Chapter 10: The Husband

Damn it.

First thought in my head? Not Yeon-hee. Not the system. Not my 3% of refined yin.

Elder Gu’s face.

That purple, shaking face in the doorway. And my father, two hours later, not even raising his voice. Until I say otherwise.

One angry husband already took my clan. If this inn found out I was going through the wives one by one, I’d be out on the street before the morning porridge was cold. And this time there’d be no Tae-man with a cheap inn to send me to.

"How does he know my name?" I hissed.

Yeon-hee was already out of the water, grabbing her robe, hands shaking so hard she couldn’t find the sleeves.

"The laundry ladies," Seo-rin said through the gate. "They’ve been telling everyone since yesterday that the Baek boy got stuck on the back stairs in the dark with the physician. For an hour. It’s the funniest thing that’s happened in this building all year."

Shit. The gossip. Of course it was the gossip.

"He doesn’t know anything," Seo-rin went on. "Yet. He came home early. Spring inspections got cancelled. He found the house empty and the bed cold, and he walked straight here."

Yeon-hee finally got the robe on. Inside out. Again.

She looked at me. Eyes huge. Lips still swollen.

"Mu-jin, what do I—"

"You slept in my room," Seo-rin said.

We both turned toward the gate.

"You came to me last night after your mother’s," Seo-rin said, very calm. "I was in a bad mood. I didn’t want to be alone. You stayed with me. We drank plum wine and complained about men until we fell asleep. That’s the story. Say it back."

Yeon-hee swallowed. "I... slept in your room. Plum wine. Complaining about men."

"Good. You’ll wash your face at my basin, change into one of my robes, and walk down with me. Baek Mu-jin waits here and comes down the long way, by the kitchen, in a quarter hour."

Clack.

"That," she added, "goes in the book."

Of course it does.

Yeon-hee grabbed my hand. Squeezed it so hard my bones creaked. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to.

Then she was out the gate, and I heard their footsteps going down the hill. Two women. One very calm. One trying very hard not to cry.

I sat on the rock in the steam, alone, with my robe floating somewhere in the spring and my dick finally — finally — calm.

Fear works better than cold water.

I came down the long way, through the back of the kitchen hall, smelling like mint and minerals, hair still wet.

And walked straight into him.

I knew it was him the second I saw him. Thin. Pale. Stooped like a question mark from twenty years of bending over desks. Ink stains on his fingers. Black official’s cap a little crooked. A rolled-up ledger under one arm, even now. Even here.

This was the man who hadn’t touched Yeon-hee in five months.

I looked at him and thought, Yeah. Okay. That tracks.

He looked at me and blinked.

"You’re... Baek Mu-jin? The Baek boy?"

My whole body went tight. Third-rate qi. Strong legs. Kitchen door three steps behind me. I could run. I’m good at running.

"...Yes?"

He stepped forward. Took my hand in both of his ink-stained ones.

And shook it.

"Thank you," he said.

I stared at him.

"The porter told me," he said. "And those laundry women. You were trapped on the stairs with my wife in the dark yesterday. She’s terrified of the dark — has been since she was a little girl. They said you kept her calm the whole time." He shook my hand again. Harder. "I’m not around enough. I know I’m not. It’s good to know someone looked after her."

I couldn’t breathe.

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to die. I wanted to crawl inside the kitchen stove.

"...No problem," I said. "Happy to. Uh. Help."

Over his shoulder, in the courtyard, Yeon-hee was standing next to Seo-rin in a borrowed gray robe, face washed, hair tied up neat. She’d heard every word.

She looked at the ground. Her ears were bright red.

Seo-rin, next to her, looked at me over the top of her ledger. Her face didn’t move. Not one muscle.

But her eyes were laughing their ass off.

"Well!" Clerk Seo let go of my hand and checked the sky. "I only came back for clean robes. The magistrate’s moved the inspections to the south district. I leave again at noon. Two more nights, I’m afraid, dear."

"Oh," Yeon-hee said faintly. "That’s... too bad."

He kissed her forehead — quick, dry, the way you’d stamp a document — and went off toward the front gate, already unrolling his ledger.

Yeon-hee walked past me on her way to follow him.

She didn’t stop. She didn’t look at me. But when she was right next to me, her fingers brushed the back of my hand.

"Tomorrow night," she whispered. "Your room. No gates. No gossip. No interruptions."

"I’ll be there."

"I know you will." A tiny smile. "I took your pulse."

Then she was gone after her husband.

I stood in the courtyard feeling like I’d swallowed a live eel.

Clack.

Seo-rin was next to me. I hadn’t heard her move.

"He thanked you," she said.

"He thanked me."

"For looking after his wife."

"...Yeah."

She made a small noise in her throat. It took me a second to realize it was a laugh.

"That," she said, walking away, "goes in the book in red ink."

I went up the front stairs to my room like a zombie. My plan was simple. Fall face-first on my bed, sleep until noon, and never think about Clerk Seo’s ink-stained hands again.

Then I remembered.

The scroll presentation.

This morning. At the academy. The Three Willows Formation, with my name back on it — if Madam Gwak kept her word.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

I was fumbling with my door when the one next to it slid open.

Ayla.

White dress. The thin one. Hair loose and wild like she’d been tossing all night. Barefoot. And she did not look happy.

[Target Detected.]

She grabbed my wrist before I could say anything and pulled me into her room. Kicked the door shut. Shoved me back against it. Her sword was on the table and somehow she was scarier without it.

"You leave my bed," she said. "No word. No goodbye. I wake up alone. Like a horse somebody rode and forgot to tie."

"Ayla—"

"I go to your room. Nobody. I go back at night. I hear—" She jabbed a finger toward our shared wall. "Your stool. Breaking. And a woman. Not me."

Oh.

Oh, right.

The wall taps.

"Then you are gone all night," she said. "And now you come back smelling like—" she leaned in, sniffed my neck, and her eyes narrowed "—mint. And mountain water."

"I can explain."

"Can you?"

"...No."

She stared at me.

Then she laughed. That low laugh from her chest.

"Honest," she said. "At least you are honest." She pressed her whole body against me. No bra. No anything. That thin white dress was the only thing between us, and it was losing. "In my country I said: a good horse runs many races. I meant it. But it comes home to eat. And last night, you did not come home."

"I had... academy stuff."

"Mm. Academy." She didn’t believe a word. She didn’t care. She slid the straps of her dress off her shoulders, and the whole thing caught on her chest for one long second before it just gave up and fell. "I have been thinking about you all night. Lying alone. Wet. Angry. Thinking about you."

[Desire +10.]

God.

All the fear from the courtyard? Gone. Burned up. My dick stood up like it had never even heard of Clerk Seo.

I grabbed her face and kissed her. Hard. She moaned into my mouth and bit my lip and pulled me away from the door, walking backward toward her bed with her dress around her ankles.

She fell back on the sheets and pulled me down on top of her.

I kissed her neck. Her chest. Sucked marks into her skin the same way she’d sucked them into mine. She arched and grabbed my hair.

"Your husband," I said against her stomach. "Remember the talisman?"

She went still. Then she moaned. Loud.

"You liked lying to him," I said. "Telling him you stubbed your toe. While you were sitting on me."

"Yes." No hesitation. "I liked it. I think about it all night. His voice. Your teeth. I am a bad wife."

"Very bad."

"Very, very bad." She grabbed my face and pulled it up to hers. "So be bad with me."

[Desire +15.]

[Target: Ayla.]

[Desire — MAXIMUM.]

[Harmony available.]

My whole body went hot.

The warm coal in my belly flared, like it knew. Like it was hungry.

Second one.

And Ayla had no idea what she’d just done. She just rolled over onto her stomach, looked back at me over her bare shoulder with her gold hair spilling everywhere, and lifted her hips.

"Mu-jin," she said. "No more talking."

Then, from the walkway outside, so loud the paper door rattled—

"BRO! BRO, WHERE ARE YOU? THE PRESENTATION STARTS IN A QUARTER HOUR! MADAM GWAK PUT OUR NAMES BACK ON IT! IF WE’RE LATE WE’RE DEAD!"

Tae-man.

Ayla didn’t even turn her head. She just looked at me. Slow. Dangerous. And lifted her hips a little higher.

"A quarter hour," she said, "is enough. If you are fast."

I’ve never been fast in my life.

Not in this one, anyway.