Once she left behind the council’s meeting room, Seulhee’s instinct was to go find the king. She had a feeling he was still up there in his rooms, neglected by the conspiracy. At this point, he wasn’t really the priority, so likely they had simply thought that they would deal with him later. As she made her way toward that part of the palace, Seulhee became more convinced that this was so.

There were people bustling about, some servants, some conspiracy members. Probably cleaning the place out for any other people who might be loyal to the council. Or verifying that everyone was safe. Seulhee ignored them.

Surprisingly, she went on her way without being stopped or questioned. Everyone else seemed to be occupied with something else, and everything was in a state of chaos, so that one serving girl went unnoticed.

The stairs to the top seemed infinitely long. Seulhee was already short of breath simply from the nervousness and excitement of what had just happened—how had she not heard the fighting? That was mystery to her. Perhaps her own attention was so focused on the room that she hadn’t realized anything was amiss. Or maybe there was magic at work. She really only knew her own piece to the puzzle of the conspiracy, nothing more.

She climbed up and up, her legs beginning to grow sore from the exertion, until finally she reached the top floors.

The hallways were deserted, of course, but even more so than before, it felt empty and lifeless and eerily quiet. After passing through the first hall, she climbed to the next floor. It wasn’t until she reached the very top floor that she found a sign of light. A light penetrating the crack between the door and the ground, a door at the very end of the hall.

Seulhee headed toward the light. She stopped outside of the room and was about to knock, when she remembered to put on her veil. It wouldn’t be a good idea to offend the king with the sight of her face. That taken care of, she knocked. Three times, spaced out with about half a second between them.

There was no reply, no one to open the door. She wondered if the king’s servants were even around, or if he was alone, sitting in a corner and brooding.

When it became apparent no one was going to answer the door, she reached out and tried to open it, hoping it wasn’t locked. The catch gave way at her fingers. It wasn’t.

Her heart positively pounding, Seulhee pushed the door open and stepped inside. Before she could part her lips to say a word, though, someone grabbed her from behind, clamping a hand over .

“Who are you?” a voice by her ear demanded. There was a softness to it that contrasted with the vehemence of the speaker’s actions.

Seulhee struggled against her captor, but he kept a tight lock on her limbs that prevented her from escaping.

Then, a moment later, the man let out a brief “ah” and said, “You are the deaf and mute girl, right?” The arm around her let go, as did the hand covering .

Seulhee spun around to see who it was. It was the king. There was nothing stopping her from speaking, now that she had accomplished her task, but she didn’t say a word, merely stared into the face of her kingdom’s ruler.

Even through her veil, she could distinguish his features. His dark brown hair fell to one side, and it didn’t look at all unkempt; in fact, it looked recently trimmed. He had a sharp nose, and a strong jaw, with cheeks that once held more fat, but had grown gaunter. His eyes were a deep brown, holding a history of a great deal of pain. But no insanity. They were clear, lucid…and a bit puzzled.

“How do you know I exist?” Seulhee blurted. Then, remembering her manners, she curtsied. “Your Majesty.”

“So you’re not so deaf and mute after all. Well, then.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I have been a prisoner in my own palace, but I have not been completely ignorant of the comings and goings of this place,” he remarked, sounding a bit bemused. “I have eyes and ears out there.”

That was news to her. For all she knew, the servants who attended to the king had been in the pay of the council men. Perhaps she had been wrong, or the men they had hired had not been so attached to money that they would betray their king.

“So you’re not crazed with grief?” The question sounded stupid to her, but she had been under the impression that the king was not completely in his right mind for so long that she couldn’t get rid of it so easily.

He snorted, a very undignified, less-than-royal snort. “Hardly. I grieved, but I moved on. But I found it convenient to put on the act of a madman, so people would think me harmless and leave me alone. It worked quite well, in fact. Except I suppose it did not for you.”

“What?” She peered at him, confused.

“You were there, that day, in the tower, were you not? I thought I heard something. No one else would have snuck around like that. If someone wanted something from me, they would have approached me.”

Was the king omnipotent or what? Seulhee wasn’t sure how he knew all these things. But if he wasn’t insane after all, then that opened the door to many possibilities that she hadn’t thought of. Evidently he was more aware of what was going on around him that she realized.

“So why are you here?” the king asked.

“Well,” Seulhee said. She began to fix her veil, which had come loose. The king reached out and stopped her. “You don’t need to worry about that. That was just part of the ruse of being mad, making strange and unreasonable demands. Also, it prevented the servants who saw me from figuring out that I wasn’t actually crazy.” He pulled the veil away to look upon her bare face.

For a moment, the king simply stared at her. “Is there something wrong with my face?” she asked, her right hand going to her cheek.

He shook his head. “No. It’s simply been a long time since I’ve had such…direct interaction with a woman since Chunyoung died.”

Seulhee assumed that Chunyoung was the queen. “If you don’t mind me asking, Your Majesty, how did she pass?” This question had bothered her for nearly a year now.

“She took her own life,” the king sighed.

“Oh.” Her hand went to . “That’s so sad.”

“I’m not sure anyone noticed the signs that she was going down that path. From what I know, she had always been prone to periodic mood fluctuations, ever since she was young, but they weren’t a huge cause for concern. Or so most people thought. However, after she married me, it went to the extreme. For the first few months, she was quite happy, almost in a state of delirium, and it was infectious for those around her. Then, soon after, she plunged into a period of darkness. She complained of being homesick. She blamed herself for not producing an heir, never mind that it was still early in our marriage. She said she was useless at just about everything.”

At times, Seuhee had felt horribly inept, but she had never felt that the weight was crushing her or driving her toward death. However, she had heard of this kind of sickness before. It wasn’t a sickness of the body, but rather of the mind, almost impossible to deal with.

“I thought I could make her happy, but I failed. I didn’t realize how far she had sunken into the darkness until it was too late. I’ve always felt responsible for her death, in a way.”

“But you couldn’t help her,” Seulhee protested. “If someone decides to give up on themselves, what can you do?”

“I don’t know,” the king replied. “I only wish there was some way I could have fixed it all.”

She nodded. “Another question…why all the secrecy about the cause of the queen’s death?”

“I was ashamed,” he confessed. “I felt that if the word spread that the queen had committed suicide, people would blame me for being a poor husband. That’s one reason. Another was that it didn’t really matter why she died. She’s gone all the same. The last one, perhaps the most important, is that her parents were ashamed of what had happened. Suicide is never a good thing, of course, but in Aria, it is seen as very selfish and cowardly unless done for the sake of some broader cause. I had a palace mage notify the rulers of Aria almost immediately after her death, and they told me they did not want anyone knowing of their daughter’s disgrace. So I let her death remain a mystery. People could imagine what they want, but it would be as if Death had snatched her away, and no one would have any fault in it.”

“I see. I won’t tell anyone.” She was surprised the king had let her in on the secret at all, though.

“I think I can trust you not to say anything,” the king said, smiling a little. Just as he finished saying this, they heard the pounding of footsteps, and the Duke and his people poured into the room, dropping to their knees to bow to the king.

After that, Seulhee became part of the background. Once the Duke saw that the king was well and sound of mind, they escorted him out, probably to discuss the course of action from there. A few people gave Seulhee odd looks, but nobody reprimanded her or objected to her presence in the king’s quarters. She left the scene and went in search of familiar faces.