He reached down and picked up a stray stick. Thinking he would strike me, I flinched.
“Yi, not yeuh,” he said. “Your last stroke is wrong.” With a flick of his wrist he corrected it, then threw the stick aside. I waited for him to walk off, but instead, he crouched so close to me that his quiet laugh moved the tendrils of my hair. “I see goose bumps along your neck. Are you frightened of me, young one?”
My muscles tensed.
“Perhaps you ought to be frightened, indeed. I might be the killer. Perhaps I did send the bandits after the inspector.” He leaned even closer, and as he whispered, I caught the scent of alcohol on his breath. “I did indeed want to know who Lady O’s lover was, and I did indeed want to punish him for humiliating me. What is your opinion? Am I the murderer?”
I dared to look at him, and what I saw took the fear away from me. I did not see a superior of mine whom I was helpless before, but a young man who needed to trample over others to feel better about himself. My lips parted, a thought sparking into a flame, and I had to look away to hide the beams of light in my eyes. He was not the real son, but rather a mere nephew adopted by Lord Ch’oi for no other reason than to fill the spot of a missing heir. The young master would be a man who’d have nothing but his title to guard his pride.
“Would Scholar Ahn’s death have restored your reputation, sir?” I asked.
“Not at all.”
Motives. I had no idea what Inspector Han’s motive was, but the young master’s was as clear as day. Perhaps he had indeed sent out the bandits, yet neither Lady O’s nor Scholar Ahn’s death seemed in his character to carry out. “You would have wanted Scholar Ahn alive, sir. Lady O, too. You would have wanted the entire kingdom to witness their public humiliation.”
“It is true what they say … you are too clever for a servant. Too well-spoken.”
I kept quiet. I didn’t want to tell him about Older Sister, about how her suspiciously well-educated mind had rubbed off on me. I didn’t want this young noble to know anything about my family.
“The missing nose has inspired a thought in me,” he said. “Perhaps we are all being duped by someone very near to us. I’d very much like to know who the killer is.” The roguish amusement dropped from his face, and a solemn young man watched me, annoyance gleaming in his eyes. “I was fooled once and shan’t be fooled again. Tell your inspector this: follow the trail of shame.”
My brows crinkled, not understanding.
“Do you know what shame does to a man?” he asked. “He becomes desperate to justify his guilt. He will slice off the noses of victims to remind himself and the world that they deserved to die.” The young master stood up and straightened his black gauze hat. “There is one lesson all who enter the capital will learn: evil comes from the unfulfilled need for significance.”
Before he could leave, I startled to my feet, unable to hold down my curiosity. “Why have you confided in one such as I?”
“Why, don’t you know?” He looked at me and arched a single brow. “Everyone here in the bureau is too quick to judge, and it will end in the death of someone innocent. But you, you are an eavesdropper. The only person in this bureau who truly listens.”
* * *
My nails were craggy and bleeding by the afternoon. I could not stop tearing off little corners, my mind tormented. Once Commander Yi heard my story, would he investigate thoroughly? Or would he be quick to execute Inspector Han?
I hid behind one of the pillars surrounding the main pavilion, a spot I often frequented these days. I watched Lord Seo of the Ministry of Punishment stalking away, clucking his tongue as he surveyed the police bureau. “Such incompetence,” he muttered. “Absolutely incompetent.” Nearby, Commander Yi stood still, yet his jaw was set, clenching back a violent emotion. He looked like an old man beaten by fierce gales.
“Commander Yi, I must make a confession,” I recited under my breath. “I cannot hide it any longer. I must make a confession.”
There was no more time for indecision. After a few moments, I pushed away from the pillar and hurried toward the sliding doors of the main pavilion, through