NEFARIOUS

8 / 여덟

  A low creak echoed throughout Yoong Il's chamber. She blinked rapidly. The world surrounding her remained haze and strange, and her forehead pounded hard. The whole chamber was consumed by entire darkness, save for the moonlight shining upon on her balcony and the torchlight on either side of her bed.

  When Yoong Il gazed upon the old woman who stood near her doors, her chamber stilled, and all her senses came to her. The pounding vanished.

  "Jin," called Yoong Il. Her throat hurt badly, it almost choked herself from uttering more words. She really needed water.

  The old servant bowed. "Your Highness, forgive me for interrupting your slumber."

  Yoong Il blinked again. She looked through her balcony, at the darkness of the sky, confusion clouded her mind. Until realization pierced through her chest. "How long have I slept?"

  Jin strode toward her. A tray in her wrinkled hands became more visible under the faint lights. "Quiet long, Your Highness. It is almost midnight." The delectable smell of a fried egg and streamed vegetables were drowned between boiled rice and roasted beef. It filled into the air, and made Yoong Il's stomach growl in hunger.

  Yoong Il let out a weary sigh. "I missed my dinner."

  The old servant placed the bowl of goldongban with care atop her library books on the table. She did not move them aside. "Indeed, my lady. His Royal Highness wishes to let you rest."

  A frown deepened on Yoong Il's forehead. "The King?"

  Jin put another small bowl of rice cake on her main dish's side. "Yes. The King, my lady."

  Yoong Il should have expected this, but her skin turned frigid and her mind swirled in endless thoughts. The name itself was a deadly curse for her. When the King of Joseon cared for his daughter, it would either come with blood or some hidden purpose in mind. It was never a true affection, never a family love between father and daughter.

  She had to be really careful on her next steps. More cautious than before. Eyes of a monster were watching her in this palace, and she would tear them apart.

  The last item from Jin's tray was a tiny cup of sujeonggwa- a tasteful drink with sweet, tempting smell of ginger and cinnamon. The old servant did not place the cup along other bowls. Instead, she held it in strong grip and gave it to Yoong Il. "Your Highness?"

  Yoong Il took the cup slowly. She took a gulp. The sensation of sujeonggwa running through her throat eased her a little. "I thank you for such hospitality, Jin," said Yoong Il as she placed the cup on the table.

  Jin bowed, a tray in her grip. "There is nothing I would not do for you, Your Highness."

  As the old servant shifted toward the doors, Yoong Il called, "Jin." Jin stopped and turned around to face Yoong Il.

  "Would you mind giving me an accompany?" asked Yoong Il kindly. "I don't mind a refusal. I understand you must be weary after so many tasks in hand."

  A slow smile spread upon Jin's dried lips. "Of course, Your Highness. And no. I am not weary at all." She took a seat on Yoong Il's side.

  Yoong Il fully awoke in sitting position, her legs intertwined, a bowl of goldongban above them. "Have you eaten, Jin?" She quiered, snapping the chopsticks into two.

  "I have, Your Highness."

  Raising the roasted beef, Yoong Il took a small bite and chewed in almost utter silence. "Do you perhaps need to go into the river again?"