"do you... trust me?" it's a low whisper, the king's soft lips pressed against the stuttering pulse in your throat. but you think, or maybe you hope, the implications are trying to delve much deeper into your heart. regardless, your answer has never...
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"Yet another execution? Are you certain?"
"Yes, another has been planned for two days from now."
"How many is it this time?"
"Three men. All only suspected to be Japanese spies because they spoke a few words in the language."
From your corner in the kitchen, investigating the medicinal properties of certain vegetables when made into a paste, you pretend like you're not listening to the two women as intently as you can.
"But that's the fourth in a month!" The young maid's voice is too loud, ringing out across the kitchen. "Has he truly gone insane?"
"Shh!" The head cook, an older woman you've known since you were but a child, shakes her head furiously with her finger pressed over her lips. "Don't let anyone catch you saying things like that. Now you'd better hurry and bring the king his dinner or he'll cut your head off too." Where these words would once have been said in jest, they now carry the heavy weight of a frightening reality as the maid nods. She soon speeds off with tray in hand to avoid such a fate.
The cook, Jinyoung-nim, presses her pale lips together, staring blankly at the rice porridge that bubbles away in the pot. Then, she calls your name in a soft tone.
You raise your head. "Yes?"
"Please, tell me if you can." She hesitates. "Were you there at Minister Choi's execution?"
At the mention of the name, you suck in an involuntary breath. You've tried not to think about that day for the past three weeks since it happened, but perhaps it was inevitable that all your efforts would be undone. "Yes. I... I was."
"Is it true then? The rumors of jeonha's..."
What can you do but nod?
The unwanted images flood your mind before you can even try to stop them.
That day in mid-September had been clear skies. You'd gathered in the public execution square, which in the past few months has seen so much spilled blood at King Yoongi's commands that it sickens you to even think of it. Spies, rebels, and thieves alike now lost their lives every week, in addition to those behaving "suspiciously." And if that wasn't enough, the king had turned his bloodlust on his own court.
It was suddenly, on an inconspicuous day, that he began to hurl accusations of treason at Minister Choi. It was no secret that the king hated the man for all the oppositions to his decisions and his obsession with how things had been under the former king's rule. That just made it all the more suspicious when a booklet of evidence appeared in the king's possession out of nowhere, with just enough to sentence the Minister to execution.
You shouldn't have gone to watch, but you couldn't believe what they were saying. The king you knew would never have done such a thing, just to get rid of an annoyance. He couldn't have fallen that far in so little time... right?
"Jeonha, I have never betrayed you!" Minister Choi, arms bound behind him like a common prisoner, had been dragged before the execution block. The king stood on the raised viewing platform, leaning against the wooden balcony with chilling ice in his stare. "You are making a mistake!"
"Please reconsider, jeonha!" Advisor Ra cried out in support of Choi. But he shut his mouth instantly when King Yoongi's gaze flicked to him.
"Advisor Ra. Would you like to join him?"
Ra backed off, stepping back hurriedly in a bow but the threat lingered in the air. It hung over everyone in attendance like a chokehold, a feeling that was becoming too common these days. Standing in the shadows of a nearby building, you trembled at the foreignness of that blank look on his face, at the ease with which he now offered death to those who were meant to aid him. He didn't so much as flinch when the executioner stepped up with his freshly sharpened weapon.
It was over in a second.
Most had been watching Choi's last moments but you were still searching the king's face for any semblance of the man he used to be. But as the sword swung down, his lips curled into a smile that was maniacal, almost crazed. His serrated scar had seemed so much redder in that light, stretched across his cheek as he held the wild grin for a moment more before he disappeared into the room, leaving his carnage and the tattered shreds of your hope behind.
Your mind does not allow you to forget it - that terrifying look. You're afraid it'll replace the other memories you have of him, the ones you hold so dear that slip more and more from you as the days pass.
"He really... smiled." Jinyoung exhales at the end of your retelling, a long and tired sound.
You nod, wishing you could tell her otherwise. But you both know the changes are undeniable.
The citizens that formerly deemed him weak and useless now dread drawing his attention at all, lest they find themselves on the execution square. However, most of the rebellions across the land have ceased. Crime has been less rampant, though present still, and foreign invasion is less of a possibility with the spies (and those merely suspected of being such) taken care of. Objectively, the king carries out his proper duties and protects the land. But at what cost?
The kitchen door slams open.
It's the same maid as before, looking absolutely frantic.
"I forgot! I forgot the rice!" Her eyes are wide in dread, hair flying loose from her up-do as she must have run all the way here. She finds the silver bowl on the counter, left behind in her haste. "Jeonha is going to kill me. He's going to have me beheaded, or at the very least tortured and—"
"Don't worry." You put both hands on her shoulders, feel her entire body shudder violently beneath you. "I will bring it to him."
"Uinyeo-nim, a-are you sure? What if he..."
You shake your head, grab the container and just go. You can't believe he would do such a thing for such a tiny mistake, but the fresh horror in the maid's eyes burrows right into your heart.
See, you hadn't told Jinyoung everything. You left out all the excuses you've made in these past months to the guards to gain access to the gardens while the list of executions piled higher, matching the number of disheveled prisoners thrown in the cells. You spent practically every hour you could spare among the trees, waiting for the chance that the king would show and reveal some tiny sign of lingering humanity like he did that humid August day. But he never once came. This time, you're going right to him.
When you reach his expansive chambers, walk through the corridors, the area is noticeably devoid of people, save for a few necessary guards. Very few dare to venture out here unless they absolutely need to now. You were expecting this, though it still makes you uncomfortable to witness. The door to the king's dining room is firmly closed, with the low table of food already brought inside.
"Jeonha, I have brought your rice. Forgive me for forgetting it," you say, wondering if he would even recognize your voice after all this time.
There's no sign of acknowledgment, or even that he hears you in the first place, but you insist on waiting a long, pensive minute.
In the end, you're only left with nothing yet again, feeling silly for having expected anything else. Silly, for letting yourself be in this position again and again for him.
"I'll place the bowl outside. Let me know if there is anything else you require." Your voice sounds weak, having lost most of its fight. Then you turn on your heel, and leave him.
