Chapter Ten Monika #3
Taranis looks at me with his mouth slightly parted. He cocks his head. “I could use a drink.”
“Okay, but lanterns next.” It’s my turn to clutch Taranis’s hand fiercely as I drag him toward the makgeolli-tasting station.
“Hello,” says the woman behind the bar dressed in a much less formal hanbok than the ambassador wears. “Have you tried traditional Korean rice wine before?”
“I love makgeolli—the sweeter, the better. We’d love to do a sampler.”
The woman seems surprised I know what makgeolli is, though the moment she looks at Taranis, I’m all but forgotten.
She overfills his glass, then curses, apologizes for the spill—or the cursing, I’m not sure which—and tries again, hand shaking until she manages to get two glasses filled of the syrupy, sweet liquid.
I thank her while Taranis gives her a rather scathing look, and grab him by the elbow, wheeling him around before he has a chance to ruin her night.
Then I clink our glasses, pulling his focus to me.
Gazes trained on each other, Taranis and I drink together.
It’s strange. I’m so overwhelmed by the rich tradition and the decadence of the place that I nearly forget that I hate the dude and that my real mission for the night is to backstab him—but first tteokbokki, spicy rice cakes.
I eat way more than my fitted dress can afford, but I’m determined to try everything. Including every possible station serving soju. I won’t lie, by the time we make it to the lantern station, I’m a little more than tipsy.
I blame the soju for why I giggle—giggle—as I watch Taranis try and fail to fold his lantern in the right way. “You’re not very good at this.”
He curses, glancing around to make sure no one but me hears him. “This is stupid.”
I hold up my lantern, perfectly constructed.
I’m onto the decorating phase now and have started to glue some of the cut-out shapes to the sides, mostly dragons.
I love dragons. “All the power in the world, and you can’t make a paper lantern.
Tsk, tsk. You know, in Jinju, the lantern-making station is set up mostly for children. ”
Taranis glares at me, his eyes flaring bright purple.
If he’s drunk, I can’t tell. Despite his evident annoyance, mostly with me and only when no one is looking, he’s been a fantastic sport about all this, smiling and signing autographs without so much as a grimace.
He’s even sampled everything I’ve offered him and participated in all the little games and activities.
“We should go through the Tunnel of Lights after this.”
“Sure. Whatever,” Taranis grunts, finally getting his lantern folded at the right seams. It still leans. “Ugfff,” he sighs dramatically.
“You’re such a drama queen.” He sneers but says nothing, and I can’t help but laugh. “Hey, did I thank you yet?”
He glances at me sharply. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No . . .” I start, a little surprised. “I mean, I was making fun of you before, but now I’m just saying thanks. You’ve been . . . really great here. Even if you are pretending about all of it.”
“I’m not pretending,” he hisses.
I scoff and say with soju-laced confidence, “You asked me earlier why I didn’t reply to your email with more enthusiasm?”
“Yes.”
“You said you were looking forward to tonight, but everything else about the way you present yourself to the world is a lie. Why would I believe you in an email?”
He makes a face, then settles it into something more neutral as another couple passes by to collect the materials needed to make lanterns of their own. I think I recognize the one man as a famous Korean actor, but I don’t get a good look as Taranis turns toward me and says, “I’m done with this.”
“Same. Let’s go put our lanterns on the lake.
” I pick up my lantern and watch him pick up his.
Because of the small size of the pond, all our lanterns are miniature, fitting neatly into the center of a palm.
It makes his look extra tiny, and I smirk as I crouch down at the edge of the water.
“Here. You’ll need this,” I tell him, handing him a little bamboo boat.
I set my boat in the water, set my electric candle in the center, and place my lantern over it. I push it out into the water.
I watch as he imitates my motions, looking strangely clumsy.
It’s endearing in ways I wish it wasn’t.
When he finally pushes his boat out into the water and stands, he offers me his hand.
I take it and let him help me up. Heat radiates between our bodies as he looks down at me sternly and I look up at him, still feeling a little drunk.
That must be why I’m suddenly not finding him so irritating.
He glances between my eyes, glaring. I smile.
“Do I have tteokbokki sauce on my face?” I wipe my lips, knowing that I need to reapply my lipstick.
I didn’t want to bring a purse, but the photographer in me couldn’t leave the house without my iPhone at least. Luckily, I brought a little extra makeup in my clutch too.
He doesn’t answer me, just continues to stare. He opens his mouth, but before he can speak, another voice cuts in: “Taranis, would you mind taking a picture?”
He’s stuck, staring at me another second before turning with a wide smile. It doesn’t match the downturn of his eyebrows at all. “Sure.”
They snap their shots and I grab Taranis’s hand. “Come on,” I tell him, “let’s go to the Tunnel of Lights. It’s meant to be very romantic, and if people think we’re having a moment, maybe they’ll leave you alone. We don’t have to stay much longer, I promise.”
I know it’s probably the alcohol and my overly relaxed state, but as I drag Taranis across the courtyard and watch him get attacked again and again by sycophants, the strangest feeling comes over me.
I try to remember that he was perfectly happy to let me be eaten by rats, but as I pull him through the Tunnel of Lights and watch the red lights reflect over his skin as he stares up in what looks like consternation but that I’m beginning to understand is his version of wonder, I start to feel . . . sorry for him.
And that makes me worry. Because my heart is beating harder than it should be, and in this moment, it doesn’t seem to care whether he’s a villain.