The Red Palace

by June Hur

To enter the palace means to walk a path stained in blood, our medical teachers had whispered. There will be bloodshed. I only hope it will not be yours.

I would not love, unless I was loved first and loved the most. I would be nothing at all, if I could not be first.

Father frightened me more than a tiger. A tiger might eat me, but Father could crush my very soul.

Eojin pulled me down and ducked over me, his chest covering my back and his arms shielding my head.

She said you are like a crane among wolves.”

“We are women,” she continued, “and nothing short of death stops us from doing precisely what we wish to do. That is what the laws and restrictions binding our lives breed: determination and cunning. The likes of you will not obey me. You will tell me that you intend to be as still as a rock, and yet I know you will dart from shadow to shadow like a fish.”

“May I be so bold as to ask—” “You are bold, so be bold with me,” he said, his voice so firm it surprised me. “There is no need for politeness.”

I tried a few more times, then my heart lurched with surprise as Eojin grasped my waist and easily lifted me onto the saddle. His hands withdrew without lingering, yet the memory of his warmth remained on me.

I suddenly remembered my smallness, my insignificance.

Everyone must choose the paths they will walk. And when you choose, remember to count the cost. Do not live with regrets.”

No matter how hard you try to preserve yourself, every important decision in life will come with a price. It will come with regrets.”

“Save your teacher, if she means that much to you. It is those you love that make a wretched life worth living.”

I wouldn’t care too much about what he thinks of you.”

“I wanted to make sure you arrived at the inn safe. I’m not so thoughtless as to have left you alone right after a new murder.”

“You’re in as much danger as I am.” At last our eyes met. “I suppose so,” he whispered. “But never fear. Next time it will be my turn.” “Your turn?” “To watch out for you.”

“Is that a promise?”

“When the time comes,” he said quietly, holding my gaze the way he held my hand. “You watch out for me. And I will always watch out for you.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked. I blinked. “How am I looking at you?” “As though I’m a pitiful mutt.”

“Revenge begets revenge; the anger is unquenchable. We become the monsters we are trying to punish. Justice, however, brings closure, and that is what I want. It can only be achieved by remaining sober-minded and rational.

“But I also know that you could lose everything, including your life. I can’t allow that to happen—” “But it is my life.” My chest prickled with both anger and confusion. “I said I would help you, and I mean it.

“You must have been a general in your past life. A most irritatingly stubborn one.”

Our heads nearly touching, so lost in the moment, so consumed that I could not tell where he began and where I ended. We seemed to have, in that moment, merged into one mind

“I wonder what time it is, nauri,” I whispered. “You don’t need to keep calling me that,” he replied just as quietly.

“I would have gladly traded my life for hers.”

It seemed monsters still bled. Killers still had hearts, if only for a particular few.

“When anger grips me, I cannot contain it. And this anger keeps me awake at night, a darkness that I’ve held in for too long. Every little thing leaves me in a state of rage.”

“It is exhausting, this anger that will not leave me—not even for a moment.”

If the walls were to fall down, would horror and death spill out in a river of blood?

“It’s not what you think—” “You spent the night together?” She could barely speak, her face turning bright red. A mixture of surprise and delight danced in her eyes. “What does this mean? Are you in love? Is he in love?

I wanted to love and be loved. I wanted to be known. I wanted to be understood and accepted.

I had his friendship. It was enough. It had to be enough.

Some patients looked well on the outside, when they were already fatally broken on the inside.

She does not know how to love. It does not mean that she does not love at all.

You aren’t alone now, I promise.

His hand held my shoulder, his grip protective.

“You are my father, yet never acted like a father.” My voice cracked, my words trembled, but I had spoken and I couldn’t stop. The unfairness of his words was too outrageous for me to keep silent. “So why should I act like your daughter?”

“When all this is over…” His gaze bored into me—that familiar searching gaze, as though he were leaning in to peer beneath the surface of who I was. As though he actually saw something worth looking for. “Come with me to the Lantern Festival.”

“But … why me?” I asked, breathless. Eojin stepped close and whispered, “I like being with you.”

It seemed we must have both forgotten, for he leaned down and pressed his lips against my cheek.

pounded, and a feeling like a bruise formed at the pit of my stomach. Father’s words echoed in my head, ringing true now and sharpening the sting. I would never be anyone’s Greatest Love. I would always be a stolen kiss, a fleeting moment—a mistake.

A plaything? Do you think I care for you so little?”

“Our last encounter ended badly,” Eojin spoke in the barest whisper, “so I came here to explain myself to you. Then I heard the commotion.”

“If you enter the palace, you either die or you survive and become another monster within its walls …

I would never hurt anyone with this. But perhaps this was what the killer had once believed, too—until they had lost the most precious thing in their life. I wondered what that might be for me. What it might take for me to end the life of another.

“You are most irritating,” he said when I caught up with him. “Irritating because I am right, nauri?” I asked, sliding in a note of politeness. “Yes.” A reluctant half smile.

sometimes too much mercy is as detrimental as too little.”

“I can tell by the way he looks at you when you are not looking.”

“So you do care for me.” “Of course,” I said softly.

“I always felt like I was alone until I met you,” he murmured hesitantly,

“When we’re together … it’s as though we are like water in the river, my thoughts flowing through yours, yours through mine. And when we are silent”—a faint smile tugged at his lips—“I forget you are even there sometimes.”