“Madam Yeonok,” I said. “But I realize now she must be occupied. Her maid will do.”
She nodded. “Leave your lantern.”
I was ushered into a large courtyard, crowded with men and women garbed in brightly colored dresses and robes, shimmering fabric and sweeping curves. Everyone looked in one direction. I followed their gaze toward a gisaeng sprawled at the center of the courtyard, her skirt hiked up, baring her white undergarment. I glanced at the old servant, wondering if such disorder was a usual occurrence here at the House.
Her lips were pressed into a thin line of displeasure.
Approaching the gisaeng, slowly and stealthily, was a man with his robe hanging off his bare shoulder, as though he had woken from a thrashing nightmare. His hair was tied into a topknot, and loose strands were kept from falling over his face by a silk headband embroidered with gold patterns. His sword gleamed in the lantern light. With each approaching step of his, the gisaeng scrambled farther back.
“Say it again, inyeona.” His suave voice, filled with malicious humor, rang familiar—then I recognized his face. It was Young Master Ch’oi. “Say to my face what you whispered to others. I am not Ch’oi’s real son but an imposter, you said. Repeat it!”
He raised the sword and I thought he was going to kill her, but another gentleman restrained him by holding on to his arms, and by the young master’s stumbling gait it was obvious he was deep in his cups.
The old servant clucked her tongue and parted her lips as though wanting to spit out a sharp rebuke at the young master. But, changing her mind, she clucked her tongue again and said instead, “We mustn’t stare, child. Come away now.”
I followed her into the sprawling mansion through a side entrance, deep red pine beams and pillars against white walls, while my thoughts still lingered on the scene I’d left behind. With such pent-up fury behind his frosty smiles, surely Young Master Ch’oi must have harmed many others before that gossiping gisaeng.
For a moment, I wondered if I had made a grave error. Perhaps my suspicion toward Inspector Han and Officer Shim was all wrong. A ball of stress tightened in my chest. Damn it, I thought. Am I suspecting the wrong person?
But I did not have long to wrestle with this question. My concern withdrew to the far corner of my mind as the old servant led me farther down the hall. I expected to be shown to a maid, for surely the mistress was occupied at this hour, but instead I was led to sliding double doors. A maid stood on either side, their hands clasped and their heads bowed, as though they were waiting on the queen regent herself. The old servant whispered something to one of the maids, who then drew her face close to the paper screen and called out in a low voice, “Madam, a letter has arrived for you.”
I startled a step back. This was not supposed to happen. “I do not wish to disturb the mistress herself,” I whispered. “I can deliver it to the personal maid instead—”
“Enter,” came a husky voice from within.
The doors slid open to reveal a lady whose beauty so stunned me that despite my turmoil, I could not help but admire her. She reminded me of a fairy maiden with her snow-white skin, perfectly red lips, and eyes as bright as black pearls. I felt like a wet rag in comparison, with the glaring mark on my burnt face.
“Come closer, girl.”
Panic returned as I approached Madam Yeonok. She sat on the floor, garbed in a voluminous silk skirt of crimson and a jacket of a sheer black material that revealed her pale shoulders and arms. She had one leg propped up, and her elbow rested on her knee.
A maid was also present, slipping a jade pin into the mistress’s mass of coiled braids. Once that was done, she scuttled over to me. I took the letter out from the inside of my sleeve, and as I gave it to her, our fingers touched. Her eyes bore curiously into mine. I wondered if I’d erred in coming here as the maid walked off and gave the letter to her mistress.
“Whom do you belong to?” Madam Yeonok asked.
I felt light-headed with terror as she slipped two fingers into the envelope.
“Go on, answer my mistress,” the maid said, an impatient edge to her voice.
I licked my dry lips and stammered, “Inspector H-Han.”
A humorless smile tugged at the corner of Madam Yeonok’s lips. Paper whispered against envelope, and the folded sheet slid out a quarter of the way. She paused, a frown flickering, before she drew it out entirely. “What is the meaning of this?” she said, her words as cold as ice piercing through my chest. “Have you come to play a jest on me? This letter is blank.”
“The truth is…” I floundered, straining to improvise, but I could find nothing but the truth. “I only came to fetch something.”
Madam Yeonok fixed me with a stare. “What?”
“I was wondering if you knew anything about Lady O and her murder.”
The maid gasped. The gisaeng kept silent, but she could not hide the blood draining from her face or the trembling of her fingers. A sheen of sweat glistened on her brow, betraying her through the mask of anger she put on.
“Impudent girl,” Madam Yeonok said, and a spiteful laugh tinkled in the air. “Who do you think I am? I am a gisaeng, a keeper of secrets, and so is everyone in this house. Go before I have you flogged and reported to Inspector Han—”
“I have come here by Commander Yi’s orders.” The lie slipped from my lips. I’d rarely lied before, but now it was all I had. “He has set up a secret investigation. He wants to know what happened here the night of the killing.”
The gisaeng arched her brow. “And he sent you, a mere damo?”
It was true, that was all I was. A mere damo. My name, my existence, was nothing but ashes and burnt bridges. I was already hated by Inspector Han, despised by all of Kyŏn’s gang of officers.
“If you do not tell me the truth,” I whispered as menacingly as I could, “Commander Yi will send his men to search every nook and cranny of this mansion. He will beat and he will tear until the truth comes out.”
Madam Yeonok raised her chin as she examined me. A thousand thoughts flitted across her eyes, like the swift reflection of clouds over water. She had to know that for me to utter such an immense lie would be to put my life at risk. Surely, it made more sense to her that I was telling the truth.
At length, she slid her stare to the maid. “Go bring a manservant to deal with this damo, Misu-yah.”
My bravado faltered, my courage crumbled. I couldn’t risk causing a scene. “Madam, if you wish me to leave, I will leave. I have done my best to warn you.”
She remained still, and I dared to take a step back, then another, and when I realized she had no intention of stopping me, I turned on my heel. The maids slid open the doors, and the moment I stepped out, the doors shut with a clack. Cold sweat clung to the back of my neck as I stared down the hall, trying to gather my thoughts. That was it? I had come all this way just to be scared off so soon?
“Misu-yah,” came Madam Yeonok’s lowered voice from beyond the paper screen. “Burn it.”
A gasp caught in my throat. The urgent fear in the madam’s voice was undeniable.
“Now, mistress?”
“You should have burned it long ago.”
Hearing Misu shuffling toward the entrance, I hurried down the hall and turned a corner, and right then I heard the doors slide open, followed by the sound of footsteps drawing near, closer to my hiding spot. I bit my lower lip, and as quick as I could without making a sound, I rushed forward and finally managed to escape into the main courtyard. I whirled behind a pillar and kept an eye on the front mansion entrance as Madam Yeonok’s order pounded in my ears.