Chapter 7: The Price

I just stood there, breathing hard, jade token sweating in my hand.

Hong Seo-rin didn’t look up from her ledger.

She was sitting on the stone bench with one leg tucked under her, a long thin pipe between two fingers, smoke curling up into the steam from the spring. No silk robe tonight. Just a loose white inner jacket, the kind you sleep in, damp from the steam and clinging to her. The night air had gotten to her. Her nipples were poking straight through the cotton. And her trousers were rolled up past her knees, all the way up her thighs, like she’d been dipping her feet in the warm runoff.

She looked relaxed.

She looked like trouble.

[Target Detected.]

"Where’s the gate guard?" I asked.

"Drinking. On me." Clack. "Two coppers and a jug of plum wine. He’ll be asleep under the kitchen table by now."

"You sent him away?"

"Someone had to." She finally looked up. "Did you think the physician would bring you here with a guard sitting at the gate? She’s brave, not stupid. She asked me to handle it."

Wait.

"Yeon-hee asked you?"

"She asked me this afternoon. Very red in the face. Couldn’t look me in the eye." Seo-rin blew a thin line of smoke. "Eleven years I’ve known that girl. She has never once asked me for a favor. Today she asked me for one."

She tapped the ledger with her pipe.

"Favors go in the book, Baek Mu-jin. And the book always balances."

I swallowed. "So what’s the price?"

She didn’t answer right away. She set the pipe down on the bench, very carefully. Picked up her abacus. And looked at me the way she looked at me at the gate this morning — like I was a column of numbers she hadn’t finished adding.

"Let’s see." Clack. "Madam Seol, Gu Clan. Yesterday. That’s how you got here."

Clack.

"The physician. Back stairs. This morning."

Clack.

"The merchant’s wife. Ayla. Your robe was in her wash bucket at sunset. The washerwoman told me. She tells me everything for a copper."

Clack.

"And a palanquin with the Gwak family crest sat at the bottom of your stairs for an hour and a half tonight. The bearers were bored. Bearers talk."

Clack.

She looked at the beads. Then at me.

"Four married women, or near enough, in a day and a half. You’ve been in this inn less than one day."

I didn’t know what to say. Put like that, in her flat little voice, with the beads lined up neat as soldiers... it sounded insane.

It WAS insane.

"That’s a lot of people," she said, "with a lot of reasons to want you dead. Elder Gu. A merchant with a caravan full of hired swords. A physician’s husband who works at the magistrate’s office. And the Gwak family, who could buy this whole inn and burn it down for fun."

She snapped the abacus shut.

"I am the only person in this building who knows all of it. And I haven’t said a word."

[Desire +20.]

The number popped up right as she said it. Calm. Cold. Like the danger was the part that turned her on.

Shit. That was her spark. Not my body. Not my face.

She liked the numbers.

"Here’s my price," she said, and stood up.

She was barefoot on the stones. She walked over to me slow, and the closer she got, the more I could see through that damp white jacket. She stopped right in front of me. Close enough I could smell the tobacco and the plum wine on her breath.

"One," she said, and held up a finger. "Yeon-hee is my friend. She’s had a bad marriage and a worse year. If you hurt her — if you make her cry, if you get her caught, if you make her a joke — the price doubles. And you won’t like how I collect."

"I won’t hurt her."

"Everyone says that." Second finger. "Two. You’re broke. Eleven silver, if the gate gossip was right, and it always is. The guild has work for a young man with a strong back and a clan name, even a disowned one. Errands. Collections. Escorts. It pays. You’ll do it when I ask."

I blinked. That... wasn’t a punishment. That was a job.

"And three?"

She put the third finger on my chest. Right over my heart. Then she slid it down. Slow. Over my stomach. Past my belt.

She stopped just before it got interesting.

"Three," she said, "I haven’t decided yet."

Her finger stayed there. Pressing. Barely.

"But I’ll tell you this. When I do decide, it’ll be on a night I choose. In a room I choose. And you’ll be on time." Her lips curled up at one corner. "I hate late payments."

[Desire +15.]

I was so hard it hurt. She could feel it. She was right there. She didn’t even look down. She didn’t have to.

"Do we have a deal, Baek Mu-jin?"

I opened my mouth—

"MU-JIN!"

We both jumped.

The gate creaked open, and Yeon-hee came hurrying out of the steam, wrapped head to toe in a long dark outer robe like it was the middle of winter. Hair wet. Face pink from the heat. Her eyes went from me, to Seo-rin, to Seo-rin’s finger, which was still right below my belt.

Seo-rin took her hand back. Unhurried. Like she’d been brushing lint off my robe.

"Oh, thank the gods you’re here!" Yeon-hee said, way too loud, way too bright. "The — the drain stone! In the spring! It’s stuck, the water’s going everywhere, and you told me earlier you’re good with... stones. And... drains. Right?"

I had never said that.

"Yeah," I said. "Very good with drains."

Seo-rin picked up her pipe and took a long, slow pull. Smoke drifted out of her nose. Her eyes dragged down my body, all the way down, and lingered right where her finger had been.

"Is he," she said. "Good with his hands, I hear. I’ll keep that in mind next time something of mine gets... stuck."

Yeon-hee went even redder. She grabbed my wrist so hard her nails bit in.

"Thank you, unni!" she squeaked. "For — for everything! Goodnight!"

She dragged me through the gate.

Behind us, I heard one last clack.

"We’ll finish our conversation, Baek Mu-jin," Seo-rin called. "Interest accrues."

The hot spring was a big rock pool set into the hillside, with pines all around it and steam rising off the water like smoke from a dragon’s mouth. A paper lantern hung from a low branch. The moon was out. The water was glowing.

And there was absolutely no stuck drain stone.

Yeon-hee shoved the gate shut behind us and leaned against it, panting.

"What was she doing?" she hissed. "What did she want? Why was her hand on your—"

"It’s fine. She’s not gonna tell anyone."

"How do you know?"

"Because she’s got a price, and I’m gonna pay it."

Yeon-hee stared at me. "What price?"

"Mostly errands," I said. "And something she hasn’t decided yet."

"Gods." She covered her face. "Gods, gods, gods. I’m so sorry. I dragged you into this."

"Hey." I pulled her hands down. "You didn’t drag me anywhere. I’ve wanted to be up here with you since you grabbed my wrist this morning."

She looked up at me.

And then the worry just... left her face. Like steam off the water. What was left was something else. Something hungry.

"You’re late," she said quietly.

"I know. I’m sorry. There was a—"

"I know what there was. The whole east wing knows what there was. Your stool’s apparently broken." She laughed under her breath. "I told you I’d start without you."

"Did you?"

She didn’t answer.

She just reached up, slow, and untied the sash of that long dark robe.

Then she let it fall open.

Holy fuck.

She wasn’t wearing a bathing wrap. She wasn’t wearing anything. Just pink skin from the hot water, wet all over, steam rising off her body in the cold air like she was on fire. Her hair was dripping down her chest. Her nipples were hard from the night chill.

And in her hand — I hadn’t even noticed her holding it — was the little jar of herbal balm from this morning.

"Physician’s orders," she whispered, and held it out to me. "Your yang energy’s been very busy today. I think you need... treatment."

I took the jar.

She took my hand and walked backward into the water, pulling me with her. One step. Two. The water came up to her knees. Then her thighs.

"Anything," she said. "Remember? I said you could do anything."

She let go of my hand. Turned around. Looked back at me over her bare, wet shoulder.

And smiled.