The King showed no hesitance. He was always quick to fulfill Min-jun’s every desire. Now he caressed his cheek, his violet eyes attentive as they took in Min-jun’s face. “Anything you wish for, my love.”
“Send Sun,” Min-jun said, taking the King’s arm. “He’s the only one I’ll trust with her.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged.”
In the meantime, they could visit the mountains, find Mai, and figure out who was behind all of this.
“The woman who kept us captive. Her name is Hye-rin,” Min-jun said. He started pacing again, lifting a finger to his chin. “She collects people with interesting Gifts, so it’s best to keep a low cover for now. One wrong move could prove disastrous. There’s Mai, of course, but she’s likely still in that mountain village where the plague has begun to spread again. I’m almost certain Eun has the ability to create illusions.” Min-jun clicked his tongue. “If only I’d known about Gifts then! I would’ve kept a closer eye on them.”
“Sun is a warrior. It won’t be easy for them to best him.” The King placed his hands on Min-jun’s shoulders. “Have faith. You will be reunited with your Su-jin soon. As for the rest, we should depart before the snow sets in.” Min-jun heard the slight edge of defeat in the King’s voice and glanced over his shoulder to look at him. With a teasing smile, he leaned in close to the King.
“Do you dislike the snow?”
“I much prefer the heat of summer,” the King replied. “Or the budding life of spring.”
Min-jun smiled, leaning against the King’s chest. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you warm.”
The King wrapped his arms around Min-jun’s waist, and Min-jun let himself melt into him, his hands lazily brushing over the fabric of the King’s white shirt. The rising sun cast the room in a warm glow. “Everything will be alright, my love. You’ll see.”
“I hope so,” Min-jun whispered, eyes half-lidded. “I really do.” And a part of him even believed it would be.
. . .
True to the King’s word, they departed for Min-jun’s place of birth not long after, a place he only remembered in fragments now. They arrived there two nights after their departure, entering a world of rough terrain and heartwrenching beauty. For Min-jun, it brought with it the sensations of a long-forgotten childhood. The fragrance of pine trees mixed with woodsmoke in the chill of winter. The King did not feel the same sentimentality looking upon the frozen land.
“Does it not suit your tastes?” Min-jun teased, as he laid their bedroll on the floor of a chilly inn. Promptly, he collapsed onto it, stretching the knots out of his back. They’d been riding on horseback nonstop for the past two days and now his muscles screamed to be allowed to rest. Meanwhile, the King had taken to the lighting of the lanterns to keep out the cold and the encroaching darkness. They had arrived just after sunset and found refuge in the old inn. Snow had begun to flurry outside, large, clumpy flakes drifting down into the glittering blanket below. A tray with a kettle and two ceramic cups waited on the floor, warm steam drifting into the air. The walls were made of sweet-smelling wood that most of the hanok in the mountain villages had been built with. There were few adornments, except for the faded painting of a field of meadow flowers.
“I wouldn’t say that,” the King said. He sneezed shortly after, and Min-jun took the initiative to wrap a blanket around the King’s shoulders, kneeling down beside the King. The King glanced up at him, perplexed.
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.
“I said I’d keep you warm.”
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“Lbcfrais,” Zlc-pec mtlvfv, atbeut fnfc tf mbeivc’a xffq atf tewbg bea bo tlr nblmf atfc. “P pera vbc’a kjca sbe ogffhlcu ab vfjat bc ws kjamt, atja’r jii.”
With the King resting in his arms, Min-jun glanced toward the window. He could see the mountains in the distance. Is what you want me to find really there, mother? Min-jun ran a hand through the King’s hair. As long as he had the King by his side, they’d surely beat this monster.
“What are you thinking about?” the King asked, his head still buried in Min-jun’s chest.
“Memories,” Min-jun replied, as his fingers swept through the ink-dark curls. “I used to get into fights with the boys in town, though I suppose none of them would recognize me now.”
“Fights?”
“I was a temperamental child.”
Min-jun could practically hear the smile in the King’s voice. Charming, infuriating. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.”
“Very funny,” Min-jun said, pulling on a lock of the King’s hair. “They deserved it.”
“A paragon of justice from the start,” the King continued, leaning in close to Min-jun’s face, a hand on his thigh. “How noble of you.”
Min-jun pushed the King’s face away with the palm of his hand. “Behave yourself.”
The King grinned at the half-hearted order, leaning in to kiss Min-jun’s nose. “I believe you’re the one who’s always trying to seduce me.”
Min-jun scoffed, covering his nose. “I am not. You’re the one who –”
“Who?” The King grinned, gleaming teeth and all. “What do I do that seduces you so?”
“You’re doing it right now!” Min-jun replied, crawling out from underneath the King. The King did nothing to stop him, merely propping his chin upon his hand. Tch. They were supposed to be focusing on the matter at hand, but all Min-jun could think of now was the King’s lips on his. If the look in the King’s eyes was anything to go by, he felt the same way.
“Is my mere existence so intoxicating?” the King teased him.
“Yes,” Min-jun replied. The King’s eyes widened a fraction, his lips parting. He had not expected that, and so the tables turned. “It is.”
Just as Min-jun was about to press his lips to the King’s, the doors to their little room slid open, and a young maid appeared behind it with a tray of snacks. “The Lady said to give you these. They will keep you warm through the night.”
“Thank you,” the King said, with a charming smile. The maid blushed, and Min-jun rolled his eyes. Show-off. “We appreciate your hospitality. Isn’t that so, my dearest companion?” The King looked up at him, fully aware of what Min-jun had planned to do. The curve of his lips was ever so enticing.
Min-jun crossed his arms, glaring at him for a brief moment, before nodding at the maid. “Much appreciated.”
The maid bowed her head, but for a long moment, she couldn’t peel her eyes away from Min-jun. Suddenly, she gasped, her hands covering her mouth. Without another word, she bowed once and ran off down the corridor.
“Odd,” the King said, as he stood up to shut the doors. “What do you think that might be about?”
Min-jun tilted his head to the side, lips parted in confusion. It almost looked as if . . . she might’ve recognized him. But how? He hadn’t been in the village since . . . well, since they left when he was six or seven years old.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re worried,” the King said.
“Everything worries me nowadays.” Min-jun stood up and approached the doors. “I’m going to see if I can get anything out of them.”
The King followed after him, laughter in his voice. “Ever the restless one. Very well. Let us investigate.”
Min-jun slid the doors open and slipped into the corridor. With silent steps, they approached the parlor room where the innkeeper had greeted them. They stopped in front of the screen, kneeling in the dark corridor. The young maid spoke in a panicky, hushed voice to the elderly innkeeper.
“That is impossible,” the innkeeper hissed. “What business would that woman’s spawn have here?”
“Perhaps he’s come to finish what she started,” another, deeper, voice said. It was the voice of an elderly man, worn tired with age.
“Hush now,” the innkeeper snapped at him. “There’s no reason for us to think such a thing.”
“What do we do?” the young maid asked. Her voice trembled. “Mother?”
“Call the other villagers. We’ll decide together –”
Min-jun shoved open the doors and marched into the small parlor room, despite the King’s protests. He tucked his trembling hands into his sleeves, taking in the three villagers standing in the center, their shadows long. These people knew something, and Min-jun wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out what it was. “It is rude to gossip about others.”
The three of them stared at Min-jun and the King. The broomstick in the young maid’s hands clattered to the floor.
“Pardon our intrusion,” the King said, sheepishly. He placed his hands on Min-jun’s shoulders, and the touch calmed him down somewhat.
“My mother was Hae Yuna.” Min-jun’s nails dug into the flesh of his arms. “You will tell me what you know of her. Why . . . what did she do to this village that you speak of her in such a way?”
The inn keeper walked forward with her cane in her hand. Min-jun looked into her clear blue eyes. She could not see him, after all.
“You were just a wee thing then,” the inn keeper said. “Just a child. Have you ever wondered why your family had to leave the village?”
Min-jun had never thought twice about it. His parents had kept them on the move ever since, and soon, their nomadic lifestyle became expected.
“My father was a merchant.”
“Your mother was a murderer.”
A/N: Thank you for reading. If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment down below.
cliff again… 😭 but we’re finally getting closer to the truth!
Oh my gosh, his mom must have known he would hear things about her if he went back, but sent him anyway! I still feel like his parents were good people so I’m super curious about the story he’s about to hear.