The Eunuch Who Guards the Crown Prince's Bed novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Night Watch
Seok-woo's first night as the Crown Prince's eunuch ends when the prince's wet hand lands on his robe and says he is not what the register says.
On his first night as the Crown Prince's eunuch, Han Seok-woo carried a vial of poison in his sleeve.
He also carried a forged paper.
The palace register said a servant named Seok-woo, of no family, had been cut at sixteen by a physician who was paid well.
The entry was false.
The man it described was whole, twenty-seven years old, and had come to the Eastern Palace to kill the heir to the throne.
"Walk behind me," said Bae Chun-sam, the head eunuch, "and keep your eyes on the floor."
Bae was a round, soft old man with a lantern, and he walked the covered corridor.
Seok-woo kept his eyes on the floor.
It was the third watch of the night, and the plum garden outside was white with the first frost.
"His Highness does not sleep," Bae said. "He has sent back four night attendants since spring."
"Why?"
"They snored. They stared. One of them wept." He glanced sideways. "Do none of those."
"I don't snore."
"Good. He bathes at the third watch. You will pour the water, hold the towel, and say nothing unless he speaks to you."
Bae stopped at a pair of painted doors.
"The tea is on the brazier," he said, more quietly. "The Councillor's people will ask you how it tastes."
Seok-woo's hand went to his sleeve before he could stop it.
Bae looked at the hand.
Then he looked at Seok-woo's face for a long moment.
"The Hall of Quiet Dawn," Bae said at last, and slid the doors open.
The room was dark except for one lamp.
A man sat on the floor at a low table with his back to them, a brush in his hand and his hair loose to his waist.
The hair was black, except for one lock at the right temple that had gone white as paper.
This was Yi Hyeon, the Crown Prince, twenty-six years old.
His seal was burned into the death warrant that had killed Seok-woo's father.
Seok-woo had pictured this room for five years.
In his mind the prince was fat and soft and afraid.
"Bae," the prince said without turning. "Is this the new one?"
"Han Seok-woo, Your Highness. Sent by the Office of Palace Servants."
"Let me see him."
Seok-woo went down on his knees and pressed his forehead to the cold floor.
He heard the brush being set down.
Bare feet crossed the room and stopped in front of his hands.
"Up," said Hyeon.
Seok-woo rose.
The prince was slighter than he had imagined, and nearly as tall, with a narrow pale face and a small mole under his left eye.
He looked at Seok-woo.
"You're large for a palace servant."
"My father was a guard, Your Highness. He fed me well."
"And now he doesn't?"
"My father is dead."
Seok-woo said it flat, and watched the prince's face for any sign.
There was nothing.
"Bae," Hyeon said, "leave us. This one will do."
The old eunuch went out so quietly that the lamp did not flicker.
The bath room was behind a sliding screen, with a stone basin sunk in the floor and steam rising off the water.
Seok-woo poured from the copper jug.
Hyeon undressed in front of him without hurry.
The silk slid off his shoulders, and Seok-woo saw his back.
Pale scars crossed it from the neck to the waist, the straight marks a rod leaves.
Seok-woo had not expected that.
He held the towel and looked at the wall.
Hyeon stepped into the water, sank to his chin, and leaned his head back against the wood.
"They tell me eunuchs don't mind," he said. "Is that true?"
"Mind what, Your Highness?"
"Being looked at. Being near." His eyes were closed. "I'm told you are the only men in this palace I needn't fear."
"I would think you needn't fear anyone, Your Highness."
"You would think so."
Hyeon opened his eyes and looked at him across the steam.
The vial lay against Seok-woo's wrist, small and cold.
One pour in the evening tea, once a night for forty days, and the Left Councillor would free Seok-woo's sister from the palace kitchens.
Hyeon watched his hands.
"Come and help me out," he said. "My knees are stiff."
Seok-woo knelt at the edge of the basin and held out his arm.
Hyeon took it above the wrist.
His fingers were long, stained black with ink at the tips, and wet, and warmer than Seok-woo had expected.
He rose out of the water slowly, leaning on Seok-woo, and the water ran off him onto Seok-woo's sleeve.
He did not let go.
He turned Seok-woo's hand over and looked at the hard calluses along the thumb.
"Eunuchs have soft hands," he said. "Small ones. Yours are a swordsman's."
"My father trained me, Your Highness. Before."
"Before you were cut."
"Yes."
Hyeon stepped closer, and the wet silk of his sleeping robe pressed against Seok-woo's chest.
Seok-woo could smell plum smoke in his hair.
He told his body to behave like a eunuch's body.
It did not listen.
Hyeon's eyes dropped, slowly, and came back up.
Then his free hand, still wet, came to rest flat against the front of Seok-woo's robe.
He held it there, very still.
"Hm," said the Crown Prince.
Seok-woo's heart stopped.
"You're not," Hyeon said softly, "what the register says."
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