Cravings of thick, fluffy pancakes drenched in butter and sticky with syrup caused me to wake up hungry for the fifth day in a row. My spiriting away into the past had now lasted well past the month-long territory and I had long since stopped thinking wishfully that my next morning would find me back in the present. The part of me that had initially longed to return to the future wondered what all I had really left behind. I’d had some friends sure, but no deep relationships, no romantic ties at all and my parents had been estranged from each other and from me for several years. I was saddened by that reality, but I was pragmatic about my situation, which to be frank wasn’t all that bad. Concubine or not, I’d been largely left alone by the master of the house. I had people who waited on me hand and foot and though it had been difficult to adjust to in the beginning, I had a much better grasp of the Korean language thanks to my arrogant tutor.

No, when I thought about it, what really bothered me was the food. After eating various dishes that were all served with rice, soup and kimchi for months, though deliciously filling in its own way, I wanted a hearty classic American breakfast. The eggs and bacon would be easy enough to procure in this century but how to explain to my maids what pancakes were?

“Iseul,” I questioned her that morning while she redid the twists in my hair like I had shown her. “Am I allowed into the kitchen?”

Startled, she stopped her ministrations and gave me a puzzled look as color rose high in her cheeks.

“Why-ever would jeongbu want to go there? Are your meals unpleasant?”

“Not at all, but I would like to make the food of my people,” I explained with more gravitas than I felt and a held-back laugh. I simply wanted something heavy and greasy, nothing like the light dishes that NaRi had brought to me daily, extolling the virtues of the cook all the while. “Truly you are favored,” she would natter on, “to be looked after so well. All these dishes are nourishing for the body.”

But I missed pizza and hot wings and most of all breakfast food.

“I want to cook,” I declared firmly, but inside I was still somewhat unsure if I had any control over the finer details of my life. I was very aware that though my cage was gilded, I was still very much trapped. Iseul bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly, uncertainty on her face as well. But at her confirmation, my heart leapt at the prospect of tasting American food once again, the emotions the dishes engendered made me long for it. I could remember growing up and waking to the fragrance of buttery pancakes, the sweet smell making me jump from bed eagerly.

I could barely maintain my seat as Iseul finished my hair and helped me to dress, my grin unable to be contained.

It wasn’t quite as easy as I’d imagined. Getting the two women around me to agree had actually been the easiest part and NaRi bounced lightly on her toes in excitement. As she chattered away at my side while we walked down stones steps towards the kitchen building, she explained she had never previously been allowed inside. The General was a part of the royal family and naturally those around him were cautious of his food remaining safe from any outsiders who could easily slip in poison.

It could be said that the cook herself had to be the toughest and craftiest person in the estate; she was in charge of both the servants and master’s meals, as well as those few soldiers who resided close by. Feeding so many required a heavy hand and the ability to manage lots of people all at once. Each meal was requested with a slip of paper with no words, only symbols to denote dishes; the servant would have to wait outside the kitchen until it was complete and then carry it back to their master or to wherever it had been needed. If anything went wrong, they would all be in danger of death.

I had proceeded with caution but due to my maid’s quick capitulation, I had assumed that I could enter in at my own will. But I found myself waiting at the entrance to the kitchens like everyone else had to. Iseul clucked her tongue sharply in annoyance as the smaller servants who had stopped our forward progress shook under her displeased eyes. But her fierceness was seemingly nothing against the cook’s whom they seemed to have a bone deep fear of. I was expecting the cook to be a matronly woman, who held a cleaver in one hand and spoke with vitriol laced in every sentence.

What I was met with was entirely contrasting to my wildly moving thoughts.

“Jeongbu-nim, you have graced these small ones with your presence. Is there anything that I can help the mistress with today?” A smooth voice belonged to the diminutive woman in front of me who had bowed low in respect of my station. She was plump and generally sweet-looking, but her slightly raised eyes held a wariness and intelligence that must have extended well beyond to cooking to be as young as she was but playing such an important role. And she still hadn’t invited me into the kitchen.

“You may rise,” I told her, and she responded with a nod before straightening again. “I’ve come to cook some traditional foods of my country and I’d like to use a part of your kitchen to do so. I know that you have rules when it comes to the food prepared, but only myself and my maids will be eating any of it.”

To her credit, the cook didn’t hesitate for too long now that I had clarified the reason for my visit. “As jeongbu requests, so it shall be done.”

She moved aside and finally I was granted access to the large building where several maids and young boys ran around, some tending to fires, others keeping careful eyes on roasting meats and still others keeping watch over steaming rice in various stages of completion. It was surprisingly quiet despite the amount of people who were inside, and again I wondered at the cook’s iron fist, her order over those in her domain absolute. She led me to a smaller section of the place, a singular fire crackling happily under something like a stone oven and a large cauldron sitting next to it like it was thrown out of Harry Potter movie.

It was beyond rustic and I had no knowledge of how to cook on it at all. But there were ingredients I recognized everywhere, so maybe this could be done without me ruining it.

“Cook, do you have anyone who could help us? I have never used this sort of equipment before and I don’t believe my maids have ever cooked either.” I stumbled over the words, all of a sudden realizing that my tutor had been woefully lacking in his teachings. He had never gone over any details of a kitchen or cooking words in general; I could only think that it hadn’t crossed his mind being of the upper class and assuming I wouldn’t come into contact with such things either.

The cook gave me a long look but at a sharp inhalation of breath by NaRi, the woman quickly lowered her head in subservience and called one of the children over. Ok then, I suppose I could do what I wanted.

“I need a flat surface,” I told the child and the girl who looked to be about ten years of age nodded in silence, grabbing the cauldron easily despite its heavy appearance and hoisting it on the hot oven. She flipped the lid of the large part upside down and suddenly I had my griddle.

“Nicely done,” I told the child who only stared up at me in wonder. “Grab some bowls, eggs, flower and milk. Bring them here and child can you find us some pork?” I instructed NaRi and the girl, already pulling back the diaphanous sleeves of my hanbok. To their credit both moved quickly and within a few minutes I had everything I requested. The cook had long since moved on to other tasks, but I could feel her gaze still watching, an eagle eye cast in my direction. I pretended not to notice as I cracked the eggs against the stone bowl I’d been given and poured in the flour and milk accordingly. I wanted to make enough that we would have leftovers if needed, so I stirred up more batter than I thought we would be able to eat and concentrated on my own affairs.

“NaRi, here take the oil and add in just a bit. Now pour the batter... good. And now we wait for the bubbles. When they pop we’ll flip it over.”

I took the chopsticks between my fingers and used them like a spatula, scraping underneath the pancake and quickly turning it with a flick of my wrist. It sizzled merrily on the makeshift pan and that familiar smell rose up to greet me. My pulse quickened it’s pace and my mouth began to water on instinct.

A feeling of satisfaction flitted through me the sight of the pancake, only just too browned at the edges. I encouraged NaRi to pour out several more along the lining of the cauldron lid, they would cook more evenly on the cooler edges and would take some of the guesswork out of cooking for the girl who had only just begun to learn. Iseul watched over the both of us with cautious eyes, wary of the cook and of our antics. She allowed me to hover close by but largely kept me away from the open flames once NaRi was proficient enough on her own, perhaps worried that my skirts would catch fire. But I wasn’t so stupid as that to get hurt, unused as I was to this fashion of meal preparation.

“Iseul, prepare a big plate,” I declared excitedly as the last pancake was completed. It had taken a shorter time than it would’ve on a modern stove, and I moved on to the next pieces of our meal equally quickly.

The pork I sliced into thin strips in place of regular bacon, the fatty meat quickly sizzling to crispy perfection. The scrambled eggs were easy enough to cook in the grease of the pork and within five minutes they were done. I worried over the lack of syrup until a jar of golden honey caught my eye. Anticipation made me almost as giddy as NaRi was when we finally left the overheated kitchen, both maids carrying the spoils of our war. We walked quickly, our stomachs inciting us to walk even faster on the ground back to my accommodations. I opened the sliding doors and we congregated around my table; the small fish carving was covered up neatly by the large platters of food.

“Come on, sit down and eat with me,” I invited my maids, eager to have them relax for once. I spent most of my time with them; if they were unable to treat me somewhat more normally just through common interaction, eating together would be a great way to bring that closeness.

The two women looked at each other with hesitation but in the end, they sat together at one side of my table, neither one daring to rest themselves on the cushions that lined the floor. I managed to hold back my sigh of impatience and quickly filled the plates with food instead. I passed everyone their own serving and lamented that I had no knife and fork to attack the mound of pancakes I’d taken.

I debated over using the chopsticks or the spoon-like utensil I also had to hand until I’d decided on the former. Iseul and NaRi had said a quick word of thanks over the food and we were all prepared to dig in; at least until my room’s door was slid open.

“Master,” NaRi gasped out in surprise, ducking quickly into a low bow while managing to stand at the same time. Behind me Iseul had done the same, and guiltily I wondered if the commotion had brought the reticent man out of hiding and onto my doorstep. More than two months had passed and now finally, the elusive General was in front of me.

Along with my maids I stood quickly and while they made deep bows, my own was a precise forty-five degrees, enough to show respect but also showing my level of subservience. My tutor had drilled the levels of bows into me ad nauseam, and I had learned each one dutifully. Maybe that would cover the lapse in etiquette that it was to have my maids eat with me. But a raised eyebrow was the only indication that he had seen the improper display at all, and his steward’s face behind him was just as difficult to read.

“NaRi, get the General a plate,” I managed to get out through a throat that was threatening to close.

In my haste to change out the porcelain cups I had been using as a setting at the head of the able, the fine china had fallen from nerveless fingers and crashed into each other. The broken tinkle of the pieces falling onto the wooden table seemed to echo in my chambers and I watched with bated breath as both my maids shrank in fear and then rushed to the table to clear the mess.

“Please blame these small ones,” Iseul pled in a low voice. “Madam should not have been serving, her hands aren’t used to the work.”

The General didn’t speak directly to me though his eyes lingered on mine. I kept my lashes lowered in what I hoped was the picture of innocence though my cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“GiTae, bring the dining wear from my table, the bangjja.”

The General’s steward bowed in reply and of the attendants they had brought, one was tasked to run back. It wasn’t long before maids had come in, replacing all of my pretty plates and bowls with shining bronze scored with designs that I didn’t know the meaning behind. I lamented my loss, but these would be much studier and looked of better quality; anything made of metal would’ve been more expensive, taken more time to gain that glossy color. I wondered why he would bother to change them out, but the man gave me no time to speculate.

He sat down without preamble onto one of my cushions, his legs bent with a swiftness and ease that reminded me of the training I had seen him completing before. He waved one hand and the cooling food that had been placed on my table was being distributed between the two of us by the new maids who had come in, their hands steady, heads bent low to their tasks.

A serving of the golden pancakes, eggs, and sliced pork were placed in front of the master and me, and he raised an eyebrow at the meal but said nothing. He picked up his chopsticks and gently prodded a pancake.

“Here, pour this over the top,” I hastened to say while grabbing the container holding the honey before he ate it dry. His sharp eyes found mine again and took the proffered dish from my hands, the tips of our fingers barely touching.

He didn’t drench the pancakes like I would have, but instead cut away a piece and dipped it into the gooey stuff. He brought the morsel to his mouth and chewed slowly, his face seemingly frozen. Luckily, I hadn’t been holding my breath; though the General made no sounds of either like or dislike; instead he broke off another piece and continued to eat in silence.

I picked up my own chopsticks and ripped my food into several pieces, then poured my own honey over the whole of it, enjoying the way some of the sweetness inevitably blended into the eggs and pork. I took a bite and fell into ecstasy, my thoughts of propriety and fear fading into the background in the face of good food.

Once the initial euphoria wore off, I had the presence of mind to look at the General and see his reaction. He still had that same frozen look, but his plate was almost empty. A light giggle managed to slip past my lips but I said nothing, knowing it was customary to not speak during meals. He ate delicately despite the way he had swung his sword, with vicious lethality. And once his plate was empty, he waved his hand again, and another two pancakes were added to his dish.

NaRi’s face remained carefully blank, but the poor girl's lips twitched just a little and inwardly I mourned for her lost breakfast.

As I came to the end of my own meal, the General was finishing up as well. His plate was clean once again and I let my smile show on my lips; I was happy he had enjoyed the food and perhaps he was a bit of a glutton. The prospect made me happy to think of it and I looked at the man across from me with newly found anticipation. Seeing that I was also done, the General simply waited with hands resting on his knees until several maids scurried in and around the table, intent on clearing the remains away.

“Can you take what’s left and bring it to the kitchens? My maids haven’t eaten yet,” I said to one of the girls and she nodded, her eyes revealing a trace of panic. I wondered if her other master had ever spoken to her. The maids made quick work of the food and I was left to face the General alone, the remaining people in the room simply staring at the wall, as if their presence no longer mattered. We sat but there was no sound to fill the sudden silence and until I finally thought of something to say.

“Thank you General. This sowon is appreciative of your grace.”

“Tell me your name,” the general said slowly, the eyes he rested on me almost lazy. I wondered what his was as I replied.

“Kaia, my name is Kaia,” I told him, feeling my last name would be unnecessary.

“Kaia,” he repeated back to me but when the sound made its way past his lips, the hard k sounded much more like a soft g.

“Where do you come from?” he inquired with a slight tilt of his head.

“From far away, farther than I knew a person could go,” I muttered, hoping this half truth would suffice. Another eyebrow raise was his only response and I wondered vaguely if this was a personal thing or if all Joseon dynasty men were as taciturn.

“You speak well,” he remarked with surprise coloring his tone, “did you find your lessons adequate?”

“Due to the General, this sowon has learned much,” I thanked him with a bow of my head.

“I don’t believe your tutor also had time nor knowledge to teach you culinary skills. Was this food from your homeland?”

I nodded, my eyes lowered only slightly. I studied him under my lashes, the structured lines of his jaw prominent, the rounded curve of his nose smooth. My hand itched to draw the strong eyebrows and the slash of his eyes. The General was handsome and it took me by surprise even though I had seen him before in my present. His ghostly figure had been alluring but the reality was a harsher thing. Still the real thing was very much enjoyable, enough that I wanted to commit his stern image to paper.

“My name is Min Yoongi, nephew to the king, General of the royal army. I am also your husband.” His words were somewhat stilted, as if saying them had made him uncomfortable.

Startled somewhat by his declarations, my eyes scanned his face while my heart pounded in panic. I said nothing while he seemed to think of something else to say.

“With your position comes certain rules but I will not treat you harshly, this I promise.” The General nodded again to GiTae who waved to yet another person. A young man carrying a thick package tied in white silk stepped forward and brought it to me. He placed it on the table with expectation and I looked to the General. He nodded once more, and I took that as assent. I pulled at the ties with interest and they fell away to reveal even more thin silk, this time in bright colors. I held up the pieces in the light, and each strand caught the rays of the sun and shimmered. Pieces of silver thread had been woven into the sea foam green and it was a beautiful garment.

“They’re beautiful,” I told the General with a smile, my words as sincere the bow I made to him. I would look nice in these colors, I wondered if he had picked them out on his own.

Though I had grinned at him, the General hadn’t cracked his own smile, and in fact seemed more discomfited than earlier. He stared at me for a moment or two longer until he nodded once and rose to his feet, his grace a little lacking this time. With one final nod he took his entourage and left just as quickly as he had come.

“Utterly baffling,” I said with a giggle and motioned over my maids. They exclaimed loudly over the garments and about the silk, and casually mentioned the handsomeness of the General.

“It’s good for jeongbu that the general has no other concubines to contend with.”

I snorted a laugh at Iseul’s words.

“Why do you say that?” I asked as she carried the clothes into my wardrobe, the large cabinet still mostly empty but now I looked at it with fresh eyes. I’d never received clothes from a man before in the present and now I’d been gifted some in this distant past. There had been no marriage ceremony, but he had claimed himself to be my husband, where did that leave me really and what rules would I have to abide by?

“Women are the most dangerous when their lives are threatened. The general dotes on you, if there were others, they would resent his preferential treatment.”

A slight pang of unease shot through me at her words and I thought again of my status. A sowon was still a concubine, though not a completely minor one. Would the General take a true wife, a woman who would make my days here harsh? Could I really have a future in a time so removed from my own and with a man who may have had a hand in my disappearance into the past?

A/N:

Readers: Where have you been???!!!

Author: You see, I was writing and editing for other stories and I-

Readers: You forgot didn't you?

Author: No I swear, I have 12 chapters outlined! No don't kick me! Don't toss my laptop!

Readers: Get back to work!

Hehe, hello guys. I know it's been a while, in my defense...I have no idea why a cooking scene is both too long and too short. I almost turned this into a cooking novel, you're welcome that I'm going towards courtly intrigue instead! I hope you guys liked this chapter and if you've come back to read after all this time I really appreciate you! Remember to COMMENT, UPVOTE and SUBSCRIBE. Also come check out my book on Amazon! A Silent Lover