The Gisaeng’s Path to Favor
As I lifted the smooth, white porcelain bottle, the concave indentation fit perfectly into my palm. It was, as expected, an item meant for the royal court. The craftsmanship was likely the finest in all of Joseon.
“This lowly one shall dare to pour you a cup.”
“Very well. Pour.”
The King leaned back against her headrest, watching the movements of my hands with a steady gaze. Trickle, trickle. The clear, refined rice wine flowed from the bottle into the cup. I poured neither too little nor too much, tilting the bottle back with a practiced flick to ensure not a single drop would bead and run down the surface.
“Hmm. Indeed, your grace in pouring wine is quite elegant.”
“I am unworthy of such praise from Your Majesty.”
I placed the cup of rice wine near her hand, and the King lifted it, bringing it to the tip of her nose.
“The fragrance is exquisite.”
“I believe it to be Samhaeju, brewed with both glutinous and non-glutinous rice. It is a Samyangju, fermented three times over, known for its deep and mellow flavor.”
“How do you know what this wine is? Did you ask the palace maids in the royal kitchen?”
“In my line of work as a gisaeng, one comes to know every famous liquor across the eight provinces of Joseon.”
“Ha, is that so?” The King tossed the wine back into her throat. “Indeed, as you say. The taste is fine and smooth.”
“Do you wish for me to pour another cup?”
“Fill it the moment the cup is empty. Do not ask me every single time.”
“This lowly one failed to discern Your Majesty’s intent.”
The King drained the next cup immediately as well.
“Why do you not drink?”
“If the one meant to pour the wine were to drink, I fear my hands might lose their steadiness.”
“It matters not. Drink.”
“I might soil Your Majesty’s skin or hair with the wine.”
“It matters not. You drink as well.”
The King snatched the bottle from my hand and roughly filled the empty cup. “Or is it that you do not wish to drink with me?”
“How could this humble servant dare to refuse the medicinal wine bestowed by Your Majesty?”
“Hmph. Your tongue is truly slick.”
“You said you were a gisaeng.”
“That is correct. I am registered at a gibang, and I pour wine for the guests who visit.”
I filled the cup again. This time, the King swallowed only half and set it back down.
“What exactly does a gisaeng sell?”
“That depends on the gisaeng. Ordinary ones sell wine, laughter, and their faces. They are often called Hae-eo-hwa, the ‘flower that understands speech.’”
“And the ones who are not ordinary?”
“Better gisaengs sell dance, music, and song in addition to what I mentioned. They pluck the geum and play the jeok, singing poems of the Song and Tang dynasties over the melodies.”
“Then.”
“What of the gisaengs who are not ordinary in a bad sense?”
“They sell their own bodies.”
The King drained the cup. The sound of her setting it down—clack!—was slightly irritable.
“How filthy. You mean to say they let people pay to put a rod that pokes into any hole for money into their own?”
“Does Your Majesty also know of such things? How a man and a woman unite?”
“Of course I know. Are you now mocking your King?”
“This lowly one has spoken with a base tongue.”
“Tsk…”
“What about you?”
There was no point in lying to her. That was a relief. Even if I spoke the truth, it aligned with her desires.
“Though I am a lowly person, I have never once sold my body.”
“Hmm, I see. I see. Is that so? I see…”
The King lifted her wine cup. The corners of her mouth twitched. “See to it that you never engage in such filthy acts in the future.”
“I shall obey your royal command.”
“Yes, I shall bestow wine upon you aga—the bottle is empty. Someone! Bring a new bottle!”
Perhaps they had been waiting outside the door, for a new bottle was brought in immediately.
“I fear that if you drink too much, it may harm your royal health.”
“Quiet. Just pour the wine. Keuheuhe, wine poured by a gisaeng truly tastes better.”
The King’s face was flushed. She giggled. “Ah, yes, you said you wanted to see my dragon claws. Since there are no noisy scholars around, I shall show you here.”
She lifted her slender, white fingers before me.
“Yap! Haha, how is it? Are you surprised?”
Her fingers transformed. They became sharp claws, capable of tearing through armor as if it were paper. Her hands, too, were covered in hard, dragon scales.
“This is the reason why only the bloodline of King Taejo can be the King of Joseon. With just this, I alone could tear tens of thousands of people apart.”
Four dragon claws approached my face. “Observe it calmly with your own eyes. How is it? Is it beautiful? Is it terrifying?”
“And yet, it is merely this hand. It is even difficult to hold a wine cup like this.”
The King tried to pick up the wine cup with her dragon claws. But as she said, the sharp claws were ill-suited for picking up a cup designed for human fingers. The cup fell. The Samhaeju, worth one nyang and ten jeon per bottle, spilled. It splashed onto the King’s white robes. The wine soaked her chest, the fine, white silk clinging to her skin.
“This lowly one shall take my leave. Please change your clothes.”
“No.”
“Your Majesty, you seem to be quite intoxicated.”
“I am not intoxicated. And I do not need to change my clothes. You are here before me, so why should I?”
The King pointed to her chest with a hand that had returned to its human form.
“You said your tongue was mine.”
“Your Majesty.”
“Clean it. Clean my body with that tongue.”
“Your Majesty.”
“I am telling you to clean my body with what is mine—do you dare to refuse me now?”
“…Your Majesty.”
“It is a royal command.”
The King’s eyes glowed red. “If you refuse any further, do not expect me to be lenient, even with you.”
“…I understand.”
I bowed my head. I parted my lips. I extended my tongue. With the wet fabric between us, I approached her royal body. Beneath the cloth, her feminine curves were visible. My lips touched just below her collarbone. As we made contact, the flavor of the Samhaeju spread into my nose and mouth. And the scent of her skin, unrelated to the wine, also bloomed within my senses.
“Uut…” The King let out a breath. The air, heated within her lungs, tickled the crown of my head.
“Yes, you… lick well…”
I lapped up the wine. From the collarbone to the side, and gradually, downward.
“Euuut♡” The King’s waist trembled. “Heuk, ah-eum…♡” Her abdominal muscles surged, as if her body were being jolted from top to bottom.
“It feels good, you lick well, further down…”
I pulled my lips away. I pulled my body back.
“Your Majesty.”
I knelt and pressed my forehead to the ground. “Any further than this, and there will be no turning back. I implore you, please stop here.”
“…”
The burning lust was palpable, even without referring to the special traits granted in this world. The air in the bedchamber was thick with heat and humidity. However, the King still possessed enough reason to understand what I was saying.
“The night is late. Withdraw.”
“This lowly one has disturbed Your Majesty’s evening.”
“Wait.”
The King’s hand caught the sleeve of my outer robe. “Leave this behind.”
“I understand.”
“No.”
Her hand dug into my sleeve. Her white fingers touched my wrist, sliding beneath my outer garment.
“Are you wearing an undershirt?”
“I am.”
“Then leave that behind. Put your outer robe back on.”
“…It is embarrassing, so please turn your back.”
“…Very well.”
The King turned her body. I loosened my robe ties. In the silence, the sound of my clothes rustling was exceptionally sharp. I took off my jacket and held it, then removed the white undershirt. I could feel her heat behind me. I draped the jacket back over my body, folded the undershirt neatly, and placed it on the cushion where I had been sitting.
“Then, this lowly one shall withdraw.”
“…Very well.”
I stepped out of the bedchamber. Through the shadows, I saw the King reach out toward my undergarment. She clutched it. She brought the clothing to her face. At the same time, her other hand reached down below her navel.
. . .
The next morning. Before I could even eat breakfast, a eunuch arrived.
“His Majesty has issued a decree. You are to be moved to a new residence.”
“I am deeply sorry to have caused trouble for the busy Chief Eunuch because of this lowly one. I shall follow immediately.”
“…Hmph. Yes, come now. That would be better.”
I could see the hostility the eunuch held toward me soften slightly.
“Where am I going?”
“It is a place designated by the King herself.”
“May this lowly one dare to ask where that might be?”
“…Cheonghyang-gak.”
“…I am uneducated and ignorant, so I apologize for asking again. If you mean Cheonghyang-gak, is that not a pavilion attached to the Daejojeon?”
“You know correctly.”
The Daejojeon was the residence of the Queen of Joseon. Since the King had not yet held a wedding, it stood empty without an owner. The King had ordered my new residence to be moved there. Even if it were not the Daejojeon itself, but a building attached to it…
‘This is bound to cause an uproar.’