Sent to Seduce the General Who Conquered My Clan novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Knife in the Gayageum
Ji-hwan hides a knife in his zither to play for the general who burned his clan, and the general finds it, lays it on the table and asks him to finish the song first.
The knife was hidden in the sound hole of Ji-hwan's gayageum, wrapped in a strip of pink silk.
It was the length of his hand, and he had sharpened it every night for six years.
He carried the zither through General Ma's gate on his shoulder like any other musician.
The gatekeeper searched his sleeves, his sash and his hair, and he was embarrassed to do it.
Nobody searches the instrument.
People love their instruments, and nobody believes a man would hurt what he loves.
"Name?" the steward asked.
"Ji-hwan, from the Hall of Nine Strings."
He gave the steward his best smile, the one with the lip tint behind it.
That was the only name he was allowed to give, and it was only half of his real one.
The General's winter banquet filled a hall hung with green lanterns, and forty officials sat in rows on silk cushions.
At the head of the hall sat the man Ji-hwan had come for.
General Ma Tae-ryeong was thirty-three years old, as big and quiet as a gate with a coat on.
He had a short black beard, a thick chest and forearms.
A black cloth was wound around his left arm from wrist to elbow.
There was no triumph in his posture, only the exhaustion of a man who wanted to go home.
Ji-hwan sat on his cushion, laid the zither across his knees and began the court piece the Hall had drilled into him for a month.
Halfway through the first movement, an official laughed behind his sleeve.
"Our General has never learned what this piece is called," he whispered to his neighbor, loud enough to carry.
"He holds his cup like a spade."
The General's hand tightened on his cup.
Ji-hwan played on and watched the General's face over the strings, and he saw him hear every word.
The man beside the General was tall and thin, with white threads in his topknot and a scented fan.
That was Inspector Seong, the king's own eyes.
He smiled at the General.
"A general's hands are for swords," Seong said pleasantly.
"No one at court expects them to be clever, General."
He lifted his cup.
"Just tell us what you have written for the Council this winter, and we will all admire the penmanship."
The General said nothing.
The silence went on long enough for the whole hall to enjoy it.
Then he put down his cup and stood, and every man in the room leaned away from him by an inch.
"Everyone out," he said.
His voice was low and slow, with a rasp in it.
"Except the musician."
Ji-hwan kept his fingers on the strings so they would not shake.
Forty men filed out past him, and not one of them looked at his face.
Seong was last.
He paused at Ji-hwan's cushion, and his fan touched Ji-hwan's chin.
"Mind the beast, little bird," he said.
Then the doors closed, and it was only the General and Ji-hwan and twelve strings.
The General came down off the dais.
He walked.
He knelt across from Ji-hwan, and even kneeling he was a head taller.
"Play the rest," he said.
"The rest of the piece, General?"
"Whatever you want."
Ji-hwan played, and his hands were steady, because he had sworn they would be.
He did not play the court piece.
He played the song his mother used to sing in Cheongseong when the snow came.
He watched the General's face for the moment the man would know it.
The General did not know it.
He only listened, with his eyes half shut, and something in his shoulders let go.
It was not what Ji-hwan had planned.
He had planned to hate this man in the light of a lantern, and the man was sitting in the dark of his own hall looking tired.
When the last note rang, the General opened his eyes.
"Your hand," he said.
Ji-hwan held it out.
He did not know why he did.
The General took his wrist, and the whole thing vanished inside those thick fingers.
His thumb found the pulse under the bone and stayed there.
His hand was hot and dry and rough with old calluses, and it did not hurt.
"You are shaking," the General said.
"It is cold."
"It is not."
Ji-hwan's pulse hammered against the thumb, and the General felt every beat, and Ji-hwan wished very badly that he were a better liar.
Then the General's other hand reached past Ji-hwan's knee, slid two fingers into the sound hole of the zither and drew out the silk.
He unwrapped it slowly.
The little knife lay across his palm in the lantern light.
Ji-hwan stopped breathing.
The General turned the knife over once.
Then he set it on the floor between them, with the point toward his own chest.
"If you are going to use it," he said, "use it while I am listening."
His eyes were dark and very steady.
"I would like to hear the end of the song."
Ji-hwan looked at the knife, and then at the pulse jumping in his wrist under the General's thumb.
He had waited six years to do exactly this.
His hand did not move.
He hated the General for that, and he hated himself more, and he played the last verse with the knife lying at the General's knee.
Want to keep talking to characters like these? Chat with AI romance characters: AI Boyfriend · AI Girlfriend · Dark Romance · Fantasy Romance · BL (Boys’ Love) · Billionaire Boyfriend · Mafia Boyfriend · Possessive Boyfriend · Hockey Boyfriend · Older Boyfriend · K-Drama Boyfriend · Anime Boyfriend · Vampire Boyfriend · Werewolf Boyfriend · Demon Boyfriend · Fae Romance · GL (Girls’ Love) · Anime Girlfriend · Goth & Alt Girlfriend · Gamer Girlfriend · Tsundere Girlfriend · Fantasy Girlfriend