Kaia

The General's Bride

I watched as my hands moved across the white canvas in front of me, distantly understanding that it was me making the watercolors blend in easily together as I added layer upon layer to create my newest landscape. I was aware but I still felt remote, seeing the image I strove to create in my head and focusing on that more than what was in front of me. I played with the shades of blue and white tones for the sky, the myriad of greens and browns for the earth and trees. I added in more dots of black in various sizes to give shadows, hints of yellow and orange interspersed throughout for depth.

Even though I had taken multiple photos of what I now tried to recreate in a different medium, somehow what I see in my mind’s eye was purer and in high definition. Like always when I worked with paints I felt myself become looser, less aware of my body as I focused solely on the hand that held the brush, watching as it selected a color and added it to the painting. It was relaxing in the extreme to leave conscious thought behind and to just exist while I worked. Like this the image emerged slowly, and peace welled in up inside me; the only way I can achieve this type of serenity is when I’m painting.

From the darkness that I had begun working in until now, light has finally begun to shine into the windows of my studio again and I took a small moment to rest, to look over what I had wrought from nothing. I ran my eyes over the canvas critically, more than willing to scrap it and try again, but luckily there was no need. Definitely professional grade, if I could say so myself, although who would buy it was a mystery. It had been years since I’d managed to sell a landscape like this one; nowadays people leaned toward cityscapes, or the juxtaposition between the cruelties of life and the will of man to live. My peaceful watercolor was no longer “in”.

The last work someone had bought at one of my gallery showings had been that of a Kenyan girl covered with grime, the bowl placed next to her on the ground empty, but her smile was too wide and too innocent, her happiness palpable. People had exclaimed over the painting, loudly proclaiming that I had captured the essence of the girl and her tribulations beautifully. But I had gone to Africa, seen the poverty, the destitution and desperation first-hand while those partygoers had only clamored loudly over a portrait. I had painted the scene only because the thought of it had been seared into my brain to the point where I’d had no choice but to put it onto paper and then on a canvas.

The image had haunted me, but it had abruptly propelled me into the spotlight within the artistic community. And now my fans wanted more of the same. But I shied away from it, the poignant emotions that came with witnessing so much pain visceral. I didn’t want to portray illness, death or the fleeting bits of hope that were too rare in this world for some random people whom would never truly understand it’s significance. I wanted only to find beauty, so I had run as far away as I could get and I had ended up in South Korea. I was still here two years later.

 

My earlier feelings of creativity had waned at the onslaught of memories and instead of pushing myself to complete the piece, I set my brush into the can of water that rested beside me and spread out on floor beneath me, my legs tangling in the tarp sheet I had put down to capture spills. Despite the flooring being made of hardwood, I felt myself relax into the cold of it, liking the way it felt against my back, clothed as I was in a thin tank-top and an overly large cardigan that fell past my wrists. I rotated my hand, loosening it gently, well aware that my hands were what I lived with. Damage to them meant that I could no longer practice my craft; even worse I could no longer release my emotions in the only healthy way I’d ever learned how.

I sighed as the sun rose ever higher in the sky, watched as the light and warmth of it hit my face and I closed my eyes against its brightness. I fell into the state between consciousness and sleep quickly, my brain overloaded and exhausted from staying up all night to work on the field. It was quiet, and I was at peace for who knew how long until the blaring resonance of a Korean boy band’s newest song boomed from the phone that rested beside me.

I grumbled in irritation, already well aware that the person to whom I had assigned that particular tone to was about to start my daily torturing early, and that I really wasn’t in the mood to talk.

I waited until the vibrations and noise had died away, not bothering to reach for the device. I hummed in contentment when it fell silent once again and felt myself start to drift away into that blissful grey place. When I had almost achieved the serenity of before, my meditative quiet was broken once again, the pop sounds ringing thorough the studio and reverberating off of all the empty space. Muttering darkly, I snatched up the phone without opening my eyes, and my tone was harsh when I answered.

 

“SoHee, what is it now?” I ground out, feeling too exhausted to exchange pleasantries. SoHee was at alternating times my translator, tour guide and the girl that I could count on to show me all the wildest spots in Seoul. We had gone club hopping more than once during my two-year long stay in the bustling city and while most of the places we’d visited had been somewhat exotic, in the end a club was a club and soon the masses of people publicly grinding on one another had easily put me into remembrance of American clubs and why I’d stopped frequenting those. I wasn’t a prude but some of the debauchery that went on in those places was as close to an as I’d ever seen, and I wasn’t interested.

“There’s a place I want to take you Kaia, I think it’s perfect place to awaken your creative juices,” the twenty-five-year-old gushed into the phone, her tone too excited for so early in the morning. I moaned and rolled around on the hardwood, feeling my older bones protest at the thought of leaving my studio for anything but my apartment and after that my bed.

“Sorry, SoHee sweetie. I’m just really swamped, and you know I have a deadline coming up…” I trailed off and crossed my fingers, hoping that she’d let me off. I’d been on one too many of my friend’s so-called inspirational field trips and the last one had put me off oranges for a month, her apologies at mixing up the location falling on deaf ears.

‘But Kai, seriously you’ll love it! I’ll tell you now, it’s a palace. Doesn’t that sound awesome?” The younger woman exclaimed and I felt my interest raise its head slightly.

“I think I know which one you mean, it’s like on every tourist list for Korea,” I muttered while stifling my yawn with a hand.

“Exactly right! But you’ve never been there and it’s been two years already; you’ve gotta go!” She insisted.

“Are you ever less than enthusiastic about anything?” I snarked as she continued to ramble on about the palace and all its glory.

“I only have two settings, obnoxious and asleep,” she replied jokingly. “Now get your up and let’s get going. I’ll be outside the studio in thirty minutes,” she trilled and abruptly ended the call.

Staring at the now silent phone in my hands, I looked between it and the comfort of my makeshift bed. Feeling the sting of unshed tears lingering in my eyes, I rose reluctantly from the floor and made my way downstairs to my apartment. I was already regretting answering SoHee’s call as I thought despairingly over what I should wear.

 

 

Spring in Seoul was much like winter there, or at least it was in the mornings. I shivered as we stepped out of the taxi that had brought us to the tourist attraction, thanking the ahjusshi and watching the older man’s face light up when I spoke Korean to him. It was always fun to see people’s surprise when I spoke their language and I had yet to get tired of it. But my mind erased that bit of satisfaction and replaced it with astonishment when I turned to look at the place we’d planned on spending a few hours at. I suddenly realized why we’d need so much time to explore it all. Gyeongbokgung palace was an architectural masterpiece, the sharp angles, curved roofs and bright colors making it stand out proudly in the early spring chill. Fog rolled over the very tops of the elegant place, giving it a strange air of mystery, as if it was existing in its own time far removed from any of us. Tourists were packed around the steps and in the courtyard, milling about as tour guides used wild gestures and somewhat halting English to explain the structure and its cultural significance.

As I stood in front of the entrance, I glanced at SoHee next to me and smiled. We were dwarfed by the sheer size of the building and I was in awe of its beauty. I had to hand it to her, the thirty-minute taxi ride had been well worth it.

“Ok, so you were right this time, it’s totally awesome,” I gushed, feeling my excitement increase tenfold as we got in line to go inside the historic palace. Already I could imagine bringing the beauty of it to life, but this time in an oil painting.

“I aim to please,” SoHee replied while bowing to me mockingly and I playfully pushed her with my shoulder, bumping her a little too hard and making her much smaller frame wobble as we went up the steps.

“I had every right to be cautious. You remember the “supposed to be a bubble party” but then it was a different type of theme altogether?” I reminded her, shaking off the chill that ran down my spine at the memory of that particular fiasco.

“We all have faults; mine happens to be knowing when something is a metaphor or not,” SoHee blithely replied and giggled. She hadn’t been too upset at the mistake she’d made about the party, but then she hadn’t been the one holding her hair back while she puked all night afterwards. That had been my particular pleasure.

 

“Gyeongbokgung Palace was completed three years after the foundation of Joseon, the last Korean kingdom founded in 1392. For this reason, Gwanghwamun Gate is the front gate since it's located in the southern part of the palace. The front gate consists of three doors, with the middle one designated for the king. The door to the east was for scholar officials, while the door to the west was for military officials and technical staff to pass through.” Words from one of the tour guides floated to us easily over the din, his group of visitors exclaiming loudly even though we had yet to truly enter. Flashes of cameras and the gasps that we heard all around us added to the general calamity of sound but somehow seeing the palace up close still managed to give off a feeling of tranquility.

 

As we passed through the front gate, I painstakingly read the Korean plate on it, one that explained the sculpture of an imaginary animal called Haechi. Its large eyes seemed to bore into the passerby and it made sense that it had been placed there to remind all the officials coming to the palace that they should have a conscience and be fair in their political activities. Possibly we needed something similar in the White House or at Congress in the US, no one had ever tried that tactic before to make their officials behave; it may be just what was needed. Looking closely at the fine details that had still managed last through time, I realized that these were the skills of master craftsmen and I suddenly wished that my own work would have such longevity.

The stones of the courtyard were all placed on a slant, fitting in perfectly even without the technology of today. When I mentioned it and the drains that had been built to keep water from filling up the space, SoHee had explained that it had been built this slanted on purpose, so as not to ruin the ground the palace was built on. With Confucian principles of living in harmony with nature, they had intentionally made the home of the king less lavish then some of its Asian counterparts and the overall beauty of the place was more because of its views and the attention to details rather than anything too flashy in the architecture itself. We didn’t speak much as we went along; there was something reverent about the place that made me want to explore in peace rather than wildly taking photos.

 

It wasn’t too long before SoHee had been distracted by a cute guy at the edge of the palace gates, and after she’d mentioned him once, I had lost sight of her. Not feeling too concerned since it was a common thing for her to disappear after a pretty face, I decided to continue the tour on my own. People bustled throughout the palace, most of the groups sticking to the main walkways, the better to get pictures and see everything at once. Workers in the palace were dressed in the traditional style Hanboks and people flocked to the men and women, excited to get a picture of living history.

 But I wanted a closer inspection, and I peeked into several rooms, trying to get a feel of what the place would’ve been like in it’s heyday. I knew some basic history of the Joseon dynasty, but the best accomplishments that I really understood were to have taken place under King Sejong’s rule. The creation of the Hangul written language, the expansion of the military and advancements in technology had all been hallmarks of his time on the throne. He had changed the country and one only needed to be within Korea for a short amount of time before realizing how the Koreans of today still deeply respected and honored the long dead monarch.

The columns, archways and even the beams that held the palace together were all intricately detailed in color, the somewhat washed out red, blue, white, yellow, and green still managing to give life to the interior hundreds of years later, a master’s work indeed. Whomever had built Gyeongbukgung had intended it for the king and his people; the richness inherent here made it seem all too real, even with the Confucian sentiment that it be humble, there was an air of royalty that couldn’t be denied.

I entered into an open room that no one seemed to have been in recently, the furnishings placed inside as if someone was still coming in to use them. There were wooden chairs that sat directly on the floor with high backs in a dark color, the low legged table that had fine china dishes and cups along with the chopsticks of the time were set in place. And best of all, what caught my eye was the silk screen behind it all, the colors of it standing out brightly in a room that had too much of a muted white scheme. I passed the display setting and moved to take a closer look at the screen, eager to see it in detail.

 

My hands reached out to touch the heavily patterned silk in front of me and my fingers grazed over the intricate strands that had been embroidered into the screen. It was delicate and still beautiful, as if each strand was just as vibrant and new as it had been at its creation. It had seen the rise and fall of the same empire and a few more after it, still managing to be in pristine condition. I took a step back and breathed in sharply as I took in the full picture; the image of a solider standing in the midst of a battle, his face partially covered by his long hair, his body in full armor as he stood alone among others that had been slain on the ground below him. It was a testament to the artist that had created this piece that it was so well preserved; their skill had been great and it could be seen the closer I bent to inspect the work, the hundreds of colors all blending to create the seamless image. It must have taken years to complete and I almost felt pity that it wasn’t being shown around the world and in museums, such greatness deserved praise.

 

The inner workings of this old palace were like nothing I had imagined before. Here and there tourists like myself walked in groups or in pairs, taking photos and enjoying this glimpse into the past. I felt almost transported myself as I walked through the massive doorways and into a courtyard in full bloom despite the gloomy weather. Vibrant colors sprung up all along the walkways and green grass grew in full and healthy next to the stone paths the winded their way into a slightly forested area. I walked leisurely, enjoying the slight mist that fell around my face as I went under the trees, their branches blocking out the direct light of day and still holding the night’s moisture.

Feeling thankful now that SoHee had gone off on her own somewhere, I breathed in deeply, loving the feel of the trees all around me, the fresh air welcome after my self-imposed stay indoors for the past week in an attempt to finish up some contract work. Birds chirped overhead and I felt a oneness with nature, or as close to someone living in the twenty-frst century could feel close to anything in real life. I hummed to myself as I walked, imagining painting the scenes around me, playing with ideas for colors and mediums, wondering which kinds would work best. It didn’t take me long to fall into my own head, I was so used to it by now that the focus came easily. But a flash of bright white in the midst of the darker part of the forest caught my eye, and just as soon as it had appeared it was gone. Startled, I stopped on the path and turned all around me. The glimpse I’d seen was too big to have been an animal; that meant someone else was here. I would’ve been scared, but as usual I was too curious for my own good. Feeling that I had nothing to lose, I stepped off the path and made my way deeper into the untamed brush, intent on finding whomever it was back here.

 

I had been walking for only a minute or so when I saw it again, but this time it was accompanied by a full body, the white I realized had been the long robe-like garments it wore. And the it happened to be a man, albeit one with long hair flowing past his shoulders. One moment he was there and the next he had disappeared, his whole body seemingly shifting in and out of existence in waves. He reappeared further away into the trees and I stepped closer to get a better look at the man; maybe he was an actor hired to look like noble of the past and he worked here at the palace like the others, or maybe my hunger had caused me to hallucinate but instead of burgers and pizza I saw beautiful men instead. What that said about my mind was something I tried not to think too deeply about as I walked after the guy, doing my best to not creep up on him.

 

He seemed to be walking now, no longer flashing in and out like he’d done before. I called out but he didn’t respond, his face upturned towards the sky until he finally stopped walking in the midst of a small clearing, the naturally made space receiving more light as the thick branches overhead had thinned out. I picked up my pace until I was close enough that I was sure he should’ve heard me, but still he didn’t even flinch at the sound of my voice. Most people probably would’ve just left him alone, he did look as if he knew what he was doing and maybe he wanted his solitude. But no one had ever accused me of being the type to leave anything alone. Instead I reached out to touch his shoulder and then he was gone away again in an instant, my hands simply slipping through him as though he’d been nothing but air in the first place.

Startled at the apparition, I stepped back quickly but nothing was behind me and it seemed that whatever it had been was now gone. I breathed out a sigh in irritation and looked around myself, finally realizing that I didn’t know where I was. I was much further away from the palace then I’d imagined I had gone, and I could only just make out the tops of its slanted roof above the outline of the surrounding trees.

Disgruntled over my encounter with the man-ghost and more than a little shaken, I tried not to think of what the phantom had truly been. The palace was old; perhaps spirits still lingered here. My belief in the supernatural had naturally been influenced somewhat by Korean culture over time, it’s stories rich with unexplained occurrences and mystical creatures.

Feeling uncomfortable by myself in the clearing now, I began to turn back to the palace, my eyes on the bits of it that I could still see, hoping it would lead me out of the forest. But I hadn’t taken two steps before the ground beneath me shuddered and the world around me spun and shimmered into a dizzying blur, and I felt even myself losing form and becoming fluid like my surroundings. I tried to reach out, to grasp at the trees that had been in front of me, but my fingers touched only air and quickly the sensation of falling overtook me.

I stumbled and tried to correct my footing but then there was a force that pushed on me, bending my back down and making me curl into a protective ball. I knew I was screaming, could feel the harsh breaths leaving my mouth but there was no sound in the space that I was in that I could distinguish, and as the spinning continued it moved faster and faster until I could no longer take a deep enough breath. I gasped at the lack of air several times before spots clouded my vision. I thought that this must be the feeling of drowning before I finally felt myself lose the fight and slip into unconsciousness.

 

 

 

A jostling motion makes me come to, the side of my head cracking into wood of some kind and jarring me hard enough for me to yell out. Abruptly the bouncing stops and light is shed into the box-like space I’m in. I only have seconds to take in what’s around me before a hand reaches inside and slams me back against the wall. In a matter of seconds I’m lost again to unconsciousness and the world around me dims into nothing.

I wake up again, this time with a gasp caught in my throat and I look around, turning my head wildly while trying to process what I’m seeing. Trees and a view of the palace have been replaced with wood paneling and instead of the last traces of winter snow underneath my back, I’m on a cot- like seat, it’s cushion barely more than piled on sheets it’s so thin. I’m still moving but my surroundings have changed from the dirty carriage-like place I had been in before into what must be the upgraded version, its rough movements still familiar. It’s been several days already and the people who’ve taken me don’t respond to my cries or pleas, they don’t even feed me more than water and each day I’ve become weaker until I can’t even think of escape.

 

Somehow, I had vanished from where I had been, from when I had been. But I had no clue where I’d ended up. The only thing I knew was that the people who held me captive didn’t reply to English or Korean, and I wondered where on earth I really was or if they just meant to ignore me. But I knew I couldn’t be in my own time period; when they had let me out for the first time, I had tried to run. Quickly though I realized there was no where for me to go. We had been in the middle of a forest, the lush trees and sounds of wildlife making me pause too long until they had snatched me back; more importantly the lack of civilization made me realize that something was wrong. They had put me in what felt like primitive handcuffs after that and then denied me food. I had tried and failed to gain their attention day after day, trying all the languages I knew to call for help. But there were no answers, just the sounds of the group of twenty or so men and their alien words lingering in the air.

 

It was the fourth day when the cage I was in finally stopped moving. I rose weakly from the rags; the heat of the recent days having made it almost impossible to breathe in the tight confines. Sweat coated my body and my natural hair in its twists hung limply around my face, the pins I’d had holding them in place long gone. The door to the carriage opened and I was pulled out into the light of day, stumbling as the sun hit me directly in the face. Words were thrown at me but I didn’t understand their meaning until clothing was pushed at me and hands grabbed at my clothes roughly. Holding back a scream, I forced myself away from their ministrations and moved a little ways away to change. I suppose I should’ve cared about what they planned to do to me next, but starvation and the mild heat I seemed to be experiencing had made me numb to everything.

The material they had given me was made of a light cotton that had several layers to it, the greyish-green fabric meant to have two under layers and one over top, almost like a robe. It reminded me of the outfits worn by servants in the Kung Fu movies I used to watch, the crisscrossing material lightweight and flowing. I changed my clothes quickly but I was reluctant to leave my own things behind, the once rose-colored sweater coated in brown spots and the blue skinny jeans that I’d worn having faded in the days of my captivity. But I had little choice in the matter; the men took my clothing from my hands and pushed me back into the carriage, shutting me behind its walls once again. I moaned lightly as we continued on for several more hours, but thankfully the heat inside my cage lessened enough for me to breathe normally again. And more importantly, soon enough I heard people.

 

Voices speaking and the general noises of life could suddenly be heard clearly and the further along we went, the louder it became. And these voices spoke in a language I understood, the tones of Hangul welcome after so much time being unaware of what was said around me. But the sounds were off somehow, not quite like the words I knew. It was a long moment before I realized what it made me think of, and the clarity brought along panic. It sounded ancient because it was; the kidnapping, the carriage and the clothes all made sense. I had only seen the past on TV, but now I was living it, the Joseon era come to life. And these men meant to sell me.

Hesitantly I looked through a hole in the slats of the wooden walls and strained my eyes to see beyond. What I saw was an old-style city, richly attired people mingling on one side of the street and in the same place the homeless cried out for aid. Horses held goods of all kinds and shops and stalls had be set up in the streets, the buildings made of a rough stone in the nicer places, the other ones simply wood. The shopkeepers and people who manned the tented stall called out their wares loudly in the streets as people passed by and the delicious smells of cooking food merges with the pungent odor of city living, the masses of people producing waste that only a proper sewage system could assuage. Whatever they currently had just wasn’t able to keep up and I tried to not breathe too deeply, but since people weren’t walking around with their noses covered, I could only assume they were used to it.

 

Still, even with the smell it was better than being in the forest; I could potentially run here. But I had no clue where I was and despite my era appropriate clothes, I didn’t exactly look like everyone else. I had no money or prospects, and at the moment I didn’t even have a means of escape. There was little I could do but wait for an opportunity to present itself.

 

We came to a stop only an hour after we’d been in the city and I felt the hard thud of the palanquin being set down. Immediately the door was thrown open and thick link of chain was attached to my cuffs and I was brought out like a dog on a leash. It took a moment to get used to the dazzling sunlight of mid-morning but when my eyes had adjusted, it felt as if I was living in the future once again. In front of me was Gyeongbokgung palace and I was back where it had all started. 

One man pulled me along behind him and I went unresistingly, awestruck by the palace’s familiarity; it was as if I had only seen a ghost of it in my future but now it shone in all its glory. Banners flapped and waved in the breeze and the spaces that had once been filled with tourists were now lined with people fully decked out in traditional Korean clothing, the styles varying from person to person, each one in brightly colored fabrics that pleased my artistic eye. And the people stared at me, an African American woman in their midst. Some wore shocked expressions but others turned their noses up at me, ignoring the procession as if it wasn’t taking place.

We had come from the west gate’s entrance and I finally understood that these men were merchants, not able to pass through the main gate like I had done before. I looked at the surroundings as we went past the palace entry, the Haechi creatures now even more ferocious than before and instead of an empty courtyard, it was lined with people on all sides, standing in rows like toys soldiers in their finery, all looking forward to one man. Our small convoy didn’t stop at the back where we had entered but continued on moving ever closer to the inner palace. I looked ahead and almost choked at the sight. In front of me and raised up on a dais sat a king and his entourage surrounded him. Adorned in a simpler style than most of his courtiers, the older man who sat on the throne narrowed his eyes in speculation as we came forward, his eyes wary but alight with interest.

But that wasn’t what gave me pause, I had expected this to happen as soon as I’d understood where and when I was. No, what was shocking was the man standing to the far left of the king, the one dressed in pristine white. I saw him as clearly as I’d seen him in the forest only a few days ago, and here he was in startling reality.

 

No longer a ghost, his expression was bored as he took in the proceedings, the only move he made was to tilt his head slightly to the right as he took in my appearance. His hair was still past his shoulders but this time a queue of it was held up with a gold ornament, and on his feet were sturdy boot-like shoes, different from those around him whose fashion was much more ornate both in color and design. And that face, it was beautiful. A high brow, the perfectly sized nose with an aristocratic bridge, and thin lips that were a naturally pretty pink. His eyes slanted up at the sides and they seemed to be focused on something far away. I was so caught up in my staring that the jerk I felt on my chains came as a complete surprise and I fell to my knees painfully, the stone below unforgiving.

The whispers increased when I fell until one of my captors spoke and for the first time since I’d been taken, he spoke in Korean.

“Your majesty, we come before you today with gifts from foreign lands. Spices and jewels from the lands in the south, and this woman here, from past the great seas.”

The words were slightly off but I still managed to understand what my purpose was now that they had brought me here and I was pulled forward again until I rose halfway, presenting me along with several chests that were opened in front of the king. I watched covertly as the people in the courtyard tried not to be too conspicuous in their admiration of the treasure that was displayed before the Joseon ruler, his own eyes still set in the angry squint.

The men who offered me to the king were still bowed as the leader finally spoke.

“We have no use for this foreigner among the palace’s naegung. We will instead give this woman as a concubine to one most deserving… Come forward General Min.”

 

The ruler’s voice was deep and commanding, his tone and words ones that are hard for me to understand even with my knowledge of the language. I suddenly wished I had watched more historical dramas than I had, thoughts of Hwarang distracting me until I saw the man from the clearing move to face the king, kneeling at his feet in a low bow. My heart beat picked up its pace at the sight.

“General Min, you will take this woman as a sowon into your house and will treat her as a gift from the king.” His voice boomed again and I felt ice slide into my bones. He was giving me away to this man, this general. They had passed along a human life, my life so easily.

“You honor this general,” the man still kneeling acknowledged, his deep and emotionless voice matched the coldness in his gaze. He rose from his bow and waved his hand once. Quickly, guards rushed over and took my chains from the hands of the men who had taken me. Unlocking me from the iron covering my wrists, they instead surrounded me and walked me out of the palace square amid the loud whispers of all who had witnessed the exchange. As they propelled me forward, I had no way of knowing what would happen next and I looked back once more to stare at the man whose appearance in the future changed my fate.

 

 

 

 

 

A/N: Woohoo! Hey all my pretties what up? We have us a new story here and I'm super happy you guys decided to check it out! Yeah it's new and for me you know I love a realistic fic but come now, this is gonna be cool, say it with me! Also y'all saw how long this was right??? Ok so I plan on making all my chapters similar in length so what that means is that I will be slow on updates. I know, it and I'll try my best to be proactive but please bear with me! I seriously love hearing your comments and with this being new for me, I want all the feedback I can get! Please COMMENT, UPVOTE, and SUBSCRIBE for updates and for more crazy. Much Love <3 (P.S., who else loves the idea of Suga with long hair? YAS!)

Like this story? Give it an Upvote!
Thank you!
Andreacnushin
We have updates! Come and check them out guys!

Comments

You must be logged in to comment
TONNTONN #1
Chapter 10: So glad you had a chance to update . I enjoy this story so much
sysychou #2
Chapter 10: Thank you soooo much. I really enjoy the story i was worried that you would not update.keep up the good work
ThinkPinkTink #3
Chapter 10: Yes! Thank you for the update! It’s nice to see them convene and interact lol
Sharo001
686 streak #4
Chapter 10: Thank you for the update, I’ve really missed this story. I love that they are communicating without words and making so much progress. They simply ‘get’ each other. It was also great that he did not take offense at her forthright manner. He treats her like an equal. Lastly, it sounds like court intrigue will be invading on their time soon.

P.s. I picked up Keys to Happiness.👍
gnoboange #5
Chapter 9: Please update
originalria
#6
Chapter 7: I love the premise of the story! I’m a few chapters in and ready for General Min and Kaia to finally converse with one another. Please update when you have time!
sysychou #7
Chapter 9: Oh my god. Finally.i was waiting for this update. It always seems too short. This is my favorite story. Keep uploading don't leave us waiting too long
Sharo001
686 streak #8
Chapter 9: Welcome back, and thank you so much for the wonderful update. This is one of my favorite stories.😊

Kaia is resourceful, I could never have imagined that she would find a way to cook breakfast, much less pancakes and bacon . Even better than all the yummy fare, was the fact that the general joined her. I would say their first meeting went very well. One quick question though. How is it that he referred to himself as her husband? I didn’t think a concubine was usually considered a wife? Anyway, can’t wait for them to have another encounter, as each one is already finding the other of interest.
TONNTONN #9
Chapter 9: Thank god your back I have been waiting for a new chapter.. I love this story can't wait till you upload more chapters.. Be well and have a safe and wonderful Thanksgiving..
sisdels #10
Chapter 9: Thank you for the update! Please don't leave us hanging so long again. I really like this story, and would like to see it through to the end.

Also, I really enjoyed your book. 💜