How To Kill A King:

Episode One

The two proctors – middle-aged women dressed in green-blue robes – walked between rows of young ladies, all vying for the position of the King's consort, dressed in their finest dresses. They were gathered outside, as they weren’t able to fit everyone inside the Academy’s exam hall, and the proctors couldn’t be bothered to supervise two testing stations. 

The Consort’s Exam.

It was one of the King’s newest policies. The ministers had thrown quite a fit over it, as traditionally only the daughters of noblemen were allowed to become the King’s consort. Commoners could only be concubines, glorified courtesans until the King bores of them. Imagine the horror of it all: a commoner in the position of a potential Queen and Queen Mother. 

The King certainly had a rebel inside him, Min-jun thought. How long will it take for them to turn on you, your Majesty?

Min-Jun would die before he let those half-witted ugly men take his kill from him. Over his dead body, they’d take him. 

‘59. What is the King’s favorite color?’

Really though, some of these questions were just ridiculous. Min-jun would need to have a talk with the test writers afterward, results be damned. 

He wrote down ‘red’ nonetheless. The King probably liked the color, considering the amount of blood he continued to spill for no fathomable reason. 

Left were five hundred questions about politics and good manners only the privileged, educated masses would know. What a measured step this was. The King might’ve opened up his court to commoners, but few commoners held the knowledge to pass his evaluations. Without Mother’s help, Min-jun would’ve certainly failed. 

Without Mother, he wouldn’t even be here in the first place.

He was the first to stand in the neat rows of applicants, his clothing ratty when compared to the rest. At his old job, he wouldn’t have been caught dead in such a drab array. He would’ve made sure to have been found dead in a ditch in only his finest. Living as a commoner had taken that away from him, but that was the only thing he missed about that place. Well, that and Su-jin.

Some of the applicants raised their heads as he tread between them, his footsteps barely audible against the stone path, even in the silence of the courtyard. The ones who noticed him were also the ones with the most elegant attire, all patterned silks and vibrant colors, their hair braided with gold pins on the tops of their scalps. In their eyes, only suspicion grew. He should’ve taken his time. Now they all thought he’d cheated. 

“Name?” 

“Hae Min-jun.” 

“Sangmin?”

“Yes.”

The woman stuck her hand out to him, her hands veined and perfectly manicured, nails polished like thin sheets of glass. She wore green-blue like the rest of the servants, but her hair had been pinned into place with a gold pin. Wealthy. 

Min-jun handed her his test. She examined it at a lethargic pace, her eyes half-closed. Then, rather abruptly, her eyes met his. 

“Your arms.” 

Again? He had been thoroughly probed before the test as well. Her hand took hold of his wrist and turned his arm, looking for ink. There was nothing. He didn’t need to cheat. All of the answers had been drilled into his mind long ago, even if they hadn’t been in this format. 

“Inside.” She gestured toward the wooden doors behind her, darkened by the shadow of the slate roof. “A servant will tend to you.”

Two servants dressed in pastels opened the door, their gazes lowered. Inside, there were three more, all around the same height, their hair pulled into nearly identical braids. They bowed their heads as he entered. One of them stepped forward. 

“Come. We will prepare you for the interview.”

. End of Chapter .