Cheoljong is hurt by her words, he makes no show of it. “Still.. thank you.”

So Yong shrugs suddenly feeling shy, so she steers the topic to something less awkward. “So Your Majesty, tell me. One day, when you claim your throne… what would you do?” she asks, genuinely curious.

So Yong keeps changing topics, it is giving Cheoljong a whiplash, but he decides to humor her anyway. He tells her about the plight of farmers, about his vision for agriculture. He tells her of a theft problem down south and the talk of rebellion up north. Then he tells her of his plans to get rid of the corrupt ministers. He tells her a few more. 

When he is finished, suddenly shy, he gives her an embarrassed look. “That was a lot.. I didn't mean to bore you with details.” 

She isn’t bored, she’s fascinated. “You will make a good king,” she tells him, her eyes alight with pride.

Cheoljong is not one to court compliments but he realizes just how much he craves her approval. His heart blossoms as he sees his wife’s proud smile. He decides to throw the question back. “If you aren’t leaving, and you have all the power of a queen, what would you do?”

Her eyes twinkle in mischief. “You mean, aside from scheming with you and going on epic adventures looking for ledgers?” 

“Those are the actions of a great queen…” Cheoljong chuckles, “but what else?” 

So Yong remembers the child named Damhyang from days ago. “For starters, I think children should be allowed to be children for a while longer. They need to be at least sixteen before they are employed.” She leans forwards as she names a few others she wished she could change. “But of course, none of it will come to fruition unless you support them,” she ends with a shrug.

“I will. You would make a good queen yourself.” He reaches out as if to touch her, but slowly draws his hand back.

So Yong’s pulse race, anticipating a touch that never comes. She averts her gaze before he sees her crimson cheeks. 

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask,” he says, going off on a tangent himself. He moves ever slightly to angle his body towards her.

“Please tell me.” So Yong’s palms are suddenly clammy. 

“That night…at your father’s house. You said something.”

“I said a lot of things,” she prevaricates, biting the inside of her cheek.

"What did you mean when you said, 'It’s just a well, it cannot hurt you anymore?'” 

“Oh that.” She searched her mind for an excuse. “It really is just a well though, it cannot hurt you."

“No, you said, ‘it cannot hurt you anymore.’" 

“Why would I say ‘anymore?’ Have you been afraid of the well before?” She meets Cheoljong’s eye dead on, trying to look surprised, curious, inquisitive, as if the well incident is unknown to her. Under her dangui, her fingers fidget, alternating between twisting her ring and tracing the gold patterns of her chima.

Cheoljong isn’t easily convinced. She appears relaxed but the stiff line of her back says otherwise. She knows more than she lets on, he thought, but he decides to let it slide. For now. He doesn’t want to get into a fresh argument with her, but makes a mental note to do some digging himself. These days, when he dreams of the well, the face in his nightmares is no longer Hwa Jin’s but So Yong’s. He suspects that there is more to that story than Hwa Jin and So Yong let on, and he vows silently to get to the bottom of it. 

 “I must have heard wrong,” he backpedals. 

“Your Majesty, how did you find me that night?” she asks. “I was careful not to let anyone know about my plans with Kim Hwan.”

Cheoljong notes the sudden change in topic but thought it wise not to comment. She’s definitely hiding something about the well, he thought. “I went to your bedchamber.”

“Why?”

“To apologize. I didn’t handle our argument well – “

“Me either. I’m sorry too,” she murmurs, suddenly shy. “And thank you for…” she remembers her attacker's chokehold on her, and she shudders.

He eases closer,  looking at her with so much intensity, So Yong’s heart does tiny somersaults in her chest. “My Queen, can you promise me something?”

“What is it?”

“Can you promise me not to slip away like that on your own again…?”

“I wasn’t on my own.”

“That’s not what I meant. It doesn’t matter when or how; tell me, and I will be there for you.”

So Yong does not reply right away. 

“Promise me.” He says so intensely, urgently, his eyes bore into hers. “That’s a king's command,” he adds, his voice gruff.

“I promise.” She murmurs. 

In the next moment, So Yong lets out a yawn as her eyelids start to droop; the temptation of sleep begins to lure her in. “I should go…” she mumbles but makes no move. Instead, she rests her arms on the table and cradles her head. The walk back to Daejojeon feels like a daunting task. 

“You can sleep here tonight…” Cheoljong offers before he can stop himself.

 From her slouched position, she peers through her lashes to give Cheoljong a questioning look.  

“I will try to behave,” he says, but the mischief in his smile and the heat in his eyes say otherwise. “I will behave,” he corrects himself, but there remains an impish twinkle in his eyes.

“Your Majesty, you really are insufferable.” The butterflies in her stomach flutter their wings eagerly. Emboldened, she says, “I have a secret.”

“Tell me.”

“Your offer is tempting.”

He inches even closer, his hand lifts to her face slumped on the table, his thumb caresses her bruised cheek. “I have a secret too.”

So Yong cocks an eyebrow in question, willing him to continue. He drops his hand, but the intensity of his look doesn't waver.

She sits up straight again, looking at him expectantly, trying to ignore the adamant flutters in her belly.

“I kissed you once.”

So Yong's face turns scarlet at the memory of the kiss, but she chuckles at the absurdity of his statement. "That's not a secret."

His answering gaze is all liquid fire; it makes her toes curl. He pushes the low table away and leans forward. He lifts a hand to touch her lips, gently, reverently. Her breath stutters in her chest, and her heart seems to contract.

"The secret is I really want to kiss you again," he says before his mouth descends on hers, his hand curling behind the nape of her neck to pull her toward him. His lips are warm and gentle. The kiss is soft, unhurried, undemanding, making her feel cherished, treasured, adored. It is in stark contrast to the intense kiss they shared under the moonlight.

She is taken aback at first; her eyes go wide in shock, but her body responds before her mind registers it. Her eyes flutter close as he continues to press feathery kisses to her mouth. A promise . He nibbles at her lower lip. Gently, he traces the pattern of her lips with his. A plea.

He draws back a little to look at her; there is a light sheen to his eyes. He lifts a hand to frame her face, then lands a gentle kiss on her bruised cheek.. "When you hurt… "His voice breaks as his eyes search hers. "...I hurt more."

Without thinking, So Yong launches herself into him, pressing her body intimately against his. She winds her arms around his neck, drawing him closer, her mouth seeking his. An answer. The kiss immediately goes from soft to sensual as So Yong parts her lips, and his tongue slips in, flicking over hers. 

Cheoljong adjusts the angle of his head so he can kiss her more thoroughly, with the full weight of her head cradled in his hand. So Yong responds in equal fervor as her hands grip his shoulders. She lets her hands roam his neck, his shoulders, his chest, revelling in Cheoljong’s warm solid presence.

To So Yong’s surprise he breaks the kiss, and she whimpers at the sudden loss of contact. He cradles her face with his hands, then dips his forehead to meet hers, his lips a whisper of a breath away from hers. “You’re not well,” he says with some difficulty, as his chest rises and falls rapidly, his breathing as uneven as hers. He drops a kiss on her temple as he wraps her arms around her waist, stroking her back, marvelling at the way she fits perfectly in his embrace. 

So Yong feels the warmth of his hand as he smooths it down her back. She moves closer, fitting her body to his. “Hmmm” she says, sighing contentedly. Indulging her heart just a little more, she rests her uninjured cheek on his chest, as Cheoljong rocks her gently to sleep.

Later, she feels Cheoljong scoop her up into his arms and carry her over to the beddings. He lays her down gently, and then draws the covers higher over her shoulders. She opens her eyes briefly, appreciating the soft plush feel of his beddings, but the daze of sleep makes it difficult for her to focus. "Go back to sleep," he murmurs, a barely-there smile tugs at his lips. When her eyes drift shut, she feels the soft caress of his finger on her cheek. She sighs.

Chapter Text

The day is no different from other days. Cheoljong is in the middle of another tedious meeting with his ministers, and like clockwork, they start trading accusations and hurling thinly-veiled threats as soon as the meeting starts. He resumes his imbecilic façade as they bicker. One of the few joys of pretending to be a dimwit is that he’s not expected to intervene when they behave like rabid dogs.

Hiding behind bored, uncomprehending eyes, Cheoljong observes his ministers, running a mental inventory of their political allegiances. On his left is Kim Jwa Geun, surrounded by a slate of slobbering buffoons. He is considered to be the real power behind the throne. Cheoljong is tempted to use the ledgers as soon as possible, but that will only cripple the Minister of War, Kim Chang-Hyuk, and the Left State Councilor, Kim Seok-Geun. It will hardly make an impact. Any premature move on his part will only make Kim Jwa Geun intensify his stranglehold on him. That is if he doesn’t kill him, or the people he cares about first.

Hit the shepherd and the herd will be lost. His best chance is to cut their head off – Kim Jwa Geun. That should lead to a leadership vacuum, and send most of them scurrying around like ants. It would then be a lot easier to snuff them out completely. He will deal with the Grand Dowager queen thereafter. 

Cheoljong shifts on his throne to observe his ministers on the other side of the aisle, the Jo clan; equally vile, but not as influential as his in-laws . Right State Councillor Jo Man Hong appears to be the leader, but he knows that real power behind the Jo clan is the Dowager Queen Jo herself. She does not have a lot of political clout, but she remains a menace. He cannot get rid of them in one fell swoop, but he can weaken their political influence further.

He remembers the piece of evidence his brother left on purpose at Kim Mun Geun’s house. The trail of evidence should lead Byeong In straight to the Jo clan. He does not need to sow distrust between the clans, there is enough friction already. All it takes is a little nudge in the right direction. 

He steals a look at Kim Byeong In; he is a huge thorn in his side, but Cheoljong hopes the young astute adoptive son of Kim Jwa Geun would take care of the Jo clan for him. Thanks to one glaring vulnerability Cheoljong recognized: his devotion to the queen. Once he suspects the Jo clan to be behind the robberies, and more importantly, the scar on the queen’s neck, the Jo clan is no more. 

He is so deep in thought, he almost misses it when Kim Jwa Geun calls his attention.

“Your Majesty,” Kim Jwa Geun drones on, his expression betraying nothing. “The Royal Guard Commander looks after your safety. I would like to recommend Kim Mun Geun to take over that position.” There is an intimidating edge to his voice, but his face could not be more blasé if he tried. 

Cheoljong is expecting the motion, but he is irked just the same. Schooling his expression, he responds to Kim Jwa Geun tonelessly. “My brother currently occupies this position.” 

From the corner of his eye, he can see Jo Man Hong - his face a picture of dismay and incredulity. It isn’t out of concern for him or his brother, but a political loss. One position gained by the Kim clan, is one  position lost by the Jo clan.

“Your Majesty, this is a request made by the queen, and the Grand Dowager Queen supports it. They only ever want to ensure your safety.” Kim Jwa Geun's forceful monotone cuts across the hall.

He knows full well that the Queen never asked for such a thing, but he keeps the knowledge to himself. He stays behind the asinine facade. “This is an important appointment. I should at least give it some thought,” he reasons out meekly.

The dowager queen gives him a tiny gesture as Kim Jwa Geun stares him down. He grips the armrest so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

“We request this appointment to be made officially as soon as possible.” Kim Jwa Geun’s tone sounds more like an order rather than a request. 

“The queen must be really concerned about my well being.” He says, smiling like the fool they expect him to be. “But if it is my queen’s request, then so be it.” He lets it go because he needs to pick his battles. For now, he must focus on the big picture. 

“Then we take it as an approval,” Kim Jwa Geun replies.

Cheoljong gets the window he is waiting for. “I’m glad you mentioned the queen. I would like to host a banquet for her. It’s been a while since the lake incident; we should celebrate her healthy return to us.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the dowager queen’s shocked expression. If he is being honest, he seems to have caught everyone by surprise. Except Kim Jwa Geun; ever so prudent, his expression does not give much away. 

His proposal is met with significant resistance from her own clan. He expected it, but it doesn’t annoy him any less. Support comes from an unlikely source - Jo Man Hong. “I think we should hold this banquet, in honor of the queen’s full recovery.” 

Kim Chang-Hyuk challenges Jo Man Hong but Kim Jwa Geun intervenes. Much to his surprise, the elder Kim agrees. But Cheoljong is no fool. Kim Jwa Geun agreeing to the banquet only means one thing - he is up to something. 

----

Later that day, Cheoljong gets wind of the news that a corpse is found in a well within the palace walls. The palace is abuzz with the rumor that the corpse is Hwa Jin’s missing maid. Feeling guilty for not being there for her, he decides to pay her a visit, but just as he is about to leave for the royal villa, the eunuch announces her arrival.

“How are you holding up?” he asks as soon as he sees her, his hands reaching out to hold her. Her eyes are swollen and puffy, as if she’s been crying for a while. 

“I am better now that you’re here,” she says, looking bashfully into his eyes. 

He leads her towards the cushions and they both sit, face-to-face, separated only by the low table. 

“Prince Yeongpyeong tells me that the corpse has been in the well for a while so it is difficult to identify her. What makes you so certain that it’s your maid?” Cheoljong asks kindly. 

“Your Majesty, she is the only maid missing. How can it be anyone else? Besides….” she starts tearing up again. “She was drowned in the well.”

Cheoljong gives her a questioning look.

“You know how important the well is to me.” she says, wiping her tears. “This was a message to me.” 

Understanding dawns on Cheoljong. He reaches out to take her hands. “That means someone else knows about the well…” he says, but lets his voice trail off. 

She shakes her head, “I don’t know, Your Majesty. Nobody else knows about that well except you and me.”  She looks so overwrought that Cheoljong is tempted to come closer and comfort her, but something stops him.

It’s just a well. It cannot hurt you anymore. 

It is then that Hwa Jin notices the book on the table. She takes it and scans the pages quickly. It seems to have given her some comfort as her tear-stained face brightens a little. “Had I known you would treasure this book so much,  Your Majesty, I would have been more careful.”

It’s just a well. It cannot hurt you anymore.

The queen’s words keep playing in his mind. “That night when you saved me from the well, why did you have that book with you?”

Cheoljong eyes her, observing her reaction…. if Cheoljong’s questions annoy her, she doesn’t show it. “This was my favorite book as a child. I used to carry it with me all the time.”

“What did you like about it?”

“What is with the questions, Your Majesty?” She asks evasively, hurt crosses her delicate features. 

Cheoljong switches gear, “I know how important this book is to you.. I just wanted to know what you like about it, perhaps I will like it too.” 

“This book makes me feel closer to my mother,” she says, looking hurt. Cheoljong feels a little guilty that he’s interrogating her. 

It’s just a well. It cannot hurt you anymore.  

“Why were you out that night… and at Kim Mun Geun’s property?” He wonders why a young child from the Jo clan would go down a dark well located inside Kim Mun Geun’s property. 

“The queen and I used to be friends.” she responds immediately.

The information is news to Cheoljong. Neither woman mentioned this to him before. Something nags him…but he cannot seem to put a finger on it. One thing is certain to him: at least one of them is lying. He lets it go, but he is more resolute than ever to get to the bottom of the mystery surrounding the well.

Cheoljong eyes Hwa Jin surreptitiously. He does not believe in silly things like fate, but when he thinks about their story, he thought, maybe, just maybe, it is by fate’s design that they met. 

But then another thought crosses his mind: if it is fate that brought Hwa Jin back to his life, why does he feel as if he’s being ripped apart, every time the queen brings up her plans to leave? 

When she puts the book back down, Cheoljong asks her a question he asked the queen recently.  “If you were the queen, what would you do?”

She gives Cheoljong a quizzical look. “If I were queen, you say….?” her voice falters. “I only ever want to support you, Your Majesty. When you are with me, I hope you can forget about all the things you fear and the thoughts that weigh you down. I want to be that kind of person to you.”

Cheoljong smiles at her answer. “You are that person to me.” He presses her to continue. “Humor me, Hwa Jin-ah, is there anything else you would have wanted to do if you were the queen?”

She looks at him, puzzled. “I do not know what else you mean, Your Majesty. Perhaps, if you would be more specific?”

Cheoljong does not push the subject further. “It’s no matter,” he replies gently, but the smile on his face dims a little.  

He takes the conversation to another direction. “Do you still enjoy painting?” he asks to put her at ease, but his thoughts drift briefly to a charming woman whose ideas are well ahead of her time.

The consort’s beautiful smile is back and they talk a little more about inane things like painting, archery practice, and some silly anecdotes about Director Hong. Has it always been like this? Cheoljong wonders as they chat. 

Cheoljong has always been in the eye of the storm. With everything swirling around him,  it has been impossible to see things clearly. He wonders if the storm is beginning to settle, and things that were once blurry, are coming to focus. 

“By the way, Your Majesty, what were you and the queen discussing at the lake the other day?” 

“Oh you saw that?” he asks diffidently. He didn’t even realize Hwa Jin was there. 

She bristles quickly, “Am I not supposed to see it?” 

“That’s not what I meant.” Cheoljong replies calmly. “We were discussing the selection of new concubines.”

Hwa Jin laughs bitterly. “Surely, you said no?”

“I agreed. It gives the Kim clan a new power to contend with.” Cheoljong is baffled by her caustic tone. 

“This is the queen’s plan! How could you have agreed to it?!” She rises to her feet and starts pacing the room. Her eyes blaze and her nostrils flare, clearly agitated.

Cheoljong gets to his feet too. He has trouble understanding Hwa Jin’s reaction. She’s almost hysterical. He attempts to reason out, “The new concubines will help us - “ 

“How? How will the concubines help us?” she seethes, glowering at Cheoljong. 

His silence prompts her to continue. “Be honest with me!” she mutters, her outburst getting the best of her. Cheoljong sees the tears threatening to spill from her eyes again. “Do you have feelings for the queen?”

Cheoljong comes closer, and lifts his arms in an effort to reach out to her, but her question stops him dead in his tracks. He drops his head and lets his arms fall to his side. His heart knows the answer with absolute certainty, but as always he expects his mind to protest…. and yet at that moment, his mind goes quiet. It is as if his mind has finally caught up with his heart. 

When he lifts his head to look at Hwa Jin's tear-stained face, Cheoljong realizes that while he cares for her deeply, he cannot deny it any longer. Karmic retribution has found its way to his heart; he aches for the woman he once treated so callously.  

“Your Majesty, tell me! Have you fallen in love with the queen?” Hwa Jin whisper-shouts, a never-before-seen acrid expression sweeps across her face.

“Yes," he says with whispered conviction.

--

Cheoljong’s awful day isn’t over yet. As soon as he’s back at Seonjeongjeon, he finds himself arguing with Yeongpyeong. 

“Your Majesty, are you really letting the queen get away with this? She played you like a fiddle.” Because the eunuch and the servants are right outside, his tone is hushed.  “How can you not see it?” 

In exasperation, Cheoljong squeezes his eyes so tight he sees stars. He’s seated in his throne, while Yeongpyeong paces the room, clearly agitated. He bites back his own angry words, and instead replies calmly. “What more do you need? The queen is gambling with her life by supporting our cause.” 

“And yet she managed to convince you that Kim Mun Geun’s appointment is a good idea.”

“I never thought it’s a good idea,” he says flatly, rubbing his temples. His head is starting to throb - it has been a dreadful day.  

“Admit it. You have developed feelings for the queen.” he whisper-shouts, seething from anger. He balls his fists and the vein in his head is about to pop.

Cheoljong ignores his aggrieved assertion,and replies matter-of-factly.  “She gave us the ledgers. We have an alternative plan because of it.” And while Cheoljong is growing tired of his brother’s spiteful prejudice against the queen, he is still his brother, so he chooses to remain calm and takes the high road. 

“Your Majesty,” he says, his eyes blazing. “How can you do this to us? How can you risk everything we worked so hard for? How can you betray Hwa Jin?”

Cheoljong drops his face into his hands and sighs wearily.  His brother’s words wound him, but what more can he say? 

 “How can you trust someone like the queen?” His tone is more subdued, but it drips with malice just the same.

“I will let that slide Prince Yeongpyeong, because you saved my life that day at the lake.” They both jump at So Yong’s voice. “You really should be more careful with your words inside the palace.”

“My Queen…”

“Your Highness…”

Yeongpyeong and Cheoljong speak at the same time, completely dumbstruck. They were so deep in argument, neither of them seemed to have noticed her when she entered the room. 

So Yong holds her right hand up, in a “there is no need to explain” gesture. She moves so gracefully, so regally, that she seems to be gliding instead of walking across the room. Her chin tilted, her back straight, her shoulders pulled back slightly, her mouth pursed; years of aristocratic training in full effect. She slows down a little as she approaches Yeongpyeong, one brow lifting subtly. She deigns a look at the prince, wrinkling her nose ever so slightly, as if he's a bug she wants to crush with her dainty shoes.

Tired and defeated, Yeonpyeong gives both Cheoljong and So Yong a subtle bow then takes his leave. 

When the doors close behind him, Cheoljong rises and steps down from the dais, walking towards So Yong. After a long awful day, he is extremely relieved to see her. He grins as he comes closer, as though he didn’t just have a huge argument with his brother.  “You’re here,” he says softly.

“Is it that obvious, Your Majesty?” she replies sarcastically, but her eyes are smiling. 

He replies with the barest grin at the corner of his mouth. He leads her towards the table and they both sit, So Yong to his right. 

“I understand my father has been named Commander of the Royal Guards today,” she says softly as they sit.

He nods, but doesn’t say anything. 

So Yong sees the frustration in his eyes.  She hated seeing him so powerless. “We’ll figure something out.” 

“I know,” he replies quietly. 

“So… you’re hosting a banquet for me?” So Yong cocks an eyebrow. “You see I would be so floored by the gesture…” She pauses and gives him a teasing look, trying to coax a smile out of him. 

She is rewarded with one; it isn’t a full smile but his lips curl up and his eyes light up, reminding her of bright summer days. If she’s being honest, the smile warms her all over. Feeling the heat creep up her cheeks, she looks away briefly. 

His silence prompts So Yong to continue. “But I know you’re up to something… so really, tell me, what do you plan to do with this banquet?” She emphasizes the word “banquet” by rolling her eyes dramatically.

So Yong watches as the open expression on his face shutters. “My Queen… I need you to trust me on this,” he says evasively. “I cannot tell you any more than you already know.”

So we’re back to square one, So Yong thought bitterly, feeling the walls of doubt closing in around her. She’s getting a little tired of the endless push and pull between the two of them. Not wanting to argue, she pushes back her chair quietly and stands, ready to stride out of Seonjeongjeon. 

“Wait..” he says. Frustration seeps into his voice, bleeding from an old wound she feels responsible for. She stops, but looks ahead, clenching her fists.  

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you… I do. Just not today,” he says with gentle conviction. He angles his body so he’s facing her, So Yong towering over him. There was a tone of anguish in his voice that makes So Yong turn her head and look at him. When he looks up, his eyes are filled with an emotion so akin to remorse. 

His eyes drop to her hands, which he scoops up slowly, tentatively; his thumbs brush her knuckles.  When he tugs her towards him, she goes willingly until she’s standing right in front of him, facing him.  Cheoljong lets go of her hand but drops his head to press his brow against her belly. He proceeds to wrap his arms around her waist and whispers against her blue dangui. "Just for a moment," he whispers. "Just for a moment". 

Sighing, Soyong lifts her hands and rests them on his shoulders. His sangtugwan is nestled on her chest, and she can feel the warmth of his body as he leans his head against her abdomen. She rubs his shoulders gently to relieve his tension, relishing the feel of his strong defined shoulders that are concealed by the finest silk of his royal robe. The gold of the dragon emblem shimmers in the yellow light of the lamps. 

For a moment, Cheoljong closes his eyes, appreciating the soft comfort of having the queen so close to him. He can hear her soft, even breathing, underneath her clothes. He wills his mind to go blank, focusing only on the hand rubbing his shoulders. Her hand gently sweeps over the nape of his neck, massaging the stiff tendons with exquisite lightness. Her fingers are warm, and the gentle kneading is so pleasant, he feels his body relaxing into her touch.

After a moment, he straightens and grips her hips to pull her down onto his lap. So Yong goes willingly.  She sits sideways on his lap, so her left shoulder is against his chest. Cheoljong slides his arms around her, and rests his cheek against her neck, against her throbbing pulse. They sit quietly, comfortably, for a good long while, wrapped around each other.

After a while he pulls back so he can look at her face. So Yong's left arm hangs loosely around his neck. He looks at her with so much yearning that So Yong forgets why kissing him would be a bad idea. He lifts his left hand to caress the scar on her neck. 'I'm sorry' he whispers solemnly, his attention on the scar.

So Yong can only guess that he's apologizing for the scar. 'It was a long time ago,' she whispers back, meaning every word of it. 

Without preamble, he replaces his thumb with his lips, kissing the scar lightly. So Yong closes her eyes instinctively, the sensation setting all her nerve endings on fire. He sucks the skin around the scar gently then proceeds to pepper light, feathery kisses to the exposed areas of her neck. So Yong takes an extra breath as deft hands tug at her dangui to expose more skin. Her head falls back to give him better access. She feels his mouth move down to her throat, into the pulsing hollow at the base of her neck, as shivers race across her skin.

His head draws back and he looks up to her with a hungry gaze. His eyes go to her mouth back to her eyes studying her. So Yong licks her lips in anticipation. He catches the movement with his eyes and they darken dangerously. He curls a hand around the back of her neck and pulls her head down until her mouth meets his. He brushes her lips softly at first, nipping it the same way he had at her neck earlier, then he slants his mouth as he tugs on her lower lip, coaxing her to let him in. A small moan escapes So Yong as he deepens the kiss, his tongue invading her mouth. She can feel the unmistakable hardness underneath her lap, as hot, tingling sensations spread through her.

His possessive hold on her hips tighten, then he lifts her up without breaking the kiss, hoisting her on the table. She gasps but the sound is swallowed by Cheoljong’s kiss, his tongue tangling with hers. So Yong instinctively wraps her legs around his waist, her arms winding around his neck, her hands travelling from his neck to the thick, hard muscles of his shoulders. She grabs fistfuls of his robe, as his hands roam her body. One hand travels upward, grazing the swell of her breasts  then slides it down her back to her sweet little backside. 

So Yong’s hips tilt up and he groans in a way that makes her yearn for more. He lifts her slightly, the softest part of her rubbing against the hardest part of him. He makes a sound that is half moan, half growl. 

“Your Majesty, Director Hong is here!” 

They suddenly jump apart; So Yong almost toppling over the table. She quickly gets off the table and is shocked to see her goreum untied. When did that happen? she muses. She turns the other way to straighten her clothes, as Cheoljong walks towards the throne to sit, straightening his robe en walk, to ensure that a certain part of his anatomy remains concealed.

Hong is baffled to see Cheoljong's murderous expression as he walks towards him. He notices the queen in attendance as he comes closer.  She's standing close to the table, a placid expression on her face, while Cheoljong sits on his throne seething. He casts a sideways glance at the queen, who ordinarily looks so immaculate, has a few tendrils of hair escaping from her bun, and her dangui looks a little creased. The air is thick with tension and Hong wonders if they have been fighting again… then he smiles mischievously. It's probably the other thing, he thought. 

The queen gives him a polite nod, then takes her leave. Cheoljong follows her across the room with hungry eyes. It is definitely the other thing , Hong concludes wickedly.  

After the queen leaves, Cheoljong addresses him brusquely. "What is it?" 

Hong gives him a knowing smile. "My apologies for interrupting , Your Majesty." Cheoljong glares at him. “I can come back another time if you want to follow the queen to Daejojeon.” He makes a sweeping gesture with his arm for good measure.

Hong’s mischief never bothered Cheoljong before, in fact, he’s rather fond of his insolence. But as he stares at his friend’s unapologetic smile, he is reminded of how sharp his sword is. 

“This better be good,” he says curtly. 

Hong turns serious. “We’re ready.” 

Chapter Text

It has been a few days since Cheoljong has seen the queen, or to be more specific a couple of days since that intense dalliance at Seonjeongjeon, and if he’s being honest he’d say she’s purposely avoiding him. 

He misses her unannounced visits; they were, in retrospect, the highlight of his days. He has caught himself glancing at the doors longingly several times, so much so that the eunuch had asked him if he’s waiting for someone. Even the good-natured Director Hong has chided him for zoning out. 

If Prince Yeongpyeong had noticed his distracted state, he made no mention of it. There is still some tension between the two of them but he is relieved that his brother has not frozen him out completely. However, he cannot claim credit for his acquiescence; he suspects Yeongpyeong has relented after Hong’s informants confirm the contents of the ledgers to be legit. He assumes his brother’s despondent mood has more to do with Hwa Jin than anything else. 

Cheoljong wonders if the queen is punishing him for keeping a tight lid on his plans for the banquet. He is tempted to share everything but telling her makes her an accomplice. He cannot take the risk; keeping her in the dark is keeping her safe. She needs plausible deniability in case his plans go awry. 

A couple more days later, he and the Royal Chef are at the pavillon, putting together an elegant but not extravagant list of dishes to be served at the banquet. It was a warm bright afternoon and just as he’s about to finalize everything, the queen pops into the pavilion.

“My Queen!” Cheoljong greets her. Giddy from seeing her finally, he saunters quickly towards So Yong, a broad smile crossing his face. 

So Yong's smile is no less affectionate, but a little more subdued. “Your Majesty.” 

“I haven’t seen you the last  few days.. I thought - “

“My apologies, Your Majesty. I have been preoccupied with the investiture of the new concubines.” 

Cheoljong beams, relieved to know that the queen isn’t avoiding him. “Oh I see.” 

“They are new to the palace, so I thought it would be good to keep them company. At least until they get accustomed to their life here. It takes a lot of getting used to.” 

“It is generous of you to take care of them.”

At the corner of her eye, So Yong notices the Royal Chef tinkering with a few scrolls. She gestures at the royal chef and asks Cheoljong, “Are you preparing the menu for the banquet, Your Majesty?”

“Yes.” He walks back towards the royal chef then stops momentarily to check if So Yong is following him.

So Yong. She is curious about the banquet and is interested to see why it is so important to the king. “What's on the menu?” she asks, addressing the royal chef. 

The royal chef gives her a rundown of the dishes he and the king have discussed.  “You have been working hard,” she says to both the royal chef and Cheoljong, clearly impressed. 

Cheoljong grins; the queen’s approval is like warm fire in winter. 

“I will leave you to it then.” So Yong gives Cheoljong a brief bow, and turns towards the stairs. Cheoljong gets in step with her, as she strides away.

“My Queen…” he says, his voice trails off. So Yong slows down her pace but doesn’t stop. She looks sideways and gives Cheoljong a questioning look. 

Cheoljong gently cups her elbow to get her to stop walking completely. She does, and turns towards him. “My Queen….Will I see you tonight?” he asks softly, holding her gaze. 

She weighs the question for a moment, fascinated by the longing in Cheoljong’s eyes. She looks away before she starts doing something crazy… like standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his. “If I’m not too tired, Your Majesty,” she replies, suddenly shy. 

“I will wait for you… no matter how late,” he says softly, giving So Yong a heated look that makes her heart flutter.

Thrilled, So Yong gives Cheoljong one last look then walks away, perhaps a little unsteadily. She wills herself not to look back,  even as she feels his hungry eyes on her retreating form. 

----

Later that afternoon, So Yong gets another visit from her father. She smiles as soon as she sees him dressed as a Royal Guard.

“You look dashing, Father,” she says, amused. She is reminded that her father may be old, but he is not an old man. “How do you like being the Commander of the Royal Guard?”

They sit across from each other in Daejojeon. Kim Mun Geun shakes his head, looking particularly unhappy. “I am too old for this, Your Highness. I cannot be expected to follow the king everywhere he goes.”

So Yong pictures her poor father tailing her young, lithe, agile husband. She feels sorry for both of them; Cheoljong probably trying to move as quickly as possible, if only to annoy Kim Mun Geun, and her poor old father trying to keep up with a belligerent charge. An idea forms in her mind. “Father… how’s your knee?”

Kim Mun Geun grimaces, his hand automatically goes to his bad knee. “Not good. Chasing His Majesty everywhere will make it worse…”

“Why don’t you take a step back for a while and let your knees get better?” she suggests, hoping her father would agree. “When you’re better, we can get Prince Yeongpyeong to relinquish the position,” she adds nonchalantly. She hopes that by that time, the king has control over his throne, so Yeongpyeong remains as commander, and her father is back home, not worrying about his knees. Maybe, just maybe, she can secure a different position for him. 

Kim Mun Geun looks at her suspiciously at first, so she adds, “I worry about your health, father. I don’t want you to collapse again because of overexertion.” 

“Ah yes, that is true.”  He pauses for a second, hesitating. “I will do it after the banquet.”

“After the banquet, why?” 

Kim Mun Geun leans forward, then looks around as if to check if someone is listening to their conversation. He speaks in a hushed tone. “I think the clan is up to something.”

“Tell me.” So Yong leans forward too. 

Kim Mun Geun tells her that he suspects someone is out to ruin the banquet. So Yong listens intently to her father’s suspicions, keeping quiet the whole time. 

“They will humiliate His Majesty,” So Yong says later. “Who else knows about this?”

Kim Mun Geun is quiet for a minute. “I suppose the elders,” is his response. He sighs audibly. “You are fond of the king,” he declares matter of factly.

So Yong does not deny it. She does not confirm it either.  Kim Mun Geun and So Yong stare at each other; she looks away first. She remembers that night when her father helped Kim Jwa Geun seal the well. She braces herself for the same harsh rebuke. 

“You are playing with fire.” was all Kim Mun Geun said to her. 

When she doesn’t reply, Kim Min Geun asks her, “Why are you doing this?”

She lifts her eyes to meet her father’s. His eyes are filled with concern and fear for her well being; hers are remorseful but resolute. “Restitution.” 

Kim Mun Geun looks away in understanding, maybe even in shame. He rises to his feet, torn between the clan and his own daughter. 

So Yong stands too, wondering what her father is thinking.  

“Be careful,” is all he says, then leaves. 

--

The following day, So Yong calls on the new concubines. She has been spending a lot of time with them recently, and she could not be happier with the selection. 

She meets the three women at the garden. The morning may be overcast but the flowers made an otherwise gloomy day bright. They sit by the benches close to a patch of red and yellow flowers.

After a few minutes of mindless chit-chat, she asks the concubines the questions she has been meaning to ask. “I understand that the king has invited your clan leaders to attend the banquet.”

“Yes, Your Highnesss,” replies Hong Sim-Hyang effusively, the most gregarious of the three. “Our clan is grateful for the invitation and my father is looking forward to it. 

The two other concubines echo her sentiment. 

“His Majesty will be pleased to see your fathers at the banquet,”  So Yong says, buttering them up before she asks what she needs. 

The three concubines giggle. 

“There is actually something I need from you.” So Yong gives them her most affectionate smile. 

“Please tell us, Your Highness.” Min Ja-Yeon, the prettiest of the three,  urges So Yong.

So Yong tells them. 

Yoon Gyeong-Ok, considered by So Yong as the cleverest, is the first to speak. “I will send a message to my father right away, Your Highness. It will be my clan’s honor.”  

“I will do the same, Your Highness! I will even ask my father to bring peaches. They are in season this time of the year!” 

Hong Sim-Hyang smiles excitedly, her eyes twinkling. “I will do it right away, Your Highness.”

-----

At dusk, Cheoljong sits by his plush cushions, his elbows resting on the low table. He’s been sifting through the pages of his favorite book on military strategy,  but his mind is not on it. Sighing warily, he closes the book with a thump, and pushes it away.

Cheoljong's mind wanders elsewhere; absentmindedly, he looks up and checks the door, willing for it to slide open and usher in the queen. But the doors remains shut, taunting him. Frowning, he lets his mind drift back to the that night at Seonjeongjeon, remembering the feel of her lips against his own, her ragged breath, the sound of her soft whimpers as he deepens the kiss, and the way her touch echoes through his body in a dizzying rush.  

He grabs the same book and opens it again. Minutes later, he realizes that he has been staring at the same page for so long, he gives up and wraps it with the false cover before summoning the eunuch. 

“I will be retiring early, so you can go and rest,” he tells the eunuch tiredly.

“Yes, your Majesty” the eunuch responds in deference. 

“Has the queen dropped by today?” Cheoljong asks, pretending nonchalance. He didn’t want to sound so expectant.  

The eunuch looks thoughtful for a moment, then shakes his head. “No, Your Majesty. Not today.”

“Ok you can leave.” he says, dismissing him. Then, as an afterthought, he adds. “If she comes, let her in. Wake me up, no matter the hour.” 

The eunuch looks momentarily aghast, his eyes widen and his mouth drops open, but he recovers almost immediately.  "Yes, Your Majesty."

When the doors close behind the eunuch, Cheoljong stands up and walks towards one of his drawers. He opens it and pulls at the false bottom. He takes the neatly stacked letters and closes the drawer once more. He walks back to his table and unties the ribbon. The stack is almost twice as thick now, as he managed to write a reply for most of it. He rifles through the stack and pulls one from the bottom. He opens it and reads. This one is short…in fact, the more recent letters are shorter and more impersonal. No matter, he takes a sheet of paper, and starts penning a reply. 

When he is finished, he puts the letters back in the same hidden compartment and makes a mental note to instruct Director Hong to deliver those letters if something happens to him at the banquet. The thought terrifies him, but he shoves it aside. There is no triumph without sacrifice. 

Once he’s seated again, he casts another glance at the door, but there remains no sign of the queen. The quiet night and the closed door mock him. He massages the back of his neck then rolls his shoulder, as disappointment weighs heavily on his heart.

Another book on his table catches his attention.   Dongmongseonseup, it says on the cover. Hwa Jin's beloved book. He uses it as a cipher these days, and he has never really paid attention to its content before. 

It is just a well. It cannot hurt you anymore.  

He opens it and begins to read, hoping to find clues about the queen and the royal consort. He has read the book at least a hundred times, but it never piqued his interest. Maybe because he wasn’t looking for anything in particular then, he is now. He starts rifling through the pages, trying to read between the lines, checking each page painstakingly. He’s not entirely sure what he’s looking for, but perhaps something might trigger his memory. He reads it end-to-end but finds nothing. 

Frustrated, he closes it with a thump and tosses it back onto the low table. He stares at the cover, willing it to magically offer clues. He closes his eyes and buries his head in his hands. When he opens his eyes again, the name written on the book catches his eye. He takes the book once more and inspects the cover.  He never really paid attention before… but now he realized that Hwa Jin's name is scribbled in an area where the outermost layer is torn off. It is as if something has been deliberately erased. What was under Hwa Jin’s name originally?

It is just a well. It cannot hurt you anymore.

No. It cannot be, he thought, bile rising in his gut. 

His thoughts drift to the queen once more, stealing another glance at a door that just won't open. 

There are at least a hundred different things that could go wrong during the banquet tomorrow.   If his plans go awry, there is someone he wants to spend his last night with. He rises to his feet and heads towards Daejojeon.

-----

As So Yong prepares for bed, Lady Choi asks her, “Your Highness, are you not visiting Seonjeongjeon tonight?”

So Yong realizes that Lady Choi must have heard her brief conversation with the king earlier at the pavilion. When she does not answer right away, Lady Choi speaks again, “The king is expecting you.” She gives So Yong a meaningful smile. 

So Yong shakes her head. “I am too tired.” 

She’s not. She’s terrified. Everytime she remembers the last time she was at Seonjeongjeon, she feels a tingling sensation in her belly, and she is terrified of what might have happened if they had taken things further. A lot further.  

But her eyes instinctively close as a rush of memory washes over her body… she is reminded of their kiss, of his breath on her face, of the heat of his body under his silken robes. 

Cheoljong is slipping through the fortress she built around her heart, and she has no idea how to bring it back up again. The protective part of her mind keeps sounding the alarm, screaming of a heartache she might never recover from. If she even has a chance of leaving without her heart in tatters, she must act decisively. She said it herself once before; they are nothing but strangers, on the same road, heading towards different directions. 

She lowers herself on her beddings, and sits. She pulls the covers up to her waist, mentally curating Cheoljong’s list of offenses, from the lake, the book, the scar on her neck, and the small countless cruelties. How foolish must she be to forgive and forget in exchange for a warm kiss and a fleeting touch? She presses her palm to her heart anticipating the hurt, but the heart is a treacherous thing. Instead of anger and resentment, hers beats slow, steady and forgiving underneath her palm. 

Her quiet self-rebuke is interrupted by Lady Choi’s soft voice. She is so lost in thought she has not noticed her coming back to her bed chamber. “The king is here to see you,” she says. 

So Yong is surprised that the king didn’t just enter her chamber as he usually does, but she gestures at Lady Choi to let him in. She rises to her feet as the older lady walks away. Seconds later, Cheoljong enters her bed chamber, clothed in his white and gold silken finery. He doesn’t speak right away; he gives her a once-over then pauses awkwardly mid-way through the bedchamber. 

The room suddenly feels so quiet; So Yong can hear the crickets chirping and the wind whispering outside. Taking in the sight of him in his sleeping robe, So Yong wonders if he was about to turn in and sleep, but changed his mind. 

“I didn’t think you’d come so, I came to see you...” he lets his voice trail off, a muscle in his jaw twitches. “I assumed you would have retired a long time ago.”

“Just about,” she replies as her hands fidget with the fabric of her night dress. “My apologies, Your Majesty. I planned on seeing you but it's been a long day....” So Yong avoids his eyes. “Did you need anything?”

He shakes his head, but steps closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “I just wanted to see you.” 

 “Oh,” she says, as her eyes meet his instinctively, hating how the tone of his voice sends a shiver down her spine. “Tomorrow is the banquet and I thought you might need a good night's sleep.” She looks away again, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. That is of course just her mind talking… the rest of her desperately yearned for him to stay. 

A shadow crosses his face, and he stands there frozen, seemingly unsure what to do. 

So Yong hated seeing him so unassured. She clenches her teeth, her heart and her mind at war.

“I was just about to turn in… but.. but would… would you like to stay… for a little while, Your Majesty?” says her renegade heart. “ To talk …. You can tell me what’s weighing you down,” adds her ascetic mind. 

His face lights up a little, and if So Yong had to guess he seems relieved by the invitation. He walks past her and lowers himself by the edge of her bedding, his legs cross under him. He tilts his head to look at her. “Then you should lie down… I will leave when you are asleep.” 

Unsure what to do, So Yong drops to her knees awkwardly, then changes to a sitting position, pulling the covers up to her waist. Realizing how fidgety she is, she lies down on her back and draws the covers up to her shoulders.  She tilts her head towards Cheoljong who seems pretty content watching her. 

Cheoljong gives her a tiny smile - just a subtle curl of his lip. There’s an odd depth to his expression that So Yong has not seen before.

“Tell me about your day, Your Majesty.” she says, needing solid ground. She’s been free falling the last few days, and she’s trying to find purchase. Maybe a conversation about mundane things would ground her.  

At first, he seems taken aback by her question, but he straightens and lets out a breath. He seems happy to humour her.  “Again, with your banal questions," he says in amusement, but he continues anyway. "Let’s see… My day started with a tedious meeting with the ministers. Then with Director Hong… who seems pretty annoyed - “

 “Director Hong is annoyed ? With you ?” So Yong snickers. The opposite may be true, but she cannot imagine Hong being irked by Cheoljong. “What did you do?”

“Ah.. I have been a little distracted lately.” He looks at So Yong meaningfully, as his lip curls into a smirk at one corner. It was so subtle and yet so inadvertently sultry that So Yong’s toes curl underneath the covers. Instinctively, her eyes fix on his lips, as heat rises to her cheeks, remembering the feel of them against her own. 

“Tell me about your brother,” she goes off on a tangent, because what better topic is there than his dour brother to kill the mood? “Have you always been so close?”

A rueful expression flits across his face. “When we were younger, we used to sneak out together. He used to be stronger and faster than I was - "

"Used to be?" So lifts an eyebrow, as a teasing smile dances at her lips. 

"Long time ago," he responds arrogantly. He smiles so confidently that So Yong's heart flutters. 

He goes on to talk about Yeongpyeong. "He would scale walls twice faster than I could. He used to beat the crap out of me” He chuckles at the memory.

So Yong imagines Cheoljong and Yeongpyeong as boys, daring each other,  Cheoljong playing second fiddle to his brother.  The mental image makes her smile.

“He taught me how to spot the patterns of guards, how to blend in a crowd. He knows the palace walls better than I do.” 

There is a sentimentality to his voice that he has not used before. She remains quiet, willing him to continue. 

 “We are so alike.. We used to be really close,” he adds, sounding regretful. 

“So.. you're not anymore? Close, I mean.” She turns to her side, so she can see Cheoljong better, her hands pressed together to cradle her own cheek. 

He says nothing for so long that So Yong thought he’d never answer - part of the “you can only know a few things about me” Cheoljong package. 

“It’s alright if you cannot tell me,” she tells him softly. “But just you know, I’m not spying on you.” Her last statement is meant to be in jest but it falls flat.

He looks pained like he wanted to say more but he cannot because the words would be a betrayal to someone who matters deeply to him. 

In response, she feigns stifling a yawn and lets her eyelids flutter. She gives Cheoljong a drowsy stare for good measure, then forces her eyes close. She lies still for a long time letting her breath rise and fall, waiting for him to leave. 

Somehow, she must have dozed off because when she opens her eyes  again, the room is bathed in darkness, except for the pale moonlight coming from outside. Her eyes adjust to the dark as she turns on her side, and is surprised to see a sleeping Cheoljong beside her, a serene expression floats over his features. She must have hogged the covers because he is curled into a tight ball at the far end of the bedding. Feeling the slight chill in the air, So Yong rolls closer and tugs at the covers to share it with him. Ignoring the rational part of her brain, she burrows her face into his chest.

“My queen,” he whispers, half asleep half awake, as his arms come around her shoulders so naturally, like he's been doing it for years.  

“Hmmmm” is all she says. His robe is warm and soft against her cheek. She falls back to sleep listening to the steady thud of his heart.

-----

When So Yong wakes up at daybreak, alone, the bedding beside her is cold. She wonders if she dreamt of Cheoljong… but his scent, now familiar to her, is left on the bedding. She shakes off the cobwebs of sleep, and forces herself up. She had something important to do before sunrise.

Minutes later,  she is walking towards the Royal Kitchen with only Lady Choi and Hong Yeon in tow. She intends to speak with the Royal Chef with as little fanfare as possible. 

When she arrives, the Royal Kitchen is already abuzz with preparations for the banquet. She calls on the Royal Chef who is dumbstruck to see her at daybreak, at the royal kitchen, no less. 

“Your Highness!” he says in aghast. The queen has never been to the royal kitchen before; she showed absolutely no interest in the culinary arts either. They were standing by the kitchen’s entrance and the place smelled of smoke and garlic. 

“There is something that I must tell you, but you must keep it to yourself.”

The Royal Chef nods in understanding.

When she is confident that the he understands the importance of secrecy, she proceeds to give him instructions about the “gifts” from the concubines. “I trust that you will do the best you can to make this banquet successful.” 

“It will be my honor, Your Highness.” he responds solemnly. 

With that, she leaves and goes back quietly to Daejojeon. 

---- 

“Your Majesty, we have a situation.” Prince Yeongpyeong whispers in Cheoljong’s ear. “The marauders have taken all the banquet supplies.” Cheoljong is seated at the center of the square surrounded by his ministers, the concubines, the dowager queens - everyone invited at the banquet. The area looks fun and festive, but he feels like bait and sharks are circling him.  

At the corner of his eye, he sees Kim Jwa Geun smirk. The same expression of epicaricacy is painted all over Kim Chang-Hyuk's face. Cheoljong's eyes flick from face to face, taking into account his enemies’ smug indifference. He could almost feel his blood boiling in his veins; he knew they were out to sabotage his plans, but he didn’t expect them to be so frivolous. 

He wills his mind to think, to focus on the problem at hand, but just as he is about to give up, he sees the servants enter the courtyard, carrying what seems like food trays. He steals a glance at Yeongpyeong, but he shrugs, seemingly astonished himself. If he isn’t so enraged, he would have found some humor in the dumbfounded expressions of Kim Byung-Hak and Kim Seok-Geun. 

Cheoljong does not know how the Royal Chef has pulled off the impossible - conjuring a most extravagant feast out of what looks like nothing, but he makes a mental note to express his gratitude later. He sighs in relief as food is distributed across the open courtyard, but an ominous foreboding settles in his chest. The fact remains that the Andong Kim clan will not stop until the banquet is completely ruined. 

------

So Yong is feeling particularly smug with the feast prepared by the Royal Chef. She cannot quite believe it - the concubines came through with their promises. If she had to guess, her clan had managed to intercept all the raw ingredients… but they had not anticipated the “gifts” from the concubines’ clans. She would have to personally thank them and the Royal Chef for saving the banquet.

She is just about to call the event a success when pandemonium breaks loose. First it was Byeong In corralling what seems like Yeongpyeong’s men. Byeong In has always been a loyal and devoted son, but So Yong didn’t realize until then, how far he is willing to go in the name of family.  How does he justify pandering to her clan’s atrocities?

So Yong looks in abject horror as Kim Jwa Geun threatens Cheoljong so openly. This isn’t about Yeongpyeong’s men, no. This is her clan clipping Cheoljong’s wings completely so any hope of freedom is snuffed out completely. 

Faced with impossible choices, So Yong watches helplessly as Cheoljong gives in to Kim Jwa Geun’s demands. She does not quite understand the whole situation, but her heart shatters as she sees her husband looking so deflated, as if the light that burns inside him has been finally extinguished. She has seen many versions of him - livid, smug, cruel, happy, vindictive, but a Cheoljong looking so defeated, just like the boy in the well, is more than she could handle.

If So Yong disliked her clan before, she hates them now with the white-hot fury of a thousand scorching suns.  But So Yong is careful not to show the anger rising inside her. She schools her expression, so her face is a picture of well-rehearsed nonchalance, even as she clenches her fists so forcefully that her nails cut into her palm. She vows to destroy her own clan, if it's the last thing she does. 

So Yong watches a humiliated Cheoljong slowly ascend the steps of a stage at the center of the courtyard. There is an invisible weight that clings to him and it looks heavier with every step he takes... but even in defeat, Cheoljong is rebellion. He is transformation. He is strength and steel. He is courage and compassion. These were So Yong’s last thoughts before a huge explosion rocks the ground, almost knocking her down. The boom echoes around the courtyard as the stage is blown into smithereens, sending Cheoljong flying  across the yard, like a weightless feather. 

Chapter Text

One moment, So Yong can see Cheoljong lighting the incense, his anguish palpable. The next, she hears a blast, black smoke plumes above the stage, and everything descends to anarchy. Frozen, So Yong watches in abject horror as the whole platform crashes to the ground, sending Cheoljong flying across the square.  Her ears are ringing as all hell breaks loose. She hears someone scream, “Your Majesty” as the dowager queens and the concubines scurry away. But So Yong is rooted to the spot, watching Cheoljong in terror as he hits the ground writhing in pain, his face bloodied, covered in soot, and his ceremonial garments are soaked in his own blood. 

Terror washes over her, gripping and yet winding. So Yong lets out an anguished scream, but the sound is muffled by the ringing in her ears. She doesn’t realize she’s sprinting towards Cheoljong, her heart pounding as loud as the blast, until someone yanks her back. “There could be another explosion,” says the voice, which she vaguely recognizes as Byeong-In. 

Undeterred, she pushes Byeong In back, twisting violently trying to be free of him. “Let me go!” So Yong's voice is a tormented shriek, full of confusion and misery and fear, her heart twisting in agony. 

“No!” she screams again, her voice shrill and her throat stings. Her eyes never leave Cheoljong as his brother and the royal guards drag his body away. “Your Majesty!” 

She manages to escape Byeong-In, only for her father to grab her arm and pull her away. She tugs her arm forcefully to be free of her father’s grip, but Kim Mun Geun yells at her. “You have to protect yourself first!”  

So Yong struggles to be free of her own father, pulling at her arm violently, as Kim Mun Geun's face contorts with fury. “You should go!” he shouts. He beckons frantically at the approaching Lady Choi and Hong Yeon. "Take her back Daejojeon. Now." 

So Yong jerks back. She has never seen her father so agitated. 

 “Your Highness,” says Lady Choi calmly. She catches So Yong’s elbow in a firm yet gentle grip. "Please come with us." 

But So Yong doesn’t want to leave. She stops struggling, but glares at her own father defiantly. 

Her father’s voice softens as he looks her dead in the eye, his tone no longer furious, but grave, entreating, “If you want to help His Majesty, go now.”

So Yong’s mind is in a frenzy, but her father’s pleading tone gives her pause, grounding her. 

Kim Mun Geun looks at Lady Choi and gestures with his head,  “Take the queen to Daejojeon. Hurry.” 

Finally, she lets herself be dragged away by Hong Yeon and Lady Choi, as she casts one last tormented glance at the melee surrounding her husband. 

----

So Yong locks herself inside her bedchamber. She paces the room, agitated and distraught. The image of Cheoljong being flung across the yard plays non-stop in her mind. 

She isn’t expecting company but her father makes an unexpected visit. The concerned expression on his face, as he moves towards her, reminds So Yong of the days when she’s just his daughter, not a queen.  She wants to be a little girl again, sheltered and cared-for.

“Father,” she greets him despondently. 

“I came to check on you,” he says gently, eyeing her from head to toe, checking to see if she’s hurt. 

“I am alright,” she replies listlessly. 

They both sit. Kim Mun Geun lowers himself to the cushion with the practiced ease of a nobleman, while So Yong plops down like a sack of potatoes. She is too distraught to care. If her father notices it, he does not say anything,

“How is the king?” Kim Mun Geun asks, treading carefully.

“I don’t know,” So Yong replies honestly, her voice breaking. She is staring blankly at the intricate designs of the lacquer table, her mind at Huijeongjeon. 

Kim Mun Geun stares at her disconsolate daughter and confirms a few things he’s always known to be true. One, her anguish is real. Two, he cannot bear the thought of her breaking apart another time, and third, he may be part of the Kim clan, but he is a father first. 

His voice softens. “My daughter...”  he says, looking at So Yong seated across from him, her eyes glaze and her index finger is tracing floral designs on the table unconsciously. “My daughter..” he repeats, a little louder, drawing her attention.

“My daughter….” he says again, entreating. So Yong lifts her head and her eyes are wet from unshed tears.  “You must pull yourself together.” 

She nods bravely, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“So Yong, be honest with me,” Kim Mun Geun leans forward, his brows furrow. “Do you genuinely care about his Majesty?”

A tear escapes So Yong’s eye. She wipes it away, and she keeps silent.

Kim Mun Geun looks at her sympathetically. “Then you must be prudent with your actions. You are being watched.”

“Is our clan behind this?” Her tone is sharp like a sword. She is afraid to think that her own father might have something to do with it. Shame and guilt fills her heart. 

“I do not know, you must believe me,” he implores. “But I would not put it past Kim Jwa Geun,” he whispers. 

“Why?” 

“His Majesty’s passing means they can enthrone a new king. The clan suspects his majesty is up to something. Our clan does not tolerate... unknown variables”

She leans forward as her hands grip the edge of the low table. So Yong bristles at the implication of her father's words. “Father, are you here to ask if I know about his plans? Did the clan send you to spy on me?” 

Kim Mun Geun shakes his head, as concern clouds his features.  “No, I came here to see how you’re holding up.” A pause. “Parents know when their children are up to something…” he says obscurely. 

“Then, are you here to ask me to stop?”

“I came here to tell you, that whatever it is you’re doing is very dangerous.” 

So Yong does not respond. She looks away. She hears her father sigh. 

“All these… for his Majesty.” he says with a look of resignation. 

This time So Yong shakes her head. “I’m not doing this because of His Majesty, father.”

Kim Mun Geun gives So Yong a dubious look. 

“Ok, maybe I am. But it is not just that. He will make a good king. He cares about people. I want to help him build a better future for our country…” She pauses to look her father in the eye, beseeching him to understand. “I do not wish to be silent anymore. Silence is the defense of the oppressed, and a privilege to the oppressor.”

If Kim Mun Geun isn’t so afraid of his daughter’s safety, he’d be immensely proud of her. He knows full well how vicious his own clan is, and if she is discovered to be a turncoat, she would be punished severely. For now he keeps it to himself. Instead he says, “There is a lot of confusion right now, which is why you must be prudent with your words and actions. This is the time for you to observe and plan ahead, not the time for action.”

“Why are you telling me all these, father?” 

Kim Mun Geun is quiet for a beat, his eyes filled with introspection. He cannot stand seeing her daughter crumble inside, again, alone. “I almost lost you once, So Yong-ah. I cannot lose you again.” A pause. There is a wet sheen to her father’s eyes. 

They did not speak after that, but Kim Mun Geun stayed a few more minutes to keep her brave inconsolable daughter company. Restitution , he thought, echoing his daughter’s earlier words. Maybe her daughter’s courage is rubbing off on him. 

Minutes after Kim Mun Geun leaves, Byeong In comes to visit too.

“Is there any news on His Majesty?” she asks frantically.

Byeong In looks at her with longing, making her feel uncomfortable. “Are you really that worried about the king?”

 The question rankles her - the king is severely injured, of course she is worried. She bites back an angry retort, remembering her father’s words from earlier. You must be prudent with your actions. You are being watched. She schools her expression, and replies tonelessly. “As the queen, I do. So do you know who is behind the blast earlier?"

“So Yong-ah - “

An image of Byeong In corralling Yeongpyeong’s men flashes across So Yong’s mind. She wonders if Byeong In is privy to the assassination plot against Cheoljong. It is a well known fact that he is Kim Jwa Geun’s and the Grand Dowager Queen’s most trusted follower. He has not made his animosity towards Cheoljong a secret either. 

“You will address me as, ‘Your Highness.’ It is inappropriate for you to keep calling me by that name. Right now I am more interested in knowing if you have any information to share about what happened today.”  

Byeong In stares at her, his mouth agape. She continues. “Threats to His Majesty’s life are threats to mine, and my position as the queen. I take such threats very seriously.” 

“I will protect you with my life - ” 

“You will protect me, and His Majesty, because of the position you hold. Nothing more. Now tell me, is there any news on His Majesty?”

“There is none. Yeongpyeong has locked down Huijeongjeon…”

“Do you know who is behind this?”

Byeong In shakes his head, “No, but…” his voice trails off.

“Tell me.” 

“We may have a lead on the raids. It is possible that it is connected to the blast.” 

“A lead?”

“It is likely that the Jo clan is behind the raids on our clan’s properties…” he pauses, giving So Yong a meaningful look. “It is possible they are behind the robbery at your father’s house that night.” His expression then contorts viciously. “I will catch your attacker and cut his head off.”

So Yong is baffled… the Jo clan? And then she remembers her conversation with Cheoljong that night when they argued. 

I sent my men to rob the warehouse so they don't suspect you when your father discovers the ledgers are missing.

It happened on the same day her father told her about the robbery.  

They left something by accident…. It is a piece of clothing. I gave it to Kim Byeong In. He is investigating the incident.

She would have smiled at Cheoljong’s sly trick if the current situation isn’t so dire. Her expression darkens again as she remembers Cheoljong’s current condition.

Byeong In mistakes the look as concern for her own safety. “I will not stop until I catch every single one of them, Your Highness.”

She nods. “Is there anything else?”

Byeong In looks at her longingly one more time, then shakes his head. 

“Then you may leave. I want to be left alone now.” She says, dismissing him coldly. 

Hurt flashes crosses Byeong In’s face, but So Yong keeps her vacant expression until the doors close behind him. There is nothing she can do for him. She wanted to erase the memory of Byeong In pandering to her clan's atrocities… but it remains etched in her memory, like an ugly old scar. 

So Yong lets out a breath she doesn't realize she’s holding. Her muscles are rigid, probably from the tension of holding herself together all afternoon. The pain in her heart returns and she shudders as anxiety, anger and fear overwhelms her. She slumps unceremoniously on the bedding, wanting to scream, cry and bang her head on the wall at the same time, but like her father said, she must pull herself together. 

Minutes later, she finds herself walking towards Cheoljong’s private chambers, apprehension getting the best of her. Everything is quiet at Huijeongjeon. The servants who scramble to open the sliding doors for her, look grim, like they’re already in mourning. She hated the atmosphere, she hated their somber expressions, she hated the eunuch’s doleful face, she hated not knowing what to do next, she hated the weight that tugs heavily at her heart, she hated Cheoljong for getting hurt. 

So Yong sucks in a breath as soon as Cheoljong’s heavily bandaged body comes into view. She can only see his eyes, now closed, as his whole head is wrapped in gauze. She kneels beside him in trepidation, and without taking her eyes off his injured form, she asks the royal physician who’s sitting on the other side of the bedding. “Did you have to wrap his whole face?”

He replies apologetically, but his words do not register to So Yong. She is too busy looking at Cheoljong. When her hands shake at the piteous sight of Cheoljong, she balls her fist. She wants to shake him and tell him to get up, the joke isn’t funny. She wants to tell him that she intends to continue his fight, but she’s afraid to do it without him. She wants to tell him that if she could bargain her life with his, she would. 

She is a jumble of emotions - fear, remorse, despair, doubt, shock, fury. She holds on to the latter; anger keeps her going, it propels her forward. She imagines lighting her own clan on fire, to let them burn until all that’s left of their atrocities are their ashes. 

She sits by his bedside as silent tears spill from her eyes. 

A few minutes later, Hwa Jin enters the room. So Yong gives her a brief nod of acknowledgement but turns her attention back to Cheoljong almost immediately. She feels so hollowed out, that for the first time, she doesn’t find the concubine's presence grating. 

Hwa Jin drops to her knees and takes the spot next to her, tears spilling from her eyes.  She leans forward and takes his hand gently. She presses a kiss to his knuckles, murmuring sentimental nonsense (to which So Yong eyes roll), but the love in her anguished tone is pure and clear.

So Yong marvels at the way Hwa Jin reaches out to touch Cheoljong so easily, so naturally,  like she’s so used to it. A stab of jealousy fills her heart. She hates the way Hwa Jin makes her feel like an interloper.  

She keeps silent as Hwa Jin sobs silently beside her. 

"How can they do this to His Majesty?" she says as she runs a hand against Cheoljong's bandaged face.  “How can your clan do this to him.”

So Yong is so deep in her thoughts that she almost didn’t hear Hwa Jin speak. She battles the urge to recoil; the comment is too close to home. If her clan is truly behind the blast then what right does she have to ever touch him at all, again, ever?

She stays quiet, letting Hwa Jin vent. 

Quiet rage fills Hwa Jin’s voice. "You don't get the right to sit here." 

Anger rolls through So Yong but still, she holds her tongue.  

So Yong's silence spurns Hwa Jin further. She expels air then steels herself. “How can you do this to him?” 

It is unbecoming to bicker by someone’s sickbed, but So Yong has had it. “If my clan is behind this..” She pauses to meet her bloodshot eyes, and then lowers her voice so only Hwa Jin would hear,  “he’d be dead.” 

The self-righteous concubine’s eyes widen in shock at her callous words. So Yong does not care. She needs to vent her anger too. 

Taking advantage of her silence, So Yong continues. “My clan doesn’t make mistakes.” 

Hwa Jin’s face is alight with fury, “If you think I will sit by and let you harm His Majesty, you are wrong. If something happens to him, I will make sure you regret this -” she hisses.

So Yong cuts her off, as her annoyance flares. “If something happens to him, I will strip you off of your title.” 

Hwa Jin stares at So Yong in aghast, as her jaw drops. She’s never been threatened like that before. 

So Yong continues, her voice low, arctic, menacing. “Threaten me again, Royal Consort , and you will understand exactly what regret is.”

So Yong leaves before she makes good on her promise. The prospect of doing just that is tempting, but there is enough harm for the day.

------

So Yong lost count of the times by which she was tempted to visit Cheoljong, but shame and guilt kept her from doing so. She has made it as far as the king’s sliding doors at least twice, but everytime she attempts to cross the threshold to his private chambers, she is overcome with shame. She kept wondering if it was her clan behind the blast.  If the servants noticed her guilt, they kept silent. 

“Your Highness, please eat something.” Hong Yeon tells her a few days later “You haven’t eaten anything decent for a while now.” She inspects the barely-touched food on her low table, lamenting So Yong’s loss of appetite. 

So Yong knows Hong Yeon is right. She sees her own gaunt face each time she looks at the mirror, but everything tastes bland the last few days. She’s been losing sleep too.  Everyday, her anxiety over Cheoljong’s condition grows. The hardest part of it is keeping herself together in front of everyone, especially her clan. You must be prudent with your actions. You are being watched, her father once said.  But pretending to be well, while she's falling apart inside is taking a toll on So Yong. 

There hasn’t been any news about the king’s condition for days; Yeongpyeong keeps a tight lid on Huijeongjeon. Meanwhile, her father tells her that Kim Jwa Geun and the Dowager Queen are secretly lining up a replacement for Cheoljong, should he not make it. So Yong is livid at the thought of her clans elders selecting a replacement while Cheoljong lies in bed fighting for his life. She vows to avenge Cheoljong if she finds proof that her lunatic clan elders are behind the explosion.

At the same time, So Yong is shocked and confused by her own reaction. She should be thinking about her safety, and her exit strategy. If, and that is a huge if, something happens to Cheoljong, she will be free, at least to a considerable extent. She will no longer be constantly threatened, and the pressure to produce an heir would die along with her husband. But the image of Cheoljong being flung across the yard fills her with rage and sorrow, and the thought of Cheoljong dying is more than So Yong's fragile heart can handle. 

At the corner of her eye, she sees Hong Yeong’s tears streaming down her face. “What’s wrong?” she asks, concerned. 

“I worry about His Majesty, and you, Your Highness,” she replies sniffling. 

Before So Yong can tell Hong Yeon not to worry, Lady Choi enters her bedchamber. She looks winded, as if she ran all the way to Daejojeon to break her news. Heart sinking, So Yong braces herself for whatever baleful news she brings with her. 

“His Majesty has recovered,” she declares; she is in tears but her face is alight with relief.

She stares blankly at Lady Choi, wondering if she’s heard her right.  “His Majesty is back. He attended a meeting with his ministers earlier today.” 

Relief washes over So Yong, like rain falling on a scorching summer day. One moment she is sitting down, the next, she is on her feet. In haste, she stumbles. All the anguish in the last few days overwhelm her. She slumps and lets tears of joy and relief spill from her eyes. 

“Shall we go to Huijeongjeon, Your Highness?” Lady Choi asks kindly. The older lady has witnessed the queen’s misery in the last few days, and she’s happy to see the smile back on her face. 

Much to Lady Choi’s surprise, So Yong shakes her head. “I can’t,” she says wretchedly, her voice breaking once more. 

--

It is late afternoon, and Cheoljong is back at Huijeongjeon. He just finished his meeting with his ministers - it is the meeting he waited for the last two years of his life. Seeing his ministers look so defeated made up for all the insults and indignities he suffered the last few years. He has finally gotten rid of Kim Jwa Geun, and is so close to removing the grand dowager queen as regent. Tomorrow, when he wakes up, he will truly be the King of Joseon.

The eunuch is fussing over him. Cheoljong knows the eunuch spies on him for the dowager queen, but he can see the relief in his face the moment he recovers. He knows the poor man is left with no choice in the matter. He understands that feeling - to be faced with impossible choices. He can only hope that when he finally gets rid of both the Jo and Kim clans, his people will have better options, that they live a life devoid of intimidation and oppression. 

“I am alright,” he tells the eunuch. 

The eunuch stops to look at Cheoljong, there is a wet sheen in his eyes. “I am relieved to see you well, Your Majesty.” 

Cheoljong removes the remaining bandage from his face. They sting a little but it is nothing compared to the excruciating pain he went through the last few days..the last couple of years. “You worry too much, Head Eunuch” Cheoljong chides him lightly. 

He hears before he sees the sliding doors burst open, expecting, hoping it is the queen, but he sees a frantic Hwa Jin instead. 

“Your Majesty!” Hwa Jin exclaims as soon as she sees Cheoljong standing in the middle of the room. She runs into him without slowing and his body rocks back a foot on impact. She wraps her arms tightly around Cheoljong, and drops her head on his shoulder. “You’re back” she says in a half sob. “You are really back, Your Majesty!”

Hwa Jin catches Cheoljong by surprise. Hesitantly, he wraps her arms around her and strokes her back, relieved to see her. 

In general, he is relieved to be back in the land of the living. 

When Hwa Jin leaves, Cheoljong realizes that everyone he truly cares about has come to see him - Yeongpyeong, Hong, Hwa Jin. Even the eunuch seems truly happy to see him up and about. He steals a glance at the door.

“Are you waiting for the Queen, Your Majesty?” the eunuch asks kindly. 

He doesn’t bother to deny it. “I have not seen her in a while,” he replies. He cannot help it, he asks the eunuch carefully, “Have you seen her recently?” He wanted to know whether the queen had paid her visit when he was fighting for his life. 

The eunuch makes a face, unsure how to answer delicately. “On the night the blast happened, she came to check on you, Your Majesty, but I have not seen her after that.” 

I suppose she didn’t care as much, Cheoljong thought. It hurt him more than his injuries did. 

-------

The servants have started firing up the low lamps as dusk starts to settle in. Cheoljong can hear them chatter happily, talking about his return to health.

He is sorting out  scrolls at Seonjeongjeon.  He is restless. He has so many plans, so many things he wants to do when he finally ascends to power, but now that he’s finally there, he wonders which issues need his attention first. His mind is aflame with things to do. He opens one scroll after another, but he feels as if he’s not getting anything done. 

Something nags at him: the queen’s previous request to let her go. He yearned to see her the moment he gained consciousness, but something stopped him. He was genuinely afraid that she might bring up leaving again and deliver on her promise. 

He and the queen seem to have reached some type of equilibrium, but there is still so much left unsaid. He has a lot left unsaid. He hopes that she would change her mind, that she would realize what a great queen she would make, and that whatever fears she has about her safety, it is irrelevant now, he will protect her with his own life, as a king, as her husband. He is even willing to guarantee Kim Mun Geun’s safety, the man who conspired to leave him for dead, if that is what it takes to make her stay. 

While Cheoljong does not deserve the tiniest scrap of affection from her, he hopes that she has come to care for him… Sometimes, when her eyes aren’t so guarded, and her expression softens, he finds hope in them.  He cannot change the past, but he hopes that time will allow him to make up for his past cruelties. He wants nothing more than a chance to redeem himself, and make him worthy of her affection. 

He worried about her before the banquet, wondering how she would react if the explosion injures him so horribly. He almost told her about his plans that night he went to Daejojeon. He does not want her to worry.. He hates seeing her cry. He regretted not telling her when he saw her screaming at the courtyard after the blast, looking so distraught. His ears were ringing, and he felt excruciating pain all over her body, but he ached at the sight of the queen looking so terrified. He made Hong promise to look after her if something horrible happens to him, but it looks like he worried over nothing. He should take some comfort from that, but the thought is a stab to his heart. 

The palace is abuzz with his convalescence all day, so Cheoljong’s only conclusions are: one, it is unlikely she hasn’t found out about his full recovery; and two, she is not as concerned as he imagined she would be. 

His thoughts are interrupted when the eunuch announces Yeongpyeong. When the sliding doors open, he sees the Royal Chef in tow. He remembers asking Yeongpyeong to summon the chef so he can express his gratitude personally. He knows he does not need to, but as King, he wants to give people credit for their actions. 

Yeongpyeong gives him a brief bow in greeting and moves aside to give way to the chef. 

“Your Majesty!” the chef says in greeting as he bows in deference. “We are delighted to hear about your full recovery!”

Cheoljong steps down from the dais and walks towards the chef. “That was a most excellent feast, Royal Chef.”

The chef’s face lights up at his compliments. He bows again and thanks Cheojong profusely for his kind words. “Thank you, Your Majesty! But I only did what I was tasked to do… prepare the feast for your banquet.”

“There is something I want to ask.” Cheoljong says carefully, looking the chef in the eye. “The dishes you served are inspired, but they were different from what we’ve talked about.” Cheoljong clasps his hands behind his back as he waits for the chef's reaction.

“Ah yes, Your Majesty. The supplies I expected never came. I hear they have been commandeered by marauders on the way to the palace. So I had to change the menu. My apologies, Your Majesty. There was no time to inform you.” 

Cheoljong waits for him to continue his story, to tell him where the second set of supplies came from, but the chef looks agitated, like he does not want to provide more information. Cheoljong wonders why he is being so cagey.   

“If the supplies have been seized by robbers, where did you get the supplies you used for the banquet?”

The chef’s eyes darted around the hall, refusing to meet Cheoljong eyes. “We used the fruits and vegetables from the Royal farm.”

“What about the rest? Royal Chef, I need you to tell me the truth. Where did you get the supplies?”

“They were gifts from the concubine’s clans,” he says hesitantly. He is being so shifty that Cheoljong is almost too sure he is deliberately hiding information from him. 

“But why did they bring so much…?”

The chef does not answer right away; he looks torn and agitated. 

“Tell me,” says Cheoljong stiffly. He is losing patience. 

“It.. It…It is the queen’s request. She asked the concubines.  It was as if she knew the supplies would be stolen, Your Majesty! She came by the royal kitchen on the morning of the banquet and instructed me to meet the supplies by the west gate. She says they were gifts from the concubines’ clans.” he speaks in a rush, like he wants to say everything in a single breath. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. The queen made me promise not to tell you… or anyone.”

Cheoljong and Yeongpyeong exchanged glances, both astounded by the information. Neither of them cannot believe the fact that it was the queen who saved them again. 

When the royal chef leaves, both Cheoljong and Yeongpyeong are quiet. Cheoljong goes back to his throne and sits. Yeongpyeong for once is at a loss for words 

Yeongpyeong speaks finally, rooted into place, looking completely chastised. “She saved the banquet.” 

Cheoljong rubs his temples, bracing for another tirade on the queen. None came. 

“She saved the banquet.”  Yeongpyeong  says it again, but more to himself, like he cannot quite believe it. 

“You should retire early,” Cheoljong says instead. “It has been a long day. I’m going back to Huijeongjeon.”

Yeongpyeong doesn’t argue. He looks at Cheoljong, dips his head and leaves.

With that, Cheoljong is left to his own thoughts again. 

----

So Yong just finished changing into her night dress, and her braid is still damp from her bath. She can hear the soft chatter of servants outside as they talk excitedly about the king’s full recovery. She overhears their comments about the king looking more attractive after coming back from the dead.

So Yong rolls her eyes at the vapid conversation.

Hong Yeon is busy preparing her beddings, as So Yong watches her absentmindedly. Cheoljong has never left her mind the whole day, and she is glad for the distraction of Hong Yeon’s company. 

“Your Highness… “ Hong Yeon speaks tentatively. “Are you not curious about His Majesty’s recovery?”

“Of course, I am. He is the king” she replies off-handedly.

“So.. why have you not visited him today? Do you not miss his company?” she blurts out. Realizing that she must have crossed some line, Hong Yeon attempts to backpedal. “I mean.. The last few days you seem so worried, so I thought…” 

Hong Yeon finishes her task, and sidles up to So Yong. She grins at the queen knowingly. "Your highness, your cheeks are red. You must have been thinking about his Majesty."

So Yong tries not to blush. Instead, her traitorous cheeks burn hotter. “It's warm" she says, making a show of fanning her face with her hand. 

Hong Yeon grins. “The other maids always talk about the king. They say he is quite dashing”. 

So Yong pretends to be exasperated, but a montage of images flash across her mind. Cheoljong's worried face that night when she was attacked, his face bathed in moonlight, his serene features when he's sleeping, the heat that turns his copper eyes to dark pools right before he kisses her…

She averts her gaze knowing full well how red her face must be. 

“Your Highness, the king is here.”

The sound of Lady Choi’s voice announcing the king’s presence interrupts her reverie. Hong Yeon rises so quickly, she almost falls back to her feet again. She gives So Yong a quick clumsy bow then scampers to leave. 

She rises too; she walks forward then stops… she takes another step forward, then takes one back. She brushes invisible lint from the front of her night dress, then balls her fists to stop herself from fidgeting. She doesn’t know why she’s feeling so nervous and so self-conscious suddenly. The butterflies in her stomach flap their wings eagerly, and she’s feeling breathless. 

When Cheoljong appears in So Yong’s view, dressed in his glorious white and gold ensemble, unexpected joy danced through her heart. She is never so happy or so relieved to see him. 

When he sees So Yong, Cheoljong's steps falter. “My Queen…” he says tentatively, like he’s afraid she’d chase him away. His eyes sweep her body, then his gaze return to her face. 

She stands in the middle of the room, shifting her weight from one foot to another, unsure whether to step forward to meet him, or wait for him to come closer. 

He takes a step forward cautiously, appraising her. His gaze stays on So Yong, and it rankles her. She wants to be somewhere else, but at the same time there is nowhere else she’d rather be. 

She is reminded how terrified she was, thinking he might not pull through, she imagined the remainder of her days without him. She feared the absolute dreadful worst. But he got through it, he is well and he’s right in front of her. He’s real, and solid and his eyes shine in the yellow glow of the low lamps. 

All the worry, fear and grief in the last few days come crashing onto So Yong like a huge wave threatening to pull her in. 

“You’re….okay,” She says as her voice breaks, finally letting go of all the tension. Before she can stop it, So Yong bursts into tears. She doesn’t even bother to stop the tears from spilling down her cheeks. 

“You’re crying?” he says disbelievingly. He sounds so stunned about the fact that she’s crying over him. "Why?"

So Yong’s heart is pounding so hard she has to press a hand to her chest. “I was worried for you!” she wails. 

One moment Cheoljong is standing from across the chamber, the next he is striding forward. Wordlessly, he grips So Yong’s waist with both hands, then presses his mouth to hers. For a moment she freezes, completely stunned, but her body quickly catches up. She stands on tiptoe and kisses him in return as she wraps both arms around his neck, yielding to his touch, whimpering, softening in the circle of his arms. She kisses him with all the pent-up desire and longing in the last few days. 

Heat pools in So Yong’s lower abdomen as Cheoljong deepens the kiss. She arches herself against him, molding her soft body against his, as he snakes his arms around her, crushing her even closer until there was absolutely no space between them. 

After a while the kiss softens as Cheoljong lifts a hand to frame her face. He pulls away ever so slightly. His face, a whisper of a breath away from hers, staring at So Yong with an intense yearning she’s hardly ever dared to dream he would look at her with. 

Feeling like she needed to explain why she never came to check on him, she speaks softly, her arms still clasped around Cheoljong’s neck, “Forgive me for not coming to see you.. I wanted to, I did, I really did.. but you must understand -”

She doesn’t get to finish what she wanted to say because Cheoljong slants his head and his mouth is on hers again, alternating between soft playful nibbles on her lower lip, and soul-searing sensual kisses.

“Wait..” So Yong says, drawing back a little. 

Cheoljong looks at her baffled, his body humming. 

“I came to see…. you that night…. after the explosion… but - “

Cheoljong's head dips, nudging her chin upward so he can kiss down her neck, and her head falls backward. So Yong can hardly form a coherent thought as Cheoljong trails light kisses along her jaw, down to her neck. “I’m listening,” he says in between hot open-mouthed kisses. One hand comes up to cup the back of her neck.

“I.. I.. wondered if..if..” So Yong tilts her head back, wondering what point she is trying to make. When his lips reach the hollow of her neck where her pulse beats, she whimpers and all thoughts are out the window. 

Sensing that So Yong is done talking, Cheoljong teases his way back to her mouth, kissing her like it is his last day on earth. When they break apart, they were both gasping for air. So Yong places a hand against his cheek. Using her thumb, she traces a faint scar from the blast. Her eyes water again, remembering how close she was to losing him forever. “I thought I lost you,” she whispers. 

Cheoljong leans into her touch, momentarily closing his eyes, reveling in the queen’s affection. When he opens them again, he touches the hand on his cheek, pulling it down just a little so he can brush his lips across her inner wrist. He guides her hand lower and presses her palm on his chest, right where his heart is. Under her palm, she can feel the rapid pounding of his heart. 

“That is what you do to me,” he says softly, earnestly, sending a surge of heat down her belly.

He lets go of her hand only to slide his arms around her waist again. He drops his forehead to touch hers and she becomes intensely aware of the aching distance between them, and the overwhelming temptation to cross the invisible line once and for all. 

“My queen..” he whispers tenderly, reverently, his eyes searching hers. Cheoljong kisses her again with a tender passion that steals her breath and makes her toes curl. 

With the solemn deference reserved only for the divine, he says, “Be with me tonight.”

Chapter Text

“My queen..” he whispers against her lips as shivers race up and down her spine.

His thumb caresses her cheek, then takes a leisurely path down her jaw, along the column of her neck pausing for a moment to trace her scar, then he makes light feathery strokes along the backs of her arms, the light touch leaving shivers in their wake.

When Cheoljong looks into her eyes, he can almost see his own emotions reflected in hers. There’s a word Cheoljong could use to describe what he feels at that very moment, at every moment. A word he would use, if he is much braver, but he is afraid… terrified the word would send her back behind her icy barrier. A tiny, four-letter word with enormous, far-reaching implications.

Unable to tell her, Cheoljong’s lips softly brush the corner of her mouth, then changes the angle of his head so he can press his lips squarely against hers, increasing the pressure. He brings his hand to frame her face and sweeps his tongue between her lips. He slides his fingers from her neck down to her shoulders, his thumbs grazing the outer slopes of her breasts. She gasps at the sensation, and his tongue delves deeply. His lips are soft and full and demanding against hers. His hands settle on her hips and he pulls her even closer to him. She feels every bit of longing and desperation from the last few days as Cheoljong kisses her even harder.

His lips coast down her chin to her throat, causing every nerve ending in her body to spark. The heat of his breath touches her skin, followed by the tip of his tongue. Her head lolls back, as his teeth graze the sensitive skin of her pulse point. Unsure of what to do with her hands, So Yong curls a hand at the back of his neck, flattening her body against his. At her movement, Cheoljong makes a half moan, half growl sound, and his mouth is back on hers, slipping his tongue deeper into her mouth.

Cheoljong breaks the kiss and breathes heavily against her lips. His warm brown eyes, as they gaze into hers, are darker than a moonless night and they smolder in the yellow flame of the lamps.

“Be with me tonight.” he implores her. There is a rare vulnerability to his expression, an intensity that So Yong only ever dreamed of.

Every part of So Yong’s body screams “no”, urging her to resist closing that dangerous invisible gap between the two of them. Because in that space was the line of no return.

But in a small breath, she defies every rational thought and utters, “Yes”

So Yong’s reply is soft, breathy, almost inaudible, but it was all Cheoljong needed. In an instant, he is kissing her again with an intensity that makes her knees weak, only the arm around her waist is keeping her upright. He draws at her bottom lip and touches the tip of her tongue with his own. He takes his time kissing her, and she responds in equal fervor. Her tongue caresses his and his soft groan echoes in the warm cave of her mouth.

She clings to his shoulder as Cheoljong pulls her flush against him, perfectly aligning her hips with his. She can feel every inch of his tall, lithe form, and when she feels the unmistakable hardness underneath his silken robe, So Yong gasps. When she wiggles closer, brushing against his arousal, a low groan spills from his mouth into hers.

Cheoljong’s fingers pull the gossamer material of her night dress, easing the piece of clothing down as he bends, his lips brushing one naked shoulder. Then the other.

A whimper escapes her as Cheoljong angles her head, exposing her neck, kissing her collarbone, her throat, the line of her jaw, her scar, sucking gently at her skin. Cheoljong’s hands roam her body, her sides, her back, her rear, and when he palms her breasts they both moan in pleasure.

Before she can melt into a puddle, Cheoljong scoops her up, like she’s weightless and carries her to the beddings. A maddening rush of sensations shot through So Yong as he goes down on his knees and her back hits the soft plush bedding. His powerful body hovers over hers, caging her in. He braces himself, his hands to either side of her face.

So Yong expects Cheoljong to continue kissing her but he only gazes down at her.

“Tell me you want this… That you won’t regret this should...”

Cheoljong takes one labored breath fearing her response, like it physically hurts him to even say it. “That you won’t regret this should… should you still choose to leave.”

Her chest burns, but in a rare moment of clarity, she says. “I want this.” And because that isn’t enough, she adds, “I want you.”

To prove her point, she pulls at the string on his clothes, and then tugs at his robe. Cheoljong pulls his arms from the robe, as So Yong pushes his clothes open with awkward determination. She swallows at the sight of his chest and torso. His skin, marred with a few scars, some healed, some new, stretched taut over the broad expanse of muscle. She slides her hands over his chest, towards his torso, and her hands shake as she traces the more recent scars… perhaps from the blast. He flinches when her hands touch a still-inflamed skin on his right chest. When her eyes water at the sight, he bends down to kiss her tears away.. “It does not hurt as much,” he whispers. It humbles him to see her cry over his injuries.

When she raises her face to plant a soft kiss to his still tender skin, he makes an inarticulate sound deep in his throat. Reaching up, she clasps his biceps and squeezes. Cheoljong sucks in breath at her touch.

Cheoljong uses his arms to brace himself above her, like he's afraid he'd crush her, but wanting to feel more of him, So Yong slides her hands around his shoulders and tugs him down, urging him to put all of his weight on her. Cheoljong complies and they both groan at the contact. When he moves, the pressure and friction at her aching center drive So Yong mad. She grips his arms, bucking against him, grinding her pelvis against his. “My queen..” he grunts at the delicious friction.

His lips find her neck as his body sinks deeper into hers and So Yong moans. He nips at her scar, as he always does, then his mouth is kissing the hollow of her neck where her pulse is. He rains tiny kisses on her throat, her collarbone, and So Yong arches into him, exposing more of her neck. A wonderful warmth slips down her neck, across her chest, and then lower, between her thighs.

She feels a series of tugs at her nightdress, and her hands gripped the sheets in utter frustration, her body aching for his touch. So Yong shimmies out her clothes in record time as his kisses descend down to the swell of her breasts. When he deliberately avoids the taut aching peaks, teasing her, she whimpers, gripping his shoulders.

He finally gives in, taking one nipple in his mouth, and she moans, arching her back. His hand gives her other nipple a similar attention. He was just about to give her a smug smile, but she opens her legs to accommodate him better, and all thoughts of teasing are lost. "My Queen," he says in a groan.

So Yong feels his hands on her hips, sliding downwards, skimming the inside of her thighs. Her back arches and her fingers claw at the plush beddings when his fingers find her. He parts her and delves a finger.. then another, into her moist aching heat.

“Your Majesty…” So Yong chokes out, as Cheoljong finds that secret hidden nub, pressing into it, rolling it between his fingers. “Please…”

Just when So Yong thought she cannot take it any longer, Cheoljong slides down her body. And with her quivering under him, he lowers his face and slides his tongue inside of her. Her hips buckle, but he holds her against the bedding, licking and sucking at the apex of her thighs until a loud moan escapes from her lips.

Soyong’s back bowed, trying to find something to hold on to, the world tilting as he caressed the inside of her, his mouth consuming her again, the pressure building deep in her core. She falls back against the sheet, hands reaching for him, pulling at him.

Then his mouth is on hers again, kissing her long and hard, his hard length teasing her wet center… not penetrating, just sliding against her, teasing her already hypersensitive opening. Instinctively, So Yong lifts her hips, and locks her legs around his waist, drawing him down, desperate for him to fill her. “Please…” she moans.

Cheoljong settles between her thighs, pushing into her slowly, shaking with the effort to be gentle. Every part of So Yong’s body can feel his sundering thrust, and Cheoljong murmurs against her neck, trying to soothe her even as he pushes farther, taking her, holding her, worrying about her… afraid he might hurt her.

When they are completely joined, he goes still, trying not to cause her further pain. Her body is sore from the sweet aching stretch. He is hard inside her, and So Yong absorbs the strange wonderful feeling of being possessed, of feeling utterly complete…memorizing the moment Cheoljong belongs to her only.

So Yong pulls his face towards hers begging for a kiss. He gives it to her, putting every promise, every apology and every beautiful thing that goes with the four-letter word he is too afraid to say, into the kiss. His tongue tangles with hers, swallowing her moans, as his body absorbs her every cry, every tremor, every shudder.

He thrusts into her one final time, and she breaks apart in one helpless, very unlady-like cry. Cheoljong crushes his mouth over hers, shuddering himself, as he follows her over the edge.

Later, when they finally catch their breath, he rolls to his side and brushes her hair out of her face. She turns her head to look away, feeling suddenly shy. Cheoljong catches the moment and wraps his arms around her, pulling her into him. She rests her head on his chest, just above his heart. Cheoljong knows she’d get cold soon, so he tugs on the covers with one hand, drawing it over her shoulders.

She presses her lips to his chest and strokes his torso with her palms. Despite the horrible things that had led to this moment, Cheoljong has never been happier.

----

Later that night

A soft, feminine sigh jolts Cheoljong awake.

It took him a few seconds to realize that the queen is curled next to him, in an extremely tempting state of undress. Her back is nestled against his chest and his arm is wrapped around her torso.

He didn’t know how late it is, but if the darkness is any indication, he reckons it’s either late in the night or is several hours before daybreak.

While his mind tries to clear the cobwebs of sleep, his lower half is definitely up. Unable to resist, he opens his mouth against So Yong’s warm nape, kissing her throat, the skin behind her ear, her earlobes. His hands take a leisurely path from her sides to her hips, then skims his fingers idly back up again until his thumbs find the undersides of her breasts. He lets his thumb hover over the tips but not quite touching, when she squeezes her legs, Cheoljong rolls the peaks with his thumb, loving the way they pebble at his touch. He smiles wickedly as she moans, realizing that they are now both very very awake.

His other hand slides down her belly, dipping between her legs, finding her very wet; his fingers move between her thighs in slow teasing motions. In. Out. In. Out. When he finds that nub again, So Yong’s head tips back into the crook of his shoulders, and cries out. When she presses her rear against the hard length of him, Cheoljong groans against the back of her neck.

With his right leg, he nudges her knees open, intending to slide into her from behind, with her back pressed against his chest. But an inexplicable need to satisfy her, not just her body, stops him. He dips his head into her nape, and lets his lips trail hot kisses over her neck and down her shoulders before rolling her onto her back, easing her soft, warm body underneath his.

Cheoljong’s fingers brush the hair from her face as he lowers his body onto hers, watching her face as he slides into her inch by inch. So Yong reaches up, wrapping her arms around her so she can pull him closer, until there is nothing between them.

Neither says a word as he thrusts in and out in slow, sure strokes; each thrust feels deeper than the one before, her back arching to meet his body in perfect rhythm.

When she comes apart it is fierce but silent, and when he does seconds later, it is just as intense and just as quiet, as though they both wanted to protect their intimacy from the world outside.

Finally their bodies still, and he rolls to his side, slipping from her. Cheoljong pulls her against him, stroking her bare back. He loves how she feels against him, soft, delicate, perfect. So Yong burrows against him, sighing in pleasure as her face rests on the steady beat of his heart.

“My queen….” Cheoljong whispers before drifting to sleep. He plants a kiss on her forehead.

Sated, she only mutters a “Hmmmm?” against his chest.

Cheoljong stops stroking her back, his arm tightening around her. Stay, he says silently.

Chapter Text

So Yong wakes up before daybreak to find herself curled against Cheoljong. She inhales the familiar scent of him and huddles against his body, nuzzling her face into his chest.

“My queen..” he whispers as he kisses the top of her head. He trails his fingertips up and down her back, loving the feel of her skin beneath them. “I need to go back to Huijeongjeon.” 

“Hmmmm” she says, still not fully awake. Her palms sweep over the hard planes of his chest down to the taut muscles of his abdomen, perhaps absentmindedly, but his breath hitches at her touch.

"My queen.." he admonishes her, but there is a smile in his voice. 

 She shivers a little and Cheoljong draws the covers higher over her exposed shoulders. There is a nip in the air, but the bedding is warm.

“Go back to sleep,” he says softly, taking in the sight of her snuggled to him, and committing it to memory. He doesn’t have a lot of good memories so he stores the image in his heart. 

When So Yong drifts off once more, Cheoljong untangles himself from her and leaves. But not before he plants one last lingering kiss on her temple. 

__

“Your Majesty, we may have a problem with a series of thieveries down south. The noblemen are getting anxious because the thief is targeting nobles specifically.” 

Director Hong, Prince Yeongpyeong and Cheoljong are seated at the table in Seonjeongjeon in the early morning. Hong is giving Cheoljong a rundown of pressing issues, but the king is only half listening; a goofy smile plays on his face. Hong rolls his eyes in exasperation. 

Hong casts a glance at Yeongpyeong, but he only shakes his head. Hong is also baffled at Yeongpyeong’s recent demeanor. He is no longer as spiteful as he used to be. He still regards the whole Kim clan with contempt, but his attitude towards the queen has…. mellowed. He wonders if it’s because they have managed to weaken the Kim clan’s influence, or it’s something else. He keeps his thoughts to himself, relieved that Yeongpyeong has softened his stance on the queen. Hong never hated the queen, a part of him always knew she was maligned unfairly, even as his own judgment has been colored by his loyalty to the king. 

That doesn’t mean he isn’t annoyed with Cheoljong at that very moment though. His distraction is getting on Hong’s nerves. They might have gained the upper hand against their enemies, but he needs Cheoljong to stay focused, not have his head stuck in the clouds like a lovestruck fool. 

Hong gives Cheoljong a pointed look. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, am I wasting your time?” That gets Cheoljong’s attention, and if Hong had to guess, he’d say his admonishment of the king elicited a small grin from the otherwise morose-by-default Yeongpyeong. It was so quick he thought he imagined it. 

“I need you to travel south to monitor the situation.” Cheoljong responds, all manner of tomfoolery disappears from his features. “We need eyes on the ground.”

“Travel? South?” Hong scoffs. He gestures with his hands, pointing at Cheoljong, “You get to sit on your throne...” He then tips his chin towards Yeongpyeong, “And you get to lounge all day.” He presses a hand to his chest. “...while I work my tail off? I didn’t realize I’d be carrying both of you on my back!”

“You insolent piece of -” 

Hong cuts off Yeongpyeong. “Am I wrong? I’ll be sleeping on a cold mountain, travelling, while the two of you lie comfortably in your warm beds! I didn’t sign up for this.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, glaring at Cheoljong and Yeongpyeong.

Cheoljong holds his hands up.“ Just please do this for me, and you can take a few days off.” 

Hong rises to his feet and flashes both Yeongpyeong and Cheoljong a huge smile. “I’ll be back in a day or two.” 

Cheoljong shakes his head, realizing how easily Hong has played him. 

__

“Have you heard…?” The Dowager Queen Jo asks Hwa Jin as soon as she sits down.

Hwa Jin is surprised to see her. She is used to the former queen’s unexpected visits, but she’s never visited the Royal Villa so early in the morning before. 

Hwa Jin is in the middle of painting a picture of the hill by which she and the king used to meet in secret. It has been so long since he met her there; she yearns for the easy banter they once had. These days their conversations are awkward and stilted. The king has grown distant, preoccupied and distracted. It isn’t that he’s curt or dismissive, but he stopped the sweet little things that he used to do for her. The way he looks at her changed too.  Hwa Jin hopes it is just a phase, that the king is simply preoccupied with politics, but as time passes, Hwa Jin cannot help but wonder if the king's feelings have completely changed. When he said he likes the queen, Hwa Jin dismissed it as nothing more than a passing fancy. After all, the king swore to protect her, to be there for her no matter what. “I will marry her, but I am yours in secret.” he once said. 

The Dowager Queen Jo’s honeyed voice interrupts her thoughts.  “Everyone is talking about it.” 

Hwa Jin scrunches up her face, completely unaware of the latest rumors in the palace. “Is there something going on?” 

The dowager queen gives her sly smile. “Oh you poor thing!” she says. “The king spent the night at the queen’s bedchamber.” She leans forward and lowers her voice conspiratorially. “If the servants' stories are to be believed….” She pauses for effect, “they seem to have such a, how do I put this, a passionate night. Apparently, the queen is a.. uhm.. a screamer. ”

Hwa Jin scowls. “He just recovered!” she exclaims not quite believing the story. Surely, the king would not be so careless. They once talked about the nights he spends at the queen’s bedchambers. He assured her that his visits are all for show. “He would never do that.”

The dowager queen purses her lips and gives her a dubious look. “Are you certain? It seems like the king is growing quite fond of the queen.”  

Hwa Jin can feel her temper rising but chose not to reply. The king has in fact told her about his growing feelings for the queen… but she's almost certain he wouldn’t betray her. 

“Surely you still have the king’s favor.” The words are reassuring but the tone is patronizing. The dowager queen is goading her.. She needs Hwa Jin to hold the king’s attention … the king’s affection. It was their clan’s only chance to regain influence. 

Satisfied with the consort’s reaction, the older lady turns her attention to the unfinished painting. She recognizes it; she has paid off enough spies to know that it is the king’s and Hwa Jin’s clandestine meeting place. “That is a beautiful painting.. Is that the hill south of the palace?”

Hwa Jin nods, but her mind is no longer in the conversation. She has also lost interest in finishing the painting. “Yes, it is.”

“Hmmmm… I take it that you still meet him there?  The king seems to be spending more time at Daejojeon, than anywhere else these days..”

She observes the consort's reaction as bitterness sweeps across her face. She recovers quickly, and assumes a calmer demeanor, but her eyes flash with unconcealed anger. Satisfied, the dowager queen gestures at the long wooden case she brought with her. "I know you excel at archery, so I brought you a gift."

Hwa Jin opens it and inspects the arrows, impressed. "Thank you, Your Highness.. These are beautiful." She can think of at least one excellent target.

"Then I will leave you to your painting," the dowager queen says, rising to her feet. 

After she leaves, Hwa Jin picks up the brush once more, attempting to continue painting, but her heart is not on it anymore. Simmering with rage, Hwa Jin slams the paintbrush on the low table. She takes the arrows and decides to go to the archery range. She needs to blow off some steam or she'd be tempted to fire at an actual target.. a very specific target.

__

“Your Highness!” Min Ja-Yeon, one of the concubines, offers a bow to So Yong. Do you want to try too?” 

So Yong and the three concubines, Yoon Gyeong-Ok, Min Ja-Yeon and Hong Sim-Hyang are at the archery range for practice. So Yong shakes her head, archery has never been an interest of hers. Byeong In tried teaching her when they were younger, but she simply doesn’t have the talent for it. She just doesn’t have the arm strength nor the instinct to hit targets. 

“Your Highness, just please give it a try!” Hong Sim-Hyang says, chuckling good-naturedly. “I’m not very good at it either!” 

Quietly, Min Ja-Yeon loads an arrow to one of the bows and takes a proper stance. So Yong and the other two women step back and watch her as she takes an aim…. The arrow misses the center of the target by an inch.

“That’s a good shot.” Someone says flatly from behind them. The four of them turn around to find Hwa Jin with a quiver full of arrows slung across her shoulders. She gives them a perfunctory greeting then walks past them. She starts firing arrows, hitting the target dead center several times. 

So Yong overhears Min Ja-Yeon whispering “show-off” to Yoon Gyeong-Ok. The concubines share a meaningful look and giggle.  It isn’t loud enough for Hwa Jin to hear but she gives them a dirty look just the same.

“I think that is enough for the day.” So Yong tells the concubines, not wanting to get into an argument with Hwa Jin. She, Hwa Jin and sharp arrows do not belong in the same space; there is no need to tempt fate.

Just as they were about to cross the wooden arch leading to the exit, a bow fires. So Yong hears it before she sees it: a terrifying whoosh, almost grazing her right ear. The arrow hits the wooden arch next to her with a sickening thud. 

She hears the three concubines gasp, and for a moment she freezes. She whirls around to see a smug Hwa Jin looking at them. “My apologies,” she says in a honeyed tone. She gestures with her arms. “My hand slipped.” 

So Yong hears Min Ja-Yeon’s indignant retort. “The target is on the opposite side.”   

Furious, So Yong clenches her first under her rouge dangui, but thought it wise not to respond. She knows Hwa Jin is taunting her, trying to get a rise out of her. Instead of retaliating in some form, she gives her a blasé look and walks away, her head held high. 

---- 

So Yong later finds out through Hong Yeon that Byeong In started rounding up members of the Jo clan, including the Minister of Personnel Jo Deok-Moon and Right State Councillor Jo Man-Hong, both suspected to be behind the raids on Kim properties. Cheoljong must have left a damning trail of breadcrumbs that has led to what seems like massive arrests. Now the Jo clan is practically without influence. 

Cheoljong’s bait seems to have worked well… so well in fact that Byeong In has his sights on every single member of the Jo clan, like a personal vendetta. A part of So Yong fears that his promise to arrest those responsible for the scar on her neck has driven him mad. 

She is just about to head to Seonjeongjeon when Lady Choi barges into her bedchamber. “Your Highness! Master Byeong In caught wind of the event at the archery range earlier today.” 

Fearing an ugly confrontation between Cheoljong and Byeong In, So Yong leaps to her feet. “I must go to see His Majesty!" 

When she gets to Seonjeongjeon, she is shocked to find the Royal Consort, Prince Yeongpyeong and Director Hong already discussing Byeong In’s impending arrest of Hwa Jin. Hong and Yeongpyeong are standing next to the dais, both looking grave. Cheoljong has his hands on Hwa Jin’s arm in a tender gesture like he’s trying to assure her. 

So Yong’s eyes flick from Hwa Jin to Cheoljong and down to where Cheoljong’s hand rests on Hwa Jin’s arm. When her eyes come back to his, his surprise turns into embarrassment. 

“My queen!” Cheoljong drops his hand and lurches back. He spins around and moves towards So Yong in quick strides, but as he comes closer, So Yong takes a step back instinctively.  

Cheoljong’s face clouds over when he notices her reaction, but before he can say anything, So Yong hears Hwa Jin speak, her tone caustic and dripping with malice. “I see you came running to the Department of Justice, Your Highness. Did you come here to gloat?” 

“It would bode well for you, Royal Consort, to be prudent with your words… Unless the prospect of hard labor appeals to you.” So Yong shoots back, wondering where she gets  the temerity to accuse her, after firing an arrow at her earlier in the day

Yongpyeong glares at So Yong, “Why you lit--” 

“And you, Prince Yeongyeong, are not to speak out of turn.” So Yong cuts him off, raising her voice over his. She doesn’t even bother to look at him. She is still the queen and she will not be spoken to so irreverently. In a more controlled, but equally superior tone,  she says “You will be asked when your opinion is required.” 

Hwa Jin shoots daggers at her and So Yong glares back, staring her down.  Hwa Jin looks at Cheoljong as if to ask him to reprimand So Yong, but he makes no move, instead he gives So Yong a look that is half apology, half plea. 

Hong is wise enough to stay quiet. 

So Yong glares at Cheoljong; he holds his gaze for a brief second then looks away. They both know his friends are out of line, but it breaks her heart to think that when push comes to shove, he would choose them over her,  just as he did several months ago. The fact that they had spent such a wonderful night together shatters So Yong’s heart.  

But unlike several months ago, So Yong is no longer a fool. Nobody is jumping on the lake today. 

“We should not be arguing at this time,” Hong finally speaks. She finds it ironic that the voice of reason is Hong.  I like this Hong fellow, she thought. She makes a mental note to reward him in some manner later. 

Byeong-In marches into the room, followed by at least a dozen soldiers. He looks murderous. So Yong knows he had been itching for a valid reason to confront Cheoljong, and he just found Cheoljong’s vulnerability - his little concubine. 

 “What brings you here?” Cheoljong asks Byeong-In in a measured voice. He gives Yeongpyeong a look, quietly telling him to keep his cool. 

“I have been made aware that the Royal Consort shot an arrow at Her Highness. I am here to arrest her for treason.” He regards Cheoljong with open hostility. 

Yeongpyeong draws his sword, and Cheoljong again gestures for him to stand down. 

There is something terrifying with the way Cheoljong looks at Byeong In. It is as if he is waiting for an opportunity to finally strike him. But scared isn’t the feeling that is cutting So Yong like a knife. It is something else. Something heartbreakingly difficult for her to admit to. Because seeing how Cheoljong would defend his concubine, at her expense, no matter what the cost, is a stab to her heart. 

Byeong-In then addresses her, his tone changes smoothly from hostile to reverent. “Your Highness, are you alright?”

“I am alright, you have no cause for worry.” She gives him a tremulous smile.

He turns his attention back to Cheoljong, “I will not let anyone harm the Queen.” 

“She told you herself, she is not harmed. So why are you still here?” Cheoljong's voice could cut steel, but Byeong In just gives him a bored look. So Yong wonders if her cousin has a death wish, considering her clan no longer has the same influence as before. 

“According to the concubines, the Royal Consort shot an arrow at the queen, but missed. That is a threat to her life. The Jo clan is involved in a series of robberies on Kim properties. Maybe they are after the Queen too."

“The queen is not harmed and the Royal Consort will never do anything of that kind.” 

At the corner of his eye, Cheoljong sees So Yong's expression darken and her jaw tenses. 

“You seem to be defending the consort everytime she goes to hurt the queen.” Byeong In says brazenly. “First the lake, and then today."

Byeong In’s scathing words hit Cheoljong more than he let on. He steals another glance at So Yong but she looks away the moment their eyes meet.. Hwa Jin tells him earlier that it was an accident… what if it's not?

Byeong In lets out a derisive puff of air and continues. "You keep protecting the Royal Consort at the Queen’s expense. Maybe you are the reason why she jumped onto the lake in the first place.” 

The comment is too real, too true, that it hit Cheoljong straight to the heart. He hears So Yong suck in breath as shame and guilt slices through him. He is faced with an impossible choice. He cannot allow Byeong In to arrest Hwa Jin, but at the same time he knows that every word in this conversation is a dagger to the queen’s heart. 

Cheoljong returns his attention at Byeong In and glowers at him. He never had the patience for him, but this is the first time he genuinely despises Byeong In for overstepping his boundaries. "It is not your place to worry about the queen." 

"Well, it does not seem like your place either.” Byeong In shoots back.

 "Hand me the report on the incident and I will review it. I want to make sure you don't harm any more innocent people"

“The queen has always been the innocent one!” Byeong In retorts, seething. "I will not stand by and watch you hurt her again."

At that Cheoljong steps forward, until he and Byeong In are standing toe-to-toe, sizing each other with open hostility. "Is that a threat?" 

Before the situation can escalate further, So Yong inserts herself between the two men. “Stop it!”  She first glares at Cheoljong to back off, then turns to Byeong-In. “It was an accident. The bow broke.” She makes a mental note to speak with the other concubines later so their stories are consistent. 

Byeong-In looks at her disbelievingly. “Your Highness, are you certain?”

When she doesn't respond right away, he continues. "Your Highness.. first at the courtyard and then today?"

First, the well , So Yong corrects him silently, but she forces a smile to calm him down. She then gently touches her arm to steer him away. “ Orabeoni …” she says, a word she has not used in a while but she knows its full effect on him. “ You always look after me, but I can assure you, today was an accident. We have settled the issue before you came marching into Seonjeongjeon.”

Byeong In gives So Yong a dubious look like he doesn’t quite believe her, so So Yong feigns malaise, pressing her palm to her forehead, then goes to massage her temples. She lets her eyes droop a little. “I think I need some rest now. Please call off your soldiers.” It seems like the quickest way to get him to back down. 

“My queen.. “ At the mention of her need for rest, she hears Cheoljong’s concerned voice, but So Yong ignores him. 

“Your Highness, you don't look well. Please let me escort you back to Daejojeon,” Byeong-In volunteers gallantly. 

Cheoljong is apoplectic, he moves so quickly, putting himself between So Yong and Byeong in. He is surprised by his own reaction, the need to keep Byeong In away from the queen is visceral. The tender smiles the queen gives Byeong In infuriates him inexplicably. “She is not yours to escort. She is my woman .” He says, his voice is low, caustic, and menacing. 

Byeong In just gives him a blasé look. 

“Go. That is a king’s order.” 

When Byeong In doesn't heed Cheoljong's command, So Yong speaks again, beseeching.

“ Orabeoni … please. I am alright,” she assures Byeong In one more time. It does the trick because Byeong In relents, the hard lines of his face soften. With one last antagonistic look at Cheoljong, he leaves with his soldiers. 

So Yong lets out a sigh of relief as soon as the doors close behind Byeong In. Cheoljong steps closer, extending a hand to touch her arm, “My queen - “

So Yong recoils almost immediately. “Don’t touch me.” She says in a sotto voice. She is furious but she doesn’t want Hong, Yeongpyeong and Hwa Jin to hear her. “Please don’t…” she says thickly, quietly, shaking her head, taking a step back away from Cheoljong.  

So Yong takes a breath, as if to compose herself, then fixes Hwa Jin a look. "Don't tempt me again, Royal Consort . I will not be as merciful next time." Her voice is flat, low; the threat itself is loud enough. 

To Hwa Jin's credit, she knows when she's beaten. She meets So Yong icy stare for a brief second then looks away.  

With Hwa Jin so rightfully chastised, So Yong gives Cheoljong another blistering look, taunting him, daring him to rebuke her, but she only sees despair in his eyes. She gives a polite nod to Hong and Yeongpyeong, and whirls around, marching for the door. 

When So Yong is out of earshot, Hong lets out a whistle of relief. “That was close,” he quips, trying to cut the tension. “I’d say that went well… ” But neither Yeongpyeong nor Hwa Jin react.

Cheoljong turns to face Hong and Yeongpyeong, ignoring Hong's attempt at humour. "Leave us. I need to speak with the Consort." 

When they leave, Hwa Jin takes a step towards Cheoljong, but he makes no move to hold her as he usually does. There is a strange look on his face like he's trying to figure out the answer to a difficult question.

"Your Majesty, thank you." Hwa Jin starts, floored that Cheoljong would defend her, that he would still choose her over the queen.

But her joy is short-lived, for there is no tenderness in Cheoljong's face. "Were you at the lake when the queen drowned?" He asks, his tone is mild, but his eyes narrow. 

"Why are you asking me this?" she prevaricates, stepping even closer to Cheoljong. 

"Hwa Jin-ah, be honest with me. Tell me what happened." 

"I was at the lake. We had an argument. She threatened me." 

"Threatened you? With what?" 

Hwa Jin is quiet. She couldn't tell him about the book… or the well. "She told me to leave the palace or I will regret it…" She looks into Cheoljong's eyes beseechingly. "And then I left."

"Were you at the lake when she jumped?" Cheoljong hated Byeong In for getting into his head, but he had to know. He wanted Hwa Jin to tell him she didn't lie.

"Yes." 

"So you left knowing she could drown?"  

Her answering silence—or maybe her expression—gave away an answer that hurt Cheoljong to hear. He steps back and covers his eyes with a hand. 

"You would have done the same at the time." she accused him. 

Cheoljong's skin crawled. He knows Hwa Jin speaks the truth. Not only would he have done the same, apparently, he encouraged others to treat the queen so viciously as well. 

“And today, at the archery range, tell me what happened." They are standing face to face, but his focus is no longer on her; his eyes glaze, his mind elsewhere… drowning in the lake. 

"I found out you spent the night with her… I was angry. I fired the arrow, but changed my mind at the last minute, so I hit the wall." She says defiantly, furiously.

It is as if her revelation robs Cheoljong of all his strength. He retreats until the back of his leg hits the dais. He lowers himself slowly on the edge. “You could have hurt her.”  

“I was frustrated!” she explodes. 

When he speaks again, he sounds so far away. "When I met you two years ago, I liked you. I really did. When I asked you to move to the palace and be the Royal Consort, I wanted to call you my wife… but -"

"Your Majesty!" Hwa Jin protests indignantly. She's afraid of what Cheoljong might say, and she breaks apart. 

"I'm not supposed to feel anything for the queen. I don't have the right but…" he says haltingly, as if the words hurt him physically. He rises to his feet and moves closer to Hwa Jin. He looks her in the eye, not unkindly, but with regret. Gently, he adds, "I promised you I would protect you, I would. I will honor that promise, but… " he draws a long breath before continuing, "But if you hurt the queen deliberately again.. there isn't much I can do for you."

At that, he takes a step back, his heart hammering in his chest. He casts one last remorseful glance at Hwa Jin and walks away. He has something more urgent to worry about, more pressing things to do, like getting his queen back.

Chapter Text

Cheoljong has been to Daejojeon, the pavilion, the garden, the library, even the royal kitchen… he went to every single one of these places but the queen is nowhere to be found. Chills dance over his skin as he realizes he just might lose her. Again.

Byeong In's words keep playing non-stop in his head. You protect the Royal Consort at the Queen’s expense.

Cheoljong clenches his teeth harder. The queen is brave, but not unbreakable. He’d hurt her. Again. How could she not be hurt? He’s despicable. At that moment Cheoljong hated himself more than anything he’s ever hated in his life. In frustration, he shuts his eyes so hard he sees specks of light. 

When his eyes open again, he isn’t even embarrassed to find they were slightly damp. “I need to find the queen,” he says roughly. 

“Her Highness should be in the palace somewhere. It is almost dark, she will be back soon” Yeongpyeong replies reassuringly.  Ironically, it is Yeongpyeong who is helping him find the queen. They just left the pavilion and are on their way back to Daejojeon in the hopes that she’s back, wherever she went. 

“Go to Daejoeon and check. I think I might know where she is.” There is a question in Yeongpyeong’s face but he doesn’t bother to explain. Cheoljong goes on his way, desperate to find her. 

The sooner he finds her, the better. Emotions are like wounds, if not tended to immediately, properly, they fester. 

---

Cheoljong sees So Yong from afar; she’s still in the same green dangui from earlier. She’s standing at the edge of the lake, her back to him. In the distance, she looks so lonely; he crumbles inside at the sight.

He is so hell-bent on finding her, mentally listing down everything he needs to say, but he didn’t actually think about how to tell her. He is off kilter and out of his element, and his heart thunders in his chest as he crosses the distance between them. 

He quietly signals the servants to give them privacy. 

"My queen," he says softly when he's close enough, her back still to him. 

She turns her head briefly, but otherwise, she ignores him.

"Are you feeling better?"

"It is not your concern." It isn’t a spiteful comment, it is kind, reassuring, almost. But she turns her attention back to the lake, ignoring him completely. An icy breeze nips at her face, her beige chima billows softly, as she stares into the late afternoon sky reflected in the water. Streaks of gray, orange and purple appear on the horizon.

He steps closer until he's right  behind her, and lifts a hand to cup her elbow. "Please look at me." 

Cheoljong is surprised when she turns around immediately, facing him. 

"My queen, I made Hwa Jin a promise that I would protect her…" he begins. 

"And you keep your promises," she supplies for him. So Yong tries to swallow, but something knots in her throat.

Cheoljong nods. 

"And the promise you gave me, right here by the lake in fact... was that, I'll be a queen in name only, powerless with no heir…. I suppose last night was a mistake." Sorrow seeps into her voice, bleeding from old wounds that never truly healed - wounds that festered over time. Wounds, Cheoljong realized, he'd inflicted upon her. 

“No!” The heaviness of So Yong’s statement socks him in the chest. Which is probably the desired effect. He feels guilty. Out of his depth. Ashamed of his own behavior. Cheoljong’s face contorts in anguish. "No, it was not," he says again. “At least, not to me.”

He takes So Yong's hand, then sinks to his knees before her.      

“Your Majesty! What—what are you doing?” she gasps, horrified to see Cheoljong in such a subjugated stance. “Please don’t—”      

“My Queen” He rasps, addressing her with the same worship given to celestial deities: his head bowed and his eyes closed in supplication.     

Air leaves So Yong's lungs in confusion ... in comprehension . She sways unsteadily on her feet, staring disbelievingly at Cheoljong, her hand still clutched tightly in his.      

“Please get up,” she says quietly, her chest heaving. Her tone is gentle but firm.   

Cheoljong releases what seems like  a choked sob.  “My Queen —”            

“Get up, Your Majesty.” Something in So Yong fractures. She has never seen Cheoljong look so…unassured, vulnerable, almost fearful. It hurts her to see him on his knees; she has endured so much just so he stops kneeling before anyone.

“I can’t.”   Cheoljong stays resolute in his course. “I hurt you. So many times. Allow me this. Allow me to apologize, at least. Today, I.. I.. you could have been hurt. I put you in that position, and failed to protect you.. And to listen to you later."

“You cannot control -” So Yong begins, but he shakes his head, so she stops. So Yong realizes that Cheoljong needed to get things off his chest… to exorcise some of his demons, so she stays quiet.

“That night I nicked your neck.. It was an accident. But if you put up a fight, I would have hurt you…I know I would have.” He sputters, as if his own words hurt him. “That day when your father came to visit months ago, it was your mother’s memorial, I deliberately asked your tutors to double your lessons.”

When So Yong doesn’t speak, Cheoljong continues. He wanted to tell her everything, aching to be honest.. so he can beg her forgiveness once and for all. 

“That night at the lake…. I wanted to hurt you…”  

“Why…?” she asks as her own voice breaks at the painful memory. 

“I wanted to see what would break you... That did. I didn't realize until later that it broke me too.” He sounded so broken still.  

He looks up to meet her eyes; his are wet with unshed tears. He lets out a shaky breath, and then straightens. So Yong tenses, because he has this look like he is steeling himself, like he is about to say something that wounds him physically. 

“When you begged the Dowager Queen for mercy that afternoon at the courtyard... for me and for the royal consort, I… I should have known. I should have known your heart. You would never treat others so maliciously... I was so blind.”

So Yong doesn’t respond. It was a lot to take. 

“That rainy afternoon when we first met… If I could go back in time, I’d choose that, when it didn’t matter that we are king and queen... Nothing I do, nothing I say will ever undo anything I’ve done.. But I am sorry just the same.”

So Yong falls to her knees so they are at eye level. “You hurt me,” she says simply, her own eyes filling with tears.

Cheoljong grips her hands so hard, So Yong can feel his despair. “I know.. I know and I’m so sorry." 

He looks at So Yong with a combination of remorse and longing that her heart squeezes. She believes him. There is enough sorrow in his voice and shame in his body to not believe him. But neither his sorrow nor his shame take her pain away.

"I do not wish to hurt you anymore.” 

“What is it that you wish for then?”

“You.” 

“Then please rise, Your Majesty. I don’t like seeing you on your knees.” She says with a tight smile, her vision still blurry from her own tears. She attempts to stand, tugging him by the elbow.

When they both rise, he reaches over and gently holds her wrists, then he jerks her against him, wrapping her tightly in his arms.  “All I wish for, is you. I want no one else. I want nothing else.”

So Yong’s eyes sting with tears as he speaks the words she'd only ever dreamed of hearing.  She lifts a hand to wipe away a rogue tear that rolls down his cheek. “Please don’t say that, Your Majesty…. I… am leaving soon. None of this matters anymore”

Cheoljong’s heart breaks. “No. You can’t…. You can’t go. I can’t do this without you.” 

So Yong doesn’t reply; she doesn’t trust her own voice. Seeing Cheoljong so broken is weakening her resolve.

“All that risk was worth it because of you. And I would go through it again, so long as you’re the queen… you’re my queen.”

“Risk? What risk…?” 

“I don’t want your clan threatening you anymore, I don’t want you risking your life for those ledgers - “ His words are awkward and halting.

Something in So Yong’s mind clicks. “The explosion.. it was by design. It was your plan all along! That is why you were so evasive about the banquet….”

“I cannot stand the thought of your clan hurting you....” He falters, realizing the irony of his words. It wasn’t her clan who hurt her the most. It was he.  

“Why would you put yourself through something like that?” she cries out, her voice reedy. She hits him on the chest with her fist. “Do you know what I went through?” She hit him again.. and again, but her fists don’t hurt Cheoljong, her tears do. 

“Forgive me, my queen. I didn’t want you to worry.” Fat tears trail down her cheeks, and every one of her sniffles is a blade to his heart. He cannot seem to get things right, even when he’s trying to protect her, he’s hurting her. 

“What do you think I did while you were lying in your sickbed?” 

He wraps his arms around her burying his nose into her hair, breathing her in as his heart stutters out of rhythm.  “Forgive me, please,” he implores. “I couldn't tell you, I was afraid they’d come after you if my plans go awry.”

“You still don’t trust me.” 

The accusation cuts him like a sharp dagger.  “I do, my queen, I do.” he replies helplessly.

“You should have told me!” she says with a sob. 

She stops hitting him, but she started twisting and squirming in an endeavor to free herself from his embrace, but he held her tighter.  “I should have told you a lot of things,” he admits  

When she stops squirming, Cheoljong pulls back, bracing himself for her anger. But what he sees in her face hurts him all the more - there is no anger, no hurt, no sorrow; in fact there is nothing; her eyes are just…. dead, like the fire inside her has been finally doused. 

 “Your words don’t mean much anymore" she says quietly. "This is why I cannot stay. Not for you.” There is a note of serene finality in her words. She pries his hands from her arm then spins around and walks away. 

At that moment, Cheoljong realized that it is quiet when the heart breaks. He thought it’d be loud, like thunder, drowning everything else out, but a heartbreak is like a whisper. A quick, quiet, clean split, like a sharp sword slicing flesh. You only ever feel the wound, if you live long enough to survive it.

---

So Yong has not seen Cheoljong for a few days and she is beginning to wonder if she had been too harsh on him. On the third night, she wonders if she should check in on him. She started thinking of ways to run into him, accidentally on purpose, but thought the better of it. "Maybe it's for the best," she says, for what seems like the hundredth time since their conversation at the lake. 

That leads her to think about her next steps, now that Cheoljong is, in every sense of the word, the king, perhaps it is time to go. The Jo clan is no longer a threat, and Cheoljong managed to weaken her clan's influence considerably. He replaced the ministers from the Jo clan with people of his choosing, so he can shore up enough support, should he need it. 

And then she thinks about her father, and the thought of leaving him makes her heart ache. She vows to speak to Cheoljong to guarantee her father's safety. 

Her thoughts drift back to her clan. They have been unusually quiet since the blast. It unsettles her. They may have lost, but they're certainly not gone. Between the grand dowager queen running the Internal Court and a few members of the Kim clan remaining as ministers, So Yong knows it is only a matter of time before they strike again.  Their silence is the calm before a storm. Surely, he is prepared for that...right? 

She makes plans to see him soon, to warn him… not because she misses his company. No. Absolutely not. She presses a hand to her heart, as if to convince herself. "Strictly business," she murmurs.

 And then she wonders... Should she write him a letter first, or should she just go barging in, like she did the last few months? She groans, wondering why she suddenly feels so awkward, so nervous.

All I wish for, is you. I want no one else. I want nothing else.

The memory of Cheoljong confessing his feelings comes unbidden into her mind. She wonders how deep those feelings are. Maybe it’s borne out of responsibility, a duty… or maybe it’s nothing but residual feelings from their night together. 

Their night together. Her body comes alive just by thinking about his touch, the weight of his body on hers, his tongue on… She shakes off her thoughts, furiously chastising herself.  She cannot afford to think about such things.

She is just about to turn in when she hears Lady Choi announce Cheoljong. Her spine tingles and the butterflies in her stomach are back.

She is astonished to see him in her private chamber so late in the night. She is even more surprised to see him in a gray nobleman's attire, not in his regal crimson robes, nor in his glorious white and gold finery. 

As always, Cheoljong moved with an air of imperious grace. She cannot help it, she moves too, meeting him at the center of the chamber. 

“Your Majesty, what brings you here, so late in the night?” She hated that her heart sings at the sight of him. Absolutely hated how breathless her voice sounds.

There is an intensity to his gaze as though he’d missed her during the last three days, but it quickly dissolves into a tiny smile. “I thought you might be up for an adventure.”

“An adventure?” So Yong repeats incredulously, returning his smile.

Cheoljong nods. “I’m going to Hong’s. It is where I go at night… It is where I go when I don't spend the night here .” He gestures awkwardly around the room.

She catches the meaning behind his words: he doesn't spend as much time in the Royal Villa as she thinks. The thought makes her inexplicably giddy.

Before she can react, Cheoljong speaks again. "Yeongpyeong, Hong and I meet there… to discuss things. I would like you to come with me tonight."

So Yong appreciates the gesture; it is an olive branch. Perhaps it is Cheoljong’s way of showing her that he trusts her, showing her a part of the world he had kept hidden from her for so long. 

“Alright,” she says…. but then she realizes she doesn’t have the appropriate clothes. “But -”

Cheoljong hands her something. “Your disguise,” he says. Before So Yong realizes it, she is giving him a wide smile, to which he reciprocates with a bright smile of his own, as if a great weight is lifted from his shoulders.

A few minutes later, So Yong managed to change into a nobleman’s clothes, but it cannot be Cheoljong’s. It’s too small for him, but it fits her perfectly. “Where did you get this?” she asks, staring at herself in the mirror. The clothes were made of the finest silk. 

“I had it made for you.” he replies, eyeing her, surreptitiously admiring the soft curves of her body that no nobleman’s clothes can hide. The shape of her body is burned in his brain. 

“How? When?” she asks, spinning around. 

“I am king,” he replies haughtily. Like that explains everything. Well, it does. “I didn’t want you wearing another man’s clothes,” he adds simply.

So Yong rolls her eyes. "So the first gift you ever give me is a nobleman's clothing?" she says wrinkling her nose. 

Realization hits Cheoljong.. he never gifted her anything. Embarrassed, his cheeks turn crimson. 

So Yong notices it. She laughs good-naturedly. "I was just teasing you, Your Majesty. You seem so easy to bait."

Slowly, he narrows the distance between them.  "Ask me anything." he says in earnest. He lifts a hand, as if to touch her face, but drops it at the last minute.

He looks so guilty that she feels sorry for him. Against her better judgement, So Yong steps closer. She wraps her arm around his waist, and tucks her head into the crook of his neck. "Just you." she says softly, brazenly. Her heart will pay for it later… but at that moment, she just wants to pretend that her days in the palace aren’t numbered.

Cheoljong is surprised by her sudden affection but he embraces her back almost instantly. He pulls her closer, inhaling her familiar floral scent. He missed her after all. "I'm yours," he replies simply. 

She sighs contentedly in reply.

Cheoljong closes his eyes, reveling in the small, quiet moment, of having the queen back in his arms.  There is nothing else he wants in life. They stay like that for a good long while, until he hears her speak. "We should go."

"Yes" he says but neither of them move. His voice is thick and husky, and she could swear that he, just like she is, is having a difficult time letting go. “In a moment.”   

 “Alright,” she replies, hating how the tone of his voice sends a shiver down her spine

---

“Do you know how to play this, Your Highness?” Director Hong asks So Yong while holding a tujeon deck in his hand. The three of them are at Hong’s, seated around a low table. The relentlessly dour Prince Yeongpyeong sits alone at a table in one of the corners of the room. 

“Not well.” 

Hong chuckles. “Let me show you how,” he says excitedly. 

Cheoljong observes Hong and So Yong with a smile, relieved to see her getting along with Hong. She looks particularly adorable in a nobleman’s attire, and he can’t take his eyes off her. So Yong gives him a sideways glance, catching him staring at her. Instead of getting embarrassed, he gives her what he assumes to be a sultry smile. She blushes almost immediately and looks away. Cheoljong smiles wider, completely amazed at the effect he has on her. 

Hong rolls his eyes. It’s bad enough to deal with a lovestruck Cheoljong, it’s even worse to deal with a lovestruck Cheoljong sitting next to the queen. “Are we playing tujeon or not?”

Embarrassed, Cheoljong asks Hong about his visit to the south. “What did you find out about the thief?”

Hong is relieved to talk about something else, but before he can, the queen interrupts him. 

“Thief? What thief?”

Hong looks at Cheoljong who in turn nods, as if to tell him that it’s alright to talk about such things around the queen. “There is a bandit down south who steals from noblemen and then distributes his loot to people…”

“So he’s a hero?” 

“No, no. Not a hero.. A thief.” Hong corrects So Yong almost immediately.

“How is that not a hero? Surely, the nobles can stand to lose some of their things…” 

“Correct, but the thief undermines the nobles, undermines the authority of the king.”

So Yong wrinkles her nose and looks derisively at Cheoljong. “So you are annoyed because your ego is bruised?” 

Hong chuckles. “It’s not that simple, Your Highness. We think the thief is not working on his own. He is empowered by your clan.” He looks slightly embarrassed, but it is too late to take his words back. He looks at Cheoljong, but he simply shrugs. The queen does not seem to take offense either.

“My clan? How?” 

“It would appear as if people result to stealing because the king is incompetent, at the same time, the nobles are scared because they are sitting targets.  Now that your clan has lost so much power, they have everything to gain from unsettling nobles. They will benefit from a power struggle.” 

So Yong nods in understanding. “It will be easier to select a new king.” 

“That’s correct. So this bandit, we did everything we could to catch him but he escapes every time. He’s very slick. My guess is that someone in power is helping him.”

“Did you ask Byeong In’s help? He’s brilliant.” So Yong blurts out.

“There is no need for that.” Cheoljong interrupts, annoyed. “He is too busy with his responsibilities here.”

So Yong rolls her eyes. “Isn’t that part of his role?” she retorts.  

“Ah yes, but remember.. He is still, uhm, uhm…” Hong stammers, unsure how to tell So Yong that Byeong In cannot be trusted for such things. 

“He is still a Kim,” So Yong finishes for him, unfazed by the insinuation. Byeong In is loyal to Kim Jwan Geun and the Grand Dowager Queen, so the assumption is logical. “So this thief, he steals from noblemen and distributes his loot to people?”

Hong nods. “That is correct. He is starting to become a legend in some parts.”

“So if you cannot catch him, why don’t you question the people who benefit from his thievery. Chances are, they know who he is. In fact, I suggest you entrap him.”

That gets Cheoljong’s attention. “What do you mean?” 

“Off the top of my head, mint new coins or gold… anything you can mark, and use it as bait. It would then be easier for you to trace what he steals, and question anyone who has it. Pass a law that anyone caught with the stolen goods will be punished just as severely as the bandit. You can offer a reward to anyone who can provide useful information about him… or her.”

“Oh we tried offering a reward, but nobody came forward.” Cheoljong says.

“That’s because you’re not offering the right reward.. or shall I say, the right incentive.” 

Cheoljong steeples his fingers and waits for So Yong to continue.

Hong’s brows knit; he leans towards So Yong. “How so?” 

“Everyone has a price. You can either give someone everything he's only ever wished for, or you exploit his biggest fear. Start questioning the bandit’s beneficiaries.. If they don’t cooperate, you either bribe them or punish them. Severely, I might add.”

“That is actually a good idea.” Cheoljong says. He marvels yet again at how easy it is for her to come up with devious ideas. He wonders whether he loves how much he fears her, or he fears how much he loves her. 

“You are a wise queen, Your Highness.”  Hong says and means it, admiration written all over his face. 

So Yong rolls her eyes. 

They are interrupted by somebody pushing the door open. “Director Hong!” comes a raucous voice. When So Yong turns around to check who it is, she sees an inebriated Kim Hwan, swaying slightly at his feet. 

Kim Hwan’s eyes widen in surprise when he sees So Yong. He sidles up to her, inspecting her face, then her clothes.  “Your Highness?! It is you!” he exclaims excitedly, not quite believing his eyes.“What are you doing here?!” 

So Yong laughs. “Kim Hwan-ah!” 

“How do you know Director Hong?” 

“Ah.. I -” So Yong cannot think of an excuse. 

Hong interrupts smoothly. “The king asked me to keep Her Highness company. Prince Yeongpyeong is here to protect her.” 

“Ah yes. It must be stifling in the palace.” The ever-so-clueless Kim Hwan replies. “You must be quite lonely, Your Highness. The king must be too busy to take care of you.”

Hong guffaws. So Yong snickers. Yeongpyong smirks, but again, it is too quick that none of them notices it. Cheoljong is not amused, his expression darkens. Not that Kim Hwan cared.

“What makes you think the king is too busy to take care of the queen?”  Cheoljong stands up and walks towards Kim Hwan. He comes to a stop directly in front of Kim Hwan, deliberately using his size to intimidate So Yong's gangly cousin. 

“Your Highness, tell him!” he says, looking at So Yong. “Tell him how the king can be so… so....uncaring of you.” At that, Kim Hwan glares at Cheoljong. “By the way, who are you? I’ve never seen you here before.”

Cheoljong is annoyed that Kim Hwan does not recognize him, but he's even more irked by the insinuation that he doesn’t care about the queen. Unfortunately for him, he cannot tell Kim Hwan who he is. 

“This is Jong Cheol,” So Yong says, pointing at Cheoljong. “Hong’s cousin. He’s here for a visit.” 

“Who?!” Cheoljong's head whips around in annoyance. He gives So Yong a questioning stare.

So Yong puts an arm around his shoulder and gives him a funny look. “If you’re not Jong Cheol, who are you?”

Cheoljong narrows his eyes at So Yong, but then he realizes it's as good an identity as any. He turns his attention back to Kim Hwan and beams. “I’m Jong Cheol, Hong’s cousin,” he says, turning on his charm. 

Kim Hwan narrows his eyes at Cheoljong then casts a glance at Hong. He seems to be checking whether there is a resemblance between the two. 

“He is taller, I’m better looking, but we look alike.” Hong says, waggling his brows.

So Yong chuckles. “I see the resemblance. Do you play tujeon with Director Hong, cousin?” 

“Almost exclusively,” Kim Hwan responds proudly.

Later, all four of them are playing tujeon. Cheoljong is showing So Yong how to play the cards when Kim Hwan asks, “Your Highness, does the king know you’re here?”

Cheoljong looks at So Yong with a smug smile, waiting for her answer. 

“He’s probably sleeping by now,” So Yong replies non-comittantly. 

Hong snickers.

“He doesn’t seem to care very much about you.” Kim Hwan replies. A drunken man is a brave man. Reckless and silly, but fearless nonetheless.

“I bet he cares about the queen very much.” Cheoljong says, his tone is light, but there is an edge to it.

Kim Hwan makes a face. “And yet, this isn’t the first time the queen is out at night without him knowing.” 

Hong is watching Kim Hwan, Cheoljong and So Yong, immensely entertained. He leans forward, following the conversation closely. He rests his elbow on his knee, his chin on his hand… an amused expression colors his features.

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” So Yong says. She can feel Cheoljong tense beside her.

“I didn’t say he is a bad king.. I actually like him. I don’t know why our clan is so hard on him, but from what I can tell he is a good person.”

Cheoljong visibly relaxes.

“What makes you think that?” Hong asks.

“He is your friend, and you are a good person, so he must be a good person too.”  Kim Hwan, bless his heart, is trusting, to a fault. 

Cheoljong realizes that not all Kims are despicable. First, he has a lovely queen, and second this Kim Hwan character is tolerable. He’s honest as the day is long, has genuine affection for his queen, talks twice as much as necessary, has no time for pomposity, and clearly has no appetite for the diabolic. 

So Yong thought her cousin is finished talking. It makes her anxious; an inebriated Kim Hwan is a loquacious Kim Hwan, and she is right. He continues talking. 

“He must be a good king, but he should take better care of you, Your Highness.” he says.

“What makes you think the king does not take care of the queen?” Hong asks. The conversation is amusing to him. 

“He is very fond of the royal consort - “

“Kim Hwan-ah, enough.” So Yong says in a cold clipped tone. Kim Hwan ignores her.

“Besides, Byeong In said, you would not have jumped onto the lake if the king took better care of you - “ 

“Kim Hwan-ah!” So Yong rebukes her cousin softly. “That’s enough. Please.” She can feel the tension in the room, but Kim Hwan is completely oblivious to it. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Cheoljong tense again, looking like a tightly coiled spring about to snap. 

“You and the queen must have been close when you were young!” Hong interrupts, trying to redirect the conversation. 

“Yes we are. We grew up together. Her Highness, Byeong In and me.”  

Both Cheoljong and So Yong relax, relieved at the change of subject.

“I hear the queen is mischievous as a child.” Cheoljong says, teasing So Yong, who shakes her head, grinning. 

Kim Hwan looks at Cheoljong; he seems more than happy to regale them with stories about the queen. “She is quite wicked in some ways, but she is kind. Fierce. Brave. Capable beyond measure.” 

“Is that so?” Hong says, humoring Kim Hwan.  “Why don’t you tell us more about her?”

So Yong is embarrassed that they are talking about her…. “Yaaaa. Let’s just play tujeon!”

But Kim Hwan is too inebriated to listen to So Yong. “Her Highness has always been a good person .. even when we were children. She once defied her father to help a boy she didn’t even know. She was punished severely of course. 

Cheoljong goes very still, a chill runs up his spine. “What boy?” 

“Kim Hwan-ah, that is enough.” So Yong's heart is hammering in her chest. He tugs at Kim Hwan’s arm, begging him silently, desperately, to stop talking. 

But the floodgates are about to open. Hong stops looking at his cards, his jaw clenched. Yeongpyeong rises from his seat, his full attention on Kim Hwan. 

“What?” Kim  Hwan glares at So Yong and untangles his arm from her grip, completely unaware of the tension in the room. It is that millisecond a single raindrop balances itself at the tip of a sword. 

He looks at Cheoljong arrogantly, slurring his words, “She saved some boy from a well.. He didn’t even thank her.” 

Kim Hwan makes a tsk tsk sound, then shakes his head for good measure. “But the boy just disappeared. He even took her mother’s book....” He pauses for a moment trying to think of the book’s title, still utterly oblivious of the storm he unleashed unto the world.  “Do.. Do..Dong..” 

“Dongmongseonseup.” So Yong finishes softly for him. 

Chapter Text

Hwa Jin is restless. She’s been pacing her chamber for a while now, thinking about her last conversation with the king. Something isn’t right… in fact, something wasn’t right for a while now. Everything has changed since that night the king promised to consummate their union but didn’t. Ultimately, he sent word that Hong discovered information that would lead them to the ledgers. He chose to act on the information, rather than keep his word of spending the night with her. She resented it, she was enraged by it, but she tried rationalizing the situation. The sooner the king finds those ledgers, the sooner he gets rid of the sanctimonious queen. 

But if she’s being truly honest, she felt the king growing distant after that afternoon in the courtyard when the she-devil of a queen intervened. It was such a well-executed ruse, if Hwa Jin dares to say so herself. The queen throwing herself in harm’s way to protect the king, is a sublime gambit to ingratiate herself to him. 

She opens a drawer and rummages through her things. She notices dried flowers that have been preserved beautifully. The king picked those flowers for her the last time they met at the hill, their clandestine meeting place. She remembers that day as if it was yesterday - it was spring, the flowers bloomed and the air was fragrant from the wild fresh blossoms.  Under the cool canopy of an old verdant tree, he told her of his plans to marry her childhood nemesis, but promised his heart to her. “I will marry her, but I am yours in secret,” he said. She takes the dried forlorn flowers and holds them delicately in her hands,  as a terrifying thought occurs to her. What if the king’s fondness for her is like the desiccated flowers? Once vibrant and exquisite, they are now brittle and shrivelled. She shakes off the thought and puts the flowers back inside the drawer. She slams the drawer shut in frustration. 

The king’s words play unbidden in her mind. If you hurt the queen deliberately again.. there isn't much I can do for you. His tone was even, probably kind, but Hwa Jin recognized the subtle warning. Bitterness seeps through her veins as she wonders what poisonous words the wench queen whispers in his ears. It has to be the only reason; why else would the king listen to that self-serving, scheming strumpet? The queen, just like her whole clan, is diabolic, and it pains Hwa Jin, it infuriates her to see him play into the hands of his sworn enemies.  

Another thought flashes across her mind: the king asking her about the well. A chill runs up her spine. He knows nothing, she tells herself, but her instinct telling her otherwise, is an insistent, insidious whir in her ears.  

There is a slight chill in the air, and the lamps flicker, so she calls on a servant to bring in a brazier, but she changes her mind at the last second. She decides to go to Huijeongjeon and confront the king instead. What if he knew all this time? The thought petrifies her. 

The servants fail to hide their surprise when they see her at such a late hour. A eunuch blocks her path when she approaches the doors to the king’s chambers.

“I need to see the king,” she declares tightly; her voice sounds almost strident in the quiet of the night. She waits for the servants to open the sliding doors for her, but none of them move. 

“Your.. Your Highness…” a eunuch stammers. 

Hwa Jin glowers at the eunuch. He bows his head in apology but makes no move to usher her in. Annoyed, she moves past him and opens the doors herself.

The eunuch follows her awkwardly, but her attention is no longer on him. She ploughs through the room and heads straight for the inner chamber. There is, however, no sign of the king.

“His Majesty is not… His Majesty is not here,” the eunuch sputters. 

“Where is His Majesty?” she demands, even as her gut already knows with absolute certainty where the king would be. She braces herself for the eunuch’s reply.

“His Majesty left earlier to see Her Highness, the queen.” the eunuch replies matter-of-factly, as if such occurrence is as normal as the setting sun.

All the bitterness, jealousy, and despair in the consort’s heart ignite into a white-hot ball of rage, scorching enough to burn Daejojeon to ashes. 

-----

Meanwhile at Hong’s Residence… 

Cheoljong observes the easy camaraderie between So Yong and Kim Hwan. A part of him is jealous; he lost his own family young, so his childhood is completely different from So Yong's. He didn't have the luxury of cousins and childhood friends. 

A thought stabs at his heart - the queen must have felt so alone in the palace. She was always surrounded by people who cared for her: a doting father and Kim Hwan. Even the overbearing Byeong In seems to genuinely look after her, he thought begrudgingly. It must have been quite an adjustment to move to the palace - and he made it all the more difficult. It's no wonder she jumped onto the lake. 

“I didn’t say he is a bad king.. I actually like him. I don’t know why our clan is so hard on him, but from what I can tell he is a good person.”

Cheoljong is lost in his own murky thoughts that he almost misses Kim Hwan’s assertion. There is a naiveté to the queen’s inebriated cousin that he finds amusing. He steals a glance at So Yong once more; she seems uneasy, but a smile plays at her lips. He tunes out the conversation one more time. He is drawn to the heat creeping up So Yong’s cheeks as Kim Hwan seems adept at embarrassing her. He remembers a few other places in her body that easily turn… pink. He’d love to make those few sensitive areas in her body blush again - 

“He is very fond of the royal consort - “ 

Cheoljong snaps into attention at the mention of the royal consort.  He sees So Yong’s smile dissolve into a frown. He makes a mental note to reassure her that his feelings for the consort are a thing of the past.   

“Kim Hwan-ah, enough,” So Yong chides her cousin, but her gentle rebuke falls on deaf ears. Kim Hwan continues to prattle on about their adventures growing up. It occurs to Cheoljong just how nice it would have been if he met a young, precocious So Yong. He is almost too sure he would have liked her even then.

“Besides, Byeong In said, you would not have jumped onto the lake if the king took better care of you - “ 

Kim Hwan’s comments are completely innocuous, borne out of love and loyalty for his cousin, but to Cheoljong’s ears, they might as well have been laced with venom. As shame engulfs him, Cheoljong notices So Yong stiffening, casting her cousin a dirty look, trying desperately to stop him from rambling. 

Cheoljong meets Hong’s eyes for a split second, as if to ask for some type of intervention. To his relief, Hong interrupts Kim Hwan and attempts to diffuse the tension by redirecting the conversation. So Yong relaxes a little, but Cheoljong notices her fidgeting once more, tugging at an invisible thread on her trousers. It is one of the many things he learned about her - she pulls at her clothes when she’s anxious. He longs to reach out and take her hand, to reassure her… to reassure himself, but that would ruin the ruse. 

“I hear the queen is mischievous as a child,” he says instead, trying to tease her, put her at ease. Surely, her childhood would be a safer topic, if Kim Mun Geun’s stories about his daughter are to be believed. 

Kim Hwan’s face lights up at the question.  “She is quite wicked in some ways, but she is kind. Fierce. Brave. Capable beyond measure,” he replies, beaming with pride. A smile pulls at So Yong’s lips and tugs at Cheoljong’s heart.

He is just about to ask another question but Kim Hwan’s next words chills him to the bone.  “Her Highness has always been a good person .. even when we were children. She defied her father to help a boy she didn’t even know. She was punished severely, of course. ”

A shiver runs up Cheoljong’s spine and his heart seizes. He reckons it is the feeling you get the second before you fall off an abyss. “What boy?”

“She saved some boy from a well.. He didn’t even thank her.” Kim Hwan says almost dismissively, completely unaware of the turmoil raging inside Cheoljong.

“ Tsk. tsk. ” He continues, shaking his head, seemingly amused by his own story.

For one tormented moment, none of them move. None of them say anything. It was as if everything except Kim Hwa is suspended in time, rendered immobile by the tempest Kim Hwan just unleashed unto the world.

“But the boy just disappeared. He even took her mother’s book. Do.. Do..Dong..” Kim Hwan mutters, gazing up the ceiling, trying to recall the name of the book. 

In his periphery, Cheoljong notices So Yong straighten, taking a long breath as if to steel herself. His heart pounding, he turns his head to look at her directly. With an inscrutable expression, her eyes clear and unblinking, So Yong meets Cheoljong’s gaze. 

“Dongmongseonseupup,” she finishes for Kim Hwan. 

Cheoljong goes quiet inside. He is filled with a tense, empty stillness, the kind that wouldn’t let him think about anything other than his long list of transgressions, deliberate or otherwise. The emotions that had claimed him, ever since he realized how wrong he is about her, are brought to the fore once more. They spread like a cold mist over a dark winter night. The feelings that keep threatening his sanity: guilt, shame, yearning, regret, intensify like a storm, picking up speed and gathering force.

Yeongpyeong is too stunned to speak. Tall and imposing as he usually is, looks small and shrivelled as he retreats to the table at the corner of the room. Director Hong, who doesn't know the whole story of the well has suddenly put things together. For the first time, he looks completely bewildered - his mouth agape and eyes wide open.

But an oblivious Kim Hwan continues to blather on about a thousand different things. “...but yes, he seems like a kind king.” None of them catch the preceding statement, just that the king is kind. They are all caught up in the solitude of their own thoughts. “Her Highness would not care as much if he isn’t.”

Cheoljong’s shame burns hotter. He doesn’t deserve the praise, especially one that comes from Kim Hwan. He spent most of his life despising his whole clan. He wanted to see them suffer. Wanted them dead. And yet —by some brutal twist of fate— the one member of the clan who suffered in his hands turns out to be the girl who saved him from the well.

“The queen and I are leaving,” Cheoljong declares unthinkingly, rising to his feet. 

So Yong looks up from her sitting position, looking surprised but otherwise, doesn’t say anything. Hong steals a glance at Kim Hwan, who gets up just as quickly, albeit, swaying just a little. 

“Why would Her Highness leave with you?” Kim Hwan protests, getting into Cheoljong’s face. “Who are you? You’re not even from here.” Kim Hwan scoffs, but his words are a little difficult to understand as he keeps slurring them. 

Cheoljong glares at Kim Hwan. To his credit, Kim Hwan holds his ground, tilting his chin in defiance, glaring back at Cheoljong. Realizing that the queen’s cousin wouldn’t budge, Cheoljong blows out an exasperated breath, and looks at Hong instead. He can hurt Kim Hwan a hundred different ways without so much of an effort, but he appreciates the sentiment behind his bluster. 

“We will escort the queen back to the palace before anyone notices she is missing.... It is late.”  The lie comes from an unlikely source - Yeongpyeong. He seems to have awakened from his earlier mental stupor. Cheoljong gives him a grateful look, as Yeongpyeong gets to his feet, looking suddenly very alert.

“I will be alright, Kim Hwan.” So Yong assures her cousin.  As she speaks, her eyes sweep over Kim Hwan, worried he might not make it back to his residence safely. She turns her eye to Hong, who gives her a nod, like he understands her apprehension. 

Outnumbered, Kim Hwan relents, but not before he takes one last shot at Cheoljong. “You better bring her back to the palace safely… or my cousin Kim Byeong In will hear about this. He is the head of the Depart of Justice.”  

Cheoljong’s irritation over the mention of Byeong In gives him something to focus on other than his own growing discomfort. The queen’s welfare is nobody’s business but his, and it rankles him that Kim Hwan would think of her adoptive cousin, before her own husband.  

“We should go… Your Highness. ” Cheoljong says, looking at So Yong. His last words are a soft caress to her ears. 

So Yong nods and rises gracefully to her feet. She almost smiles at the awkward use of Your Highness . She joins Cheoljong and Yeongpyeong, deigning one last reassuring glance at Kim Hwan. “Thank you, Kim Hwan-ah. But Prince Yeongpyeong will escort me back to the palace.”

The three of them bid their farewells and head out to the darkened streets. The moon is conspicuously absent as a steady breeze blows, making the tiny lanterns that drip like mandarins, sway to and fro in the wind. 

“I will see you at the palace.” Yeongpyeong says when they are far enough from Hong’s residence. He and Cheoljong share a quick look. Some type of cryptic understanding passes between them, and then he goes on his way, leaving So Yong and Cheoljong alone.

Their walk is consumed by an awkward, tense silence, their shoulders brush several times, but neither say anything. They pass by the market area, which during the day would have been packed, now looks eerily quiet. There are a few forlorn lanterns, but otherwise the place is dark and deserted. Vendor stalls look desolate without their owners peddling their wares. No palanquins bob down the narrow streets. No townsfolk yelling at their children. 

Finally, Cheoljong could not take the silence any longer. "Why didn't you tell me?" Shame and frustration seep into his voice, as he fights hard to keep it even. 

"Would you have believed me?," So Yong replies in an even tone, her own emotions simmering just beneath the surface.

No. "Yes," Cheoljong grounds out as she continues to press forward, refusing to face him. 

So Yong stops briefly to face him, then chuckles without mirth, lifting her chin. In the palely lit streets, her expression looks harsher than it actually is.  "You would have fed me to the wolves. It would be one more thing my clan would have taken from you - a good memory."  

"No..I wouldn’t…" Cheoljong begins but he trails off, his voice lacks conviction even to his own years.

"You would have resented me even more… and it would be my word against your Consort." Her voice is even, calm, soft but Cheoljong hears the sorrowful undertones. She starts to walk again, leaving him behind. 

"Have you always known I was the boy in the well?" 

"No."

"When did you find out?" Cheoljong reaches out and cups her elbow, pulling her to a stop.

So Yong turns to face him as her eyes flick to his, searching Cheoljong's face as if considering how to answer. Finally, she expels a breath.  "A few months back."

"When?"

"Sometime before the wedding."

“When? How?”

“How is that important?”

“Please, just tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

So Yong's grief-stricken face at the lake flares briefly in Cheoljong’s mind. His own hateful words echoing in his head. And her face… Delicate. Beautiful. Tear-stained. “So that night at the lake…. You knew?”

“Yes.” 

“How?” Cheoljong’s voice sounded more desperate, sharper than he would’ve intended, but he’s getting frustrated over So Yong’s clipped non-answers. “How could you have stayed quiet for so long...? My Queen, I have been trying to do right by you… I wish you could have been honest with me too.” 

At the mention of the word “honest,” So Yong’s face twists in anger.  She skewers him with a furious look. “Your Majesty, I’ll thank you not to lay the blame on me,” she says curtly.

One of his hands reaches out and holds her arm, as he struggles to rein in his own frustration. He needs to hear her lash out, but other than her terse replies, she remains closed off. 

“My Queen, why can’t you be honest with me too? The well...that night at your father’s house, you said, ‘It’s just a well, it cannot hurt you anymore..’” He lets his voice trail off, waiting, hoping for So Yong to say something, anything, but she merely looks away, staring blankly into the empty streets.

“Is this how it’s going to be with you, My Queen? You demand my honesty, but cannot be honest in return?” he asks snidely. Cheoljong is aware he’s treading on thin ice, but he cannot help himself. So many emotions are running through him, each more crippling than the last.

“How can you be so furious about the banquet, when you have been keeping a huge secret yourself…?” Cheoljong continues, goading her. “It must have been fun for you getting your first kiss by the well, from the same boy you saved.” He regrets the words as soon as they slip from his lips, and he hates himself even more.

So Yong recoils, expelling a sharp breath.  “The kiss at the well, Your Majesty?” She huffs derisively. “My first kiss is definitely at the well, but not from you.” 

“What does that mean?” he asks, his tone terrifyingly low, frigid. If his eyes were blazing at her indifference earlier, her spiteful retort just turned them to ice.

“It means, Your Majesty, that while you’re busy lying through your teeth in defense of your consort, someone saw the reality of what I was going through.”  

“May I remind you that you’re the queen - “

“In paper, like you said!” So Yong hisses the words. She clenches her fist to rein in her anger and takes a few calming breaths. “It happened days before the wedding, so I would be careful about what you're about to accuse me of, Your Majesty.” 

“Even so, you are betrothed to the king!” he says through gritted teeth as anger courses through him. Hard. Fast. Sickening. Who would dare touch a woman promised to the king? He swears to deal with the reprobate later. Cheoljong grips her arm harder, but not enough to hurt. He just needed an anchor to keep him from losing his temper, his sanity completely. 

“You have Lady Hwa Jin, I have my own… secrets. I fail to see the difference.”  she shoots back scornfully, as anger erupts inside her, scorching all her scruples. So Yong knows she’s baiting him but at that moment she doesn’t care. Months of keeping her frustrations bottled up finally took its toll on her. 

“Who is this man?” 

“You don’t deserve to know, Your Majesty.” She responds haughtily. With that she shakes off the hand on her arm, spins around, and stomps off.  

Her words strike Cheoljong like a blow. She hit him exactly where it hurts the most. He is just about to lash out when a single bolt of lightning flashes across the sky, followed immediately by a booming roll of thunder. A light drizzle follows shortly. Furious at each other, So Yong and Cheoljong walk briskly towards the palace, in tense, cackling  silence. They manage to make it inside the palace walls before the heavens open up, but it still is a long walk away from either Daejojeon or Huijeongjeon. 

In spite of his anger, Cheoljong doesn’t want her to get drenched, so he takes her by the wrist and leads her towards the nearest building, seeking shelter under an awning. He is surprised when she goes with him willingly. He lets his hand drop as soon as they are safe from the downpour, but much to his heart’s despair, she moves away instantaneously, as if his mere presence offends her. 

Seething in anger, Cheoljong stands stiffly at one end of the sheltered area, his body angled towards the rain. First the well, then a kiss… in the same well! He cannot decide which secret irks him more. Another bolt of lightning cuts across the darkened skies followed by a loud, ominous thunder. He jumps at the alternating flash of vivid light and appalling blackness.   

He turns his head towards So Yong, watching her across fifteen feet of semi-darkness. He feels every bit of aching distance between them. She stands so close to the rain, he worries she’d get drenched from the spatter. He can make out her slender form as she reaches out a hand with an upturned palm, cupped, as if trying to catch raindrops. 

Something in Cheoljong’s mind clicks. A fleeting image of a beautiful woman flashes across his mind.  An accompanying memory surfaces, rendering the image vivid. It was an afternoon from months ago, and it was no different from the tedium of other afternoons. Except that he met her for the first time…. the second time, apparently. He just finished with his archery practice, and was trying to lose his tail - the eunuch. He remembers making a sharp left, instead of a right when the rain suddenly fell in torrents. He ran towards the nearest building to seek shelter…. and met a woman with the most beguiling smile. She tended to his wound so brazenly. Now he realizes why she seemed so familiar back then. 

At the memory, every bit of anger—every doubt, every question, every thought—empties from his head, from his heart. He had given So Yong his heart that day, and he never really got it back. He does not want it back. 

A chilly breeze blows and Cheoljong shivers.  He steals another glance at So Yong, realizing her clothes are just as damp as his. She must be freezing, he thought. The wind picks up and the strings of her gat billows with each gust of air. He notices her untie the ribbon, and then  takes off her gat completely, lifting her face into the breeze.

As if sensing his eye on her, So Yong  turns her head to look at Cheoljong, but she only deigns him a quick look, and turns her attention back to the downpour. It struck Cheoljong just how many times So Yong saw that book in Seonjeongjeon and Huijeongjeon - a token of courage used so viciously against her. How often he would deliberately show affection for Hwa Jin just to get a rise out of her. Countless transgressions over such a short period of time. Little dots on the map that seem completely inconsequential to him, but looking back now, they’d meant everything to her. Each memory now feels like cuts made by a rusty sword. A most devastating thought occurs to him: maybe she really is better off without him. 

“No!” He doesn’t realize he has uttered the word out loud until So Yong casts him a glance. His body moves before his mind registers it; he closes the distance in four strides, but So Yong turns her back on him. Undeterred, he wraps his arms around her waist, embracing her so hard it feels as though his body melds into hers. 

“My queen…” he rasps as his chin rests on her shoulder. “I’m not mad at you.. I’m mad at myself,” he says. “I’m sorry.” 

So Yong remains stiff in his arms. "I should have known it's you," he continues.

In spite of the warmth of his embrace, So Yong shivers, so he pulls her even closer to his body, if that was even possible. 

She doesn’t speak for so long, Cheoljong wonders if she is even paying attention. After a while she relaxes just a little, letting out a long sigh.

“I’m sorry too, Your Majesty. I hid it from you for a long time, " she says softly.

“I understand why you chose to do it. You’re right, if you had told me back then, I might have resented you… but perhaps, I would have tried to understand you earlier.” 

She hesitates for a moment, but the warm feeling of his body wrapped around hers is too wonderful. Eventually, she couldn’t resist anymore and she lets her body sink against him.

He drops his arms just so he can turn her to face him.  His eyes burn into hers, shame and regret burning bright behind them… but hope also flickers in them.  "I cannot undo the past, but the only future I want is the one that has you in it." 

"I want that too, Your Majesty." The words come straight from the long-forgotten depths of her heart. Finally hitting terra firma after falling precipitously, endlessly the last few months, So Yong has never felt so anchored and yet so free. 

He eases closer, pulling her in, his chest against hers, taking up all the space around So Yong.. taking up all of her heart. 

The thunderstorm eases into a gentle patter, as though the weather commiserates with them. 

After a while, So Yong pulls away, gesturing towards the light drizzle.  "We should probably make a break for it, Your Majesty.”

“A king doesn’t run.” 

So Yong hears the teasing note in his voice. When she looks at him, the rare soft smile that So Yong finds so unwittingly seductive is back on his face, and heat unfurls in her belly. Suddenly filled with lecherous thoughts, So Yong pulls away before she does anything…indecent.  

Thankful that the night hides her flaming cheeks, she urges Cheoljong to brave the rain before the weather gets worse again. “Your Majesty, we should go.”

Cheoljong turns towards the soft drizzle, and mimics what So Yong did earlier. He holds out his arm with his palm upturned to catch raindrops. “It is great to get rained on sometimes. It washes the worries away.”

At that, Cheoljong takes her hand in his and together they head surreptitiously towards Daejojeon, weaving through rain-slicked passageways. Cheoljong, who has been sneaking in and out of the palace, is surprised to find So Yong to be so fleet-footed, keeping pace with him as they race towards her private residence. He squeezes her hands once or twice, just to remind himself that it is real, that the queen, his queen , is in fact right beside him. 

----

Elsewhere within the palace walls….

"Someone is here to see you, My Lord."

Kim Jwa Geun is reading a book in his chamber when the servant barges in. He is surprised, but neither his face nor his movement betrays his thoughts. He doesn't even turn his head, he simply deigns the servant a disinterested look. Who would come to see him this late at night, in the middle of a rare thunderstorm? 

"Who is it?" He turns a page, his eyes never leaving the book. 

"She doesn’t say, but she insists on seeing you, My Lord."

Kim Jwa Geum slams the book shut, curiosity piqued. He remains seated and gestures to the servant to usher in whoever came to see him. She must be desperate if she wants to see him this late in the night, in such inclement weather… whoever she might be.

When the doors slide open, the woman enters but her face is obscured by an inconspicuous gray jang-ot . When the servant leaves, she lifts the piece of garment off, and reveals a face so familiar to Kim Jwa Geun, he could not believe his own eyes. He is astounded to find the young woman standing before him, but his expression remains impassive. Sensing her trepidation, he rises to his feet, deliberately slow, to meet her. 

"What brings you here?" he asks, equal parts intrigued and suspicious, but his dour expression and inscrutable countenance give nothing away. 

"I have information you want to hear." she replies frostily, wrinkling her nose, as if talking to Kim Jwa Geun is beneath her.  

Kim Jwa Geun gives her a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He doesn't trust her, but he's curious. She definitely has his full attention as he senses her desperation. People who reek of despair are the easiest to manipulate. He gestures towards the cushions so they can sit and talk, but she shakes her head. 

"I cannot stay long." 

Irked, Kim Jwa Geum waits quietly, as the woman seems to be warring with herself. A moral crisis is written across her face.  He knows that a tense silence is more effective than the best-worded questions. 

And then she steels herself.  Eyes narrowed, she spills secrets… dangerous, deadly secrets. 

"What do you want in return?" He asks in his signature toneless drawl. While the information is news to Kim Jwa Geun, it is not exactly a surprise. 

"Get rid of her," she responds in a heartbeat. She speaks with no inflection, but her eyes hold the malice of a thousand evils. 

"You realize, you can never be - " 

"I just want the king," the woman interrupts, her eyes blazing.  With that, she dips her head politely, whirls around and marches towards the door. 

Kim Jwa Geun smirks. Such frail creatures, he thought. Before the door closes behind the woman, he speaks once more, goading her.  "Have a good night, Royal Consort .” 

Chapter Text

Cheoljong is shocked to find the hall leading to So Yong’s chamber empty. Apart from the Royal Guards posted outside Daejojeon, there are no servants standing by her chamber's door. He makes a mental note to thank Yeongpyeong for it. Hope blooms in Cheoljong’s heart. His brother is a man of few words; normally prudent with his actions, and he is floored by the gesture. He does not expect him to ever warm up to the queen, but the gesture is definitely a step in the right direction. 

The hallway is lit by the low lamps, casting an almost buttery glow across the hall. Without the servants, the quiet is almost dreamy. He has walked the same hallway countless times, but somehow, it feels different, poetic even. In spite of the lingering cold, or their damp clothes from the rain, he feels warm. It felt like coming home to a place with logs burning in the hearth. He glances furtively at So Yong sidelong; she seems just as bewildered as he is.

He looks down at their clasped hands and squeezes. So Yong squeezes his hand back. When he looks at her again, she meets his eyes. There is an almost shy expression on her face.

Cheoljong smiles. Filled with a promise. 

So Yong smiles back. Filled with wonder. 

The walk down her chamber is short, and he slows down, savoring the moment, prolonging it. It is a path he wants to walk forever - beside her, her hand in his. 

When they reach the doors,  So Yong expects him to drop her hand, so he could push the sliding doors open, but he doesn't. He uses his other hand to push one door sideways, and shoulders the other.  When they cross the threshold, So Yong slides one door close, and Cheoljong does the other. 

The air crackles with tension, as Cheoljong leads her towards the inner chamber of Daejojeon. When they reach the center, he stops and turns to face her, dropping her hands just so he can frame her face.

"My queen,” he breathes, leaning closer, his gaze falling to her lips, parting instinctively at his heated gaze.

Heat rises from So Yong’s belly to her cheeks as she gazes back at Cheoljong. When his tongue flicks out to lick his lips, her belly contracts. “Yes, Your Majesty?” she murmurs, anticipation spiking around her heart.

He traces the outline of her lips gently, his eyes following the movement of his thumb. Just when So Yong thought he’d lower his head to kiss her finally, he closes his eyes and lets his forehead drop to hers, lingering for a second or two before pulling back.  “I will never misunderstand you, or confuse you with anyone else again,” he declares, his voice low and husky.

Her lashes sweep up, and Cheoljong is startled to see that her eyes are glassy. “You asked me why I didn’t tell you about the well," she whispers. A heavy pause follows, as if she’s mustering the courage to speak her truth.

There is a lump in her throat and she swallows it down. “I didn’t tell you about the well because I was afraid.” A rogue tear escapes her right eye and he catches it with his knuckle. She leans into it, tilting her head into his touch.

The well seems to bring up painful memories and it baffles Cheoljong why. She has been incredibly brave to help him. He owes her his life. The temptation to comfort her overwhelms him, but he resists. In that moment, she doesn’t need his comfort; she needs him to listen.. to understand. 

“I asked one of my father’s servants to help you… but he told my father instead. That is why they locked you up in that well. Because they found out. Because I told them.” 

He pulls back, just a little. Almost smiling, he gazes straight into her eyes with an enraptured  look. “Your cousin had you pegged perfectly: Fierce. Brave. Capable beyond measure.”

Light descends on her face, as Cheoljong watches her with heavy-lidded eyes. Once again, the vulnerability in his features pierces her heart. When he leans closer, So Yong meets him halfway.  

She thought she’d be used to Cheoljong's kisses by then, but the contact of his mouth against hers, lights an immediate fire in her belly, racing through her veins. Nothing about this kiss is soft; it is a far cry from his previous gentle kisses. This is demanding, all-consuming… almost desperate. 

A kiss so..

So incredibly wicked.      

So utterly divine. 

He parts her lips with a fierce stroke of his tongue, and a tight shudder rolls through So Yong. Needing to feel more, she moves her hands to his shoulders, inching even closer, molding herself into Cheoljong’s body, feeling his hardness through his damp clothes.

When his hands grazed the sides of her breasts, So Yong expels a ragged breath. Deft fingers tug at her clothes with impressive speed and dexterity, until only his grip on her keeps them from falling away completely, leaving her naked before him. He skims his thumb over the peaks of her breasts and she whimpers. 

Her own hands do their own exploring, pulling at the hem of his clothes. She manages to free him of his upper garments, exposing the taut muscles of his abdomen, the wide, hard planes of his chest, and the strong breadth of his shoulders. When her hands sweep over his sleek skin, Cheoljong makes a throaty approving sound. 

She expects Cheoljong to carry her to the beddings, but for the second time that week, he falls to his knees before her. Cheoljong of Joseon, twenty-fifth king of the Joseon Dynasty no longer bends to anything and to anyone. 

But he kneels for her. 

“Your Majesty… “ She meant the words as a reproach, but they came out a plea. If her body isn’t on fire, she’d feel embarrassed. To her, the position is almost lewd, salacious even, but her protests die in her lips as soon as Cheoljong started kissing the inside of her left knee, then her right knee. 

He runs his hands up the front of her thighs, and continues upward until he reaches the juncture of her thighs, finding her very wet for him. Without preamble, he presses his tongue to that part of her body she didn't know existed until Cheoljong found it. So Yong clutches his shoulders, his topknot, as his tongue continues its devilish machinations -  slow, sensuous movements, utterly confident in his knowledge of her body. He has two fingers inside her, his mouth moving hungrily, his other hand holding her steady. So Yong is too turned on to be embarrassed as she quickly comes undone around him, against him.

So Yong has yet to catch breath, but Cheoljong is already moving up her body. He lifts her against him, his hands gripping her hips as she wraps her legs around his waist, her arms winding around his neck. He crashes his mouth into So Yong’s, and she responds in equal fervor, pressing herself against him as he starts to walk towards the beddings.

By the time So Yong’s back hits the cushion and he glides over her, every single one of her nerve endings is on fire. So Yong tugs at his trousers urgently and he is more than happy to help, chucking the garment away so quickly. When So Yong opens her legs to allow his weight to come down on top of her, they both groan at the delicious friction. 

Her hands drift to his shoulders, fingers trailing over the hard muscles, tracing the scars on his chest, skimming the expanse of his back, her well-trimmed nails dragging down on either side of his spine, reveling at the way he shudders beneath her touch. So Yong wiggles her hips invitingly, almost obscenely, eliciting a rasping groan from Cheoljong.

The tip of him brushes against her, and So Yong moans into his mouth, her body desperate for him to fill her. She grinds her hips against him, sliding her hands down his back, silently urging him on, locking her legs, gasping as he teases inside of her before pulling away.       

“I am the king,” he growls into her ear. “I will not be rushed.”       

“We’ll see about that,” she whispers, but her wits scatter, as his mouth closes over the peak of her left breast, taking the entire tip and pulling it deep into the warmth of his mouth.  So Yong cries out and arches; the sensation is too much for her, moaning shamelessly. When his tongue gives the right peak the same attention as the other, sucking it deep into his mouth, stars dance in her vision.

Cheoljong pulls back then, almost all the way, but before So Yong could mourn the loss, he finds her mouth and kisses her as he thrusts into her again. He slides his arm beneath her neck, cradling her head in the crook of his arm and burrows his head against her neck. He slides into her once more, staying deeper than before. 

“Let go, My Queen. Let go,” he groans into her ear. And So Yong does. She lets out a scream of pleasure at the feel of him stretching and filling her, coming apart, clenching, shattering around him. Two hard thrusts later and he is lost too. Lost in the incredible pleasure of her body. A deep guttural moan rips from his throat and his body shudders over hers. 

Finally, their bodies relax, and he lowers himself atop her, his slick body, a warm and welcome weight. So Yong wraps her arms around Cheoljong, planting a light kiss on his shoulder. 

Cheoljong makes a muffled sound against her neck and So Yong finds it difficult to make out the words exactly, but they now sound so familiar to her ears. "My queen." 

He plants a kiss on her jaw before rolling onto his back. Unsure what to do next, So Yong extends a hand until her index finger brushes his. He turns his head to look at her, their faces align perfectly in the golden glow of the low lamps. He slides his palm beneath hers then links his fingers with hers. They were quiet for a while, content, sated, So Yong marveling at their intertwined hands.

“Stay,” he says, without preamble. 

It took a few seconds for So Yong to understand what Cheoljong means. There is an openness to his expression that struck So Yong. Triggered something behind her heart, like a flower blooming in sunlight. An emotion she’d forbidden herself from feeling ever since that dreadful night at the lake. 

“There was a time when all I ever wanted was a kind word from you, a warm gesture - scraps. I would have been happy with scraps knowing your heart belongs to someone else. I would have settled for that, as long as there was space for me in your heart, however small it was.” So Yong speaks haltingly… taking deep breaths in between words. 

“But that woman who would have been happy to  settle for scraps.. that woman is dead at the bottom of the lake,” she couldn't keep the bitterness from her voice. 

“I owe it to her to find something more, to be in a marriage. I want a family, children, I want to be a mother.  I want to be with someone who thinks the world of me, and I, of him… “

Something painful twists inside Cheoljong. He cannot bear the thought of So Yong falling in love with a dashing young nobleman from some village, sweeping her off her feet with flowers and poetry.  

“I deserve everything. I want everything.”

“You are everything to this king.”  Cheoljong says softly, his own voice breaking. A single tear rolls down his cheek and So Yong’s heart twists at the sight.

"Maybe so. But for how long? Perhaps these are residual feelings because we slept together…"  So Yong pulls her hands from Cheoljong and turns away, as tears start leaking at the corners of her eyes.

It occurs to Cheoljong just how much damage he has done to her and his heart breaks from his own past cruelties. He reaches out and pulls her to him, her back to his chest. 

“I cannot change the mistakes of our past. The present is all we have.”

"And at present, you are king, with every sense of the word. You have everything you've always wanted." 

"Not everything," he says solemnly against her neck. “Please look at me,” he pleads as his arms tighten around her. 

“So Yong-ah…” he whispers with the same reverence as a prayer.  

“So Yong-ah,” he says again, imploring. The roll of her name on his tongue is foreign but familiar. He’s been wanting to call her by her name for a while now. 

The sound of her name on his lips is strange to her ears, but it burrows itself in her heart.  She turns around slowly. The look in Cheoljong’s eyes undoes her. She reaches a hand to his cheek, and he leans into her touch. 

 "You are powerful now. If .. When I go, you can marry the woman you love," she reminds him softly. 

 Cheoljong takes the hand on his cheek, and kisses the inside of her palm. "I am already married to her."

Soyong feels the strong tug of her heart, and she puts a hand over her heart, as if to ensure it does not burst out of her chest.  

Cheoljong inches closer, her hand still in his.  He takes a shuddering breath before speaking again. “I should have told you a long time ago…."

So Yong's silence prompts him to continue. "I want to be with you always, My Queen. I never want to be parted from you.” His eyes well with fresh tears. 

There was something so heartbreaking about him. So soulfully sad. Because she could almost see the little boy who lived inside him. The boy who was sorrowful enough to experience his family being murdered. The boy who had to hide inside the well to survive.

“Stay,” he says again. 

The word emboldens So Yong. Bolsters her sense of purpose. Perhaps it is the promise in his eyes. Or her own heart unfurling fully. Or the realization that love does not flourish in a heart full of fear. Whatever it is, she no longer wants to scurry away and hide in the safety of the shadows.

The time for pretending she doesn’t reciprocate his feelings is over. He is the king and she is the queen. It is foolish to keep pretending she doesn’t want him in her life, to pretend she doesn’t ache for his attention, for his smiles, for his touch. She wants to be his queen, his wife, in every sense of the word. 

She reaches out to caress his face, the slight scruff on his jaw chafing her skin. “Okay,” she says simply.

Startled, Cheoljong gazes at her, words failing him. “So Yong-ah,” he breathes in wonder, before he leans forward, his lips catching hers, slanting them together in a searing kiss. Rolling her onto her back, he plants open-mouth kisses up her throat, then drags his tongue under her jaw,  her collarbone, her barely-there scar, and whispers something inarticulate. So Yong bites her lip, sealing in a moan.

He moves purposely so he lies on top of her. He clasps her wrists in his hands and lifts her arms over her head. Once more, Cheoljong's mouth finds hers, silencing any remaining doubt in her head. 

He pulls back just a little, using his arms to brace himself above her, as a roguish smile plays at his lips.  “So, children huh?” There is a sensual cadence to his voice that makes So Yong tingle all over.  

“We should start with that..” he says, as So Yong reels her fingers around his nape, pulling him down, absorbing the exquisite weight of his body once more.

And so that night, with So Yong more cooperative than ever, Cheoljong sets out to do just that. Twice.

---

The sun remains bashful the following day, hiding behind rain clouds, and while it does not rain, the weather is dark and somber the whole day. It is almost dusk and the dull gray weather outside bathes Tongmyeongjeon in sepia tones. The low lamps are lit early, and they cast a soft glow on the floor. 

Kim Jwa Geun pays a visit to his temperamental sister, the dowager queen, and as always, she is in one of her moods. If only he can blame the weather for her irritability.

“True love!” The dowager queen scoffs, sitting behind a low table, her yellow dangui, an assault to the baleful tones of Tongmyeongjeon.  “How sweet,” she adds disdainfully, practically spitting out the words. “This kingdom isn’t built on true love!” she barks, slamming her fist down the table in disgust and exasperation. Her small outburst sends a small jar on the table to titter, almost falling off the edge, but the old blind woman patiently kneading the area between her shoulder blades, doesn’t even flinch. She is glad for the servant's inability to see or hear - she sees no evil, she hears no evil.  She will speak no evil.

Kim Jwa Geun just told Sunwon about the consort’s unprecedented visit, and his theory that the queen has developed real feelings for the king. He remains quiet as the dowager queen vents her anger. From experience, he knows his irascible sister needs a little time to process information.

She eventually calms down and taps on the servant's hands so she could focus her attention on her upper arms. She is amazed at the old woman’s talent for acupressure. “What else did the consort say?” she asks Kim Jwa Geun. 

“It was the queen who saved the king’s banquet,” he says flatly. 

“That little ingrate!” she snaps, anger rolling off her skin. 

In a much more measured tone, she adds, “I knew she was going to be a problem, but you insisted she’s our best chance. She had you fooled. Those conniving fools deceived you so easily!” 

The accusation annoyed Kim Jwa Geun, but his countenance conveys nothing. He bites back the blistering retort that springs from his lips, and focuses his attention on the dying embers of the brazier next to him. He throws some kindling and uses a short iron rod to coax the fire.

Sensing his sister’s more even temper, he speaks in his signature monotone, his eyes trained on the brazier, the orange of the fire reflected in his irises. “Her Highness has been deceived by the queen too.” 

Sunwon narrows her eyes at her brother, wondering what other treacherous things the seemingly obedient queen did. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“The concubines,” he replies simply, as if that explains everything. When she doesn’t react, he continues, “You trusted her with the selection… and her choices favored the king.”

Understanding dawns on Sunwon. If she isn’t so furious, she’d be impressed by the queen’s subterfuge. “That wily minx. I didn’t think she had it in her.” The words are a hiss, but there is a subtle note of admiration in them. The queen is cunning; she can respect that. She gestures to the servant to start massaging her neck. The conversation is not helping her tense shoulders. “First, she wanted to renege on the wedding! Now this?”

“She wanted to back out?” Kim Jwa Geun intones. 

“She came to me before the wedding.”

“Hmmm,” is all Kim Jwa Geun says, choosing not to tell his short-tempered sister about his own conversation with So Yong days before the wedding. She told him, in no uncertain terms, that she is not spying on the king. He remembers being shocked to discover that the seemingly subservient woman had ice in her blood. 

He had misgivings then, but he thought Kim Mun Geun’s beautiful daughter would make an excellent Trojan horse to an unsuspecting king. He remembers the little girl wailing over the inevitable fate of the boy in the well. He counted on her telling the king about the well, earning his trust, pleasuring his body, seducing his heart - the perfect gambit for treachery. Oh how wrong he is.

“What do we do with the consort?” the previous queen asks, rotating her head as the old woman continues to knead the tendons on her neck, expertly coaxing the tension out.

Kim Jwa Geun shrugs nonchalantly. “She is useful, as long as her heart is consumed by jealousy.” He looks up briefly as hot coals in the brazier smolder, and loose embers scatter onto the air above it. He takes the iron rod once more and sweeps some of the coals over to the side.

“And the queen?” she asks irritably. “She is completely broken.”

“You can replace a broken item with a new one, but you can make the broken one serve its purpose until the end.” He pauses and looks at the flames of the brazier once more.

“She jumped onto the lake to drown herself once…” Kim Jwa Geun’s tone is calm, but it drips with sinister intentions. He continues to throw kindling into the brazier beside him, as his face remains placid. Horrifyingly placid. 

He casts the blind servant a furtive glance. Her face remains impassive. Satisfied, Kim Jwa Geun speaks again. 

“We should do her the courtesy of granting that wish.” 

Chapter Text

“Your Highness, you look different today.” Lady Choi observes.  

The queen insists she wants to see the garden. The sun is out after a few days of gloom, and Lady Choi is looking forward to feeling the sun on her face again. A walk outside would be absolutely wonderful. She gives the queen a once-over as Hong Yeon fastens her chignon with her favorite gold binyeo. She is turning her head left and right in front of the mirror, admiring Hong Yeon’s impeccable handiwork.  

“Different, how?” she replies without looking at Lady Choi. Her tone is light and there is an unusual musical lilt to it - one that Lady Choi has never heard before.

In fact, the doting older lady noticed a few changes in the queen the last couple of days… at least after that night when Prince Yeongpyeong ordered everyone, except the Royal Guards, to leave Daejojeon. Her smiles are wider, her skin is practically glowing, and there is a joyous twinkle in her eye. The dark cloud that used to follow her around seems to have been replaced by a lighter, freer, sprightly zest for life. She is much like the young, besotted woman who moved to the palace after being chosen as the future queen… except this version of her is less self-conscious, more confident, less naive, more discerning. 

Lady Choi’s thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the queen’s chuckle.  She laughs at something Hong Yeon says, and while she doesn’t hear what the maid said, Lady Choi finds herself grinning from ear-to-ear. Happiness is infectious.

“You seem happier, Your Highness,” Hong Yeon replies, a teasing grin colors her features. 

So Yong pulls herself to her feet, tucking her hands primly under her purple dangui.   “I suppose I am happier these days,” she agrees, her expression warm like summer, vibrant like spring. “The weather is beautiful. Shall we go see the garden now?”

--

So Yong is devastated to find her favorite garden in ruins. A few days of rain drowned the flower beds - the once colorful garden now looks like a small stream of floating flowers. Even the rose bush does not seem fortunate enough to survive. She sighs heavily at the waterlogged sight of her favorite yellow flowers 

“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Lady Choi says, sounding mournful herself. She knows how much the queen loves the small garden. “I’m sure we can fix it… it will just take some time.”

She lifts her skirt to keep it from being dirtied by the turgid soil, but her shoes are not so lucky. She trudges down the path and notices the same little girl she ran into a few weeks back. She is busy saving what was left of the chrysanthemums. When she looks up, her eyes widen at the sight of the queen and her entourage. She rises to her feet abruptly to greet her. 

“Your Highness, “ she says, looking sullen. “The rains the last few days have ruined your garden.”

“Damhyang!” she greets the girl kindly, remembering her name. “What are you doing here?” So Yong notices her soiled skirts and hands, and the poor girl's feet are dipped in a muddied puddle. 

“I was tasked to salvage whatever is left of the flowers,” she replies.

So Yong gives the garden another once-over. There isn’t much anyone can do to save it. She turns her attention back to the little girl. “I don’t think there is anything we can do, but wait for the water to recede...and then maybe…” So Yong pauses, she isn’t sure herself.

“Your Highness, we can replant your favorite flowers.” Lady Choi interrupts kindly. 

“Damhyang, do you like flowers too?” she asks the little girl instead. 

She nods as a smile curls up her face. “My mother used to plant flowers in our backyard.”

“Where is your mother?” 

The smile dissolves into a frown, and she looks away. “She’s working off our family’s debts.”

“What about your father?”

“He ran away. They accused him of stealing.” Her face colors with embarrassment, but she adds, “There wasn't much to eat that day…” Her voice trails off as she hangs her head. 

“Tell me what happened,” So Yong says patiently, kindly, and so the child tells her of her father losing his left eye, of her mother forced into hard labor, and of herself working as a palace maid to survive.  

So Yong’s hands ball into tight fists. Her own clan’s greed, her powerlessness as a queen, Cheoljong’s long list of appeals to review: these are a few reasons why innocents such as the poor child fall through the cracks. 

Such blatant rapacity of the few caused so much anguish to many. To people. To families. To children. Her own kin did this, and as a queen, she must find a way to atone for the sins of her clan. 

“You should go and change into something dry,” she says instead, making a mental note of speaking to the king about her situation. Soon. 

---- 

That night as So Yong waits for sleep, tossing and turning in bed, she remembers an earlier conversation with Cheoljong. 

If you aren’t leaving, and you have all the power of a queen, what would you do?

While she isn’t leaving, technically, she doesn’t really have a lot of power, other than the influence she has on Cheoljong.  

Cheoljong.

She hasn’t seen him in the last few days and the thought annoys her.  She's tempted to pull out something from her old bag of tricks - perhaps bribe eunuchs to find out where he is and stage a fortuitous meeting. She chuckles to herself.  Spying on Cheoljong seems so long ago now.  Besides, she is much too proud these days. Pride - a vice, a trait, an idiosyncrasy that has been passed on through generations of her clan.

Except that the heart sees beyond one’s pride. 

Before she knows it, So Yong is on her feet. She grabs an overcoat and throws it over her sleeping gown. Halfway to the door, she begins to second-guess herself so she lets the memory of the destitute girl wash over her. For Damhyang. For the children, she tells herself. But even she recognizes how ridiculous it is to hightail to Huijeongjeon for that reason alone. 

The hallway is bright and the servants outside her bedchamber are shocked to see her. She ignores them. 

“Your Highness, is something wrong?” Lady Choi asks, looking very concerned, lines of worry mar her face.

So Yong shakes her head. “I’m going to Huijeongjeon Hall,” she replies casually, walking down the hallway in long, purposeful strides. 

“Your Highness! It is late!” Lady Cho replies reproachfully, her light footsteps trailing in So Yong’s wake. “His Majesty would have retired earlier.” 

The thought of Cheoljong sleeping soundly while she’s tossing and turning rankles So Yong. She ignores Lady Choi and presses forward. Much to Lady Choi’s consternation, So Yong strides faster, like a woman on a mission.

The eunuch’s eyes widen as she comes closer, but nothing about So Yong surprises him these days. 

If she isn't so annoyed with Cheoljong, she would have paused to smile at the poor eunuch, who scampers to open the sliding doors for her. She doesn’t bother to wait for it to close behind her. She ploughs through Huijeongjeon and marches straight to Cheoljong’s private chamber. Except for the faint light coming from a couple of lamps at the antechamber, Cheoljong’s sleeping area is swathed in semi-darkness.

But while she’s exasperated, years of training as an aristocratic lady taught her to speak in hushed even tones, so instead of the disdainful tone in her head, she says, "You're Majesty! May I have a word, please.”

Silence.

Annoyed even more, she moves closer to his beddings, suddenly realizing the intimacy of the small space. Maybe barging in on the king might not have been a good idea after all. Flustered, she whisper-shouts, “Your Majesty, I cannot believe you sleep so soundly while children toil the whole day!" 

A movement at the corner of the room catches her attention. When she turns her head, she finds Cheoljong, getting dressed.. or maybe undressed? He seems to be in the middle of changing from his dark training clothes to his night robes, his upper garment is open low on his breastbone, and the flat expanse of his chest is on display. 

So Yong's vision instinctively zeroes in on the stretch of skin peeking through his clothes. She is rendered speechless by the sight, but a now-familiar sense of delight spreads through her. 

Nonplussed, Cheoljong tugs at the tie on his dark garments and loosens it, further exposing the planes of his chest down to the ridges of his abdomen. 

"Your Majesty, you’re up?" She asks, stating the obvious, mouth hanging agape. She should probably look away, but she stays rooted on the spot, transfixed at the sight of Cheoljong half-dressed. She remembers dragging her hands over his bare chest, as a jolt of heated awareness runs through her body. She is tempted to come closer, but lessons in propriety keep her from combusting altogether. She is still, after all, a queen. 

But really, queens should be granted the same indulgence as kings.

Cheoljong stares at her in wry amusement. So Yong looking flushed and flustered is a fine finale for his frustrating day. Deciding to tease her, Cheoljong chucks off his upper garments completely, loving the way her eyes  widen, almost bulging out of their sockets as they sweep off his body appreciatively. But his joy is short-lived because So Yong shakes off her lust-addled haze and whirls around abruptly. 

Not wanting to let her go so easily, Cheoljong moves quickly, and catches up in three quick strides, grabbing hold of her arm gently.

"What is it, My Queen?" He asks, sounding deceptively innocent while an impish smile plays on his lips. 

So Yong avoids his eyes, feeling the heat creep up her cheeks. "It's unimportant. It can wait until tomorrow," she says, attempting to sound breezy and snooty at the same time. 

"Since you're here… why don't I change, and we could talk?" Cheoljong looks at her expectantly with an amused twinkle in his eyes.  He is delighted to see the heat creeping up across her neck and into her cheeks. “Let me just get changed.”

So Yong takes a deep breath to control herself, angry that Cheoljong isn’t the least bit concerned about not seeing her for a few days, and even more annoyed at the adamant flutters in her belly. She clenches her fist and holds on to the latter. She knows anger well - she can bend it, wield it, use it; it's the fluttery, warm tingle that's turning her intellect to mush. 

"That won't be necessary," she demurs haughtily. The sooner she tells him, the sooner she leaves. She cannot stay longer, not when she's feeling all hot and bothered. "I just came to tell you that… " she pauses trying to find the right words but Cheoljong’s half-dressed nearness proves to be the scourge of her mental acuity. 

"My queen, tell me. What is it?" His teasing tone is replaced by apprehension, as he wonders what’s behind the onyx eyes he has come to know so well.

Expelling an exasperated breath, she says, "I need you to change the rules around children forced to work as servants and maids."

Cheoljong remembers So Yong telling him about it before, but he is baffled why she would burst into his chambers so late in the night for something like that. He inches closer, loving the way her breath hitches with every move he makes. He missed her the last few days, but between the pesky thief problem down south and the extraordinary appeals he needs to review, he didn't get a chance to see her. 

There is also that growing, gnawing apprehension over the Kim clan's sudden quiet… he is almost certain they're brewing something, but he can't seem to figure out what it is. He's been finishing his engagements late recently and he didn't have the heart to wake her up. But just the same, he should've made just a little bit of effort to come see her.

So Yong continues, interrupting his internal soliloquy. "Now that you are in power, you cannot allow children to be servants, to be maids. They are the most vulnerable and you must protect them.”

“Alright.” 

"Please, you must look into it right away." 

"Alright." Cheoljong sees the value of So Yong's proposal. As an orphan, he was forced to face the harsh realities of life early on. Children are born without fear, but his difficult life taught him to be afraid. 

Soyong has an entire speech prepared to convince Cheoljong, and is stunned over his immediate assent. She narrows her eyes at him, half vexed, half suspicious, although the vexation comes from the persistent somersaults in her belly. His undress is very, very, very distracting and her fingers itch to trace the well-defined ridges of his torso. Her face creases in self-contempt. 

“What is it, My Queen?” Cheoljong asks apprehensively, genuinely baffled at her reaction. He thought she’d be pleased with his response, instead, she frowns in obvious displeasure. “I thought you’d be happy I agreed to it. It is a sound proposal.” 

So Yong looks him straight in the eye, her face suddenly serious. "Your Majesty, if I may be so bold, you must learn to wield the power you have.  You cannot agree so easily… make people think, make them come to you, make them talk, see just how much they’re willing to give up, what they're willing to offer, to get what they want."

Cheoljong's eyes widen in surprise. Yet again, he is enraptured by her cunning and keen intellect. And while her unpredictability drives him crazy, his thoughts latch on to the tail end of her remark. His voice drops several octaves lower, transforming his tone into a seductive drawl. "What exactly are you willing to offer, My Queen?" A smile filled with mischief curls his lips. 

So Yong’s body flares to life, but at that moment, she wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug smile off Cheoljong’s face. Two can play this game , she thought. She surprises Cheoljong, even herself, by inching closer and tilting her face towards his, her breath mingling with his. Cheoljong's hands instinctively go to her hips, as his copper eyes turn obsidian. The smug smile dissolves into a memory. 

Emboldened, So Yong stands on her tiptoes and reaches up to clasp her arms around his neck, pulling his head down so she could press her mouth to his for a kiss - chaste as a maiden, soft as cotton, light as a feather. 

Cheoljong is no longer surprised by So Yong’s capricious moods, and if this is the type of spontaneity he’d expect from her moving forward, he is completely onboard. However, if this is how she rewards him for every social reform he agrees to, then the kingdom is in utter peril. 

Much to his chagrin, So Yong pulls back almost immediately, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across her face. "I got what I came for. Thank you, Your Majesty." 

She spins on her heel and makes a move towards the doors, but kings are not to be trifled with. Cheoljong pulls her back almost reflexively, wrapping an arm around her waist. Taking advantage of her startled expression, he hooks her chin with the knuckle of his pointer finger and guides her face up, as his head comes down, his mouth crushing over hers, in a kiss that's demanding, dizzying, divine.

He can feel So Yong freeze for one moment, startled from the kiss, but in the next, her eyes flutter close, and her body softens and melts into his, her lips shy but demanding. Satisfied, he pulls her into him, pressing her right up against his body. When she whimpers, he pulls his lips away and lets his mouth skim the line of her jaw, her throat, down to the base of her neck. 

When he pulls back, he keeps his arms around her. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmurs. “Why don’t you sit,” he adds, gesturing towards the plush cushions, “while I get dressed.” 

So Yong can only nod, her lips thrum from being thoroughly kissed. 

And because So Yong looks so adorable with her flushed cheeks, and dazed eyes, Cheoljong cannot resist leaning in once more, kissing her languorously, dragging his hands over her body, not quite ready to let her go yet. When he breaks the kiss again, he whispers against her mouth, “I’ll go get changed.” 

“What did you do today?” Cheoljong asks her a little later as he lowers himself onto one of the cushions. He sits from across her, looking fresh in his crisp white and gold robe. When the yellow light hits his brown eyes, So Yong can almost see flecks of gold in them. 

She closes a book she’s been reading and adds it to a neat stack on his low table. It was a book on strategy, and she found the illustrations compelling. Slowly, her gaze drifts back to Cheoljong’s face. “Let’s see…” she begins, trying to recount her day. “I went to the garden, but everything got ruined by the rain. It looks like a stream rather than a garden.” She sighs mournfully, remembering the dead chrysanthemums. 

“I’m sorry about your garden,” he says with a placating smile.

So Yong shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant. “The yellow chrysanthemums remind me of home… and the orchids.. And the orchids…” She doesn’t finish her thoughts about the orchids. She shrugs instead. “But it’s fine. These things happen.” 

Cheoljong catches the wistful underpinning of her words and makes a mental note to have the garden re-built for her. “What about the orchids?”

“They remind me of you,” she says. 

Cheoljong remembers gifting her orchids a long time ago. The memory of the orchids discarded in Daejojeon makes him smile. It seems to belong to a different lifetime now.

“How was yours, Your Majesty?” she asks, changing the subject, genuinely interested in Cheoljong’s clandestine meetings with Hong and Yeongpyeong. “I take it, you met up with Director Hong and Prince Yeongpyeong earlier?” 

Cheoljong nods. “The thief has grown more audacious,” he says. “I received reports of interrupted deliveries, of supply loads being robbed…” his voice trails off as a woeful expression flits across his face. 

“How can one thief be so capable of stealing so much?” 

“Apparently, the thief has gained some following, and maybe some reinforcements from your clan. Director Hong suspects he works with two or three more thieves.”

“What happened to the entrapment I suggested?” 

“Once the coins are minted, as you suggested, we will do so, but it’s taking some time. I will be passing on a law this week to punish anyone caught with the stolen items.” 

“I have another idea,” she says as another clever thought crosses her mind. The thief is starting to get on So Yong’s nerves. 

“Tell me.” 

“Absolutely not.”

Cheoljong lifts a brow in her direction, his expression one of disbelief. “And why not?” he asks in mock annoyance.

“I’m sure you’re very astute yourself, Your Majesty, but I’m not letting you steal my ideas,” she shoots back in feigned outrage. “If you want to hear it, you’ll just have to take me with you.” She’s been bored the last few days, and sneaking out at night just might be the thrill she needs.

Cheoljong chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I knew you had a penchant for danger.” In a more serious tone, he adds, “It is unsafe to be out at night, especially for a woman -  “ 

So Yong bristles at the implication of his words. “I appreciate you wanting to keep me safe, Your Majesty.” She pauses, then adds with just a touch of sarcasm, “Your chivalry is noted.” 

Cheoljong is just about to open his mouth to argue, but So Yong speaks again. There is a faraway look in her eyes. “Your Majesty, safety is a gilded cage."

An odd look flickers over Cheoljong’s face, but it disappears before So Yong could figure out what it means. When he doesn’t speak, So Yong continues indignantly.  "You seem to think of me as a delicate piece of china, rather than a creature of intellect. I can assure you, we ladies do not wish to stay by the lakeside while our husbands go swimming, some of us want to discover the depths of the water."

At her words, Kim Hwan’s words echo in Cheoljong’s head. Fierce. Brave. Capable beyond measure. Cheoljong has no reason not to agree. So Yong is feisty, and reckless, and passionate, such a quixotic combination of courage and chaos. Humbled, he can only manage an, “Alright, you may join me tomorrow night, My Queen.” 

She grins triumphantly, and his heart sings. 

“So tell me more about his thief problem..” So Yong prods Cheoljong, eager to know more about the troublemakers. 

“It rained heavily this year, so we don’t have as many crops as last year. And with the Minister of Agriculture too busy stealing from farmers, combined with raids on our deliveries, I fear we’ll have a problem with supply.”

“You’re a good king,” she says, in awe of his compassion and conviction. So Yong is tempted to reach out and touch him, to embrace him and chase his worries away, for nothing is more deserving of affection than a man with a noble mission.  “The people of this land are fortunate to have you.”

Cheoljong smiles at So Yong’s kind words, grateful for the sentiment behind it, but when he speaks again there’s a softer, more vulnerable note in his tone. “It’s easy to love a king during a period of abundance. Impossible during famine.”

“You’re still the best chance they have,” she says softly, believing every word she says. 

 “Thank you.” A slow smile unfurls on Cheoljong’s face, preening at the compliment.

“For what, Your Majesty?”

“I’m grateful for your faith in me..” he says, almost shy, and then as if he remembers something, he starts thumbing the books on the low table. When he finds what he’s looking for, his attention snaps back at So Yong. 

He pulls a book from the pile and So Yong recognizes it immediately. It is as familiar as her own heart. Slowly, he hands the book to her. “You told me to return this book to you, if I wanted to live,” he says softly. 

So Yong takes the book, and smooths the cover with her hands, tracing her name on the cover. “It came back after eight years,” she says quietly in reply. She never thought he’d ever return it to her.

“So Yong-ah,” he says solemnly, compelling her to meet his eyes once more. There is a sincerity there that makes her heart stutter. “I am happy it was you that day, eight years ago.” 

So Yong’s heart has never been filled with so much joy. In that moment, she feels as if they exist in a pocket of time and space, safe from the vicissitudes of an unforgiving world. 

“Your cousin, Kim Hwan.. he said, the boy from the well never thanked you…It is eight years too late , but… thank you.” 

"Your Majesty, you are always late ." So Yong chides him good-naturedly, happy tears leaking at the corners of her eyes. She isn't referring to the book alone. 

"I know," he says, his voice is gruff, but it is tinged with humor. "Forgive me for making you wait. Give me a second chance -"

"Your Majesty, you can be so obstinate and so daft … you might need a third and a fourth," comes So Yong’s rebuke, but there is no animosity in it. She chuckles. 

A smile curls Cheoljong's lips as he reaches out to take her hand, putting her palm on his cheek. He leans into her touch and closes his eyes. "Don't give up on me," he whispers, as his lips brush her inner wrist. 

----

In a darkened library the next day, a man clad in a eunuch’s garb leans on one of the sturdier shelves, a book open in his hand. His face is angled towards the shadows, as if to ensure his anonymity. He sifts through the pages but his attention isn’t on the written word. His eyes scan the library stealthily, as if waiting for someone. He shudders uncontrollably that he almost drops the book he's holding. His condition requires him to take some type of potion, but he is running low on supplies. 

A movement on the other side of the shelf catches his attention. He shuts the book and turns around as if to check the other books behind him. He returns the book in his hand, inserting it into one of the rows. Slowly, he pulls another book, creating a hollow that allows him to see who is on the other side of the shelf. Recognizing the man, he turns and leans sideways against the bookshelf. 

The man on the other side of the shelf slides a pouch through the opening.

“You don’t look well,” the man says without inflection, as he withdraws his hand, leaving the small white pouch on the shelf. 

The man dressed as a eunuch grabs the pouch and opens it frantically. He takes a dab of a powdery substance wrapped in paper, and lines his mouth with it. The shaking stops. “I’m grateful for your kindness,” he says.

“There is something I need you to do,” the other man says in his signature monotone. 

“Tell me.”

“The queen.” he declares without specifics. He is confident the sick man understands.

“It will be done,” he replies. As he walks away, the light from a window hits his face, revealing a distinct scar across his cheek. 

Chapter Text

“You seem happy to be out again.”

“Oh, it’s alright.” So Yong replies, trying to sound airy and indifferent, but she’s fooling no one.  The walk from the palace to Director Hong’s is mostly uneventful, but she is thrilled to escape the stifling palace walls, if only for a few hours. 

Cheoljong snickers at So Yong’s poor attempt to sound blasé. Her dark eyes cannot hide her excitement. True to his word, Cheoljong is taking her with him again, and while he is anxious about the dangers of sneaking out, he cannot keep smiling at her boundless energy. 

The moon hangs high in the sky, the silvery light creating a landscape of shadows and silhouettes. The air is cool and crisp with a whiff of smoke, perhaps from homes with logs burning in the hearth. The streets are mostly deserted and quiet, but in the distance, So Yong hears some drunk belt out a particularly bawdy song. 

She ignores it until she hears Cheoljong whistle the same tune. The song is about a servant wooing a maiden, and while Cheoljong probably thinks she doesn’t know the song, she does. She heard it too many times from her father’s servants. Kim Hwan loves to sing it too, if only to tease her. 

Thinking about the lyrics makes her blush and giggle. 

Cheoljong gives her a sideways glance, the barest grin playing at his lips, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “What’s so funny?” 

“That song is so vulgar… a king should not be whistling it.” She aims for an admonishing tone, but it comes out amused instead. 

He sidles closer to So Yong, and whispers conspiratorially, daring her to say the words she finds obscene. “What makes it so vulgar?” If it wasn't so dark, he would have seen the heat of a blush crawl up her neck.

 He then looks around to see if anybody is watching them. Satisfied at the sight of the deserted street, he stalks so near that his mouth almost brushes against her ear. “Besides, if it’s so obscene, how do you know about it?” 

Tingling from his nearness, but wary about having a potential audience, So Yong steps back. “Kim Hwan used to sing it,” she says, smiling fondly at the memory. 

When Cheoljong resumes walking, So Yong steals a glance at him. The shadows soften his features, and without the weight of his royal robes, he looks younger, less uptight, almost carefree. She wonders what their lives would be if neither of them is shackled to their titles. 

“Your Majesty, do you ever think about what life is like, if you aren’t a king?” she asks out loud, genuinely curious.

The question seems to give him pause. His steps falter and he clasps his hands behind his back, all the while keeping his eyes straight ahead. “Sometimes, I do. No politics, no intrigues… I don’t have to be looking over my shoulder everytime.”

“I can’t picture you as anything other than a king.” 

“I have my doubts sometimes - “

“You shouldn’t. Doubts destroy dreams.”

“When did you become so wise, My Queen?” he says with a chuckle, glancing at So Yong sidelong. The moon’s gentle light illuminates her face, and when she turns to face him, she gifts him a smile that chases those doubts away.

He sighs audibly before his face turns completely serious again. “But then I think about those who murdered my family. I think about Joseon rotting from the inside…” 

He pauses, prompting So Yong to steal a glance at him. There is a pensive, almost serene look on his face. When he speaks again, his voice is deeper, richer. “I think about the most important things I would miss out on.” 

“You mean, like the power to rule the country?” she says lightly. 

He stops walking and levels his warm brown eyes on her. They glint in the darkness. “If I’m not the king, I never would have met you.”

The happiness in So Yong’s chest blooms like daffodils in spring. 

He starts whistling the vulgar tavern song again, repeating the part where the servant undresses the maiden.  So Yong rolls her eyes, but is unsuccessful at suppressing another giggle…  this time, for a different reason. 

They walk in silence the rest of the way, shoulders barely touching, but every once in a while, he’d sidle closer, if only to casually brush his knuckles along her fingers. 

---

As soon as So Yong and Cheoljong arrive at Hong's, Yeongpyeong ushers Cheoljong towards a table at one corner of the brightly lit dwelling. They immediately start talking business, whereas Hong, who is extremely pleased to see So Yong again, gives her a tour of the place, happy to regale her with stories of his travels and the trinkets that he brings back with him. 

A stack of swords catches So Yong’s attention. She takes a closer look at the blades, inspecting them with keen interest. “These are impressive,” she says, eyeing his collection appreciatively.

Hong's eyes light up at her evident curiosity. He takes one and brandishes it while sharing wild anecdotes about the sword. He loves the attention the queen gives him: snickering at his jokes and asking discerning questions here and there. For the life of him, he cannot remember why she had once inspired so much hate from Cheoljong and Yeongpyeong. There is kindness and wisdom in her eyes, and maybe just a touch of mischief, that is impossible to fake. 

“Tell me about this,” she says, admiring one particular unique sword that Hong has won over a drunken wager. 

“The tale behind that sword is hilarious, Your Highness.” he mock-warns her, itching to share the story.

“Do tell.”

Hong beams as if he'd been paid a compliment. By the time, he finishes narrating the story that involves a philandering nobleman, his suspicious wife, and Hong’s daring drunken escape in the dead of night, So Yong is laughing heartily. 

"His Majesty is an excellent swordsman," he offers out of the blue. 

So Yong gives him a sideways glance, as a look of amusement flits across her features. Her fingers, gliding over the intricate designs of a scabbard, pause. "Is that so?" she responds coyly.

Hong nods, and proceeds to tell her about Cheoljong, of a young boy on the island, learning swordsmanship, of Yeongpyeong teaching his younger brother how to handle himself in a fight. 

So Yong sneaks a glance at Cheoljong, who chooses the exact moment to look up. His warm eyes meet hers as though she’d called out to him without words. So Yong blinks, as everything else fades out of focus, her heart thrumming at the intensity of his gaze. Eventually, he gives her a tiny smile, and holds her gaze for a fraction of a minute; a warm, tingling sensation envelopes her.

"He must have always wanted to avenge his family," So Yong says softly, as she turns her attention back to Hong. She doesn't realize she's spoken the words out loud until she hears his reply.

"His childhood wasn't easy." Hong agrees, his expression somber, but he doesn't offer any more details. 

Sensing Hong’s unease, she proceeds to ask him about his unique collection of books, mostly on war strategy. She pulls one book by it’s spine and opens it. 

“This book,” she says, rifling through the pages, as if looking for a particular chapter. “My father has the same one in his collection.” 

“Her Highness read this book?” Hong asks incredulously. 

“I like to read,” she replies impassively. “Politics, Philosophy, Arts…” her voice trails off, her full attention on the book. “You must know your enemy better than you know yourself,” she says, quoting it. She glances at Hong sidelong. “What do you think about that, Director Hong?”

Hong knows the queen is clever, but he never pegged her as a voracious reader… or someone who could quote a book on politics. “Little information is better than nothing.” 

Seemingly pleased with his reply, the corners of her mouth quirk up as she wedges the book back on the shelf.  They move silently towards a rope hanging from the ceiling. “What do you use this for?” So Yong asks, pointing at the rope.

“This is used in training to build upper body strength,” he replies, pulling at the rope. He demonstrates quickly how it’s used and So Yong giggles, picturing Cheoljong climbing the rope. The thought makes her blush. She is tempted to ask Hong if Cheoljong uses it, but thinks the better of it.

Cheoljong, who's sitting from across the room, staring at a map of the south, hears the queen's giggle and looks up. He cannot hear the conversation, but he can see So Yong smiling unabashedly as Hong explains something animatedly. The sight warms his heart. 

Tonight, she is in a dark shade of blue, seemingly more comfortable in a nobleman's clothes than she was previously. Under the cloak of darkness, she'd pass for a young lad, but when she starts moving, her graceful regal gait betrays the clothes she wears. "The clothes are an acquired taste," she told him earlier, in that signature snooty tone he now finds so endearing. 

"He is last spotted here." Cheoljong’s attention is pulled back to the present as Yeongpyeong points at something on the map he laid out on the table earlier. He is seated from across him, staring at the map intently, trying to spot patterns on the thieves' movement. 

Later, when So Yong and Hong join them, So Yong slides into the chair next to Cheoljong, as Hong plops himself on the chair next to Yeongpyeong. 

“Where are we on the thieves?”  So Yong asks, directing the question to Hong. 

Hong looks at Yeongpyeong and Cheoljong briefly before replying. “They have terrorized a few nobles, and have so far given away everything to peasants.”

“So they target titled citizens and distribute everything they steal? What kind of thief does that?”

Yeongpyeong interlaces his fingers and leans his chin over the top. “The kind that tells people the king is a feckless imbecile who cannot feed his own people.” 

“So these robberies are politically motivated; they have nothing to do with charity.” 

“That is what we suspect, Your Highness.” Yeongpyeong replies. “They are gaining influence, and we need to stop that momentum.”

“And you suspect my clan is behind this?” So Yong asks. She would not put it past her clan, but still.. cheap shot. 

The three men exchange a knowing look. Yeongpyeong and Hong are silent, seemingly waiting for Cheoljong to speak. He does. “We suspect that Byeong In is behind it, under the orders of Kim Jwa Geun.  He is limiting the supply, and is taking advantage of the farmers’ and herb gatherers’ plight.”

“Which is the Minister of Agriculture’s doing, in the first place,” Hong interrupts furiously. “He spent more time lining his pockets than addressing the farmers' appeals.”

“Your Highness, given the right.. uhm.. motivation, they can revolt against the king, or nobles would do it themselves, unless their fears are assuaged.” So Yong is surprised that Yeongpyeong is speaking to her directly without his usual hostile flair.

“So.. Byeong In. Nobles. And farmers….” So Yong says, making a counting gesture with her fingers. “Hmmmm.. one problem at a time. We need to get someone well respected from the farmers and herb gatherers to sit on your council temporarily - “

“You will grant them power, Your Highness!?” interrupts Yeongpyeong, aghast, but not antagonistic. “That’s a preposterous notion- “

“Let her finish,” Cheoljong says quietly. He glances at Yeongpyeong briefly. They exchange a meaningful look, Yeongpyeong looks away first, chastened. Cheoljong then turns his head towards So Yong addressing her in an earnest, matter-of-fact tone. “A seat in the council gives them power. What do you hope to achieve with it?”

“You give them the illusion of power,” she declares, looking at each of them as she speaks. “Up until today, the herb gatherers and farmers have been marginalized, they have no voice. Giving them a seat on the council grants them the opportunity to hear directly from His Majesty. Better they hear it straight from the king than.. other channels .” 

She then turns to Cheoljong, and adds in a much softer voice, “Your Majesty, you cannot always rely on friends, like I told you before. You must learn to use your adversaries. Worst case scenario, you remove the person from the council; best case, he’d turn out a formidable ally.” 

Cheoljong steeples his fingers and says nothing. He's weighing So Yong’s proposal, but the inscrutable expression on his face gives nothing away.

“But what is the assurance that whoever sits on the council would represent the farmers’ true interest?” Hong asks, leaning forward, his brows knit. 

So Yong knows immediately that Hong agrees with her proposal. A deceptive grin creeps onto her face as Hong’s eyes narrow. “That is where you come in!” she says gleefully. Instead of speaking directly to Hong though, she turns to Cheoljong again.

“Your Majesty, you must start building a network of spies all around the country. You start with those men who were willing to die for your cause. Send them to the most populous areas, and they can embed themselves as merchants, farmers, inspectors … anything that does not call too much attention to themselves, so long as they can easily ingratiate themselves among the locals. You must reward them handsomely, of course. They will be your eyes and ears everywhere.” 

“Your Highness, are you suggesting I go back to the south, and remain there until we catch the thieves?” Hong asks, shaking his head, slightly piqued at the prospect of travelling again. He wants a more stable lifestyle within the palace walls. 

So Yong chuckles good-naturedly. “Director Hong, I can tell, you’re not very fond of your frequent missions to far-flung areas, but I know you have a knack for gathering information. I thought perhaps you should lead this network. You’re the perfect man for the job.” 

A huge grin splits Hong’s face, preening at the queen’s lofty compliments. 

“It is a huge change… but it is a sound suggestion.” Yeongpyeong says.  His face is alight with something So Yong has never seen before: Respect. 

Cheoljong quietly reaches out under the table and clasps So Yong’s hands, threading his fingers through hers. The gesture is so warm and so unexpected that she freezes for a moment, completely startled. When she turns her head to look at him, he gives her that tiny smile she has come to realize to be meant only for her.

“It is a huge change,” Cheoljong echoes Yeongpyeong, turning to face him, “but history is never written by villains, nor victims...but by visionaries.”

Cheoljong’s words take So Yong by surprise, she can’t think of a clever response, so instead, she squeezes his hand in gratitude. His thumb brushes her knuckles in return.

“What do we do with Byeong In?” Hong asks, curious to know what other tricks the queen has up her sleeve. 

“Let me speak to him.” 

Cheoljong, Yeongpyeong and Hong turn their heads to look at her all at once. If they didn’t look so appalled, she’d burst out laughing at their reactions. 

“Absolutely not,” comes Cheoljong’s blistering rebuke. 

So Yong twists around to face him. “Your Majesty - “

His expression hardens, and his jaw clenches tight, refusing to meet So Yong’s eyes. “I said no - “

“Surely you must have a good reason why you forbid me from speaking to Byeong-In, other than the fact that you said no.” So Yong does not temper the sarcasm in her tone.

From the corner of her eye, she can see Hong and Yeongpyeong trade furtive, awkward glances. 

“Your ideas around the thief problem are sound and I will consider it, but as far as  Byeong In is concerned, you are to stay away from him.” He withdraws his hand from hers and So Yong immediately feels the loss. 

“I need to check on the….thing.. outside'' Hong rises to his feet, almost at the same time as Yeongpyeong pushes his chair back.

“I need to help Director Hong with…the.. uhm...the thing” Yeongpyeong stammers as he dips his head in a polite bow, walking backwards like he cannot wait to be out the door. They both scamper out of earshot, scurrying away like rats in a granary. If So Yong isn't so annoyed with Cheoljong, she would have chuckled at their comic exit.

As soon as both Yeongpyeong and Hong leave, So Yong turns to Cheoljong again. “Byeong In trusts me, I don’t see why - “ 

“I don’t trust him.” He leaps to his feet and moves around the table. 

“You don’t need to trust him, you just need to trust me,” So Yong replies calmly, appealing to reason. 

“Byeong-In is a brilliant strategist.” He spits out the words, as if recognizing Byeong In’s ability is a curse in itself.  “You cannot go poking around, asking questions without a clear plan; he will see right through you. You are too inexperienced for such things. It is an unnecessary risk!”

So Yong starts fidgeting with her clothes under the table, not because she’s anxious but because she needed something to ground herself to. Anger seeps through Cheoljong’s voice, and it only spurs her own. “Byeong In is a good man, if a little misguided -” 

“He is an opportunist, who enables the atrocities committed by your clan!” Cheoljong says, raising his voice, incensed. “You should not be so naive!” 

Something in the way So Yong defends Byeong In rankles Cheoljong. And then something clicks. Something he’s long suspected. Something he desperately wants to be untrue. 

“The man who kissed you at the well; it is Byeong-In, isn’t it?”  His voice is low, raw - menacing, his eyes narrowing at So Yong. 

So Yong whips her head around to look at Cheoljong. He grips the end of the table, clearly battling his temper, his knuckles mottled white. “How is that important?” she asks with a mixture of confusion and anger, still reeling from being called ‘naive’. 

“Just tell me.”

She hesitates for a brief moment before speaking. “Yes.”

Cheoljong’s face twists in anger. “You are of course well aware of his feelings for you.” His tone is furious, biting. So Yong flinches. “Surely, you are not so dense not to notice.” 

So Yong looks at Cheoljong incredulously, her jaw dropping in outrage. She crosses her arms defiantly, refusing to cower, king or not. She is still the queen, and she will not be talked down to so thoughtlessly.

“Are you forbidding me to speak to Byeong In because of my competence , or because he’s your competition ?”

For a moment Cheoljong stays quiet, chastened by So Yong’s words. When he speaks, his tone is calm but try as he might, he cannot hide the bitterness from it. “I see it in the way he looks at you. You cannot encourage his affection.” 

“I do not encourage his affection!” she snaps. “I let him kiss me once! It was a moment of weakness.” She pauses to take a breath as a torrent of anger washes over her, smothering any trace of self restraint in her body.  “And I don’t regret it. I felt so lost, so alone in the palace, and for a moment I wanted to feel cherished, wanted.” She says, her voice breaking towards the end. 

When he is quiet, she continues scathingly. “Besides, I’m surprised you even saw that, considering you were too busy looking after your precious consort.” 

“Byeong In is plotting against me!” he barks.

“And your consort shot an arrow at me!” she shoots back, equally vicious. The words she had never spoken, words that turned to shards of ice, sharp and dangerous, are finally out. 

That chastens Cheoljong a little, shame and guilt flash across his face. “Hwa Jin,” he begins, but realizes the familiarity by which he calls her. He corrects himself immediately, “The consort -”

“Yes, your consort… the gift that keeps on giving.” The catty remark is out of So Yong’s lips before she could stop them, not that she regrets saying them. She rises to her feet and paces the area next to her; she is filled with bitter, anxious, angry energy. 

“The consort -” Cheoljong tries again; he means to tell her that whatever it is between him and Hwa Jin is a thing of the past, but So Yong does not give him a chance. A look of deep-seated bitterness sweeps across her face. Cheoljong opens his mouth again as though he wishes to say something, then thinks better of it.

“Your consort cannot keep challenging me, undermining me.  If she makes a move against me again.... It. Will. Be. The. Last. Thing. She. Does,“ she seethes, enunciating the last words slowly like a vow. If she cannot keep one bully in line, she’ll never be able to look after a whole country. 

“She will not. My Queen…” Cheoljong says imploringly, trying to calm her. The anger on his face dissolves into remorse.

“Oh she will….it is just a matter of time. And unless you stop coddling her, and taking the fall for her, she will continue undermining me!” she hisses. She opens her mouth again for another caustic remark, but bites her tongue at the last minute. 

“There will be serious repercussions if the consort tries anything to harm you again,” Cheoljong tells her but it falls flat. She is no longer listening. 

She ignores Cheoljong’s half-hearted attempt at placating her. “You lied to the council to save her… Do you even know where that left me?”  She feels the tears at the corners of her eyes as unresolved hurts take hold of her.

So Yong does not like dredging up old sins, but she is too angry at the moment. Sometimes, old, hidden heartaches find the most inopportune times to reveal themselves, for the heart truly is a treacherous thing - tireless like time, but terrifying like a tempest.

“I get that you are the king, and you have every right to a consort, to as many as you like, but you didn’t have to use one against me.”

She expects Cheoljong to erupt in anger at the emotional vitriol she spits out, but he remains quiet, looking devastated, staring helplessly at the tears threatening to leak from her eyes. 

“So this thing about Byeong In, Your Majesty, you don’t get to accuse me of encouraging his affection. And you certainly don’t get to judge me, when you have punished me so callously over the sins of others.” 

“So Yong-ah….Please. I don’t...” he stammers, advancing slowly towards So Yong, but she backs away instinctively.

“I need some air… or is that something that requires your permission too?”  

He stills, just for the briefest of moments. He cannot let her go, not when she’s so furious, but the atmosphere is so emotionally charged, he realizes some distance would help them both. “I’m sorry…”

“Not everything can be fixed by an apology, Your Majesty,” she says softly, tiredly, suddenly feeling hollowed out. She presses a trembling palm against her forehead, and closes her eyes for a moment.  

Feeling the suffocating tension in the room, So Yong walks away, intending only to put some distance between herself and Cheoljong. But as soon as she is out the door, she could not stop walking, and so she wanders aimlessly, letting the dark quiet night wrap her in a soft embrace. 

Later, when the exhaustion takes its toll on her, she crumples at the side of a road, crying ugly, angry, regretful tears, realizing just how deep her wounds are.  

---

“Where is Her Highness?” Hong asks Cheoljong a little later. He and Yeongpyeong are just coming back from their cowardly fake out earlier. 

Cheoljong is baffled by the question, realizing he’s still standing next to the table; he hasn’t really moved since So Yong stepped out.

“Outside,” he replies evenly, but a flash of panic shoots through him.

Hong and Yeongpyeong share a puzzled look. “Your Majesty, there is nobody outside,” Yeongpyeong tells him.

Cheoljong blanches at the realization that So Yong is out. Again. On her own. In the middle of the night. He grabs his sword and hightails out of the room, heart pounding in his chest.

Chapter Text

Cheoljong watches helplessly as So Yong walks away. Even with tears in her eyes, she carries herself with such regal dignity. He has the overwhelming urge to stop her, to beg her to stay, so they can sort things out, but he respects her need for space. There is a time for company, there is a time for solitude. 

He replays their whole argument in his head and he finds himself, yet again, in a familiar self-loathing territory. He had said a lot of things with vehemence he had not intended. At the same time, he is astonished at the extent of her emotional scars.

Scars. Scars he is solely responsible for.

He is still wallowing in self-contempt when he hears Yeongpyeong and Hong enter the room. 

“Where is Her Highness?” Hong asks, as he walks in, his eyes surveying the room looking for So Yong. 

Panic seizes Cheoljong’s heart, even as he replies, “Outside.” They would have seen her, unless - 

“Your Majesty, there is nobody outside,” Yeongpyeong says, confirming his fears. 

Cheoljong moves before Yeongpyeong finishes his sentence. He is out the door in a few strides, fear settling in his gut. He follows the well-lit path, assuming So Yong has the good sense not venture into darker streets. 

Hong and Yeongpyeong chase after him asking questions about So Yong's whereabouts. Without turning around or slowing his pace, he instructs them to head in the opposite direction to search for her. 

After a few roundabouts, and a couple of wrong turns, he finds her sitting by the roadside, hugging her legs to her chest, her head resting on her knees. Her gat lies askew on the ground, brim up. She looks so small and so fragile that the sight almost breaks him. 

He closes the distance in quick strides and drops to his knees next to her. “So Yong-ah…” he says, tossing his sheathed sword on the ground. Heart pounding heavily, he throws his arms around her. 

She freezes on instinct, and pulls back. When she realizes it’s Cheoljong, she turns soft and pliant in his arms, letting her head rest on the nook between his neck and shoulders.

"You're alright," he says, in a shuddering, gruff voice. 

"You're alright," he repeats, but it seems as if he's assuring himself, rather than So Yong. 

"You're alright." He says again, pulling her even closer. Much softer this time, like a prayer of gratitude.

When his own heart quiets to a steady beat, Cheoljong drops his arms for a fraction of a second, just so he can reach out to frame her face, her eyes swollen from tears. 

“So Yong-ah," he murmurs, the sight shattering him to a million different pieces.

She pushes him away to rise to her feet, but he gently slides his hands under her arms, pulling her to stand as though she is a child. He picks up her gat , and positions it carefully on her head, careful not to let the beads hit her face. With deft fingers, he ties the ribbon to secure the hat properly.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but she’s as quiet as the night, refusing to meet his eyes. When he reaches out to take her hand, she withdraws and wraps her arms around herself.

“Please leave me alone,” she whispers. 

Cheoljong shakes his head “I can’t do that. It’s dark and dangerous," he says softly. Remorse burns in his chest as he stares into her eyes. 

“Well, you don’t get to do this,” she replies coldly, stepping away from him. “You don’t get to act like nothing happened.” 

His face creases in anguish. “Tell me what I need to do. To make you forgive me.” 

She shakes her head. “Sometimes, I wish I never saved you from that well.” So Yong says quietly. Emphatically. Viciously. Maybe she isn’t the forgiving type after all. 

Cheoljong flinches. He is used to insults, to slurs that besmirch his family, to everyone belittling him, to every single one of his ministers undercutting his every move. He has learned to feed off the unspoken obscenities hurled his way…but the queen’s words are, by far, the most hurtful words anyone has ever thrown his way. 

She whirls around, and Cheoljong follows her quietly. They walk in tense, hostile silence; the sound of her cold quiet is louder than anything Cheoljong has ever listened to before. They walk side by side, but So Yong walks as far away from him as possible, ignoring him completely. Cheoljong struggles to keep up, each step a dagger to his heart. After so manys days basking in the warmth of her smiles, her icy countenance feels too agonizing for him to bear. 

Raucous voices erupt from down the street, and they stop walking abruptly. Cheoljong inches closer to So Yong as a group of men approach, singing loudly and off-key. The sound, a grating aberration to an otherwise quiet evening. 

One of the men, a hulking fellow clad in shabby clothing, advances toward them. He gestures to his companions to follow him, effectively blocking Cheoljong and So Yong’s path. Two of the men draw their swords; one is tall and thin, the other shorter but muscled. The hulking man’s forehead is scrunched into a deep frown.. After eyeing So Yong and Cheoljong, he stalks even closer and smiles wickedly. 

Cheoljong feels So Yong freeze in terror. He grabs her wrist and pushes her behind him. The hand on his sword tenses, but otherwise, he looks perfectly relaxed. “Stay behind me,” he murmurs.  

He looks at the four men, sizing them. He observes the clumsy way they hold their swords, and he knows he can take them. He decides to take down the biggest one first, hoping he’s all bluster, and not at all combat-trained. 

“What brings you here this time of the night?” The hulking man says, his voice much louder than necessary. The other three men follow him closely. 

“We don’t want any trouble,” Cheoljong says calmly, all the while keeping an eye at the other three in case they suddenly sprint towards them. “We’re on our way back home.”

The man snickers. “Your clothes are exquisite. It should be enough to feed us for a few days.”

“I don’t want to hurt any of you.” Cheoljong replies, his tone grim but steady. “Why don’t you let me and my friend pass, and we could all forget about this whole thing?”

They snicker. 

The hulking man steps even closer, and without warning, he lunges forward to grab Cheoljong, but he reacts so quickly, the man is on his knees before he even realizes it. Cheoljong hits his temple with the hilt of his sword and the thug falls to the ground, writhing in pain. 

Another man comes forward but Cheoljong blocks him easily. The third one jumps on Cheoljong, but he anticipates his advance easily, defending himself  from the two thugs with practiced ease. He spins around and hits one straight in his jaw, as he kicks the other, effectively knocking them both off the ground. He didn’t even have to draw his sword. 

So Yong watches Cheoljong in morbid fascination as he moves with such feral grace, almost forgetting the danger they are in. She has never actually seen a fight before, and she is astonished by the ease Cheoljong handled three abled men. 

The fourth man looks completely stumped, afraid to suffer the same fate as his drunken companions. He backs away and runs in the opposite direction, like a common coward. At that, Cheoljong spins around to check on So Yong. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, inspecting her, making sure she’s not hurt. She nods. “We should go,” he says. He makes a move to grab her hand, but changes his mind at the last minute, remembering her hateful words from earlier. Afraid of rejection, he starts walking and checks to see if she’s following behind him. He pauses when he notices that she’s not in step with him. 

“My Queen… we need to go.”  Cheoljong says, urging So Yong kindly.  This time, he extends a hand and touches her shoulder. “It’s alright,” he says. “But we must go.”

She glances at the hand on her shoulder before her face tilts up to meet his worried gaze. He is surprised when So Yong curls a hand around his arm. 

This time when he steps forward, So Yong goes willingly. But they have not made it five steps before the hulking man reaches for something inside his clothes and throws it at Cheoljong. By the time he realizes it, it is too late; a dagger somersaults through the air toward him. He braces for impact but none comes; So Yong moves just in time, blocking the dagger with her arm. 

He watches in abject horror as the dagger hits her. He doesn’t realize he’s moving until he strikes the man with his sword. When he goes back to So Yong, she’s clutching her arm, a bloody dagger lies on the ground. 

“Let me take a look,” he says urgently, folding the sleeves of her clothes so he can inspect her wound. He sucks in breath as he inspects the gash, red rivulets streaming down her arm. 

“I’ll live,” she says, grimacing at the sting. She puts her other hand over the wound, in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. It’s not deep, but it needs to be cleaned.

With his sword, he tears a piece from his clothes and wraps it around her arm. “Why did you do that?”

“Well it was my arm, or your gut… I should think the choice is simple,” she replies with just the right amount of snark. She doesn’t want to think about what might have happened if she hadn’t blocked it.

Cheoljong bites back an angry reprimand. Instead, his hand curls around her uninjured arm and leads her back to the palace. So Yong is surprised when he ushers her away from the street, and they head to a narrow path through the trees. This must be how he sneaks in and out of the palace undetected , So Yong thought, remembering the nightly raids.

“This route is shorter,” he says. “We need to clean your wound immediately,” he adds.

When they need to pass by thick shrubs, he holds back the branches, so she can pass without getting whipped by twigs. He leads her towards smoother, unobstructed pathways, and when she needs to leap over a fallen branch, he holds out his hand to help her over. Despite the danger, So Yong’s racing heart calms. Cheoljong may have once failed at the big things, but the small things -those that easily worm their way through her heart- he got all of those right. 

It is one of the biggest follies of love: to remember and celebrate milestones, when it is the small things, the little moments, the barest of touches that sustain the heart. 

“You should have not done that...you could have gotten hurt,” he says quietly as the imposing palace gates come into view. 

“And you’re welcome, Your Majesty.” she says sarcastically, her arm throbbing. 

Cheoljong gives a quick nod at the palace guard, as he lets them enter without question. He nods in return, as if seeing Cheoljong at a late hour, in disguise, is a regular occurence. So Yong is impressed. Apparently, Cheoljong has more men in his secret royal payroll than he led everyone to believe. She steals a glance at Cheoljong and marvels at the different hats he wears - King, Vigilante, Husband, Friend. She wonders how much weight he bears on his shoulders.

“That is not what I meant,” he says, annoyed.  

When they reach a fork in the road, Cheoljong turns towards Huijeongjeon, tugging her with him. Sensing an unspoken question, he places his hand on the small of her back to urge her  forward. “I need to check your wound.”

“The Royal Physician can -”

“The Royal Physician cannot know you’re out gallivanting this time of night.” 

--

“I will send a maidservant for your night dress,” Cheoljong says, as soon as they make it to his private chambers. He motions for So Yong to sit by his beddings. “Let me check your wound.” 

So Yong does not argue. She unties the strings of her hat, and takes it off. Feeling tired suddenly, she lowers herself into the bedding, wishing she could just lie down and close her eyes. 

Cheoljong momentarily disappears behind a latticed divider. When he appears again, he has changed into his night robes, and he’s holding several pieces of cloth. He sits next to So Yong, but doesn’t say anything. So Yong frowns, as the silence between them lengthens. 

Wordlessly, he takes her arm and rolls her sleeves to examine the cut. She sucks in breath as the sleeve grazes her wound.  

She can see the scowl on his face, as he grabs a clean cloth and starts wiping off the dried blood. Ever so gently, he dabs the cloth onto the skin where the dagger struck her.  

So Yong is torn. She wants to shrug him off because she doesn't need him fussing over a small wound. She’d rather clean the wound herself than gift him another reason for thinking she’s so fragile. He would never treat Hong nor Yeongpyeong the same way. And yet, she doesn't want him to stop touching her either. 

With his eye on her wounded arm, So Yong watches him openly. He swallows hard and his Adam's apple bobs up and down.  His expression is grim, his body tense, but his hands on her wounded arm are gentle. She wonders how someone so callous can be so kind. But then she remembers her own cruel words from earlier. She had the inexplicable urge to hurt him as much as he hurt her, and so she realizes that, to some degree, she and Cheoljong are not so different. 

After a long moment, he speaks so quietly she barely hears it. “My Queen, please don’t do that again.” 

“Don’t do what?” she asks innocently.

“Put yourself in harm’s way -” 

“It was a reflex. You were looking ahead, I was looking back and I saw him pull the dagger from his clothes…” She notices that Cheoljong is barely listening so she lets her voice trail off. His full attention is on her wound. 

“I’m just a queen, Your Majesty. I can be replaced. I’ve no power.” she says softly. The hand on her arm stills as he looks up to meet her eyes. 

“Over me, you do.” he whispers back. So Yong does not miss the faintest of tremors in his tone. “And you and I both know, you are more than the title you hold.”

The lamp behind her cast a golden light around her head, almost like a halo, giving her an almost ethereal appearance. For a moment, Cheoljong merely stares at her, enthralled. 

“I’m sorry, it was reckless to wander off like that… but you make me so angry sometimes!” So Yong says, breaking the spell, breaking the tension. 

“I’m sorry, too….” A ghost of a smile pulls at his lips, as he holds her gaze.

"I didn't mean what I said about the well."

"You did." It was neither an accusation nor a rebuke. It was the response of a king so humbled. 

"I did." It was neither remorse nor vindication. It was the response of a queen so broken.

There is a beat of silence before either of them speak again… both wondering how to address the two huge elephants in the room. 

Cheoljong purses his lips, clenches his jaw and then lets out a loud breath— shoring up the courage to say his next words. He goes back to tending to her wound, wiping off dried blood that is no longer there.

“About Byeong In…” he starts carefully. “When you talk about him, your eyes go soft. I know he’s special to you…” 

So Yong is bewildered by Cheoljong’s choice of words… until something in her mind clicks. The thought warms her all over. “Is His Majesty jealous over Byeong In?”

Cheoljong looks up, embarrassment coloring his features, “I’m not.. A king doesn’t..” he stammers indignantly, but his face is as crimson as his royal robes. To his horror, So Yong giggles. 

“Is that why the kiss bothers you so much?” She says flippantly. “It is heartwarming to be the subject of a king’s absurd jealousy.” 

“This isn’t about jealousy. This is me wanting to keep you safe from your own clan!” He replies in exasperation, but when he sees So Yong roll her eyes, he relents. “Okay, maybe I am jealous. I hate that I wasn’t there when he was.”

“Byeong-In is special to me but I only see him as a cousin. Family. Childhood friend. Nothing more. I care about him and Kim Hwan equally,” she says softly, and in an attempt to coax a smile out of Cheoljong, she adds, “Would you be jealous of Kim Hwan too, Your Majesty?”

She gets her wish; Cheoljong’s face breaks into a huge smile, and then, much to So Yong’s joy, he chuckles. The smile is bright as sunlight, the chuckle, precious as silk. 

But his expression turns solemn again. “So Yong-ah.. what I said earlier, I’m not forbidding you to speak to Byeong In… You are free to go and to do as you please.  And I do not think you’re incompetent, or naive. It was wrong of me to say or imply that you are. You are the exact opposite of those words.”

His hand slides from her arm to her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. His calloused hands against her soft palm... much like the two of them. He marvels at their intertwined hands before speaking again.

“But I want us to be prudent and strategic about the moves we make. If you really think speaking to Byeong In would help, then we plan it together.” 

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I never intended to speak to him without involving you in some manner. I only meant that he would be less guarded with me. And you are right; I have no experience in extracting information the way you and Director Hong do. But I know Byeong In better than anyone else, if there’s someone who can get into his head, it would be me.”

“When your clan finds out - “

“I know you want to keep me safe, Your Highness…. Thank you.” So Yong glances at their clasped hands and smiles warmly. “But letting me help you, is how you keep me safe.” 

She pauses, waiting for Cheoljongs’ reaction. He only looks at her, his face alight with understanding.

“But you need to know, Your Majesty, that while I have turned my back on my clan,  they remain a part of me. Byeong In. Kim Hwan. My father… and maybe, just like them, I too possess an errant heart - vindictive, vicious, defiant...." She pauses for a fraction of a second to look Cheoljong in the eye, beseeching him. "You know of my dreams  but what about my fears?”

“So Yong-ah -”

“Please, let me finish, Your Majesty. You swear you want me, until you don’t. You trust me, until you can’t. It doesn’t work that way. You cannot pick the parts of me you like, and throw away the rest. Just as I accept the parts of you that belong to your brother… and to the consort.” 

There is a flash of loathing in his eyes... to himself. He closes his eyes for a brief moment. When he opens them again, they are bright, clear and resolute. When he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. "I embrace all parts of you equally: the light and the dark, the calm and the chaos, the selfless and the selfish…I want to be part of your dreams, and take away your fears.”

Such beautiful words but the turmoil inside So Yong refuses to quiet.

Cheoljong seems to know what she is thinking, because in the next breath he says, “About the consort…I did care for her once. When I came back to the palace, it was difficult.  She gave me back the book… your book . Her company gave me comfort - ”

So Yong looks away, unable to hide the hurt. Cheoljong reaches out and touches the side of her cheek, turning her face back to his. His voice turns more urgent, more vulnerable, and her heart stutters for the man who has lost so much, but still has so much left to give. 

“But none of that matters anymore, So Yong-ah…” he implores. “Surely you must know by now, that with, or without that book, I’m yours…. That there is no one else but you. That I want no one else but you.” 

He takes her wounded arm once more, and pulls out something from his robe. It is a long piece of pink fabric - a ribbon of some sort. It takes a while for So Yong to recognize what it is, until she feels its soft texture against her skin. He wraps it around her wound gently, as a memory of herself doing the same exact thing surfaces.

It is her daenggi from that rainy afternoon long ago. The very same ribbon she tied around the wound on his arm.

"You kept it" she whispers, completely astonished that he kept it all this time. Her voice breaks, as a warm prickle of tears traces the corners of her eyes. "Why?"

"Because a part of me loved you since then…. It just took longer for the rest of me to catch up,” he says softly, as his fingers caress her cheeks, catching the tears as quickly as they fall. 

“Oh your Majesty…”

“My name is Yi Won Beom,” he says softly, pulling her closer, kissing her temples until the remainder of her tears abate. He dips his head lower to kiss her cheek.

Honored and humbled to be entrusted with the name and the heart of a king, So Yong leans into his touch, tilting her head anticipating the kiss. 

With tremendous effort, he pulls back then, his mouth a hairbreadth from hers.

“So Yong-ah” he whispers before his lips meet hers, the barest of a touch. Then another. Then he slants his head to kiss the corners of her lips. When he nips at her bottom lip gently, So Yong whimpers, wanting, needing more. He cups the back of her neck, pulling her closer as his tongue sweeps over the seam of her lips, gently demanding that her mouth open to his. When she does, the kiss is slow and coaxing, his tongue gently teasing hers.

So Yong clings on to Cheoljong's collar, drawing him closer, urging him, increasing the pressure.

Hot, tingling sensations spiral through her body when Cheoljong deepens the kiss—fervent, all-consuming, desperate— as if to make up for all those times he wasn’t there for her, for the times he broke her heart, and for the promise of a future he wants with her. So Yong kisses him back in equal measure, for the cruel words she said, for the moments stolen from her, and for a future she almost gave away.

The kiss is as pure as it is searing, for both So Yong and Cheoljong recognize the portentous overtone—an almost visceral need to connect emotionally and physically.  A need to reassure each other that they will make it work, because the opposite is just too harrowing to bear.

Vaguely, So Yong feels Cheoljong tug at her clothes, as his lips glide beneath her jaw, down her throat, to the soft hollow above her collarbone. When she whimpers, Cheoljong dawdles and kisses the spot some more. When she extends her neck in silent encouragement, he runs the tip of his tongue over her pulse, sucking it lightly, nipping at the area with his teeth before his mouth finds hers again. 

His hands drag down from her cheeks to her arms, down to her waist, and gently, carefully, he pulls her into his lap, guiding her until she’s straddling him. His hands roam her back, ghosting up and down her spine, to the lowest softest part of her back. 

Wanting to feel more of him, her arms circle around his shoulders, as her fingers slide inside the collar of his robe, reveling in the warmth of his skin under her fingers.  He groans softly, low in his throat, as his hands ascend from the planes of her back, to her shoulders, and when a hand cups her breast, she moans, the sound swallowed by his mouth on hers.

So Yong marvels at the way Cheoljong’s body responds to her, at the power she has over him; she knows he only wants her. She feels it in the way he caresses her skin. Sees it from the smoldering depths of his eyes. Hears it in the way he growls her name. Feels it in the way he worships her body. And lower, where she straddles him, where she is pressed so tightly against him that it would be foolish not to know just how much he wants her. 

Without thinking, she pushes her hips toward him in a blatant invitation she would have once thought to be so forward, so unbecoming of a lady, but she cannot get enough of the sensation, of the pleasure of coming into contact with something hard and thick and delightful.. And only hers. 

So Yong pushes his robes off his shoulders wanting, craving to run her fingers over the expanse of his chest, down to the dips of his stomach, almost desperate to feel his skin against hers, to surrender to the heat pooling in her belly. Somewhere, she hears muffled conversations. Much farther, a dog barks but the only sounds that register to So Yong are Cheoljong's ragged breath and her own moans of pleasure -

“Your Majesty! The Queen’s maid is here!” bellows the head eunuch from outside. 

They break apart and Cheoljong groans - a deep guttural sound of extreme annoyance. He never should have sent for the queen’s night dress. He leaps to his feet as So Yong straightens her clothes quickly. 

He instructs Hong Yeon to leave the queen's night dress as soon as both she and the eunuch enter. 

So Yong is embarrassed but her body is still buzzing. She takes her night dress from the maid as she hears Cheoljong speak again.

“Leave us.. I will help her change.” he says with a straight face, trying to sound dignified, but So Yong does not miss the mischievous gleam in his eyes. 

Poor Hong Yeon’s cheeks flush deep scarlet, as the eunuch’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets. They scurry out of Huijeongjeon, wildly embarrassed. 

To Cheoljong’s credit, he did help So Yong dress… but not before they enjoyed undressing each other first. 

Chapter Text

When So Yong opens her eyes, the light of day blends seamlessly with the dark of night, bathing the room in muted grays. She blinks, confused with her unfamiliar surroundings… until she realizes she is in Huijeongjeon, right next to a sleeping Cheoljong. 

It certainly isn’t the first time she spent the night in the king’s private quarters. Things have settled between her and Cheoljong, and yet she wakes up to a familiar sense of foreboding, like staring up a snow-covered mountain before an avalanche. 

She shrugs off her anxiety and rests her cheek against her folded hands, drinking in the sight of Cheoljong sleeping on his side, facing her, one arm extended as if he’d been reaching towards her in his sleep. The covers lay tangled around his waist, and her eyes drift down to the easy rise and fall of his chest, to the solid ripple of muscle on his abdomen that disappears under the covers.

Sleep softens his features, erasing deep worry lines that usually mar his face. She swears she could see the pale shadows under his long lashes. She is tempted to run a finger across his cheek, to the bridge of his nose, down to that little imperfection at the corner of his lip. She takes a mental picture and commits the rare sight to memory. 

Cheoljong jerks awake looking momentarily confused, but then his eyes find hers. “So Yong-ah…” he says. His voice is sleep-rough and his eyes are half-closed. 

When she doesn’t reply, his eyes snap open. “Everything alright? You have that look…”

“Just happy,” she says flippantly, trying to coax a smile out of him. She buries her worries in the deepest recesses of her mind. 

“Good.” He starts to speak again but So Yong inches closer, trailing her fingers across his chest. The words die in his tongue and his voice catches at her touch. It emboldens So Yong; her touch turns from innocent to suggestive, finding her newfound power over him exhilarating. 

“My queen…” he mock-warns her, covering her roving hand with his own. “You’re going to make me think you have some kind of obsession with my chest.” 

So Yong lets out a snort of laughter and plays along. “One of my endearing qualities?"

He smiles- wide and full of heated sensuality - as though he knows just how attractive he is and expects So Yong to acknowledge it.

“You really are insufferable,” says So Yong, but there is laughter in her tone. 

He chuckles and they are both silent for a while, enjoying the rare peace and quiet afforded to them.

“My queen, we need to lie low for a while… ,” he says suddenly. “Those trips to Director Hong… we need to put a stop to it.”

There is something in his tone that makes So Yong anxious. She draws back so she can see his face. He looks serious. Worried.  “Is there something I should know?” A cold trickle of fear courses through her spine, and she shivers.

He shakes his head. “Since Kim Jwa Geun was removed from his post, your clan has gone quiet. They are up to something.”

“They are always up to something.” So Yong agrees. Her earlier fears settle in her gut, and Cheoljong must have seen something on her face because he slides an arm beneath her neck and pulls her closer. Another arm wraps around her shoulders, heavy and warm and comforting. 

“We will face it together,” he says, brushing a kiss against her forehead. 

“Hmmm” is all So Yong could say, burrowing into him, trying to find comfort. But neither the morning sun, nor Cheoljong’s warmth, could temper the icy fear that spread slowly through her veins.

---

“Anyone caught with the stolen goods will be punished.” Cheoljong declares. There is a raucous murmur among his ministers.

Cheoljong is in the middle of another council session, and while he is relieved that the majority of the Jo clan have been replaced by ministers of his own choosing, there remains a considerable number of ministers from the queen’s clan. Even without Kim Jwa Geun, the Andong Kim clan remains a thorn in his side. They’re probably worse than before. For one, Chief State Councillor Kim Byung-Hak is posturing more than usual. He can see the dissent, the annoying condescension painted all over his face.

“Your Majesty, people are hungry. That is why they take advantage of the thieves’ charity. You should be focusing your efforts on catching the thieves, not punishing those who starve.”  

“That’s a valid point, Councillor Kim Byung-Hak,” Cheoljong says. He can be as patronizing as they are. “I’m glad you pointed that out. These farmers and herb gatherers deserve to be heard, do you not agree?”

“Absolutely, Your Majesty! May I suggest that we send an arbiter?  We should engage them directly. Kim Chang-Hyuk’s son Kim Hyuk Ju is an excellent choice.” 

Cheoljong wanted to laugh at his audacity, but he keeps a straight face. “Brilliant advice. I was thinking along those lines myself.”

Kim Byung-Hak smiles, looking triumphant. Smug even. 

“I have selected someone from the ranks of the farmers and herb gatherers to join this council.  Like you said, we should engage them directly.” 

Kim Byung-Hak’s face crumples. “That would be unwise, Your Majesty!”

Cheoljong gives him a pointed look, then turns his head to his newly-minted ministers. “What do you think?” 

“It is worth a try, Your Majesty,” responds  Hong Kyung Min, Consort Sim-Hyang's father.

Cheoljong’s other new ministers murmur in agreement. He takes the royal seal and stamps the scrolls on his table. He slams it with more force than needed. “That means that there will be a new member to this council in the weeks to come.” 

He cannot resist giving the now-chastened Kim Byung-Hak a condescending glance. “It also means that your opinion does not matter anymore.” 

He sucks in breath like he wants to argue further, but decides against it. It is a wise move. Cheoljong’s temper has a limit, and Kim Byung-Hak does not want to find it. At least, not out in the open. 

----

“Your Highness!” Hong Yeon says excitedly, holding what looks like a neatly folded piece of parchment. She saunters towards So Yong, who is sitting in her chamber, focused on an intricate piece of embroidery. She looks up from the pink and yellow flowers of the fabric in front of her. A hand holding a needle freezes mid-air. 

So Yong decided to drown out the nagging fear in her gut through needlework, but neither the bright morning, nor her favorite pastime, did anything to light up her dark thoughts. 

Sitting across from So Yong is Lady Choi who gives Hong Yeon a disapproving glance. She doesn't easily tolerate loud tones.

Chastened but undeterred, Hong Yeon hands So Yong the enveloped paper. “His Majesty has written you a letter! This was delivered by a eunuch.”

“The head eunuch came by just for this?” So Yong asks, a wide smile unfurling across her face, embroidery forgotten.

Hong Yeon shakes her head as she lowers herself on the floor, sitting next to So Yong. “No, Your Highness. I’ve never seen him before. It’s probably a new eunuch."

So Yong opens the envelope. At the corner of her eye, she can see both Lady Choi and Hong Yeon smile, their necks extending, trying to take a peek at the letter. 

Beaming, So Yong unfolds it and sees the calligraphy in its center. The script reads:

Meet me at the lake  tonight.

She tries to hide her disappointment. She is hoping for something more lyrical, mellifluous when read. It is, after all, the very first letter Cheoljong has ever written to her. 

She rereads the letter, searching for signs of affection, as if it could be captured in a decorative slash or a flourish of some sort.

But all she notices are the bold brush strokes of his calligraphy. It looks…. Normal. Indistinctive. Like it was written in haste.

She lets it go and focuses on the fact that Cheoljong wants to see her that night. She's intrigued. She folds the parchment and holds it to her heart. She tries, but she can't hide her elation; her smile broadens into a grin. 

“What does it say?!” Hong Yeon asks, her body moving in a merry jig. Lady Choi gives her another withering look. 

“His Majesty has summoned me," she says simply, but her eyes gleam in the morning light. 

“Is it tonight, Your Highness? Where?”  her maid says, practically swooning. Because... she is Hong Yeon, after all.

For her part, Lady Choi gives So Yong a tender smile, happy to see the king showering the queen with affection. “Then we shall prepare,” she says. Her tone is more measured but no less mirthful than Hong Yeon's.

"Yes, we should," replies So Yong, feeling giddy, her earlier anxiety already forgotten. It is unwise to remain tense over a blow that may or may not come. 

Maybe it never would. 

---

Hong is annoyed. Cheoljong is sending him back to the south. If he is being honest, he did not sign up to be the king’s lackey, and he’s starting to feel like the king is taking advantage of his kindness. The most annoying part is that he understands why Cheoljong keeps asking him to do such errands. It is not an easy mission, and trust is difficult to come by. He sighs audibly.

He needs to get a handle on the network of spies the queen has suggested, if he wants a less nomadic lifestyle. He makes a mental note to ask Cheoljong about it. He has acted on the queen’s suggestions about solving the thief problem, but has not mentioned anything about the spies so far. “Those jerks!” he mumbles, annoyed at Cheoljong. And his brother.

He stuffs items into his bag, while counting the days until his return. He looks around his residence, as if to check if he’s forgetting anything essential for his journey. The stack of swords catches his eye and he remembers the queen. The corners of his mouth quirk up. 

And then he remembers the old woman who once told him that the queen refused to spy on Cheoljong. Kim Jwa Geun may be cunning, but he’s not as clever as he thinks. The old woman who he assumes to be blind and deaf, isn’t deaf at all. She isn't mute either, she can speak. And speak, she does so eloquently. She’s been feeding Hong valuable information since day one.  Now Hong wonders if the old woman has left him another message. Without second thought, he leaves for that small hidden corner close to Tongmyeongjeon where she hides short coded messages. 

It is already dark when Hong gets there. He surveys the area several times to ensure that nobody is tailing him, looking around surreptitiously before approaching the wall. Satisfied, he checks for messages. He reads the coded message and translates it in his head:

The queen is in danger.  

He erases the message scratched haphazardly, and hightails towards Huijeongjeon. 

---

“Your Majesty, it is very late,” the eunuch reminds Cheoljong. “You need to rest.”

He looks up from the scroll he’s reading, as the eunuch approaches the dais. Cheoljong has been reviewing appeals all afternoon that he had not noticed the time. Judging from the lamps and the stillness outside, he guesses it is late in the night. He rolls the scroll he’s holding and adds it to the neatly stacked tray in front of him. He will need to make an early start tomorrow if he intends to finish all the pending items on his table. 

He stares at the extraordinary number of appeals on his desk. The eunuch seems to have read his thoughts. “There are a lot today,” he tells Cheoljong.

Cheoljong nods. Something about it unsettles him. It is as if he’s being held at Seonjeongjeon far longer than necessary. 

“Would it be so bad to finish tomorrow, Your Majesty?” the eunuch asks him kindly.

Cheoljong mulls over the eunuch’s question - none of the appeals are urgent. In fact some have been submitted, and declined previously.  Something about the volume of appeals nag at him, like a nameless urgency, a trickling restlessness he cannot explain. 

“Shall we head to Huijeongjeon?” the eunuch asks, interrupting his troubled thoughts. 

Cheoljong rises to his feet and nods. “Yes.” 

On his way to his private residence, his thoughts wander to So Yong. His tense shoulders relax briefly, but then the flutter of unease is back. Inexplicably so. He swallows it and smiles to himself. He worries too much these days.

Making a quick decision, he walks past Huijeongjeon, and heads towards Daejojeon instead. His smile broadens. He can already feel his exhaustion melt away.

If the eunuch is surprised by the detour, he doesn’t say anything.  He, however, tries to hide a grin. But just like Cheoljong, he fails.  The smile spreads across his face.

---

The first thing Cheoljong notices when he gets to Daejojeon is Lady Choi’s startled expression, followed by her maid’s. His brow crinkles. 

He stops just outside So Yong’s chambers, expecting them to open the doors. Instead, Lady Choi looks at him, utter confusion written all over her face. 

“Your Majesty! Her Highness has already left to meet you!” Lady Choi tells him.

An image of So Yong waiting for him at his bedchamber flashes across Cheoljong’s mind. His lips tip up at the sides. “Did she go to Huijeongjeon?”

A shadow descends on Hong Yeon’s face, as Lady Choi stares at him in surprise. Before either of them can reply, he hears Hong’s frantic voice. 

“Your Majesty!!” Cheoljong turns his head to see Hong barreling down the hallway… “The queen! The queen!”

Hong halts to a sudden stop right in front of him, "The queen…" he says breathlessly. He can hardly finish the words. 

Cheoljong’s heartbeat picks up speed. 

"Her Highness..." Hong says frantically, still winded. "Need to… see.. Her… Highness." He stutters in a labored breath.

“Your Majesty, we should discuss these things inside,” Lady Choi interrupts, opening the door to usher them in, and closing it with a thud.

“A letter was delivered to Her Highness today," Lady Choi says as soon as the door closes behind her.

“What letter?” He asks, a sickening dread washes over him. He did not send So Yong any letter.

Lady Choi’s confused look turns to fear. “A letter came in today. Her Highness assumed it was from you.  She said you summoned her.” 

“We must find the queen now… Your Majesty… there is something you need to know,” Hong interrupts. 

“Where did she go?” 

Lady Choi and Hong Yeon exchange confused glances. Hong Yeon shifts uncomfortably at Cheoljong’s tone. “She didn’t say…” 

“Show me the letter,” Cheoljong orders them, fighting to keep his voice even. He briefly squeezes his eyes shut. His pulse beats twice as fast.

Hong Yeon and Lady Choi scramble to search for the letter. They find it in one of So Yong’s drawers. Lady Choi gives it to Cheoljong with shaking hands. 

He takes it right away and scans the text. Hong sidles up to him, peeking at the letter, “Your Majesty….”

Cheoljong’s blood turns to ice. Hong says something…he doesn’t hear it. He’s back at the bottom of the well, deep in water - cold and murky. Like the lake.

Without a word, he drops the letter and hightails out of Daejojeon, a still-winded Hong on his trail.

--

It is one of those dark nights, when the moon is conspicuously absent, but the night sky is black velvet with a million twinkling lights. The light breeze makes the leaves rustle and the quiet shadows blend together, creating strange silhouettes. Cheoljong hears nothing but the sound of trees blowing in the wind, his own breathing and his strident footfalls. 

Everything is a blur to him as he sprints towards the lake. Whether Hong is behind him or not, he doesn’t know.  

The queen’s clan. Their deafening silence. It is the calm before an enormous wave breaks. 

He runs at a breakneck speed, and his lungs burn, but he doesn’t slow down.  Thoughts of So Yong consume him. He could not allow himself to think the worst. So Yong is clever. She is shrewd. And he needs to believe that she would find a way to get out of a dangerous situation. 

He is so close to the lake, he could see the eerie gleam of the water when he hears it: an almost keening cry that assaults the quiet night. 

He feels it. He recognizes it. His whole body locks in terror at the sound. 

Piercing.

Frightening.

Blood-curdling.

So Yong's scream.

Chapter Text

Meet me at the lake tonight.

Something about the letter bothers So Yong, a nagging disquiet, but try as she might, she cannot put a finger on it. She reads Cheoljong’s letter one more time, hoping to find a clue... any clue. She sees nothing but the completely uninspired text. Her unease is replaced by annoyance. Surely, a man of such fine taste like Cheoljong, would’ve come up with something far better than the pedestrian  Meet me at the lake tonight . She  could write that in her sleep. 

She is tempted to look for Cheoljong but, one, he is in the middle of a tedious session with his council, and two, she’s too prideful. She doesn’t want to seem too eager. She folds the letter and puts it back inside the envelope. Never mind that it is prosaic, she will keep it and treasure it, for it is Cheoljong’s first letter, written for no other reason than to invite her. With that she checks her reflection in the mirror, as Hong Yeon braids her hair painstakingly. 

From the mirror, So Yong eyes her young maid who is chattering endlessly, completely oblivious of her disinterest. She has been her constant source of gossip in the palace; even queens allow themselves a guilty pleasure or two. She doesn’t know half of the people Hong Yeon talks about, but she is entertained by the sheer lasciviousness of some of her stories. She lets her prattle on, only half-listening.

“...the consort was seen visiting Dowager Queen Jo again…” So Yong snaps to attention at Hong Yeon’s mention of Hwa Jin. 

“What did you say about the consort?” 

The hands on So Yong’s hair freezes, as her maid’s eyes meet hers in the mirror. “The consort has been frequenting the Dowager Queen Jo’s residence recently.” 

Something about the information rankles So Yong. “Do we know why?” 

The Dowager Queen Jo escapes the humdrum of her monotonous existence by spreading malice, whilst the consort is a delightful treat of festering envy.  So Yong knows that it is never a good thing when malice and envy keep each other company.

Hong Yeon shrugs as she pulls a jade hair accessory from a tray. She clearly doesn't know why the two women spend so much time together recently.

“Let me see that…” So Yong takes the hairpin from Hong Yeon and examines the tip - it is blunt. “Find me the sharpest one.” 

Hong Yeon gives her an odd look, a line is etched between her brows. She is baffled by her instructions, but she lets it go and selects another. It isn’t as intricate as the jade pin she held earlier, and it doesn’t match the pale green of So Yong’s dangui . So Yong takes it and examines the tip again. It is still blunt, but it is more pointed than the other. It should be sharp enough, she thought.

She gestures for Hong Yeon to use it. “On my right.” she says. It would be easier for her to pull it... just in case.

--

Later that night.

So Yong stands by the edge of the lake, under a moonless starlit sky, entranced by the rhythmic ebb and flow of the water. She breathes in the scent of the night and lifts her face into the gentle evening breeze. She is never left alone in the palace, and so she revels in the rare moment of quiet. 

She remembers the last time she met Cheoljong at the same spot - it was by her own design: his countenance was spiteful, his words were caustic, and the mood was acrimonious. She marvels at how quickly things have changed, and smiles ruefully. 

She is too busy staring at the lake that she almost misses a shadow approaching her. Assuming it is Cheoljong, she turns around with a smile. 

Instead of Cheoljong, she sees a man in a eunuch's garb. She steps back instinctively, trying to recognize the man, but with the light behind him, shadows conceal his face.

"Who are you? Where is His Majesty?" she asks, trying not to let her voice quiver, even as terror snakes through her, sharp and paralyzing.

Her question is met with silence. The man simply looks at her and advances menacingly. Cold fear descends upon So Yong, and her shoulders begin to hunch. 

“His Majesty cannot save you,” he intones, his expression dead. 

So Yong stiffens. She hates his pronouncement that she somehow needed Cheoljong to survive. As if on instinct, a part of her she doesn’t know she has, wakes up. She sets her shoulders straight and tilts her chin brazenly, refusing to give in to her fear. 

“What do you want?” she asks, astonished at how calm her voice sounds when her heart thuds to the beat of a stormy sea. 

He doesn’t answer her question but his expression stops her. Nobody had ever dared to look at her with such cold unflinching regard before. It is the look of someone used to taking a life. 

Courage does not come to So Yong naturally. She fancies herself a strategist, not a soldier. She’s better at planning, generating ideas, weighing options than fighting… and so her mind calculated. Considered. Sized up her attacker. He’s medium-built, lithe, his movements precise, efficient. His hands are empty… at least she cannot see any visible weapon… which means he’s either planning to strangle her or…

Meet me at the lake tonight.

Her blood runs cold. He will drown her. It would look less suspicious. A queen who drowned herself. She has, after all, jumped onto the lake before. She withdraws into the refuge of her mind - she will not die maligned by her enemies.

So Yong is too busy thinking of a strategy that she misses his sudden movement. His hand immediately goes for her throat, pushing her further backward until her feet can barely find purchase. She strains to breathe as she looks into the empty eyes of her would-be killer, her fear ricocheting off her body. 

So Yong claws at the hand squeezing her neck but he is too strong. With eyes dead as night, the man lets go of his chokehold, and shoves her into dark depths of the cold lake.

A cool breeze rushes past So Yong before water engulfs her. Bubbles float out her mouth, as she struggles against the pull of the murky depths.

So Yong can barely swim; she has not spent a lot of time underwater. She cannot even hold her breath long enough. Her throat already burns and her lungs beg for air. She’d taken in mouthfuls water as terror paralyzes her. 

The water is too murky, the night is too dark, she can’t tell up from down, then her body hits a rock, restoring her bearings. She kicks backward until she nears the surface, but as soon as she comes up for air, a hand pushes her head underwater once more, holding her there. 

She goes down one more time, and clings to a rock... she pulls at the rocks and manages to dislodge one. She kicks as hard as she can, this time when a hand comes down to press her down again, she hits the offending arm with the rock. He lets her go momentarily, allowing So Yong to emerge from the water and cling to the edge. She gasps for air, coughing and wheezing. She watches as her assailant grasps his injured arm. 

She moves as far as she could, clinging to the edge of the lake, panic crawling down her spine. She breathes, trying to stay focused. Panic, not the man, will kill her. 

Her assailant recovers, and moves menacingly towards So Yong, but he is grasping his injured arm. This time So Yong scoops a handful of mud and water from where she clings and hurls  it onto his face, hitting him straight in the eye. With a strength So Yong did not realize she possessed, she pulls herself out of the lake, taking advantage of her assailant's momentary loss of focus. 

She scrambles to her feet, prepared to run, but her assailant catches her once more yanking her back and braces an arm around her neck. So Yong swiftly pulls at a hairpin and stabs him through his thigh. His arm drops as he writhes in pain. With his injured leg and his vision still compromised, So yong quickly pulls another hairpin from her now messy chignon, and acting on pure instinct and a sheer will to live, So Yong drives the gold hairpin into the man's throat, piercing right through the place where his pulse beats. 

He grabs on to his neck as he drops to the ground, mumbling unintelligible words. He makes no sound except for pained gurgles, as rivulets of blood slosh past his lips. So Yong watches with an odd mixture of fear, fury and fascination, as his eyes empty out, staring up a sky of frosted stars. Finally, his body stills, his blood dripping onto the stones beneath him. 

When So Yong sees her dangui, soaked with her assailant’s blood, the reality of what she has done sinks in. She lets out an agonized scream - a jarring cry that tears through the dark quiet night. She drops to the ground in a heap of relief and exhaustion, her body trembling. She steals a glance at the dead man one more time, her hairpin buried in his throat, glinting gloriously over a sea of the man’s own blood. She retches and spills the contents of her stomach onto the ground.

Feeling tired, So Yong slumps further until her back hits the cold ground, looking up at the stars, twinkling in and out of focus. That's when she hears a familiar voice call her. 

Cheoljong is barreling down the bridge towards the island, almost skidding in the wooden planks in his haste to get to her. A breeze tears through his gold and crimson robe, kilting as he rushes forward. So Yong thought it is unfair that he would be so lithe and sure-footed even at breakneck speed.

Cheoljong slows down as he sees her dead assailant, then notices her slumped on the ground. He comes rushing towards her, his face ashen. She hears him say her name again as he drops to the ground inspecting her. Terror fills his eyes at the sight of blood.

"My queen…" It touches her how his gaze goes straight to her blood-soaked dangui , his eyes flashing with the same thing she felt when she saw him hurled across the yard after the blast. 

"It's not mine," She says softly. "It's not my blood."

"You're not hurt?" He rasps.

She shakes her head, sagging into the safety and comfort of his body. Arms surround her immediately, cradling her, stroking her back and whispering her name over and over, the soft cadence of his voice stealing her away from the horror. 

“You came,” she says softly, mumbling into the gold dragons of his robe.

“I’m sorry,” he says, murmuring into her wet, messed up chignon.

“We need to stop meeting like this,” she jests half-heartedly because she doesn’t like hearing the guilt-ridden undertones of his voice. Because it breaks her to see him break.

“I know. We should start meeting during the day,” he agrees, and in his voice, So Yong can hear his tremendous effort to keep it light. 

"We can't tell anyone." A plan forms in her head.

"What? The physician needs to see you." 

"No, please. I’ll live,” she insists in a firm voice that takes all of her to say. 

"So Yong-ah," he says over her head, his voice pained, pleading.

"Please…"

"Director Hong is coming," he says, as So Yong hears the sound of quick footfalls on wood. 

"Tell him to dispose of the body. Quietly. He cannot tell anyone."

"Alright," he acquiesced. 

"Not even Prince Yeongpyeong," she says as Hong comes into view. So Yong sees him halt his steps at the sight of the man. He surveys the area and his gaze stops at So Yong and Cheoljong.

Cheoljong pulls back ever so slightly - an expression of incredulity crosses his face. So Yong knows he’d say no to her request - Yeonpyeong is his brother. She can see it in his pained expression, his heart warring yet again with his mind. 

"Please," So Yong pleads, curling her fingers into his arm for good measure. The only way for her plan to work is for Cheoljong to keep the incident under wraps.

Perhaps Cheoljong sees fear and despair in her eyes, because in a gruff voice he says, “For now.”

Hong saunters towards them, and he must have noticed the hairpin buried in the dead man’s neck because an expression of wonder and respect color his features, like he could not quite believe that So Yong has vanquished her own enemy. His face is conspicuously devoid of his usual smirk. 

When he sees So Yong’s red-stained clothes, his eyes widen and he drops to the ground.

"It's not her blood," Cheoljong says, as if that explains everything. He then proceeds to give Hong directions about disposing of the body quietly. When he adds further instructions about keeping the information to himself, Hong steals a furtive glance at So Yong, but other than that, he doesn't say anything. He rises to his feet and walks back towards the dead man. 

"Help me up," So Yong says, attempting to stand. Cheoljong pulls her up but her legs give out. An arm immediately goes around her shoulders, and another, beneath her knees. She yelps when she realizes she’s being lifted off the cold ground, but she is too spent to argue. 

She flings her arms around Cheoljong’s neck and tucks her head into his chest. Sighing, she peers up to look at his face. She could see his sorrow, hear his heartbeat, and feel his anguish. Her thoughts become rainwater in a cupped hand: fleeting, flowing, faltering. They vanish into a river of images.

A shroud of shadows. A sea of stars. 

Fear on his face. Love in his eyes. 

Her eyelids get heavy and her world goes dark.

__

When So Yong opens her eyes again, she's in Daejojeon, and it's bright; all the lamps in her chamber are lit. She squints, and for a moment, she lifts a hand over her eyes to shield herself from the glare. Outside, the cicadas sing her a symphony of sympathy. 

There is a throbbing pain on her neck, most likely from her assailant's chokehold on her earlier. She also feels a slight heaviness in her body. That is when she noticed that she is no longer in her blood-stained clothes, but in a clean, dry night dress. When she turns her head to the side, she sees Cheoljong stretched out beside her, his head propped up on one elbow, his eyes watching her silently. 

Wordlessly, Cheoljong sits up, and slips from the covers. He has changed too, from his scarlet robes to white and gold. So Yong reaches out and curls a hand around his arm, needing to tether him back to her, afraid for the first time, to be alone.

He gently pries her hands from his arm, and clasps it, bringing her knuckles to his lips. “The lamps…” is all he says. 

He must have noticed her discomfort over the excessive brightness of the room. So Yong loosens her hold on him, and he rises to his feet. She sits up and follows his movement with her eyes. He blows out the candles and turns off most of the lamps, save for two in the antechamber. Satisfied, he returns quietly to the beddings and sits, facing her. Half of his face is cloaked in shadows, the other half, lit by the lamps. 

Still shaken from the events from earlier, So Yong is silent, almost afraid to speak. Warm, kind eyes, the color of copper, gaze back at her, understanding her need for quiet.  

Finally, she speaks. Her voice wavers, then breaks. “I was afraid. I am afraid.” She shivers, but not from the cold.

Wordlessly, Cheoljong’s arms go around So Yong into an embrace, that even though she's terrified, and shaken, and bruised, she feels safe. 

“Me, too.”

That’s when So Yong breaks apart, her shoulders quake in ugly uncontrollable sobs. Whether it is from fear of coming so close to her mortality, or relief over getting through it, she doesn’t know. Cheoljong pulls her onto his lap and tucks her head into his shoulder, holding her tight until her sobs quiet into whimpers. 

“Forgive me,” he says quietly whispering against her hair. “I should have come sooner…"

"You came when I needed you." She says softly, feeling warm and safe and content nestled against him. 

"You were brave tonight, you saved yourself.”

She draws back, seeking Cheoljong’s gaze.

“I did, didn’t I?” she says with a touch of levity. A shaky smile tugs at her lips. She smiles because she wants Cheoljong to smile. She doesn’t like the way he looks: his brow creased, eyes hooded with worry, and his body thick with tension.

The corner of his mouth curves into a smile —an acknowledgment of her desire to ease his worries. His heart clenches at her effort to make him smile when she's struggling to mend the broken pieces of herself.

"You could have died."

"But I didn't."

Maybe so. But it hurt Cheoljong to see the inky bruise that stretches across her throat. The fatigue. The malaise that she hides behind a tremulous smile. 

He cups her face with both hands, as an odd emotion descends on his face: an agonized wonder, the kind of emotion a warrior wears after a battle is won at an enormous cost, the kind that ravages your whole being but doesn’t destroy everything you love. The one that leaves you broken, but safe. 

She snuggles into him one more time and they stay quiet until So Yong speaks again. “I killed someone.” 

The thought makes her sick. The jarring image of the man, blood sloshing from his mouth, gurgling, flashes across her mind, and she shudders.

Cheoljong must have noticed it because he rubs her back soothingly, letting a sensation of safety and comfort flow from his body to hers. “You didn't have a choice. It was him or you.”

“I know.” She thinks of everything that led her to that moment. Her whole life. “We deserve better choices.” 

“Then we build a better Joseon.” 

His words shame her, unwittingly, for her ordeal is not special - it happens everyday. It is, quite simply, the kind of life the un-titled live. Not hers . How selfish and out-of-touch she must have been to turn a blind eye on the plight of others while she led a life of utter privilege. She wished she had the courage earlier to look beyond the limits of her station, and the conviction to fight back, not because she needed to, but because she had the power to do so.

She keeps her thoughts to herself and instead asks, “What happened to… to the body?”

“Director Hong took care of it. What's your plan?"

“I imagine the people who sent him are anxious to know whether he…” her voice catches. Cheoljong's arms tighten around her.  “Whether he carried out what they asked him to do."

"But he is dead so they would assume he failed?” he supplies, speaking into her hair.

She pulls back then. She asked him to keep things from his brother, at the very least he needs to know what he just agreed to. 

Her idea takes form, then solidifies like mist turning to frost. An idea that just might rid Cheoljong of his enemies in one fell swoop. It intrigued her with its absurdity.

“We tell everyone I am not well, and they would want to know why. I want to know who is more than eager to know about my well being. Those behind the attempt to murder me will be desperate to know. Not knowing will make them antsy. Nervous.”

“And nervous people make mistakes,” Cheoljong finishes for her, his face alight with wonder at So Yong’s cunning. He reaches out a hand to trace the bruises on her neck; his face darkens then. “Sometimes, you’re terrifying.”

“I will not give them another chance again. I will root out every single one of them” she vows. Solemn, like a prayer. Vicious, like a curse.

"I will cut off their heads," she adds with a smile. An inappropriate jest. A bald-faced lie. But in her lie, she hears the truth, because the prospect appeals to her more than she cares to admit. She gasps, for she never thought she'd be capable of such maleficence. 

Even Cheoljong seems appalled by her words, but he lets it pass. Instead he asks, "What does that have to do with  Prince Yeongpyeong?" Hurt flashes across his face. “He is my brother and he would never do anything like that,” he says softly, but indignantly.

So Yong looks away. She understands the magnitude of what she’s asking, but in the palace, no one can be trusted. “Your brother would never do anything to hurt you. But his loyalty is to you . And your consort .”

He doesn’t reply, for in his heart, he knows she's right. But keeping such things from his own brother is a line he would not cross. He could lose the last remaining connection he has with his family. How cruel his life is, to keep losing the people he loves, and then possibly lose another, for the sake of keeping one.

"I am the one thing that stands between you and your consort. Surely, you must know that." 

"The consort will not -"

"Your Majesty," So Yong's eyes bore into him. "Do not underestimate the propensity of the heart to do evil." 

"Nor should you disregard it's capacity for change,” he counters softly. 

So Yong gives a snort of derision. A snarky retort forms in her tongue, but she bites it back. One day, she would tease him about the fact that he's ruled by his heart, while she, by her mind. But for now, she cannot afford to anger Cheoljong; not when she's practically asking him to betray the two people who stood by his side when he was at his absolute lowest.

“There is one other thing…” Her voice falters. So Yong wonders why certain things can cause so much grief that saying it is, by itself, grievous.

His eyes are guarded, but he asks her just the same. “Tell me.”

“If. When . When I find those who went after me, and I will, I will decide their punishment.” 

“Alright -” he agrees right away. It seems like a reasonable request. But So Yong isn't finished. Not even close.

“Even if, especially if, those who conspired against me include… “ So Yong meets Cheoljong’s eyes unflinchingly. She takes a deep breath to soothe her frayed nerves. “...include your consort and your brother.”

Something in Cheoljong splinters.  "So Yong-ah….please. Think of what you're asking me." He says, his own voice breaking. 

"And think of what you're taking away from me." She says softly, his reluctance makes her heart hurt a little.

A muscle ticks in his jaw. She can see Cheoljong's emotions warring inside him. For an extended moment, they just looked at each other, seemingly at an impasse. He looks away first. 

“My brother and the consort have nothing to do with this,” he says firmly. 

“Then you have no cause for worry, nor reason to decline my request.” she counters.

“Even if we find out who is behind the attempt on your life… we’d still need proof. We can’t charge anyone with treason based on their interest in your well-being.” 

So Yong smiles, one that is ripe with malice and retribution. “Which is why you need to take me to Oktajeong." She then proceeds to share her plans with Cheoljong.

When So Yong finishes, Cheoljong looks as if she'd confessed to killing newborn children. His eyes look ready to fall off their sockets and his mouth hangs agape. He seems so blatantly horrified that So Yong finds herself grinning, temporarily forgetting the horrors of the day.

She reaches out to intertwine her fingers with his. He clasps her hands back. “You’re not the only one capable of surprises, Your Majesty,” she says coyly. 

Cheoljong takes in her soft delicate hands wrapped around his work-roughed ones. He remembers them reaching for his own. He felt them slide under his robes, over his skin. He noticed them pull at invisible threads on her chima. He saw them coax music from the gayageum's strings.

“I hate this plan of yours,” he declares. “It’s nothing but me watching you walk into danger.” He sighs audibly, shaking his head. 

In a softer voice, he adds,  “Your life would have been safer if I had let you go.” His hands against hers, are warm and gentle, but his whole body remains still, thick with tension.

She angles her head, seeking his gaze. There is anguish in his eyes as he stares at their intertwined hands. She lifts her other hand to his cheek, turning his face towards her.  “Yes, but not better." 

He doesn’t speak for a while, lost in the turbulence of his own thoughts. So Yong thought he declined her earlier request to decide on her perpetrator's fate. She lets it go because she understands the magnitude of what she’s asking. It would not do either of them good to push him further.

“Won Beom-ah,” she says quietly, seeking his eyes once more, imploring them. The familiarity with which she addresses him, wakes him from his mental stupor. 

“I know it’s a big ask, but would you at least give it a fair shake?” 

Instead of replying, Cheoljong simply gathers her in his arms. 

--

So Yong falls asleep in the cradle of Cheoljong's arms, her knees folded, and her arms locked around his neck. He knows he should lay her down so she could rest comfortably, but a selfish part of him isn't ready to let her go, for while he meant to give her comfort, her warm presence quiets his own fears. 

An image of So Yong slumped on the ground in her blood-stained dangui, keeps crossing his mind. It is his biggest hope never to see such a horrifying  sight again. He realizes that fear is crippling, hope, even more. 

When she told him of her plans, Cheoljong was torn between horror and worship, for he never expected one person to possess the evils of a diabolic mind, and the virtues of a merciful heart.

He had seen So Yong lose her temper before, but her voice had never been like that - flat and chilling, brimming with the cold promise of retribution. It terrified him because he saw the truth in her eyes, his own need for revenge reflected in hers.  But while vengeance still consumes him, it no longer holds him in its power. It horrifies him that So Yong would become what he used to be: a shell of a person, driven only by the cold-blooded compulsion to mete out justice, no matter the cost.

He finally lays her down onto the soft comfort of the beddings. She curls herself into a ball as Cheoljong pulls the covers over her shoulders.  He later jolts awake to So Yong thrashing beside him.

“So Yong-ah,” he says gently, nudging her out of her nightmare. She jerks her eyes open and stares at him. Confusion. Recognition. Quiet.

Sorrow steals over Cheoljong seeing her struggle with her own mind. It is a harsh reality when sleep is no longer a solace to a broken soul, but a scourge of terror.

Maybe it’s the fact that he almost lost her earlier. Or that Hwa Jin once shot an arrow at So Yong and lied about the well. Or that it breaks him to see So Yong caught in a nightmare so similar to his.  Or that he cannot stand to see her so broken.

Or that the question isn’t about who he wants to keep in his life, but who he cannot stand to lose. In his heart, he knows with the certainty of the changing seasons, that hers is a love he will defend endlessly.

He pulls her closer, and in a breath, he says, “Alright… their punishment will be one of your choosing.”

Chapter Text

No one has seen the queen for at least a week, and the palace is abuzz with a motley of ridiculous rumors. Courtiers suspect that she's afflicted with a disease that she will unlikely recover from. It will be a slow and painful death, they suspect. 

Some say she is in the early days of pregnancy, but her condition is so delicate, she needs to stay in bed. Another rumor is so ridiculous, it links the queen to supernatural forces - she can only walk the night, they claim. 

One story is at least true; the king goes to the queen’s chambers every night. But his nightly visits have fuelled the rumors of her dying. They reckon he spends as much time with the queen before the last grains of sand empty out of the hourglass. They say it’s devotion; others think it’s out of remorse, and the rumormongers have a field day peddling wicked things: they say he’s waiting for the queen’s last breath so he can marry the woman to whom his heart truly belongs. Lady Hwa Jin. 

Meanwhile inside Daejojeon —

“You should not be using the falcon, Your Highness!” Kim Hwan asserts as he, the queen, Director Hong, and Lady Choi are seated around a rectangular low table, playing tujeon. 

“It’s fine; it is a good strategy,” says Director Hong, taking a peek at So Yong’s cards. His lips curve upward in amusement. “It would be unwise to use the phoenix.”

So Yong giggles as she stares at her cards, feeling particularly smug for beating Kim Hwan and Director Hong a few times. It is no easy feat considering her relative inexperience. 

So Yong spent the last few days cooped up in Daejojeon with only a few people keeping her company. Tujeon provided her respite from boredom. A break from obsessing over her enemies. 

They played a few more rounds, with So Yong stealing a few more wins. Later, So Yong gives Lady Choi a quiet command. The court lady rises to her feet, and along with Hong Yeon, leave the room so they can stand guard outside the queen’s chambers, and keep others from listening.

Kim Hwan has been tasked to monitor activities at Oktajeong. His mission is simple: to keep track of the Kim elders who frequent the establishment. So Yong thought that Kim Hwan, her amiable unsuspecting cousin would make a perfect snoop. Widely considered a simpleton, his nightly presence at Oktajeong will not raise any questions. 

“It is an important secret mission authorized by the king,” So Yong told Kim Hwan previously. “I cannot say anything more without putting your life at risk,” she added. Ever the loyal cousin, Kim Hwan believed her… and had been happy to do her bidding. 

“Cousin, what have you found out so far?” she asks Kim Hwan, as she puts her cards on the table, facedown. 

A shadow crosses Kim Hwan’s face. “Your Highness, our clan elders go to Oktajeong at least once every week, but…”

“What do they discuss?” 

Kim Hwan shrugs. “I was not invited inside the room, but Kim Byeong In was there. Forgive me, Your Highness. I did not find anything useful, but -”

“No, that is useful.” So Yong interrupts, encouraging him. “Thank you.”

“But, I think two members of the Jo clan joined them.” Kim Hwan says in a low voice. He turns his head towards the doors, as if expecting someone from their clan to barge in. 

“Are you certain? That’s not good.”  Director Hong chimes in, looking worried. “It could only mean that they’re conspiring against His Majesty.” 

“I know,” So Yong agrees. “What of your men, Director Hong?” She has also enlisted Director Hong's help. If she needs the activities of her clan at Oktajeong monitored properly, she needs more experienced men. 

“Dae Ho and Sang Jo are experienced, Your Highness. I can vouch for them. I have recalled them from their mission to the north. What do you want them to do?”

“We need more eyes and ears at Oktajeong, and I need someone to trail Byeong In. I want to know what he’s up to. These meetings between my clan and the Jo clan worries me. It won’t be long before they discover that you had the Jo clan framed for the raids.

Director Hong nods, looking thoughtful. Mournful. “I know. Kim Byeong In’s influence is growing.”

So Yong nods. She hates it but she must agree. Byeong In is dangerous. He had cared for her, held her at a pedestal, and his affection for So Yong is exceeded only by his blind loyalty to their clan and a deep festering resentment for Cheoljong. So Yong would rather avoid taking him to task, for he would not hesitate to kill a king.  Of that there is no question. 

But if it comes down to it, So Yong will not hesitate to choose Cheoljong’s life over her clan either. Over Byeong In. 

“Kim Hwan, I need you to continue what you’re doing. Keep track of our clan’s activities at Oktajeong. I want to know how much time they spend there, who they talk to… if they meet behind closed doors, I want to know who is in the meeting, and who joins them. Every piece of information is important.”

Kim Hwan nods earnestly. “Yes, Your Highness.” 

“Kim Hwan-ah, Director Hong, we cannot make any sudden moves. Please gather as much information as you can, but be cautious. We only get one chance at this.” 

Both men nod in agreement. 

As So Yong outlines her plan, the information he needs from both of them, and the precautions they should take, her expression hardens.  She doesn’t like waiting, nor does she like putting her cousin Kim Hwan out there. She recognizes that her alternatives are limited, and they have so few resources at their disposal. But So Yong had the mind of a strategist and the will of a warrior. She will punish those who went after her... or die trying.

“Director Hong… are you able to find that thing I asked for?” 

Hong sighs heavily. “I did, Your Highness, but I don’t have enough for at least ten people. That stuff is not easy to procure without alerting the wrong people. I will continue looking for it.”

“Thank you, Director Hong,” So Yong says softly, touched by his willingness to help. “If anyone can find it, it’s you.” 

She then turns her head to face Kim Hwan, “And thank you, cousin. I wouldn’t ask, if it weren’t important.”

Kim Hwan straightens his spine and gives So Yong a slight dip of his head. “Anything for you, Your Highness.  Just like when we were kids.”

So Yong smiles at Kim Hwan before turning to Hong once more. “Director Hong… there is one other thing. How did you know I was at the lake that night?”

“I didn’t,” he says truthfully, shaking his head. “I just learned that you might be in danger so I went looking for His Majesty.”

“How did you come across that information?”

Director Hong doesn’t reply right away. He seems to consider her question carefully.

“I want to meet your source."

–

Later that afternoon, So Yong gets a visit from her father. 

“I came as soon as I heard the rumors!” He says as soon as he sees So Yong. “They even refused to let me inside Daejojeon. They said His Majesty forbade anyone to enter!” 

So Yong meets her father halfway, as he saunters inside her chambers. He inspects So Yong, his eyes rake her from head to toe, looking extremely worried. “They say you are dying!” 

She shakes her head at the ridiculous rumor. “Forgive me Father but this is necessary. Come, sit with me,” she says as she ushers Kim Mun Geun towards the cushions. 

Once they are seated, So Yong tells her father of her recent ordeal by the lake. 

“I cannot believe they would hurt you like that!” he yells, incensed, but his tone immediately changes to that of worry, “but are you really alright?” 

“‘They?’ Who’s ‘they’?”

Kim Mun Geun hesitates. “I do not know, Your Highness. Our clan has not been friendly to me recently… ever since the blast.”

“Forgive me, Father. That’s probably because of me,” So Yong replies softly as she looks into her father’s worried face. He has aged since the blast.

Kim Mun Geun shakes his head. “It is alright, so long as you’re well, my child. It is my job as a parent to worry about you. A father never tires of it.”

“Father….thank you,” she replies haltingly, touched by her father’s words. Swallowing a lump in her throat, So Yong continues, “You cannot tell anyone of my true well being. Please.”

Kim Mun Geun is quiet, his eyes darting across the room, refusing to meet So Yong’s eyes. 

“They sent you to check on me, didn’t they?”

He nods. “The Dowager Queen Sunwon is adamant to know.”

“You mustn’t tell them anything, please,” she pleads. 

“Your Highness… this is all my fault.” he says in anguish, tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “I never should have sent you to the palace. Your mother would be very disappointed.” 

So Yong takes her father’s hands. “Father, please do not blame yourself. I will survive this… I am you. You taught me well.”

Kim Mun Geun's face crumples, then wraps his daughter's hand with both of his. “You can step down, My daughter. You can come home. I will protect you,”

“Father -”

“So Yong-ah, your mother wanted a different life for you. She wanted you to live a life different from hers, away from the political machinations of our clan. That was her last wish. Forgive me, my daughter… but how do I face her in the otherworld now?” 

“Father, I will do everything that mother wanted for me, but first, I must find out why they sent someone to kill me." 

Kim Mun Geun's expression turns ferocious, his eyes focused, unblinking. "Then do not rest until the heads of your enemies are up on a pike."

So Yong had to stifle a laugh remembering her own words about cutting off the heads of her enemies. She must really be her father's daughter. "I will."

"You are very brave, my daughter," Kim Mun Geun says, his voice softening. He then gives her that look parents give their children, the one where they realize that their children must forge their own path in life. 

Brave. It is not a word So Yong is often associated with. 

Conscientious. Compassionate. Capable. These have been the words most often attributed to her when she was younger. She'd been the one to toe the line in an effort to please her father, wanting only to ease his loneliness over the loss of her mother.

Only Kim Hwan ever called her brave. That was because she grabs every opportunity to show him up. Show him and Byeong In up. Never said no to their ridiculous dares. The only time she ever truly felt brave was when she saved the boy from the well. 

And so her father calling her brave is one of the greatest compliments she's ever received. It hardens her resolve. Steels her nerves. Silences her doubts. 

“Father, please, stay away from our clan as much as you can. And stop going to Oktajeong.”

Kim Mun Geun nods. 

“There is something else I need from you….  Father, tell me where the remainder of the ledgers are.”

“Kim Jwa Geun took all of it, So Yong-ah.” 

“How much do you remember? I need you to re-construct the contents of those ledgers. Start with the current ministers.”

—

For what seems like the hundredth time that week, Cheoljong loses his patience. The queen’s recent brush with death has put him on the edge. He keeps picturing two images of So Yong; one where she is vibrant and alive, running with him under the rain, surrounded by the yellow flowers close to her childhood home; and another, where she’s slumped on the ground in a bloodied dangui. 

He pictures her face - the one where she admonishes him from singing that bawdy song but giggles anyway. He holds on to it. It was the only way he could go about his day without throttling someone. 

“Your Majesty, nobody has seen Her Highness for a few days now. The council deserves to know her true condition.”  Kim Byung-Hak, his Chief State Councillor declares, pulling him back to the present. A murmur of assent from the rest of his ministers reverberates across the hall. 

Cheoljong is being harangued by his ministers about the queen’s true condition. If anything, his queen is right - they would be adamant to know how she’s doing. Unfortunately for him, he cannot use their rabid curiosity – masquerading as concern– as evidence of their guilt. At least one of them is behind the attempt to harm her, but he needs unassailable proof. 

“If something ails her, we must know immediately.” Another Kim minister piles on. “Your Majesty, you do not have an heir. Without clear succession, it is imperative that we know of her true condition. Her absence makes us vulnerable, if the rumors are to be believed.” 

“If the queen cannot give birth to a son, perhaps, the Royal Consort can.” Jo Deok-Moon, his Minister of Personnel, interjects. 

Cheoljong knows what his minister is trying to imply. In fact, he won’t be surprised if the rumors about him marrying someone else were spread by the Jo clan. He tells himself that Hwa Jin has nothing to do with it, that it is the Dowager Queen Jo’s usual malice-mongering. 

He tunes out a little as his ministers continue making ridiculous assertions about the condition of So Yong; none of which surprises Cheoljong. There is, however, one thing that puzzles him. Ministers from the Jo and Kim clans seem to be singing the same tune, as if they have somehow reached some type of alliance. The thought chills him but he keeps his expression neutral. He cannot show his anxiety to his ministers. 

“Maybe if His Majesty has not locked down Daejojeon, we would not be so brash.” He hears Kim Byeong In’s commanding voice. “We are simply concerned about Her Highness.” 

Cheoljong hates the fact that everyone quiets when Byeong In speaks, but a part of him rejoices at his annoyance. It must be killing him not to know So Yong’s true condition. 

“The queen is recovering from an ailment. There is nothing to worry about,” he says calmly, repeating the same generic statement that he and So Yong talked about. 

Annoyed with Byeong In, he doesn’t suppress a subtle jibe. “The queen has received a few visitors recently. If you are unwelcome at Daejojeon, that would be her doing not mine.”

—

After a long day, Cheoljong does some reading in his private chamber, killing time before he can go to Daejojeon. He pulls at one of the books on his low table and remembers the queen’s childhood book. He smiles fondly, realizing how look in took him to give it back to her. He may have taken the long, convoluted route, and has gotten lost a few times, but he has found his way back to her. Indeed, fate is a frivolous fiend. 

“Your Majesty, the Royal Consort is here,” he hears his eunuch say.  

“Let her in,” he says in reply. It has been a while since he has seen Hwa Jin, and it makes him a little sad. When she walks in, Cheoljong gestures for her to sit across from him. Gone is her usual bright smile, replaced by something more tenuous. Her white dangui makes her skin look wan and dull, and there are dark circles around her eyes, like she hasn’t slept well for days. 

“Sit down,” he says. “How have you been doing?”

“I have not seen His Majesty for so long,” she says morosely.

“I have been preoccupied,” Cheoljong replies almost too quickly. He wonders why he feels so awkward around someone he once cared for immensely. He wanted to ask her about the well, the book, but at the same time he wanted to give her the chance to tell him the truth. He feels like he owes her that much. 

“Hwa Jin-ah, about the book” Cheoljong says, hoping she’d come clean once and for all. He desperately wanted her to be who he thinks her to be. 

“It was a special book,” she whispers wistfully.

“Tell me again about the night we met at the well,” He says, giving her another chance to be truthful. He wants to believe that the woman he once loved is incapable of willful deceit. 

She purses her lips as a shadow crosses her face. "I couldn't sleep, so I escaped for a minute. That's when I noticed someone was trapped in the well."

"Someone was looking for you. While we were in the well. Who was it?"

"Your Majesty, it was a long time ago. I don't remember much of it anymore," she responds, a little piqued. "Why do you keep asking about the well?"

Cheoljong shakes his head, disappointed at her continued refusal to be truthful. "I have had dreams of the well recently," he says, avoiding her eye. 

"Your Majesty, I came here to ask about the queen. I have heard that she's not been seen for a while," Hwa Jin asks carefully. 

"What have you heard?"

"That she's terribly ill."

"The queen is recovering from an ailment,” he repeats the same statement he tells everyone. 

"Is that so?" the consort replies, her face betraying nothing. "I am worried about Her Highness…. and His Majesty," she adds, like an afterthought. 

When Cheoljong doesn't reply, she says, "Let me pay her a visit then." 

"There is nothing to worry about."

"His Majesty forbids visitors." It isn't a question. It sounds like an accusation.

"It is the queen's decision," he replies kindly, observing her reaction with keen eyes. He can see her inner turmoil, like she wants to say more. It made him wonder yet again how their conversations went from easygoing to stilted. 

There was a time when he felt comfortable telling her everything, his hopes, his fears, but looking at her felt like staring at childhood treasures. Precious and cherished, but they no longer belong to the present. They belong to a treasured box buried in one's fondest memories. At best, Cheoljong wants to keep it that way. It is his fear that his once beloved consort, for whom he was once willing to give up his life for, may have crossed a line he cannot save her from. 

"Hwa Jin-ah," he says softly, "You spend a lot of time with the Dowager Queen Jo."

She nods, "She has been keeping me company," she tells him bitterly.  A simple statement, loaded with the things he can no longer do for her.  

“Be wary of her words," he says. "Be cautious with your actions."

Hwa Jin looks away. If Cheoljong is being honest, he'd say, she looked regretful. Almost guilt-ridden. He knows, he already lost her. 

“I only ever dreamed of supporting you, Your Majesty. To stay by your side,” she says, her eyes downcast.

A sincere pronouncement.  But no longer a true source of comfort.

By the time Hwa Jin left, the shadows have lengthened and Huijeongjeon is bathed in shades of gray. It won’t be long before servants light up lamps, and he could finally head to Daejojeon. 

Hwa Jin’s visit leaves Cheoljong troubled, rueful, almost miserable. They are at a stalemate and he doesn’t know how to move forward. He picks up a book and reads once more, hoping the written word would offer him wise counsel. His thoughts drift back to So Yong. Don’t underestimate the propensity of the heart to do evil, she said. 

He is so deep in thought he doesn’t notice someone entering his chambers. 

“Your Majesty,” comes a soft female voice. Warmth spreads through Cheoljong at the sound he would recognize from anywhere. A stirring that begins in his heart ricochets all over his body. A sensation of solace. A fortune he would never question. 

“I knew I would find you here,” she adds in a low voice, as she saunters quietly towards him. 

He looks up, and fails to suppress a chuckle at her attempt at a disguise. She’s in a maid servant's garb and a nondescript jangot hangs over her shoulders. In spite of her drab clothing, she is as poised as always. Her ebony hair remains perfectly coiffed in a high braided bun, and the bruise on her neck now looks brownish yellow, a sign that it is fading away. A mischief of a smile colors her face. Ingenious and insolent. A woman after his own heart.

At his chuckle, she snickers, the sound reminds him of the gentle strum of a gayageum . 

“To what do I owe the pleasure of a maid’s company?” he asks, soft laughter still playing on his lips. He watches silently as So Yong lowers herself gracefully to the cushion on his left. 

“I am bored, Your Majesty.” she replies demurely, but her eyes hold an impish twinkle. “I thought you might be up for an adventure,” she adds, using the same words Cheoljong used on her before. 

“And be seen frolicking in the dark with a pretty maidservant? I don’t think that’s a good idea. My queen will not be pleased.” 

Cheoljong sees the warmth of a blush crawl up her neck. He makes a mental note to call her “pretty” more often. 

“Not if the queen spent an entire day with different men,” she teases back. There is a hint of laughter in her eyes.  

The smile drops from Cheoljong’s face. He doesn’t like the prick of jealousy in his heart. 

At his reaction, So Yong doesn’t bother tempering her laughter. “Kim Hwan, Director Hong, my father…” she says. “And you? Did you get any interesting visits today?”

“The Consort was here… you almost missed her in fact.” He says, observing her reaction. For a moment a shadow descends on her face, but she recovers right away. The shadow is replaced by an expression of detached curiosity.  He raises a brow. 

He gets an insouciant shrug from So Yong. “Believe it or not, Your Majesty, I don’t waste time checking on the whereabouts of your vapid consort.” 

Cheoljong gives her a dubious look, but is wise enough not to say anything.

“I am, however, curious; did you find out anything useful?" she adds nonchalantly, backpedalling from her earlier catty remark.

He doesn’t respond right away. In his pause, he knows she could hear the  words he wouldn't say - that while his feelings for the consort have changed, he still feels duty-bound to protect her.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me about Lady Hwa Jin, Your Majesty,” she assures him, “but I want to know if she knows something about the incident.”

“It is difficult to say for sure,” Cheoljong prevaricates, then goes off on a tangent. “But My Queen, I think we need to tell my brother soon. I hate hiding things from him.” 

“I know.” So Yong replies softly, understanding Cheoljong’s anguish. She had told her father the truth earlier, why can’t he tell his brother? She discovers that family is a tricky business. “Then he gets to find out tonight.”

“Tonight?” he says askance, his brow raised. 

“Yes, tonight. You’re taking me to that mountain hideaway of yours.” 

“Why? I don’t think that’s a good idea. Besides, how do you even know of that place?”

She gives Cheoljong a haughty look, her lips tightening into a thin line.  “Because I want to speak to Director Hong’s source, and she’ll be there tonight. You can skip, of course -”

“You what?” he says, completely flummoxed. “You sure keep yourself busy.. You’re persistent, My Queen.” 

“Your Majesty, given the right motivation, I can be brilliant.”

“And humble,” he chuffs in amusement. He chuckles, astonished at their easy banter.  “You spend too much time with Director Hong,” he says in mock annoyance. “His impertinence is rubbing off on you.” 

“Jealous of Director Hong, Your Majesty?”

“Please.” he says haughtily. A huge grin splits his face. 

—

“What is this place?” So Yong asks Cheoljong later.  

After a long and slow trek from the palace, they make it to the tiny hideaway. In the darkness, it looks even more desolate. So Yong stops by the arched entrance and gives the place a once-over. She wrinkles her nose at the dilapidated-looking sanctum. 

Cheoljong chuckles at her reaction. Sometimes, he forgets how privileged her life is. He is just about to cross the entrance when So Yong curls a hand around his arm. All traces of humor leave her face.

Her mouth parts, but she doesn't speak right away. The blacks of her eyes gleam in the moonlight.

Cheoljong braces himself. So Yong has that look on her face that tells him she's about to ask for something onerous. Again. He narrows his eyes. “Tell me.”

“I don’t know what Director Hong’s source would say, but…” She looks Cheoljong in the eye. “You said I get to decide on the fate of those who conspired against me.”

“I did.” His brow creases.

“I need your promise as a husband, and your word as a king," she says softly, her eyes imploring. Her words are wrought by a soft heart gilded in steel.

“What’s the difference?” His scowl deepens, resisting the urge to sigh. He wonders why So Yong is being so pedantic but he keeps his thoughts to himself. It would be unwise to provoke a tenacious So Yong.

“The promises of a husband bend to the vagaries of time, but the word of a king is the law.” 

“On my word as a king,” he says in a heartbeat. 

So Yong smiles so wide, Cheoljong almost forgets about their precarious situation. 

When they walk in later, they find Prince Yeongpyeong sitting by the fire; behind him is a small, crudely built shack. 

“Your Majesty,” he says as he rises to his feet. His gaze stops at So Yong, clearly startled to see her up and about. “Your Highness,” he says in greeting, but says nothing more. 

Yeongpyeong and Cheoljong exchange cryptic looks, and then a subtle tip of the chin- the slightest of gestures, but neither say a word. 

So Yong sits on a log close to the fire and looks up, admiring the clear sky, an almost half moon hangs high in the heavens. The three of them remain quiet, as is everything else, save for the cackle of the fire and the ambient sound of nature. 

Dressed in black, Cheoljong lowers himself to the ground next to So Yong. “You’re quiet,” he says. 

“Long walk,” she replies, still gazing up at the twinkling inky skies. 

A  minute later, they see Director Hong, accompanied by a woman, cross the entryway. The woman, whose face is mostly obscured by a light jangot , has a hand curled at Director Hong’s arm, almost leaning on to him as they walk. 

When they come closer, the fire illuminates her features, showing a face sculpted by time, and a countenance shaped by experience. So Yong notices her impaired sight, and she almost feels sorry for asking the woman to walk up the mountain in the dark. 

Director Hong acknowledges all three of them, then speaks to the woman. “His Majesty and Her Highness are both here,” he says. 

The woman bows in reverence, “Your Majesty, Your Highness.” She says quietly, then adds, “I am pleased to know you are well, Your Highness.”

So Yong walks towards the woman and touches her arm. “Thank you for saving my life,” she says earnestly. 

The woman remains still but a ghost of a smile crosses her face. “I understand you have questions for me,” she says. “I cannot be gone for too long.” 

“I do, and I would understand if you refuse to answer, but I need to know. How did you find out about the threat on my life?” 

“I was there when they planned it,” she replies evenly. 

“Who did?”

“The Grand Dowager Queen and her brother, Lord Kim Jwa Geun” she says without missing a beat. 

“Do you know why?”

"Why does the Andong Kim clan ever do anything, Your Highness?" She responds bitterly. "To lord over the rest of us, obviously." And then in a more measured tone, the woman adds, “My apologies, Your Highness. They learned about what you did for the banquet.” 

“They had me killed for saving the banquet?” So Yong repeats incredulously, wincing.

“What else have you heard?” So Yong hears Cheoljong ask. A muscle ticks in his jaw.

From So Yong's vantage point, she can see Yeongpyeong, and she wonders why the prince is looking ashen, almost on the verge of panic. He's shifty and he has the look of someone bracing for disaster. 

“They found out about the ledgers.” 

“How did they find out about the queen’s role on the ledgers?” Cheoljong asks again. He and So Yong share a look. 

“Your Majesty…..” the woman hesitates. 

So Yong steps closer, takes her hand, and wraps it in hers. “Please, you must tell me,” she says softly. 

“Tell her. That’s a royal command.” Cheoljong adds quietly, hands clasped behind his back, his chin lifted high. There is something imperious about the quiet way he speaks that not even a fidgety Yeongpyeong dare to contradict him. 

So Yong holds her breath, and for a moment there was silence. Like the ominous quiet between a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder. 

“Someone told Lord Jwa Geun everything.” she says almost hesitantly.

“Who did?” So Yong prods, desperate to find out who gave Queen Sunwon and Kim Jwa Geun the right motivation to drown her in the lake.  

“The Royal Consort, Lady Hwa Jin.” 

Chapter Text

“The Royal Consort. Lady Hwa Jin,” the older woman says. Her face is tranquil, filled with certainty. Her voice is quiet, no louder than the cackle of the campfire. But in the stillness of the hideaway, the weight of her words settle like heavy frost. It rattles Cheoljong and frightens Yeongpyeong.

Cold realization of Hwa Jin’s true nature comes to Cheoljong in trickles, and then it crashes on him like a waterfall - heavy, roaring, incessant. A rush of images flash across his mind. 

The courtyard.

So Yong on her knees. Pleading. Beseeching the grand dowager queen. “ I was trying to take my own life,” she said. 

Hwa Jin telling him about the lake, of So Yong threatening her, of Hwa Jin leaving her to drown.

The lake.

So Yong in a bloodied dangui.

Hwa Jin riffling through the pages of Dongmongseonseup.

Something fractures inside him. Something irrevocable. And suddenly he feels everything all at once. Betrayal. Rage. Grief. Resentment. Regret. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices So Yong clench her fist, a stark contrast to her otherwise calm exterior. Her eyes are fixed on something in the distance, the campfire reflected in her eyes. There is no mistaking the emotion there; it is a common idiosyncrasy among her clan. Bloodthirst.

Do not underestimate the propensity of the heart to do evil. Her words ring in his ear. 

“Are you certain?” It is Hong who speaks first. He looks at the woman with an intensity Cheoljong has not seen before. 

But the woman, visually impaired that she is, maintains a blank stare. A ghost of a smile appears on her face. “Yes,” she says simply, without embellishment, without the empty pledges that liars often make.

Yeongpyeong is unusually quiet as he lowers himself back to the same log he was sitting on previously. He stares blankly at the fire as an emotion akin to surrender colors his face. 

Cheoljong turns his head towards his brother as another realization dawns on him. An icy mist spreads over his chest, betrayal piercing his lungs. “You knew.” 

He doesn’t deny it. When he looks at Cheoljong, the look of surrender turns to accusation. To rancour. Yeongpyeong is about to say something but changes his mind at the last minute. 

“I should go, before anyone notices I’m gone too long,” the older woman says, lifting the garment over her head once more. She makes a courteous bow and curls a hand around Hong’s arm. 

“Thank you,” Cheoljong hears So Yong speak softly. He is surprised to see her wrap the woman in a soft embrace. “I hope to repay your kindness one day.”

“You know where to find me, if you need me, Your Highness,” she says in reply before she turns around.

Hong eyes So Yong, Cheoljong and Yeongpyeong, almost afraid to leave all three of them on their own, but Cheoljong gives him a slight nod. With that, he turns on his heel and leads the old woman away. 

Deafening silence descends on the three of them once more. When So Yong turns her head towards Cheoljong, he looks away. Nevertheless, he feels the stifling weight of her onyx eyes. 

—

So Yong can feel the icy fury in her veins. She’s itching once more to drive something sharp into the throat of someone, but anger, probably her biggest flaw, cannot help her. She focuses on her rage, and channels it by picturing an outcome she wants. She thinks of the consort and all her transgressions, then she searches her mind for creative ways to exact her vengeance. She finds it. She smiles. 

She steals a glance at the two brothers who, for the first time, seem to be shooting daggers at each other. She is tempted to turn around and leave Cheoljong and Yeongpyeong to their own devices, but she is uncertain of her way back to the palace. And there is that worry that the two might end up killing each other. 

“Spar with me,” she hears the older of the two brothers speak. The voice pulls her back to the present. She saunters closer, her gaze seesawing between Cheoljong and Yeongpyeong. She realizes that perhaps it is a thing between two brothers to challenge each other in a fist fight. She decides not to throw herself in the middle, knowing her intervention would only incense at least one of them. 

“I’m in no mood for your silly games,” Cheoljog snaps. He turns away from Yeongpyeong, but she can feel Cheoljong seething with anger. 

Yeongpyeong refuses to give in. He calls Cheoljong back,  “There is a game we used to play, back when we were children. Whoever steps on the other’s shadow first, wins the game. If you don’t want to play, then you forfeit and you lose.”

Before So Yong can understand what’s happening, Yeongpyeong swings at Cheoljong, to which the king blocks easily. So Yong watches the juvenile display with an odd mixture of morbid fascination and mild annoyance.

“The royal consort cared about you, but you pushed her away.” Yeongpyeong accuses Cheoljong bitterly. “You gave her no choice!”

“There is always a choice!” Cheoljong yells back. 

It seems to incense Yeongpyong even more. He sneaks a jab at Cheojong’s middle, as the king swings a mean little hook, hitting the prince square in the jaw. They continue to trade blows as one brother tries to out-maneuver the other. 

“You should be more distressed.” Yeonpyeong demands angrily. “You won’t be king without the consort!” 

“He won’t be king if he died in the well,” So Yong bellows, rage taking over her. She’s had it with the childish fight, with the overbearing prince. Of his misplaced anger. 

The two brothers who seem to have forgotten about her presence break apart instantly. She walks closer and puts herself between Cheoljong and Yeongpyeong. Facing Yeongpyeong, she speaks in a more measured voice, the same silky tone Kim Jwa Geun uses before deciding on someone’s life. “Prince Yeongpyeong, you don’t like me. I don’t like you either, but I tolerate your presence because of His Majesty.”

“My queen, please. We should go.” She hears Cheoljong’s imploring voice, his hand curling on her arm, as if to steer her away. 

“I’m not done, Your Majesty.” she snaps at Cheoljong, wrenching her arms away from his grip. She then glares at Yeongpyeong one more time. “The consort gave away your secrets to your sworn enemy, and you knew about it. Actions have consequences, Prince Yeongpyeong. What if it came at the cost of His Majesty’s life?”

The prince does not reply; he merely looks at So Yong defiantly, his eyes blazing. She can feel Cheoljong tense behind her, seemingly ready to swing should Yeongpyeong behave improperly towards her. 

“You see betrayal in the king, in others, but not in yourself. How noble,” she continues, taunting him. 

She can feel Cheoljong’s hand on the plane of her lower back, attempting to steer her away from his brother, but So Yong stands her ground. She steps even closer to Yeongpyeong and looks him straight in the eye. In spite of everything he said, So Yong knows the prince loves his brother. Insults will not work on him, but perhaps remorse will. Such is the nature of love sometimes. 

“Prince Yeongpyeong, how can your own betrayal not shame you?” 

She knows her words get to him because Yeongpyeong suddenly looks lost, humbled, guilty - a picture of a broken man.  But So Yong isn’t finished. She raises her chin imperiously, and fixes the prince with her iciest glare yet.

“I have been patient with your insolence, Prince Yeongpyeong, because you saved my life in the lake that day. But I saved your brother from that well. We are square,” she says softly. 

And because she is bloody Kim So Yong, her father’s daughter, a member of the much-feared Kim Clan, the Queen of Joseon, she adds haughtily, “Do not ever cross me, or His Majesty again, Prince Yeongpyeong, or I will have your head on a bag stained with your own blood.” 

With that she spins on her wheel and walks away, an astonished Cheoljong in her wake. 

—

The next day, So Yong is at Daejojeon flocked by her maids, scrambling to fix her hair, adorning it with gold and jade hairpins. Hong Yeon shows her a collection of cosmetics, as another maid colors her cheeks, and then another paints her lips. The gold of her black dangui glimmers as it catches the morning light.  

She stares at her reflection. It is time to come out of hiding. It is time for bloody retribution. 

“Your Highness!” Lady Choi enters the room hurriedly. “The consort is at Seonjeongjeon. We should go now.” 

A wicked smile curves So Yong’s scarlet lips. How predictable , she thought. She had planned to summon her, but a better opportunity presented itself. Out loud, she says, “Good. Get someone from the Depart of Justice, like we’ve discussed.” 

Lady Choi nods and takes her leave immediately. 

So Yong suspected that the consort would come running to Cheoljong as soon as she realizes she is out of moves. She won’t be surprised if that rat Yeongpyeong has convinced her to do so. She is probably right.

So Yong had bribed eunuchs and servants so they tell her as soon as they get a whiff of the consort’s scent in either Seonjeongjeon or Huijeongjeon. It is not that she doesn’t trust Cheoljong to keep his word, it is that she knows the king too well. Remorse is his fatal flaw. He gets easily stymied by his irrational need to protect others - the consort especially. So Yong is not taking any chances.

She gives herself one last satisfied glance at the mirror, then spins on her heel. When she arrives at Seonjeongjeon a little later, the head eunuch immediately moves to open the door for her. She gestures for him to stop. “Who is inside?”

“Prince Yeongpyeong and the consort, Your Highness” the eunuch replies. 

“Announce me,” she says. 

The eunuch gives her a stunned look. After months of barging into the king’s chambers, they have gotten used to not announcing her. She gives the eunuch a warm smile in response. She will grant the consort the courtesy of hearing her presence being announced, perhaps, for the last time. 

“Her Highness, the Queen is here.” the eunuch hollers before sliding the doors open. 

She doesn’t bother to wait for Cheoljong’s reply, she enters the king’s chambers and true enough, she finds the errant consort and the dour prince. Cheoljong is seated on the dais, whilst the consort dressed in bright pink, stands close to the railing facing the king. Yeongpyeong is standing a few steps behind the consort. They all turn to look at her. 

She moves towards the dais deliberately slow, as all eyes fall on her. To her right she can see the consort looking disconsolate. Her eyes are bare and swollen from crying; her skin is wan and dull. Regret is not a good look on you , she almost says, but reins in the spiteful comment. 

“My Queen,” Cheoljong starts, his face betraying nothing. “The consort has requested to leave the palace.”

So Yong glances sideways to look at Hwa Jin. She is tempted to burst into laughter at the audacity of the consort to ask for a graceful exit. “Actions have consequences, Royal Consort, and you don't get to be so lucky to select your punishment.” 

Hwa Jin’s head whips around, and in her eyes, So Yong can see festering resentment and defiance. 

Undaunted, So Yong stares her down. “You have conspired against me and betrayed his Majesty. That is treason.” 

Cheoljong sits quietly, watching everything unfold. His eyes dart nervously between So Yong and Hwa Jin. 

“I would never betray His Majesty,” Hwa Jin glares at So Yong and shoots back indignantly. She turns her attention back to Cheoljong, pleading. “I never meant to betray you, Your Majesty.”

So Yong resists the urge to roll her eyes. “No, of course not. You went after me.” She pauses to observe the consort’s reaction. Hwa Jin’s lips tighten into a straight line and her nostrils flare. 

So Yong continues,  “You told Kim Jwa Geun about the ledgers. What you fail to realize, Lady Hwa Jin is that you have also put both His Majesty’s regency and life at risk.” 

The consort ignores So Yong, and addresses the king. Her tone is grim, but steady, her chin held high in subtle defiance. “Your Majesty, I would like to leave the palace. When I moved here, I only wanted to support you, but seeing that Her Highness is already that to you, I wish to find my own path now.”

“Royal Consort…” Cheoljong says calmly. So Yong can see the anguish behind his eyes. She can feel him torn between his promise to her, and sympathy for the doleful-looking consort.  It vexes So Yong.

“Royal Consort… I have promised the queen that the punishment of those who conspired against her will be decided by the queen herself.”

Hwa Jin’s expression falls. She trembles, cold reality sinking in. 

With the consort’s pleading gaze still on Cheoljong, So Yong interrupts, her measured tone betraying the simmering anger just underneath.  “Royal Consort, tell me why I shouldn’t have your head on a pike and paraded on the streets of Hanyang.” 

Hwa Jin blanches. “Your Majesty!” she cries, sending Cheoljong another pleading look.

Cheoljong’s face is unreadable, his brown eyes inscrutable. He’s gone very still but So Yong can see his clenched fists, his skin mottled white. 

“His Majesty cannot help you.” She says icily, turning her head towards the trembling consort. 

“Your Majesty, this is preposterous.” So Yong hears Yeongpyeongs voice from behind her.

“Prince Yeongpyeong. It would bode well for you to keep your mouth shut, or I would assume you conspired with the consort.” She doesn’t deign the prince a look, her stare is fixed on Hwa Jin. “But I would be happy to think of a fitting punishment for you too, if you so insist.”

Yeongpyeong’s protests die on his lips. He sends Cheoljong a pleading look of his own, but the prince knows the king’s hands are tied. The woman of his heart is at the mercy of the queen. 

"Your Highness.. You.. That's not.." Hwa Jin stammers. 

"It amuses me to see you fumble for words, Royal Consort." 

Hwa Jin glowers at So Yong and implores Cheoljong once more. “Your Majesty, please. I regret my actions. I have lost my way, and I wish only to find it once more.”

So Yong almost feels sorry for the consort, for in her tears she sees the sincerity of her regret. But it is too late to forgive and forget. 

At the corner of her eye, So Yong sees Cheoljong’s face fall. She can feel his distress. He meets her eyes, and in his eyes, she can see the temptation to renege on his promise to her. So Yong holds his gaze, daring him, taunting him. He looks away. 

At that she faces Hwa Jin once more, and in a measured voice, almost kind, she says. “I want you to know Lady Hwa Jin, that when you walk out that door, I will never think of you again. You, on the other hand…  I will be your first thought in the morning, and your last before you sleep. You will think of me with every hardship that befalls you, for the rest of your life.” 

“And how long might that be?” she says fearfully, meeting So Yong’s eyes.

“Long, I hope.” So Yong replies softly, and with that she turns her head towards Cheoljong.

“Your Majesty, the Royal Consort put my life at risk. Willingly. Deliberately. She connived with Kim Jwa Geun with malicious, calculated intent.”

So Yong takes a deep breath and meets Cheoljong’s eyes unflinchingly. 

“For conspiring against me, for betraying His Majesty, for treason, I understand that the punishment is death, but I don’t wish the consort to be harmed in such a manner.” She sees Cheoljong breathe a sigh of relief, but she’s not finished. Far from it. 

“However, I ask that Lady Hwa Jin be stripped off her title and be demoted to the class of a slave. She will be shipped off tonight and sold to the highest bidder in the farthest provinces of Joseon. She is forbidden to ever return to Hanyang. If caught, she will be shipped as a goodwill offering to the emperor of Kyoto. I hear the Tokugawa shogunate is looking for female slaves.”

Cheoljong’s face falls and she hears Yeongpyeong’s sharp intake of breath. But So Yong still has more to say.

“Anyone helping her…. Anyone who goes against my wishes,” She pauses to turn her head to look at the prince, “and that includes you, Prince Yeongpyeong, will suffer the same fate.”

So Yong watches with vindictive pleasure as Yeongpyeong meets her eyes. Loathing. Fearful. Not for himself. But for the woman he loves.

Cheoljong runs a hand across his face. A part of him wants to grant the consort her wishes to simply leave the palace at her own terms. So Yong can see it in the set of his jaw. 

She holds his gaze, and in it she says the words she does not say out loud, his promise to her. She wanted him to honor it without her reminding him. That’s when she sees it, the moment Cheoljong’s expression dims, the moment he concedes. He nods—the slightest of gestures, an almost imperceptible dip of the head.

“As you wish, My Queen.” Cheoljong says, almost a whisper. He repeats So Yong’s words, as Hwa Jin sinks to her knees, her shoulders quaking with each sob. “Actions have consequences, Hwa Jin-ah.” He takes a deep breath. “You live, consider it the last of my mercies,” he finishes, his face an emotionless mask.

“You didn’t have to be kind to me, Jo Hwa Jin,” So Yong says softly, as she looks down at the woman who just lost everything. “But you didn’t have to gamble with my life either. You should at least take comfort in the fact that you have brought this upon yourself.”

“I will escort her back to the Royal Villa,” Yeongpyeong volunteers, bending to help Hwa Jin rise to her feet, his arms coming around the trembling woman.

“No, You will not, Prince Yeongpyeong.” She snaps. Both Yeongpyeong and Cheoljong look at her in surprise. “The Royal villa is not a place for slaves . Kim Byeong In’s men are outside. She will be taken away as prisoner.” 

“My Queen! Please…” Cheoljong leaps to his feet and steps down from the dais. “Do you really have to do that?” 

It is an overkill , So Yong knows. But her father's words echo in her mind. You must crush your enemies completely… if tended to, even dying embers can burn down a house.

“Do you think she should be given special treatment? This woman who put my life in danger?” Her voice is sharp and her eyes almost glow in defiance.

For a moment it looks as if Cheoljong wants to argue but decides against it. Finally, he shakes his head in response to So Yong’s question. 

At that, she marches towards the door and slides it open. She finds Lady Choi and a few of Kim Byeong In’s men waiting outside. She gives Lady Choi a small triumphant smile, to which she acknowledges with a subtle smile of her own. “Please take the woman as prisoner,” she tells the soldiers. 

“Your Majesty, please..” Hwa Jin begs as soldiers escort the disgraced consort outside Seonjeongjeon. Prince Yeongpyeong and Cheoljong watch in abject horror as the men drag her away.

So Yong stares at the piteous sight of Jo Hwa Jin, astonished at the absence of grief in her heart. She cannot find regret either. Not even a shred of remorse. Briefly, she wonders what kind of person she is to cause someone’s suffering and feel nothing but cold-blooded satisfaction.

Yeongpyeong leaves shortly, crestfallen. He walks out of Seonjeongjeon in a daze.

When So Yong and Cheoljong are both alone, Cheoljong plops down on his throne looking totally dejected. “Was that really necessary? You took away every shred of her dignity,” he says tiredly.

I didn't realize she had any, her vindictive mind supplies for her, but she keeps it to herself. There is no need to keep poking a beaten adversary.

“You resent me,” So Yong replies instead. An observation, not an accusation.

When he clenches his jaw, clearly reining in his temper, So Yong braces herself for another explosive argument.

“How is that justice? You used my promise as a tool for your personal vendetta," he says sadly, his eyes trained on the floor of the dais. She can feel the anger in his voice, mostly to himself. But it chafes So Yong just the same. She clenches her fists to keep her tears at bay.

Perhaps, he realizes his words hurt So Yong because in the next breath he says, “It is my fault. Not yours.”

But So Yong’s unshed tears are not from hurt but unexpressed anger. Frustration. It annoys her that Cheoljong continues to blame himself for the sins of others.

“Do you know why I wanted to decide on the punishment of those who conspired against me?” 

Cheoljong looks at So Yong briefly then shakes his head. He looks so desolate, so weary, that she wonders if there's anything she can do, or say, to comfort him, to bridge the gulf between them. But the gift of words, of comfort, is Cheoljong's strength, not hers. 

“Because I don't trust the consort, and Prince Yeongpyeong."  The moment she says those words, she realizes that she had just made the situation worse, so she tries to backpedal, to make amends, but she wonders yet again if she has chosen the right words.

“And I didn’t think you would be fair, that you would punish them in the same manner you would punish others. A king… a sage king should dole out charities and mete out punishments equally, regardless of affinity.”

Cheoljong’s silence prompts So Yong to speak further. She tries to keep her tone calm, kind –beseeching even– for it feels as if she’s approaching a wounded animal.

“Your Majesty…. You are guided by guilt. It is your greatest flaw, and I want to absolve you from it. So go ahead, if you must blame someone, blame me, not yourself.” 

"It is dangerous for a woman to be a slave, especially outside Hanyang,” he says. There is a sad faraway look in his eyes.

"I fear that the palace grounds are just as dangerous, like the lake…" So Yong demurs.

When Cheoljong does not reply, she moves closer to the dais. The wooden railing separates them, and she is uncertain whether she is grateful for the barrier or not. Softly, she says, “Your Majesty, you cannot let remorse dictate the terms of your life. The consort is a rational creature. You are not responsible for her failings, just as you will not take credit for her virtues.”

“I am aware of that,” he says quietly, but to So Yong’s ears, the words lack conviction. 

“It hurts me to see you so hurt, just as it breaks you to see me so broken, and I do wish to comfort you, but not when it comes to Hwa Jin’s punishment. That would make me Joseon’s biggest hypocrite.” She pauses, letting her words sink in. “And I will not apologize for doing what you are afraid to do. For neutralizing a threat to my life, to your regency.”

At Cheoljong’s silence, So Yong releases an exasperated sigh and continues. This time she doesn’t bother softening her words, or her tone. 

“I do not have the luxury of sentimentality, nor the time to weigh the ramifications of taking a life. And frankly, Your Majesty, neither do you. Our enemies are closing in, so please dust yourself up. I do not wish to face them on my own, but I will, if I have to.”

With that So Yong spins on her heel and leaves Cheoljong to his thoughts. To his worthless sentimental thoughts. 

—

At Daejojeon, a few days later

It's almost dusk, and So Yong has not seen or heard from Cheoljong for a few days since that fateful morning she sent Jo Hwa Jin away. It annoys her to no end. Perhaps Cheoljong has spent too much time sitting on that uncomfortable throne. Its lack of lumbar support has turned Cheoljong into a spineless weasel. 

Once upon a time, So Yong was happy to sit by the sidelines and let Cheoljong take the lead in bringing down the diabolic aristocracy that was her clan. But she's had it. She's been dancing on the sharp edge of a sword far too long. If Cheoljong is too busy licking his wounds, then she will just have to step onto the shoes of the king. 

Her heart protests at her harsh thoughts, but she pushes it down. She focuses on the task at hand instead. 

“Your Highness, these are the ledgers you requested,” Hong says, pulling her out of her reverie.  If Hong heard about Hwa Jin, he makes no mention of it. He drops three books on the low table.

So Yong takes the ledgers and scans through the pages, impressed. “This is great work, Director Hong.” 

“Your father’s memory is sharp, Your Highness.” he says in reply. “We copied everything from what he’s given us. The information is damning. I wish we had the originals.”

So Yong gives him a wicked smile. “Hong Yeon, hand me the ledger,” she tells her maid. If So Yong isn’t so caught up in her plans, she would have seen the furtive looks her maid gives Hong. 

A look of surprise crosses Hong’s face, as Hong Yeon hands So Yong the ledger she had previously kept for herself. “One legit ledger will make the counterfeit copies look real,” she says.

“You’re too clever for your own good, Your Highness.” Hong says in jest as he takes the last remaining original from So Yong. “You hid this from us,” he adds. There is a slight accusation in his tone, but it is mostly dark awe, the kind you reserve for an enemy you have learned to respect. 

So Yong chuckles. “What happened to the Chief Royal Secretary?” So Yong asks. The sniveling prick has always annoyed her, so she made him an integral part of her plan.

“Probably sleeping, as we speak.” Hong replies, chuckling. "Dae Ho and Sang Jo should have him." 

“...and the other thing?” 

Hong gives So Yong his signature smug smile. “I have enough.” And then his face turns serious, his tone careful. “Your Highness… what about His Majesty? Shall I tell him…?”

The question hurt So Yong more than she had anticipated. She expels a breath and shrugs. “You can apprise him, if you want, but we should definitely do this tonight. We might not get another window.”  

Hong nods, and if So Yong looks closely, she would see that the director looks almost sad for her. 

She does not want to dwell on issues that concern Cheoljong. Nevermind that she aches for his counsel, for his presence. Her whole plan relies on her walking into Okatajeong without Cheoljong, but she could have used his support. She shakes her head and pulls herself back to the present; there are more pressing things that require her attention.

“And Kim Hwan?” she asks. 

“Kim Hwan knows what to do,” is Hong’s confident reply. 

“Thank you, Director Hong. I will see you at Oktajeong in a while.”

Hong nods then rises to his feet. With a reverent dip of his head, he walks towards the doors. So Yong watches his retreating back absentmindedly, her thoughts drifting back to Cheoljong. 

When Hong opens the sliding doors, he almost runs into Cheoljong, as if some kind of magic conjured him. “Your Majesty,” he says, startled. They exchange pleasantries briefly and Hong leaves.  

So Yong looks up almost instinctively. Her heart, her treacherous, wayward heart thrums at the sight of her incorrigible husband. 

She sees him hesitate the moment his gaze lands on her, like he’s waiting for her to welcome him, or perhaps, to send him away.  She realizes that she is waiting, too—waiting for him to ask her if his presence is welcome. 

She rises to her feet, her pulse beating too fast. She opens her mouth, uncertain what to say. But before she could say anything, he crosses the room. His steps falter as he comes closer. A hundred different things hang over them, but neither speaks. 

When she is within arm’s reach, he stops, his eyes searching her face.  “You’re going to Oktajeong tonight?” he asks finally. 

So Yong nods, but doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t trust which words would come -- the angry ones, or those that long for his presence.

He’s so still, his eyes intent on hers and then he whispers, “Come back to me, safe.”  

“Then you must wait for my return,” she whispers back. 

At her words, Cheoljong steps even closer. When he takes So Yong in his arms, pulling her close, she doesn’t resist. Instead, she lets her head fall forward. “I miss you,” he murmurs into her hair. 

“You’re an asshole.”

Cheoljong chuckles, like he’s relieved that she doesn’t send him away. So Yong finds herself smiling with him. “Did you just call the king an asshole?” he rebukes her good-naturedly.

“The king, no,” she responds, her chin resting on his left shoulder, her own arms encircling his middle. “My husband, yes. I’m sorry for being too hard on you.”

“You were,” he says. “You were also right. Thank you.”

“For…?”

“Everything.” Cheoljong pulls back abruptly, his hands curled on each of her arms.

“You once asked me not to give up on you,” she reminds him plainly. 

He smiles her favorite smile, the boyish kind, the one that crinkles his eyes and reveals the little imperfection near his lip, the one that lights up his whole face and makes her smile too.

“I have something for you,” he says.

He tugs her down the cushions until they are both seated, facing each other. He pulls something from his robes - a dagger.

“I cannot stop you, so I might as well arm you,” he says, as he presents the gleaming dagger to So Yong. 

It is smaller than a usual dagger, lighter too. It is slim, sharp, the hilt has gold and jade accents, but otherwise it is simple, efficient, made for a more delicate hand.

“It is made of lighter material…so you could hide it in the folds of your skirt,” he says, as So Yong admires it in her hand. 

“If you must use it, find a place where it doesn’t clash with bone. Go for the throat or the abdomen,” Cheoljong points somewhere in his middle, “here,” he points somewhere else, “or here. And more importantly be careful, or it will be used on you."

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” 

“Maybe tomorrow, or the day after that, I will show you how to wield it properly… if you like,” he offers.

“I would like that.” 

"If they discover the game you're playing, they will hurt you." Cheoljong murmurs, his eyes filled with worry. He doesn’t like So Yong facing their enemies without him. She is going to attract the wrong attention - the dangerous kind. She has a knack for it.  

“Not anymore,” she responds. She believes it. 

“I really wish I could come and protect you myself,” he says, his face anguished. She can see his brows furrow, like he’s resisting the urge to stop her from going to Oktajeong altogether.

“You can’t. You need to be at the palace, and meet with your other ministers. You need witnesses that you are in the palace, so there will be no question later. They cannot trace this back to you." 

Cheoljong nods, he knows she’s right but he struggles with his unease. He’s uncertain what to say next, afraid to blurt out the wrong thing again. But it calms him a little to see her ingenuity, her mind sharp and dangerous.

"Director Hong will be there. In disguise, but he will be there. A few of his men will be there too. Besides, this thing I’m doing… I learned it from you.” So Yong wanted to add that Cheoljong is part of the reason why she’s walking into the enemy camp. That while she wants to avenge herself, it is sometimes Cheoljong who makes her want to do dangerous things. 

"When you're nervous, smile." Cheoljong tells her, fear and pride in his eyes. "Your smile is disarming. Terrifyingly trusting."  He touches her cheek. "You can charm anyone with it."

So Yong nods, making a mental note even as her heart warms at the unexpected compliment. 

“You need to stay sharp at all times. When your breath becomes uneven, find something to focus on. It will soothe your frayed nerves. Over time, you will get used to it,” he assures her kindly. 

“I’m the one walking into Oktajeong, Your Majesty. How are you more anxious?”

“I worry about you constantly, moreso in situations like this.” The sentiment is light as a cloud but it crashes heavily on her like rainfall. With it, she feels his fear of losing her, of losing more people in his life. 

He continues, “So Yong-ah, Come see me right after? It doesn’t matter how late, I will wait for you.” 

So Yong leans into him, not for herself, but for him. He seems to need it more than she does. “Okay.” She feels the warmth of his hand as he strokes her back. “Your Majesty…”

“Hmmmmm….?”

“You’re so clingy,” she says, chuckling.

“How do you expect me to feel when you're out there risking your life?”

—

So Yong marvels at the lights of Oktajeong as she walks in later that night. Dressed as a nobleman, in the most expensive silk, she walks the brightly lit hallway as if she belongs there. Music and raucous laughter fill the air, as a few of the prettiest women she’s ever seen walk past her. One woman gives her a wide smile - a flirtatious one, no doubt.

A man falls into step with her, but doesn’t acknowledge her. He recognizes him as Dae Ho, one of Hong’s men. Just like she is, Dae Ho is dressed to the nines, looking every inch like a nobleman garbed in expensive silk. 

“Down the hall to your right,” he says under his breath, then walks past her. With that So Yong walks purposely down the hall, to the last room on her right. When she gets there she sees Director Hong emerge from the adjacent room. She almost does not recognize him, if not for the smug smile on his face. His usual clean-shaven face appears heavily bearded, and for the first time, he is not dressed in his usual black, but in emerald green, his gat sits neatly on his head. 

“They’re inside,” he says, giving So Yong a once-over. He arches an eyebrow. “You look handsome, your Highness,” he whispers. So Yong appreciates his effort to put her at ease. 

“There are a few members of the Jo clan. I will come in after the wine is served,” He informs her.

So Yong nods. At that, she expels a breath and turns towards the doors. She slides it open, and sees Cheoljong’s ministers, seated in what looks like a semi-circle. Each of them sit behind a small low table. They are startled when the door opens, but they ignore her, probably assuming that she is just another drunken patron who opened the wrong room, But as she walks purposely inside, all eyes turn to her. 

“Who are you? This is a private meeting, you don’t belong here.” says the man So Yong recognizes as Kim Byung-Hak, Cheoljong’s Chief State Councillor, also the biggest thorn to the king’s side, next to Kim Byeong In.

“Chief State Councillor Kim Byung-Hak!” she exclaims, as she lowers herself, sitting on the floor, facing all of them. “I hear you are looking for me.”

She unties the string of her gat, and takes it off, revealing her face fully. 

“Your Highness?!” he says in astonishment. 

“Correct! It is me!!” So Yong replies jovially. “What a band of merry men you are, I see our clan is now friendly with the Jo clan. How long was I gone?” 

She turns her head to her left and greets the members of the Jo clan, “Lord Jo Deok-Moon, it is good to see you being friendly with our clan.”

“What are you doing here, Your Highness?” the man from their rival clan replies in annoyance.

She is unable to answer because a woman enters the room with a jar of wine. So Yong gestures for the woman to pour wine into the cups of everyone, including herself. Once she is finished, the woman leaves another jar onto the small table in front of her. 

“First of all, I would like to apologize for crashing your little shindig here. Secondly, I wish to apologize for not paying my respects much earlier. Especially to our clan, I would not be a queen, if not for your support, of course.”

They look at her with absolute distrust that So Yong snickers. “I cannot blame you for looking at me that way, but first, a toast to this lovely gathering” she says, raising her cup. “I will tell you why I am here, but allow me to catch up on drinking first,” she adds. 

They all look at her with unabashed suspicion. Her heart throbs loudly in her ears, like a series of thunderclaps. She wonders if they can hear her heartbeat. She begins to second guess herself. The plan isn’t working. It is a grave mistake. She was too confident. Too cocky. 

Kim Byung-Hak's gaze drops to her hands. They are shaking. She folds them and drops them under the table. 

Cheoljong' s voice rings in her ear. Come back to me,  he said. 

One hand absentmindedly gravitates towards the dagger hidden in her clothes.  

When you're nervous, smile , he told her.

She straightens her back and holds Kim Byung-Hak's gaze. She wills herself to smile. 

Made it reach her eyes. It hid her anxiety.  

Made it look bright and earnest. It hid her treachery.  

Made it look amiable. It hid her vindictive intent.

Begrudgingly, they drink the wine. She tosses her cup to her lips, but doesn’t drink the liquid. She needs to remain sharp.

One. Two. Three.

“What do you want, Your Highness?” Left State Councillor Kim Seok-Geun asks, his patience wearing thin. 

So Yong gives him a bored glance, but doesn’t respond right away, purposely annoying him.

“I want all of you to leave the King’s council,” she says impudently. Haughtily. She breathes through her nose to steady her pulse.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve. 

All twelve men in the room laugh at her brazen demand. “You are brave, Your Highness, I give you that, but you are in no position to demand anything from us.” Jo Deok-Moon tells her mockingly. 

“Your Highness, please leave before you embarrass yourself further,” Kim Seok-Geun piles on.

Under the table, her fingers trace the handle of the dagger. The motion anchors her, quiets her heart, keeps her mind alert. 

“Oh I will, but not after you write your intent to leave the council… and oh I need the name of thieves. I know you’re behind it.” She wonders whose voice it is, brazen and steady, a stark contrast to the heart pounding in her chest. Find something to focus on, Cheoljong told her. She grips her dagger and focuses on the feel of the hilt on her hand. It steels her will.

“What makes you think we would do that?” Kim Byung-Hak asks her, mocking laughter crossing his features. 

“Good question! You are indeed the Chief State Councillor!” So Yong responds almost gleefully. She is just about to give the older man an answer he probably doesn’t want to hear when a Director Hong, in disguise, enters the room. He goes straight to So Yong. 

Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two.

“Who are you?” Jo Deok-Moon demands, attempting to rise to his feet, but he seems unsteady, so he drops to the floor once more. 

“This is preposterous! We will not sit here and be treated so insolently!” Kim Seok-Geun yells. But just like Jo Deok-Moon, he sways as soon as he is up on his feet, so he sits back down.

So Yong and Hong ignore them. Hong’s presence calms her nerves somewhat. He gives her a meaningful look as if to ask how she’s doing. She acknowledges it with a tiny smile. He drops the ledgers on her table and goes back to guarding the doors.

She continues to count in her head. Thirty. Thirty-One. Thirty-Two. 

Kim Seok-Geun notices the ledgers and his eyes widen. “You recognize these, Left State Councillor Seok-Geun?” So Yong says, taunting him. She grins. Darkly. “You have been naughty. Very naughty. Let me see.” She thumbs through the pages and reads a few entries, much to the man’s consternation. “You messed so much with the grain, and now you cover your crimes with the thieves. It’s quite clever. Shameless. But clever” The Left State Councillor looks chastened, almost fearful.

Thirty-Eight. Thirty-Nine. Forty. 

“This is between you and your clan, leave us out of it.” Jo Deok-Moon yells at So Yong. 

“It is too bad Lord Deok-Moon that you learned nothing from the fate of your beloved consort.” 

Anger crosses his face, “You are the king’s whore,” he says.

“And you will be the king’s bitch, ” she shoots back. 

Forty-One. Forty-Two. Forty-Three.

She goes back to addressing everyone in the room. “I am nothing but considerate, as every queen should be. You have three options.” She gestures with her hands, “One, I hand all these ledgers to the king… in which case, he will have your heads. Two, I will keep these, but you leave his council for good.”

She takes out a stack of paper from her clothes, “All you need is to sign these… you don’t even have to write. I made it easier for you…”

“You have nothing on the Jo clan,” Lord Deok-Moon slams his fist on the low table.

Fifty-Eight. Fifty-Nine. Sixty.

She laughs when her counting reaches sixty. A manic, calculating laughter, tinged with just a little relief and bloody murder.  For it is then that they begin to realize what she did. What she actually did.

“Ah Jo Deok-Moon..secret option number three. I would not want you to feel unwelcome of course.”

“What did… what… did you do…?” Kim Seok-Geun stutters, his focus wavering. He begins to understand So Yong’s true intent. His body, with his wildly pounding heart, comprehends it too.

Realization of what secret option number three is, sinks in. The ministers, Cheoljong’s ministers who are plotting against him, look at So Yong with a mixture of daze and fear. 

“The wine!” Jo Deok-Moon says in panic. “You poisoned the wine.”

 At that, the wicked smile disappears from So Yong’s face. It is replaced by cold countenance. 

“I changed my mind. I no longer want you leaving the council. That offer has expired,” she says, taking out another piece of parchment. “This is what I want.” 

She meets the eyes of the men who are plotting against Cheoljong. The men who have so conveniently turned a blind eye to Kim Jwa Geun’s orders to drown her. 

“This right here,” she points at the jar on her little table, “is the antidote, but first, I need your signatures… and oh, the names and whereabouts of the thieves.” 

Chapter Text

"Hyung-nim, I am in trouble!"  Kim Hwan wails as he saunters into Kim Byeong In’s office. 

His older adoptive cousin, who seems lost in thought as he paces his office, stops mid-step to deign Kim Hwan a look. His brows furrow at the sight of a distraught Kim Hwan. 

In the early evening, the place is bathed in shadows, with only a few lamps offering light. Unopened scrolls are piled on a tray sitting on the long rectangular table. The wooded chairs are pulled back haphazardly as if a meeting had just ended. 

Kim Hwan plops down on one of the chairs, face crumpled. Byeong In rolls his eyes and pulls a chair adjacent to his cousin. 

“What are you doing at my office this late?” Byeong In grumbles as he sits, a hint of affectionate annoyance colors his tone. 

Stick as close as possible to the truth. Kim Hwan remembers So Yong’s words, so out loud he cries, “She doesn’t like me back!” He is, of course, talking about the queen’s maid who spurned all his romantic overtures a few days earlier. 

“Who is it this time?” Byeong In chides him, rolling his eyes. He has the countenance of a friend used to hearing about Kim Hwan’s frequent heartbreaks. 

“Hong Yeon, the queen’s maid. She said doesn’t like me back,” Kim Hwan laments. He wills his expression to crumple and look utterly heartbroken. He realizes that he doesn’t have to dig deeper. His pretend feelings are real, the queen’s maid has in fact stomped on his heart. 

“Did you confess your feelings to her?” Byeong In asks patiently. 

Kim Hwan drops his head to his palm as his elbow rests on the table. “Yes!” he moans, struggling to keep his true feelings at bay. If he is to stick to the instructions So Yong had given him, he must resist the urge to fall apart on account of his latest heartbreak. 

So Yong gave Kim Hwan a simple mission: he must keep Byeong In from going to Oktajeong. So Yong may be clever enough to fool Cheoljong’s ministers but Byeong In is astute, he can easily see through her ruse. But if Kim Hwan is being honest, he’d think that So Yong is afraid–not of Byeong In— but of herself, of what she’s capable of doing to anyone who stands in her way, Byeong In included. She has that cold-blooded, deranged look of a madwoman sometimes. 

Kim Hwan peers at Byeong In surreptitiously through his tear-stained lashes. He wonders for the thousandth time whether Byeong In knows that it was the Dowager Queen Sunwon and Kim Jwa Geun who engineered the attempt on So Yong’s life. He doubts it, but he made a promise to So Yong not to tell Byeong In anything. 

“There are other women,” Byeong In counsels him patiently. He pats Kim Hwan’s shoulder awkwardly. 

“You don’t understand!” Kim Hwan protests fiercely. He makes a show of wiping tears from his face. “Have you ever loved someone who did not like you back?” 

Kim Hwan thought it would be unlikely for someone like Byeong In, with his stature and influence, to be turned down by women. But he doesn’t miss the shadow that descends on Byeong In’s face. For a moment he wonders if he’s right. Does his cousin carry the torch for someone who does not return his affection? Intrigued, he forgets his mission momentarily and decides to pry. 

“Is there really someone? Tell me. Tell me, who is this woman you like?!” 

“There is no one.” Byeong In tells Kim Hwan a little too forcefully. “If you want to talk more about this woman of yours, come with me. We shall have a drink.”

“Drink…? Where? Now?” Kim Hwan asks frantically. So Yong needs a little more time. 

“I’m headed to Oktajeong. Wine, women and woe, cousin, are the best of companies.” He pushes his chair back, ready to up and leave. 

“No!” Kim Hwan cries out almost immediately. “I… I.. don’t want to go to Oktajeong right now.”

“Why not?” Byeong In watches him. Carefully.  

Fear and worry for So Yong battle within Kim Hwan. He must delay Byeong In to buy So Yong a little more time. He cannot fail her. Emboldened, he forces himself to sell his story even more.

Stick as close as possible to the truth. 

“I cannot go because… the women there only remind me of Hong Yeon.” He slumps back on the table and weeps for good measure. “It hurts so much, Hyung-nim!”

___

Meanwhile at Oktajeong

“Why are you doing this? You and I are from the same clan! How dare you betray your own blood?” Kim Byung-Hak rasps as the drug slowly takes over him. 

So Yong has Cheoljong to thank for the inspiration. Her lip curls into a smirk at the memory of that one afternoon a few months back, when she blacked out after Cheoljong drugged her tea. Little did she know such an experience would prove useful later. 

Her eyes sweep the room as the ministers struggle to remain conscious. Of course, if it were up to her, she would have finished them off right there. 

“There is no need to be overdramatic, Minister Byung-Hak,” So Yong replies calmly. Condescendingly. “Give me what I want, and I’ll give you what you need.”

“Fine! I will be leaving the council,” Jo Deok-Moon says weakly, leaning heavily on the small table in front of him. 

“The offer to leave the council has expired, Minister Jo Deok-Moon. If you want to live, I need your signature on this.” So Yong rises to her feet and approaches him. She lowers herself next to the minister so she can look him in the eye. 

He takes the parchment and reads it, his hands trembling. “This is a confession to treason!” he says, trying to sound indignant. “We are dead anyway. I will take my chances. I am not signing that.”

So Yong deigns the foolish minister another look. She underestimated him. Apparently he has more ice in his blood than she anticipated. But she cannot not let them doubt the drug she gave them, or her entire plan falls apart. 

Just when she’s about to reply, the door bursts open. Hong’s men, Dae Ho and Sang Jo enter. On Sang Jo’s back is an unconscious Chief Royal Secretary. Sang Jo drops him on the floor unceremoniously. He hits the ground with a thud, looking like a heap of pallor and death. The morbid sight of a lifeless Kim So Heun sprawled on the floor of Oktajeong filled the room with a ghastly hush.

Hong’s men close the door once more and leave. So Yong smiles inwardly, making a mental note to thank the two men later. They did exactly as instructed. Kim So Heun, the Chief Royal Secretary who looks all kinds of dead will drive her point: she means business. 

“What did you do to Kim So Heun?” a terrified Kim Seok-Geun asks. She can hear his voice tremble.

“He refused to sign this, so he’s dead.” So Yong replies cheerfully like a madwoman. “You will be joining him in the afterlife, if you continue to annoy me,”  she adds deadpan.

Realizing that So Yong is serious, the ministers quiet down considerably, fear and shock coloring their features. Sensing that she finally has their full attention, she goes back to her earlier seat and takes out the ink and calligraphy brush Hong had prepared earlier. 

“You still belong to our clan! You are one of us. How can you betray us like this?” Kim Byung-Hak yells. It is a weak attempt to dissuade her, but So Yong can see the accusation and wrath in his eyes.

The very idea that So Yong is “one of them” made her feel as though spiders are crawling across her skin. It is so perverse, she cringes.

“My clan.. My family is His Majesty and my father. Now if you please.” She rises to her feet once more and hands the parchment and brush to Kim Byung Hak. Begrudgingly, he signs his name on the parchment. The rest of the ministers do the same. 

When they have all signed, she takes the jar and makes a show of pouring the contents into Kim Byung Hak's cup. Her hands still just before the liquid spills from the jar. “Ah before I forget… Minister Kim Byung Hak, you will tell me who the thief is… or I spill the contents of this jar on the floor.”

“I don’t know who he is.” 

“What is the point of protecting his identity when you are dead anyway?” So Yong retorts. 

“It is Kim Chang Hyuk’s son, Kim Hyuk Ju!! Now give us the antidote!!” The desperate voice of Kim Seok Geun rings across the room. 

When she hears it, So Yong feels a light thrum in her fingers, a slight throb in her heart - satisfaction. The urge to come out on top, the perverse joy to see an enemy suffer in her hands. She hated it. She craved it. 

She angles her head towards the Left State Councillor who is starting to look ashen, his face now covered in sweat.  She hands him the jar. “Wise choice, Minister. Take a cup each, and you should all be fine,” she says without inflection.

So Yong walks back to the center of the room, but she doesn’t bother to sit. She stares down each minister imperiously. 

“From now on, you will not object to His Majesty’s wishes. You will not conspire together. You are not to make appeals against him…. And you are not to tell anyone about our little get-together tonight. “ She raises the signed parchment. “Or I show this document to His Majesty and you will all be tried for treason.. or worse.” 

“How do we know you won’t have us killed right away?” Jo Deok-Moon asks her, ever so suspicious, as he should. 

“You don’t… but you don’t really have a choice” So Yong replies matter-of-factly, offering nothing more. 

The door slides open again, with an anxious-looking Director Hong beckoning her subtly. He makes a small gesture with his head, to which So Yong understands as a signal to move things along. She marches towards him and gives the ministers one last look before stepping out of the room. 

“We should go. Now.”  Director Hong tells her urgently as he leads So Yong towards the back exit. 

“Did you get it, Your Highness?” Director Hong asks as soon as they step outside, away from the lights. 

A huge grin splits So Yong’s face. “I did. Why are we rushing out?”

“Byeong In is here. We must hurry,” Hong tells her apprehensively. So Yong steals a backward glance, and true enough, sees Byeong In’s tall form entering the hall.  

She and Byeong In used to play hide-and-seek when they were younger, and he always finds her. Always. The thought chills her.  She moves quickly into the shadows and follows Director Hong, as he leads her safely away from the blinding lights of Oktajeong. 

They wind their way through shadowed alleys. “I don’t think they followed us,” Hong whispers, but just as he finishes his statement, they hear the heavy footsteps of soldiers, hot on their trail. 

“Byeong In must have suspected we’d take the back exit. We need to split,”  So Yong suggests, looking over her shoulder.

“No. His Majesty will have my head if I leave you alone,” Hong replies, pulling So Yong deeper into the shadows as the footsteps multiply and the sound inches closer. 

“We cannot hide here all night. Byeong In will rouse the whole palace if he needs to… and if he discovers you and I are missing, he’d suspect us right away.” So Yong knows they have to keep moving. Byeong In would have been livid when he discovered the ministers' drugged state. His retaliation will be swift and ruthless, which is why she needs to be back at Daejojeon right away...just in case he comes knocking. It would be impossible to feign innocence when she's missing.

Wedged in a narrow space between a wall and some bushes, Hong peers into the darkened empty street. “Your Highness, please stay here and I will draw them in the opposite direction. Stay hidden. I will come back for you.”

So Yong resists the urge to roll her eyes, “I can find my way back to the palace.” 

“I’m sure you can, Your Highness, but it is too dangerous right now.” Hong grins remembering what So Yong just pulled off. “After all, we just committed murder .” He chuckles at the last word.

He rummages into his pack and pulls out something. He hands it to So Yong, but she cannot see it in the dark. “It’s a mask, Your Highness. Cover your face.” So Yong takes it and ties it into place. It covers most of her face, except her eyes. 

Hong peers into the street once more, his head turning from left to right checking for anything suspicious. The street lanterns swaying to and fro with the light breeze cast strange shadows in the alley. Satisfied, he steps back into the street. “Stay here,” he says and runs off quietly. 

Minutes ticked by as So Yong remained hidden in the shadows. She listened in, trying to catch the softest of sounds, but the night remained quiet, except for the distant sound of a dog barking. The footfalls of soldiers chasing them have vanished. 

Once more, she peers around the corner—into the deserted street—her eyes adjusting well to the darkness. Throwing caution into the wind, So Yong steps into the alley and walks into the direction of the palace. 

She makes it past three street corners when she notices someone following her. Pacing behind her. Tracking her. 

She picks up her pace, her fingers gripping the dagger hidden under her clothes. 

“You,” calls a voice behind her. He is close. She reckons he should be at least twenty feet away. 

“Stop.” The voice registers in her mind. She recognizes it. 

She stops and turns to face him. Her blood goes cold.

Kim Byeong In. 

“Who are you?” he asks as he approaches So Yong slowly, carefully, one hand poised at the hilt of his sword. 

Fear creeps up and down So Yong’s spine, blood draining from her face, threatening to call Byeong In’s attention even in the darkness.

Cheoljong’s voice echoes in her head. Come back to me, safe. The thought of Cheoljong awaiting anxiously for her return steels her will.

She takes a deep breath to calm her nerves even as a maelstrom of doubt sweeps through her. She forces herself to think.

With her mask and the faint light of the lamp behind her, So Yong knows Byeong In cannot yet see her face, but if he moves closer, he would recognize her. And she has no explanation for being caught in a dark alley, in the middle of the night, disguised as a nobleman.

Heart in her mouth, she looks around surreptitiously and realizes she has no escape. There are no side alleys to turn to, just a long narrow stretch of a deserted street. She berates herself quietly, realizing she just missed an alley. She should have turned right earlier but she was in a hurry to reach the palace. 

So Yong assesses her options; she cannot outrun Byeong In. Nor can she fight him off, but if she appears smaller, weaker, she won’t be perceived as a threat. She needs Byeong In to lower his guard. Stealthily, she grips the hilt of the dagger and makes a quick decision. Pis aller.  

So Yong hangs her head and haunches her shoulders. She proceeds to take a small step sideways, pretending to sway a little. Remembering to change the tenor of her voice, she slurs, “Lee Saeng Mang.” She pretends to sway again. A drunk man not too far from Oktajeong should not look so suspicious, but her mask certainly is. “Idiots! I drink better than those fools!” she yells, committing to her drunken cover.

She notices Byeong In’s posture relax, his hand leaving his sword. For a second, he simply eyes her, probably trying to catch a glimpse of her face. So Yong thought he would believe her, but instead, he stalks closer. 

She sees Byeong In’s hand gravitating back to his sword. “Move backwards towards the light and remove your mask. Show me your face,” he yells. 

She swallows and her eyes dart around her, as though she could find a clever escape in the shadows. 

If they discover the game you're playing, they will hurt you. Cheoljong warned her. 

Not anymore, she replied. 

She remembers the confidence in her voice when she assured him. The courage. She tries to summon that same courage again. She thought, perhaps, this is why people need others. Love others. To create memories and hang on to them. To use those memories to pull yourself together when you begin to fall apart. 

Something in the alley shifts, a shadow. But the movement is so quick she thought she imagined it. Byeong In must have noticed it too because one moment there is absolute silence, the next, he draws his sword and advances quickly towards her. 

So Yong’s stomach plummets, as a dark figure melts from the shadows. He moves so quickly that neither she nor Byeong In notices him until he’s standing between her and Byeong In, effectively shielding her from her adoptive cousin. 

“Who are you?” Byeong In demands but the man clothed in black doesn’t reply. Annoyed, Byeong In takes a deliberate step forward, narrowing the gap between himself and the mysterious stranger.

So Yong steps back instinctively, her eyes never leaving the dark figure. But with his back to her, it is impossible for her to identify him. He is too tall to be Hong and too lithe to be Sang Jo. She wonders if it’s Dae Ho, but just as her mind begins to assess him, the man turns his head to look at her. The pale light of the lamp hits his masked face and his eyes narrow at her. 

She recognizes those eyes. Warm eyes, the color of copper. Her heart pounds with relief. Cheoljong. 

So Yong feels his eyes run the length of her, then, wordlessly, he turns his head back to Byeong In, drawing his own sword. 

Byeong In and Cheoljong face each other in the middle of the narrow alley, both taking a fighting stance, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Byeong In holds his sword at an angle in front of him, his expression grim and watchful. Cheoljong holds his blade casually at his side, tip pointing toward the ground but his posture is everything but casual. He looks like a coiled snake ready to strike. For a brief moment, neither of them seem to breathe.

“Who are you?” Byeong In asks again, sweeping up his sword in a menacingly quick move. He suddenly lunges at Cheoljong, who sees the maneuver just in time, spinning gracefully aside.  Byeong In advances aggressively with a series of vicious strikes, but Cheoljong leaps backward, lithe and quick on his feet. 

So Yong always knew Byeong In could handle himself in a fight but she worries whether Cheoljong could keep up. He spent too much time sitting on his throne and at best, his sword fighting skills were tested by his brother, and some street thugs. She watches with fear and fascination, mesmerized, as Cheoljong blocks, and ducks Byeong In’s attacks. The sound of clashing metal slices through the quiet night. She has never seen anyone go toe-to-toe with Byeong In before.

They both move with practiced ease – twisting, leaping, pivoting around each other, swords clashing- like a perfectly choreographed sword dance. And with only the flickering lamps providing light, So Yong isn’t sure who has the advantage. 

But So Yong soon realizes that she has not given Cheoljong enough credit because he lunges at Byeong In, light and quick on his feet, the move lightning fast, it catches Byeong In off guard. Cheoljong’s blade cuts through his upper shoulder. So Yong gasps, wondering whether Byeong In’s blood bleeds through the dark fabric of his clothes. 

His face twists in pain as Cheoljong continues to press the blade of his sword into his wound. Byeong In steps back abruptly and spins around, freeing his now-injured shoulder. Undeterred, Cheoljong continues to advance forward, the reflexes of a seasoned swordsman kicking in. Injured, Byeong In leaves his side open. Cheoljong takes advantage of it and swings his sword, but instead of cutting him, Cheoljong hits his temple with the hilt of his sword.

Byeong In staggers back, his steps unsteady. Pressing his advantage, Cheoljong swings his sword one more time, but the blow isn’t fatal. He simply knocks him out. So Yong hears Byeong In’s pained grunt then he drops to the ground.

Pounding footsteps echo in the distance; the faint shout of soldiers reverberates into the alley. Cheoljong sheaths his sword and whirls around. He runs towards So Yong and grabs her wrist. “We should go.”

So Yong shoots Byeong In one last look before letting herself be pulled along by Cheoljong. They flee through dark narrow alleys, and have managed to make it close to the palace walls before they hear the sound of frantic footsteps once more. 

So Yong is startled when Cheoljong yanks her into a darkened corner, as a group of soldiers skitter along the street. He peers through the alley stealthily, observing them as they pass by. 

She sees the silhouette of two soldiers who stayed behind. She can hear their quiet footfalls as they move closer to their hiding spot. She freezes in fear, her breathing coming up short and labored, her heart thundering in her chest.

As if Cheoljong senses her terror, he moves, ever so slightly. It is difficult to see in the shadows, but So Yong could feel his presence as surely as her own. He moves again, covering her, his body pressing protectively against her. 

“Shhh.. it’s alright. I got you,” he whispers into her ear, calming her. 

So Yong feels the warm sensation of his hand on her neck, a finger caressing her cheek through her mask, the fabric of his mask grazing her ear. Her heart pounds once more, but for a completely different reason. 

So Yong wonders yet again how easily she can find solace in Cheoljong’s presence. She wraps her arms around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. She thought, perhaps this is what it means to feel love. To be both fearful and brave at the same time.

Cheoljong must have mistaken it as fear because he whispers once more in her ear, his arm snaking around her in return. “I got you.” 

There’s a beat of silence, followed by the retreating footfalls of the soldiers, leaving them alone in the darkened alley. 

“We need you back at Daejojeon before someone discovers you are missing,” he murmurs, but his arm around her lingers for a few heartbeats, until finally, he grabs her wrist once more and they flee. 

Fortunately, they make it back to Daejojeon without any more unfortunate incidents.  

“You should get changed,” Cheoljong tells her as soon as the doors close behind them. “Kim Byeong In will not let this slide so easily. He will rouse the dead, if he has to.”

An image of Cheoljong pressing a sword into Byeong In’s wound crosses her mind. “Earlier… why didn’t you…? You could have finished Byeong In right there.” 

“Would you have wanted me to kill him?” he asks instead, his eyes suddenly intense. They stand face-to-face in the middle of the antechamber. “Would you have forgiven me if I did?”

So Yong is taken aback by the question. “If your roles were reversed, Byeong In would not have hesitated.”

“I didn’t hesitate. I decided not to kill him. And that’s not an answer to my question.” There is an edge to his voice. So Yong wonders if Cheoljong is asking her permission, should they come face-to-face again.

“You didn't have a choice. It was him or you,” she says quietly, using the same words he once used on her. 

Remembering the decision she made before Cheoljong showed up, she adds softly, “I might have. Hurt him, I mean. If he dropped his guard. I considered it, at least.”

“Kim Byeong In cares for you too much. He would not have hurt you,” he replies flatly. 

“That’s not the point.. I.. I.. need to get changed,” she says, taking a step back. 

Something in So Yong fractures. Would she have really stabbed Byeong In when presented with the opportunity? Was it really the only choice - to hurt someone she cares for so dearly? 

Not wanting to delve further into her dark thoughts, So Yong turns on her heel to do exactly as Cheoljong asked - get changed. But in the next instant, his hand grabs hers, pulling her towards him. 

Startled and out of balance, So Yong holds onto his arm to steady herself. She looks up, and her heart pounds at the way Cheoljong gazes at her, the way his eyes search her face… as if he’s trying to commit every nuance, every angle of her face to memory,  as though he might forget them in the next instant. She wonders if he realizes she’s doing the same thing. 

So Yong feels Cheoljong move closer, his chest pressing against hers, dark eyes settling on her lips. A now-familiar, yet no-less exhilarating sensation spirals through her body. She licks her lips involuntarily, parting and beckoning under his gaze.

And then his mouth is on hers, stealing the breath from her lips. A hand curls around the back of her neck, tilting her head at an upward angle so he can kiss her better, deeper, until she becomes uncertain whose air she’s breathing. 

She gives in fully to the kiss, feeling the hand on her neck move, his fingertips fanning across her face, then gone. And then a caress along the curve of her hip. Light. Almost tentative. And then she feels him become sure, pulling her flush against his body. 

So Yong wraps her arms around his neck, rising on her tiptoes, wanting to forget about everything else. And for a moment, there is no Byeong In, no ministers, no country. Only herself and Cheoljong. 

When he pulls back, he is out of breath. He is silent; his eyes dark and intense. So Yong’s fingers slide inside the collar of his clothes, finding the skin above his collar bone. His breath hitches and she feels his pulse lurch at her touch. Her heartbeat responds with equal fervor.

“I wanted to be there for you at Oktajeong,” she hears Cheoljong murmur into her skin, his head dipping, his lips finding the sensitive area of her throat, right beneath her jaw. Her scar.

A soft sound comes from the back of So Yong’s throat—it could have been a squeak, a plea, or simply, the sound of blossoming desire.  “You... were,” she stutters, trying very hard to concentrate on Cheoljong words, but her own speech comes out a whimper. 

Cheoljong pulls back and arches an eyebrow in question. 

"You were the voice in my head. You got me through it." 

For though Cheoljong had kept his distance the last few days, his counsel just before she went to Oktajeong echoed through her mind. They have been an anchor for her thoughts, a source of courage, a beacon for a night that could have gotten horribly wrong.

“How did you know where I was?”

"I didn't. I just knew that Byeong In was on his way to Oktajeong earlier than you anticipated. So I followed the escape route you and Hong planned earlier."

"How'd you know about Byeong In?"

"Kim Hwan," he says with a shrug.

"Kim Hwan?!" So Yong repeats incredulously. 

"Yes, Kim Hwan. He came to Huijeongjeon. Told me he cannot hold off Byeong In. He was close to panic. He really cares about you."

“Thank you for finding me, Your Majesty.” So Yong whispers, making a mental note to give her cousin a hug the next time she sees him. 

“I’ll always find you… No matter what.” he says solemnly, and then his eyes turn teasing. “And as long as you're feeling grateful…” He slides his fingers into the nape of So Yong’s neck, as his head dips down, his lips brushing the area under her ear, coasting down the underside of her jaw.

So Yong forgets to breathe, the sensation making her tingle all over, but she pulls back before her mind completely turns to mush. “You’re right, we need to get changed. In case Byeong In’s soldiers come barging in.”

Cheoljong makes a frustrated sound. “I should have killed him,” he says, only half-joking. 

So Yong’s laughter echoes through her chambers. 

—

“So how was it?” Cheoljong asks So Yong later when they have both changed, So Yong into her night dress; he, in his evening robes. 

So Yong, who is sitting across from him, breaks into a grin. “They believed it. You should’ve seen their terrified faces.” She remembers Jo Deok Moon’s ashen expression when he thought he ingested poison, and Kim Seok-Geun’s horror, upon seeing an unconscious Kim So Heun, making the assumption that the Royal Secretary is dead. 

“Mafeisan should wear off in a few hours,” Cheoljong replies, astonished at the huge trick they pulled off. “The Royal Secretary should be up at daybreak.”

“They were so horrified when they thought I had poisoned them!” So Yong exclaims, feeling particularly smug. “I suppose, I have that unhinged look."

“You would have poisoned them,” Cheoljong corrects her. When she first told him of her plans, she had proposed to poison the ministers, truly poison them, but it was he who counselled her against it. He didn’t like the idea of So Yong having blood on her hands, especially the blood of her own kin. 

“I can be scary,” she asserts, looking particularly proud, like she cannot quite believe she had pulled off the impossible. 

“You’re terrifying,” he agrees, indulging her. The smile on her face makes him smile too, too happy to see her smiling so unabashedly again.  But then his expression turns somber again.

“So Yong-ah… things will be more dangerous. Your clan will retaliate soon.”  Cheoljong reaches across the table to grasp her hand. She clasps his hand back almost immediately.

Cheoljong is reminded of the cold, dark fear he struggles with everyday. The possibility that—no matter how hard he tries to shield her—she will somehow get hurt. 

“We will face it together,” she says firmly, quoting him once more. Of course, So Yong would know what he wanted to say without him needing to utter another word.

She takes out the parchment she had coerced the ministers to sign and hands it to him. He takes it and examines the document, counting the names. 

“This is unbelievable!” he says, completely astonished, his face alight with praise. “You are incredible.”

“They were happy to sign it when the initial effects of the drug took hold of them. I imagine they felt dizzy. Jo Deok Moon and Kim Seok Geun both looked unsteady on their feet.” 

He looks at So Yong. When he asked her not to murder her own kin, she came up with the plan to use the same drug he gave her a few months back. Shame consumes him once more. “I’m sorry about that afternoon…” he says. He can apologize a million times, a million different ways but he can never wash himself of his sin, nor he intends to.  

He sees So Yong’s expression dim. He knows, she remembers it too, but in the next breath her expression turns kind, forgiving. “Some of us must do vile things, so others don’t have to,” comes her cryptic reply. She must have seen the remorse written all over his face, because she adds, “You must forgive yourself too… it’s how you move on from the past.”

There’s a beat of silence as her words wash over him.  After a long moment, she speaks again, there is levity in her tone. “Ask me what’s in the antidote.”

There it is again. The comfort masquerading as levity. To cheer him up. Her unceasing kindness. The unmistakable effort to spare him from his inner turmoil.  It makes him feel off-balance. He gazes at her, at his life’s greatest treasure.

“What was in the antidote?” he asks, humoring her. 

“Nothing but sugar and water,” Her smile grows into light laughter. Her eyes gleam impishly in the lamplight. 

He cannot help it, he joins in the laughter, marveling yet again at her mischief. Who would’ve thought that all it takes for him to crush his seditious ministers was a truth-telling drug mixed with something that induces sleep?

“So… what will you do with the ministers. Cut off their heads?” she asks later, when the laughter had died down. 

Cheoljong shakes his head, “Sometimes the threat of being punished is more effective than punishment itself.” 

So Yong nods emphatically, “I thought of something similar in the past. Knowing you could have their heads any moment will keep the ministers in line.”

“Besides, punishing them will send the rest scurrying in the dark. I’ll let them sleep with one eye open, wondering when I’ll come for them.”

“It’s easier to keep track of their movements when they are out in the open.” So Yong agrees. “Kim Jwa Geun is still out there and the dowager queens… We need them stripped of their power… their influence," she adds like an afterthought.

Cheoljong’s brows knit. “They don’t have much power, other than the fact that they have loyal followers.”  

“They will use those farmers and herb gatherers against you. We need to address that soon.”

Cheoljong nods, “Did you find out who the thief is?”

A look of contempt crosses So Yong’s face. She leans forward. “You will never guess who it is.”

Cheoljong arches an eyebrow. He has long suspected that it is one of the queen’s clan’s machinations, but he wonders who’s playing the thief.

“Kim Chang Hyuk’s son, that prick Kim Hyuk Ju,” So Yong tells him disdainfully. “We underestimated him.”

Cheoljong agrees; he misread Kim Hyuk Ju. He has long dismissed him as an idiot with a sword. In hindsight, he realized that armed idiots are the most dangerous kind. But something else catches his attention: So Yong keeps saying, “we.” 

When he set out to avenge his family, to claim full regency, he kept everything close to his chest, trusting only a few. He wore his rage like armor, but masked it with simpering smiles and feigned ineptitude.  He thought the story of his life begins and ends with retribution. 

But the woman. The woman sitting in front of him, with her warm smiles, and knowing eyes. She, who hides her courage behind her intellect, and that despite a world that conspired against her, himself included, is far more cunning, more loyal than anyone Cheoljong has ever met. She is the story of his life… the very essence of the word “we.”

And with one last thing else that nags at him, he broaches a sensitive subject. “We need to talk about Hwa Jin. Perhaps, for the last time.”

At her silence, Cheoljong takes a deep breath and continues, “About that day you had her punished…I did not hesitate for her benefit. It wasn’t entirely about guilt either. I saw the rage in your eyes. Saw mine reflected in yours.”

“I don’t understand…”

“I know what it’s like to be driven only by rage.. Or hate.” Cheoljong treads carefully, wanting to make sure she understands his own motivations.

“Do you think her punishment does not fit her crimes?” she asks tonelessly, her face a mask of cold nothingness. But her eyes. Her onyx eyes are sharp, like the dagger he gave her.

He wonders whether he should tell So Yong how deep his own anger runs. How he had given Hwa Jin enough latitude, only to blow up in his face. How So Yong warned him about the propensity of the heart to do evil, but he refused to listen.

 “I would have sent her away…like you did, minus the part where soldiers had to drag her away,” he explains carefully.

“You only meant to depose her?” she asks with an inscrutable countenance, piercing him with a look that makes him squirm. 

“No. I figured that if it were the ministers, I would have their heads. Or strip them of their titles, and make them earn honest wages for an honest day's work.” An unbidden mental image of Kim Byung Hak toiling in the fields makes his lips curl upward.

“Fairness would dictate that I do the same to the consort,” Cheoljong adds after a long pause.  

He gazes at So Yong imploringly, desperate for her to understand. For her to believe that he would not choose Hwa Jin over her. He once made that choice, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice. 

“When I said that her life is the last of my mercies, I meant it. I was tempted to punish her with death, for putting your life in danger. For conspiring with Kim Jwa Geun. But that would have been vindictive. Retributive.”

 “What is so wrong about wanting retribution? It made you king,” She asks instead. Her face is no longer cold, but curious. 

“I also almost lost you.” Cheoljong replies plainly, remembering the days when his heart is filled with hate and revenge. “I don’t wish to see you get consumed by revenge… like I once was.”

“Justice and retribution are the same. Two sides of the same coin” So Yong retorts stubbornly. “I fail to see the difference.”

“There is a thin line...” he concedes, placating her. “But I would like to think they are different. Justice restores balance. Retribution sows chaos.” 

"Why didn't you just tell me these earlier?"

This time, a wry smile spreads across his face. "Oh that… I've learned early on not to compete with your anger. I always lose."

She doesn’t speak for a while, and the silence swells, taking a life of its own. It morphs into a gulf between them. 

“Please say something.” Cheoljong pleads. He feels off-balance when she's distant.  “Tell me what’s on your mind.” 

He is startled when her face breaks into a smile - rueful, faraway, wishful.  

She shakes her head. "It is a ridiculous notion. The whimsies of a child." 

"Tell me anyway." 

She inhales carefully then closes her eyes. Her face turns placid, like she's sleeping, like she's dreaming, like she's wishing for something in earnest.

"I want an embrace unencumbered by fear...or revenge. I want to tell you I love you, just because. Not out of fear that I might not see you again," she says softly.

Cheoljong sees the tears leaking from the corner of her closed eyes, a familiar ache settles in his chest. He yearns for all of those things, too. 

"Sit next to me," he tells her when she opens her eyes again. He pats the cushion next to him. "Please."

Her eyes narrow in question, but she rises to her feet anyway. As soon as she steps on to the bedding, Cheoljong reaches out a hand and pulls her gently down next to him. She sits facing him, an amused smile on her face.

There is a flurry of heavy footsteps outside Daejojeon, but Cheoljong ignores it. For in that moment his world existed only in her eyes. The ache in his heart grows - the ache to touch her. To hold her and never let go.

He reaches out - a hand cupping her face, his thumb tracing the outline of her lips. When she leans in to his touch, his head falls forward, his nose brushing against hers, her lips, a hair's breadth away. 

"I look forward to that day..." He lets his words fade to a whisper before kissing her once more. When he feels her hand clutch at the collar of his clothes, pulling him closer, he smiles into the kiss.

To love without encumbrances. Without reservations. To love for no other reason but love. It is not a childish notion. To Cheoljong, it is hope.  For without it, what else is there to live for?

So Yong pulls back from him, his lips still chasing hers. When he pulls at the knot of her night dress, So Yong chuckles. He draws back and finds her quietly laughing at him. In retaliation, his hand trails the length of her braid. He unties it gently, unravelling her hair. It fell over her shoulders like a dark waterfall. He catches a strand between his fingers, reminding him of the feel of silk.

Her laughter quiets as his thumb brushes the area where her pulse beats in her neck. "So Yong-ah," he murmurs reverently. His throat is dry and his blood feels thick. The urge to kiss So Yong burned through him. Without preamble, he replaces his thumb with his lips and sucks the skin there. 

So Yong’s head lolls back, giving him better access. Cheoljong takes advantage of it, peppering kisses down her throat, across her collarbone... loving the little sounds she makes, and the way her hand clutches at his arms. She says something; it could have been a plea, but it comes out soft and breathy, completely incomprehensible to Cheoljong’s ears.

When Cheoljong draws back, her heavily lidded eyes and her slightly parted lips immediately catch his attention.

“So what’s next?” he asks her, feeling immensely smug at the sight of So Yong’s lips, looking thoroughly kissed. 

Seemingly dazed, it takes a second before So Yong replies. “Uhm.. You take care of Kim Byeong In, Kim Hyuk Ju and the thief conundrum. I will take down the dowager queens.”

Much to Cheoljong's joy, So Yong starts pulling at the string of his clothes. A hot, tempting flush spreads across her cheeks, down her throat, disappearing underneath her flimsy nightwear. He knows exactly how far that sinful blush travels, and he fully intends to chase the pinkish glow with his lips.

His body thrums with anticipation as So Yong inches closer, pushing his outer robe off his shoulders... her touch light and lingering. Her familiar scent-fresh and floral like spring- fills his senses. But So Yong's sure and teasing touch is interrupted by heavy footsteps right outside her chambers, followed by a servant bellowing, “Master Byeong In is here, Your Highness.”

For the second time that day, Cheojong says, “I should have killed him.” 

But this time, Cheoljong means it, for if he finds himself in a fight with So Yong’s reprobate cousin again, it would end in a courtyard awashed with Byeong In’s blood.

Chapter Text

“Master Byeong In is here, Your Highness,” someone bellows from outside So Yong’s chambers. 

So Yong’s hands on Cheoljong’s shoulders freeze, and it takes her a few seconds to clear the fog from her lust-addled mind. Cheoljong’s arms around her waist slacken, an unkingly curse escapes from his lips. 

“I should have killed him,” he mutters furiously under his breath. 

So Yong immediately hauls herself up and stares at her unkempt appearance in horror. Her face heats up at the sight of her crumpled clothes, still feeling the imprint of Cheoljong’s touch on her body. 

She steals a glance at Cheoljong, who, much to her chagrin, rises to his feet in one smooth motion, looking all sensuous and inviting, the string of his clothes untied, showing an expanse of skin in the V of his collar.  He straightens his outer robe casually… the robe she pushed off his shoulders rather eagerly just a few minutes earlier. 

She then remembers that her hair is in utter disarray. Mortified, she scrambles to tidy it up, but Cheoljong only gives her that lazy, secret smile, the one where his eyes are liquid starlight... the very same one that makes her blush like an inexperienced maiden. It flusters So Yong how his undivided regard still makes her warm and tingly all the way down to her toes, even in such inappropriate situations.

Sighing heavily, she reins in her body’s reaction, knowing full well that squaring off with an astute Byeong In requires her full mental faculties. 

Cheoljong, on the other hand, looks completely relaxed. Aggrieved, she shoots Cheoljong a deathly glare. “How are you so blasé?" She gestures at her rumpled clothes. "This is embarrassing!” 

“Why would it be embarrassing? This is a private moment between a husband and wife; your cousin is intruding.”  

The doors burst open before she can shoot Cheoljong a blistering reply. Byeong In, in his official robes, comes marching in, flocked by a few soldiers. A nasty bruise on his temple and a grim expression color his face. 

He comes to an abrupt stop at the sight of So Yong in a creased night dress and dishevelled hair. His eyes widen in embarrassment as he rakes in her unkempt appearance, perhaps realizing exactly what he had just interrupted. When his gaze lands on Cheoljong, his expression morphs into rage, his eyes blazing with barely concealed contempt. 

So Yong sneaks a glance at Cheoljong at about the same time, and realizes that he had not bothered to tie the strings on his clothes. It takes all of her not to crumple in embarrassment. 

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, this late in the night?” Cheoljong asks, smirking, as if Byeong In’s imposition amuses him immensely. He moves, perhaps an inch or two, towards Byeong In, his hands clasped behind his back. 

“We are investigating an incident,” he replies curtly, meeting Cheoljong’s eye. “I am looking for two fugitives,” he adds vaguely. 

“And naturally you come searching at Daejojoen.” Cheoljong quips derisively. “Is that the kind of investigative work your bureau does?” His face twists into a mirthless smile.

So Yong can feel Byeong In’s anger simmer dangerously beneath the surface. It could be a trick of the light, but a shadow and the bruise on his temple make his face all the more menacing. 

Sensing the escalating tension, she interrupts. “What incident?” 

Byeong deliberately ignores Cheoljong, and instead answers So Yong's question. “There was an attack on the ministers.” He makes no effort to share more information.

Feigning shock and concern for the ministers, So Yong wills her tone and expression to convey surprise and sympathy. “What happened to the ministers? Is anyone hurt?” 

Byeong In takes a small step towards So Yong, wincing as he does. He gives her an odd look, as if he’s trying to spot deception on her face. “I received information that you were in Oktajeong earlier, Your Highness.” 

So Yong summons an expression of confusion and affront, followed by brows arching into her forehead. “I didn’t leave Daejojeon tonight,” she declares emphatically, deciding to keep her lies simple.  “Why would anyone say such a ridiculous thing?”

“The queen… at Oktajeong? What a ridiculous concept.” Cheoljong scoffs, then chuckles facetiously as if the notion that So Yong spending time in Oktajeong is the most absurd thing in the world. 

“We have witnesses that put her there,” Byeong retorts, turning his head back to Cheoljong. 

“Two unsavory characters on the loose, ministers attacked… and you investigate the queen’s whereabouts,” Cheoljong drawls casually. His lips quirk with a flash of wry humor, but So Yong hears only the scorn embedded in his words.  

“Why are you making my investigation difficult, Your Majesty? Maybe you know something about the fugitives?” Byeong In shoots back, getting into Cheoljong’s face, nostrils flaring and fists clenched at his sides. He makes no effort to hide his deep-rooted animosity towards Cheoljong. 

“I know that the two fugitives outwitted you so easily… otherwise, you won’t be here slandering the queen.” His words are delivered with a smile on his face, and a sneer in his tone.

So Yong shoots Cheoljong a reprimanding glare, hoping he would stop taunting Byeong In. Cheoljong, of course, pretends not to see her. 

For a brief moment Cheoljong and Byeong In just stare at each another. Byeong In looks red with rage, his hands balled into a fist -a stark contrast to Cheoljong- his mouth is curved into a sardonic smirk, looking relaxed with his hands still clasped behind him. 

“You will not find any fugitives in my chambers, Byeong In.” So Yong interjects forcefully, positioning herself between Cheoljong and Byeong In. She lifts her hands, as if to push them apart physically. 

Byeong In angles his head to look at So Yong; something in his gaze suggests he is unconvinced of her innocence. 

“You are hiding something, Your Highness” Byeong In replies through clenched teeth. 

In an attempt to mollify Byeong In, So Yong gestures at Byeong In’s bruise. She wills herself to appear docile, and lends her voice the delicate melody of a stringed instrument. “You don’t look well, Byeong In. Did someone hurt you?”

The creases of irritation across Byeong In’s forehead disappear. “It’s nothing,” he says, casually dismissing So Yong’s concern, but the longing in his expression says otherwise.  

“I also happen to notice that your shoulder doesn’t look well. You wince when you move,” she adds gently. She can feel Cheoljong’s eyes drilling a hole on her back, but she ignores it. Surely Cheoljong must know that her overtures are strategic, not romantic.

Byeong In’s features soften further. “It doesn’t bother me, Your Highness,” he blusters.

“You need to get someone to look at your bruise… and your shoulder.” she says obsequiously, careful to keep her expression serene.  “You worry about the fugitives and the ministers tomorrow, as I am certain you will find them.” An empty platitude. 

“I will. Soon enough,” he snarls, glaring at Cheoljong once more. 

Her feigned frailty seems to have a sobering effect on Byeong In, so she summons a look of doe-eyed distress once more. “Byeong In… Please get to the bottom of this. It worries me that someone felt it necessary to drag me into whatever incident happened tonight.” 

“Your Highness… I promise you, I will," he vows softly… almost tenderly.

“I’m sure you will,” Cheoljong interrupts, annoyance dripping from his tone. “but you won’t find them inside the queen’s chambers.” 

“What about you, Your Majesty, where have you been all night?” 

“Not that I need to defend myself, but let me see…” Cheoljong makes a show of scratching his chin, pretending to think, a gesture so rich in contempt. “I was talking to the other ministers until late tonight, as I’m sure you’ve already checked before coming here…” 

Cheoljong lets his voice trail off before deliberately glancing at So Yong sidelong, his lips curving into a meaningful smile, as though he and So Yong share a raunchy secret Byeong In isn't allowed to know. “And then I came to Daejejeon to to see my queen. Would you like an account of what we were doing before rudely interrupting us….?” 

Byeong In glares at Cheoljong with the strike of a thousand swords. “It is my responsibility to follow up on any criminal behavior -”

Cheoljong’s immediate response is an eloquently condescending smirk. “I’m sure it is,” he says, his tone patronizingly kind,  “But as the queen has told you, she hasn’t left Daejojeon all night.” His tone then turns authoritative. Aggressive. “Do your investigation elsewhere. We have things to do as husband and wife.”

Byeong In glares at Cheoljong once more but is wise enough not to respond. Lips set in a grim line, he bids So Yong farewell and stalks off towards the doors.

“Kim Byeong In,” Cheoljong calls out before Byeong In steps out. “I don’t like seeing you at Daejojeon after dark without my permission. That is your king’s command.”

So Yong does not miss the ominous threat hidden underneath Cheoljong's parting shot. His eyes, she thought. His lips are curved into a smirk, but his eyes are cold and murderous. 

Byeong In leaves without a word, and they both heave a sigh of relief as soon as the doors close behind him. 

“You shouldn’t be so hard on him,” So Yong admonished Cheoljong kindly. Memories of the well settle into the forefront of her mind.

Cheoljong angles his body towards So Yong to face her.  He gives her a dark look, but otherwise remains quiet

“He saved your life once,” So Yong tells him ruefully. 

“What does that mean…?” His eyes narrow into slits, but his tone remains even. 

“Have I ever told you about what happened that night at the well?” 

Cheoljong shakes his head then regards her with a curious stare. “Tell me …”

So Yong  opens her mouth, but no words come. She wonders where to start… how much to share. 

“Just tell me,” he prompts So Yong softly, sensing her reluctance.

So Yong does her best to narrate the events of that night into a few essential points. She tells him about her mother, of Hwa Jin, of Kim Hwan advising her to ask a servant’s help, of Byeong In reluctantly helping her crack the well open because neither she nor Kim Hwan can lift the weights that  sealed the opening. And finally, she tells him of seeing him give away her book. 

“I didn’t give it away,” he counters gently. It was his turn to look rueful. “I gave it back because I thought it was her who I met at the bottom of the well….”

“It was a long time ago but, the point is, there was no way I could have opened it... if it weren’t for Byeong In.” 

“Then Byeong In and I are even." he declares begrudgingly.

“How so?” 

“I spared his life earlier. In the alley. He saved mine years ago. But I do feel the need to point out that, technically, it was you who saved me that day. Not your cousin,” he asserts. 

“Your Majesty, I never would have been strong enough to unseal the well…”

“Byeong did it for you… not because he felt the need to save someone in need.” 

“How is that important?”

“It is important because you treat him like a hero.”

So Yong rolls her eyes. “I don’t treat him like that,” she argues, but even as she says the words, she wonders. 

Cheoljong gives her a meaningful look.

“I suppose he looked after me all my life,” she relents. 

“So Yong-ah…” he whispers, “I can see your hesitation when it comes to Byeong In. But we both must face the possibility that he’s the mind behind the escalating situation in the south. What if he stands in your way again…? What if he stands in mine?” 

So Yong is quiet, finding herself questioning beliefs she’d long taken as unassailable facts. 

“What would you have me do?” he presses on. 

A tense moment passes before So Yong realizes what Cheoljong is telling her.  What Cheoljong is asking from her. Wordlessly, she steps forward and wraps her arms around his middle. She feels him freeze for a brief moment before embracing her back, tucking her head under his chin.

“What would you have me do?” he repeats, whispering against hair. 

It occurs to So Yong that she's never really put into words the depth of her feelings for Cheoljong. She’d always believed that her actions spoke the words from her heart, but she realizes in that moment that words are just as important. Words breathe life into a deed. Words turn feelings to facts.  

So Yong pulls back slighty, just enough so she can meet his eyes… anxious brown eyes searching her own. 

"Your Majesty…. To me… you are starlight. A twinkle in the dark. A beacon in the night. When I lose my way, you find me anyway.  No matter when or where, I only want you there."  

Reaching out, So Yong cups his cheek, her thumb drifting across his cheekbone, her eyes tracking the movement of her finger on his cheek. 

“ So if Byeong In stands in your way… if anyone does…You must always choose to come back to me, safe.” she whispers softly, repeating his earlier words to her. “At whatever cost.... At whomever’s expense.” 

“So Yong-ah,” he whispers and leans forward until his forehead rests against hers.

There is a note of awe in his voice, as though he cannot quite believe her words. To silence any remaining doubts, So Yong tilts her head and kisses him.

Cheoljong kisses her back almost instantly, threading his fingers through her hair and curling them around the back of her neck. His arm around her waist draws her closer; his mouth claims hers -soft and slow, and then, fierce and urgent.

So Yong wonders how Cheoljong's kisses feel familiar yet new. How it makes her feel hot and dizzy and lightheaded. How it makes her want to dissolve into a mindless puddle of tingly sensations.

"So Yong-ah," he rasps when he pulls back. He says her name in a tone of profound yearning. 

She couldn't tell whether a second or an eternity passed, just that she could feel his heart pounding against hers. 

“Why were you hiding in the well?” she asks him later, one arm hanging loosely around his neck, another resting above his heart. 

“I promised my mother I would hide there until it’s safe. I thought maybe she would come back for me.” 

A fissure forms right in the middle of So Yong’s heart.

“What happened to your mother?” The question escapes her before she could reel it in. 

“It was a long time ago,” he dismisses, but the words come out strangled and small, almost filled with anguish. 

Undeterred, So Yong ventures a guess carefully. “I was quite young, but I remember the servants talking about executions…. Your mother’s life wasn’t spared either, was it?”

“My last memory of my mother was her begging me to climb down the well. She asked me to hide until she’d come back and get me. I never saw her again.”

A child’s life over a mother’s - a cruel twist of fate she understands completely. She lets his gaze burn against hers as if she could somehow see his past through his eyes. 

“I don’t have memories of my mother. Sometimes, I wonder if she would still be alive if it weren’t for me. Dongmongseupseup is her book.”

“You said you wanted to die.”

“I wanted to see my mother.” 

“You shouldn’t feel guilty over your mother’s death.”

“Neither should you.” 

They were both quiet for a while, staring at each other as the moments draw out.

“You always had a proclivity for courting death… for danger, didn’t you, So Yong-ah?” He chuckles, but it sounds forced, and it sends a sharp pang through her heart. 

She shifts uncomfortably, muttering as she stumbles over what to say next, realizing the depth of Cheoljong’s wounds for the first time, and then lamenting over the fact that he’s never heard an acknowledgement or an apology, much less an attempt at atonement from those who wronged him.  Somehow, So Yong has the irrational thought that she owes him words of penance, if not, perhaps restitution. 

Before she loses her nerve, So Yong reaches for his hand, wrapping her soft, slender fingers around his larger, calloused ones.

“I’m sorry. For what happened to you… and your family,” she stammers, forcing the words past her lips as her heart breaks for the child orphaned by politics, and the man forced to make nice with the people who executed his family. 

“It’s not your sin to atone,” he says quietly, but something in his eyes softens. 

In his quiet words, So Yong hears the depths of his sorrow, and her heart responds with the slow burn of rage. She feels the inexplicable urge to promise Cheoljong the suffering of those who hurt him, to exact vengeance with superior inventiveness and endless torment. 

“I will help you get them,” she vows, struggling to keep her voice level. “And it will end with rivers of your enemies' blood.” 

“‘What is it with your clan and bloodthirst?” Cheoljong says, regarding So Yong with a mixture of affection and mild scorn. He tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear, his eyes soft and warm and bright. “Remind me never to cross you.” 

“You did, once... Twice. A few times, actually.” So Yong points out, amused. “I’ve yet to make you suffer for those,” she adds chuckling.

“I did. I still do,” he says, serious again. He leans forward to plant a kiss on her forehead, then her nose, then her cheek. So Yong angles her head, anticipating his mouth on hers, but he purposely avoids her lips. 

A small sound of protest escapes So Yong when Cheoljong lands a kiss at the corner of her lips. Then the line of her jaw. The skin below her ear. Still refusing to kiss her. 

Frustrated, So Yong weaves her arms up his shoulders, urging Cheoljong to kiss her. She feels the self-satisfied smirk on his lips, when his mouth finally brushes against hers. She makes a mental note to get him for his impertinence later… but her thoughts dissolve the moment Cheoljong's tongue teases the seam of her lips. So Yong opens up immediately, taking as much as he's giving, marveling at his tongue's wicked ministrations, and eliciting a moan from deep in her throat.

So Yong clings to Cheoljong, losing herself fully to the feel of his delicious mouth on hers, of his warm body pressed against hers. She keeps her eyes closed, savoring the sensation of  Cheoljong’s hands on her face, down her back, on her hip; her need to be held, to be touched by Cheoljong turns almost visceral. 

His groan vibrates down So Yong's  throat as he kisses her. When Cheoljong pulls back, she sees her own naked need reflected in his heated gaze.

"I love the way you look when I touch you," he says gruffly, zapping every rational thought in So Yong's mind.  

Inexplicably happy, she raises up on her tiptoes and kisses him again, pressing her body against his, wanting nothing and no one, to ever come between them. 

When Cheoljong's hands drift down her lower back to lift her against him, So Yong wastes no time, she wraps her legs around his waist, slipping her hands through the opening of his clothes, craving the heat of his skin. 

"Your Majesty, please..." She moans without conscious thought, surrendering fully to the flurry of sensations racing through her body. 

His answering breath is a rasp, and the muscles in his shoulders bunch as he lifts her, and carries her towards the beddings.

Later, when So Yong pushes off his clothes over his shoulders, there are no more interruptions. 

–-

The Next Day

Cheoljong chews on his food happily as he sits from across So Yong at Daejojeon. He had just finished his morning session with his ministers, and decided to share a meal with the queen. Bowls of different sizes are laid out on a low table in between them.

He stares at So Yong as she grimaces, seemingly unhappy with the stew in front of her. The dark look on her face is in stark contrast to her rose-colored dangui . 

"Everything alright?" He asks as he sets his chopsticks on the table. If he's being honest the dish is good; perhaps, not one to be considered a culinary chef d'oeuvre, but it isn't terrible. 

So Yong frowns. "I feel so tired. And I don't mean to be so fussy, but this stew is awful," she complains. "Hong Yeon!" -she calls out to her maid- "tell the royal chef to make me something else!"

Hong Yeon saunters closer, and eyes the bowl the queen had just pushed away. A look of confusion crosses her face when she sees the pristine looking dish.  “Is there something in particular you’d like the Royal Chef to prepare, Your Highness?” 

So Yong shakes her head irritably, “Perhaps a soup; and tell him to season it properly.” So Yong’s face crumples in distaste. “This one is bland.” 

Hong Yeon nods and stalks off, but the baffled expression on the maid’s face does not escape Cheoljong. Neither he nor Hong Yeon has seen So Yong nitpick a dish before. 

“The Royal Chef has one job; he should at least do it well,” So Yong grouses, scrunching up her face. 

“How was your meeting with the ministers today?” she asks cheerfully… as if she had not just had a conniption over the taste of her stew, and the three other dishes she had sent back in the last hour. One, she claims, is too spicy, another is bitter, and the last one, bland.

Having spent months trying to understand So Yong, Cheoljong can usually infer the source of her aggravation.  Him, usually. But not today. Today, he hasn’t the faintest idea why So Yong is so short-tempered. 

“My queen…” he starts, gauging her reaction. “Is there something you want to tell me…?” He lets his voice trail off in an attempt to get So Yong to open up.

So Yong cants her head, seemingly bewildered by his question. Her face is a picture of calm and innocence. “Me? I don’t follow.” 

“You seem a little cranky today,” he says, to which he regrets as soon as the words pass through his lips. 

“Cranky?” she screeches. Her mouth tightens into a thin line, as she glares at Cheoljong. “I asked a question about your meeting, and I am ‘cranky’?”  He can see So Yong’s superior effort to keep herself from screaming at him.

“I’m sorry,” Cheoljong responds quietly in an effort to placate her. He decides to drop the subject because he has learned, perhaps the hard way, not to eclipse her anger. The thought brings a smile to his face.

After months of trying to understand So Yong, Cheoljong had come to the conclusion that she is a complex woman with layers of compassion and courage, who, much to his consternation also has a natural flair for mischief and mayhem. But it is the contradictions of her character that he finds so endearing. Calm and chaos. Silk and sword. Fire and frost. 

 But there is one thing So Yong is not. Mercurial. When she is furious, she can be terrifying. When she’s happy, she can light up an entire palace. But she was never choleric one second, and cheerful the next. Like she is at that very moment. 

“Were the ministers well-behaved?” she asks again. The jolly smile is back on her face, as though she had not just snapped at him. He credits her capricious mood to her complex character and decides not to push her further. 

“Your clan is unexpectedly…. gracious.” He replies, snickering at the memory of his earlier meeting. His ministers had never been so agreeable. 

“That’s good. Is the Royal Secretary back from the dead?” she asks gleefully. 

“You seem to have it in for the Royal Secretary, My Queen,” he observes, amused at So Yong’s annoyance with the poor minister. 

“He’s a spineless prick,” she declares simply, shrugging her shoulders. “Never liked him.” 

Cheoljong cannot help but chuckle, “He was looking particularly healthy earlier… ”

“I would have finished his miserable existence.” 

“It would not do you good to murder your own kin,” Cheoljong admonishes So Yong kindly. Murder truly is a common idiosyncracy among her clan , he muses quietly.

“You call it murder, I call it missed opportunity,” replies So Yong blandly, rolling her eyes.

His answering laugh echoes through Daejojeon.

“Your Highness,” interrupts Hong Yeon’s voice once more. She enters the antechamber, carrying a tray with So Yong’s steaming soup. She places the bowl in front of So Yong carefully. “It looks delicious!” she says with a flourish before hauling herself to her feet. 

So Yong stares at the bowl and wrinkles her nose in unconcealed disgust. 

“What’s wrong?” Cheoljong asks, completely baffled at So Yong’s reaction. From where he sits, he could smell the appetizing aroma of herbs, seeds, and condiments. 

“Ugh.. that stench!!” she grumbles, her face contorting in revulsion. “Hong Yeon!” she calls out to her maid once more. “Take it away from me please…”

Something is definitely off with her, Cheoljong concludes.

–-

A Few Days Later

Feeling slightly nauseous, So Yong leaves Daejojeon and heads to the library, hoping a change of scenery would make her feel better.  She is seated at one of the tables,  browsing through books, when Byeong In barges in.  

“Your Highness,” she hears Byeong In’s curt greeting.

So Yong looks up to find her adoptive cousin standing directly in front of her. From the murderous expression on his face, she knows it isn’t a social visit. 

“Why did you do that?” he accuses her, without so much of a context or preface. 

So Yong is careful not to give anything away so she keeps her expression neutral. “I’m afraid, I don’t understand the question.”

“Why did you do that to the ministers?” 

"What exactly are you accusing me of, Byeong In? You will have to be more specific." She keeps her tone pragmatic, restrained, suppressing the urge to sound disdainful.

Her indifference must have angered him more because he moves closer, his eyes blazing. “Your stint at Oktajeong.” 

So Yong holds her ground. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replies innocently. 

“They said it was you! You were at Oktajeong!” he thunders. 

So Yong lets his angry words wash over her instead of responding in kind. There is nothing to be gained from provoking him further. But not responding to his accusations, doesn’t mean she’s going to nod meekly and cower to his tirades. 

She stands slowly and smooths her skirts. “Their word against mine.” 

“You poisoned the ministers!” he yells, aggravated even more.

“Are they dead?” So Yong asks coolly. She tries to hold back the satisfaction with her nifty handiwork at Oktajeong, but it is difficult. It also occurs to her that Byeong In accusing her of poisoning the ministers means that he has not found out about the treasonous confession she had coerced the ministers to sign. At least not yet. 

“No….they are not,” he stammers, looking flustered at her insouciance.

“How are they poisoned, if, as you confirmed, they are alive?” she inquires deceptively innocent.

"Don't try to be clever with me!" Byeong In snaps. "Tell me the truth, So Yong-ah. Were you behind the attack on the ministers?"

Byeong In’s eyes hold So Yong’s firmly, accusingly, allowing no room for pretense. As if she’s the same naive girl who clung to him like his own sister. But So Yong is no longer a child, and she’s neither a woman of frailty, nor indecision. She will not cower in the face of intimidation. She is the Queen of Joseon, and hers is a fortitude forged in fire. 

“I have nothing to do with the attack on the ministers,” she declares firmly, meeting Byeong In’s cold censorious stare dead on.

Sometimes, a lie is the difference between life and death.       

Sometimes, you lie to protect someone you love.       

Sometimes, you lie because it is more credible than the truth. 

And then sometimes, you lie because the only weapon you’re willing to use against someone you hold dear, is guile.

“Did the king put you up to this?” 

An angry rush of resentment passes through So Yong’s body, at the implication that, somehow, she can be so easily manipulated by Cheoljong, that her mind is feeble and lacking… as though she’s nothing but a naive accomplice, rather than a force in her own right. 

“First you accuse me of poisoning the ministers. Now you imply that I have no head of my own… that His Majesty controls what I do. I do not know which accusation angers me more.”

“What you did is very dangerous -”

“Kim Byeong In.” So Yong cuts him softly, but no less imperiously. “I would be very careful of what you accuse me of.”

“So Yong-ah…”

“If you so insist to accuse me so callously, you will address me as ‘Your Highness.’”

“I’m doing all I can to protect you!”

“Is that so? Then where were you when they almost drowned me in the lake?” 

“Your Highness, I didn’t know… I would have stopped it if I knew.” His face creases in anguish.

So Yong stares down Byeong In, her childhood friend. Her clan's most trusted lieutenant. Her enemies’ most formidable linchpin. 

“I think we can both agree on two things. One, you cannot protect me. I don't hold that against you.” So Yong shakes her head as she speaks. “And two, I don’t need you to do that for me. I can take care of myself.” 

“We are your family…” he says softly. “How can you turn your back on our clan?” 

“My father is my family. Kim Hwan is family. You are my family… At least, I thought you were. His Majesty…” So Yong pauses to take a deep breath. “His Majesty is my family. Everyone else is a stranger….” she says as her voice quiets to a whisper. 

“His Majesty -”

“If you continue to undermine His Majesty’s authority, by extension, you undermine mine.”

“His Majesty is using you!” he erupts, before expelling a breath to calm himself.  Then, as if he remembers something, he adds, almost like an afterthought. "I don't wish to alarm you, Your HIghness, but… the king may be behind the attack on you. The scar.." Byeong In's gaze goes to her scar.

So Yong wills her expression to remain neutral. "And you found this out how…?"

"I've spoken to the Jo ministers…"

"'Spoken?'  Or conspired?" It takes all of So Yong to keep her voice even, to appear circumspect and stoic, when everything about the conversation vexes her.

"You Highness! The king is a very dangerous man!"

"Conspiring with the Jo clan and plotting against His Majesty is more dangerous still."

“He is a liar and a fraud, and he is using you.” He lashes out. “I can keep you safe. I can still help you return to our clan. They can ensure your safety."

So Yong feels her increasing annoyance give way to anger, so she clenches her fist, her nails digging into her skin. She reins in her emotions, cognizant of its destructive power over her. Anger is a waste of energy. It numbs the senses and it cripples one’s judgment. 

“How? By using the farmers, herb gatherers and the thieves to subvert His Majesty’s authority?” 

He doesn't deny it, but So Yong takes his momentary silence as admission. 

Seeing an opening, So Yong presses on. “You are behind it. You rile them up so you can use them against His Majesty. It will give you cause for mutiny, and dethrone him.”

It is Byeong In’s turn to play innocent. “I have nothing to do with it.” 

“I can tell you’re lying,” she bluffs, astounded by her calm. “What is your angle, Byeong In?” He is not the only one capable of hurling accusations. 

“The farmers are angry because the king is ineffective. He doesn’t listen to their petitions,” He sounds scornful. Dismissive. Too sure of himself.

Behold the power of a man’s ego , So Yong thought. 

“Your words border on treason, Byeong In. I would tread lightly, if I were you,” So Yong warns. Her eyes narrow as she pins Byeong In with an imperious look. 

“How is it treason when I speak the truth of his incompetence?”

“Whose fault is it that the farmers’ appeals have not been heard by His Majesty? The Minister of Agriculture is too busy lining his pockets to look into the farmers’ needs. And yet you blame His Majesty. How convenient.”

“Your Highness, you should not be worrying about such things…” 

So Yong bristles once more at the insinuation that she has no place in politics, no mind for anything other than…. needlework. It is bad enough that he doubts So Yong’s intellect, it’s even worse how he fails, repeatedly, to see the courage, hidden just underneath her quiet conviction.  

“What should I worry about then…. embroidery?” And just because she can no longer suppress the urge to taunt Byeong In, she adds, in a tone steeped in sarcasm, “or perhaps child-bearing?”

Her offending remark stuns Byeong In to silence, so she forges ahead. “You let yourself be an instrument of our clan’s malfeasance, Byeong In. How are you not repulsed when you look at yourself?" 

“Our clan demands loyalty,” he shoots back, frustration leaking in his tone. 

“So do I,” she returns, heaviness settling in her chest, seeing Byeong In for what he stands for: his utter disregard of her clan’s atrocities, his tolerance for hauteur and pomp, and his callous indifference to the concept of accountability… all in the name of loyalty. 

“All of this for the king? You would turn your back on your clan, on all of us, on me… for the king?” He laments, looking utterly broken. 

“You have always protected me, until now, in ways I never even thought I needed. But I am neither dainty nor dim,” she admonishes Byeong In, hoping he would see both her merits and limitations. 

“Your Highness, I’m trying to keep you safe," he pleads, regarding So Yong with a beseeching stare.

“You want to keep me safe, on your own terms. Like a bird in a cage…. It doesn’t work that way, Byeong In. You don’t get to clip someone’s wings in the name of safety."

When he doesn't reply, So Yong appeals to him, "This madness has gone on long enough, Byeong In. So, I ask you. Help me, please. We should put a stop to it. We owe it to the people of this country not to leave them at the mercy of an opportunistic elite.”

"You cannot trust, His Majesty," he implores So Yong in return, seemingly unable to see anything beyond the limits of loyalty. To their clan. And in a sad twisted sense, to her. 

"Then I cannot trust you,” So Yong replies with a note of defeat. “ Orabeoni, you are either with me or against me,” –with a miserable shake of her head, she adds– “There is no in-between.”

It feels as if they are having two completely different conversations, because he replies with, “My heart is yours.. always has been." His voice is fervent, tender, steeped in affection So Yong could never return. He extends a hand, palms up, as if to offer it to So Yong. 

“And my heart is his… always will be.” she replies quietly, ignoring his gesture. It is funny how the heart only yearns for the one who has the capacity to destroy it.

There are no more words to be said, and they both fall silent. 

“Maybe this is for the best, Byeong In. At least we are both clear where we stand,” she says finally, breaking the silence. An incredible sense of sadness and finality settle over So Yong.

When she set out to stand with Cheoljong, she had been too naive; she had not realized that allegiances can turn enemies to friends, and friends to adversaries.

At that, So Yong pushes past Byeong In and leaves him standing in the middle of the quiet library. There is no sense in prolonging an ill-fated conversation. 

Maybe in a different lifetime, if circumstances were different, she might stand by him. Might even return his affections.

But in this lifetime, Byeong In wants chaos. So Yong needs order. 

He doesn’t appreciate her flair for danger or her errant soul, let alone her ingenuity.

And he doesn’t make her toes curl or her heart sing.

Not like Cheoljong does.

Chapter Text

Cheoljong wonders for the thousandth time, in the last few days, why the queen has been blowing hot and cold.  

He orchestrated a run-in with the queen in the morning, by taking a detour from Huijeongjeon to Seonjeongjeon. It caused him to be late at the council meeting, but he thought it was worth it as the extra distance he covered allowed him to see So Yong. She greeted him with an easy smile… the kind that reaches her eyes. The kind that requires no thought or effort.  The kind that goes straight to his heart.

It was, of course, a stark contrast to her foul mood in the evening. 

“Your Majesty, are you here to spend the night at Daejojeon again?” she asked him curtly, eyeing him as though he brought the plague to her chambers. And so with a heavy heart, he wished her good night and left Daejojeon. 

That is how he finds himself spending the night at Hong's residence, instead of tucking the queen to bed.

“You look distressed, Your Majesty.” 

Hong’s curious tone cuts through Cheoljong’s thoughts. He looks up from the documents laid out on the table to meet the director's gaze. He sees a flicker of amusement in Hong’s eyes, his lips curled in his signature smirk.

Cheoljong glowers at the mocking expression Hong wears when his attention wanders. But in an instant, he sees only the memory of So Yong's annoyed, dark eyes.

“Just lost in thought,” Cheoljong fibs, but he doesn’t bother to disguise his lack of focus on the conversation. 

Hong bristles at Cheoljong’s inattentiveness, but he lets it go. He repeats his earlier update on the progress made by his spies, particularly in the south where the queen’s clan’s influence seems to be growing. 

To Cheoljong’s right is his ever surly brother. There is nothing in his expression that suggests annoyance, but the night does not make him look cheerful either. To be fair, Yeongpyeong never claimed to be a source of good cheer, so it is difficult to take offense from his sullen demeanor. 

“We can call it a night and resume tomorrow,” Hong suggests. “I won’t be surprised if Kim Hwan drops by. I’m in a gambling mood.” 

Yeongpyeong remains quiet. If Cheoljong is being honest, his brother has been more prudent with his words and actions since the queen sent Hwa Jin away. He can see the hurt and accusation in his eyes, but since the consort's exile, they have never spoken about Hwa Jin, or anything else for that matter, again. 

Sometimes, Cheoljong wishes Yeongpyeong would put his anger to words, scream at him, accuse him yet again, but in so many ways, Cheoljong and his brother are so much alike; they both keep a tight lid on their emotions.

A lamp at the corner of Hong’s residence flickers, the flames receding slowly. Cheoljong watches as the flame dies down completely, bathing one corner of the room in shadows. Hong notices it rises from the table. He lights the lamp, and the shadows recede.

“No, let’s finish this,” Cheoljong decides as soon as Hong takes his seat again. 

“We got rid of Kim Jwa Geun, but Kim Byeong In looks to be an even bigger threat. He is challenging your authority overtly." Hong flattens his hands against the table and leans forward. “That sly bastard is out to destroy you."

Yeongpyeong chimes in for the first time that night. “His popularity among the nobility is increasing too, Your Majesty. The queen has managed to diminish the influence of the ministers… but that won’t stop them from plotting against you again.”

Hong expels an exasperated breath. “You may be in control now, Your Majesty, but they are relentless. They won't stop coming after you.”

Cheoljong rubs his brow and squeezes his eyes shut. Such is the nature of power , he thought. You don't control it, it controls you . 

“Why don’t you use the signed confession the queen gave you and make an example out of these ministers. Cut off their heads, as the queen advised,” Hong suggests. Both he and Yeongpyeong stare at Cheoljong expectantly.

He steeples his fingers and leans back. “No. Executing the ministers is counterproductive. I will look like a intolerant murderer out to get those who oppose me. I will not make martyrs out of them.”

Both Hong and Yeongpyong nod in agreement. 

“Keep your spies eyes’ wide open, and make sure they report anything back as soon as possible. The appointed emissary from the south will be joining my council next week.”

“Has the emissary been vetted?” Yeongpyeong asks. “Do we know he’s not in league with Kim Byeong In?"

Hong glares at Yeongpyeong. “Of course he’s been vetted. Do you think I was born yesterday?”

Yeongpyeong crosses his arms and rolls his eyes in response.

“Your Majesty…” Hong begins carefully, as if he’s about to broach a sensitive subject. “Kim Byeong In…”

Cheoljong gives him a meaningful look. “What about Kim Byeong In?”

“The queen…”

“The queen will not betray us for Kim Byeong In,” Cheoljong snaps almost automatically.

Hong rolls his eyes in consternation. “I know she won’t. But now that Kim Byeong In knows how much you…uhm.” Hong pauses and deigns Yeongpyeong a look before continuing.  To his credit, Yeongpyeong looks concerned rather than annoyed. “...how much you care about the queen. He can use Her Highness against you.”

Cheoljong is quiet for several seconds, the weight of Hong’s words washing over him. It’s not that he hasn't considered it before, he has. But he cannot stop So Yong from challenging her own clan, from doing the things she wants to do. 

Sometimes, protecting others means letting them fight battles themselves. “She can take care of herself," Cheoljong says, and as if to convince himself, he adds, "Byeong In will not harm her," but the words sound hollow, even to his own ears. 

Yeongpyeong studies his brother, his features stony. Assessing. “They despise the queen, more than they despise you. They had someone assassinate her simply for taking your side. Imagine what they  would do for that stunt she pulled at Oktajeong…. They will tear her apart." 

It frightens Cheoljong how much So Yong has come to matter to him; it frightens him even more how that could be used against him. And while he is unafraid of what they might do to him, he fears what they could do to her. 

"The queen is not helpless. She knows how to defend herself," Cheoljong asserts, but his words lack conviction. Not because he doesn't believe in So Yong, but because he knows better than to underestimate the queen's own clan.

"Double her guards." Cheoljong adds, but an increased security doesn't quiet the unease that crawls up his spine.

“Your Majesty….” Hong says softly. Somehow, he seems to look older, wiser.. “They will break her to break you.” 

Despite his best efforts, remorse unfurls in Cheoljong's chest, as though he has already failed So Yong again.

--

At Tongmyeongjeon, the following day

An irate Dowager Queen Sunwon slams her fist on the table. “The audacity of those two!” she thunders.  

Kim Byeong In stares at Sunwon, only mildly amused. The golden patterns on her pale blue dangui gleams in the afternoon light. Her clothes crease as she gestures angrily from her elevated position.

Hearing the same diatribe all over again, Byeon In's interest begins to wane. His eyes dart across Tongmyeongjeon, his gaze landing on unopened gifts strewn about the antechamber. He wonders if the gifts are from ministers trying to stay on her good side, despite her very public downfall. 

“I don’t think the queen had anything to do with it,” he declares confidently, trying to pacify the once-powerful woman sitting across from him. 

“You said it yourself, she poisoned the ministers. She threatened them! Where does she get the gall to threaten her own kin?” she erupts. She proceeds to massage her temples with her fingers, as if the conversation requires extreme physical and mental exertion. “That little ingrate!” she yells once more.

“The queen is being controlled by the king,” Byeong In replies smoothly, completely indifferent to the dowager queen’s outbursts. “She fears for her life. She has no choice but to do as she is told.”

The older woman narrows her eyes to slits, looking completely unconvinced. “Are you sure about that, Byeong In?”

“I’m certain. I know the queen better than anyone else. She won't betray us, unless the king has something on her," Byeong In replies, his voice matching the smirk on his face. 

“Did she tell you that herself?” 

Byeong In remembers his recent conversation with So Yong, his heart twisting at the memory. If he’s being honest, it wasn’t a conversation per se, it was an argument and So Yong, in no uncertain terms, had told him to drop dead. But Byeong In is determined, if not tenacious. He is almost certain So Yong will change her stance, as soon as she realizes what a fraud the king is.

“She does not need to. We all know the king has deceived all of us. He is using the queen against us.” 

The Dowager Queen taps her fingers with a rhythmic thrum. “I received news to the contrary.”

“She is being deceived.” His words come out clipped, trying to marshal his fury. “He is manipulating her, taking advantage of her kindness–” and in a tone thick with contempt, he adds, “and her naïveté.”

“I was told the king and the queen are working together. She is no victim.”  Sunwon watches Byeong In, gauging his reaction. “In fact, it is my understanding that those two have colluded to take down the ministers. The king listens to her.” 

Byeong In bites back a string of colorful curses. A dark, incessant emotion at the pit of his stomach is eating him from the inside, like a dark poison. He recognizes it. Jealousy. Outwardly, he summons a look of disdainful disinterest. He will not show the dowager queen a smidgen of jealousy. It makes him look weak. “The queen does not have it in her to betray our clan. If she does, it is only because the king has her in a chokehold.” 

“Don’t underestimate the queen. She’s more cunning than you think.”

Byeong In battles the urge to roll his eyes. He squares his jaw and meets the Dowager Queen’s intimidating stare head-on. “With all due respect, Your Highness, I must disagree. The queen may seem stubborn and insolent but that’s only because she is misinformed.” 

Sunwon cants her head, still looking unconvinced. “Either way, she is broken.”

“You must stop sending assassins her way,” he asserts.

“That was your father’s work,” she mutters, quick to deny her involvement. 

“The queen is still a member of our clan. Our enemy is the king, not the queen.” In Byeong In’s mind, loyalty demands that the queen should not be harmed, and loyalty is bigger than Kim Jwa Geun, or their clan.

“Whether she’s being manipulated  or not, the queen is a liability.”

Byeong In knows the older woman is testing him, so he resists the urge to defend So Yong again. Instead, he says, in a tone that belies his indignation, “The solution to our problem is simple.”

“I want my power back, Byeong In,” she demands, staring Byeong In down. 

“Maybe, you want a new king,” he suggests, his tone dripping with malice. 

Sunwon arches a brow. “How do you propose we do that?”

Byeong In shrugs his shoulders, a plan forming in his head. Rancor coils up his throat, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.

A vindictive smile flashes across the Dowager Queen’s features, all angry lines fading from her face. “Maybe you are better than your father, Byeong In. I must admit, I had some doubts before.”

Byeong In responds with a vengeful smile of his own. “I am better than my father.” 

–-

Meanwhile, in the library

So Yong is standing next to a shelf that holds rare and precious volumes. She hooks a finger over the top of the spine and pulls a book off the shelf.

She starts thumbing through the pages when Lady Choi’s voice interrupts her. “Your Highness, the maid is here to see you,” she says. 

So Yong smiles. She had bribed one of the maids to keep an eye on Hwa Jin, and now that Hwa Jin is no more, it is time for her to reward her. 

“Your Highness,” comes the maid’s timid voice from behind her.

“Han Yu Gong,” So Yong says, remembering her name. “You have served me well.” She closes the book and wedges it back on the shelf. 

“Thank you, Your Highness,” the maid responds. 

She takes out a tiny purse filled with coins and places it atop a row of books. “Your reward.”

The maid inches closer and grabs the purse. She tucks it into her clothes covertly. 

So Yong steals a glance at the maid before moving to the other side of the shelf. She takes in the maid’s tiny frame and rounded face; she is young, perhaps no older than So Yong. “I hope that is enough for you to nurse your mother back to health,” she says kindly. “It is much more than the amount you need.”

The young woman bows in deference. “I’m grateful for your generosity, Your Highness,” she replies, relief written all over her face. 

“You will leave the palace for good, yes?” 

The maid nods meekly, “As you wish, Your Highness.”

“And the last thing I asked you?” 

“Ah yes, Your Highness… here.” The young woman takes out a rolled sheet of paper hidden from underneath her clothes. She drops the rolled paper atop a row of books, the same place where So Yong left the coins earlier.

So Yong takes the paper and unrolls it, inspecting the item she had the maid steal. “Did the Dowager Queen Jo see this?” 

“Yes, Your Highness. Lady Hwa– The former consort was working on it during one of the Dowager Queen’s visits.”

So Yong admires the painting of flowers in front of her. “She’s quite talented,” she says begrudgingly. Apparently, she’s as good a liar as she is a painter, she thought. 

“She made a few portraits of His Majesty too. I kept one… would you like that too, Your Highness?”

So Yong shakes her head. “No, these flowers are perfect. Keep the painting of His Majesty, if you want it. You might be able to sell it.” 

A small smile appears on the young maid’s face, but she remains quiet. 

“You did well, Han Yu Gong,” So Yong says sincerely. “Remember, tell no one about this.”  

“Of course, Your Highness.” 

So Yong reminds the maid to leave the palace for good, and dismisses her. Thereafter, she makes her way towards a desk on the far side of the library and opens the painting once more. She lays it out on the table face down and starts writing. 

Once finished, she admires her handiwork, a sinister smile unfurling across her face. The Dowager Queen Jo had always pegged her as a sheep. It is time she meets the wolf. 

–-

The next day at Seonjeongjeon

Cheoljong sits at his table inside Seonjeongjeon, his shoulders hunched over several scrolls, stacked neatly on a tray. He’s been reviewing reports from governors all morning. 

After reading, he rolls the document laid out in front of him and drops it gingerly to the tray on his left. 

He sighs in frustration.

It has been a couple of days since he had a decent conversation with So Yong. The cold shoulder treatment has gone on long enough, his patience is wearing thin. Try as he might, he cannot, for the life of him, figure out why she’s suddenly avoiding him at all cost. 

So Yong has spurned his presence the last few days, and from what his eunuch told him, she is rather short tempered with everyone recently. He wonders yet again whether it is he whom she finds so aggravating. If so, what has he done recently to annoy her so much? 

He suspects the queen has found out about his secret visit to the dungeon. He shakes his head, for if she did, his reckoning would have been far worse. 

He hears the eunuch announce Prince Yeongpyeong. “Let him in,” he says in response. 

Yeongpyeong saunters towards Cheoljong a few seconds later, “Your Majesty,” he says, greeting him formally. He feels the invisible wall that separates them and he wonders how to breach it. 

“I found the woman you asked me to find. She’s a slave. If you grant her pardon, she can be reunited with her daughter once more.”

“That’s good news,” Cheoljong says in response, but says no more. 

Yeongpyeong nods. It looks as though he wants to say something else, but no words come. 

From the expression on his brother’s face, Cheoljong knows that if things are the way they used to be, Yeongpyeong would chastise him for making such an effort for a maid, for a slave. He would ask why Cheoljong is wasting time on them, and he would tell him that he cannot give up on anyone.

“We cannot give up on anyone,” Cheoljong declares out loud, as if to answer his brother’s unspoken question. “If we give up on a single person now, it will make it easier to give up on everyone later.” 

“You gave up on someone ,” Yeongpyeong replies. The slight is deliberate, but it isn’t borne out of anger, but of anguish.

“Sometimes, cruelty is the kindest gift you can give someone,” Cheoljong says, his voice gentle and deep in the quiet. “Because you can save a person from the world, but you cannot save them from themselves.”

A tense silence ensues.  Cheoljong dares a glance at Yeongpyeong, whose gaze is fixed on the scrolls, his eyes refusing to meet Cheoljong's. There is a pensive frown on his face, as though he’s weighing Cheoljong’s words against his decision on Hwa Jin. 

In his mind's eye, he sees him that night at the dungeon, beseeching. Yeongpyeong has never begged Cheoljong for anything, until that night. There is nothing I can do, brother, he remembers saying, as Yeongpyeong’s face darkened in a mixture of guilt and grief. 

He pulls himself back to the present, and sees Yeongpyeong open his mouth as if to say something, but clams up almost immediately. Cheoljong doesn’t risk breaking the silence either, unsure how to assuage his brother’s despair. 

Much to Cheoljong’s relief, he hears the doors open once more. He turns his head expecting to see the eunuch. To his surprise, he sees So Yong saunter in, looking prim and proper in pink. A smile blossoms on her face, as though she's pleased to see him.

“Your Majesty,” she says in greeting, her head dipping demurely. Warmth riffles through Cheoljong at the sound of her voice. 

He smiles with equal warmth, almost automatically, for there is nothing else that could ease his heart so completely. “My queen,” he says, as he stands to meet So Yong in the middle of Seonjeongjeon, forgetting for one moment that Yeongpyeong is still in the room.

So Yong smiles wider, then deigns Yeongpyeong a polite look.  The prince in turn responds with a polite bow, then turns to Cheoljong and takes his leave. 

Unsure what to do, Cheoljong simply nods and watches his brother’s retreating back. At the last minute, he calls out to him. “Prince Yeongpyeong…” he says, then pauses, uncertain once more what to say next. “Thank you.”

His brother half-turns, regarding him over one shoulder. He bows his head in acknowledgement and walks away. 

So Yong observes the whole awkward exchange but doesn’t say anything until the door closes behind the prince. “What was that about?” she asks. 

“What was what about?” 

So Yong rolls her eyes. “That little awkward thing between you and your brother.”

Cheoljong shakes his head, unsure how to answer. “It’s been…”

“Tense?” So Yong supplies for him. She walks closer to the table and eyes the trays of scrolls. 

Cheoljong hesitates for a moment. “In a word, yes.” When So Yong eyes him over her shoulder, he follows her back to the table, then sits down. 

“You should talk to him, Your Majesty,” she asserts softly. "I suspect he’s still mad at you for the same reason he challenged you in that ridiculous fight…. The whole situation is probably harder on him than it is on you.” 

Cheoljong says nothing; he keeps his eyes forward.

"You don’t have to forget his mistakes, but try to feel his pain. Suffering is the same for everyone." At Cheoljong’s silence, she continues, “He lost her… you cannot let him lose you too."

Cheoljong had anticipated the rift between himself and Yeongpyeong but what shocks him is So Yong’s sympathy. She may have found Yeongpyeong’s earlier prejudice completely deplorable, but she seems to understand his brother’s bitterness better than he does.

“I will speak to him,” Cheoljong says, still completely uncertain how to do it, but vows to at least try.

“I probably don’t have the moral high ground to say this but… Your Majesty, you should not give up on family.”

Cheoljong nods, suddenly feeling miserable. It is the longest time he and Yeongpyeong have been unfriendly towards each other. After a brief pause, he looks at So Yong, taking in the sympathetic smile on her face. “Are you feeling better?” 

 His question seems to fluster her into silence. “I wasn’t ill,” she retorts. 

“You seem out of sorts the last few days,” he replies carefully, terrified of saying anything that might steal her smile again.

For a moment there is a spark of annoyance in So Yong’s eyes that Cheoljong immediately finds himself holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. But the look of irritation is gone almost instantaneously. 

“So tell me, what have you been up to lately?” she asks brightly, taking the seat to his right. She eyes the stack of scrolls on the table and makes a face. “You have a lot on your hands.”

Cheoljong shakes his head. So Yong's mercurial mood drives him crazy, but at that moment, he thought it wise not to bring it up again. Instead, he apprises her about the reports from the governors… about his mounting concern with the increasing influence of Byeong In to the nobility. 

As Cheoljong speaks, he feels his burdens melt away. So Yong watches him with discerning eyes,  keeping a thoughtful expression on her face as she listens to every word he says, interrupting only to clarify certain points. Her reaction is neither the sickening puffery, nor the polite attention afforded a king, but real, genuine interest.

“Do you want to hear what I think?” she asks when he’s finished talking. 

“Always,” he replies automatically. Cheoljong would not dare discount her ideas, for in a palace ruled by men, it had been the ingenuity of one woman, So Yong, who had solidified his hold on power.  

“Byeong In is filling in the power vacuum left by Kim Jwa Geun. He is strong, young, astute, charming… he is popular among the nobility.”

Cheoljong suppresses the urge to roll his eyes at So Yong’s description of Byeong In, “Do you have a point?” he asks curtly.

“All I’m saying, Your Majesty, is that you are just as charismatic, probably more… if the maids' fawning description of you is to be believed.” She rolls her eyes, as if to indicate that the maids’ account of his capabilities are ridiculously overstated. “Play the game. Spend time with your noblemen.”

“Just the maids…?” he teases So Yong, eyeing her impishly. 

“If you are fishing for compliments, Your Majesty, you are barking up the wrong tree,” she replies with teasing censure in her tone. She lets out a long-suffering sigh before continuing. “Just because you’re king, doesn’t mean you’re popular. You need to make some effort.”

Cheoljong chuckles, then shoots So Yong a smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the side, as though he knows exactly which of his smiles make So Yong’s skin tingle. To his utter disbelief, So Yong’s response is an exasperated exhale.  

Feeling chastened, Cheoljong's expression turns serious again, almost grave.  “I don’t have time for brown-nosing, So Yong-ah. I am trying to run a country, fix the evils your clan has wrought upon all of us…. Not increase my popularity.”

“You call it brown-nosing, I call it politics. Your Majesty, I like that you always think like a king, but even you must recognize that certain situations require you to act like a courtier. You need to be relatable.”

Cheoljong acknowledges her point with a nod, but remains still, willing her to continue.

“I appreciate what you’re doing for the majority of your people… but do not lose sight of the nobles." So Yong pauses for a moment to glance up at him. “They may be few, but they can easily plot against you, especially when their influence is threatened.” 

“Nobody is threatening their influence.”

So Yong opens her mouth as if to chide him, but closes it and speaks softly instead,“I know, but if I were Byeong In, I would make it appear that way…” 

Cheoljong sees the truth in her words. He detests the politics, the need to nurse bruised egos, but he also knows that power can not be controlled, nor sustained by one man alone. "It looks like you have a suggestion in mind."

“Remember that night when I was at Oktajeong?”

“How can I forget?”

“You met with some of the ministers…I suggest you do more of that. Invite a few more noblemen. Make friends.”

Cheoljong sighs heavily. “I will consider it.”

“In the palace, loyalties shift as quickly as the stars. However those loyalties shift, we need to make sure the nobility is beholden to you.” 

“Alright, My Queen. I see your point," he relents. "But I have burdened you enough with my problems. Did you come here to tell me something…?” 

“I did," she replies, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. 

“Tell me.” 

So Yong seems to think for a moment then groans in frustration.  “I don’t remember, Your Majesty. Why can’t I remember?,” she exclaims, clearly flustered. “I don’t know why I’m so forgetful these days!”

“It will come to you,” Cheoljong assures her, but wonders himself. Something is truly off with her , he thought, his worries deepening. 

So Yong meets Cheoljong’s kind eyes, but her scattered wits couldn’t form the thoughts that she knows are there. Frustrated, she rises abruptly, the motion causing her to sway on her feet. 

In an instant, Cheoljong is at her side, holding her arm to steady her. “So Yong-ah,” he bursts out, eyeing her with alarm. “Let me call the physician.”

“You worry too much!” she snaps. “I’m fine. I just stood up so quickly.” 

Cheoljong searches So Yong’s face, looking for any sign of illness. He sees only defiance, and a blush creeping up her cheeks. He cannot help but smile, glad for an excuse to hold her. Unable to resist the urge, he wraps her in an embrace. 

She squeaks in surprise, then stills for a second before squirming, trying to rid herself of Cheoljong. 

“You need to see the physician.”

“Do you have to be so hard on this?” she retorts, still trying to free herself from Cheoljong's embrace.

He holds her tighter for a second, if only to tease her. Chuckling, he says, “Me, hard ?….You really shouldn’t tempt me with such delicious insinuations.”

So Yong groans in a mixture of annoyance and amusement, pushing at his chest in an attempt to loosen his hold.  “I feel that you’re laughing at my expense, Your Majesty.”

Cheoljong’s arms slacken just long enough for her to smack his chest, hard. But it doesn’t hurt, if anything it makes him laugh harder.  For the first time in a week, he sees her smile. Eventually, her wry amusement dissolves into laughter. 

But his joy is short-lived because, in an instant, her face turns serious again, as though she has discovered an age-old secret. “I remember!”

So Yong steps back immediately. “I came to tell you that I have something on Dowager Queen Jo.”

“What do you have on her?”

“A tale of woe,” So Yong replies cryptically. 

“Is it a legitimate story, or a fabricated one?” Cheoljong asks, humor in his tone. 

"Does it matter?" So Yong scoffs. 

"Dare I ask what it's about?"

So Yong shakes her head, the corners of her lips lifting into a wicked smile. “A story doesn't have to be legit. It just needs to be credible. Compelling.”

–-

Later that day

So Yong is met with the strong scent of incense; too strong in fact that she had to resist the urge to cover her nose. In spite of the bright afternoon sun outside, the interior of the Dowager Queen’s residence is dark and gloomy, like it exists eternally in the middle of a storm. At the center of the hall, is a portrait of the late king, surrounded by burning incense.  

“Your Highness. It is a pleasure to see you here.” The Dowager Queen Jo greets her with a smile that does not quite reach her eyes. 

“I apologize that I don’t get to visit you as much as I want to,” So Yong replies in equal measure. Saccharine. Obsequious. 

They sit from across each other, the older woman eyeing her with a mixture of curiosity and cunning, like a predator sizing prey. But So Yong is no prey. 

“I came to give you a painting.” 

“Oh? I did not realize you paint… I thought you’re more of the embroidery type?” The dowager grins, but her expression is nowhere near friendly.

“I am more of the you-stab-me-I-stab-you-back type, actually," So Yong replies in a lilting tone that conceals the venom underneath.

“What an uncouth thing to say!” the older woman exclaims snidely, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

“I hear you have been spreading rumors about me,” So Yong intones, careful not to infuse any emotion into her words. 

“I do not know what others told you, but I do not spread rumors. I spend most of my days here,” she replies indignantly, making a sweeping gesture. 

“When I was ill, you told people I was dying. That your, protégé, Hwa Jin, should be the rightful queen. You whispered poisonous words in her ear, used her growing distress and encouraged her to come after me.” 

“How dare you come here and accuse me so brazenly!” the woman snaps. “This is highly unacceptable!”

There are a lot of things So Yong learned recently-- orchestrating chaos from a distance, telling compelling lies, and more importantly wielding the power her title holds. And she intends to wield that power over the passive aggressive woman sitting across from her. 

“If you think you will never be held to account for any of your... rumor mongering, then you overestimate your significance." So Yong tosses Hwa Jin’s painting into the space between herself and the dowager queen. “Your little consort confessed to her sins before I sent her away.”

“You’re lying!”

“She is accused of treason. Why do you think she’s alive? She was granted leniency because she confessed to her crimes. Unfortunately for you, she named you as an accomplice.”

“I do not know what you’re talking about,” the Dowager Queen denies vehemently. 

“Hwa Jin confessed to treason. At the very least , I thought you were complicit. But she went one step further, she said you urged her, coerced her into plotting against His Majesty.” 

"How do I know that the confession is written by the consort?"

"She is no longer a consort, she's a slave," So Yong corrects the dowager queen, her tone reeking of malice and spite. 

"I know your ways, Your Highness. You're deceitful. That's not written by Hwa Jin."  The Dowager Queen levels So Yong a scornful look.

"It's too bad you don't recognize that painting." So Yong retorts, feeling her temper flare. She unfurls the painting, and watches gleefully as the older woman's eyes spark with recognition.

The dowager queen blanches. “You think you are so powerful because His Majesty favors you. I guarantee you, it will not last.”

“You will stop with the rumors you spread about me, Your Highness, or you will follow Hwa Jin in whatever cesspool she has found herself in.”  So Yong declares, flexing her imperious voice - one she has learned to love recently. 

 "That sounds like a threat." 

"It's merely a promise, Your Highness," So Yong responds, her tone frigid. 

“You come here so arrogantly, threatening an elder woman. Your dead mother should be ashamed of you!”

“Just as your dead husband should be ashamed of you,” So Yong responds, equally vicious. 

Stunned, the older woman glares at her but So Yong is not one to be intimidated so easily. Especially not by a fledgling Dowager Queen clinging on to the dying embers of her power. 

“I don’t make threats, Your Highness. But do not test my resolve.”  She pulls herself up and deigns the woman a sinister smile. “Cross me again, Your Highness…” she pauses long enough to point at the portrait hanging at a pedestal, “and both you, and your beloved portrait will go down in flames.”

-–

So Yong is surprised to see Cheoljong waiting for her outside the dowager queen's residence. "What brings you here, Your Majesty?"

"I.. I was worried about you, but it looks like I worried over the wrong woman. Did you get what you came for?"

So Yong chuckles. "Was there any doubt?"

"I would not dare. Come, I want to show you something." 

A few minutes later, So Yong finds herself walking towards the garden. "There is nothing there, Your Majesty. If you recall, the flowers drowned.

Cheoljong gives her a sly grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You'll see."

Filled with curiosity, So Yong increases her pace, thrilled to see what Cheoljong is up to. As they approach the garden, a swath of yellow catches her eye. She steals a glance at Cheoljong, who hangs behind her a half-step, but his lingering smirk gives nothing away.

“Go on,” he urges. So Yong feels the slightest pressure of his hand at the small of her back, urging her towards the garden.

A wordless expression of wonder escapes So Yong’s as she steps into the garden, astounded by the patch of green that is surrounded on all sides by marigolds, orchids and other yellow flowers. The drystone wall is bordered with rich tumbles of yellow, a bed of wildflowers she does not recognize and yellow chrysanthemums. At the center of the yellow garden is a circular wooden bench from which every part of the garden could be viewed. 

She walks down the path bordered by beds of rare flowers, the sweet scent of blossoms flooding her nostrils. When she reaches the edge of the radiant wildflowers, she half-turns and looks over her shoulder. "How did you pull this off, Your Majesty?"

Cheoljong follows, coming to stand just behind her. "I am the king," he says simply, his lips curling into a smile.

"Your Majesty, this is beautiful! When? How?" So Yong giggles, her eyes reflecting the patch of chrysanthemums surrounding her.

"I had it rebuilt weeks ago," he says proudly. He commits the sight of the queen in a pink dangui, bursting with joy in the middle of the yellow garden, to memory. 

“Yellow flowers?” 

"Isn’t that what you loved about home… the yellow flowers?” he reminds her, his smile is as wide as hers. “Come, sit with me." Cheoljong leads So Yong towards the bench, and signals their retinue to give them privacy.

“Maybe you should start carving wishes on this bench,” Cheoljong suggests as they sit, So Yong on his right. His face breaks into a meaningful smile.

So Yong returns Cheoljong’s smile with one of her own, even as the weight of his words ignites something inside her, remembering the wooden bench back home. She wanted to reach through time and comfort the heartbroken girl who missed her birthday and her mother’s memorial, all because of a king’s cruel whimsy.

But such is fate. It is sometimes fickle and slow to respond, but it never forgets; it always comes back, either to collect, or to compensate.

They sit quietly for a while, wrapped up in their own thoughts, content with silence as they are with chatter.

Cheoljong steals a glance at So Yong, realizing for the first time how it's possible to miss someone, even when they're sitting next to you. “I’m glad you liked it,” he whispers. 

"It's beautiful," Cheoljong hears So Yong say once more. Her eyes are fixed on the open space between the blue sky and the verdant trees at the far end of the garden. He follows So Yong's gaze and sees two small birds wing their way swiftly through the air.

He takes out a scroll from his robe and hands it to So Yong. "I brought you something."

"More gifts?" So Yong arches a brow in question, but Cheoljong simply gestures at the scroll, willing her to read it. She unfurls it and scans the text. 

He watches as her face lights up in recognition. When she’s finished perusing the scroll, she looks at him, her eyes twinkling. "So children are not to be employed until they're old enough? You kept your promise."

Cheoljong nods, remembering his earlier promise involving the little girl, and his vow to make So Yong happy. Not in speech, but in deeds. Behind her, he sees butterflies flitting from flower to flower. 

"What about the little girl.. Damhyang?"

"Yeongpyeong found her mother. I will pardon her so she can take Damhyang and leave Hanyang to find the girl's father. He ran away a few months ago." 

"Oh that is wonderful! Thank you," she gushes, tempted to throw her arms around Cheoljong. Instead, she stares at the scroll one more time. 

For some reason the idea of the little girl reuniting with her family makes her tear up. She holds the scroll close to her chest as the tears threaten to fall. "You're a good king," she chokes, fighting the urge to cry.

"So Yong-ah, what's wrong?" Cheoljong asks, completely baffled by her tears. He wraps his hands around the ends of her shoulders, pulling her against him. "I thought this will make you happy."

"I am happy! But I don't know why I'm crying," she wails, struggling to keep her tears in check.

"I worry so much about you.” Cheoljong says, his hand stroking her arm gently. “You’re not usually so…. but you’re-” 

"If you say, 'cranky' or 'moody' one more time, I'll hurt you with my hairpin."  

"I was going to say, 'volatile,' but 'moody' works too,” he says under his breath, humor playing at the edge of his lips. 

"I don’t know why I’m so…so… so… volatile recently!” She stammers, spitting the word “volatile” like it’s a curse. “It’s like my mind has been turned off," she laments, tucking her head against his shoulder, her tears leaving marks on his crimson robe.

“So Yong-ah, please. You need to see the physician." When So Yong doesn’t respond, he speaks again, imploring her. “I could not bear the thought of anything happening to you.”

She wrinkles her nose, but at his insistence, she acquiesces, her voice muffled by his silken robe. "Maybe later."

They fall into companionable silence once more, the quiet, pierced only by the incessant chirping of birds and the soft whisper of the breeze. 

Remembering the question Cheoljong once asked the queen, he risks breaking the silence by asking, "My Queen, are you happy... here in the palace?" 

So Yong lifts her head briefly to look at him, startled at the question. "Why are you asking me this all of a sudden, Your Majesty?"

Cheoljong does not answer immediately, trying to conjure the right words. At his silence, he feels So Yong lay her head on his shoulder once more.

That afternoon not too long ago, when they sat by the brook close to her father's house, flashes through his mind. Back then he thought he was too late, but now, he realizes that perhaps, time has a way of returning what is lost. 

“My life as a commoner is brief, but I had a difficult time adjusting when I first got here. Since you were always surrounded by friends and family before moving to the palace, I know how lost and lonely you must have felt,” he says quietly, his gaze fixed on the billowing goreum of So Yong’s dangui .

 “I have no time to be lonely. Not anymore." She says in between sniffles. "With everything that’s happening with the ministers, the dowager queens, the thieves and, let’s face it, worrying about you.. I have no time for anything else.”

Cheoljong leans down and kisses the crown of her head. He hears So Yong sigh as she snuggles closer to him, her nearness like a warm blanket in winter. 

He shuts his eyes for a while, a languid sort of peace settling over him. Later, he looks up and realizes that the rays of the afternoon sun have started to fade in the horizon.

Cheoljong does not expect So Yong to speak further on the subject, but he hears her soft voice once more. “How can I be lonely when you just gave me a garden that reminds me of my father’s house…?”

“Your father’s house ?” Not home. But house .

Cheoljong feels her nod against his shoulder.  “The palace is home these days,” she whispers.

“Does that mean you’re happy here?” he asks once more, remembering what she said before. 

I have learned not to look for happiness within the palace walls. It is neither a place for smiles, nor a refuge for tears, it is the seat of power and pleasure. We hope to find enough of both so they fill whatever empty spaces we find within ourselves.

“I think so,” she says quietly.  

The words wash over Cheoljong like rain in spring. He smiles and leans down, his lips hovering just above her ear. He tilts her face up so they are looking each other in the eye. Something in her expression warms him, mending his broken pieces. 

His thumb traces the edge of her bottom lip, savoring the moment before his lips meet hers.

To his absolute horror, So Yong starts gagging, retching, as though she would spill the contents of her stomach at that very instant. 

--

Cheoljong and So Yong reach Daejojeon during the fading light of day.  Much to Cheoljong’s relief, the royal physician is waiting for them when they arrive. 

Later, Cheoljong watches anxiously as the physician examines So Yong. The physician’s fingers touch her wrist gently, then the other, as though he’s double-checking his findings. He listens with a sense of trepidation  as the physician proceeds to ask So Yong a series of questions, ranging from her eating habits to her recent emotional state.

In his periphery, he can see the queen's maid, Lady Choi and the eunuch observing the physician just as nervously. In fact, the only person who does not look the least bit worried is So Yong herself. She looks more annoyed than concerned. 

“Tell me what else you have noticed recently, Your Highness,” the physician asks.

“I have been light-headed,” So Yong tells him, watching the physician’s reaction as she speaks. “I also feel like hurling all the time, but the urge to retch comes and goes.”

The physician nods thoughtfully, as though he’s crossing off items from a checklist inside his head.

“Is her condition serious?” Cheoljong asks. Distress and fear rise within him like a tide, but he forces himself to appear calm.

The physician is quiet for a moment longer, as if his findings are too inconclusive to share at that instant, one of his brows rises in a curious twisty line.  

Until finally, he nods as though he has an answer to a question he asked himself.  His face breaks into a smile and regards Cheoljong fondly.  

“Her Highness is not ill. She is with  child.” 

Chapter Text

“Her Highness is not ill. She is with child.” 

The room erupts in cheers. Even the typically reserved eunuch breaks into a smile. 

"Congratulations, Your Highness." Lady Choi and Hong Yeon squeal in chorus. 

"I'm going to be a father," Cheoljong bleats, testing the sound of the word "father" on his lips. He envelopes So Yong in a tight embrace. 

Queen. Child. Family. He has it all.

Their child. Their creation. His family. Something that would belong solely to him. 

The surge of triumph is so powerful, it crowds his whole heart.

When he draws away, Cheoljong grabs each of So Yong’s hands, thrilled to share the most wonderful moment of his life with her. 

Cheoljong expects the same euphoria from his queen, but the unexpected, but not entirely surprising news, is met with something else. Instead of joy...he sees something else in So Yong’s expression. Panic. And then he sees nothing. Her expression is vacant. Glazed. 

“I’m pregnant,” she says blandly, staring blankly at something behind him. There remains no emotion. No accompanying excitement. No flash of joy.   

And then her eyes widen with something that looked like… terror. 

Cheoljong freezes for a small fragment of time, staring into her face. Color is drained from her cheeks and her lips pinch together as she glares holes through him.

"My queen.. what's wrong?" He asks, completely perplexed by her reaction. News of pregnancy is often met with joy, not… fear.   

So Yong snatches her hands from his, then clenches her fists. "I.. I.. Nothing's wrong. Good. Everything's good." She stammers, but her entire demeanor belies every word she says. 

“This is wonderful news,” he says, whether he's trying to convince her or himself, he isn't sure. But her expression says it is anything but wonderful.  

"I…. I.. don't feel well,” she says in a choked voice, eyes imploring him. "Please leave. Please tell everyone to leave."

Cheoljong looks at So Yong in alarm, then at the royal physician, who immediately flops down on the floor next to So Yong, assessing her once more. 

"She needs to rest, Your Majesty. Fatigue is common during pregnancy," the physician says, then drones on about other symptoms, advising Cheoljong and So Yong not to worry. 

And yet Cheoljong can see that So Yong remains discomfited, so he orders everyone else to leave. When they are left alone, So Yong remains silent, her expression still glazed. 

"What's wrong?" He asks in alarm, but So Yong simply shakes her head. 

"So Yong-ah," he says, imploring her, but he is met with a cold shrug. 

"Would you like to lie down?" 

"Yes, Your Majesty. I am tired. Please...."

"Let me call your maid," Cheoljong says helplessly, completely flummoxed by her demeanor. A familiar worry churns in his chest. So Yong looks worn out and white as a sheet,  almost vulnerable. 

"I want to be left alone," she replies, refusing to meet his gaze.

Not wanting to cause her any more distress, Cheoljong rises to his feet, his earlier joy replaced by despair. 

His heart heavy, he walks away, giving So Yong one last lingering look before stepping out of her chambers.

What just happened? 

—-

In the ensuing silence, So Yong slumps on the cushion, smacking it with frustration. 

Oh the irony of wanting something so much and receiving it at the most inopportune of times. The nobles are on the brink of rebelling against Cheoljong and she just made herself a slow, valuable target to their enemies.

 Fate sure does have a wry sense of humor.

How could this be she thought. The answer comes in the form of memories rippling through her mind. Crimsoning her cheeks. 

The memories wiggle their way out of her mind; the images are so vivid, they’re almost tangible. The feel of Cheoljong’s calloused hands against her waist, along her arms. The delicious weight of his body on hers.

The touch of her hand to Cheoljong’s bare chest. The brush of his fingers down her spine. 

The feel of his lips upon hers. His hard angles against her soft contours. 

"Your Highness," Lady Choi interrupts her thoughts. When she looks up, she sees the older woman’s jubilant expression. Lines fan out from her eyes as she smiles. She imagines that if she had a mother who just found out about her pregnancy, she would react just like that  - warm, tender, proud- like she could not wait to see So Yong as a mother herself.

"Your Highness, is there a problem?” Lady Choi asks kindly, regarding her with almost motherly concern. “We cannot have you so melancholic. It isn't good for the child."

So Yong forces a smile. “I am just exhausted.” 

Lady Choi launches into a long speech about what to expect during her pregnancy, reminding her of all her responsibilities as a queen, yammering about the lessons she must take, and all the dishes she must avoid. So Yong stops to listen the minute Lady Choi starts talking about correct sleeping habits, and wonders about her own mother, and how So Yong’s life came at the cost of her mother’s.

“You are now the most powerful woman in all of Joseon, Your Highness,” she hears Lady Choi blather on. 

Lady Choi means well, but the thought rankles So Yong. Is she no more than her capacity to bear Cheoljong a child? Is childbirth really the only thing that defines her worth? 

Most powerful woman. The thought terrifies her for such power means leverage, and if she isn't careful, her child could easily be used as a bargaining chip in the power struggle between Cheoljong and her clan. It would require a combination of courage and cunning to get through it.

But how? There is a constant fog permeating her brain as though it has turned itself off - she can’t think straight, she can't focus, she’s short-tempered. And worse, her body seems to be in a constant cycle of fatigue and queasiness.

And then: an image of herself nursing a child flashes through her mind. And then one of  Cheoljong bouncing a cooing infant in his arms. The thought of having a child finally thrills her, joy exploding in her heart. 

But before she can rejoice in the images inside her head, another wave of dizziness and nausea sweeps through her. 

__

Later that day, at Hong's residence.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty!" Hong exclaims in greeting, his insolent tone grating on Cheoljong’s nerves. “First, you got your revenge, then the throne…. And now the queen is pregnant. Aren’t you a lucky piece of--"

Hong halts his ribbing mid-sentence when he notices Cheoljong's murderous expression. Hong holds up his hands. "Okay. Okay. There is no need for anger… but I have to say, for an expectant father, you sure are bitchy."

Cheoljong glowers at Hong, then makes a beeline for the table at the corner of the room. Hong follows him, baffled at his sour mood. He pulls the chair on Cheoljong’s left and plops down. “Isn’t it too early for you to be here? The sun has barely set.”

At the mention of the sun, Cheoljong turns his head towards the latticed walls. His expression turns forlorn, his eyes are glazed as though he’s lost in thought. 

“Did you have a fight with Her Highness again?” 

Cheoljong is silent for a moment. He doesn’t know the answer to the question. How could he explain So Yong’s inexplicable terror upon hearing the news?  

“No,” Cheoljong replies curtly. “What makes you think that?”

“You are only this….”  Hong eyes Cheoljong closely. “Bitchy.. You are only this bitchy, when you get into an argument with Her Highness….  What did you do to piss off a pregnant woman, Your Majesty?” 

“Don’t you have an armory to run, and a spy ring to organize?” Cheoljong snaps.

Hong chuckles snidely. “How can I do any of those when you are here… bitching on me?” 

“I didn’t have a fight with the queen,” Cheoljong denies, but the expression on his face proves otherwise. 

Before Hong can hit back, they hear the heavy doors slide open.  Hong turns his head to check who’s intruding on their conversation. He sees Kim Hwan lumber in, his face breaking into a huge smile at the sight of Cheoljong.

“Your Majesty!” he exclaims excitedly. He approaches the table with a cheerful but klutzy gait. “I heard the news! Congratulations, Your Majesty! The Queen must be so happy!”

Cheoljong winces at Kim Hwan’s assumption that So Yong “must be so happy”. From his recollection, she is the farthest thing from happy. But why?  He wonders for the hundredth time that day. She wanted to be a mother. She told him that herself. Then why did she look so…upset?

“She’s… alright,” he says. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Hong’s brow furrow. 

Hong sits forward in his chair, looking very curious. “How is Her Highness?” 

Kim Hwan pulls a chair and flops down next to Hong. “Is something wrong with Her Highness?” 

Cheoljong’s mouth twists in annoyance causing Hong to chuckle once more. “There is nothing wrong with her! I was just surprised by her reaction to the news. That’s all.”

Hong and Kim Hwan exchange glances. “How did she react?” Hong asks, looking completely baffled.

“She seemed…. petrified.” 

Kim Hwan frowns and shakes his head, “That’s impossible. She’s always wanted to become a mother herself.”

Hong lifts his eyebrows in exaggerated shock. “Her Highness… reacting unexpectedly? Shocker.”

Cheoljong glares at Hong but remains quiet. 

“Her Highness has always been quite the maverick… I imagine you would be used to her…” Hong pauses, as though he’s choosing his words carefully. “...unorthodox ways. Instead of obsessing about the “why,” perhaps you should focus on making her feel better. ” 

“How do I do that?” Cheoljong asks, but even as he says the words he realizes how foolish it is to ask Hong and Kim Hwan, or anyone else, for if there is one person who truly knows So Yong, it would be him. 

—

Later that night Cheoljong lay in bed, tossing and turning, his thoughts vacillating between his joy of being a father and So Yong’s stormy brown eyes.

The questions keep coming, along with all the possible answers for her terror. At the same time, he’s been searching his brain, trying to come up with a plan to make her feel better, as Hong suggested. 

Unable to shake off the image of a terrified So Yong, he turns to his side, facing the wall. Still coming up empty, he smacks the beddings in frustration. Surely, there must be something he can do. 

Suddenly, he feels the fine hairs at the back of his neck stand on end, as though someone is watching him. With his back to the doors, Cheoljong listens carefully and hears the sound of muffled footfalls. He lies still for a second trying to control his breathing, pretending to be asleep but his whole body tenses with anticipation. 

When he senses the intruder’s footsteps drawing closer, he bolts upright from the beddings and hears a surprised yelp. Instead of an intruder, he sees the familiar silhouette of a woman.

“Your Majesty?” she yelps, almost at the same time as he screeches, “So Yong-ah?” 

“Why would you surprise me like that?” 

“I came to see you but the lights are out…. I didn’t want to wake you up,” she replies lamely. 

Relieved, Cheoljong lowers himself back on the beddings. He peers at So Yong in the dark, wondering what had gotten into her. Instead of asking, he moves over a little, making a place for her next to him. He tugs at the covers in invitation. “Do you want to sleep here?” he whispers in the dark.

For a moment, he thought So Yong would walk away. Instead, she moves closer and  lowers herself slowly onto the edge of the bedding. Moments later, she takes a deep breath and crawls beneath the covers, but she turns and faces away from him. 

But doesn’t matter which way she faces, Cheoljong is simply relieved to see her. He lies back down and stares up the ceiling soaking in the quiet. “So Yong-ah…” he starts, but she remains still. 

Without another thought he moves closer to So Yong, and wraps an arm over her. When she doesn’t resist, Cheoljong pulls her flush against his chest, nuzzling the back of her head, before resting his cheek over her ear. 

“What is it? What are you not telling me?” he murmurs.

So Yong doesn't reply, but he feels her head burrowing deeper into the crook between his neck and shoulders.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me,” he says softly, hoping she would just tell her what it is that bothers her, but So Yong is unyielding in her silence. 

Emboldened, Cheoljong cups a hand over her belly affectionately. A sudden picture of So Yong carrying his child, with her glowing smile flashes through his mind. He is besieged by the unexpected surge of longing and affection.

“You will make a wonderful mother,” he whispers as his hand gently strokes her belly. 

He truly believes that So Yong would. She is clever, good to her core, sweet, affectionate and tender-hearted… except for a few moments when she looks completely deranged, perhaps unhinged by her thirst for vengeance. He'll help temper that side of her, but otherwise, she’d make a perfect mother. 

To his surprise, So Yong turns around and faces him. 

“What are you thinking?” he asks hoarsely.

“You’ll make a good father too,” she whispers then. 

Cheoljong goes from tormented to elated in a single instant, his heart threatening to burst at her words. Later, he plants a soft kiss on her forehead and sighs. He loves the feel of her next to him. It is how it should have been between them from the beginning. 

It takes Cheoljong a while to sleep, waiting for So Yong to drift off first. He marvels at the feeling of having her so close, of having the most important things in life in his arms. 

But like So Yong, he suddenly realizes the cold possibility that like all beautiful things, they don’t last. He pulls her closer, hoping and praying, that somehow his embrace is good enough to ward off anything that would take them away from him… or him, away from them. 

In the morning when Cheoljong wakes up, he instinctively reaches for So Yong, expecting her to be next to him when he opens his eyes. Instead, there is nothing but cold empty space. 

The queen is gone. And so is his pillow. 

—

Elsewhere, later that day…

“We have a common enemy,” says Byeong In as he pours the bitter liquid into the cups of Jo Man Hong and Jo Deok Moon, who are both seated across from him, in a small room in Oktajeong. 

The two Jo ministers exchange wary glances before Jo Man Hong speaks up. “Are you talking about His Majesty?”

“We must continue to work together… or he will take all of us out,” Byeong In replies, lifting one full cup and handing it to Jo Man Hong. He can sense their reluctance after So Yong’s recent ill-conceived stint at Oktajeong. 

Jo Man Hong takes the cup and eyes him suspiciously. “What do you propose we do?”

“I have a plan… but I have a condition.”

Jo Deok Moon takes the other cup and drains the alcoholic beverage then sets the cup back down on the table. “What’s the condition?”

“Lay off the queen.”

“The queen poisoned us!” Jo Deok Moon snaps. His features darken in indignation, but only for an instant.

Byeong In glares at the man from the Jo clan, surprised by the vehemence he feels.. At his helplessness to help So Yong. If she has done the unthinkable act of poisoning the ministers then she must have been pushed beyond endurance. The So Yong he knows would never do anything like that.  “No she did not. She is incapable, “ he insists. 

Jo Deok Moon gestures with his hands in an attempt to convey a peaceful assertion. “You weren’t at Oktajeong that night when she threatened all of us, Byeong In. Maybe you need to consider the idea that Her Highness is in league with His Majesty to bring down our clans.”

“I know the queen more than anyone else. I can assure you, she cannot pull off something so diabolic. Someone else is pulling the strings,” he declares flatly. The impassivity of his tone sounds more terrifying than his ire. Annoyed, he cannot resist adding, “Besides, if you were, in fact, poisoned, you should consider it a payback.”

“Payback for what?” Jo Man Hong interjects, looking completely confused.

“For sending someone to Kim Mun Geun’s home and leaving the queen scarred,” he retorts. 

Jo Man Hong’s eyes narrow, then shakes his head in denial.  “I do not know what you heard, Byeong In, but I can assure our clan has nothing to do with those raids.”

“If you say so.”

“I know so. Think about it. Our clan has nothing to gain from it. Why don’t you ask your clan about those ledgers?

“Ledgers?”

“Yes, the ledgers. The queen had it with her at Oktajeong. She threatened to expose your entire clan with it.” 

Byeong In’s hackles rise. Could it have been the king that night? He has long suspected the king to be behind those raids, but he cannot ascertain his motives. He targeted warehouses and stole a few valuable items but Byeong In was never convinced the king was simply after gold and silk… was he after those ledgers? If he was, did So Yong hand those records to the king willingly? Or was she acting in duress?

The trail of evidence left at Kim Mun Geun’s house left a lot of unanswered questions. Those responsible for the raids have always been too careful. And yet one day they make a sloppy job of leaving something behind. Evidence that led him straight to the Jo clan. 

Something is wrong with the picture, and the more he thinks about it, the shadier it becomes. 

More importantly, if the king was after those ledgers, then was he the intruder at Kim Mun Geun’s that night…? Was it he who almost cut off So Yong’s throat?

It would certainly explain why the queen is so cagey about the incident. She didn’t so much as flinch as he’d expected her to when Byeong In shared his suspicions. It was as if So Yong knew about it. And if So Yong knows that the king is the intruder, was she complicit, or was she coerced?

If she was coerced, how dire her situation must be, for her to choose betraying her own clan. He clenches his fist and vows to free So Yong from the king's chokehold on her.

With superior effort, he tempers his fury and pulls himself back into the conversation. He speaks calmly once more. “There is only one solution to our problem.”

The two other men in the room look at him expectantly. 

“We need a new king.”

__

Meanwhile in the garden...

“You owe me a pillow.” 

So Yong breaks into a smile at the familiar voice. She turns to face Cheoljong who is climbing up the step towards the center of the garden where she sits. 

“Mind if I join you?” 

"Can I stop you?" Her tone is just the slightest bit snide. She knows she shouldn’t be so snarky, but the words just come pouring out of her. 

Nonetheless, So Yong scoots immediately to the end of the wooden bench, making space for Cheoljong.

So Yong wonders whether she is always so snippy, or is it another effect of her pregnancy. She steals a glance at Cheoljong, but he does not seem to take offense. On the contrary, his mouth twists to one side, as though he finds her snark amusing. 

“Are you feeling better?” he asks as he sits, far closer than necessary. 

So Yong could feel the warmth radiating from him, a welcome sensation in the chilly afternoon. His now-familiar delicious clean scent fills her nostrils, and she suppresses the urge to move closer and actually sniff him. This pregnancy thing is really messing her up. 

"It's rather annoying that you're free to go about, gallivanting, while I have an entire entourage crowing over me and crowding me…" So Yong gestures with her head, drawing Cheoljong’s attention towards her retinue. "... And watching my every move."

"Also, did you just double my guards? I carry a child.. and suddenly your guards come out of the woodwork! It's a little too much, don't you think?" The inexplicable desire to spout more vitriol overwhelms So Yong. Her rational mind knows it isn't fair to take all of it out on Cheoljong, but to whom will she take it out on? 

"You need additional security," he replies calmly, placating her.

“Really, Your Majesty, what could happen to me? Lady Choi is right there… That woman has the eyes of a hawk. She can do better than your guards," she grumbles, annoyed at the sheer number of people following her everywhere.

"My queen… Please trust me on this. It’s temporary,” he says mildly, patiently, looking the least bit perturbed by her foul mood. 

When she doesn’t reply, he steers the conversation to something else. “I get the sense that you're avoiding me." He declares. “I have been looking for you all day… but I cannot seem to find you.” There is a slight smile on his face, but So Yong does not miss the hint of sadness in his tone, like he's wounded. 

"Then I guess your own guards protect me from you…Your Majesty.” So Yong regrets the venom in her tone the moment the words are out. 

Feeling guilty, she speaks once more. “Why would I be avoiding you?" she says, trying to sound light and breezy, but her mind must have truly gone haywire because the words come out sounding petulant.

Cheoljong must have understood her frustration because he suddenly leans back and  turns his head toward her. "Do you want to ditch them…?" 

That gets So Yong's full attention. "Ditch my entourage, Your Majesty? How?"

He leans towards So Yong and crowds her space. He gives her that mischievous, sinful smile. “Come with me.”

"That would piss off Lady Choi," she says, but the idea of ditching her entire retinue intrigues her more than she cares to admit.

“Wouldn’t that be fun?” he replies, grabbing her hand. 

—

“What is this place?” So Yong asks later as they make their way through a path lined with trees. In the distance, she can see the tiled roof of a house that is mostly obstructed by trees and shrubs.

“It's the summer house.” Cheoljong replies proudly. "Don't you like it?"

It seems rather odd to be frolicking in a summer house in the middle of autumn , are the snippy words that  spring to the tip of So Yong's tongue, but she bites them back. Mostly because she knows Cheoljong is doing the best he can to cheer her up.  

"It looks… rustic," she replies lamely, her eyes sweeping the secluded villa. Maybe in another time, she would have appreciated the trees that have begun shedding leaves, or the path covered in brown, orange and red leaves crunching under her feet. 

"Come on," Cheoljong urges her, his hand curling around her arm to gently tug her forward. 

She isn't particularly excited but she can see Cheoljong's thrilled expression, so she lets him pull her towards the house. 

So Yong sighs as they make their way up the trail. A slight breeze stirs the fallen leaves along the path, as sunlight shines through the trees. There is a speckle of clouds scattered across the blue sky. If she’s being honest the place looks beautiful, but somehow she doesn’t want to give Cheoljong the satisfaction of knowing he’s right.

“My queen….I cannot stop thinking about your reaction earlier . I don’t understand why the news terrifies you,” Cheoljong says as they climb the stairs towards the house. “Most women in the palace would be elated at the news of pregnancy… but it upset you. I kept thinking about it, trying to understand.”

“Did you figure it out?” 

Cheoljong shakes his head. “No. No matter how I tried, I could not come up with a rational explanation. I do not understand why being pregnant makes you so sad. I thought it was what you wanted… like you told me before. You wanted to be a mother.”

So Yong steals a glance at Cheoljong, stunned at the amount of anguish she apparently caused him.  He turns slightly to look at her, as though he’s gauging her reaction, but she says nothing, willing him to continue.

“But then I realized that you’ve always been different… the exception to the rule. You bristle at the idea of being just like everyone else…” Cheolong pauses to take a breath before speaking again, looking at So Yong sidelong. “So instead of obsessing about your reasons for being upset, I decided to just accept that it is simply who you are. Different. Defiant. And find a way to make you feel better.”

“Is that why you took me here?”

“I thought you might appreciate some fresh air…some semblance of freedom. I just wish I had brought you here sooner.. far from the madding crowd.” 

“You're a perceptive king.” 

“And you're a perplexing queen.”

So Yong takes in a centering breath before speaking, floored by Cheoljong's words. 

"I'm not upset. I feel . . . unmoored. Like I'm drifting through a situation I don't know how to handle. We're on the brink of war… our enemies are closing in. I just burned all my bridges with my clan, and I just made myself an even bigger target…."

“A target?” Cheoljong repeats, turning to face her. 

“Yes, a target. A slow one. I’m not as sharp, and I cannot run as fast as I used to. Your Majesty, are you not afraid?”

“Everyone has fears,” he replies vaguely.

“What are you afraid of?”

Carefully, he lifts his hands then palms her shoulders as he stares into her eyes. “We all have something to fear - drowning, snakes, darkness. Then there's you. And our child. Losing both of you. And that's a fear, I'll never get past…. But it is when we are most afraid that we must be most enduring. For our family. For our child.”

So Yong has no words, that for a moment as simply she stares back at him, his gaze soft but unwavering.

“I will do anything in my power to keep both of you safe…. I'll cut off the rotten parts of Joseon so our child grows up in a better world. A safer world,” he declares without a shred of doubt.

“And that is what scares me…. it’s the kind of thinking that gets people killed.” So Yong’s rational mind knows that their situation is no more precarious than before, but something in her gut continues to nag at her, like a pulsating unease that refuses to quiet. 

Her dark thoughts must have made their way to her face, because Cheoljong leans over to kiss her forehead as if to assure her.  He takes her hand and rubs his thumb over her knuckles. The sensation grounds So Yong and calms her disquiet somewhat. “Whatever your fears, we will face it together.”

For a moment they are both quiet, basking in the silence… in the comfort of each other’s company.

“What if our child grows up to be like me?” she blurts out, genuinely curious.

There is a look of surprise on his face, as though he’s completely baffled by So Yong’s question. “And that's a bad thing because….?”

"Your Majesty, you forget, I come from a clan of vicious individuals." 

" That is what worries you?" he asks incredulously, his brown eyes churning with humor.

"You almost had me killed for it." She says plaintively…then regrets it instantaneously.

For a small fragment of time, a shadow displaces the humor in Cheoljong’s eyes, but it is gone as soon as it comes. 

"I'm sorry… I didn't mean it that way." So Yong amends hastily. "I meant that… Look at me. I had no qualms about poisoning my kin as you put it. I would turn my back so easily from my own clan. I…. I issue threats like I give away treats. I am as vindictive as they come."

"You're also naturally kind, extremely intelligent, loyal to your beliefs, selfless, sometimes to a fault…." His expression turns amused, then he leans forward once more. He whispers in her ear, his voice dropping to a flirty, husky drawl.  "And incredibly beautiful."

So Yong does not even realize that her face breaks into a wide smile until she becomes aware of Cheoljong watching her closely, his eyes sparkling with laughter. 

 And then he draws back, all traces of humor gone. He lifts his hand and cradles So Yong's cheek. "So Yong-ah… In spite of what you said, you're still the best part of you and me." 

Warmth floods So Yong’s heart. She turns her head towards the trees, resisting the urge to preen. A dead leaf floats in the air, buoyed by a soft breeze, and lands on her head. It gets stuck in one of the pins on her hair. She reaches out, plucks it out and flicks it away. 

Her features soften into a dreamy smile and Cheoljong feels the familiar stirring in his heart. It is how he wants So Yong to look every day. Joyful. Radiant. Extremely beguiling, that her mere presence makes his heart ache.

He hesitates for a fraction of a moment, then his hand reaches out and circles around her waist, drawing her closer before she could react.

“So Yong-ah,” he says, his voice dropping to a rich husky drawl, “Do you want to see the inside of the house?"

"What’s inside?" So Yong asks gamely.  Cheoljong’s heated insinuations make her body tingle. She wonders briefly whether it is her pregnancy that is making her hyper-aware, or she’s truly grown attuned to Cheoljong’s advances. 

With his other hand, he brushes against the side of her hair, as though a renegade tendril has escaped from her chignon. He smiles at her seductively, and it vexes So Yong that Cheoljong knows the exact effect he has on her.

"I know what you're doing, Your Majesty," So Yong admonishes him, but without conscious thought, she reaches up to touch the same spot on the side of her head.

He leans forward and whispers in her ear, his breath hot against her neck. It sends tingling shivers across her skin. “Well... I’m not being subtle.”

She rolls her eyes but it does not have the effect she intends, for while she aims for a gentle rebuke, the accompanying blush makes the gesture coy… beckoning even.

A hand curls around her waist, urging her forward. “We have the place to ourselves. Can you think of something we should be doing?” he asks, his question dripping with heated interest. 

“I cannot think of any,” she teases him, thrilled by the notion of herself and Cheoljong, alone, without the prying eyes of anyone. She halts her steps for a moment and turns to face him. “Can you?”  She sighs and turns soft, melting into his chest as she leans toward him. When did I become so emotionally needy , she wonders. 

“Let me give you a clue,” Cheoljong whispers, wrapping her in a loose embrace.  He kisses her forehead gently, followed by each eyelid. He lowers his head and kisses each cheekbone, then nibbles a path to her ear. His touch sends the familiar prickles of heat up and down her spine. “So Yong-ah,” he breathes.

One hand leaves her hips, rising to cup her neck, tilting her head so they were looking each other in the eye. His thumb traces the outline of her bottom lip, eliciting a sound that’s half whimper, half moan. 

Finally, he kisses her, soft and teasing, lingering over her lips, as though he's savoring being so close to her again. 

Slowly his kisses turn hungry, unrelenting, and filled with a promise of their life together as a family. As though he's telling her where they both belong, and it is there, with each other, and with their child. 

His mouth moves downward, pressing kisses along her jaw until his lips reach the spot between her neck and collarbone, sucking the skin along the edge. So Yong is reminded of the sensation of searing and shivering in equal measure, her ragged breaths matching his every shudder.

“You want to see the inside of the house now?” he murmurs against her ear.  

“Yes” she replies but her words come out as more of a whimper than anything else.

 He smirks knowingly.

—

Much later that day... somewhere within the palace walls.

Byeong In is watching his soldiers train under the afternoon sun when Kim Hwan sidles up to him. In fact, he smells Kim Hwan before he even sees him. His cousin’s overpowering scent of flowers and meadows causes him to scrunch up his nose in revulsion.

“Cousin!” Kim Hwan says in greeting as he stands next to him facing the soldiers. “You’re training new soldiers?”

“Did you bathe yourself in… whatever that is?” he asks in distaste, rubbing his nose with his index finger for good measure.

“It’s for the ladies,” Kim Hwan replies proudly. 

“Are you trying to push them away?” he says, unable to resist the jibe. The corners of his lip curl in a good-natured smirk. 

Kim Hwan raises his shoulder to make a show of smelling his perfumed arm. “Ahh.. Smells so good. This scent makes me irresistible to women.”

Byeong In rolls his eyes. “These women who find that scent irresistible… Are they sick?”

“Did you hear the good news about the queen?” Kim Hwan asks happily instead. He’s been hearing it from everyone the whole day. 

Byeong In’s expression changes to scorn—then anger. 

“Maybe it is time for our family to get along with the king,” he suggests, curious to see Byeong In’s reaction. In Kim Hwan’s mind, the queen carrying the king’s child is the best reason to bury the hatchet and move forward. 

Byeong In turns his head and glares at Kim Hwan, but he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. The contempt on his face says it all. 

Undeterred, Kim Hwan presses on. “He is special to the queen, and he doesn’t look like a bad person. Besides, now that she’s carrying his child, I think we should lay it off.”

“The king’s feelings for the queen are not real. He will always use her for his own gain.” 

“And I don’t see the king that way. He seems to truly care for her. And now that she is pregnant, we have to be more accepting than ever…”

“Now that she is pregnant,  we have to be more vigilant than ever,” He corrects Kim Hwan disdainfully. “He tricked the queen into betraying her own family. What makes you think he will not use that child against us. He is more dangerous than ever.”

“What should we do then?” 

Byeong In’s eyes are fixed on the soldiers-in-training, but there is a sinister gleam in them. It sends a spasm of chills down Kim Hwan’s spine.

Unsure what to say, but suddenly afraid for So Yong, Kim Hwan racks his brain for inspiration… for any words he could offer to dissuade Byeon In from doing anything rash. 

It saddens Kim Hwan to see his two cousins, his favorite childhood friends, to be caught in a political intrigue that is bigger than themselves. And it breaks Kim Hwan to be forced to choose between the two: Byeong In and loyalty on one corner, and So Yong and transformation on the other. 

Before he can say more, a soldier comes running towards Byeong In. They share a brief look, then the soldier cants his head as though he’s beckoning Byeong In to come over for a covert chat. 

Byeong In leaves Kim Hwan wordlessly and strides towards one of his most loyal men. Intrigued, he watches them as they walk away from the training grounds. When he is sure that he is no longer within view, Kim Hwan follows them surreptitiously. 

One of the perks of being dismissed as the village idiot is that Kim Hwan comes and goes without anyone questioning his presence. Grateful for the first time of his rather unflattering reputation, he whistles as he walks by, pretending to be lost in thought as he wends his way through the yard, all the while keeping an eye on Byeong In and his soldier.  

In his periphery, he sees Byeong In enter his office, so he follows as inconspicuously as possible. Another soldier notices his presence and eyes him suspiciously. He gives him a wide innocent smile. Much to his relief, the soldier walks past him, looking mildly amused by his presence. 

When he reaches the door, he leans forward to listen, careful not to draw attention to himself. The voices are low and muffled but he can glean enough information. He hears Byeong In’s familiar voice speaking. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes, His Majesty and Her Highness left earlier… they dodged the guards, so wherever they are, they don’t have a lot of protection.”

“Do you know where they went?”

The soldier’s response must have been nothing more than a gesture because Kim Hwan does not hear his reply. 

“What do you want us to do?” He hears the soldier speak eventually.

There is a beat of silence, so Kim Hwan inches closer, sticking his ears to the wall. 

“Don’t hurt her.” Comes Byeong In’s voice once more. 

“And His Majesty?” 

Byeong In’s reply turns Kim Hwan’s blood to ice. “Kill him.”

Chapter Text

"Kill him," comes Byeong In's quiet command. Absent reason. Absent compunction.

It takes all of Kim Hwan to remain quiet. To draw into himself. To not confront his childhood friend. 

Fear and resentment curling through him, he spins on his wheel and heads back out the way he entered, the speed of his strides steadily increasing until he finds himself in the training grounds once more. He attempts to slip away in quiet purposeful strides, careful not to draw attention to himself.

He lets his fear dictate the direction of his steps, while all his energy is spent on maintaining a mask of awkwardness and foolery. 

He walks past the training grounds, afraid the soldiers would see right through him. That they’d see the treasonous secret he stumbled upon. But the soldiers pay him no mind, no more than the mild disinterest they have always showered upon him. 

Treason. Murder.  

The words play in his mind on repeat, truly fearful for the first time in his life. When he makes it through the flat-arched entryway, he looks over his shoulder, almost expecting Byeong In to chase after him, but there is no sign of his cousin…or any other soldier trailing him. 

After expelling a relieved sigh, he squares his shoulders and bolts for the alleyways without looking back. When his limbs grow heavy, Kim Hwan presses on. At one point, he slows his pace, but he doesn't stop running, his footfalls matching the rapid pounding of his heart.

"Director Hong! Director Hong!" He cries out as Hong's residence comes into view. 

He has no idea whether his friend is around, but he's desperate. He's afraid. For So Yong. For the King. For their unborn child. And mostly, he is afraid he would fail So Yong. 

To his relief, Hong slides the doors open, looking both furious and flummoxed by his agitated intrusion. He pushes past Hong and finds Yeongpyeong seated in the low table at the center of the room. The prince deigns him a weary glance as he hears Hong slide the doors shut. 

"His– Majesty– His– Majesty!" He bursts out between heaving breaths as he stops in the middle of the room, his lungs burning. His legs, so unused to long sprints, give way and he doubles over. 

Kim Hwan manages to get out a few broken phrases even as he struggles to catch his breath. "His Majesty." He takes in air. "Byeong In." Another ragged breath. "Heard something."

Alarmed, Yeongpyeong immediately leaps to his feet and steps closer to Kim Hwan. "What is it? What did you hear?" 

"Where is His Majesty? Where is her Highness?" Kim Hwan asks harriedly. "Where are they?" He repeats, still struggling to catch his breath, his legs trembling from overexertion.

Hong eyes him, taking in his frantic state. "Kim Hwan, why are you looking for His Majesty?"

"I heard Byeong In. I…I…" he grinds out. “I think he just sent someone to…” he pauses, wondering for the first time if he heard the conversation correctly.

“He sent someone to what?” Yeongpyeong presses him, bending forward so he’s eye level with him. 

“I think he sent someone to kill His Majesty,” Kim Hwan bursts out, rushing the words, as though articulating his thoughts in a single breath would make them less true. 

“Come, sit.” Hong takes him by the arm, ushering him towards the low table. “Tell us what you heard,” he says calmly but there is a look of trepidation on his face. 

Kim Hwan sits down, as Yeongpyeong takes the seat across from him, while Hong sinks down on his left. They both look at him, sharing a look of agitation. 

Kim Hwan recounts his conversation with Byeong In, from their conversation in the training grounds, to eavesdropping on his private conversation with the soldier. “That’s all I heard, but I don’t think they know where His Majesty went. Only that they managed to ditch the guards–” 

“Then we must find His Majesty before they do.” Yeongpyeong is on his feet, grabbing his sheathed sword before Kim Hwan can finish his story. 

“Find? Do you not know where they are?” Kim Hwan asks disbelievingly, bile rising in his throat. “Aren’t you the Commander of the Royal Guard? How can you not know?” 

“They dodged the guards earlier today…” Hong supplies, and as though he remembers their recent conversation with Cheoljong, he adds, “But they could not have gone far. He was worried about Her Highness so he might have taken her somewhere quiet.”

Yeongpyeog and Hong exchange tense glances. 

“I will go look for them at the hideaway. You go ask her maids,” Yeongpyeong barks, but he’s already halfway through the door, leaving Hong and Yeongpyeong no time to question his orders. 

_

Meanwhile, at the summer house.

So Yong watches quietly as Cheoljong pushes one of the windows open, allowing a burst of  afternoon light to stream through the room. It opens to a picturesque view of autumn. The window perfectly frames a tree, set against a backdrop of glorious blue skies and a deciduous forest. 

Unable to resist, she saunters towards the open window and stands next to Cheoljong, gazing out the window, at the row of trees lining the pathway.

Minutes tick by in companionable silence, and it dawns on So Yong that at that moment, it truly is just the two of them - no servants, no guards, no ministers. The thought inexplicably thrills her more than she would care to admit. 

For a while, So Yong lets the tranquility of the summer house wash over her, basking in the rare solitude it offers. But Cheoljong has a way of pushing everything else to the periphery. So when he draws in a long, contented sigh, So Yong’s attention is back on him once more.

It vexes her that she’s acutely aware of every little movement Cheoljong makes, from his quiet footsteps when he enters a room, to the unconscious gestures he makes when he speaks.

His hands fascinate her. She remembers the heat on her back when he pulls her in for an embrace. The gentle feel of them against her neck when he kisses her. 

An unbidden image of Cheoljong’s torso flashes through her mind. She finds herself wondering whether the well-defined ridges of his abdomen look better in daylight. She feels the strangest urge to scrape her nails over each ridge and watch his reaction. The thought makes her mouth go dry, and without conscious thought, her tongue flicks out to moisten her lips.   

She steals a glance at Cheoljong, who picks that exact moment to look at her. A mischievous smirk spreads slowly across his face, as though he can see the lurid quality of her thoughts. 

“What are you thinking, My Queen?” His voice is deep, and rich, and teasing; it sets off a fluttering low in her belly.

“It’s nothing,” she replies quickly. Too quickly that Cheoljong's eyes, almost amber in the afternoon light, dance in heated amusement. 

Inexplicably piqued, So Yong wills herself to focus her attention on the stunning view outside. She stares blindly out the window, feeling the heat creep up her cheeks. So Yong chastises herself for allowing her thoughts to venture wantonly into that direction. To venture into that wanton direction. 

When Cheoljong sidles up behind her, and wraps his arms around her waist, So Yong sighs in pleasure. 

“I’m curious to know what's going on in that devious little brain of yours," he says, his voice dropping an octave.

“You don’t want to know,” So Yong replies coyly, feeling the heat of his body radiating off him. “How often do you come here, Your Majesty?” 

He lets out a little laugh, as though he recognizes So Yong’s attempt at steering the topic of conversation away from her.  “Not often. But I never brought anyone else here, if that’s what you’re asking.” He dips his head and kisses the side of her neck, expertly pushing the neckline of her dangui out of the way. 

“Do you say that to all the girls?” she breathes, trying to maintain a modicum of control even as his kisses send hot tingles all the way down her toes.

Cheoljong makes no attempt to back up. If anything he inches even closer, keeping her locked in his arms. “Just you,” he says gruffly, trailing kisses from one side of her neck to the other. 

When Cheoljong grips her waist and pulls her flush against him, So Yong feels his hardened length pressing into her rear. She gasps, then sags into Cheoljong’s chest, letting her head loll back against his shoulders, while he continues to trail open mouth kisses from her neck up her jaw, to the underside of her ear.

“Do you have other questions?” Cheoljong murmurs into her skin, pulling out the pins from her hair. He guides her head back, exposing her throat, and nibbles at the skin there. 

So Yong goes willingly when Cheoljong grips her waist, and spins her so she’s facing him. Without thought, So Yong wraps her arms around his neck and steps up on tiptoe to kiss him. 

To her delight, Cheoljong responds immediately, slanting his head at an angle that allows him to kiss her better, licking her lips and coaxing her mouth to open. He squeezes her tightly against his body as his tongue dips inside her mouth, eliciting riotous sensations.

His thumb nudges her chin, and forces her head back. It makes him kiss her harder. Hotter. Hungrier. Until moist heat pools at the juncture of thighs.

As his tongue slides against hers, So Yong trails her hands across his shoulders, then revels in his broad chest, in the firmness of his body beneath his silken clothes. When he grinds his hips against her, a bolt of lust shoots through her body.

He pulls back slightly, his mouth ghosting hers. So Yong leans forward, chasing his lips, but he keeps himself just out of reach, pulling his head back, teasing her, tormenting her, forcing her to go for what she wants. 

When she feels him smirk against her lips, she lets out a tiny sound of annoyance. It vexes So Yong that he’s amused by her impatience. 

She attempts to pull away and chide him for such impertinence, but Cheoljong catches her lower lip between his teeth. He gives it a gentle bite that she feels down her belly, and her protests all but disappear in a cloud of tingling sensations.

They kiss for an obscene amount of time before she draws back far enough to see his face, but still tucked securely against his body. “I want to see you,” she murmurs brazenly, pulling at the strings on Cheoljong’s clothes, just as her own are at an utter disarray. 

She lowers herself to sit at the window sill, her eyes at level with his abdomen. She looks up as Cheoljong continues her earlier work on the strings of his clothes, his heavy-lidded eyes never leaving hers. 

She watches in abject fascination as Cheoljong shrugs off his clothes until only his trousers are left, and his glorious torso is bared to her. 

Reaching up, she lets her hands explore the sculpted ridges of his abdomen, to the hard planes of his chest. She clasps his biceps and squeezes, marveling at the pulsing veins running beneath his skin. Unable to resist, she drops a kiss into the skin right below his ribcage, working her way upward, marveling at the warm, silky feel of his skin. She dawdles at a particularly large scar right below his chest and sucks on the skin.

As she dallies there, goosebumps break out over his skin. Vaguely, So Yong can hear Cheoljong make an inarticulate noise deep in his throat. Emboldened, her lips descend once more, trailing kisses down the length of his torso to the solid ripples of his abdomen.

Slowly lifting her head, she meets his eyes –dark and ablaze– watching her watch him.

Cheoljong hauls her up for another kiss, in that signature way of his, soft then searing, dallying then demanding.

“You are overdressed, My Queen,” Cheoljong rasps against her mouth, making light work of her clothes and freeing her from her garments in record time. 

Before the last of her clothes fall away, So Yong wraps her hands around his neck, pushes up on her toes, and presses her lips to his. Cheoljong catches her lower lip between his teeth and gives it a slight tug. The warm tingling sensation reverberates down to the juncture of her legs.

Out of breath, he draws back. “Beautiful,” he whispers. His eyes burn on her breasts and belly, before he dips his head to rain kisses from her throat down her chest, to the valley between her breasts. 

So Yong arches her back, exposing her chest further, gasping and whimpering. She lifts her hands up to his shoulders, clawing into him, silently urging him to continue his ministrations downwards. 

Instead his mouth finds hers once more, his hands roaming her body. When So Yong cries out, the sound is swallowed up in his mouth. His hands mold her breasts, and his fingers unerringly find the aching peaks, pinching and rolling until they pebble. A heady combination of pleasure and pain lances through her. 

“Please…” she moans. 

Understanding her pleas, Cheoljong takes in one taut peak with his mouth, licking and sucking until she shudders with arousal. 

A maddening rush of heat shoots through So Yong when Cheoljong drops to his knees, and his hands rest on her hips. To her utter shock, he presses a soft kiss to the slight swell of her belly. 

“Our child,” he says hoarsely, splaying his hand over the swell reverently. 

It is an exquisitely tender moment, an image she will guard with her heart forever. 

Slowly he rises to his feet, sliding his hands up her body. “You gave me everything,” he whispers before kissing her once more. Exquisitely gentle, and yet fiercely possessive. 

He bends his knees, crouching ever so slightly so that their faces are aligned, then wraps his arms around her waist and lifts her off the ground. Instinctively, she hops up slightly and wraps her legs around his hips. 

His hands dig into her thighs, holding her firmly in place, and aligning her body so that the softest part of her aligns with the hardest part of him. 

Cheoljong moves until her back hits the cold wall next to the window. She could feel him straining against his trousers. When he rocks his hips, a bolt of desire shoots through her body. She moans at the friction, overcome by the desperate, almost primal need building inside her.

"Your Majesty," she rasps, gripping his shoulders. But the sound is swallowed by his mouth against hers, his tongue tangling with hers. She's squirmy, and frantic, and desperate for friction between her legs.

A gust of wind blows through the open window, the air caressing her exposed skin. It reminds her of the possibility of an unsuspecting passer-by seeing her and Cheoljong in such compromising positions. And yet she had the mad impulse to give in to that overwhelming throb, right then, right there.

"Window," she manages, mumbling against Cheoljong's lips.

Understanding dawns on him, and he lifts her easily, away from the window. With his arms firmly around her, and her legs still locked around his waist, he walks towards another room. 

So Yong loses all her bearings, aware only of his mouth on hers, her body wrapped around his, and his hardness pressing against her stomach.     

Gradually, Cheoljong lowers her onto the makeshift beddings. 

Aroused by the sensation of being naked against his half-clothed body, So Yong parts her thighs, allowing Cheoljong to settle between them. And right where she needs him, she could feel him hard. Hot. 

Her hands reach for his clothes eager to feel him right against her core. He pulls back quickly to shove his trousers down his hips. 

He thrusts slowly, Cheoljong’s body filling hers. And right where there was soreness the first time, there is now only sweet pleasure and exquisite pressure. 

She writhes against him, desperate for him to increase the tempo, but Cheoljong maintains his pace, easing deeper in miniscule degrees, resisting her efforts to hurry him, as though he’s savoring every thrust, every whimper, every plea. 

So Yong cries out, her body fraught with need, her nerves pulsating with sensation. In that moment, nothing mattered but how he fills her, stretching her, going deeper and harder, the sensation building between them.

“So Yong-ah….” She hears Cheoljong’s grunt near her ear. Soothing. Comforting. Urging. Promising her things she cannot comprehend at that instant. He curls a hand under her knee, urging her to wrap her leg around his waist, and then positions So Yong for a more pleasurable angle. He increases the pressure, thrusting into her faster, harder.

Her senses are focused solely in that area where their bodies are joined, the pleasure building, spiraling out of control, spreading outward to the tips of her fingers and toes. 

“That’s it, My Queen,” he rasps, setting all her nerve endings aflame.

And then she feels it. Her body clenching around him, shudders consuming her. She clings to Cheoljong until she completely comes apart. 

He follows her seconds later, driving into her one final time. His body convulses, growling his release into her neck. 

So Yong expects Cheoljong to lower himself atop her, as he used to, but instead, he rolls to his back and takes her with him. It is as though he's afraid to crush her - or the growing life in her belly. 

So Yong yelps as they flip around, but she smiles as she settles into the crook of his shoulder, too spent to speak. 

She rests on top of him, listening to his heartbeat while Cheoljong's fingers lazily sift through her hair. Her thick hair cascades down his chest like a waterfall at midnight.

“It’s nice to steal a pocket of time. I wish it doesn’t have to end,” she sighs, speaking into the skin above his heart.

“I know,” he says softly, wrapping his arms around her.

So Yong props her head on her fist on top of his chest. “We should do this more often.”

Cheoljong's brow lifts teasingly, running a hand up and down her bare back. “You mean this ?” 

She chuckles, and smacks his chest playfully. "I meant, do this.. as in come here."

"Yes. And do this ." He insists, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

She rolls her eyes then lays her head on his chest once more. “Your Majesty…?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re still not getting your pillow back,” she quips.

His answering laughter rumbles through his chest. It reverberates through her body in a deliciously intimate way. 

“Never let it be said that I am a king possessive of his… pillows.”

–

“Do you know where they went?” Hong asks Lady Choi. His eyes dart around the bright antechamber of Daejojeon.

After Yeongpyeong left, Hong set out to question Lady Choi and Hong Yeon immediately. Unsure whether Byeong In knows the king and queen’s exact whereabouts, he asks the two women discreetly, careful not to let anyone hear their conversation. 

“No, Director Hong,” the older woman replies. She peers around the antechamber as though she’s expecting So Yong to materialize from her bedchamber in that instant. 

“Tell me again what happened the last time you saw them.” 

“We were in the garden. Her Highness  was sitting on the bench at the center of the garden when His Majesty stopped by. He walked up to her, then sat next to her on the bench. They talked for a few minutes before His Majesty signaled for us to give them some privacy.” 

Lady Choi’s gaze lands on Hong Yeon, as though she’s confirming whether her recollection of events is accurate. When the maid nods, Lady Choi continues.  “We turned around and stood within respectable distance. Later, the Head Eunuch noticed that they had left. We didn’t think much of it then. We assumed they slipped away, but remained somewhere in the palace.”

“It looks like the Eunuch assumed His Majesty went to Daejojeon, while you thought His Highness was at Huijeongjeon.”

“Is there a problem, Director Hong?” Lady Choi asks. Her voice is low and calm, but her expression is tinged with fear. 

Hong thinks it unwise to alarm the older woman so he pastes a smile on his face and shakes his head, “I’m sure they just went off on a walk to have some private time together. “

“Her Highness is pregnant, please tell me she’s alright,” Heong Yeong interrupts, eyes round and troubled.

“There is nothing to worry about. I just came to offer my congratulations to Her Highness," he lies smoothly. 

Lady Choi looks unconvinced, but if she suspects anything, she doesn't say. “I will let Her Highness know that you came to see her.” 

“I would appreciate that, thank you.” Hong spins on heel,  then changes his mind. He turns and walks back. He lowers his voice, careful not to let anyone on the other side of the door hear him. “Could you not tell anyone that His Majesty and Her Highness have…. gone out for a walk? I’m sure it’s nothing, but it's dangerous to be out there without guards.”

“Of course, Director Hong. We will exercise utmost discretion on this matter.” Lady Choi replies automatically, her restrained tone at odds with the worry in her eyes. 

Hours later, Hong finds himself walking back to his residence, tired, despondent, and still unable to determine where Cheoljong went. He hopes that Yeongpyeong has better luck at finding them.

He learned from a stable boy that Cheoljong took his horse, which means that he left the palace with the queen. But where would he take her?

It rankles Hong that Cheoljong would be so careless. The king is clever, but it is apparent that when it comes to the queen, his judgment is severely lacking.

He is surprised to see one of his men, Dae Ho, leaning casually against his door, waiting for him. He looks tattered and weary as though he traveled back to Hanyang in haste. 

"You're back so soon," Hong says as he slides the doors open. "Don't you have a mission in the south?"

"I have some urgent news."

–

So Yong sits casually by the edge of the porch, her legs dangling by the ledge. She eyes the setting sun as it slowly descends behind a canopy of trees. The sky is a layered parfait of purple and ochre. A flock of birds soars up the skies then disappears behind the trees. 

The welcome weight of Cheoljong’s hands settles on her shoulders, surprising her. She grins unabashedly when he bends down and places a kiss atop her head. He sits down behind her, then wraps his arms around So Yong, resting his elbows on his knees, and his chin on her shoulder.

“How’s the cooking?” she asks, a bubble of laughter escaping her. “I cannot believe you know how to cook!”

So Yong is impressed, for while she has the skill for needlework, and the dexterity for playing a gayageum, she's probably never cooked a single thing her whole life.

“I wasn’t always royal ,” he quips. 

“I guess that explains why you knew exactly what to purchase from the market,” she says, recalling their brief venture into the marketplace earlier. Their spontaneous escape means that both of them are ill-prepared for a night at the summer house. 

“I learned all sorts of things on the island. Besides, I didn’t have a mother growing up, I had to learn all these things myself,” he replies ruefully. 

It was an off-hand comment, but it had a sobering effect on her. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It builds character.”

“What we did is reckless.” 

“The trip to the market?” Cheoljong asks, sounding deceitfully innocent.

“No! Yes. All these. I cannot believe you talked me into running off like that!”

“Me? You practically begged for it. I was merely honoring your request.”

“I never requested such a thing!” she denies indignantly but her words are tinged with laughter.

“You were sulking the last few days.” The amusement in his smile gives lie to the impassivity of his tone.

So Yong elbows Cheoljong softly, chuckling as she does. “I wasn’t sulking!” 

“I thought it might be good to have a day to ourselves…. So you stop sulking .”  He emphasizes the last word just to get a rise out of her. 

“I wasn’t. I'm queasy. My sense of smell is off. Weird things get to me,” she replies morosely.

“I know. I know you weren’t sulking,” he murmurs against her ear, all traces of humor gone. “But, we can always leave now, if you miss the palace so much,” he adds, teasing her once more.

So Yong recognizes the dangers of dodging the guards, but she quite likes being away from the palace, if only for a day.  “No. I think it would be nice to be alone for a while.” With a sigh, she leans back, relishing the feeling of Cheoljong’s chest pressed along the length of her back.

They stay that way for a few moments until Cheoljong breaks the silence. “Let me check the soup I made,” he says, sounding almost reluctant to leave.

Left alone, So Yong stares up the horizon as the ochre hues slowly blend into the dark blue of the evening skies. She closes her eyes for a moment, content at the calm and quiet surrounding her. There are no servants watching her every move. No Lady Choi nagging her about the perils of carrying a child. No one from either the Jo clan or her own clan hovering like vultures.

She wonders if this would have been her life, had her father not married her off to a king. Peaceful. Devoid of intrigues. Safe. But would she have been happier? 

“What are you thinking?” Cheoljong asks from behind her. 

She looks over her shoulder to see Cheoljong towering over her, smiling down at her indulgently.  Past him, she sees a faint reddish glow from a charcoal brazier. He must have lit it up to keep the interior of the house warm. Something about his quiet thoughtfulness makes So Yong smile. 

Instead of sitting behind her once more, Cheoljong plops down next to her, mirroring her casual posture. Like So Yong, he lets his feet dangle on the ledge. 

“I was wondering what my life would be like…. if my father had not married me off to an arrogant king.” she says in jest.

“What would that be like?” 

“I imagine it would be like this,” she replies, gesturing around the porch. “Quiet. Simple.” 

“Sounds idyllic. Safe.” Cheoljong’s tone is light, but So Yong could hear the hint of woe in his words.

“Yes, idyllic. Safe. But just like I told you before, it’s not necessarily better. I like how my life turned out.” 

A somber smile appears on his face. “You know how I feel towards your clan. But I have to thank them for giving me you .” He reaches for her hand and weaves their fingers together. When she looks up, she sees joy behind his dark eyes. 

“What about you? What if you never left the island?” she asks, genuinely curious. “Do you not wonder what would have happened if nobody came looking and made you king? We never would have met.”

“I doubt that. Sooner or later I would have left that island and gone to Hanyang.”

"The call of revenge is too strong?" She asks, amused. 

"The call of revenge is too strong." He repeats in agreement. 

“We never would have met.”

“Perhaps. But I would have come looking for the girl who saved my life once. It’s entirely possible I would have known you much earlier. But I’d be a nobody, and you' never give me the time of day.”

“You think I’m that cruel?” 

“No,” he says solemnly. “But the world we live in is.” 

“Isn’t that why we’re here…. because we want to effect change? What was it that you told me once… ‘We build a better Joseon?’”

“Yes, we need a better Joseon. For our child,” he says solemnly, raising their joined hands to his lips and kisses the top of hers. “When I was a woodcutter, I had this picture of a perfect life. A perfect wife. Perfect children. Perfect quiet life by the sea….” 

“How did that work out for you?” she asks, her tone colored by humor.

He gazes up into the fading light behind the treetops, unfazed by the levity in So Yong’s words. “Instead of the perfect life, I wound up a king, in a palace. And with you. And I am grateful for that everyday.”

If someone had told Cheoljong a year ago that he’d be ditching his own guards to run away with the queen, if only for a day, and that the queen would be pregnant with his child, Cheoljong would not have believed it. He would have laughed if off and chalked it up to a nightmarish whimsy.

But it is true, and it is real. A family he can call his own, the hard-fought love of his queen, his sovereign kingship… Cheoljong wonders what he has done to deserve any of it.

They sit quietly side by side, lost in the comfort of their own thoughts. So Yong nestles closer and rests her head on his shoulder. He looks down at her in surprise as though her spontaneous demonstrations of affection still unbalance him.

“Have you patched things up with your brother?”

He shakes his head, then, he draws the crisp autumn air into his lungs. “No. Not yet. He’s…”

“Give it time. He’ll come around….”

“You think so?”

So Yong nods. “In some ways, you are just like him, Your Majesty.  Obstinate. Vengeful. Highly prejudiced–”

Cheoljong talks over her, unable to hide his amusement at her description. “I hope you’re saving the praises for last.” 

She peers up into his face, her lips curling with a flash of humor. “Would you rather I use ‘tenacious’ instead of ‘obstinate’? Or should I say, ‘does not take crap from anyone’ instead of ‘vengeful’?” She giggles then stops herself, but the mirth remains in her eyes. “All I’m saying is that, in some ways, you are more alike than you think.”

“You forget to add, we are both so dashing.” 

“It is unbecoming of a king to be so vain.” So Yong tries to cast Cheoljong a reproaching glance, but her laughter wins out. 

When Cheoljong speaks again, his expression turns solemn. Wistful. “Yeongpyeong always had the ability to see through clutter and simplify things, if that makes any sense. He has every intention of keeping his circle small because it’s practical. Simple. The less people you care about, the less you lose.  He has a one-track mind….'tenacious' as you say. He’s consumed by completion rather than consequence.” He gazes at So Yong sidelong, his meaning clear as his tone softens. “No matter the consequence.”

“What were you like… before Hanyang, on the island?” she asks wistfully. 

“Yeongpyeong and I? He's the better swimmer, the faster runner. I just happen to be smarter. Better looking too.” 

“And more modest, it seems.”  

“One day, we’ll be older, he'll move slower but I’ll still be smarter,” he blusters, chuckling. “Why the sudden interest in Yeongpyeong?”

“He’s your brother. He cares for you. He knows you best.”

He glances down at their interlaced hands, then toys with hers, warming them, massaging them, sliding his fingers between hers. “No one knows me like you do.” 

Whereas she felt unmoored the last few days, his words tether So Yong, like an anchor in the sea. She lets the feeling find purchase in her heart. Maybe if she tries hard enough, she can rediscover the courage in her heart and the cunning of her mind.

"The sky is beautiful,” she says later, breaking the silence. 

“A sunset would always be a thing of beauty on a night like this…” He turns his head and looks at So Yong, an impish grin ghosting his lips.  “But I prefer what I’m looking at right now.” 

So Yong rolls her eyes, even as warm fuzzies swim in the pit of her belly. And it is definitely not because of the child in her womb. She gestures towards the sky in an effort to distract Cheoljong's heated gaze on her. "Would you at least look? In the palace, we don't often have the luxury to admire the skies."

Cheoljong snickers then raises her knuckles to his lips. He watches her eyes grow soft. "It is beautiful, but I would much rather look at you. Even though you’re nothing like the sunset. You’re something else entirely."

"How so?"

"When I was on the island, I used to spend a lot of time swimming. Down the depths. But underwater, it can be disorienting. It is difficult to say which way is up. Sometimes… I would look for air bubbles… they always go up. And I don't stop swimming until I break the surface."

So Yong keeps her eyes trained on him, wondering what was the point of his story. 

"That is where you exist to me. On the surface of the water. Where there is air. There is light. And I can breathe. I can find my bearings." He pauses quickly, searching her face. His voice turns soft but sure. "The palace, with its endless treachery, threats.. plots. It can be disorienting… stifling. But therein the palace, there's you, and with you, I am able to breathe. I find comfort."

His words floored her. Wordlessly, she moves into the circle of his arms and melts into his chest.

They are both quiet for a while, at least not until Cheoljong hears So Yong’s stomach grumble. He chuckles. “Someone’s starving. Unfortunately, it will take a little more time before the soup is ready. In the meantime, would you like an apple?” 

She nods, “I would love some-”

“Here,” he says, handing the fruit to her. 

“How did you…?”

“The physician said you’d develop strange eating habits. But he wanted to make sure you eat healthy.” 

“Thank you,” So Yong replies. She bites into the fruit, enjoying its delicate sweetness. 

Cheoljong watches as she polishes it. When her tongue peeks out to lick the nectar along her lips, his eyes follow the movement. Later, he lifts a hand to wipe the corner of So Yong’s lip with his thumb. He shows it to her—the juice from the succulent fruit—before sucking it off with a devious smile that causes a tingle between her legs.

She flushes red. She had to be flaming, like the smoldering embers in the brazier. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

In response, Cheoljong leans forward and kisses her. His tongue brushes over her lips, softly at first and then more demanding as he nudges her mouth to open under his gentle pressure. When he draws back, they're both a little out of breath.

So Yong's eyes dart around furtively, as though she's checking whether they have an audience. 

Cheoljong chuckles. "I can assure you, there is nobody there. No one knows we're here."

"Are you certain?" she prods, looking unconvinced. 

"When you feel hunted all your life, you know how to hide."

The weariness on her face disappears slowly, replaced by understanding. It lingers in the silence that follows. They sit together comfortably until the last rays of light disappear below the horizon, and the moon rises to give command to the stars.

Later, Cheoljong glances down to see that So Yong has fallen asleep against his shoulder. A smile curves the edge of her lips, as though she fell asleep in the middle of a happy thought.

Instead of rousing her, Cheoljong carefully pulls his arm loose and wraps it tightly around her, leaning down to kiss the crown of her head. He sits there quietly, basking in the moonlight, and loving the comfort of his family next to him. 

__

The next morning

When So Yong pries her eyes open the next morning, the first thing that registers is how comfortable she is. And warm. Despite the nip in the air. 

The second thing she realizes is that she's practically sprawled on top of Cheoljong. Her legs are tangled with his, her chest is flattened against his, her arm is thrown across his middle, and her head is cradled in the crook of his neck. 

The third thing she notices is the strange sound of quietude. In the distance, she hears the mellifluous chirp of birds, instead of the familiar buzz of servants in the palace. There is none of the muffled chatter, or the muted footfalls, only the soothing sound of singing birds and rustling leaves. 

Why can’t it always be this calm?

The early morning sun filters in through the papered windows, creating crosshatched patterns on the wall. The muted rays of the sun somehow reminds her that by nightfall, they would return to the palace– back to the problems and pleasures of privilege. Even though they still have the whole day to themselves, a feeling of melancholy sets in. 

So Yong immediately tamps down her somber thoughts. She decides that the morning is too precious to spoil, especially when she'd have plenty of time later to wallow in the misery of palace politics.

Careful not to wake Cheoljong, she sneaks a glance at him, looking youthful and serene in sleep. He was always so achingly handsome, but sleep renders his features kinder, softer… more vulnerable. As though sleep has granted him reprieve from his sorrows.

So Yong tilts her head to study Cheoljong's profile, her sleepy gaze traveling down the ridge of his nose, the little imperfection next to his lips, to the sharp outline of his jaw. Slowly, she reaches out to trace a finger over the line of his nose. 

Instantly, his brown eyes crack open.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “I did not mean to wake you.”

“My queen.” He says, drawing out the last syllable, his voice husky with sleep. His arm, which had been draped carelessly around her, tightens almost imperceptibly.

So Yong’s eyes drift shut, snuggling as close as she could. Surely, she is allowed one lazy morning. 

His arm moves again, his fingers ghosting up and down her spine in a slow, idle line.

That's when she hears it– the distant thunder of hooves. Panic slithers up her spine. 

She knows Cheoljong hears it too because she feels him tense beside her. They both go still, listening for the hoofbeats, hoping for it to pass. Hoping for the sound to fade away.

But the sound of pounding hooves grows louder… closer. 

Cheoljong leaps to his feet in one fluid motion. So Yong didn’t even realize that he slept with his sword next to him, until he grabs a scabbard, and pads across the room to the window. 

Pressing his body against the wall, he pushes the window open, just a sliver, and peers cautiously outside. Suddenly, his body stiffens, and he looks at So Yong, his expression grim.

"Get dressed. Now."

Chapter Text

“Get dressed. Now,” Cheoljong tells her then strides out of the room. He straightens his own clothes as he dashes out, leaving So Yong alone. 

She doesn’t need not be told twice; she grabs her discarded clothes and dresses quickly. She ties her hair neatly into a braid, holding the ends while looking for the ribbon that held it together earlier. 

Her face flames at the memory of how her hair had unraveled in the first place. She sprints into the next room to pick up hair ornaments scattered on the floor. She runs a quick inventory and realizes that at least one is missing.

She finds Cheoljong in the main hall looking immaculately dressed in the same blue ensemble he donned the day before. The natural morning light does little to hide the grim expression on his face. 

“Who is it?” she mouths to Cheoljong, just as the intruder’s voice echoes from outside the door. 

Before he can reply, two silhouettes appear on the other side of the door’s paper panels. Cheoljong gives her a quick once over, as if to check whether she’s decent enough to receive visitors. 

"Your Majesty! Your Highness!" yells a familiar voice just beyond the door. Both she and Cheoljong whip their head toward the sound. 

Without a word, Cheoljong turns on his heel and makes his way toward the doors. The door opens to a distressed Director Hong, and a relieved Prince Yeongpyeong. Both men look tired and weary, as though neither have had enough sleep the night before. 

So Yong expels a sigh of relief before sauntering towards them. Hong and Yeongpyeong acknowledge her presence before turning to Cheoljong once more. They speak in hushed tones that So Yong is barely able to glean any information. 

“Your Majesty, we need to leave.” Yeongpyeong says urgently. There is a fidgety quality to him that So Yong has not seen before.

“Did something happen?” She asks as she joins the three men at the doorway. 

“We will fill you in along the way, Your Highness,” comes Hong’s immediate answer. His eyes, however, don't stay long on So Yong. They gravitate back to Cheoljong almost immediately. “But we really must go now.”

So Yong's eyes dart behind Hong, just past the porch. She sees Dae Ho standing guard, his back to her. He looks completely alert and his gaze never wavers from the tree-lined pathway.  He stands stiffly as though he’s expecting an attack at any moment.

“I will ride with the queen back to the palace." Cheoljong’s words pull her back into the conversation. 

Hong and Yeongpyeong exchange tense glances. It is Yeongpyeong who speaks. His voice is low, firm, and leaves no opening for question. “We’re not going back to the palace, Your Majesty.”

Fear slithers up So Yong’s spine. Without even realizing it, she sidles closer to Cheoljong. “Where are we going?”

“The hideout,” comes Cheoljong’s quiet answer. His face goes dark and tight.

Hong hands So Yong a small pouch. "Your Highness, you must change. We cannot attract attention. Lady Choi and Hong Yeon sent you this."

So Yong takes in her azure jeogori and nods without question. Something terrible must have happened if Hong had gotten out of the way to even bring her a change of clothes. 

She knows Cheoljong reads the worry on her face because he puts a comforting hand on her shoulder. It sends a familiar sensation of calm through her. "It's alright." 

Wordlessly, she takes the pouch and stalks towards one of the rooms. She slips into the drabby-looking trouser ensemble that Hong gave her.

Later, So Yong finds herself next to one of the horses. She takes one last longing glance at the summer house before attempting to climb the beast. Sensing her worry, Cheoljong lifts her onto the horse, then settles behind her in a swift, fluid movement. 

So Yong feels the lines of his body fit along hers. His proximity, a balm to her escalating fear. For the second time that morning, she hears Cheoljong say, "It's alright."

–– 

Meanwhile, at the palace.

Byeong In stares at what he can only be described as a small feast in front of him. It is the first time the Dowager Queen Sunwon has invited him to join her for a meal. Much to his delight, Sunwon, who is known for her discerning taste in food, does not disappoint. 

"What is taking so long, Byeong In?" the older woman's familiar tirade interrupts his thoughts. “Isn’t the king missing? Why have you not reinstated my powers yet?”

He stops mid-chew and swallows his food carefully. He meets the woman's gaze unflinchingly. “I will deliver on my promise, Your Highness. You will be this country's regent again. Soon.” 

"'Soon is not enough!” she responds snidely. “Surely, you are more capable, more clever than the king. And yet you allow him to make a mockery of our clan.”

Byeong In resists the impudent urge to roll his eyes. The insinuation that he and the king are equals is an affront he cannot tolerate, but he is much too clever not to see Sunwon’s gambit. Refusing to be goaded into impulsive action, he says, "I ask for a little more patience, Your Highness. It won’t be long now.”

"We have no power, very little influence… and you're asking me to be patient?"

"I’m onto something." For a moment, Byeong In considers telling the Dowager Queen of his plans. But he decides against it. He isn't playing the long game just so the older woman's tantrums could ruin it. “When I finish, you will have a king who will take pleasure in doing your bidding.” 

“What about the queen?” 

“What about her, Your Highness?" He goes for a look of mild disinterest.  He knows that it will not be easy for So Yong to be in Sunwon’s good graces again but he keeps that thought to himself. 

“She’s carrying the king’s child,” she states matter-of-factly, but Byeong In can hear the echo of something else. A taunt to test his true motives for dethroning the king.  

“It is good news. All the more so for us because it will render credence to your regency.” 

Sunwon arches an eyebrow in question, a silent demand for a better explanation.

“Without the king, the queen will come running to us. She won’t have a choice. She will eventually realize that she needs our clan to survive in the palace, and you will have control over her child.”  

Sunwon narrows her eyes at Byeong In. Assessing. Calculating. He can practically see the wheels turning inside her head. 

But Byeong In is careful not to sound thrilled over the prospect of So Yong returning to their clan. More importantly, he found a reason to be glad for the queen’s pregnancy. Sunwon, in all her vile ways, would not actually harm a pregnant woman, moreso the queen who carries the king’s child. If the Dowager Queen is as clever as she is touted to be, then she will realize that So Yong and her child are more useful to her alive than dead. 

He doesn't like the prospect of Sunwon exerting influence over So Yong , but it's the best he can do to ensure her safety. At least for now. He will just have to find a way to protect both mother and child from the rest of their clan, and then wait patiently for the day for So Yong to come around. It will take a while, perhaps years, but he is almost certain she will move on from the king. One day, she will forgive him and see things his way.

“What do you suggest I do with that child?”

Byeong In shrugs, pretending nonchalance. When he speaks again, he chooses his words carefully to make Sunwon think that So Yong and her child are crucial to her powers. “Without the influence of the king, the queen and her child will be more useful to you than you think. Besides, that child is still part of our clan. ”  

“And the king..?”

“Will no longer be a problem to you.” He doesn’t mention that once So Yong is back in the palace, the king will either be dead, or under his thumb. The king may not care for the queen as much as Byeong In would like him to, but no man, not even a king, would forsake his own child. 

“You are much like your father, sometimes.” Sunwon declares. Is that wonder and approval in her voice? “Patient. Cunning. You both have a keen foresight.”

Byeong In resists the urge to smirk at the compliment. He cannot let the woman think that he's after her approval. He has no intention of pandering to her whims like the rest of his clan. And while he is extremely satisfied with the progress of his plans, he will provide the Dowager Queen information as he sees fit. 

Who would've thought that getting rid of the king is as good as hitting two birds with one stone? He not only eliminated his clan's biggest problem, he's getting So Yong back too. 

He steals a glance at the older woman but remains quiet. Worldlessly, he drains the contents of his cup and sets it back down on the table.

“Speaking of your father, I want him back here soon.”

“He can come back anytime,” he says noncommittally. "But I will see to it that he does right away."

–-

So Yong feels Cheoljong breathe as soon as the mountain hideaway comes into view. She never expected something so crudely built to be so welcoming. She glances heavenward through the trees and sees the purple tint of dusk blending into the bluish tint of the evening skies. Against the darkening horizon, the cottage almost looks like a humble home, waiting for a family to return after a day of toiling in the mountains. 

“We’re here,” Cheoljong says from behind her. He sounds as relieved as she feels.  

She stares at Cheoljong's hands gripping the reins, wondering if he's in pain. She leaned against him for most of the way, but she heard no complain, not a word of protest. He was nothing but a warm, solid presence behind her.

Slowly, they canter up a grassy knoll leading to the hideaway's decrepit entrance. Ahead of them, she sees Yeongpyeong dismount his horse. He stretches his legs then rolls his shoulders as if to relieve the stiff muscles in his back. Behind them, Hong kicks his horse and rides ahead. Wordlessly, he dismounts then proceeds to water his horse. Dae Ho follows quietly. 

The journey took twice longer than expected that instead of arriving at noon, they get there at dusk. So Yong knows that Yeongpyeong chafes at their slower pace, but there is nothing she can do about it.  Riding on horseback made the queasy feeling in her stomach much worse, requiring them to make a few stops along the way.

Cheoljong descends from his mount, then reaches for her to swing her down carefully. His hands remain on her, steadying her, as though he's expecting her to land wobbly on her feet.  

"You're alright. We're alright." His voice is as soft, as it is firm, as though he's assuring both of them.

"I'm fine, Your Majesty" she says with all the verve she doesn't feel. Her muscles are sore from riding, and sitting atop a horse for most of the day made her lightheaded. 

She gives Cheoljong an assessing gaze, wondering if he's in pain. She leaned against him for most of the way, but she heard no complain, not a word of protest. He was nothing but a warm, solid presence behind her.

Cheoljong takes her hand and leads her towards a few logs surrounding a tinder bed that Dae Ho just built. He adds a few dried twigs as kindling before starting a fire, then offers So Yong a small smile. 

Cheoljong sits So Yong on one of the logs before lowering himself onto the ground next to her. The fire offers light and heat in the encroaching chill of dusk. 

At the corner of her eye, she notices Yeongpyeong and Hong busying themselves, preparing the hideaway for the evening. It is fairly obvious that they won't be going back to the palace anytime soon. 

"What are we doing here, Dae Ho?" So Yong asks, breaking the silence. 

Dae Ho throws another log into the fire before shooting a meaningful glance at Hong, who chooses that exact moment to join them. 

"What did you find out?" Cheoljong asks as Hong lowers himself onto a log from across So Yong. 

"Kim Hwan overheard Byeong In issuing orders to…. " His voice trails off as he meets So Yong's eye. "They found out you ditched the guards. And he sent his men to look for you."

Cheoljong is quiet as though he understands the words Hong does not say. Somehow, So Yong understands it too, but she needed to hear them. "What exactly were Byeong In's orders?"

Hong averts his gaze and turns to Cheoljong. "We think his men sent his men to kill you, Your Majesty." 

"He would never do that." Hong's words spin in So Yong's head, her thoughts in a vortex of outrage and disbelief. Cheoljong tenses beside her. 

Hong repeats Kim Hwan's narrative. "I'm afraid, Your Highness, it's true. My own sources have confirmed it. Your clan is hell bent on appointing a new king."

So Yong is not surprised by her clan's diabolic plans, but the insinuation that Byeong In would, in fact, issue orders to murder a king sounds so utterly preposterous. "That’s high treason!" 

Cheoljong remains silent beside her until, "It means, your clan is desperate."

Hong stares at the glowing fire, his face grim behind a thin haze of smoke. “Or you have really angered them. You don’t poke a bear and not expect it to maul you in response.”

"But why now…?" So Yong asks, realization trickling in. Byeong In must have been planning it for months, stalking, watching, waiting for the right opportunity. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Yeongpyeong approach, his face an inscrutable mask. He doesn’t sit, instead, he plants himself behind Dae Ho. 

Hong’s jaw tightens as he leans forward.  "Your Highness, your child consolidates His Majesty's power. And with you, turning your back on your clan…." 

"Weakens my clan's influence further," So Yong finishes for Hong. She’d been anticipating this moment for weeks—the moment when her clan would finally catch up with her treachery, and she would have to face the full extent of their ire. "But.. I still cannot believe Byeong In would–"

"Byeong In isn't after you, Your Highness," interjects Yeongpyeong, his tone sharp, like shards of glass grazing her skin. 

"He's after me," Cheoljong declares. He glares at Yeongpyeong, a wordless reprimand for his earlier tone. 

"Not you, Your Highness," Hong says, breaking the tension between the brothers. "They intend to take you back to the palace."

So Yong realizes where the conversation is headed, and it feels as though the storm she feared, brewed into a real life tempest coming for her.

"There is something else," says Hong. "Rumors spread that His Majesty is missing. They used this rumor to lock down the palace. We barely escaped with our lives last night."

"Word around the palace is that soldiers are out searching for you, Your Majesty," Dae Ho chimes in, his wariness alight by the fire.

"They're not searching for His Majesty. They are hunting him down. They won't let him back in the palace alive." So Yong is surprised to hear Yeongpyeong speak. He's been so quiet the whole time that she's almost forgotten about his presence. "They will take him out as soon as as he comes near the palace walls."

"But to what end?"

"So they can install a new king. A patsy. Someone easier to manipulate." Yeongpyeong’s tone is just the slightest bit condescending, as though he cannot believe he needs to spell out the situation to her. 

So Yong skips over Yeongpyeong's offending tone, for such is the folly of a limited intellect. Instead, she focuses her attention on her clan's recent scheme. It is so diabolic, so cunning, that if So Yong were a mere observer, she would have been greatly impressed. So much so, that if she were Byeong In, it is exactly what she would have done. "Is that Byeong In's plan?"

Hong shrugs. "Possibly." 

"It doesn't make sense. He'll commit high treason out of loyalty to our clan? What is his end game?"

None of them appear to have answers either. At least, nothing more than greed and loyalty. 

Silence falls around the fire. The flames crackled raucously as a charred log shifts, sending incandescent particles up into the air.  

Cheoljong turns to So Yong and holds her gaze. His eyes tell her something his words don’t. 

And then it made sense. Realization comes to her, gradual and fleeting, but clear.  She shakes her head, denying Cheoljong's silent insinuation. No. Byeong In cannot be doing any of it for her. 

Something flares in Cheoljong’s eyes. “Do not underestimate the propensity of the heart to do evil,” he says under his breath, quoting her. The words are said quietly, the sound drowned out by the crackling fire. 

Not wanting to discuss Byeong In with Cheoljong, So Yong addresses Dae Ho. “Is that why you're here, Dae Ho? Did you know about these too?” 

Dae Ho shakes his head, “I came back to Hanyang to give Director Hong some news. I suppose I came at the right time. The leaders of the herb gatherers, farmers, requested an audience with His Majesty."

Cheoljong angles his body so he’s facing Dae Ho directly. "Why would they want that?"

"I think they might want to strike an alliance with you. They are willing to meet at a neutral location.”

“Where?”

“At a camp.. About a day’s trek from here. It could be faster on horseback but I cannot be certain.  Sang Jo and I agreed to meet here tonight. He should have more details…” 

“Then where is Sang Jo?”

Dae Ho grimaces. “I don’t know; something must have kept him. Sang Jo is never late.” 

“Then we should leave for that camp at daybreak,” Yeongpyeong says, joining the conversation once more. There is a hard edge to his tone– an urgent resonance.

They all look at Cheoljong, waiting for his instructions. Instead, he’s silent. There is hesitation in his eyes, as though he’s trying to solve a problem in his head.  “What else do you know of this camp… about the people who want to meet with us?” 

“It’s up in the mountains, but there is a shorter path if we follow the river.” Dae Ho looks at So Yong carefully, as if to warn her kindly. “But it’s a tricky journey.” 

"Can this information be trusted? Are you sure it's not a trap?"

“I suspect that Byeong In has his own eyes and ears within their ranks so it’s likely he knows about the leader’s desire to speak to you directly,” Dae Ho says in response. 

Hong gestures with his hand. "But the information is good, Your Highness. Our own men verified it." 

“But why would they wish to speak to His Majesty? I thought their allegiance is to my clan?” 

“Our own spies found out that they had it with your clan. They may be uneducated, but they are not dimwits, Your Highness. They know they are being used.” Hong explains patiently. “Their demands have long been ignored, and they want to be heard. They are in favor of your earlier suggestion of sending a representative to the king’s council.”

“I thought you’ve already done that?” 

Dae Ho and Hong exchange glances before Hong speaks again. “We thought we did. We had someone vetted properly. But your clan made sure the representative was under their thumb. They threatened to have his family killed if he refuses to do their bidding.” 

That definitely sounds like her clan. "If you forge an alliance with them, can you shore up enough force to storm the palace?”

A shadow of uncertainty crosses Cheoljong’s features, distress etched in every line of his face. “That is the goal, but is such a feat even possible? These are farmers, herb gatherers…. Not trained fighters. Soldiers will crush them in a heartbeat.”

Hong shoves to his feet startling them. “How many men do you think they have?”

There is a thoughtful expression on Dae Ho’s face. "Rough estimate would be around a thousand men."

"That won't be enough," Hong mutters. 

“Maybe we don't have to fight them head on. We only need a distraction so I can sneak back in.” 

Dae Ho glances at Cheoljong before holding his hands over the fire. “What do you have in mind, Your Majesty?” 

“I don’t know yet,” Cheoljong replies, his eyes squinting as he stares blankly into the flames.

Hong hesitates before speaking once more. “Byeong In is on high alert. Soldiers are deployed all over the palace. All entrances are heavily guarded. It will be difficult to enter the palace unnoticed.” 

All at once, an idea popped into So Yong’s head.  "You need someone on the inside to let you in." She can feel Cheoljong seeking her gaze as though he can read her thoughts. She pretends not to notice and fixes her attention on Dae Ho. 

Hong narrows his eyes; there is no trace of the smirk that usually greets her.  "We don't have men on the inside. Even if we do, what can he do on his own?" 

Her idea comes to life. It starts small, then grows. Like seeds on damp soil, growing from a speck of green to a verdant vine crawling across a wall. "You are right. You don't have men on the inside."

So Yong sees the exact moment Cheoljong’s expression turns grim, apprehension clouding his features. It is as if he sees the thoughts churning in her mind. He shakes his head subtly, almost imperceptibly, as though his unspoken rebuke is manifesting outwardly. 

But her idea seems like the best one yet. The question is, can she go through with it? She opens her mouth to speak, but the words do not come.  First, she must temper the tempest in her heart, for how can she hope to go through with her plan, if she can't even articulate it? 

Cheoljong’s gaze find hers once more, entreating her. In his eyes, So Yong sees the weight he carries in his shoulders. He bears the burden of his people. And just recently, his promise to take care of her and their child. The realization gives her plan purpose.

"It's been a long day. Let's rest and discuss this in the morning," Cheoljong says quietly. “We will wait for Sang Jo.”

None of them argued.  The night had finally come.

--

Cheoljong throws a couple of dried logs into the dying fire then pokes the smoldering embers with a stick.  Somehow, he coaxes the dying embers to alight, the crackling sound soothing him. He twists his neck to peer at the dark cottage before huddling closer to the fire.

Hong, Yeongpyeong and Dae Ho have all retired for the night. He cannot really blame them, it’s been a long day. Unfortunately for him, not even exhaustion would grant his mind a moment’s respite.

A silky voice from behind him interrupts his thoughts. “For a man being hunted down, you look awfully unperturbed, Your Majesty.” 

Cheoljong looks over his shoulder to see So Yong striding towards him. "You get used to it. Frankly, I am more concerned with the look you had on your face."

“What look?” she replies innocently. 

She's just about to lower herself to the log next to him, when he takes her hand and tugs her into the open V of his legs so she is settled on his thigh. "You had that look earlier… the one you put on when you're plotting."

Her lips curve into a smile as she drapes a slender arm around his shoulder. “I have a look? What’s that like exactly?” 

“A furrow appears between your brows.” He traces a brow with a finger. “You look up to the right and…” His thumb traces the outline of her lower lip, her breath hitching. “You purse your lips.” 

He is rewarded with a soft chuckle; the sound is music in the quiet night. “Two can play this game, Your Majesty,” she says, her eyes still alight with laughter. With her thumb, she traces the sensitive area below his left eye. “Your eyes… They're asymmetrical. Intense emotions -grief, joy, rage– make the asymmetry more pronounced.”

“Is that supposed to be a bad thing?”

“It’s not.”

“I was told I had nice eyes.” It is his turn to chuckle. 

“They lied,” she shoots back, her tone steeped in humor.  

For several beats, silence settles over them. The fire crackles and sparks, warming them even as an autumn breeze hits his face. The scent of wood smoke wafts through the chilly air. 

“Your Majesty….” So Yong's features turn pensive. “The journey from the summer house to this place should have taken half a day. It took us twice as long.” Her tone hinted at something far more than an assessment of their journey —a trap he doesn’t yet see. “It’s because of me.”

“What matters is that we made it here safely," he replies quickly. 

"You need to meet their leaders. Listen to what they say. See if you can strike a deal…. I am not needed in that meeting.”

Cheoljong's eyes, which narrow with every word she says, turn to slits. "Where are you going with this thought, So Yong-ah?”

Her demeanor is calm as always; only the firestorm in her eyes gives her away. “I am going back to the palace.”

“No." His arm on her waist tightens and he spits the word like a curse. 

“You need someone inside the palace to let you in. Or all these would mean nothing.” 

"We will find another way,” he insists.

So Yong leaps to her feet, putting some distance between them. He immediately feels bereft of her warmth. "There is no other way," she declares, her tone strangely devoid of emotion. 

“You are asking me to send you back to the palace?” He rubs a forefinger and a thumb into his eyes until he sees stars underneath his eyelids. “Back to your clan?”

"You should know, Your Majesty, that I would follow you anywhere….” She says softly, entreating him to listen. “But I will be more useful in the palace. Besides, I cannot do this journey. It is much too perilous in my condition."

“There has to be another way. We can travel slowly. Carefully. As long as it takes. As long as you need.” He looks up to find So Yong staring blankly into the fire. No; not staring blankly. It looks as though she's focusing all her attention on the fire, blocking all else. 

“By the time we reach the camp, they would have already left. Or Byeong In would have caught up with us. Or my clan would have selected a new king," She seems to be reciting the words, as if she's practiced saying them over and over. 

“Then we can change the meeting place.”

“Your Majesty, you don’t have that bargaining power. Nor the time to demand such changes.”

"I won't be there to help you when something goes wrong. Not like…" Not like before. His voice quiets to a harsh whisper, remembering the last two times she ventured out without him. The first time she almost got hurt by marauders. He couldn't even begin to think about what they could have done to her if he didn't get to her on time. The second time, Byeong In almost caught her. "You court attention. The wrong kind."

"I know. Maybe you won't have to save me this time."

Acting instinctively, Cheoljong shoots to his feet and moves until he's standing next to her. “You would gamble everything on 'maybe'? My queen–" 

“Sometimes, a ‘maybe’ is all we have," she interrupts him much more forcefully than he'd expect. He can feel her nerves fraying, like cracks on a thin sheet of ice blanketing the lake.  She inches closer, resting both hands on his chest. The gentle gesture grounds him, quieting his frustration. "Even so, I would gamble on you," she murmurs. 

He leans forward and presses his brow to hers. "My Queen," he says in a harsh whisper, equal parts supplication and rebuke. 

For a moment, he feels her leaning into him. Then she pulls back, just a little, but still so close that all he sees is her, his sorrow reflected in her eyes. "I believe you can convince them to take your side. You need only to be what you already are— a wise and compassionate king, and  one day, an even better father. Let them see that in you."

Cheoljong gazes into So Yong’s agonized face, growing desperate to convince her not to make rash decisions. What is the point of power, when he is powerless to protect his own family? “My queen… Don't do this.”

A sad smile tugs at her lips but her eyes glow with the same steely determination he'd always seen in her. "Believe that I can keep myself, our child, safe. That I can find safe passage for your return. Just as I believe you'll find the quickest way back to me. Back to us ."

"I believe you. I do," he swears, his voice breaking. "But I do not wish for you to be alone. Not in glory. Not in grief."   

She presses her palm against the side of his face. It is cold, but it gave him comfort. "We do what we must."

He closes the distance and slips his arms around her body, pulling her into his chest. She melts into him instantly. He savors the moment, feeling as though he is left with only a finite number of opportunities to hold her.  

“You have to let me go.” A pronouncement not a plea.

“I can't.” He says, his voice as broken as his heart. 

“You have to trust me.”

“It is your clan I do not trust.”

"You know I need to go back. It is our best chance." 

His vision blurs as though he’s looking at something through fire, her words ringing in her ears. Only yesterday, they were in the summer house, basking in solitude. How quickly the quietude turned to a cold and sinister dread.

For a while, they stay immobile, wrapped in each other's arms. 

Warmed by fire. 

Watched by stars.

"Do you remember what I told you about crushing your enemies?" She asks, breaking the silence.

Your Majesty, you must crush your enemies completely. Do not give them an opportunity to regroup and exact their revenge later.

Of course, he does. How could he not?  “What about it?” 

“This is an opportunity to do exactly that. To cut off the rotten parts of Joseon so our child grows up in a better world. Your words.” 

“You’re quoting me now?”

“You’re not the only one with a sharp memory,” she quips then draws back to see his face, splaying her hands across his shoulders.“If you’re always looking over your shoulder to see who's coming after you, you’ll lose sight of what’s infront of you.”

"My queen, we don't have to make decisions tonight."

"You can’t order me to stay.”

“Am I not your king?” he grinds out. Beside her is where he should be. Exactly where he wants to be.

 "If we don't do this, you won't be king for much longer," she laments.

“How do you expect me to be okay with all these?"

She says nothing at first; she simply lays her head on the crook between his neck and shoulder. Then: "Because I believe in you, just as much as you believe in me."

Sensing that So Yong would not let the matter drop, he does not say anything more. He lets his fear of losing her blend with the night, but he takes refuge in the sheer belief that if So Yong returns to the palace, she would not give up. Would not give in. Nor would she crumble in the face of intimidation or terror.  She would scheme, and smile, and strike at the right time. She would defend herself. Protect their child. And be ingenious about it, as only So Yong could. 

We do what we must.

"Why do you have to be so brave all the time?" he says, hearing the anguish in his own voice. 

“I don't know how else to be.”

Chapter Text

There is a cold breeze in the air; the wind frigid against So Yong's cheek. Up above, through a canopy of leafless twigs, the sky is a sea of gray. In the distance, she can hear the faint burble of the river. 

So Yong cannot tell whether it’s morning or afternoon, just that she’s in the middle of a glade littered with the dead leaves of autumn.

She sees a lone figure by the edge of the clearing, but he is shrouded in diaphanous fog. His back is to her but she recognizes the blue and gold finery. The figure shifts, raising his sword as though he’s expecting an attack.

“Your Majesty!” she yells, but the words die in her throat.

She sees someone else– a soldier— advancing stealthily towards the king. Cheoljong remains calm, seemingly unaware of the attack that's coming from behind. 

Something about the soldier’s tall and lithe form tickles her memory, but she cannot see his face, only the feral grace in which he moves.  He unsheathes his sword and moves closer, stalking Cheoljong. 

Shards of terror slice through So Yong. She screams, desperate to call Cheoljong's attention. But there is no sound, only the stillness of the forest.   She tries to rush forward, but she stumbles, her movement sluggish, as though something weighs her down. 

The soldier advances and swings. When Cheolong sees him, it is too late. The soldier, quick and agile, strikes him, right through the chest. Cheoljong grasps his wound, his face contorting in pain. He staggers backwards and then falls to the ground. 

She screams once more but only soundless air comes out. When she looks at Cheoljong again, her gaze lands on dead leaves drenched in crimson. 

So Yong jerks awake, blinking, confused by her surroundings. She stares at the unfamiliar thatched ceiling for several moments before remembering where she is.

The sun is peeking through a small opening on the cottage. She can feel the hardness of the makeshift bed and the slightly itchy covers that are more rags than blanket. She sits up trying to shake off the lingering terror from her dream.

The distinctive thwack of an ax connecting with something solid registers in her mind. She rises from the bed and steps out of the cottage to find Cheoljong swinging the head of an ax at a log. Splinters shoot in the air as the wood splits into two. 

Still shaken, So Yong is tempted to tell Cheoljong of her nightmare. But if she tells him the depth of her own fears, he’d throw away the chance to win his kingship back.

I don’t wish for you to be alone. Not in glory. Not in grief, he said. 

He’d force his way to stay by her side … and she would let him. She’d felt it before, when she chose the cold depths of the lake over her clan’s orders to spy on him. She feels it again: the pull to give him all of her. To give in to him. To give herself away for him.

So she clamps on her heart and swallows the words that would articulate her fears.

Instead, So Yong focuses on the moment– at Cheoljong swinging an ax. She, at least, finds herself smiling at the sight. 

Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined seeing Cheoljong doing something so… plebeian. He is dressed in black instead of the crimson robes she has grown accustomed to; chopping wood instead of unfurling scrolls, and standing alone in the middle of the glade, absent his usual retinue. 

“You’re up early,” she says as she saunters over to Cheoljong, interrupting his swing. A slight breeze stirs the fallen leaves behind him.

He peers over his shoulder and breaks into a grin. “You’re up late.”

So Yong rolls her eyes, and gestures at the healthy pile of firewood he has collected. “Are we preparing for a long winter here, Your Majesty?”

He swings the ax one more time, burying it in the middle of the chopping block.  “No, just storing enough until Sang Jo gets here.”

“I was surprised you even knew how to use an ax, let alone swing it like that.”

Her teasing tone is met with a chuckle. “What….? You’ve never seen anyone chop wood before?”

“I’ve never seen a king chop wood before.”

He looks at her for a long moment. “You spend time with other kings that I don't know about?" He teases, his eyes twinkling with humor.

So Yong snickers, "Oh just a few, but none of them can swing an ax… And certainly none as charming as you."

Cheoljong chortles. "I was a woodcutter once," he says.

So Yong feels suddenly warm, the sound of his laughter quieting the terrors of her dream. “I believe you.” She notices then that Yeongpyeong, Hong and Dae Ho aren’t in the hideaway. “Where is everyone?”

“Out. Yeongpyeong and Hong are out scouting the area, covering our tracks, setting traps… making sure we weren’t followed. Dae Ho is out hunting, I believe.” 

"Oh. It's just the two of us then," she says blithely, reveling in the quietude.

He gives her a heated look, one that makes her tingle from head to toe. "Is that an… invitation?"

So Yong snickers once more, humored by his audacity. "You, Your Majesty, are insufferable!"

Cheoljong's grin gives way to laughter- hearty and infectious. She laughs with him.

Her eyes dart around the hideaway, and notices a plank of wood installed next to the drystone wall. It is riddled with gashes and punctures as though knives have been repeatedly thrown at it. Three concentric circles are drawn on to it, the smallest circle the size of a cup's brim. 

Cheoljong follows her gaze. “Do you have your dagger with you?” he asks.

“I do.” She takes it out from the folds of her clothes. 

“You take it with you at all times?” 

“I do now.”

Cheoljong smiles at her reply before taking the small dagger; it looks even smaller in his hands. He examines it, moving his finger along the sharp edge. He steps into position then takes aim at the plank of wood. The dagger somersaults through the air and buries itself right through the middle of the smallest circle.

He gives So Yong a satisfied smirk. The morning sun renders the little crinkles around his eyes more pronounced, one eye slightly smaller than the other. She notices their asymmetry, a flaw she has grown to love. Just as she loves all his other flaws. 

"Showoff," she says, but she basks in his smile– one that is precious in its rarity. 

He jogs towards the wooden plank and plucks her dagger. Instead of returning to her side, he takes a brief detour, and walks towards the cottage. That's when she notices three knives buried in one of the posts. Cheoljong pulls them out, and strides back to her. 

"Here. Your turn," he says, handing her the small dagger.

So Yong takes it and throws. It soars mightily through the air… and lands awkwardly two feet away from the target. 

In her periphery, she sees Cheoljong’s effort not to burst out laughing. "Not bad for your first try," he says; his mild tone belies the humor underneath.

So Yong narrows her eyes, irked at his impertinence. "I would thank you not to patronize me, Your Majesty."

Cheoljong sidles up to her, his expression one of mischief. “I wasn’t… but it is a relief to know that you’re not good at everything you do.”  

So Yong eyes his movement as he takes another aim at the target. She observes his stance and the motion of his arm as he throws all three knives in quick succession, each one hitting the target.

He gives So Yong another self-satisfied smile. She cannot help it– she returns it. When he walks off to retrieve the knives once more, he finds herself watching his easy gait.

"Throwing knives is more mental than physical. I thought it would be something you would be good at. Watch your movement, focus," he says as he walks back. He hands her the smaller dagger again.

She throws the knife once more; it doesn’t hit the target but it slams on the board. 

“At least you hit the board this time,” Cheoljong chuckles as he hands her another. “Throw with your arm, not your wrist.” 

So Yong focuses on the target, observing her breathing. She throws it, mindful of her arm as Cheoljong suggested. The dagger doesn’t stick but at least it hits much closer to the target. Pleased, she gives Cheoljong her own smug smile. “How’s that for almost hitting the target?

Cheoljong chuckles then steps closer. “Ah yes, you’re exceptionally skilled at almost hitting the target.”

So Yong rolls her eyes at his sarcasm. “This is harder than I thought.”

He comes up behind her, slips his arms around her body and pulls her into his chest. “Your stance…” he says as his left hand drops to her hip, angling her body. “Your arm motion should go this way…” With his right hand, he takes So Yong’s knife hand and demonstrates a swinging motion. “You must watch your breathing…” he murmurs against her ear. 

"I know what you're doing," she admonishes Cheoljong, but she remains in place.

"Of course, you do. I'm showing you how to throw a dagger," he replies, his tone treacherously even. 

“Must you stand so close then?” she asks, trying to ignore the warm tingly sensations that steals over her. She moves sideways and narrows her eyes at Cheoljong. His face is deceptively innocent.

“I’m showing you how to throw a dagger properly,” he repeats, deadpan, but his eyes hold an impish gleam. “Now, stop stalling and throw the knife.” 

She practices the throw again, watching her breathing and trying to settle into a comfortable stance. She swings her arm but doesn’t throw the dagger.

He points at the wooden plank. "If you hit the target, you can ask me for anything."

So Yong narrows her eyes, "Anything?"

“Yes, anything.”

“I can think of a few right now," she replies, challenging him. Oh she fully intends to practice throwing knives, just to wipe off the smug smile off his face. A wish granted would simply be the cherry on top of the cake.

“Then show me. Unless, of course, you're afraid… ” So Yong hears the unspoken dare in his voice.

"Aren't you even going to ask what they are? You're terrible at negotiating."

"And right now, you're terrible at throwing knives," he quips, his eyes crinkling at the sides.

So Yong hates dares.  Always have. It was how Kim Hwan and Byeong In baited her when they were children. “You cannot just agree to ‘anything!’ That doesn’t make sense.”

“Neither does the bravest woman I know turning down a simple challenge,” Cheoljong shoots back. “Now, throw.”

She does. The knife spins through the air…. and bounces off the wooden plank, but it hits the outermost circle. “I hit it!” she exclaims triumphantly. 

Cheoljong chuckles as he approaches the plank to collect the knives. When he returns, he hands her a knife again. “Now, make it stick, and I shall grant you, by royal decree no less, anything you want."

So Yong makes a few more throws, but she is largely unsuccessful at making the knife stick. So much for wiping off the smug smile on Cheoljong's face.

“I think that’s enough knife throwing for a day,” Cheoljong says after a while. “Nobody’s perfect on their first try.”

“I hope I never have to use it,” she says softly. “Knives are defensive weapons.”

“They are,” he agrees somberly. “You use a knife to survive, not to win a fight.” He wipes So Yong’s dagger with the sleeve of his clothes and returns it to her. “But it’s highly effective, if you know how to wield it. Especially when your opponent doesn’t expect a knife coming.”

“Like when you have to stab someone in the back?”

“You can say that.”

“Or did you mean something like this?” She pulls at the ties on Cheoljong’s clothes, and cuts them. She giggles when she sees how the cut strings loosens his clothes. 

“My queen,” he says, his tone low and teasing. “If I hadn’t known better, I’d say you’re trying to undress me.” He gives her a look that’s pure sin. 

So Yong lends levity to her voice, hoping her face isn’t as hot as she feels, “That’s for teasing me earlier.” She averts her gaze and looks at the dagger, gleaming in the morning light.

“I can't believe you carry your dagger with you at all times.”

“I like keeping a piece of you with me,” she says solemnly. 

Her words seem to make Cheoljong pause, his teasing smile replaced by quiet joy. Without a word, he moves closer until he’s next to her, his hand drifting toward the slight curve of her belly. “You carry a part of me.”

She looks up to meet Cheoljong's gaze, his expression an exact match to hers. She realizes they're both thinking the same thing– a difficult choice they both have to make. "Do you not believe I can survive life in the palace?"

“Not with daggers,” he says trying to sound light-hearted, but his eyes look sad. “But with deception.”

”Then you agree… I should go back?”

"How can you ask me that?" He says, sounding completely tormented "Sometimes….” He pauses as his voice cracks. Then he breathes deep as though he’s fighting to keep his voice even. “Sometimes, you ask for too much."

Reeling from her nightmare, So Yong imagines herself as broken pieces– dark, light and chipped– each part sliding into place to form a whole. Some pieces are all hers, some she discovered along the way… and the chipped ones– those that hold her together– are his.

She is just as terrified to lose the pieces that tether her to him but… "Your Majesty…what choice do we have?"

So Yong isn't sure why she's arguing the point. In truth, she is afraid of going back to the palace. Even more terrified of what might happen to Cheoljong if he takes the tricky journey to the encampment. What if it's a trap? What if her dream is a warning? 

He lifts his hand to the side of her face, his thumb skimming her cheekbone. "No choice is more important to me than you."

"You know I feel the same way," she laments, her eyes searching his face. "But we don't give in when it’s difficult. We see things through to the end.”

At first he doesn't speak; the wet sheen of his eyes tell the depths of his anguish. "You will be at the complete mercy of your clan. You cannot leave the palace. They will find ways to break you."

"I know," she croaks. Cheoljong's words speak the truth of her fears. "But we don't have much time…. So instead of telling me what I already know, tell me what I can do to help you."

"Like what?"

"Like the best access to the palace. You have been sneaking in and out of the palace stealthily the last year. What’s the best access? Why can't you scale the wall to get through?"

Re-channelling the emotional overtones of their conversation seems to have worked on Cheoljong because his eyes turn clear, bright, calculating. She can almost see the clarity of his thoughts.

"Access points will be monitored. The palace will be crawling with soldiers, monitoring every corner. They will not be taking any chances. So we either hide in plain sight, or…we’ll need some type of misdirection."

"Misdirection?" she repeats, her mind beginning to churn ideas.

“Yes, misdirection.” 

Their conversation is interrupted by Hong, Dae Ho and Yeongpyeong, and finally, Sang Jo, crossing the entrance to the hideaway.  

“You’re here,” Cheoljong says, turning away from So Yong to greet his men. 

“We ran into Sang Jo earlier.” Hong says in answer. “It was rather fortuitous.” 

Hong's gaze lands on the loosened strings on Cheoljong's clothes. He arches an eyebrow as he looks at So Yong, then back at Cheoljong, glancing meaningfully back and forth between the two of them. A sly grin spreads across his face. 

If Dae Ho, Sang Jo or Yeongpyeong also notice the cut strings of Cheoljong's clothes, they don't say. Embarrassed, heat creeps up So Yong's cheeks as though she's been caught doing deeds of ill-repute.

"I was showing her how to throw knives," Cheoljong says smoothly but he looks annoyed. 

"Knives huh?" Hong says chuckling. His face says he doesn't believe a word Cheoljong just said.

It occurs to So Yong that Hong takes pleasure in ribbing Cheoljong way too much, but after recovering from her initial embarrassment, she chuckles too. 

“Your Majesty. Your Highness,” greets Sang Jo, bowing as he does. 

Cheoljong motions everyone to sit on the logs around the tinder bed. "We were expecting you yesterday, Sang Jo." 

“I have been held up.”

“What happened?” Cheoljong asks as he lowers himself onto one of the overturned logs. 

“Someone was tailing me. I don't know where he started following me so I made a few evasive maneuvers. I could not risk leading them here.”

"That's good," says Yeongpyeong as he sits too. "Did you find out anything useful?"

Sang Jo repeats the same information that Dae Ho gave them the night before but he adds, "Hyuk Ju went back to the palace. I suspect whatever information I know, he knows it too."

Dae Ho picks up a pebble from the ground and throws it into the tinder bed. “They will try to stop that meeting."

Yeongpyeong’s eyes cut to Cheoljong, who straightens up, not in agitation but in attention.  “Then we must be at the camp before they find it.” 

Hong scowls at the ground. "They set this up well. If they find you at that camp, they will call you a traitor to the country, Your Majesty."

“It gives them legitimacy to enthrone a new king,” Yeongpyeong says, crossing his arms across his chest. 

"Another incentive for them to come after you,” Hong interjects, eyeing Cheoljong, the scowl still on his face. “If…. if they succeed, they will blame your death on the farmers, and call it a rebellion."

Yeongpyeong stares at something on the ground as if he's deep in thought. "Byeong In planned this  well." 

"That scheming reprobate!" Hong bursts out.

“It is imperative that we convince the farmers to be on our side. It is your biggest chance of returning to the palace, Your Majesty,” Dae Ho chimes in, his voice firm but with a hint of weariness.

Hong draws a deep breath. "Even so, we can’t just knock… we need a way to sneak you in. The element of surprise might be our biggest advantage."

So Yong is listening to their discussion quietly, her mind churning, searching for some ingenious idea to smuggle Cheoljong in. She cannot very well just order guards to open the palace gates for him– she doesn’t have that influence. Less so with Cheoljong in exile.

And then she remembers the banquet, and how the gifts transported by the consorts' clans saved it. "How is fresh produce supplied to the kitchen?" 

All five men turn their heads, gaping at So Yong, startled by her seemingly ill-timed question about the palace’s fruits and vegetable supply. 

Hong replies first. "There's a daily delivery of goods. All perishables arrive in the morning." 

"Which essentially means that not every access to the palace is closed," she says.

Cheoljong catches on, accurately reading the direction of her thoughts. "That’s correct. But everything will be inspected. Thoroughly. Any delivery that arrives out of schedule would arouse suspicion."

Yeongpyeong knits his brows. "We cannot simply walk into that entrance.”

“No. No you can’t,” she agrees. “But it’s a low risk access, which means that while it’s guarded, they won’t be assigning experienced guards… At the most, there will be two or three soldiers guarding it.”

“Are you suggesting we take on three guards? It’s too risky… we cannot call attention to ourselves,” Yeongpyeong asks sounding more curious and less condescending this time. 

“No. That is not what I’m suggesting,” So Yong shakes her head. “We will give the guards a reason to look the other way so you can sneak in.”

“Then how?”

So Yong looks at Cheoljong sidelong, using his own words. "Misdirection."

"How exactly do we 'misdirect' the guards?” Yeongpyeong says, and while she’s absorbing the comment, he makes another. “They will recognize us in an instant.”

"You won't. I will distract them. I am going back to the palace… and I will find a way to do it," she offers, bracing for Cheoljong’s rebuke. This time, he is quiet, his eyes darting across the space in front of him, as if searching for the right words to reject her idea once more.

Hong regards her with incredulity. "But Your Highness, you don't even know your way back to the palace."

"I have a plan for that." So Yong keeps her thoughts to herself. She's not going back to the palace alone– not when there's someone in the palace who always seems to find her. 

She feels Cheoljong tense beside her. "I'm not leaving you here alone," he declares.

It appears that they have reached an impasse, the conversation shriveling to silence, long and heavy. Yeongpyeong looks as if he wants to argue the matter with Cheoljong but he keeps his mouth shut. Both Sang Jo and Dae Ho suddenly look busy clearing the tinder bed. 

"I will stay with Her Highness," comes Hong's quiet voice. 

Yeongpyeong gapes at Hong, but says nothing. Dae Ho and Sang Jo look just as bewildered, but otherwise remain quiet.

Cheoljong looks at Hong for a long moment, eyes grateful. So Yong recognizes the wordless conversation between them, as though they have discussed it at length previously.

"No," she declines swiftly. Her safe return to the palace should not be foisted on Hong. "Your job, Director Hong, is to protect His Majesty. Not me. Besides, nothing good awaits you at the palace. It is too dangerous."

Cheoljong leans forward, holding her gaze, almost daring her to argue. “It is my condition. If you are keen to go back to the palace, then Director Hong will be escorting you.”

“He will be executed!” So Yong protests, suddenly more afraid for Hong than for herself. The Dowager Queen’s wrath will demand someone to punish… and Hong just presented himself to be the perfect target. 

Cheoljong’s mouth is set in a hard line. "Let's talk about that later. For now we have to decide on a few other things."

So Yong swallows her remaining protests, as they continue to discuss the details of their journey to the camp. 

"I will find a way to send a message to you,” Cheoljong tells her later, “So you know when to expect us." There is an air of suspicious calm about him that makes So Yong wonder. 

"You must return to the palace quickly.” Hong says, his voice weary. “The Dowager Queen will be keen to announce a new king. She's been idle too long." So Yong hears the trepidation just underneath Hong’s tone. He, at least, knows that the Dowager Queen’s idle hands are the devil’s playthings. 

They continue to talk about strategy, and So Yong is surprised by how quickly Cheoljong redirects the conversation about her return to the palace. He would not have glossed over the topic of Hong escorting her back if he has not made alternative plans. She has the sneaking suspicion that Cheoljong is hiding something from her. 

She tunes back into the conversation while she starts planning in her head. 

She has one goal: To distract a few guards while under the watchful scrutiny of Byeong In's soldiers– without recourse or resource. 

Easy.

__

“What brings you back here?” comes Byeong In’s question. He is annoyed at being sidelined for the day. 

The mid-day light filters in through the papered walls of his room. He should not be in his private residence at this time of day, but he needs a little privacy. 

Hyuk Ju, Kim Chang Hyuk’s son and Byeong In’s good friend pours liquid into his cup. “It is good seeing you too,” he replies sarcastically. “Is that how you greet a friend?”

“Why don’t you just tell me why you’re back so soon, Hyuk Ju,” Byeong In snaps.

“We have a problem with the… rebels.”

“Rebels ?” he repeats, annoyed by the word. “Did you lose control of the situation?”

“No! Yes. I think they are on their way here.”

“What does that mean?” he asks. He is at the end of his rope. He needs to be back in his office and monitor the situation. He is so close to finishing what he started.

“I suspect they’re angling for a meeting with His Majesty.”

Byeong In snorts. “What for?” What can the king do? He's no longer in the palace."

“They could be a problem for us,” Hyuk Ju replies evenly, tossing the cup and finishing the contents in a single gulp.

“They don’t have enough men. Even if they do, they’re not soldiers. They're untrained, easy to crush.”

“Even so. We should look into it.”

“Where’s the meeting?”  

Hyuk Ju rises to his feet and saunters towards a large map laid out in one corner of Byeong In’s room. He looks at the map, his index finger tracing the illustrated terrain. His finger pauses when he finds what he’s looking for.  “Somewhere here,” he circles an area with his finger. “There’s a clandestine encampment in this area.”

Byeong In stands and walks closer. He looks at the map. “That’s about three days from here.” It occurs to him that perhaps the king and a few of his men are already on their way there. But their journey is slow. So Yong is not cut out for such travel. He knows the king will not leave her behind, not when So Yong carries his child. He feels a stab of pain knowing she had to put up with the tricky journey from the palace into the mountains. 

“No. If we cut through here,” he points at an area on the map, “By the river, we can shorten the journey by at least a day.” 

Byeong In stares at the map. “We should take that route.”

“We?” 

“Yes, we.” His smirk turns sinister. He finally has the king cornered.

__

The day wears on so quickly that it is dusk once more, and Cheoljong’s anxiety swells. In a few hours, he, along with Yeongpyeong, Sang Jo and Dae Ho will be traveling to the camp while So Yong will be left at the hideaway. He had given Hong a few instructions earlier, grateful for his decision to remain behind. 

“Stay for a few more days at the hideaway, in case the situation changes,” he told Hong earlier. He’s trying to minimize the time for which So Yong is without his protection at the palace. Based on his quick calculation, he assumed he would be back in a few days. 

In his periphery, he can see So Yong sitting on a long log, close to the fire. He longs to spend the last few hours of the day with her, but he has a lot more to discuss with Hong, Yeongpyeong, Dae Ho and Sang Jo. They are huddled next to the cottage, taking advantage of the last rays of the sun. 

Using a dried twig, Hong draws a few squares on the ground, as though he’s sketching the schematics of their plan. “You must draw their attention here,” he says, instructing them. “Make sure they concentrate all their attention on this entrance, while His Majesty makes his way to Seonjeongjeon.”

The five of them are pouring over the finer details of their plan, but Cheoljong’s mind strays elsewhere. 

His purpose has been easy at first– to bring the clan that murdered his family to ruin. "The queen is the core of the Kim clan," Yeongpyeong kept reminding him, as though he knew he would deviate from his path. "We start with her, and we bring their clan on their knees."

Things had fallen into place perfectly. 

Except … 

Except.

So Yong is not like the rest of her clan– a blue jay among crows. And Cheoljong always had a feeling– a nagging, persistent unease– that So Yong would be his undoing. But he forged ahead. Tempted fate. As though he has the inexplicable compulsion to suffer her suffering. Bear her burdens. 

But she is worse. Much worse. She broke rules, spurned palace norms and worse of all, she reveled at breaking them. And he watched her. Indulged her impulses and ingenuity. Because, why not? Her errant heart, as she described it, simply mirrors his own. 

And that is how he finds himself outside the palace, his regency under threat, and on the brink of losing So Yong, the woman for whom he would risk anything and everything. 

He steals a glance at her, sitting by the fire, rubbing her hands together.  Cheoljong watches as she coaxes the flames. The fire flares crimson. Undaunted, she stares at the fire, her form obscured by the blazing brightness in front of her.

Then the flames sway with the breeze. Her face glows in the golden firelight, and he could not help but think that the fire dances at her bidding. 

Her tenacity is maddening. 

And it occurs to him that if anyone could find him a way back to the palace, it would be So Yong. 

We do what we must. Cheoljong repeats So Yong's words to himself. 

He tunes out the conversation around him and instead stares at So Yong. Look at me , he finds himself thinking, silently imploring So Yong. Look at me.

She turns her head from the fire then fixes her dark eyes on him. She smiles. 

—

So Yong stares at the flames, dancing gracefully in front of her. She can hear the muffled conversation between Cheoljong and his men, but she ignores them, determined to clear her mind. The orange-red flames soothe her. 

She feels before she sees Cheoljong sit next to her on the log. Without much thought she lets her head drop onto his shoulder. He tucks her into his side, snuggling her in. For a while they sit quietly, staring at the embers until Cheoljong breaks the silence.

"So Yong-ah." He says her name like pain and prayer as though what he’s about to say would hurt and heal in the same breath. 

So Yong waits for the words, but he says nothing more, only her name. He doesn't have to. She knows what he's going to say. He's finally going to let her go.  She hears the triumph of her mind, but it reduces her heart to silence. 

“If I am selfish, I will not let you go,” he murmurs. The brokenness of his voice breaks So Yong, but she holds the pieces of herself together.

“But you are not selfish.”

"No, I am not.” She feels his jaw, next to her forehead, move as though he's shaking his head. So Yong shuts her eyes, willing for sleep to take her  and offer her refuge until the day Cheoljong is back safely.

"What time do you have to go?" She's amazed that her voice doesn’t tremble.

"Early," is all he says, which means that by this time tomorrow, she’d be confined within the palace walls, sleeping in silk, while he shivers beneath the stars. 

“We will never part again after this,” he whispers. “I will find the quickest way back to you.” The words are spoken like a promise. 

Such pronouncements are luxuries in the world they live in, but So Yong not only chooses to believe them, she makes one of her own. “I.. We will wait for nothing else."

For a long time, there is nothing but incandescent sparks and the crackle of fire. She feels the weight of exhaustion and her bones ache for sleep, but she makes no effort to move, desperate to prolong the moment.  

Somehow, she must have drifted off because a little later she is roused by the sensation of being lifted. She recognizes Cheoljong and throws her arms around him, burying her head against his shoulder.

She soaks up the comfort he offers and pretends that she’d wake up next to him in the morning. That he’d tell her he needs to go because he’s meeting his ministers early, but he'd stall just a little. Just enough to kiss her temple, his lips dallying far longer than necessary. 

Pretending is good; it masks her fears.

She feels the swaying motion of being carried back to the cottage and settled onto the hard makeshift bed. A thick blanket is drawn up to her chin. She hears a satisfied sigh and wonders if it is hers or Cheoljong’s. 

She feels him lie next to her, long and lean; her beacon in a world gone dark. She breathes him in and burrows into his chest. 

On the brink of sleep, when awareness blurs into the subconscious, she feels Cheoljong's lips against her ear, a caressing cold as he whispers something. She doesn't understand the words; she hears only the tenor of a promise, the sweetness of a vow. 

She doesn't know whether minutes or hours have passed, just that later, she feels him move again, the weight of an arm over her shoulder, drawing her closer to him. She wonders if it is daybreak, and she waits for him to get up, to nudge her and say goodbye. But he’s still, and she can feel the weight of his eyes on her face.

She wonders if she’s dreaming, but she’s aware of the exact moment his lips meet hers— soft, light, a whisper of a touch. It is so quick that she decides it’s a dream. She sighs and lets sleep claim her once more.

When she opens her eyes later, she is alone and the bed is cold. A sliver of sunlight filters through the narrow window.

The sound of hoofbeats followed by a flurry of heavy footfalls jolts her. Cheoljong's leaving, she realizes. She throws the covers and bolts from the bed. She sprints outside hoping she’d catch him in time to see him off. 

But outside, there is no sign of Cheoljong. Or Yeongpyeong. Neither is there a San Jo nor a Dae Ho. She is greeted by the jarring sight of a dozen or so soldiers in their black and dark crimson ensemble. Her panic turns to terror. 

She then sees Hong right outside the cottage– the sharp tip of a sword, glinting in the morning sun, pointing towards his neck. 

Her gaze lifts and meets the familiar eyes of the soldier pointing the sword at Hong.

Byeong In has found her. 

Chapter Text

Cheoljong’s mount skips over a fallen log and lands into a pile of leaves in varying shades of brown– buff, russet, umber, beige.  He hears the sound of crunching leaves as the horses go on full trot. 

The four of them–Cheoljong, Yeongpyeong, Sang Jo and Dae Ho– ride through a winding path in the forest, cutting through frost-covered brush. They’ve been riding for hours, pushing their horses onward without rest as the landscape changes from the hills and grassy knolls around the hideaway, to steep and narrow passages that force them to slow the horses to a walk so they can weave their way through  branches and brambles.

His eyes dart around and see nothing but spindly trees that have lost their autumn splendor, branches gray with the coming winter. Even so, the forest is dense, with gnarly roots jutting out from the ground. He can feel the cold chasing him, the air a relentless rime of frost around him. 

As the morning wears on, the sky becomes crisp blue with patches of white and gray.

Dae Ho leads them, solid and watchful. Sang Jo falls back, while Yeongpyeong's horse matches his stride. Cheoljong faces forward stiffly, careful not to look back, afraid he might turn around and rush back to the hideaway– to So Yong. 

When he closes his eyes briefly, a memory of So Yong flits through his mind, burning through his vision.  She expected him to say goodbye, but he was a coward. If he sees her put on a brave face once more, like she did the night before, he'd never leave. Her wan smile is burned into his memory. He recognized her effort to assure him she’s alright, her eyes wracked by sorrow, the same sorrow that tore through him. So at daybreak, broken and bleary-eyed, he kissed her and left.

Cheoljong had once made a vow to redeem himself, not in speech, but in deeds. To offer So Yong the sincerest of promises and the grandest of gestures. He tells himself that leaving her behind is exactly that– a sincere promise and a grand gesture. To walk away from everything with a promise to return and defeat both the Jo and Kim clans– the blight that ruins his country from within. So he can keep his family safe. So his child would grow up in a better world.

Dae Ho comes to a stop at the top of a ridge and looks over his shoulder. He gestures to his right, to where they hear the faint burble of the river. “This route should be shorter.”

Cheoljong shields his eyes against the sun. “This will take us to the camp?” 

Dae Ho nods. “Yes it is. But this part of the road is also the most dangerous by far.” 

Cheoljong understands why. The path is narrow, uneven, with the mountain on one side, and a ravine on the other. 

“We must be careful,” Cheoljong hears Sang Ko from behind. “The road is shorter, but there are plenty of bottlenecks. There's also the threat of landslides.”

Bottlenecks. Cheoljong knows what that implies: ambush. 

Sang Jo steers his horse closer and points vaguely in the distance. “There’s a rocky outcropping about an hour from here. We should stop there and give the horses some rest. If everything goes to plan, we should be at the camp by nightfall.” 

"That's good." 

Cheoljong wavers between relief that So Yong doesn't have to journey through the dangerous terrain, and worry over her welfare. The queen is brave, but she is also defiant and impetuous; qualities that could easily get her into trouble in the palace. 

He wonders if courage is enough. It is a language they could both understand, and hers never faltered. Neither did her loyalty to him, and that is perhaps the most difficult thing of all. Because in spite of his desperation to take his throne back, he, too, feels loyalty—to So Yong– who is left vulnerable, and so willing to risk her life, with nothing to hold on to, but her hope for his return.

His thoughts are interrupted when Dae Ho stops abruptly. Cheoljong cranes his neck to get a better look. His heart sinks when he sees the trail completely buried. 

"It looks like a landslide," Dae Ho says. "We need to go around it."

At first, Yeongpyeong falls silent, deep in thought, then asks, "What does that mean for our journey?"

"It means that it'll take us two days instead of one," Sang Jo says from behind. 

Dae Ho nudges his horse to move. "We'll need to find some place to camp for the night and resume our journey at daybreak." 

There is no dearth of misfortunes in Cheoljong's mind: landslide, ambush, getting lost in the wilderness. 

“We must make haste,” he says grimly. 

Once more, his thoughts gravitate towards So Yong. He tries not to think of the many things that could go wrong. Is she safe? Will she make it back to the palace? Who will come for her if something happens?

On the heels of his last thought comes another even worse: What if her clan is no longer after him, but his unborn child? 

What if Byeong In's plans to hunt him down is just a distraction… a ploy by her own clan to lure So Yong in?

–

Soldiers surround all corners of the hideaway, making escape impossible– not that So Yong is planning to. Some stand in the same rigid and watchful position, while others move with imperious precision.

“Tell me where His Majesty is,” Byeong In snarls as he holds the tip of the sword against Hong's throat. 

So Yong watches the scene in abject horror. For a while, she's paralyzed with fear, but eventually, she casts it aside and takes a step down the cottage towards Byeong In. 

"What are you doing here, Byeong In? And why are you pointing a sword at Director Hong?" She asks, unsure what to do exactly, except to prevent Byeong In from killing Hong. 

"Where is His Majesty, Your Highness?" His voice echoes across the hideaway, more menacing than So Yong has ever heard before.

There, in the middle of the forest, without Cheoljong's protection, it’s all too easy to remember that Byeong In is one of the most skilled soldiers of Joseon. He is intelligent, vigilant, and ruthless. Would it have been too naive to think she could deceive him?

"What do you mean, 'where is his Majesty'?" She asks, being deliberately obtuse, showing steel she doesn't feel. She scans the hideaway one more time, as if to assure herself that Cheoljong and his men have, in fact, managed to escape. 

"His Majesty left early, where did he go?" Byeong In speaks slowly as though he's enunciating every word, patience stretched thin.

Hong shoots So Yong a nervous glance.

She chooses her next words with care. "His Majesty left to gather firewood."

 Byeong In's face twists in disdain before the words come out. "Firewood?"

So Yong gives him an icy smile. "It's cold. It's for the fire." 

"You expect me to believe that His Majesty would leave you to gather firewood?"

"I expect you to put down the sword. And stop threatening Director Hong," she replies with equal condescension. "Pick someone your own size, Byeong In. Don't embarrass yourself."

Hong sends her a pleading look as though he’s begging her not to antagonize Byeong In further. She ignores Hong. Time wasted by Byeong In questioning her, is time gifted to Cheoljong and his men. 

Byeong In lowers his sword. In her periphery, she can see Hong breathe a sigh of relief. 

Byeong In sheaths his sword and turns his full attention to So Yong. "If His Majesty is on his way to meet the rebels, you had better tell me. We need to stop him before he does something treasonous."

"Rebels?" She repeats incredulously. The deliberate change in label from 'farmers' and 'herb gatherers' to 'rebels', isn't lost on So Yong. Byeong In is distorting perception. "Are these your new scare tactics, Byeong In– accusing His Majesty of treason?"

"I am trying to protect His Majesty from making a mistake." He replies patiently, like he's talking to a child. But So Yong's ears hear only the patronizing overtone. "It's hardly treason. So just tell me where he is.”

"What makes you think he's meeting the rebels?” A frosty breeze stirs up strands of hair that have escaped So Yong's braid. She tucks them behind her ear. “Like I said, he's out gathering firewood."

"You will forgive me, Your Highness, if I do not believe you."

So Yong shoots a scathing glare in his direction. “It is hardly my business to persuade you, Byeong In. Believe what you want.”

"His Majesty has not been seen for a few days. Do you know how dangerous that is for him, for this country.. For you ? He should have told his ministers where he is!" 

So Yong suppresses the urge to laugh at Byeong In's attempt to twist truths and peddle stories to fit his agenda. A skill, that she too, is in possession of– storytelling– or in the current case, truth telling. Truth is always a matter of perspective, plausible only if told with a spectacle. "That's a good story, Byeong In. If you keep repeating it, you might believe it."

This annoys Byeong In even more. "The king should not be so careless. He should inform his guards, his ministers, of his whereabouts!"

"The last time I checked, a king doesn't report to his ministers. Or to you."

Byeong In steps closer to So Yong, using his height advantage to intimidate her. She fights the urge to step back, and for a moment, she wonders if he would resort to force. 

At the corner of her eye, she can see Hong shooting her a pleading look, asking her to stop angering Byeong In further.

Time will tell if she's brave or brash, but So Yong tips her chin and responds to Byeon In's glare with one of her own.

So Yong may have felt sisterly affection for him once. But it is Byeong In who issued the cold-blooded order to murder the king. A line has been drawn and she will not back down. 

To her surprise, Byeong In’s expression softens. “Why are you doing this to yourself, Your Highness? Just tell me where His Majesty is.”

“I do not answer to you, Byeong In,” she replies, matching his soft tone. “I answer to His Majesty, no one else.” 

"Then you are coming back with me to the palace," he says, before issuing a wordless command to his soldiers.

For a moment, So Yong feels relieved. Byeong In escorting her back to the palace plays into her plan perfectly. It would seem less suspicious than walking into the palace, without the king, and accompanied only by Hong.

But her relief is short-lived. Two nondescript soldiers, in full Joseon army livery, flank So Yong. One soldier takes hold of her shoulder, and So Yong reaches up to smack his hand away. When she does, he grasps her wrist tightly. The other soldier grabs one of So Yong’s arms and they start to physically push her forward. 

“Don’t—touch me!”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Hong yells as two soldiers drag him in the same manner. “That’s the queen, and she’s carrying the king’s child. Unhand her immediately!” 

So Yong shoots Hong a meaningful look, pleading him not to do anything. Or he will pay the price with his life. 

For a moment Byeong In ignores them. Sensing the futility of her actions, So Yong stops struggling and decides to bear the humiliation. She looks at each of the soldiers’ faces and commits them to memory. She makes a quiet vow to deal with them in the most inventive of ways when the time comes. And she will take pleasure in it.

She shoots another glare down Byeong In’s direction, taunting him.“Is this how you intend to keep me safe?"

After a while, he motions for his soldiers to back off, and they unhand her and Hong. 

So Yong feels for the dagger she hides under her clothes, reassuring herself that it’s still there. Hong's eyes widen in horror. He shakes his head ever so subtly, as though he's admonishing her. She nods just as subtly in return, assuring him. She may be outraged at being manhandled, but she's not stupid.

“What about His Majesty? He couldn't have gone far,” a new voice asks, the sycophantic drawl grating on So Yong’s ears. She looks over her shoulder and sees Kim Hyuk Ju.

She looks at Kim Chang Hyuk's son in disgust. If one day, Cheoljong starts beheading those who plotted against him, she will make sure that Kim Hyuk Ju's head is first on the chopping block.

Byeong In looks at the cottage, then at the surrounding forest, his mouth set in a hard line. “Take half of the soldiers with you. Find him.”

–

“Your Highness!” greets Lady Choi emphatically, looking both relieved and rattled at her disheveled appearance. “We have been so worried about you." The concern on her face turns to grimace when she catches sight of Byeong In following So Yong. The grimace disappears almost instantly.

Hong Yeon’s expression mirrors Lady Choi's, making So Yong suddenly feel guilty. She put them through so much misery the last few days.

“I’m glad you’re back safely!” her maid exclaims.

It is late afternoon when they make it back to the palace, and the hallways of Daejojeon are lit with the fading yellow of the afternoon, the shadows of the latticed walls rendered gray.

“Must you follow me all the way here Byeong In?” So Yong snaps, glaring at Byeong In and two of his soldiers. 

Byeong In ignores her and instead speaks to Lady Choi. “Please make sure Her Highness is presentable. She needs to be at Tongmyeongjeon. The Dowager Queen is waiting for her.” 

It irks So Yong that Lady Choi needs to be asked to make her presentable. “It is not your responsibility to do that, Byeong In. And I am exhausted, I do not wish to go to Tongmyeongjeon.” She turns on her heel and enters her chambers.

Byeong In follows her inside. “Think carefully before refusing a direct order from the Dowager Queen, Your Highness."

Hong Yeon and Lady Choi, who are following Byeong In closely behind, look at So Yong, almost in fear. "Her Highness is pregnant, perhaps, you could give her some time to rest first," appeals Lady Choi. 

Byeong In is quiet, the seconds ticking by, as he weighs the court lady's words. Eventually, he nods then gestures for Lady Choi and Hong Yeon to give them privacy. After they leave, So Yong and Byeong In stand face to face in the middle of the antechamber. 

When Byeong In speaks again, his words aren't meant as a threat, but So Yong can glean the echo of one. It speaks volumes of whatever scheme he and the old crone of a Dowager Queen hatched. “I need you to beg for forgiveness and swear fealty to the dowager queen," he intones.

So Yong glares at Byeong In. She is no one’s plaything. “No.”

“Your Highness, please do not give our clan more reason to doubt you... to target you.” Byeong In warns. “Swallow your pride.”

“I’m not you.”

Byeong In flinches as if slapped, but his expression smooths instantly. “Think about your safety, and your child’s.”

“My safety is not your concern,” So Yong retorts. 

“Then I think you should remain in Daejojeon for the foreseeable future. When the danger from the rebels is past, and we have ascertained His Majesty’s location, we can consider allowing you more freedom. Until then, you are confined to these halls.”

So Yong stares at Byeong In in shock, grappling with the meaning of his words. How is she supposed to find Cheoljong a way back to the palace if her movements are limited?   “You’re… You’re locking me up at Daejojeon?"

“We could be under attack soon. It is dangerous to be outside,” Byeong In replies smoothly. “Especially when His Majesty is possibly taken by rebels.”

So Yong glances at the papered walls, admiring the uniformity of the wooden lattices, giving the impression that one is ensconced in a lovely, intricately designed space.

Or held captive.

“You and I know His Majesty is not taken by anyone. You engineered this whole thing, so don’t pretend like you’re trying to protect me.. Or His Majesty.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, but I can assure I would not wish you any harm. But if anything happens to His Majesty, you know you can count on me for anything…"

It takes all of So Yong not to cringe at Byeong In’s carefully worded statement, at his continued pretense. She's a cup full of anger, filled to the brim, on the brink of spilling.  “What would happen to His Majesty exactly, Byeon In?”

He backpedals immediately. Smoothly. “I meant only that with His Majesty’s current location unknown to us all, we can only hope that he is safe, and that we all wait for his immediate return.”

“I’m sure you do," So Yong mutters, unable to resist the urge to add something snide. "I imagine that an orphan, such as yourself, would never wish for my child— any child— to grow up, not knowing their father. You can relate to that… of course.”

“Of course,” he repeats, his face not betraying anything. “But if His Majesty is proven to have betrayed our country, then he should be held accountable for it.”

“I should say the same for you,” So Yong hits back. “You would never do anything to harm His Majesty, would you?”

“His Majesty may have aligned himself with very dangerous people. You should be careful with what you say from now on. You could be dragged down with him,” he warns, stepping closer. “If you continue down this path, you will lose.”

“I don’t always have to win. Byeong In,” So Yong replies softly, suddenly feeling spent. “I just have to make sure we all lose."

Her words seem to have an effect on him, his calm demeanor cracking. “That kind of thinking is reckless. Look at where it got him.” 

“Where it got him ?” So Yong echoes, her tone dripping with scorn. “A brave king will find a way to save his people, even when the odds are stacked against him. A coward will be content to prostrate himself to lesser minds. Which is why the king is in the mountains forging his own path, and you are here.. Swallowing your pride .”

“And yet he left you, alone .” Byeong shoots back in equal contempt. “You have no one left but your clan.”

“Oh but I am not alone,” she retorts. As if on instinct, So Yong’s arms curl protectively over her belly. 

“All the more reason for you to swallow your pride. You are out of your depth.” His words are clipped and caustic. He pauses dramatically before adding a belated, “Your Highness.”

His words make So Yong feel like a young silly girl, like when she disguised herself and coerced the ministers to sign a treasonous confession. She felt brave and clever, only to be later cornered by Byeong In, and rescued by Cheoljong.

Perhaps, she is too arrogant in her intelligence– as though the sharpness of her intellect gave her considerable latitude to act without thought.  It humbles So Yong to realize that perhaps she shares Byeong In’s biggest affliction– hubris.

Gazing up at the arrogant countenance of Byeong In, the face of another flashes across her mind: a man in black, with brown asymmetrical eyes. A man who understands vengeance and vindication in a way fools like Byeong In could not even begin to comprehend. The same man who agreed to her plan to go back to the palace because he believes in her courage. In her cunning. 

And courage requires humility, while cunning dictates she must  stop antagonizing Byeong In. She needs to, if she wants some semblance of freedom.

We do what we must.

The thought grounds her.  

Restores her calm. 

Reminds her of her purpose.

Chastened by her own thoughts, So Yong shifts from vindictive to vulnerable, forcing her voice to sound small. Defeated. “Byeong In, am I a criminal to be treated with such hostility?”

For a moment, he looks torn, shifting uncomfortably at her tone, and she wonders if the old Byeong In is back– the one who cared about her. The one who recognized right and wrong. 

“Your Highness…”  Byeong In is quiet for a while, and then: “One day you will understand, and thank me for all these.”

So Yong resists the urge to roll her eyes at Byeong In’s deluded sense of self-importance. But she can feel him thawing, so she decides to grab the opportunity.  She summons a look of despair and reaches for his hand, her grasp tentative. 

At the touch of his skin to hers, every part of So Yong’s body screams in silent horror, as though she’s betraying Cheoljong. Her skin yearns for rebellion but she soldiers on. “Why are you making it more difficult for me? You can help me.” 

Byeong In grasps her hands back. “So Yong-ah, I cannot help you if you continue to defy Queen Sunwon, or our clan. Please, you must swallow your pride.”

“Do you really think this is right? What do you have to gain from doing all these…? Please, think it through. You can help me set things right.”

For a moment, Byeong In’s eyes turn kind, but then he says, “This is the right thing. You must return to our clan. Your devotion to the king will only bring you harm. He is poison.” 

Poison?  The word makes So Yong ball her fists in outrage. But when she meets Byeong In's gaze, she is careful to keep her expression torn, pained, hurt. In her heart is a vow so loud she wonders if he could hear it. She will break him like nothing else has broken him before.

She summons a look of acquiescence, and out loud, she says, “I’ll go to Tongmyeongjeon.”

Byeong In breathes a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re back, So Yong-ah. Eventually, things will go back to the way they used to be”  With that, he spins on his heel and marches towards the door.

It is exactly what So Yong fears.

She glowers at Byeong In's retreating back, speaking once more, her voice crisp and clear.  “If you refuse to be my ally, you will regret being my enemy.”

–

Fresh from a bath, the first thing that So Yong sees, as she enters her bedchamber, is the pillow she stole from Cheoljong. It lies atop her beddings, calling her, beckoning for her to crawl under the covers.

She grabs the pillow; it still smells like him. She hugs it to her chest, breathing in his scent. It reminds her of that day in the summer house.

“You’re still not getting your pillow back,” she quipped.

His answering laughter rumbled through his chest. It reverberated through her body in a deliciously intimate way. 

“Never let it be said that I am a king possessive of his… pillows.”

A sob builds deep inside her, one that she is forced to swallow. It is not the time to weep, or to be weak , she scolds herself. But her tears are relentless. When she lies down, she hugs the pillow tightly, allowing herself a moment of weakness. She falls asleep sobbing into Cheoljong's pillow. 

Her nap is interrupted by Lady Choi announcing her father. She sits up slowly, forcing herself awake. Exhausted that she is, So Yong doesn't have the heart to turn away her own father.

"So Yong-ah, what happened to you?" Kim Mun Geun says later, enveloping So Yong in a warm fatherly embrace. "I was so worried!"

"I am alright, Father. His Majesty simply took me to the summer house," So Yong replies, reveling in the comfort of her father's presence. 

"They say His Majesty aligned himself with the rebels, and may have taken you with him!"

"Father, you know that's not true." So Yong says patiently as she sits down. She gestures for Kim Mun Geun to do the same. "There are no rebels, just people who want to be heard. People who want change. And His Majesty would never put his throne at risk."

Kim Mun Geun looks confused. "Then where is His Majesty?" 

"It is not safe for him to be back yet. There are... certain things he must look into first." So Yong wonders if she should burden her own father with her troubles. 

"So Yong-ah, tell me what's on your mind." Kim Mun Geun prods her, looking much older than his years, as though decades, and not days, have passed since his last visit. "You don't look well. Your eyes look like you've just finished crying."

So Yong tells him of Byeong In's plans, but she skips the part where Cheoljong is on his way to meet the rebels’ leaders. It is not because she doesn't trust her father. She wants to make sure her father can deny knowledge of the rebels if the situation escalates. "They want to get rid of His Majesty and enthrone a new one, father."

Shock colors Kim Mun Geun's face. "I cannot believe Byeong In is capable of murdering a king!" Then, in a more controlled voice, he adds, "Is that why you're back? Do you intend to stop our clan from appointing a new king?"

"I only wish to keep my child safe, father," she replies evasively.

"Ah. You often underestimate your father's capacity to understand you, So Yong-ah." Kim Mun Geun's expression turns pensive; his eyes the exact color of hers, are kind. "Your desire to protect your unborn child is as strong as my desire to protect mine…. I imagine that is something you would have understood by now."

"That is not my intention, I'm sorry." She amends immediately, ashamed at lying to her father. Her vision turns blurry from tears. "But I do not know what to do, father."

Kim Mun Geun leans forward and takes So Yong's hand, wrapping it in his. "My daughter, you may be able to deceive the dowager queen, Kim Jwa Geun, even Byeong In. But I am your father, and I know, with absolute certainty, that you're already plotting inside your head." 

So Yong stares at her father, torn between cunning and candor. Should she just tell her father everything?  

Kim Mun Geun smiles kindly. It reminds her of her childhood. Of old days when her father would admonish her for tagging along with Byeong In and Kim Hwan. Of times when he would treat her scraped knees. "My daughter, I admire your loyalty to His Majesty. But if you wish to help him, as I'm sure you have every intention of doing, you must first survive."

"Survive? What does that mean….? 

"Survive, my child. You can give away pieces of you, so long as you safeguard the most important parts of yourself– your heart, your child, His Majesty. You can swear allegiance to your enemies, even kiss their feet. What matters is that you guard yourself. And then plot your revenge. Like you once did."

Her father's soothing voice breaks So Yong, tears streaming down her face. "What can I do? They watch my every move. How could I even hope to help His Majesty, when I couldn't help myself?" She bites her lower lip, a poor attempt at keeping her tears at bay. "There is no one I can trust to help me."

"I am still here,” he says, his voice tight and fierce. 

"No. I cannot let you do that. They will hurt you, father." 

"Seeing you suffer hurts me more."

Her father’s words unleash something inside So Yong. "You would do that for His Majesty?" 

Kim Mun Geum smiles only. 

"Why?" 

"Restitution," Kim Mun Geun states simply.

“Father…”

“You must be so angry. I can imagine why, but I will help you.” Kim Mun Geun looks at So Yong, eyes filled with concern, as only a father can. “We will find a way. But my child, you cannot make yourself a target… Keep your head down. Right now, it is more important to live than to be livid.” 

–

Kim Byeong In is right behind So Yong when she enters Tongmyeongjeon. On the dais, in a yellow dangui is the dowager queen, while Kim Jwa Geun sits across from her. The older woman shoots her a withering glare as soon as she enters her private chambers, while Kim Jwa Geun, stripped by Cheoljong previously of his official livery, is dressed in a cobalt durumagi. He barely acknowledges So Yong’s presence.  

Why is Kim Jwa Geun back? So Yong wonders silently. 

She drops to her knees and greets the older woman as Byeong In does the same. Before she can utter a word, the older woman’s voice thunders across the room. “Does it bother you, being a traitor to your own kin?”

So Yong stays silent, deciding that there is nothing she could say to pacify the old woman.

“Make her talk, Byeong In,” the former queen demands.

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” she says meekly. 

Sunwon shoots her a scornful glance. “Be grateful, you are carrying His Majesty’s child.” There is an unspoken “or else” that catches So Yong’s attention, but her mind latches on to the mention of her unborn child. It terrifies her. Are they planning to use her child against her?

“Where is His Majesty?” Kim Jwa Geun asks without glancing at her. 

Still staring at the floor, So Yong wills herself to sound timid, letting her voice tremble slightly. “I’m afraid, I do not know.” 

“You and the king have been missing for a few days, and you do not know where he is?” 

“I have been under the weather recently. His Majesty thought I would need a few days outside the palace.”

“You are pregnant! Do you not realize how dangerous that is?” the Dowager Queen snaps at her. “ Your ignorance is boundless.” Beside her, Kim Jwa Geun is silent, his inscrutable countenance irking So Yong. 

“Her Highness–” Byeong In starts as if to defend her, but the Dowager Queen shoots him an icy stare, cold enough to freeze the lake. 

So Yong recoils at Byeong In’s attempt to defend her but she wonders if she can use that protectiveness against the three of them. 

She observes the dynamic among Sunwon, Kim Jwa Geun and Byeon In, trying to discreetly determine who's running the show. She arrives at the conclusion that all three of them think they're in charge. Which means that they all have their own personal agenda. Perhaps, she could drive a wedge between her clan’s elders and Byeong In, their star sentinel. 

“Where did His Majesty go, Your Highness? Don’t make me ask a third time.”  She is lost in her own thoughts that she barely hears Kim Jwa Geun address her once more. 

“I don’t know where His Majesty went. I only know that he and Yeongpyeong had an early morning errand.” She adds just a tiny bit of wobble to her voice.

“You don’t know?” The Dowager Queen scoffs. “Your subservience will not work on us anymore. I think we’ve already established that you are far too devious to be docile.”

The palace is not a place for sincerity and scruples, and So Yong is not always adept at wearing a mask clever enough to disguise her truths. But she has learned that sometimes, to conceal a lie, one must be willing to reveal a truth. Perhaps, if she admits just how much she cares for Cheoljong, as though she's a silly girl blinded by love, they’d mistake her deception for devotion.

“I trust His Majesty completely, Your Highness.” She pauses, as though there is a catch in her throat. “I do his bidding without question. So when he said he had an errand I did not ask what it was. I–"

“You’re a fool!” The Dowager Queen cuts in angrily. "Betraying your clan in exchange for affections from His Majesty? Did you not realize that he is using you?"

"Forgive me, Your Highness… but…" she stutters for good measure, and adds what she thinks one would say if she's truly a silly girl, "His Majesty… he cares for me. He's not what you think."

"You're not as innocent as you seem, Your Highness," Kim Jwa Geun interrupts with inflection-less malice. "The former consort said as much."

So Yong's mind scrambles for a clever reply. Another lie. A half-truth. But lies and truth are not at all different, both require showmanship. She makes her voice sound vicious, vengeful. "The consort is a menace. She spread so many lies about me… She even had the audacity to make a play for my position." 

Lies require truths, even ones that she had never dared to speak before. She lets her voice sound tiny and unrepentant all at once. "I will have Hwa Jin beheaded before someone from the Jo clan is chosen queen."

Revenge is a language they all speak so fluently. So is contempt for the Jo clan. She hopes her lies and half truths are enough. At least for now.

A non-committal "Hmmmm" is all Kim Ja Geun utters. 

“When did you last see His Majesty?” the Dowager Queen asks once more, her tone no longer spiteful, but it's nowhere near friendly either.

So Yong knows her voice needs to match the sorrow. She lets her shoulders fall in despair, grabs her skirt and balls her hands into fists, as though the thought of what she’s about to say next, destroys her completely. "He left…." She stammers for effect.  "He left.. without even saying goodbye. When… when I woke up in the morning, he's gone."

The tears come then. It isn't so difficult. But they are tears of frustration and fear, and not heartbreak.

"Alone?" Sunwon presses.

"No. He left with Prince Yeongpyeong." Just because she's being slightly truthful, doesn't mean she cannot omit certain truths. She doesn't mention either Sang Jo or Dae Ho. 

Kim Jwa Geun speaks once more. “I do not think the king left for an errand. He went somewhere. He met someone. You will tell me what it's about.”

She calculates and remembers Dae Ho's words about Byeong In's own spies within the ranks of the rebels. It is likely they already know what Cheoljong is up to, or they would not be so hellbent at extracting specific information from her. They were testing her. "His Majesty and Prince Yeongpyeong talked about meeting someone, as though they needed His Majesty's help, but I did not hear who it was exactly."

She hears Byeong In suck in breath. "Where?"

So Yong remembers Dae Ho talking about a shorter route to the camp. 

At a camp.. About a day’s trek from here. It could be faster on horseback but I cannot be certain… It’s up in the mountains, but there is a shorter path if we follow the river.

“I do not know.” She pretends to think about the details, shoring up the courage to lie again, and to lie well.. “But Prince Yeongpyeong says it’s somewhere up in the mountains, on the opposite side of the river. It’s a two-day trek from the hideaway.”

“How did they find out about this supposed meeting?” Byeong In chimes in once more.

Kim Jwa Geun’s eyes fixate on her, his gaze cold and penetrating. So Yong wonders if he can see right through her skin and discover her deception.  “You know, I do not like being lied to, Your Highness.”

Somewhere in her mind, fear takes over, and fear corrupts all her other thoughts. Fear makes her believe her lies and makes her commit to her ruse– young, lovelorn and guileless So Yong. "They didn’t talk about it. I… I didn’t ask. I trusted His Majesty enough to share only the details he deems important." 

“You disobeyed me, Your Highness,” Kim Ja Gweun drawls. So Yong expects to see wrath in his eyes, but she sees only the malevolence of triumph, and it baffles her as much as it frightens her. For if Kim Jwa Geun has triumphed on something she has yet to discern, then she has already lost. “You disobeyed me twice,” he repeats, emphasizing the word ‘twice.'

“I’m sorry,” she says as she lowers her head further, her fingers splayed on the floor. Groveling makes So Yong’s skin crawl for she has no illusion of getting back into the good graces of either Kim Jwa Geun or the Dowager Queen. But as her father said, it is more important to live than to be livid.

We do what we must.