Tying the Hwachim (1)

Ever since she had heard that story, Munhui had maintained an outward air of composure, but the princess had begun to gnaw at her thoughts.

She had to admit that she had taken the king's bait, hook, line, and sinker.

And only that very morning had come the news that His Majesty had emerged from the woman's chambers.

"You expect me to believe the king spent the whole night doing nothing more than clamping shackles on a woman's ankles?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Ilhwa flinched at the question Munhui tossed out so carelessly.

"Shackles on the feet of a woman he shared his bed with. What a vile taste he has."

"My lady…."

Ilhwa could do nothing but stand there, at a loss. The words her mistress had just spoken were ones Ilhwa herself had not dared to utter in front of her, and the shame of having forced them from her mistress's own lips weighed on her.

Ilhwa had served as Munhui's handmaiden her entire life, and though she revered her mistress, she had always held her at a certain distance, awed by her.

From childhood, Munhui had been celebrated far and wide for her beauty and brilliance. She was versed in every rule of etiquette, and her mastery of letters, painting, and instruments had astonished even her teachers. And yet she had never grown arrogant, never let her moods show, holding herself in perfect equanimity at all times. That very temperament lent her a certain gravity that kept people at arm's length.

Perhaps for that reason, Munhui had no intimate friends. But many wished to be like her, and they orbited her, admiring from afar. Even setting aside her standing as the prime minister's legitimate daughter, no one dared make an enemy of Yu Munhui — so it had seemed only natural that she would become queen.

The young king, Seon Wiyeon, owed a debt to the prime minister. He had studied under the man's tutelage, and it was thanks to him that he had ascended the throne unscathed. And yet he had hesitated to raise the minister's daughter, Munhui, to the position of queen, granting her nothing more than the rank of Noble Consort. Then he had never once shared her bed.

He had even, right before the conjugal ceremony the ministers had pressed upon him, slipped away to the battlefield in secret.

People said the young, hot-blooded king kept Yu Munhui at a distance out of a reckless boyish rebellion — a childish attempt to escape the prime minister's shadow. Surely, they said, no man could keep a beauty like Yu Munhui at arm's length forever.

But Ilhwa had noticed the restlessness her mistress was trying to conceal.

She herself had overheard the exchanges between the king and Munhui. The king was not cold toward her — he was indifferent. He addressed her as one might address a block of stone rather than a woman, and even his greetings carried not a mote of feeling.

And into the midst of all this, he had brought a princess of the enemy nation and spent a night with her. Even with the ministers howling for the princess's execution, all he had done was clamp her in shackles.

So when Munhui had just now pointed out the king's "vile taste," Ilhwa understood there was another meaning beneath it — though she could not fathom what it was.

"Those shackles were fastened for my sake."

"I… beg your pardon?"

"A warning not to lay hands carelessly on what belongs to the king."

"Th-that was merely to restrain her. She resisted violently last night and injured the palace maids. Why must you leap to such conclusions?"

"Precisely. A woman in shackles cannot thrash about at will. So if that woman — no, that precious princess — were to come to harm, would that not make it something *I* had ordered done?"

The princess cannot resist now. What pretext would anyone have to torment her?

"!"

Only then did Ilhwa grasp the meaning, and her face crumpled.

"It is unjust, my lady. You merely instructed me to look her over, and I only meant to wash her. She is the one who slandered me."

"Slandered you? You know it and I know it. There is no need to tremble before me. I know full well you are not the sort to simply look and come away untouched when I tell you to inspect someone. And it was I who sent you regardless."

"My lady!"

"I am not blaming you. How fortunate that His Majesty is not the sort of coward who merely runs away."

"Pardon?"

"Yield this time. Go and attend the princess with all care, and see that she is treated well."

She is not one to remain in this palace for long anyway.

"And tell my father I wish to see him."

Munhui returned to polishing the maple leaf. The crimson leaf was at the very height of its beauty now; with careful polishing it took on a deeper gloss, its color growing more vivid still. Soon enough the leaf would fall — this was its moment of fullest bloom.

They were not yesterday's spiteful creatures.

New palace maids entered and began to tidy the bed. When they stripped away the bedding stained red with the traces of the previous night's union, their expressions stiffened for just a moment. But they quickly laid out fresh covers as though they had seen nothing, and bathed Seoin's body for her.

From the moment they had entered, however, they behaved like mutes, not uttering a single word. Seoin, asking nothing in return, silently surrendered herself to their hands, and soon the only sound in the room was the loud rhythm of breathing.

Having eaten nothing for so long, Seoin felt dizziness wash over her as they dressed her and combed her hair. But she gave no sign of it. She doubted they would hand over food simply because she asked, and it seemed more likely to stir up trouble than anything else, so she resolved to endure.

Only when the grooming was done did a meal finally arrive. Moderately rich dishes, fresh vegetables, warm rice and soup — all laid out with a clean, simple elegance. The spread was better than she had expected, and she worried briefly that something might have been slipped into the food, but hunger won out and she ate. Fortunately it tasted fine, and nothing came of her fear.

And so a day passed. Then several, the routine repeating itself until it bordered on tedium. The only difference was that the palace maids changed every time.

The king did not come for her again, and no one tormented her.

With her belly full and her mind growing calmer, Seoin even considered snapping the shackles and running. But she soon abandoned the idea.

This, too, could be a test.

Her soldiers were still being held somewhere within the palace.

If only Saegwang were here by my side.

If she fled alone, they would all die. And in truth, she had no confidence she could escape with her life, either. The king had bound her loosely like this — but that only made him more meticulous. There were surely eyes watching her beyond this very door.

Be clever about it.

Taking his advice to heart, Seoin spent several days doing nothing at all. It was dull, yes, but she decided to rest deeply — to shake off the body worn down by days on a battlefield that drained the very blood from a person. And so Seoin fell asleep at every opportunity, at all hours.

The strange thing was that whether she slept by night or by day, she kept having the same dream, so that no amount of sleep ever felt like rest. The red marks of their union and the aching pain they had left were fading from her body — yet for some reason the dream replayed that day's events more vividly than ever. And not the pain of it, but her writhing in pleasure, craving the huge length of him.

More than once she woke in flustered haste from the wicked dream, cursing her own lewd heart.

Shameless thing.

Today, once again, she had drifted into a midday nap — and once again she was deep inside that very dream when—

Doom—.

"!"

In the very thick of her most embarrassing moment, the clamor shattered the dream to pieces.

Shouting? Drums?

The distant beat of war drums and roaring voices set the whole palace astir as if war had broken out — yet her immediate surroundings were quiet, as if nothing at all were happening.

The army has returned.

The victorious troops were being welcomed home in triumph. At the sound, the bitter sting of defeat — drowned for a while in ease and comfort — came flooding back.

That cheering had been bought with the blood of Danya's soldiers.

Her chest ached, guilt welled up in her, and at the same time the King of Danya filled her with resentment.

Because you abandoned me and my people and fled, the princess you left behind is worth nothing even as a hostage.

The cheers made her acutely aware of her own station, and Seoin resolved once more that at the very least, she must find some way to protect the people and soldiers who had survived.

Then a group of maids entered bearing rather lavish garments. Again they offered no explanation; they simply arranged her hair and applied her makeup.

When the long grooming was finally done, she saw in the mirror a familiar face she had not seen in an age. The lovely face reflected there was the one she had looked upon longer than any other in her life.

The hairstyle and dress differed somewhat from those of Danya, but the face — properly made up for a person of high rank and adorned with expensive ornaments — was that of the resplendent princess she had all but forgotten she was.

How long had it been since soft silk had wrapped her skin like this? Sitting here like this after so long, she felt something like her old spirit stirring back to life.

Yet one thing struck her as strange. She was caught in a desperate, dangerous situation where she could not know whether she would live out even this single day — and yet her expression now was nowhere near as wretched as it had been back then.

Is it because I lived as hard as I wished, on my own terms? Or because I've done everything anyone could ever try? It's true — there's nothing left I regret, even if I die now.

The memory of that night had faded to the point where she almost mourned the absence of the pain. To be precise, only the rapturous pleasure that had once crashed over her like waves remained. It was almost laughable, that pleasure alone had lingered as the aftertaste where agony should have been.

Sharing a bed with a man that fine — call it fortune, if nothing else.

By a hair's breadth she might have given her virginity back home to some gutter-wretch of a man.

"Is she ready?"

At the voice from outside, the maids opened the door.

It was the military officer who had first brought her to this place.

Seoin studied him carefully. She had been too frantic to notice before, but seen clearly like this, he was the young commander who had stood beside the king on the battlefield. She had heard his voice, too, just before she fainted.

So this is one the king trusts and keeps at his side.

He unlocked the shackles with a key.

"Rise. There is somewhere you must go."

That he was sent on errands like this suggested he was, indeed, held in singular favor by the king.

"Where are we going?"

"Follow me."

The officer observed the bare minimum of courtesy, but his answers were perfunctory and his manner coercive.

I'll find out soon enough once I'm there.

Seoin asked nothing further and followed him.