Page 79 of King Foretold
He doesn’t need the added worry of my unsupervised Yeoiju practice. I didn’treallymean to summon the light anyway. The element of surprise is the only thing going for us in this mission. If I’d known Icould actually do it, I wouldn’t have risked exposing us by accidentally blowing the roof off this palanquin.
But how did Idothat? It was so easy, so effortless. I gingerly finger the word of power on my back, over my hanbok. I don’t sense even a prickle of heat—the rune is completely dormant—so it isn’t that. ButIfeel awake. I feel ...unleashed.
Did surrendering to my love free me somehow, like a mountainous boulder rolling off my soul? Was I so focused on hiding my love from Ethan, holding everything in so tight, that I suffocated my own powers? Can it be true? Did my desperation to protect Ethan constrain my magic like the stone of tears had bound his powers?
I’m sorely tempted to summon the light again, but I restrain myself.Later.I’ll see if it’s just as easy to call on the Yeoiju’s magic. I’ll see if loving Ethan with all of me—if being braver than I’ve ever been—has somehow made me more powerful.Later.
I sigh, suddenly restless. I don’t know how far we’ve come, or how far we have left to go. The anticipation is killing me. If we’re going to die, I want to get on with it. Better yet, I want us to capture the King of Mountains and have himpeacefullyabdicate his throne to Ethan. But I have a feeling that is not how this is going to play out.
I drum my fingers against my knees, willing the time to pass more quickly. I can’t even stare out at the passing scenery as I would on a long drive in the Mortal Realm. The wooden walls of the palanquin seem to close in on me, and I shut my eyes against the unexpected bout of claustrophobia. All I can do is breathe and wait.
Harsh whispers jerk me awake, and I lift my ass halfway off the palanquin floor. I fight the impulse to throw the window open to see what’s happening. Instead, I calm my pounding heart and listen.
“You’re late,” a female snaps, sounding more afraid than angry. “We must hurry. I have been appeasing him, telling him the roads are muddy from the rain. But he will soon catch on that something is amiss.”
“My deepest apologies.” Ethan’s voice is pitched low but sincere. “I know the risk you’re taking by helping us. No matter what happens, we won’t let any harm come to you.”
“No one can keep any of us safe.” The female scoffs, then softens her tone. “The king grows more paranoid by the day. He would have killed me, and the younger court ladies under my supervision, for one reason or another. I am risking no more than a handful of days with this betrayal.”
“A risk nonetheless,” Ethan insists. “I thank you for your courage.”
“Come with me,” she says gruffly.
My gama jostles as it picks up pace, and I shoot my hand out to steady myself against the side wall. I take deep breaths to halt the light tremors quaking through me. When breathing exercises fail, I wrap my hand around the hilt of my hwando, protruding from under my skirt. My shoulders immediately drop away from my ears, and I sigh in relief. My sword is like a warm, cozy security blanket, except it’s pointy, sharp, and deadly.
“We’re here,” Ethan warns in a rough whisper a second before my palanquin settles on the ground.
I step out of the palanquin with my eyes lowered demurely, to stay in character as the physician’s assistant. But I needn’t have bothered. There is no one around, except us. Our spy brought us to the back entrance of a grand hanok, which stands at the center of a vast, walled courtyard.
I peek at the pale, drawn face of our spy, who casts a furtive glance around our surroundings. Her hanbok chima is the color of rich soil and her grass green jeogori has a dangui, an elongated front panel that hangs past her navel. My eyes widen in surprise as I realize she’s a high-ranking court lady.
No pond, shrubs, or trees surround the opulent hanok with its crimson latticed windows and its arching, jade-tiled roof. Anyone approaching the structure would be seen from yards away from every side. Now I understand why sneaking in at night wasn’t an option.
Ethan and Jihun flank me as we face the court lady. She pins us with her sharp gaze and gets straight to business.
“The king only steps outside his jimil to attend the morning assembly in the royal audience hall with his officials, then he remains in his chambers for the rest of the day. He has terminated all audience with visiting officials and scholars since his ... illness.” The court lady nods at us with grim determination. “My assistant gungnyeo is doing her best to keep the royal guards occupied, but they will return before long. You must follow me.”
We climb the stone steps and remove our shoes before entering the king’s quarters. The inner hallways are dim, as though even the sun is afraid to approach the volatile tyrant, and the silence feels ominous, like it isn’t an absence of sound but a suffocation of it.
Playing the part of the blind physician, Jihun places his hand on my arm and moves with deliberate hesitance, lightly shuffling his feet. I take care to match my steps to his. Ethan’s strides are sure footed as he walks ahead of us with the court lady. He must be familiar with the layout, thanks to his mother’s memories.
Ethan has only spoken of the King of Mountains in anger, but a part of him must feel the pull of blood. No matter what the male has done, he is still his father. Jihun and I will find a way to kill the powerful king, if it comes to that. We agreed not to let that burden fall on Ethan. Even together, we are not strong enough to defeat the tyrant, but I’m willing to die trying. Or better yet, I’ll take the motherfucker with me.
Whenever I see other gungnyeos coming down the hallway, I lower my eyes even as my adrenaline spikes. But every court lady we pass bows to our spy with deference, marking her as the most senior court lady, the jimil sanggung. She must have dedicated her entire life to obtainthat position. Things must be worse than we thought if she is willing to risk her life’s work to help us take down the king.
The sanggung comes to a stop in front of a room with wide latticed double doors, with two court ladies kneeling on opposite ends of the doors. When one of the court ladies glances up, our spy gives her a sharp shake of her head, and the young gungnyeo quickly shifts her eyes back to her lap.
“Your Majesty,” the jimil sanggung intones. “The inspector has arrived with the physician.”
There is a terse murmur inside the king’s chambers, and a high-pitched male voice calls out, “You may enter.”
The two gungnyeos slide open the double doors, keeping their heads bent. The jimil sanggung bows deep from her waist, and we mimic her from three steps behind. I whisper what’s happening to Jihun—cueing him on when to bow and when to straighten—as though he really can’t see. The sanggung walks into the chambers with featherlight steps, her hands clasped lightly over her navel, and we follow her inside.
The King of Mountains sits behind a low wooden desk, with a shaking hand fisted on top of it. Despite the haggard lines of his face and the dark circles beneath his eyes, he is undoubtedly handsome in a bold, rugged way. I see Ethan in the strong lines of the king’s jaw and the dark arches of his eyebrows. But the cruel twist of the tyrant’s lips and the madness in his eyes shatters the illusion of any likeness between Ethan and his father.
Even in his private chambers, the king wears a forest green silk robe with large circular embroideries on each shoulder. I only catch a glimpse before I lower my eyes, but the gold threads seem to depict a roaring bear, rearing up on its hind legs.A bear?I’m tempted to glance up again, but Jihun tightens his grip on my arm in caution.
“Butlookat him, Your Majesty.” The shrill complaint comes from the male standing near the king’s side in a voluminous robe the color of dry bark. He must be the king’s eunuch. “He is no better than a peasant. A blind physician? Who has heard of such a thing?”
