How To Kill A King:
Chapter 1
The two proctors – middle-aged women dressed in green-blue robes – walked between rows of young ladies, all vying for the position of the King’s consort, dressed in their finest hanbok. They were gathered outside, as they weren’t able to fit everyone inside the Academy’s exam hall, and the proctors couldn’t be bothered to supervise two testing stations.
The Consort’s Exam.
It was one of the King’s newest policies. The ministers had thrown quite a fit over it, as traditionally only the daughters of noblemen were allowed to become the King’s consort. Commoners could only be concubines, glorified courtesans until the King bores of them. Imagine the horror of it all: a commoner in the position of a potential Queen and Queen Mother.
The King certainly had a rebel inside him, Min-jun thought. How long will it take for them to turn on you, your Majesty?
Min-jun would die before he let those half-witted ugly men take his kill from him. Over his dead body, they’d take him.
‘59. What is the King’s favorite color?’
Really though, some of these questions were just ridiculous. Min-jun would need to have a talk with the test writers afterward, results be damned.
He wrote down ‘red’ nonetheless. The King probably liked the color, considering the amount of blood he continued to spill for no fathomable reason.
Left were five hundred questions about politics and good manners only the privileged, educated masses would know. What a measured step this was. The King might’ve opened up his court to commoners, but few commoners held the knowledge to pass his evaluations. Without Mother’s help, Min-jun would’ve certainly failed. Without Mother, he wouldn’t even be here in the first place.
He was the first to stand in the neat rows of applicants, his clothing ratty when compared to the rest. At his old job, he wouldn’t have been caught dead in such a drab array. He would’ve made sure to have been found dead in a ditch in only his finest. Living as a commoner had taken that away from him, but that was the only thing he missed about that place. Well, that and Su-Jin.
Some of the applicants raised their heads as he treaded between them, his footsteps barely audible against the stone path, even in the silence of the courtyard. The ones who noticed him were also the ones with the most elegant attire, all patterned silks and vibrant colors, their hair braided with gold pins on the tops of their scalps. In their eyes, only suspicion grew. He should’ve taken his time. Now they all thought he’d cheated.
“Name?”
“Hae Min-jun.”
“Sangmin?”
“Yes.”
The woman stuck her hand out to him, her hands veined and perfectly manicured, nails polished like thin sheets of glass. She wore green-blue like the rest of the servants, but her hair had been pinned into place with a gold pin. Wealthy.
Min-jun handed her his test. She examined it at a lethargic pace, her eyes half-closed. Then, rather abruptly, her eyes met his.
“Your arms.”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Again? He had been thoroughly probed before the test as well, even having him strip his clothes to ensure a fair test. Her hand took hold of his wrist and turned his arm, looking for ink or a strip of paper tucked into his sleeves. There was nothing. He didn’t need to cheat. All of the answers had been drilled into his mind long ago, even if they hadn’t been in this format.
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“Come. We will prepare you for the interview.”
~ ~ ~
The interviewers had been laughing before he’d entered, playing a round of yut nori as they waited for the consort applicants to file in. The most cheerful one looked up at him, his jeering grin turning polite. The others turned toward him in kind. To the cheerful one’s right was a young woman with dark hair and brown skin, her hanbok colored a dusky pink and purple to contrast the stoicism of her expression. To the left of them was another man, much more muscular than his scrawny companion, eyes the color of raw honey. He wore a striped hanbok of indigo and turquoise. It didn’t look particularly good on him, but he was handsome enough to not look appalling in it.
“Looks like our first victim is here,” said the man in blue, one arm propped up on his knee as he pointed one of the wooden sticks to a spot across from the interviewers. “Sit down. You must be tired after the written exam.”
“The exam writers were very thorough,” Min-jun said. Even if some of the questions were absurd. His complaints could wait until he was certain of his own standing.
“Say,” the cheerful one spoke, walking closer to him until they were only a few inches apart, vibrating with enthusiasm, “are you any good at yut nori?”
“Pardon?”
The cheerful one smiled even wider, turning rather impish as he leaned in too close. “Our teams are uneven right now. I need another person to play on mine.”
Min-jun furrowed his brow, still maintaining his polite facade. “I can’t imagine how that could be relevant to the exam.” Quite unprofessional, if you asked him.
The cheerful one scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’d rather be bored out of your mind for the next thirty minutes. Loosen that tension in you. The King likes a man who doesn’t think himself above a game of yut. Unless, of course, you’re scared of losing.”
What a tasteless tactic.
It worked, of course. Under all the pleasantries he laid on top of himself, Min-jun couldn’t keep his competitiveness concealed.
So, he sat down beside the cheerful one, who introduced himself as Jang Ji-Won, the King’s advisor. They reset the board and had Min-jun be the first to throw the four wooden yut sticks. Only one of the sticks fell with its flat side up. One step forward for their tokens.
“You’re from Dal Province?”
“Yes. My mother was an investigator. My father owned a bookstore.” His mother had never been fond of the books, preferring to rely on her own reason than that of others. Thankfully, Min-jun took after his father, studious to a fault.
“Past tense?”
“They died a few years ago,” he told them. “It’s why I’m here now. They were avid supporters of the King.” The King’s death, that is.
“Ah,” Ji-Won said, “two orphaned hearts brought together by lingering devotion. How romantic.”
“Yes, nothing says romance like dead parents,” Sun said, throwing the sticks back up into the air. His gold eyes glimmered with victory when all four sticks landed with their flat sides facing up. Four steps and an extra turn. Min-jun grimaced. The game was rigged for the lucky ones.
“Honestly, Sun,” Ji-Won replied. “You have no sense for the romance in things. You need to read more.”
“I don’t want to read what you read.”
The woman tossed the sticks up into the air. Three steps. Their tokens moved into the corner of the board. Min-jun followed suit. One step.
Sun met Min-jun’s eyes. “How did they die?”
“Sun!” Ji-Won scolded. “A little bit of tact. Find it.”
“It’s quite alright,” Min-jun replied. “People naturally get curious about such things.” He raised his head to look Sun in the eyes again. “They passed away due to health complications. Time’s plague.”
That shut them up. The rash of time’s plague had left the Kingdom of Saro with a fear of a ticking sound behind them, the sight of numbers dropping. It was like magic, they said. A curse that found its place in a person’s veins and could never be drawn out. Everyone who caught it died within days.
No one ever asked for details about the plague, which made it a perfect cover story for Min-jun.
Ji-Won hit Sun over the back of the head, scolding his insensitivity. Sun winced, rubbing at the place of impact. “Sorry.”
“It’s not a problem.” It’s a lie, after all. It was better this way. They wouldn’t speculate upon a question they already had the answer to.
“What do you do for a living?” the woman asked, giving Sun a pointed look.
“I follow in my mother’s footsteps.” He moved his token across the board. “Serving justice.”
A young maid walked in carrying a tray of tea and cakes.
“You work in the justice department?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m part of a private agency. The official department wouldn’t hire me due to my background as the son of a merchant.” Plus, they were wholly incompetent at their jobs. He had no interest in working for a boss who only knew how to spin a good story when there were people who needed actual protection.
“What are you planning on doing if you’re selected?” the woman asked.
Min-jun smiled. Planning on doing? We’re nothing but companions for the King. “To serve his Majesty.”
“How?”
Based on Mother’s teachings, he should go on a long tangent proclaiming all the ways he could entertain the King. But he was his mother’s son, and her training told him otherwise. That is not the answer you’re seeking, is it? The exam itself was already unconventional. It wasn’t so strange that the King would seek different qualities in their consorts. Something other than grace and modesty and subservience. Min-jun remembered the exam questions, all a touch more controversial than what he’d expected, profiling the applicants’ knowledge of the political atmosphere.
“I plan to do as I have always done,” he replied. “Serve justice. I will assist the King in doing so by pushing forward reforms that strengthen our justice system, digging out the roots of corruption. I’ve been working in this department long enough to recognize a bad apple.” He’d start with killing the King, of course. Perhaps if he managed to get away with it, he’d manage to keep the Kingdom from crumbling under the pressure of a monarch’s death.
“You’re a commoner. How will you gain enough followers to support the King in such an endeavor?”
Right, how was a commoner supposed to convince the nobility of anything, when they thought of them as lesser beings? “I can be very persuasive.”
“Elaborate,” Sun said. So suspicious, that one. Min-jun hoped their paths would stay far apart.
“I would prefer not to.”
“Why?”
“What sort of magician reveals all his tricks before the show?”
“You sound more like a conman to me.”
He wasn’t letting it go. Min-jun sighed, flipping the yut sticks up into the air. One step forward. “I suppose I do. My methods differ depending on who I am trying to convince. Not everyone can be drawn in with pretty words.” And a pretty face. Though most didn’t last long before they fell for him. “I’ve worked with a lot of people over the years. I’ve amassed information and resources most don’t have access to.”
“Blackmail,” Sun said, “is the word you’re looking for.”
He didn’t have to say it like that. Who did he think he was, judging Min-jun’s methods when his own ruler got to his throne through bloodshed and terror? “It’s a last resort of mine.”
“Say,” Ji-Won said, looking down at the board on the table. Min-jun was grateful for the change in subject. “You’re not very good at this game.”
Min-jun looked down. His token had barely moved. “I suppose I don’t have the best luck.”
The woman cleared her throat. “Those are all our questions. If you’re selected, you will be sent to the Palace, and the King will interview you personally.”
Impressive. They made it sound even more like a business transaction than before.
Min-jun bowed his head, thanking them. Their eyes followed him as he left the room.
He walked through the halls, the white walls spotted with wooden, square windows that gave a view of the courtyard. Most of the applicants were still leaning over their exam papers, their brushes gliding over the surface, bleeding ink. How many of them even wanted to be here today? How many of them were here serving some higher purpose?
Regardless of the applicants’ possible romantic fantasies, the King was clearly not interested in love. This appeared to be no more than another office to fill. That was of no significance. If Min-jun’s skills haven’t faded, his Majesty would be changing his tune very soon. It’s time for you to get down on your knees and beg, your Majesty.
Thank you for the chapter!!
Min Jun ah, I think your plan is a bit flawed, you seem a bit naive. good luck ne
Min-jun’s plan was flawed from the start (bc Mother gave him a terrible plan to work with lol). Thank you for reading!
this is really well written !! thank you 🙂
Thank you for reading and for the compliment! I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.
I’m guessing then, homosexual relationships are an ok thing in this world? And did Min-Jun work in a brothel to learn to “serve” men and “gather” his network of information? Interesting…
They’re ok in the sense most people would not blink an eye at them, but they’re not as valued as heterosexual relationships. For example, most people wouldn’t be able to take a male bride as the King does here. The male lover would likely be a mistress instead, but they wouldn’t be shamed for it the way they might’ve been irl. Min-jun’s business at the brothel will be explained later, but you’re pretty much right.
Thank you so much for commenting! I really appreciate hearing your thoughts.
Isn’t he lucky they can’t read mind… 😂
😂
Oooh, such intrigue! I really love how this is written. It has atmosphere, and the characters don’t seem to be unchanging. I can’t wait to read more. 😊
Thank you 😭 I’m glad you’re enjoying it so far! I try my best haha