33. Iseul
Daehyun drew the veil lowerover my head, shrouding my face from the crowd bustling down Jongno Road. Still holding the sides, he peered down at me. “What are you thinking about?” he murmured.
I stared blankly up at him, mystified as to how my uncle could have died. I had seen him only the day before; he had traveled all the way to the abandoned hut. Then between that moment and the hour of his death, Nameless Flower had known of his whereabouts and had moved in for the kill.
“Why does it feel like Nameless Flower is taunting me?” I whispered.
“Does no one come to mind?” Daehyun proceeded to tie the veil ribbon, to secure the jangot from blowing away. “Anyone who might wish your uncle ill, perhaps someone from your past?”
“There is no one but my uncle, and he is dead now.”
“I am sorry for his passing—”
“Are you? I am not.” Then I frowned, uneasiness thrumming in my veins. “I wish I could continue investigating. I wish I could figure out who Nameless Flower is.”
“You may still put your mind to use even from within the temple.” His fingers brushed the underside of my chin, and when at last the ribbon was tied, he reached into his robe. A folded sheet of paper appeared. “It is Investigator Gu’s report. But do not read it just yet.” He slipped the document into the pouch by my waist. “You ought to focus on the task before you.”
I glanced past him, past the pedestrians, at the walled-in Wongaksa Temple, nestled under the distant silhouette of Mount Bugak. Guards were stationed around the compound, as though guarding the palace walls themselves. There truly was no other way to enter the temple but through the gate.
“The time is not yet,” Yul called out, crossing the road over to us. Then lowering her voice, she explained, “I managed to question one of the temple servants. The courtesans are not leaving for the Royal Academy yet. They are still being readied.” She glanced around, wiping the sweat from her brow. “I will try to strike a conversation with another servant, and once the women begin to line up, I will come find you. For now, you ought to keep out of sight, Iseul-ah. The guards might notice your dress.” She gestured somewhere off into the distance. “Wait inside that bookshop; it does not close until curfew.”
Exchanging a glance with Daehyun, we made our way over to the shop, crowded with customers browsing the shelves of stacked books. We stood among a group of scholars at the far end. As Daehyun picked up a book, so did I, and I stared at a page as my mind froze around my reality. I was going to enter Wongaksa Temple. I was going to tread into the den of a tiger, hoping the beast would not stir awake, inching my way around his bloody claws, around the skeletal remains of his prey. I was almost afraid to see what had become of Suyeon.
“You are shaking.”
I flinched at Daehyun’s sudden voice, my book dropping to the floor with a clatter.
“Have a care!” the shopkeeper called out, peering through the open shelves at us before disappearing into the back room.
Taking a calming breath, I finally looked around. The shop was empty, stained red in the dying light. When had the time so passed? I snatched up the book, gripping it tight. It was nearly time to leave. Nearly time to join the captives.
“It is not too late,” Daehyun whispered. “You can change your mind—”
“Don’t.” I stared at my white knuckles as his shadow draped around me. “You promised. Do not dissuade me.”
“Look at me.”
I did, and at first, all I could see was my own fear. The unknown that awaited me. The uncertainty of whether the rebellion would even succeed. But slowly, slowly, as the dust motes drifted through the rays of light, Daehyun came into focus—the dark slashes of his brows, the aquiline nose crooked ever so slightly to the right, and lips that had thinned into tense lines. For days this man had stationed himself outside my hut, to keep watch over me, and now I would be without him.
His hands held my elbows, and I realized I had leaned into him, my forehead pressed against his chest.
“I will not dissuade you. But whenever you are in need,” he whispered, his lips close to my ear, “do not hesitate to send a message my way. I will go to where you are, wherever that might be.”
I remained against him in such a manner, feeling his lips still close to me, his hands still gripping my elbows. His intoxicating nearness stirred awake emotions—a blend of dread at the thought of leaving him and the yearning to abandon my resolve. Without thinking, I turned to his warmth. My cheek caressed his, drifting until our lips touched, the kiss no more than a brush of heat, breaths intertwined. His fingers then held my chin, tilting my face upward, his gaze fixed on my lips as he pressed me against the bookcase. He leaned in to deepen his mouth over mine, but he wouldn’t. He could not. He pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of my lips instead, tasting me there, and then he moved away.
“You are too flushed,” his voice rasped. “The paint will melt.”
I raised my hand to examine the jibun on my face, but he caught my wrist.
“Avoid touching. Your makeup will smear, and I have known the king to punish women over the slightest smudge of rouge.”
Footsteps creaked into the bookshop. “They are already lining up,” Yul whispered, “sooner than I thought. We must leave now.”
Disorientation overtook me. My thoughts were a blur as I hurried alongside my two companions, but reality sharpened when we caught sight of the mob huddling alongside the street. They stared at the procession of beautiful women as though witnessing caskets of the murdered. A great weeping of sorrow and fury broke out. They reached past the crush of spears, reaching for their children. They were mothers and fathers who looked like my own, and there were sisters, too, bearing my own reflection.
“Move aside!” guards yelled, brandishing their weapons.
Heartbroken cries continued, rumbling through the marrow of my being.
“Now,” Yul whispered, her voice strained to breaking as she hastily untied the ribbon and pulled the veil off my head, “you must go now.”
I stepped forward, but Daehyun’s hand clung to mine, to the tips of my fingers, holding me to the very end when the current of my decision swept me away.
To Suyeon I would go.
To the girl I had once resented.
To the girl I had always loved.