MOSC 9

At that moment, On’s eyes flew open.

“Huk… Heok….”

The tender protection of the dawn moon was coming to an end.

A single ray of morning sunlight was shining intensely into On’s eyes.

On hurriedly checked her surroundings. She was still in the Sim family’s humble, three-room thatched cottage.

She quickly looked around.

But the leech-like man who had bitten and sucked on her body all night was not beside her.

In her shock, On habitually tried to bolt upright.

Then she groaned, realizing the faint pain throughout her body.

‘…Oh, my whole body is aching.’

It had been, in a word, an incredible night.

A night she couldn’t tell was dream or reality.

It felt as though she had climbed onto the back of a phoenix and fallen off, and at the same time, as if she had fallen headfirst into a barrel of peach blossom wine and woken up drunk.

If she could, On wanted to protest to the palace officials who had sent her to Sim Wigyeom’s house last night.

‘You said he was a pale-faced scholar. A nobleman who has spent his life only reading and writing, who has never so much as brushed sleeves with a woman. So why…!’

The Wigyeom she had met in person was the complete opposite of the impression she’d been given.

Sim Wigyeom was a lecher more persistent and greedy than any other man.

Last night, all On could do was sway like a kite on a string, completely swept away by Sim Wigyeom.

‘I’d believe it if you told me he was a monster, not a person….’

Had Wigyeom been listening at that moment, he would have winced, but thankfully, On was alone.

‘It’s not like he’s some kind of monster that sucks the life force out of women, to leave a person’s body in this state….’

On’s uncanny intuition, sharp enough to walk on blades, continued to fire.

When she lifted the hem of her clothes, an even more embarrassing sight was revealed.

Hickeys, like insect bites, ran from her nape all the way down to her calves. As if he were venting a grudge held for decades, the body that had been tormented all night by the man was covered in bruises.

‘It looks like I’ve been bitten by mosquitoes.’

On’s cheeks turned crimson.

‘Truly… in a way I can’t quite explain….’

On dazedly acknowledged the first thought that came to mind and hung her head low.

Her earlobes turned red.

‘Even… even for Princess Bonghwa, he was a man she would fall for head over heels upon meeting.’

Sim Wigyeom was a thoroughly magnificent man.

On nodded, presenting the most decisive piece of evidence that helped her judge the previous night.

‘And besides, he was handsome.’

Even his shadow.

As she recalled her experience with Sim Wigyeom, in which her entire body had melted into a languid puddle, she flinched and trembled.

It had been a night so fulfilling that the afterglow still made her heart waver.

Wigyeom’s plan had been a success.

If he had been listening, he would have forgotten the decorum of a nobleman’s son and done a somersault in the air.

But On’s expression soon turned serious.

‘I must forget about him now.’

She had her own neck to save now.

She shouldn’t indulge in vain fantasies.

If the princess’s marriage proceeded as planned, there would be no room for On, a mere concubine, to insert herself between the two who would be leading a proper married life.

On recalled the fates of the past hwachok ladies-in-waiting recorded in history.

‘Usually, they ended up living a life of hardship, used as pawns in the discord between the princess and the Prince Consort…. There were even cases where they were subjected to the jealousy and envy of their mistress, kicked out of the household, and reduced to being prostitutes in the marketplace.’

In the worst-case scenario, they were blamed for causing a rift in the royal family and became the easiest scapegoat, fated to disappear.

Gulp.

Putting her aching heart aside, On grimly clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut.

‘From now on, I have more than enough to worry about just looking out for my own future.’

Don’t poke your nose where it doesn’t belong.

But then, a set of neatly folded clothes by her pillow caught her eye.

She remembered Wigyeom from the night before, how he had wiped her staggering, half-asleep body and dressed her, one piece of clothing at a time.

Strangely, On’s eyes began to sting.

“…It’s all over now, s-so please let me do it.”

“Haha. I was thinking of doing something shameless while I was dressing you, but you saw right through me. And… who ever said it was over?”

The low, laughing lips and, in contrast, the damp, dark sensation of his wet hand stroking her skin.

Recalling that moment, goosebumps rose on On’s skin once more.

The man had been so very affectionate.

As if he had known her for a long time.

At the same time, he was a man of skill whom On had absolutely no way of resisting.

‘He was truly far more mature than his age suggested….’

It was the moment On’s intuition developed to a level where she could have set up shop as a fortune teller.

Which, of course, was natural.

It would be stranger for anyone not to possess such composure and insight in their second life.

In any case, it was just as On was helplessly lost in reminiscing about that night.

She sensed a presence outside the door.

Thinking it was the Prince Consort, On jumped in surprise, her eyes wide as cauldron lids as she hastily straightened her clothes. But the voice she heard belonged to someone else entirely.

“A pleasure to meet you for the first time. I am Jo Gyesaeng, a servant of the Sim family.”

On’s eyes widened.

A jongin was a personal servant who handled various miscellaneous tasks.

‘…He must be his right-hand man!’

Sensing that this was someone she would encounter often in her life at the Sim household, On raised her head sharply.

Fortunately, it was not a name she would easily forget.

(Had she heard Gyesaeng’s name from his time as a slave, it would have been even harder to forget.)

“Wh-What is it?”

When On opened her mouth, she was startled by her own sharp, cracked voice.

It was the result of crying her lungs out under Wigyeom all night.

Mortified, On’s ears turned the color of a peach.

“Yes. My master felt apologetic for his hasty departure and commanded me to leave a small token of courtesy for you, my lady.”

On paused.

She had expected his hasty departure, and they were not supposed to have any further involvement, so what sort of courtesy could he possibly leave?

“Did he really say it was for me, and not for Her Highness the Princess?”

“Yes, he specifically instructed me to say that this is solely for the court lady from the palace, Kim On.”

On quickly opened the door.

But Wigyeom’s man had vanished as if he had wings on his feet.

Instead, a piece of red silk lay on the floor.

‘This is…!’

On blankly picked it up to examine it.

It was a crimson skirt.

A red hue, like flower petals woven together, unfolded before her eyes.

Dazed, On glanced from side to side.

‘Why, why would he give something so precious to me….’

She was at a loss. It was a silk skirt that, at a glance, could not be obtained with just a few coins.

‘I was supposed to be just a tool to check the Prince Consort’s health and bedroom abilities before the princess’s wedding….’

She should have been treated as less than human.

But the Sim Wigyeom she met did not treat her that way.

And it was the same now.

Such a precious silk skirt, one that would be hard to buy with just a few coins.

And so, On too was forgetting her place, finding it impossible to dare treat herself in such a way.

‘Somehow, I feel….’

The bridge of On’s nose turned red.

Before meeting him, On had presumed that the man who would be Prince Consort was just an incompetent who lived off his family’s prestige, a petty man.

But the Prince Consort she met face-to-face was an exceedingly virtuous and noble scholar.

‘And his personality is endlessly gentle….’

And so, On’s misunderstanding continued unabated.

She thought for a moment before shamelessly adding.

‘…And on top of that, h-he is proficient in the great human affair between a husband and wife.’

Dazed.

Thinking of the previous night, On’s cheeks colored like wild strawberries.

Had Wigyeom overheard these thoughts, he would have immediately swept her up and carried her to the bedroom.

On clutched the crimson skirt the Prince Consort had insisted be given to her and stared blankly at the empty courtyard.

Swaaa.

The sound of rustling leaves spread. The leaves of a Formosan sweetgum tree standing on one side were scattering in the wind.

The Formosan sweetgum was considered a divine tree and was highly valued. It was a tree she had seen often as a child when she followed her mother to Ohwangsa, the state temple.

‘Suddenly, old memories from back then….’

She even remembered her childhood before her family’s fall from grace.

Gazing at the unfurled crimson skirt and the swaying tree, On was seized by a feeling that everything that had happened since last night was as if she had been bewitched by a goblin.

After returning to the palace, in the Queen’s chambers.

She had barely crossed one great mountain, only to find an entire mountain range now blocking her path.

“So, what was the chosen Prince Consort like when you met him in person? Report what you saw, heard, and felt to Her Majesty in detail.”

She was before the Queen herself.

On prostrated herself before her superior to report on her night with Sim Wigyeom.

“Yes, yes… S-Sim Wigyeom is of sturdy build and robust physique, a gentleman of upright character. Also, also, he does not sleep lightly or sweat excessively at night, and he did not complain of fatigue even after sitting or lying down for long periods, so his circulation appears to be smooth….”

On was so overwhelmed she could hardly bear it, sweating enough to form streams in her clothes.

What was the princess’s future husband like?

On had to shout inwardly.

‘He was top-grade. The highest of the high grade, I tell you…!’

She was supposed to be reporting on the Prince Consort’s health and appearance, but she couldn’t stop her report from devolving into her impressions of a night spent with the princess’s future husband.

But what could she do?

All she could remember were the five senses gifted to her by the man who gave her that unforgettable night.

“H-His body does not have a vulgar smell, but rather a clean and elegant fragrance. H-His fingers are long and even, possessing grace….”