A Crane Among Wolves

25. Iseul

“You are certain your uncleinvited you?”

“Yes,” I lied. “He sent me a message saying so.”

Wonsik cast me a wary glance, then continued on.

I hurried after him, the swordsman of enormous stature, yet his expression ever reminded me of a mother hen. He had adopted into his circle of care all these feral children, but today it was not myself or Daehyun or Yul he was worrying about. It was his own son. For the past week, he had tailed Gunwu—or as I knew him better, Royal Guard Crow—and I had accompanied him, on occasion. Each time I had followed, I had watched Crow’s black hair appear greasier, his face paler, as though something on his conscience drained him of blood. We had observed him drag his feet out of his home in the mornings, had watched as he stood lifelessly guarding the palace gate. Once, at night, he had even traveled all the way to the Red Lantern Inn, lingering outside the yard for a couple of hours.

“Yul told me a few days ago,” Wonsik murmured, “that her customers have been complaining of a dark figure stalking them, lurking about the inn. I wonder if it is him…”

I still could not wrap my mind around how different the son could be from his own father…

“A week has passed,” I said, choosing to voice other thoughts. “Nothing has occurred. What if we arrive only to find the room empty? What if no government official wishes to take part?”

“We will have to see,” Wonsik replied, his voice low. “Your uncle and the prince agreed that no correspondence should be exchanged in the meanwhile lest the king take notice, so I am unsure of how things are progressing. We will find out at the House.”

“And why, precisely, are the men gathering at an entertainment house? There are so many eyes.”

“It is the one place government officials can meet in groups and not garner any suspicion. For what else do men do here but come for drinks and entertainment?”

“What else indeed,” I mumbled.

As we continued along the path toward the House of Bright Flowers, we took a long detour and paused before a drama being performed.

“Only a quick glimpse,” Wonsik said, “and then we must leave.”

The players had to shout through the masks to drown out the noise of the bonfire lighting the scene. The performance told the story of a king from a faraway land who had stolen his uncle’s wife—clearly a reference to King Yeonsan and Lady Seungpyeong.

“This is the play Prince Daehyun commissioned?” I whispered to Wonsik.

“It is. Yeongho and his troupe have been performing it in different villages since yesterday, and it is already causing quite the stir.” He glanced at me. “Come, we must not be late.”

“I hope the play ignites hearts. I truly hope the populace will stand up to him.” My voice wavered with a mix of hope and agitation as we entered the capital. “Perhaps I will have my old life back, if all goes well. Perhaps I will marry the son of a government official, after all. That is what Father always wanted of me.”

After a prolonged silence, when I assumed our conversation was over, Wonsik suddenly asked, “And do you wish to be arranged?”

“Arranged?”

“In marriage.”

“What young person wishes it? But it is of utmost importance that I align myself with a powerful family,” I said, though I felt strangely indifferent to the notion. “It is of utmost importance and yet…” I shook my head.

“Is it so important to you? Why not marry someone you love?”

I crinkled my nose as I looked up at him. “You are far too sentimental, ajusshi.”

He shrugged a large shoulder. “When I was your age, I was a rock. I never shed a tear.”

“You have indeed changed.”

“I became—as Yul likes to call me—an old fart.” He spoke with a dignified grimness. “I became old, and I realized power cannot protect us from the greed and wrath of others—and it will not protect us from ourselves. Marry for power, and it will only entangle you deeper in the web of treachery. You will be far happier if you choose the simple life among the mountains and waters. Peace of mind is the most precious gift. And speaking of mountains and water…” He glanced around. “When this is all over, we shall continue our investigation in Jangheung County.”

“We are leaving the capital?”

“Not yet. The Great Event might occur too soon for me to find the killer in time. And, should we be alive at the end of it, a trip there might illuminate the case for us. Until then, we must take caution—whom we trust in particular.”

His lecture trailed off as we arrived before the House of Bright Flowers, an impressive establishment standing at the foot of a mountain. Hanging lanterns glowed like fallen stars, spilling golden light onto crowds of men in luxurious robes and gisaengs in dresses befitting celestial maidens.

A familiar figure shouldered his way through the crowd, halting before us. My heart turned to ice. It was the investigator who served in the State Tribunal—the bureau that had carried out my parents’ executions.

“Sir,” Investigator Gu said, but his stare was on me. “What brings you here?”

“My eyes still serve me well. I recognized you at once from afar, Gu Jinyoung. We are here following Nameless Flower’s trail,” Wonsik lied.

“Why, precisely, are you chasing this killer?”

“I was loyal to the king two years ago, and I am loyal yet,” Wonsik continued to lie. “I will not stand for a killer who slanders the king.”

A look of disbelief weighed the investigator’s brows.

“Is that what brings you here, too?” Wonsik asked.

“You wish to see whether the gisaengs know anything about Young Master Baek’s death? The young master did frequent this house, but I questioned the gisaengs ages ago. They know nothing.”

“I would like to question them for myself—”

“As I said to you yesterday, you waste your time, sir.”

Yesterday? I glanced at Wonsik. There was a moment in the evening when he had left the inn without telling anyone. Without telling me…

“But,” the inspector continued, “what concern is it of mine how you conduct your investigations… or with whom you choose to investigate?” He cast one last look at me, then strode away. I watched him disappear down the shadowy road.

“That is Investigator Gu of the State Tribunal,” Wonsik explained. “You may have seen him at the scene of Hyukjin’s death.”

“I do recall him,” I whispered, and realized my voice was shaking. How easily I could end up arrested, sent into exile, if a man like Investigator Gu realized who I was. I took in a deep, calming breath. “What kind of man was he, the investigator?”

“I was his mentor once.” Wonsik urged me forward. “Over the years, he proved himself to be a good and just investigator when he believed the king was benevolent. But when the king became a tyrant, he, too, became corrupt. He wants good for the people but is more interested in protecting his honor and his reputation and his family. Hence why he continues to punish traitors when I know, deep inside, he is against many of the king’s policies.”

Should I tell him? Hesitation writhed in me, then I finally confessed. “Do you know why I am alone? Why I have been without parents for two years?”

Wonsik glanced at me. “I imagine some horrible tragedy befell you and your family. I imagine it has something to do with the purge of 1504.”

“How do you know that?” I whispered.

“We all know what occurred in 1504. And for a young woman like yourself, from a powerful family, to have fallen so low—it could only be the king’s doing.”

I gritted my teeth. “It was all the king’s doing.”

He placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Iseul-ah, we will discuss this at length afterward, when there is no risk of being overheard.”

I nodded, my heart melting under his gaze, so warm and full of compassion. “We should hurry, ajusshi,” I said, trying to compose myself. “We are already late.”

We made our way into the establishment, and a servant led us down the crowded hall, where the shadows were so deep I could not make out any faces. One gentleman stumbled my way, and I ducked to avoid his liquor bottle; I quickly stepped aside to avoid another drunkard, only to brush up against someone behind me. I whirled around and found myself wrapped in the fragrance of musk and smoked incense.

“You ought to have more care, my lady.”

I looked up at the prince. Lantern light warmed his eyes and softened the sharp angles of his face. I had not seen him in seven days.

“I knew you would come,” he said.

I held his unwavering gaze. “How so, daegam?”

“Because your uncle told you not to.” A muscle worked in his cheek as if he were fighting a smile. “When have you ever followed orders, my lady?”

I gave his chest a gentle shove, then stepped around him. “You seem to be in good spirits.”

“Of course. Things are coming together,” he said.

We proceeded down the hall, and a beautiful gisaeng paused to greet the prince. They both exchanged long, knowing stares, and I felt a painful knot form deep within my chest.

“She is his informant, and a friend of Yul’s,” Wonsik whispered to me, as though reading me. “Nothing more.”

I tried to hide my relief with a scoff, and there was no time to examine my feelings as we had arrived at the farthest end of the house. A pair of fierce manservants guarded the latticed doors.

“Patrol the hall for suspicious characters,” Daehyun said to Wonsik as the double doors slid open for us. “Alert me at once if you find any.”

“I shall, daegam.”

I followed the prince in, and my pulse leaped to see a crowded room. A dozen or so important-looking men sat before a long table, staring at us, among whom was my uncle; he looked mortified by the sight of me. He cleared his throat, then mumbled, “That is my niece. The one I told you all about, gentlemen.”

Murmurs rose around me, and a few nodded, as though in approval.

My pulse quickened as I sat before the table, next to the prince. I hadn’t thought I would care so much about matters of the kingdom, but perhaps I did, and here I was in the presence of men who could move the heavens and fight for the people. For those like my sister.

Daehyun leaned in to whisper, “That is Official Shin Yun Mu. And to his side, Lord Seong Hui Ahn, Ryu Sun-jeong…” He went on, listing names, but I could not tell who was who. They all looked the same: at least three times older than me and a thousand times more powerful.

“I am glad we have all met today.” The gentleman who spoke sat at the head of the table. His beard was thick and black, his brows dark and heavy. According to the prince, it was Deputy Commander Park, the one most capable of overthrowing the king. “We are friends but were too cautious to express our innermost thoughts that have plagued us day and night. It is time to end this reign of treachery and place the king’s successor on the throne—the benevolent Grand Prince Jinseong.”

Another gentleman spoke, and his voice wavered with emotion. “I, too, have thought of little else. I believe this coup will succeed because of you, Deputy Commander. I told Official Choi that I would join only once he confirmed your stance. I am relieved to see you here.”

“With the deputy commander spearheading this great cause, we will surely succeed,” my uncle said. “The central government is now filled with resentful officials ready to betray, and it is clear that a catastrophe will happen soon. We must, therefore, move quickly before others revolt, for if we are not first, we might be swept away as suspected sympathizers of the king.”

The officials sat straighter, and a murmur of voices coalesced in agreement.

“Since we have lived our whole lives in loyalty,” Deputy Commander Park continued, “we ought to give our lives for our country. We must ensure that we never repeat this history of placing a tyrant on the throne and strive together to distribute the power so not one of us will be stronger than all, which—as we have seen—results in this devastation.”

I gripped my skirt tight, feeling the beaming rays of hope. A bright future seemed within our reach.

“And the king’s courtesans?” The question slipped out of me. All eyes turned. “What will become of them?” I clarified. “Will they be returned to their homes, their families?”

Uncle cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “A young lady ought not to speak when the elders are speaking.”

The deputy commander raised his hand. “Let me give her an answer. I promise you that—”

The double doors slid open, and a new gentleman walked in. “Excuse me for my tardiness,” came his voice, quiet and scratchy.

“Ah, Official Wu. Here at last. Come, sit down.”

The man’s face took form as he stepped into the glow of the floor lanterns, and at once, all the sounds and sensations faded into the background, as if it were only he and I who occupied the space. He was tall and remarkably thin, with hollow cheeks, very long fingers that rose to greet officials, and skin as pale as white worms. I felt ill.

“Maggot.”

“Who?” the prince whispered.

Maggot stared back at me.

The deputy commander’s voice seemed to blur, dreamlike, weaving in and out of my hearing. “My relative, General Park, is stationed at a military camp in Suwon. I visited him a few days ago… We have carefully evaluated our chances of success… Of utmost importance is seizing the opportunity… One has arrived.”

His voice garbled on as cold sweat drenched my face. Each time I glanced at Maggot, I caught him staring at me, and I could not erase from my mind the repulsive manner in which he had spoken to my sister.

Unable to bear his presence a moment longer, I slipped away from the prince’s side and hurried out.