People in the kingdom whispered about a legend:
a man who is strong and powerful. They said he took up residence in the woods, hiding out while committing random acts of kindness, namely stealing from the rich and giving to the poor.
No one dared t...
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Luna
The next days passed swiftly, but not without their share of discoveries.
Jieun let me borrow some of her clothes, offering me a pair of boots that she proudly announced she'd stolen and a tunic that was loose enough to conceal my breasts. The garment stopped shifting once I tied a leather belt around my waist.
The more complicated part of the ensemble were the breeches. My fondness for wearing men's pants was immediate.
I relished the comfort of the timeworn garment, the freedom of moving without restriction, without layers of heavy skirts. I also seethed with jealousy that fate permitted men to dress like this every day.
However, leaving the tent was another matter. The breeches outlined my hips and legs to a mortifying degree.
I refused to come out of Jieun's tent until Jimin lost patience and carried me out to the cheers and whistles of the rest of the group.
Taehyung stopped clapping when he got a good look at my outfit. The expression on his face filled me with agitation, delight, fear.
Deciding what feeling mattered most proved too daunting a task, so I let them fuse together.
Outwardly, I did what I do best. I pretended not to care what he thought.
The following day, we rose at dawn to distribute the loot Taehyung's band had collected, including my ring.
I journeyed with them to the village, concealing myself in the bushes and watching as Taehyung moved deftly from house to house, flinging palm-sized sacks of coins and jewels toward the front door of every cottage.
It took hours, but the gleam of joy and gratitude on people's faces tapped into my heart, confirming an unfortunate truth.
Taehyung and his gang were good. They went about their business unlawfully, but their intentions were pure.
Betraying them would require betraying these cottagers. Imprisoning Taehyung Kim and his band would strip them of a necessary source of survival.
Could I go through with it? What would Seokjin do to Taehyung once he was locked in a cell?
The very thought of that boyish face battered and bruised and broken terrorized me in a way nothing ever had before.
