I had spent the better part of my life training in or form or another. My earliest memories involved learning a game with my then master, a man gifted in the physical arts. In order to interest my young mind in sparring, he had suggested that I learn Taekkyon, a fighting style that had once been a commoner’s pastime. I’d been hesitant at first, but I was eager to do as the children I had seen playing in the streets, their gales of happy laughter only reaching my ears as I passed by in a choheon. Back then I had wanted desperately to fit in and play like the others; my childish reasoning was that if the chance ever came, I would be the best player among them.

My immature assertions were nothing more than fanciful thoughts; I was a part of the imperial family and while my father was gone my imperial uncle rarely let me leave the harem courtyard that I’d been assigned to. I had tutors but my master was my only real company and I had no choice but to simply push my childlike desires aside in the wake of their instruction. So Taekkyon was my first foray into battle and my only form of play as a child.

The movements of my much smaller feet against those of my master’s as he taught me the basics of pum balgi or Stepping-on-Triangles, was in the beginning very difficult and required a balance that I initially struggled to develop. Taekkyon is concerned with applying both the hands and feet at the same time to unbalance, trip, or throw your opponent. Hands and feet were always used together and before I could excel at it, I spent many hours falling to the ground, my master’s encouragement that we continue increasing the more frustrated I became. I was taught martial arts for multiple reasons, but the main ones were to learn respect and etiquette; how to meditate, how to gain control of my emotions and strengthen my body. It was an easy style to learn, gentle enough for a child but when used as a man, would have deadly impact on an opponent.

When years had gone by and I could finally best my teacher, he then taught me how to use those same deadly motions with brute force and cunning. With enough quickness I could best any adversary and that had become my goal. Even when my father had been alive he hadn’t cared for me beyond my being his heir and Jeonha would have killed me sooner or later had he not had sons of his own. In order to stay alive in the imperial palace, I had to become strong. Before my master passed away, he warned me of my uncle’s plots, warned me that the yangban of the court would use me to their advantage as well. So I made a consistent effort to practice daily and even after I had been appointed general of the king’s army, I hadn’t allowed myself to go a day without the peace that the fighting style gave me. At least I hadn’t until I’d been injured.

It was a year after my initial injury and I had just begun to go through the forms of Taekkyon again, it’s constantly mobile stance making it difficult to use with a leg wound. Now that it had been reopened again, I was once more without the practice and the calm of mind that it brought to my life. My two weeks of bed rest had concluded but I wasn’t allowed to resume anything other than simple movements and I let out a sigh as I rose to start yet another day of staying indoors.

Time dragged by slowly while I recuperated and I filled my days with sending missives, granting favors, and generally managing the household. These duties I had left for GiTae to handle while I was away all these years and now I could fully understand why he had gone gray early in life. The daily maintenance of an estate as large as mine, as well as the business holdings that I’d invested in, meant that much of my day consisted of scroll upon scroll of parchment, each one needing attention and approval. I was almost sure that I’d caught GiTae smirking every morning when he brought me more documents. Thoughts of my sowon weren’t at the forefront of my mind any longer and they went further away when finally one morning GiTae announced that my leg had healed enough to begin practicing again.

He had woken me up before sunrise the next day as was my preference when practicing and I left my bed with a feeling of joy and anticipation barely contained. Eagerly I changed into my clothing of choice, simple cotton garments in a pale brown, good for deflecting the sun’s rays and keeping sweat at bay. With ease I put my hair into a high knot on my head and tied it all with a simple strip of cloth, the edges frayed from multiple uses. Dawn had yet to approach but with light steps I walked to the training grounds of my home, the area denoted only by the huge circle of perpetually trampled grass, the evidence of my constant use. Breathing in deeply through my nose and releasing the same through my mouth, I centered myself and began.

Cautiously I shifted my weight forwards and backwards, testing the muscles that had lain dormant for so long. My leg ached slightly, but it was nothing like it had been that day in the palace, simply unused muscles having to bear weight again. With my arms raised by my sides and bent at the wrists, I began the three-step motion that made up the main stance of Taekkyon. The constant motion was as familiar to me as walking, and as I moved through each set of blocks, punches, and light kicks, I fell into something like a trance, the repetition of the movements lulling me into a stupor.

My movements were shaky when I began and as muscles stretched taught over bone, I felt the familiar ache come. I would be sore the next morning but for now I enjoyed the slight burning sensation. I had only gone through the first set of my forms but already beads of sweat dripped down from my forehead and across my back. The cotton I wore absorbed it well, but as the sun rose higher in the sky, the thicker fabric attracted the heat. It was maybe two hours until I was done and by then I was drenched in perspiration.

My leg was weak and I relaxed out of my poses carefully, unwilling to sabotage the few weeks’ worth of healing I’d done. I would never be as I once was, but I wanted to be as close as I could get. It would take time but relieved of my duties to the king and his army as I was, I had nothing but days to fill.

Almost a month had passed before I deemed that my body was strong enough to handle training with my sword again. I was gratified to feel the cold steel in my hands once more, the blade like an extension of my arm. The gift had come from WonJong to me in our youth, the ornate sword so finely crafted that by rights only a prince should have it, but my cousin had never been one to keep any good thing from me, especially not because of decorum. His father had noted it around my waist on occasion but had thankfully never commented on it. The sword had been with me throughout the skirmishes with the Mongols, and just holding it again brought back memories of the battlefield. With slow and practiced movements, I fought with invisible foes, striking and lunging, dodging, and turning until I wasn’t conscious of anything but the next move.

A sharp gasp came from behind me and I spun around quickly, the lowered blade in my hands raised once again at the ready. But what greeted me wasn’t the cold mien of a killer; instead, it was my concubine.

I looked at her in her hanbok, the dress’ coloring a light pink, the hue a childish one. The long and thick hair that had hung around her shoulders in tangled masses were now styled in her hair with an intricately braided pattern and placed up high on her head. A swanlike neck was revealed, smooth and supple. Her brown skin shimmered with undertones of bronze and like any polished mirror she shone brightly in the sunlight. All beautiful but what stood out most were her eyes, the rich brown of them shot through with gold. The effect was dazzling and I stood with sword raised, all the while stunned by her grace.

With suddenly no strength left in my arms, I let my sword fall.

I wasn’t aware of how long our eyes locked but she broke away first, a panic in her face that I didn’t enjoy seeing. Without looking back she raised her skirts and left the area with quick steps, her path taking her back towards the main housing.

Unnerved by her sudden appearance and even hastier retreat, I was surprised that she had gone so far from her residence in the first place; most women of my limited acquaintance balked at moving further than the next shopping destination. But the edges of her shoes had been soiled with earth and were of a sturdier composition then yangban style would dictate. I wondered what my sowon did with her time as I wiped my body of sweat and took stock of how my form felt after it’s rigorous exercise. As I did my internal examination, the larger part of my interest was sparked yet again by the foreign creature.

Several hours later I had returned to my study, intent on completing as much work as possible before the next day. I had told GiTae of my wishes and he had complied easily, bringing me a thick stack of receipts, new business offers and horror of horrors, social invitations. These I set aside immediately in fear and disgust, but the others I worked through diligently, GiTae’s presence by my side constant. My head was bent in focus on a list of items to be procured for the servant’s new well when GiTae interrupted me.

“General forgive this small one, but the tutor you hired for your esteemed sowon has requested an audience. Would you like to speak with him?” With raised brows in wonder at what the man could possibly need with me, I nodded for GiTae to allow the man entrance.

The scholar GiTae had chosen to teach the woman of my house was thin and had an air of self-importance about himself that I instantly disliked. He bowed as he entered the room not because he respected me, but because he would lose his head if he did not.

“Great General,” he began and I bit back a snarl of annoyance, “I have news which I think you may find of some import,” he finished. The linguist stood waiting for several seconds in the hopes that I would say something, but when I did nothing but stare he continued on after clearing his throat.

“My student, your esteemed sowon, has asked me to teach her to read and write. I was reluctant to do so without your express permission General and I knew I should bring it to you to judge-”

“If my sowon requests it, comply with her wishes,” I interrupted as I bent down once again to continue to review the estate accounts, a headache already beginning to spread through my temples. I felt a smile tug at my lips despite my irritation though; she’d been here only a few months and already she made demands, a curious woman indeed. I had halfway dismissed the man from my mind entirely, but a slight cough made me raise my head and an eyebrow in question.

“Forgive me General. I thought such a thing would be inappropriate given her station-” He began but I quickly cut him off once again.

“Do you seek to tell me what I should do with my things?” I asked the impertinent man slowly, flexing fingers that had grown cramped from my wearying task. Pinning him with a sharp look, I watched as he blanched visibly.

“Not-Not at all your grace. I simply thought-”

“Then do not think,” I commanded him, my tone one of finality. Shaken, the man spoke no more but bowed low until I dismissed him with a wave of my hand. With much prostration and scraping, the man left quickly and silently, his fear palpable. When he had gone I blew out a calming breath and let my impatience flow out of me with the release of it. I wasn’t a sadist but there was an advantage to being feared and I knew how to use it well. Women could and did have learning but if there were to be exceptions made for those of lower stations, it helped if someone with power allowed it.

So then she wished to learn to write; perhaps she’d had the knowledge among her own people. But who could she write to now, so far away from anything or anyone she could possibly know? I had to admit that I was intrigued even further; I remembered the way her eyes had narrowed at me in suspicion at the palace, and earlier underneath the deep brown of them had been a glittering gold. I wondered if perhaps she would write to me.

With renewed strength and the need to meet with friends for both pleasure and business, I left the confines of my estate to go out into the wider world of the city proper. I took only my most trusted guard and we traversed the streets on foot, my choheon left behind. Voices carried from all around me as merchants sold their wares, those outside and in catering to the needs of the people. Tantalizing smells of street food caused my stomach to rumble lightly in anticipation of a good meal but I would save that for my meeting.

Ladies poured from the mass of shops in giggling groups of three and fours, their maids coming behind them while carrying purchases. All of them were of the upper classes and a few were even of the yangban, though these were guarded instead of just accompanied by their servants. The girls twittered incessantly the closer I came to one particular shop but my focus wasn’t on them. The establishment I was interested in was one that had recently become famous in our capital Hanyang for its luxurious fabrics and its new take on women’s fashion. If I was honest I knew little about it or womanly things in general but for some reason I was curious.

When all of the girls had finally passed I walked into the shop by myself, my guard stopping at the door at my request. The wooden door opened with the tinkle of chimes, the tone of them pleasing to the ear. Inside the place was cooler than the outside and I attributed the cooler air to the large and seemingly decorative pots that rested in corners of the room. If looked at closely, wisps of smoky air floated gently from the openings. Ice was the only answer and my respect for the owner went up several notches. Not only did the proprietor have enough sense to keep his place of business comfortable in all seasons, the establishment had to be doing well enough to afford the luxury.

The shop itself was two stories, the upper floor holding bolt upon bolt of clothing and fitting areas. The bottom held mannequins, each wooden body draped in the shop’s designs. Every piece I saw was delicate and well crafted, obviously what would be weeks’ worth of work going into a single garment. The price would be high to frequent here but for those with money to spend, having several pieces would speak to their status and wealth, of their keenness to be fashionable.

I stopped my perusal in front of a singular outfit, the style of hanbok looser and more casual then was popular to be worn at court. At my interest, a shop assistant had made their way over to me, the girl’s small face round and full of anticipation for a sale.

“The pale blue,” I said aloud my eyes resting on the fabric. I knew it wasn’t a practical color but I reasoned that it would look striking against darker skin, the vibrant color full of life.

“The mint green as well,” I said to the shop assistant, pointing to another outfit already created on a mannequin further into the room, this one layered. The creamy white color against the green went well together and I suddenly wanted to see the woman wear it. To see my sowon wear it.

As the prices were determined and the date set for delivery, I hummed under my breath in satisfaction. Small gifts but I could only hope my woman would enjoy them.

A/N: Hey guys! Welcome back to the story, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I had fun doing research for this chapter, fun fact about me, I love kung fu movies and those type of action movies in general. I can't wait to write the next part of this chapter (yes there is a part 2) and I'm excited to see what you all think of the General. What did you like about this chapter and what are some things you'd like to see or learn about? I love reading all your comments, they really keep me going! Thank you all for supporting me, and remember to check out my blog for info on my Patreon! Remember to COMMENT, UPVOTE and SUBSCRIBE for more content. Much love, <3!