How To Kill A King:

Episode 4

*TWO WEEKS LATER*

“You’re going to get in, Min-jun.” Hyun-woo sat on the floor near his desk, meticulously peeling an orange. Min-jun paced in front of him, gnawing on his lip, his fist drawn close to his mouth. What would happen if he wasn’t selected? Mother had never specified, never acted like he might not become the King’s consort. What would happen to Su-jin? 

No. He was being silly. Mother would never cut off Su-jin’s access to her medicine just because he failed the first time around. 

Then again, she wasn’t prone to mercy.

Something cold and sweet entered his mouth. Hyun-woo had pushed an orange slice between his lips, looking unimpressed. 

“Sit down,” he told him, moving back to his spot. “Your pacing is making me nervous.”

He sank down to the floor, as if his knees had given in. Their room was quiet save for the muffled sound of another orange being peeled. It made him nervous. His fingers began to drum against the table, almost painful. Hyun-woo shoved them off.

“God, you’re a mess. Honestly, what’s the worst that can happen?”

I fail and that menace of a King continues to live with the blood of my parents on his hands. Min-jun bit his tongue. No one else knew of his desire for revenge, nor Su-jin’s reliance on Mother’s aid. They wouldn’t understand. 

“I don’t enjoy failing, Hyun-woo.” 

He pointed his knife at him. “That pretty face of yours has made you too accustomed to getting what you want. Here, eat. It’ll make you feel better.”

Right, he was too pretty to reject. That was what Mother always said. He was too pretty and clever and he had all the tools of seduction at his beck and call. 

“I need some air,” he finally breathed, stumbling a bit as he stood. Hyun-woo watched him go, knife held mid-cut. 

“Don’t stay out too long.” 

“I know.” 

He raked a hand through his loose hair. Usually, he’d wear it up. There was too much of it to keep it all under control, from his scalp to his hips, but he couldn’t be bothered right now. The black strands caught between his fingers like ink stains. He leaned back against the stone wall of the building. A few people were drunkenly making their way inside. Some of them noticed him, recognizing the detective that kept waking them up in the middle of the night chasing criminals. They all lived in that ruin of a building, thirty of them, all barely acquainted with one another and yet too intimate to be strangers.

He heaved a sigh, watching leaves drift off trees. What he wouldn’t give for a drink right now. His nerves were completely shot. Hyun-woo would kill him if he smelled even a drop of alcohol on his body, though. Nothing could get past him, especially not after that one time when Min-jun passed out in the middle of the street and got himself kidnapped (entirely not his fault, if you must know). 

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a young man skipping toward him, a satchel full of scrolls at his side. At this hour? It could only mean one thing. His chest felt painfully tight for the way his heart was beating.

“Hello, Min-jun-nim,” the man sang, coming to a stop next to him. He dug around in his bag, eventually bringing out a scroll tied together with a red string. “An invitation from the palace.”

“Thank you,” he said, bowing slightly, his hands tightening around the scroll. An invitation. To the palace. In three days. He’d passed.  

Now he really needed that drink. Min-jun bit his lip, looking back toward the building, his hand rubbing at his neck. Surely, Hyun-woo wouldn’t notice if he took one cup of wine. A cup would be fine. 

Min-jun nodded to himself, turning on his heel to take the path to the city and all the blissfully numbing alcohol it produced. He only managed to take a few steps before a hand grabbed onto his arm and pulled him back toward the entrance of the building. 

“Knew I couldn’t trust you.”

“It’s one drink, Hyun-woo,” he said, bumping into him on their way inside. 

They were back in their little room. The mattresses had been rolled out now, the table having been moved to the corner. Hyun-woo released him, sitting down on one of the mattresses and shuffling through some of their reports for Friday. Ah, Min-jun would probably be long gone by that time. “With you, it’s one drink and then a dozen more.” 

“I got in,” Min-jun said.

Hyun-woo’s hands paused on the pages of the reports. He didn’t look up, fixing his gaze down, as if in thought. He flipped a page, and muttered, “Congratulations.”

“So we should celebrate.”

“No."

. End of Episode .