"Just what does he look like, that though it's already been days, not a word of rumor has spread?"
"Well… isn't it just as the rumors say — a hideous face? That's why the palace is keeping mouths shut. I never expected much anyway."
"Oh, come on — weren't you, Master So, the one expecting the most? You seemed to be picturing quite the tasty little beauty."
"Right, right. Looks like Master So dreamed an empty dream and is the most disappointed."
Several men snickered, and the one called Master So puffed up and barked — he had been the first to say it, what did any pretty boy have to do with him? At which another man teased, "Of course, what would he have to do with you? That esteemed person is to become the General's bride — it's not as though he'd take up with the likes of you," and doubled over laughing.
They had no idea at all that the "esteemed personage" was hearing every word of theirs from right beside them. They had cast a sidelong glance or two at the strangely dressed stranger who did not look like a man of this country, but they could not at all connect the Hae-gang before their eyes with the "esteemed personage" they spoke of. The hat's veil hid his face so they could not see it properly, and — least of all — he was nothing like the "sickly pretty boy" they expected, which made him all the harder to recognize.
It was then that a big, audacious fellow sidled up to Hae-gang and addressed him . His big, rough hand — rude at a glance — went to give the edge of the veil a light flick.
"Hey there, brother. Are you standing here dressed like that to pick up men?"
The elegant, unfathomable dignity lent by his hidden face was far from ordinary, and it seemed to have given the ruffian some manner of misunderstanding. Moreover, Hae-gang's attire — with its draping, flowing elegance, so unlike the clothes worn by these northerners — fanned the fellow's imagination in a dubious direction.
Hae-gang's height far exceeded six cheok, making him taller than the average man, but he lacked the bulk of one. Besides, he had been leaning slightly to take in the sights, which lessened any intimidation from his build.
When Hae-gang belatedly straightened up and looked the man in the eye, the difference in presence made the man flinch slightly — but having already accosted him, he did not back down, judging Hae-gang an easy mark. Wherever he was from, he looked like a pampered young master of a noble house who had never known hardship. Certain he could never lose to such a pretty-faced fellow, the man puffed out his chest instead, trying to look all the more imposing.
"I'm in a good mood today. So just walk on by."
Hae-gang spoke. He meant that, since he was in a good mood today, he would not hurt the man. His voice was lower and deeper than one might have thought, with a sort of motionless leisure dwelling within it. It was plain that Hae-gang was not at all cowed by the man's threats. That only flustered the man further, scratching at his pointless pride, and he tried to put on an even more useless show of force.
"What? Already had a customer, is that why you're in a good mood?! Do you take me for some pushover you can just wave past?!"
The ruffian's mouth spewed nothing but vulgarity. To hear himself treated as though he were a male courtesan — Hae-gang found it utterly absurd .
"…"
Hae-gang simply ignored him. He had no wish to waste his energy bandying words with such a man. If the fellow tried violence, it would be a pity — like leaping into a pit of fire of his own accord — but Hae-gang would oblige him if it came to that; with that thought, he turned his head back to whatever he had been looking at.
He had seen all manner of precious things at the palace — and for that very reason, the humble things one could see only out on the streets struck Hae-gang's eyes as a fresh, unfamiliar delight. They might have been things others would grumble at and deem trivial, but — whether because outings themselves were so rare for him — to Hae-gang, everything he could see out here was simply fresh.
What was more, on this fine day, having come to a country far cooler and more bracing than the south, his body felt lighter, and thanks to that he even had the strength to stroll the market like this. For Hae-gang, it could only be a "fundamentally good day." The sole pity was that the ruffian could appreciate none of it.
"You bewitching-looking wretch! Ignoring me, are you? Damn it, you picked the wrong man today…!"
At last the ruffian flew into a rage and raised his hand, poised to strike Hae-gang down on the spot. Even as the man's presence turned menacing, Hae-gang — who had been standing with his hands clasped behind his back — lightly curled his fingers before the hand could rise. Thinking a closed fist might hurt him badly, he had meant only to give him a moderate tap.
But Hae-gang had no need to use his hand. Not because the ruffian was terribly fast — but because, in the instant Hae-gang shifted his body, someone stepped in front of him and had already seized the ruffian's wrist fast, stopping him.
Thanks to that, Hae-gang could keep his composure. The force drained from his hand, which had gathered a touch of strength, and — forgetting even the posture of hands clasped behind his back he had held from the start — he simply stared blankly at the man before him. Then Hae-gang tilted his head slightly to the side; the unrip's thin veil swayed, and through the parted gap he cast his gaze, slowly raking his eyes from the man's jaw up along his nape to his ear.
In an instant, Hae-gang recognized him at once. The Ghost King, said to go about with a leather guard at his throat and a black mask on his face — an attire too distinctive for two to exist. What was more, Hae-gang judged, a man this tall — matching his own height — and of such fine build would find it all the harder to outfit himself so.
"What is this disgraceful behavior?"
Mok-young gripped the ruffian's wrist as though to crush it, then flung it away, speaking in a frigid voice. Everyone around naturally recognized Mok-young, and the ruffian dropped to his knees before him, bowing his head. Then, admitting his wrong , he begged for mercy.
Hae-gang, newly marveling at how much worse Mok-young's notoriety was in his own country, quietly nodded to himself from behind— [continues]
"When an esteemed personage comes, the guards naturally flock to that side. But in a corner of this market like this, that leaves an empty gap."
"Ah."
Hearing Mok-young's explanation, Hae-gang let out a soft exclamation as if he understood at once. Indeed, it made sense. Even ordinarily it was hard to keep perfect order in every nook of the market — and when the "esteemed personage" processed through, manpower concentrated there, so the gaps could only grow larger. And our General Dan was taking care to fill those empty gaps.
Hae-gang found himself pleased, somehow, at his bride's appearance, and smiled faintly. That his betrothed had been far away — never showing even the tip of his nose the whole three days — that shamelessness, he felt like forgiving in this very moment. Meeting him face to face like this — whether because the mask hid half his face — his eyes looked exceedingly fierce, and Hae-gang thought he must never be the first to pick a marital quarrel; yet the man did not seem so fierce at heart, which was an inward relief.
And so, almost without thinking, he cast a sidelong glance and stretched his legs .
"If it's no trouble, could you accompany me just until we're out of this market? I've only been here a few days and everything is terribly unfamiliar."
Hae-gang lowered his hand and let the veil fall back into place, but through the sheer, nearly translucent cloth one could tell the corners of his mouth were still smiling. For someone asking for an escort because the streets were so unfamiliar, he had an air of ease about him.
But there was something strangely hard to refuse about him. An ominous feeling, as it were — that even if refused, he would find some other words to attach and send a man to his grave. The feelers extended from the survival instincts of a general who had rolled through battlefields and handled all manner of soldiers in the barracks reacted just so.
Well, even setting that aside, Hae-gang's dress made him look like the young master of some house, and once he had asked for help it would be hard to pretend utter ignorance. A quarrel might break out on the road, and — learning only later that he was to be the future "esteemed personage" — an awkward situation arising afterward would not do either.
"Wouldn't that be all right?"
Mok-young answered in a low voice. At first he hadn't noticed, but belatedly registering that something was off about Hae-gang's attire, curiosity stirred in him. Mok-young, too, was lightly dressed, but that was because he was a warrior whose body was well trained and — having mastered the Hyeoneum Divine Art — he was resistant to cold. For Hae-gang, who didn't even look like a Northerner, to wander about so thinly clad in this cold — that was suspicious enough.
"It's refreshingly cool — I like it. Bukanseong is a truly fine place to live. It almost puts me in mind to come visit just for pleasure."
Hae-gang spoke in a light tone, as if joking, but he meant it. The cold of Bukanseong was much to his liking — and besides, he was soon to marry the man beside him, and the first impression being not bad at all, he found himself looking forward to what was to come .
"You call this cold refreshing?"
Mok-young, still finding Hae-gang hard to fathom at once , asked again, looking at him; Hae-gang simply affirmed with an "Mm," even nodding. Come to think of it, this young master was also short of speech. When had they ever met, that he should address the General so curtly and condescendingly? Mok-young had no particular wish to throw his weight around, so he wouldn't go so far as to point it out — but the man gave him a strange feeling in many ways.
Leave a Reply