Seeds of Suspicion
Alliance Leader Namgung Jin set the imperial letter down on the table.
Everyone present had already taken turns reading it, yet not a single pair of eyes left the document — all of them still searching for some hidden meaning between its lines.
"You've all read it, so I'll hear your thoughts."
Hwangbo Ak, Patriarch of the Hwangbo Clan, crossed his arms. As he leaned back, the oversized chair groaned beneath him.
"So they won't be baring blades for the time being. The man claims he means to marry, and now he's sending troops to his prospective in-laws' houses?"
"He could just as easily intend to kill the ones who accept the invitation once they're inside the palace."
At Jongri Hyeon's words, the Kongtong elder, Hwangbo Ak snorted.
"Every single person seated here? I confess I'd be curious to see how many Imperial Guards that would cost him."
"We must not underestimate the palace's strength. The Imperial Guards are well-trained elites, and Grand General Yu Cheong-ah is a power whom even the people in this room would find difficult to face."
Hyeonjin of Wudang cut in.
"That said, since the throne has gone so far as to raise the matter of a marriage, we must take it that the palace is trying to mend relations for now. There's no need for us to be the first to cast suspicion and ruin things."
Namgung Jin agreed with that much, at least. The disarmament edict that had sparked endless rumors of coming and going had never actually been issued. Word had come that the court ministers had remonstrated fiercely and that the Emperor had relented. Perhaps he had judged his strength insufficient to strike down the murim, or perhaps Chancellor Jang Mun-hyeok had talked him out of it.
But it was the Qingcheng affair that made such reassurance impossible.
Namgung Jin looked across the table. Elder Song Heo-jinin of the Qingcheng Sect had sat in silence throughout the entire exchange of the letter.
"Qingcheng received no separate word?"
"None."
"No thought of opening talks with the palace?"
Song Heo-jinin's brows shifted.
"And what talks, might I ask, do you mean?"
Namgung Jin studied him for a moment. The face of a man who understood perfectly and was playing dumb anyway.
"The Emperor holds a grudge. How long do you intend to leave it untouched? It would be wiser to send a letter of your own first—"
"I have already explained the circumstances at the time."
Song Heo-jinin cut him off.
"Our sect grieves over it as well. But even for the throne, we could not betray the dying wish of our founder. We never surrendered a single herb."
Hwangbo Ak laid a hand on the table.
"Let's leave that for later. We didn't gather today to weigh Qingcheng's sins, did we?"
Song Heo-jinin closed his mouth, and Namgung Jin pressed no further. If Qingcheng meant to hold that line, badgering them here would accomplish nothing.
He drew the letter back toward himself.
"Let us discuss the marriage first. The palace has asked for the will of the Five Great Clans, so we must know where each house stands before we can send a reply."
"A family's marriage is not something the Alliance gets to decide."
Hwangbo Ak said it flatly.
"I'm not proposing to force anyone."
"Then I'll have to go back and consult as well. It's not a thing one man decides alone."
The moment the Empress's seat came into play, the man's earlier bluster had vanished. Namgung Jin chose not to point out the change. The Hwangbo Clan had an unmarried daughter; so did the Namgung Clan. This was no stranger's business to either of them.
He turned to the young patriarch of the Dang Clan.
"And the Dang young patriarch?"
Dang Do-gyeong raised his head. Eldest son of the Poison King Dang Baek-san, he was attending in his father's stead. Seated among these formidable patriarchs, he had been sparing with his words — but there was nothing cowed about him.
"I must ask my father. This is not something I can answer on my own authority."
"Had the Poison King any house in mind for his daughter's hand?"
"He has said nothing to me on the matter."
"Then we should contact him without delay—"
A sound came from outside the door. The disciple standing behind Gwak Chil, Sect Leader of the Beggars Sect, stepped out. He returned a moment later, handed over a folded slip of paper, and whispered something into his leader's ear.
Gwak Chil unfolded the paper. As he read down the page, his eyes lifted toward Dang Do-gyeong.
Dang Do-gyeong met that gaze, and at first said nothing. But when Gwak Chil kept staring at him even after finishing the report, his brow furrowed.
"Have you something to say to me?"
"Seems there's no need to ask your father after all."
Namgung Jin looked at Gwak Chil. "What news?"
Gwak Chil set the paper in his hand down on the table.
"The palace sent the Dang Clan its own private letter requesting the marriage."
Dang Do-gyeong's eyes went wide.
"What did you say?"
"A direct reply was demanded of the Poison King himself. It seems the Emperor wishes to consider a daughter of the Dang Clan as a candidate for Empress."
No one spoke at once. Moments ago, Dang Do-gyeong had said he must ask his father. He had answered that he knew of no house the Poison King had in mind. And before those words had even finished settling, this news had arrived.
Ordinarily, these men would have let it pass — perhaps the man himself hadn't heard yet. This time, every one of them started by studying Dang Do-gyeong's face. The careful answer he'd just given began to sound very different in their ears.
Hwangbo Ak uncrossed his arms.
"We've had no such word at our house."
He glanced at the representatives of the other great clans. From none of them came a claim of receipt.
Dang Do-gyeong extended his hand.
"I'll see the report."
Gwak Chil pressed the paper flat with a fingertip.
"This came to the Beggars Sect."
"And on that basis you presume to speak of my clan's affairs? I'm trying to verify it."
"Sect Leader."
At Namgung Jin's word, Gwak Chil withdrew his hand. Dang Do-gyeong read the report. It had come up from the Imperial Capital: a separate letter was being sent to the Dang Clan, and the palace would ask the Poison King directly his will regarding the marriage.
Neither the full text of the letter nor the Poison King's answer was included.
"No word that it's arrived at our main house."
"So?"
"I'm hearing of this for the first time in this room. My father may not have received it yet either."
Gwak Chil's lips twisted.
Hwangbo Ak asked first. "It's going to the other clans too, isn't it?"
"The Dang Clan is the only one confirmed. I've ordered the rest looked into."
Jongri Hyeon clicked his tongue.
"A brazen scheme of sowing discord. To our faces we're the Five Great Clans, and behind our backs he calls on the Dang Clan alone."
"I think so as well."
Dang Do-gyeong set the paper down.
"So I ask you all to withhold your conjectures until I've confirmed with my father."
"Who's conjecturing what, exactly?"
Gwak Chil asked. Dang Do-gyeong looked at him.
"You don't look upon me kindly, Sect Leader."
"I merely admire a man who's landed such a fine match. Shall I offer my congratulations?"
"You don't even know whether the letter has been received."
"And you've no guess at all as to why the Emperor would send it to the Dang Clan alone?"
With each jab, Dang Do-gyeong's jaw hardened. The moment Namgung Jin moved to rein Gwak Chil in, Song Heo-jinin spoke.
"Was it truly the palace that sent word first?"
Dang Do-gyeong turned his head. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"If the Dang Clan had already conveyed its intent regarding the marriage, this could well be a reply."
"Mind your own words too, Elder."
Dang Do-gyeong's voice dropped low.
"If such a thing had happened, would I be sitting in this seat claiming ignorance?"
"You said yourself that there may be things the young patriarch doesn't know."
Gwak Chil gave a short laugh.
"There's sense in the Qingcheng elder's words."
Dang Do-gyeong glared at him — and Gwak Chil, as if he'd only been waiting for the opening, leaned forward.
"It's been strange ever since you drove our branch leaders out of Sichuan. If it had happened in one place, fine — but beggars keep getting pushed out all around Chengdu."
"You might also mention what those branch leaders did."
"What's a beggar supposed to do besides beg and gather news?"
"They sold our house's trade records."
Dang Do-gyeong placed his hands on the table.
"When the medicinal herbs would arrive, who was buying up the storehouses — they dug into everything and spread it around. We warned them, they didn't stop, so we threw them out."
"Gathering information is what the Beggars Sect does!"
"And are we obliged to hold our gates open for you because of it?"
"So you swept away our eyes and ears entirely?"
Gwak Chil's voice rose.
"So that even when palace people come and go, we'd never know!"
Dang Do-gyeong shoved back his chair and rose. The eyes of those seated nearby fixed on his sleeve. Aware of it, he planted both palms flat on the table — showing them he had drawn nothing — and spoke through clenched teeth.
"Take it back. Those words."
"That's enough!"
Namgung Jin slammed the table.
"How far do you intend to take this over a single report that the palace sent a letter!"
Gwak Chil fell silent. Namgung Jin turned his gaze on Song Heo-jinin as well.
"Is there proof the Dang Clan sent anyone first? Any word that the Poison King gave his reply?"
Song Heo-jinin looked away. Dang Do-gyeong slowly took his seat again.
But only the voices had quieted. For all he'd called it the Emperor's scheme of discord, Jongri Hyeon was still stealing glances toward Dang Do-gyeong. Hwangbo Ak drummed his fingers against his own knee. The timing of the news was uncanny.
This had been the first gathering where each clan was to declare its position on the marriage. Dang Do-gyeong had sat right there, holding his tongue — and immediately afterward, word surfaced that the Dang Clan alone had received a separate request. There had been no chance to verify anything with the Poison King. And the more Dang Do-gyeong claimed to know nothing, the heavier grew the suspicion that the answer had been settled long ago, and the clan was merely waiting for the meeting to end.
There were questions Namgung Jin himself wanted to ask. Would the Dang Clan accept the palace's proposal? And if so, how far did it intend to stand with the Murim Alliance?
He swallowed the questions.
"Young patriarch. First, look into the full circumstances with your father."
"I will."
"And before you send any answer to the palace, I would take it as a courtesy if you informed the Alliance of your intent as well."
Dang Do-gyeong looked at Namgung Jin. When Hwangbo Ak had said a family's marriage was not the Alliance's to decide, Namgung Jin had declared he had no intention of forcing anyone. Both men remembered that exchange.
After a moment, Dang Do-gyeong lowered his head.
"I will convey your words."
Hearing that answer, Namgung Jin asked for nothing more.
On the day the imperial envoy crossed the gates of the Sichuan Dang Clan, the Poison King Dang Baek-san received him in the family head's hall in person. The envoy performed the proper rites and delivered the letter, and Dang Baek-san accepted it with courtesy. Only after the man had withdrawn to the outer quarters did the Poison King tear open the seal.
His eldest daughter, Dang Seol-ha, sat beside him and watched her father read. Before he had even finished, his eyebrows shot upward.
"Why, this son of a—!"
Dang Baek-san shot to his feet. The teacup caught on his sleeve fell and shattered. Tea splashed toward Dang Seol-ha's feet, and she drew up the hem of her skirt to dodge it.
"Father. The envoy is still inside the estate."
"I know."
Dang Baek-san read the letter again. The message relayed from the Murim Alliance had already arrived: the Emperor wished to take an Empress from among the Five Great Clans, and asked each house to declare its will. His son Dang Do-gyeong was attending the council, so he had intended to read the returning report and consider it then.
Instead, the palace's envoy had come in person. At the front gate, the man had announced that he bore the imperial command and demanded to see the head of the Dang Clan — in front of every watching eye. Among those eyes had surely been some that took no pleasure in seeing the Dang Clan honored.
"The Emperor is forcing us onto the tiger's back whether we like it or not."
"May I read it too, Father?"
Dang Seol-ha held out her hand. Dang Baek-san studied his daughter a moment, then passed her the letter. While she read, he rose and paced back and forth before the desk.
"If we say yes, does Namgung Jin simply sit still? He tells the Five Great Clans to gather their wills collectively — then sends his own man to us alone."
"That's hardly grounds for the Alliance Leader to be angry at you, Father."
"That's exactly what makes men's hearts so filthy. He can't demand answers from the Emperor, so he'll grab us and shake us instead. Since when have you two been talking?"
Dang Baek-san stopped pacing.
"Do-gyeong will have caught on by now."
"Then send word to him."
"I will."
He called for someone outside the door and ordered an urgent message sent to his son. When he turned back, Dang Seol-ha had looked up from the letter.
"Did they send an envoy like this to the other clans?"
"I asked him."
"And what did he say?"
"Said he came bearing the imperial command to the Dang Clan, and knew nothing of any other envoy's route."
Dang Seol-ha laughed. Dang Baek-san looked at his daughter, exasperated.
"Something amusing?"
"The Emperor seems a remarkably clever man."
"Your own marriage is at stake here."
"Which is exactly why I'm reading it so carefully."
She spread the letter across her knees.
"Nowhere does it say he'll make me Empress. Only that he wishes to consider me as a candidate, and asks the head of the house to declare his will."
"Which is precisely what makes it so vile."
Dang Baek-san rested a hand on the back of an empty chair.
"The Emperor has promised not one thing in writing, yet the other houses could believe we've snatched the seat out from under them."
"Then decline."
"I'd need a reason."
"You could simply say you don't wish to send your daughter to the palace."
"Every other house is offering up an Empress, and we alone cannot marry into the throne?"
Dang Baek-san looked at his daughter.
"You've no betrothed waiting at home either. One careless word, and they'll say we slighted the Son of Heaven."
Dang Seol-ha returned to the letter. Her finger stopped on a passage praising the Dang Clan's renown.
"Qingcheng won't like this either."
Dang Baek-san's face stiffened. She looked up.
"Us growing close to the palace."
"So it would seem."
Rooted in the same province of Sichuan, the two had never been fast friends. Qingcheng wary of Dang poisons; the Dang Clan loathing how Qingcheng wrapped itself in duty and righteous cause to meddle in other people's affairs. Dang Baek-san knew the grudge between the Emperor and Qingcheng as well. If his daughter became Empress, he could hardly expect the Dang Clan to stand apart from that enmity forever.
He rubbed the space between his brows.
"And what do you think?"
Dang Seol-ha answered as if she'd been waiting for the question.
"Take me with you to the coronation."
Dang Baek-san's hand stopped.
"You want to see the Emperor?"
"Yes."
"Curious what his face looks like?"
"Curious what sort of man he is when he speaks."
She folded the letter neatly.
"The writing is this respectful — and yet it made you leap out of your seat, Father. I find myself wondering what expression he wears in person."
Dang Baek-san studied his daughter for a long while. Hers was the face of someone more intrigued by the man called Emperor than by the prospect of becoming Empress. She had always been that way. Told not to take a thing apart, she stared at it the longest; told something was dangerous and not to touch it, she asked first which part to touch to make it dangerous.
He took the letter and laid it on the desk.
"When you go, you will not let that mouth of yours run loose."
Dang Seol-ha smiled.
"So you're taking me?"
"I'd best start on the reply."
Dang Baek-san picked up the brush. But he could not bring it to the paper. He stared down at the brush tip, then raised his voice toward the door.
"Set an evening table for the envoy. Tell him we ask he stay the night."
"Yes, my lord!"
The answer came from outside. Dang Baek-san wrote out his opening line, frowned as if it displeased him, and lifted the brush away. Dang Seol-ha, watching beside him, quietly laid out a fresh sheet.
This time he wrote an inquiry after the Emperor's health at the very top — then sighed and slid the paper aside.
"One more sheet."
Dang Seol-ha bit back a laugh as she drew out the paper.