A Crane Among Wolves

22. Daehyun

Daehyun held court in ashadowy chamber. Floor lanterns glowed, dancing on the shoulders of Official Choi, who sat kneeling in a posture of deference—a deference that was no more than courtesy.

“You know why I am here, daegam,” Official Choi said, his stare fixated on the low-legged table between them. “It is you, is it not, who sent her my way?”

Daehyun remained silent, watching as Official Choi slipped out a small object and set it down. A wooden piece from a janggi board with a red engraving. It was the king, and His Majesty ruled the center of the table.

“Why would you plant such a dangerous notion in her?” Official Choi asked, his voice tense. “And do not claim to know nothing. I am quite sure of your influence behind her outrageous words.”

Daehyun continued to examine the man before him. If the conversation spiraled in the wrong direction, he could easily bury it—along with the official’s body. There was nothing to fear, yet dread coiled tight in his chest. He did not wish to harm the old man, if only because he was Iseul’s uncle. She had lost more than enough family for one lifetime. “And I am sure that you will die if you do not join the cause.”

The corner of Official Choi’s lips twitched. “You are blackmailing me? That is unwise of you, I think.”

“Not blackmail. A promise, for a rebellion will happen. It is inevitable, and when that day arrives, there is no guarantee you will not be mistaken for a king supporter and killed.”

Official Choi remained still for a while, his lashes lowered, his cheeks pale. “I am curious…,” he said, flicking up the barest glance. “You say such a day is inevitable, daegam, yet for two years government officials have chosen self-preservation. They have chosen to wear those humiliating shineonpae plaques demanding their silence. Why would they change their minds now and risk their lives? I think even one’s beliefs and values collapse under the weight of fear.”

“The times are different now.”

“Is it, indeed?”

“For two years the powerful and wealthy kept silent, for they felt removed from the king’s treachery. But then the king decided to tax yangban aristocrats on their property and riches. Now, rumors are flooding in from all corners of the kingdom of disgruntled officials, as well as rumors of those planning coups. That is what has changed.”

Official Choi remained tense, his expression guarded.

“It is clear that a catastrophe will happen soon,” Daehyun pressed on. “The heavens have abandoned the king. It is time we abandon him, too.”

“And whom would you place on the throne next?” he asked testily, suddenly taking on the air of a schoolmaster. “Yourself?”

“Grand Prince Jinseong. To place him on the throne would cause the least amount of contention, since he is already next in line.”

Official Choi’s gaze remained lowered, but this time Daehyun noticed something else. Under the man’s lowered lashes, his pupils were shifting across the table as though he were carefully reading all the pieces on an invisible janggi board. He is calculating the rewards and risks, Daehyun realized. Official Choi was evaluating the possibility of a coup’s victory, whether it was high enough to offset the dire consequence of failing.

“I have no army to mobilize,” Daehyun said slowly, “but I know of one who does. Deputy Commander Park—your close friend, I believe.”

“Park Won Jong?” Choi frowned. “He is the king’s closest aide.”

“More important, he is the brother of Lady Seungpyeong, who died by suicide.”

“That is hearsay.”

“She was impregnated by the king.”

“I… I did hear rumors once, long ago. So she was indeed seduced—”

“Raped,” Daehyun corrected.

Official Choi cleared his throat loudly, his discomfort clear. “It is all hearsay.”

“You will find evidence of the crime in the Draft History. The chroniclers are officials with legal guarantees of independence. They have no reason to lie about the rape and pregnancy.”

“Recorded for the ages…” Official Choi’s voice trembled. “I had so wanted to believe it was mere gossip. Lady Seungpyeong was like a sister to me, too.”

Daehyun balled his hand into a fist, to still the tremors. If he could not sway the man now, he feared he never would. “I wonder how your friend, Deputy Commander Park, would feel should he learn the truth behind his sister’s death.”

A storm gathered on Official Choi’s brow. “Park Won Jong has deep connections to the military, but even if he raises up an army, it would still be greatly outnumbered. The king has over forty thousand soldiers in the capital alone.”

“There is something else you ought to know,” Daehyun said. “The king will be leaving for Kaesong City on the eighteenth of next month, and whenever His Majesty travels, he takes with him a large entourage. The capital will, therefore, be empty.”

Official Choi shook his head. “The eighteenth is too soon. And even so, we would still be outnumbered.” He heaved a deep sigh, and he set his hands on the ground, about to rise. “The probability of victory is too low. I cannot and will not take part in this—”

“Wait.”

“Daegam, it is best that I leave—”

“Royal Guard Min Hyukjin once told me…” Daehyun gritted his teeth as grief unlocked itself. The shadow of Hyukjin’s feet dangled in his mind. “He once told me about a conversation with the royal guards. He told me their hearts left the king long ago.” His damned voice wavered, and he closed his eyes, waiting for indifference to seal every entryway into his heart.

“What are you telling me, daegam?”

Numbness returned at last, and his voice steadied. “The king may have forty thousand soldiers. But a sword that has lost its heart for its master becomes but a useless object.”

Official Choi blinked, blinked again, then an illuminating spark filled his eyes. “You are right,” he whispered eagerly. “I have seen it each time I visited the palace. Hearts have indeed left the king.” He reached out with a trembling hand and turned over the red king. “I will help you, daegam.” Liquid fire pooled the gaze that met Daehyun’s. “Let us move the heavens together.”