Chapter 4: Dictation

Si-hyeon folded the note into his fist and decided he was a very good liar.

"It's a tea list," he said.

"It's from the kitchen boy," the Heavenly Demon said, not looking up from his cup. "I pay him. He brings me everything that goes through the pantry."

Si-hyeon stared at him.

"You read it."

"Before you did. Then I put it back."

"Why would you put it back?"

"A boy who writes that on a tea tin," the Demon said, "deserves an answer."

He stood, took a brush from a rack, and laid it on the low desk by the window with a sheet of rice paper.

"Tell him to stay home."

"He won't listen to me."

"Then tell him in a way he'll listen to. Sit."

"Why do you care what happens to him?"

"If he climbs the mountain without a seal, my people will kill him at the first gate. If he carries mine, they'll let him reach the hall."

Si-hyeon thought about that.

It was an odd thing for a Demon to worry about, and he decided to worry about it later.

He sat on the cushion in front of the desk with his ankle chain pooled on the floor.

His hand was unsteady, so he pressed it flat against the paper until it stilled.

The Demon knelt behind him.

Si-hyeon felt the heat of that body along his whole back before he felt the hands.

The Demon was so large that even kneeling, his chin cleared the top of Si-hyeon's head.

Si-hyeon dipped the brush, and the first line came out steady.

"Ha-neul. Don't come. I am fed and unharmed, and the Demon is an idiot."

"I'm not letting you say that," the Demon said, amused.

"It's my letter."

"It's my seal."

"Then I'll be accurate. The Demon is a very large idiot."

The Demon's hands came around Si-hyeon's waist.

Si-hyeon froze with the brush in the air.

"Keep writing," the Demon said.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing yet."

His palms spread across Si-hyeon's belly, so wide they covered it from hip to hip, and slid slowly up under his shirt.

The brush wobbled and left a blot on the page.

"The kid will see that," Si-hyeon said faintly.

"He'll think you're tired."

Si-hyeon wrote another line, and his handwriting looked like a sick spider had walked across the paper.

The Demon's thumbs found his nipples and drew them tight, and a sound came out of Si-hyeon that was not a word.

"Good," the Demon said, low. "Keep going."

"I can't write if you."

"You can. Write 'I am well.'"

"I am. Well."

"Again, with your own hand."

Si-hyeon wrote it.

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