A Heart Turned Toward the Dragon (2)
The woman’s lips drew closer. She moved as though claiming something that already belonged to her, with no hesitation or distinction.
But just before they met—
“How can you so freely seek a man’s lips like this?”
Han Seojin’s fingers slipped between them, blocking her advance.
The woman’s voice sank into icy stillness.
“What an insolent wretch. Do you act this way because you trust in your boju?”
【Desire: ■■■ ■■■ ■■】
【Desire: ■■ to ■■■ ■■】
As expected, her desires remained hidden.
This was the first time he had encountered such an opponent.
To Oh Jayeon, who gripped her hwan-do tightly, Han Seojin sent a quick glance.
Wait, it said.
“May this humble male dare ask for your esteemed name?”
“Mine?”
The yoma woman tilted her head.
“I have no name. There is no need for one.”
“Then, would it be permissible for this humble male to humbly offer you a name?”
“…Hmm?”
The woman lowered her head until her face was inches from his, studying him closely.
“What a strange one you are. I have lived for a very long time, yet I have never seen a human like you.”
“The first painting one sees is always the most interesting, and the first rice cake one tastes is always the most delicious.”
“I already told you that your beauty is remarkable.”
The woman extended her tongue and licked his cheek. A hot, wet mass of flesh pressed against his skin.
“What a curious flavor. Why does it taste like this?”
“In truth, this humble one applies honey to his skin.”
“But I do not taste any honey…?”
【Desire: ■■ ■■■ ■ ■■■】
The woman slipped her hand inside the front of Han Seojin’s robe.
“!”
“!!”
Both Oh Jayeon and Yeol Hayun recoiled in horror.
How could she inflict such humiliation on a man?
For a man with a strong sense of chastity, that single act alone might drive him to take his own life out of shame.
The woman’s hand slowly caressed his upper body. His shoulders, collarbones, beneath his arms, ribs, the area around his nipples…
“Your body is so slender and lovely.”
“This is merely the lowly body of a lowly male.”
“Name. Yes. Man who possesses the boju, what is your name?”
“This humble one is called Han Seojin.”
“Han Seojin. Become my seed-bearer.”
Oh Jayeon’s grip on her hwan-do tightened until her knuckles turned white.
Seed-bearer…!!
How could she utter such a humiliating word to a man?! Even if she was a yoma, did she possess not even the slightest trace of human decency?
To Oh Jayeon, who was visibly trembling with rage, Han Seojin sent another meaningful look.
Please stay calm.
Her hands shook violently.
But in the end, she obeyed Han Seojin’s silent request.
And Han Seojin smiled.
It was a smile perfectly suited to him.
“That cannot be, I am afraid.”
“Why not?”
The woman’s fingers trailed down along his waist.
She carried the scent of water—cold and chilling.
“Because this humble one’s body has already been claimed by a certain dragon.”
The woman’s hand froze.
“Are you speaking of the dragon in the south?”
“Yes. The one who resides in Hanyang in the south and possesses the entirety of Joseon.”
Calmly, Han Seojin took hold of the hand still inside his clothes.
“If you were to take me, no matter how noble you may be, it would not end peacefully.”
“…Hmm.”
The woman brought her nose to the corner of his mouth.
Sniff. Sniff.
Her straight, elegant nose inhaled the scent around his lips.
“Indeed. I can smell the dragon on you.”
“He is a truly terrifying dragon.”
“She is the ruler of Joseon?”
“Yes.”
“What is Joseon? Is it different from Goryeo?”
“It is. It was newly established after the broken Goryeo collapsed. It is larger, stronger, and more prosperous than Goryeo ever was.”
Still perfectly composed, Han Seojin drew the woman’s hand out from beneath his robe.
“Therefore, please refrain from touching a man who already has an owner. Do you not wish to become a dragon yourself? Moreover, even if you were to obtain the Yeouiboju right now, you would not be able to accept it yet, would you?”
“…I see.”
The woman nodded obediently.
“Your words are reasonable.”
“They are.”
“However.”
The woman pulled Han Seojin close once more.
“Even if it is not reasonable, I must at least taste this much.”
In the end, she stole his lips.
Without consent.
By force.
Mucosa met mucosa.
A soft sensation.
The woman’s tongue slipped into his mouth. Where she had licked the surface of his cheek before, she now licked him from the inside.
Her eyes—sclera black, irises a reptilian yellow—remained open even as she devoured his mouth, observing him closely.
Her tongue traced the surface of his teeth, prodded at the place where gums met teeth, and tangled with his retracted tongue.
She had said she wanted to taste him.
And just as she had declared, the woman savored the inside of Han Seojin’s mouth. Thoroughly. Meticulously.
Only after a long while did her tongue finally withdraw from his oral cavity, and their lips parted.
A thin silver thread of saliva sparkled between them.
“How sweet.”
The woman licked her lips.
Even as Han Seojin smiled, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Han Seojin.”
The woman turned away.
“Until we meet again, think of a name worthy of being offered to me.”
With those final words, the woman vanished from the spot.
She left behind even the basket containing the wine and rice cakes meant for the ritual.
——————
Inside the Somaweon office, Baek Yujon was handling paperwork when she let out a long, languid yawn.
“Huuuaaaahm…”
It was peaceful.
In this damned land of eight provinces that always had yoma appearing somewhere, why was today so quiet?
‘Whenever I think something like that, work always comes flooding in the next moment.’
No, no. Such ominous thoughts were forbidden.
‘Haa… Those damn yoma. No matter how many I catch, there’s no end to them.’
Of course, Baek Yujon knew it could not be otherwise.
Yoma were born spontaneously.
Everything between heaven and earth was composed of qi.
It was always flowing, always changing, forming all things according to the harmony of yin, yang, and the five elements.
Yet sometimes that qi would stagnate in one place. It would stop flowing and changing.
It was from such places that yoma were born.
And very occasionally… some of those yoma succeeded in becoming human.
Baek Yujon touched the two horns on her forehead.
At least one of her ancestors must have been such a being—one who had become human from a yoma.
“…”
Having let her mind wander for a moment, the image of that man rose in her thoughts.
Of course, there was only one man she could mean.
Han Seojin.
Whether inside the palace or outside, he was currently the topic of conversation throughout the government offices.
The man’s smile floated into Baek Yujon’s mind.
A gentle curve of his lips.
“…Ugh.”
That seductive creature.
That bewitching thing.
‘He is, in effect, the future royal consort…’
Though he himself seemed to be aiming for the position of queen rather than consort.
And His Majesty appeared to want to grant him that position as well.
Baek Yujon was a warrior.
But unlike a certain half-demon of the Oh clan, she had some interest in calculation and politics.
‘There would be no loss in aligning myself with him now…’
Baek Yujon leaned back in her chair.
“…”
She knew it herself.
What she truly wanted was not simply to ride his coattails to success.
That man’s smile refused to leave her mind.
The gentle words he had spoken to her lingered as well.
—Please do not fear this humble male.
“…Tsk.”
Her mother, who had ruined their household after becoming obsessed with a gisaeng. She had sold not only their fields but even her father’s ornaments, and eventually disappeared somewhere.
How hateful and contemptible that sight had been.
Yet she had been unable to say a single word against it.
This was Joseon.
Filial piety was the most sacred of all values.
—Is she someone your lord’s mouth cannot bring itself to curse?
Those words from Han Seojin had touched a wound deep in Baek Yujon’s heart—one she had not even been aware of.
And he had cleanly pulled it out.
After clinging to him and sobbing her heart out, the resentment that had filled her chest seemed to melt away.
And in the empty space left behind once that resentment had drained out, the feelings she held toward Han Seojin—
“Damn it all.”
They said even a sour persimmon was worth poking if you couldn’t eat it.
But who in their right mind would poke a persimmon that could get their head chopped off if they did it wrong?
“Commander Baek.”
Ah, that bewitching creature.
If his face was that beautiful, couldn’t he at least be poor with words? If he was going to speak so well, shouldn’t he have been clumsy with an instrument? Or if not that, then ignorant? Or if not even that, then at least have a terrible personality?
‘If he has a beautiful face, speaks eloquently, plays instruments and sings well, is learned, and even has a good character, what is a plain military officer like me supposed to do?’
“Commander Baek. Commander Baek!!”
“!?”
Baek Yujon shot to her feet in alarm. Standing before her was her direct superior, the Chief of the Somaweon, Fourth Rank Nok Geoyi.
“I apologize! What is the matter!?”
At six cheok six chon, Baek Yujon was taller than the average woman, while Nok Geoyi, at only four cheok eight chon, was far smaller than average.
Nevertheless, Baek Yujon treated Nok Geoyi with the utmost respect.
This was not only because of rank, but because in terms of martial prowess, her superior stood far above her.
“It’s serious.”
“What kind of serious…?”
Baek Yujon realized that Nok Geoyi’s expression was grave beyond measure.
“An imugi has appeared.”
**
Nok Geoyi
