Chapter 8: The Selection

The Selection began at noon in the Hall of Great Harmony, and Seok-woo was not allowed to watch it.

The night attendants stood in the corridor outside, with the doors shut.

He stood among them with his hands in his sleeves and his sister's face in his head.

Through the lattice he could see only slivers.

Three young women in layered silk knelt in a row on the red carpet, their eyes cast down, their hair bound in high bridal coils.

The Queen Dowager sat on her cushion, wrapped in grey.

The King's chair stood empty.

Min Sa-heon sat beside it, smiling, with his hand resting on the desk of the royal seal.

At the head of the hall, in crimson, sat the Crown Prince, with a face as pleasant and cold as a closed door.

Hyeon said very little.

When the time came to name the first candidate to go forward, the Dowager spoke.

"The Left Councillor's daughter," she said, "has the finest hand in the kingdom and the best reputation."

"A worthy choice," said Min, and bowed.

Seok-woo could not see Hyeon's face.

He saw Hyeon's hand tighten on his knee.

He saw the middle girl raise her head a little.

She wore plain blue, with a long pale face and a mouth held very flat.

For half a second she looked straight through the lattice at Seok-woo.

Then she lowered her eyes.

The audience lasted two hours.

When it ended, Seok-woo walked back ahead of the prince's procession and was waiting in the Hall of Quiet Dawn when the doors opened.

Hyeon came in alone and slid them shut himself.

He stood with his back to Seok-woo for a long moment, still in crimson.

"Hyeon," Seok-woo said.

"Don't." Hyeon's voice shook. "Don't be kind. I can't bear it yet."

Seok-woo crossed the room.

He had spent the whole day holding his breath, and the thought of a stranger's hand on Hyeon's sleeve had hollowed him out.

He took Hyeon by the shoulders, turned him around, and pressed him back against the desk.

Brushes scattered.

An ink stone rolled off the edge and cracked on the floor.

"Seok-woo...?"

"Who touched you?"

"No one."

"Who put a hand on you in that hall?"

"The Dowager patted my cheek." Hyeon stared at him, lips parted. "Seok-woo, what is it? What's wrong?"

"They're going to give you to her."

"They think they are."

"She'll be in your bed."

"In a month, perhaps. Not by my choice."

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