Part 1: Yoo Seolhwa

I shouldn’t be going into the palace, and that’s the only thing that’s going through my mind as I walk.

It’s already dangerous enough to wander near the area where the palace is. I’ve heard enough gossip about the king to know that he isn’t the sort of person I’d like to cross, and even without the stories people tell, to steal something from the palace is forbidden and dangerous.

It’s unnerving even to think of the rumors circulating the king, and it’s even scarier to know that at least half of them are proven true. I try to swallow my fear as I walk because my chances of getting caught are going to be even higher if I walk in terrified.

Someone waves at me from the side of the street, but it doesn’t even cross my mind to wave back until I’ve passed them.

Swallow the fear, I think. Mom’s life may depend on this.

If I can just get inside the palace garden, pick the herb…

Faces of people blend around me as I walk, turning down familiar streets and heading towards the direction of the palace. It’s late afternoon now, and if I can go through when it’s dark, then maybe I can pick the herb unnoticed. It’s only the palace gardens, and those shouldn’t be guarded as much as the inside of the palace. And if I’m lucky, I could possibly find more medicine that I need in the gardens. I’ll be able to cure mom once and for all.

That is, if everything goes right. I don’t want to know what’ll happen if something goes wrong and I’m caught.

It’s won’t happen, I think, but there’s another mocking voice that also laughed when I tried my best to cure my mother. Do you really believe that?

I shake it off and continue walking.

I’m nearing the palace gates by the time the sun starts to set. The amount of guards have increased in this area, but it’s not like they don’t see a lot of commoner girls walking by. As long as I can go around the wall and crawl through the hole in the wall that the men in the village had been talking about, I’ll be fine. As long as I can blend in with the crowd long enough for them not to notice me, I’ll be fine.  

As I pass, there’s a woman who’s packing up the things she’s sold for the day. There are mirrors among the other pieces of jewelry, but in the dark, I can’t see how terrified my expression looks and somehow that’s a comforting thought. If I can’t see it, I can pretend it doesn’t exist.

I pass by the silver armor of a guard. Seeing it makes me quicken my steps.

The village is generally an extremely peaceful place to live, and I guess the commoners have to thank the king. While he’s mysterious and no one really knows much about him, he still keeps us safe and perhaps that’s all that he needs to do. We don’t need to know his face, his name, his age, his personality. Keeping his people safe — that’s his duty as a king, isn’t it?

Some people say that he’s a monster who can’t go out during the day (they’re just rumors, though, like everything else about him). Some people complain that they must’ve lived a terrible life before to be born in this life into such a kingdom, to have such a ruler. They say the blood of those he’s killed is forever on his hands, but he doesn’t care. Other people are just thankful to have a king that doesn’t misuse his power.

I don’t care. As long as he doesn't hurt the people I care about, I really don’t have the energy to care. There’s already enough to do.

I near the palace walls. It’s dark now, and I can barely see the outline of my hands if I hold them in front of my face. Cautiously, I keep my hand against the palace wall and walk forward. So far, there are no guards, and I hope the ones at the wall can’t see me.

It’s almost unbelievable how easily I find the hole in the wall. They’re really just a couple of crumbling bricks and the opening is too small for any man and perhaps most women to crawl through, but it’s an opening nonetheless.

Placing a hand cautiously on the rock, I peer through. The palace wall is thick, though I can see the other side. It’s not impossible for me to squeeze through, and even if it’s going to be hard, there’s my mother back home with her burning fever and my sister waiting for me to come back.

Maybe desperation is the only thing I need. Because it’s that that pulls me through the wall, despite the jagged rock ripping at my clothing and cutting into my palm and even though being in such a closed space makes me so nervous that I can’t breathe. Desperation is the one thing I have to credit for making it to the other side.

And surprisingly, it’s the palace gardens.

My first thought is surprise, and then there’s the undeniable wash of fear. It’s dangerous here, even in the dark where it’s hard to see people. My hands are shaking still from climbing through the hole, which lies just behind me while before me spreads the whole garden.

It’s huge. I can see the actual palace in the distance, a smudge of blacker color against the almost-fully-dark sky. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around me, though beyond, there’s the light of torches from the guards. They’re far away, though, and I can only hope they don’t see me.

The garden itself is huge. It spreads out all around me, numerous paths intertwining and full of colorful flowers (or at least, I assume they’re colorful — I can’t see the colors in the dark). Echinacea. It has to be somewhere in the garden. I’ve worked enough with herbs to be able to recognize most of them, though a huge downside of going in when it’s dark is that I can’t see anything at all. To find the echinacea in such large garden…

Still, I don’t have another choice. My mother’s life may or may not depend on it. And she’s one thing I can’t afford to lose.

My footsteps sound scarily loud as I move forward, squinting through the darkness and hoping to find the familiar pink shape of the echinacea. I pass by a juniper bush and stop to pick the berries, but it’s too nerve wracking to travel and trespass in the dark that soon, I’m passing plenty of useful herbs but the only one I’m looking for is the echinacea. This is mostly likely a missed opportunity, a once-in-a-lifetime thing that I’ve risked my life to do and yet I’m missing out on it. But the paranoia of being caught is overwhelming.

The place is huge. The more I walk, the more despairing big it seems, and I can’t help but wonder if it’s only a matter of time before they find me and I’m brought to the king. The thought makes me speed up.

And then, just as I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten lost in the maze of a garden, something catches my eye.

It’s such a small patch of echinaceas that I almost miss it, but there’s the faint scent of their smell in the air and I stop. I can’t see their color in the dark, but it’s relatively light and the shape is easier to make out.

It’s a huge breath of relief. Fingers trembling, I reach over and pick one, and then another, and then another until I have a handful and then I turn back to the way I came.

The only thing I see before my eyes is an endless maze, even more confusing than it was in the first place because it’s darker now. The moon isn’t out tonight, and the stars don’t give off nearly enough light.

And though it’s hard to admit to myself because I’m already terrified as it is, I’m hopelessly lost.

The garden all looks the same. Echinaceas, lilies, roses, tulips, bushes of other fragrant flowers. Honeysuckle. Mint. They’re all a blur around me, and the palace walls all stretch the same way — up, taller than I remembered — and I have no memory of where the hole was that I crawled through.

I try to steady my breathing, then turn onto the path behind me and start heading in the general direction of where I thought I started off.

It doesn’t take long for it to turn into a disaster.

Halfway through the garden, I can see torchlight in the not-so-far distance, and the loud voices of palace guards. Panicking, I duck behind the nearest bush, but they’re walking in my direction and I can’t move. If I run, I’ll be spotted. If I stay in the same spot, they might see me too. Fingers shaking so hard that the flower petals are beginning to fall off, I curl up tighter behind the berry bush and pray that they pass by me.

No such luck. Almost too soon, one of the soldiers says something about hearing a noise, and the torchlight travels toward me.

Please not this time, I think. Just this once. I’ll never do something like this again, but I can’t—

“Hey,” the coarse voice of the guard says, “there’s someone here–”

I’m running before he finishes the sentence, sprinting as fast as I can even though I know it’s no use. Another voice shouts in alarm, and then there’s the sharp sound of metal-against-metal and I recognize the sound of them drawing their swords. It only makes me run faster, even though I already know that it’s hopeless. The only way out is through the place I got in, but it’s so narrow and hard to get through that it’ll take forever to get out. There’s no way I won’t be caught before that, if I can even find the entrance in the first place.

The garden is huge, and while it might’ve been possible if I actually had time to do so, I can’t hide anymore. I can hear the guards behind me, dangerously close and gaining each step.

My mother. My sister. The herbs. I can barely see where I’m going in the garden anymore. Everything is a blur of black, though behind me, they still have their torches.

I can hear them yelling at me to stop, though the more they yell, the faster I force myself to run until finally, I stumble on something on the path.

A hand latches onto the back of my dress, and I’m forced to a half before dragged backwards. The flowers flutter out of my hand, dropping onto the paved path as one soldier yanks my hands behind me and the other lifts the sword to my neck.

I can barely hear their voices through the pounding in my head, the ringing of fear. The flowers scattered in front of me, the very thing I need, petals falling and crushed on the pavement.

Though there’s one thing that the guards say that I can make out clearly, and it’s even more terrifying than being caught.

“The King,” one of them says, and I freeze. “Take her to the king.”

***

I don’t care about the king because he has nothing to do with me. It doesn’t matter what the rumors say about him as long as he does what he’s supposed to as a king, as long as he’s responsible for his kingdom — then I don’t care. But as the guards drag me towards the palace, I begin to care.

There’s no guarantee what’s going to happen to me, and that’s the only thing I know for sure. If the king is merciful, he’ll let it go. But merciful? It’s one of the words that I’ve never heard people mention when they’re talking about the king. Ruthless. Doesn’t blink when he kills. Merciless, maybe. Not merciful.

The more I think, the more terrifying it becomes. The penalty for sneaking into the palace and stealing something — I don’t know what it is, but I highly doubt it’s being sent back with no punishments, unscathed.

The large, intricately decorated doors come into view. There’s a row of guards in front of it. I can’t remember much of the palace that we passed – all I can recall is turning down numerous passages, and the palace seems to be more of a maze than the gardens, which is saying something. And that being said, I’m even  more hopelessly lost.

I watch as the guard holding me talks to the first one next to the door, and I wonder if this is karma for the other times I’ve stolen from others, the times I’ve yelled at my sister, lied to my mother about where I’ve gotten the herbs and the medicine. Just not this time. I’ll stop stealing in the future. If I can just get out of this this time…

The heavy doors swing open, and the guards force me forward.

My first thought, when it fully opens, is that it’s huge. The throne room is grander than anything I have ever seen. It’s decorated with so many different tapestries and gems. The white pillars that run down the sides of the throne room look like they’re made out of crystal. For a moment, a split second, I’m in awe of my surroundings and the fear and panic is forgotten.

And then the guard shoves me forward and I don’t care how beautiful or expensive the throne room is. The polished marble floors look cold and slippery, and it’s a long walk up to the throne.

I’ve had my head down for the last while, but this time, I can’t help but lift it. Part of me is scared for what I’ll see when I look at the king — a monster? Some hideous creature? It’s a ridiculous thought, but after all those rumors I’ve heard, part of me expected the throne room to be covered with blood.

He’s none of those.

The first thing that catches my eye is the mask. It’s black and red, extremely simple, though it covers up most of his face so there’s no telling what he’s thinking. His eyes behind the mask are unreadable, or maybe it’s too far for me to see properly. He’s wearing black and gold robes, and he sits on the throne stiffly. I can’t tell how tall he is exactly, but he looks pretty tall.

And on top of that, something about him feels extremely young too.

I know he was the youngest child in the family — he had an older brother too, but he died (and many people say it was the current king that killed his brother in order to get the throne) — but I had never bothered to learn how old he actually was.

“Your Majesty,” one of the guard says, bending down. The other one behind me shoves me down roughly, and I’m forced to my knees too. I try to glance upwards at the king without lifting my head fully, but it’s hard and I can only stare at the marble floor. Even with my fists clenched, my hands are still shaking.

The guard stands up again, though his head was still bowed. I have nowhere to go but continue kneeling.

“We found her in the gardens,” he says in the same rough voice. “When we caught her, she was stealing flowers.”

The throneroom goes into dead silence. Finally, a sharper voice speaks up, and I can’t