Chapter 11: Haeneul

The Southern King's palace stood on a hill above a frozen lake.

Red lanterns hung along every roofline, and snow stuck to their tassels.

The convoy came through the gate at noon on the eighth day.

Servants ran down the steps.

A small gray woman in a plum silk coat pushed through them with her skirts held up in both fists.

"Where is he? Where's my grandson?"

Yul's face appeared at the carriage window.

"Grandmother!"

The Queen of the South cried out and gathered him into her arms as he jumped down.

They stood rocking in the snow while the whole courtyard pretended not to see.

Seo-jun swung off his horse and bowed to her over Yul's head, and his voice was thick.

"Mother."

"My boy." She reached for him, still holding Yul. "You've grown thin. Does that wolf not feed you?"

"He feeds me very well," Seo-jun said, and went red to the ears.

Min-jun dismounted behind him and bowed.

The Queen looked at him over her grandson's hair, and her eyes narrowed with unmistakable suspicion and then a reluctant warmth.

"Prince Min-jun. You're riding with them this time."

"Yes, Majesty."

"Good," she said shortly. "It was long overdue."

Min-jun did not mention that last time he had not come at all, and that she had known it.

The steps of the great hall were wide and shallow.

At the top of them, supported by two attendants, stood the Southern King.

He was a tall, bent man with white hair and a cough that shook his shoulders.

He held out a trembling hand.

"My son."

Seo-jun went up the steps two at a time and fell to his knees.

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