SMCM 07

Daom dumbly hooked the ladle she’d been holding onto the hotpot. Then she sat up straight and faced Sangun.

“What an utterly petty method,” she said, folding her hands politely in front of her.

Onta, watching from the side, gave a little curl of his mouth. See that?

“There may be profound reasons beyond the comprehension of lowly humans for why Sangun would give up the country’s protection, but the way you’re trying to accomplish it is cowardly.” Onta cast a quick look at Sangun. He had never heard one of his retainers call him petty or cowardly before; the expression on his face looked as if he’d been struck.

“You could have plainly said you must return to the Celestial Palace and discussed it with your retainers. There was no need to torment them for so many long years.”

“It’s because you lowly humans never know when to give up.”

Sangun’s hair that fell over his eyes stirred more violently in that moment.

“If making one or two people suffer was enough to let you go, why are you now making retainers do such things—giving up even your daughter?”

Daom bit the inside of her cheek hard.

Sangun would never understand how her father had felt when he gave the retainer ring to her.

“What I asked was not your critique of my method.” He bit into a large, ripe persimmon. The deep orange of its flesh around his mouth resembled fallen, mature leaves outside the pavilion. He stuck out his tongue and licked his lips, then continued.

“Answer properly. You have two choices.”

How many people had become irreparably broken in body and spirit from serving Sangun? Even among those Daom knew by face, there were several, including Yu Ja-gyeom. She wondered if perhaps previous retainers had known this too. If they had known and still fought with all their might to keep the White Tiger God bound to Hodam, then Daom couldn’t back down either.

“I made a vow when I came here.”

And there was Yoonjeong, for whom the nation’s survival weighed heavier than life—when she thought of him, Daom’s choice narrowed to a single path.

“I promised not to bring disgrace to my family and not to abandon the country.” She lifted the downcast eyes she’d kept modestly lowered and looked at Sangun.

“In the history of Hodam, no retainer has ever voluntarily stepped down. I will not give up my position as a retainer no matter what happens.”

Sangun, annoyed, finished the persimmon in one go. Licking his fingers, he rose and walked straight toward Daom.

Bihyeong hurriedly reached out as if to stop him, thinking Sangun might kick her, but Sangun gripped her chin instead.

“You’ll regret it,” he said.

Now she understood. When he was irritated or his temper twisted, he unconsciously released a little of his divine power. The degree of it made the white forelock flutter like it had its own wind. Daom thought his hair moved as if it were a living thing with a will of its own.

“Since the choice was mine, so will be the regret,” she replied, keeping her eyes fixed on him. Sangun’s eyes glittered oddly, then a smile spread from the corners of his eyes to his mouth.

“Oh, amusing.” He tightened his grip on her chin and pulled it a little more. Up close, he smelled sweet—probably the persimmon he’d just eaten.

“All right, then. Try it. Beg and crawl and cling until I plead for your life.” He released her and walked past.

“Even so, I’m not likely to stop just because of that.” As Sangun moved toward the pavilion door, Bihyeong reached out again.

“Take the rest of your meal outside. Doesn’t your hand tremble if you skip even one meal?” he urged.

Sangun paused at the door, looked back casually at his and Daom’s food on the table, bared his teeth like an angry beast, and said to Daom, “If you scoop stew into the fish-sauce dish one more time, know that next time I’ll stew you for the pot before the next meal.”

He complained about the loss of appetite as he went out. After he left, a silence lingered in the pavilion. Then Onta burst into loud laughter, clutching his belly.

“Did you see that? Did you see Sangun’s face?” Bihyeong started laughing too. Daom looked between the two of them, puzzled.

“Oh—whenever I feel gloomy from now on, I’ll remember today,” Onta said.

“Who wouldn’t? I’ll probably never see that stunned face again in my life.” Onta picked up his spoon and began to gobble at the table with gusto, as if unconcerned that Sangun, his friend, had left without eating.

“I’ll eat this then.” Even Bihyeong, who had been urging Sangun to eat only a short while before, changed his tune. He casually climbed onto Sangun’s cushion and claimed the meal.

“Shouldn’t we fetch him back to eat?” Daom began, but Bihyeong waved his chopsticks dismissively.

“Why bring back someone who said he wouldn’t eat? He’ll sneak back into the soju room around one o’clock on his own.”

“Sangun always refuses food when something upsets him. He’s like that even when he loses at a long game.” The two seemed used to this situation. After watching the pair—who looked like they could devour whole earthenware bowls—for a while, Daom rose quietly.

After all, hadn’t she vowed to do her utmost as a retainer? Part of that duty was making sure the guardian god ate properly so as to maintain his health.

Stepping outside the pavilion, Daom hesitated, unsure where to go. Within the Guihojeo (the manor), the only places she knew exactly were the wardrobe hall and the soju room.

As she stood watching the fluttering autumn leaves, she glanced at her retainer ring.

The retainer ring set with a large jade-green gem had been passed down from the White Tiger God, who had always carried it in the Celestial Palace. It was said the gem contained a gentle essence of the White Tiger God. Daom channeled a little bit of her power to awaken the gem’s energy. Slow tendrils of green smoke rose and hovered, wavering as if about to take shape.

“Go to your master.” The divine energy instinctively sought the original owner.

Those born to carry the White Tiger God’s power naturally felt drawn to Sangun. Without realizing it, they followed and trusted him blindly. Until today, Daom had been no different—but now, perhaps, about one-tenth of that blind faith had faded.

“Done.” The smoke relaxed and drifted forward, finding its way to where Sangun was.

Daom followed the smoke’s path and soon found him sprawled on the lowest branch of a maple tree.

“Come back and eat,” she said.

Although it was a low branch, the tree was huge; Daom had to crane her neck to look up at him. Sangun lay slanted against the wood, propping his head with one arm, and let out an uneasy chuckle.

“How bold. You used the ring’s power to find me?” He waved away the thin, smoke-like divine energy that circled his face like mayflies. The little energies curled and were sucked back into the green jewel as if their work were done.

“I only heard that it would find you; I didn’t think it would actually do so.”

“Should I take the ring away?” he asked.

“It was originally Mama’s. If you want it, do as you wish.” It was only a speck of divinity trapped in the gem anyway; Sangun had more than enough other jewels. Taking the ring wouldn’t benefit him much. For a moment Sangun’s expression turned sulky at the thought of someone threatening to take the retainer ring.

Daom looked at him for a moment and, thinking he resembled a sulky child, briefly allowed herself an irreverent thought she shouldn’t have as a retainer.

“Shall I give it to you?” she offered.