45. Iseul
Maggot died in early spring,found in a pool of his own blood. Assassinated, surely, by the same dissatisfied officials who had attempted to remove Deputy Commander Park and other coup leaders from office. His death reached Suyeon and me as a ray of light.
With Maggot gone, we returned to the Red Lantern, where Suyeon reunited with other former courtesans, blossoming in the presence of her friends. She seemed to enjoy the work of running an inn with them—together, always together.
The work was overwhelming, and thus a good distraction for us all. With new travelers pouring in every day, I hardly noticed the passing seasons. One moment, there would be green buds shooting up through the snow, and the next, plum blossoms would be fluttering down from branches. Another blink, and I would realize that the time of the year had returned when red leaves would blow into the innyard no matter how frequently I swept, and when the women grew morose.
Chuseok was the festival we most dreaded—seeing the villagers leave for their hometowns to spend time with their families, to cook and eat in celebration of the autumn harvest. Families like the ones we no longer had.
“Why has the Red Lantern turned into a funeral?” Yul said, gathering the dispirited women in the yard. She waved a soup ladle as though it were her sword. “As Wonsik-samchon once told me: Life has been and will always be painful and lonely, and the only way to make this life endurable is that we all work together, for each other. You may have lost your old home, but you have a new home, and we shall celebrate this autumn harvest like everyone else!”
And with that, Yul presented to us an idea that left us all brimming with excitement. We would prepare a lavish feast, just for ourselves.
We poured what little we had—every coin, every warm memory, every longing—into the ingredients we amassed on the week of the festival. We laughed and cried while preparing rice cakes shaped into half-moons, filled with red bean paste, steamed to perfection. By Chuseok morning, we had prepared a feast that tasted of home—bowls of fluffy white rice, boiled fish, radish soup, kimchi and potato fritters, pickled cucumbers decorated with finely sliced ginger.
We all sat around our tables as distinguished guests, and we feasted until our stomachs and hearts were full to bursting.
Unable to stop smiling, I walked into the dark kitchen with two loaded trays. My spirit had never felt so buoyant; my face still ached from smiling and laughing. “This is the last of it, Cheonbi-yah.”
Cheonbi was crouched before a basin full of dirty water and bowls. “Set it down here.” She let out a great yawn, then shook her head. “Oh gods, I can barely keep my eyes open. I will clean the rest at first light.” She rose to her feet, mumbling, “You ought to rest, too.”
I massaged my aching arms as I followed her out, then paused to take in my surroundings. The midnight hour was illuminated by globes of lantern light. A few of the women lay curled on the raised platform, slumbering under the starry sky. The usual hard lines of their faces had smoothed out tonight. I tiptoed past Suyeon and Yul. They sat leaning against each other, whispering and quietly laughing among themselves.
A yawn escaped me as I approached my room. Footsteps creaked from within. Cheonbi must have found her way into the wrong quarters again.
“Cheonbi-yah,” I said, sliding open the door, “this is not your—”
My pulse leaped, convinced I was staring at a ghost. The tall, young man before me, his face paler than pale, appearing almost translucent in the lantern light. “Gods.” I placed a hand over my thundering heart, now easing at the sight of Crow. “What are you doing here?”
“Nothing.” Silver glinted, then disappeared into Crow’s fist. “I—I should leave.”
“Where were you last month?” I asked. “If you were here, you could have frightened away the deputy commander. He tried to arrest me, perhaps to interrogate me over Maggot’s death. And if it were not for Investigator Gu, I suspect I would have been tortured—”
“I should go,” he murmured once more, and tried to shove the silver into a pouch, but it slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a metallic ping. He glanced around frantically. “Damn it, where did it go?”
The silver came rolling to my feet. It was a double ring, tied with a red string. Picking it up, I smirked. “Have you finally found yourself a sweetheart—”
There was a flower engraved into the silver.
A flower with five petals.
Just like Mother’s.
I rushed the ring to the lantern light, uneasiness prickling my spine. Inscribed inside the first ring was the name Kim Jungim, and in the second, Hwang Heejae. Shaking my head, I brought it closer to the light, my whole body shaking. Perhaps I was imagining the inscription. I had to be.
“How could…” My breathing shallowed, my chest constricting, for the names of my parents remained. “I gave it to him. It was with him. He had it…” Fog seeped into my skull, clouding my mind, and my world swayed back to a year ago. I was on my knees, staring at the trail of his blood, disappearing over the cliffside. My ears filled with the terrifying noise of the devouring river, the sound that kept me up most nights.
I sucked in air, but my lungs would not fill. My head grew light. “Where did you get this?” I barely managed to ask.
Crow ran a hand over his face, then shook his head. “It is better you not know—”
“Answer me!” I cried. “Where did you get this ring?”
Footsteps rushed in, and soon Yul and Suyeon stood next to me. They were speaking to me, but the river roared too loud in my ears to hear.
“As you must have heard, Yeongho’s corpse was found a while back…” Crow’s voice was muffled, bits and pieces reaching me through the noise in my head. “We all thought Daehyun-gun would be found in that area… The police finally found him farther down recently… A fisherman had buried… thought it would be best to return it to you.”
I placed a hand over my stomach, feeling sick. On and off throughout the year, I had clung to an impossible hope. A hope that would have me racing through the market, convinced I had glimpsed him, only to find myself accosting a stranger.
“I apologize for being the bearer of such sad news,” Crow whispered, running a hand over his haggard face. “I had hoped you’d never find out, but perhaps this is for the best. We shall give him a proper burial. A place to rest your heart upon.”
One by one, the memories of the prince fluttered awake, like candle flames in the darkness of my thoughts—his half smiles, his quiet acts of kindness, his warm hands that had steadied me throughout, and his voice. I had missed his voice the most; deep and melodic, especially when he would call my name: Iseul-ah. No one had ever uttered my name with such intimacy, as if it were a secret meant for us only.
Pain tightened my throat as those cherished memories, carefully guarded over the months, now vanished, leaving only a curl of smoke. “H-he is dead,” I stuttered, my heart writhing in pain, “he is dead—”
“He has been dead for a year,” Crow reminded me cautiously.
I shook my head. “I still can’t comprehend it, even now,” my voice trembled as I stared down at the ring, “that he is truly gone…”
Wonsik’s steady voice echoed in my head. Focus yourself on the details.
Though my heart still twisted in pain, and my hands still shook, I nevertheless raised the ring before my eyes.
Focus on what is true. Do not be swept away by feelings.
I turned the ring, then a thought glinted into my mind. “I gave the ring to Daehyun-gun.” My voice rasped, and slowly, a frown knitted across my brow. “We were wary of you up until the day of the coup. Why would the prince suddenly confide in you?”
“I’m… I’m not sure what you mean.”
“How would you know this ring belongs to me,” my voice sharpened, “unless he told you so, and after the coup?” The moment I uttered those words, a horrible thought descended, and the ring felt like ice in my palm. “He is still alive, isn’t he. And he ordered you to play along.”
Crow mumbled, then made for the door. At once, Older Sister blocked his path.
“Why do you have this ring?” I demanded. “Why has he suddenly ordered you to return it?”
“I told the prince I was a horrible liar…” Crow played nervously with a loose thread from his sleeve. “He will be leaving soon, traveling somewhere far away, and thus he wished to return the ring to you.”
A cold detachment settled over me. I almost felt as though I were inquiring about a stranger. “And where is the prince now?”
“Speak!” Older Sister snapped.
“I do not know where, at the moment. He has been moving from province to province to evade arrest. But I do know where he will be in thirteen days.”
“Where,” I whispered, my voice cold and unforgiving.