Proving Usefulness (7)
There was no telling how much time had passed. It felt like she had only closed her eyes for a moment, and yet at the same time as though she had slept for ages.
The distinct sensation of the blanket being lifted away—the cover that had shielded her from the bright lamplight and the cold air—woke Seoin from her sleep.
She was in the middle of forcing her heavy eyelids open when the voice came.
“So you’ve already figured out my tastes?”
Despite its warmth, the voice hit her like another splash of cold water, snapping her fully awake.
I was undressing!
The thought surfaced at the same instant, and her hands flailed of their own accord, groping for something to cover herself with. Then the searching hand was caught, and her heavy lids flew wide open.
“!”
She had already known who it was from his voice. She just hadn’t expected his face to be quite this close.
Unlike on the battlefield, he was immaculately dressed and carrying a pleasant fragrance—and here she was, bare as the day she was born before him. The humiliation of it burned.
“They said you hated heat, yet here you are, quite the fireball.”
Seoin wrenched her captured wrist free and sat up.
“I must say, the hospitality at the Bureau of Military Affairs is extraordinary. You knew in advance that I run hot, and prepared everything for me.”
Pointing out that he hadn’t so much as given her a change of clothes to replace the ones drenched in cold water, she squared her shoulders boldly. Seon Wiyeon responded by letting his gaze drift, quite deliberately, to her bared breasts.
“I’m glad the hospitality was to your liking.”
“Thanks to which you also sniped at your own preferences, so it works out for me as well. So direct a taste you were too embarrassed to say it aloud?”
She was needling him—he had concealed that he was the king and told her to discover the king’s tastes for herself. Understanding perfectly, Seon Wiyeon’s smile deepened.
“My apologies. The fact that the king himself took the field could not reach either side’s ears.”
“And what power did you fear from a princess of a fallen kingdom taken prisoner? Did you hide it because you thought I might attempt assassination?”
“There’s no harm in being careful.”
His tone was sliding further and further into condescension, but Seoin lacked the standing to call it out.
“Or were you simply enjoying the sight of me, ignorant and desperately pleading my case?”
Seon Wiyeon let out a short laugh.
“I don’t think the princess knows what desperation actually is.”
“Apparently my desperation failed to reach you. And yet you brought me to this chamber anyway. Is it that a beauty’s scheme moves you more than my pleading?”
Seon Wiyeon found the princess’s unflinching provocation delightful.
Had she truly knelt in earnest, weeping and begging for her life, his interest might well have waned. No—though that path might have held its own pleasure, the joy of grinding a hostile kingdom’s princess into the dirt.
But he preferred her as she was now.
That audacity—stripped bare, soaked through the blanket, sleeping utterly without defense—was a charm no other woman had ever offered him. To sleep so proudly after suffering such indignities, as though untouched by any of it. Was that not provocative in itself?
Amusing.
Apparently, within the palace, this woman had tormented someone without knowing who they were, and been soundly humiliated for it.
It would serve those women best to realize quickly that she was no ordinary opponent to trifle with—but if anything, the harassment would only grow worse. They would not stop.
Which suited Seon Wiyeon perfectly. That was exactly what he wanted: discord within the inner palace.
“I’ll grant you, who were once a princess, a special choice.”
Seoin looked up at him as if to say, go on.
“Become my concubine. Or, if you dislike that—become a slave.”
The smile curling at the corner of Seon Wiyeon’s mouth was not mockery but genuine interest. And that was precisely why Seoin could choose with ease.
“Wasn’t the answer already decided?”
“If you insist on being a slave—”
“I will be your concubine.”
Whichever she chose, he clearly harbored no other intent, so she made the choice that would keep her alive.
“Unexpected. I thought you’d become a slave and take your own life?”
“Why bother? If I intended to end it all, I could do that right here. Becoming a slave would be pointless.”
“Wise.”
“No praise is necessary. I merely think it would be a waste of my beauty to die like this, and I have no wish to live laboring as a slave.”
“And being my concubine seems free of hardship to you?”
“If I could be queen instead, that would be less laborious still, but concubine isn’t bad either. Though—do you have the confidence?”
He leaned back, tilting his head as if thoroughly entertained.
“Confidence? You mean to say taking you as a concubine requires resolve on my part?”
“The opposition will be fierce. A useless princess of a fallen kingdom—and worse, a general who once pointed a blade at you on the battlefield—installed in the king’s bed. Surely you don’t imagine any minister would approve. Unless your court is composed solely of traitors who wish you dead.”
“And you have the leisure to worry on my behalf?”
“Not worry. I’m securing a promise. If you lack the confidence to take me as your concubine, then I’d like to rescind the whole affair—your sweet offer of a choice included.”
“So it was sweet? I took it for a taunt.”
“If it’s a proposal and not a taunt, then I’m curious why you want me as your concubine. Can you tell me?”
The longer Seon Wiyeon spoke with her, the stranger the heat building in his body became. In the end, he reached out and caught her chin lightly in his hand.
Seoin, still cold to the bone, felt his touch land like a branding iron against her jaw. But she did not flinch. She lifted her chin higher.
“Because you’re beautiful.”
A plain, quiet answer—yet the damp heat in the voice brushed her skin like a physical thing, raising a shiver.
Seoin forced herself to appear utterly unaffected as she replied.
“How convincing.”
Pfft.
Seon Wiyeon found her answer outright electrifying.
She spoke as though she had set aside her pride, yet there was nothing servile in it; she brimmed with confidence while never once losing sight of her station. Above all, the ferocious way she had fought on that battlefield—covered in blood, struggling savagely to the bitter end—was sensual enough to stir desire itself.
Every time that woman who had burned so hot addressed him in a voice gone cold, he wanted to strip bare the longing hidden inside that obscene shell and lay it out for the world to see.
“Guarantee my people’s rank and station. If you allow them to remain with me, I will be your pretty doll of a concubine for a very long time.”
She was laboring under some misconception. A pretty doll was something he could acquire any day of the week.
“Or else—try to become my empress.”
“Empress? Not queen consort?”
“I intend to become emperor. Thanks to your father, I’ve gained a vast stretch of land.”
“Well, I suppose nothing is impossible. Though wouldn’t it be rather difficult for me to become empress?”
“If you’re asking whether I have the confidence again—”
The hand left her chin, and without warning he seized her ankle and pulled.
“Ungh!”
The force sent Seoin sliding flat onto the bed, and in the same instant both her hands were pinned in his grip.
“There’s an easy way.”
The face of the man looming above her, looking down, was seething with a desire so fierce she could hardly bear to meet it. And from him drifted that fragrant sandalwood scent.
Seoin drank the fragrance in deeply.
This was a moment that called for wine. If she could not drink, then she would let herself be drunk on scent instead.
“Does merely bedding an emperor make one an empress?”
“Win the emperor’s favor. Don’t let the other concubines take it from you.”
“And that’s the easy way?”
Simple to say—but brutally hard in practice. Seoin knew firsthand how savage the wars among women inside a palace could be. Even among princesses it was vicious; among concubines, worse still.
“Too hard for you? What a pity. If you lack the confidence, death would be kinder.”
Seoin wanted to wrench her hands free of his grip, but no strength would come.
“Let go of my hands.”
“Is that a refusal? So you’ve decided to die after all?”
“I’m going to undress you. If we’re making a bargain, one ought to inspect the goods.”
“Ha! Hahahaha!”
He burst into hearty laughter and released her.
Seoin suppressed the urge to rub her aching wrists and spoke with perfect composure.
“Do you know why I took the field that day?”
“I was curious about that, yes.”
“Because I refused to be sold off like livestock. I declared I would choose my own match.”
Seoin reached toward him. She untied his sash and parted the front of his robes.
When Seon Wiyeon shrugged off the cumbersome outer garment, his body lay bare before her.
She had seen men’s bodies countless times on the battlefield. The bodies of common soldiers went without saying—officers and generals too, men famed for their physiques would often strip bare to show off before her. It was petty pack mentality: they wanted the woman who carried her scent among so many men driven out of the ranks. In time it stopped being spite and became mere familiarity.
Thanks to that, a man’s body was nothing strange or mysterious to her.
And yet she wanted to touch this young king’s body.
The contours of his shoulders and arms, carved by years of relentless training, looked like sculpture polished to perfection, and the lines flowing from shoulder to chest and down to his waist were sleek rather than coarse. With each breath he took, his chest swelled slowly and sank again. Even that gentle rise and fall inexplicably held her gaze.
Seoin laid her hand on his chest and spoke slowly.
“Which is why—I’d rather die than accept some soft, half-made man as my match.”
The flesh beneath her palm was astonishingly firm and smooth. Startled by the hot, pulsing resilience and the drum of his heartbeat, she drew her hand back a fraction. Then, deliberately, she swept her fingers down the sleek plane of his chest.
The muscles laid evenly across his abdomen seemed to writhe under her touch. Lines that were taut without being overbuilt shifted subtly in time with his breathing.
Seoin’s hand lingered below his navel for a moment, then hooked her fingers into the waistband of his trousers. And she lifted her eyes to his.
It was the moment she registered that his gaze was hot enough to be dangerous.
“Hah—!”
His mouth swallowed hers whole.