The stables were quiet as Mai entered. They wouldn’t mind if she took one of the horses, surely. It was for a good cause. If Min-jun died, the King would be inconsolable, and then who knew what would happen? There were many things that Mai did not understand about the King’s gift, but if it was tied to his emotions like so many other gifts, then . . .
She couldn’t think about that right now.
Mai chose one of the stallions. A tall, muscular horse with a brown coat and mane, its green eyes glinting in the torches’ fire. Was it the fastest? She didn’t know much about horses outside of what Gyeo-wool taught her before he died.
“Not that one,” a voice said, just as she was about to unlatch the hook that locked the stallion in its stable. The King was there, his voice less hoarse than it had been when he’d been tending to Min-jun. Some of the gentleness had returned. He walked closer to her, his bright crimson robes marking him as the ruler of the land. Whenever Mai was near him she wasn’t sure if she should beg for her life or ask about his day. There were times he acted like a father or brother, and others where he was every bit the ruthless King they’d claimed he was. She wasn’t sure which side was the true King.
“Take Mudan,” he said, leading her to a beautiful mare with a black mane and a soft, glossy coat. The mare looked like ink on a page in the torchlight. “She’s the fastest.”
“You’re letting me leave the Palace?” she asked. Would he follow her? It had been something she’d hoped to avoid when she lied about helping the physicians with the cure.
The King did not answer for some time, merely gazing at her with a thoughtful expression.
“I’ve learned that it is wise to put my faith in certain people,” the King said. “So far, I’ve seen no reason why I should have any doubts about your loyalty or your ability.”
He always surprised her. How could he put so much faith in anyone? Much less someone who had tried to kill both him and Min-jun. How could he be so frightening and so kind? Mai suddenly understood why Min-jun was so confused. One couldn’t make sense of this King.
“I will save him,” Mai said, with confidence.
The King patted her head, and tears began to well up in Mai’s eyes. The poison would take three days to kill a man, but before that . . . could she really do this? Could she make it in time? Could she steal from Mother’s personal apothecary? She couldn’t be certain, but Mai could not wait around for those doctors to come up with a cure. There was no one else who could do this.
“You’ve grown,” the King said, giving her a soft smile. “Min-jun will be so proud to hear what you’ve done.”
This the King shared with Min-jun. He made her want to rely on him. Without a second thought, Mai wrapped her arms around the King’s torso. The King patted her back, a bit awkwardly. It reminded her of when Min-jun embraced her by the lake in Jangmi Villa. She found that she quite liked being held by someone.
“It’s going to be alright,” the King said, stroking the top of her head. “Are you sure you don’t want me to send someone with you?”
Mai had her gift to defend her. She had never needed anyone’s protection, though for a long time she’d wished for someone to shield her from the troubles of the world anyway. Not this time. Today, she wanted to face the beast alone. The beast being Mother, of course.
She shook her head, leaving the King’s embrace to meet his gaze again.
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.
“Then, a gift.” The King brought a small package out of his robes and held it out to Mai. She opened it to reveal a row of . . . sewing needles?
“P vbc’a ilxf fwygblvfglcu,” rtf rjlv, ibbxlcu eq ja tlw lc mbcoerlbc.
Ktf Blcu ijeutfv ilutais. “Ktfs’gf qblrbc cffvifr. Pc mjrf sbe’v qgfofg ab yf j ilaaif ifrr mbcrqlmeber ktfc sbe vfji klat atbrf ktb rajcv lc sbeg kjs. C rwjii qglmx lr fcbeut ab xcbmx j ugbkc wjc bea lc j wjaafg bo rfmbcvr. Tbe’ii tjnf oloaffc wlceafr ab ufa ktja sbe cffv boo bo atfw.”
“Get what I need?” A suspicious choice of words, certainly.
The King smiled, conspiratorily. “Thievery often comes with its own rewards.”
The King? A thief? And not in a metaphorical sense? “Thank you.” She placed the package in the satchel at her side, still wondering what had happened in the King’s life to have him turn to a life of crime.
The King helped her with the mare and gave her a pouch of mun coins that was more than enough for the journey she planned to take.
“Take care,” the King said, mussing up her hair. “Do not push yourself or Mudan too far. Min-jun is strong. He will not die easily.”
“I understand.” She understood the King must feel a lot more anxious than he showed. There was no denying the withered flowers lining the building as they stepped out of the stables. He must be panicking.
Mai mounted the horse and looked back down at the King. After the slightest hesitation, she said: “I will not fail.”
The King smiled, but it was clear the reassurance did little to calm his nerves. “Neither will I.”
It appeared as Mai left the Palace, that winter had come early to Saro’s capital.
. . .
Reaching Geoul City took a day and a half, and Mai kept time religiously as she rode. How was Min-jun faring? It took three days for a healthy man to die of the snow peony poison, but Min-jun wasn’t exactly a healthy man. Not with his drinking habits and the irregular amounts of stress he was always under.
She rode into Geoul City and the scents of gas lanterns and savory stews mingled in the air. The brothel houses often cooked fragrant dishes to attract customers with empty stomachs. The rain hadn’t spread to Geoul City yet. Here, the sun shined, and everyone remained oblivious to the terrible fate that might befall them should the King’s beloved Consort be taken from him.
The apothecary was in the same place it had always been. Right between the cosmetics store selling powders that slowly killed their users, and one of the four tailors that tended to the dresses of the young courtesans that lived in the many kisaeng houses in Geoul City. Just across the road was one of the most prominent kisaeng houses in the City: The Gem of Saro.
That’s where Min-jun had worked.
Even in the daytime, the kisaeng house was bustling with activity. She could not imagine him here, walking through the gardens with a man who was not the King. Inside, a woman sang, and instruments played, and there was chatter and applause and other sounds. Mai had never liked the kisaeng houses. They felt dangerous, somehow. She was glad that Min-jun left that place. He might not like the Palace either, but it must be better than the kisaeng house.
Mai entered the apothecary with a list of fake ingredients. She was only a child, so most people weren’t as wary of her as they might be of an adult. Inside, the apothecary smelled like dried herbs and wood. Shelves of little cabinets holding various medicinal plants sat along one of the walls. A middle-aged woman sat behind a desk in front of the cabinets, flipping through a book with bent edges.
“What is it you need, child?” the woman asked, looking up at her past the rim of her spectacles. Her eyes were a sharp green color that Mai had never seen before.
Mai approached her and held out the list. The woman skimmed through it and stood.
“Wait here,” she said. “Help yourself to the refreshments if you’d like.”
Mai glanced at the bowl of candy on the woman’s desk. She was actually not that fond of sweet things, unless they were persimmons. Dried persimmons, cooked persimmons, persimmon tea, persimmon juice, persimmon pie . . .
No, no, she couldn’t get hungry now. She had a job to do.
She watched as the woman took a key out of her pocket and unlocked the door with it. Sorry about this, Mai thought as she approached the woman, her footsteps silent. It won’t kill you though.
Mai shoved her hand into the satchel and brought out the poison needles. And then, before the woman could turn around to check on Mai, there was the prick of a tip of a needle at her back. Just as the King had claimed, the poison knocked her out within seconds. They were helpful, after all.
The door having been left unlocked, Mai snuck inside, making not a single sound. It was dark inside the room, the only light streaming in through the crack in the door. Most medicines and poisons preferred cool, dark places, she supposed. There were cabinets like the ones outside, except now there were rows and rows of them. Now, how did they organize their potions?
Mai began to search the cabinets. Some of them were labeled, others were not, and the ones that did not have labels worried her the most. What if it was that one? The one with no label? What if she wouldn’t be able to find the snow peony antidote at all? How long has it been? She needed a day and a half to return home as well.
I have to find it.
Maybe she should’ve kept the woman awake. That way she could’ve told her where the antidote was. But no, that woman was one of Mother’s people. And we never talk.
Soon, Mai had gone through all the cabinets in the apothecary with nothing but a few papercuts to show for it. What would she tell the King? She leaned back against one of the shelves of cabinets, wracking her brain for a solution. Come on. This was Mother’s shop. If she had snow peony poison, then she must have the antidote stored here somewhere.
No.
Mother would not hide something so rare and valuable in a cabinet at a store that anyone could break into. Mai looked at the rows and rows of shelves. Was it even here? Or would Mai have to break into a place much more dangerous than an apothecary?
She imagined meeting Mother again. Mother’s brown eyes, almost red, and empty as ever as she gazed down at Mai in distaste. Her lips painted red, her eyes lined with black powder. Her expensive hanbok and glossy hair perfectly maintained. Mother liked it when things were perfect. Mother did not like failures.
Mai hugged herself, feeling cold all of a sudden, the wood at her back cold to the touch. Her stomach rolled as if she might be sick at any moment. She placed a hand over her mouth and gagged.
What do I do? Min-jun?
Truth be told, Mai was just as scared to lose him as the King was. She was afraid that the King might throw her out of the Palace if Min-jun dies. She was afraid because the only other place left for her to turn to was Mother’s protection. I don’t want to go back there, Min-jun.
And perhaps, even more than that, she was afraid that she might lose another person she had begun to care for deeply. Even if he was a terrible assassin and a generally irritating man.
“Think like an investigator,” Min-jun’s voice urged. “Eliminate all the possibilities, and whatever is left . . .”
Mai shifted her focus to the walls and floors, for loose planks and bricks. Anything that might suggest something could be hidden in it.
There. By the wall, the mortar around one of the planks had been all but removed. Could it be?
Mai dug her fingers into the gap between the wooden boards and found that she could wrap them underneath the board. She pulled the wooden board up. Beneath it, there were dust and cobwebs and one old wooden chest locked with a golden padlock. Unfortunately for them, Mai had learned how to pick locks long ago.
She pulled a lockpick out of her satchel and twisted it inside the padlock, waiting for that characteristic click.
Click!
She opened the wooden chest, and inside were an array of little jars. The rarest of poisons and cures. And a little vial of red liquid with a label that read ‘snow peony: antidote’.
Relief filled her as she closed her hand around the vial. Min-jun would’ve been proud of her, wouldn’t he? Once cured, she’d tell him everything about how she found Mother’s secret stash.
She shook her head. What nonsense was she thinking? It was as if she was a child again. Ridiculous.
Mai gingerly placed the vial into her satchel and bolted for the door, excitement spurring her forward, all wariness forgotten with the medicine in her possession. The thrill of finding the antidote, of outsmarting Mother in a way, blinded her to anything else. Had she thought to look outside the window, she might’ve seen the hulking man outside the door, and in doing so, she might’ve tried to find another way out of the apothecary. Even then, however, nothing could’ve prevented what happened next.
One step. Mai only managed to take one step out the door before she was grabbed from behind, a cold hand clamping down over her mouth. She’d been caught.
A/N: Thank you for reading! If you liked this chapter, leave a comment down below. I have also realized that May 15th marked the anniversary of HTKAK on Tapas. So much has happened since then! I couldn’t have gotten this far without all of your support this past year. If there is anything you would like as a gift (extra chapter, AU, etc), please let me know!
Mai is such a filial daughter 😢
She really is. Min-jun and Gyeo-wool raised her well.
Thank you for commenting!
Hopefully he doesn’t know what he caught and she can take him down! When Cheol helped her leave, it occurred to me that he might keep her as one of his assassins. Then she thought of Min-jun as a terrible assassin and I felt smug about my assessment 😊
Everyone can tell MJ is not cut out for the assassin life, even Min-jun can tell he’s not a good assassin. Mai, on the other hand . . .
Thank you for commenting!
HAPPY ANNIVERSARYYYY
AND NOOO MAAAAAI
Thank you so much! I can’t believe it’s already been a year. It doesn’t feel like that long at all. And yes, Mai is going through some bs right now.
Thanks for the chapter ♥️♥️
Thank you for commenting!
Oh no 🫣😧
It only gets worse.
Thanks for commenting!
Happy Anniversary 🎊
Thank you so much, Gofa!