Well, that wasn’t so bad –
“Torture him until he speaks then. Do not waste my time with such simple decisions.” The King said those words in such a cool tone that Min-jun whipped his head around to look at him. What a transformation it was, to see the King change from a besotted lover to a ruthless regent in a matter of seconds. His face had taken on a look that bordered on disinterest, or perhaps even impatience. Min-jun shook his head. His King could be so thoughtless sometimes.
“Yes, Your Majesty! You’re right, of course.” The young man began to turn away, despondent, but Min-jun interjected swiftly.
“Hold on,” he said, taking a step forward. “I can go. There’s no reason for me not to go.”
“He stabbed you in the stomach,” the King said, matter-of-factly.
“Yes, I-I heard of that as well,” said the young man, raising his hand, only to place it on the back of his neck awkwardly. “His Majesty beat the Minister half to death during the initial interrogation. We were all very worried.”
The King’s glare was enough to silence him.
“And now he’s stuck in a cell,” Min-jun said, gesturing with his hands. “It’s not as if he’s going to try to stab me again.”
“He’s an enemy of the Phoenix Throne,” said the King. “One can never be too careful around them.” Them? Perhaps he feared that the Minister might have a Gift up his sleeve.
“Still,” Min-jun said. “If there’s a chance he might talk, shouldn’t we take it?”
“Min-jun.”
“Cheol.”
The young man seemed to choke on air at the sound of the King’s given name being spoken. Min-jun crossed his arms, unmoving. The King only managed to hold his gaze for a second more, before caving in. He pulled his gaze away from Min-jun and covered his eyes with his hand, turning to face the lake beyond the Pavilion’s pillars.
“Very well,” said the King. “But be careful.”
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.
“Aren’t I always?” Min-jun asked. The King turned around to give him a disbelieving look. After clearing his throat, Min-jun replied, “I will be. I promise.”
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“Relax,” Min-jun said, patting the King’s shoulder. “I’ll be perfectly safe.”
The King mumbled something under his breath, shaking his head as he turned away. Triumph filled him. He was getting quite good at this.
. . .
The last time Min-jun had visited the Investigation Bureau’s prison courtyard, he’d come to see his disgraced maids. Now, he came to see a traitorous official. The conditions of the prisoners seemed improved from that visit, so long ago now, but he still did not envy their imprisonment. Most of them had been moved inside to keep them from freezing in the cold nights. As Min-jun entered the interior prison, they looked at him as they had before: with resentment. Min-jun often wondered if his parents would’ve treated him with the same contempt. Whether he’d killed them or not, the King was still one of their enemies. A man they’d despised. But you’d been wrong about him. So very wrong.
“I’m here,” Min-jun announced. “What do you want?”
The Minister of Personnel lay on the floor of the cell, eyes wide open as Min-jun spoke. A smile spread across his lips, slowly. He sat up.
“An honor, Your Highness.”
“Yes, I certainly felt the depths of your admiration when you stabbed me.” Min-jun lowered himself to a squat in front of the cell, taking care not to let his robes touch the dirty floor. That would be a true travesty. “Well?”
For a moment, the Minister of Personnel only smiled at him, a wistful, faraway look in his eyes. Min-jun realized, with something akin to pity, that the man was quite young. Perhaps a few years older than himself. “You look so much like your mother.”
Min-jun’s temper flared at the mention of his mother. “Excuse me?”
“Yes, now you look even more like her. You have the same face. It’s almost uncanny,” he replied, quietly, as if reminiscing on days long gone. “How long has it been now? Six years?”
Min-jun clenched his jaw as if to stop himself from correcting the Minister’s little story. In the end, he couldn’t help himself. “Seven.”
“Yes, they passed away in the second month. The snow still covered the ground. I was there, too, you know. You were only fifteen? Sixteen? I saw you there too, with that woman. Thought it a cruel thing to bring a child to their own parents’ executions.” The Minister sighed and placed his hand on his knee. “Your parents had always treated me well. I was sorry to see them end up like that, though I suppose such was their mission.”
“Mission?” In the back of his mind, Min-jun recalled the King’s concern about the Minister’s potential gift. Had he really known his parents, or did he merely have a particularly troublesome Gift?
“You know nothing, do you?” the Minister said, humorlessly. “I shouldn’t have expected much more from that woman’s minions. Though you’re not much of a minion now, enamored as you are with the King.”
“They knew they’d be executed,” Min-jun whispered, hardly believing the words himself. His parents would’ve never left him like that, no matter what their reasons might’ve been. They never would’ve left him at Mother’s mercy. He knew that much to be true.
“I don’t know about that,” the Minister replied. “I only know that they were sent to be arrested. Something about infiltrating the Palace. Perhaps it went awry and they weren’t able to escape. You never know with these things. Sorry about the stabbing, by the way. It was poor sportsmanship on my part.”
Min-jun tactfully ignored that last bit. He had no interest in the apologies of a man like the Minister, who had sold women like cattle without a shred of remorse. In any case, if what the bastard said was true, it was clear they were sent there to die. The King’s doppelganger interfering with the death sentence was proof enough of that.
“Was it Mother who gave them the order?” Min-jun asked.
A snort. The Minister seemed to find the suggestion rather amusing. “That woman? No, she’s only the messenger, there to do the dirty from time to time. Our master is much more powerful than she.”
“Who is your master?”
“Our master,” the Minister said. “You’re as much his pawn as the rest of us.”
“Very well, have it your way. Who is our master?”
The Minister gave Min-jun a bored look, and said, “You’re the Investigator, aren’t you? Why don’t you find out for yourself?”
“Shall I ask the King to get it out of you instead?” Min-jun asked. A threat, and one he had every intention of following through with should he have to.
“How frightening,” said the Minister. He drew closer, suddenly, gripping the wooden bars that separated them. “I’ll give you a hint, then. To be honest, I’ve always hated our master.”
Min-jun waited a moment for him to speak, but when the Minister opened his mouth again, it was to cough up blood. Min-jun stood abruptly, calling for the guards to send for a medic. The Minister lay on the ground, writhing. They didn’t have much time.
Min-jun clenched his jaw and muttered a curse under his breath, opening the door to the little cell where the Minister was kept.
“What was the hint? Tell me!” Min-jun asked, desperate for even the slightest clue. A mouthed word, a pointed gaze, but the Minister was long gone by then, his life holding on to a final, delicate thread.
He knelt down next to the Minister, taking his hand, feeling for a pulse. Nothing. Their last lead was gone, just like that.
The King appeared first, of course, and did not seem pleased with the fact that Min-jun had entered the cell of a criminal, even if the said criminal was lying on the ground motionless.
“I don’t know how he did it,” Min-jun whispered. “He’d said he’d give me a lead on the case, and then . . .”
“An enchantment, perhaps?” the King said, kneeling down next to him.
“Enchantment?” Min-jun asked.
The King nodded. “It’s rare, but some Gifts can give their owners great power over others. I wouldn’t be surprised if the perpetrator had a Gift that allowed them to make deals with their followers, to keep them quiet.”
Min-jun’s stomach flipped. He recalled all the times he’d almost told the King about Mother. How difficult it had been to get the words out. Could she have a Gift like that?
“There’s something written in the straw,” the King whispered, standing. Min-jun joined him. He could make out the crude character, but just barely.
“Loyalty,” Min-jun whispered. Without thinking, he placed one hand on the King’s arm. Whether it was to steady himself or to find comfort in the touch, he couldn’t be sure. “He said he’d been working for someone. A master.”
“That would be plausible,” the King said, slowly, as if he knew Min-jun wanted to say more.
“He’d said my parents had shared the same master.”
The King turned to look at him fully. Min-jun couldn’t quite discern his expression, but with his eyes widened just a tad, he’d gather the King was as surprised as he’d been.
A/N: Thank you for reading! If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment down below!
always more questions and mysteries!! so mother wasn’t the final boss?!
they’ve still got a lot of investigating to do 😅
Well, there’s the new drug problem, the bookstore murder, the person who can impersonate Cheol…I wonder if his parents really did get into knowing they would orphan Min-jun in the process. I hope not.
😃