Her heart quavered when Minseok removed his hand and turned away. The dainty smile never leaving his lips as he stared at the table.

The silence resumed despite her hiccupping. Another tray of food arrived for Minseok. The servant shooting her another eyeful as she took her leave. Namjoo expected the peace wouldn’t last long.

She was right.

Midway through Minseok’s meal, another servant bounded up the steps urgently.

Bowing politely to Minseok, he shifted toward her, careful not to look into her face. Lowering his head, eyes parallel to the floor, he explained, “Madam Kim has called for you.”

Minseok abruptly swiveled to her. She peered at him, curious.

Trouble was absolutely brewing. It was her turn now.

“That’s Lady Chunghee’s mother,” he answered her unspoken question.

Pressing her lips together Namjoo stood up. Minseok rose with her.

“I’ll come with you.” He offered. Unable to hide the concern drifting across his face. Insistent on shielding her.

“No,” Namjoo rejected. “I will go myself.”

Disapproval slithered across his face. About to retort, but after a second he said nothing. Stepping aside Namjoo walked toward the servant who led her down the courtyard.

If Chunghee was stingy her mother was probably two times the . And the shattered teapot, Namjoo would probably be condemned for that.

What would they do with her this time?

Anxiety crawled underneath her skin. Namjoo twirled her fingers together. Honestly uneasy. Doing the math wasn’t so hard. Here, she was an intruder. Pressed into a powerless position, and she knew what powerless was. So far it hadn’t been hard to understand what position she was in. The moment she arrived here she was aware she wouldn’t be returning to the bathhouse. That place was long gone.

The only question, was now what? Who would she be dealing with here? Namjoo would need to relearn everything in this new environment.

One thing she had learned so far; no one liked her.

The male servant arrived in front of another building. Paused, turned to her, bowed, and left. Namjoo watched him disappear around the corner. This building was immaculately taken care of. Not a hint of dust, spider webs, bugs or pests. The double wide doors were open. A high step led her inside. Noting that no one was outside to greet her, Namjoo invited herself in. Further into the place, two young girls stood on each end. Their uniforms identical and somewhat resembled her own. So, Namjoo figured, they were of the same kind. One of them scampered off when they saw her.

“This way,” the girl left behind swiveled to lead her into the home. Namjoo obliging went with her. Eyeing the oval ceramic vase. A golden lion statue. A jaded storage box tucked into the corner. Polished black marble drawers that gleamed beautifully. Discovering herself subconsciously deducting how much these were worth in modern day. At her museum the antiques would be put on display in glass cases to show off how those in the ancient era had lived exquisitely. Each item labeled with a story; whose family it belonged to, to what madam and young woman used it, how it came from overseas into the country.

All this drifted through her head. Unaware they had reached their destination. Namjoo bumped into the young woman’s back.

“This is her?” an edgy voice made Namjoo turn.

In a sun room, a woman perched on a futon, gave her a condescending onceover. A feminine flowery blanket had been shoved aside. Behind her stood a portable foldable wall with painted illustrations of birds soaring over high mountains. A classy background for a reputable woman. On her ring finger was a huge prominent jade ring.

Chunghee sat beside her. Expression steadfast. Clearly, of disdain. But her mother appeared even fiercer beside her cub. Both women in their pretty robes.

Namjoo felt like she’d just stepped into a bear cave.

“You may leave,” she spoke to the younger woman.

A nod then she lowered her head and shuffled out backwards. Pivoting once the madam was out of her view.

“What is your name?” Madam Kim called out.

“I’m Namjoo.”

“Where are you from?”

“Uh…well…” Namjoo struggled to answer. She ended up with, “Here.” Because it was easiest.

Both women stared at her like she was retarded.

“Which family are you from? Where are your parents?”

Her eyes slid to the side. Silently damning herself. There was no way to answer that in a way they would understand.

“Is that important?” Namjoo asked.

“Perhaps they got rid of her, mother,” Chunghee spoke above hearing level.

Madam Kim smugly grinned agreeing. Namjoo remained silent. It was best to ignore the fight they wanted to start.

“Stay here,” Madam Kim stated.

Namjoo stared at her. “Why?”

“I’m saying, dear Namjoo,” she said a little too sweetly, “that from today on you’re to serve this house only.”

Namjoo ran it through her head. Measuring the weight of her words, her tone, her voice, her expression. Yet nothing about the broken teapot. Where was the revenge?

Fact sunk in again.

She really was no longer going to the bathhouse. Her era here now was just beginning.

As a menial servant.

“Just…this house?” Namjoo repeated.

Madam Kim flicked her finger to the ceiling, “You’ll be cleaning,” to the floor, “sweeping,” to the wall, “dusting,” to her, “getting rid of everything that annoys us. And you’ll be serving us tea, snacks, and running errands.”

“Mother,” Chunghee nudged her.

“You’ll specifically be serving Chunghee,” Madam Kim finished. “She’ll be your Miss from now on. Do you understand?”

They stared at each other. Recognizing the conniving gaze flying through Chunghee’s irises. Namjoo bit down on her teeth.

She was really being put to the test.

ꞜꞜꞜꞜꞜ

“This will be your quarters from now on,” the woman who had woken her that morning was back.

Instead of handing her the pillow and blanket she’d come with, she tossed them onto the floor.

Glaring at her she said, “I heard you ate with the Commander.” Hissing, “Don’t do it again.” Huffing, she walked off.

Namjoo sighed. Why was everyone being so needlessly difficult? Stepping into the storage shed, she shook the blanket. Coughing when dust started flying everywhere. Spotting a sudden figure on the other side when she lowered it and yelped surprised. Clutching the blanket against her body she stared at the woman she didn’t recognize.

First, look at her status. Namjoo observed the woman’s wardrobe. Something similar to what Chunghee wore. Less fancy, but expensive. Her beauty was refined in a way that you had to look twice to see her significance.  

“Do you need something?” Namjoo asked.

“Come with me.” She simply said then without waiting she turned to walk away.

Left dumbfounded, Namjoo dropped the blanket and scurried after her. Once she caught up Namjoo hesitated when she discovered she was walking beside her. Dropping several steps back Namjoo quietly followed her. Waited for her to order her around.

They crossed over one of those tiny bridges to the other side. Coming across identical buildings. A wide yard. Maids and servants at their own tasks paused to bow to the woman who had yet to say a word. They shot Namjoo a curious eye as they continued their work.

“This is the worker’s quarters,” the woman told her.

Namjoo stared at the large buildings around her that housed all the workers here. Four large, rectangular buildings spread out. She spotted wash basins beside the lazy river that ran through the Jin manor where some were scrubbing their uniforms. Others quietly chatting as they walked around.

She was a little appalled. Recalling the tiny abandoned tool house she’d been thrown into. With a dirty blanket. A flat pillow.

When her attention came to the woman had already walked off. Swiveling around Namjoo rushed after her.

“You…who are you?” Namjoo asked. Careful to remain a few steps back. Her shoulders stiffened when the woman paused.

“Jin Suji.” She glanced over her shoulder but not all the way that Namjoo saw her face. Then she continued on leaving Namjoo to follow.

“But…why…” Namjoo didn’t understand what just happened. Why did she just show her where the worker’s quarters was? To show her she was being mistreated?

“How was breakfast with the Commander?”

Tensing, Namjoo pressed her lips together. Uncertain if she would react the same way as the woman who’d woken her.

Namjoo went with, “I know I wasn’t supposed to.”

“He’s a nice man,” Suji said. If not mistaken, Namjoo detected hints of affection in her tone. She glanced ever curiously at the woman’s back. “In any given situation, he can lighten it up. If Chunghee takes it too far, you can ask him for help.”

This was the first time Namjoo was caught off guard. So…there was a nice one among the sisters.

“Then,” without realizing it they’d reached her tiny place, “have a nice rest.”

As abruptly as that, Jin Suji left her.

Namjoo wasn’t even halfway through fixing her bed when a servant came to call her to Madam Kim’s house. A basin of soapy water was prepared for her. She scrubbed the floor on her knees. From room to room. Wiped every item in the house with a damp wash cloth. Got yelled at for stepping over wet floor and was forced to scrub the floor again, because of how indecent she was.

That was all she got done before she was sent to bed. So far Namjoo had only eaten a bowl of soup, but all the energy had already diffused. She laid down with an empty stomach and no energy.

There wasn’t even a window in the damn storage room. It was too dark and she was uncomfortable on the hard-earthen floor. Clamping her eyes shut, Namjoo fisted the blanket. Hoping she was too tired to stay up any longer, but exhausted as she was she couldn’t seem to sleep.

Namjoo swore upon the knock on her door. Jolting up she swung the door open. Relief washing through her when she breathed fresh air. Glancing up to the sound of amused laughter. Smelling food the following moment.

Perching on the door step, Minseok comfortably leaned into the threshold. “I thought maybe you were asleep.”

Pushing the blanket off, Namjoo stepped out to sit with him. First eyeing the food, whatever it was, wrapped in cloth. “What is that?”

He revealed a soft white masterpiece. “It’s a Chinese bun with meat in the center. I stole it from the kitchen.”

Namjoo felt sweating. “Do you steal often?”

“I know a girl from the kitchen,” Minseok explained. He lifted it up to his mouth leaving her watching intently, hungrily. He paused and laughed. “It’s yours.”

The second he held it out Namjoo snatched it and took a big bite.

“Eat slowly,” he cautioned.

Gulping, Namjoo nodded and wished she had a bottle of water nearby, but in times of savage hunger it didn’t matter. She’d eat what she could.

“Did they let you eat today?” Minseok asked.

“I ate,” she assured through a full mouth.

“What did you do?”

“I worked at Chunghee’s…I mean, Madam Kim’s residence,” Namjoo explained.

Minseok was silent for a while. In that fraction of time Namjoo managed to finish half the bun. She couldn’t tell what was running through his mind.

“So,” he said as way of statement, “they sent you there, huh?”

“It’s all right.” Namjoo breathed. She didn’t want him to worry about what they might do to her.

“Do you,” he paused, struggled for bearings, and then finally asked, “would you like go with me?”

Namjoo’s grip tightened on the bun as she slightly lifted her eyes to his face. Seeing the reflection of the night in his pupils. Shining there like evanesce stars.

“Home.” Minseok turned to look at her as if he knew she’d been staring.

“Minseok…”

He turned away embarrassed. Pulling on a smile and laughed. Stretching his arm back to massage his neck, “I shouldn’t have said that.” He let out a shout. “It just gave me the shudders.”

Namjoo tried a smile, but she knew he was just trying to blow her rejection off. She didn’t have to say anything. Minseok had somehow sensed it. Perhaps he was good at reading people. And she was sorry for him.

Reverting to his calm side, Minseok said, “Madam Kim isn’t an easy woman. She runs the dynamics of the Jin household. They’re a complex family, so listen to what I tell you.”

Namjoo’s throat tightened. This being the first time Minseok was serious in front of her. Meaning he was warning her.

“Uncle Jin has four wives in total. In order there’s Madam Kim, Madam Lee, Madam Lin, and then Madam Jeong. Madam Lee’s son isn’t home, so you don’t need to worry about him. Haein and Haeji are Madam Lin’s daughters. Haein, the eldest daughter, is who you met with Chunghee this morning. Madam Lin has an acute illness, so it’s not common to see her in the courtyard. Madam Jeong’s son is also not here, but she has a daughter, Suji.”

Namjoo perked up at the name.

“I’ll let you know,” Minseok honestly said, “that it’s not just Lady Chunghee. All the girls are lined up to marry the general.”

Unable to react, Namjoo just blinked. If she had been standing she would have stumbled backwards. She hadn’t foreseen this.

“Between the madams, it’s a fight to see whose daughter will win the general’s heart,” Minseok told. “Because whoever marries him grants her and her mother power over the household. Right now, Madam Kim stands there. All the duties and decisions are made by her. Uncle Jin runs politics with the government, so she rules the house. Whoever marries the general gets to exceed her. Here is its own battlefield.”

Minseok turned to glance at her. “I don’t want you to get caught in the fight.” Namjoo’s eyes slid down.

A fight for Chanyeol…

“But,” Minseok brought her attention back, “I want you to stay.” Sweetly smiling, “Bear with it for several more days.”

ꞜꞜꞜꞜꞜ

Namjoo did. She bared with it even when Chunghee intentionally knocked the teapot while she was pouring it and burned her hand in the process. On a cleaning order, Namjoo dusted all the bedsheets, blankets, and pillows. Even made the bed, but Chunghee somehow found her bedroom a mess with items strewn all over. Charged with stealing Namjoo’s lunch and dinner was taken away from her.

Fourth day already and it turned into hell. This time she was sent into Madam Kim’s bedroom to scrub the floors. Her knees ached. Felt as if the skin on her shins were wearing out. in pain she rested momentarily. Tossing the damp cloth onto the floor to mull over the vase on the table in front of her. Somewhere in a magazine she’d seen something like it before, she swore. Moving a little closer Namjoo stared at the object to deduct whether it was genuine.

Yelping a split second later as she suddenly bumped into the table. Gasping when the vase tipped and shattered, the noise thundering. Then there was a scream behind her.

“Mother!” Chunghee screeched.

Namjoo spun around just as fast when Madam Kim appeared. Gasping an airy breath. Her eyes bulged and her hands literally shook. Mouth ajar. Namjoo thought this event was premeditated, but upon her reaction it wasn’t so.

Namjoo wasn’t given the chance to stand in her own defense as the woman yanked her up by the hair and pulled her out of the house so fast she almost fell. The pain in her head surmounted the further they trekked. Namjoo learned not to fight against the grip because it only lengthened the pain. And then she was shoved onto the ground. Skidding forward onto her hands Namjoo gasped, appalled. Stricken with a kind of immense fury she’d never experienced. Twisting around she glared at Madam Kim and Chunghee who’d walked the fastest since Namjoo became her lowly servient.

“What are you doing?” a male voice boomed. Swiveling around, Namjoo saw, for the first time, Chanyeol’s Uncle Jin. A mustached man sitting behind a hard-oak desk.

“Honey!” Madam Kim cried out. ing a finger at her, “Do you know what kind of atrocity she just committed?” Crying devil tears, she pounded her chest with a fist. Heartbreakingly exclaiming, “The Mongolian vase from my parents on our wedding day! It’s broken!” Partially sobbing, partially , “What are we going to do?”

“I saw her, father,” Chunghee chipped in. She, being the most liable witness.

Weighty silence. Then the man’s eyes passed over to her. Namjoo tried not to swallow too hard. “It’s…it’s a misunderstanding, sir. I can explain.”

“Do you hear what kind of lies she’s spewing?!” Madam Kim screamed. Crying, groaning maybe.

“Mother!” Chunghee yelled catching her fainting mom. She demanded, “Father! Do something!”

Through their moment of drama, Namjoo’s brow twitched. Madam Kim looked hardly conscious against her daughter. It no longer mattered if this was premeditated, Namjoo was already set up to be in a whole lot of trouble. With the head of the house.

Was this a two versus one or three versus one situation? A quick calculation and Namjoo was already on the losing end.

“The general is here!” a voice boomed.

Namjoo twisted around from the ground where she still was to see, at last, her hero strutting into the building.

***Sadly, I still have doubts about this story but since I started it I'll work my best to end it!

***Aiming for chapter 25!