A chill went down his spine, as he rested his chin on his knees, his arms wrapping around them. The King was moving at an alarming rate. They had only properly met a few minutes ago. Did he intend to make love to him tonight, or were they simply to sleep beside one another? Either way, Min-jun hadn’t expected this. Distance and suspicion, maybe, the sickening gaze of a murderer on his back. Perhaps they’d meet face-to-face once a month or so, as the King preoccupied himself with the other consorts, the ones capable of producing an heir. Min-jun would slowly seduce him with his wit and charms, poisoning him in small doses, and the King would be dead by next spring. 

What was his play here? No one could possibly gain this much interest in a stranger. 

Oh, damn it all! He stood up abruptly, head spinning. Whatever the King’s schemes were, he was getting nowhere by just wrinkling away in the bath. 

He reached over to the top of the screen, where a white towel hung. Leaving the bath, he dried himself off quickly, wringing water out of his hair. Then he dressed in the clothes the King had left him: White undergarments, and a light blue and white ensemble. The sleeves were a bit big on him, but the jeogori and jokki fit snugly around his waist. The baji were similarly well-fitted. They must have a marvelous tailor if they were able to create perfectly measured garments for someone they had never met. So this is what it means to be a member of the royal family. 

“You look lovely,” the King said, standing in the doorway. He carried a wooden platter of food. It smelled delightful: roast pheasant swimming in a fragrant sauce, a vegetable soup, and a bowl of various toppings over rice. The King set the platter down on the lacquered table in the center of the room. Min-jun didn’t budge, even though the food looked as delicious as it smelled. Violet eyes raked over him, from head to toe, taking in his every movement. He might not be the cold, cruel man Min-jun had expected, but he was clearly skeptical of something. “Will you not eat?” 

“I’m not very hungry.” 

The King took a bowl for himself and started ladling the soup into it. “Sun said you haven’t eaten since this morning. Come, eat something. I’d hate to have you wake up in the middle of the night due to an empty stomach.” 

Eating food straight from the palm of the King’s hand might’ve been an unpleasant experience Min-jun had prepared himself for, but the King’s offer was too suspicious to ignore. The food and drink could be spiked with poison, or worse, a truth serum. Truth serums tended to be difficult to brew and buy, but Kings and Emperors had a way of procuring the rarest prizes. Min-jun had drunk it only once, while serving rich clients at his old job. They were tasteless and potent and vile, wringing secrets out of the victim more effectively than any torture device. 

“What are you considering,” The King asked, “that you look so apprehensive?” 

It was too suspicious to opt not to eat as well. It could confirm any doubts the King might’ve had. 

Min-jun sat down across from the King, picked up a set of metal chopsticks, and began to eat. He started with the soup, piling his bowl up with noodles and then adding the broth. It was light and savory, a little sweet, and just enough for Min-jun to realize he was famished. 

“Good, isn’t it? Ji-won made it all. Ah, I helped chop up some of the vegetables, and Hye-jin stirred the broth for a while.”

Min-jun used his chopsticks to stab through a carrot. “The vegetables are a bit chunky.”

The King laughed. “I suppose I still need some practice.”

“Indeed,” Min-jun said. Even the noodles were perfectly chewy. Ji-won’s skills were truly commendable. 

“So,” the King said, wiping at the corner of Min-jun’s mouth, “where did you say you were from?”

“Mul Province. The lake towns.” Nothing happened. It seemed the food was clean. 

The King frowned. “Did you just lie?”

“I apologize. I was checking to see if you remembered, your Majesty.” He put on a coy, flirtatious smile, relaxing now. “Your memory serves you well, I see.” He took a piece of the pheasant and submerged it in the broth. “Yes, I’m from Dal Province. The mountain villages in the west to be exact.”

“Must’ve been cold.”

“In winter, yes, but I still believe that summers in the mountains are among the most beautiful.”

“Well then, you must take me there someday,” the King said, leaning his chin on his hand. “Though I must say my tolerance of the cold is rather low.”

Min-jun swallowed, leaving the taste of maple in his throat. “You grow to like it.”

“With you as my guide, I’m sure I will.” 

How tasteless. His flirtations had no style to them. Min-jun almost wanted to give him some pointers. 

They continued their meal until every plate had been cleared. The King responded ever gracefully as Min-jun flirted with him, and when he realized there was no more food or drink left to consume, his eyes met the King’s. 

“Are we –” Min-jun started.

“Yes?”

“That is to say, were you planning on–”

“Hmm?”

Oh, come now, Min-jun, he told himself, this isn’t the first time you’ve asked a man if he wanted to have sex with you.

“I’m just wondering what your intentions were, sleeping in the same room with me.”

“Oh.” The pieces seemed to click into place for the King. “Oh, it was nothing indecent,” he reassured, waving his hands in front of him. “Hye-jin likes her space, and Sun and Ji-won, well, they like to share their space. Since we’re to be married anyway, I figured it would be alright for you and I to sleep in the same room together. Was I wrong? I can go sleep somewhere … else.” The King’s eyes swept over their surroundings. 

“No.” Min-jun took his hands, biting the indignance rising in him because he had just touched the King of his own volition. “No, this arrangement suits me well. I will go get ready, then.”

“Alright.” The King smiled as Min-jun rose, but before he could disappear behind the screen, that placid mask fell. Somewhere in their conversation, Min-jun must have said something wrong.  

. End of Episode .