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