Yi Hyun had always liked the blend of sensuality and unapproachability in expensive courtesans. And their daring manner of speech, of course. Not everyone managed to balance this without slipping into crude vulgarity, but Jade Butterfly was experienced enough in her ephemeral art.

  It was early morning. The room was fairly warm, and the gisaeng, wearing only a white silk underdress, sat on a mattress, combing her long black hair. She had not yet applied her doll-like makeup, and now it was clear that she was quite young, scarcely older than Yi Hyun himself.

  “If this man troubles you, I will keep an eye on him,” the gisaeng said. She drew the comb through her hair again. “It seemed strange to me as well that he appeared without warning.”

  “I would be grateful,” Yi Hyun smiled at her from the doorway. It would have made a perfect scene for a spring yellow romance: a prince and a gisaeng far from the capital, in a snow-covered northern town… “I am certain he has his reasons, but I would feel easier understanding them.”

  “To steal the title?” Jade Butterfly smiled charmingly and cast a playful glance at the prince. She was one of the few who knew about his brother’s past, and she had never trusted a former assassin.

  “I prefer to think not,” Yi Hyun closed his eyes and inhaled the feminine scent filling the room. Dried flowers, sandalwood, warm skin. “But one cannot rule it out, of course.”

  “To be honest, I was surprised that he did not assert his rights earlier,” the gisaeng now raised her hands to braid her hair. Yi Hyun opened his eyes and watched as her short jacket lifted with each movement, almost revealing the ribbon of her underskirt. Sensual, but not yet provocative. “Even if it is true that he does not seek advancement himself, Councilor Kim would never have allowed him to remain silent.”

  “You ought to sit in the State Council,” Yi Hyun joked. Jade Butterfly was well versed in politics and court factions. Her noble origins likely played a role. One day it would be necessary to find a way to restore her family name and return her freedom.

  “I fear I cannot grow the beard required for that,” she laughed brightly and lowered her hands, finishing the braid. “Great Prince, would you pass me the ribbon?”

  “Here,” Yi Hyun picked up a strip of blue silk from the table and handed it to the gisaeng. For this service he allowed himself to brush her wrist lightly with his fingertips. “If we understand one another, I shall not linger.”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “I wish you a fine day, Great Prince,” the gisaeng said to his back.

  Yi Hyun stepped into the courtyard in high spirits. He wanted to believe that the misunderstanding with his brother would soon be resolved, and if not, then in any case the regent knew him better and should understand that Yi Hyun was more beneficial to the Qing Empire than Yi Yun.

  What, he wondered, prevented him from making a choice at once?

  The magistrate’s estate was large, composed of several buildings connected by covered galleries. Yi Hyun turned another corner and saw a large unfamiliar man of bandit-like appearance pressing the magistrate’s daughter against the wall. The girl looked frightened.

  “You would do better to agree willingly,” the giant dressed in furs and leather said with an accent. His forehead was shaved like those of the men from the embassy, but Yi Hyun would have remembered if such a monster had traveled with them. Most striking was an old scar cutting across the left side of his face from brow to chin. “I will obtain permission in any case—”

  “What a lovely morning!” Yi Hyun declared, putting on a sunny smile. “Young lady, would you introduce us?”

  The man growled deep in his throat and turned, clearly displeased by the interruption.

  “Your Highness… Great Prince Dojun, this is Chuluun, bodyguard of Adviser Fang,” the girl stammered.

  “Great Prince?” he repeated. The magistrate’s daughter nodded. The bodyguard then turned to Yi Hyun and bowed, quite like an educated man.

  “I greet the Great Prince,” he said in a normal voice, no longer growling. “I was merely speaking with my betrothed.”

  “Chuluun means ‘stone’ in Mongolian, does it not?” Yi Hyun recalled. “A fitting name. Are you truly engaged?”

  Now he remembered that Adviser Fang had mentioned a man left ill in Anju. Though this brute looked perfectly healthy.

  “No!” the girl squeaked.

  “Yes,” Chuluun grinned. “I was waiting for the embassy to return in order to obtain permission and take my wife to Qing. The empire encourages interethnic marriages.”

  “Within the empire, certainly,” Yi Hyun switched to Chinese. “But in Joseon there are other laws. Here one must obtain the consent of the bride’s parents.”

  “And what choice do they have?” his interlocutor laughed loudly. “No one has yet been born who could refuse me.”

  “Kwon-ssi,” the prince switched back to Korean, “would you accompany me to the well? I cannot seem to find my way.”

  “Of course, Great Prince!” the girl exclaimed gladly. She skirted the giant in a wide arc and hid behind Yi Hyun’s back.

  “I will remember your instruction,” Chuluun promised. A threat sounded in his hoarse voice. He bowed and went off in the opposite direction.

  Watching his broad back and round face, Yi Hyun could not rid himself of the feeling that this man was not as simple as he wished to appear.