My Husband Thinks I Forgot I Was a Demon novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: The Memory Trial

The Vice-Leader drags Ji-han's old comrades in to break him, and the Leader shuts the hall down for him.

The Council Hall had nine high seats, one for every sect, and Ji-han was made to stand alone in the middle of the floor.

The Leader stood behind his shoulder with the veil hat back on.

It was strange how fast Ji-han missed the face under it.

Hyeong Jeong-seok walked a slow circle around him, turning his rosary one bead at a time.

"We are not cruel people," Hyeong told the Hall. "We only wish to be sure the Alliance has not married a spy."

"The physician has examined my head," Ji-han said.

"The physician is a kind man."

"Is that a crime?"

A few of the old sect heads smiled.

Ji-han had learned that the Alliance liked him best when he was a little funny and a little afraid.

He gave them both, and he kept his braid over his left shoulder, away from the tattoo on his right wrist.

"We will be gentle," Hyeong said. "Bring in the first."

The side door opened, and three men in chains were led across the floor.

Ji-han knew them before he saw their faces.

He knew them by the way they walked.

One was a swordsman he had once pulled out of a burning granary.

One was a cook who used to hide dumplings in his coat.

The third was a skinny boy of seventeen with a broken left hand that Ji-han had set himself.

Ji-han had told him to keep it still for six weeks.

The boy hadn't, and now the hand had healed crooked.

"Second Seat," the boy whispered.

His whole face broke open with hope.

"Second Seat, they said you were dead. It's me."

Ji-han looked at him.

He had been trained for ten years to hide what his body did at fear and hunger and cold.

Nobody had trained him for this.

He let his face go polite and puzzled.

"I'm sorry," he said gently. "You've mistaken me for someone."

The boy's mouth shook.

"Ji-han," the boy said.

"That is my name. The card says so."

"You taught me the Lotus Step. You said my left foot was lazy."

"I don't doubt it was."

Then Ji-han's eyes betrayed him and dropped to the boy's bent hand.

It lasted half a second, no more.

Hyeong saw it.

"Interesting," Hyeong murmured.

The Leader's fingers closed on Ji-han's shoulder, warm and heavy.

"He doesn't know you," the Leader said. "Take them out."

"One more test, Leader. A small one."

Hyeong smiled at Ji-han with great sorrow.

"Even a man with no memory keeps what his bones know. The Lotus Cult trains its Second Seats to answer force with force, without thinking."

"If the Leader would tap his husband's chest with the Frost Palm, we will see whether his body remembers how to guard."

The room went cold for Ji-han.

A tap from a real Frost Palm froze the lung.

A tap from the great Jin Hyeok-ryeong's Frost Palm would be a very hard tap indeed.

Ji-han's body would answer.

His inner force would rise, and he would guard.

He would be exposed in front of nine sects with his own husband's palm on his chest.

He kept his breathing even.

He thought: I am a very good liar, but I am not going to enjoy dying.

Behind him, there was a silence.

It lasted two heartbeats too long.

"No," said the Leader.

"Leader?"

"I said no."

The Leader walked around Ji-han and stood between him and Hyeong.

He was so large that the sect heads leaned back in their chairs.

"This man was given to me as my husband, not as a target."

"The council voted..."

"The council voted that I should protect him. This is what I say protecting him means."

"Then you refuse a lawful test?"

"I refuse to hit my husband to settle your curiosity."

His voice didn't rise.

It was soft and rough, and it carried to every seat.

"If you want his memory, ask the man," the Leader said. "If you want my palm, Vice-Leader, I'll gladly lend it to you outside."

Somebody in the back laughed, then coughed.

The old head of the Mount Jade sect said, "The Leader has the right of it," and three others nodded.

Hyeong's smile never moved.

He bowed so deep his goatee nearly touched the floor.

"Forgive an old man his zeal," he said. "The trial is closed."

The three prisoners were dragged out.

The boy looked back over his shoulder at Ji-han the whole way, and Ji-han kept his face smooth until the door shut.

Then his knees nearly went.

A huge hand came under his elbow, and he leaned on it before he could think.

The Cedar Court was empty when they got back.

The Leader took off his hat the moment the door closed and tossed it onto the bed.

Ji-han walked to the window, then to the wall, then back.

"You didn't have to do that," he said.

"I know."

"They'll talk."

"They always talk."

"Hyeong saw that I knew the boy."

"He saw a man feel sorry for a prisoner." The Leader's voice was gentle. "I do that too."

Ji-han turned around.

The Leader stood in the middle of the room with his big hands hanging open, and his tired brown eyes were fixed on Ji-han's face.

Ji-han wanted to tell him.

For one wild second he wanted to say: I'm not what I told you, and the boy knew me, and I'm so tired.

What came out was, "Take your robe off."

The Leader blinked.

"Ji-han."

"Take it off. Please. I want to look at you."

The Leader undid his sash, slowly, still watching him, and the indigo fell from his shoulders.

He stood naked in the late light, broad and brown and scarred.

He had a soft belly, thick thighs, and a chest Ji-han could have slept on.

He was already half hard.

Ji-han dropped to his knees on the carpet in front of him.

The Leader's breath hissed.

"You don't have to."

"I know." Ji-han looked up at him from under his lashes. "I want to."

The Leader's cock was thick and heavy, flushed dark at the head.

Ji-han took it in his fist and thought: I won't be able to fit all of this.

He licked the tip.

The Leader's hips jerked.

"That's it," the Leader said hoarsely, and then, as if he had surprised himself, "that's good."

Ji-han looked up.

The Leader's face was red to the ears.

Ji-han took the head into his mouth and sucked, slow, tasting salt.

The Leader put a shaking hand on the back of his head without pulling.

"Tell me what you like," Ji-han said, around him.

"Everything. Gods, that. Keep doing that."

Ji-han took more.

The Leader filled his mouth.

He swallowed around him, and his eyes watered, and his jaw ached, and he didn't care.

He used his tongue along the underside and his fist at the base, where his mouth couldn't reach.

He hollowed his cheeks.

The Leader groaned, long and low, and his thighs trembled under Ji-han's free hand.

"Good," Ji-han said, pulling off for one breath. "You're so good."

The Leader made a sound Ji-han had never heard from a grown man.

It was almost a sob.

He bucked into Ji-han's mouth once, helplessly, and Ji-han let him, while his own cock throbbed untouched in his trousers.

"I'm going to," the Leader warned.

"Do it."

The Leader came down his throat in thick hot pulses, one palm braced on the wall, Ji-han's name coming out of him like a prayer.

Ji-han swallowed every drop.

When Ji-han sat back on his heels, the Leader slid down the wall until he was kneeling in front of him.

He caught Ji-han's face in both hands and kissed him.

He tasted himself on Ji-han's tongue and groaned.

"Your turn," the Leader said into his mouth.

"Later."

"Now."

"Later," Ji-han said, smiling against his lips. "I want to hold on to this. I've never had a day I wanted to keep."

The Leader stared at him.

Then he pulled Ji-han into his lap and held him so tight Ji-han could feel his heart.

They stayed like that until the light turned orange.

A gong sounded from the main gate, three slow strokes.

Kang Soo-bin burst in without knocking, white-faced, a tray of tea rattling in his hands.

"Master Ji-han," he said. "There's an envoy at the gate."

"She's wearing black. She's come for the wedding feast, and she asked for you by your old name."

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