Chapter 2
Seol-yun took out the herbs she had hidden in her sleeve and crushed the dried leaves. Mixing in the powder known only to her and adding evening primrose oil to make the mixture easier to form, she shaped a single, round medicinal pill.
“Jinwang will need to keep relying on me…”
To leave the Sichuan Tang Clan and annul her marriage, she had used Jinwang. Had fate truly favored her in allowing her to recognize him, even while he attended as a bodyguard for the caravan leader, his identity concealed? At that time, only Seol-yun and those close to him knew that the man who would later lead the Choryeong Kingdom to war and victory was not only young but also strikingly handsome.
She had threatened him under the pretext of administering poison that would require a month of antidotes, but in truth, Seol-yun had only used a mild paralytic. The pills she prepared daily were nothing more than bitter tonics with astragalus, meant to strengthen the body.
“To avoid suspicion, I’ve powdered all the ingredients whenever I had the chance. This should buy me some time.”
Holding the pill as if it were precious, she carried it on a wooden tray, and the subordinate guarding Jinwang’s tent cleared the way for her. His expression darkened as he checked a piece of paper, perhaps carrying unwelcome news. By the flickering candlelight, Jinwang’s furrowed face seemed almost otherworldly in its perfection. Were rulership of lands determined solely by appearance, Jinwang could command the world beneath his feet.
“Sit. I have something to discuss.”
Aside from the low, narrow bench, there was nowhere else to sit in his tent. Though her body felt heavy as lead, she hesitated to approach him. With Jinwang, whose thoughts were unreadable, every word and gesture required caution.
“I’m more comfortable standing.”
“Sit. There’s nothing to gain by irritating me.”
Seol-yun exhaled quietly and approached to sit beside him. On the low bed-like seat near the desk—suitable for checking scrolls or resting if needed—she placed the pill beside her. The bench, seemingly made of high-quality jujube wood coated with multiple layers of lacquer, felt solid yet comforting under her touch.
“Drink some tea. We’ll conclude this in a quarter of an hour.”
Even in the midst of the desert, Jinwang appeared to be reviewing reports. Tiny, palm-sized sheets of paper were densely filled with messy characters. Seol-yun watched him silently from the side. The way he rubbed his solar plexus with his thumb to ease a headache, then lifted his brush to reply, was elegant and dignified.
Once a concubine who became the official wife.
Her husband, who had been close to his half-sister.
And his half-sister, Dang Chae-ryeong.
Jinwang was rude, but harmless.
Seol-yun valued him for not interfering in her death. Passive observation was not a sin. He did not assist her in following him, but he did not drive her away either. As long as she reached his quarters that day, he would accept her, and that alone gave her a glimmer of hope—a joy in simply surviving one more day, a thrill toward revenge.
“We will soon reach the Western Regions.”
Folding the last letter carefully, he blinked sleepily, then continued.
“Many will judge and act against you because of me. The respect and reverence the Sichuan Tang Clan once afforded you no longer apply. Will you come with me regardless?”
Judgment and interference (sibi).
Her status, once significant, was now trivial. Jinwang was subtly probing her willingness as they approached the Western Regions. Could she handle tailoring clothes, doing laundry, sweeping and dusting the mansion?
“You’ve never done it before, so if you wish, I can leave the antidote behind for you. I’ll assign a few subordinates to accompany you on the way back.”
“I will not go back.”
She bit her inner cheek to hide the tremor in her voice and demanded in desperation that he honor his promise.
“You said you would protect me safely.”
“I did—until we reach the Western Regions.”
Raising an eyebrow playfully, he treated her as if the stakes were inconsequential, unlike her, who risked her life.
“I’ve given you a sharp knife to avoid being devoured by wolves, water to prevent dehydration, and meals when needed. Was that not enough? Ah, I even prepared a place to sleep.”
Seol-yun glared at him with all her strength as he twisted his mouth mockingly.
“Looking at it now, it seems I may have lost in this bargain. Shall we recalculate?”
“Th-that’s…”
She pointed to the pill with her index finger. Rolling her lips, she reminded him that the antidote had to be taken daily for a full month to be effective.
“Being useful in cleaning and watering the plants will matter more than serving as a subordinate. If you want me as an apothecary, I will gladly comply. If there are difficulties in setting up facilities, I can assist. And—”
Jinwang cut her off before she could fumble further.
“Who says you get to decide what is useful?”
“Huh?”
Tension flickered in her wide, dark eyes. He quickly noted the stiffness in her shoulders and the cold sweat forming on her brow. Though she was now dusty, provided only minimal water, Jinwang knew how pristine and delicate she had appeared in her red wedding attire before it was torn.
“Damn it.”
Perhaps it was relief at nearing his territory. Seeing her look him directly in the eyes, a physical response stirred within him. The audacity in her rabbit-like eyes, asking to be an apothecary, amused him. Jinwang tilted his head and spoke.
“If you truly wish to show your usefulness, strip.”
“Your Majesty!”
“In my presence, you are just a woman. If you want to be of help, be a woman, not the Sichuan Tang Clan’s heir or an apothecary.”
The icy tone sent chills down Seol-yun’s spine.
His abyss-like black eyes betrayed the fact that this was no jest. She clenched her teeth until her lower lip turned white.
His harsh, cold curiosity was a poison.
The man’s brazen teasing, unlike anything the Clan’s heir had ever endured, made her frown.
As she bit her lower lip, Jinwang gently pushed her shoulder back. Hitting the hard bench, she startled and lifted her torso.
“What are you doing, Your Majesty?”
At her sharp outcry, he replied without hesitation that if she approached as a woman, he would protect her.
“There are plenty of apothecaries in the palace. Show the delicate flesh of your wrists and utter a faint whimper. That will excite me more than your attempts to construct facilities with those tiny hands.”
Her slightly swollen lips, chewed raw from anxiety, seemed enticing. As he lowered his head, his obsidian-like eyes locking with hers, a faint smile curved her lips. Interpreting it as consent, Jinwang wrapped his arm around her slender waist.
“This is my answer.”
Then.
Seol-yun tore a piece of grass from the table and chewed it, quickly adding powdered herbs from the bundle she had hidden in her sleeve. Her face turned pale.
“What did you swallow?”
Jinwang hastily pried her jaw open with thumb and forefinger, but there was nothing inside. Smiling, Seol-yun silently conveyed her resolve: if he did not yield, she would find a way to make him uneasy. As expected, Jinwang furrowed his brow, quietly annoyed.
“Spit it out. Immediately.”
Mixed with Banhwa, the grass she had prepared would slowly numb him from tongue to fingertips if swallowed. She relied on her knowledge of medicinal herbs as the Sichuan Tang Clan’s heir to stop him.
“Ah!”
He tried to shove his thick fingers to her throat, but Seol-yun twisted away from his grasp. Gasping as the herbs reached her throat, she added:
“If I die, Your Majesty, your plans will be difficult to achieve. For the next twenty-six days… ha… you must take the antidote I’ve prepared. So…”
Lowering himself, Jinwang brought his ear close to her lips. Pale and drained, Seol-yun whispered with remarkable composure:
“…protect me, Your Majesty.”
With that barely audible plea, she closed her eyes. The low, growling voice, occasionally cursing, haunted her. Exhausted, her consciousness plunged into an endless abyss.
